Chapter Four

Hermione awoke to the feel of Sirius stretching beside her under the covers, his bare body pressed along hers. She didn't open her eyes yet, aware he'd gotten up to do something and had then climbed back into the bed.

There was a brush of something plump, rounded, and fleshy against her bottom lip and she smiled, knowing what it was from the scent tickling her nose, yet feeling a mischievous need to toy with the man. "Is that a strawberry?" she asked, still with her eyes shut.

He snickered, his breath warm against the side of her throat and his chest rumbling at her back with the sound. "Well, if you think it's something else, then you've seriously overestimated my attributes."

A small giggle that she simply couldn't help escaped her in response. She always seemed to laugh so easily with him, which could be construed as odd when one considered that the pronunciation of his name was, phonetically, another word for 'stern.' Maybe that's why he was so . . . bloody goofy all the time, to steal away any chance for someone to make 'why so Sirius?' jokes.

She took a bite, savoring the mildly sharp sweetness—this had only just ripened, so there was a faint edge of bitterness to it, still. "Mmm. Do you intend to spoil me this way every time we wake up together?"

With a grin, he reached across her, dipping the strawberry into a bowl of cream on the tray he'd set atop the night table and then lifting it back to her lips for his witch to take another bite. "Maybe . . . or maybe I just want you to wonder so you'll simply have to keep sleeping with me to see whether or not I do."

"Oh, yes," she said with a wistful sigh, turning in his arms to lie on her back. At last opening her eyes, she met his gaze and found her heart aching all over again for how pretty he was. Those perfect blue-grey eyes and that long, only slightly sleep-mussed jet hair. She didn't even want to think what her own wild mane looked like right now—but he seemed to like it, so she supposed it couldn't be too terrible. "Because getting to 'simply' sleep with you again isn't incentive on its own?"

That grin melted down into a smirk that full of all manner of prideful emotions. "Well, of course I would like to think so, but I don't want to presume."

"Git," she said, the word rushing out in a tumble of air as she laughed.

Picking up another strawberry, he once more coated it with cream before offering it to her. "Perhaps, but I am your git."

Hermione recognized precisely what he was doing. Oh, certainly he spoke with his usual calm, playful cadence, but what he was really doing was testing the waters—seeing if she still meant what she said last night, when she'd called him her boyfriend. "That you are," she responded, nipping at his curled palm before taking a bite of the new strawberry.

"I was wondering," he started, smiling broadly as he watched her eat, "if you might not help me with an experiment, being so inquisitive as you are."

"Oh, feeding me sweet things while naked in bed and speaking of scientific endeavors? My, you really do know the way to my heart."

"Happy to hear it." He gave her a wink. "So, want to?"

She threw her hands over her face, uttering a whimpering sound. "Why do I feel like I might regret that I want to say yes?"

"Well . . . ." Sirius winced and sucked his teeth. "There is a small chance you might die, of course."

Her brows shot up into her hairline as she propped herself up on her elbows. "I might die? Actually, that panicked me for a moment, there, but I feel like you're not likely to actually let me die, so sure. I'm on board. Tell me what adventurous thing you've got in mind?"

Biting his lip, he leaned over her, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss. After a few fluttering heartbeats of caressing her tongue with his own, he pulled back, humming lightly as he savored the taste of vanilla and strawberry he'd stolen from her.

"That better not have been it, because as amazing as you are at snogging, I hardly think I nearly died just now."

"Of course that wasn't it." Sitting up, he picked another piece of fruit from the tray, dipping it, but holding it in the air above her mouth instead of feeding it to her. With his free hand, he urged her to lay back down.

A warm little jolt arced through her as he peeled back the sheet covering her—as though the mildly cooler air against her skin made no difference with him so close. He turned his head, looking over her naked form quite deliberately before returning his gaze to hers. Starting at her throat, he dragged the tips of his fingers down along her body.

"I was wondering," he said, his voice was dropped low, pitched to a gravelly whisper, "if someone can eat while in the throes of an orgasm."

Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers trailed over the dips of her hipbones, in turn. "Ah, I see, so . . . ." She swallowed hard and reminded herself to inhale. "The 'small chance I might die' would be whether or not I choke on a bit of fruit while coming?"

Sirius once more bit into his lower lip as his hand sank between her thighs. "Sex and food are the two most glorious things in all of existence. I think it would be absolutely fantastic if we could partake of both at the same time, don't you?"

In spite of herself—this was just so silly, wasn't it? She could die all because Sirius Black wanted to appease more than one appetite at a time—she found that she was craning her neck, stretching to bring her mouth closer to the creamed fruit he held just out of her reach. As she closed her lips around it, she felt the rough brush of his fingertips stroking her clit.

She halted, clamping her lips together as he worked her in quick circular motions. Only the damp touch of the strawberry reminded her of his intention. Hermione wasn't even certain when, exactly, but her eyes had drifted closed.

Opening them, she locked her gaze with his. Feeling strangely, thrillingly obscene, she obediently took another mouthful, pausing mid-bite to suckle at the fruit. There was something so divine in hearing the way his breath shortened for a moment as he watched her.

He understood precisely how to touch her—worse, he knew that he understood precisely how to touch her, making it faintly obnoxious that he could coax her into writhing beneath his ministrations so fast. She didn't even care, though. The sweet tingling pressure teasing along her limbs, the feel of her body clenching tight, pleading for him to fill her, was too nearly too much too soon.

Sirius huffed out a harsh breath as her fingers slipped around his cock. He had been so distracted with what he was doing for her, he'd not even noticed when she'd snuck her hand into his lap. He couldn't help a grin; she was trying, but it was clear from her uneven movements that she was far too absorbed in his stroking. Far be it from him, however, to second guess a lady's decision.

He moved around her and she found herself being fed another bit of fruit. Withdrawing the offering for a few seconds, she could feel him pull her legs around his hips, the hand between her thighs never once faltering. Dammit with her eyes closing of their own volition, again! But between him and the food, she couldn't help herself—sensory overload of the most wonderful sort. Closing her eyes let her focus on the sensations flowing through her.

Tilting his hand to rub over her clit with the pad of his thumb instead, he thrust his pelvis. Her entire body trembled with his entry and she let out pleading sound.

"Ah, ah," he murmured as she fell into rhythm against his movements. "We're not done with this."

She was overwhelmed. The succulent morsels he was feeding her, the hard, deep motions of him inside her . . . . Hermione held her breath, keeping the fruit against her tongue but cutting it off from her airway as she threw back her head, her muscles tensed and gripping around him as she came.

He couldn't help that he was watching her again while the orgasm rocked through her. The expression on her face might've been pleasure or pain, perhaps some mingling of both and he pressed against her, darting his tongue between her lips to nick that last bite from her. Freed of it, she drew in a gasp, moaning as the sweet pressure broke over her and began to ebb.

As she shuddered and started rocking beneath him once more, he rolled them over, letting her guide him into release of his own. He muttered in name in a gruff, halting sound as he spent himself.

When they stilled against each other, he found her staring down at him, concerned.

Her evident worry immediately set off his own. Catching his breath, he reached up, cupping her jaw with his hands. "What's wrong?"

"Sounded for a moment there like you were choking!"

A smirk curved Sirius' lips. "Okay, perhaps I should've clarified that there was a small chance that one of us might die."

She lowered carefully against him, taking a turn at feeding him from the tray of strawberries and cream. "Maybe next time we can try a sexual experiment where neither of us risks death?"

Her wizard made a thoughtful sound as he chewed and swallowed before pulling her close for a kiss. "We can try, but they might not be as much fun."

"Do you have to go?" Sirius' voice rang in her head pleasantly, still, as she made her way through the tightly-packed shelves of Flourish and Blotts.

"Oh, believe me, it's not as though I want to. I'd much rather stay here all day and let you spoil me . . . again. But we've been doing nothing but shagging and eating—"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he'd said in an admonishing tone. Even now the exchange made her smile.

"It's a lovely thing, but we've been doing nothing but for almost a week and I do have a job to do. We can't all be filthy rich pure-blood heirs who don't have work for a living, you know." She'd been putting this off, but she knew she shouldn't. Granted, there wasn't much more to do for her 'experimental magic'—oh, that was a pleasant surprise! Now, thanks to Sirius' shenanigans, simply thinking of the word 'experiment' sent a heady little rush through her—but to test magic, and the full moon wouldn't wait for Sirius to decide he wasn't in the mood.

Still, though, she'd felt it her duty to at least do a bit more reference work before the Ministry gave the potion-and-charm remedy to Remus. They might not be friends, they might not be . . . anything to one another, at all, but she still didn't want anything to happen to him. Especially not because of her.

Already she had a few of the texts she'd deemed most worthwhile for her extra research in her arms when she spied a book she'd been looking for since before she'd even started this particular challenge. "There you are," she said in a hissed whisper, setting down her armload and shaking her head at the volume, as though it could hear her. They'd ordered it at her request months ago, but one mishap after another led her to believe it was simply never going to arrive, and so she'd given up on waiting. She couldn't blame them for shelving it after too long in hopes someone else might buy it—they had a business to run, after all.

Drawing her wand from within her sleeve, she pointed and flicked, coaxing the book down from the high shelf. Easing it neatly atop the small stack, she exhaled a sigh as she looked down at her reference material. She couldn't take her work back to Grimmauld Place, or she'd never get anything done. Oh, sure, Sirius would try to help, but then they'd just end up shagging on the sofa. Or the armchair. Or wherever he found her innocently sitting in the house.

Once more unable to stop herself from smiling at the thought of him, she scooped her bundle into her arms and started toward the staircase.

All rung up and happy with her purchases, she even caught herself humming a little under her breath. She'd decided she would grab a quick lunch at The Leaky Cauldron and do her studying there as she ate. The day was seeming perfect.

Which, in retrospect she considered, was why everything had to come tumbling down around her ears.

Since she was going to take her books right back out once she reached her destination, she hadn't seen much point in her usual shrink-and-stow method of carrying items for travel. Instead, she hefted up the books in her arms and turned to head for the door.

No sooner had she taken a step out into the crisp, open winter air, then has someone barreled right into her. Landing none too delicately on her bum, she winced as she looked toward her toppled texts. Fortunately, it hadn't snowed or rained recently, so the pavement was dry.

The thought of her books being ruined wasn't what made her cringe and hold in an unhappy groan. It was that as she searched for the human-shaped torpedo that had knocked her down, she found an unfortunately familiar tall and lanky frame hurrying to pick up her fallen books.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his hurried words ringing with sincerity. She could only guess he'd not seen exactly who he'd plowed over, just yet.

She waited for him to turn and see her. The hand he'd reflexively extended toward her hovered in the air as his gaze landed on her. Hermione could tell by the sudden blend of shock and . . . and what else, she honestly didn't know, that crossed his face that he considered pulling his hand back as soon as he realized it was her.

Setting her jaw, she decided to be mature about this. After all, she'd not ever done anything to Remus Lupin, so why he should be so angry with her all the time was beyond her, and thus she decided none of her concern.

With some reluctance, she placed her hand in his and let her help her to her feet. "I'm fine, Remus," she said as she dusted off her bum with her free hand.

"I . . . sorry. I just wasn't paying attention." He relinquished his hold on her hand the moment he was sure she wasn't actually hurt—as though he couldn't bare to touch her, but still didn't want to be responsible for injuring her.

"It's fine, really." Good Lord, this was awkward. He wouldn't look at her, she wouldn't look at him. And she hadn't the foggiest idea of why things were like this between them. "My—my books, please?"

Remus looked from her outstretched hands to the bundle of books he held under one arm. "Oh, right. Sorry." As he rearranged them to hand them over, he couldn't stop himself from noting the titles. Werewolf research? Specifically the repelling of lunar energy and the medicinal properties of other plants that mimicked the effect of wolfsbane. Books for creating new potions. Charms to protect from moonlight.

He looked from the stack of books to her. "You're the one the Ministry hired to circumvent the lycanthropic dependence on wolfsbane?" Her chestnut eyes were huge as she stared up at him, that wild golden-brown hair held back by simple little braids and her fair cheeks were dotted pink from the chilly air. The look on her face, nearly as though she expected him to yell at her, was like a crushing weight pressing down on his chest.

Hermione was a little taken aback that he didn't sound angry, he sounded . . . startled. "Yes."

Swallowing hard, he shook his head. He didn't even appear to realize he still hadn't given her back her books yet. "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

She knew that by 'anyone,' he specifically meant Harry or Sirius. The witch shrugged, making another gesture for him to hand over her research materials. "I wasn't allowed to tell anyone. Harry didn't know at all, and Sirius didn't know until he received your letter." Though she felt bad about pointing out the pettiness, she couldn't help feeling a little petty herself as she tacked on, "He and I both thought if you knew I was the one behind the, well, let's call it the Wolfsbane Solution, for lack of a simpler description, then you would refuse to take it even if someone else volunteered and it turned out to work."

Remus fought to not let a shocked breath rattle out of him. He'd been so terrible to her, and so obvious about wanting to be terrible to her, that she honestly thought he'd give up a chance to be free of the moon's pull just because it was tied to her? Yet, she hadn't let his attitude deter her from doing something that could help him and those like him?

He had underestimated her. That only made him feel lower. He was angry with her for being with Sirius, but then he had no right to that. He was angry at Sirius for his interest in her, yet he had no right to that either. Neither of them had done a thing to hurt him.

His own inability to deal with his feelings stoked his anger anew, this time at himself. But he knew if he didn't get away from her—right bloody now—he'd snap at the witch as though she were at fault.

"Here. Sorry," he said, dropping her books into her waiting arms and pivoting on his heel.

Hermione chewed at her lower lip in thought as she watched him go. He seemed in just as much of a hurry now as he'd been when he'd barreled into her.

She'd not taken this job with the Ministry for him, but with the way he'd rushed to get away from her just now, she wasn't sure he understood that. Her shoulders slumped as she turned and started for The Leaky Cauldron. For all she knew, he might think this was an attempt to win him over. Oh, she couldn't let him believe that! There were so many werewolves in the world, scared and mistreated due to their affliction, who could benefit from this Solution of hers.

Maybe she should insist Sirius talk to him, sort this ridiculous misunderstanding between them—whatever it was about, whatever had caused it—before things really got out of hand.

She ignored that even now seeing him react so negatively to her presence sent a sharp, icy stab through her heart.