This is for my amazingly wonderful friend, msmerlin, who listens to me bitch, holds me accountable, commiserates with me about husbands and children, and is truly just all around one of the best friends a girl could have. One day we'll run away from it all together and be platonic life partners. We'll just sit and write and drink coffee and it'll be perfect! Until that day, enjoy your fic!
Alpha/beta/therapist props go out to Bionically who had to talk me down from a cliff more than once. This would not be the same without her. She let me borrow some of her great lines that made this little fic so much better. Thank you for all your time and energy and last minute pushes to help me complete this!
This is a Muggle AU, and the timeline is all mixed up. Creative liberties and all that. Hermione is the same age as Sirius, James, Lily, etc. But there are also some of canon Hermione's contemporaries floating about as well. Hope you enjoy.
"Shit." Hermione cursed under her breath as she stumbled a few steps, the heel of her new work pumps catching on the train of the dress she struggled to heave back onto its hangar. "Buggering fucking shit."
Just what she needed; to damage another dress. Sybill had already docked her last paycheck for the previously damaged gown and she couldn't afford to lose more of her admittedly paltry wage. She ran her hands over the back of the fabric, her index finger finding a slight tear in the delicate lace that trailed a metre behind the body of the gown. Bugger.
Hermione quickly pulled the protective plastic over the garment and filed it away on the correct rack. It wasn't as though she meant to keep damaging the dresses. Most were horribly expensive, vintage, one-of-a-kind designs that she couldn't afford to pay to repair. But all that satin and taffeta and lace put together often weighed more than she did. After an eight hour shift lugging dresses from the racks to the changing rooms and onto the bodies of brides-to-be, she just couldn't hold her arms up high enough to clear the hems of her treacherous feet.
Maybe Sybill wouldn't notice the damage on this one until she was safely resigned and off studying at university. Nothing else was going her way today though, so she wasn't going to hold her breath.
Her last client of the day had been late to her appointment and then insisted on trying on each of her chosen gowns twice. So now here she was, twenty minutes past the end of her shift, with two gowns left to put away.
She dragged herself over to the changing room, the hard backs of her pumps scraping at the blisters that had formed on the backs of her heels earlier in the day. Two more dresses. Two more dresses, and then she could clock out, rip off her shoes, and finally sit down. Heaven.
The tiny satin buttons gave Hermione trouble as she refastened them, but eventually she finished the task and lugged the gown into her arms. Her client really did have the most atrocious taste, choosing the most voluminous dresses she could find.
Half-buried under a sea of champagne satin and beading, Hermione stumbled out of the changing room, arms raised as high as she could get them.
"Here, let me help you with that." A tattooed arm cut across her vision, plucking the dress from her arms as if it weighed nothing. "Where should I put it?"
Hermione could only silently nod in the direction of the proper rack, most of her concentration being taken up by her effort to not gape embarrassingly.
The tattooed arm was connected to the body of a man. A very tall, fit man. A man whose tight white shirt was making her stomach all fluttery. The muscles of his back flexed enticingly as he reached up to place the dress on the rack in front of him.
He turned suddenly to look at her, and it was all she could do to not stare into those grey eyes framed by the most luscious dark lashes. Damn. He was even better from the front.
"What's a tiny thing like you doing working at this place?"
Hermione startled at his voice, her face reddening with embarrassment as she hoped he hadn't caught her staring, though she was sure he had to be used to it. Being that classically handsome had to have all the girls flocking to him, not to mention the allure of the smattering of tattoos that practically screamed danger. He was just the type of man a woman couldn't resist.
"Pardon?"
His lips twitched upwards, and he settled his shoulders back against the wall between two full racks of wedding dresses. His casual denims and shaggy black hair were a harsh juxtaposition against the explosion of white throughout the shop. He took his time before answering her, crossing his legs at the ankles while one finger lifted to his face, tapping gently against his lips.
"I said, you're so small. What are you doing working in a sort of place like this, hauling dresses bigger than you?" His eyes raked over her body as though she were a car he needed to inspect before purchasing.
Ugh. And there it was. His beauty ruined as soon as he opened his mouth. She knew his type. So used to all the fawning women that he thought everything he said was witty and charming. She did not have time for this. She rolled her eyes. "I like money."
His laugh surprised her. It seemed genuine, bubbling up from his throat and escaping from between his lips in a surprisingly harsh bark.
"Don't we all. So was it the dresses or the promise of unicorns that led you here to this magnificent establishment?" He raised his eyebrows and looked around as though surveying the land. "I know all you birds tend to cream your pants over both, so which was it for you…" he leaned slightly closer, his eyes drawn to her employee badge pinned to her chest, "...Hermione, the pretty frocks or the magical creatures?"
Hermione's cheeks flushed red again, this time in annoyance. "That's pretty presumptuous of you, assuming that just because I'm a woman I have a hard-on for a mythical creature some man made up to further perpetuate his virginity fetish!"
She knew it was a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. Men like him—handsome, charming, chauvinistic men used to flattery and adulation—hated to be called out on their bullshit. More often than not their endearing smiles would fall away and they'd begin to spout unpleasantries. She braced herself for the onslaught.
Once again, he surprised her. His hand dropped away from his face, and his practiced smirk fell with it, morphing into a full-out, teeth-baring grin. "Oh, the little kitten has claws." He laughed again, stepping closer to Hermione even as she took a small step back from him. "So if it wasn't the unicorns in Unicorn Dreams, it must have been the dresses that drew you in. Maybe you and I can discuss it more in depth over tea? Or coffee if you'd prefer? I'd love to hear more on your theory of the fetishisation of virgins."
Before she could turn him down—because she was going to, she really was—the lingering scent of incense and the tinkling of dozens of cheap metal bangle bracelets interrupted her.
"Oh, Mr Black—may I call you Sirius? It's so good to finally meet you. I do apologise. Our Hermione is apt to be opinionated and has a tendency to let her mouth run away with her. She never was one to understand the intricacies of love." Sybill twittered, her large eyes wide and sincere behind her oversized glasses.
Hermione could only glare at her boss, her anger rising at being spoken about as though she were a child.
"Did I hear the two of you discussing Unicorn Dreams? I opened the shop almost twenty-five years ago, you know, after I met Mr Trelawney, may he rest in peace. I always said finding your perfect match was like finding a unicorn—"
"Yes, a lot of asses parading around with fake horns," Hermione interrupted, staring pointedly down at Sirius's crotch before looking back up. She caught his eye and smiled sweetly.
"AHEM— I meant that your soulmate is like a unicorn in its elusivity. It's difficult to hunt down, and the search may last longer than you'd hope, but once you find it…oh, your life will never be the same!" Sybill glared at Hermione and adjusted her many layers of scarves to sit more haphazardly around her neck. "Hermione, darling. Don't you have work to finish up? I don't pay you to sit here dawdling."
Sybill turned back to Sirius and grabbed his arm, smiling widely, her lipstick-stained teeth visible between her lips. "I'm sorry. Poor girl just doesn't have what it takes to be a bride. There's no romance in her soul. Come. I believe your party has arrived. Let me show the two of you around. The perfect dress is even harder to come by than a unicorn!"
Hermione watched as Sybill dragged Sirius through the shop as though she thought he truly cared about wedding dresses. After a moment of inactivity she shook herself and trudged off to retrieve the last forgotten gown.
As she made sure the lace sat correctly on the hanger, none of it wrinkled or bound to catch on the zip of the protective cover, Hermione thought over the last few minutes. She was thankful Sybill had shown up before she'd had to answer Sirius's invitation to tea…wasn't she? He was really very fit, and she liked the way his eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled, but there was more to a man than his looks! Beneath his attractive exterior he had been quite unattractive…hadn't he? He'd made that insanely offensive comment about women swooning over unicorns and dresses, and he seemed to take it for granted that she'd be attracted to him. But. He hadn't gotten angry when she'd argued with him. In fact, he'd laughed as though he enjoyed her repartee. Plus he had invited her for tea. That had to mean something.
Maybe she'd been too quick to judge him. It wouldn't, after all, be fair to judge someone solely based on a few moments of interrupted conversation. Hermione pulled the last dress into her arms and dragged it to its proper home, leaving it crookedly on the rack. She hardly spared it a glance as her eyes roamed the interior of the store, searching for a bolt of jet black hair amongst all the bridal white.
There!
She caught a glimpse of darkness over in the tea-length dress section, and she casually made her way over. If she happened to stumble upon Sirius again, and he were to ask her for tea, this time she wouldn't hesitate to say yes. Maybe.
She squeezed herself between the oversized skirts of two dresses, taking a shortcut through the racks. She was about to call out his name; ask him—maybe—if he needed anything before she clocked out for the day when the sound of an unfamiliar feminine voice stopped her.
Walking through the aisle, she inched closer to Sirius and the unknown woman, instinctively keeping her presence quiet. She peeked through the rack, catching sight of Sirius's lithe back once more.
Standing in front of him and facing Hermione was a beautiful redhead. She was glowing, her face alight as she held up a delicate gown of antique lace.
"What about this one?" The woman held it up in front of Sirius, her eyes clearly betraying how much she loved it.
"I don't know, Lils, that neckline doesn't look low enough. You should definitely go for something plunging."
The woman swatted him on the arm. "Be serious!"
"I always am, love." Hermione could almost hear the grin in his voice. "Try on whatever you want. We don't have anywhere else to be."
Hermione backed away slowly as she watched Sirius bend slightly at the waist and kiss the woman in front of him.
His fiancée.
She had to be. Hermione didn't know why it hadn't occurred to her earlier. Why else would a man enter a bridal shop of all things? He'd probably arrived here slightly before she had and had amused himself while waiting for her.
Meanwhile Hermione was hiding in a rack of dresses, following him around the store. She was a giant fucking idiot.
As soon as she was out of earshot, Hermione spun on her poor abused heels and practically ran to the back office. Now that the excitement of Sirius Black was over, her aching body and blistered feet made themselves known again. She hollered a quick goodbye to Sybill, grabbed her bag, and pushed out the back door, muttering to herself under her breath the entire time.
Of course he was engaged. What on earth had she been thinking? She'd been so distracted by his wicked charm she'd hunted him down to accept his invitation to tea.
Hermione stopped in her tracks, not noticing the angry cursing of a passerby as he almost ran into her on the walkway. An invitation to teathat he shouldn't have been making. Her anger at herself quickly morphed into anger at him.
What an utter wanker. There he was, flirting with her and inviting her out and almost having a…a moment with her, and he was fucking engaged.
This. This was why she didn't get excited about beautiful wedding gowns and couldn't swallow Sybill's bollocks about bloody unicorns and soulmates. People were mostly just disappointing.
Hermione picked up her pace again. She couldn't believe she had let herself fall for Sirius's charm. He definitely knew what he was doing. Too bad those good looks were wasted on someone so ugly inside.
Luckily he wasn't her problem.
Hermione sank down into the overstuffed suede chair and sighed, glad to finally be off her feet. The zebra-printed purple wingback was decidedly tacky—the whole cafe was—but it was her favourite. She snuggled deeper into the comfort of the cushions, inhaling the spicy cinnamon and ginger of her chai tea.
This is what she needed after her day. The cozy comfort of Oasis with its mismatched upholstered furniture and the competing scents of brewing teas and coffee, wafting with the delicious aroma of freshly baked scones. The cafe was an eyesore, but a god-send.
She'd discovered it at the beginning of summer during her first week working at Unicorn Dreams. When her parents had suggested working with their neighbour at her bridal shop for the summer, she'd expected it not to be fun. Retail, no matter what type, was a pretty thankless job, but she hadn't expected the sheer mental exhaustion that came with brides-to-be.
Lunch time of her second full shift had found Hermione stalking away from the bridal shop, brushing away hot, angry tears as they fell down her cheeks. She had been so bloody frustrated. Frustrated with Sybill and her complete lack of organisation, frustrated with her hag of a client, social media influencer and wanna-be "real" celebrity Pansy Parkinson, and most of all frustrated with herself for letting them get to her like this. She'd wandered the unfamiliar block until she'd followed the scent of brewing caffeine to the bright orange doors of Oasis. She'd been back every day since.
Now she took a sip of her tea and set the mug on the scarred wooden table in front of her. Four more weeks. Four more weeks and she'd be back at uni, tucked away in her tiny flat where her bed moonlighted as her couch and her kitchen consisted of a microwave and a hot plate. She couldn't wait.
Hermione dug through her messenger bag, and her fingers brushed over the books within. They hovered over the thick spine of her astrophysics textbook before moving on to dig out the beat-up paperback hidden in the side pocket. She really should get a head start on her coursework for the coming term, but losing herself in Bridget's romantic drama was just too tempting to pass up after a day like she'd had.
Book and tea in hand, Hermione sighed and let the stress of the day ease from her shoulders. There were very few things caffeine and a good plot couldn't fix.
She flipped a page, sinking into the story and the comfort of the wingback's cushions. She forgot about ripped dresses and uncomfortable work shoes. She forgot about entitled, bitchy brides and their cheating fiancés. She forgot about work and the upcoming year at uni and instead got lost in the life of someone else.
Sometimes when she was in the dressing rooms with clients, helping them with the layers upon layers of white fluffy petticoats and the smooth silk of vintage gowns, Hermione couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Their cheeks were usually flushed and their eyes bright, their demeanour filled with the giddy exaltation of loving and being loved. Hermione knew it was only a glimpse of time, one moment she got to see in the timeline of their lives, but still it was a happy time.
And sometimes, just sometimes, she wished for a little bit of that happiness for herself.
The sudden tinkling from the bell above the café door interrupted Hermione's reading. This time of day Oasis wasn't very busy, catering mostly to a few lone diners and small groups of university-aged students. Most customers took their orders to go, stopping in for a quick cup of tea on their way home from work. It was relatively quiet, which was why Hermione had become a regular.
A burst of deep masculine laughter floated into the cafe with the newcomers, and the accompanying feminine giggle sent shivers down Hermione's spine. She…knew that giggle. She'd heard it earlier that afternoon. At Unicorn Dreams. With him.
The muscles in her neck tensed as she peeked over the top of her paperback. It wouldn't be them, right? Surely a lot of women laughed in that sparkling and dainty way that made Hermione feel like an oaf. Surely they wouldn't have stumbled into this little hole in the wall cafe when there was a Costa Coffee directly across the way from the dress shop. Surely her luck couldn't be bad enough to have to see that cheater again today.
Her eyes flicked to the counter, and at the first sight of the woman's long, silky red hair and the man's broad, leather-covered shoulders, her head popped back behind her book.
Fuck.
It was them. Lily. And Sirius. Even just his name sounded like a complete arsehole. What in the hell had she done in a past life to deserve this? All she wanted was to fucking relax in her favourite fucking cafe with her favorite fucking tea. She did not want to—once again—have to fend off the advances of an over-sexed man-boy while his fiancée sat there completely unaware.
Hermione took a deep breath. She was getting ahead of herself. There was nothing to say he would even notice her there in the corner, let alone approach her again. She would just sit quietly reading her book and blend completely into the background of the dining room. Lily and Sirius would grab their drinks to go just as almost everyone else did this time of day, and they'd be on their way. Five minutes tops.
She'd just keep reading her book and they'd leave, and then she could leave and forget about this entire day. She pulled her legs up onto the cushion, making herself as small and unobtrusive as possible. She kept her book firmly in front of her face, not only hiding herself from view of the other patrons, but also preventing herself from staring at the unwelcome newcomers. She was determined to get lost again within the pages. Reading about Bridget's man problems was much more enjoyable than experiencing her own troubles with so-called men.
Hermione had managed to get through about half a page when the squeak of trainers on the polished wood floor startled her. Her head jerked up and she watched, eyes wide and breath quickening, as Sirius and Lily walked to a table two over from her own.
"Here good, love?"
"Looks great, but we're one chair short for when the others come. Will you grab one? I need to freshen up."
"Sure."
No, no. They weren't going to stay. They couldn't. Bugger. There was no way to leave now without being noticed. Hermione's eyes darted around the room, desperate for some as yet unseen exit to suddenly make itself known. She had been desperate for the cozy comfort of Oasis but now all she wanted to do was go home and wallow in her own bedroom. Alone.
There was nothing for it though. She'd either have to wait it out for God knows how long or gather her courage and saunter past the man as if she didn't recognize him.
She had no more energy to spend on being courageous, so she hunched further into the tacky wingback, hoping the high-upholstered sides and her book would keep her anonymity.
Hermione read the same paragraph over and over, the sounds of a metal chair being dragged across the floor and the clomping of boots preventing her from becoming as engrossed in the text as she'd hoped. It was going to be a long evening. She just needed to ignore everything, shut out the world and she'd be fine.
"So, Team Daniel or Team Mark?"
The voice interrupted her thoughts, making her jump in her seat and drop the paperback onto the table in front of her. It knocked her mug over, the dregs of her tea spilling across the wood surface and threatening to soak the pages of her book.
Hermione grabbed a crumpled napkin and blotted frantically at the spill, glad for the excuse to not have to make eye contact with the one person she'd been desperate to avoid.
"Excuse me?" she asked, not yet bothering to look up from her task.
"The book. Are you Team Daniel or Team Mark?"
Finally understanding his question, Hermione's head shot up, and she glared at the man as he stood before her, one hand gesturing to her book and the other casually shoved into the back pocket of his denims.
"Who in the bloody hell would be Team Daniel?!"
Sirius grinned down at her, his free hand carding through the wavy ink of his hair. "Well, isn't he the fit rich one?"
"He's also the cheating arsehole who lies about it. So if that's your type…"
He just shrugged and looked at her, his mouth quirking up at the corner. "May I sit?" He acted before she could respond and pulled out the chair across from her. He gracefully flopped down into it and crossed his legs, his right ankle on top of his left knee, and he slouched down until his elbow rested on the arm of the chair.
"I didn't think I'd see you again. It must be fate."
Hermione huffed and tossed the wet napkin into the now empty mug. "If it's fate, then I did something to piss her off."
She eyed him as he dared to sit there in front of her as if he didn't have a fiancée. Maybe this was normal for him. Maybe he made it a habit of chatting up women behind her back. It was possible he enjoyed the thrill of it.
It really was too bad he was such an arse. His smile was infectious. The kind that made you want to follow him into mischief, knowing you'd regret it tomorrow but have a hell of a time tonight. He was all chiseled bone and sharp features, his jaw and nose both well-defined and regal. Even his eyes had a certain shrewdness to him, like they'd see through your soul and set you on fire. The only thing soft about him were his lips. They turned what would have been a too-hard-to-be-handsome face into a sensual delight, adding a touch of softness where none was expected.
In other words, he was trouble.
And engaged. She had to remind herself.
"Hermione…it is Hermione right?" he started, clearing his throat before continuing at her nod, "Look, I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot earlier. I know it probably wasn't the cleverest idea to approach you while you were working—"
"You think?" Hermione interrupted, eyes narrowed on his face, not willing to believe a word that came out of his lying, cheating, Daniel mouth.
"Well, yes. It certainly wasn't ideal with your boss popping up halfway through our convo." His fingers began to tap on the chair arm, drumming a disjointed beat. His left leg bounced, jostling his knee onto the underside of the table. Hermione's mug once again rattled but thankfully settled before it could tip over once more.
Hermione just raised both eyebrows, letting them sit high in her forehead as she watched Sirius fidget. She refused to speak, preferring to let himself hang on his own words.
"Anyway, I just wanted to say that I meant what I said before. About coffee. Getting coffee. Together." Both his fingers and leg stopped their movements suddenly, and Sirius stared at Hermione, as though awaiting an answer.
She could only stare back incredulously.
"Are you kidding me?"
"No?" he replied, the easy smile gone from his lips and replaced with a slight frown and furrowed brow. "I know it's weird now, especially since we're already at a coffee house, but I would like to get coffee with you. Again. Some other time. When it's planned, I mean."
He looked down at his hand and quickly back up at her, his alluring smile firmly back in place. It was the smile of a man who knew he was good-looking. Who was confident in his ability to charm women into getting what he wanted.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Sirius's smile dropped a little at the corners but he managed to maintain it. His eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at her and his fingers picked up their tapping rhythm once more.
"I can't believe you'd possibly think that I would say yes."
Hermione uncurled her legs and dropped her feet to the floor, pushing the heavy chair back from the table. She had to get away from him. How dare he think she was the type of girl to fall for his easy smile and good looks and conveniently forget that he had a fiancée who was currently still in the bloody loo?
Did he think she would go along with him without a fight because she was only a low-rung retail clerk? Did he think that just because she was completely average and plain that she would simply fall at his feet for any scrap of attention he gave her? Well, he could think the fuck again. She was slightly lonely, not desperate.
"Excuse me."
Hermione stood up and turned her back to him to head towards the bathroom at the back of the cafe. She didn't normally like to interfere with other people's relationships, but she had to tell Lily. This was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.
Hermione pushed open the bathroom door, letting it swing shut behind her. The other young woman stood at the sink coating her lips with a thin layer of gloss. Her eyes were focused on her task, and she hadn't noticed Hermione's entrance.
"Excuse me. Lily?" Hermione walked to the sink counter, resting her hip along the tiled surface and turning her body towards the other woman.
"Yes? Do I know you?"
Hermione watched in the mirror as Lily's brow furrowed before suddenly clearing with apparent recognition.
"Oh! You work at the dress shop. Is everything alright with my dress? I know the—"
"Oh! Yes!" Hermione jumped in, not wanting Lily to continue thinking she was here in any sort of professional capacity. "I'm sure everything with your gown is just lovely. I'm actually here to discuss something...rather personal with you."
Lily turned to face Hermione, tucking her lip gloss back into the small purse dangling from her shoulder. One perfectly arched eyebrow was raised above truly, the most obnoxiously green eyes Hermione had ever seen.
"I'm sorry, I don't really know how to say this. I swear I don't normally accost strangers in bathrooms." Hermione bit her bottom lip, beginning to regret her hasty decision to confront this woman. She had no plan. She hadn't even given a moment's thought about what to say. Lily might know all about her fiancé's wandering eye and be perfectly fine with it. Truly, what business was it of hers anyway?
"Well, now I'm intrigued. Go on." Lily smiled, flicking back a long strand of satiny hair that had stuck to her freshly glossed lips.
"Your fiancé is a complete and utter wanker."
Lily's face immediately hardened, her mouth turning down at the corners as her hand convulsively clutched at her purse strap.
"And how do you know James?"
"James? Oh my God this just gets better and better. He told me his name was Sirius." Hermione's laugh sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Can you believe it? What an arse."
The frown lines were back on Lily's forehead. "Wait a moment. Are you talking about James or Sirius?"
"Sirius, James…does it matter what he calls himself? The man sitting out there with you. Shaggy hair, chiseled jaw, tight denims? You know, your fiancé? He's a pig. He's come on to me twice now today. I don't usually involve myself in other people's business, but if I were dress shopping for my wedding and my fiancé tried to hook up with the salesgirl, I'd want to know."
Hermione stood there, waiting for some sort of reaction. Anger. Denial. Tears.
Instead of any of the expected reactions, Lily broke out in peals of laughter. She clutched her arm against her stomach as she bent over, unable to hold herself completely upright at the violence of the giggles escaping her.
"Oh my God. You thought—you thought I was with Sirius?" she managed to gasp out in between bouts of mirth. "You thought he was my fiancé?"
Hermione just stood there and stared at the woman, completely thrown off by her reaction. It was nowhere near what she had expected. "What? He's not? But the dress shop! He was with you, and now you're getting tea! And he called you 'love'! He kissed you!"
Lily finally stood upright and brushed the tears from her cheeks as her laughter finally subsided into random little gasping hiccups.
"Um—I'm sorry, I don't recall your name."
"Hermione."
"Yes, sorry. Hermione. Sirius calls everyone love. It's one of his many faults. And he kissed me on the cheek. And to answer your implied question, he's just a good friend. One of the best. My chief bridesmaid is down with the flu so Sirius—my fiancé's best man—volunteered to look after me today. We've known each other since primary school. He's a cad but a great friend with a heart of gold."
Hermione's cheeks reddened the longer Lily spoke. She raised her right hand to try to cover up the heat radiating from her skin. This poor woman. She'd accosted her in the bathroom over nothing! She felt like a complete fool.
"I'm so sorry." The apology tumbled out of Hermione's mouth, the words tripping over themselves in her haste to extricate herself from the situation as quickly as possible. "I should have never just assumed…I'll just…be going now."
She turned on her heel and practically jumped through the doorway; she was so desperate to grab her bag and leave at once. That was it. She could never look either Lily or Sirius in the face again. She'd have to check the appointments log and try to avoid them in the shop the next time they came in for fittings. If they came back. Lily could very well choose to take her business elsewhere once she had time to think about just how far Hermione had overstepped her bounds. Sybill was going to murder her. Who knew what kind of weapons she kept hidden beneath all those scarves and bangles?
Hermione had just made it into the dining room of the cafe when Lily caught up to her, sliding her arm through Hermione's and linking elbows with her. Lily pulled her away from the purple zebra-striped chair where her book and bag sat abandoned, just waiting for her to grab them and run.
"Oh no you don't." Lily tugged her to the center of the cafe, towards the squat little sofa and table where her own mug sat waiting. Towards Sirius, who had apparently relocated while she'd been in the loo. "Come on. You have to tell Sirius. He'll just die when he finds out you thought we were an item!" Another little laugh escaped her throat. "Sirius!"
Hermione hunched her shoulders at Lily's shout, desperately wishing the floor would just open up and swallow her. She really didn't want to see Sirius. She had made a complete arse of herself, making assumptions and then holding him accountable for them. She really just wanted to go home and crawl into bed and pretend this day didn't happen.
Which was really quite difficult with Lily practically dragging her to where he sat.
"Sirius!" Lily called out again, finally catching his attention.
Hermione's eyes raked over him as he leaned back in the metal chair, legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle. His left arm was bent behind his head, causing the cotton of his shirt to cling to the muscle of his chest and bicep.
He really was very fit. And… single, apparently. The beat of butterfly wings thudded in her abdomen.
Her eyes continued to take him in; the way he unconsciously tossed his hair out of his face as he looked up at them, the arch of his eyebrows as he raised both with apparent surprise, the book that casually dangled from the fingers of his right hand…
"Did you take my book?" Her voice came out more shrill than she had planned, but the sheer audacity of him to have taken her personal property while she was agonising over her gaffe was just too much.
Sirius pulled his arm from behind his head and sat up straight, merely glancing in Hermione's direction before he lifted the book in front of him and carelessly flipped through it.
"I wanted to see what had you so narked with this bloke, Daniel."
"You had no right! That's my personal property!"
Lily's head swiveled between the two of them, taking in their argument before quickly pushing Hermione into the small loveseat at the table. She immediately sat directly next to her, keeping their arms linked as though she were afraid Hermione would bolt at the first opportunity. "That's enough. People are starting to stare. And I quite like this cafe. I'd like to come back." She reached for her teacup and brought it to her lips.
Sirius and Hermione glared at each other across the small table, neither one willing to apologise or change the subject.
Lily continued to watch the two of them with a small smirk that grew larger with each passing moment. She finally set her teacup on the saucer and laughed.
"Sparks are practically flying between the two of you. Sirius, you really should invite her to the party on Saturday. It's obvious you two have a lot to discuss." She turned to Hermione. "You really should come. It's at our friend Remus's house. It'll just be a small group of friends; nothing too extravagant."
Sirius cleared his throat. "Leave her alone Lils. She doesn't want to go."
"Hmmm," Lily replied, her eyes sparkling as she turned to face Sirius. "Maybe that's because she thought you and I were together."
His brow furrowed. "What would that have to do with anything? We're usually all together."
"No Sirius, she thought you and I were together. Engaged." Lily pushed her lips together and rolled them inwards as though she were trying to contain her laughter.
He stared at Lily, his eyes comically wide and his mouth formed into a grimace as though he were absolutely disgusted by the idea. "What?! Why would…"
Hermione hunched her shoulders in an attempt to make herself less obtrusive. Oh God, this was so embarrassing. She'd practically laughed in his face when he'd asked her out, so caught up in her own perception of who he was. She brought her thumb to her mouth and began to chew on the fingernail.
Sirius looked at Hermione. "Lily is like a sister to me. We've grown up together. She's my best mate's girl! You thought we were engaged? You thought I was asking you out with my fiancée a few metres away?"
"You were with her! You called her love and you…you WERE IN A BRIDAL SHOP!" Hermione's voice raised with each word until she was almost shouting by the end. "What was I supposed to think?!"
Her chest was heaving with anger, and she glared daggers across the table at Sirius. His hands were flat on the table, elbows bent as he leaned slightly toward her, never breaking eye contact.
The clearing of a throat made them both jump where they sat and they finally broke their staring contest. Two men stood next to the table watching the occupants with quizzical smiles on their faces. "What did we miss?"
The black-haired man leaned down and kissed Lily on the mouth, his lips lingering on hers for just a moment longer than socially acceptable. "Hullo, darling. Busy day?"
"Of course. James, this is Hermione, Hermione, James. My fiancé."
At Lily's tone James quirked his eyebrow and looked at Hermione. "That sounds like there's a story attached. Remus, it looks like we're down a chair; can you pull one over from the next table?"
Before the second man—Remus—could act, Hermione stood up.
"Oh, no. Please, sit here. I really must be going anyway." She smiled politely at the two newcomers and then turned to Lily. "Thank you for the invitation, but I'll have to pass. I hope you have a beautiful wedding."
Without even glancing in Sirius's direction, she walked over to her previous table, grabbed her messenger bag, and walked out the cafe door. She didn't look back.