A/N: *cackles manically*

*scuttles past carrying a basketful of stories*

*drops a chapter on your doorstep*

*scampers off into the night, still cackling*

Moohahahaha!

xx-Kitten.

Limerence Laws

By Kittenshift17

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Sirius Black was eyeballs deep into his third bottle of Fire Whiskey when the Floo roared to life and emitted his fiancé. Narrowing his eyes as he tried to focus on her from his place at the kitchen table where he'd fallen into his chair upon his return and remained since leaving Snape's quarters, Sirius squinted at Hermione blurrily.

"Oh, Sirius," she sighed when she'd dusted off her clothes of soot and she looked over to spot him sprawled with his arms folded on the table and his head cushioned on them.

"What?" he grunted, in no mood for company even if he was supposed to marry her in short order.

"How many have you had?" she said. "You do realise that getting drunk, taking a Sober-Up Potion, and then getting drunk again is very bad for your stomach, don't you?"

"Who cares?" Sirius grumbled, raising his head and tipping the bottle to his lips. "Got to marry you and a complete fuckhead. I'm allowed to get pissed."

"You are," she sighed, nodding as she moved closer and pried the bottle from his grip.

Sirius released it only when he saw that she meant to have some for herself and he watched through squinted eyes as she tipped it to her lips and gulped down a few burning mouthfuls.

"You here to drag me to the alter?" he asked when she set the bottle aside and dragged an affectionate hand through his loose long hair.

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Not yet. I've got to go shopping for a pretty dress."

Sirius blinked at her.

"You want some money?" he offered, patting his pockets in search of his wallet.

"I'm going shopping in muggle London," she told him.

Sirius shrugged. "Even better. I carry more muggle money than Galleons, these days."

"Snape already gave me some," Hermione protested when Sirius found his wallet – randomly tucked into the top of his boot for some unknown reason.

"Oh, he did, did he?" Sirius said. "How much?"

As he asked, he handed over the equivalent of eight hundred pounds.

"Less than this," she told him. "Really, Sirius, this is too much."

"Get me a suit while you're out, could you?" he asked. "Actually, fuck it. I'm coming with you."

"You haven't been cleared yet, Sirius," Hermione reminded him.

"So what? The muggles don't remember the police reports and warnings from when I first escaped. Ninety percent of the tail I've had since I got out was muggles, too. They don't care who I am."

"Even so," Hermione protested.

"Don't worry, love," Sirius slurred. "I won't look at your fancy dress before the big do, yeah? You can't go alone, anyway. Too dangerous."

"Well, I'm fairly certain that if I take you with me, the shop assistants might all try to sell me something frumpy and awful in the hopes of stealing you away for themselves," Hermione protested, shaking her head when he got to his feet and shook his whole body roughly like an overgrown mutt trying to dry his fur.

"Sshhhh," he shushed the young witch, pressing his index finger to her lips.

Hermione scowled at him, preparing to tell him where he could shove his shushing before the sounds of shouting could be heard from upstairs.

"I DON'T BLOODY CARE THAT YOU'RE A WEREWOLF, REMUS LUPIN!" Nymphadora Tonks screeched.

"WELL, YOU BLOODY WELL SHOULD!" Remus roared back. "I COULD RIP YOUR THROAT OUT!"

The sound of their voices coming closer made Sirius cringe and he looked over at Hermione worriedly.

"We're not here," he told her. "We were never here. In fact, let's leave, before they…"

Right at that moment, Harry Potter led the way into the kitchen with Remus and Tonks still shouting at each other about Remus's condition and Tonks's infatuation.

"This is your fault," Harry accused his godfather the minute he spotted them.

"Is not," Sirius argued immediately, bundling Hermione into his arms as though she might shield him from the others.

"You just had to bring up the next full moon falling smack bang in the middle of the 'honeymoon phase', didn't you?" Harry said, shaking his head at Sirius. "And what are you doing to Hermione? She won't save you, you bloody sod."

"Hermione," Sirius whined, hiding behind her.

"DON'T BE SUCH A BONEHEAD, REMUS!" Tonks shouted. "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO ATTACK ANYONE AND IF YOU BLOODY WELL TRY IT, I'LL HEX YOU. I'M NOT AN AUROR FOR NOTHING, YOU KNOW!? I CAN HOLD MY OWN, EVEN AGAINST A HUNGRY WEREWOLF."

"If you really think that, you're delusional," Remus growled angrily. "Sirius, show her the scars I left on you at the last full moon, would you?"

"I'm not disrobing on command, Moony," Sirius said, feigning indignance.

"Yes, you bloody are," Remus growled, cranky and perhaps finally beginning to feel the alcohol he'd ingested given that he was working his way through his tenth bottle. "Do it! Now!"

"No!" Sirius said. "Not getting my kit of in front of my little cousin and my godson, mate."

"Oh, but you're not concerned for me?" Hermione asked, looking at him over her shoulder.

"You'll see it all on the regular for the rest of our lives when this bloody marriage is done," Sirius replied, pecking her on the cheek and grinning roguishly.

"Enough smooching!" Remus growled, stomping toward them angrily and latching onto Sirius despite him still holding Hermione.

Sirius grunted when Remus tried to wrench the shirt right off his back, the fabric emitting a loud squeal as it tore down the back, shredding beneath the unrestrained strength of the werewolf.

"Moony!" Sirius growled, releasing Hermione to turn and snarl ferociously at his best friend. "I said no!"

But it was too late. As Hermione stepped out of his arms, his shredded shirt fell in tatters to the floor, leaving him bare-chested in the tense kitchen. Hermione's mouth went dry at the sight of so much bared skin, her eyes mapping the scars and tattoos littering Sirius's lithe torso. As he moved, muscle rippled and slid sinuously beneath his skin, and she pressed her legs together against the sudden, wild throbbing inside her knickers.

Dear Merlin, she was in trouble.

"So, you scratched him up a bit?" Tonks guessed, her eyes also tracing over Sirius, but much more scathingly, assessing and examining each wound and faded scar on him, noting which ones had been caused by werewolf claws and fangs.

"A BIT?!" Remus exploded all over again. "Look at this!"

He pointed a collection of deep furrows – still not fully healed – on Sirius's shoulder where Remus must've clawed him. The odd placement of it – stretching from his deltoid and over the back of his shoulder and across his shoulder blade indicated he'd been in his Animagus form at the time.

"Piss it, Moony! I liked this shirt!" Sirius growled, shoving his best friend angrily.

"Yeah, well, I liked being sodding single!" Remus retorted, snarling and shoving Sirius in return.

"Bollocks, you did!" Sirius rolled his eyes. "You're lonely, and you're miserable. 'S why you've been so vicious the past couple of months."

"It's not!" Remus growled.

"Is too," Sirius said.

"No, it's not!"

"Is!"

Hermione sighed, looking over at Harry who had folded his arms and was leaning against the kitchen table, shaking his head at their childish antics.

"They're drunk," he told her, catching her eye and looking mildly amused, though mostly looking annoyed about the way Remus and Tonks had been acting.

Hermione got the feeling that poor Harry was going to end up feeling a bit more like the child with the squabbling parents in his marriage triumvirate, rather than an equal party within a three-way marriage.

"Yeah, and Sirius has already been given one Sober-Up potion when he and Snape started brawling in Snape's office," Hermione sighed, nodding in agreement.

"Yeeesh," Harry winced sympathetically. "And here I was thinking that things had been bad here."

"No blood shed, so far, by the looks of it?" Hermione asked, looking over Harry, Tonks and Remus in turn.

"Just lots of yelling," Harry said, shaking his head and clearly frustrated with the two of them. "They're going to kill each other before we can even think about a ceremony. Remus won't accept the thought of marrying Tonks when one of the stipulations is child-baring."

Hermione winced.

"Lycanthropy isn't passed on genetically," she pointed out.

"Believe me, we've already had that argument," Harry told her, rolling his eyes. "Blockhead won't listen to reason. Too drunk, probably."

"I doubt that the three of you will be required to rush into reproducing anyway," Hermione said. "Snape's already working on a contraceptive that will hoodwink the detectors in the rings they issued us. The last thing any of us needs with Voldemort gathering his forces for all out war is a tiny baby gumming up the works and being used as leverage to wound us."

Harry nodded grimly.

"You doing alright?" he asked. "Don't imagine things went very smoothly this morning after I left."

"They didn't," Hermione shook her head. "Dumbledore showed up too. He's cross with me after I demanded he use his connections to clear Sirius of the bogus charges he was prosecuted and sentenced with, and insisted that he and Remus be allowed to take up the Defence Against the Dark Arts post when the current woman clears off to have her babies and marry her spouses. We're going to split the class by gender for the seventh years so that your husband won't be teaching you, and mine won't be teaching me."

Bloody hell, really?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes," Hermione nodded. "I might've manipulated Dumbledore into doing so."

"Oi! Remus!" Harry said, stepping forward to get between his godfather and his fiancé, pushing them apart viciously when they continued to snarl and yell at each other. "ENOUGH!"

"Stay out of this, Harry," Sirius growled at him roughly, shrugging Harry's hand off him and lunging at Remus again.

Harry punched him.

Right in the face. A swift right hook to the jaw – the likes of which Hermione hadn't seen from him since Harry and George had beat the stuffing out of Malfoy in fifth year – that sent Sirius reeling back to collide with the kitchen bench. Several empty whiskey bottles – mostly from Remus – toppled over and scattered across the countertop, some falling to the floor to shatter while Sirius blinked dazedly from the attack. When Harry pivoted and did the same thing to a still snarling Remus, Hermione wondered if he'd gone mad. She'd never seen him do something like this – the only time he'd punched anyone had been when Malfoy had said horrid things about his mother, after all, and Hermione couldn't think of any two men that Harry loved or respected more than Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.

"Easy there, Harry," Tonks soothed, her wand subtly trained on him when he shook out his fist in annoyance as Remus also staggered back from the blow.

"I said, enough!" Harry hissed at the two of them, ignoring Tonks for the time being. "You're both acting like bloody children because you're drunk, and you're frustrated. Now, if you could shut your mouths for a few minutes, Hermione's just mentioned something that will make this entire mess a lot more manageable, and I'd appreciate it if you would listen to her."

Remus growled at him, and Sirius growled at Remus for growling at Harry, and Hermione wondered if maybe she should just go shopping and let them kill each other after all, if that was what they so desperately wanted.

"Well?" Remus demanded of her when he righted his posture and stood there stiff and clearly furious but restraining it for the time being.

"Dumbledore's in the process of clearing Sirius's name as we speak," Hermione informed him, pulling herself up to her full height and thinking that she was glad she hadn't been matched with Remus when he glared at her like that. She'd never been afraid of him just because he was a werewolf – excluding the night he'd hunted her and Harry through the Forbidden Forest, transformed. But right at that moment she could see just how unreasonable and vicious Remus could truly be, should he set his mind to it.

She almost snorted to herself when she recalled that she'd instead been matched to a much less reasonable, and much crueller man in Snape, but she squashed the urge sufficiently before continuing.

"When he has done so, he will be inviting you and Sirius to share the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts after the current woman is removed for the sake of her marriages," Hermione said. "You will have unrestricted access to the Wolfsbane Potion brewed by Severus every month, and he is currently in the process of crafting a potion that we hope will circumvent the detection charms on our Ministry-Issued wedding rings. You will be employed, properly medicated, and able to avoid what I suspect are three of the most pressing fears causing you to fuss this way about getting married."

"And what might those be, Hermione?" Remus demanded, a sneer in his tone worthy of Severus.

"You're afraid you'll hurt the two of them," she pointed to Harry and then Tonks. "You're afraid you'll be a burden because your lycanthropy causes trouble for holding a job. And you're terrified of the reproduction clause of the Ministry edict, because despite being one of the very smartest men I've ever had the privilege of meeting, you still delude yourself with the idea that you will genetically pass on your lycanthropy to any offspring you sire."

Remus growled at her quietly, though he looked somewhat disarmed by the way she'd cut to the heart of his issues quite so proficiently.

"Even if it cannot be passed on genetically, any child would still be forced to endure the horror of having a monster for a father. In this case, also as a step-father," Remus said, pointing indicatively at Tonks and then Harry, reminding the two that Harry would also be expected to sire a child with his intended wife.

"Because you've really bee such a rubbish male role model all these years thanks to being a bloody werewolf," Harry rolled his eyes, his words dripping with sarcasm.

"Harry," Remus began, looking pained.

"Don't bother arguing with me, mate," Harry said. "This marriage will be weird enough knowing that she's madly in love with you and thinks of me like a kid-brother, and you think of me like the son you promised yourself you'd never sire. Don't complicate it all the more by being bent out of shape over things we can't change, yeah?"

"They're right, Moony," Sirius sighed, wiping at the blood trickling from his lip where it'd split again after his earlier fight with Snape and then being clocked by his godson. "Just think. You and me teaching the kids up at the school every bit of defensive magic we know. Living in the castle again. Tormenting Snivellous when he gets lippy with me. It'll be aces."

Remus looked over at Sirius, who looked genuinely excited, before sweeping his gaze over Harry's stubborn expression, Tonks's sly grin, and Hermione encouraging smile. When he sighed heavily and ran and hand through his hair, looking embarrassed, Hermione could tell he was done snarling about it.

"We're not pranking your husband, Padfoot," Remus said, shaking his head.

"Bollocks, we're not," Sirius said. "Fucker deserves it, after the shit he pulled today."

"What shit?" Harry asked.

Sirius looked over at his godson and hedged, frowning a little.

" 'S nothin', Pup," he muttered, his cheeks turning pink as he too looked away.

"It doesn't look like nothing," Tonks pointed out. "Didn't get handsy, did he? I've always thought that he's quick to jump into confrontation, old Snape. And I know Harry didn't split your lip like that."

"They fought before I jumped in between them," Hermione supplied, shaking her head.

"Oi, hush, you!" Sirius said, narrowing his eyes on Hermione a little though his expression softened a little too and Hermione's stomach flipped at the glint of affection in the slant of his mouth when he held her gaze.

"I know you don't think that's ever actually going to work on me, Sirius?" Hermione said, putting her hands on her hips and raising her eyebrows at him daringly.

Sirius answered only with a winning smile that she was sure had conned more than one woman out of her knickers over the years.

"You lot going to kill each other if Hermione and I step out?" Sirius asked, slanting a look toward Remus, Tonks, and Harry.

"We'll be fine," Remus muttered, moving over to put the kettle on and laying out three cups, evidently deciding it was time to sober up and have a calming cup of tea.

"Where are you going?" Harry wanted to know.

"I need a dress," Hermione admitted quietly. "Professor Dumbledore thinks it would be safest for all three of us if we're bound in matrimony as quickly as possible. There's a certain type of ceremony ritual that will mean we can't kill each other and have to protect each other. Dumbledore fears that S-Severus will be asked to bring either of us before V-voldemort and ordered to kill us."

"Bloody hell," Harry said, looking stricken. "I didn't even think of that! You're both in danger having to marry that git."

"We'll be alright, Pup," Sirius promised him. "Old Snivellus isn't as tough as he thinks. The ritual will help protect us. Just means we've got to tie the knot sooner than I'd like."

They all traded worried looks, but no one said anything. Nothing about the situation they'd all found themselves in was easy or uncomplicated. It was messy and treacherous and potentially violent and painful and heart-wrenching and Hermione wanted to hurry up and get it over with so that they'd all be safe. But she was also terrified and wanted to delay for as long as possible, and didn't know how to do both and so she found herself biting at her nails and picking at her nail beds until they bled while Sirius used his wand to repair his shirt before offering her his hand and nodding toward the door.

"C'mon, love," he said quietly. "Let's get our monkey suits for the circus and get this mess over with, yeah?"

Hermione bit her lip, nodding as she reached out and took his hand, letting him tug her out the front door and down the front steps of Grimmauld Place before he pulled her into his chest and disapparated them both across the city to a busy muggle shopping hub.

"You want to shop for your dress on your own?" he offered, frowning a little at the thought but clearly knowing she didn't want him to see the dress before the ceremony. It was bed luck, after all.

"I suppose we'd better," Hermione said. "I'll look in there."

She pointed to a store a few shops ahead dedicated to bridal gowns and accessories.

"Alright," Sirius nodded. "I'll take a look around and see what I can find that might do for me. Did Snape indicate whether or not he already had a suit?"

"He has dress robes from the school functions he has to attend, I'd imagine," Hermione said.

"Shit. Suppose that just a plain old muggle suit won't really do for the sole surviving son of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, eh?" he grumbled, sneering the title of his family's house.

"As its sole surviving heir until you sire a son or daughter with me, I'd say it's up to you how you want the reputation and the actions of your family house to be perceived in this new era, Sirius," Hermione told him gently.

Sirius stopped abruptly and turned to look at her, his eyes wide and his mouth open slightly in surprise. Clearly, he'd never thought of it like that.

"You… wouldn't mind?" he asked. "If I did away with all the traditional wizarding bullshit and… carved my own path?"

Hermione smiled a little, tipping her head to one side.

"I'm muggle-born, Sirius," she reminded him. "Suave suits for formal functions are all I've ever known – or were until the Yule Ball at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament. My entire existence has become an amalgamation of muggle and magical means of dressing, thinking, acting and living. I don't mind in the slightest what you do or how you do it. It's your wedding day, too. Why don't you dress for it in whatever way will make it the most bearable for you?"

Sirius frowned, looking like he didn't know what to make of her statement, and like he didn't really know what to do in the face of such freedom. The perpetual rebel, Sirius wasn't used to not having to rage against the establishment every step of the way, Hermione realised with a little grin.

"Going to be unbearable, either way, with Snivellus there," Sirius pointed out, frowning at her.

"All the more reason to make sure you're comfortable in what you're wearing then, isn't it?" Hermione suggested.

"Would you care if I rocked up in jeans and my favourite band shirt?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Not if you wear that leather jacket of yours, too," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "It's one of the best looks I've ever seen on a man, if I'm being honest. Even if it is a little eighties."

Sirius laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm suddenly beginning to think I don't know you in the slightest, Hermione Granger," he told her, moving closing and sliding a hand around her waist, pulling her to his chest casually.

"Maybe you don't," Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe half the fun of this mess will be figuring each other out."

Sirius smirked wickedly, looking like the very idea of getting to know each other better was the best thing he'd heard all day. Hermione smiled in return and she sank into him when he closed the distance between the two of them, softly claiming her lips and kissing her with surprising tenderness like she was something precious to be treasured and adored. Her stomach flipped nervously, and her heart began to pound, and Hermione found her hands lifting to cup his strong jaw, kissing him back hungrily.

He tasted of whiskey, but his lips were soft, and his tongue was insistent as he requested entrance before sweeping inside to make acquaintance with hers for the first time. She might've melted just a little bit, there on the sidewalk surrounded by muggles as he kissed her until she was dizzy, her mind spinning and her heart humming inside her chest. Kissing Sirius felt good. It felt right. It felt easy and comfortable and like they'd been doing it forever, and Hermione marvelled at his abilities to completely ease her tension and make her forget that in as little as a few short hours he might be her husband.

When they pulled apart, he laid his forehead against hers and sighed softly, his mouth twitching at the corners on a soft smile.

"Go get yourself a dress, treasure," he murmured, brushing his nose against hers gently. "I'll meet you in that little coffee shop over there when we're both ready to go, alright?"

He nodded toward a coffee shop across the street from the bridal store, slowly releasing his grip on her.

"Okay," Hermione promised, and Sirius smiled warmly in return, seeming just as pleased with their kiss as she felt before he winked at her and turned to saunter away down the street in the direction of a shopping centre.

Squaring her shoulders, Hermione turned toward the bridal store with a little trepidation. Seizing the courage that had seen her sorted into Gryffindor, Hermione walked up the steps and pushed open the door, intent on finding something – anything – to wear that might at least make her feel like a princess for a day, even if she rather felt like she was about to become the Great Wall erected between two powerful enemies.