ceredwensirius (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ceredwensirius) wrote2008-03-30 02:52 pm
ceredwensirius) wrote2008-03-30 02:52 pm
Entry tags:
Innocence Chapter 37
Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter or any of the characters, I just like to play with them
Daughters of the International Warlock Convention of 1289
Hermione patted the niffler that was perched in her lap, it completely ignored her wedding band and engagement ring which was rather odd. Hermione was listening to her hostess as she explained, in detail, why Sirius Black was the most desirable wizard in England. Hermione wanted to ask her hostess a question, she had almost asked her question at least a dozen times now. The pauses in speech did not allow quite enough time for Hermione to interject. Hermione agreed with the other witch, wholeheartedly, who had given this a great deal of thought and it was beginning to annoy Hermione. Hermione decided she had waited long enough, she was just going to have to butt in.
“So, Lyra, why exactly did you and Sirius stop dating?”
Lyra stood angrily, her face red and contorted with rage, she opened her mouth to speak and let out a sound remarkably similar to their doorbell.
“What?”
Lyra opened her mouth, once again the only sound she emitted bore an uncanny likeness to the doorbell.
“Hermione...doorrrrr.” Sirius had entered the room and was pushing against her shoulder, a little roughly and carelessly.
“Cut it out, Sirius.”
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, instead of his voice she heard their doorbell, three times, in rapid succession.
Hermione snuggled into Sirius’ warm body only to have him push her toward her side of the bed. “The door, Hermione,” he said sleepily. “Go answer the door.” He gave her another shove toward the edge of the bed.
Hermione slowly sat up, she gave him a cross look, yawned and then stretched. She rubbed her eyes and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, first one and then the other. She slipped her feet into the furry black slippers that resembled Padfoot, her Christmas present from Remus. Hermione rose to her feet and shuffled toward the door, nearly stepping on Crookshanks tail. She grabbed her house robe, slipped into it and opened the bedroom door. Before she could close it behind her the doorbell rang again, Hermione walked past the dining room and picked up her wand, eyeing the door and deciding on an appropriate hex. She reached the front door, flicked her wand at it, stifling a yawn as it opened. Their visitor was a young wizard, just a couple of years older than herself, dressed in light grey robes bearing a logo in bright lilac and soft pink.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m from Silkson and Chiffmore, I’m here to deliver the dresses you ordered from us.” The delivery wizard eyed her wand nervously, her irritated features doing nothing to put him at ease.
“Silkson and Chiffmore? Oh…” Hermione’s lips curved into a pleased smile. “The bridesmaid dresses?”
Hermione jumped lightly, a pair of large, strong hands had just rested on her hips. She felt warm breath against her neck just before a pair of lips nuzzled against her skin. “What’s taking so long?” Sirius had woken fully, grumpy that she wasn’t in bed with him. The fact that he had practically shoved her out was forgotten entirely.
“I-I believe so.” The delivery wizard stammered in the presence of Sirius. Whether it was his former status of convicted felon or his current celebrity status was unclear. Sirius jerked his head in non committal greeting before turning away and into the house. Hermione stepped away from the door to allow him entrance into their home. She conjured a hook on the wall and watched as he hung them up. He glanced briefly at his clipboard before returning his attention to Hermione. “The gold has already been taken from your account so unless there is anything else I can do for you, I’ll be off.”
“No, thank you so much. You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get them.” Hermione glanced eagerly at the gowns.
Her answer forced the delivery wizard’s eyebrows up in surprise, he immediately schooled his expression into something much more polite. “If there are any problems just send us an owl.” He walked back to the front door and let himself out.
Hermione controlled herself just long enough for him to shut the door behind him. She squealed excitedly, rushed into the dining room and quickly wrote two letters, one to Ginny, the other to Tonks. Sirius glanced at the dresses which were hanging from the wall in the entry way, he couldn’t help the self satisfied grin, remembering the fifty gold he had won off of Bill. Hermione gave Mercury, their post owl, the two letters and sent him on his way.
“Sirius, I’m going to study, will you let Tonks and Ginny know where I am?” She walked up to him and stood on her toes to reach up and kiss him. He made a frustrated sound of protest, he had other ideas for her time.
“I’ll make it up to you.” She smiled shyly and looked away.
“Do you mean what I think you mean?” He pulled her against his heating form, speaking seductively in her ear.
Hermione giggled softly. “Mmm hmm.” She pulled away slowly, looking any where but into his eyes.
“Really…” Sirius shifted slightly in place, he pulled her once more against his body, roughly and pressed his pelvis into her so she could feel his desire. A little sigh escaped her which brought a flush to her cheeks.“I may have to hold you to that.” He kissed a spot on her neck and then grazed his teeth against the skin. She shivered involuntarily, her resolve slipping, thoughts of the library fleeing in the direction of the bedroom. Sirius released her suddenly, satisfied she would be in agony, just like him. He walked over to the pantry and searched for something to make breakfast with.
He pretended to be consumed with his task, glancing over at her as she moved away from him and toward the door to the basement. The moment she opened the door, he flicked his wand at her, quickly turning back to the pantry. Hermione paused, she turned to look at him but he appeared to be fully occupied with his self appointed task. She could have sworn she felt a spell hit her. Sirius sweated each second she stood there, knowing full well if he looked her in the eye he would not be able to hold his laughter in. If she caught him, he would be in trouble on a variety of levels. He could practically feel her eyes boring into his back.
Hermione couldn’t detect his guilt and she was trying her damnedest to flush him out. The fact that he was still occupied with the pantry was a slight give away. He had been acting suspiciously over the last week, she strongly suspected him of bad behavior but she hadn’t been able to catch him at it yet. She finally turned back toward the basement door and slowly descended the steps to her library. When she stepped fully into the library she inhaled deeply, trying to get another whiff of the strong smell she couldn’t define. She smelled nothing at all, not even the books which had a unique smell that she loved. Lately when she came down here, her sense of smell failed her completely.
Sirius believed it had something to do with her pregnancy, he had explained that magical pregnancies were different from muggle ones. He didn’t seem surprised at all that sometimes she couldn’t smell anything. Apparently Lily had experienced something similar from time to time. Her sense of hearing would leave suddenly and unexpectedly, sometimes not returning for days on end.
Sirius was rather amused by his little joke.
Hermione had received a number of books on pregnancy from both Molly Weasley and her mother. She had read them all, cover to cover, but could find nothing about sensory loss. She added her question to her list of things to ask at her next check up.
What she didn’t know was that Sirius was lying to her and was pranking her to keep her from smelling the result of his transgression in the library. He had been in the process of removing the odor when she descended the steps. She had gotten a strong whiff of it before he was able to spell away her sense of smell. He had not yet been able to get down there to finish the job and was rather enjoying living just a little bit dangerously.
Hermione gave up trying to detect the rather obnoxious odor and settled herself on a couch, pulled a few textbooks out of her book bag and continued her preparation. Her NEWTs were only a few months away now and she could feel the beginnings of anxiety, worried she wouldn’t be well prepared. She had about an hour to study after which she would be joined by Tonks and Ginny for more wedding planning. Later on that evening she would be attending her first meeting of the Daughters of the International Warlock Convention of 1289. She cherished the time that she studied, it kept her on a schedule, bringing order to her rather busy life.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sirius ascended the stairs, heading towards one of the upstairs bedrooms. He was trying to remember where he left his tool kit, for some weird reason he thought it might be up here. It had been so many years ago that he had last used the kit, his memory was a bit fuzzy. He had a lot of work to do on the bike. He and Remus had mapped out even more charms than were on his last bike. He knew that Hagrid had his old bike and was loath to take it from him. Besides, the old bike held too many memories for him. He and James used to go riding on it, piss drunk, in the time between graduation and marriage. James had lived here with Sirius during that time, a few months of wild partying away from the eyes of his parents and Lily. Sirius reached the landing and took a ragged breath, bracing himself to enter James’ room.
He knew he would have to come up here sooner or later and address his past, deal once more with the passing of his best friend, his brother. His eyes landed on the last door on the left, he slowly placed one foot in front of the other. He wasn’t sure if James had left anything up here or if he had taken it all with him to Godric’s Hollow. He half hoped, half dreaded finding something of James, some memento, maybe something he could give to Harry.
He had never told Harry that the room he stayed in when he visited was the same room his father had stayed in. He had tried but he had never been able to force the words past his lips. Remus had stayed here too, on those nights when he was too drunk to Apparate. His bedroom was the first door on the right, the same room Ron occupied when he visited.
Sirius opened the first bedroom on the left and peered in. This was the only room that had gone completely unused. His eyes scanned the entirely empty room, thinking this was the most appropriate room for the nursery. No past associations, nothing to get over in here. He left the door open and moved further down the hall.
He passed the large open area, it too was completely empty of anything. He looked it over and imagined it full of toys. He and Hermione had been up here together last week, looking it over, planning. Planning had led to kissing, kissing had led to groping and groping had led to things they wouldn’t be able to do in here once the baby came.
The little smile created by the recent memory slowly slid off his face once he faced the final door on the left hand side. He passed the bathroom on the right and kept going. He stopped outside the door and closed his eyes, he braced himself for he knew not what and opened the door. He stepped inside the room and looked around. He had seldom been up here, no need really, except for the times that James couldn’t manage it on his own.
Everything was just as he remembered it, double bed in an oak frame that had a small headboard, tall dresser, long dresser with a tall mirror and a closet. As he looked around he thought of Harry and how Harry would have no home to go to once school was out. He decided to ask Hermione if Harry could come and live with them after graduation. He knew she would say yes and would be delighted for the company. He still had something to make up to Harry, having burned number twelve, Grimmauld Place to the ground.
Sirius bravely opened the dresser drawers and peered into each one. He found a few shirts he recognized as Harry’s but that was all. Nothing scary here. He continued into the room until he reached the closet door. He took another deep breath and opened the door. The first thing that met his eyes was James’ old quidditch uniform. Sirius reached out to touch the fabric, almost afraid to make contact with it. Once he had the tears began to roll down his face, he silently mourned his friend as he sunk to his knees, pulling the uniform with him, forcing it off the hanger.
Sirius let his grief roll over and through him, he had never done this properly. His hunt for Peter had led to his arrest, his arrest had led to the dementors. The dementors kept him focused on the guilt he felt but never actually allowed him to grieve. Grieving would lead to healing and dementors were not in the business of healing anything.
His tears slowed as memories of James flooded through him, happy memories, memories he thought were lost to him forever. A little of the weight that always seemed to press against his heart lifted a bit. He could see his friend laughing and smiling in his mind’s eye once again, it was something he never thought he would be able to do again. Sirius lifted his head, his unfocused eyes caught sight of something toward the back of the closet. He stood up and hung the uniform on its hanger, he would give it to Harry the next time he saw him.
He moved into the closet and toward the back. He reached down and found a rusted metal box with a plastic handle, his tool box. He lifted it and as he did so he brushed against another garment, hanging all the way to the back. He pulled it forward along the rack, gasping when he discovered what he had found. He dropped the box and pulled the long black robe off the hanger and exited the closet.
He couldn’t believe what he had found. It was his favorite robes, the ones vanity had forced him to buy. James also had these robes, they had gotten them together while shopping with Lily. He had purposely altered them to look a little rougher than they actually were, playing to his bad boy reputation. Lily wouldn’t let James rough up his but then James could never quite pull off the same look that Sirius could.
He threw them on, they were a little tighter then he remembered but it only made sense, he was much older now. He must have had a little growing to do, he was just a young pup back then, really. They still fit well though, despite the slight tightness. He pranced in front of the mirror, looking at himself from every angle. He admired the way the way they hung from his frame. He pulled them closed but shook his head, he preferred to wear his robes open. He opened a few buttons on his shirt and parted the material, showing off his tattoos. He mussed his hair the way he wore it back then, his famous ‘just shagged’ look.
He remembered fondly the way witches in Hogsmeade would practically flock around him and his bike, wearing these robes. He started to wonder why he hadn’t purchased a new bike before now. As he pondered this he realized he didn’t believe he deserved a new bike. The last time he had been on his old bike was the night the Potter’s had died, an event he believed himself to be responsible for. Ever since that night he had hated himself, held himself in utter contempt and pure loathing. He realized he must have granted himself some measure of forgiveness and wondered when that had happened.
He knew though, in the same moment he asked the question of himself he had the answer. It was her, everything good thing he had or felt or did was a result of her influence. She was this positive force in his life, gently and lovingly making the impossible, possible. He couldn’t wait to show her the bike even though he would never be able to explain its significance or tell her just how much she had changed him.
Sirius caught his own eye in the mirror and self consciously realized he’d been primping like a teenager who was stuck on himself. He felt a slight blush rise on his cheeks, he didn’t have time to reflect on it though, Hermione was calling for him, it sounded like she was on the stairs. He rushed out of the robes, desperately wanting to never be caught doing what he had just been doing. He threw them into the closet rather hastily and shut the door with a click. He exited the room in a fright, closed the door and rushed into the room the nursery would be in. He was still catching his breath when Hermione walked into the room.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hey.” He noticed she was dressed rather nicely, she wore a dark blue well tailored dress with a cropped jacket in cream. He leaned into her and kissed her cheek. “You look nice, nervous?”
“Terribly, I’m half afraid they’re going to eat me alive, literally.” Hermione only knew of two members, Cliodna Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Neither name gave her much hope for any enjoyment this evening. Hermione noticed his eyes looked a little red. “Are you alright, you’re eyes look…”
He cut her off, ignoring her query. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, you’re an accomplished witch, just hex their mouths closed if they give you any guff.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze in reassurance.
Hermione knew he was avoiding something but she had learned that there were some parts to him he would never share. She knew it would be senseless to push so she let it go. “Are you thinking about this room for the nursery?” She kept a hold of his hand, hoping to lend him some amount of comfort.
“I was, yeah. What do you think?” He released her hand wrapped an arm around her waist, enjoying the moment of two people who were planning their future.
“I think its perfect, especially since it’s the closest to the stairs. Too bad we don’t have a downstairs bedroom to work with.” She leaned into him as her eyes roamed around the room, picturing it finished and ready for the baby. “Are you still going to Remus’ this evening?”
“I was, yeah. Arthur Weasley owled and asked if he could drop by later on this evening, says he might have some news for me although he gave no indication as to what.” He pulled slightly away so he could see her face.
“Oh, really. I wonder if it has something to so with the ministry?” She smiled when he made a sound she knew meant he couldn’t care less if the ministry wanted something. “Well, I better get going. I’m getting there by floo, so I’ll see you later then?”
“Yeah.” He pulled her in for a kiss and then patted her bottom as she left the room. He held his breath, listening for the unmistakable sound of an activated fireplace. He left the future nursery, leaving the door open and returned to James’ room. He retrieved the tool box and left for Remus’.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The floo deposited Hermione into an anteroom that was decorated in dark green and silver. The walls were lined with portraits of haughty looking women, all of whom peered at her curiously. The friendliest looking of these portraits spoke to her as she attempted to leave the room.
“Are you the muggleborn?” She looked at Hermione as though she was a curiosity but she did so without malice.
Hermione nodded.
“Good luck, dear.” Curiosity changed to pity. The bees that were buzzing her stomach multiplied.
She left the anteroom and entered a huge chamber, in the middle of this chamber was a massive stone table, cut round and surrounded in chairs. The chairs were high backed, cushioned and had a throne like appearance. A few chairs, though, stood out, larger than the rest. She examined one closely, appreciating the detail to which the craftsman had gone. Beginning with the tail at the floor and ending with the head at the top a long snake wound its way up the chair. She didn’t recognize the crest that was carved into the back of the chair but she did remember what Rita had told her. This must belong to one of those exalted families. She lifted her eyes to the walls, there was more green and more portraits, hundreds of them, covering the walls from top to bottom. She had arrived early, wanting to make a good impression and found herself to be the only one here. The portraits whispered about her as she walked passed, she clearly heard the word ‘mudblood’ coming from more than one of them.
Hermione walked around the room, taking it all in. The light tapping of her foot fall was the only sound in the room. There were several antechambers, all which had fireplaces and more portraits. A set of double doors led to a kitchen where their dinner was being prepared. She wondered how long she would have to wait when she heard something from one of the antechambers. Her eyes narrowed when a face she recognized emerged into the room.
“Hermione, how delightful to see you!” Cliodna hurried over to her, greeting her like she was one of her closest friends. She leaned into Hermione and kissed the air beside her face.
“Hello, Clio.” Hermione was a good deal less enthusiastic than Cliodna. She forced politeness to pass her lips. She was only considering joining this august legion of purebloods, if she agreed she would have to try to get along with women like Clio.
“I didn’t see you at Queen Maeve last week, why not?” Cliodna didn’t seem to register that Hermione was less than thrilled to see her.
“I didn’t even know…” Cliodna cut her off.
“Didn’t know? Well, silly, it’s always the week before a Daughter’s meeting.” Cliodna continued to affect a friendship with Hermione. “Queen Maeve is a Daughter’s endeavor, all profit goes to the various Daughter’s sponsored charities. It is very nearly required that you make an appearance and socialize.”
“I didn’t the Queen Maeve gala belonged to the Daughter’s, interesting. So the Daughter’s are involved in charities?” Hermione saw this night as an opportunity to learn as much as she could about the Daughter’s first hand.
A group of women entered, Cliodna took her by the hand to make introductions. They were clearly here together and seemed to form a tight unit. Hermione recognized the surnames immediately; Rosier, MacNair, Crabbe, Rookwood, Yaxley…the names kept coming, all of them associated with death eaters. They were all very cool with her, looking at like she had garbage smeared across her face. She felt violated by their looks. She knew they could be in the same predicament as Cliodna, guilty by association but essentially harmless.
Other groups came in and were introduced to Hermione, she recognized quite a few names from Hogwarts; Bulstrode, Parkinson, Flint, Bletchly…and on and on. Individual women came in and were introduced, Hermione noticed that if they went to the group associated with death eaters they stayed their and didn’t mill about or socialize. That particular group stood tightly together and spoke in low tones, their eyes mostly on her but also on the other groups.
All of the other groups of women were more fluid, they walked around greeting each warmly, going from group to group. None of these women visited the other, now rather conspicuous, group of women. Only Cliodna seemed to visit with both which Hermione found rather curious.
Hermione was more than pleased when a face she recognized very well. Minerva McGonagall entered and scanned the meeting hall, smiling when she found what she was looking for, Hermione.
“Good to see you, Hermione. I’ve missed my star pupil, how have you been?” Hermione felt a flood of relief flow through her, finally a face she knew and trusted.
“Professor McGonagall, I had no idea! It’s so nice to see a friendly face.” Hermione gushed, holding back the urge to throw her arms around her former professor and hug her tightly.
“It’s Minerva, Hermione, from now on.” She corrected her gently, reminding her that they stood on equal footing in this environment.
Before Hermione could respond to her another member walked over and made her presence felt.
“How dare you show your face here after what you said about my son.” Narcissa Malfoy was seething, her voice a tight, constrained whisper. Her eyes darted about the hall and then back to Hermione. “You disgrace this hall with your presence!”
“You, Narcissa, are the real disgrace here. Your husbands actions cast a poor light on all of us.” Minerva’s sharp eyes penetrated through Narcissa’s veneer, reducing her outward anger and forcing her to retreat to the safety of the group of death eater’s relatives.
There were just too many women for Hermione to remember all of their names. She found a few stood out as familiar and without dangerous associations; Marchbanks, Abbott, Bones, Ollivander, Bagman, Borgin, Burkes…and others.
She was thrilled when three ladies walked in together who she knew, one of whom she would love to get to know; Andromeda Tonks, Madame Rosmerta and Miranda Goshawk. Andromeda hugged her tightly and gave her a pleased smile.
“I wanted you to be surprised. I’m so glad you came!” Andromeda released her, delighted with Hermione’s look of surprise.
“I thought they were trying to get me in with that family name clause, how did you get in?” Hermione was surprised to see Andromeda here with her muggle last name.
“Oh, I was inducted before my marriage to Ted. Bellatrix occupied the chair before I came on and once she gone I was a Tonks. There was never any mention of my occupying the chair.” Andromeda glanced at one of the large chairs that was close by. Hermione flicked her eyes to the back of the chair and recognized the family crest as belonging to Black.
“So this is my chair?” Hermione walked over and touched the hard, solid wood. She heard a distinct hiss from across the room and flicked her gaze in that direction. Narcissa Malfoy was glaring at her, the red, angry flush visible even from a distance.
“The one and only.” Andromeda glanced at Narcissa and patted Hermione reassuringly. “Ignore her.”
A light, melodic tinging was heard through out the hall. Hermione watched as the ladies took their seats, when she moved her chair back to sit Narcissa’s anger broke out into rage.
“Outrageous!”
“Narcissa your objection has already been noted and overruled.” Minerva’s clear voice rung out to every corner of the hall. She nodded her head to Hermione who finally sat, nervously, as she tried to settle herself.
Hermione was not prepared for the shock of who sat next to her. She recognized the horrid pink cardigan immediately.
“Hello Miss Granger, so lovely to see you outside of the classroom.” Delores Umbridge took her seat next Hermione. Her simpering voice sending a distinct, involuntary reaction of revulsion in Hermione. She loathed this woman like no other.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, finally opting to go with a curt nod, not trusting the words that might escape her mouth. She quickly turned away, discouraging any future discussion with the former High Inquisitor from Hogwarts.
Hermione endured the meeting which began with dinner and ended with a discussion about herself. The Daughter’s were involved in a number of charities; St. Mungo’s, Hogwart’s scholarship fund, the Society for Distressed Witches and a committee that acted as a liaison with the Ministry of Magic. Each committee had a chair who stood and gave a short report. She learned that her placement was not yet set in stone. They would have a vote at the next meeting provided she indicate her willingness to join. Hermione had been giving that question a great deal of consideration through out her time there.
She had been very close to saying no, she wondered if she could see this through. She wasn’t all that welcome but those that she did like, she liked very much. Each of them gave her an encouraging smile, willing her announce in the affirmative. It was those women who helped her to make up her mind.
“Thank you so much, to all of you, for offering me this wonderful opportunity. Yes, I think I will providing I’m voted in at the next meeting.” In her mind she had a serious doubt as to whether or not that would even happen.
After the meeting Minerva invited Hermione and a few others to tea in her private quarters at Hogwarts. Hermione returned home, her mind filled to bursting with everything that transpired. She wanted to share every minute of it with Sirius. She returned to the antechamber with the fireplace, eager to leave this hall.
She was not prepared for what she returned home to.
“Sirius, really, you need to give this some consideration.” Arthur Wealey was working very hard to control his anger.
“I’ve already told you Arthur, I don’t give a damn if they have restored my hereditary seat on the Wizengamut. I’m not doing it. You can tell those arses at the ministry I said to ‘fuck your mum!’” Hermione took in a sharp, shocked breath of air, Sirius twisted his torso toward her. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t know you were here.”
Hermione sat down on the couch and watched Sirius pace around, fuming mad, glaring at Arthur.
“What about the reparations, will you at least accept that?” Arthur sounded weary, he knew he wasn’t going to make headway with Sirius tonight.
“Fuck that! No way! What they did will never be alright, I don’t need the gold.” Sensing that Arthur was nearing the conclusion of his visit he sat down, resting his hand on Hermione’s thigh, taking comfort in her soothing presence.
Arthur stood up and sighed. “Alright, Sirius. Hermione, its always nice to see you. Molly will be wanting to fuss over you soon.” Arthur paused just long enough for Hermione to issue her greeting.
“Good to see you too, Mr. Weasley.” She wasn’t quite able to call him Arthur yet.
Once he had left Hermione and Sirius shared their experiences, taking their comfort in each other, talking late into the night.
Daughters of the International Warlock Convention of 1289
Hermione patted the niffler that was perched in her lap, it completely ignored her wedding band and engagement ring which was rather odd. Hermione was listening to her hostess as she explained, in detail, why Sirius Black was the most desirable wizard in England. Hermione wanted to ask her hostess a question, she had almost asked her question at least a dozen times now. The pauses in speech did not allow quite enough time for Hermione to interject. Hermione agreed with the other witch, wholeheartedly, who had given this a great deal of thought and it was beginning to annoy Hermione. Hermione decided she had waited long enough, she was just going to have to butt in.
“So, Lyra, why exactly did you and Sirius stop dating?”
Lyra stood angrily, her face red and contorted with rage, she opened her mouth to speak and let out a sound remarkably similar to their doorbell.
“What?”
Lyra opened her mouth, once again the only sound she emitted bore an uncanny likeness to the doorbell.
“Hermione...doorrrrr.” Sirius had entered the room and was pushing against her shoulder, a little roughly and carelessly.
“Cut it out, Sirius.”
Sirius opened his mouth to speak, instead of his voice she heard their doorbell, three times, in rapid succession.
Hermione snuggled into Sirius’ warm body only to have him push her toward her side of the bed. “The door, Hermione,” he said sleepily. “Go answer the door.” He gave her another shove toward the edge of the bed.
Hermione slowly sat up, she gave him a cross look, yawned and then stretched. She rubbed her eyes and slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed, first one and then the other. She slipped her feet into the furry black slippers that resembled Padfoot, her Christmas present from Remus. Hermione rose to her feet and shuffled toward the door, nearly stepping on Crookshanks tail. She grabbed her house robe, slipped into it and opened the bedroom door. Before she could close it behind her the doorbell rang again, Hermione walked past the dining room and picked up her wand, eyeing the door and deciding on an appropriate hex. She reached the front door, flicked her wand at it, stifling a yawn as it opened. Their visitor was a young wizard, just a couple of years older than herself, dressed in light grey robes bearing a logo in bright lilac and soft pink.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m from Silkson and Chiffmore, I’m here to deliver the dresses you ordered from us.” The delivery wizard eyed her wand nervously, her irritated features doing nothing to put him at ease.
“Silkson and Chiffmore? Oh…” Hermione’s lips curved into a pleased smile. “The bridesmaid dresses?”
Hermione jumped lightly, a pair of large, strong hands had just rested on her hips. She felt warm breath against her neck just before a pair of lips nuzzled against her skin. “What’s taking so long?” Sirius had woken fully, grumpy that she wasn’t in bed with him. The fact that he had practically shoved her out was forgotten entirely.
“I-I believe so.” The delivery wizard stammered in the presence of Sirius. Whether it was his former status of convicted felon or his current celebrity status was unclear. Sirius jerked his head in non committal greeting before turning away and into the house. Hermione stepped away from the door to allow him entrance into their home. She conjured a hook on the wall and watched as he hung them up. He glanced briefly at his clipboard before returning his attention to Hermione. “The gold has already been taken from your account so unless there is anything else I can do for you, I’ll be off.”
“No, thank you so much. You wouldn’t believe what I had to do to get them.” Hermione glanced eagerly at the gowns.
Her answer forced the delivery wizard’s eyebrows up in surprise, he immediately schooled his expression into something much more polite. “If there are any problems just send us an owl.” He walked back to the front door and let himself out.
Hermione controlled herself just long enough for him to shut the door behind him. She squealed excitedly, rushed into the dining room and quickly wrote two letters, one to Ginny, the other to Tonks. Sirius glanced at the dresses which were hanging from the wall in the entry way, he couldn’t help the self satisfied grin, remembering the fifty gold he had won off of Bill. Hermione gave Mercury, their post owl, the two letters and sent him on his way.
“Sirius, I’m going to study, will you let Tonks and Ginny know where I am?” She walked up to him and stood on her toes to reach up and kiss him. He made a frustrated sound of protest, he had other ideas for her time.
“I’ll make it up to you.” She smiled shyly and looked away.
“Do you mean what I think you mean?” He pulled her against his heating form, speaking seductively in her ear.
Hermione giggled softly. “Mmm hmm.” She pulled away slowly, looking any where but into his eyes.
“Really…” Sirius shifted slightly in place, he pulled her once more against his body, roughly and pressed his pelvis into her so she could feel his desire. A little sigh escaped her which brought a flush to her cheeks.“I may have to hold you to that.” He kissed a spot on her neck and then grazed his teeth against the skin. She shivered involuntarily, her resolve slipping, thoughts of the library fleeing in the direction of the bedroom. Sirius released her suddenly, satisfied she would be in agony, just like him. He walked over to the pantry and searched for something to make breakfast with.
He pretended to be consumed with his task, glancing over at her as she moved away from him and toward the door to the basement. The moment she opened the door, he flicked his wand at her, quickly turning back to the pantry. Hermione paused, she turned to look at him but he appeared to be fully occupied with his self appointed task. She could have sworn she felt a spell hit her. Sirius sweated each second she stood there, knowing full well if he looked her in the eye he would not be able to hold his laughter in. If she caught him, he would be in trouble on a variety of levels. He could practically feel her eyes boring into his back.
Hermione couldn’t detect his guilt and she was trying her damnedest to flush him out. The fact that he was still occupied with the pantry was a slight give away. He had been acting suspiciously over the last week, she strongly suspected him of bad behavior but she hadn’t been able to catch him at it yet. She finally turned back toward the basement door and slowly descended the steps to her library. When she stepped fully into the library she inhaled deeply, trying to get another whiff of the strong smell she couldn’t define. She smelled nothing at all, not even the books which had a unique smell that she loved. Lately when she came down here, her sense of smell failed her completely.
Sirius believed it had something to do with her pregnancy, he had explained that magical pregnancies were different from muggle ones. He didn’t seem surprised at all that sometimes she couldn’t smell anything. Apparently Lily had experienced something similar from time to time. Her sense of hearing would leave suddenly and unexpectedly, sometimes not returning for days on end.
Sirius was rather amused by his little joke.
Hermione had received a number of books on pregnancy from both Molly Weasley and her mother. She had read them all, cover to cover, but could find nothing about sensory loss. She added her question to her list of things to ask at her next check up.
What she didn’t know was that Sirius was lying to her and was pranking her to keep her from smelling the result of his transgression in the library. He had been in the process of removing the odor when she descended the steps. She had gotten a strong whiff of it before he was able to spell away her sense of smell. He had not yet been able to get down there to finish the job and was rather enjoying living just a little bit dangerously.
Hermione gave up trying to detect the rather obnoxious odor and settled herself on a couch, pulled a few textbooks out of her book bag and continued her preparation. Her NEWTs were only a few months away now and she could feel the beginnings of anxiety, worried she wouldn’t be well prepared. She had about an hour to study after which she would be joined by Tonks and Ginny for more wedding planning. Later on that evening she would be attending her first meeting of the Daughters of the International Warlock Convention of 1289. She cherished the time that she studied, it kept her on a schedule, bringing order to her rather busy life.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Sirius ascended the stairs, heading towards one of the upstairs bedrooms. He was trying to remember where he left his tool kit, for some weird reason he thought it might be up here. It had been so many years ago that he had last used the kit, his memory was a bit fuzzy. He had a lot of work to do on the bike. He and Remus had mapped out even more charms than were on his last bike. He knew that Hagrid had his old bike and was loath to take it from him. Besides, the old bike held too many memories for him. He and James used to go riding on it, piss drunk, in the time between graduation and marriage. James had lived here with Sirius during that time, a few months of wild partying away from the eyes of his parents and Lily. Sirius reached the landing and took a ragged breath, bracing himself to enter James’ room.
He knew he would have to come up here sooner or later and address his past, deal once more with the passing of his best friend, his brother. His eyes landed on the last door on the left, he slowly placed one foot in front of the other. He wasn’t sure if James had left anything up here or if he had taken it all with him to Godric’s Hollow. He half hoped, half dreaded finding something of James, some memento, maybe something he could give to Harry.
He had never told Harry that the room he stayed in when he visited was the same room his father had stayed in. He had tried but he had never been able to force the words past his lips. Remus had stayed here too, on those nights when he was too drunk to Apparate. His bedroom was the first door on the right, the same room Ron occupied when he visited.
Sirius opened the first bedroom on the left and peered in. This was the only room that had gone completely unused. His eyes scanned the entirely empty room, thinking this was the most appropriate room for the nursery. No past associations, nothing to get over in here. He left the door open and moved further down the hall.
He passed the large open area, it too was completely empty of anything. He looked it over and imagined it full of toys. He and Hermione had been up here together last week, looking it over, planning. Planning had led to kissing, kissing had led to groping and groping had led to things they wouldn’t be able to do in here once the baby came.
The little smile created by the recent memory slowly slid off his face once he faced the final door on the left hand side. He passed the bathroom on the right and kept going. He stopped outside the door and closed his eyes, he braced himself for he knew not what and opened the door. He stepped inside the room and looked around. He had seldom been up here, no need really, except for the times that James couldn’t manage it on his own.
Everything was just as he remembered it, double bed in an oak frame that had a small headboard, tall dresser, long dresser with a tall mirror and a closet. As he looked around he thought of Harry and how Harry would have no home to go to once school was out. He decided to ask Hermione if Harry could come and live with them after graduation. He knew she would say yes and would be delighted for the company. He still had something to make up to Harry, having burned number twelve, Grimmauld Place to the ground.
Sirius bravely opened the dresser drawers and peered into each one. He found a few shirts he recognized as Harry’s but that was all. Nothing scary here. He continued into the room until he reached the closet door. He took another deep breath and opened the door. The first thing that met his eyes was James’ old quidditch uniform. Sirius reached out to touch the fabric, almost afraid to make contact with it. Once he had the tears began to roll down his face, he silently mourned his friend as he sunk to his knees, pulling the uniform with him, forcing it off the hanger.
Sirius let his grief roll over and through him, he had never done this properly. His hunt for Peter had led to his arrest, his arrest had led to the dementors. The dementors kept him focused on the guilt he felt but never actually allowed him to grieve. Grieving would lead to healing and dementors were not in the business of healing anything.
His tears slowed as memories of James flooded through him, happy memories, memories he thought were lost to him forever. A little of the weight that always seemed to press against his heart lifted a bit. He could see his friend laughing and smiling in his mind’s eye once again, it was something he never thought he would be able to do again. Sirius lifted his head, his unfocused eyes caught sight of something toward the back of the closet. He stood up and hung the uniform on its hanger, he would give it to Harry the next time he saw him.
He moved into the closet and toward the back. He reached down and found a rusted metal box with a plastic handle, his tool box. He lifted it and as he did so he brushed against another garment, hanging all the way to the back. He pulled it forward along the rack, gasping when he discovered what he had found. He dropped the box and pulled the long black robe off the hanger and exited the closet.
He couldn’t believe what he had found. It was his favorite robes, the ones vanity had forced him to buy. James also had these robes, they had gotten them together while shopping with Lily. He had purposely altered them to look a little rougher than they actually were, playing to his bad boy reputation. Lily wouldn’t let James rough up his but then James could never quite pull off the same look that Sirius could.
He threw them on, they were a little tighter then he remembered but it only made sense, he was much older now. He must have had a little growing to do, he was just a young pup back then, really. They still fit well though, despite the slight tightness. He pranced in front of the mirror, looking at himself from every angle. He admired the way the way they hung from his frame. He pulled them closed but shook his head, he preferred to wear his robes open. He opened a few buttons on his shirt and parted the material, showing off his tattoos. He mussed his hair the way he wore it back then, his famous ‘just shagged’ look.
He remembered fondly the way witches in Hogsmeade would practically flock around him and his bike, wearing these robes. He started to wonder why he hadn’t purchased a new bike before now. As he pondered this he realized he didn’t believe he deserved a new bike. The last time he had been on his old bike was the night the Potter’s had died, an event he believed himself to be responsible for. Ever since that night he had hated himself, held himself in utter contempt and pure loathing. He realized he must have granted himself some measure of forgiveness and wondered when that had happened.
He knew though, in the same moment he asked the question of himself he had the answer. It was her, everything good thing he had or felt or did was a result of her influence. She was this positive force in his life, gently and lovingly making the impossible, possible. He couldn’t wait to show her the bike even though he would never be able to explain its significance or tell her just how much she had changed him.
Sirius caught his own eye in the mirror and self consciously realized he’d been primping like a teenager who was stuck on himself. He felt a slight blush rise on his cheeks, he didn’t have time to reflect on it though, Hermione was calling for him, it sounded like she was on the stairs. He rushed out of the robes, desperately wanting to never be caught doing what he had just been doing. He threw them into the closet rather hastily and shut the door with a click. He exited the room in a fright, closed the door and rushed into the room the nursery would be in. He was still catching his breath when Hermione walked into the room.
“Hey,” she greeted.
“Hey.” He noticed she was dressed rather nicely, she wore a dark blue well tailored dress with a cropped jacket in cream. He leaned into her and kissed her cheek. “You look nice, nervous?”
“Terribly, I’m half afraid they’re going to eat me alive, literally.” Hermione only knew of two members, Cliodna Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy. Neither name gave her much hope for any enjoyment this evening. Hermione noticed his eyes looked a little red. “Are you alright, you’re eyes look…”
He cut her off, ignoring her query. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine, you’re an accomplished witch, just hex their mouths closed if they give you any guff.” He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze in reassurance.
Hermione knew he was avoiding something but she had learned that there were some parts to him he would never share. She knew it would be senseless to push so she let it go. “Are you thinking about this room for the nursery?” She kept a hold of his hand, hoping to lend him some amount of comfort.
“I was, yeah. What do you think?” He released her hand wrapped an arm around her waist, enjoying the moment of two people who were planning their future.
“I think its perfect, especially since it’s the closest to the stairs. Too bad we don’t have a downstairs bedroom to work with.” She leaned into him as her eyes roamed around the room, picturing it finished and ready for the baby. “Are you still going to Remus’ this evening?”
“I was, yeah. Arthur Weasley owled and asked if he could drop by later on this evening, says he might have some news for me although he gave no indication as to what.” He pulled slightly away so he could see her face.
“Oh, really. I wonder if it has something to so with the ministry?” She smiled when he made a sound she knew meant he couldn’t care less if the ministry wanted something. “Well, I better get going. I’m getting there by floo, so I’ll see you later then?”
“Yeah.” He pulled her in for a kiss and then patted her bottom as she left the room. He held his breath, listening for the unmistakable sound of an activated fireplace. He left the future nursery, leaving the door open and returned to James’ room. He retrieved the tool box and left for Remus’.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The floo deposited Hermione into an anteroom that was decorated in dark green and silver. The walls were lined with portraits of haughty looking women, all of whom peered at her curiously. The friendliest looking of these portraits spoke to her as she attempted to leave the room.
“Are you the muggleborn?” She looked at Hermione as though she was a curiosity but she did so without malice.
Hermione nodded.
“Good luck, dear.” Curiosity changed to pity. The bees that were buzzing her stomach multiplied.
She left the anteroom and entered a huge chamber, in the middle of this chamber was a massive stone table, cut round and surrounded in chairs. The chairs were high backed, cushioned and had a throne like appearance. A few chairs, though, stood out, larger than the rest. She examined one closely, appreciating the detail to which the craftsman had gone. Beginning with the tail at the floor and ending with the head at the top a long snake wound its way up the chair. She didn’t recognize the crest that was carved into the back of the chair but she did remember what Rita had told her. This must belong to one of those exalted families. She lifted her eyes to the walls, there was more green and more portraits, hundreds of them, covering the walls from top to bottom. She had arrived early, wanting to make a good impression and found herself to be the only one here. The portraits whispered about her as she walked passed, she clearly heard the word ‘mudblood’ coming from more than one of them.
Hermione walked around the room, taking it all in. The light tapping of her foot fall was the only sound in the room. There were several antechambers, all which had fireplaces and more portraits. A set of double doors led to a kitchen where their dinner was being prepared. She wondered how long she would have to wait when she heard something from one of the antechambers. Her eyes narrowed when a face she recognized emerged into the room.
“Hermione, how delightful to see you!” Cliodna hurried over to her, greeting her like she was one of her closest friends. She leaned into Hermione and kissed the air beside her face.
“Hello, Clio.” Hermione was a good deal less enthusiastic than Cliodna. She forced politeness to pass her lips. She was only considering joining this august legion of purebloods, if she agreed she would have to try to get along with women like Clio.
“I didn’t see you at Queen Maeve last week, why not?” Cliodna didn’t seem to register that Hermione was less than thrilled to see her.
“I didn’t even know…” Cliodna cut her off.
“Didn’t know? Well, silly, it’s always the week before a Daughter’s meeting.” Cliodna continued to affect a friendship with Hermione. “Queen Maeve is a Daughter’s endeavor, all profit goes to the various Daughter’s sponsored charities. It is very nearly required that you make an appearance and socialize.”
“I didn’t the Queen Maeve gala belonged to the Daughter’s, interesting. So the Daughter’s are involved in charities?” Hermione saw this night as an opportunity to learn as much as she could about the Daughter’s first hand.
A group of women entered, Cliodna took her by the hand to make introductions. They were clearly here together and seemed to form a tight unit. Hermione recognized the surnames immediately; Rosier, MacNair, Crabbe, Rookwood, Yaxley…the names kept coming, all of them associated with death eaters. They were all very cool with her, looking at like she had garbage smeared across her face. She felt violated by their looks. She knew they could be in the same predicament as Cliodna, guilty by association but essentially harmless.
Other groups came in and were introduced to Hermione, she recognized quite a few names from Hogwarts; Bulstrode, Parkinson, Flint, Bletchly…and on and on. Individual women came in and were introduced, Hermione noticed that if they went to the group associated with death eaters they stayed their and didn’t mill about or socialize. That particular group stood tightly together and spoke in low tones, their eyes mostly on her but also on the other groups.
All of the other groups of women were more fluid, they walked around greeting each warmly, going from group to group. None of these women visited the other, now rather conspicuous, group of women. Only Cliodna seemed to visit with both which Hermione found rather curious.
Hermione was more than pleased when a face she recognized very well. Minerva McGonagall entered and scanned the meeting hall, smiling when she found what she was looking for, Hermione.
“Good to see you, Hermione. I’ve missed my star pupil, how have you been?” Hermione felt a flood of relief flow through her, finally a face she knew and trusted.
“Professor McGonagall, I had no idea! It’s so nice to see a friendly face.” Hermione gushed, holding back the urge to throw her arms around her former professor and hug her tightly.
“It’s Minerva, Hermione, from now on.” She corrected her gently, reminding her that they stood on equal footing in this environment.
Before Hermione could respond to her another member walked over and made her presence felt.
“How dare you show your face here after what you said about my son.” Narcissa Malfoy was seething, her voice a tight, constrained whisper. Her eyes darted about the hall and then back to Hermione. “You disgrace this hall with your presence!”
“You, Narcissa, are the real disgrace here. Your husbands actions cast a poor light on all of us.” Minerva’s sharp eyes penetrated through Narcissa’s veneer, reducing her outward anger and forcing her to retreat to the safety of the group of death eater’s relatives.
There were just too many women for Hermione to remember all of their names. She found a few stood out as familiar and without dangerous associations; Marchbanks, Abbott, Bones, Ollivander, Bagman, Borgin, Burkes…and others.
She was thrilled when three ladies walked in together who she knew, one of whom she would love to get to know; Andromeda Tonks, Madame Rosmerta and Miranda Goshawk. Andromeda hugged her tightly and gave her a pleased smile.
“I wanted you to be surprised. I’m so glad you came!” Andromeda released her, delighted with Hermione’s look of surprise.
“I thought they were trying to get me in with that family name clause, how did you get in?” Hermione was surprised to see Andromeda here with her muggle last name.
“Oh, I was inducted before my marriage to Ted. Bellatrix occupied the chair before I came on and once she gone I was a Tonks. There was never any mention of my occupying the chair.” Andromeda glanced at one of the large chairs that was close by. Hermione flicked her eyes to the back of the chair and recognized the family crest as belonging to Black.
“So this is my chair?” Hermione walked over and touched the hard, solid wood. She heard a distinct hiss from across the room and flicked her gaze in that direction. Narcissa Malfoy was glaring at her, the red, angry flush visible even from a distance.
“The one and only.” Andromeda glanced at Narcissa and patted Hermione reassuringly. “Ignore her.”
A light, melodic tinging was heard through out the hall. Hermione watched as the ladies took their seats, when she moved her chair back to sit Narcissa’s anger broke out into rage.
“Outrageous!”
“Narcissa your objection has already been noted and overruled.” Minerva’s clear voice rung out to every corner of the hall. She nodded her head to Hermione who finally sat, nervously, as she tried to settle herself.
Hermione was not prepared for the shock of who sat next to her. She recognized the horrid pink cardigan immediately.
“Hello Miss Granger, so lovely to see you outside of the classroom.” Delores Umbridge took her seat next Hermione. Her simpering voice sending a distinct, involuntary reaction of revulsion in Hermione. She loathed this woman like no other.
Hermione opened and closed her mouth a few times, finally opting to go with a curt nod, not trusting the words that might escape her mouth. She quickly turned away, discouraging any future discussion with the former High Inquisitor from Hogwarts.
Hermione endured the meeting which began with dinner and ended with a discussion about herself. The Daughter’s were involved in a number of charities; St. Mungo’s, Hogwart’s scholarship fund, the Society for Distressed Witches and a committee that acted as a liaison with the Ministry of Magic. Each committee had a chair who stood and gave a short report. She learned that her placement was not yet set in stone. They would have a vote at the next meeting provided she indicate her willingness to join. Hermione had been giving that question a great deal of consideration through out her time there.
She had been very close to saying no, she wondered if she could see this through. She wasn’t all that welcome but those that she did like, she liked very much. Each of them gave her an encouraging smile, willing her announce in the affirmative. It was those women who helped her to make up her mind.
“Thank you so much, to all of you, for offering me this wonderful opportunity. Yes, I think I will providing I’m voted in at the next meeting.” In her mind she had a serious doubt as to whether or not that would even happen.
After the meeting Minerva invited Hermione and a few others to tea in her private quarters at Hogwarts. Hermione returned home, her mind filled to bursting with everything that transpired. She wanted to share every minute of it with Sirius. She returned to the antechamber with the fireplace, eager to leave this hall.
She was not prepared for what she returned home to.
“Sirius, really, you need to give this some consideration.” Arthur Wealey was working very hard to control his anger.
“I’ve already told you Arthur, I don’t give a damn if they have restored my hereditary seat on the Wizengamut. I’m not doing it. You can tell those arses at the ministry I said to ‘fuck your mum!’” Hermione took in a sharp, shocked breath of air, Sirius twisted his torso toward her. “Sorry, baby. I didn’t know you were here.”
Hermione sat down on the couch and watched Sirius pace around, fuming mad, glaring at Arthur.
“What about the reparations, will you at least accept that?” Arthur sounded weary, he knew he wasn’t going to make headway with Sirius tonight.
“Fuck that! No way! What they did will never be alright, I don’t need the gold.” Sensing that Arthur was nearing the conclusion of his visit he sat down, resting his hand on Hermione’s thigh, taking comfort in her soothing presence.
Arthur stood up and sighed. “Alright, Sirius. Hermione, its always nice to see you. Molly will be wanting to fuss over you soon.” Arthur paused just long enough for Hermione to issue her greeting.
“Good to see you too, Mr. Weasley.” She wasn’t quite able to call him Arthur yet.
Once he had left Hermione and Sirius shared their experiences, taking their comfort in each other, talking late into the night.
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I couldn't understand what sort of spell Sirius cast on Hermione when she was heading to the library, did it has anything to do with her lack of olfact (although if I'm not mistaken he had already cast that depriving smell spell before unless it needs reinforcement and I didn't catch that) or is something else we'll learn about in the next chapter? I'm really curious about it as well as about the moment Hermione will find out Sirius bike.
The scene in James old bedroom was so touching, we could really feel Sirius's pain and sorrow, you're very good at capturing and displaying the character's feelings, any character actually, not just Sirius.
Very good work.
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I loved sticking a few good guys on the Daughter's for Hermione to team up with. There will be more about that in coming chapters but I will unravel it slowly.
Sirius' seat has been reinstated although he is going to fight it tooth and nail. He has a hatred for the ministry and all its works.
At the end of the last chapter Sirius was smoking cigars in Hermione's library (not too bright), he didn't have a chance to spell the smell away, only the cigars, ashtrays and smoke before he had to rush off to break up the cat fight. He could have gotten rid of it by now but the Marauder in him enjoys skirting disaster, even if it is in a domestic capacity. He's playing a little game with her that he knows has the potential to blow up in his face. If it didn't, where would the fun be?
I actually started working on the bike scene before I started working on this chapter. I'm excited about unveiling it because it will be significant for a few reasons.
The scene in James' room is important because it shows how far he has come, to finally be able to feel some self forgiveness, something he couldn't have accomplished without her. His inabiltiy to express his emotions will be dealt with in a coming chapter, it will be closely tied to his bike and her reaction to it.
Thank you! The emotional states the character's are in is often where my emphasis is. I'm as good at describing how a thing looks, probably because I'm more interested in how that thing feels. It feels nice to know that it comes across well.
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