Chapter 19:  Sirius' Truth

 

       This was not where she had ever expected to be. But here she was, curled up on the old sofa that Molly Weasley had insisted upon giving them, in Sirius Black's arms. Her head pillowed against his chest. His arm was draped possessively around her. One of Hermione's hands rested just below her chin, her fingers gently entwined with his own.

        She had stopped crying a while ago but Sirius hadn't let her go and Hermione had made no moves to leave him.

        His hand, the one not occupied with her own, was running softly up and down along her shoulder. Sirius' chest was still damp from her tears but he didn't seem to mind. It was nice, being like this with him. It was nice, being so comforted. He was as warm as summer soaked sand or a rock in the sun. Hermione could snuggle a bit closer and drift back to sleep if it wasn't for the fact that Sirius was being nice. He was being very, very nice to her. As comfortable as she was, Hermione was finding it a bit unsettling.

        "Sirius?" The hand on her back stilled. "Sirius, why are you being so nice to me?"

        His hand recommenced its movement. "Shouldn't I be?"

        Sirius' softly spoken word reverberated against Hermione's cheek in a most seductive manner. She could almost visualize her knees turning to jelly as her imagination ran away from her with most atypical thoughts. Her bare toes curled under. Hermione wasn't quite able to stop the slight shiver.

        "Are you cold?" His breath fluttering her hair.

        "N...no, no I'm fine." Hermione refused to be so easily blindsided. She was not some childish sixteen year old who would melt like ice cream in summer just because he was showing a sudden, rather surprising, amount of tenderness to her.

        Nonetheless he still shifted her slightly so that Hermione was even closer to him, his arm letting of long enough to pull a blanket up over her. He smoothed the red wool around her then settled them back into their previous positions.

        "Sirius," Hermione wasn't sure where to begin. She didn't understand any of this. "I really thought you hated me?"

        "Haven't we resolved that issue already?" He exchanged a question for a question.

        Hermione tried to sit up but his casually thrown arm tightened gently, holding her securely while still giving the illusion of voluntary participation in the act. She sighed, relaxed against him once again, and rubbed her cheek softly against his well-worn robe. "I know that you don't hate me. But I don't understand and I detest not understanding. You've always belittled my Auroring abilities to Harry and Ron. You've always tried to come between us. You treated me like my very existence offended you somehow. You've avoided me for years and now I can't get rid of you. Make me understand."

        Sirius released her hand. She tilted her face up to look at him while he absentmindedly ran his hand through his black hair. There was a fine growth of dark stubble along his jaw, which gave Hermione the most forbidden urge to trace her fingers along it. Sirius let his head fall back against the back the sofa exposing his neck to her. He looked younger than Hermione remembered seeing him in years.

        "I've made a right mess of things." He said finally.

        "Hmm," Was Hermione's noncommittal reply. "Well, that certainly answers everything, doesn't it?"

        He did the most surprising thing then. Sirius chuckled. Low and throaty, Hermione hadn't ever heard a sound more suited to him.

        "Smart-ass." He called her.

        "What?" Hermione managed to twist out of his grasp in her surprise at being insulted. "Is this really the appropriate time to be calling me names?"

        She leaned back to scowl at him. But Hermione wasn't quite able to make herself move too far from his delightful warmth.

        Sirius lifted his hand to caress her cheek. Hermione didn't realize that she was leaning into his palm until her lips were suddenly kissing the flesh below his thumb. Sirius' eyes darkened. His hand reached around to the back of her head where it entwined with her hair. He pulled her forcefully back against him, his lips crushing hers in an open mouth kiss.

        Hermione moaned weakly against him, not even trying to sort out how she had gone from almost hating to snogging the man in less than an hour. She just didn't care at the moment. There was so little time to sort things out. And Hermione felt like this, with Sirius, had been a long time coming.

        Her hand gripped his shoulder as she shifted to straddle him. He groaned, her lower lip in his teeth. His hands were clenching her upper thighs; her old flannel nightgown had ridden up, exposing most of her legs. His fingertips rested just underneath the fabric, teasing her.

        Hermione rose up against him, pulling him closer to her, wanting more. It was wanton, desperate, and more forward than Hermione would ever dream of being, but she didn't care. The stress of everything had taken its toll and Hermione would give almost anything to feel the rush that came with sex.

        "Sirius," She pleaded against his mouth.

        But he wasn't kissing her now. His hands had moved to her shoulders. He was pushing her back. Forcing her to stop. Hermione didn't want to stop. She needed this.

        "Sirius." She tried to pull herself back to him but he caught her hands and held her at bay.

        "Hermione," He was breathing hard, his eyes were like black jewels. "Hermione, please listen to me. You need to understand"

        He was pushing her away. Shutting her out. It would be just as it always was.

        "Hermione, do you know why I kissed you?"

        She shook her head slowly. She was suddenly very aware of her pushed up nightgown and her placement in his lap. A blush was already creeping across her face at her behavior.

        He took a deep, steadying breath. "Hermione," His voice was that whisper-soft sound that made Hermione's insides quiver. "Hermione, I kissed you because I'm in love with you."

        His comment was so far outside of the realm of possibility that Hermione almost laughed. But there was something in his tone, something in his grip on her hands that leant credibility to his words.

She pulled carefully back from him; his hands letting hers slip free. "What? Don't say such things, Sirius. You can't...can't possibly."

        He continued as if he hadn't heard her. "It started in your sixth year. You were so young and innocent. I hadn't expected it at all. You were Harry's friend. But you were also beautiful and brave and so much younger than myself. You trusted me, all those times that you came to see me in my rooms. All those times that you came with that innocent goodwill of yours, unable to let me be lonely. And all I wanted to do was...well, it was horribly inappropriate given your age and my own." His hands tightened on her hips where he had let them drop when she had pulled free from him.

        Hermione blinked wide brown eyes at him, she wasn't hearing this, it simply wasn't possible. "Sirius, you shouldn't, you shouldn't say such things." She repeated trying to make him talk sensibly.

        "Remus figured it out." Sirius almost smiled. "I should have known that he would. He always had an eye for undertones. He confronted me and I realized that I had to leave. I had to get away from you. I couldn't risk what would happen if my self-control slipped." His words were quick as if he were afraid of losing his nerve.

        Hermione slid off his lap in a daze. "You left because of me?"

        "You were so good, so pure, I couldn't risk tainting you." He said bitterly any trace of happiness gone from his face now. "I never meant for you to know. I thought that if I could get away from you these feelings would go away. I thought that I was suffering the pangs of a ridiculous infatuation."

        "An infatuation?" Hermione echoed, yes, she knew a little bit about infatuations.

        Sirius leaned forward, his hands running wildly through his black hair. "But they didn't go away. I always thought about you. I wondered if you were well, if you were happy, if you had fallen in love. I dreamed about you at night. I dreamed that we were together, in every sense of the word, and that we were happy."

        Hermione blushed at these words, as impossible as they were.

"But then, I also dreamed that people were hurting you. That Voldemort had gotten to you and Harry and Ron. It about drove me insane." He sat back up and looked at her, "When you found me in that place Peter intended to be my tomb, I thought you were a dream. I thought that I was hallucinating. I thought that I was so close to death that my mind was giving me one small window of happiness. So I took it." He looked away from her again, frowning. "I was so angry with myself, so disgusted, when I realized that it was real."

        "I thought you meant me." Hermione whispered as that scene in the hospital wing so long ago replayed in her mind.

        He looked at her in surprise. "You? How could I ever think that you were disgusting? You were perfect and I hurt you." Sirius reached out to her as if wanting to prove how no disgusting her found her.

        But Hermione slid a bit further back on the sofa from him stopping just out of reach. It was all so unreal. Sirius Black could not be sitting there on the sofa with her confessing to years of love and devotion. It just couldn't be possible. "Sirius," she tried again, "please, think about what you're saying."

        He pulled from her, a distinct frown marring his face as she argued with him. "The dreams were worse when you decided to become an Auror. I know that I hurt you then but I just wanted you to be safe. I wanted you to be a librarian or something somewhere far away from all the horror of Voldemort."

        Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breathe as she tried to organize her thoughts, how had she managed to miss all of this?

        "When you..." He took another deep breath, "when you were hurt. When I thought that I had lost you I went a little crazy."

        

        Hermione looked up at him, she remembered him being in St. Mungo's then, after the attack, when they thought she was going to die. But he had never once mentioned it to her.

        "I had never killed before." His voice was dangerously low. Sirius had gone very still now, his focused on the well-worn rug.

        "What?" She chocked out.

        "The first night, when they brought you in, I was there. But I couldn't wait to see if you would wake up with the others. It was suffocating there. So I left. I needed a drink and I didn't care who saw me."

        Hermione was watching him closely now, hanging on his every word. She had subconsciously moved to the far end of the sofa but Sirius didn't seem to notice.

        "I was in a muggle part of London. I must have drunk a whole bottle of whiskey before I came across them." His eyes were far away in a memory. "They were in an alley. They were drunk. They were torturing some vagrant muggle. Laughing while they hurt him. They were talking about their earlier success. All the people that they had killed." Sirius closed his eyes, "you know, a part of me couldn't believe my luck, I had found those that had hurt you without even trying."

        "Who?" Hermione whispered. They had never known who was responsible for the attack. "Who was it?"

        Sirius looked at her now, his expression was bore the marks of forced neutrality, "Dolohov and Jugson. They were so proud of themselves. For all I knew, you were laying dead in St. Mungo's, and it was their fault." He looked away from her again. "It's funny, because I actually had a wand with me; I had stolen Remus' when he wasn't paying attention earlier that evening. But I didn't think to use it. I just went at them, like an animal, they didn't even see me coming. I killed Dolohov almost at once. I smashed his head into the brick wall lining the alleyway. Have you ever seen what a broken skull looks like?"

        Hermione felt nauseous. She stood up carefully and took a step away from him.

        "I strangled Jugson. You would think that Death Eaters would be more prepared for a fight like that. But they're more fearsome in packs I suppose. The old muggle took off somewhere calling for the police. I transfigured their bodies into bits of trash and changed into a dog." He ran both hands through his hair, messing the dark locks even further. "To tell you the truth, I don't know what I did after that. I couldn't bring myself to return to the hospital until the next evening. What if...what if you had died? Died while I was out killing."

        Hermione felt an unbidden tear steal down her cheek. She wiped it with the back of her hand before wrapping both arms about herself.

Sirius watched her a mixture of helpless remorse on his face, but he wasn't done with his confession. "Remus found me somehow, he's always been good at that, and he brought me back to the hospital to help keep watch over you. I didn't deserve to be there near you. Not after what I had done."

        "I remember you being there." Hermione whispered softly her voice unsteady. "I was glad that you were there."

        Sirius stood suddenly. He took a step towards her but Hermione retreated from him. He bowed his head in defeat.

        "Still, I don't deserve to be near you." He murmured.

        Hermione felt her lower lip began to tremble more pronouncedly, her emotions would betray her completely if she didn't do something to distract herself. "I...I'm going to make breakfast."

        His dark eyes met hers in surprise. "After all this, you're going to make breakfast?"

        She didn't miss the hurt that he tried to hide. "I...I..." She needed time to think. She needed time to understand. She needed time to understand her own tumultuous feelings. "I'm hungry." Hermione replied finally with the safest possible answer. She brushed loose hair back behind her ear in what she hoped was a casual fashion.

        Sirius nodded silently.

        Hermione stepped past him towards the kitchen. But before she could go even a few steps strong arms were around her from behind. Sirius looped an arm around her waist while the other settled higher up just underneath her collarbone. He held her tightly, his cheek pressed against her hair, his mouth tantalizingly close to her ear.

        "I do love you." He whispered, "No matter what you think of me, I'll always love you."

        Hermione could feel her resolve, to distance herself from this crazy situation and give herself time to think, weaken as he held her. His breath puffed gently against her ear sending shivers down her spine. Only a moment or two more and she would turn in his arms and let him show her how much he loved her.

        But Sirius let go of her.

        She was cold without him.

        "You're leaving?" Hermione asked as he turned to collect his cloak from the rack.

        He nodded, not looking at her, his shoulders slightly hunched.

        Hermione took a step towards him, her hand outstretched, but she couldn't quite bring herself to touch him. "You're coming back though, right?"

        Sirius looked at her then, his eyes unnaturally bright. "You can't keep me away."