A/N Part one of two. Enjoy.

Hermione crept down the stairs, trying desperately to remember where each creaky floorboard was. Though she was grateful to Sirius for letting her live there, and for letting the Weasley's stay at Grimmauld Place, she resented that Mrs Weasley still treated her like a child and had forbid her, Harry, Ron and Ginny from wandering around after bed time. She said with Voldemort defeated, nothing was so important that she need to lock herself in the library until all hours of the night. The older woman just didn't seem to realise that studying, even now after Voldemort and school, wasn't an option it was necessity, like food or water or air.

Hermione jumped the last three stairs – notorious creekers – and continued on down the hall to the Black Library. It was her favourite room in the house. She could happily spend hours, days here. Sometimes the boys, Sirius, or Remus would join her, but usually she was on her own.

She couldn't wait until the renovations on the Burrow were done and she was free to wander about at any time of the day or night.

Ron and his mother seemed to engage in daily warfare about where Ron would live when the family moved back. It hadn't yet occurred to him, and no one had bothered to enlighten him, that as an eighteen year old wizard, his mother didn't actually have any say in where he lived. Or maybe it had occurred to him and he was just being a mamma's boy.

Hermione cracked open the door to the library and checked over her shoulder to make certain no one had heard her. Believing the coast to be free Hermione slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. As the rich musty smell of the books assaulted her nostrils, she knew without a shadow of a doubt where she was. If she had been led here blindfolded she would know where she was, though her eyes saw nothing in the darkness. Suddenly the numerous torches, lamps and lanterns flared to life and sitting calmly at the desk in the corner was none other the Sirius, a cocky smirk played across his features.

"Now, here I was thinking that Molly instructed you no more late night library visits." Sirius eyed the girl, highly amused. He watch as a myriad of emotions danced across her face as she decided which path to take.

That was one of the things that attracted him to his Godson's friend, though he knew it wrong; you could read her like a book.

"Mrs Weasley, though I love her, is not my mother, nor is it her house. So, unless you have a problem with me being here, I think I'll just have a look around, thank you."

Sirius barely contained his bark of a laugh at the self-righteous look she gave him.

"So," he said, removing himself from behind the desk to tail her around the sizable library. "You're saying that if Molly was to walk through that door and tell you to get back to bed, you would repeat what you just said to me?"

"Well… not exactly; I don't want to be cruel."

"Well, what if I were to go and fetch her; dob you in."

Sirius smirked at the shocked look her features took on.

"You wouldn't," she said, hoping he was bluffing.

"Oh, I would. It's been a boring couple of days."

"I – what – you."

Sirius laughed at her indignant spluttering.

The kids had learnt to take his threats seriously the week before after he had dobbed Ginny and Harry in for a laugh because the twins had gone back to work and was bored.

Everyone, even Hermione who didn't have a boyfriend, had been sat down at the kitchen table and give 'the facts of life' speech. It wouldn't have been so bad but Sirius had decided that as Harry's Godfather and master of the house, he should sit in on the discussion. That wouldn't have been so bad except he had taken to using words like, Rocket of Love, quivering member and Hermione's personal favourite, organic dildo.

Ron and Harry had laughed out loud while Ginny and Luna – Ron's girlfriend – had snickered and giggled behind their hands. Hermione alternated between blushing profusely, avoiding eye contact and staring off into nothing.

It wasn't the subject – they'd done life skills at Hogwarts – it was the way Sirius would talk about it. He'd lowered his voice til its silky smooth baritone was flowing over Hermione, lulling her into an erotic trance. That was until Mrs Wesley had snapped and sent them all out the back, into the garden.

It wasn't the first time Sirius' voice had had that affect on her, however that time around she had the feeling he was all too aware of what he was doing to her.

"You know," Sirius said suddenly, breaking into her thoughts organic dildos. 'I think I may just go and tell Molly. It's been a quiet couple of days and I could use some excitement."

"No! Stop!" Hermione placed her hands on his chest.

Sirius smirked down at her. 'I knew she was talk. This is working out better then I thought it would.'

Hermione's brain worked fast. She was all talk; she would never actually stand up to the older woman. She knew Sirius would do it, too. He'd upset the peace for much less valid reasons before.

Even as the frantic thoughts rushed through her mind, she couldn't help but appreciate the feel of Sirius' chest underneath her hands.

"There must be something I can do to amuse, down here." Hermione sighed mentally, 'Might as well kill two birds with one stone.'

His insides jumped for joy. 'Yes! Worked like a charm.'

With subtle flick of her wand most of the lights in the library were extinguished until only a few candles remained burning.

"How about instead of dobbing me into Mrs Weasley and waiting for the explosion, you stay here and we can create our own entertainment?" Hermione's hear raced faster then could ever remember it beating. She'd faced Death Eaters and all manner of creatures that Hell had spat out, yet standing here, attempting to seduce Sirius Black was no doubt that most frightening moment of her life.

"What exactly are you saying Hermione?"

His fingers itched to be on her body, to feel the young supple flesh he hadn't felt in years. Mrs Weasley was fond of telling the girls that Sirius was the type of man to avoid. She no doubt thought his late nigh prowlings were spent seducing unsuspecting young woman, bedding them and then stealing off into the night.

But the truth of it was, after many years of being locked away or on the run, the only way he felt comfortable leaving the house was as Padfoot. After his official pardon he'd tried, he really had. However, he wasn't ready for regular interaction with society and the public wasn't ready to interact with him.

So now, with Hermione standing before him in her oversized pyjamas, his ever sense and nerve ending was buzzing with the prospect of having not just her, but any woman for the first time in over fifteen years.

He felt his calm cool exterior crumble as she reached up and placed a nervous kiss over his bottom lip. He could feel her whole body tremble in terrified anticipation, but he could smell her arousal too. It was a heady combination and it sent him reeling.
Hermione reached up to place another kiss, this time her lips landed squarely on his mouth.

Sirius could feel her continue to shake and belatedly realised that in all his planning he had forgot to factor in whether or not Hermione had ever actually been with a man.

Hermione lips were moving oh so sweetly against his and though his body eagerly responded, hungrily kissing her back, his mind kept telling him no.

She's a virgin! Do you really want to do this to her? Her body might be saying yes but that doesn't mean she's emotionally ready for this.

But she wants me,another part of his mind screamed. This isn't the first time she's been turned on by me.

Rape victims can become aroused, it doesn't mean they want to be raped.

Hermione felt Sirius' lips still against hers and he slowly pushed her away.

"Did – did I do something?" she asked, feeling rejected and stupid as the tears pooled in her eyes.

"No," Sirius croaked, his voiced hoarse from unsated passion and longing. "You are perfect."

Hermione took a step towards him but he held up his hands to stop her.

"Go to bed, Hermione."

"What? Why?"

"Just… just go to bed."

Hermione played with the corner of her flannel pyjama top, just realising that only three of the seven buttons were done up.

"I don't understand." She awkwardly gestured to the noticeable bulge in his pants. "I thought you wanted me."

Sirius laughed, frustrated.

"I do, believe me I do. I just don't want your first time to be an illicit late night blackmail. It should be special. You deserve that."

"Am I that obviously virginal?" Hermione blushed.

"No, I didn't even think of it until just now."

Hermione didn't know what to feel. She had been fully ready for Sirius to be her first, whether he knew it or not. But now he stood there, stoically telling her she deserved more; something special. And it made her want him even more.

"Then take me out," she suggested.

Sirius froze. No, taking her out definitely wasn't an option. Agoraphobia aside, Molly would have his balls if she knew what he was doing.

Seeing the panic set in his eyes, Hermione backtracked.

"Or you could make me dinner. You know, once the Weasley's were gone."

Now that the idea of being with Sirius was firmly rooted in her mind, she was determined to have him.

Sirius smirked, self-confidence returning at her persistence.

"I could do that. How about the first Saturday after they leave, I'll cook you dinner."

Hermione smiled, satisfied. "It's a date."

"Yeah," said Sirius in wonder. "It is."

Hermione placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before scurrying back to bed.

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