Back for Good

“...And I know I’ve been a total arse, and I know you didn't deserve what I said. And you certainly didn't deserve me kicking you out of your own home. That was... reprehensible of me. Gods, I—I don’t even know why I said or did those things. I felt out of control. I know you didn’t do anything with Snape. I’m so... fuck, it’s so inadequate. I’m so sorry.”

Hermione pursed her lips and looked away. They’d been talking for what felt like hours. After they’d made love, they’d drifted off to sleep, both experiencing a light and gentle sense of peace that diminished rather quickly when Hermione had told Sirius she didn't know if she was ready to come home.

She wanted to. She wanted to be with Sirius. There was no sense in denying it. But she didn't want to be taken advantage of, and she wasn’t willing to risk having him accuse her so baselessly whenever he felt insecure.

But he was apologizing so prettily, and she was so ready to move on.

“Sirius, things are going to be hard for us. Not everyone will understand what we’ve done. What I’ve done. If you’re going to take cheap shots and lose your temper every time you’re hurt or scared, well, that’s not fair. I need someone who can be strong. And I know you are strong, which is why I’m so confused.”

Sirius nodded solemnly. Hermione couldn’t recall the last time she’d seen him so very... serious. And he looked nervous, and she was damned if she didn't find that somehow endearing. Part of her wanted to stay angry, to stand up for herself and her feelings, but she could see when she looked into his lost grey eyes that he was truly remorseful. She’d seen the look often enough in Ron’s eyes when he’d said something horrifyingly stupid—which he did often enough.

But saying sorry meant you don’t do it again. Not like Ron, who would hurt her, apologize, and promptly repeat his transgression. This had to be different.

“I wish I could say the right thing to make you realize how sorry I am. I’ve never been good with words, or apologies, for that matter. But I regret what I said. I didn't mean it. I know you’re a good person, an honest one, and I know that, even if our relationship is strange and not quite typical, you would never betray someone you care about. And even though I know these things, I still hurt you. I want you to come home. It’s your home, really. You’ve lived there for years, and I had no right to tell you to leave. If you want me to go, I’ll understand. Hell, I expect it. But you should be there.”

Sighing, Hermione let her body fall backward onto the bed. She felt an unwarranted sense of panic and couldn’t put her finger on why she would feel that way.

“I forgive you,” she said simply, and it was true. He was sorry. She still wanted him. It was really that simple, and making him grovel and beg made no sense when she didn't even want it anymore.

“Oh, ‘Mione. Thank you. I won’t let you down like that again,” Sirius vowed, lying down beside her and taking her into his arms. Hermione smiled a little at the kisses he was pressing over her hair and face, giggling when he rubbed their noses together.

“Will you come home?” he asked cautiously, looking into her eyes. When she looked back, she saw only desire and earnestness. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He wouldn’t do it again. She felt the knowledge of that sweep over her like a cool wind, reassuring her softly.

“Yes,” she answered. “I’ve missed it. I’ve missed you. I hated fighting, and I don’t want to do it anymore. I’m not good at that sort of thing. I can’t hold grudges, and I don’t understand why people fight all the time. I just want to have peace with you.”

“That sounds perfect,” Sirius said, smiling into her neck, where he kissed her lightly.

“But if you do anything like that again, Harry will kick your arse,” she warned, only half joking.

“I know,” Sirius replied gravely. “He almost did this time. Not to mention Snape getting in on the action as well.”

Hermione was shocked to hear him say that name without any semblance of animosity. “What did Snape do?”

Sirius shrugged in feigned casualness. “He told me to smarten up—made me see things a little differently. He’s pretty clever, that one.”

Hermione gaped at Sirius, disbelieving her own ears.

He laughed a little, saying, “Well, maybe not clever. Quick, perhaps. Coldly intelligent. Ugly as hell and about as personable as a Jarvey, but not stupid.”

Hermione badly wanted to make a joke about Snape being a new-found friend, but she didn't want to disturb the peace between them. At least now maybe Sirius would see that she did appreciate Snape for his intelligence and that there were no ulterior motives to her seeking out his guidance.

“Sirius,” she whispered a few moments later.

“Yes, love?”

“Take me home.”

Sirius was up in a heartbeat, getting dressed in record time before opening up her trunk and shouting, “Pack!” He looked at her expectantly while she got dressed, and before the last button on her blouse was done up, he grabbed her hand and hauled her down the stairs.

“My things!” she cried, stumbling a little and letting Sirius correct her footing.

“I’ll come back for the trunk,” he declared. “Right now, I just need to get you home, to know you’re really there.”

He pulled her all the way to the sitting room, where Harry was sitting at his desk. He looked up, only slightly surprised to see Sirius there.

“It’s about time,” he drawled, giving Hermione a wide smile. But she could sense him searching her face for signs of certainty, and she smiled reassuringly. She was ready to go.

“We’re leaving,” Sirius announced, as though it wasn’t obvious. “But I’ll be back tomorrow, Harry. We’ll do something together.”

“What?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“I don’t know! Go fishing or camping or something ridiculous like that. How’s that sound?” His voice was so jovial that Hermione had to laugh. She felt like she was missing something, but she knew she’d be caught up sooner or later.

“That sounds... good,” Harry said, looking baffled. “I get off work at six, and I have to work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Sirius said, and Hermione could tell he’d forgotten for a moment that his godson had a job. “Maybe this weekend would be better,” he suggested hopefully.

“This weekend would be fine.” Harry was smiling widely, and Hermione felt her eyes get a little scratchy.

“Good, then,” Sirius said, grinning back. Then he quickly tossed some Floo powder, called out, “Number twelve, Grimmauld Place,” and pushed Hermione unceremoniously through when the flames turned green.

She stumbled out of fireplace a little ungracefully, not having expected to be shoved. When Sirius came through behind her, she said, “I didn’t even get to say goodbye or thank-you to Harry!”

Sirius laughed. “Sorry, I was a little eager to get you home. And we have to go back for your things anyway—you left everything behind, you know.”

Hermione opened her mouth to respond to that unfounded accusation, but she saw Sirius’ eyes glint mischievously, even as his smile was innocent. Sighing in her best, long-suffering way, Hermione walked up to Sirius and embraced him.

His arms curled around her slowly, holding her so firmly and strongly against his body that Hermione knew he was a safe place for her to be.

Raising her face for a kiss felt so natural and right that it was hard for her to believe that they’d spent any time apart at all. His lips were soft and slow against hers, an exploration, a relearning. Her face was cradled in his slightly calloused hands, her cheek and jaw held so gently she felt like a fragile thing. He broke the kiss to sigh against her lips, his breath sending shivers along her skin.

“Hermione... there was another woman here,” Sirius said.

She took a step backward, eyes wide with hurt and disbelief. “What?”

“I went to the bar... I was completely pissed. I didn't know what I was doing. She practically followed me. I made her leave; nothing happened. But she was here, and I wanted you to know.” He was biting his lip and forcing himself to look her in the eye.

Hermione stepped out of the embrace. “Oh, Sirius. What am I supposed to say to that?”

“I’m not sure. I promise that nothing happened. I’ve never even seen her before. I don’t know her name. She was only here for a minute. And Snape came right after. He saw her leave. You can ask him, if you want. She apparently had some choice words about my manhood for anyone who cared to listen.”

Hermione closed her eyes. “Did you only tell me because you thought Snape would if you didn't?”

“No!” he exclaimed, stepping forward but not touching her as he seemed to want to. “I told you because I don’t ever want to lie to you or hurt you.”

“Wait,” Hermione said, something clicking in her brain. “What night was this?”

“Last night.”

“And you were drunk?”

“Well, it wasn’t the only night I was drunk, but yeah. I was pretty out of it.”

“I felt so sick,” she whispered. “I felt dizzy and nauseous and... I almost thought... but it must have been the bond.” Her mind was telling her things, and she was racing to keep up. “Sirius, the bond is still intact! I felt it when you were drunk. I felt drunk. And.... What were you doing earlier today? Before you came to see me?”

Sirius was looking a little lost, but he answered quickly. “I went to see Teddy today. He’s beautiful, ‘Mione. Looks just like Remus, but you can see Tonks in him as well.”

“You were happy,” she said, smiling. “You were happy, and I felt happy, too! Oh, I feel so stupid. I thought the bond was broken, but it’s not.”

“What do you mean, you felt it, too? Why don’t I feel your emotions?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know, but there’s more. When we touch sometimes, my heart rate slows down to match yours. And my temper has been worse than ever, and I think it’s because of you! Sirius, the bond connected us in more ways than just this need between us that has dwindled. We’re... we’re a part of each other. I can feel it, sense it. I know it’s true! I thought it was broken, but it’s just taken a different form.”

Sirius took her hand and pulled her onto the couch with him. He sat slightly away from her, and she realized he was worried about her reaction regarding the woman he’d had over. But she trusted him to tell her the truth, and she wasn’t really upset about that. She was a little worried about his drinking habits, remembering how he often overindulged while in hiding during the war. But she had more pressing matters to think about at the moment.

“I rather liked having the compulsion part of the bond,” Sirius confessed. Laughing in a way she easily recognized as self-deprecating, Sirius continued, “I liked having you want me all the time. Having you need me. It... felt good to be necessary.” He looked away, and Hermione took his hands in hers.

“I still need you,” she assured him. “I still want you. But you have to admit that it’s better for me to want you and need you of my own volition than from a compulsion.”

He nodded, finally meeting her eyes. “You’re right. I guess I just got used to it. But why are all the changes happening to you? Your heartbeat adapts to mine, your temper changes, you experience my alcohol intake? Why have I not changed as well?”

Hermione thought she knew. She was also pretty sure Sirius was not going to be happy with her confession.

“I think.... When I performed the spell, a part of my soul went into the Veil. It was the first sacrifice. I felt it... I felt it leave. And I always thought that it was necessary to placate the Veil, like an offering, but now.... Sirius, I think the piece of soul went to you. ”

Sirius looked a mix between angry and devastated, his eyes wide as he took in her words. “Remember when we first made love?” A soft smile graced his lips, and Hermione blushed, but nodded. “That ripping feeling? What was that? Why did we both feel it, if it was only your soul that was fractured?”

Hermione let her head fall back onto the couch. “I have no idea. Maybe... maybe that was the piece of soul permanently leaving me and cementing itself in you? Gods... I just don’t know. And there’s no answers! ” she finished with a cry. The worst part about all this was that there was nowhere to look for additional information. She was making it up as she went. Or rather, that was what the Alenskys did. She was just the second in a line of people doing whatever they could for the one they loved.

“Does it matter?” Sirius asked, searching Hermione’s eyes. She stared at him a moment before she realized he wasn’t joking.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged and pulled her into a loose embrace. “Does it really matter? The whys and the hows and the definitions and the reasons.... Does any of it matter? I’m happy, Hermione. Really happy for the first time in decades. I’m with the woman I... want, and everything is fine. Does it matter why or how?”

Hermione curled into the embrace, kissing him lightly before sighing. “Yes. I wish I could say I didn't care and let everything go on without wanting to know everything I possibly can. But a part of me needs to know. I don’t know if I can simply forget about it. I’ll always wonder... what if our feelings for one another are constructed? Forced?”

But even as she said it, Hermione doubted her own words. After all, Sofie Alensky and her husband had loved one another before the Veil had put Sofie on hold. Maybe Hermione hadn’t loved Sirius before, not like she did now, but if the Alenskys loved one another before, it stood to reason that their love was real. And Hermione was just desperate enough to believe that it also applied to Sirius and herself. Whether or not she actually said those words didn't matter, not right now. It was enough that she felt them.

“I don’t believe that. And I don’t think you do, either. What I feel for you is real. No half-sentient piece of drapery can dictate my feelings.”

“I don’t want to believe it,” she admitted, crawling into Sirius’ lap and wondering how on Earth she’d managed to go so long without his touch. “I want to be with you. I want to believe it’s real.”

“It’s real,” Sirius said in a voice that belied no uncertainty. His fingers trailed along her throat and rested over her heart. Pressing lightly, he said, “This is real. What we feel—here—is real.”

Sirius took her lips in a wrenchingly soft kiss, and Hermione wondered if he’d intended the double meaning behind his words as his fingers pressed into the still-unhealed scars on her chest. But whether he’d meant that or not, Hermione knew it was true. She’d willingly given a part of her soul, and she would do it again without question. Despite all the uncertainty, despite the pain, the strangeness, the heartache, and one randomly clicking finger, it was all more than worth it to have Sirius in her life.

They divested of their clothes slowly, taking time to explore one another in a way that had been missing from their frenzied rendezvous earlier that day. Sirius’ hands branded her with every inch of skin caressed, and his kisses scorched her, inside and out. It seemed as though he was trying to memorize every movement, and Hermione tried not to feel the strange sense of impermanence in his lips.

Touching his cock made her shiver, his moans drawing lines through her veins right to her core. Straddling Sirius, Hermione lowered herself onto him, taking him into her and making them one in yet another way. With a part of herself in him, and a part of him in her, nothing could ever be so right. When they began to move together, slowly at first, she swore she could sense the part of her soul sighing in contentedness. He moved within her, and she was moved within him.

It was only fitting that, after so long apart, Hermione and Sirius found release at the same moment, her cries drowning his groans, and his clenching fingers overpowering her clenching pussy. Everything about them felt balanced and equal, and Hermione was taken to a place that was beyond afterglow. She felt light and at peace, and she never wanted to leave.

Sirius eventually laid her down on the couch and stretched out beside her, Summoning a light blanket and covering her nudity both with the blanket and himself. She wasn’t quite asleep, but neither was she fully conscious. Entwining her limbs with Sirius’ was the most natural thing in the world, and as she wrapped her legs around him, he responded in kind with his arms. They were completely whole, two people made one, not just by the sharing of their bodies, but by the soul split between them.

Hermione’s sleep was dreamless.

---

Sirius was awake for some time after Hermione had drifted off with a sinfully blissful look on her delicate features. He loved watching her sleep. She always looked so untouchable, so untouched. It made him a little frightened for her, as though any moment her innocence and frailty could be stolen away from her—from both of them.

It felt good to be forgiven. It was a gift rarely given to him, perhaps a gift he’d rarely deserved. He hadn’t been truly nervous until he’d confessed about that silly harpy who’d come home with him. He still felt ill when he thought about that. Sirius had, more times than he’d care to admit, been pissed to the point of blacking out. Had that night been one of those times, he had no doubt that Hermione would not have forgiven him. But he’d told the truth before he’d been caught, something he’d never seen himself doing. And it felt so good to do the right thing. Even though he was only doing what Hermione deserved.

Sirius pressed his faced into Hermione’s slender neck, uncaring of the hair that curled and tangled in his face. This was perfect, he thought. This was home.

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Author's Note: Thank you to Krystle-Lynne for stepping in to beta in record time!

And a huge thanks to Brissygirl and rainien for reviewing! Where the heck are the rest of you?! LOL

Thank you for reading! And for the slash fans, please check out my new fic Through Darkness. It's Harry/Draco/Lucius! Yay, threesomes! Also, if there are any poetry fans, check out my Verlaine/Rimbaud fic, which can be found on my LJ (literaryspell). Feel free to friend me! I don't post this fic there, but all my oneshots are there.