This is just a story that's been floating around my head for a while. I started a marriage law fic, but I think I'd rather do a more light hearted story – so here it is., let me know what you think!xx

Hermione Granger opened her eyes slightly, and groaned as the morning light seemed to burn her retina. Her head ached, her stomach churned and she realised very quickly that if she did not move soon she would be sick where she lay.

Squinting against the harsh sunlight that streamed through the open curtains of her hotel room, she crawled out of bed, stumbled across the heavy carpet and into the en-suite bathroom.

She sank to her knees before the toilet and - arms wrapped around the bowl - she began to heave. After a few minutes, when all the contents of her stomach had been emptied, she pulled the flush and curled up in a ball on the cool marble tiled floor.

She lay there for a moment, trying to remember the events of the night before – but drew a blank. It was Harry's Bachelor Party, and they were in Las Vegas, that much she knew. Fred and George had produced a small potion before they left for the night club, and at their insistence everybody had taken a few drops – and that was when Hermione's memory of the night began to get a bit hazy. She remembered feeling a sense of euphoria, an urge to dance and a lot of love for all those present – but not much else.

Groaning where she lay, Hermione knew that her only salvation lay in the hangover cure she had brewed before leaving England. With a great effort she clambered to her feet, and made her way slowly to the bedroom, trying to remember where she had left it.

Standing at the open door of the bathroom, Hermione surveyed the clothes strewn carpet of her room to see if she could spot her purse. Not seeing it, she let here eyes scan the room once more and gave a gasp as she spotted something she had missed. Sirius Black, asleep in her bed.

'Sirius', she hissed– and the unconscious man twitched slightly, but did not wake.

'Sirius', she called again – louder this time a sense of panic growing in her chest, and the slumbering wizard awoke with a groan.

'Hermione,' he greeted her in confusion, squinting out at her with his one open eye. 'Why are you wearing that thing on your head?'

Hermione groped at her hair, and indeed there was something caught in her curls. She tugged at it, and after a painful wrench she came away with what looked like a piece of white netting in her hand.

'I think it was a veil,' she said unsure.

Sirius wasn't listening though, he had just realised that the bed he was in was not his own, and he sat up thoroughly confused.

'Where are we?' he questioned, rubbing his sleep filled eyes.

'In my hotel room,' came Hermione's strained reply.

Sirius gave a bark of laughter, an amused smile on his face. 'Don't tell me we slept together Granger,' he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Hermione blushed, 'I don't think we did...' She trailed off as unwanted memories of her and Sirius passionately kissing on the dance floor the night before popped into her head. Had that actually happened, she questioned herself agitatedly, or was it just an after effect of Fred and George's potion?

'Well,' Sirius said, standing up from the bed, stretching and groaning slightly as the sudden movement hurt his head. 'I'm fully clothed, and you're fully clothed, so I'm guessing nothing untoward took place and my virtue is still in tact.'

He gave her a sardonic smile, and Hermione smiled feebly back. She was glad he was being so light hearted about the whole affair – despite knowing Sirius now for nearly ten years, she still felt a bit awkward in his company. They were like chalk and cheese, and while Sirius's laissez faire attitude to life sometimes irritated her, she knew that her own perfectionism grated occasionally on the Marauder.

She suddenly gave an excited squeal as she spotted her purse, trapped between the bedside table and the bed, and rushed forward to extract the small bottle of hangover potion that she had packed before leaving England.

'Here,' she offered the bottle to Sirius after she had taken a large gulp, ' It's a hangover cure.'

Sirius shook his head, grinning 'It won't work kiddo, what Fred and George gave us last night was Essence of Ecstasy – the only cure for this is time.'

He rubbed his eyes again and gave a yawn; his head ached and he was exhausted, he was too old at forty for these kinds of shenanigans.

'They gave us drugs?' Hermione squeaked indignantly. 'OhmyGod if anyone at work finds out I'm screwed.' She sat down heavily on the edge of her bed, thinking of her boss at St. Mungo's, and what his reaction would be if he ever found out. Horatio Hacklebotham had been hinting for a while now that he was considering Hermione for a promotion to Head Healer – but if he ever discovered she had taken illicit potions she was sure that he would fire her on the spot.

'Don't worry your curly little head about it Hermione,' Sirius said with a smile as he sat down beside her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. 'Remember what we said before we left?'

'What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas...' Hermione intoned dully.

'Exactly. It's nothing to feel bad about – you had fun, and nobody got hurt.' Sirius paused for a moment, 'Well I think you had fun and I'm sure nobody got hurt – I can't actually remember much of last night.' He ran a hand through his hair, frowning as he tried to recall the events of the night before. The Essence of Ecstasy had filled him with an urge to kiss everyone and with a small jolt he remembered that the only person available to kiss had been Hermione – and that they had done so frequently. He hastily removed his arm from her shoulders, feeling suddenly awkward.

'Maybe we should head down to find the others,' he suggested, and Hermione gave a nod.

Just as they stood there was a loud knock and the door of the hotel room burst open.

'Well if it isn't the happy couple,' George Weasley greeted them, a Cheshire cat grin across his face.

'Mr. Black, Mrs. Black,' Fred nodded at them in mock solemnity.

Hermione stared at them in irritation, 'What are you two talking about?'

Harry, Ron and Lupin who had trailed the twins into the room each gave her an amused look.

'You don't remember?' Harry questioned kindly, and Hermione shook her head - a feeling of alarm growing.'You and Sirius got married last night...'

Hermione turned to stare at Sirius who in turn was looking at her aghast.

'We didn't,' she stated firmly, trying to convince herself.

'Oh but you did Mrs. Black,' George replied, his grin growing even wider.

'Stop calling me that,' Hermione hissed, sitting down once again on the bed with her head in her hands.

'That's right George,' Fred interjected, 'She doesn't want to be called that – it's Mrs. Granger-Black thank you very much.'

Hermione looked up at Sirius as the name triggered memories in her head – and saw the same look of shock cross his handsome face.

'Shit,' she exhaled.

'Shit indeed,' came his weary reply.