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Parallel Dilemma	By : MJurjevic Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 8115 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter fandom, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Parallel Dilemma   by nagandsev
Chapter Seven: Relations
Summary: Sirius hesitates, leaves, and Hermione goes after him to help rid him of his ghosts—nothing a little loving healing won’t cure, so she thinks… But will it worsen their dilemma?
A/N: *Regulus’ note to Voldemort, from J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (2007). My greatest gratitude to the one and only Proulxes for her alpha/beta work on this story and her unconditional friendship and patience.

                                                     oOoOoOo

Hermione kissed Sirius with an urgency she never knew existed.

Reciprocating just as needily then breaking for breath, he cupped her cheek and covered her face with featherlight kisses before claiming her lips lightly with his own.

Her fingers grasped and clenched at his bathrobe: she needed to touch him, feel him. She ran her fingers through his hair and then discovered the contour of his neck, shoulders—her fingertips grazed under the opened robe's cloth, feeling the heat and sculpted form of his torso. She started to slowly open the robe further, following his heat, going lower.

Suddenly, Sirius broke off the kiss, pressing his forehead against hers; noses touched, their breath warmly panting against each other. Hermione felt herself melding into him; she touched his face, ran her fingers over the stubble on his chin and lightly outlined his tickly moustache.

"Sirius," she whispered softly and pressed again against his lips with hers, insisting that they continue.

"You’re going to break my heart," he whispered and paused, giving her an odd look, and abruptly stood up, running his hand through his hair.

What? She didn’t understand what he was doing or saying. Hermione rocked backwards on the bed, adrenaline pumping through her system making her lightheaded with surprise.

"It’s going to break my heart," he uttered, correcting himself. He looked away from her, closing and tightening the robe around him. "But if I truly want to help you at this moment, if I truly want to make you happy, I need to—" He seemed suddenly unable to look her in the eye and glanced around the room as if searching for something. He inexplicably took his wand and waved it around in an S-shape. "Knowing my notorious family as I do, there might just be some good to come out of this—Revelio!"

There was the slightest pause before Hermione heard thumping and thudding in various degrees of loudness throughout the house, as if objects were unable to get out of confined spaces.

"Hidden objects sealed away in the house." He seemed to not know exactly what further to say about his actions and awkwardly suggested, "Eat something, freshen up—rest a bit if you wish. I need to find something. I’ll be in one of the other rooms if you need me."

And with that, he left.

What the hell is wrong? How could he stop like that? Why? What does he mean that he needs to find something? He needs to—What did he mean I’m going to break his heart? She sat back against the pillowed headboard, exasperated. Wasn’t I showing him how I feel about him—what kind of woman does he think I am?

She sat there struggling with her emotions, whether to go after him and demand what was going on in that impulsive, erratic brain of his or if to wait until he returned before confronting him. As her stomach rumbled softly, and she glanced at the dry blood stains on her clothing, she calmed a bit and decided to collect her thoughts more. However, she could barely concentrate on anything other than asking herself, What is wrong? I know Sirius wants me—and yes, I want him, as I’ve never wanted anyone or anything in my life before! She was trembling from the feeling that had enveloped her.

She was so flustered and confused that she barely registered eating something.

She barely registered showering and dressing in the undergarments and old Muggle tracksuit she found in the other Hermione’s wardrobe.

She barely registered grasping her wand and leaving the room in search of him, determined to find out why he had rejected her clear intentions to fully reciprocate.

Hermione only knew that she had climbed the stairs to the top floor and had entered Sirius’ old bedroom: a single lit sconce showed that no one was there, but a refurbished and familiar Gryffindor look surrounded her. Even the old posters of Muggle girls on motorbikes still hung unmoved, permanently stuck to the wall, accenting which of the Black brother’s room this truly was. Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the posters’ defiant symbolic stance as she left and slowly gravitated to the door opened directly across the hall with the sign ‘Regulus Arcturus Black’ nailed upon it.

She entered quietly, and in the soft light she called for him.

"Sirius?"

She found him sitting on a small settee, a pile of books and trinkets on the floor beside it. He was wiping his eyes with the lower palm of one hand, holding a framed picture in his other.

Hermione swiftly took in this Regulus’ room: it had been converted from the younger brother’s bedroom, formerly strewn with his family’s crest and Slytherin décor, photos and articles about the Dark Lord and his followers hanging all over the walls. Now it was a somber, austere study of sorts: half a sitting parlour, half of it shelved with books from the floor to the ceiling.

She saw on the wall of the sitting area where Sirius was that the entire wall was covered with framed pictures of varying sizes and shapes along with several parchments. As she walked closer, she glanced over the photos and became mesmerized by the figures of Albus Dumbledore, Fred Weasley, Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Colin Creevey, and so many others. Her focus kept coming back to several photos that had the moving forms or blinking eyes of other unexpected but familiar faces that made her chest burn with a heavy, maudlin emotion. There’s Nymphadora, Remus… and Professor Snape!

She slowly crossed over and sat down beside Sirius. They both gazed silently at the wall, but she could feel his turmoil evoked from the assemblage of those deceased.

His pain is my pain; his loss is my loss—ours!

She felt an uncontrollable yearning to touch him, kiss him, be with him. Be one with him.

"It’s a private collage of loved ones, a war memorial of sorts… A commemoration to those fallen or who have passed away," remarked Hermione in a quiet voice.

"Yes."

"May I?"

Sirius showed her the picture he held so tightly. She gasped at the three figures in it.

Two easily recognizable adolescent wizards, James Potter and Sirius, seemed to be urging on the photographer to take the photo while the third person standing on the teenage Sirius’ other side, a tall, scowling youth with black hair and grey burning eyes, was staring balefully foreword. The sullen youth was slightly hunched, arms crossed tightly over his lean chest, as if he was in pain.

Harry’s father, Sirius, and… Regulus? She was confused by the incongruousness of the three of them ever being together and asked, "When was this taken?"

She watched Sirius’ eyes narrow. "It was… right before he disappeared. That year—the last time I saw him… Well, the last time I saw him alive. Only a few photos remain. Lily took this one. I was living at the Potter’s. I knew Regulus was deep in it—but I had also heard through the grapevine that he wanted to leave…"

Sirius was struggling with attempting to make light of it contrary to what he appeared to be feeling at that moment, saying, "I still wanted to protect the little git, even though he had rejected me, despised me, and renounced me being his kin, his brother."

"I don’t believe that, Sirius. He didn’t despise you." She squeezed his hand encouragingly. "I believe he was scared, alone, understood too late how diabolical Voldemort and his followers were, wanted to get out, but couldn’t. I think he did what he could and kept face to protect his family—his brother. If Voldemort knew he had the slightest feelings of care for you, he would have used it against both of you in the most despicable ways. Believing that both of you had become meaningless to one another worked—it satisfied and didn’t attract Voldemort’s attention further."

"I could have, should have protected him more, but it didn’t happen," argued Sirius, visibly troubled. "The Potters offered to give my brother a safe house until we could arrange to sneak him out of the country, out of the radar of Voldemort’s followers, the Ministry’s radar—away from my parents reach. Regulus agreed to meet me, but… Something happened. He didn’t meet me later at the clandestine rendez-vous point agreed upon. He never showed. At the time, I took his no show as a final answer of where he had decided his true loyalties lie or that he had turned tail at the crucial time… It was only much later, years later that the truth came out."

Hermione took his free hand into her own, covering it protectively. "Regulus did a great thing. An incredibly brave deed, Sirius. Without his sacrifice all those years ago, we wouldn’t have been able to defeat Voldemort. Everyone’s contribution was needed and vitally helped our cause—sacrificing his life like that." She kissed Sirius softly on the cheek. "The ultimate sacrifice for those he loved." She gave him a soft smile. "Well, that’s your true brother, that was the true Regulus, wasn’t it?"

Sirius held her gaze and whispered, "Yes." He lightly kissed her on the lips before deepening it.

Catching himself once again, he stopped, and she saw him make a decision to redirect his focus. "I found something relevant although not exactly what you want." He picked up a book from the pile and showed her its title: A Translation of Herpo the Great’s Treatises of Fundamental Magical Truths.

"I’ll look at it, later." At that very moment, she couldn’t give a fuck about Herpo the Foul. Sirius, on the other hand, she was very concentrated on.

"Sirius, you need to make peace with Regulus’ memory, with yourself. You are proud of him, aren’t you? He did what he felt he had to do. He was true to himself at the end, to you—he protected his family the only way he knew how with the choices he had before him. He was truly a noble brother in blood and deed."

"In the end, of course I am proud of him. Just… what a miserable, fucking life he had. Growing up in this madhouse."

Hermione became acutely aware of the myriad of eyes watching them from the vast array of pictures, and she instinctively wanted to be alone with Sirius is his intimate state.

"Sirius, come with me." She needed to get him out of the somber room. "We’ll take the book and look through it; we can come back here later and go through more things."

She tugged him gently up, and he paused for a moment, saying, "Let me just—"

Sirius placed the picture back on the wall where it hung beside the framed note by Regulus to Voldemort found in the fake Horcrux so long ago:

To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more."
R.A.B.*

Sirius took a deep breath and said, "Regulus, Snape… Sacrificing themselves at all cost under the guise as Voldemort’s followers. Fuck it all… Who knew? Rest in peace." He grabbed the Dark book about Herpo’s treaties and stared at the pile consisting of other dubious family belongings.

"Sirius, come." She took and tugged his hand again gently, leading him out of the room.

As they entered the corridor, their hands gripped each other’s tighter, and Hermione felt a surge of uncontrollable longing and guided Sirius not down the stairs but directly back across the hall, leading him into the center of his old room.

Sirius became hesitant, even though his eyes were burning with emotion, mumbling, "My old sanctum sanctorum…"

Hermione locked eyes with him and ran a hand up his chest and through his hair, guiding his head downward. “Exactly.”

Her lips met his, seeking and demanding that he reciprocate her need. Our need…

"Hermione, are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky and low.

She pressed against his sculpted form; her eyes losing themselves in his grey ones as she slowly caressed his body with her hand lower and lower, down his side, near and around his groin, intentionally not touching his erection.

She heard the book fall to the floor. Wands fell from pockets sporadically as they began to move synchronically towards the bed.

"Sirius," whispered Hermione urgently as he swept her hair back and kissed her neck, his soft mustache tickling her sensitive skin, causing her to tremble uncontrollably, driving her mad. She moaned and undulated as his hands felt and caressed her body, moved with her, held her and followed her movements, both swaying and losing themselves into each other.

Their slow dance of love-making turned quickly into a frantic fandango.

All of the frustration and insanity that they were existing in, experiencing in the here and now exploded, and all Hermione was aware of was Sirius; their bodies melded together, grinding into each other, leaving no parts of each other untouched.

Hermione felt the back of her legs hit the bed, and in the next second, they had tumbled onto the mattress, she rolling on top of him, covering his face with urgent kisses. Sirius nipped and sucked at her neck in between his heated whisperings of "Hermione". Both of their dominant wills challenged and tested the other one’s out until Hermione decisively sat up straddling Sirius, panting hard. Her fingers grabbed the bathrobe’s belt and unknotted it in quick, determined movements. She heard his breathing become pronounced as she pulled both belt and robe away from his body.

Their eyes met as she reached out and slowly began tracing the mosaic of tattoos and scarred wounds marking his sinewy, sculpted form. Her fingertips traced down the soft tufts of hair of his treasure trail until she reached his lovely cock. She delicately traced its warm firmness and continued on, feeling over his defined thighs and back again to his notable, hardened manhood.

Hermione gazed at him, curious and admiring, her cheeks burned as her eyes met his again.

"Come to me," he pleaded softly.

She slowly lowered herself; her clothed thighs brushed his erect cock's tip as she stretched upwards, meeting his mouth. Her fingertips outlined his rugged jaw-line as their mutual kisses searched and demanded union.

In a delicious haze, Hermione felt Sirius' fingertips exploring her breasts, searching for the opening to her top and, finding none, impatiently grabbing her buttocks, nudged her hips to move forward. She undulated at his insistence, rolling her hips, pressing against his full erection.

Apparently, it was his undoing because she was flipped onto her back, her top pulled up and over her head. She clumsily undid her brassiere as he lowered his head, his mouth capturing one of her nipples, rolling his tongue around and sucking its hardened point while his hands slipped lower to tug her tracksuit trousers down. Eager to be unencumbered by clothing, the cool air hit her exposed flesh as she helped him pull and take them off.

His fingers grazed over the soft damp cloth of her knickers left and continued to slowly explore around and between her legs. As his fingers gently felt underneath the moist material, she heard Sirius moan softly as he discovered how abundant her wetness was. All thoughts of extraneous foreplay seemed to disappear, and he peeled her knickers down, tossing them aside.

Ever so gently, he lowered his head and pressed his lips on her vaginal ones, slowly increasing the pressure with circular motions; the feel of his tongue lapping out strategically over her clit caused a tingling sensation to burst from her core throughout her body, down to the tips of her toes and throughout her breasts.

He broke from this position, impulsively rising upwards, nipping and licking her abdomen, naval, ribs, breasts on the way—on and upward she felt his ministrations until he reached her awaiting lips that met his with a crushing kiss. Her hands felt his flexing muscles down his back to his buttocks, urging him on until her fingers found and stroked the length of his shaft, stroking him slowly up and down, up and down in an erratic rhythm until she began to pump him in smooth, even strokes. He huffed in between uttering soft expletives. Responding to her will, he pressed his body between her legs spreading for him. She felt his cock’s tip, seeking entrance, and heard Sirius’ barely audible, "Please, Hermione…"

"Yes!" she answered and clutched him to her with all her strength, encouraging him to enter her, relishing the feeling of his burning weight pressing down on her. Her breasts were rubbing against his firmness and heat, and she continued to cling to his lean muscular form, her fingers memorizing every inch of him as she felt downward and pressed against his buttocks to her. She could feel the tip of his cock placed in the centre of her wet heat, but he was delaying, rubbing his knob’s end teasingly around her labial folds, poking and pressing against her clit before gradually guiding it back to her vaginal entrance. Her moans were soft and suppressed, waiting for him to plunge inside her. Her muscles clenched in anticipation as she felt Sirius cup her buttocks, and she cried out with release as he slowly pushed the head inside her, sheathing half his cock within her tight, wet heat.

He stopped, gasping, "Fuck, Hermione, you’re so tight, love."

He pulled out slowly, and she whispered impatiently, "Sirius," only to be cut off as a bolt of pleasurable sensation coursed through her feeling his lips firmly nip and suck at her sensitive skin on her neck, the whiskers causing her to tremble again uncontrollably as they pricked and tickled her. Then her mind went blank as she felt him begin to tease her sex with his skilled fingers. All she knew was him caressing her folds, then carefully inserting first one and then a second finger inside her. His burning mouth continued to plant kisses, lowering his head downward again until she whimpered with a breathless mewl, his tongue searching ardently between her vaginal lips and finding her most sensitive nub. His sucking and swirling intensified even as he guided her to lift one leg and place it over her shoulder. She grasped and clawed at his shoulders to brace herself as her body undulated and curled beyond her control.

"Oh, oh my god," she cried in breathless delight, feeling waves of pleasure rolling over her body, building in intensity as he suckled her clit; he was holding one hand placed behind and under her buttocks as the other held and braced her firmly in place. He lapped and sucked, swirling his tongue harder and faster, burrowing into her rhythmically and then back around and on her clitoris, urging her to come, his tongue jutting down and around her swollen nub, tongue fucking her hard without mercy. "Oh, fuck… fuck…," she gasped and gave over to the all consuming sensation, climaxing.

She continued to shudder from his ministrations and abandoned all rational thought as she gave in to and luxuriated in the myriad of physical sensations she was riding at the moment. She was only aware of him continuing to kiss and lick around her sex and inner thighs, alternating between placing soft love bites and swirly licks here and there. His fucking, wonderful moustache will be the death of me! she thought, shuddering again in climax at its titillating sensation. As her breathing began to slowly become more normal, he paused to look up at her, gauging her pleasure for several seconds before huskily saying, "I could do this all night. What do you want?"

Breathing heavily, she curled up enough to trace his lips with a fingertip and whispered, "You. Now."

Eagerly complying, he positioned himself again, the tip of his cock placed in her wet heat’s entrance.

She lifted her hips, pressing against him, and not needing any more encouragement, Sirius pushed inside her burning wetness, sheathing himself deep within her heat. He drew in his breath sharply and then slowly moved his hips around, his cock being pushed deeper within her, allowing her body to adjust to his size. She gasped and mewled as he proceeded to slowly pull out of her only to then thrust deeper each time, in controlled, steady motions. She dug her fingers into his back, his rhythmic thumping pace steadily increased, each fucking motion, hard and urgent, inward and upwards, deeper and deeper.
Something opened inside her, a flood of need and longing. Hermione gave over to the sensation and began to meet his thrusts, their rhythms slapping flesh against flesh, the grinding thrusts grew wilder and wilder. Her vaginal muscles began to clench and tighten around his cock, and he gave over to pounding madly into her sex. She held onto him, her fingers grasping where they could to brace herself, trying to meet his vigorous thrusting. But as the feeling of both of their bodies tightening was mounting in an exquisite pain, his huffs of exertion mixed with her cries as a mounting climax impelled them frantically on.

Hermione cried out in wild abandonment as his thrusting increased in dizzying speed and force. She felt her vaginal muscles begin to clamp him even tighter and faster, signaling her unstoppable, oncoming climax. He seemed to feel this intensely, as she heard him moan anew, and their mutual pace of fucking began to blur any known sensibilities of speed. She clenched her eyes from the intensity, seeing flashes of purple and red; her only other awareness was of his thrusting and pounding into her in a blissful rapture of rhythm.

Suddenly, he hit an exquisite, raw spot deep, deep within her, and she froze in ecstasy, crying out, Sirius! Her toes curled and her body shook. Convulsing in orgasm, she clawed and clung to him for life. As her fingernails marked his back, a searing bolt seemed to shoot through him, and in rapid, fervent pulses, he stiffened and spent himself, coming deep inside her.
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Parallel Dilemma