"Okay. It's time to explain yourself," Ginny said, plopping herself down on Hermione's plush sofa after both girls said their goodbyes to Lily and Harry. "I kept my mouth shut all evening and now you owe me some answers."
Hermione slipped down next to her friend on the sofa and groaned, hiding her face behind her hands. She really didn't know what was worse. Having been caught at Maid Latte, having to explain why it looked like Sirius worked there, or having been caught coming out of the ladies' room, red faced, with Sirius.
"It's really not what it looked like," Hermione grumbled, laying haphazardly across the couch.
"Oh, no?" Ginny teased. "So you weren't visiting your secret boyfriend, at the muggle cafe he works at for a lark, for a quick rough and tumble in the bathroom?"
Hermione squeaked indignantly. "Of course not," she sputtered and groaned again. "He's not my secret boyfriend!"
"Okay, sure, but you're avoiding the other parts of that. Does he really work there? Why? It's so weird," Ginny mused. "I mean, I guess he gets to be surrounded by those busty maids all day." She dodged a cushion Hermione threw her way, laughing as the brunette groaned even louder in genuine frustration.
"He doesn't care about the busty maids," Hermione whined. Ginny snickered.
"Yeah, because he has you, right?" Hermione groaned again and kicked her friend in the stomach.
"No, because he doesn't work there."
"That explains the apron."
"Shit," Hermione muttered, realizing there was no way out of this without coming clean. She took a calming breath, which wasn't all that calming. "I work there."
A beat. And then Ginny said, "Huh?"
Hermione sat up, situating herself to look directly at her friend.
"I've been working as a waitress for Maid Latte for six months."
"Why," Ginny asked, incredulous. "You just became a full-time auror?"
"I need extra money to save up to buy my parents house, and no, before you ask, I'm not looking for handouts from James and Lily." Ginny shut her mouth, after being caught mid protest. "I want to do this for myself."
The redhead nodded. "Okay. But Sirius?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Sirius found out about it by accident, I swear to you. I wouldn't have ever told him willingly before telling you."
"Yeah, but Hermione, he's the one who looked like he was working tonight."
Hermione bit her lip. "He was sulking around Blackpool one night and happened to be in the alley when I took out the trash," she explained. Ginny grinned.
"Were you dressed up?" Hermione blushed and Ginny threw her head back in delighted laughter. She crossed her legs up on the sofa and settled back against the armrest, clutching a pillow to her chest. "Please, continue." Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Anyway, after he made some rather inappropriate jokes about my attire, I told him why I had a part time job, which he completely understood, by the way," she cast a glare at her friend. "And I asked him not to tell anyone. So far, he hasn't."
Nodding, Ginny prompted her further, "So… you asked him to keep mum, and he really hasn't told anyone?" Hermione shook her head.
"But, he's decided to make my life a living nightmare. Since then, he shows up every night I'm scheduled. Tea, coffee, cakes, and that bloody rice omelet," she complained. Ginny raised an eyebrow quizzically.
"You mean, he goes to watch you in a Maid outfit every day?"
Hermione scowled. "No, he goes to laugh at me every day."
"So he gets different waitresses every day?"
Hermione frowned. "No. He always sits in my section." Ginny was grinning like the devil, Hermione thought.
"So he does go to see you in your Maid outfit every day!"
"Anyway," Hermione pressed. "On Monday, one of the cooks got sick and Misaki bullied him into helping her, and he's been a stand-in cook for three nights."
"Oh. So, you were going to visit your secret boyfriend, at the muggle cafe he works at for a lark, for a bit of rough and tumble in the bathroom," Ginny exclaimed, enormously pleased with herself. She had to dodge another cushion, but sat smugly as she watched her flustered friend.
"Not my boyfriend," Hermione breathed.
"Do you want him to be?"
"No," she said, quickly looking away. Ginny's grin grew wider
"Hermione Granger, do you like him? Because before last weekend I thought you hated him! You're always fighting and nitpicking his lifestyle - you pick fights with him all the time." She stopped, "oh my God, it's foreplay!"
"Gross, Ginny," Hermione interrupted, and muttered, "you gutter-brained whore."
"OK. I know we disliked him because he treated women obscenely. Which," she clarified, "Lily set us straight about. So tell me, now that his absolutely worst quality is no longer an issue, what do you have against the bloke?"
Hermione thought about it. "He's still a right flirt," she said. "He's obnoxious and teases me about everything. He doesn't ever listen to me. He knows I hate flying and he's always trying to get me on his stupid motorcycle," Ginny had pressed her face into the cushion she was hugging, leaving only her sparkling eyes visible as she stared at her idiot friend.
"You know," Ginny said, after she's had enough of Hermione's ridiculous dialogue. "I think he's got it bad for you. And since you totally failed at naming one actual bad thing about him -"
"He doesn't trust me," Hermione interjected. "He doesn't have any faith in my ability as auror. He second guesses all of my ideas. He goes to the cafe to keep me safe because I'm a woman and, despite being an auror, obviously can't take care of myself."
"What was the word you used to call me? Back in school," Ginny asked, cutting her off. Hermione looked confused, but hesitantly answered.
"Obtuse?"
"Right. Hermione, you're being completely obtuse." Hermione choked in protest, but Ginny carried on. "Do you think maybe he just cares about you? Maybe he wants to make sure you're safe because he doesn't want you to get hurt? Like," she stopped to think, as though searching for the right words; "You know. Like, he knows you can take care of yourself, but if he's there, maybe you won't have to? Or like, he'd be able to make sure nothing happens?"
Hermione had no answer. Of course she'd already thought about all of Ginny's points. It wasn't as though she were totally blind to the possibilities of why he did what he did. However, what it came down to were probabilities, and Hermione wasn't going to delude herself into thinking he cared for her any more than a friend. A friend of the family. Or, worse yet, his work partner.
Last weekend was a fluke. He's stuck around with her all night, almost. He was just being nice when he took her up to her bed, she told herself. All the other men were busy straightening out their drunk wives, so it fell to Sirius to help her.
Besides, she was drunk. She could have completely imagined that he had stepped right over both red-headed women to reach her, first, and ask how she would like to go home. In fact, she was certain she had imagined it.
Ginny, however, was incapable of seeing reason, if her current face were anything to go by. Then the girl's eyes sparkled with mischief, as though she knew a secret she was dying to spill. Hermione heaved a great sigh, slouching as the air left her body.
"Okay, I see your point," Hermione said, feigning defeat. "What's the secret?"
"What secret," Ginny asked.
"The secret your face is telling me you can't wait to divulge."
The redhead released an indignant huff, tossing her long hair over one shoulder. "It's not a secret. Harry told me he already told you. Besides, I can tell you don't believe it, anyway. Which is a right pity."
This was the way things had gone for Sirius Black:
Hogwarts was an honest blur of pranks, fights and detentions. He recalled a few things, some girls he went out with and several of Prongs's marriage proposals to Lily. As well as all the creative ways the girl would reject him.
Those memories always made him chuckle.
He dated a Ravenclaw girl for a week in fourth year, and despite his later traitorous tendencies, Sirius had to admit when Peter was right in saying a couple broom closet snog sessions did not constitute "dating." She was nice, though. Until she broke up with him and then told every girl in their year that he broke up with her.
That had been a right nightmare. It also gained him a reputation as a cad that he hadn't even realized he had until halfway through sixth year when Alice turned him down for a trip to Hogsmeade.
He didn't harbor any strong feelings for the girl, but she was nice enough and all the other guys had dates that weekend. It did, however, come as a slap to his face when Alice said she didn't much care to be "shagged and flagged," whatever that meant.
As far as he knew, he hadn't done much snogging outside of the drinking games in the common room during parties. After that particular encounter, Sirius had pulled Lily aside to see what she knew about his reputation.
It seemed to him she was trying not to hem or haw, but he got the gist of it. Lily, who was typically quite stern and disapproving, had surprised him when she threw herself into his arms and held him tightly. She was crying. She told him it was because she saw all the grins and winks he'd thrown at giggling girls and assumed the rumors were true.
The only reason she believed him when he told her it hadn't been true was because he hadn't recognized the name Patsy Christens - and she was one of the biggest slags at school professing to have been one of Sirius's bedpost notches. He had no idea who the bint even was.
Lily told him right then that she should have known he was just oblivious to the rumors - not complicit. So she laughed and promised him she'd set the record straight with the Gryffindor girls, at least. And then she insulted him further by mentioning she should have realized it was a lie because there was no way he would have been able to keep Enid Michealson awake and exhausted for four nights straight. Whoever Enid was.
But then he went back to marauding and thought nothing of it until Lily set him up with Mary McDonald a few weeks after graduation.
Mary hadn't approved of him spending his money on a muggle motorcycle. But instead of just letting him live life and make his own mistakes, she went behind his back and sold the contraption to a muggle neighbor of hers. Sirius was furious.
That relationship was one of the hardest things he'd ever been through and it had only lasted two months. After that, he threw all his energy into his job. He and James were notorious in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
While they were never partnered together, they'd made it a Marauder's game to see who could catch the most dark wizards.
Sirius had the lead in numbers, but when doling out promotions, the DMLE looked at demerits and as James had fewer, he was the one to become the Deputy Head Auror by the time Baby Harry turned 3.
Sirius did have a fling with a Romanian girl who had spiked his drink with a muggle love potion. (Later, Lily explained it had been a drug, not a potion, and he should really turn her in to the muggle police). He shrugged and told her he didn't remember that weekend, anyway, so it likely wouldn't bother him.
But when Marlene McKinnon approached him from behind in the breakroom one day, and "innocently" slapped his ass, he let loose a fury. The incident had ended with Marley in tears and several ministry witches shooting him nasty looks. It had also ended with Sirius having a panic attack on the Potter's living room floor.
That had been the first time Sirius had ever had a panic attack, and it was mostly terrifying because he didn't know what was happening.
Lily had to walk him through breathing exercises to bring him down from the attack, and when his breathing had finally calmed and he could see past the objects directly in front of him, Lily had taken him into Harry's nursery, alone, and asked him what may have happened to leave him in such a state. When he sheepishly answered that Marley had slapped his bum in surprise, he was red in face, looking away from the woman in shame. It was just a bum slap.
Lily, however, never laughed at him. She hugged him. She held him tightly to herself and assured him that he would be fine. After a while, when she had released him, she gently reminded him that he should likely talk to a professional. He'd cut her off, saying he didn't have a history of these attacks and it was probably a one-off thing and it really didn't merit seeing anyone about it.
Gently, she reminded him he'd been sexually assaulted in Romania. He blocked her out, telling himself he most definitely had not been sexually assaulted in Romania - Men weren't assaulted by women. It was the other way around.
Honestly, it had taken years and three more large-scale panic attacks before Sirius gave in and met with a mind healer to work through the trauma he'd denied even having. He regularly shared with Lily some, not all of what he and his healer discussed. Lily and James, and later Remus, supported him unconditionally. No one questioned it when he started directly turning down women who approached him, instead of pretending to be interested to avoid hurting their feelings.
When it appeared he was turning down everyone, James and Remus took him aside to carefully ask if he was genuinely uninterested in these girls, or if he was anxious about getting back into the dating field. Sirius had chuckled and admitted he was insanely nervous of dating, of the possibility of falling in love. But since none of the women approaching made him feel that particular anxiety he knew he didn't want to waste his time with them. James found he had no further arguments; Remus was completely perplexed with his friend's apparent emotional maturity.
As time went by, Sirius experienced less attacks - mini or major. Some women, instead of filling him with dread, simply made him uncomfortable. He would take steps to minimize that discomfort, and if those didn't work, he'd face the problem directly. He wasn't always kind, a fault he'd recognized, but had not had the time to work on it.
In 1994, Sirius had been on the continent, finishing up a solo mission tracking these blood-supremacy extremists who called themselves Death Eaters. They'd been stalking and killing muggleborn witches and wizards and it had become Sirius's dearest goal to capture their leader and put an end to their terror.
He was excited, though, because Harry would be returning home for the Easter holiday and he had planned many adventures for the week he and his friends would be staying with the Potters. He hadn't had much time to spend with his godson in the past couple of years since starting this case, and he was dying to shower the kid with his affection.
There must have been something wrong with his portkey, though, because instead of pulling him through to the English Ministry of Magic, it had filled him with an unbearable pain. It was as if molten metal was rolling through his veins, settling at his chest, filling him with a weight he couldn't support. And then everything went black.
Hermione had been sitting alone in their office, making notes from her visit with Penelope's husband. She had been cross-referencing her notes on Penelope with her notes on Dennis, Justin and Santiago. All had been last seen in Hogsmeade.
After an hour of solitude, Hermione glanced at the clock trying not to be concerned with her partner's whereabouts.
However, just as she was about to try to refocus on her files, a purple Ministry Memo had landed atop the paperwork before her. She lifted the missive, carefully unfolding it, expecting something from Robards or Harry. Instead, she saw a familiar beautiful penmanship with only a single word. "Sick."
Before she knew what she was doing, Hermione was stuffing all her files into her bag and preparing to apparate. However, it quickly occurred to her that she had no idea where Sirius was living. So she apparated outside of the Potter's home.
It was quiet inside the house, and she knew Lily and Harry would be out at work at this hour. James, however, would still be home. In his study, most likely, pretending to work until about noon, when he would actually start on balancing the Potter family vaults.
So she marched up the stairs to the room she knew had been designated as office space since she was fourteen years old, and knocked swiftly before entering. James, whose head had been bent over the top of his desk staring at a small hand-held device, glanced up in a panic and quickly pulled the device under the desk.
"Hermione, love. What are you doing here," he asked, adjusting his glasses.
"I, um," She began, realizing she had no idea how she was going to explain that she needed to go to Sirius's place. "Where does Sirius live," she asked, trying not to wince.
"Oh," James started, blinking in surprise. "He's got a flat in Kent, actually."
"It's just that he didn't come in to work today and I think I've discovered something that he really ought to know," she explained. It was close enough to the truth, so she didn't see how James would fault her.
"You could have sent him an owl?"
"Right," she said. Shit. "But, I really - it's really time sensitive and it would be wrong for me to act without him, since we're partners and," she stammered, "all. That." She couldn't hold back the wince this time. James, however, looked like he was holding back an expression of his own, if the twitching lips and cheeks were anything to go by.
"Yeah, um, I've got the address here, let me look for it," he muttered, looking down and pulling out a drawer to grab what Hermione assumed was an address book. But James was struggling as he rifled through the drawer one-handed. Papers flew out of the small wooden box as he dug his hand under his other books in search of the smaller, spiral bound pad.
Hermione sighed in frustration. "James, I saw the GameBoy, you don't have to hide it."
The man swore under his breath as he placed the small purple device on his desk and used both hands to lift the contents of the drawer and retrieved his address book. He quickly copied Sirius's address onto another parchment for Hermione.
"Don't tell Lily," James told her, reaching the parchment out for her to take it. Hermione smirked.
"Wouldn't dream of it." She took the parchment, and her smirk faltered. "Don't tell Lily."
James and Hermione met each other's glances, her meaning sinking in, and James smiled fondly. "Don't tell Lily what? That you needed to kick Padfoot's arse into gear and get him back to work?"
She chuckled. "Never mind, then. Tell her. Besides, she already knows you've been playing that 007 game instead of working. You have to be sneakier."
With a last grin at her only living father-figure, she pranced out of the office and apparated on the spot.
Sirius's apartment was modest from the outside. It was one door in a long hallway lined with several other doors identical to his. There was nothing ostentatious - nothing stood out to identify the flat as his beside the metal 316 glued to the center of it.
She would have knocked, but just before her fist made contact with the door, it swung open. Sirius stood before her in a gray graphic t-shirt, adorned with a goofy muggle cartoon of a black and white cat and small yellow bird. She recalled the cartoon from her childhood. He wore black sweats on his legs and stood at the door barefoot, looking down at her through the fringe that had obviously escaped the haphazard bun at the base of his neck.
"Did I signal your wards," she asked quietly, leaning in toward him slightly. He stepped aside and chuckled, leading her into the living space of his flat.
"Prongs called. Warned me a workaholic was on her way over to harass me on my deathbed." Hermione sniffed indignantly as she placed her bag on his glass coffee table.
"I didn't come to harass you. I came to," she glanced up to see him leaning against the closed door, arms crossed and grinning. "I came to," she looked away as his grin grew into a smirk, but luckily, he interrupted her.
"Have a seat, Darling. I've sanitized the sofa."
"You caught what the girls had, didn't you," she asked, sitting on the indicated sofa as Sirius settled into the armchair beside her. She had turned to face him, knee resting on the cushion seat. At his nod, she worried her lip. "I need to tell Violet to deep scrub that kitchen to make sure no one else catches this."
"No need," he waved her off, pulling a blanket up over himself. "I cast a sanitizing charm on every surface in the cafe before I locked up last night."
"You locked up?"
"Yup."
The sight of the wizard was nearly pathetic; curled up on his reclining armchair, under a wool blanket, eyes closed as he let Hermione just sit there. The apartment was gorgeous, if not a little eccentric, which completely made up for the lack of individuality in his front door. The open floor plan had hardwood floors and every countertop was marble. There was a Gryffindor red rug beneath them in the living area and every seat - the couch and armchair and settee on the opposite side, was made of a soft brown suede.
There was a small fireplace to her other side, over which was a mantle full of pictures of Sirius, his friends, Lily and James and of Harry at various ages. The sight made her smile, especially as the mantle was nearly overcrowded with all the framed photos. Leaning against some of the frames were loose pictures, likely more recent. These were precariously overflowing. One, near the center, but slightly obscured by a large group photo of Harry's Hogwarts graduation, was a small polaroid.
She stood and made her way to the mantle to inspect the small photo. She lifted it from its spot and her breath caught.
This was the photo the girls had taken when Sirius beat her at Speed. She was dressed in her uniform, all frills and lace, with a very confused grimace on her face - but it wasn't her own image that had her heart suddenly thrumming in her ears. In the photo, Sirius was standing angled beside her, bent slightly at the waist with both his arms wrapped around her. Her shoulder appeared to be uncomfortably digging into his chest, but his face was pressed into her curls, as though placing a kiss to her head, and he wore one of the most serene expressions she'd ever seen.
She swallowed nervously as she carefully placed the image back where she found it. While she was nervous he had decided to display the photo despite promising her that no one else would see it, she was nearly satisfied with its placement.
As though he'd read her thoughts, Sirius's voice broke the silence. "No one's going to see it there, Kitten, stop worrying." She swore she hadn't heard him move, and tried not to think about how predictable she was acting if he knew which photo she was contemplating.
"Why do you have it out here," she asked, voice almost a whisper. She heard him chuckle before she turned to see him still snuggled up in his chair and blanket.
"Because it makes me happy, Hermione."
Her heart dropped into her stomach, splashing into the waters where her stomach-fish lived, awakening the creature who promptly began to flap around uncomfortably. And along with the chaos in the pit of her stomach, she also felt guilt. Enormous, all consuming guilt for the way she had spent the last few years treating this man.
This man who had done nothing but try to make her better at her job. Who tried to protect her. Who kept her secrets and helped her by working out a Ministry schedule that wouldn't exhaust her on top of her cafe schedule. This man, who had made sacrifices in his usual work environment, creating a space for her in their office and working with her after hours at the cafe, either on their case or in the kitchen.
The man who had not told a soul and had implicitly understood her need to do something independently of their found-family, just to prove to herself that she was capable.
Sure, he flirted like mad, but he'd never made any untoward advances. And in the few cases that she had lost her own mind and he could have easily either taken advantage or spitefully made fun of her, he didn't. He didn't rudely reject her when she tried to kiss him when she was drunk. He stepped back and left and never brought it up again. He didn't scorn her for her panic attack last night, instead held her and helped her come down from the anxiety. Her breath caught again.
"Sirius, I'm so sorry," she choked.
"S'ok. Everybody gets sick," he muttered sleepily.
"Not for that," she said, making her way back to the couch. She looked down at him on the armchair, his fringe hiding his face from her view. Without thinking, she gently brushed the hair out of the way, and carefully tucked it behind his ear. He cracked an eye open to look up at her, shooting a confused look.
"For what then?"
She chose her words carefully, and sat on the arm of the couch opposite him. Both his eyes were opened now, looking at her expectantly.
"I misjudged you."
He smiled ruefully. "I forgive you," he stated, matter-of-fact. She rolled her eyes and fidgeted.
"No, I mean, I really - Sirius, I really messed up. I was awful to you. I have been awful to you."
"Yes," he said, sitting a little straighter. "I forgive you. It's all just smoke; we can move on."
"Sirius," she pleaded. "Really, the way I thought of you, you didn't deserve it. You don't understand -"
He cut her off. "I understand, really." He looked straight at her and waited for her to meet his eyes with his own. "You didn't think anything of me that other girls and women haven't all thought before. It's not a reputation I came by honestly, but I did come by it and it's not new. I'm willing to let it go, to leave it all behind us, if you are."
His gray eyes were piercing hers with their honesty. She felt short of breath, dizzy, like the rest of the room was spinning around her, but she couldn't see it because his eyes held hers so tightly she couldn't glance away. She couldn't grasp why he was so willing to just forgive her for the way she'd been with him for the last four years.
"Sirius," she started.
"Hermione," he mimicked, raising his lips in a smile.
"I picked so many fights with you," she said, finally. He chuckled.
"I like fighting with you, silly girl. Come here." He lifted the blanket off of himself in a welcoming gesture, and all the air in Hermione's lungs disappeared.
"Excuse me," she breathed, but Sirius only grinned wider, leaning forward and grabbing her wrist with his own, larger, hand, and pulled her forward. Not expecting this, Hermione was easily maneuvered, falling into his lap. Before she knew it, Sirius had situated her against the armrest, legs draped over his, his blanket covering both of them.
Instead of leaning her weight on him, she leant sideways to rest against the back of the chair and he took the opportunity to rest his head between her shoulder and her chest.
"What are you doing," Hermione asked softly, raising her hand to run her fingers through his silky black hair, as it had all tumbled out of his elastic band in the commotion.
"I'm sick. I'm resting," he muttered. She couldn't see it, but she imagined he had a self-satisfied smirk painted on his smug face.
"We really need to talk about the case," she said, just as softly.
"Shhhhhh," he said. "I'm sick. I'm resting."
"You're going to get me sick, Sirius."
"No I won't. I promise."
"You can't promise that."
But it was too late for a response. Hermione felt Sirius's breathing become deeper and she knew he'd fallen asleep. So she sat there, absently running her hands through his hair and listening to his heavy breathing.
It was thirty minutes before the reality of her current predicament dawned on her. She was alone with Sirius, in his home. He was sick and resting. She was sitting in his lap, and they were both comfortable. Her conversation with Harry came back to her full force. Was she in danger?
Was she falling in love with Sirius Black?
Would he catch her?