intrusive thoughts

James smiles at her obvious revulsion, he bites back the dreamy sigh, before quirking his brows playfully and then flickering his gaze over to his best mate and his supposed sister, "To see the show obviously."

Remus raises a brow, "You know she's not a Potter."

"Have you seen her hair, Moony? She should be a Potter! Her hair is almost as wild as mine, even Evans here, has seen it crackle. Tell him, Evans!"

Lily shifts uncomfortably, not wanting to agree with Potter, but subjecting herself to the truth nevertheless was a hard pill to swallow. She sighs, "Yes, it has. But only," she continues defensively, "Only when she gets mad! Which is...a lot, at least when Black is near."

"I can guarantee you that Sirius irritates at least seventy percent of Hogwart's population," Remus snorts and flicks the page of his magazine to the chocolate section.

"Lies!" James retorts dramatically, "Padfoot is annoyingly enough...very good with the birds. Just yesterday, we were at the Three Broomsticks, and Lina, Nina, and...the other one that ends with na basically invited him to spend the rest of the Hogsmeade trip with them. He didn't even have to do anything—he just sat at the window and drank a butterbeer!"

"And what happened to the triplets?" Lily scoffs and glares at the Black heir trying to wiggle himself in between Terrance Scott – a Ravenclaw – and Hermione, desperately needing to ruin her study date for a glare and scowl.

"Nothing," Remus smirks and basked in Lily's shocked expression, "Padfoot was very insistent in his staring...once he basically told them that he was occupied for the rest of the day. He went on and distracted Hermione from her...date with Alife Lockwood while he was in the toilet, to coerce her into taking a peek inside Tomes and Scrolls. In other words, Sirius hijacked her date and ended up carrying a new set of books for her back to the school, while Lockwood, was...? What happened to Lockwood, Prongs?"

"Poor bloke stumbled into a pole," James adds in cheerfully and grabs a quill from the side of his table, "Almost as if he were confounded."

"That's terrible!" Lily whispers horrified, but her voice doesn't match the grin painting her lips, "Poor Alfie."

"Poor Padfoot," James scoffs and glances at Hermione, whose hair was beginning to crackle as Scott tries to make himself one with the windowsill. "He took her shopping, carried all her bags, and still got hexed."

"Yes but—"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE, BLACK!" Hermione nearly screeches and shoves her book back into her bag, completely blindsiding the librarian, and storms out of the library with Sirius huffing petulantly.

Remus peeks from the side of his magazine, Lily and James peer over their Herbology texts to see Sirius pouting and Scott inching away from the hot-headed pureblood very slowly.

"Five minutes, exactly. Nice job, Prongs."

"Why thank you, ser Moony."

"How long do you think it's going to take for Sirius to realize that he likes Hermione?" Lily interrupts before the two marauders can get even more annoying.

James exchanges a glance with Remus before snickering, "How long do you think it will take my sister to realize that Sirius likes her?"

Lily could concede to that one; she didn't have an answer.

"She's such a swot, Prongs!" Sirius complains and angrily stabs his eggs, "She could probably tell old Sluggy that his hair looks better green and with an Ironback Dragon fringe and he'd do it!"

"Jealous much?" Remus comments pleasantly and stirs some milk into his tea.

"HAH! What's there to be jealous of?"

James nudges Remus's shoulder and begins to eat his toast, "Well, she's been going on a lot of dates lately. She doesn't have that much time anymore; Evans was complaining to Dorcas last I heard."

Sirius tched and glares at his bacon, "As if. Scott is a proper Ravenclaw, surprised that there aren't feathers sprouting out of his arse—did you know he ran away from me in the library? Me! What did I do? I'm no Slytherin!"

"Well, you did practically scare him off," Remus snorts and eyes the amount of jam he slathers on his toast, "And ruined Hermione's study date. She was looking forward to it, you know? He's very good in arithmancy."

"As if Granger needed any help in arithmancy!" Sirius sneers and chomps on his toast, "She could probably take her NEWTS with her eyes closed and come out with a perfect score! Scott knows that too."

"Drink your tea before you choke, Pads," James wrinkles his nose at his gob, "Well if she didn't need help with arithmancy, why do you think she wanted to have a study date with him?"

Remus glares at James—the quidditch junkie clearly wasn't good at subterfuge.

"How am I supposed to know?"

Sirius wasn't good at subterfuge either, Remus thinks exasperatedly, "You've been stalking Hermione for the last three weeks, Padfoot. Let the poor girl go on a date and snog a boy."

"How dare you say such slanderous things about my sister, Moony!"

"And how is she your sister again?"

"Any girl that can put Sirius in her place and prank him better than any of us could've begun to imagine is clearly part of my blood," James states matter-of-factly.

Sirius scowls.

"And that bloke she went out with a few days ago? Lockwood?" Remus reminds him about that fiasco, "I thought Sirius was going to decimate him with his eyes."

"Too true!"

"Lockwood is useless!" Sirius says hotly, "Who buys a bird a gillywater and leaves her to go take a piss? He's not even good-looking! He looks like a peacock who went three rounds with a hippogriff!"

James snickers into Remus's shoulder while the werewolf seems to have some semblance of being put together, "And? Why did you whisk her away to Tomes and Scrolls?"

"Figured she'd be ecstatic to get a few new books to inhale," he rolls his eyes, "If you don't feed the swots Moony, they will just whittle away until they become the dust bunnies that hide under your bed."

James stares at him, "Mate? Why are you sabotaging her dates anyway?"

"Because!" he exclaims like that's a reason when it's just—not.

"Because?" Remus prompts.

"It's fun!"

"For who?" James inquires disbelieving.

"Me, obviously," Sirius can practically hear how much he sounds like an asshole, he blinks at his own words. He grimaces after a moment.

"Ah," Remus says pleased, "He understands."

"Look," he runs a hand through his messy hair and stares at his tea, "They don't..."

"Don't?"

James prompts, "Don't?"

"They don't deserve her," Sirius admits painfully and looks away, "I mean, she's swotty, she's got a mouth on her and so much hair! Her hair looks like a thundercloud and sometimes it hisses at me, okay? She's got freckles, right on her nose, and—and she's so strong, especially in DADA."

James looks particularly gleeful and looks at Remus hopefully—as if Sirius might put them out of their misery. Remus takes control of the conversation just as easily, "So, you're saying you're purposefully ruining her dates because she deserves better than the random Ravenclaws and Gryffindors?"

Sirius thinks about it for a moment and then nods earnestly, "Yes."

"You think the blokes she's dating are what? Boring?"

"No, they are very boring. Plain. Basic. Dull," Sirius continues satisfied his friends are finally on his wavelength.

"Who would be good enough for her?" James asks curiously signaling Remus to hold off on the hammer. "Or, you know, good enough for someone like my wonderful sister."

"Obviously a Gryffindor," he scoffs and shrugs, "Smart, because can you imagine her with someone dim? Brave, because imagine dealing with her exam season, what rot. Tall because I bet you, she likes someone she can fight with. Handsome, because she needs someone to balance out all that hair."

"And freckles," Remus adds in helpfully.

"Especially her freckles," Sirius nods eagerly, "She's got like a patch over her nose and a few on her cheeks. They look like paint splatters."

Now he's reciting poetry.

James rolls his eyes and they thought he was hopeless.

"Someone like you, you mean?" Remus raises a brow.

And Sirius just gapes.

He opens and closes his mouth. Before he jumps out of his seat and waves his hand, "Me? With Granger? You've got to be joking, Moony! As if I'd ever be with someone so swotty and frustrating and small! She's so tiny, I could probably just shove her into my pocket and—"

"But you just described yourself," James points out and mockingly remembers, something, "Or not."

Remus bites back a smile, "Of course not, Prongs. Sirius isn't smart, tall, handsome, or brave."

Sirius makes a strangled sound.

"No, he's probably talking about Hermione's date tomorrow," James's eyes glint with mischief.

"What date?" Sirius blinks.

"Oh?" Remus smirks and brings down the hammer, "You didn't know? Hermione has a date with Benjy Fenwick. Do you remember Benjy? He's a bit older than us and used to be the Quidditch Captain. Now, he's an Auror."

Sirius stares at them in shock.

"He's smart, tall, handsome, and brave," Remus continues and finishes his tea, "So, you don't need to sabotage her date tomorrow, right? Clearly, he's more than good enough."

James bites back a howl of laughter tickling up the back of his throat, "She's got my permission, Pads. So, don't ruin it for her."

Sirius glowers at him and digs his nails into his fits, "What the hell, Prongs? How could you give permission for this? This is a betrayal!"

"How is that a betrayal?" Remus asks exasperated; it's like pulling teeth.

"He—He just," Sirius shuts his mouth and then opens it again; like a fish. "I mean, he practically told me not to prank them on their date tomorrow! Which is against the Marauder's code! No bird is allowed—"

"—she's my sister in all but blood, Sirius! Stop being so hardheaded," James snorts and raises a brow too, "She's going to get married one day, you know?"

Sirius slams his hands on the table and sits back down, "James—"

"She's entitled to go on her dates, Padfoot," James continues and pours another cup of tea for him, "No betrayal necessary, obviously I didn't stop you from pranking her other dates before because I too, agreed with you. Those blokes weren't good enough for her. But Benjy..."

"Benjy what?" Sirius shrieks infuriated, the veins in his neck pull taut against his skin like whipcords.

"Why are you so angry, Sirius?" James needles him continuously. "It's not like you're going to make out with her."

The Black heir ground his teeth, his breath ragged, "Because you refuse to see reason!" Sirius scowls and glowers darkly at the image, "She can't go on that date. I refuse. This is against everything—"

"And all this anger has nothing to do with the fact that you like her?" Remus puts himself out of his misery by cutting in cleanly. He doesn't let Sirius get a word in, "Your reasoning for sabotaging her dates under the pretense of a prank is because all the blokes she went out with weren't good enough for her. Here comes Benjy, a perfect candidate, with all the traits you described that would be a suitable candidate for Hermione, and suddenly he isn't what? Good enough? He was a Gryffindor, remeber? Even you aren't stupid enough to brush him off so easily."

James continues for him, "And," he lifts up a finger to cement his reasoning and be even more pretentious, "If you weren't so angry about Hermione suddenly dating, you would see that not only did you not want Hermione dating, you didn't want her dating anyone but you, because even through all your bullshit, you know that it's true, because why else would it burn you to see anyone else with her?"

Remus suddenly understands the connective tissue—James had felt the same way when Lily went out with Gideon Prewett.

He claimed that if they procreated that there would be too many redheads and the world would cease to exist.

Or something equally ridiculous.

But Sirius looked like he was just hit with a bludger.

Sirius is quiet this time, as he spies on Benjy and Hermione from the corner of the bar at Hog's Head. He had scowled, this wasn't first-date material. It was just unclassy and a pureblood like Fenwick should've known better. Remus eyes his best friend carefully, he's marginally surprised that he doesn't just storm over to the duo in a whirlwind of fire and determination.

He's much calmer this time, maybe their intervention finally got to that thick brain of his.

Who knows?

Hermione giggles at something he says, her finger twirling in her hair and when Sirius wishes it was his hair her fingers were in—he feels the first cold digits of dread sink into his stomach.

Benjy is an Auror, an important one despite his age, so he can't stay off-duty for too long, especially in a place like Hogsmeade. So, with a peck on the cheek, Benjy leaves Hermione at the bar, and apparates outside. Hermione looks at her butterbeer thoughtfully, and that's when Sirius makes his move.

He takes a seat next to her.

"He didn't even interrupt her date," James says proudly, a touch surprised.

"I don't want to hear that from you," Remus rolls his eyes and takes a bite out of his truffle chips, "You're just as bad."

"Yeah, well," he shrugs in discomfort, "Hermione was actually waiting for Sirius to interrupt her date."

"You noticed that too," he smiles at that, "I thought it was odd that she kept glancing over here."

"Yes," James agrees and then looks at his plate of chips, "But, Hermione was expecting it, which means that she likes Padfoot too."

"What, you don't approve of him now?"

James snorts, "As if, Padfoot is my brother and Hermione is my sister and...gross."

Remus snickers at his face.

"No, I mean, Sirius and Hermione fight like dogs and cats," James blinks and then grins at his own joke; Moony is no exception. He bites his lip then, "And they still manage to have something, and well, me and Lily..."

Remus sighs and pats his shoulder, "Prongs, the sooner Pads, and Hermione get together, the sooner Hermione will help you get Lily."

He perks up, "Really?"

"What kind of sister would she be if she didn't help her brother?"

"I behaved," Sirius pouts and looks at her butterbeer to avoid her gaze, "I didn't even say anything."

Hermione snorts, "Sure. Then why were you sitting in the corner like a kicked dog?"

He winces at the accuracy and puffs his chest, "I didn't realize you own Hog's Head."

"You know what I mean," she rolls her eyes, "You've ruined all of my dates in the past two weeks. Shouldn't you be ashamed of yourself?"

"Absolutely not," Sirius says abruptly.

Hermione looks at him in disbelief and demands, "And why not? Have you no manners? How disrespectful can you—"

"They weren't good enough for you," Sirius admits truthfully.

Her amber eyes widen.

He swallows and picks up his glass of butterbeer, "You're, you know, a swot."

Hermione stares at him.

"And, I mean," Sirius can't do this—he really can't. His hands are wet with sweat, his heart beats like a thunderbird, rummaging in his chest like a galloping lion and his stomach is sick. It feels like someone took a bunch of pixies and let it loose in his bowels. He's feeling too much, and he's spent so much time trying not to feel anything, that now, it feels like he's drowning. "You're too good for them."

She looks away, "No, I'm not."

His feelings of anxiety evaporate with that swing of the sword. He sputters, "Of course you are! You're Hermione Granger, you're—you. How can you say that?"

Hermione snaps back to look at him, furious. "You say that I'm a swot, a bookworm. That my hair looks like a nest, that my freckles look like a disease, that I always have ink on my fingers, and that I'm so small that you could probably fit me in a Quidditch kit!"

Sirius stumbles over his words, "Well. I mean—yes, but. It's not—"

"How can they not be good enough for me, if I'm, apparently, too much—"

"You're perfect," Sirius blurts out because he hates and hates that he puts those thoughts in her head because that is the last thing he ever wanted. It's a thing they do. Isn't it? They snipe at each other, fight, prank each other, and—and they make up. They share a pumpkin pasty, and he carries her books for her on some days.

They were Hermione and Sirius, and they weren't supposed to be more until Sirius realized that is exactly what he wants, and he doesn't think he'll ever be able to put it off the more and more he thinks about it.

"You aren't too much," he says aghast and leans in closer, "How can you be? Too much of a swot? You're brilliant, you know nearly everything there is to know, and you don't use it to hurt anyone – even though so many people deserve it – and your hair is amazing! It looks like a lion's mane, and it crackles with magic when you get angry, why do you think I like making you angry so much? Your freckles are adorable, okay, they look like tiny paint splatters or—or a bunch of stars all jumbled together. I like the ink on your fingers, it reminds me that I'll have a piece of you with me when you hit me and you're the perfect size—"

—for me.

Is what he wants to say, so dreadfully.

But Sirius isn't ready. He isn't ready for this, for her—for them. Because this feels too big for him to even think about, for him to tackle. There's no plan, no contingencies, just desperation.

He cursed Remus and James for putting this thought in his head, because he knows, in his bones, that he will never find peace again.

Not until he exorcises this thought from his head or puts it into action.

Hermione deserves big things, small things, how can she be too much, when no one was ever enough for her?

Sirius could be that person.

He is that person, he knows.

This is much more than just a prank. Just a passing fancy, because this is Hermione, she's not passing and she's not just someone he fancies. Fancies isn't a strong enough word to describe the space in his brain he makes for her. It's not enough and it will never be enough.

So, he says:

"—size to sleep on. You'd probably be really comfortable anyway, with all that hair, and Crooks obviously," Sirius swallows the word vomit before he can really dig a hole for him to jump in, "Okay, I never want to hear you say that again, do you understand me, Granger?"

Hermione stares at him stupefied, "Say what?"

"That you are too much or that you aren't good enough," Sirius says sternly and his eyes are silver against the candlelight, "That's rubbish thinking, and I apologize if I ever made you feel less than when you could probably take up the whole universe if you let yourself be free—which is fine because I'm a star and the brightest of them. I don't mind."

"I don't understand," she says faintly because what she thinks he's saying is—

"That's fine," he nods more to himself than anything and wonders if he can get a jump start on battle plans tonight, "I have a lot of work to do anyway, so I'll see you in Charms tomorrow. Try to get some rest Granger—Hermione, you're going to need it."

Sirius tucks a strand of curly hair behind her ear without even realizing it, he smiles at her, something shy and sweet, and her heart leaps into her throat. He pivots on his left heel and walks back to his friends, before herding them to the door, "We need to study, I can't fail this, Moony! It's life and death, my pride and heart are on the line—don't look at me like that Prongs, we are not the same."

Hermione looks at her butterbeer and wonders if she drank too much that she hallucinated this entire encounter.

There was that line though, she kept remembering, that's if it truly happened – tomorrow she will realize that it was true, Lily will wonder why her face looks like her jar of raspberry jam – and it wasn't an exam-stressed delusion.

That line about her being the universe and freeing herself...it sounded a lot like...

I don't mind, he said.

She thinks with hot cheeks that if he continued his sentence, grammatically of course, because it would only make sense if he finished it like—that it would've sounded like if she had put it together—she thinks all jumbled.

I don't mind, belonging to you.

Notes:

wow this got away from me.
i am drunk so no editing here.
come yell at me on tumblt @summersirius
pls drop a comment on your way out.

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