Chapter 6

When Hermione awoke in her bed, she yawned lazily. It was so nice to wake up before the jarring noise of the wind-up alarm on her bedside table. She went to throw her arms above her head and stretch when she realized she was held down. It was unlike her to have the covers over her hands, but they were trapped up in the sheets. When she struggled to be free, she became aware of a heavy arm on her stomach, holding her down.

Fighting a panic, Hermione breathed deeply. It was still too dark to see clearly, but the arm certainly belonged to a man. A rather large man.

Just as she was inhaling to loose a shattering scream, she remembered where she was. In her bed, with Sirius. It was his arm on her, not some crazed rapist intent on defiling her. She stiffened and took stock of what was happening. Sirius had actually moved in the night and put his arm over her. She couldn't help but be excited at this development.

She gingerly removed his arm, slipping out from beneath him. She got a small thrill from touching him, but forced herself to remain detached. Just as she was slipping from the bed, his hand shot out and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her backwards into the bed. He wrapped one arm around her middle; the other arm was beneath her neck, holding her opposite shoulder. He was spooned against her backside, pressed so firmly against him she could feel his chest hair tickling her spine.

"Sirius?" It was still too dark to see if he was actually awake or if his actions were instinct or unconscious. Her heart was racing with the thought that he might actually be awake. She hadn't allowed herself to think that he might never recover, but the dread of that idea had been held over her head every moment.

In response, he only pulled her closer to him. Every movement on her end created a tightening of his grip on her, until she was forced to stop struggling lest she be strangled. She tried to think of what the proper thing to do in this situation would be, but she couldn't get her brain to work properly when she was beginning to feel his hardening arousal pressing against her bottom. Apparently, despite his lack of cognitive ability, his body was perfectly functioning.

That's good, Hermione, keep speaking in clinical terms. That way you'll forget all about that thick, hard...

"Where the fuck am I?"

Hermione gasped and immediately spun in his arms. In his apparent shock, he'd loosened his grip, and she was finally able to move. She looked at his face and was able to make out that his eyes were wide open and his mouth agape.

"Um... you're in your house, Grimmauld Place. And you're in my bed. Well, you've been sleeping here. Without me. Until last night when I ended up in here too." She was babbling but she couldn't stop, a huge grin spreading over her face and tears sparkling in her eyes.

"And who... are you?"

Hermione had prepared for the fact that he might not remember her, or anything, from before his time in the Veil, but it still hurt to think he'd forgotten her. "Hermione Granger."

"Hermione..." Sirius gasped. "Oh, my gods! Hermione!" His voice was frantic. He pushed her onto her back and quickly straddled her hips, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her. Hermione was all too aware of his erection pressing against her lower belly, but she was too excited that he was actually awake and coherent to give it a second thought.

She could see a panicked look on his face, and she leaned as far as she could to turn on the lamp. He stared at her face, seemingly memorizing her features.

"Where is Harry?" he demanded. She felt a thankful ache that he remembered his godson as well.

"Harry is fine, he's with Ginny. Everything is fine."

Sirius nodded, looking relieved. He met her eyes again and said, "You've gotten old."

She snorted and began to laugh. She laughed out loud, losing control over her laughter while Sirius looked at her, slightly shocked. Her mirth wracked her slight frame until emotion caught up with her and her laughs became sobs. Her breath was hitching and tears were streaming from the sides of her eyes onto the pillow.

"Hermione, stop that." She inhaled sharply at his command and was able to contain herself. She sniffed delicately and gave him a watery smile.

"You're okay, Sirius, you're back and you're okay." Her hands were running up and down his arms, which were still pinning her shoulders to the bed. She felt a strange shock at the contact and took the time to marvel that his muscles were extremely well-formed beneath her hands.

"I... I'm okay? I remember... my cousin aiming at me... the green flash... and falling backwards. Then..." he looked confused and shook his head, "I remember the front door of Grimmauld Place. That's it, until now. What's happened?"

No wonder he thinks I look old, she mused. He has no idea years have passed since his "death." Hermione took a deep breath, which was difficult with a body on her. The scar on her chest was itching like crazy, and she rubbed it absentmindedly through her shirt. Sirius' eyes were drawn to her action, and she saw him wet his lips with the tip of his tongue as he followed the movement. Her eyes widened, and she put her hands on his shoulders, pushing him away.

He rolled off of her and sat on the bed beside her. She moved to sit cross-legged in front of him. She took a deep breath, fortifying herself to tell him what had happened.

"Sirius, five years ago you went through the Veil. We were sure you were dead, because no one ever comes back from beyond the Veil. Ever. But it was like I could feel you, sense you. I couldn't give up. I found a spell and a potion, and I brought you back." Her wide smile was back, and she was internally smirking at her overly simplified explanation, but Sirius only looked confused and lost.

"While you were gone, we won the war. We... lost some people, though. Remus died. I'm so sorry."

Sirius nodded, seemingly taking the news in stride, but a flash of intense hurt crossed his eyes before he closed them. Hermione went on to list the casualties, then the marriages and births. He seemed pleased to hear about Teddy Lupin, but his smile faded quickly. He didn't ask about the death of Voldemort, but there was all the time in the world for those details.

"So, I've been gone for five years." It was not a question, but Hermione nodded anyway. "Why do I feel so... wrong? So strange, so incomplete, so off?" His words were rushed, and his face was the quintessence of confusion.

"I think it may take some time for you to get entirely back to normal. I should think it's perfectly natural to feel out of sorts after all you've been through. I can't even believe we're sitting here, talking like old friends when everyone thought you were dead!"

"Everyone but you," he reminded her. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, feeling another jolt when her fingers grazed his bare skin. He gasped, and she yanked her hand away. Hermione's heart was hammering; what was happening to her? He grabbed her hand back and held it in his, stroking it with his long fingers. He had a look of intense concentration on his face. His eyes closed, and he brought her fingers to his mouth. Kissing her fingertips, he looked at her again.

Hermione had let her eyes slip shut and her head fall back slightly. His simple kiss on her fingers was more erotic and satisfying than any fumbling, clandestine touch she'd ever experienced. When he opened his mouth and ran his tongue gently over the pad of her forefinger, Hermione moaned.

He couldn't help but taste her. He knew he should be more concerned; he'd just been informed he had basically come back from the dead. And he'd awoken in the bed of his godson's best friend. He'd been told his own best friend was dead, the war was over, and he was alive. All these thoughts flickered through his mind like fireflies, and yet the only thing he could focus on was the alluring scent coming off this young woman before him, the silkiness of her fingers, and the feeling of completeness that came when he held her hand.

She was beautiful in her passion. Sirius knew something strange was happening; he was rock hard from merely licking her finger and wanted nothing more than to throw her back against the bed and take her as hard as he could.

He dropped her hand like it burned him, and her eyes shot open. She mumbled an apology and jumped from the bed. He didn't stop her; instead he stared at her like he wanted to devour her, and he would have, given half a chance.

She was gathering her work clothes from her drawers. "I have to go to work. I'll Firecall Harry, and he'll Floo right over. He'll be so happy to see you, he missed you so much." She spoke quickly and went to leave the room, but Sirius was out of bed in a flash, hand tight around her wrist. She stopped, but didn't turn to him. She couldn't explain the strange feelings inside her, the need to let him touch her, the feeling of discontent that began the moment she left the bed. She knew it was related to the spell she'd cast, the bond that was between them, but she didn't know how to handle it. His hand on her wrist was enough to make her breath catch.

Sirius breathed her scent in through his mouth. She was exquisite, and she'd been right in front of his eyes for years. He'd only ever seen her as a child, but the creature in front of him was no doubt a woman. He stepped closer to her and placed his hands on her upper arms, drawing her back against his warm, firm chest.

"And you, Hermione?" His voice was silken sin. "Did you miss me?"

Hermione fought the urge to loll her head back and give in to the sensation of his voice in her ear, but she controlled herself. "Of course. I brought you back, didn't I?"

His mouth was ghosting over the shell of her ear, and she felt more than heard his next words.

"Yes, you did. And soon you will tell me how. And why."

He let go of her arms and she stumbled forward, letting her momentum carry her out of the room.

Sirius heard the bathroom door shut, and finally let out the breath he'd been holding. His mind was racing and his heart pounding. He'd been away... for five years of his life. He'd lost so much. He took a moment to think about Remus, his only friend for so long, even when Remus had believed him a murderer. And now he was gone... but at least he was with Tonks. Sirius had been surprised when Hermione said the two of them had finally gotten together, and he was thrilled that Remus was finally, officially, his family. And little Teddy was his family as well. He'd have to get to know him.

That made him think of Harry. Amazing, strong, resilient Harry. How much fun they could have had if only there had been no war. If only they'd been normal. But now everything is normal, he told himself. He could see Harry, teach him and be a parent to him. Sirius' name had been cleared; he would never have to hide again.

And he had Hermione to thank for that. The strange, lovely, intoxicating witch who had no idea of her own power. He had sensed that much from their brief moments together. She had absolutely no clue she was sex incarnate. Neither had he, for that matter, but he sure did now. For some reason he needed her, and nothing kept Sirius Black from what he needed.

Five years in oblivion did little to change the man inside him, and what he wanted, he made sure to get.

Hermione had hurriedly dressed and was now waiting for Harry to arrive. He practically flew through the Floo, looking at her frantically. She pointed him toward the bedroom, smiling at his excitement. She waited until she heard frantic exclamations from both men and smiled softly before leaving the house to Apparate to work. She wanted desperately to stay, but Harry had the week off anyway, and she'd only be in the way. She was at work before she knew it, a daze forming in her mind that consisted only of Sirius' soft tongue against her fingers.

The memory made her wet even before she'd entered her office.

The day went painfully slowly, especially when Hermione began to feel ill around lunchtime. Her stomach was twisting, and she had a massive headache. In addition to that, she had a general feeling of discomfort and malaise. She kept herself busy, Firecalling Harry on her lunch break to see how things were going. He'd answered, laughing harder than she'd seen him do in years. He'd told her he and Sirius were playing cards, and she heard Sirius in the background exclaiming his disgust at his alleged defrauding at Harry's hands.

When she heard his voice, her clenched stomach relaxed, and her headache abated slightly. When he poked his head into the hearth to tell her that she would get to play the champion when she was done breadwinning, her unease dissipated. She could not believe how Sirius seemed to be completely back to his old self and that he and Harry were carrying on like not a day had passed.

But after the rest of the day plus two hours of overtime, Hermione was nearly dead with fatigue and melancholy. She felt ready to throw up at any moment, and her skin was crawling. The scabbed-over scar on her chest was causing her extreme discomfort, and the red lines emanating from it were visibly throbbing. She reminded herself, not for the first time, to do something about that.

Hermione made error after error with her work and was wholly unable to concentrate by the end of the day. Her co-workers looked upon her with pity, but were also frustrated by her inability to get the job done, which in turn caused them all more work. Hermione was the last to leave when she finally wrapped up one final report.

She grabbed her purse and left the office. On the way out of the building, her stomach clenched so tightly she was sure it would wrench itself loose. She fell to her knees in agony and vomited on the carpet in front of her. Her body heaved as it expelled her lunch and dinner. She could barely stand, but somehow made it to her feet. She had intended to Apparate home but wouldn't dare to in her current condition. Regretfully leaving the vomit on the floor, she made her way to the Ministry Floos.

She gathered enough strength to call out her location in a clear voice and stumbled through the Floo, right into Sirius' arms on the other side.

Sirius had felt quite out of sorts during the day, but pushed the feeling away because he was so excited to be with Harry. Harry had chattered at him all day, unable to contain himself. Sirius had asked him to keep his return a secret just a little while longer. He still felt very odd and was beyond worried that the Veil would snatch him back as quickly as he'd been returned.

Toward the end of Hermione's work day, he'd felt positively deathly. Harry was worried about his health and wanted to call Pomfrey, but Sirius assured him it was just too much excitement. He'd gone down for a nap in Hermione's room, and Harry insisted on staying with him on the cot. Harry fell asleep almost immediately, like a child after a day at the zoo. Sirius remained awake, scared of the pain he felt, and unable to remain still. He had been constantly scratching and rubbing his arms and chest, feeling like a drug addict in withdrawal.

Suddenly, he'd had the unquenchable urge to go to the Floo. He knew Hermione would be through it any minute, and though his mind was confused, his body informed him she was the only way to stave off the discomfort. No sooner than he stepped before the fireplace did Hermione careen through, looking like death itself. He managed to catch her as she fell.

Immediately, their mutual sickness quelled. Her stomach settled, and her headache disappeared. His flesh stopped itching, and he felt completely normal. They both gasped at the immediate relief, but once the discomfort was gone, they drew sharp breaths for a different reason.

They both felt the sensation of rightness in the other's embrace. Sirius wrapped his strong arms around the frail witch, drawing her into his strength. She melted into him like it was the most natural thing to do.

Their hands roamed all over each other's bodies, touching as much skin as possible without being indecent, before Sirius grabbed Hermione's hair and forced her to look up at him. His hands on her skin were hot, and he felt fevered, but somehow healthier than ever. He looked into her whiskey eyes and saw only invitation.

When he bent his head to devour her plump and trembling lips, they heard Harry's sleepy voice from the hallway.

"Is that Hermione? Sirius, you owe me a rematch for the last game, and then Hermione plays the winner."

When Harry entered the room, the confused pair had sprung apart, Hermione looking guilty and flushed; Sirius looking slightly annoyed and completely determined.