Hermione Granger allowed herself to breathe a sigh of relief when her hand finally grasped the cool doorknob of Number Twelve Grimmauld. Her day had been trying, and her nerves felt more than frazzled.

Her day had started out like any other – a delicious scone and steaming chamomile tea, hand delivered to her (promptly at 7am) by Joseph Boot, the younger brother of Terry Boot and her favorite intern at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She had nibbled her scone and sipped her tea while enjoying her morning copy of The Daily Prophet (which had increased significantly in reliability after Luna captured the spot as top editor). At 8am, when her day was officially scheduled to start, she had propped open her office door and worked diligently on a report, concerning the security at the upcoming Christmas Yule Ball, that Kingsley had kindly asked she complete.

Hermione had taken lunch at the small café located on the second floor of the Ministry with Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein; the three classmates compared their work schedules for the day and amicably discussed their holiday plans. They promised to meet again for their usual lunch the first day they were scheduled to return to work.

Looking forward to the holidays, which were to begin in only a few hours, Hermione returned to her office whistling an old Muggle Christmas tune with a swing in her step, even stopping to gaily wish Draco Malfoy a happy Christmas at the lift.

It was less than three second after she seated herself again at her desk that, as Fred and George so eloquently said, shit hit the fan.

Her assistant, the voluptuous and ever chatty Veronica Jones, ran into her office, her heels skittering across the hard floor, with a look of fear in her eyes Hermione had not seen since her war days. She instinctually found herself on her feet, wand in hand, as Veronica caught her breath and gesticulated about wildly for several minutes, indicating there had been a breakout at Azkaban Wizarding Prison.

Hermione, as Junior Head of the Department, had spent the next 7 hours flying around the Ministry with her counterpart, the Head of the Department, Penelope Clearwater. The two women had interviewed countless people, including taking a trip to the prison to speak with the guards about the incident; Hermione had even gone as far as to search the surrounding grounds. Since the dementors had been done away with after the war, the Ministry had developed a special program specifically designed to train the wizard guards stationed there. As Harry had been asked to design the program and handpick the first group of trainees, those who left the program had been nothing short of wickedly talented with a wand. In fact, in the five years since the war's end, this had been the first breakout to occur.

Fortunately, the two prisoners who had miraculously managed the escape were found just after the clock struck 8. They had washed up on the rocks bordering the mainland, bruised and soaked, but alive. So Hermione had again traveled to the prison, this time to speak with the men and garner just how they had managed their escape (she was surprised to learn it was similar to Sirius' escape, with one of the men having entered the prison only a week prior as an unregistered Animagus, taking the form of small rabbit).

After taking record of their interviews and rewriting the messier parts to suit her orderly tendencies, Hermione returned to the Ministry and walked the report to Penelope's door, placing it in her mailbox; Hermione had shooed Penelope, who was now 8 months pregnant, back home as soon as word reached the Ministry that the prisoners had been apprehended.

Hermione had not, however, been ready for the tirade of scarlet letters that flapped around her doorway when she returned. The first Howler exploded so violently she was certain it had been waiting for hours. Unexpectedly, the magical public was emotional over the breakout, with roughly a fifty-fifty split between terrified and furious. The next three letters erupted simultaneously, blackening the golden plaque on her doorway. By the time she was even able to reach her door handle, two more had exploded into a fiery, sooty mess.

Batting away many more unopened letters as the next few transfigured into angry faces, Hermione made a grab for her leather briefcase and dashed back through her door, carelessly leaving it open in her rush to the lift. The little buggers were terribly persistent, however. By the time she reached the atrium, Hermione's ears were ringing and her fingernails painted in soot; feeling incredibly worn out, she sunk down onto the golden Fountain of Brethren to wait out the rest of the letters. It had taken a full fifteen minutes of explosions, but the last red corner of envelope eventually floated down to the floor.

Removing her hands from her eyes, she took a moment to sift through the remains of the envelopes. Each appeared to be addressed to the collective Department of Magical Law Enforcement, which explained why they had so kindly decidedly the attack her, as she was the only remaining member of the Department still at work in the Ministry. Picking herself up and dragging her feet to the allotted apparition point, Hermione absently thought it was better she had returned to the Ministry than her superior – Penny didn't need such stress at this time.

So, after a hellish day, Hermione was finally home and ready to begin her Christmas holidays. Her long fingers were bright red as she turned the bronze knob, the warmth of the house's interior immediately assaulting her running nose. She smiled unconsciously, quickly stepping out of the cold air and sinking back against the door.

It was only moments later that uproarious laughter filtered into the hallway, followed by the sound of someone coughing and renewed laughter at the misfortune of the choking individual. Racking her brain, Hermione tiredly remembered Sirius warning her that morning he would be hosting a poker game after hours. She shook her head and pushed away from the doorway, intending on greeting their guests before she took to her bed.

Cigar smoke assaulted her nostrils as she pushed the door open to one of several living rooms in the Black home, and Hermione immediately squinted. Unthinkingly, she waved her hand in front of her face and coughed.

Harry, sitting closest to the doorway, jumped up immediately upon her entrance and greeted her with an over enthusiastic, sloppy handshake that quickly turned to a hug. "'Mione!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at her obviously sloshed mate and steered him back to his chair. "Hi, Harry. How's Ginny?"

Harry grunted a reply and Hermione rolled her eyes affectionately. She took a moment to look around the table at the gaggle of Weasleys and smattering of other wizards. Aside from every male Weasley sibling (everyone had returned home for Christmas), Harry, Remus and Sirius also occupied seats at the table. Drinks in hand and several of the brothers dragging from cigars, the room smelled nothing short of the busiest London pub.

"Her'inny!" Ron slurred with a lopsided grin. "Long time no see!"

She quirked an eyebrow, feeling tired and irked but she tried not to let his drunkenness bother her; she knew he meant well. "You know, Ronald, it's not my fault you don't come to visit us anymore."

Ron grinned. "Come visit me! Please, 'Mione. Pansy's cooking…"

Hermione grinned back. Harry had moved out of the old house almost a full year previously, at Ginny's insistence they find their own home to begin a family in. Ron had followed several months later, revealing his engagement to none other than Slytherin's Ice Princess, Pansy Parkinson. So Hermione had been left to board with only Sirius. Speaking of her housemate, she noticed he had both forgotten his undershirt and forgotten to button his shirt; although she suspected he had done so purposefully, she hardly minded, as Sirius's flat stomach was no sore sight.

The sound of breaking glass jerked her out of her reverie. She jumped, her head whipping up to the now-surprised face of her roommate. She looked from his face to the broken glass on the floor and back, her face flushing and fists tightening at her sides.

"Sirius! Is that my crystal?"

He ran a hand casually through his black bangs. "We ran out of glasses," he muttered.

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, the stress of her day finally crashing down over her, causing her limbs to shake. "Sirius Orion Black! I have asked you multiple times to stop using my things when you drink, but you never listen! Bloody fucking hell, Sirius, that doesn't even belong to me! It was my father's!"

Hermione turned on her heel and stormed to the door, angry, unnecessary tears wavering in her vision. She wrenched the door open and turned around to glare at the shell-shocked man once more. "And for fuck's sake, this is home, not a brothel! Stop smoking like it is!"

She stormed away and up the stairs, stomping angrily over every step. The curtains over the portrait of Sirius' mother flew open, but Hermione already had her wand at the ready – thank Merlin that Harry had found a spell that could silence her without physically shutting the curtains. It allowed Hermione to continue her angry stomping in peace.

Reaching her room, she tossed her briefcase on the floor and flopped face first onto her bed with a groan. She immediately recognized her irrational behavior; the crystal was her favorite and Sirius was somewhat disrespecting her things, but the broken glass was easily mended with magic. However, her fit had allowed her anger over the earlier Howler bombardment to dissipate some.

She flipped onto her back, unzipped her pencil skirt and shimmied out of the material. Hermione sat up, kicking her heels onto the wooden floor as she worked her arms out of her blazer. She worked the buttons of her blouse next, at the same time rolling to her knees and crawling to the top her bed. Finally, she shucked the garment, leaving her white cotton tank and silken black panties. Content with the sleepwear, she collapsed onto her pillow with a groan.

Five minutes later, Hermione reopened her eyes as another frustrated groan rumbled from her chest. She was too wound up to be able to sleep. She rolled over to stare at her ceiling. Of course, it was the result of a nearly 12 hour, hectic work day, but Hermione was happy to lay the blame on Sirius. She glared at the ceiling, clearly recalling his nonchalance as he passed his eyes over her upon her entry and his arrogant dress (or lack thereof). The man had taken to wandering around without a shirt, and sometimes in only a towel, shortly after Harry and Ginny had moved away. He never buttoned his shirt, if he did happen to be wearing one, leaving his gloriously toned abs for the world to admire.

Hermione found her fingers twitching at the memory of his soft shirt lying over his broad shoulders and naked abs; she groaned, keenly attuned to the needs of her body by this point in her life, and inched her fingers to her knickers. It was her custom to wind down a stressful day with a pleasuring visit south, and she should have known trying to sleep without it was simply not to be.

So she obliged to her body's wishes, slipping her hand beneath her panties, the silk cool on the skin of her hand. She dipped a finger into her core and was not surprised to find herself ready for the night's exploits; Hermione sighed contentedly, running her now wet finger back and forth between her folds slowly. She snuggled her head into her pillow, bringing her finger higher to run circles around her clit, teasing herself appropriately with a well-established rhythm. She continued her administrations for a while longer, alternating between lightly flicking and pinching her pearl and dipping back into her folds in a painstakingly slow manner.

Hermione found herself unabashedly wondering what the fingers of the shirtless, arrogant sex god (as the rumors told) would feel like under her hand. Her lower abdominals clenched and a quiet moan of his name passed over her lips. She paused long enough to reach for her wand on her nightstand. Setting it to vibrate, she took the object in her left had, allowing the tip to tease in and out of her dripping entrance; her right hand continued its circling, squeezing, and rubbing of her clit.

Within minutes, Hermione was panting without reserve into her pillow. She clenched her thighs and her back arched just slightly off her covers as she fought to hold on as long as she could, guaranteeing a stronger, sweeter release when she finally lost control. As her wet fingers passed firmly over her swollen nub, she dipped her wand into her center; it took only one final pass of her fingers to rip a moan from her lips, her hips bucking upward uncontrollably. She pressed her head into her pillow as the ecstasy flowed through her body for the following seconds.

Withdrawing her hand and wand from her knickers, Hermione shook with small after tremors of her self-administered orgasm. She sighed in relaxation; "Sirius," she moaned the object of her fantasies aloud to her room, turning happily into her pillow

But she only had another half minute of relaxation before, shockingly, she heard someone clear their voice. Hermione jerked out of her pillow and sat up abruptly, one hand reaching for her blankets (forgetting she was still mostly clothed) and the other for her wand. Her heart nearly stopped when eyes as dark as night met her own from across the room; his eyes were half lidded and staring at her intensely. In his hands he was carrying a silver try with a plate and glass.

Hermione lowered her wand, keeping her covers gathered to her body. She cleared her throat awkwardly. "Sirius?"

The slightly older man shook his head as if he had fallen into a trance. When he looked at her again, it was with decidedly more embarrassed eyes; his cheeks were even slightly red. "I brought you some cookies. And milk."

"You brought me some cookies," Hermione repeated in shock. "And milk."

He nodded slowly, scuffing his toe across the floor. "Harry explained the breakout. I sent everyone home, and fixed you these." Sirius indicated the tray, his eyes momentarily falling to his offering. "To apologize. Thought you might be stressed. The door was open…"

"You brought me milk and cookies." She paused for several very long moments. "You brought me milk and cookies," she repeated again. A large grin suddenly broke out onto her face and she began to laugh, holding the blankets tightly to her chest. "Milk and cookies! How very Santa Clause of you!"

Sirius raised an eyebrow in what looked like concern as Hermione continued to laugh, the day's stress and embarrassment at having been caught with her hand in her pants (quite literally) sweeping her up into a whirlwind of strange emotions. He set the tray slowly onto the floor, keeping his eyes trained on her.

Hermione continued to laugh. She finally shut her eyes tightly and breathed out heavily, grinning at the ceiling. "I ought to call you Santa," she muttered half-deliriously to herself. She opened her eyes to tell him of her idea, only to find him so shockingly close her breath caught in her throat.

After several attempts at speech, she was finally able to squeak out a few words. "If- if that's it, the snack sounds wonderful. Thank you, Sirius. I'm sure all I need's a little food."

Sirius blinked; had she really never noticed how long his eyelashes were? "That's not what I heard. What else do you need, Hermione?"

Hermione swallowed – hard. After Ron had moved out, their nighttime conversations had more frequently morphed to witty, flirtatious banter, but Hermione had assumed that was the result of Sirius' outgoing personality; not having time for affections of the opposite sex for well over a year, Hermione had hardly minded the fun. Now, though, to see him so seriously contemplating her, after months of nothing but playful words, was a frightful site. She swallowed again.

"I asked you a question, kitten." He was so close that she could feel his breath pass over her cheeks; he smelled of apple brandy.

"I-I'm fine," she choked into the silence.

He shook his head, his black hair falling into his eyes so much like his godson's always did; but Sirius's hair looked infinitely silkier, Hermione decided. She jumped when his calloused fingers touched the bare skin above her knee. His other hand crawled forward to press against her shoulder, lowering her back to her sheets as he lowered himself over her.

His lips found her pulse point and she gasped, unconsciously arching upward into him. She vaguely noticed he had lost his shirt somewhere between the first floor and her room, and she took advantage of that, her hands inching upward to grip his biceps. She needed something to anchor herself to this world, as her world was suddenly spinning.

"Sirius," she moaned, feeling him move the juncture of her neck and shoulder. He nipped over the sensitive skin gruffly before abruptly changing tactics and lathering her skin with his tongue.

Hermione actually felt Sirius's grin in her shoulder. "Yes, kitten?" She moaned again, and he chuckled. "I asked you what you need, Hermione. You have to answer."

Hermione settled for another quiet moan as he worked his way across her clavicle, nipping, suckling and lathering small circles against her skin. She tightly shut her eyes, her fingers gripping tighter to his arms. She didn't want to answer out loud; she was rather certain the moment she did that this wonderful fantasy would slip between her fingers. She squirmed underneath the older Adonis as he lightly tickled her neck again. In response, he brought his hands to her hips, pressing her squirming form into the mattress and she gasped. He soothed his fingers over the exposed skin between her tank and panties, drawing another small gasp between her lips. Sirius tickled over the silk of the thin barrier before walking his fingers upwards, over her stomach and stopping at her ribs. She groaned when he traced the underside of both her breasts with his thumb.

When his fingers stilled, she shook her head against the pillow. "Don't stop."

"Don't stop what?" he whispered innocently into her neck. He chuckled again, and finally he lifted his head to meets her darkened eyes. He blinked several times, watching her carefully. "You have to say it, Hermione."

She twitched beneath him, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, and whispered quieter than a mouse, "I want you. Don't stop."

That infamous Black smirk wound its way onto his face. "I don't think I heard that. You want who, kitten?"

Hermione finally found her courage, annoyed with his taunting, and glared at him with no real conviction. Had her hands been less occupied with his biceps, she might have hit him over the head. She cleared her voice. "Shut up, you twit, and kiss me."

He laughed, bringing one of his hands up to smooth through her chestnut curls. "There's our bossy little swot."

That time, she did hit him over the head.

He laughed at her as he finally lowered his head over her lips. It was blissful. Although Sirius had accumulated a number of small facial scars during the war, no enemy had marred his beautiful lips. They were full, round and red; Hermione marveled at how smooth they were, even during the cold, windy season. He peppered them masterfully from corner to corner of her own lips, drawing a small noise of protest from her at his teasing.

"Sirius," she growled up at him. He pulled away again to grin at her, this time kissing the end of her nose. She rolled her eyes. "If you don't get on with it, I'll be as old as you by the time we're through."

He let out a full-bodied laugh at her taunting. "As you wish, little girl."

Sirius' lips bent again to capture hers, pressing with a new insistence. His dark tongue darted out to smooth across her lower lip, and she gladly allowed him entrance. Hermione clashed back fiercely with her own tongue, eager to smooth over every crevice of his mouth to learn his unique taste (mixed with the apple brandy, of course).

Hermione gasped when he drew back, dragging her lower lip into his teeth and nibbling gently, groaning when he pulled back far enough to toe the brink of pleasure and pain. Her eyes shot open, falling back immediately to a half-lidded state as she stared up at him; he still wore that infuriating smirk, but she could tell by the coloring of his cheeks he was enjoying himself too.

Hermione took a moment to study him. One of the larger reasons she had broken off her relationship so long ago with Ron was the lack of physical connection. Hermione had been the one to initiate every sexual encounter between them. While she found she enjoyed being the dominant partner, Ron was never willing to clash back against her; his movements were passive – cute, but incredibly frustrating for someone of Hermione's temperament. She had taken several sexual partners since then, but fulfillment had been few and far between.

She knew Sirius to be as stubborn and hot headed as she often was, and she hoped their quickly escalating actions would do nothing to hurt their friendship in the end.

Hermione blinked, drawing herself back to the present to see Sirius playing with the sleeve of her tank, his fingers tickling under the strap. She moved her hand from his arm to the front of his shoulder, pushing gently into his skin. He rolled off of her compliantly, and she rolled along with him, landing in a straddle over his waist.

She bent to retrieve the lobe of his ear between her lips, sighing contentedly as she reconnected with his skin. When her kisses moved across his neck, she felt his deep throated growled vibrate through to her lips, and she smiled at the strange sensation. His fingers massaged small circles into her shoulders as her own trailed back and forth through the hair over his chest.

Lemons – his skin tasted like lemons; and he smelled of something deep and soothing, like cinnamon. The lightly salty taste combined with his intoxicating aroma made it difficult for Hermione to want to remove her lips from his skin at all. So she continued her attack, moving over the juncture of his neck and shoulder; she grazed her teeth over top the muscle covering his shoulder, leaving the tiniest of bite marks.

Sirius growled in approval beneath her, and Hermione shivered with pleasure knowing her administrations were undoing his control.

Hermione kissed downward, drawing wet circles around his right nipple before latching on gently with her teeth, pulling back enough to make him growl once again. She repeated the action on the other side, each time lapping gently over the strained area afterward.

Hermione continued downward.

When she reached for the buckle to his pants, his hands found hers to give pause. Hermione looked upward to see dark eyes staring back at her, but he cleared his throat and shook his head. Running a hand through her curls, he whispered, "You don't have to, kitten."

Hermione smirked up at him in response, kissing the hand that lay on top of hers before removing it. Hermione hoped he understood she appreciated his concern, but she was far from fearful of him. She flicked her tongue over her lip and whispered back, "I want to, Sirius."

Sirius shut his eyes and groaned, moaning something about 'women' and 'undoing.'

Hermione made quick work of unlatching his belt and unbuttoning his pants; the sound of the zipper being pulled downward was glaringly loud. She hooked her thumbs into the top of his pants, pulling down slowly and continuing to watch him with an amused smirk. He growled and made to quicken his undressing, but she swatted away his hand with an amused laugh, resulting in another string of quietly mumbled words and he glared at her lightly.

Finally, she freed his very erect member from the clothing, watching with an almost naïve fascination as it bobbed back and forth as he wiggled his pants off his ankles. He was large by her standards – nearly the length of her forearm. Her other lovers had been consistently skilled, but none had been so well endowed. Hermione reached forward, running a finger nail from base to tip, ending in a full circle around the head; her eyes flickered upward to gaze his reaction, only to see he remained propped on his elbows with his head hung backward and eyes closed.

Hermione grinned, repeating her actions again slowly. When she reached the head, she found him dripping with fluid, weeping over onto his length. She gathered a bit across her forefinger and thumb, rubbing them across one another and closing the gap to her lips.

At the sudden absence of her fingers, Sirius lifted his head; he opened his eyes in time to see her little pink tongue dart out to capture the cloudy fluid from her fingers, and he groaned in approvals. "Gods, 'Mione."

Hermione raised her eyes, staring at him as he stared at her. She kept his gaze as she lowered her head, her tongue again darting out to capture more fluid, this time from the head of his hardened cock. Sirius hissed through his teeth, his eyes squinting but never fully leaving hers.

"Mmm." The sound vibrated warmly through her chest as she fully sampled his taste. Much like his skin, he was lemony with a salty tang. Hermione found for the first time in her life enjoying the taste of a man's seed, and the thought caused the fire in her belly to lick higher.

Hermione dipped her head again, this time engulfing the tip with her lips, sucking gently and flicking over with her tongue as she released him. She repeated the action, swirling her tongue around his head like a French kiss. Now wet with a combination of his fluid and her saliva, Hermione tickled over the head and down his shaft with feather-light touches, kissing across his pelvis with her lips; she lightly bit over his hipbone, drawing a chuckle from him as she intentionally tickled him.

Hermione grinned up at him before returning to his standing member. She pierced him with her most sultry look as she lowered her mouth over his cock once more, pushing her lips past the head and down his shaft. She sucked him in slowly, relaxing her muscles until he bumped the very back of her throat; she found she could reach the base of him with her lips if she pushed very lightly downward.

Sirius groaned deeply at her efforts, one hand tangling into her curls while the other fisted the blankets. Hermione could tell he was trying hard to keep his breathing in check. "Do that again."

Hermione obeyed, this time sucking with more pressure on the way up; she released him with a pop, immediately dipping back down to capture him between her lips.

She continued her administrations – swirling her tongue, gently pumping up and down with her hand, sucking on the way up and sliding slickly on the way down, teasingly running her fingernails over the smoothest skin of his sack – until beaded on his lip and his panting was audible. He met her movements with small thrusts with his hips, holding himself back from hurting her with the last of his control. As the pressure his hand exerted on the back of her head increased, his moans became more frequent and explicative phrases flowed freely from his lips.

"Bloody fucking hell, Granger," he gasped when she twisted her head from one side to the other as she pulled up over his shaft. He met her gaze hungrily. "I'm going to come, kitten," he whispered to her, fingering her hair as he continued his thrusts. "Pull back, Hermione."

Hermione did as bade, bringing her tongue to his head and running two swift circles around the crown while continuing to pump with her hand. She waited for him to catch her gaze before plunging him back into the warm cavern of her mouth, sucking and swirling her tongue on the way down.

That was it for him.

"Fuck!" he shouted, his hand clamping down on her curls as his leg twitch. He exploded into her mouth with a cry of her name as she sucked upward, bringing him forcefully as she took every drop. He was finally forced to shut his eyes as a second wave of hot seed spurted from his cock across her tongue, groaning loudly and pumping several times more in quick succession. She continued swirling her tongue until his shuddering stilled, drinking in his entire sweet spill.

When the shuddering ceased and the groans of pleasure quieted, Hermione removed her mouth, gently cleaning any sticky fluid that had escaped with her tongue; she licked lightly over his sack, up his length several times, and finally finished with a wet kiss across his crown.

Sirius was still recovering in the pillows. Hermione lifted herself with her arms, sliding up his body with intent to tease; she started at her neck, sliding his cock across her clavicle, through the cotton valley between her breasts, over her stomach, and finally ending on the silken barrier across her core. She delighted to feel him harden slightly as she moved across him, even so soon after his powerful orgasm. She hummed in delight, pressing a kiss to his throat as she slid her fingers into his hair.

Sirius gripped her arms, pressuring her to raise her head and look into his eyes. There was a compassion there she only ever saw when he looked at Harry, mixed with an intense emotion she couldn't place; her stomach turned over seeing him so openly share part of himself with her.

Sirius ran a hand gently through her chestnut curls, stopping to scratch lightly at the back of her neck. The corners of his lips turned upward when she made a small, delighted noise. "Thank you, Hermione."

Falling back to her earlier demeanor, Hermione averted her eyes, fixating on his right ear. She cleared her throat lightly; suddenly very afraid she had come on too strongly; too much like a common whore. "Oh. You're welcome."

"Kitten," Sirius whispered to her, using his other hand to tilt her chin upward again. "Don't be embarrassed. That was the most mind blowing thing I've ever experienced."

Hermione took his compliment with an excited smile, the wariness disappearing. "Really?"

"For fucks sake, Granger," he answered with a chuckle. "Who knew you're such a dom in the sack?" Hermione blushed straight down to the roots of her hair, and Sirius chuckled at her again. "That's a good thing, kitten. Although, being a sub has its perks, too."

Sirius shot her a toothy grin and she rolled her eyes, laughing along with him. "You're such a git."

Sirius laughed, raising an eyebrow as he moved his hand from her chin to the strap of her shirt, fingering it gently. "Keep up insults like that, Granger, and I might not feel the need to repay you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Oh, really?"

Sirius hummed in affirmative response. "Don't worry." He strained his neck to reach hers with his lips, nipping over the smooth skin to draw a small sigh from her. "You're in the clear for now."

Too caught up in his kisses to formulate a response, Hermione settled for another contended sigh, relaxing into him as he rubbed her shoulders and upper back. He wasn't satisfied with their innocent actions for long, though; after a particularly hard nip over her collarbone (which she was sure would bruise) he rolled them over once more, pinning her under his weight, his lips never disconnecting from her skin.

Sirius lifted his head to kiss her properly again. She clashed back with a fierce need and a small moan of delight as he swiped through her mouth with his tongue. They gave and took from each other, learning every sweet curve of the other's mouth while Hermione took to running her fingers over and over again through his silky hair. He ran his hands down her sides, rubbing small circles into her hips, dragging his fingers back up, and ending at the underside of her breasts.

When Sirius lifted his shoulders to better reach her mounds, his hips shifted against hers, his growing erection rubbing on her thigh. Hermione groaned, her grip on his hair tightening. Sirius growled back, gripping each of her breasts and massaging inward with his palms. Hermione gasped into another kiss, arching upward into his hands. He obliged her unspoken wish with a firmer grasp, rolling and pushing the soft skin under his hands.

After what felt like a millennia of slow touches, Sirius finally changed his tactics, stilling his hand movements and focusing only on his long fingers. He rubbed several times over each nipple; she was surprised suddenly when he pinched each bud lightly, rolling the tit between his fingers. Hermione wiggled underneath him from the sensations.

Sirius dipped his tongue into her mouth one last time before picking his head up and kissing again down her neck, stopping to pay attention to her ear, Hermione groaning when he dragged his teeth over the lobe. He continued his path, nipping again at her shoulder and lathing over the cleavage visible from her disheveled top. Then his mouth was on her through her clothes, suckling against her nipple as he flicked his tongue over the tip. Sirius released her, blowing cold air against the now wet, cotton-covered tit; Hermione moaned deeply.

Sirius played for another minute, delighting in the noises Hermione made as her chest arched upward to keep him from moving too far away. Sirius chuckled at the way her adorable actions made her look unbelievably sexy against him.

"Sit up some, kitten," Sirius whispered against her neck.

Hermione didn't waste a moment scrambling onto her elbows as he pushed the white cotton off her stomach, over her breasts, and pulled the tank from her arms. She leaned the rest of the way to kiss him once more before she fell back into the covers again.

Gods, her tits were gorgeous! Sirius's mouth watered as the perfect mounds bounced with her when she lay back. Her breasts were large, firm, and perfectly round; he knew from his earlier massage that each fit perfectly against his hand, but he only now realized how large they were against him. Each nipple still stood tall in the cool air, begging him closer. Even her areolas were perfect – small, deep pink, and the perfect size not to take away from the rest of her tits.

Hermione cleared her throat, growing nervous, as his movements had stilled completely.

Sirius tore his eyes from her breasts, looking up with a truly surprised expression. When he noticed her nervousness, Sirius barked out a laugh. "Fucking hell, Hermione, you can't seriously think I wouldn't find these," Sirius reached to tweak her nipples again, drawing a small whimper from her throat, "absolutely perfect. Have you ever looked at yourself, kitten?"

Hermione blushed, but she couldn't keep the grin from creeping onto her face. She shrugged, the action pushing her breasts again into his hands, and he smirked at her.

Unable to keep his mouth from touching her for any prolonged time, Sirius raised both eyebrows at her in playfulness before dipping his head back down and kissing the underside of her right mound. He reached with his fingers to tweak the bud again, watching as the cold, strained peak tightened further under his ministrations. His cock twitched against her thigh, and they moaned together.

Sirius kissed underneath her breast again, drawing the curve with his tongue and beginning to rub her other breast against his palm. His tongue moved upward, drawing a full circle around her areola, and Hermione gasped again. Not wanting to keep her waiting any longer, Sirius dragged his tongue directly over her now fully erect nipple. Hermione mewled cutely when he pulled the bud fully into his warm mouth.

He rolled it over and over under his tongue, Hermione gasping and mewling along the way. Occasionally, Sirius grasped her tit between his teeth, pulling back until she inhaled deeply before releasing the sensitive area; he would follow by gently suckling the bud until she was again moaning under his tongue.

After paying sufficient attention to her gorgeous breasts, Sirius kissed and lathed downward, taking in the sweet scent of her and her just barely tanned skin. Her stomach was as well toned as the rest of her small body, with two faint lines showing the curve of her abdominals. He noted a jagged scar close to her belly button, recalling she had been cursed by a Death Eater in the Department of Mysteries (the very place he had come so close to losing his own life) and tortured by Bellatrix nearing the war's end; he made a note to ask her later.

Sirius reached the line of her black, silk panties and kissed along the edges, making sure the nibble on her hip with intent to tickle, much as she had done to him. Hermione squirmed underneath him with a giggle that abruptly cut off when he reached down to rim her most intimate parts through the black silk.

Sirius smirked up at her. "You're wet."

Hermione huffed in amusement and wiggled underneath him again. Sirius obliged with a grin, hooking his fingers into the rims of her panties and dragging them down to her ankles, tossing them unceremoniously onto the floor.

Sirius sat back onto his heels to finally look at her fully naked self. Hermione allowed him, not moving against her basic instincts. Sirius had experienced his fair share of unclothed women in his lifetime, but he had never experience one quite like Hermione. While many of his conquests were attractive at first glance, some small flaw marred their naked figure. Hermione, he instantly decided, was the only women who could never wear clothes to do her incredible body justice.

Her feet were tiny, and her ankles were slim, leading into toned, tan calves that still held their muscle from her days of running in the war. The hair was shaven from her legs, and the only scar that remained was faint against her right thigh. The juncture at her thighs was a perfect, feminine 'v', with tight chestnut curls shielding him from her lower lips. Her pelvis and stomach were toned, accentuating further the large, round tits that flowed into delectable shoulders and a long neck. Sirius finished raking her over with his eyes, finally coming up to look into the prettiest face he had ever seen.

He smiled gently to reassure her. "You are truly beautiful, kitten." He surprised her when he dipped forward and rubbed his nose through the curls protecting her most feminine parts. Hermione could hear his deep inhale and satisfied growl. "And you smell like heaven." Sirius brought his eyes up to meets hers. "Open your legs for me, Hermione."

Taking immediately to his commanding, deep tone, Hermione slid her thighs apart and bent her knees to please him. Sirius groaned when her scent washed fully over him and he got his first view of her core. Hermione's lower lips were a deep pink, with her clitoris just peaking out from her folds. She was dripping wet, the fluid glistening over her pink skin.

"Gods, angel," Sirius groaned, his eyes widening slightly to take in the full site of her. He leaned forward again, repeating his earlier action and rubbing his nose against her clit; Hermione mewled underneath him, her fingers digging into the only part of his shoulder she could reach.

Taking another breath of her intoxicating scent, Sirius poked out his tongue to sample her, growling possessively as her warm fluid washed over his tongue. His tongue returned for more, lapping over the edges of her lower lips completely.

He twirled the tip of his tongue over the very top of her clit, drawing a strangled cry from her throat as she rocked toward him.

Smirking at the wanton noises she made, Sirius grabbed Hermione's hips and tilted them upward, bringing her lower back off the bed and forcing her legs to hang over his shoulders. From this angle, he had a perfect view of her quivering center, and his tongue dipped back in to enter her.

Hermione positively cried at his intrusion.

So he continued – dipping his tongue in and out of her slit and nibbling on her swollen lower lips with care. Hermione moaned unrestrainedly beneath him, meeting the thrusts of his tongue with small bucks of her hip.

"Yes, yes, yes," she hissed, screwing her eyes shut tightly as he fucked her fast with his tongue.

Hermione's juices now covering his lips and tongue, Sirius moved again and swiped his tongue over her now engorged, sensitive little pearl. Hermione cried out again, followed by another moan as he swiped slowly back and forth over her nub with the tip of his tongue.

"Sirius," Hermione moaned, clawing again at his shoulders with hair short nails. "Don't stop. Don't you dare stop."

Sirius growled back a response that was muffled by her quim. He felt her leg muscles clench around his shoulder when he suckled over her clit, pulling it from her body until she moaned before releasing her momentarily and then diving back in. He teased and taunted her with circles of his tongue and deep kisses against her core.

Hermione was a panting mess beneath him. "Oh, Sirius! Ohhh. Just like that. Oh, that! Yes, yes, yes, Sirius!"

Sirius felt her lower lips spasm, and moments later a fresh flow of her liquid flowed across his chin. After one final swipe to her sensitive clit that drew a long moan from her chest, Sirius moved downward and dipped his tongue into her again, plummeting in and out as her lower lips quaked around him.

Riding the waves of powerful orgasm, Hermione cried his name to the ceiling until her legs calmed to small trembles.

Sirius lower her hips gently back to the mattress and wiped her juices from his chin. He quickly crawled up her body to lie against her warm skin, peppering kisses over her shoulder as she recovered.

When Hermione's eyes fluttered open, she rolled her body into his, sighing happily. "Sirius?"

"Yes, kitten?"

"Let's do that again." Sirius barked out a laugh at her innocent tone, shaking harder when she opened her eyes to look at him curiously. When the silent 'oh' crossed her lips, she grinned with him. "Not immediately, you twit. Just, you know, again sometime."

"It's a date," he purred into her throat, kissing over her pulse roughly. He had every intention of doing that again, and hopefully within the next several hours.

Just as he was nibbling his way back over to the top of her breasts, the most awful sound met his ears: someone knocking on his door.

Sirius sat up and looked at Hermione, who was giving him a bewildered look. He shrugged his shoulders. "Ignore it," he muttered, lowering his head again to her neck.

The knock, however, again came loudly; the front door had been charmed so that a knocking would sound from every wall in the house so Sirius would always know when he had a visitor.

He growled into Hermione's neck, cursing about the time of night and visitors, but he eventually picked his head up nonetheless, giving her an apologetic look. "I'll be right back."

So Sirius scurried out of bed, neglecting his boxers and simply yanking his jeans back on. He zipped them up quickly and was out her door in a flash.

Too curious to be left lying naked in her bed, Hermione slipped back into her pajamas (and unlike Sirius, her undergarments), grabbed her robe from the bedpost and headed out the door after him. She could already hear the commotion coming from the downstairs. She hurried her step, taking the stairs two at a time.

As disappointed as she was to be interrupted, Hermione couldn't help but giggle when the door finally came into view. Several stairs below her, Sirius was standing in front of the door with his shoulders noticeably clenched; his godson has just slipped past him, into the warm of the house; and Remus was standing on the stoop, gesturing about something or other.

Hermione stepped closer to listen to Remus' story. "I tried to take him home, Padfoot, but he and Ginny recently made their house unplottable, and I haven't been to see them yet. I couldn't get through any of the barriers or even find the place."

Hermione could hear Sirius's growl from her place on the steps. "And why couldn't Harry stay with you?"

Remus shrugged. "You know Tonks. She doesn't like anyone coming back to her house totally trashed. It's our understanding: she doesn't bring home her drunk friends, and I don't bring home mine."

Sirius growled again. "Ron's?"

At that moment, Harry caught site of her on the stairs and stumbled toward her, grinning like a small child. "'Mione!"

She smiled in amusement at her best friend. "Have a good poker night, Harry?"

"I won!" he shouted excitedly, spinning in circles. Hermione took her eyes off him for a moment to find she had missed Remus's explanation for Harry being unable to bed with Ron and Pansy (although, she had suspicions it had to do with the latter subject).

It only took that long for her to take her eyes away. A spinning Harry tumbled into the umbrella stand, knocking it and the nearby table off kilter; the vase on the table rocked to the side before she could grab it and crashed to the floor.

Sirius whirled on his heel, looking irate; his features softened slightly when he caught site of his surprised godson. He sighed, stepping back into the home and away from his argument with Remus. Sirius slung an arm under Harry and began hauling him down the hall. "Come on, Potter; you'll be sleeping on my couch."

"I want to sleep on a bed!" Harry complained, accepting Sirius's help in walking.

Sirius huffed in amusement. "I'm hardly about to drag your drunk ass up the stairs."

Laughing to herself, Hermione looked to the door to see Remus pointing his wand at the vase; several intricate waves later and it was repaired, sitting again on the upright table. She smiled kindly at him. "Thanks, Remus. I must have left my wand upstairs."

Remus looked over her head and laughed at the stumbling pair. Hermione turned to watch as well, leaning on the doorframe with Remus beside her, watching their friends argue amicably down the hall.

"You know," Remus began, not lifting his eyes from his friends, "they remind me of Sirius and James in school. There was a night at the end of our sixth year that James had finally managed to start a real conversation with Lily; no fights or jeers. They were laughing about something. I remember so well because I had to physically drag Peter from the room to keep from interrupting. Just as I was beginning to think Prongs and Lily might be getting over their childish feud, a drunken Sirius came bursting into the common room to ruin their moment. Lils was so furious she didn't speak to Sirius for a week."

Hermione smiled as Harry stumbled into the wall, pulling Sirius over with him. She heard Sirius curse and Harry giggle again. "What's that have to do with this?"

"I just thought you might enjoy the story." Remus laughed and Hermione turned around to catch his wolfish grin as he turned back to the apparition point. "Enjoy your night, Hermione."

With another wolfish chuckle and a wink, Remus disappeared into the cool night air.