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Hermione Granger had a mission. Not exactly a mission, per se, maybe more like a challenge. An objective. A raison d’être. Something that she was finally going to see happen — come hell or high water. And just like any of Hermione’s previous projects, she was going in prepared.
Admittedly, the preparations for this particular battle looked far different than those of her past. Her hair had been relaxed into softer curls. Her skin had been exfoliated and moisturised until it glowed. Her eye makeup was more intense than usual, with smokey dark eyeliner that was making her wide eyes appear even wider. Her heels were high. Her dress and shoes were both a vivid red, with her lips painted to match. She took one last look at her reflection before departing for the New Year’s Eve Party at Grimmauld Place, giving Crookshanks a hurried pat on the head for luck on her way to the floo connection.
Tonight, Hermione Granger was finally going to get something she wanted.
Tonight, she was going to fuck Sirius Black.
When she arrived at the party, Hermione’s cheeks were flushed from a combination of nerves and excitement. She moved her hair away from her face as she exited the floo, using her wand to quickly remove any hints of ash. Ginny came over to greet her and did a double take when she saw Hermione’s outfit.
Hermione’s dress, in addition to being very red, was very low cut. So much so that she could not wear a bra. It was sleeveless, with a plunging neckline and a fitted waist that let out into a full skirt. It had pockets, one of which she used to quickly stow her wand. It was by far the most revealing thing that Hermione had ever worn but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Hermione’s interest in Sirius Black hadn’t always been this intense. It had started off gradually, even subtly. At their first meeting, she was primarily focused on trying to keep them all alive — viewing Sirius as a threat before quickly shifting to seeing him as someone she needed to protect, following the revelation about Wormtail’s betrayal. Sirius, having recently transitioned from being a tortured inmate at Azkaban to an escaped convict on the run, wasn’t exactly looking his best. Nor did he seem like he was even particularly mentally stable. ut he was innocent and he was Harry’s godfather. And most importantly, Crookshanks trusted him.
And unlike Ron, Hermione trusted Crookshanks.
Sirius’s health and demeanour were much improved the next few times Hermione encountered him. He no longer looked sickly or manic. He seemed years younger and when he smiled she could see echoes of the boy he must have been before he was imprisoned. Hermione was just pleased to see someone her best friend loved looking well. Sirius had been brought so low by Azkaban that she really liked seeing him happy. She assumed that was why her gaze was transfixed by his smile.
Her first hint that her interest in Sirius Black was not entirely platonic happened at the end of her fifth year, when they broke into the Department of Mysteries. Harry had been convinced that Sirius was in danger, but they were wrong. It was a trap and the only thing they found were Death Eaters lying in wait. Fortunately for them, the adult contingent of Order of the Phoenix had not been far behind.
When Hermione had successfully silenced Antonin Dolohov, she had a moment of triumph where she believed she had bested him. And in that moment, she missed the curse that had been sent her way by the enraged Death Eater. That’s when Sirius arrived — throwing a complex charm at her that muted the effects of Dolohov’s curse, before turning and finishing off the man himself. Hermione had swayed for a few seconds — or possibly microseconds, honestly, the whole thing had happened so quickly — after Dolohov’s curse hit it’s mark before the protective shield of Sirius’s magic enveloped her. His magic did the trick. She was able to shake off the effects of Dolohov’s curse and even regained sufficient footing that she could rejoin the battle.
Hermione had been very lucky. Sirius had saved her that night and then stayed by her side as they fought off Death Eaters together. Together they had almost taken out Bellatrix, but she managed to elude them and escape.
Afterwards, when they were all taking stock of themselves and attending to injuries, she discovered that she had a curse scar from Dolohov’s initial strike. Except, rather than being blackened like a typical curse scar should be, it was faintly golden — radiating with the protective energy that had transformed Dolohov’s attack into Sirius’s mark. Hermione liked it. It was as though she carried a piece of Sirius Black’s magic inside her everywhere she went. She asked him to explain the charm he used on her several times, but he always brushed her questions off — only saying that it was old family magic.
“Besides, I owed you for bringing me Buckbeak so I could get out of Hogwarts. Couldn’t let anything happen to you, kitten.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “You know what? You’re right. It’s appropriate for you to rescue me, since I rescued you first — back when you were locked in a tower like a fairytale princess.” And she stuck her tongue out at him, annoyed at him for calling her kitten.
He laughed and ruffled her hair with his large hand. She assumed he meant the touch to be somewhat paternal. It wasn’t. Not to her. From the moment she found herself surrounded by his golden protective magic in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione stopped thinking of Sirius as Harry’s godfather and started to think of him as a wizard. An attractive wizard. An attractive wizard who had saved her with quick timing and complex magic.
But she pushed those thoughts aside. Apart from the fact that she was still attending school and arguably too young to seriously consider the man for anything other than a hopeless crush, there was the war. Trying to keep Harry alive and figuring out how to destroy Voldemort took up all of her focus. She had no time to waste on foolish, or at least very premature, dreams.
Nevertheless, a part of her had wanted Sirius ever since his magic had marked her. That part started getting a lot louder after she turned eighteen. And by the time the Battle of Hogwarts rolled around and they were once again reunited and fighting side by side, her desire for him was screaming inside her mind — along with an increasingly loud voice that shouted at her to protect him from harm.
After the Battle, amidst the bodies and the smoking wreckage of the castle, she had allowed herself to give him one long embrace, holding him and squeezing him tightly. He responded in kind, holding her like she was his anchor to reality as he kissed the top of her head. Sirius was a physically affectionate friend — while she had no baseline for what he was like before Azkaban, but being touch-starved for that long had definitely left him being free with hugs and shoulder pats — but this was different. This had meaning. They hadn’t touched each other like this before, not really. The single dance they had shared at Fleur and Bill’s wedding had been something, but it was nowhere near as intense — and she had replayed that moment in her mind many times while she was on the run as they looked for horcruxes. Hermione clung to him, breathing him in and feeling the fact of his survival as she felt his chest rise and fall against her own body.
And then they broke apart. And Hermione was needed elsewhere. And Sirius was needed elsewhere, too. And they never spoke about what, if anything, their desperate embrace on the battlefield meant.
The summer after the final battle was a seemingly endless series of trials conducted by the Wizengamot, followed up by a heartbreakingly futile trip to Australia. Hermione decided to go back to Hogwarts for another year to finish her schooling and help with the rebuilding efforts. Harry and Ron elected to become aurors. Harry moved in with Sirius at Grimmauld Place, and Ron moved back to the Burrow. Hermione was only back from Australia the week before school started and she spent it in the Burrow, sleeping in Ginny’s room — only seeing Sirius on her last night as he attended the barbeque hosted by the Weasleys to see the pair off to Hogwarts for the last time.
It was the first post-Battle gathering that wasn’t a funeral or a trial. People were making a valiant effort to move back to whatever normal looked like, but the atmosphere was bittersweet at best. Sirius was there, but he made himself scarce after a few attempts at small talk with Andromeda and Harry, heading out back to sit by the bonfire with some firewhisky. Hermione found him there an hour later, sitting alone by the fire.
“Sickle for your thoughts,” she said.
“Oh, my thoughts are not the kind that are good for sharing.” Sirius sighed as he put down his glass on the ground by his feet. “Mostly, I’m thinking about how much I miss my friends.”
“Yeah, everything is still quite raw. For all of us I suppose.” She cast a meaningful glance back at the house. Molly had broken down about Fred twice that evening, before retiring to her room for the night. “I think we all have people we are missing. But if it helps, I am sorry for your loss, Sirius.”
“Our loss, kitten. I know you cared about Moony and Tonks too. And the rest.”
Hermione shivered. “I did. A lot. But it’s not quite the same loss for me as it is for you, especially with Remus. And I’m sorry about that.”
“I think you’ve had enough of your own losses though, haven’t you. I was sorry to hear about your parents.”
Hermione stiffened. She hadn’t told anyone except for Harry and Ginny. This was not something she was ready to discuss yet — it was too painful. She blinked back tears, hoping Sirius wouldn’t notice them in the flickering light from the bonfire. “Yes, well. I’m responsible for doing that to them, so it’s not like I deserve your sympathy. Keep that for those who are more worthy. There is no shortage of potential recipients these days.”
Sirius turned, giving her his full attention. “Hermione, you didn’t do anything wrong. You saved their lives. The fact that it can’t be fixed is a tragedy, but you still deserve sympathy. And you deserve to have people care that you are hurt too.”
“Oh, I’m fine, Sirius. Don’t worry about me.”
He picked his glass back up, stood up and walked over to her. He looked down at her and moved a curl away from her face as he spoke. “You don’t have to lie to me, Hermione. I know you aren’t fine and you don’t have to pretend that you are.”
Hermione felt her heart clench. She always told people she was fine, regardless of how much chaos she was actually feeling in the confines of her own mind. It was the reason why she couldn’t comfortably think of herself as an honest person — she kept so many of her true feelings bottled up all of the time, carefully cultivating a facade of a person who had it all figured out. No one ever questioned her on it. No one ever saw the lie.
Just Sirius.
Hermione felt a tear slide down her cheek, before she hastily wiped it away. “I came out here to make you feel better, Sirius. Stop talking about my problems. It’s making it harder for me to comfort you.”
“Sorry, Hermione. My mistake.” He handed her his glass of firewhisky, gesturing for her to take a drink.
She downed it entirely, making a face and squeezing her eyes shut as it hit the back of her throat. “Ugh.”
“I didn’t mean for you to finish it,” Sirius grumbled.
“Well, you should have specified. Shall we leave our bad memories and regrets out here, and go back inside?”
“Good idea, kitten.”
“Please stop calling me that.” When she was younger, she hated when he called her ‘kitten.’ It was infuriating and annoying. She felt differently about it now, though. Between the firewhisky and him making a point to acknowledge her pain, hearing him call her ‘kitten’ was doing things to Hermione. And it definitely wasn’t the right night to get into any of that.
“Never. You are almost always the perfect mix of adorable and angry.”
Hermione felt butterflies in her stomach when he called her perfect, which didn’t help with her frustrations. They rejoined the rest of the group inside the Burrow and spent the remainder of the evening in a room with lots of people who were all talking, laughing, and crying in turns. Sirius looked at Hermione from across the room, more than once. Definitely more than he had before the war. He caught her looking back once, and quickly looked away. Hermione blushed and turned her attention back to Ginny, who was anxious about their imminent return to Hogwarts. But that was the moment she started to seriously consider, well, Sirius. As more than just a futile crush. As an actual, possible future partner. He wasn’t that much older than her, not really. Especially not when considering how much longer wizards lived than Muggles.
Of course, Hermione thought it didn’t make sense to actually pursue him while she was still living at Hogwarts. A relationship with an older man was one thing. A relationship with an older man while she was still attending school felt off to her and she was the one who bloody well wanted it. So while she studied for and earned her N.E.W.T.s, Hermione kept her relationship with Sirius friendly. As it had been in the past. She wrote letters to Sirius almost as frequently as she wrote to Harry and — unlike Harry — Sirius responded punctually. They both attended her graduation ceremony, with Sirius giving her a gorgeous bouquet of yellow tulips.
Hermione blushed as she accepted it and Sirius looked slightly embarrassed. She hugged him in thanks. They were in the courtyard at Hogwarts — not that far from where they had embraced the year prior. He held her tightly and she did the same, breathing in his scent. Sirius stiffened and let her go, walking away with his hands flexing as excused himself to congratulate Neville and Luna on their graduation.
After graduation, Hermione moved into her own flat in Muggle London. She was a frequent visitor to Grimmauld Place to see Harry and Sirius. While it was clear Sirius genuinely liked her and truly enjoyed her company, he started keeping himself at a distance post-Hogwarts. She noticed that he was physically staying farther away from her when they were in the same room together. Not anyone else, though. Just her. He was the most affectionate with Harry, naturally, but he’d offer hugs, handshakes or shoulder pats to almost anyone else. Ginny would get brotherly bear hugs, for the love of Merlin. Luna got an affectionate pat from time to time when she was around. But Hermione got nothing. Not anymore. Not since her graduation.
She should be hurt by it. Dissuaded, perhaps. But she wasn’t. Because she was pretty sure the only reason that Sirius didn’t touch her was that he wanted to touch her. He wanted her too, she was almost completely sure of it. But he didn’t think he should want her. Which was why he held himself back from her and her alone.
It was driving her mad.
Hence, the dress.
The dress that Ginny Weasley was presently showing her appreciation for by letting out a low whistle as she walked around Hermione and checked her out from the back.
“Who’s the target? It’s Sirius, right?” Ginny stood back in front of her, with a knowing grin on her face.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, Ginevra.”
“Right. Of course you don’t. Well, if he isn’t up for it, I’ll bet you’ll have more than one prospect for the evening. I’m a bit mad that you didn’t call me in for this to get my expert advice.” She looked at Hermione appraisingly, approval on her face. “Having said that, you clearly didn’t need my help and I’m very proud of you. I never thought you’d show off your tits this much without being tricked into it.”
Hermione gave Ginny a wry smile and a quick hug, before responding primly. “Thank you. Let’s join the party.”
She linked her arm in Ginny’s and they stepped out of the floo parlour and went up a floor to the drawing room, which was wall-to-wall of people. It wasn’t like a cliched film scene. Everyone didn't stop talking to stare when she entered the room, but her appearance drew more attention than usual. She heard a wolf whistle from somewhere in the room, but it wasn’t from any of her close friends who were standing in front of her with varying expressions ranging from mild surprise to outright shock.
Hermione straightened up to her full height, her heels giving her extra inches. She willed her cheeks to stop blushing as she put her hands on her hips and glared at Harry, Ron, Sirius, George, and Angelina.
“What?” she asked acidly, annoyed by their expressions of disbelief. At a certain point the gawking stopped feeling complimentary and started to feel insulting. The specific point being Ron Weasley’s literal dropped jaw.
“Hermione! You look wonderful!” Angelina exclaimed as she stepped forward and gave her a hug. “Seriously, so hot. Whoever he is going to be gone for you,” she whispered in Hermione’s ear.
Merlin, was she that obvious? She felt her blush deepen. “It’s just a dress,” she said.
“Yeah, ‘Mione. It’s just that you’re normally in Ministry robes and covered in ink stains. This is — different,” said Ron.
For fuck’s sake, Ron sounded just like he did in fourth year when he noticed out loud that she was a girl, seemingly for the first bloody time. “Oh, bite me Ronald,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. “I don’t always have to look like a walking library. It’s New Year’s Eve. I’m allowed to wear a dress.”
“Right, and you look amazing.” George said, coming in to kiss her cheek and give her a hug, followed by Harry and Ron doing the same. Sirius hadn’t moved. George elbowed him and Sirius just nodded at her.
“Hermione,” he said, his voice strained.
“Sirius,” Hermione replied, her eyes narrowing before she raised an eyebrow at him in question. He looked like he was trying not to choke on his own tongue.
“Glad you could make it. I’m going to go check to make sure we have enough food and drinks out.” And then Sirius turned and practically sped out of the room as Ginny laughed. George caught his sister’s eye, instantly caught on and winked at Hermione, who blushed again. She probably should have gone with a colour other than red for her dress and shoes if she was going to spend the entire bloody evening with her cheeks flaming in embarrassment.
“Well, Angelina and I are going to go do the party circuit. Hermione, you’ve got this one witch. Just don’t let him chicken out.” George grinned at her as he took Angelina by the arm and left.
Hermione wanted to die of mortification. Ron and Harry looked at each other and shrugged, oblivious to George’s meaning, which only caused Ginny to snort again. Ron saw Lavender and made his excuses to go join his girlfriend. Hermione sighed and turned to Ginny and Ron. “Do you two mind if I third wheel with you?”
“Not at all!” Ginny said gleefully, as Harry nodded. “I want a front row seat.”
“What are you two talking about?” Harry asked, befuddled. Ginny laughed but made no efforts to enlighten him.
For the next few hours, they made the rounds, talking to former classmates and Order members who were congregated at Grimmauld Place to ring in the new millennium together. Hermione had a couple of glasses of champagne which took the edge off her nerves. Ginny was drinking some sort of punch that she and George had concocted which appeared to be mostly composed of various types of alcohol with just enough fruit juice to make it survivable if you wanted to drink more than a few sips. Hermione deliberately did not approach Sirius, but she did make sure to be in his eye line whenever he was in the room as she laughed and smiled in conversation with other party goers.
Sirius started off the evening staying away from her — mostly talking to Order members in other parts of the house as he played host. But every time they were in the same room, she could feel his eyes on her. She didn’t look herself, but every so often Ginny would give her a nod or smirk and one time after Hermione flung her hair back over her shoulder while laughing at a joke told by Oliver Wood, Ginny shot her a thumbs up.
Sirius finished his drink and came over to talk to Oliver and Harry. He didn’t make much more than passing conversation with Hermione and she didn’t catch him staring at her, but he was starting to stay in the same group as her, Ginny and Harry. His invisible boundary seemed to be getting more flexible as the night progressed. Hermione was talked into having a glass of whatever the god-awful concoction produced by Ginevra was — Ginny exclusively referred to as ‘fun punch’ — and then she stopped keeping track of where she was in relation to Sirius. She was talking to Ron, Lavender and Pravarti, when Ginny called out across the room.
“Hermione, come over here!” Ginny beckoned her over to the opposite side of the room, where she had been having an animated conversation with Sirius, Harry and Neville.
“Please help me settle this debate. Professor Snape, may he rest in peace, hot or not?”
“Snape?” she raised her eyebrow for a moment, considering her answer. “Hot.”
“What?!” Sirius and Harry exploded in unison. Neville just looked disgusted.
Ginny nodded at them both. “Told you. Hermione, care to explain.”
She looked at Sirius. “Look, I’m not speaking to what he looked like when you guys were in school. I definitely get the sense that his awkward phase was particularly awkward. But he grew into it. Everything came together and it worked for him. Physically, of course. Not speaking about character here, because that wasn’t the question. Although I’d bet he could give such a scolding. You know, I’m really not speaking respectfully about the deceased here. Ginny shouldn’t be allowed to mix drinks anymore. This seems stronger than last year. What did you do?”
Ginny held out a hand in front of her. “Family secret. I’m not giving that information up.”
“I’d bet George would spill,” she said, shaking her head at Ginny's refusal.
“If you’re wearing that dress he might,” Sirius said into his glass as he took another sip.
“What was that Sirius?” Ginny asked, with the widest eyes and most innocent expression that had ever graced her face. Sirius glared at her.
“I’m going to go talk to Shaklebolt. Excuse me, Ginny, Harry, Neville, Hermione.”
The rest of the evening had Sirius staying far away from her again. She caught him looking at her quite a bit as the party carried on, but at this point that meant he caught her too. Ginny’s punch didn’t allow for subtleties. He stopped looking away immediately and that meant on two occasions, they had just stared at each other for a moment. The partygoers — Ginny included — were too caught up in their own merriment to notice.
Side effect of fun punch, most likely.
New Year’s Eve countdown was a source of anxiety for Hermione. Sirius was nowhere to be found, which meant that Hermione was the recipient of a chaste kiss from Oliver Wood, who’s boyfriend wasn’t able to be at the party. She had no idea who Sirius kissed, if anyone. She only knew that one of her plans had just failed.
After midnight, guests started to trickle out. A few left right after the countdown — Neville and Hannah, both giggling as they made their way to the floo, clearly on their way to shag. A larger exodus of guests occurred at one o’clock in the morning, with Ron leaving with Lavender, loudly proclaiming that they were going to really ring in the New Year at home.
By the time it was two o’clock in the morning, the only people left were Harry, Ginny, Hermione, and Sirius. Ginny had been making eyes at Harry for the past thirty minutes, trying to get him to go up for the night, but he kept finding one more story from the past year to rehash with Sirius. Ginny was visibly frustrated by Harry’s inability to take a hint -- especially as she became more and more overt. She finally just got up, enthusiastically kissed him full on the mouth and then walked out of the room without saying a word. Harry looked stunned for a moment, before quickly finishing the last dregs of his firewhisky.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave. Night Sirius. Night Hermione.”
“Goodnight Harry.” They said in unison, exchanging bemused looks. Now it was just the two of them in the kitchen.
“I guess he missed the fifteen earlier cues to leave,” Hermione remarked dryly.
“Yes. Well, at his age, wizards are not always the best at reading women.”
“And at your age?” Hermione asked, seizing the first clear opening she’d had all evening.
Sirius's breathing stopped, before he quickly regained his more typical nonchalance. But she had seen his composure break, if only for the briefest of moments. I got you, she thought. Now it was just a question of time.
“Well, kitten, at my age, we don’t have time for signals. At my age, we just ask.”
“Do you have anyone that you are currently — asking?” She said, affecting an innocent expression.
His gaze became more assessing as she watched. “Not at present. What the fuck are you doing here, Hermione?”
“I think you know exactly what the fuck I’m doing here, Sirius.” She replied coolly, her expression even. But her hands were shaking, and he noticed.
He took a step back and pulled his pointer finger around in a circle in front of him, a gesture encompassing both Sirius and Hermione together. “This would be a catastrophically bad idea.”
“Why? Persuade me.” She sat down in the chair on the opposite wall; sitting up straight, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her lap, to show that she was paying attention. Of course, sitting up as tall as possible also pushed her chest out, but that couldn’t be helped.
“I’m assuming the young man you kissed at midnight might be disappointed,” Sirius said sharply.
Ahh. Sirius was jealous. “Not at all. I believe Oliver was excited to make his way home to wait for his boyfriend to return from abroad.”
Sirius looked surprised, but he recalibrated quickly. “I am too old for you.” He said flatly, struggling to only look at her face. He was mostly succeeding, for the moment.
Hermione uncrossed and recrossed her legs, drawing his attention there instead. “I disagree. And for that matter, do you think that? Or do you think that other people will think that?”
“Other people definitely think that, Hermione.” He muttered, finishing off his glass and pouring himself another.
Hermione narrowed her eyes. That sounded too specific to be a passing remark. “Who’s talked to you about me, Sirius? Was it Harry? Because I can interrupt him and Ginny and kick his arse, if need be.”
“No, Merlin. It was Arthur Weasley — well, I think Molly put him up to it.”
Of course. Of fucking course it was Molly. Witch was never able to mind her own business!
“Arthur pointed out to me that I am old enough to be your father and I have no business getting involved with someone that young. And I agreed, Hermione.” He turned his chair so he was sitting with his back to the table, facing her as he spoke. Sirius was trying to look stern, but it wasn’t working, mostly because he still had a vaguely panicked look lurking in his eyes.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “First of all, nineteen years isn’t nothing, but it’s hardly insurmountable. Especially not considering wizards can live to be 150 years old. While it’s technically true that you are old enough to be my father, that’s only because wizards decide to mostly get married and have babies immediately out of high school for no discernible reason.”
“It’s not just my age, Hermione — you deserve someone without any of my baggage. You have your whole life ahead of you. You don’t need me dragging you down. And the last thing you need is for the press to get wind about a war hero hooking up with a dissolute prison escapee.”
Hermione snorted with derision. “Well that’s the thing about us, isn’t it Sirius? Everyone thinks that they know us. The Golden Girl of Gryffindor and the Azkaban escapee. I’ve yet to read a single thing written about me that was accurate. Who cares what the bloody press says?”
Sirius tried switching gears. “We are friends, Hermione. Really good friends. You and Harry are my best friends now and I don’t want to jeopardise that by entering into an imprudent relationship.”
She let out a genuine laugh at that. “Sirius Black with a sudden desire for prudence? I don’t think so. And as much as I value your friendship Sirius, I don’t want to settle for it. Not if you want me too. As far as wizards count it, I’ve been an adult for over three years now. So it’s not like anyone can fairly accuse you of waiting to pounce on me the moment I became legal. And since no one in the wizarding world bothered to treat me like a child when I actually was one, I do not appreciate being infantilized as an adult. Besides, you can’t exert authority over me if I don’t recognize that you have any.”
He scoffed, but he kept his eyes trained on hers.
“As for Molly, well. Let’s just say there’s not a large pool of available alive wizards for me to choose from, Sirius. But what pool exists contains a sizable number of Molly Weasley’s sons, so Arthur’s ‘caution’ might not have been as altruistic as it appears.”
“That’s not what — “ and he stopped, considering. Clearly, Sirius had not thought about it in those terms.
“Yeah. More to the point, I’m not actually interested in anyone else's opinion on what we might do. I’m asking for your opinion. That’s the one that matters.”
“I think I will ruin you,” he said darkly.
Hermione shivered. Good. That’s exactly what she was hoping for, although they probably were using the term differently.
“I think you overestimate yourself there, Sirius.” She walked over and took the bottle from the table, taking a swig straight from the bottle before putting back down closer to Sirius than it was before. She put her hand on his face, smoothing a lock of hair away from his eyes. He reached up and grabbed her wrist, roughly to stop her from touching his face again. He sent her a dangerous look.
Oh God, he thought this was dissuading her. She smirked down at him.
“You are playing a dangerous game, kitten.” He said, voice low and tense.
“I’m doing it on purpose, Sirius,” she said evenly. “I want you. I have since before the final battle at Hogwarts. And I don’t want to wait anymore for you to make a move.”
“And this is you, making a move.”
“No, the dress was the move. This is me just asking for what I want.”
“That dress for me, kitten?”
Hermione tilted her head to the side, smirking at him. “Sirius, I only bought this dress so you could take it off.”
He growled as he stood, taking her face in his large hands, bringing her lips up to his and sealing his mouth over hers. She gasped as he moved and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue inside, licking at her mouth. She slid her tongue against his as her hands reached to grab fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him as close to her as she could. Sirius stole her breath with the ferocity of his kiss.
They separated, both panting as they looked at each other. Sirius looked wild eyed and guilty. “Hermione,” he breathed, his hands ghosting over her bare arms as he rested his forehead on hers. He said her name so reverently, that time seemed to stop. She pulled back to look at him and found him looking at her, anguish and uncertainty on his face. And also lust, with his eyes glittering as black as his name. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”
“Agree to disagree,” she said, still breathless. She looked at him through her lashes, trembling and desperate to feel his mouth on hers again. Sirius groaned and moved forward as though he couldn’t escape the gravitational pull she had on him. Their lips met again and the intensity was electrifying. He kissed her like he wanted to devour her as Hermione whimpered, drowning in the sensation that was Sirius Black snogging her at last.
They stopped to breathe and Sirius looked at her intently. “Tell me this isn’t your first time.”
Hermione shook her head, snickering. It wasn’t. “Also, I’m on the potion.” She wasn’t looking to get pregnant anytime soon.
Sirius looked relieved and then something flickered in his expression and he became uneasy again. “It wasn’t Harry, was it?”
“Oh gross! No. Muggle neighbour. No one that anyone here knows.”
Sirius looked an unusual combination of relieved and jealous for a moment, before he got distracted when his eyes landed on her mouth as she bit her lip.
“Are you doing that just to drive me crazy?” he asked in a low tone.
She grinned. “I wasn’t before, but I definitely will be going forward.”
Sirius pulled her tightly against his chest and she squealed loudly in surprise as he apparated them upstairs. As soon as they were in his room, Sirius took out his wand, silencing and locking it. He watched her intently as he walked towards her. He looked so predatory for a moment she took a step back in reflex, bumping the back of her legs into his bed
Sirius hesitated. “You can still back out, kitten,” he whispered softly, his eyes intent on her own.
Hermione felt her ire rise and she glared at him. They had just settled this in the kitchen. “I don’t back down. And I’m tired of waiting.”
He moved towards her, his hesitation gone with her confirmation. “Then I guess I’m going to have you, Hermione.”
“Finally,” she spat at him, just before he grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth under his, claiming her with a bruising kiss. His other hand snaked down her back and grabbed her arse again, harder this time, and he pulled her hips closer to his. Hermione groaned. Yes, yes, yes, she thought endlessly, unable to speak under the relentless assault from Sirius’s tongue.
They broke apart. “Where was this enthusiasm earlier when I had to essentially present you with an itemised list of reasons why this wasn’t a terrible idea?” she asked, her chest heaving.
Sirius looked at her intently. “I’ve wanted you for a while, Hermione. But I didn’t feel that it was my place to pursue you.” He ran his hands up and down her arms, coming back up to her shoulders and resting there. “You know that you are too good for me, right? All else aside?”
“Are you going to talk the whole night?”
He put his hands on either side of her face and brought her in for another kiss, before moving his hands back to her shoulders and sliding her dress straps down on either side. Her dress slid off, leaving her in only black lace knickers and red heels. Sirius stared blankly at her chest for a minute, before bringing his hand up to palm her left breast, his thumb flicking over her pebbling nipple.
Sirius looked at her with an expression of awe, before hesitating. He moved his hand down to her abdomen, tracing over top the golden mark his own magic had tattooed across her skin. He swallowed roughly as he ran his hand across the mark — his mark — almost reverently. His breath hitched as he looked her in the eyes. “You are so fucking gorgeous, kitten.”
“You’re overdressed, Sirius.” She started pulling his shirt out from his pants. She unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his broad, muscular chest and his myriad of tattoos. As extensive as her fantasies of this moment had been, she had not prepared for the reality of having Sirius Black actually underneath her hands. Fuck, she wanted him. Her hands were trembling as she got to his belt. He gently pushed her hands aside and undid his own belt, pulling down his pants and underwear in one smooth motion.
Her jaw dropped. His cock was long and broad, with a thick vein pulsating down its length. She looked up at Sirius with wide eyes. His own pupils were blown -- hardly any of his grey irises were visible -- but he was still obviously holding himself back. “Kitten? You tell me anytime if you change your mind.”
She met his eyes long enough to nod at him before dropping to her knees, crawling forward just a bit, her mouth filling with saliva at the prospect of putting her tongue all over his glorious cock. She looked up at him through her lashes, as she reached out one hand to grasp the base of his erection. She hummed as she licked out her tongue and swirled it on the head, taking the bead of precum into her mouth and savouring the taste of him. Sirius hissed and his hand reached for her head, before pulling back and hovering a few inches away from her hair.
Hermione pulled herself back and smirked, taking his hand and putting it into her hair as she put her mouth back over his glans and started to bob up and down his length. He responded by thrusting into her open, willing mouth as he held her by her hair, the pulling sensation from her curls making her feel feral as she sucked eagerly. She ran her tongue over the ridges of his cock as she tried to take more of him into her mouth, relaxing her jaw as much as possible to accommodate his size. He hit the back of her throat and they both groaned. His hair on his thighs rose slightly, prickled like gooseflesh which Hermione took as sign he was enjoying her efforts and she hummed in satisfaction. Sirius clasped her curls and grunted again, before praise began spilling from his lips.
“So good, kitten. Fuck. Hermione. Merlin, you are doing so good.”
Hermione moaned as she felt a rush of dampness flood her knickers. She increased the pace, moving her hands to either side of his hips, hollowing out her cheeks as she swirled her tongue around his cock. She loved this — loved the feel of him in her mouth, loved to hear him fight not to lose control as she pleasured him, loved that it was almost too much for her to handle. Sirius hissed and abruptly pulled her off of him, a trail of spit still connected her to his rigid length as she made a small sound of disappointment. She looked up at him disapprovingly.
Sirius saw her look of betrayal and chuckled. “If you don’t stop, I will not be able to fuck you, love. And I very much want to fuck you. And to feel you come all over my cock.”
Her pussy clenched around nothing at his words, anticipation causing butterflies in her stomach. She swallowed roughly, her lips swollen and the back of her throat feeling a bit battered. She already missed the feel of his cock in her mouth.
“What about for the second time?” she asked, looking at his cock hungrily, torn between wanting to swallow him whole and needing to feel him fill her completely.
“No second time, not tonight. I’m not able to do this six times in a night anymore.”
“Six?” she asked incredulously.
“Personal best. Before Azkaban, obviously.”
“Charming. But not for me?” She couldn’t keep the hint of bitterness out of her voice entirely, but she tried. There might have also been some light pouting.
Sirius looked at her sternly. “I was in prison for 12 years, Hermione. I’m not in peak physical condition anymore.”
“Fine. So, once in a night.” Again, she didn’t mean to sound resigned, but she had wanted him before she got to see his cock and it had already surpassed her quite high expectations and she hadn’t even got to ride it yet. Hermione was fairly confident that she was going to want to have sex with Sirius as frequently as possible.
He shook his head, smirking at her. “Eh, twice if it’s not pushing three o’clock in the morning after I’ve been drinking. However, I can hold off as long as I want, kitten. Age does come with some perks.”
Hermione broke into a big grin. “And you were going to tell me no.” She reached up, grabbing his face in her hands and now it was her turn to kiss him hard, biting his lower lip before pulling back.
“I’m a big enough man to admit when I am wrong,” he said, grabbing her by the arse and hoisting her up, her legs wrapping around him as he walked the few steps back to his bed. She kicked her shoes off as soon as her feet left the ground.
“Very big man.” Hermione murmured, looking down at his erection pressed against her stomach. She shivered as she recalled how good the ache in her jaw had felt as she tried to take him as far as she could. Sirius laid her across his bed, his hand instantly finding the waistband of her underwear and quickly sliding the black lace down her thighs, past her knees, and off entirely. Hermione got onto her elbows so she could look at him.
“I was never a patient man, Hermione. Not before Azkaban. And then I was forced to wait for so long.” He put his hands between her thighs and wrenched her legs open, moving his shoulders between her ankles, kissing her leg starting just above her knee.
“I could have stayed away from you forever, you know? I would have never pursued you, Golden Girl. But you had to push, didn’t you?”
She did. She really did. And Merlin she was so fucking glad she had done so. Because she wouldn’t have known what it was like to have all of Sirius Black’s attention focused on her if she hadn’t pushed.
From where she was sitting, that dress was hands down the best decision of her life.
“But now?” He licked a stripe from her core to her clit, groaning as he did. “Now, I’m never going to let you go.” And buried his face in her centre, licking and suckling at her folds, devouring her like a man starved. Hermione’s hands were clutching his dark hair before her brain even had time to be aware of the impulse. She moaned and ground her hips into Sirus’s open, searching mouth.
“Oh, God! Sirius —“ her breath caught in her throat as he brought his hand forward and started teasing his finger around her opening, his tongue focused on her clit. Soon, he was easing one massive finger into her tight passage.
“Relax, kitten. I will make this good for you. I take care of what’s mine.”
She groaned at his possessive language, as she tried to heed his words, relaxing her inner muscles as he worked her from the inside. “Good girl,” he murmured before returning his tongue to her clit and putting in a second finger. Oh God — the stretch. She briefly wondered if his cock might actually ruin her. He increased the intensity of his tongue, lapping at her clit as his fingers gently stroked and prodded at her cunt.
Fuck, she was close. She was so close. His fingers curved and hit a spot inside of her that she couldn’t reach and she was taken off guard when her orgasm moved from incipient to all-consuming. She screamed his name as she clutched her hands around his head, grinding against his face as her whole body spasmed, clenching tightly around his fingers. His free hand roamed lazily over her breasts as she came back to herself, breathless and boneless in the wake of her pleasure.
“Ready for more Hermione?” he asked, his voice dangerous and low.
“Oh my God, yes.” If he didn’t put his cock in her right now, she might die.
Sirius smirked as he moved into position. “You are certain?” he asked, his hand around his length, stroking as he shifted closer to her.
“Please, Sirius,” she hissed, unable to stop from quivering with desire and need. Did he want to hear her beg? If so, she could do that. He nudged his cock into her folds, moving the head, circling her clit. She moaned and opened her hips up even more, pushing herself up against him. He chuckled and continued circling. “Sirius, please,” she managed to get out. If he didn’t fuck her soon she was going to start screaming.
“Patience, kitten. I need to take my time. I don’t want to hurt you.”
She would have rolled her eyes at that before they had gotten started this evening, but his size could definitely back up that swagger. She mewled in frustration, looking at him through her half lidded eyes. After coating himself with the dripping mess his mouth had made of her cunt, he lined up the head of his cock and slowly pushed inside her. Hermione squeaked and he stopped. “Did that hurt, kitten? Do you need me to go slower? Or stop?”
“I was not complaining, please don’t stop.” She moved her hips up, taking him in another half inch or so. Sirius groaned, moved his hands back to her hips and continued moving in with agonising slowness, inch by inch, his cock splitting her open until, finally, he was buried in her up to the hilt.
“Fuck. Hermione — you feel so good.” He moaned and then he peppered the side of her neck with small kisses, until he stopped and sucked a bruise into the side, as she writhed beneath him, revelling in the weight of him holding her down. She felt so full.
“Sirius, please move,” Hermione begged him, unable to stop from rutting her body against his, but also unable to move that much underneath the weight of his much larger body.
Sirius pushed up onto his elbows and started to move, withdrawing slowly and entering her again and again. He looked down at her, his eyes black with desire. “Hermione,” he breathed, his voice tinged with something like awe and a lot like love, and everything just stopped. For the first time in her life, she experienced a perfect moment.
It was truly unlike anything Hermione had ever experienced before. Sex with Muggles had meant using condoms. Well, Muggle technically, as it had only been one. Which meant in her limited sexual experience, she had never felt a cock inside her that hadn’t been sheathed in latex. Sirius was already a much different experience — his length was hitting places inside of her that she hadn’t realised existed. But the feel of his own heated flesh thrusting into hers, without any barriers? Fuck. If she had known that sex with Sirius would feel like this, she would have showed up at his house wearing nothing but lingerie as soon as the smoke cleared from Hogwarts.
Sirius moved his hand up to cup her jaw, two of his fingers sliding inside her mouth. Hermione instinctively sucked around them, licking to the rhythm he was setting with his thrusts. “Such a good girl, kitten. Oh, fuck. You take me so well, sweetheart.” Hermione’s eyes rolled into the back of her head and she felt her legs begin to tremble. There was something so right about Sirius laying claim to her mouth and cunt at the same time. Her whimpers increased and tears started leaking out of her eyes as her orgasm hit her with the force of a bombarda. She screamed around his fingers, trembling violently.
Sirius’s eyes were wild, watching her as she clenched and spasmed around his cock. He moved his hand down her throat after she stopped quivering, travelling down her body until he reached her waist. He lifted her hips, repositioning her body on the mattress to suit his pleasure and just started thrusting into her with abandon. The drag of his cock inside her was an exquisite torment — her last orgasm had increased her sensitivity to an extent that it all felt just this shy of too much.
“So good for me. So perfect. Knew you would be. Never dreamed I’d get to find out. Fuck, kitten. I’m never going to be able to let you go after this,” he panted out between thrusts. Hermione wasn’t sure if she was supposed to respond. Actually, she wasn’t sure that Sirius knew he was speaking out loud.
“I don’t want you to ever let me go, Sirius.”
He growled and moved faster. She opened her hips wider, hoping to bring him even closer to her as he pounded into her relentlessly. His thrusting started to stutter. He came inside her and to Hermione’s astonishment, he managed to hit even deeper as he did so. She felt the warmth of his spend spilling inside her and she watched him fall apart, riveted by his facial expressions as he closed his eyes in ecstasy. She had done that to him. He thrust into her a few more time, then they both groaned as he slid out of her. Having felt him fill her so completely, she felt empty as he left her body. She already ached to feel him inside her again.
Where he belonged.
Sirius rolled off of her regretfully, kissing her quickly as he lay down beside her. They lay side by side, panting. Sirius caught his breath and spoke first, his voice low and tinged with apprehension. “This can still be a one-off, kitten. I’m not expecting you to want to stick around, now that you’ve got that itch scratched.”
Hermione rolled her eyes at him. “No. I’m staying.” She summoned her wand and wrote ‘Hermione’ on the bedpost closest to her, carving the letters into the wood. “See, this is my spot. It has my name on it.”
“You’re serious?” His voice was hesitant, but at least he didn’t seem annoyed with her for defacing his furniture.
“I thought you were?” She smirked at him and wrote ‘Sirius’ on the bedpost closest to his side.
To help him remember.
“Kitten…” he said, his voice now low and threatening. She squirmed. He noticed with new interest.
“Do you like that? When I call you kitten?”
“It used to drive me mad. Until it very much didn’t. Maybe stop calling me that when we have company, yeah? I might not be able to control myself,” she grinned at him.
“Hermione, you are going to be the death of me.”
Hermione let out a laugh. “I doubt that. In fact, I think your odds of living longer would greatly increase if I were in charge of you.”
Sirius snorted and brought her closer. “What are we going to tell Harry?”
“That we are dating. And we don’t need his permission, but it would be nice if he could accept it.”
“And if he says no?”
“Then I actually will kick the shite out of him. Ginny will help me do it, too. It won’t be his answer for long.”
“You’re sure? You want this for more than one night?”
“I wanted you for more than one night before I had a chance to see what I was getting. Nothing that just happened is dissuading me, Sirius. You may have in fact just ruined me — for other men. And it wasn’t hyperbole when I told you that I only bought that dress so that you, Sirius Black, could take it off. That was the literal intended purpose when I bought it. Last month.”
“Well, then I guess you are stuck with me, kitten.”
Hermione shivered and snuggled into his arms, breathing in his scent. Finally.
“Good,” she said, decisively. He kissed her forehead and she could feel his answering smirk against her skin.
Harry and Ginny slept late as well, so they did not see Hermione kissing Sirius at his door in the morning, as they left bleary eyed to go make breakfast.
Harry also didn’t notice any change as he stumbled into the kitchen a half an hour later, brought downstairs by the smell of Hermione and Sirius making breakfast together. Ginny was close behind him, gratefully accepting the coffee Hermione made for her before sitting at the table, snuggled against her still-yawning boyfriend.
Hermione and Sirius had already eaten, so they were in the process of clearing away dishes and cleaning up, moving around each other in the kitchen with ease. Sirius put his hand on Hermione's shoulder as he passed her on the way to the sink with the pan he’d used to fry sausages and Hermione smiled up at him, tenderly.
“Oi! What’s going on here?” Ginny asked loudly, causing Harry to flinch away from her and cover his ears.
“Merlin, Ginny! It’s too early and I’m too hungover for this. Sirius, do you have any hangover potions?”
“I took the last of mine last night.”
“‘Mione?”
“It’s in my bag, give me a minute.” She shot a warning glare at Ginny, who just smiled, leaning back with her arms crossed, looking very satisfied.
Hermione passed the potion to Harry, who took it gratefully, rubbing his temples as it took effect. “Now what were you screaming about Ginny?”
“I think something finally happened, but I’m waiting on confirmation.”
Sirius leaned against the back wall, his arms crossed as well, waiting. Ginny looked from him to Hermione. “So. How was it?”
“Ginevra. Not helpful.” Hermione said in a tone full of warning.
“What? I assume it’s the only reason you wore that dress.” Ginny winked at the shocked expression on Sirius’s face. “Also, I’ve seen you two before. You’ve been dancing around this a long time, possibly since my brother's wedding. It’s about bloody time, if you ask me. Why do you think I was trying so hard to get Harry up to bed? If that kiss hadn’t worked, I was going to come back and just throw my knickers in his face.”
Hermione had just taken a sip of her tea and she fought hard not to choke.
“Oh, they finally hooked up? I thought maybe Hermione just crashed in a spare room.” Harry said, eating his pancakes with more vigour now that the potion cleared up his hangover. “I thought you two would get around to it eventually.”
Hermione smiled affectionately at her dear friend. Sirius dropped his hands by his side and stood up straighter. “You don’t have a problem with me and Hermione being together?”
“Well, if you hurt her, it’s going to be awkward when I have to kick your arse. But otherwise, no. I don’t have a problem with you two.”
“Bold of you to assume there’d be anything left of him to kick.” Hermione murmured, with Ginny catching her eye and nodding with a wide grin.
“I wouldn’t hurt her, for the love of Merlin. But you’re serious, Harry? This isn’t a problem for you?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure that you are Sirius.”
“Oh, fuck me.” He muttered under his breath, looking up at the ceiling, his expression pained.
Ginny smirked so hard that Hermione wouldn’t be surprised if she pulled a facial muscle. “Pretty sure Hermione already took care of that, Pads. I don’t think you need my boyfriend’s assistance on that front.”
“Ginny.” This time it was Hermione’s voice that was low and full of warning. She turned to face Sirius, gesturing at Harry. “It’s even more annoying when you do that. Turnabout is fair play.”
Harry grinned at his godfather. “I love both of you and I just want you to be happy. If you make her happy and she makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks, Harry.” Sirius appeared to be choked up by receiving Harry’s blessing. Hermione couldn’t resist rolling her eyes.
“Yes Harry, thank you for respecting my personal agency and recognizing I have the right to make decisions about my own body. Much obliged.” Her ire was actually directed at Sirius, which they both knew. Sirius had the grace to look mildly chagrined. Harry just rolled his eyes back at her.
Hermione put down her cup of coffee and put her arms around Sirius’s middle, bringing him into a big hug. It wasn’t as desperate as their hug in the immediate aftermath of the war. It was peaceful, with the promise of more such embraces to come. She breathed in deeply and snuggled closer to him, as his arms held her and he kissed the top of her forehead. She sighed in contentment.
Mission accomplished.