Back for Good

Hermione awoke with a gasp. That pain....

She took a moment to take in her surroundings. She was in her bed, seemingly healthy and whole. Sirius was gone. She heard the shower running, and her heart rate slowed a little.

She hadn’t predicted any sort of pain from the bond at their consummation. Not even Snape had suggested anything negative would happen. But it was undeniable: something bad had happened after she and Sirius had made love. The ripping sensation left echoes in her body, and she could almost still feel it in her bones.

Despite a general sense of completion, which could have been from a good night’s sleep or the wildly fulfilling sex from the day before but was most likely due to finally fulfilling the needs of the bond, Hermione nevertheless felt like something was missing.

Why can’t anything just go as advertised? Why do I always feel like I take two steps back for every one forward? Hermione wished she could claim everything was well and good in the world, but she’d be lying. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t a tangible thing that she could take note of and research, but an underlying feeling that was no less intense for its vagueness.

Hermione reached for Snape’s salve on the bedside table. She didn’t need it between her legs like Snape had suggested she might, but she definitely needed it on her chest. Her wound was achy and sore, not to mention itchy as hell. But itchy was good. It meant healing.

Applying the medicine, Hermione was glad to note the cuts actually looked a little better. They were less angry, less red, and the cut she’d inflicted only the day before had closed up already. The latest one might not even scar.

Satisfied with the salve, Hermione got up to get dressed for work. She’d taken two days off now and couldn’t afford to keep that up, financially or responsibly. As much as she hated her job, she had a team to think about.

Dressed in a smart grey pencil skirt and a dark purple jewel-toned blouse, Hermione went downstairs to make tea. She generally made breakfast as well, but only made toast today.

Sirius was really taking his time in the shower, and Hermione wondered if she’d even get to see him before she had to leave.

Answering her unspoken question, Sirius entered the kitchen, somehow looking like he could rule the world in only a white towel and dripping hair. He leaned against the doorframe and studied her, and Hermione couldn’t help but shiver at the appraisal.

Apparently deciding she’d suffered enough, he came up and slid his arms around her, drawing her body against his damp form. She tried to pull back but relented, realizing the fight would end with her clothing wet one way or another, since her struggles invariably made him fight harder for whatever it was he wanted.

He brought a hand up to softly stroke the skin of her jaw and tilted her head up for a kiss. His lips were soft and insistent against her, licking the seam to request entrance. She acquiesced because denial was never an option with Sirius.

Just as she melted into the embrace, he broke the kiss.

“Did you feel that pain last night, after we had sex?” he questioned, and Hermione started a little to hear it spoken of so... casually. It was anything but, to her.

“Yes, that was unexpected.” That, of course, was an understatement. It had felt as though her soul had been... oh, my gods. Could their souls have been restored?

“Sirius, do you think the pain was connected to our bond? I mean, I felt like my soul was being torn somehow... what if the bond... reversed, or something?” Hermione gulped. Did she feel relief or disappointment at the idea? She quite liked Sirius, more now than she even had in her youth, that much was certain. But did she want to be bound to him forever? And equally important, did he want that? It would good to have the bond dissolved, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t know. I definitely felt a deep pain, as in deeper than just bodily. What do you think it means?” Sirius looked concerned but not overly so, and his calmness helped even Hermione’s breathing.

“I can’t be sure. But maybe we should test the bond? See if it’s still intact?” She hated the idea that this might cause Sirius pain, but she figured it wouldn’t get to the point it had last time, and if they began to feel ill-effects, they would be able to be together to satisfy it.

He nodded, obviously thinking. “Okay. Go to work and we’ll see how badly we feel by lunchtime. If we don’t feel ill or anything, we’ll wait until you get home from work. By then, we should have an answer.”

“It’s a plan, then. Maybe I should ask Professor Sna—” She didn’t finish because Sirius cut her off with a kiss. She fell into it, expressing her concerns without saying a word, knowing Sirius wouldn’t know why she felt so distressed, any more than she did.

“Let’s try to figure out this one thing before involving... other parties, yeah?”

Rolling her eyes, Hermione agreed.

“Yesterday you said something about an invisible book? I meant to ask earlier, but... more important things happened.” He predictably winked at her, and, feeling bold, she winked back. Laughing, Sirius continued, “I wanted to have a look at it.”

Hermione thought about where she’d put it in her hurry to get home to him from Snape’s office. She must have put it on the coffee table.

Feeling for it, her fingers hit an edge, and she picked it up. “Here it is, but you need blood to see it, and I don’t want you to cut yourself. I can tell you what it says.”

“No worries, I won’t go hacking up my chest just to do research. You can fill me in later. I just wanted to see it.”

Hermione handed it to him, grabbed her briefcase and walked to the Floo. She wanted to go to Sirius for a kiss goodbye, but that felt so... domestic, and she wasn’t sure that he would want that from her.

Sirius solved the problem by grabbing her upper arms and fairly hauling her body against his.

“Thought you could get away without saying a proper goodbye?” he murmured against her lips, punctuating with a lick on her mouth.

“Of course not, Sirius,” she whispered, parting her lips to accept his ‘goodbye.’ He kissed her deeply before releasing just as she was falling into it, for the second time that morning. She gave him a light glare, only a four on the Hermione-Glare scale, and tossed some Floo powder into the hearth, stating her department at the Ministry, and whirling away in a dramatic whoosh of flames.

Sirius weighed the book in his hands. He’d meant what he said; he had no intentions of cutting himself to read the words. He trusted Hermione’s near-perfect recall, and, while not a stranger to pain, he was averse to it on a personal level. He’d seen the book, or at least had known of its existence, from when he’d come across it in the library. He hadn’t thought that it was the book, nor had he remembered to ask Hermione about it before.

He’d been so disappointed in his little bluestocking when he’d learnt that she’d used blood magic to read the book. That had been highly careless of her, and careless was not her style.

He went to sit on the sofa, lounging on his back and resting his head on his hands. He studied his boots, wondering what exactly he thought about the possibility of the bond being reversed. He definitely hated being tethered to her and worried about what could happen if they were somehow divided. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of dying from sex withdrawal. On the other hand, he wondered if Hermione would consider dating him outside the realm of the bond. She was a brilliant girl and a brilliant shag... Sirius cringed internally at the term. She was definitely more than a shag, and yet the bachelor in Sirius rebelled against putting a word to that.

So basically, I want to be a free man with access to Hermione’s body and heart. If that wasn’t a case of wanting your cake and to eat it too, Sirius didn’t know what was. If Remus were here, he would know exactly what to do, and better still, he would tell Sirius what to do. Sirius closed his eyes against the barrage of emotions that hit him when he thought of Remus. It still hurt to think about, and Sirius hated being the only Marauder left. He felt pressure in that, as though he had a duty to not let his friends down (except Peter—that shit could rot in hell).

Thinking of Remus made Sirius remember little Teddy, who lived with his cousin Andromeda. He desperately wanted to meet the little guy, one of his only remaining family members, since Tonks was his cousin. He’d been seriously remiss in reconnecting with the real world. He had a responsibility to certain people, and he needed to see it through. As much as he’d love to live in a little world with only Hermione, it wasn’t realistic.

He did worry about the fallout Hermione might experience. She could be labelled a Dark witch because of her actions, and Sirius had lived with the stigma of being a Black for long enough to know that could be very alienating and disheartening, especially when it was untrue.

His mind made up to visit Teddy and Andromeda that night or the next day, Sirius felt better. It always helped to make a decision one way or another. The problem was, there were so many decisions to be made, it would be a wonder if he would ever feel normal again.

Deciding to put a stop to his maudlin musings, Sirius sent off an owl to Harry. He wanted to see his godson, to explain to him what was happening, and to hear about Teddy. He knew Harry was Teddy’s godfather, and it made him smile to think of Harry, little Harry, being Remus’ son’s godparent. I’ve missed so much....

Better not to dwell on those things, of course. He had a life to live and a responsibility to the witch who saved him to live it.

When lunchtime came around, Hermione couldn’t sort out her feelings. The bond was not putting any sort of pressure on her whatsoever. She felt fine. She hung her head. I’ve lost him. For what man would stay with Hermione Granger when he was a sex god? And now that her knowledge of sex was more substantial thanwhat she’d read in PlayWitch, she knew Sirius was a sex god.

Heat flooded her when she remembered the intensity of her orgasm, the heat of him within her, the way she’d woken up still wet with his come between her legs. But more than that, his eyes....

No matter. If their souls were reinstated, she would learn to live with it. At least she’d had him once; at least she’d gotten to know him better.

Hermione ignored the bitter tinge deep within when she’d Firecalled home to have Harry answer the Floo and relate the message that Sirius was ‘doing just fine without her.’ When she felt the emptiness inside her, she knew, for the first time, that it wasn’t just the bond that needed Sirius.

“So, you and Hermione, yeah? How’s that going?”

Sirius rolled his eyes. He might have to teach his godson a thing or two about subtlety.

“It’s going great,” he answered. “We’re both a little uncomfortable with the situation, but things are getting easier, I think.”

Harry nodded. “I worry about her, you know. She hasn’t had much experience in the dating department, and to go from nothing to you has got to be tough.”

“Are you saying I’m high-maintenance, Harry James Potter?” Sirius teased.

“Not at all. I’m just saying you’re a lot more than she’s used to. And I worry that... you know. She might not be able to handle it.”

Sirius was curious. “In what way?”

Harry shrugged, and Sirius got the impression he was hiding something. “I don’t know. She just hasn’t been with many guys... any guys, really. Just—be careful with her, you know? With her heart.”

Sirius clapped Harry on the shoulder and smiled. “I will, Harry. She is lucky to have a friend like you, and vice versa. I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.”

Harry smiled, looking reassured. “Good, because I’d have to kill you if you did, of course.”

Sirius laughed. “Of course.”

Harry pulled a pack of Exploding Snap cards from one pocket and a bottle of Firewhisky from the other, a cheeky grin on his face and looking so much like his father that Sirius’ heart hurt.

“You’re on, Potter.”

Hermione walked through the front door of Grimmauld Place, having decided to Apparate home and save her silk shirt from further Floo damage, and was accosted by an impressively drunk Harry Potter.

“Is that my woman?” Sirius called from another room, and Hermione snorted.

“No, it’s Hermione!” she called back. A part of her squealed at being called his woman, but a larger part rebelled against the idea of being a possession.

Harry gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek, and stage-whispered, “Better not get him started, ‘Mione, he’s had a lot to drink!” He laughed heartily and dragged Hermione’s amused form to the sitting room, where Sirius was sprawled on the couch on his back, one leg on the floor and boots on.

Hermione took in the sight of a languorously reclined Sirius and sighed in pleasure before noticing the utter wreck of the room. Playing cards were everywhere, and that was no understatement. To add to that, they all looked as though they’d been shot with hexes, being scorched and half-burnt. A couple were still on fire!

She immediately doused the disasters-in-waiting and chuckled as Harry poured a shot for each of them.

“I thought I heard my girl’s voice!” Sirius slurred, grinning madly.

“And I thought I said I wasn’t your girl?” she countered.

“How can you deny me, love... after everything we’ve done together?” His voice had dropped to a sultry whisper, but Harry still picked up on the insinuation.

“You shagged my godfather, Hermione Granger?” he demanded, a sly smirk giving away his appalled tone.

“And it was the best bloody shag I ever had!” Sirius declared. Hermione took her shot and Sirius’. She would need it more than he, having to look after these maniacs.

“Hey! No fair. That had my name written all over it,” Sirius groused, reaching up with speed incongruous to his state and hauling Hermione facedown onto his body, settling her between his thighs and attacking her throat with wet, but somehow amazingly sexy kisses.

Harry groaned and protested, “None of that, now! I came for a game, not a show!”

Sirius broke away from her jugular long enough to quip, “Like I’d let you see anything!”

Harry blurted, “Nothing I haven’t seen before!” He laughed at his own self-perceived hilarity, and Hermione groaned.

Sirius froze against her neck. “What?” he whispered into her ear, voice suddenly clear and full of possessiveness.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake. We saved the world together, obviously he’s seen me naked a few times, circumstances called for it!”

“Yeah!” Harry agreed. “Circumstances like the time we were all hot and had no swimsuits, so we went in the buff!”

“Harry!” Hermione hissed, suddenly nervous about the tense body beneath her.

“Oh, yeah,” Sirius said, “Saving the world, one skinny dip at a time. Anything else you’d like to tell me, love?”

“You want a list of everyone who’s seen me naked?” Hermione questioned, voice almost as dangerous as Sirius’.

“In writing, actually. With updated home addresses, if you please.”

Before the bickering turned into full-scale Hermione-Sirius war a la before Sirius’ death, Ginny’s head appeared in the Floo.

“Harry! You had better be on your way home now, and you had better be sober upon arrival! Am I understood?” Her voice was bordering on shrill, and Sirius winced, making Hermione smirk.

“Yes, Gin. I was just leaving!” Ginny’s face disappeared and Harry pulled a Sobering potion from his robes. “Always prepared!” he announced with a wry grin before downing it, gathering what was left of his playing cards, and waving goodbye before stepping through the Floo.

Hermione was immediately reminded of her position atop Sirius when he turned them both over, pressing her facedown into the sofa beneath him, but relieving her of his weight by holding himself up on his elbows. She squirmed to get comfortable, and he bit the back of her neck, moaning and pressing his arousal against the back of her skirt.

“So, this list?” he prompted, licking her neck lightly.

“There’s no list,” she whispered, amazing at how quickly the heat from their little argument transformed into another kind of heat. “Just Harry and Ron, and my parents, I guess. Oh, and one time Moody walked into the bathroom while I was using the shower.”

Sirius growled, the noise causing an immediate reaction in her lower belly.

“Well, I’ll just have to prove that I don’t share what’s mine, won’t I?” he whispered dangerously.

“What is your obsession with owning me, Black?” Hermione shot back. “Three such statements in one night. Do I have your name tattooed on my arse or something?”

Sirius started to bunch up her skirt as if to check, and she laughed, hiking it back down and snaking out from beneath him.

“No, I don’t. And if you want me, you have to treat me with respect. I’m serious!”

He sat up and pulled her unresisting into his lap. “No, I am. Silly girl.”

She slapped his arm and he recoiled as if in great pain. “All right, all right! Really, love. I think you’ll see treating you with respect is the easiest thing in the world.”

Hermione smiled, placated. For now.




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Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought.

I just wanted to clarify that it isn't the lack of reviews that bothers me, just that there are so few HG/SB fans on this site. They are such an underrated couple, but I think they can be written with fantastic chemisty--at least, that is what I try to acheive! Although reviews are, of course, hoarded like gold under my mattress.

Kazfeist betaed this chapter! Thanks, love!