Chapter 17

Sirius let Hermione guide him up to bed. He'd sobered up a bit after their little tiff...but he was still waiting on that list of people who'd seen her nude...and now he was enjoying the attention.

Spending the day with Harry had been a blast. The boy (man, he reminded himself) was so funny and clever, and just an all-around amazing kid (adult! ). Sirius was so grateful that he had grown up right despite everything working against him. He'd even spoken to Sirius about wanting kids, and Sirius couldn't hold back his grin. It had been so long since he'd held a little baby....

Sirius pounced on Hermione the moment they stepped into the bedroom. He groaned when his hands came into contact with her smooth skin, and he undressed her rapidly to get more of that feeling.

"Sirius," she laughed. "What's the hurry?" She sounded breathless, and he crowed internally to cause an immediate reaction in her like she did in him.

"I can't wait. I've wanted you all day," he answered honestly, pushing her onto the bed and watching her bounce lightly, fire shining in her eyes. He undressed just as quickly and crawled up her petite figure.

"I've wanted you, too. I'm glad you're not as drunk as I thought you were," she admitted, running her hands over his heated skin, causing an immediate reaction in his groin.

"Not drunk at all, love. I'll prove it to you," he promised, and did so, kissing her with deft precision, parting her lips and drawing her tongue into his own mouth, where he was sure the spicy taste of Firewhisky still resided.

Hermione moaned, pulling away to bite and suck at his lower lip, causing him to growl and move his mouth to her neck. For someone inexperienced as she, she knew exactly how to demand a reaction. He licked the slightly salty skin of her neck, sucking the flesh into his mouth and worrying it with his teeth, purposefully marking his territory. Hot and no swimsuits, indeed!

Hermione's hips rolled, desperate for contact, and he settled between her slightly parted thighs. He wanted her now, but he could wait. It seemed that she didn't agree, because her body was grinding against his in an insistent motion, and he groaned when her damp pussy slid against his straining cock.

"'Mione, need you now," he gritted out, all his effort going toward keeping his hips still.

"Want you, too. Fuck me, Sirius."

He couldn't have held back if he'd had the notion to. Each of her words was like a new jolt into his arousal: her desire, her dirty words, his name.

He brought one of her thighs up to rest against his hip and slowly slid into her. Her tightness was shocking, as before, and he recalled images of McGonagall to stave off his orgasm. She was so wet, so ready for him. He hadn't even touched her, and she was dripping. It was intoxicating.

Her head sank farther into the pillows, and she urged him to move with her hips. He obliged, slowing pulling out and sheathing himself again, quickly. She met his every thrust with her own. Her kisses were made of fire and sweetness, and he gorged himself on them.

Before long, his almost lazy plunges turned into an impassioned pounding, her entire body shaking with the force of his thrusts, and little grunts escaping him as he indulged his desire to completely master her body.

His orgasm was impending, and by the look on her face and the tenseness of her body, he knew hers wasn't far behind. A few flicks to her clit brought her off quickly, and she cried out, shutting her eyes, face blissfully beatific. The clenching of her inner walls made it nearly impossible to thrust, but he tried, coming after three final strokes. He could feel his muscles straining as he ground into her pliant body, filling her and barely holding himself up.

He managed to roll off of her before his arms gave out, pulling her body against his and inhaling her sweet, warm scent.

"Beautiful," he whispered, and she smiled before they both fell asleep.

The next day, Hermione brought up the topic she'd been thinking about for some time. She was sitting at the kitchen table with Sirius, drinking tea after they'd finished breakfast. They were both up quite early after having gone to bed early the night before, and she had some time before she had to leave for work.

Brushing crumbs off her black suit jacket, Hermione broached the subject. "When do you think you'll let everyone know you're alive?"

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Actually, I was thinking about that yesterday. I really want to meet little Teddy, and it would be good to see my cousin Andromeda again. We have a lot in common."

"That's a wonderful idea, Sirius. Teddy will be so lucky to have you around."

He smiled. "I can't believe there's a little Lupin out there. I heard he's a Metamorph like his mother."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, and he's quite bright as well. He looks just... he looks like his father."

Sirius' face split into a wide grin. "Gods, I hope so. I miss him."

Hermione leaned over to kiss him a quick kiss, which he immediately tried to turn into a long one. She pulled back, shaking her head and smiling.

"And what about the rest of the world?"

"I don't know...maybe I should just take a stroll down Diagon Alley and wait for the fallout. It would be easier than spreading the word person by person."

Hermione considered that. It actually wasn't a bad idea, for all that it was a joke. "Honestly, that might be something to think about. You should tell the important people first, like the Weasleys. They all cared for you very much. And maybe you could talk to Draco? He is your family."

Sirius frowned. "I've never even spoken to the boy, and I'm not sure I want to. From what Harry's said..."

"Yes, but Harry hates Snape as well, and he is a hero."

Sirius glowered. "Draco can find out with the rest of them. I doubt he will even care. Will you come for the inaugural Diagon Alley stroll with me?"

"I think it would be better if Harry went with you, Sirius. It will make sure people know it's really you. And I think he would really like it. He might be feeling left out because of our... association."

He leered at her, saying, "Association? Hermione, my dear, how... platonic you make it sound."

She reddened, saying, "Yes, well. In any case, it's ultimately up to you. I just think Harry would be the better choice, the first time."

He said thoughtfully, "I think you're right. Harry it is, then."

"Good. So, I suppose I won't need to come home during my lunch break, now that it appears the bond has... been satisfied."

He smiled softly. "No, you don't have to come home," he said, brushing his fingers over her hand. "But you could."

Hermione blushed. "I have fallen behind in my work, lately. I probably should try to use the time to catch up." He pulled his hand away from hers and she missed the warmth.

"Do you think the bond has been destroyed, Hermione? I haven't felt anything since the first night we were together. Not even a twinge."

"Neither have I. I can't really say. The bond was mysterious in the first place, but it doesn't really make sense that it would let us off the hook so easily, does it? I just don't know."

Hermione tried to meet his eyes. She really did. She never saw herself as the type who couldn't meet another's gaze, for any reason. But she was afraid that if she looked at him, he would see right through. She had enough tells as it was; she didn't need her eyes broadcasting for her. She was afraid, plain and simple. She didn't want the bond... but she wanted the choice.

But what did he want?

"I guess we have to wait and see, then. But, whatever happens, I want you to know..." Sirius chuckled nervously. When she did raise her face to meet his eyes, he was the one looking away. "I want you to know I am so grateful that you brought me back. It doesn't feel like I was really gone, to me... but I know it must have, to Harry. To you. So, thank you. For the second chance."

He took her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin and holding her too tightly for real comfort, but she still wished he would never let go.

She hated to be the first to speak. "I have to go to work, now."

"I'll miss you," he whispered, kissing her hair and then her lips. She let herself fall into the kiss, his lips soft and slow against hers. He seemed to be in no hurry, and the steady seduction was almost, almost as good as the ravenous fire that usually burned between them. Just as she parted her lips to admit him, he pulled away. He smoothed a finger over her softly swollen lips and smiled.

Hermione arrived at work in a bit of a daze.

Sirius decided that the next day would be perfect for his initial outing into the real world. He'd owled Harry, and the young man had responded with excitement. Sirius suspected his godson was eager to be seen in public, possibly for the first time in his life. Though Harry did hate publicity, Sirius knew he was excited to no longer have to hide the secret of his return, especially from Ronald.

Sirius also suspected Ginny was having just as much, if not more, difficulty keeping it between the few people who knew.

In order to tell the Weasleys, Harry had asked them all to meet him at Grimmauld Place for dinner. They were due to arrive around the time Hermione got home. He didn't know how much Hermione wanted to tell them about their relationship, but he had absolutely no intention of hiding it from anyone.

For the first time, Sirius had something he wanted and was allowed to keep...he wasn't going to hide it away for all the world.

And for the next day, Sirius and Harry were planning a relaxing little jaunt down Diagon Alley, during the busiest time of day, with plenty of stops planned along the way. He hoped that most people would get their surprise and mistrust out of the way, because he didn't relish spending the rest of his days explaining himself.

As to that, he hadn't decided exactly how to explain his miraculous return. He hoped he could just claim ignorance and say that he just came back one day, no rhyme or reason. He didn't know how amenable the public would be to that, but being Harry Potter's godfather did have its benefits; in the world to which he'd returned, Harry's word was gold.

Hopefully the Prophet would pick up the story and by the end of the weekend, everyone would know he was alive and well. And probably owing about five years in taxes to the Ministry, the bloody vultures.

Sirius decided to get the dinner started, knowing that Hermione would hate to cook for so many people on such short notice after working all day...but that, despite hating it, she would do it with no complaints. Not obvious ones, anyway...like he would make...but ones that would get him into trouble later, and he saw no reason to go through that.

He stared forlornly at the pile of ingredients on the counter. They made no sense to him without some sort of recipe. He knew he could cook, but he couldn't make anything he didn't already know how to make. And no one was there to show him how to make roast beef or some other suitable meal fit for a large number of guests.

He sat at the kitchen table, contemplating his options. He could order food, Muggle or Wizard. Muggle food might be a hit with Arthur Weasley... but Hermione might not approve because hosts and hostesses were supposed to actually cook...or, at least, that was what he had been taught. He had no idea what she might think.

In a fit of frustration, Sirius cried out, "Kreacher!"

And to both their immense shock, the impossibly gnarled old house elf was standing before him, eyes widened and mouth working soundlessly.

"Master! You is returned! Kreacher was told you was dead and Kreacher was free. Now Kreacher sees it is all a trick!"

Sirius gaped, uncomprehending that his house elf was still alive, let alone still indentured.

"Well, the rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated." Waiting for recognition in those glaring eyes would be a lesson in futility, so he hurried on. "However, I am back now, and you still work for the House of Black. Are you... capable?" He felt little concern for the old curmudgeon, but he did worry about finding elf pieces in his dinner.

"Of course Kreacher is capable, " he spat, looking mutinous. "Kreacher is, of course, honoured to serve the blood-traitor again."

"Good," Sirius grinned, not quite believing his luck. "Here are the rules. Do whatever I say, and don't let anyone know you're here. Got that? Not the lady who lives here with me, not anyone."

Kreacher nodded, looking at the pile of haphazard materials on the counter. "I is understanding. Is you wanting Kreacher to make dinner from that?" Disdain dripped from his voice, but Sirius knew the elf wouldn't actually harm him. Despite his dubious allegiances, the house elf was loyal to him... just a little vocal.

"And whatever else you can find. I need a dinner for..." Sirius counted in his head. "Eight people. Possibly more if they bring guests."

Kreacher immediately got to work, throwing out some of the 'ingredients' and getting more from the pantry and fridge.

Sirius suspected it was wrong to hide Kreacher's existence from Hermione, but he'd grown up with a house elf and wasn't used to doing everything for himself. It would be nice...for both of them...to be able to relax a little. Kreacher could cook and clean while Hermione was at work. Sirius would... find a hobby or something, and she'd be none the wiser.

For the dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were expected to come, as well as Harry, Ginny, Ron and George. He'd heard about the death of Fred from Hermione, and he wondered how George was coping. He himself knew all too much about loss, and he made a mental note to make sure the boy was all right. Man, he mentally corrected himself.

Everyone had gained five years except him.

Harry and Ginny arrived even before Hermione. He poured wine for the three of them, grateful that Kreacher had finished with dinner only moments before. The table was set, and dinner was waiting under warming charms for the rest of the guests to arrive.

"Sirius, you did all this yourself?" Ginny's voice was surprised, though she tried to mask it.

"What, you don't think an old dog can learn new tricks?" Sirius skilfully avoided answering, and Harry looked at him calculatingly before smiling widely.

"If any dog could, it'd be you," Harry joked, and they all laughed. Sirius never failed to be surprised and grateful at how easily he'd moved back into comfort with his godson. He'd expected many angst-ridden weeks of turmoil and uncertainty, but Harry had accepted his return wholeheartedly, and now it was as though no time at all had passed. Sirius was thankful for the normalcy, illusion or not.

The Floo sounded, and Sirius heard numerous voices in the other room. He nervously straightened his clothing before flashing a cocky grin at Harry, who returned it, obviously excited.

"Showtime," Harry smirked, and Sirius couldn't help but feel eager. He did so love to shock people.

Harry and Ginny stepped first into the room that was brimful of Weasleys, greeting everyone and smiling mysteriously. Sirius waited just outside the room for this cue, whatever that might be.

"I have a surprise for you all!" Harry announced, and Sirius almost snorted. His godson had no flare for the dramatic. If it had been him, he would have built it up to near-bursting levels of anticipation and teasing.

Taking his cue, Sirius rounded the corner and entered the living room. All eyes moved from Harry to Sirius, and a veritable hush fell. Molly gasped and immediately began making choking noises, and the boys were all stunned into silence. Ginny and Harry only grinned madly.

Arthur was the first to speak. "Could it be? Sirius Black? Is that really you?"

Sirius grinned, spreading his hands wide, palms up. "In the flesh."

Molly came at him so fast he hardly had time to brace himself for the assault. She hugged him tightly to her, forcing him to bend to meet the hug. Despite the animosity between them, Molly had known Sirius had only wanted the best for Harry, and she must have felt that losing him had hurt the boy more than just about anything else in the world at that point.

"I can't believe it, I just can't! How? Where were...? Who...?"

Sirius laughingly interrupted her jolted questions. "The truth is, even I'm not entirely sure of the details. One day, I was just... back. And I'm in perfect health, it seems." Not the entire truth, but not exactly a lie. He met his godson's eyes and Harry nodded in understanding. He didn't want his friend judged or maybe even arrested for the magic she'd used. That part of the equation would stay a secret until they knew more about the situation. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Weasleys; it was just that it was too big a secret to allow out just yet.

Ron stepped forward next, first shaking his hand and then pulling him into an awkward hug. The boy had grown so much over the years he'd missed. He was so much taller and broader than before. George followed, a solemn but searching look on his face. Sirius immediately knew what he was thinking, but he only shook his head in negation. Wherever Sirius had been, it wasn't the same place as where Fred was. Sometimes, there was no coming back. George nodded imperceptibly, a haunted look coming into his wide eyes.

"Welcome back," George said to him after they'd hugged. Sirius smiled his thanks. He was glad to be back and glad to have a reception such as this. He'd expected to be hexed or have them ask him questions that only the real Sirius would know. He suspected that Harry's acceptance precluded all that; if Harry believed it, it must be true.

Arthur gave him a hearty handshake, a wide smile on the man's face. "So, where have you been, then?" he asked quietly, but everyone heard him anyway, and the rest of the family turned from hugging Harry to hear his answer.

"We don't really know. Somewhere... else. Where nothing happens and nothing changes. I'm the exact same age as I was when I went into the Veil. And I didn't even have a day's growth of beard when I came out, five years later. I have no recollection of the time in between."

"We believe he was in stasis, a sort of suspended animation," Hermione's clear voice announced from the doorway.

All eyes turned to her, but Sirius didn't care, since his eyes were the first upon her and the only ones that had a right to look at her. He was in front of her in two long strides, gathering her into his arms and tilting her backwards into a dip. He saw surprise and possibly a little bit of anger in her face before he leaned in for a long and very thorough kiss. He ignored the gasps and shocked exclamations of the Weasleys as his tongue probed her mouth. She seemed hesitant to admit him, but he was persistent. A part of him heard Harry's simple explanation that they were 'together now,' but mostly he focused all his attentions on the charmingly squirming woman in his embrace. She could struggle all she wanted, but her lips and tongue were responding, and Sirius always believed everything that came out of her mouth.

After what probably felt like an eternity, Sirius pulled Hermione upright and let her go. The glare that greeted him did nothing to subtract from the perfection of the kiss, and Sirius grinned unapologetically.

Hermione was still the focus of a number of stares, but his witch was nothing if not brave. Taking the Weasleys by the horns, she pre-empted what promised to be a very long and irritating discussion.

"Yes, Sirius and I are together. No, it did not begin before his return. No, he has not Confunded or Imperiused me, nor I him. Yes, we are happy together."

Sirius nodded firmly, adding nothing but his support, manifested in a firm grasp on her hand and a light squeeze.

The witnesses to their kiss were all a little shocked. Mrs. Weasley in particular looked disturbed, and Ron looked rather green around the gills himself. They seemed to accept Hermione's declaration, however; or more likely, they were saving their questions for Harry and Ginny, once out of the earshot of Hermione and Sirius.

The Weasleys et al eventually left in a mass exodus, leaving Grimmauld Place rather sedate in their absence. Harry and Ginny left with them, with Harry promising to return the next day for their little outing. Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, but he suspected there was too much for which she was annoyed at him for her to choose only one thing.

He smiled cheekily at her and ran upstairs to get ready for bed. He was thankful, but not entirely surprised, that she soon followed him and all seemed to be forgiven.

Or at least put on hold.