When Sirius opened his eyes, he found he was already locked within a honey-brown gaze. He blinked in surprise and watched curiously as a slow, luxurious smirk spread across the face of the witch encased in his arms.
Her smug stare initiated a rising heat in his cheeks and he felt a strong need to hide his face lest she see the effect of her grin on his complexion. Her hair would do, he thought. So, in an exaggerated attempt to hide, Sirius tightened his arms around her, relishing in her sleepy giggles, and stretched. He had pulled her closer to him, and buried his face in her hair bunched up at her neck.
When he took in a deep breath he was once again inundated with her faint scent of rosemary and lavender. He smiled, hidden within her messy curls. She chuckled again and he felt her free hand resting on his upper arm.
"What are you laughing at so early in the morning," he groaned in accusation. She laughed again - only this time it came out in peals. Sirius grinned wider into the crook of her neck, immensely pleased by the sound.
"I wouldn't call this early, Sirius," she chided. He only made a harrumphing sound, which he knew tickled her skin as she flinched slightly. "You forgot," she accused, poking at his chest with a single finger. He muttered indignantly.
"I did no such thing," he defended himself, pulling his head out of the warmth and comfort of his hidey-hole. But Hermione only leveled him with a self-satisfied smirk. "Forgot what," he asked, finally. She snorted.
"This," she said, running her hand along his arm to indicate their current position. Her self-assuredness faltered, for a moment as her hand met his behind her back. Sirius took the opportunity to grab her trailing fingers and lace them between his own.
"Ahh," he said, assured that he had gained the upper hand as he watched a faint blush crawl up her cheeks. "This," he smirked, gently squeezing her fingers within his own, and pulling her a touch tighter against his chest. He studied her face, and leveled her with a painfully earnest look. "Hermione, I would never forget a victory as large as getting you to stay the night in my bed."
Hermione felt the breath escape her lungs as she caught his eye. "Or any witch, right," she asked, trying to hide her breathlessness. Sirius smiled bashfully and shook his head, never releasing her gaze.
"No," he said, but it came out as more of a whisper. "Just you."
She studied his face for a minute, searching each corner of it for any trace of dishonesty. His expression hadn't changed, but his eyes darkened by a fraction. Hermione felt heat pool in the bottom of her stomach and tried to ignore the sudden restless discomfort she felt surface between her legs.
She squeezed his hand and swallowed before disentangling her own from his grip. For a brief moment, she saw disappointment flicker in his eyes, but it disappeared as soon as she timidly brought her fingers to brush across his forehead. His eyes fell closed at her touch, and she felt him hold her even tighter. She combed his hair back on his head with her fingers, marveling at the silkiness of it as it carded through her fingers. She bit her lip in contemplation, but quickly made a choice.
Her hand slipped to the back of his neck and screwed her eyes shut before pulling his head down and meeting his lips with her own.
It took Sirius longer than he'd like to admit for his head to catch up. However, as soon as he realized Hermione was kissing him, he jumped into action.
His arm slid up her back to cup the back of her head, pulling her tighter against his lips, greeting her hesitancy with whole-hearted enthusiasm. He felt her smile against his lips.
Swiftly, Sirius had flipped them over, Hermione landing flat on her back against the mattress, lips never leaving hers. He deposited himself over her, arms on either side of her head, fingers toying with locks of her curls to distract him from dragging his hands down her torso.
It was a losing battle, as Hermione wrapped an arm around his neck, nipping at his lips. He groaned in surprise, lowering an arm to grip her hip, body falling against hers roughly.
"Sorry," he whispered against her lips, and began trailing his own across her cheek. He found a particularly soft spot behind her jaw, below her ear, which seemed prime for a nip. Hermione moaned her approval, lolling her head to the side to grant him better access. He chuckled as he laved the soft bite with his tongue and peppered kisses against it.
Sirius groaned again when his lips met her collarbone and her response was to reach beneath his ratty Henley and trail her fingertips lightly across his side and abdomen. He pulled his own arm further down her side, gasping against her skin when he felt the soft silk of her shorts. His hand continued down its path, grasping the top of her calf to wrap her leg around his hip.
It was her turn to gasp, however, when she felt the evidence of his desire poke against her inner thigh.
He paused his ministrations against her throat, resting his forehead on her shoulder. "Sorry," he muttered again, panting and trailing dropping kisses on any inch of skin he could reach from his position. Hermione shook her head, grasping the material of his shirt tightly and turning her head to meet his eyes.
His was flushed when he looked up at her. "It's okay," she said, grasping his face on her warm hands. He swallowed and nodded, a small smile spreading from ear to ear. His own hand came up to cradle her face and he traced her swollen lip with his thumb, watching as he tongue darted out hesitantly to pull the digit into her mouth. Sirius's jaw slackened, watching her suck on his thumb. He swallowed, pulling his eyes away from the alluring sight to focus on her face.
He smiled. "Hey," he whispered, grinning as her eyes lit up and pulled his thumb from her mouth to gently brush curls out of her face. She grinned back, flashing him with the whites of her teeth. "Hey," she said back, butterflies erupting from the innermost parts of her chest.
He dropped his forehead against hers, eyes closed, still smiling so widely his cheeks would soon begin to protest. He breathed her in before dropping to her lips once more, in a slow languid kiss. Without removing his lips, he reached across the bed to grasp her hand where it had fallen before, and locked his fingers between hers, moaning a sigh of relief against her mouth when he felt her squeeze his hand tight.
Sirius rolled them over again, pulling Hermione up over him as he laid back against the pillows, both hands resting on the witch's waist. Hermione, caught off balance by the change in position, pitched forward and cracked her forehead against his.
"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Sirius laughed. "No need to try to kill me!" Hermione whimpered in embarrassment, and still chuckling, Sirius slid the witch onto the mattress and detangled her hair as her face burrowed into his chest. "I'm just teasing, Kitten," he whispered affectionately.
They laid there, in a heap of hair, limbs and blankets, for what felt like hours before Hermione looked up and muttered, "I need to go home." Sirius's heart sank at the words, but nodded nonetheless. They had to report back to the DMLE this afternoon, no matter how much he wanted to remain tangled up with Hermione.
Rolling off the bed, he followed her to the floo, but when she stopped to worry her lip before leaving, Sirius snatched her waist and pulled her to him. He took her face in hand and dropped a soft kiss to her lips.
"I'll see you in a bit, Kitten."
She smiled and nodded, throwing in her handful of powder and stepping into her own apartment past the grate.
Freshly showered and clothed, Hermione arrived at the Ministry on cloud nine. However, upon her arrival, she was directed down to the potion's lab, her help urgently requested by Damocles Belby.
She placed her messenger bag in the office, noting that Sirius had been in there, as demonstrated by the mug of steaming coffee on his desk. But the wizard himself was nowhere in sight.
She glanced across the bullpen before heading to the stairs and caught sight of him on the far end of the room speaking seriously with Robards and Viktor. He glanced up and caught her eye, shooting her a wide grin. Her breath caught again, and she blushed, sending him a grin of her own.
She had always thought he was handsome, but this morning – the smiles he'd shared with her – Hermione was now under the impression that he was probably the most beautiful man she'd ever laid eyes on. And those smiles, she thought giddily, were for her. It had been her he was happy to be holding when he woke up, groggy and adorable.
She had laughed at him because he had looked so honestly surprised to wake up in bed with her. His eyes had gone adorably wide when he opened them and saw her; and she'd felt her own stomach flip.
Kissing him had not been planned, but she couldn't help it after he'd so resolutely told her it was her he'd wanted to be in that position with– only her. So she went for it, and was so pleasantly surprised by the direction it had all gone.
And the way he kissed her goodbye-she'd had no words, no more worries after that. She'd reached the living room second guessing what had happened in the bedroom, thinking maybe he'd only been so responsive, so receptive, to her was because of the circumstances. But the way he'd pulled her aside before she left to kiss her again, after they'd removed themselves from the circumstances, she'd felt reassured. Reassured that it, in fact, was her that he wanted.
She wanted him, too. She just had to find the chance to tell him.
She spent a majority of her day working with Belby, the old Potion Master sending her to and fro, collecting ingredients, testing ingredients with eye droppers and whatever other tasks he needed her to do as it was technically, he said, her fault this potion had been expedited.
When 5 o'clock rolled around, Belby exclaimed they would be ready to test the potion's antidote before lunch the next day. Hermione was relieved to hear it, and made her way up to her office to check on the victims and collect her bag before heading out to the cafe.
"Separating us today was probably a good call," she heard Sirius say as he trailed into the office after. Curiously, she glanced over her shoulder as she watched him close the door behind him and head toward her desk. She turned to face him fully.
"Why do you th–" but Hermione was cut off when Sirius pressed his lips to hers, instinctively grabbing her waist with one hand and burying the other within her mass of curls. Not knowing what to do with her own hands, which hung limply at her sides, she wrapped them around the man's waist and gripped the back of his robes.
The kiss was slow and sweet and Hermione nearly forgot where they were. His tongue teased at her lips, though, and soon the sweet kiss became a dance of tongues and Hermione found herself pressed between Sirius and the suddenly sharp edge of her desk.
Gently pushing him back, Hermione hopped up on the edge of the desk and opened her legs for Sirius to stand between. He took his position naturally and carded his fingers through her thick hair as he watched the focus return to her honey eyes.
"I've been thinking about doing that all day," he whispered, dropping another soft chaste kiss to her lips, followed by one to her nose. Hermione snorted.
"Did you manage to get any work done between your daydreaming," she teased, grinning up at him and closing her eyes as another chaste kiss brushed her lips. "I did, actually," he murmured, kissing her lips again. Then he dropped his forehead to hers and sighed. "Viktor and I managed to track down another victim in lower Hogsfield. He's pretty good at what he does."
"You played nice," Hermione stated, but it came out as more of a question. Sirius dropped a kiss to her forehead and hummed his confirmation. He lifted his head slightly to catch her gaze.
"Of course I played nice, Kitten. I have a job to do," he bristled. Quickly, however, his features melted back into his signature teasing smirk. "Besides, it was my bed you spent the night in, not his. Figured I'm safe for at least a little while."
Hermione snorted and began assaulting his chest with a single finger, looking triumphant. "So you were jealous," she exclaimed. Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Of course I was jealous," he defended. "Can you blame me?" Hermione leveled him with a look that made his face heat up. He gulped. "He's a good looking guy! And you," he accused, wrapping a curl around his index finger and watching it spring u., "You're gorgeous. I'm old– I thought I wouldn't stand a chance."
"You're not old Sirius," she chastised, slapping his hand away from her curls. "Older, sure, but not old." She hopped off the desk and brushed past him to grab her bag, but he caught her hand in his, picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder.
"Maid Latte," he asked, a single eyebrow raised. She smiled and nodded, squeezing his hand.
What Hermione hadn't expected when she walked out onto the floor was how dreadfully busy the cafe was for a Thursday evening.
Luna, clad in her perfectly laundered dress and apron, busied herself in the corner of the dining room stacking fresh pastries on the display. Lucy and Violet were in the kitchen trading plates to bring out to their tables.
Rose, true to fashion, was smiling demurely at a table of two smartly-dressed business men. She took their orders and turned toward the kitchen, face stretching into a fierce scowl as she snapped the orders to Misaki and Honako. Both cooks traded looks and flipped the busty blonde off as soon as her back had turned.
"Mia," Rose snapped, "your two regular tables are waiting!"
Hermione peeked over to the corner nearest the windows to see Dean and Seamus at their seats, draped forlornly across the table as they waited for her to take their order.
Toward the center of the floor, Sirius sat in his corduroy jacket, flicking through papers in his orange briefcase. She chuckled at the sight of the incongruence, and startled when the man looked up to catch her eye and winked.
Although the heat climbed up her face, Hermione smirked back at him and coolly made her way back over to the idiots' table. The chime over the door rang behind Hermione as she took Seamus's order; she glanced briefly in the direction, but failed to glimpse where the bulky man had seated himself.
After taking Dean's order, she took the ticket to Misaki and prepared Sirius's tea service.
"Looks like lover-boy has company," sing-songed Violet, who scurried past her maids into the back room with a trolley of dirty tablecloths.
Curiously, Hermione peeked out toward Sirius's table and saw a familiarly buzzed head and hunched shoulders facing her partner. Sirius glanced up, carefully meeting her gaze with a subtle shake of his head.
The warning was clear: do not approach the table, confirming her suspicions as to the identity of the man sitting with Sirius.
Viktor.
"Luce," Hermione started, indicating toward the carefully prepared tea tray, "do you mind-,"
"Oh, for Christ's Sake," Rose snapped loudly. "If you can't do your goddamn job each time someone might recognize you, bloody stop letting your boyfriend come here!"
The whole waitstaff stood in silence, glancing between the two maids.
"Fuck," Rose huffed, and grabbed Hermione's tea tray from her grasp. "I'll fucking do it."
The angry maid stormed across the floor to the table, Hermione hot on her heels. Schooling her features, the taller woman smiled and placed the tray on the table between the men.
"Here you are masters," she acted the part. "I hope you enjoy it."
Sirius was throwing panicked glances at Hermione, but Hermione's eyes were locked on Viktor who instead of looking at and recognizing her, was sitting stunned looking ill in Rose's presence.
Rose, in turn, had dropped the facade, eyes widened in genuine terror.
"Dr… dragostea," Viktor stuttered and Hermione's heart sank with realization. Her pity was short lived, as Rose's expression swapped terror for a blank mask.
"Shit," she uttered, and quickly produced a wand from her hair bun and flicked it in the air.
Three things happened all at once. Sirius leapt from the table and threw himself in front of Hermione to shield her from whatever spell was protruding from the tip of the strange witch's wand. A thick cloud of wispy silver fog descended throughout the whole cafe.
Everyone inside the store collapsed in place as the swirl of mist traveled swiftly into their lungs. Every patron, maid and cook was summarily knocked out.
In the corner by the windows, however, as Seamus Finnegan collapsed in his own seat, a silver fox from his own wand slipped out the open windows and leapt into the air in the direction of London.
The first thing she smelled when she slowly regained her senses was mildew and dirt. The first thing she felt was a cold and heavy rough weight against her wrists and tight synching at her ankles. The first things she heard were two irritated female voices, hissing in disagreement some three or four yards away, though she couldn't understand the hushed words.
When she tasted blood on her tongue, her eyes snapped open to take in the scene.
What she assumed had been a cave, was actually cellar-type room, with murky water collecting in one of the concrete corners. She, Sirius and Viktor were chained to adjacent walls from one another, and as far as she could tell, she was the only one to have regained consciousness.
Rose and an older blonde stood behind a table of potion ingredients and discarded cauldrons near the unoccupied wall. The older woman, dressed in modern fashioned Wizarding robes bore a strong facial resemblance to Rose, who leaned cross-armed against a shelf of heavy tomes.
Hermione looked around quietly, taking in the rest of her surroundings before the two women realized she'd woken up. There were cauldrons, oozing with green and purple, and occasionally gold, fluids piled on one another in every corner of the room. To her right, Hermione found a closed door, adorned with a giant open padlock swinging from the hook.
There were several drips around the room - one from the ceiling, which Hermione noticed was likely from the built up condensation crawling up the walls and across the slanted cement covering. Another drip was sourced from a small window well just over Sirius's head on the wall opposite her. The window was small, nowhere large enough to qualify as an escape route for three fully grown humans.
The third drip was much more helpful as far information was concerned. The liquid escaping a blackened pipe in the uppermost corner between Hermione and Viktor's sleeping form was brown and thick. Not water.
The growing puddle beneath the drip was suspiciously solid, not sharing in the obvious viscosity of the other two puddles. The liquid seemed to partially solidify before reaching the ground, causing a build up of a mushy, waxy looking substance. Hermione grinned. Grease.
With Water filling up the outdoor window's well on a day she was sure wasn't rainy, Hermione guessed they were still in Blackpool, in an ill-advised cellar built into a high water table. She glanced around the room and confirmed signs of water damage to all the bottoms of the wooden structures. Swelling, cracking, expansion of shelves and posts, rusted nails protruding from warped studs, and patches of black mold - all obvious signs of flooding.
Grease drippings, she concluded, meant there was likely a restaurant above them. If she was lucky, it would be Maid Latte.
The maid cafe didn't sell many savory goods, so there wouldn't be much build up of beef fats, but they did use an extraordinary amount of bacon, which had always held a distinct smell. Any other eatery would produce grease smelling like a strong mixture of various fats – Maid Latte's would smell overbearingly of bacon, as Sirius had complained one night of covering for Honako when Misaki made him clean out the grease traps.
The only problem was that Hermione couldn't get close enough to the greasy pile to give it a good whiff without alerting Rose.
If they were in a cellar below the cafe, Hermione felt safe in the knowledge that there were two fully trained Aurors and a capable seer still upstairs. And if Hermione was waking up, there was a good chance they would be, as well.
"Why, Miss Mia, you're awake," came Rose's sickly sweet Maid Latte voice. Hermione snapped her head up look at the woman in the face.
"You're a witch," was all she managed to reply, only just realizing her colleague had been successfully disguised as a muggle the entire time she'd known her – nearly seven months.
"Well that's not a very nice thing to say to someone, Miss Granger," Rose continued, now sitting on the potions table while the other woman continued stirring one of the bubbling cauldrons and rolling her eyes. "They used to burn women for those accusations."
Hermione fought to keep her own eyes from rolling, feeling her hackles rise in annoyance at the woman's voice.
"What's the point of this, Rose?"
"The point is Violet hired you six months ago and completely ruined our plans. Our progress has been so slow since you started here because I had to actually start hiding things," Rose whined. "I could have continued as I'd been if you had just been another witch – I kept things hidden from Loony Miss Lulu just fine. But you," she laughed, "you're a fucking Auror."
"Okay," Hermione said, pleasantly. "But you haven't actually told me what you're doing." A small explosive sound came from the cauldron the other witch was working over. "Who's she, then?"
"Oh," Rose said. "How rude of me," she gestured toward the woman, "Zara is my sister."
Hermione sniffed, pulling a face at the putrid smell coming from the cauldron. "So what? We're running an illegal potion ring in the Maid Latte cellar as a small family business?"
"You think you're funny," Rose asked, standing straight and stalking toward Hermione.
"No, I'm just not getting any straight answers," she bit out.
"Nu te mai juca cu ea. Bate-o," Zara snapped. Rose huffed. Hermione felt yet another cold trail of dread make its way around her stomach.
"Romanian," she asked Rose. Rose simply stilled, her stare cold as ice. She and Hermione both subtly threw a glance at Viktor's prone form, and sized each other up again.
"I would have recognized you anywhere," said Rose a moment later. "Viktor never stopped prattling on about his little sister. English little muggleborn chosen sister, so accomplished, so smart. 'Hermione trains to be Auror,' he'd tell me. 'Sestra says you have right to feel sad.' It was all I could stomach to have to hear anything else about you," she laughed humorlessly. "When Violet said she'd hired a girl named Hermione Granger, I almost blasted my own brains out. I'd finally gotten away from Viktor and now I had to deal with you?"
"You could have left. It's not like Violet was forcing you to stay," Hermione said, feeling blood start to pool under her fingernails as she dug half-moon cuts into her palms in badly concealed anger.
"But you see, I couldn't leave. This was base. It was my job to keep wizards away from this place, to keep the magical population from sneaking around. Luna made things difficult. As stupid as she is, she's strangely perceptive. She'd heard me speaking to Zara in the alley and the next thing I know Hermione Granger is applying to be Miss Mia."
"You still haven't told me exactly what this stupid operation is. As far as I know, you're sister was involved in Ministry business - research."
"Yes, research," Rose repeated, a sickly grin spreading across her face. "But who made you think it was for the ministry?"