Promise to the Past | 🐾 ᴍᴀʀᴀᴜᴅᴇʀs ✓

34 | I Open at the Close

*Rated M for explicit sexual content towards the end of the chapter- read at your own discretion!

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ・☽ ༓ ☾・  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶  ̶̶̶̶

-- POTTER MANOR

Sirius woke the next morning to find the spot beside him on the bed empty and cold. He groaned, sitting up on the edge of the bed with a great heave. Looking down, his fingers ghosted over his ribs where he'd been hit with a hex the night before- though curse would be a better word for it. Nothing was remaining- no pain, no scar, no trace.

"You're up," a relieved voice filtered through his thoughts.

He looked up, an automatic smile climbing his face. Hermione stood at the door, fully dressed. Knowing her, she'd likely been up for a while now.

"How are you feeling?" She asked in concern, walking over to him, her eyes hovering over his unblemished torso.

Sirius wrapped his long fingers around her wrist, smoothly pulling her onto his lap, savoring the warmth of her entire back molded to his front. He tucked chin on to her shoulder peacefully. "Better than I have in ages," he admitted. The completion of their bond had not only healed his injuries, but they'd also reenergized him in ways he hadn't even realized he needed. His old wounds no longer ached, and his mind felt blissfully at peace.

"Do you feel it too?" Hermione asked quietly, relaxing back against him without a fight.

He knew instantly what she was talking about. Since the moment they'd completed the bond, he'd felt his normal state of existence heighten sharply- his magic was more active and more easily at his disposal than ever before, like it could burst through his fingertips at the slightest command. He could also feel Hermione as a distant but comforting extension to himself, awareness of her life and breath bringing him a visceral relief.

"Hmm..." He nodded, his arms tightening around her waist.

"It's like a warm blanket in the winter," she whispered softly, her fingertips dancing over his hands. "Or a cool breeze in the summer."

That immediate sense of comfort and relief that made you lower your guard.

"It feels like home," Sirius told her.

He could feel Hermione tense in his arms before she all but melted into his embrace.

"I didn't think I'd find a home here," Hermione admitted quietly. "I didn't think it'd be possible."

"You have more of a home than I ever did," he told her. His disheartening words prompted her to look back at him curiously.

"What do you mean?" Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"I haven't had homes as much as I've had shelters in my life," Sirius sighed. "Grimmauld was never home- it was my own personal hell. Hogwarts was a sanctuary if anything- but still a school. Even my flat now is more a functional place for me to sleep and exist than a home, or at least it was before it was set alight."

"But your friends," Hermione turned in his embrace, touching one hand to his cheek as her heart went out to him. "Your friends are your family."

"They are," Sirius smiled, his affection for his friends unmistakable. "The year I lived with the Potters was the only time I would say I had a home. But when James's parents died, he eventually married and moved in with Lily. It just left me on my own, you know?"

Hermione brushed her thumb across his lip in contemplation before she voiced the thought she might've been too afraid to even a few weeks ago. "I'll be your home," she offered quietly. "If you'll be mine."