"Honestly, I can't say with full certainty that a dinosaur park isn't appealing. I could accomplish so many goals with a personal dinosaur."
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated expression. "You just watched utter chaos and destruction from that exact scenario. People died, violently. Why would you ever support a dinosaur park?"
"I could do it better," Sirius insisted as he filled his plate high with a full English and snagged a mug. "It was the execution that was flawed, not the concept. It wouldn't even have to be a park. It could just be in an enclosure of my home, like the Malfoys and their peacocks. I'd have dinosaurs."
"I'd like a dinosaur," Tonks interrupted, dropping a serviette on her lap as she dipped her spoon into her parfait. Her hair was a vibrant shade of purple this morning, matching Teddy's. "Definitely in the stegosauridae family."
Sirius momentarily stopped stirring sugar into the coffee to look up at Tonks. "Thank you! Finally, someone in this family who understands me. Your charm and wit is wasted on Moony."
"We are not having dinosaurs in the flat, unless you're moving out," Hermione announced, accepting the freshly prepared mug of coffee from Sirius with a smile.
As he took the seat next to her, he whined, "But the Malfoys—"
"I don't care what the Malfoys have, you're not having a free roaming field of dinosaurs." Hermione gave him a look as she took a tentative sip of the beverage. It was sweetened with the perfect balance of milk and sugar. "Oh, this is quite lovely," she announced, pleasantly surprised. "You remembered how I take my coffee."
Sirius gave her a playful wink. "You're welcome, Starling."
"Why did you call her that?" Harry paused, looking up and taking a break from convincing Teddy to eat scrambled eggs.
"I'm both a star and a darling. He just couldn't pick. Can you blame him?" Hermione shrugged nonchalantly. "Had to go and create an entirely new word just to encompass me, hence Starling."
"That's not even slightly true," Sirius rebuked, tipping his head up in mock snobbery. "I had to fight off a group of thugs in masks in a dark alley after she was caught running an underground fighting ring of starlings. It was brutal." He let out a heavy sigh, dropping his gaze to his lap. "So many lives lost."
"That is in no way accurate. It's actually an acronym," Hermione supplied with a swing of her fork.
"Yes! Absolutely," Sirius proclaimed, dropping his knife with a clatter. "It stands for sassy, teasing, antagonistic—"
"Sweet, talented, alluring—" She fluttered her lashes innocently.
"—ruthless, logical, impossible"
Hermione scowled, adding to her own list, "—radiant, loveable, intelligent—"
"—naughty—"
James' brows arched.
"—nice, genuine."
She looked to Sirius while he was thinking of his last word.
He reluctantly finished after several beats of silence. "...girl."
Hermione bit back a laugh.
"Stop, it's a lot harder than it sounds! Be glad I didn't go with ghoul," he grumbled defensively.
"Did someone spike their pumpkin juice?" Ginny asked as she picked pieces of egg out of Harry's hair. "Because whatever it is, I want some."
Hermione's fork drifted over to Sirius' plate and she speared a sausage. Sirius snagged a rasher of bacon from her plate in retaliation, giving her a cheeky wink as he took a bite and offered to feed her the rest.
Remus cleared his throat in a non-subtle manner.
"So, Padfoot, I'm leaving work early tomorrow so we can go down to Gringotts and transfer the rest of the remaining assets we inherited upon your not-death," James announced, clumsily diverting the conversation.
"Hm. Forgot I was rich," Sirius mused. "I wouldn't have blamed you if you'd spent it after the first decade."
James passed a bowl of blueberries to Lily. "Despite the temptation, we didn't touch a single sickle except to fulfill your last wishes."
Muttering under his breath, Remus added, "Can't believe we had to go through that and you weren't even dead."
"Is it just me or does he sound a little too upset about the not-dead part?" Ginny snickered to Harry from behind her hand.
"I don't like eggs," Teddy whined to no one in particular. While Remus and Tonks were distracted, Harry slipped him a chocolate muffin.
"You don't know what we went through," James replied, a look of residual trauma in his eyes. "We wouldn't have done it for anyone else."
"And what did you do?" Ginny asked, leaning forward in suspense. "What was Sirius' last wish?"
Remus put his head in his hands and dipped his shoulders. "We killed Walburga Black."
Ginny sobered and gasped, "Shite, really?"
Sirius scoffed. "Don't be dramatic, you didn't kill her." As he took a bite of toast, he rolled his eyes. "That was, however, the unspoken yet implied second half of the request. Which you didn't do."
"She died less than a year later!" James flipped his hands out as if proving his point.
"Coincidence." Sirius shrugged it off. "Just pure coincidence."
Hermione watched the conversation, her head turning back and forth as if watching a tennis match, completely forgetting about her half-eaten plate of food. "What did you do that may or may not have allegedly caused the death of Walburga Black?"
Sirius' lips spread into a proud grin, and he reached out to set a hand on Remus' shoulder, who was still avoiding eye contact. "They took some family gold from my trust and paid the Daily Prophet a hefty sum to run a front page spread on my mother."
Her eyes shifted between the three Marauders. "Sirius, what did the paper say?"
James tilted his head, his eyes drifting up to the ceiling in recollection. "If I remember correctly, it reported tracing a large donation from her to a Muggleborn Integration Charity and the quote I have lived my entire life with the secret of my ancestry buried deep in our history." Sirius cackled hysterically in the background as he continued, "Today, I come forth to declare that I am proudly claiming my Muggle ancestors. They were simple people, worked on a farm and built a life for themselves without magic. I strive to be more like them.' End quote."
By the time James finished his monologue, Sirius was wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. "I wish I hadn't been fake dead so I could've seen the look on the old hag's face."
"Oh, I saw it." James shook his head, the ghost of his horror still etched into the lines of his forehead. "It was traumatizing. Do you know how many Galleons I had to pay that poor intern to deal with her? I bought him his house in full with that hush money."
"Absolutely worth it." With a satisfied sigh, Sirius leaned back in his seat.
"It's on a lake," James added.
Turning to Harry, Ginny asked, "If I fake die, will you take revenge on my enemies?"
His eyes widened with a mixture of awe and panic. "Which enemies?"
She frowned in displeasure.
"I mean, yes," he amended. "They will rue the day they crossed you."
Giving Harry a loving smile and a pat on the head, Ginny replied, "Thank you, dear. I have a list prepared in my nightstand should the need arise."
Interrupting their moment, Sirius caught Ginny's attention. "I like you. Don't put me on the list, please."
"Just watch yourself and you have nothing to worry about," she hummed under her breath, slicing into her waffle with her fork and knife. "The list is reserved for people who seriously wrong me, like Colin Creevey or that Mandrake that bit me in second year."
"What did Colin do?"
Ginny's eyes snapped to Harry. "Phase one has already been handled. I'll let you know if the day comes for phase two."
Turning to Hermione, Sirius whispered, "I like her. Can we have them over?"
Hermione pursed her lips and raised her brows thoughtfully. "Why are you asking me?" she asked before turning to face her friends. "Harry, Ginny, do you want to come to the flat to watch a film with us in a few weeks?"
"Uh, did we catch Peter practice snogging a pillow with a wig and lipstick in third year?" Sirius paused, but no one answered his question. "Of course they want to come to our film night." Nodding to Ginny, he said, "Tell her."
"Did you really find—"
"We are in for film night," Ginny answered with a knowing look to Hermione. "It's a date."
Remus inhaled part of his pumpkin juice and let out a wheezing gasp.
"Just a turn of phrase," Ginny explained with a smug grin. "I promise not to make any untoward advances with Hermione at the end of the night."
Following brunch with the Potters, Hermione lounged in the oversized armchair in her living room, her legs slung over the side and her temple tilted against the headrest with Sirius' pullover wrapped around her. Sirius had never asked her to return it, and truthfully, she wasn't all too interested in giving it back. It was somehow more comfortable than anything she owned, and she took to wearing it around the flat on the weekends.
Peeking up over the top of her novel, Hermione tried not to laugh at the sight in front of her.
Sirius was sprawled out on the floor of their living room, surrounded by sketches and crumpled parchment. As he bent over and carefully traced a line across his design, his hair fell over his eyes. She couldn't help but watch as his lips moved almost imperceptibly while he worked.
Silver eyes met hers and she immediately looked back to her page, embarrassed to have been caught staring. After a beat, she still felt his gaze on her and she looked back up. He had a smudge of ink brushed on the curve of his jaw.
"How is Miss Austen on this fine Sunday afternoon?" Sirius asked, looking at the novel in her hands as he shifted to rest his back on the base of the sofa and leaned away from his work.
She gnawed on her lower lip, snagging a line from the long forgotten page in front of her. "To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love."
"Still at the start, I see," he murmured, carefully selecting his latest sketch and handing it to her. "What do you think of this one?"
Skimming the drawing, she was impressed by his attention to detail with each component of the motorbike. "I think it's perfect." Her eyes caught on the engraving detail at the front, 'S'. "But I said that about the last dozen bikes. You're far too picky for your own good."
He dismissed her comment. "It has to be better than perfect. I'll know it when I see it."
"I think you've been inside too long, and now you're just searching for things to complain about." Hermione passed the parchment back to him. "Let's go out. I have to pick up more treats for Hazel. She's getting chubby from all the sausages and I'm concerned that if she gains any more weight, she won't be able to take flight."
An offended hoot came from the windowsill.
"We could look for open buildings for your future shop," she added, tucking a bookmark between the pages and setting the closed book on the end table.
His ears perked up. "Really?"
"Really really." As she stood, she grinned and slipped his pullover over her head. After she laid it on the arm of the chair, she turned back to Sirius and noticed his eyes on her. "What?" she laughed, offering him her hand.
He took it and hoisted himself up. "Nothing," he replied with a grin. "Just thinking about my future shop."
Together, they stepped over the scattered mess of drawings and into the fireplace.
"Diagon Alley."
The moment they appeared on the other side of the Floo, Sirius pulled Hermione around the corner into the nearest alleyway.
"Sirius, what are you—"
He hushed her and tugged her hand again, guiding her behind an old statue. She tried to focus on the details of the statue and not Sirius' body flush against hers as they hid. The monument appeared faded from time — it was a witch with crows settled on her shoulders, her left hand broken off — and a collection of moss grew at the base.
The rise and fall of his chest against hers became more and more distracting; his head tilted forward as if checking for something. She whispered, "What are we doing?"
A group of people passed by the opening of the alley and, in lieu of a response, he tapped the beak of the crow over her right shoulder. The stone wall behind them creaked and then revealed a narrow passageway.
"It's our own private passage," Sirius explained, ducking into the entrance. "These tunnels lead all around Diagon Alley to the back entrances of the shops. Best way to shop without being spotted."
"Why would you need to shop without being spotted?" she asked, a smile pulling at her lips.
She crawled into the passageway. After the first few feet, the ceiling raised and the tunnel was tall enough to stand in. It was made of stone and reminded Hermione of the secret passageways around Hogwarts that Harry showed her using the Marauder's Map that Remus gave them during their third year.
Though he was walking in front of her, she could still hear the grin in his voice as he replied, "I don't know if you were aware, but I was a tad into mischief as a teenager."
She snorted. "Mischief managed, right?" Sirius stopped abruptly, causing her to miss a step and run into his back. "Ow!"
"Sorry," he apologised. "Wasn't aware you knew about the map. Makes sense though, that they'd pass it on. Nearly got nicked by Filch our last year but Remus hid it in his trousers at the last moment."
Hermione stuck her tongue out. "Gross. I hope they Scourgified it before giving it to Harry."
"Did you lot carry on the legacy then?" He turned left when the tunnels split.
Knowing he couldn't see it, she shrugged. "We got good use of it, I suppose. A few trips to Hogsmeade through the tunnels for sweets, some for adventures when we were bored. I put a stop to them when I was Head Girl, though. Harry was almost caught one year when he tried to sneak a girl who caught his fancy out to the Shrieking Shack for a snog. I gave him an earful after that one!"
Sirius stopped in front of a cellar door and turned back to Hermione with a proud grin. "That's my godson. Did it work?"
"Are you asking if Harry and Cho snogged in the Shrieking Shack in fifth year?"
"Yes."
With a noise between a laugh and a scoff, she said, "Yes, they did. I was quite cross with him afterwards! It was irresponsible at best."
Wiping away a nonexistent tear, he sniffled, "I am so proud."
"Don't bring up Cho around Ginny or you'll make her revenge list," Hermione warned with a wag of her finger. "That witch will Bat-Bogey Hex you until you bleed."
"Noted."
Sliding the latch open, he gave a hard yank at the heavy door and held it open for her to step through. "Eeylops Owl Emporium," he announced as if declaring a royal name to an audience. "Ladies first."
Hermione slipped through the opening and Sirius followed quickly, closing and locking the door behind them.
She climbed the ladder out of the basement and onto the shop floor.
"That was far too dramatic for a simple shopping trip," she complained, dusting off her jeans with a glare. "What was wrong with the front door?"
"Nostalgia," he replied, tracing the border of the shelving with his index finger as he continued down the aisle. "It's been over twenty years since I've been in those tunnels. They missed me."
Selecting a package of treats from the shelf in front of her, she gave Sirius a look of skepticism.
"That and I'm not all too eager to announce my not-deadness to the world yet."
"There it is," she teased, turning back to the shelf and retrieving a second bag. "Do you think I should get—" As she glanced over her shoulder, she found empty space where Sirius had been standing just a moment before. Taking a basket from the front of the shop, she began filling it with supplies, wondering where he'd run off to.
Hermione made her way through the store to the opposite end, looking for Sirius. Finally, she found him standing towards the front, having just paid the clerk. On the floor next to him was a large owl cage, and in it, a beautiful snowy owl balanced on a perch.
"Sirius," she hissed under her breath, quickly walking over to him. "Who is that?"
The owl in question ruffled its feathers, looking rather pleased. Hermione placed her basket on the floor, looking at the little owl more closely.
"McGonagowl," he replied, sticking his finger through one of the metal spaces of the cage and gently stroking the head of the owl with his knuckle.
Audibly groaning, she covered her face with her hands. "You cannot name your owl McGonagowl."
"Owlbus Dumbledore."
"Sirius."
"Owl Pacino."
Hermione's shoulders slouched as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I knew I shouldn't have introduced you to the Godfather, I was just asking for it."
"Don't be a know-it-owl." An impish grin spread across his cheeks.
She let out a playful scoff as she opened up the package of treats in her basket and offered one to the owl. "If you absolutely insist on purchasing an owl today, then I can find a better name for this beauty. Those are atrocious and I will not subject him to a life of being called Owl Pacino."
"However will you decide?" he asked, tossing a handful of Galleons onto the countertop, far too many for what Hermione had purchased.
"I'll just wing it," Hermione quipped back. The owner's eyes darted between the pair, watching them banter as he rang up her purchases and placed them in a bag. "You know how much I love telling you what to hoo."
Sirius picked up the cage and they walked out into the alley. "Starling, that's what I'm talon you!"
"I can feel my brain disintegrating with each pun." A giggle bubbled up in her chest as her shoes clicked on the cobblestones. "On a serious note, I say he looks like an Ollie."
Sirius hummed noncommittally, lifting the cage and looking to his new owl to read his reaction. "What do you think about Ollie?"
The owl tilted his head at Sirius, cooing softly in approval.
"I think Ollie is the winner." He hooked an arm around her shoulder as they walked. "Let's hope Hazel takes to him. Just like her mum, she has a bite to her if you get on her bad side."
"When did you get on Hazel's bad side?" Hermione asked with a bright laugh. She held her baggie of goods in one hand and rested the other on Sirius' waist, the same as she did with Harry when they were young.
Sirius practically pouted, and the sight made her laugh harder. "I had the audacity to eat a sausage in front of her during breakfast after you had left for work and didn't offer her one as a sacrifice. I've never made that mistake again — she gets a sausage and a bow each morning."
"It's your fault she's chubby!"
"Hey—it's just feathers. She's puffy with all those feathers, big boned one might say," he quipped.
She jabbed a finger into his side in a good-natured manner. "Well, if she becomes too heavy to fly, I'm going to make you my personal owl."
A sly smirk drifted across his face and his fingers thrummed on her shoulder. "Speaking of flying, do you remember what tonight is?"
"Oh no," she groaned, looking down at the cage in his hands. "Ollie save me."
Ollie replied with a sympathetic hoot.
"I'm really regretting committing to that in case you were wondering," Hermione informed Sirius. They were now at the edge of Diagon Alley, their strides matching as they rounded a corner. "To be honest, I don't believe my promise would stand up in court as I was not in a right state of mind to consent."
Sirius' eyes danced mischievously. "I know it's your first time, little witch. I'll be gentle."
The public fireplaces were in sight now, and Hermione tugged at his jacket before releasing her hold on him. "Fine. But first I need to make a stop at one more shop in Muggle London. I think we are overdue on bringing you into the present day. It's not 1980 anymore. You need more than just an owl — you need a mobile."
He shuffled his feet, visibly displeased at the idea of more shopping.
"After that, I'll go on one flight with you and consider my commitment fulfilled."
Sirius opened the door to the cage and let Ollie free. "Ollie, be a good owl and fly home to the flat. Be mindful of your flatmate Hazel; she should be there and she has seniority so if you annoy her, she might eat you."
After Hermione's final stop, the mobile acquired, they entered the flat through the emerald fire.
Placing her bags on the counter, Hermione tugged at one of her curls, feeling her stomach lurch at the thought of flying.
"I'm ready. Oh! Can't forget my signature leather." He collected his jacket from the coat rack by the door. "Witches love a bloke in leather."
Hermione made a face, looking unimpressed.
"What?" He frowned, nearly a pout. "You don't like my leather jacket?"
Her lips quirked into a smile at his reaction. She really did love him in leather. "It's not that it looks bad... you just look like the classic bad boy in a romantic comedy."
He cranked his neck back and forth meticulously, opening the front door. "I don't know what that is, but it feels like a compliment. We know you have a secret proclivity for bad boys," he said, clicking his tongue suggestively.
"I just don't see what the attraction is." She waved a hand at him, gesturing up and down, purposefully goading him. "It's only a jacket."
With a gasp, Sirius covered his jacket with his open palms. "She can hear you!"
Hermione snorted. "I should've known it was a she."
"Well I'm inside her," he guffawed. "It'd be rather uncomfortable if she was a bloke. No judgement." He raised his hands defensively in front of himself. "Considered it at a concert in '78, just not my thing."
"It's official, it's happening. My eyeballs can take no more and will absolutely fall out with the constant rolling. Just how much eyeball insertion experience did you say that you have?" she asked.
"A suspicious amount."