Harry Potter was a simple man. He'd been raised an only child until the Hogwarts days when he met Hermione Granger. The Potters fell in love with this new friend of his, invited her over during school breaks, taking her on vacations with them. Lily even took the girl shopping.

When the Grangers died during sixth year, Hermione became an honorary Potter, as the Grangers had listed the Potters as their next-of-kin who would be responsible for their daughter.

While that time was incredibly difficult for Hermione, Harry couldn't help but feel relieved. Hermione becoming a part of his family meant he'd never lose her in the way most young adults often lost their school friends.

He did everything with her. They were like siblings. And up until they turned 19 when Harry started dating Ginny Weasley and Hermione started dating Ron Weasley, they confided in each other about everything.

However, Hermione started keeping more and more to herself when she and Ron started having issues. She stopped talking to Harry about it, he assumed because Harry was dating Ron's sister.

When Ron and Hermione broke up and it became obvious Harry and Ginny were in it for the long haul, Hermione told him even less about the break-up. Again, he assumed it was because she didn't want to start drama with his future wife's family.

Ginny didn't care. Ginny sided with Hermione, claiming Ronald was a dolt and deserved whatever it was Hermione had said to break up with him. Harry was glad for this, too. While Ron was his best friend, Hermione was his sister. And to know Hermione and Ginny would have each other's backs filled him with comfort.

When Hermione moved out of his parents house after the break-up, all the Potters worried.

Lily was beside herself, blaming herself for not providing the right atmosphere for her surrogate daughter. James tried throwing money at her, astounded that she would refuse financial help from her family. Harry worried she'd close in on herself and block everyone out.

All three of them were being silly, though. And it was Sirius who helped them see that.

In fact, Harry had been sworn to Secrecy but had it on good authority that Sirius was the one to call her prospective landlords and negotiate the price of rent to something manageable.

He also knew it Sirius who had anonymously gifted Hermione a brand new plush sofa for her new apartment. It had been Harry who penned the word "FREE" on a piece of cardboard and set the sofa up in front of the apartment before going up to visit her.

It was then Sirius who had charmed the couch to shock any person who came within three feet of it, ensuring only Harry and Hermione could take it and lug it up into the flat.

When Harry asked why Sirius had done these things he took Harry aside and had an important conversation with him.

"Hermione needs space. She needs to know she can make it on her own. She needs to learn that she can definitely be independent. But that doesn't mean we can't help her, we just have to be smart about it," he said, tapping his forehead.

Harry was so happy that Sirius had taught him this, and that his godfather had talked some sense into Lily and James, convincing them to stop fretting over the girl. At the time Harry assumed Sirius was merely being a good, understanding godfather for Hermione, too.

However, at this moment, looking between his parents, his fiancé, and his (aunt?) he was no longer as sure of that particular piece of information as he had believed for the last several years.

It had been four years since Sirius woke up from his coma.

That had been a surprise. The healers and mediwitches never would have expected anything different that day the Potters entered Sirius's room. But it was different, he remembered. This was the first time Hermione came with them.

James, Lily, Harry and Hermione walked into the lift at St. Mungo's. Harry knew Hermione had never been there before.

Every year they had come to visit Sirius, Hermione had spent the day with her parents. But Hermione didn't have her parents this year. He squeezed her hand.

She was cold and her hand was clammy. She looked nervous, as though she were about to meet some kind of legend. But, Harry guessed, at this point in their lives, Sirius really was just a legend. She'd never met him before the accident. This would be the first time she'd see him outside of the photos decorating his parent's house.

Not that she'd really meet him. He was practically dead, he thought bitterly.

The walk through the hospital was the worst part of visiting his godfather. He was near the top, where they kept the coma patients. Sirius had been the longest resident. He was admitted in 1993. It was now 1998. Most patients either woke up or were taken off their stasis charms to die after three or four months.

But James and Lily refused to remove his stasis charm. They kept hoping he'd wake up, and it wasn't like they didn't have the money to keep him there for a couple of decades, at least. Harry had given up hope a couple years ago.

Still, he'd come. His parents would give him a couple of minutes alone with the sleeping man, to talk to him about anything he wanted, catch the man up on his life and everything he was missing. Or to complain about school, tell him about the girls he was seeing. Sirius would have liked to know all about Harry's girl problems, Lily had told him.

This time, Hermione went in with him for his allotted five minutes.

He and Hermione stepped carefully into the chairs beside his bed. Harry noticed his face looked a little more pallid than normal and the skin around his eyes bruised with purple. He tried not to think the man was nearing his ability to remain in stasis.

Lily had stated the healers were never able to truly figure out what spell he'd been hit with, or what the effect of the curse truly was. As far as all scans and tests could determine, his physical injuries had all healed, but his mind refused to wake.

Hermione sat primly on the edge of her seat, hands folded in her lap as she looked at the man before. He was just as beautiful as he was in the photos. Only he looked dead. Like she was in a muggle funeral home, gazing into an open casket. Her eyes began welling with moisture.

She sniffed and looked at the floor instead. She tried to imagine this man smiling at them from his bed. Instead, all she could see were the purple wells beneath his eyelashes and the slow subtle rise and fall of his chest as the spell helped maintain his breath.

"Sirius, hey," Harry said, leaning back into his own chair. "I told you I'd bring her someday. This is Hermione. She's my best friend, but you knew that."

His voice tapered off. He really didn't know what to say this time. This was the first time he really felt like Sirius would never hear him.

"I, um," He glanced at his friend who was looking back at him. He watched her swallow then snap her eyes toward the man in the bed.

"Harry's on track to win the quidditch cup this year," she supplied. "And he's got a huge crush on Ginny Weasley but refuses to tell her. He made her a chaser this year because he didn't want to admit she was a better seeker than him."

"Hey, shut up, 'Mione!"

But now that she'd started, she couldn't stop. "Snape's been awful as DADA, but mysteriously Harry's gotten better at potions. How is that Harry?"

Harry smirked. "That's actually pretty cool, though. There's a series of books hidden in a floorboard of one of the supply closets in the potions classroom. They're completely annotated with helpful tips and tricks and Hermione's been threatening to turn them into Slughorn since last year. But she won't. She's too interested in using them to get better marks than Malfoy."

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. "Well it's working, isn't it?"

The two chuckled.

"Hold on. I've got to use the loo," Harry muttered, getting up and walking into the restroom off to the side of bed.

Opening the door on his way out of the restroom, he saw Hermione tentatively reach out to touch Sirius's hand. When she had his pale, dry fingers between her own, she smiled slightly and gave it a squeeze. Harry smiled too.

When she caught Harry's eye, she quickly released Sirius and stood up.

"I think we should get your parents. It's their turn."

However, the two teens didn't make it out of the room before they heard a sharp gasp and the rustling of sheets.

Both jumped back and faced the bed. Sirius's eyes had shot open and were rimmed in red, the whites of them looking more like a deep pink.

"Prongslet?"

After that, James and Lily were in there, sitting on the vacated chairs as the healers and mediwitches hovered over Sirius. Harry and Hermione stayed just outside, shocked. Harry refused to acknowledge the tears streaming down his face. Hermione did, however, and conjured him a tissue.

She was quiet. Not saying a single word, not even after they got home later that night. She'd gone straight to her room, the one the Potters had fixed up for her years ago. Harry didn't see her before he and his parents left for Mungo's first thing the next morning, now that Sirius was stable and caught up.

Aurors would be visiting him that day to close up the details on his four year old case.

Harry didn't see Hermione that evening for dinner, either. Lily told him she'd asked to spend the day and night at Luna's. Later, Hermione explained to him she didn't want to get in the way during this hectic time in the Potter's lives. Lily had told her it was utter nonsense, but acquiesced to avoid making the girl feel uncomfortable.

She didn't even know Sirius, after all.

"I think that should be enough for today, honestly," Hermione said, grinning and she stretched back in her seat and rubbed her eyes.

They had been finishing their categorization of each case for the entire morning and Hermione was starting to tire of cashews.

Sirius groaned in agreement, slumping over his desk in defeat.

They hadn't spoken all day unless it was related to their assignment, leaving several issues hanging between them from the previous night's family meeting.

While Hermione felt slightly better about everything, she was also embarrassed she had assumed Sirius would try to sabotage her place on the case.

Sirius, on the other hand, was extremely annoyed at his friends and godson. He understood their concern. But he was still annoyed they would even admit to not wanting him on the case.

He was even more annoyed at James, who had spent their entire conversation smirking at him. Sirius hated that smirk. But he was smart enough to not ask about it, because he knew the answer would probably just piss him off even more. So he let it go.

But the smirk haunted him all night. And it haunted him worse all morning as he worked the case with his partner.

His small-framed partner with the big hair. Big personality, actually, for such a small person he thought. Big eyes, too. Big whiskey colored eyes which only grew bigger when he placed a plastic container on the desk in front of her.

"Um, what is this," she asked.

He rolled his eyes.

"It's called a rice omelet. It's a Japanese delicacy."

"I see that, Sirius. But what is it doing here, in front of me?"

Sirius just looked at her, not saying a word. His own slate-gray eyes catching another smirk, but from the small witch before him. She knew.

Opening the container, she warmed the contents and began eating it, small pieces at a time. Sirius hadn't moved an inch, just continued looking at her as she ate.

She put down the chopsticks she was using and looked back at him.

"I take it you didn't realize I'd have a night off?"

"I take it you purposefully didn't tell me your schedule."

She scoffed and began eating again. "I don't need to tell you my schedule just because we're partners at one of my two jobs."

"I thought you might deign to let me in on your second schedule because we're friends."

Hermione looked at him again, eyes narrowed as she finished chewing her current bite.

"Are we?"

"What else would we be," he asked, trying hard not to sound exasperated. He suddenly felt the urge to look away from her, to stare anywhere in the room as long as it wasn't at her. Because the room was warming up rapidly and he was acutely aware of his own pulse.

But her narrowed eyes never wavered. So he wouldn't, either.

"Honestly, I just thought you liked stalking me after you saw the outfit. You know, like a pervert?"

As much as he had hoped to hold it together and not crack a smile at her jab, which was so predictably Hermione, he couldn't help it. In fact, he let out a full-bellied laugh.

"Oh Kitten, if I were a stalker I'd have asked Miss Lovegood for your whole month's schedule before I ordered your lunch for today."

Hermione stopped, eyes wide as she looked up at Sirius again, who sat more comfortably than before, fingers locked behind his head and feet crossed at the ankle over his desk.

He was smug. That smile, or was it a Leer, made her grind her teeth in frustration.

"SIRIUS BLACK, DID YOU MAKE LUNA GIVE YOU MY SCHEDULE?"

On the other side of the office's closed door, Harry had just been about to knock. However, Hermione's shrill yelling, coupled with Sirius's barking laughter stopped him dead in his tracks.

He's so gone on her, James's voice rang in his ears.

Instead he left a note on the door asking Hermione if she'd like to have lunch with him tomorrow. He had a few questions to ask her and he couldn't bear to ask in front of any of their family.

"Neither you or Luna ever have any time for me anymore," Ginny whined, flopping across the plush sofa in Hermione's one-bedroom flat.

"Yes we do! We'll both be there on Sunday. You can even count on me for a few hours before dinner," Hermione consoled her.

Ginny huffed. "At the risk of sounding like a baby, I wanna hang out now!"

Hermione giggled, watching the tantrum her soon-to-be-married friend was throwing. However cute the red-headed witch was, though, she had to find a way to get her out of the flat. She had to work in half an hour and Ginny didn't know anything about Maid Latte or what she and Luna did on the occasional afternoon.

"Gin, I promise we'll spend some girl-time together on Sunday. But right now I really have somewhere to be."

Ginny eyed her suspiciously. "Where do you have to be that's so important?"

Hermione sighed, trying to think of something quickly.

"I have an appointment."

"I can go with you."

"It's personal."

Ginny's eyes narrowed further.

"Hermione Granger, are you going on a date?"

Hermione stopped. This was as good an excuse as any other, but she really didn't want her friends and family thinking she was seeing anyone. They'd pester her relentlessly.

Unfortunately, her silence took too long and Ginny squealed.

"Okay, I'll let you go, but you have to tell me everything about this mystery man you're seeing!"

"Ginny, it isn't,-" but the other witch had already popped out of the flat. "Fuck."

And that was the precursor to the mood Hermione found herself in when she started her shift at the cafe.

Rose was already sour, too, which normally meant nothing to Hermione. Except tonight, Hermione was on the receiving end of the blonde's fury.

Just as she exited the locker room, Rose slid past her and jammed her elbow into Hermione's side and walked away.

"What the hell," she hissed, clutching her ribs as she punched her time card.

She made her way out to the floor, tightening her apron around her small frame.

For about an hour, Hermione went about business as usual. Greeting guests, making the children feel extra special with, taking orders and taking photos of guests.

At Maid Latte, it was typical for customers over the age of 14 to challenge the maids to a card game for a chance to take a cute photo with them, wearing costumes or animal ear headbands.

Hermione cheated at Speed each time to ensure no photos of her made it out into the real world. Luna did the same.

There were three men, Hermione wasn't quite sure of their names, who challenged her to a card game nearly every night she worked. Those three were determined. Hermione was extra wary around them.

Especially this night, as they seemed to be whispering and strategizing. However, as she approached their table with their ice cream sundaes, she thought she heard one whisper something about "the boss."

The thought sent a chill down her back, and she only barely heard the chime of the bell at the door.

Lucy pranced over to Hermione, a large smile plastered across the small girl's face.

"Miss Mia," she sang, "your boyfriend's here!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. After a week, she had been unsuccessful at convincing her co-workers that Sirius was not her boyfriend, but her partner. As cops tend to have, she explained to Violet to no avail as the woman just sang out a stream of unsolicited dating advice.

Turning, Hermione watched as Sirius took a seat at his regular table, catching her eye and sending her a wink.

She scowled.

The creepy men in the corner, who had been leaning over their table and whispering not three minutes ago, sat stiffly now, barely touching their melting desserts.

Sirius, great Auror that he was, caught her expression as she looked at the table of strangely stiff men. He made a mental note to keep an eye on them, and smiled widely as Hermione approached him.

He began his order before she could begin her greeting.

"I'll have the Earl Grey, Miss Mia. And a nice hot bowl of your spicy pork Ramen. I'll probably be here for a while today, so as long as you keep the tea filled, I'll be fine and you can focus on your other customers."

Hermione nodded, watching as he took out what looked like a vintage 70's briefcase filled with parchment charmed to look like regular muggle printer paper.

The briefcase was an eyesore; brown faded leather which looked almost orange, and an awful stained cream fabric lining. As soon as the dusty thing opened on his table, Hermione could smell the tell-tale sign of age: mothballs.

She couldn't help it. She tried not to, but the sight was so funny to her that eyes filled with tears at the struggle to not break character.

Instead of breaking out into raucous laughter on the floor, she bit her lips shut and scurried away to the kitchen where she lost her composure.

She handed Sirius's order to the cooks and leaned against the wall crying in her laughter at the sight of Sirius Black.

He was wearing his muggle clothes. Which was fine, most of the time, she conceded. But his t-shirt, jeans and leather jacket didn't exactly pair well with the briefcase.

Hermione couldn't picture any briefcase matching Sirius's bad-boy aesthetic, especially not the putrid orange case from nearly thirty years ago. Where had he even found that thing?

Hermione began to calm down slowly when she noticed her sides begin to ache from her incessant laughter. She wished she could have taken a picture to show Harry; he'd have himself a good laugh, too, she thought.

And suddenly the joy ended. Because she couldn't show Harry a photo of Sirius sitting at Maid Latte. There would be too many unanswered questions about the place.

Sobering, Hermione returned to work.

Sirius remained hard at work, she saw, taking down notes from floo calls the two of them made earlier. She kept his teapot filled and looked over his shoulders as she walked by, trying to keep up to date on his notes as he reviewed them.

She could have sworn, though, that he kept the pages up and available for her to catch more than a cursory glance at them as she passed him or refilled his tea.

She couldn't shake the chill from earlier, though. The three business men remained at their table by the wooden hutch. All three avoided eye contact with her now, which they never had before. They'd even rearranged themselves to have their backs toward Sirius's table.

There was a dread pooling in her stomach over it. She'd never felt this uneasy about these guys before, but their recent behavior had her mind reeling.

"Would you like any more coffee, Masters," she asked sweetly, noting they refused to look straight at her.

"No, no, we'll be fine," the bigger of the three panted. "We're just getting ready to leave."

Hermione had briefly thought she might warn Violet about these men; she was starting to think they were up to something. Until she saw a telling shimmer around the smallest's wrist.

Magic.

Instead, she plastered her Mia smile and informed them she'd be back with their check.

Approaching Sirius's table, she shot a quick glance back at them, all whispering frantically to each other, a clear sheen of sweat appearing on their foreheads.

When she reached Sirius, she leaned toward him to pour coffee into his half-filled teacup.

"Hey, what," he began, but she cut him off with a harsh whisper.

"Three. Four o'clock. Wizards. Suspicious."

He peered over her shoulder as she filled the Earl Grey pot with her coffee as well.

"I've been watching," he replied, feigning a sip of his coffee tea, which made him grimace at the smell of the combined drinks.

"Follow," she commanded as she straightened and walked toward the till.

Sirius waited until she gave the group their bill before setting a muggle cash note on the table and following the men out the front door.

Hermione quickly stepped back out into the alley and set up a couple of anti-muggle wards and a silencing charm, knowing Sirius would herd the wizards to the alley.

She was right.

Instead of a scuffle, however, she was surprised to hear arguing. And laughing.

Suddenly Sirius was pushing three very familiar men into the alleyway, looking more annoyed than anything else. The three wizards, now divulged of their muggle glamours, stood smirking and arguing with each other, even leering at Hermione, before ducking a slap to the back of the head from Sirius who still stood behind them.

Hermione put her hands on her hips. "Finnegan! Thomas! McLaggen! What in the hell are the three of you doing here?"

McLaggen, the leerer, smirked. "Oh Granger, you wouldn't believe the trouble we've gone through these past four months to see if it was really you in there."

Dean Thomas, a friend of Hermione and Harry's from their Hogwarts days, stood up straighter and tried to speak over McLaggen.

"Promise, Hermione, we didn't mean nothin' by it," he said. "Just Cormac told us he thought it was you and we thought of course it wasn't, ma'am. But then we just kept coming by because well…"

Seamus Finnegan interrupted him, "Well you were so damn cute in that outfit, is all– ouch! Stop that," he hissed back at Sirius who had delivered another wallop to the back of his head.

"We only realized for sure it was you when Black started coming in every day," Dean told her. "I swear, how much money do you even have sitting around to blow at this place, Black? I mean, no offense Hermione, the place is good but it's fucking expensive," he whined.

Hermione stood gaping at the three men, the three Aurors who worked directly beneath Sirius.

Unfortunately she couldn't blame their lack of decorum on their supervisor as they'd found out her secret long before Sirius ever had. The problem now, she thought, was that they knew. And they could tell anyone.

The three were arguing once again, she noticed, and Sirius was holding McLaggen back by the robe collar. And she was exhausted.

"Enough," she called out. Sirius looked up at her, immediately releasing McLaggen and letting him fall to the ground as the other two each kicked him in the stomach and looked up at Hermione. "Listen. You can't say anything to anyone about our being here," she entreated.

"Why not," asked McLaggen from the ground.

"Because we're undercover, you idiot," Sirius supplied quickly, looking Hermione dead in the eye.

She blinked once. Twice. And quickly nodded her agreement.

"It's a very sensitive case," she added.

"Then why've you got Loony Lovegood in there with you," Seamus asked, not unkindly.

"We've contracted Miss Lovegood as a highly skilled seer," Sirius answered. His response brooked no argument from the men.

"I'm going to say this once and only once," Sirius continued, as Hermione crossed her arm over herself and leaned up against the brick building. "I don't care if you three keep coming and filling your perverted fantasies with maids, but you are to never interact with me or Hermione while you're here. Nor will you ever mention having seen either of us here to anyone, ever. We have a job to do and I will not have you creeps getting in the way of it. Understood?"

Dean and Seamus mumbled their understanding and began walking out of the alleyway. McLaggen, who had barely wiped the dirt off his robes, only smirked some more. Sirius met the man with a deathly stare, one Hermione had never seen.

Quickly, McLaggen apologized, agreed, and scurried off to his pals. Sirius stood there, in the middle of the back alley. The sun had started to set and the wind was starting to pick up and Hermione remained against the brick wall she could feel start to cool against her exposed shoulders and upper back.

Sirius turned to her, and smiled half-heartedly.

"And you were saying I'm the stalker," he teased, slowly making his way back over to her.

Hermione kicked herself off the wall gently and met him halfway, refusing to move her arms from across her center as the chill began to set in. Still, she shivered.

"Creeps. All three of them," she said, disbelief still primarily leaking through her voice.

She suddenly felt something heavy hanging against her shoulders, and realized Sirius had dropped his jacket over her. Without looking at the man, she grabbed the edges and pulled the leather tighter around her frame.

"Thanks," she mumbled.

Sirius, who was now lighting a cigarette and crouching up against Maid Latte's dumpster, scoffed. "You were cold, Kitten."

"Not that," she said, catching his eye and kicking a rock away from her. "You know. For covering for me. With the guys."

Sirius looked away for a minute and then met her gaze again. "You take your private life seriously," was all he said.

Hermione nodded.

It was uncomfortably silent for another moment. Hermione had to bite her tongue to keep from arguing with Sirius over his response to her thanks, but something stopped her.

She had wanted to point out that he wasn't concerned about leaving her private life private, as he was at the café every bloody day driving her batty. But he had, so far, kept his promise to her by keeping her secret. He could have outed her to those three idiots. She almost thought he was going to.

Instead he'd lied to them. He didn't even think twice about it, just spat out a fib for her sake. To save her dignity among her male co-workers. And he'd practically almost crucified McLaggen…

"I need to get back inside," she said, as he finished up his cigarette and stood back up.

"How much longer is your shift?"

"I'm on until ten."

"I'm going to run a quick errand. I'll meet you back here when you've finished up. Tell Violet it's someone else's turn to clean up and close tonight."

"You can't make that call, Sirius," Hermione began arguing, taking off the jacket to return it.

As he grabbed the jacket back from her he smirked. "Violet will do anything I ask. She's in love with our love, Kitten."

He was met with a heavy scowl. Laughing, he kissed the crown of her head and sauntered off towards his bike and Hermione stomped back into the café.