Hey guys. This is my first Harry Potter fanfic up here! I'm a little unsure about a couple of things... for example, the length, the plot... yeah, basically, everything. So I'd like to request some constructive criticism - no flaming! - and also some stuff you liked, so I know how to write to peoples' tastes. Thanks x

New A/N added 4/01/11: Okay so I realised that after writing in that Fred had died, I put his name in quite a lot by accident. I've changed it, and I hope I haven't missed anything but if I have, don't hesitate to tell me so I can change it.

Disclaimer: Yeah, haha, no. I don't own anything you recognise, as much as I'd like to.

Hermione Granger sat back and heaved a sigh of relief.

No, not relief: contentment. After five long years of continuous work, she had finally cracked it. A satisfied smile spread across her face as she imagined how happy Harry would be.

She had broken through the Veil.

Finally, nine years after the death of Sirius Black, he would return. Or so she hoped. Harry had lost all connections to his father: Remus, Sirius and Pettigrew were all gone, although the last one wasn't worth mentioning. But now… now, he was getting a part of his past back.

Carefully stacking her papers, she inserted them into an official brown envelope with a flick of her wand. She sealed it and cast protective spells on it, charming a stamp to automatically inscribe TOP SECRET on the top flap. Marching past her colleagues with a barely disguised spring in her step, she fairly bounced to her supervisor's office.

Thierry Claptor, Head of Department of Mysteries, read the gold plaque on the door. Twenty-five years her senior, Hermione held her manager in high esteem. The two had become good friends over the years – to such an extent that she burst into his office without bothering to knock; and held out the envelope, brandishing it in front of his eyes. Thierry, who had been about to take a sip of tea, dropped his cup.

Turning to glower at Hermione, he simultaneously muttered a drying spell to clean his robes. He opened his mouth to speak – and was met with a stress ball shoved into his mouth and the words 'Veil – Final Data' staring his in the face.

For a minute, he was speechless.

Then, with surprising speed, he jumped up and twirled her around, laughing with happiness. Carefully opening the envelope, he peered inside as though he thought it might spontaneously combust.

"This is the one?" He whispered, hardly daring to believe it. "The spell?"

"Yes," she replied confidently. "You speak the incantation and then the name of the individual you wish to… bring back, for want of a better term. It's pretty safe to assume that the people who have passed through the Veil aren't really dead, furthermore…" she trailed off as she noticed her manager heading for the door.

"Thierry…?" she asked, slightly put out at being cut off in the middle of her sentence. "Wh-where are you going?"

"To try it, of course," Thierry shot back with an arched eyebrow.

"No need to show it to the Minister?" Although the Minister is Kingsley, he'd approve nearly everything I asked for, she thought privately.

"Unspeakables, remember?" he asked, miming zipping his lips.

"Right," Hermioned murmured. Five years in the job and she'd never gotten used to keeping her work entirely secret. It was sometimes difficult, keeping things from Harry and Ron – but bless them, they understood that some things were meant to be secret and they did not ask her any questions. "Well, the spell requires a minimum of two people at least," she tried to amend. "It's quite draining."

But Thierry was gone. Peering around the corner warily, she spotted him striding towards to plain, black door at the end of the corridor. "Well, hurry up!" he tossed over his shoulder as he noticed her still standing by his office door. "You think I'm going to put this spell to work without the brilliant, fantastic witch who invented it?"

She smiled. "And who might this witch be?" she quipped.

"Shan't tell," he replied, dragging her over the threshold of the door. "Suffice to say she can learn any spell in the world much, much faster than I can – and that's saying something."

Still pulling her by the arm, he yanked her through an identical black door. She was still marvelling at his sense of direction when he came to a stop.

Although Hermione had been in this room almost constantly over the past three years (two had been spent in research), she still shuddered every time she entered it. The events marking the beginning of the Second Wizarding War had occurred here, in a fight comprising of two teenagers – one with a broken nose – against twenty or so Death Eaters. The arrival of several Order members had saved their skins, but Hermione hadn't seen the action firsthand as she had been unconscious for the duration. But apart from that, the fact that Sirius had died here made it almost horrifying for her to be in the room.

"Hermione," Thierry said suddenly, breaking her out of her trance. "Shall we do it?" She nodded breathlessly. "Who?"

"I was thinking…" she said quietly. Thierry looked at her questioningly, wondering at the change in her tone. "Sirius Black," she told him.

"The convict?" he asked with interest.

"Ex-convict," she snapped. "His name was cleared – after he was killed in this very room, I might add. He is – was – is a good man," she said forcefully, although stumbling slightly over the tenses. She had gotten to used to thinking about Sirius in the past tense – and then a quiver of happiness tingled inside her as she realised that she would soon be able to think about him in the present.

"Shall we begin, then?"

Hermione looked up into the slightly lined face of her senior. "We shall."

She raised her wand, focusing with all her might on an image of Sirius. She knew Thierry was doing the same; he had read the file.

"Three – two – one – Seprato Veilum Sirius Black!" she cried, hearing Thierry's voice uttering the same incantation beside her. And she opened her eyes just as a cool, refreshing blast of light exploded from the tips of her wand and his; the two rays joining together and piercing the centre of the Veil.

And the Veil split apart.

Volley after volley of turquoise light radiated from the still-fluttering Veil on the plinth. She shielded her eyes and squinted, waiting and hoping with everything she had.

And then the most beautiful thing of all: a man stepped out.

He was tall, with black hair falling into his eyes. As the blue haze around him died, he turned to face her, grey eyes boring deep into brown.

"Bloody hell, Sirius," she found herself saying. "You really were a looker when you were younger, huh?"

He let out a bark-like laugh; it rang around the room.

"It's good to be back, Hermione." He stepped forward, off the plinth, and looked properly at her for the first time. "Hermione, what - "

Thierry's hand grasped her arm, steadying her on her increasingly shaky legs. "You're pale, love. Maybe you should sit down, spell probably took a heavy toll - "

But she heard no more. A frantic rush of voices, a flash of grey eyes and then blue ones, and she fell forward into darkness, where unbeknownst to her, a pair of strong arms caught her before she hit the floor.

"She's coming to."

Hermione stirred, cracking one eye open.

"Hermione!" someone shrieked, pulling her into a crushing hug. Although she was still groggy, the shock of black hair obscuring her vision was more than enough to identify Harry by. "I don't know how to thank you, 'Mione," he said, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks. Laughing, she reached up to wipe them away.

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't need repaying!" she told him.

"But - "

"All through Hogwarts, and even after that, you've been my best friend. You've stuck by me when others would have shunned me for my bookish ways or for being a Mudblood." His eyes narrowed at the word and she paused, looking his straight in the eyes. "This is me repaying you, Harry," she said softly. Fresh tears welled in his eyes and he sat back, brushing them away with a self-conscious laugh.

"Have it your way, Hermione, but Sirius won't let it go. Doubt Ron will, either. Urgh, look at me, crying like a sap." He sniffled as a few more tears pushed their way out.

"Where is he, anyway?" Hermione asked, suddenly noting the conspicuous absence of a red-haired person. And another black-haired person, her mind added.

"Ron? Getting sloshed with Sirius at the Leaky Cauldron." Hermione raised an eyebrow. Harry shrugged. "Quite a valid cause for celebration, don't you think? Our resident genius making a breakthrough." He winked, and she grinned in return.

"No, that's not what I meant," she said. "I was meaning to ask why you weren't with them."

"I wanted to be here when to woke up – to thank you. And I – I need your advice," he told her, blushing. Intrigued, Hermione sat up. "I'm proposing to Ginny tonight," he admitted, and found himself the unwilling recipient of a very constricting hug.

"I'm so happy!" she squeaked, beaming. "Oh, it's good that you didn't go with them, Harry, it wouldn't do to propose while you were drunk. Or hungover," she added as an afterthought.

"My thoughts exactly," he agreed. Almost bursting with happiness, the duo set off down the stairs of Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

And the front door burst open, and two very drunk men stumbled in, still brandishing bottles of Firewhiskey. And even though Mrs Black started shrieking, even though Ron stepped on her foot, her eyes inexplicably found another, stormy grey pair and through all the mayhem and pain in her foot, she saw the joy in those eyes and thought that the moment could not be more beautiful.

Brown eyes locked with grey for the second time that day and before she knew what she was doing, she was running, throwing herself into his arms, the same arms that had caught her a few hours prior. They wound around her now, holding her tight.

"Thank you so much for catching me earlier, Sirius," she whispered. He pulled back to look at her.

"You nut," he told her. "You're really thanking me? I should be bloody prostrating myself at your feet! Merlin knows you deserve it." Ignoring Harry's yell of 'By all means, do so!', he kept eye contact with Hermione and spoke to her with utmost sincerity. "I can never repay you for this, Hermione. You brought me back, young again, alive. I can be with my godson, live my life as a free man, all thanks to you. If there's ever anything you need – anything – you call me." Her chocolate coloured eyes softened and she touched a hand to his cheek before stepping out of his arms.

"Too much talk of repaying!" she exclaimed, shooting Harry a mock stern look. He grinned lazily, leaning back against the wall.

The moment was broken when a loud snore burst out of Ron, who was passed out on the floor.

"Knew he'd pass out soon enough," Sirius muttered, hoisting an unconscious Ron onto his shoulder.

"Er," Hermione began, hurrying over to him. "Should you really be doing that when you're close to going the same way?"

"Hermione," he sighed, now setting off up the stairs. "I'm drunk. But not that drunk. Boy can't hold his alcohol," he grumbled, pulling Ron more securely onto his shoulder. "Er – which room?"

"The one he slept in in fifth year," she told him. She heard the sound of a body being dropped to a mattress and Ron gave another rasping snore.

"How exactly did you intend to get him up the stairs, anyway?" Sirius asked, reappearing at the top of the stairs.

"I am a witch, Sirius," she told him dryly, twirling her wand. "You must be more addled than you look, seeing as you carried Ronald up the stairs instead of using a Levitation charm." She paused as he entered his old room. "Harry's been sleeping in your room with Ginny but I supposed you'll want it back, so he'll do fine in the room Fred and George were in, there's another bed for Teddy, too…" he barely paid attention to the last part of her sentence as a new though occurred to him.

"Hermione, where have you been sleeping?" he asked, frowning.

"Regulus' room. Although I do sometimes sleep on the on the couch if it gets a bit… overwhelming in there."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know how to explain it – hell, I don't even know if it's real," she scoffed, "but sometimes I could swear that his room is… haunted." She whispered the last work, casting her eyes downward.

"Haunted?"

"Not in the usual way. When wizards pass on, they can leave an imprint of themselves If they choose, yeah? It's not like that. I hear his voice, Sirius. He sounds so much like you. Whenever I'm there… he talks to me."

"Just you?"

"Just me," she confirmed.

"And what does he say?"

"He wishes he'd had a chance to stop your mother from throwing you out. To tell you of his mistake in joining the Death Eaters. To tell you how much he admired you but hadn't had the guts to tell you. He'll be so happy you're back, Sirius."

Frowning again, Sirius pondered her words. But in the middle of his thinking, he was distracted by two arms wrapping around his waist.

"Don't think about it now," Hermione told him. "Smile! You're alive, your godson's alive, Kreacher's standard of cooking is better than ever…"

He smiled again, ruffling her hair. "You're right."

"There's still much to be sad about, of course," she said, her eyes slightly unfocused. "War deaths we have still not recovered from." A lump formed in her throat as she remember the three whose absence no amount of happiness could fill.

Sirius felt as if the sides of his throat had sucked closed. "Who?" he whispered, terrified, his heart thumping.

"It's not a good time right now. You should be celebrating, not thinking about death. I… I apologise for bringing it up."

"Hermione." He took her by the shoulders and shook her gently. "I need to know. Who?"

"Fred," she finally whispered, her heart tearing at the names. "Remus. Tonks."

A bottomless pit opened in Sirius, he was going through Lily and James' deaths again, endless, agonising grief, so fresh and clear he wanted to drown in it just to make it go away… he was alone, the only Marauder left on this Earth…

He was barely aware that he was shaking and crying, that Hermione was stroking his hair and apologising over and over.

"They have a son," she said. The four words cut through the haze of pain and his head snapped up to look at her.

"A son? Remus and Tonks… got married?"

"His name's Teddy. Harry's the godfather, I think he'll be going to pick Teddy up from the Burrow sometime soon…"

Wiping away the last of his tears, Sirius straightened up and looked Hermione in the eye. "Let's go see Regulus' room, shall we? Been standing in this hall for quite a while now," he said with a small smile. It did not reach his eyes.

Hermione. How come you're in here so early? I – Sirius?

"Yes," Hermione confirmed tearfully. "He's here, Regulus. He's back."

Sirius. Siri. Hermione, can he hear me?

"Yeah, Reg. Yeah, I can," Sirius breathed with astonishment.

Damn. Thought I'd never see you again.

"Likewise," Sirius agreed, inclining his head in confusion. He paused, apparently battling with himself. "But – how is this possible?" he burst out.

Look under the bed. And Hermione, just for the record – you're a nut. I can't believe you automatically assumed I was a ghost. Aren't wizard ghosts generally visible?

Sirius ducked, kneeling down to peer under the old bed. Spotting the dusty edge of something long and rectangular, he grasped it an pulled it out – to reveal a portrait with Regulus leaning smugly against its frame.

"But - " Hermione began, "but then why did you ask if Sirius could hear you?" she stammered, too confused to be angry.

I couldn't resist, he admitted, sounding slightly apologetic. You're just too gullible, Hermione.

Both Black brothers chuckled and she pulled herself together enough to send them a glare. "Oh piss off, Regulus," she snapped. "I'll leave you two to it, then. Suppose you have loads of catching up to do." She strode out of the room, sparing a moment to smile at Sirius. Then the door closed with a snap and Sirius and Regulus looked at each other, the Black brothers finally reunited after countless years.

"So basically, he regretted ever joining the Death Eaters, but he owed your parents and they were pushing him in that direction…?"

"That's about it. He helped me escape, you know? I'd forgotten all about it in the light of his deeds at Hogwarts. By the time I graduated, I'd completely cast him off."

"Sirius…" Harry asked tentatively. He twirled some pasta around his fork meditatively. "You never told us – what exactly happened that day when your mother…"

"Kicked me out?" Sirius laughed harshly, stuffing a forkful of salad in his mouth. "Well, I'd been feeling lousy for a long time – I was confused, y'know, not sure if I really wanted to be a Black or not. All the Pureblood bullshit, I didn't go by it.

-Flashback-

"Fuck you, you little twit!" Walburga Black screamed, flinging a vase at Sirius' head. Sixteen-year-old Sirius ducked and it shattered against the wall behind him.

"You think our ideals aren't good enough for you? You think we aren't good enough for you?" his father roared from his wife's side. "Want to bloody have sex with Mudbloods and Muggles, is it?"

Sirius backed up, to the door of his room. He ducked again and dived to the side as two spells zoomed towards him.

"Sirius?" Regulus' voice called from the side. Risking being hit, Sirius turned to look at his younger brother.

"No! Reg, you don't want to see this…"

"See – what?" Regulus called back, rounding the corner. "SIRIUS!" he shouted on seeing his parents, wands drawn, attacking his older sibling.

"Regulus!" his mother shrieked, brandishing her wand. "Don't you dare talk to this little shit, he's not worth your time! You are a true Black!"

Sirius watched the rebellion take light in Regulus' eyes and launched himself at Regulus, breaking the banister and sending them tumbling into the stairwell. He cast a Cushioning charm as he did so.

"What the hell was that for?" Regulus groaned from under Sirius.

"I can't let you ruin your family life like I have. I'm out, Reg. I gotta go…" Sirius heaved himself off his brother and Summoned his trunk and belongings. He headed for the door and his hand was almost on the doorknob when a voice from behind him alerted him to his mother's presence.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked icily, wand drawn.

Sirius drew his own wand. "Away from you," he spat, tensed for whatever spell she was about to throw at him.

He saw the resolve form in her eyes, but he was too late to block her spell.

"Crucio!" she shrieked, her wand shooting a jet of light towards her son. Pain, as hard and unforgiving as white-hot metal spiked out from his chest into every part of his body, burning and twisting and tangling into his veins. And he was screaming and screaming, he didn't register falling to the floor, didn't see Regulus stealthily stunning his mother and helping Sirius to his feet.

He came to on the road, Regulus bending over him. "Sirius. I'm going to call the Knight Bus. You get yourself to… wherever you're going. What are you going to do, money-wise?"

Sirius smiled at his brother; it almost seemed like he was the older one. "I've been planning this for ages – I just meant it to go a bit quieter. I have a separate account, I've been funnelling money from Mother's into it for a long time."

"You're all set, then," Regulus said, trying to be brave.

"Don't let her get to you, mate," Sirius advised, hauling himself to his feet. "Be a good boy – do everything she says. It's the best way to avoid punishment." He averted his eyes, trying not to think about how his own blood had just used the Cruciatus curse on him.

"She'll force me to join the Death Eaters now." Regulus whispered. "If she lets me off without punishment for helping you go, I'll be in her debt. I will have no choice."

"Reg," Sirius said gently. "Whatever happens, it's in the future. There's no way they'll let you be a Death Eater until you're of age. Calm down, live in the present. I'll see you at school, yeah?"

Regulus nodded, a grin making its way onto his face. It didn't reach his eyes, but Sirius pretended not to notice. He flung out his right arm and with a startling BANG, a violently purple bus materialised in front of him.

"Potter mansion, d'you know where that is?" he asked the conductor.

"Yeah," came the reply. "Get in, I'll take care of the trunk."

"Take care, little brother," Sirius called over his shoulder with a smile. Regulus waved, still grinning. Then the doors closed and they were away, he was leaving for good…

"I can't really describe how it felt, you know, leaving this place forever. So utterly exhilarating, I had trouble not jumping around the Knight Bus. My only regret was leaving Regulus."

"Your own mother – used an Unforgivable on you?" Hermione breathed in horror, her spaghetti lying forgotten on the table. Sirius gave her a sad look.

"Oh Merlin, Sirius, I'm so sorry…" Ginny said softly.

"Must've been hard for you to come back here," Ron noted.

"Yeah. But remember, it was Order headquarters. I didn't like it. But it was a lot more fun when you lot were here," he said with a shrug.

"So, what happened to Regulus, then?"

"Debts owed are very powerful magical contracts. Mother didn't punish him when she woke up, but in return she demanded he join the Death Eaters as soon as he graduated. He also," he continued in a more significant tone, "ordered him to cut all contact with me. I often wondered why he never replied, why he would never speak to me in school. But in time, I stopped trying."

"And now you're finally back together again!" Hermione couldn't help bursting out tearfully. Sirius looked over at her and laughed, his bark-like chuckle breaking the tension.

"Yes, we are," he said simply, pushing his empty plate away. Kreacher popped up out of nowhere to replace it with a bowl of apple pie.

"Damn, Kreacher. What did Harry do to you?"

"He was nice to him, Sirius," Hermione said dryly. He shot her a mock glare and she grinned playfully.

"Eh, it's true," Sirius shrugged. "But if I'd known his cooking was this good, I'd've been as sweet and pleasant as a Chocolate Frog."

"I don't even think that's possible," Harry muttered from across the table, and soon enough the five of them were laughing, tears of joy running down their faces. And then they left the table, the ice cream on their pie totally melted and Kreacher looking hurt at the abandonment of his food.

The next two weeks were torture. She was happy to have Sirius back, of course, but she was developing a bit of an unhealthy obsession.

Since Harry and Ron were stuck at the Ministry for Auror work and Thierry had given her two weeks off, Sirius took to popping in at the most random times.

He'd stuck his head into the bathroom while she was taking a shower, making her shriek and cast an Obscuro at him, slamming the door in his face.

He'd Apparate into her room while she was concentrating intensely. This resulted in her automatically firing a Jelly-Legs Jinx at him and kicking him out, simultaneously casting an anti-apparition charm on her room. Sirius was forced to wobble around the house until Harry and Ron came home and took pity on him.

And then there were things he did inadvertently: brushing her fingers with his as he passed her the salt, arms brushing as they crossed in doorframes, softly singing as he helped her to make dinner, rolling up his sleeves as he attempted to wrench his mother's portrait off the wall. Hermione helped with this one; between the two they managed to wear down the Permanent Sticking Charm.

And his smile, it drove her insane. The white flash of teeth against sun-darkened skin made her heart falter.

"Ginny," she asked one evening as the two prepared dinner. The men were out, no doubt up to no good.

"Yes?" Ginny asked as she diced up mushrooms.

Hermione chickened out. "Can you pass the carrots? I need to add them to the stew."

She tried again after dinner, as they were washing up. She needed to talk to someone, to get an answer as to whether this whole crush was wrong.

"Gin?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I…" she trailed off as she noticed Sirius, Harry and Ron rip off their shirts and dive into the pond in the back garden. "Ugh, I hope they cast a cleaning charm first," she muttered, trying not to think about the infuriatingly perfect body Sirius had. The Veil had definitely done him good.

"You know them. They haven't."

"They'll get typhoid. And then they'll regret it," Hermione warned darkly.

Ginny laughed, scrubbing a plate. "You were going to ask me something, yeah? What was it?"

"I, erm…" She stopped again, blushing. "Take a hypothetical situation. Where a girl fancies a boy but can't act on it in case her best friends get angered. What should she do?"

Ginny didn't even hesitate before answering. "If her friends really are friends, they'll understand," she told Hermione, dunking another plate into the soapy water. "Who is it, anyway?"

"I… don't think I can tell you yet," Hermione said reluctantly. Hurt instantly appeared on Ginny's face and she hastened to make amends. "It's not that I don't trust you or anything stupid like that. But I don't want to tell you in case nothing happens between me and this man." Ginny stared suspiciously, but appeared mollified.

"But you'll tell me if something does happen?" she checked.

"I promise," Hermione vowed.

"Sirius. Get lost," Hermione tried to say clearly through her inability to breathe. In recent days, she'd found herself more and more affected by the tall, grey-eyed man.

"Why, love? You don't want me anymore?" She avoided his eyes, staunchly refusing to acknowledge the butterflies in her stomach that had sprung up at the word 'love'.

"No. I'm working. You can annoy me later," she sniffed, a brave attempt at her usual dismissive tones.

"I don't think I will," he murmured, making her jump. She hadn't noticed him moving closer.

"Sirius. Personal space," she tried – and failed – to command.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he whispered in her ear, his breath blowing strands of hair across her face.

"N-no," she stuttered, twisting away. He twisted with her, coming up right in front of her face, so close. She backed up slowly, as prey would from a predator, and he followed, his teasing smile telling her that he was just playing, that he just did it to grate on her nerves.

"You don't want me so close by?"

"No…?" she said uncertainly, one hand braced on the wall behind her.

"Are you sure?"

"Ye – no," she sighed, giving in.

"What was that?"

She shot him a dirty look. "Shut up."

And then his lips descended on hers with a fiery passion and it was like nothing she had experienced with Ron. He traced her lips with his tongue and pulled back briefly to –

"Hermione! Wake up!" Sirius called from the doorway of her room.

"Fuck," she groaned, dropping a pillow over her face.

"You okay?" he asked, ripping the pillow away from her face. She glowered at him.

"No. I had a bad dream." But even as she said it, she tasted the lie. It had been a good dream. A very good dream.

"What was it about?"

"Erm - " It was an almost-sex dream about me and you. "Just…" a wish that'll never come true. "It's - " not like you'll ever see me that way.

"What, love?"

"It's nothing," she gave up. "It's not important."

"Anyway…" she said slowly in a wildly transparent attempt to change the topic. "Why'd you barge in an interrupt my beauty sleep?"

"I heard you moaning, a lot. In a very X-rated way, if you get my meaning," he said with a wink.

"What?"

He must've seen the horrified look on her face and burst out laughing. "Just joking, love. The Weasleys are downstairs, it's almost dinner time. Molly's calling you."

Face flaming in embarrassment, she sat up, the sheets falling away from her torso. Nonchalantly, she climbed out of bed and slid into a pair of shorts and a tank top. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his eyes widen at her purple bra and knickers. Revenge is sweet, she thought smugly – but there was no denying the shiver of satisfaction at Sirius' very obvious once-over.

Picking up her cloak and heading for the door, she cast a glance at him over her shoulder. "Coming?" she asked sweetly. His eyes narrowed at her tone, but he didn't comment, motioning for her to carry on.

The duo headed downstairs, Hermione with the back of her neck tingling from Sirius' staring. Looking up at the wall, she shivered as she made out the glaring faces of House Elves in the gathering dusk. And finally, the tension became too much for her and she spun around abruptly, ending up nose to nose with Sirius.

Anchoring herself in place to keep from staggering back, she narrowed her eyes warningly at him. "Stop staring at my arse!" she hissed, resisting the temptation to smack the smirk off his face.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked slowly, in much the same way as he had in her dream. A blush crept up onto her cheeks and she clenched the bottom of her shirt, willing herself not to tremble under his gaze.

"No," she said firmly, although her haughty tone was marred slightly when her voice broke.

"No?"

"Yes. No! Ah, fuck," she groaned, pushing him aside and striding to the door. "Shut up before I castrate you," she warned over her shoulder before turning the handle and entering.

"Hermione!" came a dozen happy cries. She gladly stepped into the room, feeling a contented warmth spreading through her at the love everyone in the room had for her. Molly Weasley scooped her up in a hug, chiding her about not visiting the Burrow often enough. Harry and Ron grinned and waved from the side, enjoying her misery. She flipped them off when Molly wasn't looking and she heard laughs from the other men in the room.

As soon as Molly let go, another pair of arms scooped her up into a hug. "We missed you!" George declared.

"Mmh, sure you did," she scoffed, ruffling his hair.

"No, seriously, you haven't been to the shop in too long," George told her seriously. "You have to swing by soon, we need some help on a couple of products."

"I will, soon," she promised, kissing his cheek.

"Hello, Hermione. My, it's been quite a while!" Percy said politely, shaking her hand. She tried not to laugh, opting for a slightly insane smile instead.

"Yes, it has been, hasn't it. How are you, Percy?"

"Very well, thank you. This is my acquaintance, Audrey," he said awkwardly, motioning to a slim brunette at his side. She rolled her eyes.

"He's still slightly uncomfortable with the word 'girlfriend'," she told Hermione with a smile.

"He'll come around," interjected another voice. She turned to see the last two Weasley sons, and her face broke out into a smile.

"Bill! Fleur! Oh, and little Victoire!" she cried, her excitement at seeing the toddler making her forget poor Charlie, who was waiting patiently beside the fire. She kissed Fleur on the cheek, exchanging a few words in French. Bill received a quick, tight hug and Victoire a tickle on the tummy and a gentle pinch on the cheek.

"Oi! Don't forget me!" Charlie called, finally losing patience.

"Charlie!" Hermione squealed, trying not to blush. Of all the handsome Weasley men, she'd had the most trouble keeping her hands off the gorgeous dragon trainer. He enfolded her in his strong arms and she resisted the temptation to sigh like Romilda Vane. The two had developed a strong friendship during one of Charlie's surprise visits to England. To the surprise of everyone (and the joy of Mrs Weasley, who was keeping her fingers crossed for another grandbaby), the two started spending more and more time with each other. Hermione enjoyed conversing with Charlie, who was surprisingly intelligent. Charlie enjoyed teasing Hermione, who had extremely amusing reactions. The two of them knew each other very well; Hermione knew when Charlie was having a bad day and knew how to cheer him up, and Charlie knew not to push Hermione past the point where her reactions turned from amusing to explosive. Or rather, he learned the hard way when he nearly had his manhood blown off.

Keeping an arm around her waist, he sat down on the sofa, pulling her down with him. Enveloped by all the love and warmth in the room, Hermione was more grateful than ever that the Weasleys had taken her in.

After the war was over, nothing snapped back to normal like she'd thought it would. It was a foolish thought, really. Childish. The remaining loyal Death Eaters started gathering followers and staging small, frequent raids which grew in intensity after more and more people joined.

Harry and Ron had been named temporary Aurors – along with trained Ministry Aurors, they'd spent a long year hunting down the remains of Voldemort's army. The Dementors were not reinstated as Azkaban guards; highly skilled wizards and an assortment of magical creatures took over that job.

Although she'd been offered an honorary diploma, Hermione surprised everyone by opting to go back to Hogwarts for her uncompleted seventh year. Fun times, new friends, a couple of failed relationships (she and Ron were better off as friends) and a diploma later, Hermione Apparated onto the top step of Number 12, Grimmauld Place and pushed open the door tentatively.

And walked into a party in full swing.

Wanting to surprise Harry and Ron, she'd Transfigured her clothes into a dress more suited to the occasion and done her best to blend in with the crowd. But as only the best of friends can do, Harry and Ron almost sensed her arrival and she soon found herself smothered in hugs and kisses from her friends and acquaintances.

A pleasant surprise had come in the form of Oliver Wood, who although was quite striking in his school days, was even more gorgeous in the present day. And not only him. It seemed almost everyone had filled out, beautified even, in the year after the war. She had blushed many a time at that party: Seamus Finnigan with his sexy Irish accent, George Weasley with his comfortable teasing and rip-roaring humour, Terry Boot with his quiet, intellectual manner – even Blaise Zabini stopped by, who had met Harry through Auror work.

Harry and Ron had immediately coerced her into staying at Grimmauld, effectively squashing her plans of buying an apartment for herself. She moved into Regulus' old room, got a job in the Department of Mysteries with very little effort, and life was better than ever.

"Why was there such a delay in having this get-together? I expected we'd be doing something like this the day I brought him back," Hermione asked as she served herself some potatoes.

"Charlie only got off work today," Molly replied. "This is as much a party for you as it is for Sirius, dear, and I knew you'd want Charlie here." Smiling at the older woman's forethought, she hugged Charlie around the waist as he sat beside her. Although most everyone had expected the two of them to get together at some point, their hope was wasted. The relationship between Charlie and Hermione was strictly platonic, something they'd established as soon as they became friends. Molly Weasley still hoped, of course, but it was in vain. Since George had taken up with Angelina Johnson, Ron with Luna Lovegood and Percy with Audrey Webber, Charlie was the only way to make Hermione a Weasley.

But she didn't know – no one did – that Hermione hadn't the least interest in anything romantic with Charlie. In fact, she had her eye on a certain black-haired, grey-eyed person currently telling George about pranks he had pulled in school.

Over the past few years, she'd come to realise her own worth. No longer insecure about her frizzy mane of hair – now tamed into ringlets – and no longer caring if her bookish nature scared people off. She knew she had an acceptable figure and she didn't try to be modest about her looks. Her overlarge front teeth were a thing of the past, as was her bushy hair, and she knew that while not being very pretty, she was not ugly. Not even close.

And Sirius had been showing a very pronounced interest in her, too.

It seemed that the Veil had worked some sort of age magic on Sirius, he was physically twenty-five years old, not the forty-odd he should have been. This relieved Hermione of one problem; she was absolutely entitled to have a crush on him as he was no longer old enough to be her father. The only thing stopping her from jumping him was the fear of Harry's reaction. Imagining herself in Harry's position was enough to put her off the idea, however tempting it was. If Harry were to take off with her newly undead godmother, she would definitely be angry.

"Hermione, eat some more," Charlie told her, motioning to her empty plate.

"I'm fat, Charlie," she complained, pushing her plate away. "Do you know how much I weigh now? Wait, I'm not even going to tell you," she corrected as an afterthought.

"Oo fstil ook swim sho why dusch i ma'er?" Ron queried through a mouthful of food. At Charlie and Hermione's disgusted look and his mother's shrill "Swallow your food, Ronald!, he swallowed and repeated his question.

"You still look slim so why does it matter?" he asked her.

She snorted. "I do not look slim, Ron. Seriously," she said at his incredulous look.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Downgrade yourself all you want, Hermione. We all know you're fishing for compliments." He said the last part with a wink so that she wouldn't be offended.

"I'm offended!" she declared with mock outrage. "As if such a thing was possible!"

"Well, I didn't think Hermione Granger obsessing about her weight was possible," Ginny pointed out from down the table.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Fair point," she conceded, doling out some more roast chicken and gravy onto her plate.

"That's my girl," Charlie said with a chuckle, taking a sip of his Butterbeer.

Later that evening, as Hermione headed upstairs to change clothes, she ran into Sirius. He had been suspiciously un-talkative that night, at least when around her.

"Do you really think you're gaining weight?" he asked her suddenly. She started, turning to face him. He was a couple of steps below her and she saw a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I'm definitely gaining. I don't think I'm fat," she hastily added as he opened his mouth, "but I'm gaining. I just haven't had time for exercise lately, with work and everything…"

"You really worked on the Veil case for five years?" he asked.

"Yeah," she replied softly. "I really did."

"Harry and Ron said you didn't sleep a lot of nights. And used your own blood for a potion." She said nothing, merely meeting his gaze. If he had a point, he would get to it.

"Why, Hermione?"

Oh, Merlin. The very question she had been dreading. If she couldn't even explain her reasoning to herself, how was she to explain it to Sirius?

"Hermione?" he prompted, looking straight at her. She avoided his eyes.

"It's not something I can easily explain, Sirius," she said finally. "It's mostly because of Harry, of course. Ever since the Ministry, where you…" she trailed off, looking at him apologetically.

"Died," Sirius interjected without preamble.

"Yes. Well, I was intrigued by the Department of Mysteries. I knew I wanted to work there after Hogwarts. Not necessarily on the Veil, but there's no limit to the phenomenal items in the Department of Mysteries. And then I saw the Veil room, and everything just came back… everything that happened in that room."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "But you said mostly because of Harry. Is there something else?"

"Yes, but I can't identify it. It's driving me nuts!" she exclaimed in frustration. There was rarely anything Hermione couldn't figure out and it annoyed her no end.

"Let me know when you figure it out, yeah?" he asked her with a small smile. He turned and opened the door of the living room for her. Slightly surprised that he had not pressured her for an answer, she hesitated a moment before entering. And when she finally did, she met Sirius' questioning look with one of her own, leaving them both more perplexed than ever.

"Charlie. Gerroff," Hermione choked. Everyone except Mr and Mrs Weasley had slept in the living room, having conjured mattresses and blankets for themselves. Hermione had Charlie and George on each side and Harry and Ron at her head and feet. "Balls, it's past eight. Charlie, I need to go!" she said more insistently. Yet again, she tried – and failed – to move the large male body slumped across hers. Charlie had heard her making to get up at half past seven and taken drastic action, dumping his own, considerably larger body onto hers. For the last half an hour, Hermione had been struggling to get him off, to no avail.

"Skip work today." Charlie told her, his voice slightly muffled in the blanket.

"I need – to – ugh!" she grunted as she tried to extricate herself from the tangle of blankets and Charlie.

"Give it a rest, 'Mione," Sirius' voice came from beside Harry.

"Trying to sleep, here," George put in with a playful poke. She started; she had thought he was asleep.

"Go to sleep, then," she snapped as she managed to sit up.

"Hermione. If anyone deserves a break from work, it's you," Harry muttered. His arm reached up to yank her back down and she thumped back down, accidentally digging her elbow into Charlie's shoulder blade. He groaned in pain and she gave him a very insincere apology. After ten more seconds of struggling, however, she gave up.

"Merlin's beard. Fine. May I at least make myself some coffee? I can't sleep past eight. Ever."

"Whatever," he yawned. "Someone go with her, though. To make sure she doesn't just Apparate out while we're sleeping. Any volunteers?"

"I'll go," Sirius volunteered. "Ungh," he grunted as he stretched, offering Hermione a hand. She took it and allowed him to pull her up. He seemed to do it very easily, without an effort.

"If that's not proof that you're not gaining, I'm a Hippogriff," he told her sternly. She granted him a smile and allowed him to lead the way into the kitchen.

"To tell the truth, I was planning to just Apparate out under the pretence of getting coffee," Hermione admitted as they waited for the coffee to brew.

"You were?" Sirius asked, gaping. She narrowed her eyes, wondering if he was mocking her.

"Isn't that why you're here?"

"No," he replied simply, picking up a spoon and doling out some sugar into his coffee.

Hermione waited. When no answer was forthcoming, she burst out, "Then why?"

He took his time in answering, indulging in a long slurp of coffee. "Because I wanted to be alone with you," he finally said.

Not for the first time, Hermione found herself cursing Sirius Black; him and his way of constantly confusing her. Her cup of coffee lay forgotten on the corner as her jam hung open loosely. "Is that really so hard to believe?" Sirius asked quietly, watching her reaction. At her nod 'yes', he asked, "Why?"

"Because…" Hermione trailed off, losing confidence. I am a Gryffindor! She thought angrily. She steeled herself and continued. "You could have any girl you wanted. I've seen the girls you bring home, slags they may be but they're still beautiful. Unlike me. I'm not brave, I'm not pretty. I'm a stickler for rules and the most risky thing I've ever done by choice was bungee-jumping." He waited. "So why me?" she whispered, clutching her coffee cup.

She held her breath as he backed her up against the counter. "Hermione. In first year, you helped Harry and Ron get through things even a grown wizard might not have been able to. In second year, you provided the breakthrough that allowed them to rescue Ginny. In third year, you stood up to your own professor and ventured into the Shrieking Shack just to save Ron. In fourth year, you were the best friend Harry could have hoped to have. In fifth year, you started an illegal defence club, not to mention you broke into the Ministry to rescue me. In sixth year, you helped Ginny get a group of people together to defend the school from highly skilled Death Eaters. And the year after that, you fought in the winning side of a war! Not to mention, the next year you went straight back to Hogwarts, to complete your education and up till now have been slogging away at getting me out of that Veil.

"I haven't been in a whole lot of serious relationships, but I know that you are exactly what I look for. You're brave, passionate, you have a hunger for learning. You know when to break to the rules and when to hold back, and you treasure your friends more than anything else. You're intelligent, funny and as for being a stickler, you've loosened up a lot in the past few years. And you know what?" he asked as he leaned closer still. She shook her head breathlessly. "You are beautiful, Hermione Granger."

Unwittingly, her eyes flickered to his lips and back.

It was all the signal he needed. "If this doesn't convince you, I don't know what will," was what he muttered as his hands came up to cup her face he caught her lips with his.

Fire danced behind Hermione's closed eyelids. The kiss was gentle and passionate, sweet and spicy, all at the same time. It was everything she had hoped for. Her hands twined into his hair and she moaned as he bit down softly on her bottom lip. He pulled away, smirking.

"Convinced you, have I?" Speechless, she watched as he took another sip of coffee and headed out of the kitchen. Her hand lifted to touch her lips as she replayed every second of the kiss in her mind. His warm, soft lips tasting like freshly brewed coffee… his strong hands gently gripping her waist… his thick, soft locks of hair…

Suffice to say, she had no intention of going to work now.

Hermione strode up the stairs bravely. She had a promise to make good on. And no matter how painful the experience might be, she never broke a promise.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice Sirius until she walked into him. Looking up, she caught his smirk and knew that he had fully intended to let her bump into him. Banging into his firm chest made her remember him jumping into the pond and she pushed the thought away with a muttered curse.

"Not happy to see me, then?" he asked teasingly. His grey eyes studied her carefully, almost as if he were trying to read her thoughts.

"It's not that. I have something…" she trailed off before deciding that she might as well tell him. "I have something to confess to Ginny."

"May I know what this 'something' concerns?" he asked, a gleam in his eyes.

She narrowed her eyes. "Well see, I really like this man. And I promised Ginny that if anything should ever happen between us, I would tell her immediately."

"And who might this man be, love?" he asked quietly.

"I'll like to tell you, really," Hermione said insincerely, "but I'll just keep you guessing. You haven't seen me since this morning, I could've done anything." She continued down the hallway.

"Or anyone," she added with a smirk. She didn't turn to see Sirius' face and was so busy trying not to laugh that she entered Ginny's room without knocking.

"AHHH! MY VIRGIN EYES!" she shrieked, covering her eyes. Harry and Ginny jumped apart, both struggling to pull on their shirts.

"Hermione, haven't you learned to knock by now?" Ginny asked in exasperation.

"I'm sorry, I forgot!" she replied, still covering her eyes. "Is it safe to look?"

"Yes," came the laughing reply. Harry, blushing furiously, stepped past her and almost ran down the corridor. She closed the door and sat down on the bed.

"Um, you'll want to cast a cleaning charm on that," Ginny said uncomfortably. Gagging, Hermione cast one on the bed, then herself.

"You could've warned me before I sat down."

"Sorry. What was it you came bursting into our room for?"

"You asked me to tell you the name of the guy, if ever something happened between us?"

"Oooh! Yes!" Ginny said excitedly, leaning forward. Hermione shuddered. She had never been one for girly talks, but the it was unavoidable at times. Considering her options, she decided to just blurt it out.

"Sirius."

"Black?"

"How many other Sirius' do we know?"

"Blood hell."

"I know."

"Since when?"

"Since I brought him back. Please don't tell anyone, Gin, Harry would die if he knew…"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ginny said comfortingly. "He's your best friend. And by the way," she said conspiratorially, "if I weren't in love with Harry, I'd probably get a crush on him myself." She finished with a wink, leaving Hermione feeling slightly better.

"Oh, and I have it on good authority that Lavender Brown has been following him around clubs in the hopes that he'll bring her home," Ginny said with a slightly disgusted air. "I never really understood how you managed to room with the girl for six years."

"With pain, Ginny," Hermione deadpanned. Grins broke out on the faces on the two girls and they avoided each others' eyes.

"Ginny? Hermione? Dinner!" Harry called from downstairs. The girls had insisted on the men making dinner and they headed downstairs curiously.

"Who cooked?"

"Sirius, mostly," Ron said from his position sitting on the counter.

Ginny nudged Hermione. "What a package!" she hissed. Hermione elbowed her sharply, a gesture which the boys (fortunately) missed.

"Harry cut vegetables, Ron boiled the noodles. I gave him the easiest job, just in case," Sirius said with a wink. Laughing Hermione and Ginny helped themselves to spaghetti and salad, digging in eagerly.

"Damn," Ginny mumbled, pushing her empty plate away. "From now on, Sirius is doing all the cooking."

"Not a good idea," he warned from across the table. "This is the only thing I know how to make. I lived on it through my Auror training. I got so sick of it, I made James cook. And trust me, James' cooking is worse than Harry's."

"Hey!" Harry cried indignantly.

"It's true," Hermione said with a shrug as she remembered the charred mess that had been Harry's attempt at steak.

Scowling, Harry speared a carrot violently.

"Listen, Hermione," Sirius said as he walked her back to her room after dinner. "I want you to go out with me."

Surprised by his direct approach, she froze for a moment.

"Like… a date?"

"Yes, that's generally what people do when they like each other," he said with a roll of his eyes.

"Oh, so you're taking it for granted that I fancy you, are you?"

"I eavesdropped on your conversation with Ginny," he told her unabashedly.

"Sneak."

"I was curious."

"Very well… I'll go out with you. Tomorrow?"

"I'll pick you up at seven," he returned with a wink.

Hermione clipped the hoop earring shut and turned to survey her reflection. She'd ended up in a pair of jeans with a pink shirt on top. The shirt had a few ruffles and beads on it, and a pair of ballet flats completed the look. She had no idea where Sirius was taking her so she decided to dress in something that would be acceptable anywhere.

And now, all that was left was to tell Harry who her date was. She took a deep breath, brushing a strand of curly chestnut hair behind her eyes just as a knock sounded softly on her door.

She opened it to find Sirius, who was dressed much as she was, in jeans and a semi-formal shirt. He looked so bloody gorgeous, it almost pained her.

"Ready to go?" he asked her, noting her nerves and wondering why.

"I… need to tell Harry," she told him quietly. Oh, he realised. He himself felt a stab of nervousness, wondering how his godson would react.

"Harry?" she called as she entered the dining room. There was a scuffling noise and Harry emerged from the pantry, holding a tube of Pop Crisps. These were wizarding crisps which crunched and popped when one bit into them. She smiled slightly as she remembered how fascinated Harry had been with them.

"Yeah?"

"I'm erm… going out," she said sheepishly.

"That's great, 'Mione!" he said, not having noticed the significance in her tone.

And then he saw the two of them standing together, and it clicked.

"You're going out? Together?" he asked, his voice getting angrier with every word.

"Harry - " Sirius said, trying to draw his godson's anger away from Hermione.

"Sirius, really? She's bloody young enough to be your daughter!"

"He's the equivalent of a twenty-five year old, Harry, it's perfectly fine," Hermione snapped.

"That doesn't change the fact that he isn't twenty-five, Hermione!"

"Oh, grow up, Harry!" she yelled, losing her temper. She felt a twinge of regret; she knew she wasn't being fair.

"I need some time to think. Merlin," he muttered as he stalked away, presumably to find Ginny.

"Let him be," Sirius said quietly, a hand on Hermione's arm as she made to follow him. She would have shrugged him off, but something strange in his tone made her pause.

"Sirius? What happened?"

"It's true, Hermione," he said sadly, looking up the stairs. "I'm not twenty-five, I just look it. I'm too old for you. I'm sorry about walking away from our date." He turned, and would have walked away too if a pair of lips hadn't stopped him.

She broke away only when she couldn't hold her breath any longer. "Sirius. Don't think like that! You got a second chance at youth, take it. I did not bring you back only to have you wallow in the old age that you haven't even reached yet."

"I've got a long life ahead of me." He said slowly as her words clicked in his head.

"Yeah, Sirius, you have."

"Right," he said firmly, an abrupt change from his previous tone. "We're going out. Hogsmeade. I'll see you there," he said with a smile, and Disapparated with a pop. Grinning to herself, Hermione did the same – and Apparated straight into Sirius' arms. Before she could disentangle herself, he leaned down and kissed her again, tracing her lips with his tongue. As he kissed down her neck, her nails drew teasing circles on the back of his neck. Both of them shivered, and broke apart.

"Not here," Hermione said, noting that a cold, dark alleyway wasn't an ideal place for snogging.

"Restaurant's that way," he said, motioning with his hand. With his free hand, he grasped hers, gently pulling her in the direction of the diner.

'Merlin's Beard', the name of a new restaurant in Hogsmeade. This was their destination, a small-ish, grey-stone building with a wooden door and posts. A friendly witch was standing by the door, menu in hand. Hermione noticed her eyeing Sirius appreciatively and tightened her grip on his hand. He chuckled, not looking at her.

"Table for two?" the waitress asked pleasantly.

"Yes," Hermione told her. The waitress shot her a glare and directed them to a small booth in the back of the restaurant. Two menus appeared in midair and opened themselves.

"What will you have, love?" Sirius asked, watching Hermione read through the menu.

"Erm…" Hermione scanned through it again. Everything looked tasty, how could she possibly choose? "Oh, you pick for me!" she finally said in exasperation. "I can't decide."

He laughed, examining his own menu. "All right, then." Calling the waitress over, he told her, "A spaghetti bolognaise for the lady and a chicken steak for myself." He snapped the menu shut and handed it to her, eyes on Hermione.

Fluttering her eyelashes, the waitress tried – and failed – to get his attention. "Will that be all?"

"Oh, two glasses of water, and – would you like something else to drink, Hermione?"

"No, water will be fine," she told him, folding a napkin into the shape of a bird.

The food arrived in no time, the waitress placing a steaming dish of spaghetti in front of Hermione with a suspiciously sweet smile.

"Don't eat that," Sirius said as she opened her mouth to take the first bite.

"Erm. Why?" the fork paused in midair. "I checked it for poisons."

"A tad paranoid, are we?"

"You have no idea, the number of times people have tried to poison me," she said seriously. "You'd think, being a saviour of the Wizarding World and being on a chocolate frog card would make people like me, but I swear, I'm becoming like Moody. Overly suspicious-"

"Constantly vigilant!" they both exclaimed at the same time, laughing.

"Anyway, I doubt it's poisoned. More likely she spat in it. We can share mine, there's more than enough for both of us. I think she heaped my plate to butter me up." It was true, there were vegetables and mashed potatoes almost falling off his plate.

"What happened to Moody?" Sirius asked as he handed her a fork and knife. She cut a piece of meat and put it in her mouth.

"He died protecting Harry. It was really Mudungus' fault, you know. He bolted and the spell meant for him hit Moody."

Realising that Hermione was uncomfortable with the topic, Sirius steered the conversation into safer waters, and they chatted all through the night. At nine, Sirius called for the bill and the duo stood up to leave.

"Thanks for dinner, Sirius," Hermione said, blushing, for some reason. "I had a good time." But she couldn't shake the cold emptiness inside her that had been born from Harry's anger. The worst part was, his anger was justified. Rarely (if ever) helpless, Hermione was not accustomed to being at a dead end.

"Me too," he said, either not noticing or choosing to ignore the blush to spare Hermione. More likely the latter. He, too, was thinking of Harry, although he hid his feelings in case it upset Hermione.

They Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, where Sirius dragged her into a closet and pulled the door closed behind them.

"Listen. Hermione. I know you think I sleep around too much. I know I can be a bit of a slag sometimes in that respect. But I have been in serious relationships before, and I want you to know that I can and will be committed to you should you choose to accept." He opened his mouth to continue but she beat him to it, smiling widely.

"Yes," she said decisively, her fingers locking around the collar of his shirt. His serious expression turned to a grin and he ducked his head to kiss her neck, kissed the underside of her chin, kissed all the way along her jawline and finally, gently, pressed his lips against hers for the third time that day. He moaned as she trailed hot, open-mouth kisses down his neck, biting down softly as she reached his shoulder. He pulled her head up and their lips joined again in a fiery dance of passion. When they broke apart, they were gasping for breath.

"Sirius?" she asked quietly, sadly. Her tone put him on alert immediately and his hand automatically came up to stroke her cheek.

"Yes, love?"

"Harry. What if he never forgives me?" Tears brimmed in her eyes, threatening to fall. It tore him up, seeing the true extent of her misery.

"He will."

"You don't know th - "

"However much he tries, he will not be able to forget how much you've done for him, whether help him defeat Voldemort, getting him through his exams or bringing his godfather back from the dead. Everything will be fine, love," he said, smiling reassuringly. "Siriusly," he added with a wink, leaning forward to capture her lips again.

Hermione groaned at the over-used joke, but soon found herself groaning for an entirely different reason as Sirius' hands traced down her sides and his thumbs grazed the sliver of hipbone showing in the gap between shirt and pants.

And it most definitely was too soon that Sirius was dropping her at her room with a murmured 'Goodnight' and a flash of that sexy smile.

Had fun, then? Regulus asked from his new spot on the wall.

"Yes," Hermione laughed, changing into a big t-shirt and a pair of shorts. She didn't care what Regulus saw; he was only a portrait after all.

That's my Quidditch jersey, you know. She looked down; he was right. She was wearing a green and sliver shirt with 'BLACK' embroidered on it in large letters.

She laughed again, uncommonly happy. "It looks better on me than it did on you," she teased, examining her reflection.

Goodnight, Hermione.

But she was already fast asleep, dreaming with a small smile on her face.

Two months, three days, twenty-one dates, one hundred and sixty-three kisses and with Harry still not talking to the two of them…

A shadow fell over the book she was reading. She scowled, before looking up and realising who it was.

"Hey," she greeted softly, marking her page and setting the book aside. Her heart twinged as she saw the bookmark; a white owl's feather. It had been a present from Harry.

"Hey. What are you reading?" Sirius asked, coming to perch beside her on the armchair. She loved when he was gentle and quiet, as he only was with her. Too many times, she'd walked into the kitchen to raunchy tales from years gone by, especially when Blaise Zabini and Charlie Weasley were around. They seemed to be having some kind of competition. She'd rolled her eyes and walked out amidst gales of laughter from the men.

"And then I said, 'Princess, you have no idea what I want to do to you right now…'" was what she heard as she left the bright kitchen for the dark corridor.

"It's useless. I don't advise reading it," she said, realising that she still hadn't answered him.

"But what is it?"

"Something Fred and George gave me. It's not important." She blushed, shoving the book behind her. It immediately aroused Sirius' curiosity.

"Can I see?" he asked sweetly, deciding to try the nice approach first.

"No!" she exclaimed, standing up, the book safely behind her back. Something defiant flashed in her eyes and he knew the nice approach was doomed to fail. I wonder what Harry would do. And then he realised that his godson was currently very, very pissed off and pushed the thought away.

He stood up and stalked towards her, a predatory gleam in his eye. He saw her swallow and grinned inside. "Now, princess. Be polite. I asked nicely, didn't I?" She didn't say anything, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Why don't you want me to see it? Don't you trust me?"

"You might not understand it, there are loads of big words," Hermione mumbled. Sirius wanted to laugh at her well-phrased but lousily delivered comeback, but darkened his expression instead.

"Are you doubting my intelligence?"

"… no." Hermione stifled a laugh as she remembered many such conversations between her and Ron and… Harry. Who looked like he may never talk to her again, despite living in the same house.

"What was that pause for?" he asked, dropping his act. She smirked, and he realised his mistake. "Kitten, please. Don't you love me? Don't you care enough about to feelings to simply let me see that book?" Her resolve wavered and her voice quaked as she answered.

"I can't show you."

"I'd shower you in roses and kisses. I'd make you pancakes and bring you breakfast in bed. If you'll let me see that book, kitten." He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her lips. They tingled with want and she scowled, used to Sirius' methods of manipulation.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked, as she became aware of her position. Hands holding the book behind her back, which was pressed to the wall. Sirius' strong, lean arms on either side of her. His eyes and inch away from hers, a daring gleam in them.

She made her decision. On impulse, she moved closer and kissed him deeply. His big hands found her waist and started sneaking back, towards the book she still clutched tightly with one hand. She licked his lips and his mouth opened, allowing her entry. His search for the book forgotten, he fisted his hands in her curls, noticing the smell of strawberries. He was so lost in a haze of pleasure that he barely noticed when Hermione slipped out of his arms and ran up the stairs.

When he finally realised he had been duped, he grinned. "All right, Hermione. I don't need to see it!" he called up the stairs. He knew she would hear.

But she wasn't the only one. A head of black, tousled hair stuck itself out of a doorway. "I don't even want to know what you don't want to see, but…" he started down the stairs to where Sirius waited apprehensively. He studied his godson's expression contemplatively. He looked... ashamed? "I'd like to apologise. To you and her. Do you think you could call her down?"

A hundred thoughts ran through Sirius' head. What had changed Harry's mind? What had taken him so long to get to this point? What would Hermione say? He had half a mind to let Harry fend for himself - he had spent enough nights cheering up a crying Hermione. But as he looked up into his godson's face, saw Lily's eyes shining brightly past very James-esque glasses, he realised that he owed to him, and he owed it to Hermione to let them talk, even if more tears were shed. The two of them had been through too much together to lose it all. Steel eyes softened to a molten silver. "Hermione, love!" he called. "Come down her for a moment. Someone wants to talk to you." Harry made his way to the sitting room, facing the fireplace and wringing his hands.

"Sirius, wha - " her words cut off as she noticed Harry in the corner.

"I know I haven't been fair," Harry began. He looked at Hermione and when she made no effort to talk, he continued. "I was so scared when I found out. I thought I might be losing my best friend and my godfather at the same time. I never stopped to think about how much you've done for me, Hermione," he said, appealing directly to her, "and how nothing can ever change the fact that you're my godfather, Sirius. I didn't think about how happy it would make the two of you; I simply got angry for selfish reasons." He looked at both of them, Hermione with unshed tears in her eyes and Sirius looking happy that Harry had seen reason.

"Will you forgive me?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, his vision was obscured by a heavy mass of brown curls. "Of course I will, Harry!" Hermione sobbed. As she broke away, wiping away tears, Sirius came to put his arms around her and Harry.

"Harry, mate. We have a bond – your father. I am and always will be your godfather, whether you need help with girl problems or just want to talk. Hermione comes first now, but if you ever need anything, you know where to come," Sirius interjected, feeling like he needed to clear the air somewhat.

Harry nodded, and Hermione noticed Ginny and Ron smiling at the scene from the doorway.

"Group hug?" Hermione suggested lightly in an effort to break the tension. Harry and Sirius laughed and Ron and Ginny came into the room to enfold themselves into the mass of limbs. And for the first time in a while, everything felt absolutely perfect. Except one thing.

Hermione found Sirius' hand in the middle of the hugging and extricated him rapidly. The others pretended not to notice as she led him out of the room, saying, "I need to tell you something." Filled with trepidation, he followed her out of the sitting room into the kitchen.

"Do you remember," she began, picking a strawberry from the fruit bowl and taking a nibble, "when you asked me why I picked the Veil as my assignment?"

Sirius thought back to that day, almost three months ago now.

"Yes," he told her, stealing her strawberry and popping it in whole. She pouted before getting herself another one.

"I've come up with an answer." He waited. "I remember I told you it was because of Harry, because he needed a parent figure in his life, and so on. But just yesterday, right before I fell asleep, I was thinking that… that couldn't possibly be my only reason. And when I woke up, I realised.

"When I was sixteen, and you had gone through the Veil, I thought I'd never see you again, and I cried the whole night. And even though my tears, I couldn't understand my overwhelming misery. But now I do. I loved you, Sirius. Even then. My feelings passed as I got over the grief of your passing, but when you came back, they returned, as strong as ever. And now that everything's okay with Harry, I just needed to tell you. I hoped it would make this moment even more beautiful." She stroked his cheek and he smiled, ever so gently, as she asked, "Did it?" The sun broke through the clouds and seeped through the window behind her. Strands of her hair lit up red, and Sirius found himself thinking that no angel could ever come close to the beauty of his girlfriend.

"I did," he replied. And then he kissed her, a kiss tasting like strawberries and sunshine and happiness and as she kissed him back with equal fervour, Harry, Ron and Ginny came in from the sitting and covered their eyes in mock embarrassment. The couple broke apart, Hermione's smile slightly watery. He brushed away the tears with his lips and she knew, with more certainty than anything else, that Sirius Black was her past, present and future. And he knew, as he looked in her eyes and saw the love in her chocolate-brown orbs, that he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love you, Hermione Granger."

"I love you too, Sirius Black."

R&R, people. Like it says at the top. Anyone who reviews/favourites gets a guaranteed R&R from me. Yep, resorting to bribery. Shameful. Thanks for reading x