It was finally over. Hermione Granger leaned back in her chair on the dias. They had finally done it. She watched Harry with Sirius, Remus, Tonks and Teddy, a smile on her face. When Bellatrix had been captured and sent through the veil, everyone had been shocked that Sirius had come back out, looking exactly as he had when he fell through a year and a half previous. It was the day before Christmas, and it was more a gift than anything else could have been. Bellatrix's death had also undone whatever spell she'd cast on the Longbottoms, and Frank and Alice were lucid Christmas Morning. Her eyes drifted over to where she could see them, standing with Neville as he introduced them to Luna.

Silvery-grey eyes caught hers and she smiled, heading over to join Sirius and the others. Voldemort being gone, beheaded by Gryffindor's sword, and his name being cleared, had left Sirius feeling quite playful. He'd spent their entire term cleaning up Grimmauld Place, with the help of Dobby and Winky, who were only too happy to have something to do. He had also joined them in Hogsmeade every chance they'd had, which was quite frequently for Hermione as Head Girl.

As she walked, she caught sight of the Weasleys and shook her head slightly. Ron had turned away from Harry after the mess at the Department of Mysteries, and neither of them were willing to believe it was because of whatever those brains had done. Neville and Harry were best mates now, and Hermione couldn't be happier for her brother, because really, that's what Harry was, the brother of her heart.

Stepping into Sirius' embrace, she smiled at him, and then at the others. "Can we go home now?" she asked quietly. Grimmauld was home now. Hogwarts had seen too much. And her childhood home had been burnt to the ground, with her parents still inside, as one of the last strikes by the Death Eaters.

Sirus nodded. "Absolutely, Kitten," he said with a grin. The two had a playful, flirtatious relationship, but Hermione wanted more. The Marauder hadn't been opposed, since she'd turned seventeen at the start of her sixth year, but he asked her to hold off until she'd finished her N.E.W.T's. It would also give her time to think if it was really what she wanted, but she had no doubts.

Grimmauld was much lighter, now that the two elves had finished the cleanup and decoration. Pictures hung on the walls, the portrait of Walburga Black had been replaced by one of James and Lily Potter, in their wedding robes. It had been found in the Potter Family Vault, and it was something they all treasured. Even now, when all was dark and still, the house still felt light.

Hermione had her robe wrapped around her as she headed for the library. She knew Sirius was still awake, though she wasn't sure how. She'd heard Remus and Tonks head for their room after checking on Teddy, and she knew Harry was at Neville's, enjoying a visit with his godmother and her family.

Stepping inside, she looked over to her favorite chaise lounge, next to the fire. Sirius was leaning against the back, feet stretched out over the cushion. The glass in his hand held just a small amount of amber liquid, likely firewhiskey, and he looked relaxed. An impish smile curled her lip as she let her robe fall to the floor. She knew he heard her, but she wondered when he would look.

"Come to tell me you've changed your mind, Kitten?" he asked, still not looking at her.

"Why don't you look at me and see, Mutt?" she teased. Her cheeks turned pink as she heard his indrawn breath. She'd found one of her uniform skirts from first year. It still fit through the waist, but the length was nearly indecent. A button down from two years ago was open, tails just brushing her skirt. A sleeveless jumper from third year was over that, resting snug over her breasts but leaving her belly button exposed between the two sides of her open button down. The navel piercing she'd gotten on Boxing Day glinted in the fire and candlelight, a paw print with a single diamond in the center dangling against her skin. A Gryffindor tie hung loose around her neck as she smirked slightly and walked forward. She stopped at his side, watching his eyes trail over her exposed legs.

"You're trying to kill me," he accused in a husky voice. She laughed and straddled his lap, almost groaning at the feel of him growing beneath her core.

"No," she whispered. "I definitely want you alive." His hands reached up, tangling in her semi-tamed curls as he pulled her down to his lips. The kiss was demanding, needy, and everything she'd ever thought it could be. His fingers trailed over her neck and down her body, just brushing against the swells of her breasts before gripping her waist. He slid the sweater up and off, placing kisses along the skin exposed by her open shirt. Her fingers trailed over his tattoos, the black silk shirt he'd worn to the ceremony unbuttoned in a carelessly sexy display. The rest of her clothes soon followed her jumper, along with his shirt, until only the pair of dark jeans he wore separated them.

"Are you sure about this, 'Mione?" he murmured against her skin.

"Never more so," she murmured, cupping his cheek in her hand and shifting to look into his eyes. "Show me how it can be, Siri." He groaned and slid down her body, intent on kissing and tasting every inch of her skin. Settling between her thighs, he teased her, loving the soft sounds she made. A low groan escaped him as he tasted her core.

"You taste so sweet," he whispered against her skin. His tongue traced over her heated flesh until she writhed beneath him on the velvet chaise. "Let go for me, Kitten, I've got you," he murmured as she cried out his name, her body tensing and sweet nectar flooding his tongue.

"Please, Sirius," she whispered. "I need you." He slid up her body, kissing her, letting her taste her own essence on his tongue as he pressed his hard cock against her slick entrance. Her hips shifted restlessly as she tried to bring them together. And then he was sliding into her silken heat. A low groan escaped as he felt her forming to him. Pulling back, he thrust forward again, burying himself in her heat. A slight gasp was the only sign of her innocence.

"Shhh, I've got you, 'Mione," he murmured, his deep voice husky and rough. "You tell me when." She clutched him tighter, nails digging into his back before she moved her hips experimentally. His hiss of pleasure made her do it again and then he began to move. His fingers slid over the backs of her thighs, coaxing her legs to wrap around his waist as they found a rhythm that pushed them both until stars exploded behind their eyes and their names mingled in a breathy, raspy cry torn from each of their throats.

When his breath steadied, he pulled back to see her face, and he smiled softly. "I take it this is still what you want then, Kitten?" he asked, brushing a sweaty curl out of her eyes.

"More than anything. Except maybe you to take me to bed," she answered, earning a bark of laughter from him.