When Hermione woke up, she was keenly aware that she wasn't in her bed. The dark grey sheets and walls covered in pictures was a dead giveaway; she was in Sirius's bedroom. And he was right next to her, shirtless and snoring. Hermione knew she'd had a lot to drink last night, but she didn't expect to wake up drunk too; after a few minutes of deep breathing, she was confident she was sober, but that couldn't explain how they ended up in bed together.

She kept going over the previous night, and she recalled a flirty, drunk, kiss in the kitchen, and then the two of them stumbling up the stairs. They'd disturbed Walburga, who had started screeching at the sight of Sirius shamelessly dragging Hermione to his bedroom. She remembered ending up in his bed but then could only remember falling asleep; she was still fully clothed sans her shoes, so she was sure he'd tucked her in and then passed out beside her.

"Hm, not just a lecherous womanizer but also a gentleman," Hermione thought to herself with a little satisfied smirk.

"What're you smiling at, Kitten," She heard his delicious voice mutter from beside her, startling her a bit.

"I thought you were asleep," She replied, not answering his question.

"Whenever there is a gorgeous witch awake in my bed, I can't sleep, call it a sixth sense." Sirius teased, propping himself up on his hand to look down at her.

"I'm sorry I mauled you last night," Hermione chuckled, very embarrassed at how forward she'd been now that she was sober.

"No apologies necessary love, I egged you on," He smirked in response, "Has anyone ever told you that you're bloody gorgeous when you're angry?"

"I'm surprised your mother didn't magically manifest herself out of that portrait last night, I've never seen her so angry," Hermione mentioned, trying again to sidestep his flirtatious comments. Though she knew that he saw her cheeks turn bright red at his teasing.

"She always was a horrendous prude," Sirius told her, his eyes turning serious for a mere moment before that playful glint returned.

"Now darling, would you like to elaborate on that crush of yours we were discussing last night? It was an utterly riveting conversation." He said as he slowly moved closer to her on the bed, Hermione thought her heart might beat right out of her chest.

"Well, I-" Hermione started, but her mouth went dry at the thought of telling him about just how long she'd wanted to kiss him. It was embarrassing.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, I am quite a catch," Sirius told her, the self-satisfied look on his face made her want to smack him and laugh at the same time.

"Sirius," She replied, almost sadly. She wouldn't have taken the drunken initiative if she knew he was going to tease her the next morning. Hermione had been nursing this crush for years, and hearing him poke fun at it made her chest hurt.

"I'm not making fun of you, love; I'm happy you kissed me last night." Sirius said, his gaze turning concerned, "As long as your happy you did." He quickly added.

"I am, I'd wanted to do it for a while. But now I'm not quite sure what to do." Hermione confessed, pulling the blanket on his bed almost up to her chin. She felt so insecure that she was wanted to pull the blanket over her head and hide from him.

"How about we spend the day together?" Sirius asked, lowering himself to look into her eyes.

"Are you sure you want to?" She replied almost too quickly; she couldn't believe that he wanted to be around her outside of the context of her being Harry's best friend.

"Kitten, of course, I do. You're so smart it's almost scary, and you're an absolute firecracker. I'd be honored to spend the day with you." Sirius told her, the look in his eyes almost incredulous that she didn't understand how much he enjoyed her company.

"Well, what should we do then?" Hermione asked, instantly regretting it when she saw the devious smile that appeared on his face.

"Have you ever ridden a motorbike, Kitten?"