            The door slammed shut with so much force, it rattled against the frame. Hermione startled, stepping back, but he was already looming over her, one hand on the wall above her head. "I’m the child?" he whispered hoarsely. "You’ve been lying to me—to yourself—this entire time. You’ve never stopped wanting that vile man. Even when it was my bed you shared." His other hand came up, knuckles brushing over her cheekbone. She trembled under his touch, but if he noticed, he didn’t stop. His hand flattened against the side of her face, cradling it gently. "Tell me," Sirius murmured. "Tell me it’s true that you stopped wanting him, and we’ll go back upstairs. We’ll make a decision. Together."