The breeze was a bit chiller than Hermione expected. At least that's what she told herself as she lifted her arms to cross over her exposed cleavage.

Sirius stood before her caught between amusement and absolute horror. He moved his arms toward her and dropped them shortly after, flexing his fingers as though he had no idea what to do with them.

Hermione also stood there, arms around herself, looking into his face and trying not to panic.

"What are you doing here," she hissed.

"What am I? What are you doing here," he asked, eyes widening and looking around. "Dressed like that?"

Hermione huffed. She glanced at the back door of the cafe and back at Sirius. Biting her lip, she moved to the door.

"Wait here," she commanded and slipped back into the building.

Sirius stayed. He leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette in wait for the young witch.

He'd flown his motorcycle to Blackpool, his favorite city in which to go for a run as Padfoot. The salty air of the ocean, coupled with the creaky piers and flashing lights amused his canine counterpart.

He also loved finding a dark corner to morph back into a man and spend some time among the muggles, gambling and drinking.

He hadn't done any of that tonight. Instead of running through the streets, he'd found a bench on the pier and sat as a dog for hours, staring out into the sparkling water.

Several people stopped to pet him, some even gave him scraps of food he never touched. He was still full from dinner.

He knew he didn't owe anyone explanations for his behavior. But he also knew explaining the situation would likely get Hermione, and some of the other Aurors, to stop seeing him as a villain to women.

He didn't like that Hermione thought so little of him. Everyone, his whole family, thought so highly of her. He was sure they thought highly of him.

Hell, he was very impressed with the little muggleborn witch he'd met. The girl his godson had befriended at such a young age.

She was an adult, training to be an Auror by the time he met her. And she was brilliant at it. She was quick on her feet, she was resourceful, and clever. As soon as he'd been cleared to return to work after his five-year coma, she'd been his favorite newbie to spar.

Harry was great. Talented. Smart. But sparring with him wasn't quite as fun - Hermione was unpredictable. A challenge.

And he couldn't help but feel she couldn't stand him. Which was awkward.

He really wished she didn't dislike him so strongly. She was annoying, too, though. He couldn't stand the way she came into the bullpen at every shift opening acting more righteous than the rest of them.

The disapproving glances she threw around to some of the men made his blood boil. Her haughtiness made him want to do the exact opposite of what she had asked him to do. The way she confronted him about Susan made him want to give her a love confession; put her on the spot and make her choose what to do with it.

Remus told him he was being childish when he told him that earlier tonight. He supposed his friend was right.

But now, high and mighty Hermione was dressed as a Maid. A provocative maid. The kind, he assumed, spoke like a house elf.

He chuckled. The door next to him swung open again, revealing Hermione dressed in her regular casual clothes of jeans, t-shirt and moleskin jacket.

She pulled her keys out of the lock and looked down at Sirius's feet.

"Well," and she gestured down the alleyway. "Shall we?"

Sirius pushed himself off the wall and dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground, using the heel of his boot to put out the embers. Snickering, he draped his arm around the witch's shoulders.

"So," he started. "What in Merlin's saggy ballsack was that?"

He felt her tense at his arm, but soon after deflated. She shook her head and led him quietly to a park, empty in the darkness.

He took the initiative and sat on one of the creaky swings, shifting as his body weight disturbed the silence. He gestured toward the swing next to his own.

She took a seat, hesitantly, and continued to stare down at her own feet. With deep breath she started.

"Do you know how expensive it is to live in muggle London?"

"I lived there in the 80's," Sirius replied quickly. "I imagine it's more expensive. With infallation and all."

"Inflation," Hermione corrected without a thought. "I got a flat near my parents' old home. It's not cheap, but I want to buy their old house. I can't do that on an Auror's salary alone."

Sirius had known Wendell and Monica Granger had been killed in a car accident while Hermione was still at Hogwarts. It was part of the reason the Potters had taken her in as family. He'd not given any thought, however, as to what her living accommodations were.

"That's a big goal for someone your age," he told her, trying to get a full view of her face from her position. She laughed.

"My age?"

He shrugged.

"So that explains why, Miss Granger. Not what the hell," he prodded, nudging her shoe with his own. She chuckled some more.

"It was Luna's idea."

"Of course," he agreed, solemnly.

"It's a Maid Cafe. Japanese inspired, I think." She sat up straight and turned her swing toward Sirius.

"You cannot tell a soul."

He barked a laugh into the cool evening air. "Tell anyone? Me? And risk everyone else wanting to come see you in that ridiculous and revealing dress? I don't think so, Kitten."

Her face was hard as a stone. "I'm serious."

Smirking, he replied, "No, I'm Sirius."

"I'm not joking. If anyone finds out about this, I'm holding you personally responsible!"

"And what do you plan to do to me, then?"

Hermione's eyes widened, choosing to ignore the innuendo. "Really, Sirius. Please."

He backed down at the desperate look he saw on her face and lifted his hands in surrender.

"There are plenty of part-time gigs you could get. Why this?"

She met his gaze.

"I could work at a bookshop or anywhere in Diagon Alley for extra cash, it's true. But anywhere near London and the Potters will know. Then they'll ask why and they'll offer to help."

"I fail to see how that's a bad thing, love," he responded. She rolled her eyes.

"They've already done so much for me. I want to prove that I can do this myself. That I'm independent. Grown up," she muttered, looking down again. She heard him snort.

"No one doubts you're grown up."

The timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine, but it was the words that rang clearly in her ears. He'd never known her as a child. He woke up just as she was starting at the Academy, already a driven adult.

The Potters still saw her as the buck toothed little girl getting in the Hogwarts Express with Harry. They tried too hard to protect her.

"Besides," she heard Sirius laugh, "no one's going to question your maturity in that little get-up."

"Oh shove it." She waited for his laughter to die down a bit before continuing. "Promise me, Sirius. Don't breathe a word about it to anyone."

"One condition," he replied soberly.

She faced him, indicating he tell her his condition. Just then his lip curled upward, his eyes filled with mischief. He was handsome. And Hermione was cautious.

"Be my maid for a day."

When she woke up and crawled out of bed, Hermione felt a deep pit in her stomach. Either a deep empty pit, or a heavy Boulder which kept sinking lower and lower into her gut.

Upon getting home and crawling into bed the previous night it dawned on her how absolutely foolish she'd been to accept Sirius's deal for Secrecy.

The hordes of scenarios rushing her mind, all of how the day could go tragically wrong, closed up her throat and made her want to reach.

To be Sirius's maid for a day. At first it seemed harmless; perfectly doable. But on second thought, it could also seem particularly suspicious. Harry and Ron would know something was wrong.

She quickly threw on her Auror's robes and made her way to the floo.

"GRANGER," Auror Robbards yelled out into the bullpen, startling Hermione. "My office, now!"

She followed the tall balding man into his office and took a seat as indicated. To her left sat the bane of her existence.

Sirius smiled brightly, rubbing his thumb and forefinger along his perfectly groomed goatee.

"Granger," he nodded with a wink. She simply nodded back to him and turned her attention to the Head Auror.

Looking between the two, Robbards sagged and slouched into his large wing-back seat.

"It's not pretty out there. We've been keeping a low profile, gathering Intel, but there's a group of blood supremacists calling themselves Death Eaters," Robbards said.

Hermione looked over to Sirius who furrowed his brow, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"Death Eaters?"

Robbards met the other man's gaze for a split second. "Aye. They're not new. But they've been quiet for a decade."

"I'd say," Sirius growled. "They sent me Mungo's and just dropped off the face of the planet, right?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat again. She'd heard of the small group of dark wizards who had attacked Sirius when she was a teenager. She'd never heard them referred to as anything else other than "those bastards" the whole time Sirius was at the Hospital.

However, in recent years she'd started to hear murmurings of blood supremacy activists – many of the old pureblood families were deeply drenched in Prejudice against muggles and muggleborn witches and wizards, James had explained to her many years ago.

She equated this to internalized racism out in the muggle world. A harmful prejudice that cropped up in everyday life, but not strong enough to create an upset in the world.

Sitting in Robbard's office right then, however, that simple ideology shattered.

"Four muggleborns have gone missing," Robbards said, pushing a thick file folder toward Hermione. She slowly picked the file up and began flipping through it. "Over the course of six weeks Dennis Creevy, Justin Finch-Fletchly, Penelope Clearwater and Santiago Montero, all adult wizards, have been taken from the streets and haven't been heard from since.

Hermione felt her heart pounding against her chest as she looked at photos of people she had gone to Hogwarts with, their names written on top of case files, reduced to paperwork. She was shaking when she felt Sirius's hand on her elbow.

She looked up at the dark-haired man whom she felt was searching her own face, trying to read her reaction. He swallowed, she noticed, watching his Adam's apple rise and fall. He nodded toward the file on her lap and she gave it to him without a fuss.

"Granger, this case is yours," Robbards said, finally.

"Are you JOKING?" Sirius was glaring at Robbards, sitting on the edge of his seat. "This is no case for someone as green as Hermione!"

"Hey now," Hermione started, jumping in to defend herself. "If Robbards believes I can do it, then I've earned it, Black!"

Sirius barked out a humorless laugh. "It's not that you can't, Kitten, it's that you shouldn't." The last part of his sentence was spoken while looking straight ahead at the Head Auror. "You know this is too dangerous. We're talking about blood supremacy. These guys aren't just some nutters with conspiracy theories in the streets, Robbards."

Sirius was gripping the armrests on his chair with a vice, snarling the words through his clenched teeth.

"These fuckers are right murderous bastards. They'll do anything to get rid of muggleborns. They've KIDNAPPED four already," he hissed. "And you want to send Granger? Are you using her as bait?"

"That's enough Black," Hermione snapped, looking between him and her boss. "It makes sense. I will be bait, obviously. I'm a muggleborn in a position of power. But as an Auror, I am more than capable!"

"Of course you are," Sirius said, sparing her a quick glance and returning his scowl to the other man. Robbards leveled Sirius with his own glower.

"Are you quite finished, Black," the Head Auror asked. "Because if you'd let me say more than one fucking word, you'd know I'm partnering the two of you."

At that, Black froze, understanding dawning on him. Hermione watched him closely as he sank back into his own seat and bit his lips tightly shut.

"I thought you might like a chance to get back at these bastards," Robbards continued. "But you're too volatile. Granger will keep you out of trouble and alive, I hope."

Never in her life did she believe she'd be partnered with Sirius Black. It was her responsibility to make sure the case was taken care of, while also ensuring this man's hot head stayed on straight. She needed to keep him alive.

The question was, could she really do that effectively if in the next half hour she'd want to kill him?

What she needed was an office and a corkboard and double shot of whiskey.

After a quick and quiet lunch break by herself, Hermione started worrying.

She was currently in Sirius's office, and the two of them were going through each missing person's file, making notes and keeping mostly quietly to themselves. They exchanged files as requested and asked each other questions about each victim and how, other than blood status, they were connected.

With the obvious anxiety niggling at her mind, Hermione couldn't help but be excited to have her first case, even of it did require the partner she was given. She could make it work.

She knew this was a dangerous case - hell, it had rendered Sirius unconscious for nearly a decade the last time he dealt with this bunch. But with her help, not that she had a superiority complex of any kind, with her help the two of them may be able to take these folks down.

Sirius had history and understanding. Hermione was analytical and never rushed into anything without weighing all the risks. She was beginning to think Robbards was right in pairing for this.

She didn't have to like it.

In fact, she didn't have to be comfortable with it.

As she sat in the spare chair in Auror Black's office, she kept lifting her gaze to the man behind the messy desk.

It had been nearly sixteen hours since he learned one of her most guarded secrets. He'd even made a cheeky comment about keeping her secret for the price of being his maid for a day.

It had been five hours since the workday started.

Not once did he indicate he had mischief up his sleeve. Not once had he thrown her the flirty grin she'd come to know as "I know something these other sods don't." Not once had he even mentioned her juicy secret nor had he implied to anyone else that she may have one.

His complete insouciance on the topic creeped her out.

So she glanced up from Penelope's file to ponder him again.

"You have a question for me, Granger," he asked, not even glancing up at her from the file he was notating.

Shocked, Hermione scrambled to come up with a response, refusing to be the one to bring up her second job while in the DMLE.

"Uh," she started, "uh, I was thinking I'll need a corkboard."

At this, Sirius eyed her briefly.

"I'll put in a work order," he said, waving his ward and creating an interdepartmental memo. "Should have one first thing in the morning."

"Good," she replied, looking back down at the file in front of her. Her stomach dropped. Penelope Clearwater was pregnant. Not knowing if this was relevant to the case details, she highlighted the data.

Whether it was relevant or not, it sure made finding her much more urgent, in Hermione's book.

"Hermione," Sirius said, looking up and leaning back in his chair. She met his gaze and gestured for him to continue.

"I spoke to Robbards. I convinced him our new assignment would be better served if he took us off of night shifts."

To say she was surprised was an understatement.

"You mean," she began. Sirius shot her a grin and a wink.

"No more night shifts. You're free to do with your evenings as you please."

And there it was. The mischief she'd been waiting for all day. With heat rising up her chest and neck, Hermione quietly thanked him.

His grin hardly faltered as he began studying the files again, whistling a jaunty little tune Hermione didn't recognize.

Suddenly, he stopped.

"Dennis Creevy's wife is a muggle," he said.

"Justin's is too," Hermione followed, quickly opening the other files.

"Montero's husband is a muggle," she continued, eyes scanning the page. "He and his husband were finishing up the process to adopt a child."

She looked up to Sirius, eyes wide and worried. "Sirius, Penelope's pregnant."

"I think we're on to something," Sirius said softly, barely above a whisper.

Hermione made it to the café in record time for her evening shift that night. Despite the heart-shattering progress made on the case earlier, she felt light and well rested for the first time in a long while.

They'd made progress on a case that had only barely been assigned. It was her first official case. She would no longer need to work all-night shifts at the DMLE (unless the case called for it), and Sirius hadn't made a single mention of the previous night.

All was well in her world for the first time since her Hogwarts days.

She changed into her maid costume and was about to start fixing her makeup when she heard incessant giggling coming from the gaggle of other maid waitresses crowding the kitchen door, which looked out onto the floor.

"Tall, dark and handsome, isn't he," she heard Violet say.

"May I take your order? More like may I take your number," came Lucy's voice.

"He looks so out of place, but excited, isn't that weird," she heard Ruthie ask.

"If you ask me, I'd say he's a bachelor just looking for a new toy thing- ow! I mean a new experience," came the voice of blonde and busty Rose, whose foot had been stomped by Lucy at her suggestive tone.

Hermione rolled her eyes, remembering a month ago when all the girls stood in that exact same spot, fawning over some well-dressed, sunglasses wearing streak of a man who didn't turn out to tip very well. Everyone's opinion of him pretty much faltered after that.

"Mia, table four is your first. Party of two," said Luna, who walked into the kitchen, breezing past the other girls. "I think table two, party of one might also be yours, but he hasn't quite decided, I think."

All the girls shot their eyes toward the ethereal blonde who was readjusting her corset.

"And why would table two, party of one be Mia's table," asked Rose, clearly offended as the other girls only looked slightly put out.

Rolling her eyes at the silliness, Luna replied, "because he's her partner, of course."

Hermione froze. Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome was Sirius. Sirius was sitting in Cafe waiting to be waited on.

"Be my maid for a day," he had said last night.

Everyone was staring at her. Even the cooks.

"Her partner," squealed Violet, who Hermione swore had somehow turned her irises into large paper hearts.

Hermione's day job was no secret to these girls - or, not really. They knew she worked for law enforcement, that she was an officer in a matter of speaking. They were not aware of the magic part of it all. Except for Luna.

So the lovestruck looks coming off of Violet, Lucy and Ruthie and the death glare coming off of Rose were just as shocking to her.

Clearing her throat, Hermione tried to explain when Luna interrupted.

"Table four, Mia. They're waiting!"

In almost a trance, Hermione slowly made her way out to the floor toward table four. Almost as in a trance, table four was the only thing in her sight - a table with two A-level aged boys, nearly drooling at the maids on the floor in their outfits.

She did not, under any circumstances, turn her head toward table two, where she knew Sirius sat, with a smirk, watching her every move.

She absolutely didn't see Violet make her way toward the man, nor did she see him gesture toward her and Violet's responding swoon.

She didn't hear Violet say, "That's Miss Mia, she's one of our favorite maids here at Maid Latte. Would you like her to serve you today?"

Nor did she hear Sirius's response, low and gravelly, almost like he was flirting with Violet. "I would love it if Miss Mia served me today."

The order she took for the other two customers had only barely made it in front of the cooks before Violet approached her and confirmed that table two, party of one was definitely her table.

The funny thing was, she thought as she made her way back out onto the floor, was that she never had the chance to tell Luna about her new assignment yet. So how did Luna know Sirius was her new partner? She'd have to ask her at the end of the shift.

She had arrived at Sirius's table much quicker than she would have liked, and felt herself begin to fume at the sight of his smirk.

"Welcome to Maid Latte, Master. How may I serve you today," she recited, in her high-pitched and well practiced customer service voice. Even her face was plastered with a sweet and eager smile, one she wished she could throw into the garbage disposal, along with the slow Cheshire cat grin painting itself across Sirius's mouth.

Instead of answering, or ordering anything, Sirius began laughing. It was a low chuckle at first, but soon became a full-bellied roar. His hand reached out and gripped the table as he tried to compose himself, his other hand reaching to his face to wipe at the stray tears collecting at the corner of his eyes.

The customer service face was gone. Hermione was glaring daggers at her new partner, intent on humiliating her at her already humiliating job.

Right as she turned to leave him there, laughing on his own, he reached out and caught her by the black lacy sleeve.

"Sorry Miss Mia, don't leave. I," he looked around at all the other patrons and saw several cups of tea and pastries. "I, um. Could I have some Earl Grey," he asked, amusement clear on his features as his eyes met hers, silver on amber, almost begging for her to forgive his outburst.

"I'll have it out shortly, Master," she said, once again in her rehearsed voice and stormed back into the kitchen.

To say this was the worst shift she'd ever worked at the overly cutesy muggle café would be an understatement. She spent the whole four hours ignoring questions from her nosey coworkers, wanting to know more about "her partner."

Hermione didn't even have the energy to correct their assumptions, already embarrassed enough without turning it into more of a debacle.

She also spent the shift shooting daggers at Luna each time she saw the blonde witch. She couldn't necessarily tell why she was so unhappy at her friend, but it felt right to glare at her.

She couldn't even relax when Sirius finished his meal and promptly left the café. She couldn't relax until she changed back into her t-shirt and jeans, pulling an overfilled trash bag behind her as she locked up the shop behind her.

However, as her luck would have it, a very familiarly shaggy black dog was waiting for her in the back alley by the dumpster.

Her shoulders sagged in defeat upon seeing him.

"No one else is around. If you're going to stalk me, you might as well throw this rubbish sack in there, because I'm tired," she told the dog.

At her words, the dog automatically morphed back into the wizard she knew him to be and took the sack from her hands.

"I got it," he said quietly, prying her fingers from the plastic she was somehow still clutching. When she released it, he smoothly threw it into the large bin.

"Why are you here," she asked before he fully faced her again.

"I said I wanted you to be my maid, in exchange for my silence," he responded carefully, like she might need help to understand his motives.

"No," she snapped, clutching her jacket tightly around her and starting for the alley entrance. Sirius picked up his stride and settled into pace beside her. "I mean, why are you still here? You finished an hour ago."

"I wasn't going to leave you in this dodgy alley alone at night," he said, as though it was obvious.

"I've survived myself for a year now, Sirius."

"Yeah, well now you don't have to."

She stopped to look at him, clearly confused.

"Sirius. I'm an Auror. I can take care of myself," she said slowly.

Still walking, backwards now to keep her in his line of sight as she questioned him, he replied, "Yes. But now you don't have to."

He reached out a hand for her to grab and return to their regular stride. She started walking again and joined him without taking his outstretched hand, instead hugging her jacket closer to her.

"Besides, I don't see your wand anywhere on you. I'm not leaving you unarmed," he said as they reached the alley opening where he'd parked his sleek black motorcycle.

Scoffing, Hermione touched her denim-clad thigh, where a shimmer of her wand appeared briefly.

"Like I go anywhere without it," she laughed, deciding she was too tired to keep up her frustration. Besides, she had plenty of days in the future to continue being frustrated with him.

"Strong disillusionment charm," he muttered in approval, tossing her a full-head helmet and throwing his leg over the bike.

Hermione caught the helmet and stared at him in disbelief.

"What are you doing?"

"Giving you a lift?"

"No. Sorry. Not happening." She threw the helmet back at the wizard and continued walking. The apparition point was just on the other side of the park they'd sat in the night before.

"Suit yourself, Granger," she heard him say as the engine roared to life. "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow."

As quickly as the bike turned on, the sound disappeared. When she turned back to ask what happened to the deadly contraption, she noticed he and his bike had completely disappeared.

Trying not to laugh, she shook her head and muttered, "strong disillusionment charm."