Sleep is Overrated
By Ange de Socrates
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., et al own Harry Potter. My deluded imagination and babbling are my own. I get no money for writing this, obviously.
WARNING: Rated M for a reason!
Chapter Three – Who'd Have Thought It?
Sirius held open the door and placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back, maneuvering her into what appeared to be a dive bar.
Numerous wooden tables lined the right side of the large, open space, while a mahogany-finished bar took up most of the wall to the left, where a smattering of people were nursing drinks and chatting amongst themselves. The real crowd, however, was at the far end of the room, where a band appeared to be setting up for their show. Other than a few flickering lights over the bar and the stage, it was incredibly dark and smelled of cigarette smoke.
Hermione looked back at Sirius, who was eyeing her appraisingly.
"Just my kind of place," she told him truthfully, giving him a grin. He returned it and guided her to a table near to where twenty or so people had gathered around the slightly elevated stage upon which the band members were tuning guitars and adjusting the drum set.
"Drinks?" Sirius suggested.
"Perfect," Hermione agreed. "Let me give you some..."
"Ah ah," the wizard objected as Hermione rummaged around in her purse for a few quid. "A gentleman always pays for his lady."
Hermione flushed, not sure what to say. Sirius cupped her chin and gave her a chaste kiss before striding over to the bartender.
It seemed as though the excited feelings were finally winning the epic battle against the apprehensive ones. She sat down on one wooden chair with a bit of a silly grin and watched the band finish setting up as she waited for Sirius to return with drinks. There were only three members: a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer.
It had been a long time since Hermione had been to a bar show, and now that she was there, she realized how much she missed it. Though she did enjoy listening to her parents' old vinyl records and the wizarding wireless, nothing could rival the raw energy and purity of a live show at an intimate venue.
Sirius sat down next to Hermione and pushed a bottle of beer in front of her. She glanced at the label and suddenly realized this was a regular Muggle bar.
"I didn't know you kept tabs on the local music scene," she commented, popping the cap off the beer on the edge of the table.
Sirius seemed impressed at Hermione's bottle-popping ability and followed suit with his, taking a large swig of it. "This band in particular has a special place in my heart. I try to catch them whenever they're around, though I've sometimes had to track them down across the pond."
The guitarist suddenly noticed Sirius and gave a small wave in his direction. Sirius nodded in return and then turned to watch Hermione intently.
It started as a slight ache in her stomach, but soon it grew into a burn that had her arms and legs tingling. She wanted him. Very, very badly.
A single chord strummed on the guitar was enough to make the crowd scream in excitement, and Hermione reluctantly turned her eyes from Sirius to watch the set, taking a drink from her beer. She felt a smile tug at her lips as she felt the wizard scoot closer, one arm settling around her waist from behind, the other still holding his beer.
The already dim lights were turned even lower as the guitarist with shaggy, dark brown hair began to sing. Hermione watched him contentedly, the music filling the bar so that all but the sounds of the screaming fans was drowned out.
"I know you're not asleep, I can feel you moving over there. You've been playing with the seam in your worn out underwear. My lips are raw as hell from biting on them just to stay awake. It's not like I'm gonna need them, you won't be around to see them bleed and break..."
Hermione jumped slightly as the bass and drums suddenly picked up, and the groupies at the stage screamed even louder.
"All that I do comes back to you, so I'll just think about you till there's nothing in my head. All I can do is try not to screw this up again and just be friends, I'd rather be dead."
Sirius rested his chin on Hermione's shoulder, and she shuddered slightly at the additional contact. The song, the light, the physical proximity... It was enough to make Hermione go mad with need.
"You like it?" he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.
Hermione could only nod – she didn't trust herself to speak, afraid her voice would only come out as an unattractive squeak.
She moaned softly as his tongue caressed the skin at the junction of her jaw and earlobe, clutching hard at the beer bottle with one hand and the table with the other. She met him in a deep, slow kiss, the noise of the screaming fans and sultry song fading away, until…
"Hey lovebirds, got a request?"
Hermione's head snapped in the direction of the voice so quickly that she could've sworn she cracked her neck. Sirius laughed and inconspicuously dropped his hands lower.
"How about Mixtape?" he called up to the stage.
The guitarist grinned and nodded. "All right guys, let's do it."
As they launched into the next song, Hermione felt she would die of embarrassment. However, as the bar's patrons turned their attention back to the band, she got her flush under control and managed to even her breathing.
"Sorry," Sirius whispered. "Couldn't keep my hands to myself."
Hermione turned in her chair and planted another searing kiss on his lips. "Funny. Neither can I," she whispered back, smiling impishly before turning back to the musicians.
How they managed to make it through the show without shagging in a bathroom or dark corner, Hermione wasn't sure. It wasn't at all because she disliked the music; as a matter of fact she quite enjoyed it and would certainly be back for another show as well as buy any records the band had put out.
But Sirius Black… He was simply irresistible.
As they emerged from the dive bar into the night, Hermione realized the air had cooled considerably. She shivered slightly and was pleasantly surprised when Sirius took his blazer off without hesitation and wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Thanks," she said, smiling gratefully. "Clothes like these aren't exactly practical."
"But they look bloody amazing," Sirius retorted, kissing the top of Hermione's head as he took one of her hands in his.
Hermione's stomach did a tiny back flip. They were holding hands, walking down the street and heading home after a date. Were they a…
"So I've been thinking," Sirius said as they walked back toward Grimmauld Place, stepping around the groupies that had gathered on the sidewalk to wait for the band. "I know it's only been, what, a day?" He hummed thoughtfully. "Wow."
Hermione nodded. "I know. Seems like longer."
The wizard stopped suddenly after clearing the groupies. "Look, I won't pretend I know how these things are supposed to work, but I think at some point exclusivity becomes an issue."
Hermione stared at him. "You want to be… a couple?" she said, finishing the thought he had interrupted a few moments earlier. "Exclusively?"
She had never seen his composure falter like this before, and it was slightly unnerving to say the least.
"Only if you want to. I know it's soon, and I'm probably freaking you out, but I just don't want to…"
The witch stopped him with a quick kiss. "You're rambling."
Sirius grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I do that a lot."
Hermione laughed. And then she considered the unanswered question lingering between them. The flutter in her stomach when she saw him, the amazing sex, the way he looked after her, the happiness she hadn't felt in so long…
There really wasn't much to consider after all.
"Let's do this, then. The relationship thing, I mean," she added needlessly.
Sirius' eyes suddenly seemed brighter and he transitioned smoothly back into his usual demeanor. "Great, cool!" He let out a deep breath. "Gods, that was an awkward conversation. Home then?"
"Home," Hermione agreed, giggling. His grip on her hand was much tighter and more assured as they walked through the darkness to his ancestral abode.
Once they reached Grimmauld Square, Sirius murmured, "The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at 12 Grimmauld Place." The house slowly pushed its way between numbers 11 and 13, and Sirius pulled the door open for Hermione.
Though it was past eleven o'clock, the house was still bustling with activity. The twins could be heard creating explosions and subsequent odd aromas in the drawing room, undoubtedly a Wheezes project. A couple of some Order member's young children, perhaps six or seven years old, were chasing each other through the hallways on miniature broomsticks, giggling delightedly. The door to the kitchen was open, and Mrs. Weasley's latest baking endeavor had managed to mostly disguise the smell of whatever the twins were cooking up.
As people moved through the hallway talking amongst themselves, time seemed to freeze for Sirius and Hermione. It was as if everyone else was going in slow motion, voices muffled and people blurred.
"You want to go somewhere quiet?" Sirius asked in a low tone. Hermione nodded and, taking his hand, followed him upstairs to the fourth floor. However, instead of continuing down to Sirius' room once they had reached the landing, the wizard turned, wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist, and Disapparated away from Grimmauld Place.
Hermione hadn't been expecting the Apparation at all and was incredibly confused when they reached their apparent destination. They were standing in what appeared to be the unlit entrance hall of a large flat.
"Welcome to my home," Sirius murmured, not taking his hands from Hermione's waist.
"I thought Grimmauld Place was your home," she replied, her eyes adjusting to the dark.
Sirius snorted. "Certainly not. Never was, never will be." He walked down the hall and into a room on the right, taking Hermione with him.
The room was immersed in light as Sirius hit a switch, and Hermione found herself in a large kitchen. Sirius walked to the counter against the far wall and dug in the cabinet beneath it, emerging with a bottle of whiskey and two lowball glasses. He filled them halfway with ice and poured the whiskey over it.
"I bought this place a couple years ago and kept it in Remus' name," he explained, pushing one glass across the island counter to Hermione. "And since the Ministry came to their senses and realized I was innocent, I've switched it to my name and spent most nights and weekends here."
Hermione took a large sip of the whiskey. "So that's where you disappear to," she said thoughtfully.
Sirius picked up his glass and walked across the room to stand behind Hermione, once again slipping an arm around her chest, his lips grazing gently over her neck.
The witch shuddered and let her eyes fall shut, moaning softly as his mouth ghosted over her tender skin. Whiskey forgotten on the counter, she turned in his embrace and pressed her lips onto his lower neck, biting down gently at first and a bit harder when he growled appreciatively.
Hermione shrugged off Sirius' blazer and began walking him back out into the hallway, hoping she would be able to navigate him into the bedroom. Luckily he took the hint and scooped her off her feet, carrying her into another room on the far left.
Not bothering to turn on a light, Sirius deposited her on a bed covered with a plush scarlet duvet and several gold pillows. He stepped away for a moment to light a couple of candles, whose sandalwood scent wafted toward Hermione's nose.
Once the candles were lit, Sirius reached into a cabinet at the end of the bed and pulled out an old vinyl album. He placed it on a turntable on the mahogany dresser and turned it on, the sound of Eric Clapton's magic fingers filling the room.
Appreciative though she was for the mood music and lighting, Hermione was becoming rather impatient. She slipped off the bed and walked to where Sirius stood admiring her, and then gently pushed him back on the edge of the bed.
Her shirt tossed to the floor, Hermione proceeded to crawl up Sirius' body, caressing his smooth chest as she bent down to trace the line of his jaw with her tongue. He growled lustily and pulled at the back of her thighs to bring her closer.
Hermione pulled back and slid down so that she could unbutton his jeans and tug them off, joining her shirt in a pool on the floor. His black boxers soon followed, and Hermione smiled smugly at Sirius' intake of breath.
The wizard rolled her over gently, brushing his lips against hers and kissing along her bra line. Reaching behind her, he unclasped the bra and pulled the material over her head.
Sirius' strong hands roamed tenderly over Hermione's body, as if he were trying to memorize each curve and crevice. She licked her lips, hungry for more contact as the sandalwood candles and soft music increased her need.
With a fiery kiss, Sirius nudged her legs apart and slid into Hermione's core. She gave a throaty moan and lifted her hips up to increase the contact. He gave a guttural groan, picking up his pace but still savoring each plunge with a look of unadulterated bliss.
Between the deep, perfectly angled thrusts, the romantic atmosphere, and Sirius' eyes smoldering into her own, Hermione knew she wouldn't last long. Her hips and legs began to tremble as her orgasm built up inside her. After a few seconds of Hermione's muscles fiercely milking him, Sirius came with a cry that he stifled in Hermione's lips.
Hermione smiled sleepily as she relished the weight of Sirius' body on top of her own. She rubbed his back tenderly as they both came down off their high and let their furiously pumping hearts slow down to normal.
Sirius rolled slowly but carefully off Hermione, reluctant to lose the warmth of her body under his own, and quickly enveloped her in his arms against his chest.
The witch sighed happily and snuggled her head into the crook of her lover's neck, too sleepy to move as Sirius pulled the duvet over their warm, damp bodies. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Goodnight."
Too exhausted to even speak, she simply squeezed him tighter and tried to get as close as possible to his body without performing some kind of spell to melt into or fuse with him. She fell asleep with him softly stroking her temple with a loving thumb.
The sun had just barely risen above the horizon when Hermione woke up the next morning. With a small yawn, she removed herself from Sirius' chest and got out of bed, shivering at the cool morning air on her naked body. Sirius continued to sleep peacefully, and instead of waking him to ask where the bathroom was, she set out to find it herself.
There was a door on her side of the bed, and Hermione quietly opened it to find a large bathroom, complete with a glass-door shower with a bench, an eight-jet bathtub, and, of course, a toilet and sink. The witch found the linen closet next to the sink and pulled out a fluffy blue towel, feeling it would be a bit presumptuous to use the ones hanging on the rod over the toilet.
She walked to the shower, the white tile floor chilly beneath her bare feet, and turned on the warm water before hanging her towel over the glass wall and stepping inside.
Though she had tried to make it a quick enough shower to be able to crawl back under the covers when she finished, Hermione stepped back into the bedroom to find the bed empty and made up again. Frowning, she pulled on her clothes from the previous night and, praying that her hair wasn't horrifically bushy again, walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway.
Sirius wasn't hard to find - the smell of sizzling bacon, eggs, and toast led Hermione straight into the kitchen, where she found the wizard cooking breakfast in just a pair of jeans.
"Morning," he greeted, kissing her deeply before returning to the bacon. "Sleep well?"
"Very," Hermione said, watching him cook. He didn't really seem the cooking type; she had assumed Kreacher or Mrs. Weasley did all of the cooking. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your bathroom. I had to get the smell of smoke out of my hair."
"Not at all," Sirius said cheerfully. "You always smell good to me, though."
Hermione smiled bashfully and sat on a stool at the island counter. Sirius pushed a few pieces of bacon and a hearty pile of toast and eggs onto two plates, set one in front of Hermione, and took the other to the stool next to her, onto which he hoisted himself.
"Thanks for cooking," Hermione said as she constructed a sandwich out of the foodstuffs. "Thanks for everything, actually."
Sirius smiled and shrugged modestly. "I'm glad you gave me a chance. I mean, I know I don't have the best reputation, but…" He shrugged again. "Anyway, I'm just glad you're here."
Hermione blushed and focused intently on the breakfast sandwich she had started. "Well, it isn't as if I hadn't wondered… Er, that is, I've always thought…" She turned an even brighter shade of red, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Sirius smirking at her obvious discomfort. "I'vealwaysfanciedyouabit," she finally blurted out, snapping a piece of bacon rather enthusiastically.
Sirius laughed and kissed her cheek. "Well, that was sufficiently awkward," he said, getting back to his food. "That's enough confessions for now, I think."
"Agreed," Hermione said, finally allowing herself a sheepish smile.
The next few months, while a bit hectic, were quite enjoyable. In fact, Hermione thought they were the best time she had had since her fifth year at Hogwarts, when Umbridge's tyrannical rule had darkened the school's days.
In late May, she, Harry, and Ron had belatedly sat their NEWTs and Hermione had, of course, earned the highest scores Hogwarts had ever churned out. Even Harry and Ron had received very decent grades, which finally allowed them to complete their Auror training. The two boys were almost always at the training facility, and most of their free time was spent sleeping, eating, or playing Quidditch.
Harry proposed to Ginny in mid-June, much to the delight of the Weasley clan, though Ron seemed a bit weirded-out at the idea of his best friend becoming his brother-in-law. Ginny, who had always felt a bit smothered by the number of kin she had, and Harry, who had always felt his family lacking, compromised on a wedding with only immediate family and very close friends in attendance.
Sirius and Hermione had continued their under-the-radar romance, their dates ranging from wings and wine at local pubs to trips to St. Tropez to soak up the rays at the beach. Though they made no real effort to conceal the relationship, their observation of the pressure of Harry and Ginny's engagement and their worry over everyone's reaction to the May-December affair convinced them to try to be discreet. However, a few days before Harry's birthday, Ron blew their secret out of the water.
He had been moping about the house since Harry and Ginny's engagement, presumably since he didn't have a love life of his own and his famous best friend was once again upstaging him. The redhead had approached Hermione in a tipsy haze in an attempt to win her back, since their sordid affair had ended on a slightly sour note after Voldemort's fall. To make a long story short, Hermione had ultimately ended up hexing Ron with boils in an unpleasant area and telling him she had a real man now.
Needless to say, the news had spread like wildfire throughout the house and the Order. Harry had been shocked, though not upset; Ron had thrown Sirius scathing looks whenever they met; Ginny and Remus were nonplussed; and everyone else really didn't pay it any mind. Mrs. Weasley had looked less than enthused but seemed unwilling to risk yet another grudge between herself and Sirius.
Reflecting on the revealing of their relationship while snuggled against Sirius on the library couch, Hermione decided it made cuddle time much more abundant now that they didn't have to find a relatively quiet place in which to do it.
"Sirius," Hermione piped up, setting her book aside.
"Mm?" Sirius continued scanning his newspaper, his left hand absently stroking Hermione's shoulder.
"I love you."
"I love you too." He squeezed her closer to him. "What's on your mind?"
Hermione pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Let's go somewhere."
"Anywhere in particular?"
"Somewhere cold."
Sirius finally looked up from the paper. "Cold?"
Hermione nodded. "It's too hot here in July. Plus, just think of all the time we'll have to spend alone in front of the fire to keep warm," she added suggestively. "All alone, in a cabin on a mountain, with a plush rug by the fireplace…"
The wizard hummed appreciatively. "I think that's a brilliant idea," he said, tossing his paper onto the floor and kissing Hermione warmly. "Go grab whatever you'll need, and I'll call up an old friend in Greenland."
No one saw Hermione or Sirius for a week, but with a wedding to plan, the house was busy enough that no one took much notice. However, when the two finally did return, they all noticed several things.
The couple had snow in their hair. They were carrying fur-lined parkas and magazines written in Danish. And Hermione had a large chunk of ice on her ring finger and a gigantic smile on her face.
A/N: Well, I certainly hope you all had fun reading this bit of fluff! It was a bunny that haunted me for weeks, so I simply had to feed and indulge it.
Please review; I'm a bit needy :-)
And remember, check my AFF page if you're of age to read a much better version of this story!
Thanks to all of you who have already reviewed – I love you all so much! I love to write, and I love knowing that other people love that I love to write. Complicated, yes, but true. Bottom line: thank you for reading!