Remember - The ideal nutrition source for an author is 'Reviews'

Disclaimer - These are not my characters. I just like to play around with them.

She Don't Know She's Beautiful

Hermione walked down the staircase slowly, making sure she didn't slip in her heels. She had taken ages to tame her hair, always preferring the muggle way to the magical, but had eventually used Sleekeazy's Hair Potion to smooth it out. It was tied up in an intricate twist with a few loose curls hanging over her shoulder from the bottom, special thanks to Lavender, who did it all for her.

As she took one slow step at a time, she lifted her gaze away from the stairs and down to the crowd, which had gone completely silent. Confused, she looked around awkwardly until she caught Harry's eye, inspecting her from afar, a relaxed, boyish smile on his face. She smiled, a little more comfortable, but still conscious of her appearance.

Everyone continued to stare at her as she descended, and she wondered whether something had gone wrong with her outfit, the worst of scenarios plaguing her mind. Hermione looked down at herself and brushed the layers of her dress with a sweep of her hands before looking back up and tucking a curl behind her ear.

She turned, her attention now captivated by the Bulgarian Quidditch star who had somehow seen something in her; something that she herself failed to notice. Hermione placed her hand on his outstretched arm and was escorted into the Hall, as she smiled giddily towards Harry.

Sirius removed himself from the pensieve, confused at whether he should be angry that another man had ever been that close with her or laugh and shake his head at her obliviousness to her own beauty and charm. She really was a unique witch, one he intended to entice until she succumbed to him and came to him willingly. After many months of celibate pining and planning, and three months of going out with her, he was getting restless.

He sighed, watching her chest rise and fall rhythmically as she lay in peaceful slumber. Her chestnut hair was splayed wildly over the soft, white pillow, like a halo hovering above her head, giving substance to her celestial presence. His eyes traced her, from her messy locks, to her plump lips and slender arms. The quilt that lay tucked over her chest did little to hide the highs and lows of her voluptuous physique, one that he admired more than any other "socially acceptable", slim woman he had dated in the past. He stared her, this simple, smart, stubborn witch that had caught his eye and held his fancy; she had him wrapped around her fingers, making her wishes his commands like a love-sick puppy, and she didn't even know why. It was one of the things he loved about her, but also one of the things that frustrated him. She had an unnaturally positive effect on everything around her, but she failed to see why. She was a sprite and his goddess, but her breathtaking persona was outlined with sincere modesty.

Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at his face, floating inches away from hers, gazing at her. The corners of her mouth twitched and he saw the slightest hint of a frown before she lifted her hands to over her face.

"Sirius, you're staring at me," she whined.

"Good morning." He kissed her forehead, and began to move her hands away from her face.

Hermione turned to her side and buried her face in his shoulder, laying her hand gently on the side of his neck. He pulled her close to him, their chests pressing against each other, and let out another sigh. They had been going out for seven months and last night was the first night they had spent entirely together, returning to their own rooms in the past because the household had been unaware of their relationship. That was changing now, and once they were all past the initial shockwave and disbelief, everyone had come to accept their relationship, save for Ron, but that was expected. Sirius knew that Hermione had always dressed up to the best of her abilities, uncertain of her natural qualities, when they went out together, despite the fact that he had told her many times how beautiful she was without the cosmetics.

He had seen her in her bare and natural way when she would roam around the house or sit on the carpet in one of the empty rows in the Black Library, researching or just reading for the pleasure of it. But she chose to dress up for him, shutting up his rant about how unnecessary the make-up was by telling him that she wanted to put effort into their relationship. And when that explanation failed, as she put effort in when he woke in the night with the fear of nightmares that haunted him from his years in Azkaban, she would just lean in and kiss him to make him drop the topic, and that always did the trick.

Sirius turned so that she was on her back and then lifted himself away so that he could look at her again.

"Merlin, please! Don't. I'm a mess." She lifted her hands again but he stopped her this time.

"You're beautiful," he said matter-of-factly. It was a simple response, but his voice was hushed and the look in his eyes was confusing to her. She didn't know what to make of it.

Hermione turned and looked the other way, lifting herself on her elbows so that she could see her reflection in the dresser mirror, "You've got to kidding me." She rolled off the bed before he could pull her back down and strode into the washroom, Sirius hot on her heels.

She'd barely closed the door when he squeezed through and whipped them both around. He pushed her back against the door, which closed with the force, and put his hands on both sides of her, smirking playfully down at her.

"Sirius!"

"Mione?"

"Stop it! Let me get dressed." She hit his arm and tried to push him off her, but he just pressed himself closer.

"I'd rather see you get undressed."

Sirius winked at her and she blushed, looking down and resting her forehead against his chest to hide her shyness, which only got worse when she realized that she was only wearing her pajama shorts and a strapless bra, while he was in his black boxers, desire evident.

"But I look like I've come back from the dead!" she mumbled into him.

"When will you see that I can't take my eyes off you, love? When will you see just how god damn beautiful you are?" He said this as he tilted her chin up so that she faced him again.

"Don't fool with me."

He knew he had to convince her. After a difficult break up with Ron, she had been left more insecure of her appearance than before. They had parted with harsh words from both sides, her commenting on his lack of understanding and him throwing insults about her "boring, bossy face" and "bloody fat weight", to which she retorted with a few revelations about his diminutive manhood and skills in concern. It was amusing to listen to, but Sirius knew that behind her smart replies, she was hurt.

Sirius leaned down and placed gentle kisses on her eye lids and her cheeks, tracing her jaw line down to nip lightly at her neck. He ran his tongue along her clavicle and then moved back up to her parted lips.

"I'm not Mione. I would never. I really do think that you're the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on."

It was true. He earnestly believed that she was a god-send.

And with that, he closed the space between them and kissed her with all he had in him. He would make her believe, no matter how long it took.

No need to send me a basket of cupcakes. All I want is a few words. ;)