Good things come to those who wait...

Kia

Sirius dove into Regulus' wardrobe and pulled out the first shirt he found. It turned out to be an old traditional white linen shirt with very wide arms, ending with lacy cuffs. He didn't bother with the matching neck-cloth or cravat he suspected should go with it. No time. On Regulus' desk, he found the signet ring his brother used to wear and pushed it onto his fifth finger of his right hand. Wetting his left ring finger, he pulled off his wedding band and put it in his pocket.

Oh, fuck! Here comes Lord Black. Can I be him without the Felix potion? I have to. What do they want? Shit, I've more of less invited them. Hermione isn't here. She mustn't come home tonight.

The doorbell rang its sombre tone, and Sirius rushed down the stairs. The newly cleaned hall seemed to assure him that the House of Black was ready to do its duty in a representative manner. He stopped a yard before his mother's curtained portrait.

Is it worth the risk? Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur, Toujours Pur…

Hermione's smiling face came to mind and he uttered under his breath, more sincerely:

"Toujours Pur," and withdrew the curtains around his mother's portrait.

"Good evening, mother. It seems we have guests tonight." He passed her and grabbed the doorknob.

"Lucius, Narcissa! What a surprise. Oh, I'm glad you've found your way here once more. Do come in."

The Malfoys seemed somewhat overtaken by his hearty welcome.

Am I overdoing it? Can't think about that now. I'm alone with Black, without Felix, I just have to improvise. And Black would be happily surprised, wouldn't he?

"Mother, dear. Narcissa and Lucius are here."

As in a dream he saw the improbable Malfoys exchanging improbable pleasantries with his mother's portrait, before they moved further into the house.

"Let me take your coats," he offered. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Yes, please," his cousin answered looking around.

As far as Sirius knew Narcissa hadn't visited the house for almost thirty years.

"Oh, look," she continued. "The family dining room. That is the loveliest room in the house, don't you think?"

I've never even thought about using it before today, but if you say so Cissy.

His cousin went into the room he'd pictured he'd lead Hermione into earlier, Lucius following her. Sirius poured drinks and asked them to sit.

"We were just passing, and I said to Narcissa that we should make a short visit. It seems we're interrupting your dinner, perhaps we should…"

"Nonsense," Sirius said. "What are your plans for tonight?"

"Nothing really," his cousin answered. "We've been to see Rudolphus, but he made it pretty clear he wanted to be alone. We were just heading home."

"Then why don't you stay and have dinner?"

"Oh, we couldn't," Lucius protested.

"Of course, you can," Sirius (or was it the real Lord Black?) said. "Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to have family here for dinner. I'm dining alone otherwise."

"All right, if you are sure," Lucius beamed.

Sirius magically laid the table for two more, and went into the kitchen.

"Kreacher!" he whispered.

The elf stood in front of him in an instant.

"Hush!" Sirius whispered. "Talk really low! Have they found the missing kids?"

"Yes, Master Black, they have. And Mrs Black is sleeping. She'll come home after breakfast tomorrow."

"Good. Now, you need to help me."

"Of course, Master Black."

"I have guests in the small dining room. You might have seen them many years ago. I want you to serve us dinner as gracefully as you did when my mother was alive. But here, get a pair of clean tea towels on first."

"Of course, Master Black."

"I'll just run down to the cellar and pick out some wine, then I leave the serving to you, Kreacher."

"Kreacher lives to serve the Noble and Most Ancient…"

"Yes, I know. Thank you."

Sirius sincere gratitude brought tears to the old elf's eyes, and Sirius fled down the cellar stairs to spare them both the embarrassment.

Sirius raised his half emptied glass in a toast.

"To the most beautiful grandmother in the family, Narcissa."

Narcissa smiled almost sweetly and watched her husband and her cousin drink. Sirius had somehow kept the conversation running during the meal. Cold talk, gossip, politics. Now, when Kreacher had taken away the last plates, and they were left with only the glasses and wine, the distance he'd held vanished and he felt terrified of Lucius having a hidden plan for their visit.

Yeah, of course he'd check if Lord Black is real, not only a Sunday evening-thing. What if Hermione had been home when they arrived? I guess I wouldn't have answered the door.

"Draco's son is beautiful, Sirius. Doesn't make a fuss, a real blessing," Narcissa said in that tone women had when they spoke about babies. Intimate in a way that gave Sirius shivers of something unpleasant. As if he was supposed to really care, but couldn't.

"What have they called him?" Sirius asked distractedly.

Both Narcissa and Lucius hesitated, which caught Sirius attention and suspicion.

"What?" he pressed on with a laugh. "Can't they decide?"

Lucius started to answer.

"We've decided to call the boy Phineas, after Narcissa's and your ancestor."

Figured. Creep. Wait, why 'we have decided'? Surely Lucius and Narcissa aren't involved in the boy's name.

"Old Phineas Nigellus will be so proud. I haven't seen him around in his portrait recently, but I'll give him the news," Sirius smiled. "Is Draco happy?"

The Malfoys gave each other a quick glance before Narcissa answered.

"Yes. Draco is very happy about little Phineas. Now, I think we've intruded on your hospitality far too long. We need to head home. I'm so glad to have you back Sirius. Back in the family. Please come and visit us. We'll be in London for a few more weeks. Come on, Lucius."

In less than five minutes 12 Grimmauld Place was, once again, blissfully quiet.

I've never seen anyone leave so quickly. What happened? Did I say something that… I was afraid they would be personal, ask me questions about my life, marriage, the Wizengamot seat perhaps, and I turned around and asked them instead. About the now pure-blood baby Malfoy. And they went all weird. Weirder than ususal.

"But you behaved all right, your Lordship," Sirius said out loud in the empty room.

So did you, Sirius. I hardly noticed you were here.

Sirius winced at the voice in his head. The voice of his father? The voice of Lord Black? Definitely not the voice of reason.

"No. Stop. Get out."

You invited me, Sirius. You wanted me here. You want to be me, rather than yourself. Quite understandable.

Sirius stood up quickly. His chair fell over behind him. Kreacher was at his side in seconds.

"Have Mr and Mrs Malfoy left, Master Black?"

"Yes, Kreacher. They left. Thank you for your services. Can you go back to Hogwarts and make sure Mrs Black comes here first thing tomorrow?"

"Yes, Master Black. Kreacher thinks Mr and Mrs Malfoy coming here is like the old days of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

I taught him well, didn't I, Sirius?

"I know you do, Kreacher. I don't think it will happen again, but we'll never know."

"The Malfoy family is always welcome in the House of Black," the elf croaked, and part of Sirius wanted to grab him by the neck and threw him across the room.

"Yes, Kreacher. Now off you go."

Sirius exhaled slowly in the sudden silence after Kreacher had disappeared.

Didn't I?

"You did nothing! You don't even exist. Bugger off!"

But I'm right here. In my house. Mind your tone, young man.

Sirius raked his fingers through his hair. It WAS the voice of his father. He had resurrected his father in his impersonation of Lord Black, and tonight, disappointed, under stress, without the good luck potion his father, the image of any Lord Black, except Sirius himself, went berserk in his mind.

He slammed the door to the small dining room, went into the library and headed straight to the liquor cabinet. Trying to ban his alter ego from his mind, he poured a whiskey glass to the rim.

Oh, going all pro mudblood with Ogden's, are we?

"Leave. Me. Alone."

Not a chance. This whiskey is quite nice.

He heard his name being called. He opened his eyes in the semi-darkness of the room, and the calling stopped. He had recognised the voice though, but since she obviously had been a figment of his dreams he closed his eyes again.

Hermione.

"Sirius, where are you?"

It IS her! Here? Where? Where am I?

Ungracefully he felt whatever he was resting on slip away and the floor come up and catch him. Really hard.

Ouch! Fuck! Oh, my head will explode.

He tried his voice. Pathetically hoarse and weak he tried to answer.

"Here. I think…"

The light that flooded the room when the door was opened made him fear, but not really care, that his eyesight would be permanently damaged.

"Sirius, what…"

"Shhh… Not so loud. Please."

He closed his eyes again and felt the small vibrations in the floor bringing her closer. Bringing her to him. The touch of her hands made him wide awake, and in double hangover pain.

"Why this drinking binge, Sirius? I could have come home tonight, if you'd really wanted me to."

"Oh, I did, believe me. But I'm glad you didn't. Yesterday evening was quite something, ending with me trying to drink Lord Black under the table."

He moaned against her shoulder, feeling sick at the mere thought of drinking alcohol.

"Drinking Lord Black under the table? What are you talking about?"

"I think I won," Sirius slurred, desperate to go back to sleep and avoid the pain in his head and the seasickness of the swaying room.

"I've missed you for almost a week, and when I finally get home, you are more or less drunk and totally incomprehensible. Can you please take a sober-up potion if I get you one?"

"Mhm. But don't leave. I missed you too. Please stay here and let me sleep." The room darkened and Sirius knew he'd slid into slumber if Hermione would just be quiet and sit still.

"On this dusty floor? I don't think so, darling."

Quite roughly she rose and left him. Brimming with self-pity, Sirius sat up with his back to the couch and rested his forehead against his knees. In what felt like seconds, Hermione was back, a healing scent mingled with her own.

"Drink up, love. I won't even try and talk to you before you've downed this."

Hesitantly Sirius took the proffered glass, wondering if his hangover body would tolerate anything. It did, and like all quick potions, the Felix Felicis, his brother's anxiety potion, Hermione's twisted Veritaserum, it changed everything in seconds. His mind grew focused and painless, his eyes no longer sensitive to light, nor his ears sensitive to sounds. The embarrassment of having too much to drink, and not really handling it well remained though. Sheepishly he faced Hermione, who sat on the coffee table. He looked up into her eyes, expecting some reproaching, but she was the exact copy of his minds picture of her. Concerned, slightly smiling, loving.

Roughly Sirius pulled her from the table and to his chest.

"You are here. Oh, I missed you so much." He inhaled. "You smell so good." He kissed her. "You taste so good." He let his hands roam her body, feeling her being slightly less skinny than a week earlier. "You feel so good. Sweetie, I'm sorry I was a wreck when you came. You see, yesterday was really weird. When I got your note…"

Hermione placed her fingers against his lips.

"I've missed you too. I don't want to know about yesterday right now. I want you. I'll go mad if I have to be this close to you and just listen to you."

She captured his lips with hers and took command of the situation. Straddling him on the floor in front of the couch, she slid her hands under his shirt. Sirius shivered under her touch, tilting his head back and groaned when she aggressively left a row of love bites at the side of his neck.

"What are you wearing?" she muttered under her breath. "Where are the buttons?"

Chuckling Sirius sat up and drew the wide shirt over his head. When he met her gaze again, her eyes were dark and almost transfixed.

You are looking at me like that. How come I have the sexiest witch alive on my lap, looking at me as if I'm dessert?

She leaned in, but Sirius stopped her.

"You are far too overdressed."

Slowly he peeled her scarf off her neck and pushed her jacket down her arms. A cloud of peachy scent invaded his mind and he just had to double the experience by slowly kissing her jaw and down her neck.

"You feel amazing. I mustn't bite you."

Slowly he grazed his fingers down her neckline, feeling her shiver at his touch, inching herself higher on his thighs, dropping her head back and surrender to whatever he wanted to do to her.

Someone had once said to him that men can't do two things at once, and for some reason he remembered that now, and disputed its truth. Despite being painfully turned on, and having his lips magnetically drawn to Hermione's skin, he skilfully unbuttoned the row of buttons in her blouse, without ripping out a single one.

"Upstairs?" he mumbled, hazily aware that he'd asked her that before, months earlier in this very room, the very first time he'd made love to her. And just like that time, she amazed him and made him crave her even more.

"No. Here. Now. The couch," she panted and went for his belt with quick and eager fingers.

They rose and ripped off their remaining clothes before tumbling down onto the couch Sirius had drunk himself into oblivion and unconsciousness the night before. Among the blur of love and lust and tenderness and fulfilled longing, he felt a bang of fairness at having Hermione naked and willing and panting for him at the same spot he'd almost lost his mind hours before. He caught glimpses of her naked body, her breasts fuller, her nipples darker, her collarbones less protruding. He held himself over her, gazing down in her flushed face, at her swollen lips, her wild hair that had been pinned up minutes before and her lust filled, black eyes.

I want you so much. Now at once, but I want you to moan in pleasure.

He lowered his head to her breast and sucked her nipple into his mouth.

And I'll be gentle. I must.

Her breath hitched, and she arched up to meet his lips and tongue.

"Harder," she whispered, and he wasn't stupid enough to question her changed wishes. "Touch me," she breathed and he let his hand wander down her stomach, pausing for just a second to evaluate whether it was fuller than a week before. He couldn't decide, and when she bucked her hips he complied her wishes with his fingers. He pushed a long finger inside her, felt her folds soaking wet and he wanted nothing else than taste her, but when he carefully bit down on her nipple her muscles contracted around his fingers. She threw her head back and hissed while he prolonged her pleasure with his fingers, watching her flushed face in awe.

She sobbed when her body shivered one last time from her rushed climax. Sirius kissed her softly on the lips.

I can't believe I can give you so much pleasure. And I'm not done yet. You'll be a ragdoll before I'll let you out of my hands.

"Sorry," she whispered. "I just couldn't hold back. I've missed you so. I've had such dreams about you all week, waking up all wet and unsatisfied."

"Don't be sorry. You are my wet dream come true. Am I crushing you?"

"No, I'm fine. I love your weight on me. Keeps me where I want to be."

Is it even possible to sting words together when I'm as turned on as now? Let's try, this is an opportunity too good to miss.

"Tell me," he growled in her ear, "what do you do when you wake up all wet having dreamt about me?"

Hermione blushed a charming shade of pink and shook her head.

"Well, show me then, love." His mouth was as dry as sand when he saw her pupils dilate again. "Let's say you've just woken up from a dream where I've just sucked you to an earthquake, and you wake up with only the memory of it, knowing it was only in your mind it happened." Slowly he lifted himself off her, prepared to back down from the challenge the second he saw her grow uncomfortable.

He wrapped his hands around her ankles, pushing her knees to bend and spread. Hesitantly she pulled her hand down and began stroking herself, mumbling his name, and he'd thought he'd come by the mere sight of her.

"Enough," he growled, took her hand and held himself over her again. "I need you now. I can't wait."

"No, wait," she countered. "Sit up. This is what I dreamt. Like the first time. Right here."

She straddled him and wasted no time in taking him inside her.

"I dreamt of this. Of you filling me, and your hands on my hips setting the pace, and your lips on my breasts."

Without even thinking, Sirius followed the script to her dream. I was really his dream too, but looking into his beautiful wife's eyes while he trusted inside her was more than his sleeping mind could invent. His wet and painfully arousing dreams were always about how he felt, how well his mind remembered the feeling of how tight she felt around him. Awake, looking, listening and smelling her the pleasure doubled by experiencing her pleasure as well.

He pried away her fingers with his and pinched her bud of nerves.

I can control you with my fingers. I can just…

But he couldn't. She clenched around him and he lost control of both his own and her climax.

I'll might write faster if you encourage me somewhat... Go all in, all flattery...