The Announcements Section of The Daily Prophet had trebled in size since Proclomation 2.0.2 had been passed by The Ministry of Magic. While once it contained just a few notices of deaths, births and marriages; it was now overrun by the engagement notices of Muggle-Borns to Purebloods. Hermione scanned the pages for familiar names, but try as she might to concentrate her eye was constantly drawn back to the expensive, heavily embossed, top corner of the page that declared:

Sirius Black , son of Orion (deceased) and Walburga (deceased),

heir to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black (Pureblood), - is delighted to announce his engagement to Hermione Granger (Muggle Born).

With The Ministry's approval Mr. Black and Ms. Granger will wed a forth-night hence,in the company of family and friends, officiated by a designated Ministry appointed official.

"Toujous Pur"

Hermione gave a wry smile as she considered the mockery their marriage would make of the Black family motto "Always Pure", before setting aside the paper on her bed and getting back to what she had been doing before the owl-delivered paper had arrived – namely packing.

Her bedroom was located in the attic of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and though the sloped ceilings and uneven floorboards gave it a slightly higgledy-piggledy air, it had been her home for the past four years and she would be sad to leave it and Diagon Alley which bustled with people just below her window, behind. Kingsley Shacklebot had been clear, however, that needs necessitated she relocated post haste to Grimmauld Place.

'The Ministry must approve each engagement,' he had explained to Sirius and Hermione the previous night, 'And your co-habitation would lend greatly to the story that you are madly in love'. Hermione had blushed, and blushed even more whilst Kingsley went through the finer details of Proclamation 2.0.2. A consumation-alert spell would be placed on them, and every other Pureblood/Muggle Born marriage, to ensure that the union was indeed valid. As well as this a Fidelity Spell and an unbreakable vow would be performed, meaning that their marriage would unequivocally mean until Death do us Part.

Hermione had stolen a glance at Sirius, his face grim and unsmiling – and wondered if perhaps marriage to a Death Eater wouldn't be easier. Since his return from behind the veil, Sirius's fame and notoriety had spread and he had set about capitalising on it by seducing a seemingly never ending conveyor belt of witches. Hermione had been too young to realise when he first returned, but four years past 18 she was now fully aware that her best friend's Godfather – now her fiance, was a playboy. A rich, handsome, playboy whose libido would be checked forever because of her.

' I understand if you want to back out Sirius,' she had cleared her throat and looked at him, but Sirius had lazily shrugged his shoulders. 'No backing out now Granger, the announcement's already been sent to The Prophet.' He looked her in the eye, his gaze comforting 'We'll be fine, don't worry kiddo,' and she had stopped worrying – temporarily.

Now, alone with her thoughts – she couldn't help but let her mind cast over the terms of their marriage, particularly the Consummation Spell. She shivered as for a moment she let herself think of Sirius, naked and lying in her bed – and how he would react when he realised she was a virgin...then stopped herself in annoyance. There would be plenty of time to deal with that when it happened, right now she needed to pack.

Determined to ignore her thoughts, Hermione set out cleaning and packing; vigorously casting all the domestic spells that Molly Weasley had taught her. Within the hour she was finished, and she looked around the clean room, noting sadly that it looked as though no-one had ever lived there - that the past four years of her life had never happened. Shrugging away the melancholy – she levitated her trunk – stuffed full of clothes, books and her prized copy of Hogwarts a History, and made her way downstairs to bid Fred and George goodbye.

The façade of Grimmauld Place was as imperious and uninviting as ever. Hermione – who had apparated from outside The Leaky Cauldron, climbed the front steps and knocked loudly on the door. She could hear footsteps approaching, and she braced herself as the door was opened by Sirius – face covered in stubble, shirt unbuttoned to his chest, and stinking to the high heavens of Firewhiskey.

'Honey...,' he grabbed her trunk with one hand and hauled her to his chest with his free arm. '...You're home'. Before Hermione could ask him what on earth he though he was doing, he covered her mouth with his in a deep, passionate kiss and dragged her through the door, slamming it shut behind him.