Author's Note: Basically, this is a post-war Sirimione one-shot. Nobody died, Hermione works at the Ministry and lives in Grimmauld Place with Sirius, Harry and Ron. Everything else is explained in the fic. This simply wouldn't leave me alone, so here it is. Enjoy!

Thanks, Worthfull1

P.S. I own nothing, anything recognizable belongs to the lovely J.K. Rowling.

Bad Day

Finally, Hermione thought to herself as she closed the front door to Number 12 Grimmauld Place behind her, today is finally over!

It had been a hellish day. She'd woken up tired from staying up half the night stuck on an arithmancy equation that really had nothing whatsoever to do with the report on Finnish house-elf rights she was supposed to spend the evening working on, and she knew it was going to be a difficult day when she'd stumbled down to the kitchen to find that they'd run out of coffee. Dressing quickly, she'd hastily put her hair up in a sloppy bun that was just going to have to be good enough, and ran out of the house with the intention of stopping in at the muggle cafe on the corner for a to-go coffee when a passing car had sent an enormous spray of water her way.

Hermione took a deep breath, counted backwards from ten, and walked calmly back to the front step of Number 12 where she dried her clothes with her wand under the protection of the house's muggle-repellant wards so the people on the street couldn't see her. Trying again, she successfully made her way down the street and procured a scalding-hot cup of caffeine from the cafe.

That was the last thing that went right for her.

The next ten hours were spent arguing with other departments, making copies of documents that should have been archived weeks ago but had been lost somewhere in the shuffle, and ignoring the snide comments from the assistants down the hall who were absolutely convinced the Hermione had slept her way into her position as Under-Secretary of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. This was, of course, false. She'd gotten the position because the Head of the department was an old friend.

After the war, when Kingsley had been made Minister of Magic, he'd immediately cleaned house. Several Heads were sacked, assistants fired, and for the first time in recent memory, the Ministry had hired new people instead of simply shifting around the ones who had been there since before Hermione was born. New blood was brought in, and Kingsley had been careful (and perhaps a bit partial) in appointing the staff. Instead of half-way decent glorified paper-shufflers, he'd specifically gone for those who had at least a smattering of knowledge about the department they'd be working in.

Case-in-point, the new Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Remus J. Lupin. It had taken some convincing on Kingsley's part (and a whole lot of hinting and badgering from everyone else) to get Remus to accept the position, but in the end, he caved. With the stipulation that he was free to hire whomever he wanted for his staff, of course. Kingsley had agreed immediately; he knew it would be important for Remus to surround himself with people he knew he could trust and people who wouldn't question him because of his condition. Naturally, Remus' first appointment was Hermione Granger.

Immediately after his meeting with Kingsley, Remus had floo'd over to Grimmauld and practically begged Hermione to come and work with him. He'd even gone so far as to give her his best puppy-dog eyes. Remus may have fought in two wars, faced feral werewolf packs and had the balls to marry into the Black family when he said 'I do' to Nymphadora Tonks, but he was honestly terrified of being the Head of any Ministry Department. It wasn't just the unwelcome publicity that made him uneasy, it was his lack of administrative knowledge. Sure, he knew all about being a magical creature, and he knew how he wanted to be treated by the Ministry, but 'regulating' and 'controlling' were not things he was experienced in. The closest he'd come was being a Professor to school children, and you couldn't exactly give adults detention when they didn't turn in their homework.

Hermione had, in fact, jumped at the opportunity. She'd gone back and forth after the war about exactly what she wanted to do now that it was all over and, nearly a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, she was no closer to making a decision. Molly had offered her a bedroom at The Burrow, but she'd taken Sirius' option to stay at Grimmauld instead. While she loved the Weasley's, she knew living there would be nothing but a trap, and after her 'romance' with Ronald had fizzled out (surprisingly peacefully), she was glad to have the relative peace and quiet of the old house. Yes, she did live with Harry, Ron and Sirius, but they had been very respectful of her privacy, and if she really wanted to avoid them, all she had to do was hole up in the expansive library.

Tonight, though, the sitting room with the warm fireplace and the comfy sofa beckoned her. Not bothering to go upstairs to change clothes, she simply plopped herself down, kicked off her shoes and tossed her bag behind the sofa. Snuggling into the plush cushions, she closed her eyes momentarily and let the silence of an empty house wash over her.

"Bad day, kitten?" came the deep, sexy voice of the master of the house, Sirius Black. Hermione jumped slightly, having not heard him enter the room, and turned her head to look at him. He smiled at her and she returned it.

Dressed in all-muggle attire, Sirius Black was every girl's dirty dream. Motorcycle boots peeking out under blue jeans, prison tattoos peeking out from under the unbuttoned collar of his deep-purple button down shirt, and a black leather jacket completing the vision, he could easily be on the cover of one of Ginny's trashy romance novels. And that was to say nothing of his face. Deep-set steel-grey eyes, aristocratic cheekbones, and wavy black hair that was just barely beginning to show signs of grey had witches and muggle women alike turning his way when he walked down the street.

Hermione watched as he walked over to her sofa, shrugging off his jacket along the way, took the seat next to her, and proceeded to lift her sore foot from the coffee table and knead the poor sole with talented tattooed fingers.

"You've no idea," she replied finally, stifling a moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"Shall we order out tonight?" he asked quietly, taking in her exhausted look.

Hermione nodded tiredly, deciding that she would give herself the night off. As a general rule, she did all the cooking as her male house-mates were worse than useless in the kitchen. It was true that during her year on the run with Harry and Ron, she hadn't had a clue how to cook, but after everything had settled down, she'd spent some quality time with Molly and had absorbed all she could from the matriarch, finding that she actually enjoyed it.

"Okay, that one's done - do this one," she said, taking her foot from Sirius and placing the other one in his hands. He arched an eyebrow at her and she pouted pitifully at him, ignoring the heat in her belly that flared up whenever his eyes were on her. Sirius smirked, but obediently began rubbing the new foot.

"What shall I send out for?" he asked.

"Elf-made wine," she said, pouting at him again. He chuckled. This must have been a very bad day for her to skip supper completely and go straight for the alcohol. Pulling out his wand, Sirius flicked it in the direction of the kitchen, summoning the wine and two glasses into the room and directing them to pour themselves while he went back to her foot. Pausing briefly, he also summoned a loaf of bread and a wedge of cheese. She needed to eat something, especially if she planned on drinking.

"Was Moony mean to you today?" he asked teasingly. "Because you know I'll kick his arse for you if you ask me to."

Hermione laughed. "No, of course not. I love working with Remus, it's everyone else that sometimes bothers me."

"Poor kitten," Sirius purred, his deep voice calming and seductive at the same time. Hermione quickly tamped down the arousal that resulted from the combination of Sirius + foot rub. She was never quite sure just how good his canine senses were, and she knew she'd never live it down if she found out that he could smell her emotions like Remus could. Hermione knew that the thoughts (and sometimes dreams) that she'd had about the sexy Marauder were highly inappropriate, and she knew that if they ever came to light, she'd have to move out, and she didn't want to do that.

What she didn't know was that the man in question was having the same dilemma. He had originally offered her living quarters at Grimmauld because she had been dating Ron at the time and knew that the young couple would not want Molly walking in on anything - er, intimate. Sirius hadn't forgotten what it was like to be young and frisky and he had no problem with letting them do whatever they wanted, whereas Molly would almost certainly have frowned on certain activities. It had surprised him somewhat, however, when Hermione had wanted her own room.

That had been a rather awkward conversation. He had assumed, apparently incorrectly, that Ron and Hermione would want to share a bedroom, but when Hermione showed up with her things and it fell to Sirius to help her move in because Ron had an Auror class, she had seemed confused when he told her that Ron was staying in the twins' old bedroom...

"Okay," she'd said, "should I just... pick a bedroom, then?" Her voice was timid as she shuffled from foot to foot.

Sirius had cocked his head at her, not understanding. "Pick a bedroom?" he'd asked.

"Well, yes, for me to stay in. Unless, of course, you've changed your mind and would rather I didn't live here..." she'd trailed off. "Which is fine, of course - "

"Hermione," he'd interrupted. "I think we're having two different conversations. Let's start over. I have not changed my mind, you are perfectly welcome to live here as long as you like, and Ron is staying in Fred and George's old bedroom."

Yes, I understand that," she'd said, a bit huffy at his suggestion that she wasn't comprehending something. "But where am I sleeping? Not with Ron, that's for sure." That brought him up short. He didn't know how to respond to that.

"Oh," he'd ended up saying, watching as realization hit the poor girl in front of him and trying desperately not to laugh as colour flooded her cheeks.

"Oh," she'd repeated, unable to meet his eye. Sirius lost his battle against the giggles and snorted.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he'd said, recovering slightly. "I assumed you would be living with Ron." Standing up, he moved in front of Hermione and smoothed his hands up and down her arms, trying to soothe her discomfort. "Of course you can have any room you like. You know how big this house is, you can have three rooms if you like - I'll bust through the walls and make it into a suite for you. Why don't you take the room you shared with Ginny - that one's got it's own bathroom."

Hermione had nodded, still not looking at him, and began levitating her things up the stairs.

"Shall I help?" he'd asked.

"No!" she'd said quickly. "I mean - I've got it, thank you, Sirius."

Sirius had succeeded in holding in his laughter until she was out of the room, but only just. Running a hand over his face, he decided that he would give her some space before trying to apologize again for his faux pas.

Later, he'd returned to the house from his evening motorcycle ride and had been assaulted with the most delicious smell coming from the general direction of the kitchen. Thinking that one of the boys had brought home take-away, he headed towards the source of the aroma, only to find Hermione at the stove. Leaning against the door frame, unnoticed, he watched her work.

Hermione Granger had grown into quite the beautiful young witch. Sirius tried to picture the frizzy hair and large front teeth that he'd seen when they'd first met years ago, but it was impossible to associate that little girl with the slender, delicate-featured young woman in front of him. Where there had once been a bird's nest on top of her head, there were now unruly, sex-hair curls. Where there was a rather noticeable (but not unattractive) over-bite, there were now straight, white front teeth, and where there had once been nothing at all, there were now all the curves she needed, without being plump.

Sirius suddenly felt old and a bit ashamed of himself. Where had the time gone? Had he really missed that much, or had he just neglected to see it because of his platonic relationship with her? It was wrong to find her attractive, wasn't it? One thing was for sure - the next time he and Remus met up for a butterbeer, Hermione was going to be the topic of conversation. He needed his old friend's guidance for these tricky waters.

Thinking that it would probably be a bad idea to sneak up on her, since she clearly hadn't heard him come in, he retreated quietly back into the hall and walked up to the kitchen again, making sure to make noise this time around. It worked. As he entered the room, Hermione turned to him and smiled, blushing as she did so. Wanting to clear the air sooner rather than later, he walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her middle. She stiffened slightly, and he kept his hold loose so as not to scare her off.

"Something smells good," he said, grinning.

"Spaghetti," she answered, relaxing and smiling back at him. "You do like spaghetti, don't you?" She bit her lip, the innocent movement not looking so innocent to Sirius anymore. Yes, he really needed to talk to Moony.

"I like anything I didn't have to make," he said, recovering well and making her smile again. "You know you don't have to cook for us, though."

"I know, but I've found that I rather like doing it, so unless you don't want me to..." she let the sentence hang.

"Do whatever you like. I just don't want you to feel like you have to," he said.

"I don't," she said cheerfully, making him chuckle. "I'm sure there will be plenty of times we'll get take-away."

"I'm sorry, by the way," Sirius said after a moment. She stiffened again in his arms.

"For what?" she asked, feigning ignorance. That wasn't going to fly, though - he wanted to clear the air.

"For assuming you and Ron were further along than you are. It wasn't my place to assume anything of the sort and it certainly wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable," he said clearly. She blushed again.

"That's alright, Sirius. I suppose it was a reasonable assumption to make. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable either," she said, gathering her courage and looking him in the eye. His grey eyes softened as he smiled at her.

"Of course you didn't. As Remus will tell you, it's impossible to embarrass me," he answered, sounding just a bit proud of himself.

She laughed at that and threw her head back, resting it on his shoulder. "I believe you," she said, smiling back at him.

As it turned out, having Hermione live with them was a good arrangement. Even after she and Ron broke up, the house continued to be peaceful and happier than Sirius could ever remember it being. Most nights Hermione would make supper, they would sit down at the kitchen table like civilized humans, share a bottle of elf-made wine and commiserate about their day. Her presence in the house kept the boys from becoming total slobs, but she never nagged them unless she had a good reason.

Frequently, Harry and Ron had to take night classes for their Auror training and Sirius and Hermione would spend the evening in the sitting room, sharing a sofa and swapping stories about their Hogwarts days. Sirius would transfigure the sofa into an over-sized reclining chair and they would snuggle up in it together, him playing with her hair and she undoing a couple of buttons on his shirt in order to trace a few of his tattoos. Sirius didn't know why, but his tattoos seemed to fascinate the young witch. He'd almost leapt out of his skin the first time she'd undone a button to get at his chest, not knowing what exactly she was trying to do, but all she did was trace the slightly faded ink.

Over time, their platonic relationship changed, although neither was willing to admit it to the other. Hermione began to see Sirius as so much more than Harry's godfather, and Sirius was confronted more and more frequently with the fact that Hermione was most definitely not a child any longer. The sight of Sirius walking into the room in jeans and his leather jacket started doing funny things to Hermione's brain and body, and the smell of him was intoxicating to her. Musk and leather, with just a whiff of petrol, and she wondered what would happen if she were presented with Amortentia. At one time, the love potion had smelled like Ron to her, but she had a feeling that may have changed.

For Sirius, things were worse. Being no novice in the field of lust and desire, he knew exactly what was happening. And he knew exactly what would happen if he didn't get a hold of himself. Every once in a while, he would escape into muggle London, find a pub and go home with a bird, just to get it out of his system. He never brought them back to Grimmauld. Not only because it was a wizarding dwelling, but also because he didn't want Hermione seeing that. He was sure she knew, but knowing something in the abstract and seeing it firsthand were two different things, and he didn't think he could stand it if she looked at him with disappointment or disgust in her eyes.

Those 'outings' became rare, though, when he discovered that it wasn't doing it for him anymore. In fact, he'd almost moaned Hermione's name while balls-deep inside a woman before realizing that would sound bad, especially since he didn't know the woman's name. Barely able to pass it off as a groan, it had made him aware of the fact that pretending wasn't working anymore. There was only one woman he really wanted and she was not an option, so he was resigned to simply worship from afar. It was difficult, though, when she came home from a hard day's work and he couldn't resist rubbing her pretty feet.

"Sirius," she said, breaking into his reverie. "Do I seem like the type who would sleep her way to the top?"

Sirius stopped working on her foot and turned to give her an incredulous look. "What the hell sort of question is that? Of course you don't! Where on earth did that come from?"

She shrugged sheepishly. "It's a rumour floating around the office that the only reason I have my position is because I'm sleeping with Remus."

"Ridiculous. They're just jealous, you know that," he replied, going back to her foot. "Does Remus know?"

"Oh, Merlin, I hope not! He'd never look me in the eye again!" Hermione exclaimed, making Sirius laugh, knowing it was probably true.

Transfiguring the sofa into their recliner, Sirius wrapped his arm around Hermione and tucked her into his side. She told him all about her day while sipping on her wine and nibbling on the bread and cheese he fed her. After a while, she stopped talking and he looked down to find her fast asleep with her head on his chest and her wine glass slowly slipping out of her hand. Chuckling quietly, he took the glass from her and gently picked her up, her head falling onto his shoulder.

Moving up the stairs toward her room, Sirius felt her stir against him and nuzzle into his neck. Ignoring this as she was asleep, he continued up the stairs and down the hall. Hermione, however, seemed to have other ideas. Believing herself to be dreaming and having had this dream before, she nuzzled his neck again, letting out a little purr at his masculine scent. Sirius' eyes widened but, again, he ignored this.

When she nuzzled him a third time and went so far as to place a soft kiss to his Azkaban brand on the side of his neck, however, he could no longer ignore it. Growling slightly, he reached her bed and dropped her onto it. The growl combined with the jolt of being dropped served to convince Hermione she was not, in fact, dreaming. She froze, watching Sirius carefully as he sat on her bed, bracing his arm on her other side and effectively trapping her.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I thought I was dreaming and - "

"You thought you were dreaming?" he asked, his voice slightly rough.

"Yes, I've had that dream before - " Hermione gasped and put her hand over her mouth as she blushed bright red.

"You've had that dream before?" Sirius repeated slowly.

Hermione's eyes widened even more as she stared at him as though trying to decide whether or not he was angry with her. He was, of course, far from angry, but she didn't know that. Blinking rapidly, she nodded, breaking eye contact with him and casting her eyes down in shame. Sirius took a moment to fight back the wave of lust that had burned through him and reached up, gently turning her face back to his.

"What does that mean, Hermione?" he asked her, keeping his voice soft. "You've had what dream before?"

Hermione bit her lip and cringed, refusing to look at him.

"You've had a dream where I carry you to bed and you sweetly kiss my neck?"

She nodded. Sirius growled again. Startled by the sound, Hermione looked at him, tears forming in her eyes as she opened her mouth to apologize. He stopped her, putting a finger to her lips. His eyes flickered to her mouth briefly.

"What happened then?" he whispered, watching her blink in confusion.

"Wh - what?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"What happened in your dream after I took you to bed?"

"Sirius - please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean - "

"Shh - shh, kitten," he purred. "I'm not angry with you. What I am is insanely curious. You see, if you've had dreams that are even half as... interesting... as the ones I've had, I'd really like to know about it." As he was talking, Sirius leaned over her so that his lips were barely hovering over hers.

At this angle, she couldn't help looking him in the eye. He was right there! She could see how deep his grey eyes really were and she could smell him so powerfully now. If only she had the courage to raise herself up just slightly, she could kiss him. She was afraid, though. She hadn't been in enough of these situations to be able to read them properly. She was relying purely on instinct, and if there was one thing Hermione hated, it was not being prepared for any eventuality.

"I don't understand," she whispered. Sirius cocked an eyebrow. She couldn't really be that inexperienced, could she?

"I'll explain then, shall I?" he said, his voice both soothing and seductive as he held himself just out of reach. "I want you."

She blinked. "It's not really that simple, is it?" she asked. Hermione wanted him to tell her that she was special, promise that he wouldn't treat her like his casual 'acquaintances', let her know that this wasn't just a one-off for him.

Sirius took a deep breath. "No, it's quite complicated actually, but that's what it boils down to. My 'normal' way of doing things isn't working for me anymore, and that's because of you. I always had an idea in my head of the kind of woman I wanted, and I had given up on finding her. Turns out, she does exist, I just wasn't looking in the right place. Instead of going out, I should have been staying in."

Hermione's eyes searched his. "I know you prefer tea in the morning and coffee after supper," she said, watching his face. "I know you always slip a little firewhiskey into your coffee instead of cream or sugar. I know you pace around the house as Padfoot when you can't sleep and don't feel like going out. I know you sometimes still have nightmares. I know you don't like cigarettes, but you sometimes smoke cigars. I know you don't wear cologne and I know you prefer muggle clothes to wizard's robes."

Sirius was shocked. He liked to think he wasn't so easily read. "How do you know I smoke cigars?" he asked, genuinely curious since he only smoked those when having a boy's night out with Remus.

"I smelled it on you the last time you and Remus went to the Leaky. I... I liked it," she admitted, biting her lip. Sirius' eyes darkened just a bit at the action. He knew what game she was playing, though. She wanted him to tell her that she was important enough to him that he'd learned all of her habits like she'd done his. As it turned out, he did know all her habits.

"Well, I know that you prefer coffee in the morning and tea in the afternoon, but neither after supper. I know you like Chinese tea better than Earl Grey. I know you don't like to eat breakfast, but you're starving by lunchtime. I know you still brush your teeth even though you know the spell because it reminds you of your parents. I know your favorite kind of chocolate is dark chocolate with mint. I know you buy sensible clothes, but wear sexy underwear because it makes you feel pretty and I know that you occasionally indulge in one of Ginny's romance novels, even though you'd never be caught dead buying one yourself," he finished, watching her blush at that little tidbit.

Hermione was nervous. This was happening very fast, but she trusted Sirius. No matter what sort of reputation he had, she knew he was not a player. He never made promises he didn't intend to keep and he never used fancy words and cheap pick-up lines. True, she'd never been there when he'd picked up a woman, but she knew him well enough to know that he wasn't that sort of man. Sirius didn't need all that cheap garbage, and he had enough pride and self-respect to not cheapen himself by using it. She was going to make absolutely sure, though.

"I'm not a one-night stand, Sirius," she said as gently as possible. She wasn't trying to offend him, just trying to protect herself.

Hurt flashed briefly across his face, but Sirius quickly schooled his features. "I suppose I deserved that," he admitted, "but you know I would never treat you that way, Hermione. You're very precious to me - you always have been."

That was good enough for Hermione. Raising herself slightly off her bed, she took the plunge and pressed her lips to his. She felt his shock and then his acceptance, and before she knew it, she was being pressed into her mattress and snogged within an inch of her life. His sheer passion amazed her and she gasped, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. Wrapping her arms around him, she pulled him closer, arching her back and pressing her chest into his. Sirius growled in response and ran his hand up her side, sliding it under her shirt.

Sirius could tell that, despite her relationship with Ron and the one or two other blokes the boys liked to tease her about, Hermione was still fairly inexperienced. Because of this, he slowed down a bit, wanting to give her time to adjust. Having a few make-out sessions with Ron certainly did not qualify her to take on a man like Sirius - who had been shoving his tongue down girls' throats since long before she was born. Sirius stroked her tongue with his, allowing her to feel him and taste him and when she was ready, explore him.

Hermione felt him shift and lay fully on the bed and, a moment later, felt one leg move in between hers and felt his knee press against her centre. She gasped again and broke away from his mouth, looking up at him in surprise. The smug bastard grinned at her and ground his knee into her while his hand traveled north to cup a lace-clad breast. He noticed her slightly nervous look and turned his grin into a reassuring smile.

"We go at your pace, kitten," he told her, gently kneading her breast. "I want you to tell me if you're uncomfortable or not ready for something, okay?"

Hermione nodded and relaxed some.

"Shall I close the door?" Sirius asked, laughing as the horror of having Harry or Ron walk in on them in their current position showed itself on her face. He pulled out his wand and flicked it lazily in the general direction of the doorway. The door closed and locked itself, and Hermione felt the silencing charm go up. "Now," he turned back to her, "where were we?"

Hermione smiled at him and began undoing his shirt buttons. Sirius stayed still (mostly) and let her get a good look at the designs she so carefully traced whenever they shared the sofa. Finishing with the buttons, she pushed the fabric aside and, for the first time, got a good look at Sirius Black's chest. Sure, he regularly walked around the house shirtless, but Hermione had done her best to not stare, so now was her chance. Sirius rolled onto his back to give her better access.

Runes, paw prints, names, dates and even a lily cradled by a set of antlers decorated Sirius' torso. Hermione ran hesitant fingers all over, relishing in his hisses and growls. When she came upon a scar next to a tattoo of a moon surrounded by paw and hoof prints, however, he stopped her.

"Let's not dwell on the past, kitten. What's done is done and that's all there is to it," he said, and she suddenly realized that the scar was probably where Peter had been.

"Did you do this yourself?" she asked softly. Sirius' silence was confirmation enough. Hermione broke eye contact with him to lean down and place a kiss to the spot.

When she pulled away Sirius grabbed her head and brought her back up to his lips. Kissing her thoroughly, he tried to bring them back to where they'd been a moment ago. He succeeded. Hermione shyly let her fingers return to his chest as Sirius boldly returned his hand to the breast he'd been playing with earlier. Mewling, she arched into his hand, encouraging him.

It wasn't enough. She wanted skin against skin. In an act of showmanship even she didn't know she was capable of, Hermione sat up, ripped off her blouse and reached around herself to unhook her bra. Getting it undone, she slowly let the straps slide down her arms, watching Sirius' face as she did so. His eyes darkened even more and his lips curled into a snarl as the fabric fell away and he leaned up on one elbow. Hermione barely had time to toss her bra over the side of the bed before Sirius' free arm went around her waist and he flipped them so that he was on top.

Hermione cried out as bare fingers found bare nipple and Sirius' mouth found her neck. Leaving hot, wet kisses on the sensitive skin, he slowly made his way down her collarbone to the breast his fingers weren't tending to. His eyes flickered to Hermione's and he smirked at her before taking the nipple into his mouth. Hermione's fingers threaded through his hair as his tongue swirled around the hard bud. Sirius bit down gently and she responded by pulling his dark locks and moaning.

"Sirius, I want you," Hermione said breathily. Sirius stopped suckling her and raised his head to look her in the face. Bringing one hand up, he brushed her hair away from her face, loving her flushed look.

"Are you sure, kitten? We don't have to go there tonight. Like I said, we go at your pace," he responded quietly.

Hermione nodded. "I'm sure, Sirius. Take me."

Sirius stared at her for a moment, then sat back on his heels. Reaching for his wand, he waved it over her stomach, casting the contraception spell, then put it back on her nightstand. He removed his shirt completely, then took off her shoes, tossing them carelessly behind him and making Hermione giggle. Her skirt was next, slowly unzipped and peeled off her body, leaving her in only her knickers. Sirius ran his hands all over her bare flesh, enjoying the feel of her silky skin, before reaching for the grey lace. He hooked his fingers around the sides and prepared to take them off as well, but Hermione stopped him.

"I think you're overdressed," she whispered shyly, biting her lip and flushing even more.

He smirked at her, but complied. Standing, Sirius kicked off his boots and socks, then undid his belt, carefully watching her face. Hermione's eyes were fixated on his fingers, but she didn't look scared. She looked hungry. Taking his time with his jeans, he popped the button then slowly dragged the zipper down. He stopped, waiting for her to meet his eye again and, when she did, dropped his jeans and underwear in one swift go. They pooled at his ankles and he stepped out of them, then climbed back on the bed and laid down on his back.

Hermione didn't wait for permission, she immediately reached out to touch him, but retracted her hand just as quickly when he groaned.

"Sorry!" she hastily apologized.

"No, no - that was good, very good," Sirius said, taking her hand in his and kissing her fingers before moving it back to his cock. He guided her movements at first, showing her how he liked to be touched, then let her go when she got the rhythm.

Hermione couldn't help but stare as she pleasured him. Just because she was a virgin didn't mean that she didn't know what sex was; she did - it just never felt right to do with Ron, and since the wizards weren't exactly banging down her door, she hadn't had the opportunity to experiment with anyone since. This was the first time she'd ever touched someone this way before and she found herself loving the power it gave her. It turned her on to know that she was turning him on.

There was something she wanted to try, though. She'd read about it fairly extensively in Ginny's romance novels and even though she had no idea what to expect, she was feeling bold, and something told her Sirius wouldn't judge her for being curious. Moving into position, she glanced up at the man she had literally by the balls. By now he had his eyes closed, which worked for her. Grinning to herself, she leaned down...

"Bloody fucking hell!" Sirius shouted as he felt a warm, wet tongue come in contact with the weeping head of his cock. His eyes flew open and he looked down to see a pair of whiskey brown eyes looking up innocently. She bent down again, but he stopped her, grabbing a handful of curls. "Hermione, wait," he said, desperately trying to maintain some control. "Sweetheart, you don't have to do that. A lot of women don't like it, it's okay."

"Can't I try?" she asked, biting her lip again. Sirius growled at the thought of her lips around him and nodded. He raised himself onto his elbows - he wanted to see this. Hermione looked surprised by that, but he cocked a challenging eyebrow at her, so she narrowed her eyes in determination and went back to work.

Reading about giving a blowjob and doing it were two vastly different things as Hermione soon found out, but she didn't dislike it. The taste left something to be desired, but the feeling of having a man like Sirius Black completely at her mercy was worth it a million times over. She took him as far down her throat as she could (which wasn't very far) and worked her hands over the part she couldn't fit in her mouth. Hermione didn't really have anything to go by, but Sirius sure felt well-endowed to her. Instead of scaring her, however, she found she couldn't wait to have him inside her.

After a few minutes of growling and cursing and clenching the sheets below him in an effort to keep himself from grabbing her head and shoving his cock down her lovely tight throat, he took a handful of her curls and gently tugged her away from the swollen flesh. He was too close and he needed to be inside her when he came. She curled up to his chest while he calmed himself down and, after asking one more time if she was ready, Sirius flipped them once more and Hermione suddenly found herself on her back watching Sirius lick and nibble his way down her body.

Paying special attention to her sensitive nipples, he worshiped each one equally before continuing southward. He kissed and nipped at her hipbone, making her mewl at him, then took her knickers in his teeth and began dragging them down her legs, revealing her to him. Once they were off, he brought them to his face and inhaled deeply, growling at her scent. Musky and aroused, Hermione smelled like youth and beauty, and Sirius made a mental note to steal those knickers as he tossed them onto the floor.

Hermione instinctively tried to close her legs, but Sirius was having none of that. Gently parting her knees, he settled himself between them, tossing her legs over his shoulders as he lay on his stomach. He gave her a wink, then turned his head to the side to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses on her thigh, steadily working his way to her pussy. Sirius wrapped an arm around her hips to keep her from bucking as he dropped his head and licked her once, making her cry out.

It was an odd sensation at first, but she quickly got used to it, her trust in the man between her legs helping to relax her. Before long, she'd grabbed a handful of his hair and held on for dear life as he worked her rapidly to her first orgasm. By the time it hit, she was convinced that he had, in fact, three tongues because he seemed to be everywhere at once. She cried out his name as she moaned, and he growled into her cunt, causing interesting tremors. Hermione hadn't noticed that he'd stopped and crawled back up her body until he kissed her hard, forcing her to taste herself and making her moan again.

She did notice, however, when he reached between them and suddenly there was something much larger than his tongue pressed against her entrance. He questioned her with his eyes and she nodded, wrapping her arms around him and relaxing as much as she could. Sirius took a deep breath and gave one solid, swift thrust, breaking her open and making her gasp. He grunted once and his head dropped to her shoulder, but he held himself still and she was grateful.

Hermione panted out her discomfort and when she was ready, dug her nails into his back and rocked her hips. Sirius exhaled heavily, then began to move. Keeping his thrusts slow and steady at first, he reached down and grabbed her hip to hold himself in check. It had been an awfully long time since he'd deflowered a girl and he'd forgotten how tight a virgin was. It wasn't long, though, before she needed more.

"Sirius," she moaned into his ear. "More..."

Sirius raised his head and looked down at her while increasing his pace. Her lips swollen, her cheeks flushed... she was perfection and his jaw clenched with the effort to make her come first. He decided to test her. He rammed himself into her once to check her reaction. She immediately tightened around him even more and her eyes got wide. Sirius nodded knowingly and his lips curled into a smirk. He leaned down to her ear.

"You think you can handle more, kitten?" he whispered hotly to her, gauging her reaction to his dirty talk. "Hmm? You think you can handle me?"

Hermione's arms tightened around his back and she rolled her hips at him again, causing him to chuckle. He ran his hand down her thigh to her knee and hitched it around his waist, changing the angle slightly. As it turned out, this was a good angle, and he hit something with his next thrust that made her buck and squeak in surprise.

"There, huh?" he asked rhetorically, thrusting harder and deeper - Hermione's moans becoming more frequent. He reached between them again and started fingering her clit, having decided that he wanted her to come around his cock twice that night. The effect was immediate. Her body went rigid, her eyes went even wider and the sound that came out of her mouth was something Sirius had never heard before and damn near did him in. He was able to hold off, but just barely, and he had to stop all movement as she calmed down.

It took Hermione a minute to regain her senses, and when she did, she realized he was still hard as a rock inside her. She looked up at him questioningly and the look he returned was predatory. Sirius pulled out with a hiss and got onto his knees. He reached for her and she went willingly, kissing him hard and passionately. He allowed it, but only briefly, before turning her around and positioning her on all fours.

"I asked you a question, kitten," he growled, moving in behind her.

"Wha - ?" she said breathlessly.

"I asked if you thought you could handle me. I want an answer."

A thrill went through Hermione at the sound of his voice and the feel of his cock pressed against her once more, and she decided to be bold. She turned her head and looked him in the eye.

"Fuck me," she said.

Sirius slammed into her with a roar and she screamed. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled, keeping her in the position he wanted while he pounded into her with everything he had. Hermione was completely overwhelmed - she'd always suspected Sirius could be wild between the sheets, but nothing had prepared her for the beast behind her literally fucking her brains out. She forgot where she was, forgot what led to this, nearly forgot her own name as the pounding continued. He seemed to never tire; if anything, he got faster and Hermione realized he was chasing his own orgasm.

Apparently, this involved - to Hermione's delight - an awful lot of grunting, growling and cursing. She'd always secretly loved Sirius' foul mouth, even though she'd never admit to it, and right now the stream of filth coming out of him was doing the most wonderful things to her. Reaching one hand down to where they were joined, she fingered herself, wanting to come with him. Sirius noticed and, with a grunt, batted her hand away and reached for his wand. Untangling his other hand from her hair, he gripped her hip to keep her in position, shouted 'Vibratio!', and pressed the now-vibrating wand tip against her clit.

Hermione shattered into a thousand pieces. Her vision went fuzzy as her body thrashed and bucked, the only thing keeping them connected being Sirius' bruising grip on her hip. All her muscles seized and she clenched so violently around his cock that he stopped breathing as her body milked him. Their shouts echoed off the walls and would certainly have brought Harry and Ron rushing in if it hadn't been for Sirius' expertise at silencing spells. Finally, they collapsed in a heap on the bed, trembling and panting.

Sirius pulled out of her with a groan and rolled to the side, flopping bonelessly onto his back. Hermione landed on her stomach, too tired to even consider rolling over. She watched, fascinated, as he caught his breath, hardly able to believe that she was responsible for his current state. After a moment, Sirius turned and looked at her. Her naturally unruly hair was all over the place, her skin still flushed from their exertions, and he could see bruises beginning to form on her hips. He frowned at this.

"I'm sorry, kitten," he said, reaching over to stroke the abused flesh. "I didn't hurt you, did I? I didn't mean to get that rough with you."

Hermione smiled at him. "You didn't hurt me, Sirius. I loved every minute of it." She laughed at the cocky grin he shot her.

When she was breathing normally again, she shuffled over and snuggled into him, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his sweaty chest. Sirius flicked his wand and covered them with Hermione's sheets, then settled in and closed his eyes.

"You know, it's funny," Hermione said sleepily.

"What's funny?"

"When I got home, I thought today had been a bad day."

Author's Note: I really tried to make this shorter ;) Please review! And if you like this, check out my SB/OC story 'I Want You To Be My Acrobat'.

Thanks, Worthfull1