Sirius Black and the Exhibitionistic Engagement
Or, Sirius Black and the Public Sex Proposal
Sirius had always been a very sexual being, or at least he had been before Azkaban and was gradually starting to be one again. There wasn't a lot to do around Grimmauld Place while the war was still going on, at least for Sirius, and he was left to his own devices more often than not, which eventually meant plenty of masturbation time. He even offered himself to Remus (they had had a thing before Azkaban, long before), but Remus was into his cousin Nymphadora and didn't, in all honesty, seem to be all that interested anyway, which really helped Sirius with his self-image, yes siree. Yep.
After a few wayward hints to Kingsley, who also didn't seem interested, and even a serious consideration of sleeping with McGonagall, since Nymphadora was out (his cousin, but not a very close cousin), a very frustrated Sirius Black continued to waste his youth away with pulls at a sometimes-overworked cock and dreams that kept him just this side of insanity.
He let himself consider everyone but the children, Molly Weasley (okay, well, there was that one fantasy, but...), and the old coots that probably couldn't still get it up, not even for the divinely sexy Sirius Black. Alright, so he was a mess, in actuality, but it wasn't his fault his life had gone to hell.
The arseholes at the Ministry certainly hadn't helped him out. He was still on the run. Even Harry had more freedom than he did! Oh, sometimes he got taken around a bit—it was called being out for a walk, like he really was the dog he could change into. But he still had this urge to find someone to hump (or to be humped by). Everyone had been so overworked during the war that he hadn't even gotten a pity fuck thrown at him. Not even from Remus!
He'd even been about to ask Dumbledore, a well-known (if unconfirmed) homosexual centenarian, and complete arsehole, when the news came that Snape had killed him. As if he'd needed another reason to want revenge on Severus Snape!
And then the war had been over, and Voldemort had been defeated, and he'd listened to everyone recount tales of battles and strategies and plans he'd had no part in, and he'd eventually just holed himself up with Buckbeak.
"It's true, he's still on our side," Harry had tried to explain. And only after plenty of coaxing and hearing it from many different mouths did Sirius finally have to accept it. Sort of. But like that mess about Snape was the big issue anyway; his freedom was what he wanted! He tried not to think about freedom too much, though. Everyone seemed to still have better things to do than think about him.
At least there was some fresh meat, though. Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley were both of age. Finally. But, it didn't much matter, he conceded to another side of himself about, because Hermione was mourning Ron, and Ginny was too much like Molly for Sirius's tastes.
He couldn't really blame anyone for forgetting about him. Remus even gave him that guilty face of old. With any luck, he'd waste away sooner rather than later. It was in this spirit he still drank a lot. Mundungus hung around sometimes. It was pathetic that the friend he spent the most time with only wanted to pilfer the family heirlooms.
But soon, things took a brighter turn. Harry lived with him for a while, and that helped take the edge off his lust, his loneliness, and his apathy. It was all still there, but at least it was hiding. It got better, though; it did.
One morning, Harry was in his doorway, beaming and holding hands with Hermione, who had a similar expression on her face.
"What?" Sirius had to smile a little too. "What is it? Spill."
"You're free," Harry said in a rush. "Hermione made sure you got free."
Sirius couldn't feel his body for a moment. Feeling suddenly dizzy, he swallowed, then cleared his throat. "Free?"
Hermione jumped forward and grasped Sirius to her tightly, ignoring his slightly unwashed smell, tearing up a little. "I think you sacrificed more than most did," she whispered. She finally pulled back, standing next to Harry again. "Oh, yes, there was one more thing."
"I've offered for Hermione to stay here for a while."
"And I said only if it was alright with you," Hermione said, wiping a single tear from her eye.
Sirius took a moment to collect himself, a slight grin slowly forming. "Of course. Of course it is. Yes. Hermione...thank you. You can stay as long as you want. Don't know why you'd want to, but you can all the same."
She nodded and smiled that little smile of hers that he'd always found quite attractive. As she left, and as Harry embraced him before following her, he felt maybe it wasn't such a good idea to have her living there after all. Unless, of course, it was a very good idea indeed.
He shook himself. It wasn't like him to be practical, but... The girl—okay, woman—was young enough to be his daughter, absolutely brilliant, gorgeous as his old flying motorbike, and, to Sirius's knowledge, still mourning the death of a sweet boy. So, he was sick, and if he wasn't sick, he was just pathetic.
Ah, but when had that stopped him before? He decided he had to try, at least. She was a bright, interesting, caring girl. She was just the kind of thing he needed (as well as thirteen years of his life back, a good shower, and a flying motorbike, but, hey, you can't have everything).
Only problem was, how was he going to go about it?
Well, it was clear that Sirius wasn't the person he had been the last time he'd had a date with anything besides a dementor or Mundungus Fletcher (at times, he asked himself which was worse). He'd lost a lot of his looks and his youth. He had no trouble admitting he was a vain man, and always had been. And he wasn't as foolhardy as he once was. That could be good, but it also meant he didn't jump into even positive things nearly as often. Not that he'd had anything positive to jump into, until now.
He kept resolving himself to do something, anything. Which was why he casually asked Hermione how she was dealing with "you-know-who's" passing.
"What, Voldemort?" said Harry, looking startled as he nearly choked on a bite of English muffin.
Hermione and Sirius both gave Harry the same look before Hermione turned to Sirius. "It's getting easier. Swallow, Harry," she added, glancing back at Harry.
Harry took a gulp of milk. "Oh, Ron."
"How's Ginny doing?" Sirius asked Harry.
"I think she's starting to cope too. I mean, she never acted too much like it bothered her—she likes to act all tough—but she seems to be less...empty. Does that make sense?"
"Absolutely," said Sirius. He turned back to Hermione. "When do you think you'll start dating again?"
Harry choked again. Hermione shot Harry an annoyed glance. "I guess I forgot to mention that you need to chew as well. As for dating...," she paused, trailing off into thought. "I mean, it's not like I haven't thought about it. I just haven't seen any reason to really consider it until now. I suppose it's been several months since. I really did love Ron, you know, but I think it helped that we hadn't been together for that long. Of course, he was one of my two best friends." She looked down at her plate. "My two very best friends."
So that was a resounding no, then, Sirius supposed. "Let's talk about something else," he suggested helpfully.
"Yes, that's probably...yes, something else." She collected herself.
"Fleur's pregnant," Harry offered, shrugging.
"Bill's French girl?"
"French wife," Hermione corrected.
"That's great," Sirius said with a small smile. Despite the silly and rebellious image, he'd always liked babies. He glanced at Harry, remembering what he was like all those years ago. "Harry made a sweet baby. Cried a lot at night, though."
Hermione smiled to see Sirius talk about Harry. Both seemed get sucked in by the image of James and Lily and Sirius, all of the marauders, all playing with baby Harry. "Did they make you change my diapers?" Harry asked, somehow unable to imagine the Sirius of Snape's Pensieve memory changing a diaper.
"Sometimes. Only a couple times, though. Probably one of the reasons I thought you were so sweet. Maybe if I'd changed you more..."
Harry grinned at Sirius.
That night, Sirius went downstairs to grab a midnight bite when he saw Hermione, occupying one the large chairs in the sitting room and hunched over something in only the light of a single candle. She didn't notice him approach, and, after a moment's hesitation, he sat in the chair next to her.
Hermione wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Hi, Sirius," she said in a voice that shook a little.
He paused, wanting to comfort her, and not really knowing how. "Can I see?" he said, nodding to the object she had hunched over, which turned out to be a photograph.
She nodded, handing it over, their fingers brushing in the process. He took a good look at it. It was a moving photograph, with Harry and Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Neville, who looked like the Longbottoms and had given Sirius a chance to get inside the common room in Harry's third year.
The common room certainly hadn't changed much from his time as a student, especially judging from the photograph, which was set in it (he hadn't gotten a proper look the last two times, what with thoughts of Harry's safety occupying his head). They all looked to be having fun and goofing around, except...except Ron, because it seemed that they were all teasing him. He looked petulant and adorable, and almost like he was just about to rage with that redheaded Weasley temper.
Sirius stood, setting the picture down on the chair. He offered a hand to Hermione. "Quick bite to eat?"
Wiping at her eyes again, she nodded.
After a quick hearing at the Ministry just to receive his title of freedom, which had been won for him without his knowledge, he came home to a nice celebration with a lot of the Order members and, of course, his two housemates. For once, it was everyone else drinking instead of him. Until he realized Hermione looked just too cute in her dress and had a couple gobletsful. You know, just to take the edge off. Just to make him slur a little. Of course, drinking just made him less subtle in his glances at Hermione.
"She's lonely, you know," Arthur Weasley said as he stood next to Sirius, having caught on to where Sirius was glancing.
"She's amazing," Sirius admitted. "Amazing. But I think her heart still belongs to Ron."
"It might be good for her to start dating again. And you're a friend, you know, not a complete stranger. And I'm sure if she couldn't handle it, you'd be more than understanding, wouldn't you?"
Sirius let out a quiet bark of laughter. "I think everyone would understand."
Arthur put a gentle hand on his shoulder and left to grab a quick drink of his own.
Sirius couldn't help but smile dumbly as he watched Harry and Hermione dance, among a few other couples. Maybe Harry was what she needed. Sirius always thought Harry was more like a brother to Hermione, and that the feeling was mutual, but that could have just been desperate hope talking, because if the two of them started fucking in Grimmauld Place, he would just die. And he wouldn't have the heart to kick them out either. He might be a best man again, and then he'd be changing more diapers, and then he'd die alone, secretly harboring this petty grudge against the new Potters.
And then Ginny cut in, and he breathed a sigh of relief, remembering that Ginny and Harry were still going strong.
Arthur came back to his side. "Before she sits down again, or before someone else does," he said with a nod to the dance floor. That was all the encouragement Sirius needed.
Handing Arthur his goblet, he stepped forward and offered Hermione his hand. She beamed at him and accepted the offer, and they started to move. He grinned when she looked pleasantly surprised at his dancing skills. He may have been cooped up in Azkaban for thirteen long years, but that didn't mean he'd lost all of his skills. He'd always been quite a good dancer, whether dancing formally or...absolutely filthily.
He spun her and dipped her and moved her around the small portion of the room meant for dancing, even after Harry and Ginny stopped. A few more couples spent some time dancing as well, but no one really lived up to the two, who looked to be having a blast. By the time they finally stopped, both were flushed from the exertion. Sirius encouraged Hermione to sit and brought her a little cake and some mead.
"Thanks," she said, still grinning.
"You kept up well," he said, nodding to Arthur as Arthur handed him back his own goblet.
"You moved so...nicely," she said breathlessly.
"See? I'm not so old," he said.
"No, I don't suppose you are," she said, giving him a quick glance. Then she quickly took a bite of the cake.
Sirius spent the rest of the evening mingling, stealing glances at her all the while.
Sirius went out shopping for clothes, and he brought her along, just to make sure he didn't make some, you know, faux pas. He was a bit out of touch after, what, a decade and a half of being off the scene, and on top of that he'd passed 40. Lovely.
She was warm and encouraging as always and, really, even if she didn't want to date him (which was possible, but he suspected she was showing all the right signs), he felt they could still be friends, provided Harry didn't date her. Otherwise he'd move out, which wasn't a bad idea in the first place, but.
She soon had him flushing like a school boy with some quick compliments to his appearance in the new robes, which he purchased, along with some boots, and he even purchased some modern dress robes just to appease her, since he didn't have any.
"No proper man should be caught without dress robes. You don't have any excuse, now that you're free. You didn't look particularly together at that hearing, you know." She lowered her voice slightly. "I'm sure you can do better."
Sirius had blinked in surprise, not used to this side of Hermione being aimed at him. "Alright, I'll buy them," he said, still a little stunned. He didn't even mention he wasn't out to look like a "proper man", because, for once, he almost wanted to.
"Heaven knows it'll be good to get you out of that blasted house," she went on as they left the store. Suddenly, she turned to him, the bag with his new dress robes in it in her hand. "We could do an opera, or something. I'm sure you've been; you're from an old-fashioned family."
"I don't know," he said skeptically. "It's not that interesting. In fact, I always wanted to poke out my own ear drums. One time I made myself sick up so I could stay at home."
Hermione shook her head slightly, looking both disgusted and amused. "Well, there's got to be somewhere you can wear these. They're a good bargain for dress robes, but they still cost a lot."
"I know, I was there," Sirius said, taking the bag from her. "Have you been to the wizarding theatre at all?" he asked her, sighing when she shook her head. "Okay, we'll go."
"Really?" she smiled shyly.
"As long as you can live up to the beauty of me in these dress robes, yeah."
"It might be hard," she teased. "But, hey, I'm a Gryffindor. I've got to try."
"You're going on a date with Sirius?"
"Shh!" Hermione hissed, looking around, relaxing once she knew they were alone. "It's just the opera, Harry. It's not a big deal."
"My best friend and my godfather are going to the opera together, and it's not a big deal?"
Hermione tsked and kept getting ready.
"Well, so? Is it a date?"
"No! At least, I don't think so. Well, it shouldn't matter to you anyway. Neither of us answer to you, Harry," she said angrily, accidentally smudging her eye makeup and waving her wand to fix it.
"I know, I know. It's just...weird for me. I mean, so it's not a date. Would you wish it was? Do you...like him?"
"Harry!"
"Well, I mean, do you?"
Hermione sighed, turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Alright, Harry. If you're asking if I would accept an offer for a date, I guess my answer would be yes. And I think he likes me."
Harry groaned. "Only problem is, I think so too."
"No matter what, I'm getting him out of this house," she announced, shutting her compact for emphasis.
The best thing about watching the opera, Sirius decided, was watching Hermione watch the opera. Even the classic magic special effects that showed up here and there made her fidget slightly in that excitable way of hers he simply knew she must have portrayed in classes back at Hogwarts. He was only half paying attention to the story on the stage, but he was fully paying attention to the story of the woman in the next chair. This was absolutely money well spent.
He didn't even mind too horribly that Narcissa recognized him at intermission and buddied up to him, saying he simply must sit with her and Draco in the balcony for the second act.
"Rather choke on a Horklump." He glanced at Hermione, who seemed slightly disappointed in him at this answer. "Tell you what, though. If my friend is allowed with me," Draco's face scrunched up in disgust and Narcissa did one of her haughty sniffs, "I'll let you pay for part of our tickets next time and we'll talk about old times. I mean, you're all reformed, for the most part, aren't you? Even Lucy? Where's Lucy?"
"Lucius," Narcissa emphasized lightly, "is waiting up in the balcony. Draco, would you bring your father a drink? That's a good boy, Draco," she said, watching as he did so reluctantly, obviously wanting to see the rest of the conversation between his mother and Sirius Black.
"What about my offer? What do you say?" Hermione winced at the arrogance of the statement after he said this, but seemed to know Narcissa would not revoke an invitation if it made her appear petty.
"Very well. You're welcome to choose whichever performance you'd like. They have a few plays and a symphony coming up, you know. Well, alright, you wouldn't know. But, all the same, they do."
"Oh, no, you're obviously much more cultured. You choose. Just send us the tickets and we'll join you in your balcony. I do so love to be higher than everyone else. The Black way, right?" He spat the name Black.
"Very well," Narcissa said tightly.
"Thank you," Hermione said humbly to Narcissa in the awkward silence. "We really appreciate it. Is Lucius alright?"
Narcissa seemed to relax a little, turning from the challenging tone she and Sirius had reserved for each other to her one of slightly-more-genuine forced politeness. "It's getting much better, thank you."
Hermione glanced at the clock on the wall. "I think we'd all better get back. Pleased to see you, Narcissa. Say the same to Draco."
Narcissa nodded slightly as Hermione turned back to the entrance, tugging Sirius along with her.
Sirius huffed as they sat down again. "Why did you just bow to her like that?" It was Narcissa who should have bowed! Hermione was twelve times the woman Narcissa was, ever was, and ever would be.
"Being polite is not the same as bowing down to someone. There's a little thing called manners. I know you have them, you just choose not to use them. But that doesn't mean I have to do the same, whether this is a date or not."
Sirius paused and looked at her, and she looked back, eyes glinting slightly with anger. Then her cheeks pinked a little, as if she was fully realizing what she'd just said. "Which one is it?" he asked, finally.
Hermione opened her mouth to reply, but the lights turned off all of a sudden and she shrugged and turned back toward the stage.
Sometime after the song after the next and sometime before the one after that, Sirius reached for Hermione's hand. All of a sudden he was paying a little attention to the stage too. He relaxed and tried to enjoy it for Hermione's sake as she gave his hand a light squeeze. Maybe sitting next to Lucy, Narcissa, and their ponce of a son wouldn't be too horrible after all.
Harry was waiting up for them like a concerned parent, noticing the way they Flooed back holding hands, which they quickly released from each other, almost guiltily. Sirius was going to try for a kiss, but not now. He could take that rejection, normally, but not when it would happen in front of Harry.
"How was it?" Harry asked, looking from one to the other and trying to ignore any "sparks" between the two.
"It was wonderful! And we'll get to go to something else and sit in the balcony."
"Of course, the Malfoys and little Malfoy junior will be there, so they're actually the worst seats in the house."
"But it's free," Hermione pointed out.
"True."
"But, honestly, is it worth sitting next to the Malfoys?" Harry asked, looking slightly amused. At least it wasn't him being forced to go.
"I certainly think so," said Hermione in a cheerful, but final way, as if there was no arguing against it. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get out of this thing," she said, fussing with her dress a little as she lifted it to go up the stairs. "Thanks for the night out, Sirius. I think I probably needed it as much as you did."
"Anytime," he called up to her. Then he scowled, sitting next to Harry. "I hope that cousin of mine chooses anything but another opera. I despise listening to them. Always did. At least Hermione enjoyed herself, though."
"I can tell. She looks so...happy. Like she did at the Yule Ball, before Ron made her cry."
"He did?"
"Well, I suppose he was just jealous. Madly jealous."
"I guess you can't blame him much."
Harry nodded. "She's...she's a really beautiful girl."
"Woman."
"Woman, then. Be careful with her, Sirius. I mean, I know you're my godfather, but Hermione is—"
"Hermione is special," Sirius finished. "I know. I don't know who I'm fooling anyway, though. Would you date me?" Harry put on a horrified expression, and Sirius quickly added, "Don't answer that. I meant, if you were Hermione, would you date me?"
"Oh." Harry glanced at the stairs Hermione had gone up, as if to check if she was eavesdropping. "Well, apparently I would, because she said she would be willing to go out on a date."
"She did?" Sirius smiled slightly.
"I swear it."
Sirius stood, patting Harry's shoulder. "Thank you, for telling me."
"Well, if you two are going to start something, just start it already. I'm not going to wait on the edge of my seat for it to happen or not."
"Night, Harry. Go to bed."
Sirius removed his dress robes and carefully put them away, impressed with how well they had suited him. If there was anything Hermione couldn't do, he didn't know what that thing was yet. And then his mind strayed. He wondered what other sort of things she was good at. What sort of improper things.
In just a pair of socks and his underwear, he sat back on the bed. After everyone had moved out, Buckbeak had been moved to another room, and he enjoyed being able to pull one off without the fear of Buckbeak's claws and beak just across the room from his manly bits. The blood stains from ferrets and the...other stains, as well as (most of) the stench of the animal had all come out and the room looked more or less like it had before he left. Back when he was 16 again.
He felt 16 again, in more ways than one, because now that Hermione was there, she sort of cancelled out the effect Harry had had on him in keeping his libido at bay. He actually had a chance, however meager, with this amazing woman. He pushed his pants down to his knees and lubed his hand up.
The first touch of cool palm to hot cock made him inhale sharply through his nose. He was lying on his back, which was one of his favorite positions to do this in for a number of reasons. The first being that all there was was him and the ceiling and he could just enjoy. If he sat up, he'd be able to see the posters of women on his walls more clearly. They were nice and all, but he preferred being lost in a fantasy to just being lost in someone's appearance.
Trailing fingertips up and down his length, he wondered if she and Ron had gotten up to anything. He remembered what his own school days were like and decided they probably had.
But, he reminded himself, curling his fingers around his filling cock, giving it a couple nice, long pulls, Hermione was a girl who believed in her convictions, and probably would not have given into any temptations.
He paused all thought to simply enjoy the feel of practiced fingers on his heated length. He moaned softly as he felt his fingers rub and tug and grip in exactly the way he told them to. So there was nothing spontaneous about masturbation. It still got him off, didn't it?
Back to Hermione. She liked sticking to her convictions, and he was sure she believed sex was special, but she was also one of those feministic types, and maybe she'd had sex with Ron after all. It probably wasn't very good sex, Sirius thought, and then pinched the head of his cock until he jerked slightly for thinking ill of the dead, but they might have had it all the same. And it would have been special. Two first times.
As far as being in bed with someone, Sirius wasn't exactly new merchandise. In fact, he had been beginning to think he'd passed his sell-by date before Hermione came along. He smoothed more lubricant over the head of his prick, massaging it in supplication for his earlier rough treatment. His cock had always served him well, after all. It's just that he couldn't have reached his brain to do the pinching to it instead. Cock, brain, they were all about the same right now, weren't they?
He used to be a real hot thing back in the day. He chose who he slept with and went out with very carefully (okay, at least somewhat carefully), but he definitely hadn't been short on stamina or ideas. He'd been quite adventurous too.
He'd even let this one Slytherin girl with a pussy that gripped like magic tie him up with a variant of Incarcerous and fuck him silly, up and down on top of him, until he admitted Slytherins were better than Gryffindors. Anything for a fuck, right? Back then, at least.
He started to really get into a nice rhythm on his lubed up cock. Trailing his free hand's fingers down to roll his balls a little, he put everything on hold for a moment to cover the tips of the fingers that weren't making love to his prick with a bit of lubricant. Pulling his legs up, parting them for his hand, he closed his eyes.
Acting out the second reason this position was a very good one indeed, he closed his eyes and let the first finger inside with a groan, feeling the hot, smooth insides of his arse. He knew it wouldn't be much longer, hearing the small sounds come from his throat as he panted, feeling how tensed and ready he was, feeling his hand speed up as if of its own accord.
The explosion was as intense as the term should indicate, and he moaned, still on his back, sticky, eyes glazed, finger up his arse. He sat up on his elbow to grab his wand for a shaky, pleased clean-up when he realized his door was open a bit. And, not only that, but Hermione was looking right at him.
"Ah!" He yanked the finger out of his arse, scrabbled for his wand, and closed and locked the door with a single wave.
Hermione turned around, leaning back against the door, letting it support her. She quivered with arousal. Listening to sounds of what she assumed were Sirius getting dressed, and then, finally, silence, she had herself calmed down enough to think rationally.
Sirius had assumed she'd be floors away, if not out of the house entirely by then, and was trying to imagine a way to make everything okay again when there was a knock at the door.
"Sirius. It's alright." She knocked on the door again, lightly. "You don't have to be embarrassed."
"Easy for her to say," he grumbled to himself.
Hermione turned the doorknob, but the door was locked. She rattled it a little more, stopping when Sirius sent a light shock through it with his wand, waving the sensation off her hand. "Ow!" She took the hint and huffed as she walked back to her room. All she'd wanted was to offer him a goodnight kiss! But then, of course, she'd gotten to see something slightly better. Shocking. But better.
Harry didn't know what happened, only that something had, because Sirius wasn't talking to Hermione, and Hermione had had to give up talking to Sirius after that, which was confusing enough because Harry would have expected it to be the other way around. Mainly, Sirius seemed embarrassed, which was more or less a new thing as well, and Harry had stopped trying to guess after a while. They wouldn't tell him, so he probably didn't actually want to know.
He did lose his cool at dinner one night though, standing. "You two are adults! Whatever happened, I'm sure you can be adults about that too! I'm going to go and see what Neville's up to, and by the time I come back, you two had better be all...made up." He looked at the two of them as they gave him the same exact expression, wide-eyed. "So...think on that," he said more quietly, finding his coat and leaving for Neville's.
It was deathly silent in the room before Hermione finally burst into an apology. "I'm sorry! I should have left when I saw what you were...but it took me by surprise, and then, then my feet didn't seem to work, and then you were finished, and I should have left since there wasn't anything left to see, but...you looked so..."
"Pathetic?" Sirius said bitterly. "Pitiful."
"No!" Hermione said angrily. "Don't you dare put words in my mouth."
He looked down at his plate.
"You looked beautiful. Alright?" she said, almost in a whisper.
Sirius's head jerked back up and he stared at her.
Hermione suddenly looked down at her plate, much as Sirius had.
"I didn't know the door wasn't shut," he said slowly. "I'm not usually so...," he coughed, "beautiful, was it, you said?"
"You mean exhibitionistic," she said with a soft smirk, looking up at him.
"Perverse?" he suggested.
She laughed softly. "Perverse. Sirius, going to the opera and all. Was that—"
"—a date?" he finished. She nodded. "Well, if it wasn't, we've got to have our first date now, don't we?"
"I suppose that's the proper thing to do, yes," she said, smiling softly.
"For the record, even though I didn't mean for you to see...that...I'm actually definitely capable of being that exhibitionistic."
Hermione chuckled as he took his plate to the sink. "Wait, don't leave yet," she said, standing, stepping in front of him. She licked her lips gently. "I only came to your door to see if I might be able to get my goodnight kiss."
"So I owe you, do I?" He leaned down and tilted his head, pressing their lips together gently. "Goodnight," he breathed, pulling away to see that beautiful smile.
Hermione knocked on the door to Sirius's room the next evening, smiling when he let her in. She sat next to him on his bed, looking around at the posters before looking at him. "Would you like to see me do what I saw you do?"
Sirius had to pause for a moment and work that out before he nodded enthusiastically. "Are you sure, though?"
"Honestly, you think I didn't give it a lot of thought? I'm brave, not reckless."
"I bet you could be reckless."
She blushed slightly, still smiling. "Budge up," she ordered, making him roll over a bit so she could sit up properly. She slid her clothing off carefully, piece by piece, ending up naked on Sirius's ratty old bedspread. He drew in a breath as he took in the sight of her, bit by bit, as a whole, and it took him a moment to take out his wand and transform that ratty bedspread into a satin bedcover, deep red and utterly sumptuous. Just like Hermione was utterly sumptuous.
With one spell, he lifted her hips up, and with a second he slid a pillow under them, moving to get a good look, licking his lips. She shivered at the sight.
"You don't have to," he said again, eyes darting back down to where her legs were parted.
"Will you shut up?" Hermione said quietly, in what Sirius could only describe as a growl. When he didn't try to dissuade her again, she seemed to relax a little, locating his lube and putting just the smallest amount on the fingertips of her right hand, beginning to rub at her hot little sexual button. A soft sound fell from her lips and her eyes closed.
It was Sirius's turn to growl, and in a move that surprised both of them, quite frankly, he buried his head between her legs. Hermione's hand went limp and she allowed Sirius to move it away as he licked her in big, broad stripes, getting her wet, tasting her skin, needing this so badly he didn't know what he'd do if she pushed him away, but wasn't even considering that possibility at the moment. He rubbed at her thighs, groaning against her heat. "Hermione," she heard him murmur, and felt her stomach flutter even more.
If he was groaning, it was nothing to the soft sounds of pleasure he heard from her, driving him on. His tongue set to work reminding himself as much as her that he hadn't in fact gotten too rusty. Like riding a bike, he thought to himself before sucking her lips into his mouth, nipping gently.
Hermione's brown eyes were wide and unseeing, her hips gently rocking, body arching. Slowly, she curled fingers into Sirius's dark hair, letting out a shuddering breath. When he licked at the tip of her clitoris, she yelped and more or less mashed his face against her even further, making him moan, the vibration making her cry out too.
He sucked and licked gently at her clit until her cries grew frantic. Changing strategy to calm her down, he pressed the tip of his tongue into her, flicking it in and out like a tiny, pink cock, gently stretching the muscle. He reached down to adjust himself with a groan as she squirmed beneath him. A few more nips and pulls to her lips and she ground her face up into him. "Tongue me again," she panted.
As he licked at her poor, throbbing clit, she came in a crashing wave of ecstasy, shaking, groaning a mindless, breathless approval into the room. Sirius carefully, slowly cleaned her off with his tongue, causing a few slight twitches from the remarkably still woman who only moaned softly now and again.
Sirius was a little shaky himself. He managed to locate her knickers, carefully sliding them up her legs, waiting for her to raise her hips slightly so he could push them up over her arse nicely. It was when Sirius located her bra that she shook her head. "No. Sirius, no."
Sirius looked up at her, then glanced at the bra in his hands. "What?"
"You're kicking me out!"
"I'm letting you leave!" he growled in frustration.
"Well don't. I'm not leaving." She paused. "Take down your trousers." Sirius's fingers shook slightly as he let go of the bra, but he looked hesitant. "Sirius," she said a little sternly, sitting up a little, moving the pillow out from under her.
Sirius looked into her eyes, and as if they were having some sort of a contest for power that he ultimately lost, he sighed and accepted his fate with a nod.
"Lie down," she ordered, and he moaned as he did so for her, out on display, almost looking nervous, head down at the foot of the bed. Hermione sat up, lovely breasts still bare, and leaned over his body slightly.
"Now, you'll tell me if I do something wrong?" she asked softly.
"You won't," he said quickly, letting her undo the front of his trousers and slowly slide them down to his thighs, working on his pants next, biting her lip in concentration. "You'll do well," he promised, so hard by now that he wanted to scream.
Narrowing her eyes slightly in determination as she looked down at Sirius's prick, she wrapped her soft hand around it, stroking up and down slowly, glancing up at his face to judge his reaction. He was staring at her with an unchecked awe. His hot length pulsed in her hand. He wrapped his hand around hers and guided it, getting her to firm her grip and speed up her stroking a little before he threw his head back with a throaty moan and let her take it from there.
"It's so hard," she murmured, and that made Sirius groan and strain a little to look at her hand on him before laying his head back down. She gave a little squeeze, and started stroking again. "Are you going to...," she trailed off in a sweetly shy way, then seemed to become even more determined, speeding up, working him with the intent of seeing him do exactly as she wanted.
"Yes," Sirius groaned, and finally, god, finally, he was coming. With a strangled noise, and an arch of his thin hips, he was spurting. Hermione's eyes followed the spray intently, and the arch of his body, and the slight shudder, all at once, gently removing his shirt as he closed his eyes and relaxed. She wiped up the mess from her hands and from everywhere else tenderly before she lay next to him, resting her head on his chest.
Sirius finally opened his eyes again, stroking a hand through her brown, bushy hair. "That's an O in my book," he finally managed to say. Hermione grinned and let herself fall asleep there, upside-down on Sirius's bed, almost as naked as he was.
Sirius woke when Hermione shook him gently. He looked over at her with a grin that soon faded a little. He wondered if she was regretting the night before already.
But that wasn't it at all. "Let's get in the shower," she breathed, sounding excited. Sirius sat up on his side, brushing some of that wild hair behind her ear.
"A shower, eh?"
"We're both sticky," she said, practically glowing in the morning light.
"Come here," Sirius said, sitting up properly and holding out his arms. "Come." Hermione leaned forward, accepting the embrace, holding him. He stroked her hair a little more. "How do you feel about last night?" he asked.
He felt her stiffen slightly. "Why, how do you feel?" she asked, pulling back slightly to look at him. At the expression on his face, she sighed, deciding she'd have to be first. "I thought it was wonderful. I...I really like you a lot, Sirius, and I know you feel the same." She kissed his cheek gently. "Don't you?" she whispered against it.
Sirius tightened his grip on her. "Yes. Yes. I'm not much, nowadays—"
"Nonsense," he heard her whisper, feeling it against his cheek.
"—but I care for you."
"Sirius, yes, let's be lovers." She pulled back again. "I want that too."
He held her for a little while longer before cupping her cheek, pecking her on the lips, and rubbing the moisture into them when he pulled away. "Now what are you waiting for, you silly girl," he teased her, "Into the bath with you!"
It was when Sirius was in the bathroom, actually standing there, that he remembered just how thin and gaunt he was. Oh, he wasn't as bad as he was in Azkaban, but he wasn't the muscled, youthful thing he'd been before it either. Hermione was staring at his body, and when he shifted his eyes away, she stopped, placing a hand on his arm.
"I think you're handsome."
He smiled softly, making eye-contact. "I think you're a very kind-hearted woman."
"I bet I can fatten you up," she added teasingly, pinching his hip as he went to move past her, pleased to note she drew one of his barks of laughter from him. He moved to turn the water on and check the temperature as she worked her knickers off, pausing as she noticed his arse. "Very nice," she said, finishing kicking off her knickers.
Sirius turned to see what she was looking at. "What?"
"Your arse doesn't look too bony, at least," she said with a smile. "Which is nice. You like your arse played with a little, don't you?" she asked, as if she didn't think he should be at all embarrassed by speaking about such things and, since he was Sirius Black, he shouldn't have been, but he was.
"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "Alright, into the shower. Go on."
Hermione slid in and under the spray, grasping him by the hand and pulling him in too. He embraced her again under the water, making a noise of pleasant surprise when her hand strayed down to feel his arse, gently cupping a cheek. She rubbed her fingertips over it gently, teasing the flesh with the tips of nails until he broke out in a patch of gooseflesh.
"I've never touched a man's arse before," she admitted. The words seemed to make Sirius melt against her.
"Well, don't stop, you're doing fine," he teased.
"Cheeky," she mock reprimanded with a smack to the cheek that he pressed back into, sighing. Intrigued, she rubbed at the cheek, then moved to the cheek's twin, giving it a little smack as well.
"You're going to make me hot again," he said, his chest rumbling against her pleasurably.
She gazed up at him. "I know." She brought her other hand down and squeezed his arse, a cheek in each hand. He shivered.
Sirius fumbled behind himself for the faucet, turning it off, trying to pull the curtain aside and get out as quickly as possible while Hermione was still attached to him. She let go long enough to get out and cast a drying spell over them, running back into the bedroom.
"Oh no you don't!" Sirius said, following her, about to do a flying leap through the door when she shut it in his face and he had to skid to a halt and open it before arriving at the bed near her, grinning. "I don't know if anyone's told you this yet, dear, but you're trouble."
"I'm not as bad as you," she said, sitting on the bed facing him, legs under her. "Lie across my knees, then, if you want to learn your lesson." He almost asked if she was sure, but as soon as he opened his mouth, Hermione said, "Sirius, do it!" in a stern tone.
At the shocked expression on his face and his furious struggle to do just as she asked as quickly as possible, Hermione laughed softly. She guided him up over her, arse up, tracing his skin again. The room went silent for a while until she lifted her palm and slapped his pale skin. He made a noise that obviously pleased her, by the way she gently smirked, and she did it again, a bit harder, moving her hand slightly for a different spot of impact.
Sirius let out a breathy moan and dug his elbows into the bed a little more, raising himself. This encouraged Hermione, and she rained blows upon his warm backside, some light, and some with a fairly good sting. She found she could steal a low little sound from him on most impacts, and the sounds made her a little hot. The fact he was rocking slightly for her only added to the euphoria of the game they were playing.
But, probably best of all, the skin was flushing. Hermione traced a thumb over some of the pinkness, feeling the curve of his skin before she gave a squeeze like she had before in the shower, and pinched him, and rubbed at him.
"You...are naughty," he hissed in pleasure, and it earned him some more pinches and teasing touches, and he thought he might go mad of it (if he wasn't already mad, which, he wouldn't be surprised if he was).
Hermione reached between them and took his cock in her hand. He bit his lip and pressed into the motion. He had already started to leak a bit of precome. After a few strokes, she encouraged him to get up, letting go of him, sliding onto the bed under his flushed and needy body.
She located her wand and cast a protective spell inside of herself as well as over his prick. Sirius groaned, working a couple fingers into her, feeling how wet she was, how she needed him like he needed her. Hermione gently reached down and felt him again, expression suddenly a little pensive. Sirius reached to cup her cheek, telling her, "Don't be afraid." He leaned in for a kiss.
Hermione parted her lips for him, relaxing as their tongues met. He gently worked her open, stretching her with his fingers. Hermione finally nodded, breaking the kiss. She gave him a gentle squeeze. Sirius gave her a peck on the cheek and aimed his cock, carefully pressing in.
Hermione's soft hand flew up to his shoulder, her eyes fluttering as his prick stretched her. She bit her lip. It was...fairly painful. Finally, he bottomed out, and she let out her breath, the exhale ending in a slight sound.
"Alright?" He cupped her cheek and waited a bit. At her nod, he started thrusting, trying to find a nice balance between satisfying long-denied urges and making sure he wasn't hurting Hermione too badly. Her slightly-pained expression melted after a while, her shaky breathing sounding less upset, and he could tell the moment she really started enjoying it.
There she was beneath him, sharing eye contact, body contact, as they sweated together. Really, he'd never felt connected to someone during sex before, per se, but he did now. This amazing creature was trusting him, and they were going through this together.
Finally, she started rocking into his motions, arching in a gorgeous way. He traced her nipples, playing with them as he responded to her pleasure, groaning his own, her tight heat around him, caressing him, squeezing him.
Small sounds were falling from her lips as well, and she called his name, brown eyes hooded. Her legs pulled him closer, and it wasn't much longer than that that he was coming, eyes closing as he spilled inside of her, lip bitten on a deep grunt. He didn't pull out quite yet, and he felt, and then saw, Hermione move her hand down to get at her clit, moaning as she too went over the edge with a hot little squeal.
He did pull out, curling his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the middle of her chest, between her breasts. He looked up at her. They stared at each other for a long moment, catching their breath, calming down.
"I love you," he finally whispered.
Soft, somewhat clumsy fingers stroked his cheek. "Me too," she breathed.
He lay back on the bed, letting her curl up against him. A handy spell later and they were covered with the blanket, eyes closing, drifting off to sleep together in a warm world of shared body heat.
Sirius and Hermione kept glancing at each other across the breakfast table, smiling. They were only half paying attention to whatever story from the Prophet Harry was bringing up.
All of a sudden, Harry paused. "Oh my god. You fucked!"
"Harry!" Hermione spluttered.
"So what if we did?" Sirius snapped. "Is it really such a shock? Didn't ever learn about the birds and the bees?"
"Sirius," she said warningly, looking from one to the other.
"Yeah, you know why that is, too." Sirius's eyes narrowed at that, and then Harry sighed. "No, you're right. You're right; I'll just have to get used to the idea. I mean...it's like I just found out my parents were split up and started seeing new people, or something like that. And that, now, they're doing it!"
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said softly, reaching for his hand.
"But, you two have my blessing," he said quickly, "as long as I don't see anything or hear anything. I promise, I won't bring it up again."
"I'd just like to know when you became so observant," Hermione said with a soft smile.
"Oh, I think I picked it up from my best friend." He gave the hand a squeeze. "Oh! Oh yeah, an owl came this morning." Harry got up and went into the family room, delicately holding up two very fancy-looking invitations.
Sirius groaned, but he was pleased at the way Hermione eyed the silvery paper. "You know we should be mending fences," she said automatically, quietly.
"Give it here, Harry," Sirius said, wiping his fingertips on a napkin before reaching for one. "Oh, fantastic. Really. Another opera. Narcissa's 'fuck you' to her dear old cousin."
"A well-deserved 'fuck you'," Hermione pointed out, to which Sirius sulked and threw his invitation down onto a clear spot of the table.
"No one's forcing us to go, you know," she said gently.
"No, that's exactly what she wants me to do. We're going!"
"Okay, so let's go."
"We are."
"Okay."
"We're going!" Hermione glanced at Sirius, and he sighed. He eyed the date on the tickets. "I have nearly two weeks to get used to the idea anyway."
Sirius had been rummaging around the old house enough, grumbling about Kreacher under his breath (he didn't dare treat him as bad as he once might have after Hermione told him off so harshly he, Sirius Black, was actually shamed), that Hermione finally looked up from her book. "Sirius, what are you looking for?"
He whipped around as if he'd forgotten she was there. "Uh . . . my mother's—I mean father's—old cufflinks."
"Oh. I'll help you look, if you'd like."
"Don't worry about it; it's not that important."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, arguing in that single look that it certainly seemed important, what with the way he was carrying on, but Sirius clumped back up the stairs to continued searching on his own.
Later that evening, Hermione asked Kreacher to help Sirius look for whatever he was looking for. She wasn't certain she bought the cufflinks thing, unless he was just nervous to be sitting with the Malfoys. Either way, Kreacher, grumbling much like Sirius, went to aid him in his search.
"You look gorgeous," Sirius said, leaning down to peck her on the cheek as she put the finishing touches on her hair.
"I hope I look nice enough," she said finally, sighing as she eyed her reflection.
"For the Malfoys? Have you seen their ugly mugs? What do they know?"
"A lot! Certainly not everything, but they know a lot. I know this doesn't matter to you, but I feel like I have to prove that even a mudblood can have class." She paused, smiling slightly as she turned to look him up and down, accepting his hand to rise from the chair. "Where are the cufflinks?" she asked, looking down at the sleeve of his hand, which he quickly snatched away.
"I decided I made them up," he said happily. "I am mad, you know."
She looked slightly startled, but smoothed the expression over. "Yes, well, I did sort of figure that. That you made them up, I mean. Kreacher said he helped you find them."
"Ugh. Should have known it was you who sicced him on me. He did help me out quite a bit, though," he begrudgingly admitted.
That just made the blasted woman smile. "We should be off," she said, leaning up to peck him on the cheek, and all he could do was lean down so she could reach it.
Lucius was cold, Narcissa was forcedly polite, playing the little hostess, and Draco was petulant. After some very stiff introduction, in which Narcissa and Sirius (especially Sirius) seemed ready to go off at any moment, they were all seated again. Draco sat next to his father, who sat next to his mother, who sat next to her awful cousin, who sat next to—oh, gag him—Granger.
But, it was a good start, Hermione thought. There had been no blow ups from either side, at least not yet. They still had, she checked Sirius's watch, about seven more minutes till start, and then intermission.
Suddenly, Sirius got up, and Hermione and Narcissa both frowned at him in a "don't ruin this for me" kind of way. But he wasn't going anywhere. He was just getting down on one knee.
Oh, god.
Hermione felt herself sort of leave her body she was so shocked, tearing up. She numbly took his hand when he reached for hers.
He seemed to struggle for the right words for a moment. "I'm not the arrogant prick of a boy I used to be. I used to want to be free from all ties, the eternal bachelor. Even when James and Lily got hitched, I still didn't think it was for me." His eyes grew far away for a moment, and he paused. Hermione almost wondered if he was done speaking, but he wasn't.
"I spent most of the years I can remember either in Azkaban or hiding away. You'll never know how alone, how full of despair that prison can make a wizard, even an innocent one. I was barely human. Living in another prison after that, that horrible house, I was so depressed, so lonely, that I thought Azkaban might have been better. At least there was hope I'd break out of it. At Grimmauld, I'd lost my looks, my freedom, and even my will to live, half the time, having nothing to aim for. But you? You never give up on anyone." She could see him tear up too, giving his hand a little squeeze.
"You never gave up," he repeated softly. "You gave me my freedom, Hermione. You allowed me to live again—to love again. You did what magic can't do, and brought me back to life. I'm not going to stay a bachelor, not now. Marry me, Hermione Jean Granger. Don't you dare say no and break an old man's heart."
Hermione choked on the word at first, clearing her throat, furiously wiping at her eyes with her handkerchief. "Yes. Yes, Sirius! Yes, yes."
He pulled a white gold ring from his pocket, set with a big blue sapphire in the middle of yellow sapphires. She had a feeling this was what Kreacher had helped Sirius find. She watched with a watery smile as he slid it onto her finger, either just being a perfect fit, or having been magically resized. She thought she heard Narcissa make a small noise of distaste and detachedly came to the conclusion it must have been an heirloom.
Sirius sat back down, dabbing at his eyes with her handkerchief as well, pulling her close to rest against him. He glanced over at an even more stiff Narcissa and grinned, holding Hermione's hand. "Congratulations," she finally managed.
The lights went down, and the opera was soon underway. Hermione didn't seem to be paying much attention at all this time, at least not to anything but her new fiancé. She was still leaning against him, holding his hand.
Well, if neither of them was going to watch the blasted thing, they might as well make better use of their time, Sirius thought.
The thrill of her acceptance of the ring and the promise it held was still affecting his body. He was practically thrumming with energy, gently pulling her to her feet with him to go out into the lobby. Hermione was trying to make their excuses, but he just tugged her along.
Sirius looked around the lobby, making sure it was empty. A magical tray zoomed toward them, but Sirius batted it away and it returned to the bar sulkily. Place secure, Sirius turned to look at Hermione with excited grey eyes. She returned his soft smile with excited eyes of her own.
Sirius was about to offer for them to go home, when he paused, closing his mouth. He looked around at the architecture, the gleaming metal. "Let's do it," he said finally.
"Do what?"
"It. Fuck."
"Okay! Yes. I mean, it's just the Malfoys, right?" She was practically glowing. "I've got some Floo."
"Forget the Floo. Let's do it here." Sirius looked around a little more, a grin slowly forming on his face.
"Merlin. You really are mad," Hermione said mildly, as if to herself. She shook her head, laughing softly.
Sirius shook his head too. "No." He stroked a finger along her jaw, tilting her chin up so he could lean in for a kiss. "I'm exhibitionistic," he murmured against her lips, correcting her.
Hermione took in a breath sharply through her nose, wishing the man wasn't so knee-meltingly sensual. "Someone will see us."
"I want them to see us." Hermione swallowed. Sirius leaned down, breath hot against her ear as he whispered. "Just this once. If you're too embarrassed to show your face in public again, we won't have a repeat."
"If I'm too embarrassed to show my face in public again, how could there possibly be a repeat?" she finally managed.
"Exactly." He straightened up. "I guess you'll just have to get over those inhibitions of yours." He grinned. His face may have weathered a bit from Azkaban, and from age, but he still had a great smile.
"Are you sure I should have freed you? You certainly sound plenty dangerous to me," she said breathlessly, smiling when it made him bark in laughter.
"Armed and dangerous," he said, stepping toward her, stroking himself.
Hermione backed up a bit, and then stopped. "I guess I just don't understand why you'd want people to watch us...together."
Sirius stepped toward her a little more, backing her up into the pillar. She gasped when she hit it, leaning back against it. "I have this philosophy. When I've just gotten something very nice, I've always been fond of showing it off."
Hermione's face darkened, and he quickly cut her off.
"Tell me you don't want to, and we'll go home."
"I want to," she said firmly, "just not here."
Sirius sighed, seeming to lose a lot of his bounciness, and all of his glow. "Okay. I understand."
Hermione watched him slowly turn around and start in the direction of the Floo hall, looking like a kicked dog. She didn't move, biting her lip. She spent a good couple seconds running it over in her mind, though it felt longer, and, finally, she gave in. She sighed her sigh of "oh, I'm going to regret this" and took out her wand, drawing a shape in the air. Moments later, she magically tugged at his hair.
Sirius turned, seeing Hermione call him back over, grinning at what he saw. "If you aren't finished with me by intermission," she said, "you'll be in the doghouse until—"
"I will be," he said, stalking back toward her and the bed she'd just conjured.
"Honestly, you are such an idiot," she said, lying back on it and kicking off her heels.
"Mm. Maybe," he said, slipping out of his nice dress robes, "But I can turn you on something fierce."
Hermione spelled his underpants off, causing him to cover himself, and feel to see everything was there, looking relieved that it was. "You can't just spell off a man's—"
"Sirius, if we want to be out of here by intermission, we've got to get a move on." Sirius's mouth snapped shut and he nodded as she reached for her own underwear, sliding it off. "This is the most idiotic—"
"The most idiotic?" he said with an adorable expression.
She tossed her knickers at him.
"You like the idea as much as I do," he said, sniffing them for a moment after he picked them up. "People paid big money for those tickets. They're not coming out here."
"Whereas we got them for free, so we're coming out here?"
He let out another bark of laughter and grasped her, pulling her up off the bed.
"Sirius?"
He waved his wand until they had an unmade bed, literally, and Hermione's expression was almost comical, but Sirius didn't have time to laugh at it. He pulled her toward the nearest pillar, pushing her against it. "Hold this," he said, lifting her skirt and handing it to her.
She did, numbly, looking deep in thought. He kissed her and she kissed back softly, slowly. Breaking it, he made a trail from her chin up the side of her jaw.
"Everyone will see us," Sirius husked against her jaw, causing her to melt a bit. He reached between her thighs, stroking fingers over her soft, wet lips. He turned her around, pressing her against the cold of the metal pillar.
Hermione gasped out, eyes fluttering, and only had time to take in a shaky breath before her new fiancée was burying himself inside of her. She stifled a loud moan, fingers twisting at her skirt as she clutched at it, held it up.
Sirius pinned her with his tall, thin but solid body before he started moving, stroking himself inside of her. She could feel all of him, feel his hardness inside of her, moving, her legs spread, the pillar against the bare flesh of her abdomen. His cock felt big and sweet, and she could have cared less that they were in public now.
She dropped the skirt, reaching to grasp for some sort of purchase on the slippery metal, resting her heated cheek against the cool metal. Sirius's grip on her hips was fairly desperate, even if his strokes were even and meaningful and perfect, and she couldn't wait to see what sort of mark the fingers left.
She rocked back into Sirius's movements wantonly, voice a soft, rumbling stream of praise and approval as he worked at her with his wonderful prick. Her voice wasn't alone; he was making these soft, manly grunts that turned her on something fierce as he felt her hot fire surround him.
His grip tightened on her, and her sweaty palms tried to tighten their grip on the smooth pole, and their bodies rolled together a little more quickly, more intently, more fully, and he was teasing her with a series of quick strokes followed by long, circling movements inside her that made her whine in the best way, lips moving down to kiss at her ear, the side of her neck. She panted, pressing her silk-covered breasts up against the hardness of the pillar, soft voice pleading with him wordlessly to finish.
One hand still gripping her hip like it was likely to run off without the rest of Hermione, Sirius sucked on his fingertip and reached down to stroke her clit. She gasped, mashing her breasts a little more fully against the curved metal in front of her as she pulled her hips back slightly so his fingers could work swiftly at her.
He kept thrusting, and soon she was whining hotly in the back of her throat, a sound that turned him on that much more, and her neediness was answered with a long gasp and moan, hard contractions of slick skin around him, her head arching back, hair brushing his naked torso gently, his nipple. He went back to gripping her hip, his hot, panting breaths in her ear as he neared his own end, finally emptying up into her with a cry of ecstasy.
He didn't pull out right away, and, judging by the way she made no protest, she was alright keeping the closeness too, even out here.
Suddenly there was the short, sharp cry of a prissy woman in shock at the actions of those around her, and Sirius pinned Hermione, glancing back over his shoulder to grin, before they were suddenly very alone again.
He pulled out, letting a slightly pink Hermione get dressed, doing the same, raising an eyebrow when she conjured him knickers, snickering when she scowled at him. Giving her a break, because she'd probably never conjured pants before, he turned them into pants without any hassle, slipping them on.
"Do you regret it?" he purred, looking happy and smug and sated.
Hermione scowled a bit more.
"You don't," he answered for her.
"Well, not the sex, no," she admitted, finding her shoes and getting into them with Sirius helping her keep her balance.
"Oh, come on. It was so worth the look on Narcissa's face."
He stored the image of her mouth, twitching as if she wanted to smile, away for future knowledge. He'd bring out the rebel in her yet.
"C'mon, let's go home and burn you off the tapestry even further," she finally said, pulling him toward the Floo area.
"Then, tomorrow, we can fuck on it," he grinned, grin widening as she paused, looking over at him silently.
She pictured it in her mind, Sirius on his back on the tapestry, her on top, riding him, Sirius appreciating the bite of the fabric's burn more fully than she ever could. "Absolutely," she said, smile full of mischief. "I look forward to it."
He wasn't the only one who could say things for shock value, thank you.