-1A note from Serade Black: The last chapter of the story, before the epilogue. I'm thrilled to end it (especially since it's been quite a time between the last chapter and this one), but sad to at the same time. Though I will be adding one more Author's note before the epilogue, I just wanted to answer a few questions regarding the story that I've had asked.

Why is Pollux Black on the wall and not Phineas? Because, as we know all the awards that Pollux received, I created him to be always on his best behavior regardless of what side his is on. So, with his sassy wit, I thought they'd allow him to remain on the wall for comic relief.

Why did she say in a previous chapter that "she would miss this…" when regarding the last dream she had when she saw the face of her husband? It was to merely throw you off the scent. I wasn't lying, it just depends on what context you read it. I tried very hard to be a diplomatic and vague with details as I could, so as not to totally allow something to bite me in the bud. I am sure I have plenty of inconsistencies already.

Sorry for the short chapter, but I needed to separate the epilogue from this last chapter.

SB

Chapter 37 - One Week Later

One Week Later

"Go, get your coat," said Sirius.

Hermione had just welcomed him home from being gone for most of the day. He had some business at the Ministry left to do, writing a painfully long report he'd put off all week regarding the warehouse raid. His first official piece of pencil pushing he had to do and by the dramatic faces he made regarding all the Quick Quotes Quills he went through, he was ready for a release.

She still held the dish rag in her hands from tidying up the kitchen, for when she heard the front door close; she immediately raced out to see Sirius waiting for her in foyer.

"What kind of surprise?" she hinted with flirting eyebrows. She had just returned from the kitchen to drop off her dish towel when she reached for her navy pea coat that hung on the coat rack.

Before she could touch it, Sirius grabbed her hand. "Wait, I forgot I got something for you," he said with a startled voice. He turned around on her and dashed up the stairs towards his bedroom.

Hermione glanced over at the old portrait of Sirius's grandfather, "Any idea what he's up to, Pollux?"

"With that boy? Hell, after what I heard he went through the other night, I was sure he wasn't coming home at all. I know he gets that sense of stupidity from his father, God rest him," Pollux went on. Concerned for only a minute, he shook his head and then went back to leaning against his portrait frame to resume his nap.

In a flash, Sirius was back flying down the stairs taking two at a time, you'd think he was running a race. His face reflected the grin of a child about to do something fun. Behind his back, he kept something hidden and when he was standing perfectly before her, he gave her what he'd bought her two weeks earlier.

Her face brightened and her hands clapped over her mouth, giving a slight squeal. It was rebellious, it was dirty, and it was just like his. Hermione reached for the smaller sized leather coat, complete with buckles, straps, zippers and a spike or two. It had to have been an exact copy of his, only more feminine fitting. The fresh leather filled her senses as she touched the soft texture and allowed Sirius to help her with it. Once it was zipped up, she hopped over to the mirror like a giddy school girl to check it out on herself.

Sirius smirked as he noticed her preening for him, turning left and right, checking out the way it fit her.

He was pleased that she took to it so well. A gentle twinge in his gut tickled him that he might have had something to do with her slight corruption into the motorcycle world. But, oh how she looked so alluring with her brown tendrils lying over that black leather.

"You know, my dad is going to be really jealous," she teased. She turned to walk back over to him, resting her hands around his waist. Her face was turned up to him, hoping for a kiss by offering a sweet gentle smile over her lips.

He grinned mischievously as she came in for a chaste kiss, "Well, he's got to earn it first." He savored the feather-like touch over his lips, filling him like warm lava. "I doubt he can do the same things you can with his tongue."

Hermione gave a repulsive cringe at the visual, jabbing him teasingly in the arm. With a hollow chuckle of satisfaction for horribly killing the mood, he swept her up to go towards the door. The cool air gave an initial blast when they first opened the old oak door of Grimmauld Place, indicating that Father Winter was going to remain stagnant for a bit longer. A slow stirring wind wrapped around them, keeping the warmth within their jackets. Hermione snuggled into hers, welcoming the hint of rebellion that lurked inside of her like a secret personality.

The two situated themselves on the motor bike; Hermione wrapping her arms tightly around the wizard she loved, ever so pleased he still remained on this side of the living. The very thought of him not being with her, not sharing the house with her, not riding this bike and returning the "I love you," she whispered as softly as a butterfly into his ear, just left a dull feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Sirius was just starting to rev up the magical machine, letting it vibrate violently, but smoothly between their legs. He'd heard her slight whisper into his ear that was light enough for barely her own mind to hear, and spoke back, "I love you, too." With his keen canine sense of hearing, he could still hear her over anything.

As the wind hit their cheeks, Sirius's long soft locks tickled Hermione's face as she rested her chin on his shoulder. She closed her eyes, welcoming the tender touch, imagining that they were back on Buckbeak; the first time they sat close. Her lips felt the bite of chill, her hair whipped around in the cool air behind her and she could hardly feel the road underneath her; the ride was so smooth. Like coming out of a dream, she opened her eyes into the darkness ahead of her.

"Sirius! You didn't warn me!" she yelled, looking at the ground so far under them.

Sirius had done it. His bike took to the air like a floating cloud, the engine roaring like usual, the tires still spinning from leaving the concrete below. He'd manage to hide them behind the clouds in the sky, weaving and bobbing around them as if they were oncoming traffic.

Hermione tightened her grip, fearful that she would so easily slide off. Her arms were tense, she was certain she was cutting off his circulation somehow.

His barking laugh filled the night skies and he glanced back at her as he watched the aerial road ahead of them, a destination in mind, "Relax, my love. You're well protected when you're with me."

Hermione hugged him tighter, her head tucked behind his back and afraid to breathe. She was concerned about their balance that one deep breath of hers, might throw them off. She quickly thought of them being someplace different, anywhere, still with him and not eight hundred feet in the air. Even through the cold, her palms were sweating as they clutched his leather jacket like he was a life preserver in the ocean.

Sirius took a hand off the handlebars, setting his flying motorbike steady, and rested it on top of hers, squeezing it affectionately. He never wanted to frighten her, but he wanted to share the experience with her. A memory he had locked up, preserved in youth, wanting desperately to rekindle a bit of fun he used to know. He muttered a spell under his breath, rubbing her arm gently, soothing her to relax just a bit more so that she could breath again.

"You'll get used to it," he comforted.

Immediately, he felt her arm begin to lax and her face started to emerge from behind him again. Her chin resumed its normal resting spot on his shoulder and she smiled to herself once she realized that he'd done something to make the ride easier for her. As her eyes refocused on the space before them, he again took the handlebars and started to guide them a little to the left, tilting the front of the bike down.

Passing a few clouds, the wind blowing her hair freely around her, a familiar landmark came into view. Its highest points blinking for oncoming aircraft, or flying motorbikes, indicating its height. The Tower Bridge got larger and larger as they neared it. Sirius was steady as he flew around the southern tower, his face stern and concentrated as he hovered his bike round and round. For a second, Hermione thought they were going to land on top of the viewing walkway, but Sirius was far more complicated than that. He managed to find a small balcony that was wide enough for him to land and take off from when they were ready to go.

As if he were controlling a feather, the motorbike landed softly on the ancient structure, roaring its engine for a gentle set down. Sirius managed to take one tight turn as he landed on the balcony, which overlooked the entire Thames, for an easy departure. Hermione released him, slowly getting off the motorbike and treading carefully on the age old brick that probably hadn't seen the soles of modern shoes in several hundred years.

Before them, they looked over the city, into the courtyard of the Tower of London and its surrounding touristy areas. She noticed the place where they had shared their first stroll along the Thames. She recalled how romantic it was that night. She also recalled how awkward it felt to desire holding his hand and be normal, instead of protecting others from seeing them.

It seemed like so much time had passed since they started together, but in actuality, it had only been a few months.

Sirius cleared his throat behind her as he came up to wrap his arms protectively around her. Though they were safe and he held no fear with flying his motorbike hundreds of feet in the air, the crumbling balcony and its railing did not give him the confidence he searched hard for. Already he felt like his heart was in his throat over their height, their intimacy and the overall future plans. As he held her tight against him she relaxed with a pleasant sigh that could almost render her in a dream state.

Below them, the dark chilling water rested calm without nautical interruptions. Small waves from the current down below made quiet splashing sounds against the ancient structure as modern autos zoomed over the paved bridge. In the distance, Big Ben struck it's ninth hour, announcing to the rest of London that it was time to start tucking in and getting their younglings to bed for the following day. The cold air nipped at their noses, but their close proximity kept the chill at bay.

Turning around under his protective hold, Hermione wanted to face her devilishly handsome wizard with nine lives and a slight smirk. Her head tipped back, admiring his features, her eyes flicking up and down over his face, his chin and up to his dark eyebrows. She leaned in to kiss his jaw, allowing the gentle scrape of his day's stubble to tickle her lips. He looked down at her; their dangerous height on the medieval balcony her background. She appeared to him like a royal princess and he tangled his fingers in her hair, imagining the soft tendrils to be spun with pure silk by the touch.

"My hands are cold," she whispered. A sly finger slid his jacket open in order for her to slide her cold hands around his toasty warm torso, when she felt something in his inner pocket. "What's this?"

Sirius didn't move a muscle, he didn't even object to her investigation. He hadn't planned it all out; he only got this far in his mind so if she instigated it any further, then he would go with the flow.

"What's hiding in here?" she asked as her sneaky hands felt down to the inside of his leather jacket pocket to pull out a small trinket box. "Is it another surprise?" she asked coy.

He pulled back a little to give her room to inspect the antique box she kept low between them for fear a slight wind may whisk the item in question away from them. Sirius felt his throat dry with the anticipation that she might understand the magnitude of the box she held so carefully in her hands. Feminine fingers slid over the ornate design, admiring the detail in the small velvet box. An ancient clasp kept its secret enclosed and she looked up with him with rather calm, but curious, eyes. She no longer had a hint of the smile over her lips, but a furrowed brow changing her expressions slowly.

Small wisps of hair being restrained by a clip started to fall to her sides as her head ducked down and Sirius strung a finger behind her ear so that he could watch her open the box. His heart rate picked up with dangerous speed and his hands shook slightly.

"Sirius, what's this?" she practically whispered with an unsure voice. It was almost hesitant.

Sirius said nothing. He remained silent, still and full of hope. His eyes were burning from the cold wrapping around them as they parted for the business. He found himself taking larger breaths to prepare him for anything as she finally started to fidget with the old clasp on the box.

Slowly, she looked up as her fingers worked it, looking up at him with unknown eyes and a sincere expression. Surely she didn't know, but with the way he noticed her chest beginning to rise and fall faster and faster, he was afraid she might become weak in the next few moments and gently pulled her away from the cement railing. She started to chew on her lower lip as each second felt like an eternity to both of them as she finally got the small box open.

Hermione's breath caught as her eyes set on a princess cut Amethyst and diamond ring in platinum. The lavish stone had to have been nearly 2 carats and at least two dozen diamonds around the filigree setting that appeared antique but still had a modern style to it as it sat about ¼ off the finger. Never in all her days had she seen something so lush, so elegant and so rich presented to her without any words. Her vocal chords had frozen up, her inner ear started to twinge with nerves and she had to force her eyes away from the glittering piece to look upon the man that gave it to her so freely.

Then, Sirius saw it. He saw the nervous look on her face, the timid body language, the soul searching and practical mind warming into admiration, desire and longing that it rendered Sirius speechless and weak. In the back of his mind he had a mild speech prepared, but when the time came, nothing seemed appropriate. Only the blowing breeze around them filled their ears for both their hearts were beating loudly into their minds. They stood alone together, no eyes on them, above the city of London, for all to see and they were quiet. Their breaths steaming from their mouths as both were taken aback around the ring like a beacon of devotion.

Then she blinked and he saw it. He saw it all.

Like they say one's life flashes before their eyes with the tease of death, Sirius saw the rest of his life laid out in the face of the young witch before him. He saw her twenty years from now, he saw their children, he saw her family welcoming him, he saw their friends congratulating them, he saw himself making love to her anytime he wanted and he saw her holding his hand by his death bed. Sirius was stripped of anything he could ever feel, leaving himself in a most vulnerable state, at her mercy. Her desire was his will. He would forever do whatever she said and because of that, he conceded.

Sirius said nothing, not a breath, not a cough, not a blink and knelt down on one knee. He surrendered.