Disclaimer: All canon characters, places, plots and situations from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit from this.

Warnings: Rated M for language, violence and scenes of a sexual nature in later chapters.

A/N: If there is a single definitive source on the canon birth and death dates of all characters, it has eluded me. I literally have pages of equations based on various info I've found and it all comes out with different answers. I might be crap with numbers but I swear this isn't all me. For the sake of this story, at this point Sirius is thirty-seven and Hermione is twenty-five.
Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I had some bad news yesterday and we also had load-shedding (no electricity). Hope you enjoy this chapter, and any feedback would be awesome.

Chapter Seven: What If

oOoOoOo

Sirus Black flirted with everyone. In his honest opinion, flirting wasn't so much sexual as stroking the other person's ego, charming them. The same way he called women love, without actually loving them. It was particularly useful when one woke up in the bed of a woman whose name one did not remember.

Oh he'd loved Lily, loved James' mother. He supposed he loved Tonks and Andromeda too. He even loved Hermione, and Ginny. But that love was not a romantic love. He lusted after women, had been infatuated with a few – mostly when he was still a teenager desperate for the next encounter – and even briefly thought himself in love with a woman he met in Knockturn Alley on one particularly forgettable lads night out almost twenty years before. In his defense, she had used a love potion on him, slipped it into his drink at the pub they'd gone to. After that incident the four of them had decided they'd had their fill of dodgy experiences in dodgy alleys, which weren't so much adventurous as stupid, and stuck to the Three Broomsticks.

So he flirted with everyone, including Charlie, as Hermione had pointed out. Personally he felt it was an act of generosity, a little gift for the dragon tamer's wank-bank. How his mother had not figured out her second son was as gay as Dumbledore in a pink frock was beyond him. At that, he'd even made the Weasley matriarch blush more than a few times, much to the consternation of her youngest son.

It had started this way with Hermione. Just a natural propensity to make pretty women blush, to charm them, get under their skin. He barely had to think about it, it was that easy and by the way. Six months into their friendship, however, he could no longer deny the way he felt when he was around her, and lately, frustratingly, even when he wasn't. As much as his reputation preceded him, Sirius had only really had male friends throughout his life. The only woman he would call a genuine friend was Lily, and even that was because of James. Lily had been like a sister to him, though while he also felt protective of Hermione, she did not feel like a sister.

He liked their banter, their discussions and even their arguments. There was something utterly charming and intriguing about Hermione's duality, how she could, one moment, give as good as she got, and the next be nearly scarlet with innocence. She kept him on his toes. Recently her brainy little mouth had been leaving him feeling all twisted up in his head. Her insight and passion made him feel a little bare, a little uncomfortable, and, if he was being honest, more than a little turned on.

At first it was deceptively simple to chalk his attraction, and that it was her he inevitably drifted to while attending to himself in the shower, to their proximity and his being a single man of age. He couldn't pretend it wasn't something else any longer, and he wasn't even sure when it started. He loved her as a friend, and was simultaneously infatuated with her, a combination he had never dealt with before.

This bothered him for two reasons. Firstly, this was Hermione. His godson's best friend, someone he'd known however briefly and distantly as a child. Even with the Veil, he was still a good twelve years older than her.

Secondly, she was so very unlike the women he'd always gravitated to. Hermione wasn't a girl you shagged and ticked off the list. The very idea of him doing this to her made him angry enough to want to punch himself, which was a complete brain-fuck. The thing is, it's not that he didn't want 'something more'. Watching his best friend and godson with their families had awoken a hunger in him that twenty-one year old Sirius would've laughed at. And like every single time he'd discovered a new truth about who he was now, it left him feeling out of control.

For example, he found sharing a bathroom with the witch not inconvenient or a pain in the arse – even when she forced him to learn some cleaning charms to keep up with his end of things – but actually fascinating. The steam she left behind after a shower, scented with her body products, was delicious. He knew her hair smelled like coconut, that she used a peach body lotion and watermelon flavoured lipbalm. He noticed how she divvied up her actions, doing things half magic, half Muggle – like washing the dishes by hand sometimes.

Then there were the little feminine things. A plush towel, her fluffy champagne-coloured shower pouf and her stash of razors and tampons in the little cupboard beneath the sink. Apart from his mother and James', he'd never really lived with a woman, especially the former whose paraphernalia he had no desire to recall.

He liked the way she left little signs of her 'Hermione-ness' scattered around Grimmauld, and they had Remus asking him more than once what he was smiling about. A novel here and there, bookmarked with whatever she'd had at hand at the time – once, a Chocolate Frog wrapper, another time, bizzarely, a single sock. A bottle of Muggle nail polish on the couch that he knew would exactly match the colour on her toes that day.

Sirius realised that he knew more about Hermione and more of Hermione than any other woman, past and present in his life. This unsettled him, the sheer alien sensation of his infatuation, which he had admitted he could no longer blame on his celibacy or breakup with Crissy. He noticed himself making more and more excuses to touch her, to be around her, to have her attention on him, any way he could get it. It both disturbed and amused him that he could get so twisted up by a single accidental kiss on the neck. Altogether the whole thing left him feeling an unfamiliar mixture of inappropriate, greedy and incredibly out of his depth.

So when training had begun it was the blessing that required a large amount of his focus and energy, which helped him get his mind over… whatever this was. Which is also why he was rather irritated when Moony spoiled all his hard work, making things a lot more difficult.

"Ale?" his friend asked, passing him a chilled bottle. They were in a box at the Quidditch match between the Bigonville Bombers and Heidelberge Harriers. Far below them the opening ceremony was taking place on the pitch. The officiant was proving to be hilariously pompous, which made him laugh, and he hoped that would satisfy Remus. His friend had suggested a boys' night, just them, because Sirius had been 'brooding' recently. Now Sirius was wondering if perhaps Moony was actually just a very tall, exceptionally ugly woman with an impressive moustache and a penchant for shoveling bacon bits into his gob. The direction their conversation was going in didn't feel very manly at all, even if they were not looking at each other much at the time.

"So what's going on between you and Hermione?"

"What? Nothing, Moony."

"Your cousin is thirteen years younger than me, you know. We got married."

"Don't remind me." But Moony continued on cheerfully.

"There are only just twelve years between the two of you."

"She's my godson's best friend! I knew her as a teenager!"

"You barely knew her as a teenager, and even so. I knew Dora when she was a child."

Sirius turned to him then, his face scrunched up in mock horror. "Oh gods Moony, you really are a perverted old codger!"

Remus rolled his eyes. "Is that what this is about? The age difference? Actions don't lie, Pads, and I see the way you are with her. I've known you a long time, friend. And not to mention you flirt outrageously with her at any given chance."

"I always flirt, it's my natural state," Sirius argued, taking a swig of ale as the teams took to the field and air in their displays.

"Maybe. But what's her excuse?"

Sirius paused at that, jaw twitching. "She humours me," he said.

"You care about her."

"Of course I care about her! Doesn't mean I want to shag her," he argued. "I've just been a bit lonely s'all, and she's a pretty woman and I haven't had sex in four and a half months!" he blurted. Ale sprayed so hard and impressively out of Remus' mouth, Sirius had to wiped down the side of his face with his robe. "So dramatic," muttered Sirius. "And they say I'm the loud one." Remus' eyebrows had almost entirely disappeared into his hairline.

"Let me get this straight. You, Sirius Black, scourge of innocent virgins Hogwarts-wide, the same wizard who unapologetically set about shagging everything that moved after you returned – what was it, you said? 'Making up for lost time?'-"

"S'not like I was bonking my way through Azkaban," grumbled Sirius, as Remus heedlessly continued over him.

"-You mean to tell me you've not had a shag in that long? His voice was louder than Sirius would've liked.

"Godric's sake Moony, if I wanted it splashed across the Daily Propher I'd have gone straight to them, thanks very much," he hissed.

"Not even a-?" Here Remus made an obscene gesture that had been the center of their world as teenage boys. It was so strange seeing a forty-four year old Remus Lupin do that when Sirius remembered the wizard at fifteen.

He laughed. "No, not even."

"You're serious."

Sirius ran a finger around the rim of the bottle in his hand. "That's what I keep telling you."

"Oh ha-ha. So what happened with that dancer, what was her name? Crissy? I thought you were getting a bit relation-shippy with her."

"Relation-shippy? Mate you've been spending too much time gossiping with my cousin. I haven't seen Crissy since early in the year. We ended things, anyway, the point is, there's nothing going on between Hermione and me. I'm just horny as fuck and she's nice to look at."

Remus shook his head. "Yeah you're not really making your case here, it's even more than I'd thought."

"Moony."

"Okay, okay," said Remus, holding his hands up. "I just don't understand why you're fighting this. It's not like she doesn't return the interest."

"If that's even true. And I highly doubt it's true because Hermione is smart enough to know what's good for her and I am not on that list. I miss the old Remus, you used to be too busy putting your own knickers in a knot to worry about my love-life."

The whistle signaling the start of the game went, saving Sirius from anything else Remus might've wanted to say on the subject. There was a flurry of motion as the players took to the air, and the crowd roared with anticipation, but to Sirius was all background noise.

He was being ridiculous. He had never managed to get himself so twisted up over a woman before. Yes, there had been women that made him chase them, women he'd lusted over and pursued but as awful as it sounded, once that desire had been satisfied, there was nothing to keep working for. Sirius didn't know which would be worse; starting something with Hermione that she didn't deserve, or doing it and finding out that she was like an itch that couldn't be scratched enough.

Remus and Tonks had thrown a small dinner at Grimmauld Place, just a get together. It was the pair of them and their son, Harry, Ginny, Ron, Eva, Hermione and himself, Sirius. Hermione was sitting across from him, leaning on her elbow, a glass of red wine in her other hand, her honey curls shiny in the candlelight. Remus was talking to her, something about Hogwarts he imagined. Ginny, Tonks and Eva were talking about pregnancy – he'd caught a few words of that discussion and really didn't want to be a part of that conversation. Ron was hoofing down chocolate mousse with gusto. Harry, beside him, was telling Teds about being an Auror, a conversation he supposed he should be a part of, but he was rather distracted. Every now and again he would catch Hermione's eye across the table, and he noticed that each time she would blush lightly, even stroking her collarbone self-consciously once. His chest felt tight, like he wanted to laugh hysterically and run away screaming at the same time, but he couldn't help looking.

"Just so you know, I would be okay with it," said a quiet voice beside him, startling him. Teds was now interrogating Ron on the ins and outs of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Sirius turned to Harry. "What are you talking about?" His godson gave him a withering look and Sirius sighed. "I liked you better when you worshipped me." He took a deep breath, feeling on the precipice of two different paths. "Is it that obvious?" he eventually asked under his breath.

"Yes. To me at least," said Harry. "She's my best friend and you're my godfather. I see it."

"And it doesn't bother you? That I'm technically twenty years older than her?" he asked. He couldn't believe he was actually entertaining this line of conversation, as if he were actually considering it, and with Harry no less.

Harry topped up his wine glass. "Well, for one thing, you're technically twelve years older than her. We're not kids anymore Sirius. Hermione can choose to date whoever she wants to. And, if you ask me, I always thought an older bloke would be better for her."

"But… me?"

Harry frowned. "Why not? You two have this bubble you go into when you're around one another. I haven't heard Hermione laugh as much as she has since the two of you became friends, not for a long time. Yeah, she yells a lot as well, but she's loosened up and I think you're good for her. I know that she grounds you, encourages you. What about that wouldn't I want for either of you?"

Harry turned as Teds tugged on his shirt to get his attention, and Sirius stole another look at Hermione. His stomach was a cauldron on high heat, boiling and uncomfortable. He reached for the Firewhiskey.

"Oh goodness, look at the time," said Tonks. "Time for you to go to bed baby," she said to Teddy, who immediately started whining. "How bout I come up with you and get you tucked in?" asked Harry, and the little boy brightened immediately, giving his godfather a gap-toothed grin. Tonks mouthed a thank you to Harry and the two of them headed up the stairs after Teddy had said his goodnights.

"I can't believe it's already halfway through the year," mused Hermione.

"I can't believe I'm only halfway through this pregnancy!" Ginny was flushed with heat. "I've tried every cooling charm in the book and it's still not enough. Gods, you'd think I was growing a fireball in here," she said as she patted her small bump. "I can't wait until November."

"Bet she's going to be a firecracker like her mum, our goddaughter." said Sirius to Hermione, nodding at Ginny's tummy. He didn't miss the sly looks Moony and his cousin were giving one another. What? Had he said something wrong?

"I wish this Death Eater business would just be over," said Ginny. "I hate that Harry's working so hard all the time, especially now."

"We've been working on this since the war," said Tonks. "I think we've established it's not going to happen overnight. Hopefully we'll be quiet when the baby comes." She smiled sympathetically at Ginny.

"There just might be a chance of that," said Sirius. "Captures have been dropping over the last few months. I think we've scared them back into whatever hole they were hiding in."

"Why'd they even bother coming out, is what I want to know," said Ron dryly.

Hermione shrugged. "I imagine they didn't 'come out' so much as got lazy and cocky. So many years have passed since the War. It's had that effect on all of us, hasn't it? She nodded to Tonks. "Except for you and Harry, Sirius of course because time hadn't passed for him, and the few Order members we have working in the Ministry, none of us have been forced to think about it, not really. I imagine to some degree it's been the same for them." A few heads nodded.

"So you don't think they're up to something?" said Eva.

"Judging by the pattern and types of attacks, it's difficult to see that they have any common goal," said Remus carefully.

"But," came Harry's voice as he came back into the room, "We can't discount anything. Remus is right, there doesn't seem to be any meaning to what we've been seeing, not yet at least. For example, we were certain a few were headed to London with the intention to attack some of the Order, but then we get reports that show us they're going in the opposite direction. Could be we scared 'em off, could be that was never their intention, could be there's something else going on and we haven't figured out yet."

"Fuckin' Death Eaters," grumbled Ron. "There's always something going on innit?"

"Well, at least our Auror force is in the best shape it's been in years. Speaking of which," he turned to look at Sirius. "I think every one should know you're all looking at our latest qualified Auror." He was grinning at his godfather as the table erupted into congratulations, clapping and well wishes. Tonks, who had known it was coming, grinned at her cousin.

Sirius was stunned. He didn't know why, since they'd known this was going to happen but now that it had, it was surreal. Only when Harry stood up to give him a hug and thump on the back did he come back to the moment, grinning with excitement at his success and that all these people were glad for him. He was so excited that when Hermione reached to give him a hug, he lifted her clear off the ground, ignoring her squeak or that he held on a little longer than he probably should've."The actual graduation ceremony will be Friday next week at the Ministry, for anyone who wants to attend," said Harry. There was a chorus of confirmations to the invitation and Sirius felt his throat tighten up strangely.

"Auror Black!" said Remus proudly, thumping Sirius on the back again.

"We'll go celebrate after, yeah?" Harry was amused by Sirius' speechlessness.

That next Monday Hermione was surprised to find Sirius, instead of Padfoot, joining her on her run. He was even wearing running gear. "What's this about?" she said, as he effortlessly fell into step with her.

"Have to keep my Auror body fit too love," he explained cheerily. Believe me, you are fit, she thought immediately, and was glad she was already flushed with the exercise. They ran for another twenty minutes, chatting here and there when they slowed the pace. The park was quiet and cool, the sun just setting when they came to an exhausted stop. "I think our James has a little crush on Rose," Sirius said, panting. Hermione grimaced as she stretched her tired legs. He pulled off his shirt, splashing himself from the drinking fountain nearby and she considered him, peeping from under her eyelashes. He had wide shoulders and his chest was defined, though not overly so. A light scattering of dark hair between his pecs led down to the happy trail that disappeared into his running shorts. His chest and arms were covered with all sorts of tattoos.

Hermione tried not to let his semi-nudity affect her but it was getting tiring suppressing or explaining away the thoughts and feelings that accompanied her anytime she thought of the Animagus. It had been going on a few months now, and if she wasn't so sure that he would be completely uninterested, uncomfortable and mortified, she felt like she would confess her attraction right there and then just to get the weight off her shoulders.

"What gave you that impression?" she asked him as they both flopped down on a nearby bench. He used his shirt to wipe his face.

"He said, he thought she was 'very pretty'" he grinned.

"Really?" She smiled. "He actually said that?"

"He did."

"That's funny. He spends so much time pulling her hair and picking on her. Boys."

"We can be contrary too," he said, and tugged sharply on her ponytail before taking off too fast for Hermione to land a smack.

"Oi!" she yelled, running after him. He was a lot slower than Padfoot, but she could hear him laughing as he ran.

She wouldn't think about the implications of their conversation until much, much later.

Sneak Peek Chapter Eight:

"You're so pretty Ron", wheezed Harry, to which Ron responded by giving him the finger, adding to Mrs. Weasley's growing disapproval of the whole matter.