"Do I want to get on this motorbike?" Icy dread trickled down her spine as she eyed the bike sitting in the center of a field of wildflowers in front of them.

Cocking his head, Sirius took her hand in his and walked backwards as he pulled her along. "Did Moony get high on fumes after a potions accident in sixth year and then cry about how small baby mandrakes are?"

"What?" The mental image made her laugh, and Sirius smiled in response. "He did not, that's absurd."

He gave her a knowing look and released her hand as they approached the bike.

"You're not making it up?"

"Did Prongs take a leak in Snivellus' cauldron and cause said potions accident?"

With a groan, she asked, "If I get on the damn bike, will you stop answering questions with questions?"

Just as he opened his mouth to reply, she cut him off, "You're about to answer that with a question, aren't you?"

He smirked.

"I don't want you to think you're the only one making a sacrifice tonight, so in return for your show of bravery, I will make the ultimate sacrifice." Sirius gave a quick nod, as if bracing himself for something.

"What are you on about?"

With a wiggle of his shoulders, Sirius shrugged off his signature leather jacket and slipped it over her.

The jacket swallowed her and the shoulders were much too broad for her small frame, but it was oddly comfortable. Hermione had never returned his pullover and the smell of his cologne had faded after the first few weeks; she would never admit it, but it had been disappointing to find that it no longer smelled like him.

"You're letting me wear her?" She felt oddly touched by the gesture and fingered the worn leather absentmindedly.

"Pity you don't like leather." A smile played on the edge of his mouth as if he had a secret. "She's never looked better than she does on you."

She told herself it was the prospect of flying and not the compliment or the way he looked at her that left her feeling dizzy and breathless.

"I bet you say that to all the witches you bring flying," she quipped, hoping it wasn't true.

His lips curved down into a frown, his brow creasing with the motion. "Actually no. You're the first witch I've ever brought flying."

The admission took her by surprise, and she almost felt guilty; without meaning to, she had sounded like she was accusing him of something. "Well, I feel honoured to be making history." As she looked down at the machine, she wondered how two of them would fit on one seat. "Thank you for letting me wear your jacket, I feel safer already. Speaking of, shouldn't we also wear helmets?"

"Oh, that's unnecessary."

"Helmets are unnecessary?" she asked, her voice higher than normal.

He shrugged, a sparkle of mischief in his eye. "Don't worry, I haven't fallen off in weeks."

As she crossed her arms, the jacket bunched up around her and she grumbled, "That's not very nice of you to tease me like that."

Hooking his leg around the bike, he gave her a crooked cajoling grin. "Ready?"

"I still can't believe you talked me into this."

"I'm very persuasive." He gently tugged at her arm. "It should comfort you that I already have experience in this department. You're talking to the Marauder who helped Peter overcome his fear of turtles."

"Turtles?" she sighed, trying to loosen the tension in her body by shaking her limbs around. "Fine. I'll close my eyes and imagine I'm somewhere else. Let's get this over with."

"Pretty sure that was exactly what Walburga said to Orion the night of my conception." He grimaced. "Forget I said that," he finished with a horrified shudder.

Hermione stood a step from the motorcycle, wringing her clammy hands together. Her vision became hazy as her anxiety grew with each passing second. Suddenly, she was back at Hogwarts during their first year, wobbling back and forth on her broom, her legs trembling as she tried to get it to listen to her commands.

"I promise you'll be safe with me." Sirius' quiet voice broke through her thoughts. Her eyes focused on the hand that he offered her.

"I trust you," she replied, her voice trembling.

Placing her small hand in his, she squeezed so tightly she was sure she had crushed his fingers, though he didn't say anything about it. Sirius guided her onto the bike behind him and she slipped her arms around his torso.

A familiar tightening overtook her throat and she felt her breaths coming out shorter and shallower. Her fingers trembled as they interlaced on his chest, feeling his muscles tense beneath her touch. His solid frame was comforting and she found herself removing all space between them, clinging tightly to him.

The bike roared to life beneath them and she tucked her head against his back, pinching her eyelids shut. Hermione felt a prickling sensation sweep down her body from head to toe and knew Sirius had cast a Disillusionment Charm over them.

Wind swept through her hair and around her cheeks as the bike lifted into the air, a feeling of weightlessness taking her by surprise.

"How did you help Peter overcome his fear of turtles?" The question slipped from her lips as she tried to distract herself from their ascent.

"I hid live turtles in his bed, his desk, his bath, pretty much everywhere until he wasn't afraid anymore."

She stilled, remembering Ron and his crippling fear of spiders. "And that worked?"

"Of course it did. The mind healer said there were hardly any long-term side effects from the trauma."

"Hardly any!?"

Sirius pulled the front of the motorcycle up, making her stomach drop as they took a sharp incline into the night sky.

"Hold on, little Starling, you were made to fly!"

The wind whipped her hair around and she was suddenly grateful for the jacket shielding her from the chilled night air.

Once they reached a certain height, the bike leveled out and began to coast, gliding through the air. She finally opened her eyes and—

Her mouth dropped in awe as she drank in the sight around her. The dark sky was illuminated by a thousand stars and the waning moon, stealing the breath from her lungs.

"What do you think?" he called out, tilting his head back towards her.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, pressing her cheek against his shoulder as she watched the world pass by.

She wasn't sure how long they flew, but the panic in her chest had let up long ago, replaced by a feeling of admiration for the beauty of the world as they traveled around the city.

Sirius took one hand off his handlebars and placed it over hers on his chest. He gave her hand a light squeeze, the comforting motion tugging at her heart. "Doing okay?"

"Never better," she replied, surprising herself with how true the words were.

After a gentle descent, Sirius landed back in the grass next to their flat. He hopped off the bike, picked Hermione up by the waist and placed her feet back on the ground.

"So?" The question was asked with a coy grin as he unsuccessfully tried to smooth part of her wild hair down.

Hermione grumbled obscurely under her breath.

He lifted her chin to meet his gaze and her stomach flipped as if they were still on the bike. "You liked it," he accused in a playful tone. "Did I just single-handedly convince Hermione Granger to like flying?"

Leaning away from his touch, she fought back a smile and replied, "It wasn't the worst."

He threw his arms in the air and jogged a victory lap around the motorbike.

"Don't flatter yourself. It was just that the bike felt more familiar and safe than a tiny little broom."

"And they say size doesn't matter," he quipped with pride as he rested his hand on the seat of the bike.

She turned back to the flat, tossing him a wink over her shoulder. "Oh Sirius, darling, no one truly believes that."

"You naughty witch!" he gasped in faux scandal, lengthening his strides to catch up to her.

Giggling, she raced to the door, three steps ahead of him.

When Hermione opened the door to the flat, she stopped in her tracks at the scene before her. Sirius nearly ran into her in the doorway, catching himself just before the collision.

"Shh," she hushed him, pointing to the owls that were perched near the open window.

Hazel was cooing softly, her head tilted against Ollie's who was rubbing gently against her in return.

"I think Hazel took to Ollie," Hermione mused, her heart swelling at the sight of the snuggling owls.

"Are owl weddings a thing?" His smile was full and teasing. "Because tradition dictates that you pay."

"Oh yes. How I forgot, Sirius Black and his adherence to tradition, the most iconic of duos."

He grumbled an unintelligible response. "You could just let me have one sometime."

Hermione ruffled his hair, her fingers trailing through his windswept black curls. "I believe you're far too cocky already; it's my duty to society to keep you in line."

As he caught her wrist, a devilish look flashed in his eyes. She faltered, looking down to his hand and, before she could process, he was swinging an arm around her, catching her by the waist and lifting her in the air as if she were weightless.

Sirius picked her up with such ease, her mind briefly entertained the idea of other activities that could be done with his arms supporting her in the air. He clearly had the strength to pin her and take her against the wall behind them.

Her cheeks burned at the mental image.

Flailing wildly, she began to whack him playfully with her arms as she squealed, "Put me down!"

"I believe you're far too cocky, Hermione," his low voice purred in her ear, sending a cascade of flutters down her spine. "It's my duty to keep you in line."

A whimper escaped her lips. The rumble of his voice against her chest was intoxicating, and it spread through her body like the first taste of firewhisky.

The smile fell from his face and was replaced with a look of distress as he gently placed her back on the ground. Hermione steadied herself against his chest, her fingertips brushing against the muscles she had spent the night memorising.

"Fuck. Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to squeeze so tightly, I just forget how small you are sometimes," he rambled, inspecting her wrist for a bruise. "You just seem so big when you talk and with that hair and—are you okay?"

Rallying her dignity, she feigned nonchalance. "I'm fine, I think I'm just tired. It's been an... eventful night."

His touch was like fire, igniting something inside her with each brush of his skin.

"You look flushed, are you sure you're just tired?" Sirius pressed a hand to her forehead, completely oblivious to the lewd images flashing in her mind.

Suppressing a groan of shame, she nodded. "Absolutely. Before I forget, I believe this belongs to you." She reluctantly pulled the leather jacket off, wishing she could have kept it like she did the pullover.

"Anytime."

She gave him a small smile. "Thanks for the flight. It wasn't the worst."

"Minimal trauma?" he teased, his eyes taking in the blush on her cheeks.

"Only time will tell. I'll send you the bill for my mind healer."

I'll need one after living with you, she thought dryly.

Being his flatmate was becoming a unique and delicious type of torment.

Hermione's alarm buzzed softly next to her head. She rolled over, her eyes bleary from sleep. Yawning, she slipped on her robe and made her way to the loo.

The door was closed; she frowned, checking the time. She had a perfectly timed morning routine, for which she was already five minutes behind.

It was the same schedule she had maintained for years, down to the minute. Most mornings, Sirius was still in bed by the time she left for work.

He must have done this on purpose to annoy her.

"Sirius." She rapped her knuckle on the door. "I have to get ready for work."

Tapping her foot, she waited impatiently.

Several moments later she raised her hand to knock again.

The door opened, a burst of steam releasing from the room. Sirius stood in the doorway, bare except for a towel tied loosely around his waist. His skin glistened from the moisture of the shower.

Hermione's eyes trailed down before she could consciously stop herself. His tattoos, usually hidden beneath his clothing, were now fully visible to her wandering eyes. Across his chest and shoulder he had a lion, a symbol she could not make out, a phoenix, and a compass. Dark hair peppered his toned chest into a delicious line that trailed beneath the towel. She let her eyes rest a beat too long on the towel before jumping up to his face.

She wet her lips with her tongue.

The corner of his lip twitched in amusement. "Patience, my little witch, is a virtue."

"Oh yes," she retorted, ignoring the empty ache in her abdomen at the sight. "Everyone knows you're the pinnacle of virtue."

Expectantly, he raised his brows, waiting.

She frowned, confused at his wordless request.

Sirius' lips curled into a tempting smirk and he took a step forward, looking down to meet her eyes. "Like what you see, little witch?"

Her mind stuttered.

Yes, she silently keened, pushing her thighs together at her knees.

"You do realize for me to leave, you'll have to step aside first?" His voice dropped enticingly and caused her to swallow hard.

Her legs felt wobbly as she stepped to the side, his bare arm brushing against her as he passed. A thin white scar ran between his shoulder blades. She dragged her eyes away from his muscled back as he disappeared from view.

"Oh my god," she muttered under her breath, inhaling deeply. The steam from the room was suffocating.

It was definitely the steam going to her brain that made her mind hazy and her knees weak.

The steam.

Not the partially nude flatmate.

She rested her forehead against the doorframe, unblinking, the image burned into the back of her eyelids.

Only twenty minutes behind her normal schedule, Hermione quickly made her way up the familiar path from the Ministry fireplaces to her desk on level four. She bypassed her morning coffee and went right to her department, still feeling flustered from her interaction with Sirius this morning.

Ding.

The noise caught her attention and her eyes widened, rummaging through her briefcase as she walked, balancing it in her arms. Snapping her briefcase shut, she scanned the notification on her Nokia.

It had taken a bit of convincing but Sirius had taken to his new device with enthusiasm as soon as he realised he could use it to bother his mates. The first call he made was a prank call to Remus and the second was a prank call to James, pretending to be Remus.

Hey Starling, you forgot something important at the flat.

Her brow knitted together in concern and she ran through a quick mental list of everything she needed for her work day. She typed with one hand, trying to reply as she walked.

What did I—

"Woah! Granger!"

She jumped at the exclamation, stopping dead in her tracks. Looking up from her phone, she realised she had nearly run head first into Theo Nott.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, Theodore! I wasn't watching where I was walking," she apologised profusely, feeling her cheeks heat up with a fresh wave of embarrassment. "I've had a rough morning."

His brows disappeared behind his hairline and a smile pulled his lips to the side. "Anything I can do to make it better?"

"No, but I appreciate your offer. I just need to take a minute and breathe—"

Ding.

Her eyes caught on the text dancing across her small screen.

Me. It was me. You forgot me at the flat.

Fighting the urge to laugh, she turned her attention back to Theo.

Ding.

Despite her best intentions, she glanced back down at the next message.

I'm willing to overlook this devastating misunderstanding for the small fee of two slices of pizza tonight.

Theo was watching her with a curious expression. "Am I interrupting something?"

"No, no," she quickly assured him, shoving it back into her pocket. "My flatmate just learned about texting this weekend and is now being relentlessly needy. Honestly, it's my fault. I'm the one who insisted on purchasing a mobile this weekend, so I brought this on myself."

His shoulders relaxed and he continued walking towards her desk. "How about I get you a coffee? Two cream, extra sugar?"

"Theodore, I'm going to survive. I should cut back on the caffeine anyway." She gave him a grateful smile, her eyes catching on the folder he was carrying. "Is that for me?"

As if he had completely forgotten, he looked down at the paperwork in his hands. "Oh, yes. There's a new development on the thefts going on in Muggle London. We're going to apprehend the offender tomorrow and, according to our intel, he has several magical creatures involved in his operation."

"Which creatures?"

"A small herd of Nifflers he uses to slip around and steal jewelry and other goods from unsuspecting Muggles. Then they either pawn their loot or melt it down and sell it in Knockturn Alley," he explained, handing her the folder.

"Same as usual?" she asked, flipping the folder open and reading the introductory lines for the case. They turned into her office and she set her briefcase down before sitting on the edge of the desk to skim the document. "I'll bring the bag and show up around nine?"

Theo ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. "I'm actually going with you to the site tomorrow."

"Why would you—"

Ding.

She pulled the phone out of her pocket with a groan and peeked at the screen. "Sorry."

You drive a hard bargain. I'll reduce my offer to one slice of pizza and two compliments on my hair.

Rapid footsteps came from down the hall. Theo looked amused as he asked, "The flatmate again?"

Nodding, she tried to ignore the flutter in her stomach with each message.

"She sure loves your attention, doesn't she?" The corner of his mouth twitched, holding back a laugh.

Hermione frowned, her head cocking in confusion. "Oh. My flatmate is—"

Hannah Abbott popped her head through the open office door. "Hermione, I'm already late for the intro meeting with Finnigan from the DMLE and I can't find his paperwork anywhere," she explained breathlessly, her voice sharp with panic.

"I'll let you go save the day, Granger. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"See you tomorrow, Theodore!"

Ding.

Her lips curved up into a smile as she glanced down at her phone and typed out her reply.

It's a date.