Fic: Combinatorics part 3

[shetiger]

Combinatorics, part 3. Cont from here.



The term asymptotic means approaching a value or curve arbitrarily closely (i.e., as some sort of limit is taken).

She tucked the note in her pocket, then set about finding the owl treats. Hermione hummed in disgust as she noticed they were almost out; Harry was supposed to pick up more the last time he went into Hogsmeade. Of all the people to forget.

"Post?"

She turned and smiled at Ron, then scattered the remaining treats in front of the Great Horned owl perched on the window sill.

"Just something I'm working on," she told him. It wasn't a lie, not really. More like an oversimplification of a problem for someone who couldn't grasp the entirety of the equation. "Were you expecting something?"

Ron shrugged, then walked to the refrigerator. He stood with the door open, staring at the contents like an exhibit at an art gallery. "No, not really."

She frowned. "Not really?"

He sighed, then slammed the door shut. He turned to her with a wry smile. "I was hoping to hear from my mum."

"Oh," she said, a bit stupidly. Her own relationship with Molly hadn't been stellar since the war. Hermione had always felt like Molly held the breakup against her. "Something up?"

Ron dropped onto the kitchen stool. "No, nothing more than usual. I just wish..."

"Yes?"

"I don't know," he sighed. "This whole thing with Sirius has really turned her upside down, you know? I don't think she ever really liked him very much."

Hermione snorted. "He does seem to inspire either love or hate rather strongly, doesn't he?"

Ron smiled. "He claims it's a Black thing." His smile fell, his eyes turning thoughtful. "She's been so resentful lately. I mean, I wish Dad were alive, too, but that doesn't mean I'm not glad Sirius came back."

She nodded. She noticed he didn't mention Percy, but decided to leave that untouched. "You shouldn't feel bad about that," she told him.

"I don't," Ron assured her. "I just wish she could be happy. That she..."

He trailed off again, and this time Hermione had a guess to where his thoughts led. "That she remembered she has six wonderful children still alive?"

He nodded slowly, eyes on the floor. She reached across the table for his hand.

"She drives me mad, but I still love her. I don't know what to do."

"I don't either," she told him. "Maybe with time. I don't think there's anything you can do, though."

He sighed again, then squeezed her hand. "I know." He smiled up at her, a very Weasley grin that never failed to make her wary. "We could get married, that would make her happy."

She snatched her hand back and smacked him on the nose. "What did you put in the coffee this morning, Ronald? Or has Harry driven you round the bend?"

He laughed, and something relaxed inside that she hadn't known was tense. It was a very good thing that they were at a point in their lives where they could joke about their failed relationship. They were much better friends, and that was that.

"Just the beans," he said as he rose from the table. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then walked toward the door. "And a bit of something the twins sent me," he called as he ducked through the doorway.

She tossed off a mild hex at his retreating back, but she was laughing too hard for it to take. She giggled for a bit longer, leaving her feeling rather peaceful afterward. She did wish she could help Molly in some way, but she thought the problem was beyond her amateur skills. Besides, she was already busy enough with Sirius and Remus.

Speaking of which. Hermione pulled the flattened note from her back pocket and unrolled it.

"Miss Granger," and they were back to formalities again, were they? "As you so eloquently stated recently, the past is in the past. At the present I find it necessary to look to the future." She blinked, trying to untangle the meaning in that before reading on. "As such, will it suit to continue our meetings as before? I am still engaged in finding a resolution to the situation in question." It was signed simply "Severus", which confused her to no end.

After a minute of pondering, she sat back with a contented smile. Perhaps it was too much to hope he had taken her words to heart, but at least he was ready to move beyond his anger. Her impudence was forgotten, if not forgiven.

Well. She had work to do. Severus would be expecting her report.

A proof or demonstration is said to be rigorous if the validity of each step and the connections between the steps is explicitly made clear in such a way that the result follows with certainty.

Hermione sighed as she saw a form stir on the back porch. She had come down for a midnight snack, bored with her current article. The sloppiness of some people! It made her angry just to think that those conclusions were published. Peer review, indeed. She shook her head, aware that her frustration accomplished nothing. Instead, she forwent her snack and decided to brave the man sulking in her darkened yard.

Sirius was in human form, leaning against the porch rail as he studied the stars. He looked at her with a sad smile, light from the crescent moon glinting off the whites of his eyes. She walked to his side, trying to figure out what he was so interested in.

"There's me," he said, the line of his arm and finger as sharp and sure as any pointer.

The star blinked brightly. It was one she knew well from her very first astronomy lessons, back when her father had introduced her to his passion for the night sky. She smiled at the memory, then turned to study Sirius the man.

His shoulders were rolled inward, giving him a hunched and defeated look that she only remembered from that summer at Grimmauld Place. Before, though he was starved and ragged and nearly mad, he had been filled with the fire of righteousness. Now he only looked empty, as if his whole reason for existing had been sucked out of him.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

He shrugged.

"Sirius, why don't you tell me what's going on? Maybe I can help."

He turned to her with that sad little smile again. "What's going on? I'm just looking at the stars, Hermione."

She huffed in exasperation. "You know very well what I mean." She calmed herself, and then tried again in a softer, gentler tone. "Why are you so...down?"

She elided the other d-words: depressed and desperate and dark and maybe even delusional. The crickets chirped as she waited for an answer, hoping that for once the direct approach would serve her purpose.

"Oh, Hermione," he sighed. "It's so very much to put on your shoulders."

"I'm stronger than I look, Sirius. And who better? Harry?"

She knew that would prick his conscience, because the one thing they very much had in common was their desire to protect Harry from all the ills the world might yet provide.

"You learned how to fight dirty," he said, admiration in his tone. There was much about him that could be Slytherin. Then a breeze gusted around them, lifting the curls of his hair like a wild mane, and she remembered his wild, impulsive bravery. He took a deep breath, and that courage came through. "It's just so much, Hermione. The world is so different, and I don't know who I am."

Finally. She felt a small burst of triumph before panic took over. She had no idea what to say, how to draw him out further. So instead she stepped forward, brushing his hand with her own, hoping the physical contact would urge him onward. He took her hand, lacing their fingers together loosely.

"When I first got out of Azkaban," he started quietly, "I was more than a little insane. They take so much, you know. You lot should have done away with me then for your own good."

"No, Sirius, no," she protested.

He smiled and brought her hand up to brush with his lips. "Too bloody Gryffindor, all of you."

He returned to watching the stars, and she wondered what to say. She snuggled in closer to his side, thinking that Sirius responded well to affection.

"There was so much of me missing when I got out, but I didn't even realize it. I was so focused on revenge, on protecting Harry, that nothing else really mattered. And then I just kept thinking about keeping Harry safe and staying alive."

She made a small noise of understanding, not wanting to interrupt his flow of words.

"Then I had that awful idea. I was so intent on making sure he stayed safe, finding a way to end the war as soon as possible, that I didn't even think about how it would be, locked up in that place again."

"I'm so sorry," she murmured. "None of us really understood, back then."

Sirius shrugged. "Well, it's not like I wanted you to understand. You had so much more on your minds than young people should have. And I behaved like a terrible lout."

He turned towards her, bringing up a hand to pull at one of the curls that had sprung loose from where it was piled on top of her head. Then he stepped away, fading into the shadows of the night.

"Now, I can see everything. My whole life is meaningless. All I've done is hurt people with my very existence."

"Sirius! That's not true-we,"

"Don't, Hermione. Don't coddle me. I'm a failure as a human being, that much I know. And really, the only thing I really ever tried at, being a godfather for Harry, well I failed at that worse than anything else."

Tears were starting to prick her eyes, and she wasn't sure how to argue with him. She tried anyway.

"Harry loves you very much-"

"Because that's Harry's nature. But what have I done for him? Scared the bejeezus out of you lot third year? Gave him a bunch of bollocksy advice a few other times? The biggest way I affected his life was by dying. I'm sure that did wonders for his psyche."

Hermione sniffed as a few tears escape, her heart tugged by the despair in his voice more than his self-pitying words. She gathered her composure and her thoughts, then stepped close to him once again.

"Sirius. You may not have been with him for long, but you gave Harry so very much. You gave him love and support, something he needed so very badly then. And he loves you for you, Sirius. Not because he owes you something, or because he's supposed to, or because it's just his nature. Because he finds you worthy of love."

Sirius cleared his throat, the sound loud and rough amongst the soft creak of insects beyond them.

"I just feel so dead inside," he whispered hoarsely. "Like the man is gone, and I'm just a hunk of rotting skin."

"Oh, Sirius," she soothed, pulling him into a hug. He clung to her tightly, and she knew that he was more than he thought himself. She just didn't know how to convince him. She pulled back just a little, studying his face. His eyes were closed, damp streaks shining along the valleys of his cheeks, glittering in drops on his trimmed beard.

Struck with a sudden impulse, she leaned up against his chest and kissed him.

His eyes flew open, pale, pale blue almost swallowed by the black of his pupils, and she thought she had made a mistake. But instead of pushing her away, he reached up and brushed her cheek.

"Oh, sweet Hermione," he murmured. "You have no idea what you do."

She swallowed, weighing her options in the length of a breath. Yes, this was a mistake, a terribly bad idea, but she thought it might be the best bad idea she'd ever had. She leaned forward again, lingering against the softness of his lips.

His hand curled around the base of her skull, pulling her deeper into him. Sirius Black might have spent most of his life in desperate isolation, but his kissing skills didn't lack because of it. She moaned deeply as his tongue licked at her lips, as his teeth nibbled her neck and ear lobe. She returned the favor, burying her face against his neck, just inhaling his scent. She had noticed it before, but now it was nearly overwhelming, salty and sweet with a hint of patchouli and rose. She nipped just below the edge of his beard, and he growled out a moan.

She was intent on producing that sound again when he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back. She blinked, trying to regain her equilibrium.

"Hermione...I. What?" He stopped and took a deep breath. "Are you sure?"

She smiled, slow and seductive and sultry, the confidant woman inside her coming to the fore. This might be a very bad idea in the larger scheme of things, but she'd always had a thing for Sirius Black. Hermione had got very good at holding onto the things she wanted.

"Oh, I'm very, very sure," she purred, and part of her was rejoicing in the fact that she didn't sound ridiculous doing so. The other part was taking his hand and leading him inside, leading him to his own bedroom.

There was an awkward moment after he closed the door. She cast a silencing charm, then slid off her slippers. For a moment she wished she was wearing one of her sexy teddies, but he'd seen her worse than this. Thank God she had shaved her legs that morning.

Sirius was completely intent on her, his eyes bright in the shadowed room as she slipped her nightgown off her shoulders. She had a little pooch at the middle, a result of too many sweets and books, but she felt comfortable with her body. Sirius caught his breath, and that made her last little bit of nerves fall away. She swept the clip out of her hair, letting it tumble down in a dramatic gesture, and stepped forward.

He sank both hands into her hair, capturing her mouth in a kiss that went on and on, leaving her panting and wobbly when he broke away. She clung to him, then started to unbutton his shirt once she calmed a little. She paused as she saw the faded tattoos. The runes made little sense to her. She simply traced them with her tongue as her fingers continued their task. He had good muscles on his chest, though she could tell he used to have more. His skin was smooth except for the soft black line of hair that started at his belly. She brushed over it, almost compulsively, and his skin twitched under her hand.

Sirius took control then, kissing her quickly before leading her to the bed. He gently nudged her to lie down, then slipped his pants off. He was hard, and she tried to touch him as he crawled towards her, but he caught her hand and urged her to lie back down.

"It's been a long time, sweets. Let me see if I remember the basic steps first," he said with a wink.

Hermione smiled back at him, then caught her breath as he captured her nipple between his teeth. He moved on to her belly, nipping and licking as his hands crept up to her breasts. He barely brushed her nipples with the pads of his fingers, setting her on fire. She arched her back, silently begging for more.

He left her stomach alone, looking up with a gleam in his eye. Suddenly he started kneading both of her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples as he gently squeezed and massaged the surrounding flesh. She felt wild, uninhibited, energy zinging through her skin and making her want to thrash and moan. Incredibly, she thought she might have an orgasm from this alone, but then he let go and backed down her body. She whimpered.

Then his tongue was on her, warm and wonderfully wet, circling and stroking and pulling her tighter and tighter. She was getting closer and closer, and then he dipped down to thrust his tongue inside her. It was too much and not enough and she was panting wildly.

"Sirius," she moaned, begging him for something to finish her off. He returned to her clit, his tongue flicking strongly over and over and then the rhythm started, shivers quaking at her center, pulling and tightening and moving outward as she came and came. He slowed down just a little, letting her peak fade naturally into something soothing and satisfying.

She was still coming down when he moved up her body and entered her.

She couldn't breathe for a moment as she clenched around him, feeling both stretched and on the edge once again. Hermione looked up into his face, hovering close to her own. His eyes were nearly translucent, and they were focused on her like she was the only thing in the universe. As she relaxed, Sirius started to move, small little thrusts that spark all over her body, building and building and building and she just wanted more.

"Sirius," she moaned again.

He picked up the pace, withdrawing and then pushing in fast and hard. She tilted her hips and wrapped her legs around his back, and it was enough to set her off. Her body convulsed, lifting her head off the mattress as she lost all control. His arms scooped under her shoulders and he thrust one last time, deep, holding her close as they ground into each other. She felt him pulse inside as he groaned.

Slowly they relaxed against each other, regaining their breath. Their bodies were slick with sweat and the semen between her thighs. She felt glorious, the weight of Sirius on top of her real and warm. Eventually he shifted to the side, but stayed close, playing with her hair.

"I'd say you remembered the steps quite well," she said with a satisfied grin.

Sirius laughed. "Hmm. I'm glad you thought so. I had forgotten how enjoyable sex is, though."

"We shall have to remedy that," she flirted.

Sirius smiled at her, then a concerned look crossed his face. His eyes flicked away, then returned to hers. "Hermione, you know I care about you right?"

Ah. She knew how to handle that concern. "Sirius, don't worry about it. We're just having fun, right?"

Such a look of relief crossed his face that she couldn't help but feel a little hurt. She might not have been in love with Sirius, but every girl had a part that wanted all the men in the world to be madly in love with her.

"You don't have to be such a man about it," she muttered, feeling some of the glow fade.

Sirius pushed away the strands of hair that were stuck to her face. "Hey. Hermione, you are a very beautiful woman, and I had a wonderful time. I just want to make sure I don't hurt you."

She rolled her eyes at her own fragility. "I know, you just managed to step on my delicate ego. But you don't have to call me beautiful to make up for it." That was one thing she had always known for certain. She wasn't ugly, and she wasn't beautiful. She was just somewhere in between.

Sirius shook his head. "Good lord, woman. You may not be the best looking woman in the world, but you are beautiful. And besides that, you have such a beautiful spirit, all this confidence and intelligence that shines through, like a diamond reflecting the sun in a thousand facets."

She had ought to laugh at his hyperbole, but instead she was blushing at the compliment. She rolled towards him, idly tracing the tattoos on his chest.

"Thank you," she murmured.

Sirius puffed out his chest comically. "I aim to please."

She smiled, but shook her head a little. "No, that's not what I meant. I just realized how dead I've been myself these past few years. I wasn't down or anything, but I wasn't living either. Tonight, you made me feel alive again."

Sirius caught her wandering hand in his own, then scooted down so he can look her in the eyes. "No, thank you. You've made me feel alive, and I thought that would take a miracle."

They shared a moment of mutual admiration, before Hermione blushed and sat up. Then a devilish idea entered her head. She hovered above Sirius, ready to move downwards.

"So, do you remember fellatio?" she asked with a grin.

An identity is a mathematical relationship equating one quantity to another (which may initially appear to be different).

Nervousness had made her more than early this time, and so the minutes ticked by with agonizingly fast-slowness. She'd already finished a sandwich (smoked turkey on rye with a bit of cheese and avocado), and now she was picking at the edges of a scone. She felt like a therapist who had overstepped the bounds of propriety, waiting for the world to read her disgrace from the big scarlet stamp on her face. Hermione knew it was ridiculous, that she hadn't really done anything wrong, but it ate at her all the same. She told herself to get it together; Severus was the most observant man she knew. He'd spot her anxiety a mile away.

Really, it was the best resolution to sexual intimacy she'd ever experienced. Sirius had been warm and friendly to her, almost grateful, without any sense of expectation. It was almost like it was just a normal aspect to their friendship. Hermione smiled. A really, really good aspect.

"Swallowed the cream, Miss Granger?"

Hermione jumped, images of doing just that leaping to mind and staining her face crimson. Severus had his head tilted, eyebrow raised in that condescending curiosity he'd perfected. Sometimes she thought he affected a sour disposition simply because it suited his features so well.

"Severus! You startled me. I was deep in thought," she rambled, and then stopped herself. There was no use in looking a complete idiot. "Have a seat, why don't you."

He did so without comment, which was a great relief to her. She took advantage of his inattention while he was ordering to remind herself of why she was here. She had plenty to tell him about Sirius' mindset. She just didn't have to tell him everything.

"So, how are you doing?" she ventured when the waiter had left.

The unusual politeness of her greeting caught him off guard, and he didn't reply immediately.

"Well," he answered simply. "And you?"

"Fine," she said with a wide smile. "And Remus?"

Severus unfolded his napkin with a flourish, settling it on his lap. "Better, I suppose. I haven't seen him drink in quite some time, thank Merlin. He's still reluctant to see Black, however."

"Hmm," she pondered. "Sirius opened up to me some the other night. We were right, it's pretty much depression associated with all the years he's lost."

She looked up as she finished pouring another cup of tea, and she thought there was a glimpse of pity in his eyes. It disappeared as soon as he noticed her gaze.

"I suppose that's understandable, though it couldn't have happened to a better person." She opened her mouth to protest, though she wasn't sure what to say, but he hurried on. "All the same, with time he will recover. As will Remus, if his current arc of progression is an accurate predictor. Has Black discussed Lupin at all?"

She shook her head. "No, which I think is strange. I think he's avoiding the topic completely."

The waiter arrived with Severus' sandwich. They were silent as he spread a thin layer of Dijon across the bread, then carefully rearranged the ham, tomato, and lettuce to his exacting standards. He wiped his hands carefully, then caught her watching him.

"I think it is important that they do see each other again, though I'm not sure how soon it should occur."

She nodded her agreement. She picked at her scone as he started to eat.

"What I don't understand," she pondered aloud, "is why they are taking it to this extreme. I mean, if I lost Harry or Ron, I'd be torn up, but I'd heal eventually. And to get them back would be the greatest gift ever."

Severus was looking at her with a strange expression, sandwich poised in mid-air. "Perhaps. Though if you had lost Ron in the middle of the war, you may have felt the same way," he said after a moment.

She thought back to that time, when the two of them had been so wrapped up in each other, seeking solace in the best avenue open to them. Harry had held himself apart, though they tried to reach him, to support him in whatever way he needed. To lose Harry would have been horrible, though they had more than half expected to. To lose Ron would have torn her world apart.

"Wait," she said as the comparison dawned on her. "Do you mean Sirius and Remus..."

He actually laughed as she trailed off. "Do you honestly mean to tell me that you didn't know? That the great brain of Hermione Granger, smartest witch of her age, didn't figure out that Lupin and Black were lovers?"

A flush rose to her cheeks in the face of his disdain, then all the blood rushed away, leaving her skin cold and goosepimpled as she realized the implications. That night...

"Oh God," she gasped in horror.

Severus frowned at her. "I agree that Remus has execrable taste, but your reaction seems a bit extreme. Are you averse to such relationships, perhaps?"

His question pulled her from the laborious process of self-recrimination. "What?' she asked hazily.

"Are you homophobic, as I believe is the Muggle term?"

"Oh! No, not at all," she stated, falling back to her thoughts. Hermione felt like she had betrayed Remus somehow, though she knew it wasn't her fault. She wondered what Sirius had been thinking; whether he truly believed that Remus would never return to him, or perhaps it didn't matter to their relationship in the long run.

She looked up to find Severus studying her, puzzlement on his face. She almost blurted a confession, but stopped herself just in time. She would never regain whatever respect he held for her if he knew she had shagged Sirius Black.

Very carefully, she set her scone onto the plate and brushed the crumbs from her fingers. Then she stood, still feeling like she was caught in a slow motion video.

"I have to go," she said, then fled the shop. Vaguely, she realized that she had left Severus with the bill. It was really a shame she was too caught up in her thoughts to enjoy the moment.

On to part 4.