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Vivre Aimer Bruler Mourir by shimmy

Format: Novella
Chapters: 3
Word Count: 26,166
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Strong Violence, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers

Genres: Romance, AU
Characters: Harry, Ron, Hermione, Lupin, Sirius
Pairings: Other Pairing

First Published: 03/24/2008
Last Chapter: 09/18/2008
Last Updated: 09/18/2008

Summary:



Enormous thank yous to Musicbox at tda for this amazing banner!

After Ron is recruited by Voldemort in his seventh year, all those who fought to help him are in danger.  Taking refuge at Grimmauld Place, Hermione and her best-friend's godfather find themselves isolated.

As the saying goes, there's no aphrodisiac like loneliness.

Ignore HBP and DH and the title is inspired from an Atreyu song.


Chapter 3: I Don't Mind You Keeping Me on Pins and Needles

A/N:  This chapter is named for 'Heart-Shaped Glasses' by Marilyn Manson.

As a note, this chapter was originally written differently but to remain ToS compliant, content was cut and much of the remaining was changed.  I hope you still all like it.

Mia xx




If Hermione was going to be honest with herself, she felt a little ridiculous.

 

That morning she had paid special attention to her mascara, going as far as re-doing one eye completely.  She had changed outfits three times, striking all sorts of poses in her mirror.  She wanted to look her best.  She wanted to look pretty.  Although this seems like a perfectly normal desire, it was the reasons behind her wish that made her feel silly.  She knew that somewhere in her subconscious, it was for him.  Sirius.

 

After her arduous attempt at makeup, Hermione had settled on a pale blue dress that she felt showed off her waist.  She had examined this from various angles, feeling horribly narcissistic on recollection.  She had met him near the door, after a quick calming pep talk as she paced in her room.  Honestly, this was just Sirius and she wished that didn’t matter to her the way it did.

 

She grew hot in the face as she felt his eyes assess her.  It was a quick up and down glance but it was definitely enough to make her blush.  She tried not to perform the same eye movements over his figure, but it was inevitable.  He had chosen jeans and a casual shirt, while his shoulders were sheathed with a cloak.  He some how had accomplished a very appealing masculine outfit without it even seeming like he tried.  He probably hadn’t.

 

“Before we go,” he spoke.  “I would just like to do something.”  Sirius raised his wand slowly at Hermione who showed no sign of flinching.  He muttered a spell which she didn’t make out.  Sirius looked at her proudly and she found this odd as she didn’t feel any different.  He must have noticed her facial expression because he told her to go and look in the mirror.

 

When she caught sight of her reflection, she was slightly shocked.  Not because she felt negatively but because it was unexpected.  Her hair, which was usually a cascade of waist length chestnut curls and spirals, was now a dead straight, black, bob.  Naturally, Hermione preferred her original hair but this didn’t look as bad as she could have imagined it might have looked.  The tapered nature of the cut emphasized her jaw and cheekbones in an almost feline way.  She quite liked it.

 

“I thought changing you’re appearance would work as a safety precaution,” he explained.  She nodded in agreement.

 

They strolled at a gentle pace through the streets of London.  It was still a little chilly but no where near winter temperatures and the distinct lack of wind made the day a very pleasant one for an outing.  Eventually, they reached the Leaky Cauldron and Hermione felt suddenly more ridiculous.  As the door squeaked open, she and Sirius were greeted with the unnerving hush of silence in a previously noisy forum.  Everyone in the pub was staring at them.  Some of the patrons tried to hide this poorly but others openly gaped.  She blushed feeling silly, she hated attention.

 

However, Hermione knew it was not her that they were all entranced by; she knew from the way she felt their eyes pierce right through her to the figure behind.  They were all looking at Sirius.  She felt, suddenly, very sorry for him.  Although he had been formally cleared by the Wizengamot, clearly society held their reservations towards the notorious supposed mass murderer.  She could here them all whispering.

 

Sirius did a very good job pretending as though he was temporarily unable to see, hear or care about the patrons of the Leaky Cauldron.  Hermione would have applauded him on this, if it would not wound his ego as she knew it would.  Somewhere behind his eyes, however, she could see that he was not pleased about the effect he had on the public.  It really wasn’t fair; not at all.  Sirius had lost his best friend, been locked up for twelve years, on the run for another two and finally had almost died.  His simple mistake of trusting the wrong man had damaged his life irreparably.  He had suffered too much already, now he was forced to endure this.  Public rejection and notoriety.

 

Hermione would not have it.  She refused to stand in the corner watching an ignorant society judge an innocent man.  She righteously grasped all the courage she owned as a Gryffindor and walked further into the pub.  She haughtily brushed off all the opposing stares she received as she grabbed Sirius’s hand, dragging him with her.

 

“Come on Sirius, let’s go,” she spoke, cutting the resounding silence.  He smiled and walked in line with her as she led the pair of them out the back entrance towards Diagon Alley.  Once outside, he laughed openly.

 

“Honestly Hermione, I think I underestimated you,” he said.

 

“Sorry,” she said quietly letting go of his hand and beginning to look for the magic brick in the wall.

 

“Don’t be sorry.  I just meant that I thought you would definitely shy away from that sort of public reception, rather than walk straight through it.  To be honest, for a moment I thought you were going to back straight out of the Leaky Cauldron altogether,” he informed her with a slight frown.

 

“What kind of a Gryffindor would I be if I fled in the face of some ignorant pub patrons?” she questioned him.

 

“That’s a good point,” he agreed.

 

“I was just so angry at the way they looked at you.  You did nothing wrong and even after you’ve been cleared you still can’t go into a pub without stares.  It’s not fair,” she fretted.  “Honestly, I feel like going back in there and hexing everyone inside,” she said heatedly.

 

“Calm down darling,” he said placing one hand on each of her shoulders.  “I’m used to it by now.”

 

She grunted angrily.  “But Sirius, you shouldn’t have to be used to it!  It should never happen in the first place,” she said with a defeat in her tone.  He shushed her and pulled her into a warm embrace.

 

“It’s okay.  I don’t care about any of those people.  They don’t mean anything to me and all the people who do mean something have never treated me like a fugitive.  So don’t be upset for me,” he explained.  “And honestly, I hardly noticed anyone in the Leaky Cauldron after your little arbitrary act of dominance.”

 

She broke away from him and smiled into the ground.  “Happy to have distracted,” she said returning to look for the brick.

 

“It was most endearing,” he spoke, just as she tapped the brick, from close behind her.  He was so close in fact that she jumped slightly.  She had definitely not expected him to be so near.  She twirled around to face him.

 

Their eyes locked and the moment stretched beyond its traditional capacity.  The archway in the brick wall appeared, providing access to the busy wizard district but the two did not relinquish their gaze.  It wasn’t until a loud thunder bolt cracked through the sky that they turned from each other.  Hermione felt her face heat up and Sirius smiled.

 

“Come on, let’s go,” he said grasping her hand and pulling her into the busy alley.

 

After some much needed fresh air, the pair eventually made their way to a pub down the end of Diagon Alley for some butterbeer.  Hermione had of course dragged Sirius into every book shop in proximity and a few robes shops she might add.  He didn’t actually seem to mind this as much as he should of.  This was particularly evident when Hermione opted to try on a rather low cut set of bottle green robes.  In turn, Sirius had dragged her into several quidditch stores but they were less frequent than her book shops.  They both had enjoyed venturing into the Weasley twins’ joke shop.  Fred and George had bid them a warm hello and had sworn not to inform the Weasley matriarch of their unscheduled outing.  For if they did, Sirius and Hermione would both be sorely punished.  They finished the day with purchasing excessive amounts of sweets, which they would enjoy for the next week.

 

With their arms loaded with their numerous purchases, the pair stalked down the lane further towards the popular pub.  Sirius noticed fine water droplets catching in Hermione’s hair.  They looked almost like delicate crystals against her straight black lock.  It was this beautiful sight that alerted him that it was raining slightly.  They approached the end of the lane and Sirius noticed a crowd by the entrance of the pub.  It had just started to sprinkle and the queue to enter was already far too lengthy in his opinion.  Hermione eyed this with distaste.

 

“I’m sure there’s a back entrance.  We can channel our inner Marauder and sneak in,” she chirped.  Hermione left his side and darted into a nearby small alley.  He smiled and waited for her to come back out.  The queue would subside eventually.  A loud booming thunder was the signal for the light sprinkling to turn into a rhythmic splatter of heavy drops.  Maybe it was good that Hermione was looking for a back entrance, Sirius mused.

 

He let his eyes fall back to the line of people.  Witches and wizards alike were covering their heads with copies of the Daily Prophet, shopping bags, their hands and anything else that might be shield from the rain.  He felt the rain drip down the sides of his face.  He turned to the alley.  Hermione still wasn’t back.  He frowned.  Sirius called her name and then again loudly.  She probably couldn’t hear him through the noise of the shoppers and the storm.

 

He sighed dejectedly and left his place in the queue to go and find out what she was doing.  He reached the mouth of the small alley and was shocked by the sight that greeted him.  A death eater, unmistakable in black robes and a mask, held her around the back with a wand to the throat.  Two others stood on either side of her, each yelling questions in turn.

 

Sirius drew his wand and strode quietly into the alley.  He hoped to catch them unawares, the sound of his feet touching the stone was masked by the now bucketing rain.  Unfortunately, Hermione saw him and the direction of her gaze gave him away.  The two spare death eaters strode fiercely towards him.  Sirius shot various spells at them but he was out numbered and they easily dodged and deflected everything he produced.

 

He would have turned to run but he could not leave Hermione.  One death eater hit him across the face, while the other plucked his wand from his hand.  Each captured one of his struggling arms as he urged forward to free the girl infront of him.  She held her ground vigilantly, as the death eater’s wand dug slightly further into her neck.  Sirius refused to stop struggling.

 

“Where is Harry Potter?  I’m losing patience mudblood,” the death eater beckoned.

 

“I’ve already told you, I don’t know,” she spat forcefully.

 

“We have no veritaserum here but there are certainly other ways of loosening your tongue.  Familiar with the cruciatus curse?” the death eater spoke almost jovially.

 

“It won’t do you any good.  I don’t know where he is,” Hermione cried almost convincingly.  The death eater yanked her head back by her hair, to expose more neck and she screamed in pain.

 

“Don’t toy with me!” he growled.

 

“Let her go!” Sirius cried.  He copped a knee to the stomach for his remark and fell loosely downwards.  He would have fallen to the ground had he not been supported by the death eaters on either side.

 

Hermione screamed through the rain at the sight of a wounded Sirius.  The death eater holding her from behind threw her back against the opposing wall and slapped her hard across the face.

 

“Stay quiet mudblood or I’ll be forced to shut you up manually,” he told her maliciously.  His hands around her arms held her still with a bruising force.  She winced.  The heavy rain had drenched her blue dress.  She felt slightly ill as the death eater noticed its transparency with keen eyes.

 

“You may be a mudblood, but you are a pretty little mudblood aren’t you,” he said ripping her cardigan and slipping a strap of her dress down her shoulder.  Sirius, witnessing this, struggled harder against the grip of the men either side of him.

 

Hermione turned her head away from the brutal man as he shoved his body forcefully against hers.  He reached for the hem of the dress and began to rip it upwards.  She shuddered and flinched.  He pressed his mouth to her neck administering a hard bite to her flesh.  She yelled and kicked at his legs.

 

“Get the fuck off me!” she cried forcefully ramming the heel of her shoe into any available part of the man assaulting her.  He laughed hoarsely and covered her mouth with his hand.

 

She quickly bit down on the available flesh and he yelped in pain.  She took this opportunity to thrust her high heel into the bridge of his right foot.  He groaned and doubled over slightly.  Hermione pushed him backwards and forcefully brought her knee into his groin.  He fell to the ground and hunched over.

 

Witnessing the scene, one of the death eaters holding Sirius had moved to help his comrade.  Sirius had taken his newly freed hand and connected it with the remaining death eater’s face.  He heard a satisfying crunch and then applied the same knee to the groin tactic as Hermione.  As the man lay cowering on the wet ground, Sirius searched through his pockets for his wand.  He found it and immediately turned his wand on the death eater advancing on Hermione.

 

He hit him with a petrificus totalus.  The death eater fell forwards on the slippery stone below.  Sirius ran to Hermione, who was being attacked at the ankle by the first death eater.  He kicked the man in the stomach and grabbed Hermione by the waist.  He ran forwards to the mouth of the small alley and then clutched her tightly as he disapparated.

 

 

*****

 

 

The pair arrived on wobbly legs on the door step of number twelve Grimmauld Place.  Sirius was still firmly clutching Hermione as he opened the door hurriedly.  He backed her inside, dripping water all over the floor.  He didn’t care in the slightest.  He shut the door quickly and locked it.  Once he had cast several locking charms and added and extra ward, he relaxed and leant against the door frame breathing hard.

 

Hermione sat on the floor clutching her arms around herself.  Her ripped cardigan was plastered to her arms and he ripped dress hung limply off her frame and dripped water on the floor.  Sirius peeled off his wet cloak and pulled it around her exposed body.  She flinched ever so slightly at the contact.  She hid it well but he was too perceptive not to notice.

 

“Are you okay Hermione?” he realized this was a useless and redundant question as he asked it but he didn’t know what else to say.

 

“No permanent damage done,” she insisted, although she kept her head down and her arms wrapped around herself.  He could see that she was still very shaken.  He wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back soothingly.

 

“How could I have let this happen?” she whispered and straightening herself in an attempt to stand.

 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he comforted.

 

“But I did!” she yelled throwing up her hands.  Sirius’s cloak fell to the floor and pooled at her feet.  “I put everyone in danger.  If they had brought veritaserum with them, those death eaters could have found out about head quarters.  They could have found out where Harry is!” she exclaimed.

 

“Calm down,” he soothed her.

 

“Calm down?  Sirius how can you just stand there like nothing happened?  This is your bloody fault too,” she pointed out angrily.

 

“My fault?” he said reflecting some of her temper.

 

“Yes! Today was your stupid suggestion!” she yelled at him.

 

“You didn’t have to say yes,” he reasoned.

 

“I know.  I’m not trying to skirt the blame, unlike you!” she accused.

 

“I bloody well am not! I think you should just calm down,” he yelled at her.

 

“I’d like to see you calm the fuck down if you were very nearly raped!” she cried walking from the loft and into the sitting room.  He followed her with angry stomps.  “I can’t believe this!”

 

“Well bloody well believe it Hermione.  You agreed to come out today.  Deal with it,” he sneered childishly.  She drew herself up to her full height and approached him with her flaring temper.

 

“But I wouldn’t have come out today if hadn’t pressured me into it!  I wouldn’t have had those filthy death eater’s hands on me either if you had come to find me a little bit sooner!” she accused.  Sirius growled fiercely and shoved her back against the nearest wall.  Although he immediately regretted his decision, he refused to stand down.  He approached her slowly.

 

“Do not accuse or speak to me like that Hermione! I am an adult!” he yelled.

 

She used his close proximity to slap him hard across the face.  “Then bloody well act like one!” she spat.  Her words should have shocked him more so than they had.  He was used to feeling like one of the children.  Molly certainly treated him this way.  He never thought that it was because a fault of his own that this image was forged.  Maybe that’s what Hermione was trying to say, however bluntly.

 

Hermione was breathing heavily, the shock from being thrown against the wall still evident in her face.  Her cardigan fell around her elbows, while her dress hung off one shoulder exposing a black bra and ripped to the waist baring a milky leg.  She regretted speaking so angrily to Sirius but she was scared and shaken.  She didn’t want to cry and the only other release for her emotions was anger.  So she let her temper soar.  However, the hurt expression on his face after her last words struck her harder than her slap had hit him.  She felt some of her anger relent and tears began to prick the backs of her eyes.

 

However inappropriate his thoughts may have been, with her flushed cheeks, ruffled clothes and soaked body, Sirius had never been more attracted to her.  He watched some of the anger release during their silence and he gently reached an arm out to chastely stroke her shoulder.  She brushed him off, trying to reinstate her temper.  He persisted.  He moved both hands to each of her shoulders and she forcefully moved from his touch.

 

“Get off me Sirius!” she yelled at him, some of her tears leaking out of her eyes.  With an eventual firm grasp on her shoulders, however much she struggled against it, he pulled her firmly and quickly against his body.

 

She weakly kicked at his legs to make him let her go.  She wanted to keep her anger so she didn’t have to cry.  She continued to squirm but he gently shushed her.  She couldn’t take it.  Hermione pushed back from him slightly, enough to move her head back and tilt her face upwards.  He supported the back of her neck as she looked up into his flaming but understanding eyes.

 

Wanton lust over came him and Sirius slowly tilted his head down to hers.  Once noting the invitation, she quickly closed the gap between their mouths with a bruising force.  She grasped onto the sides of his arms as he kissed her with a fiery passion.  She was pressed back up against the wall behind her as Sirius explored her mouth.  She arched a leg around his back, pulling him further into their feverish and rapid kissing.  He clutched her face between his hands as he savoured her mouth and sucked on her lips.

 

They broke for air and he pressed his forehead against hers.  She couldn’t be strong any longer.  Hermione broke down into sobs, sinking slowly downwards.  Sirius held her up as she limply collapsed in his arms, muttering words of apology.  Tears ran freely down her face as she cried out all her shock and frustration.

 

He lifted her frame into his arms as he carried her to warm by the fire with a strong alcoholic drink.

 

*****

 

She awoke with a start.

 

Hermione was breathing heavily.  She placed a hand to her chest to calm her heated gasps.  Once she felt composed, she heard it.  The noise that had woken her.

 

It was a pained moaning, soft screaming.  It wasn’t in the slightest suggestive, quite the opposite actually, she felt frightened by it.  She sat up in her four poster bed, moving the bed hangings aside and trying to adjust her eyes to absorb the darkness.  It was louder now.  It was a sinister noise that almost had goose-bumps on her back.

 

The only other person in the house was Sirius and if he was in trouble, she had to investigate.  She sprang from her bed and tip-toed to her door.  She opened it, managing to quieten its tell-tale creak as she closed it.  Her bare feet padded along the floor boards until they met the end of the hall and the door to Sirius’s room.

 

She gave the door a slight push and was glad it wasn’t locked as she forgot her wand.  The sounds were louder now.  She could see him grasping the sheets of his of his bed tightly and his face scrunched up under the moonlight that poured in through the window.  He was having a bad dream.

 

He looked so helpless.  It was almost unnerving that a grown man as powerful as Sirius seemed could be reduced to such a state.  It was most unusual, especially compared with what Hermione was used to seeing from him.  He was strong and rigid.  He was in control and always took the lead.  Exemplary of his general manner was the incident last week.

 

He had pulled her from the death eaters and taken them back to Grimmauld Place.  He had accepted her anger and managed to diffuse it.  Even after she was reduced into a quivering pile of sobbing, he took her to the fire and calmed her until she fell asleep.  He had then carried her to bed.  He was always so tough and commanding.

 

It was evident even more so during the next few days.  He had forced a discussion about what had happened in Diagon Alley and afterwards, particularly concerning their kiss.  He had informed her that he refused to take it back and circumstances were not allowed to get awkward.  She giggled at his commanding demeanor and internally smiled when she discovered he did not regret their intimacy.  It made her internal organs swell and feel as though they were about to burst.  It made her very happy indeed.

 

Sirius, so calm, so charming, so very much in control, was currently tossing and turning.  He was straining against the imaginary forces that threatened his tough exterior.  It was almost an overwhelming contrast.  It was only a dream, however, that was haunting him.  Dreams were insignificant in the scheme of things.

 

She sighed.  She had expected worse.  She had no idea what she had expected to see but Hermione felt comforted by the fact it was something she could deal with.  She strode over to his bed and sat on the side.  She brushed a sweaty lock of hair from his forehead before quietly muttering his name.  He didn’t stir.

 

“Sirius,” she said louder this time.  He gripped the sheets harder.  “Sirius!” she cried out very near his face.  She crawled over him and shook his shoulders.  “Sirius Black, wake up!”

 

He sat up quickly and violently, throwing her backwards onto the bed.  His eyes were fierce but softened upon seeing her.  He fell back against his pillows and she sat up to examine him.

 

“You were having a bad dream,” she said to him.

 

“I know,” he sighed and closed his eyes.

 

“I could hear it from my room,” she informed him.

 

“Sorry Hermione.  Thank you for waking me,” he replied breathing heavily.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she suggested.  He shook his head firmly.  She knew he had a great share of horrors in his past.  She didn’t know they still plagued him but she understood that he didn’t want to speak about it.

 

She moved closer so that she leant over him.  She brushed more hair from his face as she watched his breathing return to normal.  He looked almost calm by the time he opened his eyes and was ready to look at her.

 

His eyes widened slightly as he caught sight of her.  Normally this would have been the chastest situation but the circumstances were different.  It was the middle of the night and the moon was high over head.  Moonlight streamed in through his window, casting an illuminating glow on all the figures of his room, especially Hermione.

 

The light revealed her to Sirius.  She wore a loose, silken and black night-dress.  It was embellished with lace, the straps were brief and the neck-line was low.  She had left her dressing gown in her room in her haste to reach his room.  As a result, he had no trouble tracing the curves of her breasts through the sheer fabric.  They were taut against the silk connoting the cold or her nervousness.  Apparently she didn’t notice.  She merely concentrated on calming him.

 

He rose to a sitting position once more and his sheets pooled at his waist.  His torso was completely bare.  Hermione felt her breath hitch in her chest as her eyes explored the illuminated image of Sirius’s chiseled pectoral and abdominal muscles.  Her sight trailed downwards and she secretly wondered if he wore anything below the waist or if he liked to sleep in the buff.  Her question was answered as he leaned over to encircle her in a hug.  She caught sight of black cotton boxers.

 

His arms wrapped protectively around her.  He told himself it was to shield her from the cold but secretly he needed the contact.  She knew better his feelings than he did.  Hermione understood that he needed contact and comfort at the present.  It was not pleasant to be confronted with demons from the past and her feminine intuition told her he needed the warmth of her body to calm his senses.

 

Immediately, his body relaxed in her arms.  She held him tightly around and rubbed his back in a soothing motion.  He buried his face into her hair and breathed in its scent.  Suddenly, she moved to crawl into his lap but without breaking their embrace.  She straddled him as he rested his head on her shoulder.  Hermione pressed her cheek to the top of his head, feeling the regularity of his breathing against her chest.

 

He broke the hug and rubbed his palms up and down her upper arms, in an attempt to warm her.  She moved back from him slightly and took in his face.

 

“Do you feel better?” she asked seriously.  He nodded at her.

 

“Thank you,” he spoke.  She smiled back at him.

 

“Anytime,” she replied. 

 

Their proximity suddenly caught him like a bullet to the chest.  She sat, straddling his lap, with her scantily clad breasts projected very close to his face.  If he shifted slightly her hips would directly cradle his.  He could hear her steady breathing and wondered what her steady moans and pants would sound like.

 

Lust maintained the better of his will for a moment and he lightly placed a hand on the beginning of her exposed thigh, just near her knee.  She didn’t speak or move.  Slowly he brushed his hand up her leg until it met the fabric of her night-dress at the mid point.  He paused briefly but then continued the light path of his hand under the dress.  He heard her breath catch.  He moved his hand to the top of her thigh before moving his fingers softly down the side.  He traced little patterns on the delicate skin of her inner legs and he felt her quiver above him.

 

A strap of her gown fell down her shoulder and his free hand moved push it down further.  He splayed his fingers over the soft skin of her shoulder.  Slowly he moved his mouth over to place light kisses over the path of the strap.  His hot breath hit her skin and he felt her shudder.  His mouth trailed butterfly kisses up her arm, her shoulder and across her collar bone.  He brushed his mouth up her neck and slowly to her jaw.  Gently, he delicately connected with her mouth.  He touched his lips softly to hers and pulled back.  He moved in again, this time he slightly parted his lips over hers.  He kissed her again and this time she opened her mouth under his.

 

Her lips caught his in a tender rhythm.  Slowly and sensually they molded together, exploring and tasting.  Her lips felt like silk against his and the rough stubble of his upper lips softly grazed hers.  Their kissing was shallow, light and soft while his hand continued its gentle assault on her thigh.  She was warm and soft and the most comforting element in his realm.

 

Hermione had never experienced this before.  She of course had been kissed but never quite like this.  Although the kiss was slow and not in the least bit demanding, she had never felt such a heat.  Her whole body felt hot and she felt a sensual tingling building in her body.  She was aware of every point of their contact and it made her hotter.  She had kissed far more feverishly in the past and yet she had never received this response from her body.  Purely from his hand and their tender, slow kiss she felt unbelievably warm.

 

She broke from him and pressed her forehead to his.  “Sirius,” she whispered.  Her body was reacting so harshly to the simplest touches that she didn’t think she could continue.  She didn’t want to stop but she was afraid to carry on.  If she did, she would go too far.  It was all or nothing in this circumstance.

 

He hadn’t planned on moving further.  He knew he might have if they had continued.  He wouldn’t have known where to stop so maybe it was better that she had broken away now.  This wasn’t an ideal circumstance.  He was craving contact and it may not be specifically hers, this was why it was good for her to stop.  It wasn’t right for him to claim her in this way if it was only contact that he desired.  He knew that he did desire her but at the present he wasn’t clear if he desired her warmth or just the warmth of a woman.  She deserved a clear determination.

 

“Sirius, I’m sorry it’s just that-“ her nervous statement was cut off by him.

 

“It’s okay Hermione,” he insisted, removing his hand slowly from her leg.  Her retreat was induced by nervousness.  She didn’t know what to do with him.  He was older and more experienced.  She didn’t know how to be with him.

 

She inhaled deeply from her position and relaxed for a moment.  She slowly pulled away and off him.  She decided to head back to her room; it was a safer environment for her thoughts.  He watched her slide away and leave the bed in pursuit of the door.  Her sudden absence from his body was alarming and he was slightly unnerved by it.  Before she could envelop the door handle with her hand, he called out to her.

 

“Hermione?”

 

“Yes, Sirius,” she answered shakily.

 

“Would you stay here tonight?  Not for anything but just to sleep,” he spoke with an underlying fragility in his voice.  Normally she would have rejected the offer immediately but this was Sirius and his intentions were not underhanded.  He seemed slightly embarrassed to admit bluntly what he needed but she understood well enough.  He needed the contact.  He needed the presence of another being to comfort him and protect him from his dreams.  Maybe he needed her steady breathing to block out the thoughts of his past?  Horrors had just emerged within a dream and it must be a daunting prospect to face them without company.  She understood completely.

 

She wasn’t worried of ulterior motives, although the context typified that she should be.  He was a grown man, he was crying out to her for help and she couldn’t ignore his plea.  She was safe with him and she knew that.  She was only worried for his state of mind, which she would sooth with her presence.  As long as they kept their positions chaste she could be guaranteed a normal night’s sleep.

 

Without breathing a word, she strode back over to the bed and liberally pulled back the covers.  She entered slowly and heard him sigh audibly at the return of her presence.  His arms wrapped around her, drawing the warmth of her body back to him.  They spooned casually in the large bed feeling each other’s chest expand and contract.

 

Although their kiss had been unexpected, it felt natural to both parties.  It hadn’t worried them.  At the present, Hermione would usually have fretted immensely over the wrongness or the repercussions of their actions.  She would have worried over their circumstance or contextual situation but she couldn’t condone the thoughts.  He would have worried too, about what others would think or her impression of him but his head was calm too.  It was natural and they were natural.  It was indescribable in a way, as though this had been inevitable in the beginning and there was no escape.

 

Neither of them worried beyond the present to the future because they didn’t care.  They both ignored the implications of their actions because they couldn’t focus on that aspect.  They only focused on the feeling of rightness and correctness shooting out of their bodies.  They weren’t school girl and god-father anymore, they were man and woman and they fit like two pieces of a jig-saw.

 

*****

 

Hermione awoke the next morning to find that it was nearly the afternoon and she was still in Sirius’s bed.  The indent next to her was cold.  He had been gone for a while.  She yawned and stretched.  How could she have slept for so long?  She was slightly amazed by it.  She contemplated going down to get something to eat but she opted for a shower first instead. 

 

Hermione pushed down the bed covers and straightened her night gown before heading out of his room.  She stepped lightly down the hallway until she reached the bathroom.  She looked at herself in the mirror.  Her hair was a little messy but that was to be expected.  However, she had almost no trace of under eye-circles.  She must have needed that long sleep and at least she looked a little better for it.

 

She slipped her night gown off her shoulders and it pooled at her feet.  She adjusted the water in the shower to the correct temperature before stepping under the flow.  The hot water had an instantaneous calming effect.  It worked the knots out of her muscles and she began to relax under the stream of perfectly heated water.

 

She thought vaguely about last night.  She smiled at the images that came rushing into her head.  She moaned when she imagined what could have been.  Why had she stopped?  Why had they both stopped?

 

She shook her head when she traced her inhibitions down to inexperience.  What would she do when presented with the opportunity to be with him?  Surely he wouldn’t expect her to be as skilled as he was.  He had had years and years and years of experience to account for.  Hermione had experienced next to nothing.  He couldn’t really have expectations.  This assumption managed to placate her mind and make her more content.

 

Sirius, on the other hand, that was another question.  She had to admit that every intimacy between them, whether it be stealing books or cuddling in bed, had been initiated by him.  He made his actions very clear; he wanted her.  Maybe she had interpreted it wrong.  Maybe he wanted her only as a friend?  Her mind retracted those thoughts when she remembered that both their kisses had been due to him.  Why had he stopped then?

 

Surely it was not because he was afraid she didn’t want to continue.  She hoped that had not been then reason.  The idea that he was self conscious was laughable, so it wasn’t that.  It was something else.  Something she would have to uncover.  Or she could try to make it better known that she too wanted him.  If she made her feelings towards him very clear then maybe all inhibitions would dissipate.

 

She would like that.

 

Sirius had been sitting by the kitchen window with his cigarettes.  He had eaten breakfast and had waited at the table for Hermione to join him.  However, she slept long past him and he had no intention of waking her when it seemed that she needed the sleep.  He had then retreated to the window with cigarette after cigarette.  Remus told him it was a filthy habit but old habits die hard.  Hermione didn’t like it either, so he decided to take another shower before she woke.

 

He climbed the stairs and approached the bathroom.  The door was ajar and he could hear running water inside but for some reason the sound didn’t register.  He walked casually inside and suddenly froze just inside the doorframe.  Hermione was in the shower and he didn’t know why he hadn’t picked up on it.

 

His mind told him to slowly back out and close the door but he was temporarily stunned.  He hadn’t realized just how filled out she was until now.  Her tiny waist rounded out to a set of full womanly hips.  Her legs were fleshy but shapely and slender.  Water cascaded down her body, through her long hair and dripping down her neck, shoulders and chest.  She ran her hands through her hair so it fell in a long stream down her back. She turned slightly as the water continued to caress her skin.

 

It was one of the most sensual sights he had ever witnessed.  Thank goodness she had not yet opened her eyes to ruin the moment and catch him as a voyeur.

 

She was abosolutely stunning.  It was intoxicating to watch and listen as she sighed under the hot water.  She rubbed her chest and massaged her shoulders as her face contorted into an expression of contented pleasure.  Each drop of water that fell down her chest and her backside seemed to taunt him with an excruciating slowness.  She tipped her head back so the water fell more directly to her chest.

 

Finally his body reconnected with his mind, and he managed to back out of the bathroom and close the door.  He let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.  He felt a little seedy for witnessing what he had just witnessed and even worse for liking it.  Sirius did not consider himself a voyeur.  It had been an accident, however, and what man on the planet would not enjoy the sight of a wet and naked Hermione.

 

He shook his head, a manifestation of regained control and began to march back to his room.  He moved to make the bed.  Of course, it was a sloppy male job which really just involved pulling the covers back up to the pillows.  Done.  He tried to shake his head from thoughts of her sensual body but he found it was impossible.

 

Surely she had been moving and sighing just to tease him.  She couldn’t possibly act like that normally.  The thought that maybe she hadn’t been putting on a show was a pleasing one.  All this time that she had been staying with him, she had been moving and moaning like that.  Every morning.  He should have accidently walked in a few times more.

 

He shook his head more violently this time and headed back downstairs.  Hermione didn’t need old men lusting after her.  Of course she didn’t need it.  Maybe she wanted it though?  But even if she did, he should have more sense, shouldn’t he?  But what was sense these days anyway?  He shouldn’t be thinking about her.  He shouldn’t really.  She shouldn’t have thought about him but he knew she did.  He could see it in her face.  It was completely illogical but in this case it seemed that the illogical made the most sense of all.

 

He heard the shower stop.  She was probably getting out now.  Rubbing a towel down her legs and wrapping it across her chest.  His thoughts were again automatically drawn to her.  She was a magnet.  He gritted his teeth angrily.  Usually he had more self control than this.  He didn’t like being out of control.

 

His expression relaxed when he thought of last night.  He had stopped.  He had stopped because he wasn’t sure at that time if he really wanted her or just another warm body.  Now he was positive.  He wanted her and he wanted her in every way imaginable.

 

She had seemed tense under the shower.  Almost as tense as he seemed now.  Maybe she wanted to be calmed down, to unwind, a little release?  The thought didn’t seem so unwise.  He thought again of her bouncing breasts and decided that he should really do her a favour and try to release her tension.  His mind was made up and he had a semi-logical excuse.  With long strides, Sirius began to re-ascend the stairs.

 

A faint knock on the door had her rise from drying her hair.  She slipped on a bath robe before answering her door.  She opened it only slightly and caught sight of grey eyes.  Hermione let the door fall open to reveal Sirius.  He stood tall and strong with his gaze piercing hers.  He took one step inside her room and allowed the door to fall closed behind him.  She took an appropriate step back and he smiled slightly.  He took another step, so she took another.  His mouth curved at the edges every time she moved back from him.  She ran out of room, however, and now found herself backed against a wall.

 

Sirius stared down into her eyes with such an intensity it made her shiver.  He never broke eye contact.  Her breathing quickened.  He lifted one hand slightly to caress her upper arm.  She wanted to look over but his gaze had her eyes locked on his and she could not look away from that fiery grey heat.  She felt warmth rising in her chest and she longed for him to say something.  He didn’t. 

 

He gently and slowly pushed the loose neckline of her robe over her right shoulder as if allowing her time to protest.  She didn’t.  It fell to her elbow.  He, slightly faster this time, pushed the other side over her left shoulder leaving her chest completely exposed.  He finally broke the eye contact to stare down at her.  She could feel his eyes on her body and accordingly grew hotter.  He slid two fingers up and down her cheek as if to calm her somewhat.  She looked back into his eyes and he smiled devilishly at her.  He traced his fingers from her cheek down her neck and across her collarbone.  Further down until his hand met the base of her left breast.  He then proceeded to move his finger back up to the top of her breast and back down again.  She quivered in response and sighed slightly. 

 

He stopped to move his hands down to the tie of her robe which he undid with an abrupt tug.  It fell to the ground and pooled around her feet.  She now stood completely nude infront of a devilish and debonair Sirius Black.  He pressed himself up against her and kissed her full on lips.  She opened her mouth agreeably under his as his tongue begged for entrance.  Her knees buckled from his abrupt certainty but she was not able to fall as she was held so tightly against the wall by his body.  She could feel his eagerness against her abdomen which made her hot and dizzy.  He broke away from her to look down at her face.  She bit her lip and stared at him with a wanton lust which he returned. 

 

She felt sick with lust.  The feeling was not one she could describe in entirety.  It was a burning sensation or a dull ache in the pit of her abdomen.  She had never experienced such a feeling before.  It made her writhe and squirm.  She was missing something.  Him.  She needed him.  She felt mad, temporarily driven to the edge.

 

Once again she could not break from his eyes although she wanted to as she heard the clink of a belt unbuckling.  In one swift movement they united, grabbing her thigh upwards around his waist for access.  She moaned with the sudden pressure and rested her head on his shoulder.  He remained completely stationary until she looked back up into his eyes.  When once again honey met grey, he moved abruptly and she was pressed harder against wall.  Suddenly feverish, she tugged violently at his shirt.  She received an animalistic satisfaction as the buttons burst off and went flying around the room, leaving his shirt open and chest exposed. 

 

Like he had for her, she pushed the shirt over his shoulders and down his back, revealing his bare torso.  He removed his arm, briefly, from supporting her leg to be free of the shirt once and for all and it landed at their feet joining Hermione’s robe.  He drew her into another hasty kiss as she was sent further back into the wall repeatedly.  She was moaning against his mouth and he lifted her higher so she no longer touched the ground and was supported by only Sirius’s strongly manly arms. 

 

Her hands ran through his hair, twirling and tugging to match each of his movements while the wood began to creak in protest.  He backed away from the wall, her legs tight around his waist.  He moved over to the bed and laid her down on the sheets.  Briefly admiring the view, he was pulled down by her.  He could feel her shuddering beneath him and her hot breath on his shoulder.  He supported himself with his arms and his elevation allowed him to see the slightly pained look on her face.  She sucked in deep breaths as his body moved with synchronicity along hers.  Her hands ran up and down his back, clawing him slightly.

 

Hermione was not ‘flying higher to heaven’ or ‘exploding into the night sky’ as romance novels had promised her.  She couldn’t have removed herself from the present had she been forced on pain of death.  All that was in her mind was his slick skin sliding on hers, his muscular arms rigid as they supported his weight, the violent creaking of the bed as they moved and of course the sense of completion she felt.  She arched her back and emitted husky gasps that matched his eager groans.

 

Her legs suddenly locked tightly around him as she flipped him over.  She tilted her head back with her body as she now sat atop him.  Her hair spilt down her back and shoulders and bounced slightly with her movements.  His hands dug roughly into her hips as if begging her to continue on.  His eyes followed her head thrown back, down her long throat to her body that shook in ecstasy.  She panted and moaned with more intensity as she was filled with such a violent heat that she was sure she was about to explode.  Sirius felt her body shudder and before she let pleasure overcome her he spoke.

 

“Look at me,” he said simply.

 

She tilted her head forwards and caught his eyes just as she tensed up and cried out his name.  He caught her hips again and beckoned her onwards as her body still reverberated. As he watched her shaking above him he slowly wrapped him arms around her middle and pulled her down on top of him before flipping them once more.  They had run out of bed and hit the floor over the other side. 

 

This did not deter them in the slightest, however.  Hermione planted her feet and bent her knees.  Using his arms as support, he nuzzled into her neck leaving love bites in his wake.  Her hands were at his back again, grazing him slightly with her nails as she ran them up and down his spine.  His movements became more forceful and his groaning louder.  Hermione pushed his face up to hers as she caught his mouth in a passionate kiss.  With his last movement he grunted against her mouth and in the back of his throat.  She held him tightly as heat coursed through his body and he finally collapsed beside her, panting deeply. 

 

They were both exceptionally sweaty and Hermione wiped the wet sticky hair from his brow and closed eyes, as he lay beside her on the dusty floor boards.  He smiled slightly and pulled her toward him with his arm.  She pillowed her head on his chest, tasting his salty sweat and heaving to catch her breath.

 

“Are you okay?” he asked slowly and in between breaths.

 

She laughed throatily and nodded against his chest, “Yeah.  Are you?”

 

He grinned.  “Yeah I’m fine.”

 

“That was…,” she sighed trying to find the right word.  Sirius felt that the hand she placed over her thumping heart was explanation enough.  He laughed and tilted his head to kiss her.  He gently stroked her shoulder as they basked in silence.  All that could be heard was their bodies trying to catch up on belated breaths.

 

“So do you want to see it?” he asked breaking the silent interlude.

 

She supported her body up with an elbow and stared down at him.  She seemed very puzzled.  “What do you mean?” she asked him in reply.

 

Sirius grinned wolfishly.  “My other tattoo. Do you want to see it?”  His words clicked inside her head and she nodded vigorously.  He took a hand and pointed to an area just south of his hip bones.  There, slung low across the V of his abdomen, were four curly scripted words.

 

“Vivre, Aimer, Bruler, Mourir,” she read.  Hermione gently traced the letters with her finger tips.  He quivered in response.  “A personal motto?” she questioned.

 

“Yeah something like that,” he smiled.

 

“I must say I do prefer Carpe Diem.  It feels a little less macabre,” she breathed.  She thought silently for a moment and then broke out into animated laughter.

 

“What is it?” he asked slightly amused by her actions.

 

“I just had a shower and now I’m all sweaty,” she moaned shaking her head.

 

“Go and have another now,” he suggested brushing her arm.  She stood up suddenly and towered over him.  He was still not used to the sight of her and his mouth hung open slightly as he took in her form again.

 

“Well, Mr Black,” she spoke huskily.  “You’re pretty sweaty yourself, care to join me?” she asked with a sly grin.  He looked devilishly at her and rose accordingly.  She began to grow hot again under his gaze.

 

“My pleasure,” he replied softly.  She reached to take his hand but before she could complete the movement had vigorously thrown her over his wide shoulder.  He picked her up and walked fluidly to the bathroom.  She playfully cried to be put down and he answered this with a little slap on her behind.  She squealed.

 

“Sirius Black!  When I am down, I’m going to give you something to really grunt about!” she threatened.  Sirius chuckled.

 

He had a rather strong inkling that he had just opened the flood gates to a force that could not be reckoned with.  He smiled happily thinking of the days to come.

 

Bring it on.


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