The Ultimate Harry Potter Shipping Community

Don't Tell Me

2012-02-17T03:19:46Z

Title: Don't Tell Me
Word Count: 867
Rating: 15
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks (Remus/Tonks)
Synopsis: Tonks wouldn't admit that the romance was dead.
Link: He was a damn idiot.

Suggest a Pairing

2009-05-22T16:30:42Z

If you would like to suggest a pairing for discussion, please read the following information then reply to this post. You are, of course, allowed to post about a pairing at any time, but if you wish for someone to write an essay and open the way to a deeper discussion you may request so here.

Please think carefully about the pairing/threesome/moresome you would like to see discussed. If we find we have a backlog of suggestions this function may be suspended at any time.
The pairing can be popular or rare. Sometimes the rarepairs are more fun. I would be fascinated to know what the attraction is to Umbridge/McGonagall, for instance.
There is no guarantee that your pairing will be chosen for an essay, although we will try our best to accommodate all requests.

Please copy and paste the form below into a comment.

Write an Essay

2009-05-22T16:18:54Z

If you would like to write a monthly pairing essay, please read the following information then reply to this post.

Essays must focus on one specific pairing, threesome or moresome. Rarepairs are fine.
Minimum word count is 500 words (see, it's low-pressure!), maximum is 2000 words.
The pairing does not have to be your OTP - if you wish to write about why you don't understand the attraction to a certain pairing, that's fine (as long as there's no wank!).
As above, no wank allowed. Any essays submitted with character-bashing, flaming, or bigotry of any kind will be returned for editing, and will not be posted if the problem cannot be resolved. You will also attract the contempt of the mods, who are usually very nice people. Be respectful in your opinions.
If you wish to write a formally-structured essay, go ahead. However, if you would rather write 600 casual words, that's fine too. The only standard is that it must be coherent. It is preferred if the work is beta-read.
An essay will be posted on the first day of every month. Please submit your essay to hpultimateship@gmail.com at least one week before the posting date.

Please copy and paste the form below into a comment. The mods will get back to you ASAP with confirmation of your posting date and deadline. Happy writing! : )

Questions/Suggestions/Concerns

2009-05-22T10:25:49Z

This is the questions, suggestions and concerns post for this community. If there is anything you would like to ask the mods, please comment to this post rather than contacting us directly.

All comments will be screened.

hp_ultimateship @ 2009-05-20T23:59:00

2009-05-20T16:07:51Z

View Poll: HP_Ultimateship: Where do we go from here?

New Maintainer, New Plans, New Look...

2009-05-20T15:50:48Z

Hi all! *waves*

I've just adopted this community via hp_adoptme, as vegetasbubble no longer has the time to maintain it, so lovetheillusionand I will be running it together. I was attracted to it by the idea of discussing relationships in Harry Potter fanfiction. As a result, we would like to steer the comm in this direction, rather than accommodating fic posts. It would be much appreciated if you could read about our plans for the community and then take the time to fill in the following questionnaire.

Read about the community.

Questionnaire.

Note: Many of the links on the site are not yet working, because we're still organising! It will all be sorted as soon as possible.

Fanfic Update: Amicus Draconis

2008-05-19T15:15:23Z

Updated with Part 5c: In the conclusion of the chapter we’ll finally get to the bottom of the Death Eaters’ power play. Who hired Adrian Pucey to kill Marcus Flint’s girlfriend and for what reason? And in the end, who will gain the profit from this devious little endeavour?

Title: Amicus Draconis – 1st Cycle: Cycle of the Badger
Author: yamato__ishida
Disclaimer: Not mine, but JKR’s
Rating: PG-13
Characters: The Trio, The Malfoys, many Hogwarts students, and Death Eaters
Ships Ron/Hermione, Harry/?, Marcus/OC, and others
Warnings: character deaths, het, slash, angst, some violence
Summary: In the Trio’s seventh year, the wizarding world has lost its second war against the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters conquered Hogwarts, defeated the Order of the Phoenix and overthrew the Ministry of Magic. Forming a new government with Voldemort as the supreme ruler, they take control of Wizarding Europe, spreading terror and destruction everywhere. Harry and his friends are forced into hiding, but far from giving up hope they form their own secret rebellion. In four cycles, Amicus Draconis tells the story of a world shattered and rebuilt throughout three wizarding wars, of two masterminds moving people like figures on a chessboard, and a boy torn between his destiny and his one true love.

Starter Page & Episode List
Episode 1: Children of Magic
Episode 2: Encounter at Hogwarts
Episode 3: The Underwater Quidditch Game /Part A/ /Part B/
Episode 4: Offers and Offerings /Part A/ /Part B/
Episode 5: Owl SMS /Part A/ /Part B/ /Part C/

hey!

2008-05-08T04:56:38Z

pphpficexchange is hosting the fist ever Harry/Pansy fic exchange, Under The Ascian Sun. We will be including fanfiction and fanart, and it will be your choice which you will create/receive. You must be 18+ to join; You do not have to be a member to participate. Sign-ups are currently in progress. See this post for further details.

Thanks for your time!
Payton, Lylian, and Floo.

Constant Vigilance - T - Alastor/Hermione - OneShot

2008-04-16T05:22:01Z

Title: Constant Vigilance
Rating: T
Relationship: Alastor/Hermione
Music: Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: Very few knew why Alastor Moody was so adamant on constant vigilance. It was a sorrowful lesson learned.

( Read more... )

Harry/Pansy shipping community

2008-04-15T11:40:38Z

Hey Guys,

Okay, so, the other night while perusing the internet looking for a good Pansy/Harry fic, I became annoyingly, infuriatingly, frustratingly EXASPERATED with the lack of orginasation in this ship. As well as the lack of activity in the small, few, sparse communities I did find.

(Not to say there aren’t ANY great H/P communities. Not to say that at all.)

So, I’ve created unimaginableluv

In short, this is the place to go for all things Harry/Pansy. Notify the fandom of your fic updates, be updated on your favourites, post graphics, rec your personal favourites … anything your heart desires.

Also, we will be having what I think may be the first real Harry/Pansy fic-exchange, very, very shortly. Eventually, this will become the main focus of the community. So if you’d be interested in writing a fic based on a prompt and receiving one of your own, join now and sign up when it launches.

Mine - NC17 - Marcus/Hermione - OneShot

2008-04-11T20:56:08Z

Title: Mine
Genre: Romance
Relationship: Marcus/Hermione
Music: I’ll Attack – 30 Second to Mars
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: He was sick and tired of every bloke that ever crossed their path thinking they had a chance with her.

( Read More... )

While You Were Gone - T - Fred/Hermione - Chapter Four

2008-03-17T22:59:24Z

Title: While You Were Gone
Author: atruwriter
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Pairing: Fred/Hermione, George/Alicia, Harry/OC, Ron/OC
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Friendship/Humor/Family/Drama
Summary: When Ron and Harry can't assimilate to life after Voldemort, they decide to leave for awhile to find themselves. In the wake of their disappearance, Hermione is lost on her own, only to be found by two of the most unlikely people. Friendship, love, and loyalty were built to a strong degree, but years later, when her former best mates return, life becomes an emotional mess.

( Read Chapter Four... )

New Comm; Gossip Witch. Open Now for members!

2008-03-15T01:34:04Z

Welcome to the World of gossipwitch a community brining you the gossip of todays rich and famous, the glamorous and the not so glamorous.
Who's wearing what? Who's dating who? Who's doing what? Its something that everyone wants to get in on. And who am I? Just your friendly cyber Gossip queen, brining you the latest scoppt on all our fav people.
You Know you love me.

xoxo
Gossip Witch

Unlocking the World, 017/?

2008-03-06T21:45:29Z

Title: Unlocking the World

Author: lazalot_anreads

Beta: dracovontrapp

Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry

Challenge: B-Day fic for gurliemoviegeek, who requested dancing and sex

Summary: Draco is drawn to Harry for reasons he can’t explain. When Harry confronts him, they unlock a prophecy written hundreds of years ago by the founders themselves.

Notes: WIP, AU 4^th Year, Young Lovin’

Unlocking the World, chapter list

Chapter 017

“How?!” Harry all but yelled, terror slamming into him. “Why?!”

“Calm yourself,” Snape said sharply, eyes glued to Draco, who had lowered his head and was shaking it slowly. “Draco?”

“Father,” Draco replied quietly, “I’m going to have to fight him, aren’t I?”

“Yes.” Snape sounded sad. Harry touched Draco’s shoulder a bit uncertainly, and the blond started a bit but didn’t pull away, so the brunet let his hand trail lower and rubbed the other boy’s back. A soft purring sound filled the room and Harry was surprised, though not as much as he might have been were in not for the book he’d been reading, to realize it was coming from him. Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry but continued, “Unfortunately, the ritual requires the blood of an enemy, and I’m sure you both know who the Dark Lord’s favorite enemy is.”

“We have to let it happen, don’t we?” Harry asked, gaze fixed on the fire because he didn’t want to see the pity in his professor’s eyes anymore. “The way the prophecy is written – and we know it’s about us, we all know it – means we have to let the war happen. But … what if we didn’t?”

“I’m not sure I want to know.” Draco looked at him and he couldn’t help but look back. Draco had tears running down his cheeks but the look in the blond’s eye was more determined than anything else. “We studied prophecies in History of Magic, remember?” Of course Harry didn’t, having most likely been asleep at the time, and Draco blew his breath out in an irritated sigh. “It would just change, Potter, you can’t escape a true prophecy. You can try, like you’re suggesting, but according to Professor Binns, it would only result in nasty side-effects.”

“Oh.” Harry sighed, wishing once more that his friends could be there with him like they’d always been in the past. He needed the support. “What if Voldemort decides to kill me once he’s alive again? I don’t want …” he trailed off, but the unspoken words hung in the air. Harry didn’t want to die.

“It won’t happen!” Snape’s tone was positively fierce, and Harry looked at him, startled out of his own self-pity. “The Dark Lord will be much too weak after the ritual to do anything but run like the coward he really is. Unfortunately, I reported everything to Dumbledore already, and he’s the real threat. He plans to show himself as soon as the ritual has been completed, surprise the Dark Lord, and ‘rescue you’,” he sneered, “once he’s had the honor of vanquishing the most powerful Dark wizard the world has ever seen.”

“Well, then,” Harry was shaking with rage, but he had more important things to focus on at the moment, “that won’t do, will it?”

“No, it won’t,” Snape agreed, “which is why I advised him against it. Not that he’ll listen to me, of course. He’s as hungry for power as any Slytherin has ever been, and he won’t let such an opportunity pass him by. I didn’t, however, tell him that the Inner Circle has made a portkey out of the Dark Lord’s robes that will take him to safety as soon as the ritual is complete.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, curious. “At the time you didn’t know anything about the prophecy, did you? So why wouldn’t you have told the headmaster about the Portkey?”

“I just found out about it this morning, actually,” Snape replied, touching the disgusting tattoo on the inside of his left arm self-consciously. “I was also given a Portkey I’m supposed to give to you in two week’s time, on Halloween night, that will take you to the ritual site. I did tell Dumbledore about that, and he instructed me to follow through with it.”

“Bastard,” Draco growled, “he doesn’t give a damn about Harry, does he?”

“But you do?” Harry turned to his former enemy. The look of pure fury on the blond’s face was all the answer he needed, and Harry kissed him gently before turning back to the professor. “So, then, we have two weeks to come up with a plan. Professor, you may dislike them, but my friends would stand by us, and Ron’s an excellent strategist. Hermione is smart, too, you know she is. You know they could help us.”

“Yes,” Snape agreed mildly. “But are you quite sure they won’t go running to Dumbledore if we show them the prophecy? Are you quite sure you want to drag your friends into something we know next to nothing about? Are you quite sure, Harry?”

“I am,” Harry said firmly. “Ron and Hermione have stood by me through everything since our first year, and they’ll stand by me through this. They’ll stand by all of us, if the two of you will let them in. Ron may be a bit difficult, at first, but if you treat him right he’ll do the same for you. Hermione … well, she’s not nearly as intimidated by either of you as I know you’d like to believe. You just have to trust me, both of you. So?”

‘Draco is probably going to have a fit,’ Harry thought, so he was stunned when Draco suddenly said, “I agree. About Granger, I mean, I’m not too sure about the Weasel … Father told me that every member of the Weasley family was a joke, a black mark on Wizarding society. Now that I think about it, I know that what Father is doing is going to destroy the entire Wizarding world, though, so what does that matter? It’s so strange, the way I think about Father and what he’s done and is doing now. I’ve never spoken about it with other people, I’ve just believed every d-damn lie the – the bastard t-told me.”

Harry’s first instinct to this announcement was to end the conversation, now, and he followed it. “I think it’s time Draco and I get a few hours rest – then we’ll do the potion, okay?” he said firmly. “I need to be alone with my mate.”

“Of course,” Snape said, after a pause. “I’ve things to do, as well.”

Harry fairly dragged him to their suite, hugging him tightly as soon as the door had closed. He didn’t say anything, and neither did Draco. What could you say, really, when your world was turned completely upside-down? Harry led Draco to the bed and they stripped, climbing under the covers of the huge bed before curling into each other again. Draco held onto Harry tightly and buried his face into the brunet’s neck, breathing harshly.

“It’s okay, baby,” Harry whispered, stroking Draco’s hair soothingly. He was startled when Draco hooked his leg over Harry’s legs and pushed his hard cock against the brunet’s soft one, which reacted immediately. Harry decided sex would be a good distraction, so he rolled on top of the other boy, eating the blond’s mouth and grinding his erection into Draco’s. “Yeah, baby, I’ve got you.”

“Harry,” Draco groaned against his mouth, bucking his hips and spreading his legs to let the brunet settle between them. “Oh … I want … oh, Harry!” He bucked and writhed as Harry slid down his body and engulfed his cock in a single move, gripping and tugging at fistfuls of black hair in a way that made the boy sucking him absolutely mad with lust. “Oh! I want, stop, I want you to – Harry!”

Harry just hummed contentedly as he swallowed the blond boy’s cum and licked it away from the corners of his mouth before crawling up to kiss his mate sweetly. “Feel better?” His voice was hoarse from deep-throating – not that he knew that was what he’d been doing – the blond’s long, slender cock. His own erection ached, but he just snuggled into Draco’s side and stroked the blond’s soft hair, pretending not to hear the little sniffles that let him know his mate was crying.</div>

Away for long, but back.

2008-03-01T05:17:40Z

Hey guys. Sorry I haven't had a chance to post here recently, but I've been busy.

What I'm after today is someone to help run the community. Let me know okay?

Unlocking the World, 014/?

2008-02-22T18:55:53Z

Title: Unlocking the World

Author: lazalot_anreads

Beta: dracovontrapp

Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry

Challenge: B-Day fic for gurliemoviegeek, who requested dancing and sex

Summary: Draco is drawn to Harry for reasons he can’t explain. When Harry confronts him, they unlock a prophecy written hundreds of years ago by the founders themselves.

Notes: WIP, AU 4^th Year, Young Lovin’

Unlocking the World, chapter list

Chapter 014

By the time Harry met up with Draco and Snape in the professor’s private quarters, he was too exhausted to do anything but sit in the nearest chair and groan. He’d been dodging Ron and Hermione all day, unable to come up with a decent excuse for having disappeared the entire night – without leaving a note, as Ron had pointed out before he managed to escape his dorm room.

“Harry?” Draco rubbed the back of his neck gently, and Harry sighed as his tension eased bit by bit. “Severus thinks he may have found something.”

“Really?” Harry’s head jerked up and Draco’s fingers fell away, sliding across his neck to rest on his shoulder. “What? What did you find out?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Draco said dryly. Harry heard the impatience in his lover’s voice and reached up to rest his hand over the blond’s, squeezing gently.

“I’m not entirely certain this pertains to you at all.” Snape took the chair across from Harry and Draco, looking like he’d gone a few rounds with Voldemort. The expression on his face was one of intense concern, and while Harry had discovered within the past two days that his professor was most definitely not the cold-hearted bastard he’d originally thought, he hadn’t been quite ready to admit that Snape actually cared, either. Looking at him now, however, he found himself likewise unable to deny it.

“Sir?” He prompted a bit shakily after a moment. Draco’s hand tightened almost painfully on his shoulder as the castle itself seemed to hold its breath. Harry was suddenly very sure that what his professor had to say had quite a bit to do with them, actually, and wished quite madly for a moment that he was back in his cupboard under the stairs with the old familiar worries of life as a ten-year-old ‘freak’.

“Last night, I had a dream,” Snape began, “or what I suspect may have been a premonition.” Harry was momentarily distracted by the red tint to his professor’s cheeks, and resisted the urge to laugh. ‘Big bad Severus Snape, blushing. Ron would never believe me.’ He wondered what Snape must have foresaw that would make him look like that.

In light of his amusement, Harry was not at all prepared for his professor’s next words. “In it I had what I have come to believe a very real and very serious conversation with the Four Founders. The conversation was about a prophecy concerning, I’m afraid, the two of you. This morning I found the same prophecy in an extremely old and rare Dark Arts text.”

“Dark Arts!” Harry stood up, angry and more than a little bewildered. “Illegal magic! Why would you be reading something like that, anyway, huh?”

“Sit down now, Mr. Potter,” Snape practically snarled at him. Harry obeyed, but crossed his arms in defiance and stared his professor down. The brunet had never met a man more complicated than Severus Snape, and he hoped he never did. He tapped his foot, impatient, and turned his glare up a notch. There was a hint of something that might have been regret in Snape’s eyes when he continued.

“You’ve much to learn, Mr. Potter,” he said, his tone somewhat sad. “The Dark Arts are a powerful tool for all Wizards and Witches, and they are not bad. Magic is magic; only a soul can be Dark.”

Harry had absolutely nothing to say to that, so he just nodded. For the moment he would just listen. Contrary to popular belief, Harry was neither naïve nor trusting, not after being raised by the Dursleys. What the man said made a lot of sense, and Harry was too smart not to listen.

“In truth, it was only after Salazar Slytherin lost his mind and began using magic to hurt and kill Muggles that there was any such thing as the ‘Dark Arts’. That was just the Ministry’s way of trying to take control.” Snape shook his head, obviously disgusted. Harry nodded again. He didn’t know what else to do; once again, someone was flipping his world around, and once again, all the brunet could do was hang on for the ride.

“In any case, the prophecy is rather complicated, and I’ve yet to do more than guess at its full meaning. Listen:

Many years from now, on the very spot I stand

Three shall come together, to save our precious land

The Hand shall guide the Lovers, leading them to peace

The Bond shall be created, thrice by magic’s tease

Power the world knows not, they’ll set it all to rights

They’ll prepare each other with Secrets, meeting most late nights

The day when Dark meets Light, the Three shall stand aside

In the crash will many die, only the Chosen will remain alive

I have reason to believe I am the Hand, and that the two of you are the Lovers. This particular prophecy was written by the Founders together exactly three hundred years ago, and it has been considered a myth by many for most of that time. Now, however, I believe we’ve proven them wrong.” Snape sat back, his eyes flicking to the side as a blush rose in his cheeks again. “In my dream, the Founders showed me the two of you when you first met in Madam Malkin’s, when you next met in the Room of Requirement, and when you third met … in my guest room this morning.”

</div>

While You Were Gone - T - Fred/Hermione - Chapter Three

2008-02-21T00:01:47Z

Title: While You Were Gone
Author: atruwriter
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Pairing: Fred/Hermione, Harry/OC, Ron/OC
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Friendship/Humor/Family/Drama
Summary: When Ron and Harry can't assimilate to life after Voldemort, they decide to leave for awhile to find themselves. In the wake of their disappearance, Hermione is lost on her own, only to be found by two of the most unlikely people. Friendship, love, and loyalty were built to a strong degree, but years later, when her former best mates return, life becomes an emotional mess.

Previously: Prologue, Interlude One, Interlude Two, Interlude Three, Chapter One, Chapter Two,

Chapter Three

Theo Says - T - Theo/Hermione - OneShot - Complete!

2008-02-18T08:28:26Z

Title: Theo Says
Author: atruwriter
Words: 6,109
Genre: Romance/Drama
Relationship: Theodore/Hermione
Music: We Belong Together – Mariah Carey
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: He was known as a man of few words, but he couldn’t keep quiet this time.

Giant thanks goes to Danielle for being the greatest beta alive!

Banner made by: horizonblvd of The Dark Arts

Made by: Tarafina

Theo Says
by: atruwriter

1/1

Theodore Nott sat anxiously in his bedroom, bare of the majority of his clothes, save for a pair of boxers and one very unfortunate looking sock. Today was the day. The sad, dismal, utterly unforgiving day that she would marry someone who was not him. Two months ago he’d made a fatal mistake and now she was walking up the aisle to marry a giant git of a man even more unworthy of her than him. He ran a hand over his face, pushing his hair back, uncaring of the likely awful mess he’d just made. He took another swig of his nearly empty bottle of Firewhiskey, wincing at it burned down his throat and stared gloomily out his bedroom window. The day was far too bright to suit his mood. He felt like crawling in a hole and simply withering away. But then, a wedding was being thrown somewhere and they likely thought the weather was perfect.

He rubbed at the furrow of his brow; it was beginning to ache. He’d been awake all night, wondering what he was thinking eight weeks prior. If he hadn’t been so stupid, he’d be the one standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for her to meet him, marry him. But he wasn’t. Because he was… him. A man raised not to show emotion, weakness, love. He sighed, eyes closing tight as he remembered the fateful night for the millionth time.

Two years she’d been with him. Two years she’d put up with the lack of “I love you’s” in return. He a Slytherin and she a Gryffindor, it was a sour match to begin with, but somehow they made it work. Her friends weren’t entirely happy with her choice in boyfriend, but as long as she stuck with him, he could care less what Potter and Weasley thought. They met at a Ministry thrown benefit where he was adamantly avoiding the crowd by standing in dim areas drinking his glass of champagne while she was politely answering all questions thrown her way and stopping to talk to the many different employees vying for her attention. When she finally got a breather, she escaped and found herself standing next to him. She struck up a conversation, quickly finding out he wasn’t much of a talker, but somehow that only spurred her to try harder. Anybody else and Theo would’ve simply walked away, but she was rather amusing when she got huffy over the fact that she wasn’t getting the reaction she was used to. Eventually he gave in and started talking to her. It wasn’t until she begged him to dance with her so she wouldn’t have to put up with another conversation with a man quite similar to Slughorn that he found his interest in her was a little more than just in amusement.

Her robes were soft beneath his hands and while her hair was a crazy mess of curls, it was oddly soft too. She wasn’t the most attractive woman he’d ever met, but there was something about her. She wasn’t brainless, but quite intelligent (almost overly so). She was very comfortable, something he was sure she picked up from being around so many males in her life. And while she was surprised he was a Slytherin, she didn’t hold it against him. She proudly stated she was a Gryffindor and then the topic was dropped. They ended up spending the rest of the night dancing, with her doing most of the talking, and by the end of the benefit, he was actually smiling, a rare thing in itself. She asked him out for lunch the next afternoon and he accepted, although he thought she was just striking up a friendship with him. Lunch came and went, along with various other dinners, and then it wasn’t so friendly. He found himself reaching for her hand and she had a tendency for touching his arm when she wanted his attention, rather than just calling his name. There were hundreds of small intimate brushes of hands and fingers that told them both they wanted more and one night things just progressed. Progressed into a two year relationship that he ruined.

He didn’t say “I love you,” to her. Not once. He’d grown up in a family that didn’t say it to him and made sure he knew that it wasn’t accepted to say such things. He’d learned early not to talk much at all. He was naturally known as a quiet guy. He didn’t say things unless he felt like they needed to be said. She was a chatterbox, however. But she didn’t try and force him to talk more; she just filled in the silence. They had their separate flats, but she spent most of her time at his place. His parents weren’t accepting of the idea that he was dating a muggleborn witch, still spewing their Pureblood supremacy even after the defeat of Voldemort. But he’d long moved out of their house and bought his own flat in Diagon Alley.

Hermione was laid stomach down on his bed, wearing nothing but a sheet around her hips. Theo was propped up on one arm beside her, half-smiling as she dozed next to him. He trailed his hand down her back, watching as gooseflesh spread out before him. Her back rose abruptly and he knew she was waking up. His mouth quirked as he traced random shapes across her skin while she yawned and shifted around at his touch. Her hair was a mess of tangled curls, looking bushier than usual from their late night tumble in the bed. He watched as she stretched out across the bed, her toes reaching for the end and missing by at least a foot; she was really quite short. Her fingers spread out as she turned her arms upward from the pillow and reached toward the ceiling. Her fingers were ink stained and her nails were always filed short. She had small, delicate hands though, which he reached for with one of his own large hands to wrap around hers, fingers threading. He could practically feel her smile as her fingers wound with his.

He shuffled down the bed a little before leaning in and pressing a kiss at the small of her back. He could feel her skin reacting to the warmth of his mouth. He laid small, lingering kisses all along her hips and up her sides, across her shoulders and down her spine. The ends of his hair barely brushed her skin with each stroke of his lips, but she shivered each time. He slid her hair out of the way as he made his way back up to her neck, kissing the back of it while massaging one of her shoulders as she melted into him.

“Theo says,” she murmured, her voice so quiet he could barely hear her.

“Roll over,” he said against her neck, deep and thick with arousal.

She shifted beneath him before turning onto her back, staring up at him through hooded, brown eyes. Her mouth was quirked with a small smirk. “Theo says…” she trailed off, lifting a brow.

Hovering above her, he grinned. “Spread your legs.”

Her legs fell apart slowly, teasingly. He lifted the sheet and slid between her thighs, his stomach pressing against hers. His head ducked, mouth wrapping around the rosy center of her breast. She arched into him, whimpering. One of her hands found his hair, fingers holding tight to the dark brown strands. His hands trailed up and down her sides, thumbs stroking her. One of his hands found her ignored breast and cupped it, thumb drawing circles over her skin. Her body writhed beneath his, holding nothing back in reply to the tremors running through her body.

He kissed his way up her chest, pausing at her throat to suckle, nip and mark her as his own. When his mouth hovered just a hair’s breath from hers, she whispered, “Theo says…”

“Kiss me,” he replied, closing the small space to capture her mouth. She listened well to direction, always had. Her tongue dueled for dominance while her lips slanted and caressed his possessively. Their noses brushed, teeth grazed over lips, tongues tasted every inch. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, fingers digging in to hold him close. Her hips rotated, bringing her warmth up against him.

He groaned into her mouth, nipping her bottom lip. She laughed, low and husky, her eyes opening to stare up at him.

He ran the back of his hand down her cheek before he kissed away from her mouth and down her neck once more, trailing across her shoulder tenderly. His mouth slid down the slope of her arm, stopping to kiss a cluster of freckles near her wrist, when she shocked him into stillness. “Theo loves?”

Nearly their entire relationship they’d been playing their game of “Simon Says,” revamped and she’d never used that one. He knew where it was coming from. Two years they’d been together and she deserved to hear the words he never said. He felt them and he thought she knew but saying them was a whole other deal. Like the idiot he was, he panicked.

He pulled back from her as soon as the shock wore off, sitting up between her legs and running a hand over his stomach. “Food. I’m really, uh, hungry. Are you? I could make something to eat,” he suggested, pointing his thumb back at the door. “Eggs, maybe? Toast? You want sausages? I’m not bad in the kitchen,” he babbled.

Hermione stared up at him with unreadable expression before her head began nodding slowly, but it wasn’t in response to his question. She sat up, her legs leaving his sides and he immediately felt the loss of warmth from it. “Right,” she said quietly before she was getting out of the bed and gathering up her clothes.

He winced. “Mione,” he murmured sorrowfully.

“Don’t bother,” she replied, pulling her knickers on. “You know, I thought maybe all you needed was time. That… That after awhile it would grow on you. That I would grow on you. But I haven’t. I’m just… I’m always just going to be… here… with you… like this. And- And I can’t do it anymore, Theo.” She sighed, lifting a hand to her brow and covering her eyes. “I love you. I have for nearly two years now. I- I want more than just this. I- I want to be loved and… And you can’t love me.”

He felt his chest clench tightly. The words were so close, just caught in his throat. His mouth opened and closed but no words escaped him.

She nodded, pushing her hair behind her shoulders and wiping a few stray tears away.

He cringed. He hated it when she cried. He’d tried so hard to never make it come to that. She was his first and only love. He’d dated before her but they’d never been as important to him as her. He was twenty-five years old and he’d only ever loved once and she was leaving him because she didn’t think he could love her. What kind of rot was that?

She pulled her pants on and began searching for her shirt. “I wasn’t even trying to get you to really say it, you know? All you had to say was- was… You. All you had to say was ‘you.’ I just needed to know if… If you really…” She was breathing thickly as she threw her hair up in a messy ponytail. She hadn’t found her shirt and so she pulled one of his on, her bra lying forgotten somewhere as well. It looked too big on her, practically swamping around her tiny frame. Her hands found her hips and her face became determined. “I can’t do this anymore. It hurts too much.” She stared at him, waiting for him to say something, anything.

“Mione,” he choked out, shaking his head. He cursed his parents in that moment, hoped they knew how they’d ruined their son’s life.

“I’m sorry, Theo,” she said brokenly. “I just… You know why, don’t you?”

He swallowed tightly. “You deserve to be loved,” he replied, his voice sounding hollow as his eyes turned away.

“I do,” she whispered before she was gone. And she wasn’t coming back.

Barely a week later, she accepted Matthew Conner’s invite to lunch and they’d been going together since. Theo knew she didn’t love him and had no doubts that Matthew was nowhere near in love with Hermione. That didn’t stop him from proposing, however. Six weeks and he asks her to marry him and for some reason she actually said yes. The least she could do was find a good man, someone who really would cherish her, and maybe then he wouldn’t feel like he forced her into marrying some philanderer worse than Adrian Pucey at a Quidditch groupie party. Matthew Conner was so far from being the perfect husband type it wasn’t even funny. He was well known for sleeping with every woman with legs and was so obsessed with getting more publicity in his career it was obvious he was only marrying Hermione to make more of a name for himself. Theo was biased, of course, but he gave the guy a chance. When he ran into them in Diagon Alley, he’d been civil.

It was the first time he’d been out since his break up with Hermione a week prior, besides flooing to work. He was only going to get groceries and then it was back home to wallow. Of course, fate was not on his side and as he turned the corner he walked straight into his ex, who just happened to be holding hands with a bloke who was now scowling viciously at him. Apparently, he’d knocked his tea out of his hands and all over him.

“Sorry,” Theo said, admittedly not as apologetic as he could be.

“Do you have any idea how much this coat cost me?” the man bellowed.

Theo simply blinked at him.

The man appraised his attire and lifted a brow. “No. I don’t think you do.”

“Matthew,” Hermione chastised, looking embarrassed.

Sighing, the man turned to her and his expression softened to something quite fake. “Sorry dear.”

Dear? Theo clenched his jaw to keep from showing any visual reaction to the endearment. One week and she was already with somebody else.

“This is Theo,” Hermione said, lifting a hand to introduce him. “Theo this is Matth—“

“Matthew Conner,” he interrupted, lifting a hand for him to shake. “So you’re the ex boyfriend mentioned?”

Theo glanced at the hand and then stuck his own in his pockets. He knew it was childish but he didn’t really care.

Hermione looked uncomfortable. “So… How have you been?” she asked, eyes darting back and forth.

Theo stared at her a moment. She looked just the same, if not less happy; hair still a disarray of bushy curls, still a handful of inches shorter than him, always in a hurry. He almost smiled. “Fine,” he replied stiffly. “You?”

She looked up at him, eyes catching and holding just long enough for him to see that she was still hurting. “Fine,” she replied with a short nod.

“Mione, dear, we should be going,” Matthew said, impatiently.

Theo stiffened. Nobody called her Mione but him. Not even Potter and Weasley.

“Matthew,” Hermione said, her tone rather cold. “Please don’t call me that.”

Matthew looked annoyed that she’d called him out on it. “Hermione,” he said with a hint of mocking, “We really must go.”

She simply nodded. “It was nice seeing you again.”

So polite, he thought. “Goodbye,” he replied quietly.

She stared at him with sad eyes for a moment before she was dragged away by someone who was supposed to love her. He watched her go before turning away; hating that he was the cause of it all. She could’ve been happy, could’ve been with him rather than some arrogant git. But she wasn’t and he’d have to accept that.

Still, Matthew wasn’t right for her. She deserved much better. He’d learned all about the guy after he found out she was dating him. He had at least three other girls on the side while he was dating Hermione and hadn’t stopped dating them after he proposed. They were having a quick wedding, barely any preparation and he knew that it was because they both just wanted it over with. Matthew wanted the fame; Hermione wanted someone to love her. Except he did, he just couldn’t tell her that.

Her friends and family had been writing him since the wedding was set, trying to find out what was going on. They asked him to change her mind, to talk her out of it, to do something and he always wrote back that there was nothing he could do. He’d spent two years trying to say it and failed, nothing was going to change now. Two months he’d been without her and she’d apparently found what she was looking for in Matthew Conner. Didn’t make it hurt any less. He’d spent the last day and a half doing nothing but laying around wallowing in pity. His father would be completely disappointed in him. While the Nott’s didn’t show emotion, they weren’t known for being cowards either.

His father had been a Death Eater and while his beliefs were wrong, he still stood up for them. He couldn’t remember his mom very well; she’d been killed when he was younger. He remembered how she looked when she died. She didn’t scream. Just let the fire consume her. His step-mother had always been a hard woman who didn’t take disappointment well. When he’d had nightmares about his mother, his step- mum’s way of dealing with them was to tell him to stop being such a baby and go back to sleep. She’d ranted for nearly an hour about his disgrace on the family for even looking at Hermione and he’d let her. But in the end, he stayed with Hermione and he ignored the family that scorned him for it.

Opening his eyes, Theo looked to the side to check the time. Nearly noon. She’d be walking up the aisle by now, dressed in white and holding a bouquet of flowers. Probably daffodils, they were her favorite. His jaw clenched and he threw his bottle at the clock, delighted at the sound of it crashing and breaking. He couldn’t believe everything had changed so much in just two months. He’d had it all and he just… He lost it. In one unforgiving second where he had a choice to make, he’d made the wrong one. He should’ve chosen her but he didn’t. Maybe he hadn’t thought she’d turn around and leave him; that she’d just forgive him that moment just one more time. But she didn’t and she shouldn’t have to.

She’d told him she loved him when she felt it; whispered it to him as they lay exhausted in bed together. Kissed it into his skin, put it in his hand every time she took his. She made sure he knew that she felt it when he was happy or sad; when they were fighting, when they weren’t. He never doubted her feelings for him. She didn’t even have to say it; he could just feel it from her. When she hugged him or smiled at him or simply looked at him. It was there. That day when she was with Matthew, he saw it then too; in her eyes, still so sad and lost. He just assumed that she could see it and feel it too. Despite the lack of words, it was there. In every touch from him to her, every caress of his lips and every quirk of his mouth. He only smiled for her. He’d been a loner who didn’t need anyone else until she stepped into his dim corner and made him see that he could have at least one other person and happily have only her for the rest of his life.

He had a headache. From thinking or drinking, he wasn’t sure. Maybe just missing her. Everything felt so much emptier now. He hadn’t realized how lonely his life was until she wasn’t in it. He’d never really needed anybody else. He’d stayed out of the Slytherin gangs in Hogwarts and as he grew up he didn’t go looking for friends. He kept to himself mostly and he never really felt like he was lonely. He’d been used to the lack of people around. But then she was there all the time and he learned to like how she filled the silences with her brilliant speculations and whatever she was reading. He grew to like having her in his home; cooking in his kitchen, showering in his bathroom, reading in his living room, and sleeping in his bed. But now that she wasn’t there, it seemed like everything was quiet and lonely and it was driving him mental.

Was this what his life was going to be like now? Quiet and lonely for the rest of his days? The thought was jarring.

He sat up and moved to the side of his bed. He couldn’t do this; couldn’t be this guy. He wanted her back. Needed her back. Her voice in his ear when he was trying to sleep and her body sleeping next to his when he wanted her to be awake. He wanted her hand in his when he walked through Diagon Alley and her head on his shoulder as she read.

It happened in a blur. He found a pair of pants, that he didn’t think were quite clean, and drug them on. He found a shirt, yanked it on and then searched for his shoes, only finding one, which was unfortunately for the foot without the sock. He found his wand on the bedside table, next to a picture of the two of them that he hadn’t had the courage to turn over. She looked so pretty, so free, sitting in his lap, her head thrown back on his shoulder, smiling warmly at him. His arms were wrapped around her waist and his head was turned toward her. There was a small smile on his lips; the one that just couldn’t be hidden when he was around her. She made him feel in ways that he’d never thought he would.

He apparated out of his flat with a loud pop and appeared at the bottom of the stairs leading to the church. He ran up them, ignoring the way his socked foot seemed to find every rock in the vicinity. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, could feel the blood rushing through him. His legs burned with a lack of use as he rushed up the stairs and threw the doors open. He ignored the voice calling for him to stop and explain himself. It was awkward running with only one shoe, but he kept going. His lungs were burning and a fear that he was too late was at his heels. He could see the tall double doors leading to the wedding ahead. There was a board announcing the nuptials to the left that he glared at as he rushed by and accidentally kicked over. He came to a stumbling halt at the doors and yanked them open, screaming at the top of his lungs, “STOP!”

Everybody in the room turned to him and for a moment he considered turning around and running away. He wasn’t used to attention and this was more than a little unnerving. But then he saw her, standing at the front, dressed in a vision of white. He knew he looked a mess, but he walked forward anyway. The door closed behind him with a loud bang. The room was packed with people; the Weasleys and Potter up front, next to her parents. All of which were staring at him like he’d just shown up with a cure for some bizarre illness. He took a deep breath, feeling like everybody was waiting for him to say something inspirational and he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

“This is a private wedding,” Matthew shouted, sounding perturbed. “Will somebody please escort him out?”

Mrs. Weasley shushed him, waving a hand at him to shut up.

Theo might’ve laughed if it were any other situation.

“Well, say something boy,” somebody from the crowd called out.

Hermione’s hands dropped from holding Matthew’s and she turned to look at him. “Theo, what are you doing here?”

He felt his heart thudding heavily in his chest, ready to explode. “Don’t marry him,” he choked out.

“Theo,” she said quietly, shaking her head slightly, her brow furrowed.

He started walking toward her, well aware that he was slightly tilted because of his lack of shoe. “I know. I messed up. Two years and I… I should’ve said it.” He felt those same three words clog in his throat once more. “And you deserve to be loved. You deserve all of it. The wedding and the family and... and forever.” He sighed, his jaw clenching. “But you don’t deserve him. He… He doesn’t love you. If it was somebody else, somebody who could really love you and cherish you like you deserve then I wouldn’t be here because… Because I want that for you. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am,” she said, her voice shaking.

“You’re not,” he said, shaking his head abruptly. “I know how you look when you’re happy, Mione.” He lifted a hand, running it through his hair nervously. He was so close now he could almost reach out for her. He knew everybody was watching and he hated that something so private was being heard by so many, but it couldn’t wait. “When you’re happy your cheeks are flushed and your hair frizzes up even more, I swear. And your eyes turn a darker brown.” His feet brought him just a few inches away from her and his hand rose to cup her cheek. “And you laugh more, at things that aren’t even funny, because you’re just so… content.”

She shook her head slightly, her eyes filling with tears. She sniffled, trying to stiffen her posture. “You can’t just show up on my wedding day and tell me that I’m making a mistake, Theo. It doesn’t work that way.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his strength. “Tell me you love him and I will walk away,” he managed.

She bit her lip, staring at him with teary eyes. “I... I love… I love hi…” She closed her eyes tight, shaking her head. “Don’t do this to me, please.”

“I’m not doing it to you, I’m doing it for you,” he replied, his thumb brushing away a tear. “Pick me. Marry me.”

Her eyes opened, wide and shocked. “Theodore Nott, do you know what you’re asking?”

He smiled at her tone. “I’m asking you to walk away from a pompous arse and marry me instead.”

She stared at him a moment, searchingly, before she shook her head decisively. “I told you, I can’t… Not anymore.” Her hand lifted, wrapping around his wrist and dragging his hand down from her cheek.

He licked his lips and turned his hand to take hers. “Ask me again,” he told her, swallowing tightly.

“Theo…” she trailed off, looking afraid.

She didn’t want to be rejected again and his heart clenched with the fact that he made her feel that. “Ask me again,” he repeated, staring at her seriously.

She sniffled, her jaw quaking as she looked around, tears slipping from her eyes.

“Hermione?” Matthew called out impatiently.

She turned to her fiancé, her expression one of apology. They stared at each other for a long moment.

“You can’t be serious?” he asked, sounding disgusted. “For Merlin’s sake, Hermione. His shirt is inside out, he’s only wearing one shoe and I don’t think he’s bathed today!”

Theo scowled. “I was a little distracted!”

“Trying to steal my wife, yes I noticed!” Matthew yelled back.

“Last I checked, she didn’t say I do,” Theo replied, tone level. He paused, glancing at her. “You didn’t, did you?”

She chuckled through her tears before shaking her head.

Theo let out a breath of relief and then glared at Matthew.

“Hermione, this is ridiculous. What can he possibly offer you that I can’t?” Matthew wondered superiorly.

Her eyes fell for a moment before she turned back to Theo and took a deep breath. “Theo loves?”

Theo felt that familiar clog of words in his throat and swallowed. “You,” he forced out, past the fear. A weight fell from his shoulders and he smiled. “I love you.”

Twin tears fell down Hermione’s cheeks as she grinned widely, her eyes falling shut and a breath escaping her. “I love you, too.”

Theo tugged on her hand and leaned forward, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. After two months, it felt like coming home. Her arms wrapped tight around his neck while his looped around her waist, pulling her forward until she was lifted from the ground and held up against his chest. He could hear clapping in the background which he assumed were the Weasley’s and her friends and family. While they might not have liked him, they obviously liked Matthew even less. He was running out of air quickly but he ignored it to keep kissing her. She was warm and sweet and there was something so comforting about having her again. That void that had consumed him since she left was filled once more. The quiet was no longer silent. The cold that followed him was now warm.

He set her back down on her feet and sucked in air to fill his burning lungs. He wiped her cheeks free of tears as she smiled up at him. “Took you long enough,” she murmured.

He laughed, nodding.

She took his hand and lifted up the bottom of her dress, nodding toward the door. “I really want to get out of this.”

Smirking, he glanced back at Matthew before beginning to run down the aisle with her.

“Hermione Granger, you’re making a huge mistake!” Matthew Conner shouted after her.

Laughing, she glanced back. “Actually, I’m rectifying one, you pompous arse!”

As they ran out the front and down the steps, Theo side-along apparated them back to his flat, where they fell back onto his bed. He barely paid attention to her fingers at his shirt, trying to figure out what to do with it being inside out. He helped her sit up and his fingers, though shaking, undid the buttons at the back of her dress, drawing it down her shoulders until it pooled around her hips. “When we get married, I vote you wear far less fabric,” he told her quietly, kissing the curve of her neck.

Her hands stilled on his shirt. “You meant it then?”

He lifted his head, nuzzling her nose with his. “Every word.”

She bit her lip, staring into his eyes for a moment. “Theo says?”

“Marry me?” he asked, softly.

She smiled. “Of course.”

Grinning, he leaned her back on the bed, pushing the rest of her dress down her thighs to lie on the floor, forgotten. His mouth slanted over hers, tongues tangling. She rolled them over, the warmth of her skin meeting his as his shirt parted. Her lace encased breasts brushed against his chest while the heat of her thighs pressed against his sides as she wrapped her legs around him. Her hands found his, fingers entwining against the bedspread.

“Have you missed me?” she asked, nipping his bottom lip playfully.

“Never,” he replied, tipping his head to kiss her deeply.

She moaned lightly before dragging her mouth away. “Liar.”

He grinned, turning them over once more so she was laid out beneath him, her thick hair sprawled across the blanket. “Must be the Slytherin in me.”

She lifted a brow before rotating her hips. “Well I want the Slytherin in me,” she implied, smirking. “Two months, Theo? I’m disappointed. I had you pegged for far less.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll make it up to you.”

She kissed his chin. “You better.”

His hands trailed down from hers and slid beneath her back, flicking the clasp of her bra open. “Have I ever disappointed before?” he asked, kissing down her chest slow and teasing.

“No,” she breathed, eyes fluttering as his lips caressed her skin.

“You want to play a game?” he asked her, kissing down the valley of her breasts and across the expanse of her ribs to her navel.

“What kind of game?” she whispered, her hands sliding through his hair.

“A twist on Simon Says,” he told her, nuzzling her stomach with his nose.

Her thighs squeezed his sides. “How long does it last?”

He lifted his head, his mouth quirking on one side. “Forever, give or take a lifetime.”

“What are the rules?”

He lifted up to his knees and hovered above her, mouth just a few inches from hers. “Most of the time, we make them up as we go along. But one can’t be broken.”

“What’s that?” she queried softly, teeth pressing into her bottom lip.

He pushed a tendril of her hair from her face, fingers tracing the soft curve of her cheek. “There’s only one answer to ‘Theo loves?’”

“And it is?”

“You,” he breathed.

He kissed her, hard and deep, whispering that he loved her with every caress of his lips, and he never stopped. Not a year later when they were married in the backyard of the Burrow. Not two years later when their daughter Cherish Nott was born. Not a year and a half after when their twins Holli and Natalie greeted the world. Or when three years after them, they finally had their son Reese to complete their family. Not three and a half years later when they celebrated their tenth anniversary or fifteen years after that for their twenty fifth anniversary. He never stopped when their kids went to Hogwarts, graduated, married, and had children of their own. Not when their fiftieth anniversary came and went. Not when their grandchildren went to Hogwarts or when another Wizarding war began. When a witch strong enough to rival Voldemort rose and threatened their world with annihilation. Older and far less able on the battle field, they still stood side-by-side against adversity. He simply never stopped.

And when she was 163 years old, she laid down in their bed beside him and took his hand like she always did. As the sun dimmed outside their home of over 130 years, she turned and smiled at him. Her face had far more wrinkles now but her smile was the same and her eyes were that dark shade of brown that told him she’d been happy all these years. And she asked him, in her voice that he’d long fell in love with for filling the silences of his life, “Theo loves?”

“You,” he replied, just as he always had.

And she nodded as if she’d never doubted it. “Theo says?”

“It’s okay to sleep now, Mione,” he replied, holding tight to her soft, delicate hand in his own. He swallowed tightly. It was time, of course. He’d known all week.

“Will you go to sleep with me, Theo?” she wondered quietly, tiredly.

“Of course, love.”

She nodded, again as if she knew what his answer would be and didn’t really need for him to say it.

And she turned on her side, taking his hand with her and he slid up behind her, his arms wrapping around her lightly. She sighed contently and he smiled against her shoulder; that same smile that she always got out of him without even trying. And they fell asleep, never to wake again. Mr. and Mrs. Nott, a couple who made it through two different wars, the adversity of blood purity, various ups and downs with their children, and, of course, a moment where they nearly lost one another at the tender age of twenty-five. But they stuck through it together and they never let go. Theo’s smile didn’t die through the night, but instead stuck close to him as he held his dear wife until her last breath was taken and expelled his own. They played their game until the very end, never once breaking the only rule.

End

A/N Hope you like this! My sister is trying to send me the next chapter to "While You Were Gone," so fingers crossed that will work. This is my first Theo/Hermione, the plot just sort of came to me and it all just fell in place. I was originally working on a Marcus/Hermione, so that's likely the next oneshot coming out.

Thanks for reading! Please review; it's greatly appreciated!
Much Love,
-Amanda

My God

2008-02-16T23:42:24Z

Title: My God

Author: Lazalot_Anreads

Beta: dracovontrapp

Word Count: 2,365

Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry

Challenge: B-Day fic for _beetle_, who requested a 7^th Year AU with little war focus

Summary: In which Harry and Draco suck, fuck, and plan the future.

Notes: AU 7^th Year

Harry hates dancing, and he doesn’t have a date anyway, so at the first opportunity, he sneaks out of the Great Hall and heads toward the Quidditch pitch. ‘Bloody Valentine’s Day,’ he thinks, still pissed off that everyone who had asked him to be their date had been looking at his scar. He thinks it shouldn’t be so important now that Voldemort is dead, but if anything, the Wizarding world annoys him about it more.

He is not expecting to find Draco Malfoy lying on his back in the grass, staring up at the stars with a slightly dreamy look in his eyes, but he is not surprised. Malfoy notices him immediately, and he tenses and sneers up at the brunet.

“I hate you, Potter,” he says with a cheeky grin, and pats the ground next to him.

“Ditto, Malfoy.” Harry sits cross-legged on the grass with a relieved sigh. They often spend moments together like this one, quietly contemplating the universe, content just with the company. Harry thinks about the time, mostly, and change. He’s never asked what Draco thinks about, knowing the blond will tell him if he decides he wants to.

Tonight, however, Harry isn’t content with silence.

“I bloody hate Valentine’s Day,” he says sullenly, watching Draco out of the corner of his eye. “Where is Parkinson, anyway? Isn’t she supposed to be your date?”

Draco snorts, obviously amused. “She’s shagging Hannah Abbott in the Slytherin common room. I walked in on them, it was rather hilarious, actually.”

Harry, who is decidedly gay, says, “Ugh.”

“You are so unrefined, Potter.” Draco sits up next to him, brushing against his shoulder. “Honestly.”

“You know it!” Harry grins, leaning a little closer to Draco. Draco arches an eyebrow disdainfully and shrugs, letting his hand come to rest on the middle of Harry’s thigh in an obvious invitation.

Harry is surprised, but his cock surges and he licks his lips. ‘This is interesting.’ He rolls his hips a bit as he asks, “You want to fuck me, Malfoy?”

“Yes,” Draco admits, and the next thing Harry knows, they’re kissing.

It’s a rather tender kiss, not rough like Harry has always thought it would be, but he likes it, and groans deep in his throat as he pulls the other boy closer.

Their tongues dance together, slick and hot, dirty in a forbidden sort of way that makes Harry harder than he’s ever been. Draco is sex personified, tracing light circles high on the brunet’s denim-clad thigh and fucking Harry’s mouth with an incredibly wicked tongue.

“Anyone could see us,” Harry points out breathlessly between kisses. He rather likes the idea of being caught, though, so lets Draco push him down onto his back and straddle him. The blond breaks their kiss and sits up, his hands tugging at the bottom of Harry’s t-shirt until the other boy lifts up and raises his arms so they can be rid of it.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Draco asks knowingly, circling one of Harry’s taut nipples with a teasing finger. He grinds his arse against the brunet’s cock and smiles when Harry gasps and thrusts up against him in reaction. “What would you like me to do to you, Potter?”

Harry is having trouble keeping his breathing steady. Draco looks glorious above him, his skin and eyes glowing in the pale moonlight. He is a proud and devastatingly sexy creature, and Harry has never bottomed before, but he wants to now, tonight, for Draco.

“I want you to suck me,” he says, and his voice is low and not the least bit hesitant. “I want you to fuck me.”

Draco leers at him and runs his hands over Harry’s chest, palms brushing nipples and it’s all the brunet can do not to moan. He doesn’t want to look too eager, even though he’s been gagging for it since sixth year.

“I’d like that.” Draco smiles, leaning down to suck and lick at Harry’s throat. “I’ll bet you taste magnificent.” Harry groans and bucks underneath him, because that is undoubtedly the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. Draco Malfoy sincerely wants to suck his cock. Harry Potter sincerely wants his cock sucked.

They take their time undressing each other, enjoying the sensation of hands sliding tenderly along every new inch of skin. When they are naked together, Draco holds himself just short of covering Harry’s body with his own and whispers in his ear, “Tell me how much you want this.”

Harry shudders, reaching up to pull the blond down on top of his body. Their cocks touch and he groans. “I burn for you.” His voice is thick with sex and honesty. “I think about you all of the time. Every night when I wank, it’s to fantasies of you. You drive me mad, Malfoy.”

“I knew it.” Draco kisses his neck again, licks a long stripe from his collarbone to his ear. “You never could hide from me. I know all your secrets, Harry.” The blond makes his name sound like a sin, and Harry thinks idly that maybe it is. “I think about you, too, you know.”

“I know,” Harry says, and he does. He’s known this would happen between them since their truce began. “What do you think about most often?”

Draco leans up to kiss his lips, and Harry forgets all about his question until Draco looks him in the eye, rolls his hips, and says, “Sucking you.” They kiss again, wet and dirty, and Harry thinks maybe he could come from this alone, but he doesn’t want to. He pushes at Draco’s shoulders and the blond takes the hint, trailing that gorgeous mouth down Harry’s chest and stomach, fucking the brunet’s belly button with his tongue.

Harry gasps and arches up, knows Draco wants him to beg, but he won’t give in so easily. “Suck my dick, Malfoy.” His voice comes out commanding like he wants it to, and he props himself up on his elbows to stare at the sexy blond who has his mouth poised over Harry’s aching erection. “Suck it now.”

There’s a lusty glint in Draco’s eyes as he takes Harry’s cock in slowly, holding the brunet’s hips down so he can’t thrust. His mouth is warm and wet and his pouty lips look like they belong wrapped around Harry’s cock. He tells the blond as much, and Draco groans rather loudly around his dick. Harry makes a strange gasping noise and falls back, hands tangling in silky blond hair and tugging a little desperately. “More,” he chokes.

Draco stays steady, though, taking as much of Harry as he can before slowly sucking his way back up and licking at the pre-cum leaking from Harry’s slit. He does that same thing over and over again, until Harry is a mindless idiot babbling about Merlin only knows what. It’s too much, and he pulls Draco away by the hair. “I want to come on your face,” he says hoarsely, and Draco moans.

“Yes,” he hisses, pulling at Harry’s cock almost viciously. “Do it!” That’s it for Harry, and he barely finds the strength to raise his head to watch his seed splatter on his lover’s face. Draco catches some in his mouth, and he’s got to be the most erotic thing Harry’s ever seen in his life. The way he leans back and swallows so deliberately, licks his lips so slowly, is more than enough to get Harry hard again.

“Come here,” Harry whispers, reaching up to tug Draco down. He licks every drop of his cum off of the blond’s face, and the fierce sense of ownership he feels takes him by surprise. He likes it, though, likes knowing that the god kissing him so sweetly is his. That nobody else will ever touch or taste Draco like this, because Harry will kill anyone who tries.

Draco mutters a lubrication spell against his lips and Harry sighs and spreads his legs as wide as he can when the blond slips the first finger in. It isn’t nearly enough. “More,” he demands breathlessly, grinding his hips against the blond’s hand. “Now. I’m not gonna break, Malfoy.”

“You’re already broken.” Draco laughs as he teases Harry with his finger, pulling back to look Harry over appreciatively. “Why else would you be here?”

“Cock tease,” Harry whimpers as a second finger joins the first, thrusting a bit harder but pointedly ignoring his prostate. “You know why I’m here.”

“Yes. You want to be my Valentine.” Draco smirks, adding a third finger and curling them.

Harry starts to beg, then, writhing and twisting, arching up to take those wonderful fingers deeper. “More, harder,” he pants, “Merlin, Draco, please! I need your cock!”

Draco pulls his fingers out and lifts Harry’s hips, plunging inside in one smooth thrust. Harry’s arse burns, but the pain is good, and his lover is wild above him now, thrusting again and again, hitting the brunet’s sweet spot with every buck of his hips.

Harry watches the blond use his body for the Draco’s pleasure and he tugs at his own nipples, feeling completely free for the first time in his life. For once, he doesn’t have to be anywhere but where he is right now, beneath his god, letting Draco take the control for once. Harry’s never really been out of control, before, and he basks in the glory of it. He wishes the moment would last forever, but knows it can’t. It doesn’t matter, though, because this is the first time, but there will never be a last.

When Draco finally comes, Harry is right there with him, untouched cock covering his chest with semen while his lover fills him with his own seed. Both boys are flushed and panting with pleasure. When they kiss, Draco whispers into his mouth about how perfect this is, about how perfect they are. When the blond finally pulls out and flops onto his back next to Harry, the brunet sighs with disappointment. He wishes Draco could always be inside him, making him whole.

“I promise,” Draco whispers, once they’re dressed again and cuddling on the grass, “I will always take care of you.”

“I know, love,” Harry smiles against Draco’s chest, “and I you.”

“Strange, isn’t it?” Draco asks, pulling the brunet more closely to his side. “That years of fighting have led to this.”

It had begun in sixth year, their truce. All alone in the library, working on an essay for Potions, Draco and Harry had discovered that without an audience, they actually got on quite well. Not too long after that, Harry had found Draco crying in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and found out the truth.

Draco had been desperate for help by that point, and had said as much. He’d also said he only trusted Harry, and had made the brunet swear in blood to keep his secret before telling him everything that Harry had suspected from the beginning of that year. Harry, in turn, had told Draco absolutely everything he knew about Voldemort, the Prophecy, the Order, and anything else he could think of that had to do with the war – after Draco had sworn his secrecy in his own blood, of course.

They began to plan. Though Draco thought the headmaster nothing more than a manipulative old git, he didn’t truly want to kill him. They couldn’t get around it, though, and in the end, it was Harry who cast the Killing Curse while Draco cried and kept the door barricaded so there would be no witnesses. Harry didn’t cry until he ‘found’ Dumbledore’s body, and even then he had really been crying for Draco, who’d had to leave with the loyal Death Eaters and Snape to celebrate.

Harry had been made to wait the entire summer to find out if The Plan was still working, and he’d never been so relieved to see someone as he was to see Draco, waiting for him in the last compartment where they had decided they’d meet at the beginning of term if The Plan had worked and Draco had been allowed to finish school. Harry had been so happy to see the Slytherin, he’d kissed him right on the lips.

Harry laughs softly, thinking of the look Draco had given him afterwards. “Malfoy, everything we do is strange.”

“Yeah,” Draco agrees after a moment, brushing a kiss over his scar, “I suppose you’re right. A disloyal Death Eater and the hero of the Wizarding world, plotting to overthrow the Ministry of Magic. Do you have your list, yet?” He sits up and Harry follows him, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment out of his pocket. Draco pulls out his own list and they switch, reading silently.

As powerful as they are, they know others are needed if they truly want to change the Wizarding world, which they do. Harry has spent the last month working on his list of ‘recruits’, and he is ninety percent positive that the people he chose will be perfect for their cause. He is one hundred percent sure of Draco’s list, because his lover never does anything unless it’s perfect. He’s annoying that way.

“Parkinson? Really?” Harry laughs. “You sure she won’t be too busy with Hannah?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk!” Draco smirks at him. “Granger and Weasley, I get, but Longbottom? What the hell do we need him for?”

So they go on, alternately erasing and adding names, until they’re finished and each have a list of people to approach with their idea. They already have a location – Snape, who has been helping them almost since the beginning, has been made headmaster, and they’ve been working on the Chamber of Secrets ever since. It should be ready by the time they get their people together.

“You know,” Harry tells Draco, “I hate being famous just for being alive. After this, we’ll be famous for something we did.”

“Might not be the kind of fame you’re used to, Golden Boy.” Draco kisses him. “Not everyone is going to agree with us.”

“I know,” Harry agrees, smiling a bit sadly. “As long as we’ve got each other, though, right? We can do this.”

“Right.”

</div>

Obliviously Lucky - K - Lee/Hermione - OneShot - Complete

2008-02-09T22:24:39Z

Title: Obliviously Lucky
Genre: Romance
Relationship: Lee Jordan/Hermione
Music: Luxurious – Gwen Stefani
Rating: K
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: She had absolutely no idea just how bleeding lucky she was. (Hermione/Lee Jordan OneShot)

Banner made by: hedwidgeon of The Dark Arts!

Chapter image made by: Tarafina

Obliviously Lucky
By: atruwriter

1/1

Mariposa Dennard frowned to herself. There she went: Hermione Granger-Jordan – the luckiest woman alive. Mariposa had been working for the brilliant young witch for just six and a half months now and from what she could tell, Mrs. Granger-Jordan lived the most incredible life possible. She worked in the Ministry, a sure shoe-in for the first female Minister of Magic. Well paid, highly acclaimed, incredibly sought after and highly worthy of such praise. Friendly, if not a little strict when it came to work, smart (almost overly so), pretty (in a most natural way), loyal and kind hearted. She went out of her way to help others, even in the smallest of tasks and she made sure all of her co-workers, including secretary Mariposa, did not go unnoticed when praise was due.

Still, as wonderful a person Hermione was, Mariposa couldn’t help but be rather jealous. It seemed that her boss had all that Mariposa dreamt of having. Not only was she the most brilliant witch of the age (without contest), but she was best friends with Harry Potter himself. One of the most handsome and powerful wizards alive! Often, Mariposa couldn’t untwist her tongue to even get a greeting out to him whenever he dropped in to take Mrs. Granger-Jordan out for lunch or simply to pop in and say hello. He waved at her every time, smiling warmly before pointing to the door leading to Hermione’s office to make sure she wasn’t busy. And Mariposa would simply nod dumbly, unable to make herself say anything charming or flattering. She knew she must look like quite the dunderhead, but she was working on it. It wasn’t as though the Harry Potter would ever look her way anyway. He was happily married to Pansy Potter (nee Parkinson) and although the coupling seemed rather odd, the two had been together happily for nearly nine years.

Another of her best mates was Ron Weasley, only the best keeper on the Chudley Cannons the last seven years running, bringing the Cannons closer to a winning season every year. Handsome, if not a little bit on the less than brilliant side, friendly and very easy going, he was a little less of a shock for Mariposa to see every once in awhile. It seemed Hermione had one good looking bloke after the other coming to see her on a daily basis. Ron too was happily married to the rather odd Luna Lovegood-Weasley, with which he had three very adorable children. He had shown them to her in a five foot long photo strip he kept in his wallet. Blonde and red haired girls grinned out, some dazed, others hyper. Ron was quite proud of his three girls, all of which, he boasted to anyone who would listen, would become great Quidditch stars.

When it wasn’t her two best mates, there was always some other chap coming in to see her. The Weasley twins dropped in to get her opinion on a new product, or on occasion to prank her, usually ending rather badly for them. Fellow Ministry worker Blaise Zabini often picked her up for lunch or tea. Mariposa had always found it odd that a former Slytherin and Gryffindor could become close, but the two were good friends, having worked together in the Ministry for over a decade. Other such Slytherins were in and out of her office as well. The incredibly handsome Adrian Pucey popped in from time to time to flirt with Mrs. Granger-Jordan (like he did with most every female he met), usually for some kind of favor. Unlike every other female, however, Hermione never fell for his charm. Mariposa didn’t know how she did it. His crooked smirk, high cheek bones, full lips and chiseled frame would have had her doing just about anything he asked of her. Various others came and went, all more handsome than the last. Mariposa was fairly certain that Hermione must have simply become immune to her luck in handsome friends.

The rugged Charlie Weasley popped in often to talk to Hermione about creature rights and get her input on things over at the reserve. Mariposa was very certain that had Hermione not been married, Charlie would happily fill her heart. It was obvious the dragon keeper had taken quite a liking to her. But her marriage was very much stable and had been the last six years they’d been together. Her husband came to see her regularly and always picked Hermione up from work (in Mariposa’s opinion, just to be sure she wasn’t overexerting herself, as she had a tendency to do). While Hermione could be strict and rather work oriented, never too busy to read a book or talk politics, her husband was rather the opposite. Laid back and a bit of a prankster, he didn’t give much thought to rules or regulations. He took life as it came and from what Mariposa could tell, made sure that Hermione enjoyed life rather than avoided it.

He was at least a foot taller than his wife, broad shouldered, dark skinned, dread locked hair often pulled back in a leather strap, and a lopsided grin that could charm the pants off of just about anyone. From what Mariposa had learned, he and Hermione had met through George Weasley and rather surprisingly hit it off. She was just starting to work her way through the Ministry while he had his own station on the Wizard Wireless. One dinner led to another and before they knew it, they were engaged, married, and had a daughter. Jenessa Jordan was just three years old and one of the most adorable children Mariposa had ever met. With milk chocolate skin, bright brown eyes and a smile that resembled her fathers, she was nice and spoke quite clearly for such a tender age. She loved to be carried around, hated when people touched her rather thick hair, and had a puppy dog face that worked every time.

In fact, Mariposa noticed as she looked up from her paperwork, Jenessa was being carried in her father’s arms as they two walked across the floor to meet Hermione. Lee had a bit of a swagger to him, not quite out of arrogance but more of awareness. His mouth quirked up as Hermione came toward them, leaving her papers behind on a desk. Her thick hair was tossed behind her shoulder, hanging to her hips easily. She was dressed rather prim and professional in a tweed skirt, white blouse and flats. A small bump was visibly through her blouse, just barely. The only evidence of her being four months pregnant, of which she was quite tight lipped about. Being the well known war hero she was, the papers, namely Skeeter’s private owned rag, tended to keep the world up to date on the happenings of her life.

Lee reached out for her with his free hand; large, wide palm landing on her hip and dragging her forward. He didn’t hesitate to kiss her, despite Hermione’s usual discomfort with the displays of affection in the workplace. Seeing as it was only Mariposa left in the office, Hermione clearly wasn’t as uncomfortable as she usually was. She leaned into her husbands’ strong frame, her arms lifting to wrap lightly around his waist. Mariposa lifted a brow at the obvious heat at the couples mouths slanted across each others, Lee’s tongue twining with his wife’s.

Jenessa sat between them, waiting impatiently for her mother to pay attention to her.

“Just about ready to go?” Lee asked, lifting a brow as they parted. His voice was low and husky. Mariposa couldn’t help but wish she had a man with such a thick voice. Just hearing it from Lee made her shiver a little, much like, she noticed, his wife still did. She could understand entirely why he was the top radio host. That voice was intoxicating.

Hermione licked her lips, nodding. “Just need to put a few things away. I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Mum, you know what?” Jenessa asked excitedly.

“What?” Hermione queried, smiling lightly at her daughter.

“Uncle Harry said he’s gonna teach James how to fly soon and he said if you say so, daddy can come and we can all learn together! Rose is gonna be there too!” she told her, eyes widening with excitement.

Hermione frowned. “You’re only three.”

“’m almost four,” Jenessa half-whined, pouting.

“They’re child proof brooms,” Lee assured, shrugging slightly. “Won’t be able to get high enough to even bruise anything if she somehow manages to fall.”

Hermione’s eyes thinned, her hand falling to her stomach unconsciously. “If you think they’ll be safe…” she murmured uncertainly.

“They will be.” He nodded. “She’ll be a natural anyway. By next week, she’ll be doing the Wronski Feint and the pro’s will be calling to sign her up,” he said boastfully, watching his daughter light up with the entirely impossible dream.

“I’m gonna play for the Chudley Cannons!” Jenessa announced, grinning her two-teeth missing smile.

Lee chuckled, lifting a brow. “At least pick a winning team, Jellybean.”

“Uncle Ron says they’re the bestest team ever,” Jenessa countered, frowning.

“Uncle Ron is delusional,” he replied, rolling his eyes.

Laughing lightly, Hermione walked toward her office, shaking her head at the whole conversation.

His daughter looked quite perplexed. “Wha’s delusional mean, daddy?”

“Means he’s a dreamer. He wishes for things that will never happen!” He shook his head, walking forward to sit down on a desk.

“Uncle Ron says this is the year though. They’re gonna win and then they will be the bestest team!” Jenessa nodded for emphasis.

“He said that last year and the year before and every year before you were even born,” her father replied simply.

“Before I was born?” she asked, astonished.

He laughed, lifting a hand to push one of his loose dreads back from his face. “I’ll admit the Cannons have done better since your uncle joined the team but their losing streak is still pretty high. Why don’t you try out for Puddlemere United? You can play with your Uncle Ollie!”

Mariposa sighed dreamily. Oliver Wood. Another of Hermione’s many handsome guests. Completely charming with his Scottish brogue and downright sexy wide shoulders and toned frame. Entirely too obsessed with Quidditch, but Mariposa could learn to live with if he’d just turn his beautiful blue eyes her way.

“Uncle George says Uncle Ollie loves Quidditch soooo much he’d marry it if he could,” Jenessa said matter-of-factly. “And Uncle Fred says he must be using his broom for un- in- in-te-cent things,” she said, sounding rather confused.

“Indecent, and, er, don’t repeat things your Uncles Fred and George say… Especially ‘round your mother,” he told her, trying his best not to laugh.

“That’s what Uncle Harry told me too,” she told him, nodding. Her small feet started kicking back and forth and she leaned her head back against her dad’s shoulder, eyes looking around in boredom. “When is mummy going to bring my brother home?” she asked, sighing.

“Not for a few months yet,” Lee told her, grinning.

“So how come the other room’s already set up?” she asked, frowning.

“So we’re ready when he comes,” he said patiently.

“But it’s gonna be forever,” she moaned, her body going limp in his arms for emphasis.

He laughed, grinning. “I can’t make your brother arrive any faster, Jellybean.” He patted her stomach, tickling her with his long fingers and she giggled before forcing herself to look disgruntled once more.

“How come?” she whined, jutting her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Put it away,” he said, amused. “Your brother will be here in a few months.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the floor in a huff.

“You look just like your mother when she wants to stay home and read rather than go to a game with me.”

Jenessa stuck her tongue out at him in reply.

“Yeah, she’s done that a few times too,” he said with a laugh.

Since his daughter was now ignoring him, Lee glanced over at Mariposa who had been eavesdropping and ignoring her work.

“You still here Mar? Thought ‘Mione was the only one that stayed this late,” he teased, half-smiling at her.

Mariposa blushed. “Just need to finish up a little paperwork and then I’m off home.”

Lee nodded. “That’s what my wife says every night. If I let her get away with it every time, I’d barely see her.” There was no scorn or irritation in his voice, if anything he sounded fond of his mild-workaholic wife.

Mariposa inwardly sighed. Lee Jordan was really quite the catch. While he wasn’t famous like Harry or Ron, and he didn’t have a million-galleon business like the Weasley twins, and wasn’t a pro Quidditch star like Oliver Wood, no where near drop-dead sexy as Adrian, or even as ruggedly charming as Charlie Weasley, he had his own qualities that surely made him the type of guy many a witch would love to marry. He was quite handsome with his almond shaped eyes and full lips, his lean body and his friendly demeanor. Not to mention he was incredibly loving toward his wife. There was no doubt that the two were very happy together. Despite Skeeter’s constant gossip about the two having trouble, Mariposa hadn’t seen anything of the sort in the six months she’d been working for Hermione.

They had their tiffs; Lee was adamant that she work less while Hermione was sure that she needed to work more and harder. Plus the stress of them having another child had Hermione cranky and moody all the time, which Lee had obviously learned to handle since their first child, but Hermione appeared to be annoyed that he was handling it so well. Mariposa would’ve thought that two people who were so different in personality would have more problems, but they fit together quite well. Hermione always made time for him, taking days off to go to Quidditch games with him and never skipping her two weeks of vacation a year like it was rumored she did before she met Lee. And he didn’t seem put off by her sometimes overly bookish personality, instead adoring her for it.

Sometimes Lee showed up with a picnic basket and took her out for a private lunch. Whenever there were Ministry thrown galas, they went together, leaning on each other for support during the rather boring ritual. More than once, Mariposa had seen the two sneaking out of the festivities early, or snogging in a dark corner. She’d also seen them dancing on a balcony once, something so reminiscent of a fairytale that she couldn’t help but wonder if Hermione had any idea of how lucky she was. Surrounded by nice, interesting, good looking blokes for friends. A beautiful, loving family that treasured her. Intelligence beyond that of most, creative genius that outdid most every witch and wizard in the magical world, a reputation that proceeded her everywhere she went, and an almost certain bid for Minister of Magic, should she choose to run. How could she not know that she was simply blessed by the Gods?

Had she not known Hermione to be a good and honest witch, she might think that she’d somehow used magic to make the world bend to her will. But she knew it was just pure luck that Hermione should grow up to have so many wonderful things. Of course, she’d obviously worked at it. Apparently, she’d read nearly every book there was and was always on the look out for something new to read. She could recite Hogwarts: A History if asked. She’d been through one of the darkest wars there ever was and lived to tell the defeat of Voldemort by her best mate’s wand. She’d eagerly earned eleven OWL’s in Hogwarts, was a prefect and became Headgirl upon returning for her seventh year. She worked her way up through the Ministry rather than using her fame to get her an easy place and was well known for her efficiency.

Still, Mariposa couldn’t help but be jealous. She hadn’t earned Headgirl, though she was a prefect during her Hogwarts days. Her best mates were a couple of girls that she still kept in touch with, but like her hadn’t really done anything worthy of a book deal. Her most interesting day involved a Yule Ball and a handsome fellow Hufflepuff rather than the likely incredible adventures Hermione and her friends went on. She’d never faced any dark wizard, though she did believe Graham Goyle was a mean git that would have cursed her a dozen times over if professors hadn’t stepped in. She wasn’t likely to become Minsiter of Magic or anything close to it. She wasn’t entirely driven to become much more than a secretary. Her interest laid more with enjoying her youth than advancing her career as it was. She didn’t have famous ex-boyfriends like Viktor Krum or Ron Weasley. And she certainly didn’t have a husband or even a current boyfriend that rivaled the likes of Lee Jordan. Simply put, she was nothing like Hermione Granger-Jordan, and sadly it didn’t appear as though she ever would be.

“Mione, love?” Lee called out, glancing at the open door to Hermione’s office.

“Yes?” she replied, sounding rather distracted.

“I forgot to tell you Oliver was coming over to dinner tonight,” he replied, frowning.

She sighed. “Well, I suppose since Viktor isn’t coming into town like planned, there should be more than enough for Oliver to eat with us tonight.”

Lee frowned. “Not that I’m jealous or anything but why’d you offer up our guest room to your ex-boyfriend again?” he asked.

Coming out of her office, Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh honestly, Lee. I haven’t dated Viktor since I was fifteen and really, I thought it would be nice to catch up with him.”

He mimicked her, eyes turned up in irritation and Mariposa was hard-pressed not to laugh.

Hermione lifted a brow at him and he shrugged dismissively. “Still don’t see why he can’t stay at a hotel or something… He’s bleedin’ rich, y’know. You still chat through post. No need to see him face to face.”

Hermione crossed the floor toward him, pecking his cheek and nuzzling her nose with his. “He’s engaged you know,” she told him, nodding.

“Yeah?” Lee asked, sounding a little less disgruntled.

Hermione chuckled. “Yes, and very much in love with his pregnant fiancée.”

He grinned widely. “It’s too bad he couldn’t make it.” He shrugged. “Ah well. More for Ollie then.”

Hermione frowned. “I was expecting Viktor though and while Oliver has quite the appetite, there’s going to be a lot left over from dinner. We don’t have much room left in the fridge ice box.” She sighed. “I suppose I could bring it over to Ron, he’s never too full to eat a little more.” She tapped her chin in thought.

Lee shrugged before turning his attention to the half-asleep toddler in his arms. “This little one missed her nap today,” he told her, voice rather low.

Hermione sighed. “She says she’s too old for it now.” She rolled her eyes before running her hand over Jenessa’s dark hair fondly.

Lee reached out, hand rubbing the small bump of Hermione’s stomach. There was a soft smile on his face for a moment before he grinned up at Hermione. “You ready to go now?”

She nodded, covering her mouth as a yawn escaped.

Standing up from the desk, Lee wrapped an arm around her, hand sitting firmly on her waist. “Need to get you off your feet, mum.”

She frowned at the nickname but didn’t rebuke it, instead laying her head on his shoulder and threading her fingers with his.

“Eh, you have any single friends, love?” he asked suddenly as they walked away from her office.

Mariposa lifted a brow, covertly leaning forward in her desk to listen to their quiet conversation.

Hermione snorted. “And why, may I ask, would you like to know that?”

He chuckled, amused. “Ollie’s been whining that he needs a girlfriend lately. Wants to start dating again.”

Hermione furrowed her brow in though. “I’ll ask around.”

They walked past Mariposa’s desk with Hermione slowing in her steps to turn to her secretary. “It’s getting rather late, Mariposa, no need for you to stick around.”

“I’ll be on my way soon, ma’am,” she replied, nodding. She winced slightly as she remembered that Hermione told her, more than once, that she could refer to her as Hermione. Ma’am made her feel old, despite only being three years Mariposa’s senior.

“Hermione’s fine,” her boss told her, smiling slightly. “I’m sure you have plans. It’s Friday, after all.”

Mariposa hid her frown. Sadly, her plans had been cancelled for the weekend as her two girlfriends were busy with their boyfriends. “Unfortunately, my weekend is boringly free,” she admitted, before remembering she was speaking to her boss.

Hermione smiled understandingly.

“See you Monday,” Mariposa said in farewell, waving goodbye before turning her attention back to her work.

Hermione nodded, beginning to walk once more with Lee. His hand had slid to her back and was running up and down in soothing circles.

Mariposa watched from lowered lashes, wondering if perhaps one day in the future, she too might have such a sweet man for a husband.

“Oh,” Hermione said, before turning back. “You know, if you’re not busy and you’d like to, we’ve having a small dinner at our home tonight. We’d be happy to have you!”

Mariposa looked up with wide eyes, not sure how to respond.

“No pressure of course. If you’d rather not, then it’s no problem.” Hermione sent her a friendly smile. “Dinner’s served at seven, no need to bring anything.”

Mariposa simply nodded, her tongue too twisted for her to form words.

The graceful and obliviously lucky Hermione Granger-Jordan bid her goodbye and left with her almost annoyingly perfect family. Likely to her lovely and beautiful home, with walls covered in her hard earned and many accomplishments. She’d probably have her many famous, good looking and charismatic friends over – never without somebody to spend her weekends with. In a few months, she’d have a handsome little boy to go along with her adorable and bright young daughter. Years from now, she’d be the Minister of Magic, standing next to her perfect husband with her two wonderful children in front of her, more of her great accomplishments to be seen and sought for by other less perfect witches. And Mariposa sadly felt that she’d still be some underpaid secretary, working for somebody else by then and only seeing the great Hermione Granger-Jordan in the newspapers.

Frowning, she stacked her widespread pile of paperwork and put it to the side of her desk. She was feeling quite down in the dumps and decided it was time to go home and wallow in a bucket of Snucklecrunch ice cream. Picking up her coat and handbag, she walked toward the elevator, shoulders slumped and hair in a lopsided ponytail. She was happy there was no one around for the time being as there was a run in her panty hose and her heels kept making a funny hissing noise. She’d spilled coffee on her previously spotless white blouse early in the afternoon and chipped a nail while she was filing. Unlike Hermione, who always seemed put together, Mariposa was clumsy and rather disorganized.

It was as she stood in the elevator, leaned to one side, that she came to a startling realization. Oliver Wood was coming to dinner that night and she too had been invited! While it wasn’t a certainty, she couldn’t help but feel luck might just be on her side. She had exactly an hour to get home, dress herself up and try her best at calming herself down enough to find a sensible and interesting conversation topic to share. While she was no Hermione Granger-Jordan – she didn’t have the brains, the drive, the famous friends, or even the interesting life – she wasn’t a completely uninteresting person. She was pretty, with long dark hair, a warm smile, a slightly less than thin but rather curvy body, and she was really quite friendly when not faced with the Boy-Who-Lived-To-Defeat-The-Dark-Lord.

Yes, she Mariposa Dennard was not obliviously lucky in life, love or anything similar, but she had been given this one chance and she wasn’t going to waste it.

End.

A/N Hope you enjoyed this. I'll have another oneshot out soon. For those still wondering when updates for the other stories will be updated, I'm afraid I'm still waiting for my computer to be fixed. Is anybody else sick? It seems like everybody is getting sick? My ears and throat are killing me! -bleck-

Thanks for reading. Please review; it's greatly appreciated!
Much Love,
-Amanda

The Unforgettable Notch - M - Sirius/Hermione - OneShot - Complete!

2008-02-03T23:12:54Z

Title: The Unforgettable Notch
Words: 9,747
Genre: Romance/Humor/Angst
Relationship: Sirius/Hermione
Music: Undress Me Now - Morcheeba
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: He’d never forget her for the rest of his life. (Sirius/Hermione OneShot)

Giant thanks to my ever incredible beta - Danielle!

Banner made by: LilyEvansPotter15 of The Dark Arts!

Chapter image made by: sarcastic_fina

The Unforgettable Notch
by: atruwriter

1/1

A nineteen year old Hermione Granger could be found angrily pacing the library of 12 Grimmauld Place . She’d been working on time turner’s for the Ministry. They wanted them broken down to the smallest molecule so they could understand them perfectly. They wanted to be sure there was no way to tweak it so that it would take a person far enough back to change the past dramatically; like reviving or saving Voldemort from certain defeat. However, instead of proving that it could not be done, she found herself instead obsessed with proving it could. The mechanics of a time turner were complicated and very intricate, which is why it was taking her so long to perfect the formula to it. She felt as if she was either on the brink of a breakthrough or complete insanity. Nevertheless, she continued to pace and mutter, gnawing at her lip in concentration.

She came to a sudden stop, eyes widening and head cocking to one side. She rushed over to the separated pieces of her many Ministry-given time-turners and used her wand to enlarge one hourglass, adding sand from three others. She then slid it onto a necklace and wrapped it around her neck. “Let’s see,” she murmured. “Best try small… Hm…” She nodded slowly. “Just a couple weeks.”

She took a deep breath and turned the top counter clock wise two and three quarters of a twist. She watched the world around her twist and turn rapidly, throwing everything into distortion. She watched the library around her de-age and her worry heightened with each second that passed. There was no way she was only going back a couple weeks; the library hadn’t looked so clean, well, ever! She’d been working non-stop in it for months, trying to figure out the mysteries of the time turner. Harry had given her the house to work in as she pleased, seeing as he never wanted to set foot in it again. She’d carefully avoided Mrs. Black’s portrait, staying mostly to the library and, on occasion, the kitchen. However, being surrounded by such hard memories didn’t help her to concentrate and so she firmly pushed back any thoughts of Sirius and the former war. It would only bring about sadness.

When the room finally came to a stop, she swallowed tightly. A calendar was shown clearly on the desk and she walked toward it, nearly fainting as the date became clear.

May 15th, 1979

OooO

Sirius was happily chatting up a very pretty (and not very intelligent) blonde girl that had a fetish for wrapping her hair around her finger and turning her eyes up as if she were really thinking. She giggled a lot, he noticed, something that he found grated on his nerves but would put up with depending on how friendly she could be. She was also very touchy, always reaching out to slap his arm whenever she felt he was having her on. Admittedly, he was quite charming and funny, not that he had to try hard. Earlier he’d been making a reference to something obscure that she couldn’t have any knowledge of, but when she saw his smile, she laughed. Sometimes, it surprised him that girls like her had even passed Hogwarts. At least, he thought she did. He hadn’t really asked her age, assuming that since it was May and she walking around Diagon, she must have graduated already. Hmm…

She was talking again, something about hair or nails or something else he really didn’t care about. He nodded along with each pause she made, careful to look interested despite the fact that his eyes were wandering around the alley boredly. James and Lily had run off for some ‘alone time’ which probably meant they’d ditched him to go home and shag. He nearly snorted aloud, but kept it inside as best he could. Remus was visiting the apothecary while Peter took a trip to the candy shop. There was a pop nearby and his eyes slid away from… Bonnie? He shook his head, it didn’t much matter. A young woman was walking huffily down the Alley, thick brown hair swinging behind her with purpose. She was a pretty little thing; a little understated, but oddly enrapturing. She passed right by him, didn’t even glance in his directly; too bad for her he loved chasing the unattainable. He turned away from “Bonnie” and stuffed his hands in his pockets, watching the pretty nameless brunette walk toward the bookstore.

“So, Siri, what d’ya say? Why don’t we floo over to your flat and have ourselves some fun,” he heard “Bonnie” suggest, with a tinkering giggle seconds after.

“Uh, sorry, I just saw someone I haven’t seen in some time and… I really need to talk to them about… something important. I’ll see you later, yeah?” he asked vaguely, turning away and half-jogging toward the book store.

“B-But Siri,” she called after him, stunned. He could practically see her stomping her foot and pouting.

He grinned as he slipped inside the bookstore. He approached the pretty brunette as she dropped three large tomes on the desk before the shop clerk. He grinned his usual charming grin, but she didn’t even look his way.

“That’ll be thirteen galleons and 25 knuts,” the clerk told her grumpily.

She nodded, before reaching to her pocket and searching for her money. She came up empty, however, and sighed, going red with mortification. “Oh, I’m so, so sorry to have wasted your time,” she told the clerk. “Is…” She cleared her throat. “Is there anyway I could possibly reimburse you later today?”

“No money, no books,” he grunted, pulling them away from her.

“Oh but I really need them. I’m desperate, to be honest. It’s very important!” she told him, shaking her head, her eyes wide with pleading.

“Get outta here! I don’t run a library here, girlie. It’s a business!” he shouted gruffly.

“No worries,” Sirius said, stepping up as the young girl’s face contorted with worry. He pulled his money sac from his pocket and tossed the needed coins down carelessly. He turned to the young woman, certain she’d be beyond thankful and simply fall at his feet like all the other women he’d known. Instead, she frowned at him, taking the bag from the clerk and shifting on her feet uncomfortably.

“Thank you,” she said, clearing her throat and looking away. “Really. I appreciate it.” And with that, she walked out of the store, leaving a stunned Sirius Black behind.

He rushed after her when his wits returned, only to find her apparating away without so much as a glance back.

He ran a hand through his hair. What the hell just happened?

He didn’t see her again for three days, despite his constant trips to Diagon Alley in hopes that she’d appear. Peter told him to just forget about her, find some other bird to occupy his time, Remus suggested he ask around and see if anybody knew her, while James harassed him for falling in love at first sight. Lily thought he’d finally found a girl who didn’t think he was the most attractive thing disguised in an arrogant boy. He didn’t agree. He thought she was just shy and obviously not used to being around good looking blokes, otherwise she would’ve realized he was doing something to get her attention.

Three days passed and he spent each of them thinking of her. Of the short glimpse he really caught of her dark brown hair with fiery red strands littered through it. Of her pert nose with the five freckles scattered over the bridge. Of her cupids bow lips that were pink and plump and perfect. And the slope of her neck, the curves of her body, the subtle tightness of her shirt around her breasts. She was so short, too; barely reached his shoulder really.

On the fourth day, he returned to the same bookstore and leaned against it, kicking a rock from the ground and waiting in frustration in hopes that she’d appear once more. He was starting to think he’d hallucinated the whole thing. But then there was a pop, a muttering voice nearby, and the quick patter of feet. He looked up hopefully, eyes scanning the alley before him, finally settling on a cute little brunette, crossing the cobblestone street to the apothecary. He nearly ran after her, coming to a skipping halt next to her, grinning like a maniac. “Hey! ‘Member me?” he asked, voice far too excited for him to come off the least bit low key.

She lifted a brow at him, her mouth pursing. “Yes. Thank you again for those books. If you’ll excuse me, I really must go,” she said, sidestepping around him.

“Oh! But, uh—“

She ignored him, walking forward and pulling the door open to walk inside.

“Right,” he muttered. “No worries. I was just going to see if you wanted to get a butterbeer, repay my kindness. No, no, I’ll pay,” he said to the empty space before him. Rolling his eyes, he kicked the ground and felt his shoulders slump. He had two choices; persistence or defeat.

“Eh, young lady, what are you doing back there? You must bring all purchases to the front,” he heard from the apothecary behind him.

He turned quickly, seeing the young girl come to a halt in an aisle, arms filled with various bottles. He furrowed his brow before stepping inside.

“I was going to bring them to the front, once I got them all,” she told the clerk snootily, though her guilty expression gave her away to Sirius.

“You got everything then, love?” he asked her, his mouth quirking on one side.

She turned to him, her expression surprised.

“Sorry I’m late. I was passing by the Quidditch store and something caught my eye,” he told her, hoping she’d get the hint. If she was anything like most of the women he’d known in his life (save for Lily) then it would go right over her head.

“Oh really, as if you need anything more from there,” she said, her tone easily sounding much more comfortable than most would be able pull off with a stranger. “And yes, I’ve nearly got everything. Just need a little… bit of… this,” she said, struggling to grab one last bottle. She then slowly made her way to the front counter, laying the bottles down carefully and avoiding eye contact with the clerk.

For the second time since meeting the nameless brunette, he paid for her purchases. This time, however, he made sure to take one of her bags, assuming she wouldn’t leave him without all of her purchases. The clerk told them to have a nice day and they exited the store, walking out onto the cobblestone street once more.

With a sigh, she turned to him. “I really appreciate this, I do, but could I please have my bag? I must be going; it’s very important!”

He frowned, holding the bag behind his back and rocking on his feet. “So important you can’t join me? for a drink? Pay me back for my good deeds?”

She shook her head. “I really have to go. You have no idea how important this is.”

“All right,” he said, nodding and walking toward her.

She sighed with relief and lifted her hand out to take the bag.

“I’ll come with you. Give you a hand and when you’re all done, we can go have a drink,” he suggested, taking her hand in his instead of giving her the bag like she had anticipated.

She stared up at him with wide, stupefied eyes. “B-But- N-No! You can’t just- I-I can’t have you come. It’d be- Well it’s just ridiculous. I need to concentrate!” she told him, shaking her head.

“You don’t think you can concentrate with me there?” he asked roguishly, his mouth lifting and his brow cocking. “Why ever not?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes and turning away from him. “Thank you for your help, but I really can’t take you with me.”

“So whatever you’re doing doesn’t need whatever’s in this bag then?” he wondered, swinging it back and forth behind him.

She stopped, turning back to him and scowling. “I’ll just get whatever you have there again!”

“With what money?” he queried, shaking his head. “From what I’ve seen you’re pretty low on galleons. Either that or you’re very forgetful with your money pouch.” He shrugged, looking around as if didn’t really care. On the inside however, he was jumping excitedly. She was so intriguing and unlike any girl he’d known before.

She stood in deliberation for a moment, chewing her lip and shifting around on her feet. With a large sigh, she nodded abruptly. “Fine,” she said, holding her hand out for him to take.

He walked forward, taking her hand and grinning. “Is side-along apparition the best idea? It’s kind of hard to do and—“

She apparated them away and they appeared with a pop just on the outskirts of a very familiar place. “You don’t go to Hogwarts still, do you?”

She snorted. “Of course not, I graduated nearly two years ago,” she told him, lifting her chin.

“Then why are we…” He trailed off as the Shrieking Shack came into view. “You, uh, come here then?” he asked nervously. “It’s supposed to be haunted, you know?” He hoped she never visited during the full moon. He didn’t know what would happen if she was around when Moony came out to play. It wouldn’t be pretty.

“Yes, I’ve heard. Ridiculous rot,” she told him, shaking her head. “Besides, I won’t be here long. I only have to finish up what I’m doing and then I’ll be off.” She muttered something under her breath which he could’ve sworn was, “Long before the next full moon,” but wrote it off as his own fears.

She barely paused at the Whomping Willow, using a stick to press the knot and get it to stop swinging at them. She then climbed through the tunnel like a pro and into the Shrieking Shack without pause. He followed after her, not bothering to look around as he’d been there so many times before, it wasn’t needed. He followed her up the stairs to a room that was lit with candles and had the books he’d bought her laid out. There was parchment all over, written on with intricate patterns and formulas.

“Smart bird, huh?” he asked, lifting a brow.

“Yes,” she said stiffly.

“Not a bad thing,” he quickly added. His eyes roamed over her, landing on her bottom as his head tilted to the side. “Not bad at all.”

She snorted. “My arse or my intelligence?” she asked, amusement ringing in her voice.

His eyes rose to hers, realizing she’d caught him. He grinned, shrugging slightly. “Can’t blame me, I’m made up of hormones.”

She shook her head, obviously thinking he was quite ridiculous. But he could see the lift of her mouth as she tried to suppress a smile.

She took a seat on a blanket that looked out of place in the dusty surroundings. It was black silk with grin trimming; reminding him quite a bit of the blanket he’d used back when he lived at home with his mother. He crossed the room to sit down next to her. “So,” he said, “What are we brewing up today?”

She glanced at him, sighing lightly. “I can’t tell you. You’re just going to have to trust me and listen close to directions.”

“Right then,” he said, nodding, though his curiosity was very peaked. “What first?”

“Get the bottles out and I’ll show you which to use and how to put them together.” She glanced at him skeptically. “How were your marks in Hogwarts?”

He shrugged slightly. “I wasn’t Headboy,” he admitted. His brow furrowed. “You didn’t go to Hogwarts.”

She looked up at him, lifting a brow.

“I would’ve noticed you. We would’ve been in the same class and you definitely weren’t there.”

“You’re right. I didn’t go to Hogwarts with you,” she said, shaking her head.

“So where’d you go then?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she muttered. “Hand me that bottle there.”

He sighed. It was going to take awhile to wear her down.

Four days later, he’d just barely cracked the enigma that was the mysterious young woman who appeared in his life. Her name was Hermione. He was fairly certain she hadn’t meant to tell him, but she’d been preoccupied and when he asked it just slipped out. It was an odd name, he told her; very rare. “Not really,” she said, shaking her head. “Quite common actually. There are lots of Hermione’s.” He wasn’t sure why she was so insistent about that.

He called her Kitten, despite her frowning every time he did. And he’d been wrong; there were actually six freckles on her nose, not five. Her lips were just as pink and plump as he’d thought though. Her curves more pronounced as she wore Lily’s clothes (of which he borrowed for her). She spent every day reworking whatever it was she was working on. There was an odd chunk of glass she continued to try and transfigure into something and a book of runes that she told him needed to be imprinted on the finished product. He wondered how long it was going to take, but she had no answers, simply getting more and more frustrated as time went by.

He got up early each morning and apparated from his flat over to the outskirts of the Shrieking Shack, sneaking inside to see her every day. He didn’t leave until she was so tired she fell asleep while reading, which wasn’t usually until quite late. He brought her breakfast and packed them both a lunch. He’d coaxed her out to eat dinner at random little restaurants most nights or, if she was insistent on staying to work, he apparated over to James and Lily’s, stole a couple plates of food and came back to her.

He was utterly enthralled with her. She was brilliant, there was no doubt. She read faster than anybody he’d known. She made an odd sort of sand out of the various ingredients they’d put together and brewed. It took a few days for it to settle into sand and he’d been a little uncertain about whether or not she’d have to drink it. The glass shape she was making was slowly becoming more recognizable, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was.

He’d asked her to come meet his friends more times than he could count, offering her a place at his flat (his bed was preferable but if she really wanted to sleep on the couch, he wouldn’t complain). She refused both, every time. She’d stay in the Shrieking Shack as long as it took and while she appreciated his help, she didn’t want to meet the rest of the Marauders.

“It’s important that you leave it alone, Sirius,” she told him one afternoon as he persisted and complained, whining that they’d like her and she was sure to like them.

“How? Why?” he asked, flopping back on the blanket beside her. “They’re the coolest blokes you’ll ever meet,” he told her. “And Peter’s not bad either. You might like Lily as well. She’s a real brain, just like you.”

Hermione shook her head. “Honestly,” she said, sighing. “You need to let this go, Sirius. I have no doubts that your friends are… spectacular, but…. I can’t meet them.”

“Tell me why,” he told her, his voice lower than usual. “Tell me all your secrets?” He reached out with one hand, trailing his finger from her shoulder down to her wrist.

“They wouldn’t be secrets then, would they?” she replied quietly, her hand stilling against her book. She turned, looking at him with rather sad eyes. “Why do you stay here with me, Sirius? You could be out with your friends, enjoying life.”

“You’re one of my friends, aren’t you?” He traced the inside of her forearm with his finger, slow and teasing, tickling her skin lightly. “Not that I’d complain if you wanted more,” he told her with a grin. He looked away before he could see the rejection in her eyes. Every day he brought it up and every day she let him down as easy as she could. She never looked him in the eye, always kept her attention elsewhere, avoiding disappointing him face to face. The “I’m not right for you’s” and the “It’s better this way’s,” were getting tiring.

He’d never been so drawn to anyone before and yet she seemed totally unimpacted by him entirely. He was simply there, a bit of a nuisance at times. She could care less if he came or went, it felt. She enjoyed his company at times, but she never asked him to come back and wasn’t particularly happy when he arrived. He wasn’t used to not being the center of most women’s lives. They found him arrogant yes, but attractively so. He was handsome! Without a doubt! Dark hair, grey eyes, chiseled face, toned body; he was every girl’s perfect man. Except Hermione wasn’t every girl; she was… something else entirely.

“Sirius,” she said, softly, frowning. “I’ve told you before. You and I are not going to happen. We’re just not compatible,” she said, shaking her head swiftly. “You’re mischievous and outgoing. You love adventure and humor. I… I study and learn and think constantly. You’re better made for someone who isn’t so… stuffy,” she told him, nodding.

He furrowed his brow, shaking his head. “You’re not stuffy.”

“I am!” she countered, her brows lifting with emphasis. “I’ve read Hogwarts: A History forty-three times. Yes, it’s true. I thrive on books and knowledge. I could care less about Quidditch. I’d rather sit down with a nice book and just read. It’s who I am and it’s not anything like you. We- We’d clash entirely.”

“No. No, we wouldn’t. We’d make up for each other’s lesser qualities. So I don’t read much, you can do the reading for the both of us. All right, you don’t love Quidditch, I’ll cheer loud enough that you don’t have to.” He shook his head, sighing in desperation for some kind of proof to give her. He wasn’t even sure why he was doing it. Sure she was pretty and intelligent an oddly enthralling, but why was he trying so hard? If she didn’t want him, if she honestly felt they’d be a mess as more than friends, then why didn’t he just accept it and go find some other girl? Because she was like nothing he ever knew. She challenged him and cared even if she didn’t want to admit it. When the Whomping Willow took a slice out of his shoulder, she cradled it carefully, looking at it worriedly, using her wand to heal it as best she could and then wrapping it in a transfigured bandage. She didn’t let him use his arm the rest of the night, constantly taking things away from him and telling him not to put strain on himself. And despite her certain tones that told him she didn’t want to be with him, her eyes roamed his way sometimes, looking soft. She always shivered when he touched her, even if it was just a light brush of his hand against hers. She wasn’t as ignorant of him as she played.

“Why can’t you just admit that we’d be good together?” He trailed his fingers over the slope of her neck.

“You’re going to change your mind one day,” she told him, her eyes turning to stare out the window. “You’ll realize that this infatuation you have is… not worth it. You could be with countless beauties, Sirius. All who would appreciate your attention far more.” She placed her hand over his, stilling it against her shoulder. “I don’t want to be anything more than your friend. I simply don’t think of you that way.” Her tone was clear and crisp and she went back to her work quickly.

That hurt. He rose from his place beside her, feeling torn up and beaten down. He nodded, clearing his throat uncomfortably and fled without saying anything more. He needed to get away and pretend he hadn’t just had his heart torn out. He didn’t return for two days, spent them at James’ flat, sitting sullenly on his couch.

“Why don’t you just go talk to her?” James suggested, taking a drink of his butterbeer and throwing his feet up onto the coffee table.

“Feet, off,” Lily’s voice called out.

James’ feet immediately retracted, Sirius ignored her. “Because… That’d be completely embarrassing. Oh, sorry I haven’t been over in the last two days, just felt like you completely crushed my pride and I needed to go cry my misery away.”

“Did you really cry?” James asked astonished and lifting a brow.

Sirius snorted. “’Course not. It was a figure of speech.”

James stared at him curiously for a moment. “I won’t tease you if you did.”

“I did not cry,” he told him, sighing. “I was just… upset. I went to the Three Broomsticks, had a Firewhiskey or five, flirted with Madame Rosmerta and then went home.” He muttered something under his breath and James waited for him to repeat it. “All right I was a little wasted and she had to help me floo to my flat. Woke up on my floor.” He scowled.

James laughed. “You got it bad, my friend.”

“Do not,” he denied childishly.

“You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you?” he asked, eyes widening with astonishment. “The great, ladies-man Black has actually fallen for a girl! And she hasn’t even let you kiss her.”

“Sod off!” He shoved his best mate sideways, slumping lower in the couch and sighing heavily. “Why doesn’t she want me?” he grumbled sadly.

“Maybe she really does,” Lily said, coming into the living room to take a seat across from them.

“Of course! How could I confuse ‘I don’t want to be anything but your friend. I just don’t think of you like that,’ with ‘I love you and I want to be with your forever,’” he replied sarcastically.

She pursed her lips, reaching out and pushing his feet from her table. “What I meant was, maybe she does like you and she’s afraid of what that could mean. She’s apparently hiding out in the Shrieking Shack, making some urgent device of which you have no understanding of. Having a boy throw himself at her feet, wanting to be in a relationship is hardly what she needs. Her life appears to be a mess and she’s barely keeping it together as it is. Throw you into the mix and the mess just gets bigger!”

Sirius stared at her with a furrowed brow. “So what you’re saying is she really wants me?”

“Well, perhaps, but I think you missed the point, Sirius, I—“

“She wants me!” he shouted gleefully, hopping up from the couch and pumping his fist into the air. He slapped James’ shoulder before walking away from them, grabbing his leather coat as he went.

Lily looked quite confused. “Sirius, you misunderstood me, I—“

“Thanks Lils, ‘preciate your input. I’ll see you later,” he told them before apparating away with a pop.

He appeared just outside of the Shrieking Shack and quickly made his way past the Whomping Willow and through the tunnels, climbing the stairs toward the second floor, where she was camped out. “Hermione, it’s me, I uh, I really need to talk to you. I know I’ve been an utter git! I’m sorry, Kitten. I kept pushing you for something you weren’t ready for and I didn’t mean to, I just…” He trailed off as he entered the room she was occupying. Sitting before her was an hour glass on a necklace. It was shiny and beautiful and it seemed to radiate with power somehow.

“I’ve finished it,” she told him, her voice soft and quiet.

“That’s… That’s wonderful,” he told her, crossing the room to sit down beside her. “What’s it do?” He reached out with his finger, slow as if worried of the reaction he might get if he poked it.

She caught his hand when it was just short of the mysterious necklace. “Don’t,” she said.

He considered asking her why, but found the warmth of her hand around his rather distracting. “So what’s this mean then?” he wondered.

“I can’t tell you that,” she reminded, shaking her head.

“But… If it’s done then… Then you have no more commitments to it, right? You have all the time in the world!” He felt excitement build in his chest.

“All the time in the world,” she repeated quietly.

“Right, so then… Maybe, I mean if you wanted to, we could, er… I… I thought, I mean…” He sighed, feeling ridiculous for actually stumbling over his words. Only she had this effect on him. “I know… I know you said that you didn’t want to be with me and that you don’t think of me that way, but… But I think of you that way. I think of you a lot, really. Of your eyes and your hair and your… your nose.” He chuckled rather breathlessly. What was that fluttering in his stomach? What did the racing of his heart mean? “Your six freckles and your long eyelashes. I think of you when I go to sleep and when I wake up. I…” He stared at her, swallowing tightly. “I can’t stop.”

She turned, looking at him with tearful eyes. “Oh Sirius…” She sniffled, wiping at her face. “You say this to all those girls that fall for your charm?”

He tried to smile, shaking his head. “No. No, you’re the first.”

“I should feel special then, yeah?” She licked her lips, turning her eyes away. “You’re a wonderful man, but—“

“Look at me,” he interrupted.

She glanced at him before her eyes fell. “I just think—“

“Look me in the eyes, Hermione,” he told her, his voice rather harsh with emotion. “Tell me to my face that you don’t want me. That you don’t… You don’t love me like I love you.”

She lifted her face, staring him in the eye. “You c-cant.”

“I can,” he corrected. “I do.”

“You barely know me,” she whispered.

“I know enough to love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.” He swallowed tightly. “I was drawn to you immediately and I set out to find you, whatever it took. For days, I hung around Diagon just waiting for you to return. Every day I come to see you. See you work; sighing and muttering and completely frustrated. Gnawing at your lip and pacing the room. Hands on your hips, head nodding as you think of something else. Every night I leave when you fall asleep; so peaceful and beautiful there on the blanket, your hand still holding your page in your book.” He shook his head. “I’ve never loved before, to be honest, and yes, maybe I’m confusing it with something else. But this is what I think love feels like and it’s what I feel for you.”

Her tears slid down her cheeks as she bit her quivering lip. “You’ll hate me one day.”

“Never,” he denied.

She shook her head. “When you’re older and you look back on this, you’ll know what I mean, and you’ll hate me for it.”

He cupped her face. “I could never hate you. I love you too much.”

“There’s a thin line,” she murmured, sniffling.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “For all you know, years from now, when I’m however old, I’ll be married to you and just as happy as James and Lily are. And maybe that won’t happen; maybe it’s a foolish little dream of a love struck man, but… But I love you now and the idea of hating you is so far from ever being true that I can’t believe it.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Everything will change come tomorrow,” she said, slowly falling backwards as he leaned into her. Her eyes lifted, staring into his as his face came closer, mouth hovering near hers.

“If everything else changes, my love for you won’t,” he breathed before caressing his lips over hers. Her eyes fell shut immediately and her hand raised, tangling in his hair. She moaned lightly and he felt the sides of his mouth quirk up. As her back hit the blanket beneath them, his body fit against hers, molding to her every curve and dip. One of his hands found her hip, sliding up her side, dragging her blouse with his calloused palm. His other hand ran up and down the length of her arm, squeezing randomly, kneading at her lightly. Her mouth parted and his tongue slid inside to twist with hers. She tasted like warm peppermint. He felt himself shake from head to toe, so many arousing and exhilarating feelings flooding through him. As he felt the cold chain of her necklace against his hand, he lifted it from the blanket and moved it to the armchair across from them so it wouldn’t get broken.

As their mouths parted, his eyes slowly opened to stare down at her for a moment. Her brown eyes were glazed and her mouth was puffy as she breathed a little heavy. She stared up at him with something he couldn’t quite decipher in her gaze. She reached up, running her fingers down the side of his face. She traced the contours of his face with her thumb, running the pad of her thumb along his bottom lip. “We shouldn’t,” she murmured softly, trailing off.

“Tell me why,” he said, kissing her thumb before leaning forward to brush his lips against hers. “Tell me everything.”

“I wish I could,” she breathed in between kissing him.

His hand tangled in her hair, holding tight. “You can tell me anything, Kitten.” Their foreheads pressed together and he stared straight into her eyes.

“Just kiss me, Sirius,” she told him, her eyes half-closed. “Make it all better.”

He didn’t pause or question it, he simply leaned forward and met her lips; soft, moist and warm against his. Her arms wrapped around him, pressing into his back, fingers splayed out over his shirt. He found himself lying between her upturned legs, her thighs tight around his waist. She was wearing one of the dresses he brought her from Lily; a blue one that flattered her. His hand found her knee, slowly sliding down her leg, pushing the dress up higher and revealing her soft thighs. He squeezed and kneaded her thigh, dragging it higher up his side. She suddenly rolled them over so he was beneath her and hovered above him. Instead of meeting his mouth once more, she trailed down his cheek, along the curve of his neck, beneath his shirt at his collar. Her hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt, sliding it higher on his torso until he finally grabbed the bottom and tugged it off entirely, throwing it across the room.

Her hands smoothed down his chest, fingers curled to drag over his skin teasingly. His stomach tightened in reaction and his head fell back as he groaned. His hands sat on the back of her thighs, rubbing at them soothingly, her dress pooling around his wrists. Her body was taut like a bow, stomach rubbing against him while the rest of her was arched up and tensed. She kissed down his chest, her hair trailing behind him, tickling him lightly. She descended torturously slow, her mouth brushing against him lightly, making the whole of his body anticipate each kiss longingly. Her hands ran down his sides, curling around the waist of his pants and sliding to the front. She undid the buttons holding them closed before sliding her hands back up. Her nose grazed his torso, sliding from his navel to his breast bone, her mouth kissing, teeth nipping, tongue dragging over him.

His hands slid up, taking her dress with them; over the curve of her noticeably bare arse, dipping at the small of her back, sliding up her spine, pausing at her shoulders to let her arms free and then slipping it off her entirely. His breath caught in his throat. She was completely naked before him; all creamy white skin and soft curves. His hand reached out, knuckles dragging up her flat stomach to the valley of her breasts; he spread his fingers out, touching the curves lightly. She covered his hand with her own and very slowly moved it to the right until it covered and cupped her breast. He swallowed tightly, eyes slowly raising from her nakedness to her face. She stared down at him, mildly nervous but stubborn enough to try and hide it. His other hand reached out, sliding up her side until he cupped her soft mounds in his hands, thumbs massaging the centers in slow circles. She arched into him, head falling back, the line of her neck taut.

She was so sensual and beautiful and utterly amazing in that moment. He could feel her hips gyrating ever so subtly, rubbing against his hardness and bringing it more to attention. He groaned and stuttered out a breath, eyes rolling back as her hips picked up in pace. Her fingers threaded with his over her breasts before sliding down, wrapping around his wrists lightly, fingers curling to drag down his forearms, nails grazing him, as her hands met his shoulders, her nails dug in deep, but the pain only added to it all. He sat up slowly, careful not to disturb her position or move his hands until he was face to face with her once more. She lifted her head and brought it down to kiss him passionately. “Sirius,” she moaned into his mouth.

“I want you,” he told her, his voice a mere needy breath. “I want all of you.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck. “And I never want to let you go.”

She slid one of her hands up, burying it in his hair. She rose up on her knees, her other hand falling to tug at his pants with purpose. He got the hint and lifted himself, managing to shift out of his pants and boxers with a little creative wiggling. His hands slid up her thighs to perch of her hips.

He lifted his gaze to her. “You’re sure?” he wondered, trailing a hand over her stomach.

She bit her lip, nodding. Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss against his forehead. “Touch me,” she whispered.

He shivered, his eyes falling closed. He pressed a kiss against her collar, his mouth falling lower until it wrapped around the rosy center of her breast. His hand slid down her waist to her thigh, rubbing the inside of it with his knuckles gently. He could practically already feel her heat and as his fingers slid higher, he felt her envelop him. He stroked her hot, wet folds, one of his arms wrapping around her waist to keep her in place as she nearly slipped from her kneeling position. He teased her breast with his mouth while his fingers tenderly explored her. She quivered around him, crying out each time his finger grazed the bundle of nerves that sent her into a jerking fit. Her arms fell over his shoulders, fingers pressing against his back, dragging upward, nails raking upward. She gripped his shoulders tight as his fingers sped up and her body became a massive explosion of ecstasy. She threw her head back, shouting his name out. He tenderly kissed away from her breast, resting his forehead against her collar, listening to her heart beat rapidly.

As his hands slid up her sides, hers pushed him back until he was lying out on the black blanket beneath them. One of his hands cupped her face, thumb stroking her cheek. She took his other hand in hers, covering the one on her face with her own. She lowered herself slowly onto him, eyes staying on his the entire time. He felt his heart skip a beat and his breath leave him as her heat enveloped him entirely. “Gods,” he gasped. His eyes closed tight and his mouth fell open in a shuddering intake of air.

He felt her hand squeeze his and tightened his grip on hers. His hand fell from her cheek, sliding down her neck, over her shoulders, trailing down her stomach to sit on her hip. She raised slowly, her body arched over him, breasts brushing against his chest. She kissed him lightly as they began a slow, delirious pace that had him teetering over an edge that wouldn’t let him fall. Her hips rotated as she rose and fell, meeting each thrust of his hips with ease, as if they were meant to make love with each other alone. He held onto her hand the whole time, never letting go for anything. His other was busy exploring her; caressing and arousing every curve and dip he could find. Her ribs were ticklish, he noticed. Pressing the small of her back made her hips speed up slightly. She loved pulling his hair whenever he hit a certain spot in her.

“Sirius,” she whimpered, her hand pressing down against his stomach, nails curling against him.

He couldn’t take the pace anymore and turned them over in a surprising execution of agility. She lay beneath him, her face twisted with an erotic expression of pleasure. Her eyes were glazed, her hair a tangle, her cheeks flushed and her lips puffy. Her body shone with sweat and a rosy hue, love bites littered her skin. Her thighs pressed against his sides and he took the hint to speed up. He kissed her neck, moaning brokenly as she quivered around him. One of her arms was wrapped tight around his shoulders, fingers dug deep in his bicep. He licked a bead of sweat from the crook of her neck, whispering words of encouragement as he felt her body tighten and tense around him, bringing him higher and higher. When she finally broke, she took him with her. Her body seemed to lift up into his, her nails scoring down his back at an angle. She nearly screamed his name, her hand squeezing his so tightly it went numb. His body thrummed and jerked; his eyes were closed tight as his face buried against her neck. He could feel a tingle from his head to his toes and his breath came back to him in a rush.

He slumped forward, his entire body running out of all energy. Worried he might be crushing her, he rolled over, dragging her on top of him. She settled on his chest comfortably, her chin over his heart and her eyes still closed. She shivered off and on, but not from the cold. When her eyes finally opened, she stared at him lazily. Her hands wrapped around the back of his shoulders and she laid her cheek down, sighing in content. He lifted the side of the blanket, covering them in it. As he ran his hand over her hair, watching her as she relaxed into him, he noticed the black ring sitting on his finger; elegant and antique. They’d often been used in proposals over history, a sign of acceptance into the Black line. He wasn’t technically considered part of his family any longer; likely burned off the family tree as well. But he wore the ring still. It had previously meant so much darkness in a life where he wanted none of it.

“Kitten?” he asked quietly.

“Hmm?” she replied, her voice like a purr as she turned her head to look up at him, eyes half closed in tiredness.

“I love you,” he told her, feeling the weight of the words settle inside of him. He’d never said it before. Never really felt it for anyone. He reached out, pushing a curl off her face. He grinned then. “You should relish in these moments, I’m rarely serious. Even if I don’t say it often, I still feel it.” He nodded. “I always will.”

She lifted a skeptical brow, wrinkling her nose.

He chuckled, smoothing out her brow with his finger. “You can question it all you want, love, doesn’t change what I know.” He trailed his finger down the bridge of her nose. “Sadly, you are now stuck with an incredibly handsome, funny, intelligent, charismatic—“

“Arrogant,” she interrupted, smirking.

He grinned. “Proud, unserious Sirius Black until you finally get sick of my pranks.” He lifted a finger. “Which will be hard, mind you, as I’m brilliant when it comes to mischief.”

“Prank me and you’ll never have children,” she warned, lifting a brow.

He smirked. “Don’t punish yourself for my folly!”

She frowned, rolling her eyes.

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her in a strong embrace. He yawned widely and let his eyes fall shut as sleep threatened to take him.

“Hey,” she said, drawing his attention back to her. He opened one of his eyes lazily. She smiled. “I love you too, my unserious Sirius.”

His mouth lifted in a large grin and he fell asleep feeling rejuvenated. His dreams were all peaceful and he found himself flying high on cloud nine.

The next morning, he woke to find her fiddling with her necklace and pacing the room. “Why don’t we go to Diagon for breakfast?” he called out to her, drawing her attention away from her thoughts. “I’m hungry.” He sat up with no modesty and dragged most of his clothes on. He grinned at the blush that filled her cheeks. “Not like you haven’t touched or kissed every inch,” he teased.

She frowned at him before tossing his shirt at him. He caught it easily and tugged it on.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She pursed her mouth, but nodded. He took her hand as she walked past him and followed her down the stairs and out the tunnel. They sped past the Whomping Willow and apparated to Diagon Alley. He swung their hands between them, feeling like a boy who just got the best present for Christmas. She was obviously deep in thought and her fingers kept fiddling with her homemade contraption. He was still curious as to how it worked and what it did, but he knew he’d get no answers from her. He walked them toward a nice restaurant that he knew made a great breakfast. His thumb kept twisting and turning the ring of his finger and he came to a decision that he’d been considering since the night before. While she was distracted, he managed to get his ring off, charm an inscription inside, and slide it onto her finger. She didn’t notice a thing, still too preoccupied in her thoughts. He grinned to himself, dragging her closer and wrapping an arm around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing softly.

They’d almost reached the restaurant door before she came to a sudden halt. He turned to her, lifting a confused brow. Her eyes were looking around as if she were lost and filling with tears quickly.

“Hermione?”

She shook her head, lifting a hand and pressing it to her furrowed brow. “Please don’t hate me,” she croaked out.

“I could never,” he told her, shaking his head. “We already talked about this, love.”

She bit her lip. “I’m so sorry Sirius.”

“About what?”

“I- I have to go,” she told him hurriedly, her feet backing up.

“Go? Go where? When will you be back?” he asked, bewildered.

She let out a bitter, sad laugh. “Oh, Sirius,” she murmured, sniffling.

He reached out for her. “Why don’t we talk about this? You can explain it over breakfast,” he suggested, suddenly feeling a very tight, worrisome knot in his stomach. Dread.

She lifted her hand, cupping his cheek. “Remember that I love you.”

His brows fused together, but before he could say anything, she backed away from him, her hand wrapping around her necklace, his ring glittering in the morning sun. In a whirl of light and a fuzzy vision of her, she was gone. No pop, no time to change her mind. She was simply gone.

Forever, he knew. He felt his heart break in that moment and this time, he did cry.

OooO

Hermione fell to her knees as she appeared in Diagon Alley, sobbing her heart out. People simply passed her by, rushing here or there, ignoring her completely. She slammed her fist against the cobblestone ground, inhaling gusts of air, trying to soothe her burning lungs and broken heart. She scrambled from the ground and quickly apparated to 12 Grimmauld place. So dark and unpleasant, it was hard to believe the boy she knew had grown up in the same house. Her feet took her toward the library on autopilot, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She glanced at the calendar on the desk - May 15th, 1999. She swallowed tightly, her knees going weak and her face tightening with remorse. “Oh Gods, Oh gods,” she murmured, shaking her head.

Everything was exactly as she’d left it. Her ingredient bottles were still lying around, books open, scattered parchment with formulas sitting out plainly for anyone to see. Nothing changed. She hadn’t done anything to fix the past. Her time with Sirius must’ve already happened in various other times just like this. Had he known all along? That it was her helping Harry save him? That she was the young, bossy, bushy haired girl living in his house? Or had he forgotten all about her? Another notch on his bed, just like all those other conquests he’d boasted about and Remus had backed up?

She suddenly felt suffocated in the large House of Black and apparated away, arms wrapped tight around herself. She wasn’t surprised to find herself standing just outside of the Shrieking Shack. Her feet walked a knowing path up and over the hill, past the Whomping Willow, through the tunnel and up the stairs. She came to a halt in the same room she and Sirius had spent nearly all their time. It looked nothing like it did; much worse off. The floors creaked under her, the windows were shattered, the walls cracked in various places. There were no candles sitting on the floor all around, no blanket for them to lie on, no books or ingredients or trinket to make. She couldn’t hear him laughing or teasing, couldn’t feel his breath against the back of her neck as he hovered behind her, reading over her shoulder. She couldn’t feel his finger tracing her arm like he liked to do, or his mouth kissing her cheek in hello and her forehead in goodbye, his voice didn’t whisper against her ear, “Hullo Kitten.” He was gone.

She walked to the center of the room, where their blanket used to lay, where they made love, and slumped to sit bonelessly, broken. Her eyes roamed the area, upset that it had changed so much, that their memories couldn’t be preserved in the walls or the floor. In the blanket folded up and placed in the corner- She paused, suddenly crawling across the floor and dragging the blanket out. It was her blanket; their blanket. She’d snuck up to the bedrooms to take a few things with her while Walburga wasn’t looking as she escaped Grimmauld place for somewhere safer. She’d taken the blanket from his bed seeing as it was the easiest to get into and the one she felt most comfortable with. She tugged the blanket into her lap and unraveled it to wrap around her. It was a little threadbare and dusty but it looked as though nobody had used it in all that time. As she opened it, she could tell it’d been folded for years, a couple decades even.

As she laid it out over her legs, an envelope fell to the floor. She noticed Sirius’ penmanship immediately and wasn’t sure she could handle opening it. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the back and slid the weathered parchment out. She unfolded it carefully, eyes averted as she gathered her nerve. Finally, she let them fall to his elegant scrawl…

Dear Kitten,

Must admit, I never expected to see you again. Least of all in the young version of my best mate’s son’s friend. Admittedly, when I first saw you, I thought perhaps you were my Kitten’s daughter. That she’d gone away, had a child, possibly even mine, hopefully. But then there were little things I noticed that were all you and I realized what had happened. Time travel, hm? I understand now what you mean, about hating you. You thought I’d blame you for not saving James and Lily when you had the opportunity. At first, I really was honestly upset with you. They were my family, the closest people I had. But then… I remembered how sorrowful you were that you couldn’t help me… That you truly thought I would hate you. And I never could, Hermione. I fell in love with you quickly. You were enthralling and beautiful and so very mysterious. I wasn’t used to girls like you. You opened my eyes to a whole lot of things…

You were the first and last woman I really made love to. After you, I didn’t want anyone else. I just wanted to find you again, find the feelings I had when I was with you. It took me awhile to accept the fact that you were never going to return to me. It wasn’t until your fourth year that I knew... It all added up… The time-turner you used to save me, the reference to you reading Hogwarts: A History despite telling me you never went, and the different versions of you that I knew. It seems like some horrible trick of fate that you should be born in this era rather than my own. That I couldn’t keep you for myself but instead live on, alone and wishing I could see you just once more. The Hermione I knew. My Kitten.

If you’re reading this, you’re her now. The girl I made love to on this very floor. The girl I spent hours simply watching as she chewed her lip and mumbled random brilliant thoughts to herself. The girl I talked about with my friends, nonstop. The girl that has occupied my thoughts ever since. I never let go of you, Hermione. I held your memory close, the only one I could truly keep from the Dementors.

You broke my heart that day you left but I’m not so naïve or selfish to believe you didn’t break your own as well. Life and time permitting, I would’ve loved you forever. I love you to this day. I could never hate you, my dear. A thin line, there may be, but my feelings for you were strong enough for me never to question which side I stood on.

I’m much older now; far too calloused and not the same young man who charmed you into giving in to those incredible feelings. You’re young and beautiful and you have a whole life ahead of you. I don’t blame you for doing what you did. Sadly, this was how it was all intended to turn out. I wish it could’ve been different. That they could live and we could love, but it’s not so.

I just wanted you to know that I never forgot. You were unforgettable. That I really loved you and always will. That I forgive you, Hermione, for you did the right thing.

Take care, my sweet Kitten.

Love Always,

Your Unserious Sirius

Hermione took a deep shuddering breath, the paper shaking in her hands. It was as she finished reading that she noticed the ring around her finger. She reached out, running her finger along the black stone. She tugged it off, eyes wide with astonishment. She held the ring up to the sun filtering through the broken windows. It was beautiful; antique silver band, a large black gem in the center and letters scrawled along the bottom of the band, spelling “BLACK.” Her eyes thinned as she noticed tiny writing on the inside, she held it up closer.

Forever Love

She closed her eyes, blinking back the burning tears. She slid it back on her finger and covered her face with her hands, rocking side to side in her agony. She missed him already; his incessant chatter, his need for her attention, his devilish smirk and warm grey eyes. She curled her hand, pressing her fingers against her lips. She missed his kiss and his touch and the simple feel of him holding her. He really had loved her, she realized, gasping for air as it seemed to leave her entirely.

She was no notch on his bedpost, but an unforgettable first and last love. Some part of her wanted to return to him, to take hold of the necklace and go back, but she knew it wasn’t right. She had to stay where she was, carry her grief just as he had throughout the years, live with what had happened and perhaps move on. She admired the ring on her finger, running her thumb over it. At least she always had something to make her feel close to him. She gathered up the blanket and the letter and made her way out of the Shrieking Shack, apparating back to Grimmauld place.

She climbed the old, creaky stairs, bypassing Mrs. Black’s portrait carefully, and slipped inside Sirius’ bedroom. She laid down in the center of it, throwing their blanket across her and laying her head down on his pillow. Stretching out across the large expanse of the huge bed, she felt an inner peace consume her as she relaxed. If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine him there next to her, running his hand over her side, playing with her hair, kissing her shoulder. He was hers and her alone, if only in memory now. Just as she was his and forever would be. His unforgettable notch, happily.

End.

A/N Hope you enjoyed this. As my beta puts it - "very bittersweet." I find Sirius a wonderful character to write. He's so... charismatic. Anyway, I'm thinking, should time permit me and my oneshots all be finished, I might give it a go at a Sirius/Hermione story - meaning long chapters and the likelihood of a less sad ending. Let me know what you think!

Thanks for reading. Please review, it's greatly appreciated!
Much Love,
-Amanda

Side Note: Thank you so much to all those who've sent their deepest condolences about my grandma. The service was well very nice, she would've been happy with it. My only regret is that I snapped my ankle on the ice when I went running to see my cousin and now I have a bump the size of a golfball on the side of my foot. :(
</div>

Various Pairings (All Het)

2008-01-27T04:18:37Z

Pairings Include:

Charlie/Hermione (2)
James/Hermione (2)
Remus/Hermione (2)
Regulus/Hermione (1)
Fred/Hermione (5)
Sirius/Hermione (2)
Cedric/Hermione (1)
Bill/Hermione (1)
Draco/Hermione (1)
Harry/Hermione (3)
Oliver/Hermione (1)

Title: Forever Young
Words: 6,614
Genre: Romance
Relationship: Remus/Hermione
Music: Bubbly – Colbie Caillat
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: She made him feel again. (Remus/Hermione - OneShot)

(Read More...)

Title: Angel
Words: 8,132
Genre: Romance/Angst
Relationship: Regulus/Hermione
Music: Into Dust – Mazzy Star
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: She was the reason he did what he did. The reason he made the right decision in the end. (Regulus/Hermione)

(Read More...)

Title: His Bookworm
Genre: Romance/Humor
Relationship: Cedric/Hermione
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: She was beautiful when she was ranting... [Cedric/Hermione - OneShot]

(Read More...)

Title: A New Beginning
Pairing: Bill/Hermione
Genre: Romance
Rating: M
Warning(s): Sexual sitatuions, AU
Summary: It was the start of something all them. (Bill/Hermione - OneShot)

(Read More...)

Title: Hard To Get
Genre: Romance/Humor
Relationship: James/Hermione
Music: Coffee Shop - Landon Pigg
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: Lily who? The new girl was… Heart stopping, stutter worthy, and completely ignoring him. (James/Hermione - OneShot)

(Read More...) *Sequel below!

Title: Easy To Keep
Genre: Romance
Relationship: James/Hermione, (side: Remus/Lily)
Music: Best I Ever Had – Vertical Horizon
Rating: M (NC-17)
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: (Sequel to Hard To Get) Despite their rocky start, they were going strong and he didn't plan on letting it end.

(Read More...) *Third part to come!

Title: Her Inner Marauder
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever.
Image(s): Banner made by adelleane4 of The Dark Arts!
Summary: He found her most attractive when she had that gleam in her eye. Mischief galore. [Sirius/Hermione - OneShot]

(Read More...)

Title: The Portrait
Genre: Tragedy/Romance/Angst/Action/Drama
Rating: Mature
Spoilers: All, just to be safe.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever.
Image(s): Banner made by Jeanie, chapter image made by a_contemplator; both of The Dark Arts!
Summary: A tragic death leads Remus and Harry to the unveiling of a portrait of The Blacks. A couple whose love for each other was evidenced even after death. [One Shot Sirius/Hermione]

(Read More...)

Title: Shamelessly
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Rating: M
Warning: Sexual content
Genre: Humor/Romance
Summary: An evening tryst leads Hermione to the conclusion that she and Fred were meant for more than secrecy. All she has to do is let herself say those three words. (Fred/Hermione OneShot)

(Read More...)

Title: Persistence Pays Off
Genre: Romance/Drama/Humor
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None that I can think of...
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever.
Image(s): Banner and chapter photo made by Jeanie of The Dark Arts!
Summary: With the war long over and life going on, Fred finds a distraction and passion for Hermione Granger. His only problem is that she doesn't seem to share the feeling. Despite three and a half years of doing everything he can think of, Fred has been unable to get Hermione to take him seriously. He isn't giving up however; a Weasley perseveres. [Fred/Hermione]

(Read More...)

Title: Mistaken Judgment
Author: atruwriter
Rating: R
Genre: Adventure/Romance/Drama/Angst
Warning(s): Strong Violence, Sexual Content, Coarse Language
Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter related!
Summary: Voldemort has devised what he believes to be a foolproof plan to finally destroy Harry Potter. But when he takes who Harry treasures most, he soon realizes how mistaken he was in his judgment of just what Harry would do for Hermione Granger. [Harry/Hermione]

(Read More...) *Prologue and Six Chapters posted!

Title: While You Were Gone
Author: atruwriter
Pairing: Fred/Hermione
Rating: T
Genre: Romance/Drama/Family
Summary: When Ron and Harry can't assimilate to life after Voldemort, they decide to leave for awhile to find themselves. In the wake of their disappearance, Hermione is lost on her own, only to be found by two of the most unlikely people. Friendship, love, and loyalty were built to a strong degree, but years later, when her former best mates return, life becomes an emotional mess. [Fred/Hermione, Fred/Hermione/George friendship]

(Read More...) *Prologue, three interludes, and two chapters posted!

Title: Just In Case
Author: atruwriter
Genre: Angst/Romance
Rating: T
Images: Banner and chapter image made by Jeanie of The Dark Arts!
Summary: Late one night, Fred seeks Hermione out with the need to speak honestly about the happenings of war. He has but one regret he doesn't wish to die with and Hermione is just the person to help him. [FHr OneShot]

(Read More...)

Title: 9,3,1
Author: atruwriter
Genre: Family/Friendship/Romance
Rating: PG
Note: References to "Just In Case" concerning Fred.
Images: Banner and chapter image made by Jeanie of The Dark Arts!
Summary: The nine Weasleys that love Hermione, the three that wanted more, and the one that vowed forever. [Charlie/Hermione - OneShot]

(Read More...)

Title: An Unorthodox Proposal
Genre: Comedy/Romance
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever. I own only my creative thought process and the characters I make up on a whim. Ownership of all else lies solely in the hands of others.
Images: Banner and chaper image made by Jeanie of The Dark Arts!
Summary: Fred planned exactly what he was going to say, but when it came time to say it, the words came out all wrong. Hermione's got the general idea though. [FHr OneShot]

(Read More...)

Title: The Werewolf Tamer
Author: atruwriter
Character/Pairing: Hermione/Remus
Rating: R
Summary: Three years after a gruesome lost battle, the Wizarding world is left in chaotic limbo. With nobody left, Hermione makes the drastic decision to change the past for a better future. Traveling back to 1976, she builds alliances with the werewolf clans, Marauders, and works toward the ultimate goal
Warnings (if applicable): Spoilers books 1-6, Violence, AU, future sexual situations, strong language, character death
Genre: Romance/Action/Adventure/Angst/Drama
Author's Notes: This completely overlooks DH, it was written long before the book came out. It's my first time travel, but definitely not my first story. I've been writing for years and I've taken I'm taking every precaution to stop it from becoming a cliched piece of trite crap! On that note, I hope you enjoy this.

(Read More...)

Title: Secret Life
Genre: Mystery/Romance/Angst/Drama
Rating: T (Pg-13)
Spoilers: This story is AU after DH.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever. I own only my creative thought process and the characters I make up on a whim. Ownership of all else lies solely in the hands of others.
Images: Banner made by potterfan226, and chapter image made by Alora; both of The Dark Arts!
Summary: When Hermione goes missing, Harry and Ron are called off an Auror mission to find her. Little do they know, that Hermione's life is not all they thought it to be. While trying to save her, they uncover a family they didn't know she had, friendships they had no idea were conceived, and in the middle of it all is one distraught husband, by the name of Draco Malfoy.

(Read More...)

Title: Survivor
Genre: Tragedy/Romance/Drama
Rating: R
Spoilers: I haven't read Deathly Hallows, this story was written before the book came out and I can't say whether or not spoilers are included. As far as I know, no. I doubt JK and I were on the same wavelength.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever. I own only my creative thought process and the characters I make up on a whim. Ownership of all else lies solely in the hands of others.
Images: Chapter image and banner by Alora of The Dark Arts!
Warning: Character death, character suicide - Please do not read unless you are prepared to cry. Very serious content matter!!!
Summary: Waiting. He was always waiting. He'd already buried one best friend and now the other will follow. There was nothing he could do or say. There was no Harry without Hermione. Ron witnessed the beginning and now he must accept the end. HHr. 4-parts

(Read More...)

Title: He Could Always Read Her
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to any Harry Potter whatsoever. I own only my creative thought process and the characters I make up on a whim. Ownership of all else lies solely in the hands of others.
Image(s): Banner made by Moonys Aimee and chapter photo made by Alora of The Dark Arts!
Summary: Harry could always read Hermione's face like a book. Before long he was using her expressions to gauge whether a relationship should end or continue. Finally, he finds the one woman she couldn't possibly deny him. The only woman he's ever loved. Her. [HHr - TwoShot - Complete]

(Read More...)

Title: Only In The World of Dragons
Author: atruwriter
Rating: M
Genre: Romance/Angst/Tragedy/Family
Ship: Charlie/Hermione
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: Charlie Weasley's passion had always been dragons. He thrived on exhileration, adrenaline, and death defying games of dodge the fireball and jump the spiked tail. His life never slowed when he met his girlfriend, however fellow dragon keeper Hermione Granger, gave Charlie a whole new passion: her. But just when their life together finds a new beginning, it all falls apart in a storm of secrets and blood.

(Read More...)

Title: Quidditch Wives
Words: 7,138
Genre: Romance/Humor
Relationship: Oliver/Hermione
Music: Glory Box - Portishead
Rating: M
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Summary: She'd never been much of a fan for the game, but she liked even less the wives that came with it.

(Read More...)

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HAPPY 2008!

2008-01-01T11:54:42Z

Expect more Harry Potter ship discussion in 2008.
Sorry for not posting for a while, Christmas and New Year were hectic.
Wishing everyone a happy 2008. Don't drink to much.

Fandom; Ron/Pansy

2007-12-08T04:35:08Z

So? What do we think about this pairing? I first read this pairing a couple of years ago, when in a fic where Hermione publicly humiliates Ron by breaking up with him and going to Draco, Ron teams up with Pansy to seek revenge and ends up falling in love with her. I think this is the type of relationship they would have if they ever got together. Its sort of the opposite of Draco and Hermione really. Ron is dedicated to helping Harry and Hermione in anything and Pansy is a Slytherin, which totally ruins the pairs chance at a healthy relationship.

What are your thoughts/comments/feelings about this couple?

MOD POST: A Few Things

2007-12-07T12:54:16Z

01. Harry Potter: The Musical
A couple of months ago, a user(deathlyh7212007) posted in spoil_me_dh, a wish to have a Harry Potter Musical made. I am working on that at the moment and am gathering songs for a much needed (and wanted) fanmix for fans, by fans. How it works is simple.

Title of Song: simply let me know what the song is called
Author: who sings the song
Lyrisc link: link to the lyrics would be swell
Situation: how it links to HP. Ie. The final battle, molly and arthur, etc.
Download link: this is not mandatory, but if I cannot find a song, I will ask for a link.

Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson
Situation: Sirius, while in Azkaban
Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
Situation: The Final Battle/Epilogue
Who Wants To Live Forever? (Me!) by Queen
Situation: singing about his horcruxes
Half-Breed by Cher
Situation: the killing of Dumbledore
The Candy Man (from Wlly Wonka)
Situation: Dumbeldore about being gay.
U + Ur Hand by Pink
Situation: Petigrew's silver hand.
I Need A Hero by Bonnie Tyler
Situation: All the Harry/Ginny moments
Fame from "Fame"
Situation: Voldemort hates Harry.
I Feel Pretty by West Side Story
Situation: Lockhart's big number
It's a Little Too Late to Do the Right Thing Now
Situation: The malfoy family theme song
Murder-Reefer Madness the musical
Situation: The final show-down
Over my Head (cable car) The Fray
Situation: Harry's emoness at the end of HBP-beginning of DH
Toucha-Toucha-Touch Me Rocky Horror.
Situation: Bella + Voldie
Easy to Love-Anything Goes
Situation: Harry mooning over Ginny
"Always" by Bon Jovi.
"Tainted Love" the Cure
Situation: Snape's Love for Lily
You're Timeless to Me
Situation: Mollly and Arthur
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02. Voting for new pairings
I have a list of pairings that I will post here in the community, but if you have a pairing that you REALLY want to discuss, then leave a comment in this post and I will see what I can do.

03. 34 members and 44 watchers.
WOW! Thats so many. I can't believe how many people have joined the comm. I'm sure lovetheillusionis happy as well. Thanks for joining and watching guys. Makes us happy to know we're doing someting right.

04. First Ever HP Essy
Posted my first ever Harry Potter essay over at, hp_essays. And let me tell you. Whoo! Most of them all disagreed. But then again, its my own personal opinion. Anyway, if anyone wants to read the essay; WHEN WILL THE FANDOM END?

05. hp_ultimateship weekly news?
How would you guys like it, if I started searching around for fics and arts of the various pairings we talk about (or haven't yet talked about) to share with you all in a weekly newsletter? If you want this, comment.