Title: Allure
Author: KissThis
Rating: R/M (for future sexual content)
Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter related. This story is for my fans.
Pairing: Siremione – Sirius x Remus x Hermione
A/N: I forgot to mention this for those who didn't hear about the beginnings of this – this will be updated everyday and as such it's more along the lines of 100-word prompts; though, as you all know I'm utterly incapable of cutting anything down to 100 words. So these entries will range anywhere from 500-1,000 words. They are meant to be brief so be prepared for jumps in time.
Enjoy the love.
Hermione's head was filled with a month's-worth of stories and exotic adventures, and though she was likely to burst for want of sharing them, she was equally happy to let the warmth and bustle of the Burrow overwhelm her. Weasley dinners were never a quiet affair and coupled with Hermione's return the festivities lasted long into the evening.
As per tradition, Hermione gifted the entire family with mementos from her trip – a charmed necklace for Ginny, rare ingredients for the twins. She was thanked profusely by all and sternly chastised for spending so much money by Mrs. Weasley – who'd been brought to tears by the bundle of fine Romanian wool and rushed off to begin work on the annual Weasley sweaters. In truth, one of Hermione's greatest joys in traveling was searching out souvenirs for her friends and family – pretty soon they'd have something from every continent.
Hermione's job was her life
Shortly after completing her final year at Hogwarts, she'd joined Harry and Ron at the Ministry being rebuilt under guidance of Kingsley Shacklebolt. Weary of fighting, she chose to continue her efforts towards the fair and ethical treatment of magical creatures, rather than enlist with the Aurors as her friends had done.
Five years later, she was Deputy Chief of the department and sitting on the back steps of the Burrow enjoying a pleasant rest after another long campaign. That's where Remus found her a quarter after ten.
"Lovely night."
She smiled up at him, accepting the glass of lemonade he offered and sipping it gratefully. The cool liquid soothed her dry mouth and the icy glass was refreshing against her forehead. "Thank you."
He sat down next to her on the steps and stretched out his legs. She still wore the faded blue jeans and white t-shirt she'd been wearing when she'd shown up at Grimmauld Place, out of the blue and four weeks after they'd seen her last. In all the years he'd known her, she'd always dressed rather plain – finding no logic in Ginny's make-up Charms or Witch Weekly's latest fashions. Even now she'd kicked off her trainers and rolled up her jeans so she could dig her toes into the cool grass. In fact, the only adornment she wore was a rather pretty turquoise scarf he surmised she'd gotten in Romania. It held back her ever-bushy hair that even now was turning wild in the humidity, and the golden thread shot throughout drew in the flickering porch light.
Sitting next to her, he could forget that his own jeans were worn, that his shirt was patched. Hermione never seemed to notice.
The ice clinked in her glass as she took another drink. "Romania's horrid at night," she confided.
"The heat?"
"The mosquitoes."
Remus laughed and the sound of it floated out over the yard. "The great Hermione Granger – thwarted by mere bugs? I don't believe it."
"Oh hush," she grumbled. "I know you've only come out here to pester me for your gift, but I don't think I'll give it to you after all."
Remus's smile faltered momentarily, then gave way to a look of innocence. "Gift? What gift?"
Hermione wasn't fooled for a moment, and opened her mouth to tell him so.
"It's a book."
Remus nearly jumped out of his skin, but Hermione was already arguing with the man who'd walked up from the lake. "—how would you know," she was demanding, looking defensive in a way that made it painfully clear the gift in question was, in fact, a book.
"It's always a book." Sirius drawled and sat down between them, squeezing himself into the small gap until Remus obligingly shifted over. "If he weren't Remus, I'd say he'd be sick of books."
A small, neatly wrapped package hit him square in the nose.
He seemed less concerned that Hermione had thrown it at him, and more interested in the fact that it was a present. He shot her a wicked grin and Hermione, who'd been scowling hard enough to burn a hole in his head, couldn't help but give a begrudging sort of shrug, infected by his sheer excitement. "Yes. It's a gift – not that you deserve one the way you behave," she confirmed with a haughty sniff.
Sirius tore open the wrapping and a pair of dragon-hide gloves fell into his lap. They were thin and plated with black scales that shone like prisms when he lifted them to the light – perfect for his motorcycle.
"There are these women – near the dragon sanctuary – and they come around when the dragons are shedding their old scales – the molting period – and then they—"
"Brilliant," Sirius exclaimed, not listening. "Did your boyfriend help pick them out?"
Hermione's cheeks, burnt as they were by sun, turned a little more pink. "I don't have time for that sort of thing," she stated primly.
She stood rather suddenly, nearly upsetting her glass before Sirius grabbed it. "I should help Molly clean up." The porch door squeaked loudly as she disappeared back inside.
Sirius frowned at the door, mildly puzzled at her sudden change in attitude, and was about to ask Remus about it when a flash of gold caught his eye. A small rectangular package was lying on the porch, half-hidden by the railing, perfectly wrapped in gold paper and adorned with a white bow.
"Oi! She left this behind." He scooped it up, caught sight of Remus' name in Hermione's distinctive script, and handed it to his companion.
Remus set aside his lemonade and took the gift in his hands. Sirius watched him out of the corner of his eye, turning that gold parcel over and over, as Sirius fidgeted with his new riding gloves.
Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. "Aren't you gonna open it? See what it is?"
Remus' head tilted softly up, his amber eyes catching the porch light. He smiled faintly and shook his head.
"It's just a book."