Can I ask you a question?


She wasn't a secretive person by nature, neither did she feel the urge like most girls her age to gossip. Perhaps if she'd felt closer to the people she considered in kinship, she might have felt guilt for the continuous lies she told. No contrition followed these admissions, and if she were a firm believer of the church, she might have been worried. As it were, her life had changed from that moment the owl swooped through the window.


What she wouldn't give to just be able to fly. To spread those majestic wings and soar above the ground perilously. Her thoughts continued drifting till a small tap reminded just when she has to be ready by.

One tap will mean the Elder has left. Two taps will come when the younger have gone away. Three taps and I will be waiting for you in the parlor. None should disturb us or see us leave.

If she were the closet romantic she longed to be, she would have demanded more brazen acts. What is there in forbidden love if you treat is as such? Where was the risk in partaking in these scandalous acts when there was no chance in being found out? She was and never will be the tawdry romance novel heroin. She was not a secretive person, but far be it for her to let this secret be known.

No one could know that she planned to elope with Sirius Black.


He was a man of great patience. He supposed years of torture and humiliation and confinement would teach him this. In the very least it might've taught him manners, which didn't seem to come along well. He was still uncouthly aware of his current disposition. Those few who knew him- or rather knew he was indeed not a mass murdering sociopath- would say he had a glorious lack of refinement. He preferred to live by the moment, for that was all he had.

Perhaps this is how he found himself tangled in a web of passion and lies. Often times it seemed there were more lies than passion. He wished the deceit was not needful to continue the life he now found he enjoyed more than the one he had long ago. Time seemed to wither away his restraints and morals, he was unscrupulous. He later blamed this line of thinking on the reproving looks his long time comrade but seemingly distant friend would shoot him as he paced. Remus would pop his head around the dingy corner to ask of his health and he would sigh and reply it was restlessness. What an understatement.

Perhaps he indeed had no morals, and this was why he took a young girl into his bed. Even now, several months afterward, with plans of absconding, he felt no trickle of remorse in his gut.

But one Remus Lupin he might have to watch out for.


You just did.


Remus Lupin was no fool. Years of being ostracized cultivated some sixth sense about his surroundings. While he, becoming a werewolf once a month, had extended senses, this was something entirely different. It was an awareness of his atmosphere.

He had felt a bond forming between his friend and former pupil, but his sensible mind insisted it was an affinity of anxiety. He supposed they found comfort in the ailments of the other. It was not unheard of. But when he happened upon a steamy petting session, he had made it his charge to occupy them. He ignored the longing looks shot from both participants as he would ramble on about one subject or another. He realized it was slightly childish to run from confrontations, but he couldn't bring up the subject. What right was it of his to take away his last remaining bloke's happiness?

So he continued to interrupt the raunchy sessions, wishing the guilt wasn't twisting his insides the entire time. Remus knew it was wrong to omit this relationship. He was no fool, but he played the part.


At 5 p.m. on Friday, July 20 1998, Hermione Granger met Sirius Black with a nervous smile dancing on her lips.

"Has everyone left then?" She would ask, shifting a small backpack.

His eyes would darken, but not in hate as he replied. "Remus is reading in the library. Shouldn't hear us leave." He took her hand, cradling it to his chest.

A sigh escapes her mouth in a relieved manner. She tries for a moment to say something, anything, to break the silence that has settled over them. It was not an uncomfortable silence by any means, but an uneasy one. The carefully laid plans seemed they would shatter from the simplicity it took to complete them.

"I know you don't want to leave. But what choice do we have? This war may never end, and I may never gain my innocence back. We may never have freedom. We may be running away, but it is not in cowardice." He would enfold her much smaller body into his, enjoying the first the contact in days. "We'll go to that house to hide out for the night, and quickly leave in the morning. You still have not told me why we cannot just leave the country tonight."

Her smile seemed to come from nowhere, the despair he had seen clouding her eyes lifted with her growing apprehension. "A friend of the family owns a little seaside villa on the coast of East Sussex close to Kent. I haven't visited the beach in so long."

"I'm afraid I haven't got any swim trunks." He says with a tilt of the head.

Hermione would smile and pat the bag still hanging from her shoulder. "Have it all covered."

"Have what all covered?"

A voice intones from the doorway to the parlor, startling both occupants terribly.

"Just planning a trip to the beach is all Professor."

Mr. Lupin would frown softly and say, "You know neither of you are to be leaving anytime soon."

"It's a private beach, Professor. Only the owners of each villa would be there, and not many people would be out at this time." She pleads with only a subtle amount of whining. She knew he was likely to say no and that would mean Sirius and her plans would be ruined once again.

Remus knew his priorities lie with their safety and not their mental well being, but he knew what this imprisonment would eventually lead to. "If you're sure no wizards own land there, I suppose a few hours would not hurt. We will leave in 30 minutes, that way we are guaranteed to get there close to sundown."

Sirius, close to protesting this himself, closed a large hand around Hermione's mouth to calm her. "Of course Remus."

While Mr. Lupin left to gather a few necessities, Hermione turned to her lover of a year with saddened eyes. The questioning air about them clearly stated; how will we get away now?

"Don't worry, luv, we will figure something out."


I'm being serious.


Fredrick Moss wasn't a suspicious person by any means. He lived a homely life, or as homely as one could get driving a taxi, with his wife Patricia. When two elder blokes and one young lass hailed his cab and asked to be taken to East Sussex, he didn't bat an eye. But the increasing tension threatened to suffocate him. How the three strangers in the back didn't mind, was beyond him. He started prattling on about his family as he was wont to do in uncomfortable situations. He talked of his newborn grandson, whose first word was 'pigeon'. The young woman seemed to pay rapt attention, while the older two engaged in a staring contest. Or rather, the blonde bloke stared at the dark haired man whose eyes focused solely on the lass.

He was slightly wary as the neared their destination. This was a rather remote part of East Sussex, he thought suddenly. His nervousness increased as the sandy haired stranger turned to him and sniffed. Fredrick thought it seemed an instinct, and the primal ness of it frightened him.

He would breathe easier as the patrons slid out of the cab, tipping him as he drove away to safety.


Hermione, once they had reached the thirteenth villa on the left side of the second pier, looks at the back porch in a contemplative manner. Her eyes seemed to light up as she reaches for the top of the door, coming a few glorious inches short. "Sirius, could you search up there. I'm positive that's where the key is."

As Sirius reaches up Remus thinks over her words. "Do the owners know your borrowing their villa?"

She would unlock the door before answering in a light tone, "They invite us to stay all the time. Cammie and Mike don't mind me using this house for a few days." She spreads her arms as the door swings open, ushering the two older gentlemen in before herself. She makes a clicking noise in the back of her throat and glances around the sitting room. "The bathroom is down that hall, second door on the right, the master bedroom is connected to it. The spare bedroom is across the hall." She hands the backpack to Sirius and shoves him down the hall. "Are you not going to change Professor?"

He looks to her anxious face and answers her in a soft voice, "I'm not much of a swimmer. I think I'll just read for now."

Hermione heads to the bedroom connected to where Sirius had just entered but asks as she walks away, "How will you read once it gets dark?"

"I've got a lot to think about."


Ask away then, I'm listening.


Sirius smiles to her when she quietly opens the door separating them. But the looks on her face freezes his gentle welcome.

"I think he knows Sirius."

He of course had noticed the way Remus would conveniently interrupt his time with Hermione. "Moony always notices things others miss. He was the one who warned me not to trust Peter." The haunted look that often entered his beautiful eyes did not go unnoticed by his lover.

"Is he a light sleeper?" She would inquire as she hugs him and kisses his jaw.

"On nights near the full moon." He runs his hands over the sides of her lithe body, hungrily kissing her.

Hermione tightens her hands around his neck, pulling her body closer. She breaks away from his mouth for a moment. "We shall steal away in the dead of night then." She starts to unbutton his pants, until his hands stop her desperate attempts.

"We do not have time for it now, luv. When we get where we're going." He pushes her toward the bedroom, patting her bottom as she complied. "We'll make it."

She runs into the room once again before he shuts the door to give him a lingering kiss. "For your sake, you better be right."

He chuckles as she quickly enters the master room.


Mr. Lupin checks his watch to find only fifteen seconds had passed since the last time he had glanced at it. His impatience came from the fact neither of the other occupants had left their designated rooms.

With a small sigh, he stretches in the overly comfy armchair and bends his knees in preparation to stand. He was getting older, and he certainly felt it in that moment. The war, worry about his friends, envy at their happiness. It was not the first time he would feel the cool stab of jealousy swell up in him as he listened to their giggles and chuckles from another room. He played in denial, saying they were only friends and nothing more. It was just fine if they laughed, as friends. Not as lovers.

Yes, Remus Lupin was jealous of his best friend from childhood. He always had been. It was a petty emotion he wasn't going to let ruin Sirius' happiness.

And as the couple stood too close to each other in the mouth of the hallway, he would try to squelch the fire rising in him at rightness of the scene.

Hermione sporting a modest gold bikini, Sirius in red trunks. Red and gold. Gryffindor and Gryffindor. Hermione and Sirius. Sirius and Hermione. HermioneandSirius.

He failed.

"I…" He would stutter, desperately grasping at his sanity. "I think I'll read inside, if that's alright with you."

Hermione smiles warmly and points to a packed bookcase in the corner. "In case you finish your book before we come in, Professor."

Remus scratches his thumb harshly to keep the scathing comment at bay. "Yes, of course, thank you Hermione."

Sirius heads for the glass door as Hermione glances worriedly at her old professor. "You're welcome Remus."

When the reply he had carefully thought over left his lips, neither was there to witness.

Don't do anything rash.


Hermione sits with her back against Sirius' frail chest. She never minded he wasn't perfect, entirely healthy even. She would always take his hand in hers and quip that she definitely wasn't either and besides it made him seem more human. His laugh was weak, but he had tried for her sake. Close to a year after they had started their affair, he was still shy of his body and emotions.

Horrors done unto him still danced beneath the interior, and she was resolved to take it all away. She would make him forget the past; she would become his wife and make his life as easy as she could. In a fit of childish want, she had told him he could either marry her or leave her. Sirius had seemed so frightened of this ultimatum that she almost retracted it. But she kept with it, and breathed easier as he quietly chose to marry her.

She never noticed his saddened face as she leapt into his arms.


What would you do if I died?


Waves of blue danced at his feet, and he felt a weight lifted from his shoulders. He would marry the woman he loved in a day and then he would live a life free of prejudice, hatred, fear and angst.

And as suddenly as that weight had lifted it came crashing back down. He didn't want to leave everyone behind. Especially Harry. He didn't want to leave him to fight the war by himself. He was Harry's only father figure, and it tore his heart to imagine every night the pained look that would enter his godson's face at the news of his disappearance.

Sirius felt his heart break as the imagined look warped even more when the news of Hermione being gone, possibly kidnapped.

Moony would tell them it was all right. But how would he know? He wasn't supposed to have let them leave the house. Remus would be left to questioning, and if it were anyone else besides Dumbledore running the Order, persecution.

Even with his heart shattered, he would glance at her happy, worry free face and knew he could leave it all behind. But he would live a life of regret.

He would never be able to forget the look on Harry's face, imagined or not.


Hermione leans back from her husband, the smile never leaving her face. She was glad that it was over, now they could live a peaceful life. They would find some remote rural place in America where the plane leaving in an hour would take them.

"Thank you Sirius."

His slightly confused smile fell away with a banging of the church doors. He pushes her behind him on instinct, withdrawing her wand.

In the doorway stood a black clad figure. Deatheater or no, he still had a wand drawn and pointed at the newly instated husband and wife.

Hermione looks down at her plain white dress, wishing the moment could have lasted longer. "I love you Sirius." His head tilts only slightly in acknowledgement.

The figure bellowed the killing curse as the young woman leapt in front of her husband.

Sirius realized this too late, having cast the same curse to his opponent. As both white and black fell, he thought that's how it'll always end up. Good may appear to have a hand over evil, but they cannot cancel each other out. Pure cannot exist without taint.

Two more men enter, presumably to check on the first. They see a man kneeling over a still and pale woman. Even as they shout the words that would end his life, he can't help but remember his unknowing promise.


I'd die without you.


Horribly Shakespearian. Please leave some reviews, I'm a feedback h0r.