Back for Good

The next day, the day of the ‘outing,’ was probably more nerve-wracking for Hermione than for Sirius or Harry. The latter two had been bouncing off the walls since Harry had arrived. She was thankful she only had a few more minutes until she could leave for work; otherwise she doubted she’d be able to handle them when they were this excited.

And Sirius was a true instigator, following her around and pestering her, asking her how she would feel when the offers from interested witches began to come in, now that he was exonerated (posthumously, which led to interesting questions), alive and more handsome than ever. His words.

She, of course, told him that any witches with designs on him would have to get through her, first. Their relationship may not be ideal, but it was one, and she would never settle for anything less than complete monogamy.

He laughed merrily, saying something about her making an honest man out of him. She’d tuned out both of them at that point, packing her lunch and practically jumping into the Floo.

Once at her desk, she got to work without her usual ferocity. Sirius exposing their relationship to the Weasleys had been surprising and alarming. She was usually the type for tact and a slow build-up. She had felt very exposed. But she couldn’t deny the part of herself that had thrilled at being claimed in such a public way. Surely Sirius must want her, if he was willing to make their relationship public?

And then he’d told her he planned to take his own advice and go for a stroll down Diagon Alley. She could only imagine the shock he would face, and she hoped he and Harry were both up to it. She was frightened that someone might think he was some sort of impersonator and hex him before asking questions, but Harry had convinced her that he would erect a powerful spell around her lover and himself, just in case.

They’d even booked an interview with The Daily Prophet, though she seriously questioned the intelligence of that idea. But it was either feed them the words to misconstrue, or allow them to devise their own. Hopefully, giving them a base of truth would be better than an article containing nothing more than second-hand witnesses and conjecture. Either way, the Wizarding World was in for a shock, and many people would not accept Sirius’ explanation of “It just happened. I know nothing.” She knew she wouldn’t have, if she hadn’t known the truth; she would have cried foul if anything like that had been printed for her to see, and she was very worried that some intrepid reporter would somehow find out what she’d done.

She would do it again, though. Even if it meant going to Azkaban. She would never have been able to forgive herself if she hadn’t at least tried to bring him back.

It was only a little into lunch when she heard her co-workers talking about Sirius. She tried to listen to their conversations, joining them in the break room for the first time in ages.

“Have you heard, Herms? Sirius Black is alive!” That was Megan, one of her team members.

She nodded cautiously, saying, “Yes, I just overheard someone saying that.” She casually poured herself a cup of coffee, sitting at one of the tables for employees.

“Well, I wonder if he was actually dead to begin with! After all, no one’s ever come back from the Veil,” Jessica said, a receptionist and their most capable busybody.

“But do we know for sure if he even went through the Veil in the first place? I never heard conclusive proof of that.” Megan again, becoming more and more excitable.

“So maybe he was just playing dead until his name was cleared,” said Robbie from accounting.

“His name was cleared over a year ago, Robbie,” Hermione informed him before clamping her mouth shut.

“Yeah, you’re Harry Potter’s best friend! You must know all the details! Come on, Herms! Spill!” She didn’t know who was speaking because she’d closed her eyes against the inevitable.

“All I know is that Sirius really was gone, dead or not. But now he’s back, alive and well.”

Her words set off a flurry of gossip, and more questions were directed at her, but she pretended she saw an owl at her desk and snuck out.

There was no avoiding it—people were going to talk. There had been three crazy theories (or not so crazy, considering what had actually happened) in the lunch room alone—who could know what the rest of the Wizarding World was thinking? Sirius was in for a surprise if he thought people were going to accept his bland explanation without question.

Hermione heard a couple reports on the Wireless about infamous Azkaban escapee Sirius Black, but nothing conclusive, which of course made sense, because nothing was conclusive. Hell, even she didn't know the whole of what had happened, and Sirius knew less than she! Ignorance was highly frustrating, she decided, stabbing her quill through a parchment.

Hermione tried not to remember the difference between this day and days only recently passed, when her neglect to return home by this time for some serious Sirius-touching would render her incapable of coherent thought. Now she felt barely a twinge, and what she did feel might be attributed to her feelings for him, rather than the bond’s strictures.

Half of Hermione wanted to maintain the status quo by pretending nothing was wrong, but that had never been her forte. She was usually honest to a fault, and when she wasn’t honest, people were almost always able to see right through her. All her new feelings, her fears, her hopes—everything boiled down to the question, Does Sirius really want me?

Would he have wanted her if he hadn’t been tied to her? In the same vein, if someone else had brought him back from beyond the Veil, would she have noticed him the way she did now? Who was to say her own feelings were true?

She didn't want to test the bonds again, not like before. But her brain was telling her she’d never be really happy if she didn't know whether her feelings were real or constructed.

Hermione begged her brain to simmer down and give her a few weeks of happiness before getting all involved and making her doubt herself. For surely she was happy right now, at least with her sex life. Sex was different than she’d thought it would be. When she was younger, she thought it would be all romance and sweet words. When she grew up a little and started noticing couples around her, she’d realized sex was messy, complicated and funny. Sex was a joke.

But now, it was some strange, complex meshing of the two. Sex could be sweet, soft, hard, loud, confusing, fascinating, awkward and everything at once. But it was good. And she found herself wanting it all the time, which surprised her. Maybe because it was so new; after the novelty wore off, surely her libido would settle. But what if Sirius’ didn't? After all, he’d been having sex longer than she’d been alive....

Hermione was finding it nearly impossible to focus on her work.

Thankfully, the office was in such a tizzy she really didn't need to. No one was doing their work, so it didn't look quite as bad when Hermione went home at the end of the day with a project not quite finished.

Walking through the door of Grimmauld Place, Hermione was assailed by a number of familiar voices. All loud, all excited.

She removed her coat and hung it on the rack, hearing Sirius’ voice as he described in loving detail the astonishment on one Rita Skeeter’s face as Harry requested, no, demanded a different reporter for their interview.

Hermione entered the sitting room where Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were all sitting, staring in rapt attention at head instigator, Sirius Black, whose back was to her. She smiled wryly at his audience and saw Harry jerk his head toward her, looking at his godfather.

Sirius spun around so quickly Hermione had to take a step back. He was upon her in a flash, picking her up and spinning her in a circle, while trying to kiss her. The kiss was messy and awkward and Hermione laughed before begging to be put down.

“Never!” he declared, his eyes bright and sparkling in a way she was sure hadn’t happened before. The man was nearly wild with excitement.

“So I take it you had a good day? The ultimate prank, eh? ‘Oh, I’m dead. No, I’m not! ’” Hermione snarked, giggling at the wide grin on his face.

“Why, ‘Mione, I do believe you’ve sussed it out! Nothing gets me more wound up than exceeding the expectations of society!” he said laughing, before lowering his voice so only she could hear and adding, “Well, almost nothing.” Winking at her in that typical Sirius way, he kissed her again before practically tossing her into an armchair and sitting on her lap.

He was way too heavy, but he wouldn’t budge. “Sirius, come on! You’re crushing me!”

Everyone in the room was smiling and laughing, even more when Sirius rejoined, “Are you calling me fat? You know I’m sensitive!”

Hermione only groaned and resigned herself to be squashed. Thankfully, most of his weight was braced by his arms on the sides of the chair.

“How was work, Hermione?” Molly kindly inquired. She seemed to be eyeing Hermione carefully, but Hermione couldn’t decipher why.

“Long and unproductive. Everyone was caught up in the fascinating subject of this hyperactive, attention-seeking girlfriend-crusher!”

Harry laughed and sniped, “And nothing frustrates Hermione more than an unproductive work day! Where’s your briefcase? I would have thought you’d be working on it already!”

“Actually,” Hermione said primly, “I decided not to bring my unfinished work home today.”

A chorus of exaggerated gasps followed and she smiled, rolling her eyes and saying, “Yeah, yeah.”

“I bet I know why!” Sirius declared. He stood and rapidly pulled Hermione to her feet, snaking her spot on the armchair and promptly yanking her back into his lap. She was sprawled ungracefully before he settled her, pulling her back against his chest.

“Why, Sirius?” Harry and Ginny refrained.

“Because she would rather spend time with her lover, of course!”

Harry and Ginny both laughed, and Arthur let out a guffaw, but Ron and Molly were both silent. Ron looked a little upset, and Hermione remembered what Ginny said to her when she’d first learned about Hermione and Sirius—that Ron still pined for her, despite his being married to Lavender. Hermione wondered about that for a moment, realizing she hadn’t heard a thing about the girl in ages. It could be that she’d been so wrapped up in her own personal dramas, but even Harry hadn’t mentioned her. Hermione hoped she hadn’t been so remiss in her duties as Ron’s friend that she didn't even know if they were still together. Their wedding had been small and hasty, and Lavender had never really fit in with the group.

“Or maybe I just wanted an evening to myself?” Hermione said, smiling.

He looked like he was considering her answer. “Nah. Pretty sure I’m right.”

She had to laugh. She leaned down for a quick kiss, but like all her quick kisses, Sirius just as quickly turned it into a long one. His tongue only just brushed her lower lip when she whispered, “I think you’re right, too.”

“Okay, everybody out!” Sirius announced, clapping his hands imperially. Again, everyone laughed, but they were getting up anyway. Ron looked especially upset.

“Sirius!” she admonished, slapping him lightly on his arm.

“What?” he said innocently.

“It’s okay, dear. We had best be getting home anyway. Dinner won’t cook itself, you know!” Molly said, a soft smile on her face.

“We should also head out as well. I skived off work for you today, Sirius, and now I get to catch up.”

Hermione got off Sirius’ lap so she could say goodbye to everyone, and Sirius rose to take Harry into a hug.

“I know, Harry,” he said. “And I’m so grateful. I couldn’t have done it without you... and thank you for—”

“No worries,” Harry interrupted, smiling and looking searchingly at his godfather. Hermione watched the exchange while seeing the Weasleys through the Floo, but she had no idea what it was about.

After everyone had left, Hermione went to sit on the sofa. Sirius settled beside her, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her ear softly.

“I wished you were with us today,” he told her.

“I do, too. But it was better this way, Sirius. And I think Harry really enjoyed the time with you. I haven’t seen him so thrilled in a long time.”

Sirius smirked mysteriously. “Oh, yes, we had fun today.”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m not entirely sure I want to know.”

“Then you might not want to read the Prophet for the next few weeks.”

Hermione gaped. “I thought the interview was to tell the truth, not play jokes!”

He shushed her gently, saying, “The interview was fine, I was very serious—the boring serious, I mean.” She rolled her eyes, and he went on, “We just had some fun reintroducing me to society, that’s all. We went to Hogsmeade for a bit, too.”

Hermione suspected that meant certain people like Ollivander and Rosmerta had had the life scared out of them, and she snickered before containing it.

“When will the article be out?” she asked.

“Well, the reporter said he wanted to do some research on the Veil first, check for precedent and all that. I know he won’t find anything if you didn't. So maybe a week?”

She nodded. “He won’t find anything because there isn’t anything. The Veil is annoyingly mysterious.” She was still irritated that her research had yielded results so reluctantly.

“I’m sure it is, love,” he soothed, kissing her neck and collarbone. But she wouldn’t be distracted.

“Sirius, did something else happen today? Something for which you thanked Harry, before he left?”

He paused in his seduction before leaning back against the back of the sofa, head back. “Not much gets by you, eh?” he asked rhetorically.

“I just want to be sure everything is all right,” she whispered.

He was quiet for a long time, tracing his fingers over the back of her hand. He sighed and began to speak. “I had a bit of an... episode. It was in the Three Broomsticks, and there were so many people, all talking and getting really close. And suddenly it was like I couldn’t get a deep breath, the air smelled so sour and bitter, and the voices turned into this horrible hissing noise. I felt weak and inexplicably scared. Harry noticed right away that something wasn’t right, and he took me outside. The fresh air helped, and in a few minutes I was fine, wondering if I’d imagined the whole thing. Stupid, I know.”

Hermione was thinking quickly. It sounded like a panic attack, but the hissing? She shook her head. No, he was free of the Veil.

“I think you had a panic attack, Sirius. It makes sense even without you having gone beyond the Veil. Your experiences in Azkaban, and then being cooped up here for so long... it’s no wonder you don’t like crowds.”

“I suppose,” he answered, but he sounded sceptical. In a flash, his maudlin mood lifted, and he smiled. “I did have fun with Harry today. And with the Weasleys as well, though I think all is not well with Ron.”

Hermione nodded. “I thought so as well. Maybe I should talk to him.”

“I mentioned it to Harry, and he said he’d look into it.”

Hermione was grateful. Sirius was much more observant than most people gave him credit for, even her at times. Thinking to take his mind off his rather awful experience at the Three Broomsticks, she climbed onto his lap, straddling him.

“Mmm,” he murmured. “To what to I owe the pleasure?”

Hermione shivered at hearing Snape’s obligatory greeting in Sirius’ voice, but distracted herself by kissing his neck, nipping him sharply and feeling heat between her thighs at his groan.

“To whom, you mean. And you owe the pleasure to me, Sirius Black.”

His hands trailed down her body to rest on her hips. “And that’s a debt I have no problem paying in full.”

__________________________
Author's Note: Thank you for reading and please review! So glad to see readers coming out to let me know what you think! I rewarded the 100th reviewer of my other WIP (which you should all, of course, read) a fic to any specifications of her choosing. So, that's something to aspire to! (I am not above bribery, people!)

Huge thanks to kazfeist for the beta job.