Yesterday is Tomorrow (Everything is Connected)

Five: Exile and Friendly Smiles

"There are - rumours -"

"About what?" Hermione's narrow-eyed look had Barty struggle for a moment before answering with a sigh.

"That you punched Black?" The rising octave at the end of the sentence made it more of a question than a statement and Hermione mentally groaned.

"Anything else?"

Barty shook his head, his brown eyes wide and entreating as he looked at her. "You didn't really punch him, did you?"

When she didn't answer, he flinched.

"But why?" he nearly wailed as they entered the Great Hall for breakfast. "You don't want the spotlight! You hate any kind of attention - specifically theirs!"

Hermione fidgeted as they sat, and began reaching for some toast, taking in the soft chatter of her Ravenclaw mates and the excited noise coming from the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables behind them.

"It - it was an accident," she murmured offside to him as he bit into a sugary jam tart. "I lost my temper. It won't happen again."

The look Barty sent her was oh, really? to which she stared at him. He muttered, "Well, let's see if that is true, because here comes Black - and not the one we like."

"Whu-"

Just as she spoke, the noise volume around her plummeted as someone slid in the seat next to her, comfortably reaching for her half-eaten toast, plucking it from her hand. Hermione watched, following that toast with her eyes, as it made its way toward Sirius Black, who bit into it and sent her a cheeky grin around the bread.

"That -" sputtered Hermione. "That's my toast."

"It's a tasty slice of bread, love," replied Sirius, the grin still on his lips as he held the toast back out to her to take a bite. "Sharesies?"

Hermione stared at him for a solid minute, incomprehensibly. Sirius looked as handsome as ever, his curls pushed back and off his forehead, his grey eyes warm and practically daring her to punch him again, in casual Muggle wear of jeans and a jumper with a jacket thrown over top.

She then looked around, realized how many people were watching them, and asked, quite sincerely, "Are you lost?"

"Nah, Princess," the fifth-year Gryffindor grinned at her. "I'm right where I want to be." He leaned forward a bit, causing her to lean back into Barty.

Her best friend wrapped a protective arm around Hermione's shoulders, along her sternum, and drew her back further into his chest. His glare smoldered and had it been a spell, Sirius would've been incinerated by the intensity the Ravenclaw was projecting. Sirius, of course, being himself, ignored him.

"Say - Hermione, love," began Sirius, eyes on hers, "D'you have a date for Hogsmeade yet?"

Hermione blinked. "No."

"Oh?" asked Sirius, leaning forward a bit more.

Hermione, in response, leaned back, and Barty slid a bit down the bench, into a scowling sixth year who told him to "watch it, Crouch!", sharply.

She then narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she asked, elongating the vowel.

"Why, love," grinned Sirius, lowering his voice to a husky timbre, "'Hear my soul speak: / The very instant that I saw you, did / My heart fly to your service.'"

There was a hushed silence, a form of baited breath around them as girls leaned in closer to hear Hermione's reply, while the boys attempted to look cool and not like they were watching for their own pickup lines and tips from Hogwarts' smoothest serial dater.