"Morning, sweetie," he whispered in her ear.

"Sirius," she mumbled in an even tone.

"Yes, love?"

"Please tell me it wasn't you who spiked the wine with love potion."

Sirius was in an all-together different abyss than the night before. The edges of his mind were as blurry a then, but from fire whiskey. Copious amounts of it. But he could still feel. Guilt, even though he hadn't known. Anger, but he didn't know who to aim his anger at. Worry over Hermione who had left his bed, and his house minutes after waking up. Images from the night before flashed through his befuddled brain, and he was back to guilt. He was painfully sober, despite the whiskey.

She became so distant as soon as you left the Ministry. In academic research mode, and you didn't stop to wonder how she could turn around in in seconds and be all over you?

But I wanted her to be all over me! And I had the wine as well. I was just as tricked as she was…

You were just a tiny notch hornier than before.

Yes.

Remus watched his friend in horror.

"Love potion?"

"Apparently."

"And you didn't…"

"Of course I didn't."

"No, I mean, you didn't realize that you were under the effect of a potion?"

Sirius remembered Remus telling him about the written curse he'd been under at the Ministry, but been able to recognize and cast off.

But you weren't alone with this perfect woman who had been kissing you all afternoon at a sham wedding reception.

"What about the scents?"

"The what?" Sirius asked and emptied the bottle in his glass. "There's more in the kitchen if you want some."

"It's a well-known fact that a love potion heightens your senses," his friend said in a dry, lecturing voice. "Especially the sense of smell."

Sirius looked at him exasperated.

"Are you, of all people, telling me, or asking me, or whatever you're doing, that? You are a wolf once a month, a werewolf. I'm a dog whenever I like. I was a dog for the better part of a year when I was on the run. You know what these transformations do to you. You know I can smell Tonks on you. And that pretty little secretary of yours, the one who always makes sure to touch you whenever she gives you a cup of tea or some papers."

Remus blushed briefly, but kept to the subject at hands.

"It's supposed to evoke pleasant scents, the most pleasant scents in each individual. Scents that aren't really there. Couldn't you feel that?"

Sirius glowered at his friend. He thought hard and tried to ignore the waves of lust that gripped him when he remembered Hermione changing from book nerd to seductress. Yes, he had felt the most intoxicating smells his mind could conjure. Her. Her scent of peaches, or was it apricot, of strong, bitter tea, of crispy linen and that sweet tinge that hit him when her hair bounced close to him.

"Yes, I could," he admitted quietly. "I could smell her."

"What was that?"

You haven't gone deaf, Remus, you just want me to suffer.

"I said, yes, I could, I could smell her. She smells… oh, so good. But the thing is, she did so before we came home as well."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. What do you mean 'oh'?"

Remus rose and left the room, only to return a minute later with a new bottle of Ogden's. He uncorked it and poured himself a glass. Sirius shoved his glass towards his friend. When Remus raised an eyebrow, he just glowered back, and his friend poured. Remus drank and looked at a point behind Sirius head.

"What is so interesting with the fire-place at the other side of my study, Remus?"

Still sober, still able to think. Fuck.

Remus finally watched him. He looked a little sad.

"I had no idea," he said finally.

"What's the 'oh' for then? You know, you can put a lot of meaning in that little syllable, and you just did. But I can't decipher it, so you'd better use a few more."

"I had no idea you would get emotionally involved. I hardly thought you could."

Sirius evaluated his friend's words. Hardly thought you could. Did he really give the impression of being so shallow?

"Could?"

Remus looked uneasy. They had never browsed the subject of Sirius emotional life before. Not like this. When Sirius had lived cooped up at Grimmauld Place during Harry's fifth year, they had joked about the playboy in house arrest, but left it at that. And even then, he hadn't been a playboy, a womanizer, or a heartthrob for fifteen years.

He'd been popular with the girls at Hogwarts. His well-known background in an aristocratic and admittedly manic pure blood family had made his sorting into Gryffindor an interesting, thrilling contrast. Remus had often felt bleak next to him.

During the last four years, after the end of the war, the playboy jokes had become rare. Like he'd told Remus some week earlier, his life was less that he had thought it would be, but he didn't mind. Hadn't minded. When Teddy was a baby and Remus rather stayed at home with Tonks than visiting his old Marauder friend, Sirius had made an effort to go out, to socialize, to search for… someone. He'd met an awful lot of 'someones.' Deep down he knew he was searching for a woman who could be to him what Lily had been to James. A friend whose place in his heart would grow and grow for each time he saw her. Talked to her. Touched her. Someone he knew, respected and admired. Not the kind of ladies he met when he went to a pub with the double purpose of getting drunk and getting laid. He stayed at home more, until he became a bit of a recluse.

Slowly he spoke about thoughts he hadn't had in over two decades and never shared with anyone.

"You may not believe it, but I can emotionally involved. Growing up here," he gestured around the room, "didn't make it easy to show deeper feelings of any kind, though. I learned how to hide them instead. And then, from I was twenty-one, life has never been in sync with me. I lost the searching-for-a-soulmate-years in Azkaban. After that I had two years of constant fear of being brought back there. Then I was gone for two more years, which were blissfully void of any feelings. And on my second return everyone was haggard by the war, and I was, in a way, no older than twenty-one, because that was the last time I lived in a time I could relate my age and my experience to. But, as I've said, I manage my life within the borders I've chosen."

He pushed away his glass, suddenly aware of its content's effect on his ability to think, rather than rage.

"And then, less than a week ago, you pulled me far out of my comfort zone, asking me to do something of importance for someone we both, the whole Order care for. I've never done anything of importance in my life. Except for leaving this home at sixteen. And see where life has brought me? Right back."

He laughed bitterly, almost on the verge of his mad, break-down laughter.

"No, no, Sirius. You are very important. You're Harry's godfather, my best friend, a governor at Hogwarts, a guard against the dark, hidden forces."

"But I've never done anything!" Sirius roared at his friend. "Nothing good. I convinced James to change Secret Keepers. I went after Peter and got all those muggles killed and, on top of that, let the rat get away. I found him twelve years later, meant to kill him, but instead made Harry and myself a prey for the Dementors. Harry saved me from the mess I've made when I decided to do something. Perhaps the only constructive thing I've ever did was to die, there in front of the veil, to quill Bellatrix' blood-thirst for a second, and give the rest of you a chance."

Suddenly unable to sit still, he pushed back his chair and paced.

"And now, you and Kingsley pleaded with me to do this thing. This compassionate, good-for-the-greater-good thing. And well, just the thought of getting in the way of Lestrange's, or any Death Eater's, plans would have made me do just about anything, and, yes, I really thought I could handle it. Handle it as an adult, a professional Order member. Someone old enough to keep his emotions in check, but I couldn't. You threw Hermione into my arms, begged for some kind of legal protection, which I'm happy to give to anyone in the Order, or anyone on the right side of evil, but she's a person, Remus. A real person, not a chess game where you play two pieces along each other for protection, willing to sacrifice one if needs be."

He paused, evaluated his own metaphor, realized it made no sense, and continued without any paraphrasing.

"I've spent more time with her than anyone else the last week, or even month, and she isn't the fifteen-year-old she was. The fifteen-year-old who acted as we predicted, hell I doubt she did that even then. She's a…

…terrified rape victim, he almost roared, feeling the bile rise at the thought of her quiet voice confiding in him.

"She's a what?" came Remus question in the quiet room.

"She's terrified, of course. Anyone in her right mind mentioned in connection with Lestrange should be. I was the one to cut that connection, and I promised her I wouldn't force myself on her."

"But you didn't, did you? If she had the potion as well, she'd…" Mercifully Remus didn't finish the sentence.

"No, I didn't. I don't think I did. The point is that I still can't grasp the fact of the love potion. I would have wanted her anyway. I still do."

They sat in silence for a while. Remus sipped his fire whiskey and went back to study the wall behind Sirius' head.

"And I have no idea where she is now."

"When did she leave?"

"Early. Eight-ish." He checked his watch. "It's twelve hour ago. She's not at your place, I take it?"

"No, no of course not. Tonks and I have spent the day at home, 'til you fooed me."

"The Burrow?"

"I doubt it. Molly came over to see Tonks earlier, and she would definitely have told us. We all agreed that you would stay here."

"I know," Sirius sighed. "I didn't exactly kick her out. She decided to leave."

They heard the entrance door open and quick steps on the floor.

"It's her," they said in unison.

"Get lost, go home, Remus. I'll talk to you later. Maybe tomorrow."

Remus took a handful of floo-powder, and Sirius headed towards the door. He saw Hermione walk into the kitchen, and followed her. When he entered, she stood with her back to him, busying herself with making tea. She wore a black cloak, even though it was a warm summer day.

"Hermione," he said from the door, trying to keep a concerned tone. No rage, worry, guilt or, most importantly, drunkenness.

She poured the boiling water into a teapot, and the scent of the bitter Assam tea she favoured reached his nose. Couldn't she drink flower-scented tea, like other girls? She turned around and put the pot on the table, then met his eyes. Her expression was a mixture of opposite feelings. Determination and doubt, confidence and insecurity. But no sadness. Sirius focused on the lack of sadness he'd been so aware of during the previous week.

"Sirius," she answered. "Tea?"

They sat down, opposite each other. He didn't know where to begin.

"I'm glad you're back."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Where have you been?"

"At work."

"At work?! It's… it's… it's summer vacation, and we're should be cooped up here in our sham honey moon. You're not supposed to sneak off to Hogwarts to do research, or whatever."

"I wasn't supposed to end up in your bed last night, either, in this sham wedding, so don't tell me what I'm supposed or not supposed to do," she snapped, and ruined his forced calm temper.

"I was worried!" he roared. "I missed you! I had no idea where you were or if you were coming back. I was beginning to think the last week was a dream, or a night mare, or whatever."

She remained unfazed.

"Yes, the perception of reality and fantasy often gets confused when you drink. You smell like a brewery."

He took a gulp of tea, and wished he'd been totally sober. She'd have the upper hand even then, but even more so now.

"Look, I'm really sorry about yesterday," he said in a low voice, "I promise you I had no idea. I'm not that desperate. I wish…"

She held up her hand to stop him.

"I believe you. Almost. But I'm confused, and suspicious. Maybe not towards you, at least not that much. Are you still keeping some parts of this wedding sham secret for me, Sirius?"

No. None other than I didn't realize for a minute, during or after, that I was love-potioned. You're just as beautiful and alluring now than last night. Don't pull those pins out of your hair, I can't think when you do that.

"No," he answered, a beat too slow.

"And because of that tiny hesitation, before your 'no,' I have a proposition for you." She opened her bag and took out two vials.

"Your brother's potion the other day was a Felix Felicis with a twist. This is a Veritaserum with a twist." She wiggled one of the vials.

Sirius shuddered and felt sweat brake out on his back.

"If you'll take it, you'll not only answer my direct questions, you'll also tell me all information you feel related to the subject of my question. Would you be willing to take this, Sirius?"

Keep sending me encouragement and feedback. I love it!

Love, Kia