Thirteen across, another word for a female kneazle.

Sirius thought to himself, sucking on the end of his quill and putting his feet up on the table, standing his chair on its two hind legs. A crash from near the door caused him to look up suddenly and his newspaper went flying as he lost his balance.

He rubbed his head and scowled at Harry, who stumbled into the room a few seconds later.

"Just because you've got a hangover, why do I have to suffer for it as well?"

"Oh shut up," Harry grumbled, holding his head and sitting down in the chair across from him.

"Think you can handle breakfast?"

Harry nodded slowly and Sirius abandoned his newspaper, fetching four eggs from the fridge. "Last night was great, wasn't it? We should have a house warming party every week!"

"I thought you said it was going to be a small party."

Sirius didn't take his head out of the fridge as he answered, "It was. Where's the milk?"

"Sirius, I only knew four people."

"What's your point?"

Harry sighed.

"Never mind." His head was still throbbing and he groaned.

Sirius, who had been pouring too much milk into the scrambled eggs, put down the carton and approached his godson. He put a hand on his forehead, frowning worriedly.

"Is it that bad?" Harry nodded.

"Why don't you go back to bed? I'll bring a tray up."

Harry shook his head, dislodging the hand, and stood up.

"It's okay. I'm meeting Hermione in a half hour anyway." He was about to leave when he felt Sirius's hand on his shoulder. He turned around and was hugged tightly by his godfather, who still towered over him.

"What was that for?" he asked as he was let go. Sirius twitched and didn't answer for a moment.

"Just because… Do I need a reason to hug you?"

After a goodbye, in which Sirius still seemed oddly quiet, Harry left, soon forgetting about the hug.

Hermione herself had only started her first job and didn't have very much income, staying in a flat about half the size of Harry and Sirius'. Neither mentioned this as they settled onto the small couch with tea in cups she had received from her mother after her parents' death.

Harry took a drink from his cup as she prattled on about Arithmancy and how fascinating work was. She finally stopped for a breath.

"You and Sirius were looking pretty cosy last night."

He nearly choked, burning his throat.

"Cosy? What do you mean?" he said feeling somewhat nervous about what she was going to say. She smiled, reaching out a hand and clasping his.

"I know, Harry."

"Know what?"

"It's perfectly normal. And you're of age, so technically he doesn't count as your guardian anymore."

"Does he know?" Harry blushed.

"I don't think so…"

"Sirius? Are you okay?"

Sirius, who seemed to be daydreaming, looked up at Remus. The werewolf gave a small smile.

"Is it Harry again?"

"Yeah."

"Does he know that you were sober last night?"

"No, though I don't think he remembers much of it anyway."

"How can he not remember? You told him that you love him."

"He was drunk."

"Ah."

"Well he had his arm around your shoulder pretty much the whole night."

"He did?" Harry looked somewhat hopeful. Hermione nodded at her friend's stunned look.

"Do you think he…" he trailed off, though Hermione knew what he meant.

"I'm not sure. But you'll never know if you don't try." Harry didn't answer and they went back to their tea.

"Hermione… how?"

Hermione smiled. She'd been hoping he'd ask.

"Well, if that didn't work, why don't you show him?"

"And you would you propose I do what?"

"I have a few ideas…"

Sirius saw the gleam in Remus' eyes.

"Why do I get this weird feeling that I'm not going to like these 'ideas'?" Sirius said somewhat woefully.

Written for last year's Secret Sirry Santa, but it never made it past the Moderator, so I'm finally putting it up here. This is just part one.

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