Hello everyone! Did you miss me? Is there anyone still reading what I write?

Welcome to my new Sirius/Hermione story. Please read and review. Enjoy, and if this isn't your cup of tea, don't read. Please note that Sirius does nothing until Hermione is seventeen.

I tried something new here. Please look at the dates, so you can get a sense of when things are happening. I used the HP Lexicon to make sure all my dates are correct. And as this was intended to be a one shot, but got too long, expect another chapter soon.

December 20, 1995
Number 12, Grimmauld Place
Sirius' Bedroom

"I missed you." She nuzzled his chest as he held her close. She had missed his smell, his voice, the feel of his body against hers. She had missed him.

"I missed you too." He buried his face in her wild hair. She smelled like cold snow and warm coffee. He had missed having someone to hold, to love. He had missed her.

"Did you like my present, love?" he asked her, and she loved the way his chest vibrated in time with the rumble of his voice.

"I loved it. I'm wearing it now." And she was wearing the ring he had given her, along with the beautiful necklace that had been his present for her coming of age.

"You can't imagine how eagerly I was awaiting this day." He looked down into her eyes, then, unable to resist, captured her lips in a kiss. "Gods, I missed you, Hermione," he said against her lips before kissing her again.

"Sirius," she whispered. "Oh, Sirius."

June 7, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Kitchen

"What do you mean Harry can't come here until August! I'm his godfather! If I want him in my house-" Sirius raged, before Dumbledore interrupted in that horribly calm and I-know-best tone.

"He needs to stay there for reasons you are not privy to, Sirius. And you have no legal foot to stand on, so to speak." With a stern look over his glasses, Dumbledore drove the painful, yet glaringly obvious truths in. But with another blink of an eye, he turned gentle. "I do not do this to harm either you or Harry, Sirius. But it must be done."

"For the Greater Good, right?" Sirius said bitterly, casting his eyes downwards. How was it that Dumbledore always made him feel like an errant firstie about to get his first detention?

Dumbledore looked older than Sirius had ever seen the wizard look. "Right. For the Greater Good."

"So when can he come?" Sirius asked, desperate for a definitive date, acknowledging some subconscious fear that Dumbledore would stall and stall until the first of September. "When in August?"

Dumbledore frowned, knowing what the man was trying to do. "I will aim for the fifth, Sirius. But Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger will arrive on the nineteenth."

Sirius snorted. "Trying to console me by delivering his best friends almost a month early? What use do I have for Hermione Granger?"

Dumbledore gave Sirius a sharp look. "In the case you've forgotten, Sirius Black, Hermione Granger is the only reason you still have a soul. Have you thanked her for that?"

June 19, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Library

"Hermione? Do you have a minute?" Sirius leaned against the door of the Black Family Library, gazing at the girl- no woman- who was curled up in a comfortable chair with a cup of tea and a large tome.

She looked up, and Sirius almost forgot for a moment that she was only fifteen. She had certainly changed in two years. "Of course, Sirius. And thank you again for letting me use your library. It has so many books I've never even seen!" At the mention of the library, Hermione's eyes widened and sparkled, and the genuine smile of her face seemed to make her glow.

"It was no problem, especially for you, Hermione," Sirius said, his voice made low by emotion. Dumbledore was right. He had never properly thanked her.

"For me?" Hermione seemed surprised. "Pardon me for asking, but why?"

Sirius raised one eyebrow. "Did you completely forget the night you saved my soul from being kissed away by a Dementor?"

Hermione blushed at the reminder. "You are innocent, Sirius. I couldn't have just let you die, especially if I had a chance to save you."

Sirius sat down at the chair in front of her. "How did you save me, Hermione? I was wondering about that."

Hermione's hand rose to her neck suddenly, drawing Sirius's attention to her chest. In the time that he had known her, Hermione had blossomed. And it was coming to his attention that she was a beautiful woman.

Hermione cleared her throat, bringing Sirius' focus back to her eyes, glad she hadn't caught him. She didn't have enough experience with boys yet, he thought. She was still blushing and he realized that when she was embarrassed, the flush of red in her cheeks made her look even more alive, made the honey eyes brighten and the dark curls look even darker against her skin.

"Well-" she stopped herself, and struggled with her internal sense of right and wrong for a moment. "Can you not talk of this with anyone other than Harry or I?"

Sirius nodded. "Of course."

Hermione sighed. "I'm really going to regret this one day," she muttered, before taking a deep breath and squaring her small shoulders. "I used my Time Turner."

Sirius leaned back in his chair, the full implications of the revelation running through his head. "Wow. So you had to rescue me without running into your past selves and without disrupting the time line. And you planned this?"

Hermione nodded. "It wasn't easy. But my brain only gets that type of exercise once a year."

"Once a year? Sirius inquired. What could be as difficult as manipulating time to save a (never convicted) mass murder?

"The average amount of times someone or something makes an attempt on Harry's life," Hermione said without batting an eye. "And the average amount of times I have to make sure they don't succeed."

Sirius leaned forward, looking Hermione in the eye. "I think it's about time someone told me the truth about all of Harry's adventures."

Hermione set down her book and tea, and leaned forward herself, her nose almost touching Sirius'. "I think it's time too."

June 22, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Kitchen

"What do you mean you haven't even started your summer homework, Ron?" Hermione asked, hands planted on her hips, completely oblivious to the rest of the Weasleys, Sirius, and a few other Order members who were watching the 'conversation.'

"What I mean is I haven't started my summer homework!" Ron exclaimed, face red.

"So when I'm not there to mother you-" Hermione started, eyes glowing in warning at Ron, before Ron exploded.

"You mean when you're not there to nag me and Harry half to death!" he shouted. "When you're not there to make sure we can't have fun, you little know-it-all swot!"

Hermione faltered at this, and from where Sirius was standing he could see tears starting to gather in her eyes. "Ron-"

"NO!" the redhead shouted. "No! I'm done with all the 'Ron, do your homework. Ron, don't talk with your mouth full. Ron, don't do this. Ron, don't do that.' You are nothing but an insufferable know-it-all that Harry only keeps around because he feels guilty about trapping you in a bathroom with a bloody troll in our first year!"

Hermione just looked past Ron, into Sirius' eyes. He could see the pain there, the questions, and the conclusions she was drawing. Then the tears that had been only threatening moments before burst, and Hermione ran out of the room, refusing to cry out until the door had slammed shut behind her.

Everyone in the room looked at Ron, most with angry eyes. Arthur and Sirius both opened their mouths to say something at the same time, but Arthur waved Sirius first.

"Weasley." It was said in a voice barely above a whisper. "That girl has saved your ungrateful arse more times than I can count. She has lied for you, plotted for you, and made sure you passed your end of the year exams. And you treat her like she is lower than nothing. The only reason you are still in my house is because both your parents and two of your brothers are good friends of mine." With a sneer worthy of Snape, Sirius stalked out of the kitchen, and everyone could hear him run up the stairs to where Hermione had gone.

Arthur looked surprised for a minute. Then he straightened, wiped his glasses, and glared at his son. "Ronald. I have never been more ashamed of you than I am now, especially after hearing what Sirius had to say-" He was interrupted by his wife, who had waited out of respect for Sirius before exploding at her son.

"RONALD BILUS WEASLEY!...

June 22, 1995
Number 12, Grimmauld Place
Third Floor Washroom

"Hermione!" Sirius knocked at the door. "Hermione! Please let me in."

The soft voice did the trick. The door clicked open, and Sirius let himself inside. Hermione was perched on the side of the tub, crying. She wasn't making any sound, just sitting, head buried in hands and shoulders shaking.

Sirius sat next to her, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her. "Hermione. It's okay, Hermione. That selfish waste of space Weasley is wrong, because he is too jealous of you to see all you do for him. I don't know what made him so nasty today-"

"He's always like that." Her voice was rough and high. "He hates me. If it wasn't for Harry, we wouldn't be friends at all. He just hates me."

"What do you mean, 'he's always like that,'" Sirius asked, voice low and silky smooth. In the three days since Hermione had arrived, he had gotten to know the witty and kind girl behind the thick books and large brain. He liked her. She could make him laugh, an almost impossible feat. And for some weird reason, she liked being around him too.

"What I said," Hermione replied bitterly. "We are famous in Gryffindor for our rows. We can never agree on anything. I've learned to give in or be abandoned." Sirius was mad now. He really like the Hermione he had seen the last few days: sunny and cheerful, with a smile and laugh as close as the nearest book.

"Be abandoned?" Sirius questioned, still holding the girl in his arms. He was aware that this was the closest he had been to a woman, a living breathing woman, in almost fourteen years. Contrary to popular belief, he did not seek out women on his escape from Azkaban, and then Hogwarts. He had been alone for too long, and the warm, shaking form of Hermione Granger was reminding him of that.

"Do you remember the Firebolt you sent Harry last year?" Sirius nodded. "Well, I was afraid you had sent it, and I was right. So I went to Professor McGonagall to ask her if there were any ways to remove harmful spells on broomsticks. She had me explain, and ended up taking the Firebolt away for the rest of the holidays so that she could make sure that Harry would be safe when he rode it. Ron was furious with me, Harry took his side. They didn't speak with me for weeks, until Hagrid told them I was working myself to the ground. It was the worst year of my life. And every time Ron and I argue, Harry takes Ron's side. And if I want to have any friends, I give in. It's all I can do." Hermione looked up at Sirius, eyes full of tears, yet still defiant. "I have to go apologize to him soon, or he'll just stop talking to me."

Sirius looked down at the crying girl in his arms. "Oh, Hermione." He hugged her to him, and whispered in her ear, "If they stop talking to you, just send Snuffles an owl. No one should have to be shunned just because they don't always agree with someone else. And I will be having a talk with my godson."

Hermione absorbed the words, shivering at the sensation of hot air on her ear. Sirius pulled back and smiled at her, a smile that had probably captured many hearts in its day. "C'mon, love. Stop crying," he smiled again, and she just had to smile in return.

"Alright. Do you know the spell that makes it look like you haven't been crying at all?" She looked up at him hopefully.

"Of course I do. Can I borrow your wand?" Hermione looked at Sirius confused, then her face awoke with understanding, then anger.

"Sure. I can't believe those imbecilic lowlifes at the Ministry, snapping someone's wand before they even give him a trial!"

It made Sirius wonder at the heart of the girl in front of him. One of her best friends just told her he hated her and she wasn't mad at him. When faced with an injustice of any sort, she went on a rampage. It was enough to make him start laughing.

"What are you laughing about?" she asked, eyes on fire again, and life back in her body. "I know stupidity is expected in Ministry workers but this really crosses a line!"

"It does, love. It does."

June 24, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Drawing Room

"Hermione! Watch out!" Sirius yelled, attacking a cloud of doxies with a sprayer and pulling Hermione behind him.

"Thanks," she said breathlessly. "They were coming from everywhere."

Sirius grinned. "No problem. I'll watch your back if you'll watch mine." It was strange how he had full trust in Hermione. To him, it made sense that a girl who had faced down a werewolf would be able to protect his back.

They went back to attacking the infested curtains, along with Mrs. Weasley and the twins.

June 25, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Drawing Room

"And that's my family tree. You can see that I'm related to almost everyone whose anyone in the Pureblood world." The words, meant to be taken lightly, drew a sharp glance from Hermione.

"Lucky you," she replied, tone light, eyes piercing. "I would kill for such an heritage."

When she received a sharp glance in return, Hermione shrugged. "It couldn't have always been that bad. At least blood traitors are still above mudbloods." At Sirius' shocked face, Hermione laughed, abet bitterly. "I've always wondered if my entrance to the wizarding world would have been different if I hadn't been discriminated against because my parents are dentists and not Healers."

Sirius swore lightly. "I never really thought about it that way. I've always been rejected because I was thought to be too good for the company I kept. I just never thought about how it was for the company I was keeping."

Their eyes met, and something in each of them connected. Sirius reached out a hand, and touched one finger to the curve of her jaw, Hermione tilting her head to allow him better access.

"FRED WEASLEY!"

The shout from Mrs. Weasley caused the two of them to jump apart.

June 27, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Master Bedroom, Third Floor

"You are keeping Buckbeak in the house? In your mum's room?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"Yep," Sirius said with a smile. "Aw, don't be so down, luv!" he crowed in an excellent Cockney accent. "He's a good beastie, ain't ye Buckie?"

Hermione smacked Sirius on the arm. "So you've showed me your escape vehicle and your alias. What did you bring me up here for?"

Sirius' smile dropped from his face. "I wanted to apologize for what happened the other day. I had no right to even be thinking about a young girl that way. And-"

Hermione put a hand up. "Sirius, how old do you think I am?"

Sirius thought for a bit. Harry had mentioned that Hermione was older than him. "Fifteen?"

Hermione grinned. "Nope."

He thought again. What the- damn. The Time Turner. "Sixteen?"

Hermione nodded. "I'll be seventeen on July eighth. That was determined by the Ministry to see when they would take the Trace off me."

Sirius scrunched up his nose. "An explanation would be nice. I've been wallowing in self loathing for two days thinking I was a pedophile."

Hermione giggled. "Physically, mentally, and magically, I'm almost seventeen. I'll be a legal adult in eleven days."

Sirius looked at her. "And there is a reason you're telling me this other than stopping me from wallowing in self loathing."

Hermione looked straight at Sirius, honey meeting charcoal. "I've been wondering why I didn't stop you and why I didn't make you finish what you started for two days."

Sirius' gaze darkened, and Hermione shivered. "Hermione. Did you like it when I touched your face?" he asked, making his voice low and sensual on purpose.

She shivered again. "I- I don't know." It wasn't often that those three words were Hermione's answer to any question.

He stalked closer to her, until there was less than a foot between them. "Would you like a reminder?"

Hermione hesitated, then whispered, "Yes."

Sirius brought his hand up slowly, and ran his fingertips from the side of her forehead, down the path of her cheek until he reached her chin. Her eyes had fluttered closed, and he lifted her head until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"Well, love?" he asked, raising one eyebrow expectantly.

Hermione smiled slightly. "Yes."

June 30, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Kitchen

It was dinner time, and Sirius could not take his eyes off Hermione. She was sitting with her red-hair friend, little Ginny Weasley, and Tonks, talking with them and laughing aloud.

Tonks had said something particularly funny, and Hermione threw her head back with laughter, heavy curls exposing her neck to Sirius' view. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he listened to the sound of her laugh, as he watched the pulse in her throat.

"Sirius." It was Remus. His oldest and best friend, and the man who knew him better than anyone else in the world. His oldest and best friend who knew what he looked like when he was entranced by a pretty girl.

"Remus," he answered, figuring saying nothing would be just as bad as saying something. He might as well go for the obvious.

"Sirius," warned Remus again. "She is only fifteen."

For a moment, Sirius was tempted to explain to Remus, to clear himself of all guilt in his friend's eyes. But Hermione had asked him not to tell anyone. So instead, he went for the obvious once more. "I know that."

"Then you know you cannot have her." That was where he was wrong. Sirius tore his eyes away from Hermione and onto the worried visage of his friend.

"Remus-" he tried to start.

"You are twenty years her senior, Sirius!" Remus exclaimed in a whisper. "I am just a few months older than you and I was her professor!"

Sirius looked away again, back at Hermione. She turned her head, feeling his gaze on her perhaps? Their eyes met, her glance one of burning passion and shy desire, and his full of easy confidence and open want.

Next to him, he could hear Remus draw a sharp breath, then swear fluently. "Damn you, Sirius. Damn you to Hell. What the-"

Sirius just winked at Hermione, who turned an appealing shade of pink and went back to her friends. "Remus. You know me. Would I do anything with her until she is of age?" His harsh gaze turned on his companion, his fellow Marauder. "Would I do that?"

Remus regarded Sirius for a moment, then sighed. "The Sirius I knew as a teenager would not have. And I really hope the Sirius that I know as an adult will not."

July 2, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Second Floor Bedroom

"What do you need me for, Sirius?" Just moments ago, he had asked a frazzled Mrs. Weasley if he could borrow Hermione for a few moments so that she could help him with a special project, instead of cleaning the kitchens. She has agreed, and Sirius had dragged Hermione up the stairs and into one of the unused bedrooms on the second floor.

"I need you to help me clean this room for Harry. You know what he likes best." Sirius was wearing his adorable puppy dog eyes, and was full of eager energy. It was a strange sight for the handsome man.

Hermione nodded. "Who will he be sharing with? Ron?" Sirius scowled for a moment. "I don't like it. But the only other room that won't be in use is my brother's bedroom, and I don't want to put Harry in there. So I guess so."

Hermione chuckled. "If it was Ron's choice, he would choose Chudley Orange. But I think Harry would choose shades of dark blue and gray, or red and gold."

"Blue and gray?" Sirius asked. "Why those?"

"They were his favorite colors before coming to Hogwarts. Then he was Sorted into Gryffindor, so the default from there is red and gold."

"Thanks, love." Sirius winked at her, then kissed her forehead unexpectedly.

"Any time," Hermione replied, a bit dazed by the kiss. On a spur of the moment impulse, she stretched up and kissed him on the cheek. "Any time, Sirius."

July 8, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Sirius' Bedroom

"Sirius? Where are we going?" asked Hermione, who was being lead up the stairs by Sirius, blindfolded.

"To my room, love. I have a surprise for you." Hermione's heart skipped a beat when he bent down to murmur in her ear.

"Why?" Her brains had melted somewhere on the second floor. All her thoughts were circling around Sirius, his hands, his voice, his body.

"Because it's your birthday." Hermione caught her breath, letting out a little moan when he kissed the side of her neck, then the skin right below her ear. "And you are coming of age."

The blindfold was removed, and Hermione could see that she was inside a large room, decorated with Gryffindor colors and posters of Muggle biker girls. Sirius took her hand and led to over to the huge bed, sitting her down before rummaging in the bedside table.

"You are coming of age, which means two things," he said, still looking for something. "The first, that you can use magic and are a legal adult. The second- Got it!- that you are considered to be able to legal consent to an adult relationship." He stood, then sat down next to her.

"And that means I have two things I want to give you," he was behind her, and his hands were doing something. "The first, this." She could feel cool metal settling around her neck.

He lifted the charm, a large ruby pendent set in gold. He held it up to the light, and inside Hermione could see a lioness rampant, a figure in gold trapped in the ruby. "Happy Birthday, love."

She had turned on the bed until she was facing him. "Thank you, Sirius. Thank you so much."

Sirius grinned. "Aren't you eager for your second present?"

Hermione blushed. "And what is the second thing you wanted to give me?"

Sirius leaned into her, until there was almost no space between them. His eyes were darker than Hermione had ever seen them, having gone from a light gray to an almost black. "This." Before Hermione could respond, his large hand had cupped her face and pulled her into him, and his lips were on hers.

The first kiss was a soft brush of lips, before he pulled away. "Happy Seventeenth, love." His left hand still holding her face, he wrapped his other hand in her hair and leaned in again, this time giving her time to decide if she wanted another kiss. Instead of pulling away, Hermione just wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her own kiss to his lips.

The second kiss was gentle, and the third harder. The fourth, fifth, and sixth were exploratory, and the seventh long and lingering.

"I think this is my best birthday ever," Hermione said, slightly out of breath. "I love being an adult." They were lying on the bed, on their sides facing each other.

Sirius was regarding her with those same dark eyes, the mixture of confidence and lust and passion. "I love you being an adult."

July 12, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Kitchen

"Hermione, love? Can you help me for a second?" Sirius called from the kitchen.

Hermione sighed, and stood up from her spot on the living room couch. "Be right there, Sirius!" she called. "This might take some time," Hermione said to the rest of the room. "Don't expect me back alive."

This garnered a few laughs, and Hermione walked over the kitchen, stopping at a mirror hanging in the hallway to make sure she looked alright. Honey eyes bright, pink cheeks, curls flying everywhere. Curves complemented by her sweater, and ruby necklace hidden underneath.

"Sirius?" she stepped into the kitchen, and was met by the unusual sight of a flour covered Sirius Black. "Need some help?"

"Uh... Yeah," he said sheepishly. "Molly told me to make dinner and I really have no clue how."

Hermione took in the messy kitchen, and giggled. "And so you recruit me."

Sirius shrugged, and a cloud of white fell to the floor. "You are the smartest witch of your generation."

"Pretty words won't get you anywhere," Hermione warned, conjuring an apron with a wave of her wand and a few muttered words.

"Will kisses?" asked Sirius, hopefully. He walked over to her, and wrapped powdery arms around her, pulling her close to him.

Hermione pretended to consider the offer. "Kisses might sway me," she said with a slight smirk. "You are welcome to try." He proceeded to do exactly that, and three hours later when dinner was served, no one noticed when the two of them played footsie through out the meal.

July 31, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Sirius' Bedroom

"It's his birthday." The words were said in a bitter voice. "Another birthday when I'm not able to be with him."

Hermione laid a soothing hand on his arm, drawing patterns on the skin. "He knows that we want to be with him. If only Dumbledore would let me say something to him."

"What?" asked Sirius, sitting up. "You have been writing, haven't you?" He hated to think of his godson all alone in the house of Petunia Dursley.

"Of course I have, Sirius," Hermione said with a frown. "But Dumbledore reads all my letter and makes me take out things he judges are too risky. So all I'm allowed to say is that I'm 'having fun' and that I'm with Ron and his family and that everything is okay, when I know it's not. If I know Harry at all he is furious with all of us, and blaming himself for Cedric." Sirius flopped back down on the bed.

"Cedric," Sirius thought for a moment, then brightened. "Diggory. The other champion who died."

"Yes," Hermione said, with a slight eye roll "Harry told him to take the cup with him so it's his fault Cedric died. Or at least that's what Harry thinks. Even Viktor agreed that it was just an attempt at fair play, and not a deliberate attempt on Cedric's life on Harry's part."

"Viktor?" asked Sirius. "What were you doing talking with Krum?"

"Well, he was my boyfriend," Hermione said, rolling her eyes again. "We did do something other than snog the entire time."

Sirius sat straight up again. "Your boyfriend?" He hadn't though that Hermione had been with someone other than him. Snogging someone other than him. He didn't like that thought at all.

Hermione sat up, looking him in the eye. "Yes. My boyfriend. Viktor Krum. I went to the Yule Ball with him. I was what he would miss the most in the lake. He invited me to Bulgaria to meet his family. But then I broke it off because he wanted too much, too soon." She tugged on Sirius' arm, but he didn't move. "Sirius. We are only pen pals now. We write, that is all. We live in two different countries and go to two different schools."

"Why didn't you tell me about him?" demanded Sirius. He had seen Krum, and was know regretting it. He had images of Hermione and Krum dancing in his head. Images of Krum and Hermione kissing.

Hermione frowned. "Because it was all over the papers. I thought you knew."

Sirius was glaring now. "You still should have told me. I have a right to know before deciding I want to be with you."

Hermione was now furious, eyes flashing and curls gaining a new life of their own. "Before deciding you want to be with me? I didn't ask for a list of all your past girlfriends before I 'decided I wanted to be with you!' Sirius-"

"But-" He cut her off, knowing that she hated to be interrupted, but needing to explain himself. But when he tried to speak, the words wouldn't come.

"Well? Nothing, Sirius. But nothing. I- I'm-I" Hermione couldn't finish either.. Instead, she rose from the bed and slipped out the door, making sure it was closed all the way before running down the stairs and to the bedroom she was sharing with Ginny. It was only when she was sure she was alone and no one could hear her, she started to cry.

August 2, 1995
Number 12 Grimmauld Place
Pantry

"What the hell? Sirius, why are we in the pantry?" Hermione snapped, trying to jerk her arm free of the tight grip it was in.

"Please. I'm sorry. Please forgive me," Sirius begged. "I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I just-"

Hermione sighed. "You just what, Sirius. I had a life before you and you had a life before me. That should have been then end of it."

Sirius released her arm. "I just didn't like the thought of another man touching you."

Hermione folded her arms. "I'm not a possession to pee on, Sirius."

"I know that!" he exclaimed. "But with the way you reacted when I touched you and kissed you-"

"Was because I had never been touched or kissed like that before, Sirius," Hermione said softly. "Because it was wild and new and exciting. Because when Viktor kissed me it was awkward and strange and only once at the end of a horrible night. And when you kissed me it was full of passion and it sent shivers through me."

Sirius looked down at the girl who had come to hold his heart in her hands. "And if I said it was the same for me? And that I wanted to kiss you again?"

Hermione closed her eyes. "I would say that you know how to spin pretty words into prettier complements. And that you wanted to get into my pants. And that I want to kiss you again too."

Sirius' face brightened. "Will you give me a second chance?"

Hermione opened her eyes, and Sirius could see the fire behind them burning slowly. "How could I not?"

Like I said earlier, this was supposed to be a one shot, but got too long. Look for the next part soon. Tell me if you like it, or if you hated it. If you have read some of my other work, tell me if you like the new style. If you want another Sirius/Hermione, read my other story, The Language of Flowers. If you can read in French, go check out Un coeur, deux ame, trois corps, by the amazing Gwen. It's on my fav's.

Please review, both to let me know what I'm doing right or wrong, and to give me a reason to continue. I've been known for leaving stories to rot because I felt like no one was reading it. (TDMoHP)

Love from Europe (My last day. I'm really sad.), ausland.