The Art of Love

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The days passed so fast that neither noticed when two weeks had gone by, or the amused looks passing between Remus, Bill, and Harry at what they thought were unnoticed signs of their growing intimacy. The way Sirius would rest his hand on her lower back when they walked together, the way she danced her fingers over his arm when she passed him in the kitchen or the hall, the way they would always seek out the other when they entered a room; both oblivious.

More and more they could be found together in front of the fire in the library. He was often in dog form, stretched over her legs as she read out loud. They would play one another in chess while making threats and accusations of cheating or unfair advantages, both laughing.

It was late one night, and they were wrapped around each other, both breathing hard and resting their well sated bodies when Sirius finally breached the topic she had been avoiding, and the reason why their fling had started in the first place.

He kissed her damp forehead and stoked her hair as he spoke, “Tell me about Ron.”

Hermione sighed and closed her eyes, nibbling her lower lip, “Why? What does it matter?”

“Well, it matters a lot if a beautiful and intelligent lady enters into a sordid fling with a guy like me.”

Hermione tried to hide her hurt expression, but he caught it, and gripped her chin tightly, holding her to his kiss. “Sweetheart, I’m not complaining, I’ve enjoyed your company very much; that‘s why I want to know.”

She breathed and relaxed against his larger body again and spoke softly, “I fancied myself in love with him, but I – I never felt sexy with him. He always had this way of making me feel like some passionless robot.”

Sirius snorted and licked the column of her neck. "Impossible, you have more fire then anyone I know, and that‘s saying something."

“I tried to talk to him about it, thinking that maybe we just needed something extra, you know, so I went out and brought some lingerie and a naughty school girl outfit. I was about to bring them out, when he said the problem was that I was a cold ice queen. He said I was frigid and the only reason he’s gotten involved with me was out of pity.”

Sirius growled and pulled her closer, swearing under his breath as he held her protectively, kissing her hair and face. Suddenly he pulled back and glared down at her, “There is a naughty school girl outfit in this house and I wasn’t informed?!”

Hermione giggled and snuggled against him. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so safe, so cared for, and so content. “I worked out that he was wrong the first night with you,” she shrugged and looked at him slyly, “But you were doing so well that it seemed a shame to interrupt.”

Sirius grinned smugly and chuckled. “Hmm … two weeks of not interrupting,” he murmured into her throat as he rolled her onto her back and parted her thighs with his knee. “That has to be a record for you, isn’t it?” He captured her mouth briefly. “Do you think you can keep it up for the full month, my little witch?”

Hermione smiled, her eyes filled with all the excitement, joy, and relief she was feeling. “I don’t know, you’ll have to perform pretty well to keep me satisfied.”

“Minx,” he muttered, taking her mouth again.

~*~*~

After the most frustrating Auror’s meeting Sirius had ever attended, in which Moody had been the only attendee to make any sense (and that was saying something), the usually happy-go-lucky wizard stalked into number 12 with a glower that would make Lucius Malfoy himself cower. He stalked straight up to his room so as not to snap at and probably offend Hermione.

He was mildly surprised at his thoughtfulness at this time, but still too pissed off to dwell as he slammed his door, made his fireplace almost explode as he lit it with his wand, and threw himself, with a huff, into his favourite leather chair.

The woman in question had been sitting in the kitchen at the time, and had seen the seething wizard slam into the house and up the stairs. As much as she wanted to go to him, she had known him long enough now to know that when he was angry he preferred to work it out himself. After a moment Hermione pulled the beef and vegetable stew she had made earlier and made a pot of tea.

Then with a bottle of firewhiskey and one glass in hand she headed up the stairs as quietly as she could, deftly avoiding the squeaky board. The young witch placed the bottle and glass by his door, knocked loudly, then ran down the stairs and swung into the library, where she intended to spend the evening reading.

Sirius threw open his door, and glared at the empty door way. But on seeing no one to yell at he looked down to see a bottle of hundred year old firewhiskey, a shot glass, and a note. The wizard felt his anger drain out as he took her gift inside, an almost goofy grin spreading at the fact that she knew him so well as not to try and get him to talk when all he wanted to do was brood. Sitting back in his chair, he opened the note:

Sirius,
When you’re feeling better, there is some hot stew and a pot of tea in the kitchen. Snivellus (and his ridiculously large nose) has summoned me into their presence tomorrow, so if I don’t see you, goodnight & good morning.

Yours,
‘Mione

Sirius chuckled at her “Severus Joke.” It was an old one, and one that she would have scolded him for. His grinned widened as it hit the man that she had thrown it into make him smile.

~*~*~

It was much later that night when Snuffles came padding into the library to find Hermione reading by candlelight. She looked up and smiled warmly at the huge back dog as he drew closer, whining softly, his head lowered, and his huge blue eyes soulful. She put down her book and dropped to her knees in front of him, letting him nuzzle at her throat as she wrapped her arms around him.

“Hello Snuffles,” she whispered while she scratched him behind his ears the way he liked, “Are you feeling better?” He whined again and licked up her throat, making her laugh and splutter. “You know Snuffles, as much as I love you …” She giggled when he pinned her back and curled his long tongue around her ear, making her tremble in a way that was disturbing considering that Snuffles was a dog. “I think I’d prefer Sirius’ tongue right now,” her voice cracked as she spoke, gasping when he laved the junction at the base of her throat, caressing over a sensitive spot that never failed to make her arch, and mew.

Within seconds the dog changed into a tall, dark haired wizard, his mouth hot and demanding as it took hers, his hands roving freely down her simple white house dress and groaning when his fingers touched her warm, smooth thighs. “Are you sure about that, Brown-Eyes?” Sirius murmured, his fingers sliding easily up her inner thigh till his thumb reached her already soaked panties. “Seems to me you were enjoying his company quite a bit,” his hot breath tickled her ear as he spoke, chuckling as the flushed witch below him mewed, and arched against his fingers.

“Shut up,” she growled, glaring up at the man above her as he grinned smugly back. “Snuffles certainly smelt a lot better.”

Sirius chuckled again and pulled her harder against him. “Well, you know, I won’t be the one adding bestiality to her repertoire,” he teased and rolled back laughing when she struck at his shoulders. Still laughing Sirius pulled the younger witch to her feet. “Come on, it’s time for your next lesson Miss Granger,” he said in his most authoritative voice, pulling her with him as he walked briskly towards the bathroom.

He threw her inside, laughing when she squealed. “I have to say, love, it smells like you’re in need of a wash as well,” he said smirking when she spluttered indignantly and shoved against his chest.

“I do not!” she yelled, her face flushing. “You take that back! You – you …”

Still grinning smugly he tipped his head to the side and raised a single brow, “Dog?”

Hermione compressed her lips and seethed silently, as Sirius pulled the top off a small bottle of mouthwash with his teeth. With a wink, he filled his mouth, flicking his head back, pulled her close, and kissed her hard, his lips searing and his arms like a vice as he pushed the minty liquid into her mouth with his tongue. She responded instantly, smoothing her hands up his bare shoulders and weaving her fingers into his hair to pull his lips more forcefully against hers, her mouth burning with the alcoholic mouthwash and the man beneath it.

When they pulled back, both were breathing hard. Sirius leaned in and unzipped the back of her dress, while she unbuttoned his pants. “Shall we – spit into the sink together darling?” he purred and laughed when Hermione coughed and slapped his arm.

“You are so weird,” she spluttered, laughing, totally unaware that she was now naked. She looked down at herself and squeaked. “How did you do that?”

With a flick of his hand a few muttered words the shower was poring hot and strong, “A gentleman has to have his secrets, Brown-Eyes,” he murmured, his mouth by her ear as he dragged the giggling witch into the shower with him.

Hot, steaming water sprayed down over the two nude forms moving seamlessly against one another in the cloudy bathroom. Sirius’ large tattooed hand slid wetly over Hermione’s back, down her spine, and lower to cup her firm arse, pulling her more firmly against him as his mouth devoured hers. Her fingers were drawing intricate patterns over his thighs and buttocks.

“Such a dirty wizard,” she purred and nipped at his jaw line, enjoying the way he groaned and shuddered under her hands.

“Such a deviant little witch,” he purred back, raining kisses over her face while he slowly ran his hands down her arms, pulling them upwards over her head as his hands slid towards her wrists. He grinned wickedly at her as he secured her hands, magically, high above her head and took her questioning squeak into his mouth, kissing her passionately and grabbing the soap from the side shelf.

Hermione’s mewing cries filled the bathroom, echoing off the tiled walls musically while Sirius lathered her wet, tingling body with sweet smelling soap. His lips grazed roughly over her throat and jaw, his own groans melding and weaving as he explored her wet silken body. The water pored down over them both, rinsing away the white fluffy suds down their shiny bodies to pool around their feet.

“Merlin you’re beautiful,” he said gruffly against her lips, his hands sliding down her slippery body, dipping into the curve of her waist and fanning over the roundness of her hips, before traveling back upwards to cup her full, dripping breasts. Her hardened nipples pressed against his palms, and she let her head fall back, revealing a long column of throat. He licked the droplets of water of her shoulders, throat, and jaw while his hands kneaded and his thumbs dragged over her nipples.

“Sirius …” she hissed loudly, curling her leg around his hip, trying to gain friction to the area pulsing and aching between her thighs.

“And so bloody responsive, baby,” he moaned into her hair as he tucked his hand under her knee and lifted it higher so her thigh was resting on his hip. “Part of me wants to keep you tethered here forever,” he murmured into her ear, smiling when she shuddered. “My own, willing, wanton, sex slave,” he said with each word punctuated with a needy wet kiss, while he positioned himself at her soaking entrance.

“Oh gods!” Hermione cried and swiveled her hips, trying to force him inside. Her mind was reeling with his heated words and her body burning with need. “You never needed to tether me, I’ve always been yours.”

Sirius growled ferally at her words, biting down on her shoulder as he thrust deep. Both cried out breathlessly at the tight, wet fit and neither wanted to wait for Hermione to adjust to his girth, instead moving together feverishly, Sirius thrusting deep and fast, Hermione arching up to meet every thrust, wrapping her other leg around him.

Hermione thrilled and arched, pulling against the invisible restraint at her wrists, while Sirius took her roughly, his mouth sliding hotly over her breasts, laving one nipple then the other with his coarse tongue, and his fingers digging into and bruising her arse as he thrust repeatedly.

She flickered open her eyes just in time to see him looking back at her, his gaze so intense she felt the need to look away, but couldn’t. The raw, unmasked lust in his eyes held her captive as hers did him. They each whispered the other’s name breathlessly before Sirius grabbed a handful of her hair and held her in place as his lips lavished her, his tongue thrusting deep and demanding her all as his lower body pumped faster, harder, deeper.

He released her hair and slipped his fingers between their bodies to stroke roughly over her swollen clit. “Can’t hold back,” he whimpered against her lips and Hermione felt herself climb higher, “Please Mione - Gods please come with me …” And her world exploded around her, the desperation in his voice, filling her mind and her body, his name screaming from her lips as she shook.

She opened her eyes again to watch him finding his own completion. He was looking down at where they were joined, watching himself piston in and out, and his mouth wide as he took deep panting breaths, his long black hair plastered to his head and shoulders, his blue eyes flashing. A loud, cracked cry spilled from his lips and his eyes clamped shut tightly as he shuddered.

He was beautiful, breathtaking. Tattoos covered his chest and arms, which on some men would be off-putting, but not on Sirius Black. On him they were perfect. Each had its place and each had a meaning close to his heart, his pain, his love, his loyalty, his very soul laid out so clearly. When he finally opened his eyes again he grinned wickedly on noticing her gaze.

“What are you thinking, Brown-Eyes?” he asked, his voice still husky as he steadied the witch on her feet and untethered her wrists. He shut of the water and walked effortlessly with her in his arms to his room.

“I was wondering, if I were to get a tattoo, what would it be? And would you be with me, when I got it? Would it hurt,” she laughed at the last part, “What were you thinking?”

He chuckled as he laid her on his bed and crawled under the warm covers with her. “I thinking that I’m pretty sure Remus knows –” he started, flicking his fingers between them, “–about you and me, only being Remus he probably thinks we’re more involved then we are.” He ran a single finger down her arm, not meeting her eyes. “I was wondering if that would bother you, him thinking you were unavailable, I mean?”

Her mind clouded with confusion at his words and even more at the way he was avoiding her eyes. “Sirius, I don’t understand has he …” but she was cut off by his mouth on hers, passionate, hungry and she responded with equal vigour, all thoughts vanishing as he manipulated her once again with his skilled hands and talented mouth.

~*~*~

Hermione woke to daylight streaming in through the bedroom window, but it looked different somehow. It took her a moment to work out that she wasn’t in her room, but someone else’s room. The tired witch blinked twice to clear her vision, and then sighed with contentment at the feel of Sirius’ arm tightening around her belly. His warmth at her back and his growing hardness unfurling against her bottom made her tremble and heat again.

Suddenly her mind filled with their conversation last night, did he think she had feelings for Remus? If he did he didn’t seem to like the idea very much. In fact he’d gone out of his way to make her forget the whole conversation, and even more out of his way to make her moan and scream his name over and over. She giggled, how could she want any other man when she was with this tattooed god? Since when had “The Sirius Black” ever been jealous? She was just plain, nerdy Hermione. Was it possible that he was jealous of her “feelings” for Remus?

A wicked thought ran through her mind and grinning madly she rolled onto her back, eyes shut tight as she curled her arms around his throat and mewed when he growled low in his chest and planted hot lingering kisses over her throat. His hand slid smoothly down her body and she arched against him and began to murmur, “Ooh Moony, your hand feels so good.” Pulling his hand down between her thighs, she stifled a giggle when he stiffened at the mention of Remus. “Yes, right there, my big bad werewolf.” She cracked open an eye, almost falling off the bed laughing at his scowling face.

“Think you’re funny witch?” he growled, pushing her roughly into the bed and using his large muscular body to cover her smaller one.

“Very funny,” she whispered, her eyes dancing while she punctuated each word with a languid kiss, “I’m a very, very funny witch.” She pushed him back as she whispered so that she was leaning over him, smiling down at his lazy, hooded eyes. Her hands stroked over his broad chest, so familiar now after two weeks of what she was calling their fling. She stopped herself there, having promised herself not to over think, and just enjoy this time.

“You’re jealous,” she said with a smug grin, it was not a question.

“Never, don’t be ridiculous,” he returned, with a well defined pout which she just had to kiss, bringing a smile to his handsome face.

“Admit it,” she sang softly into his ear, running her fingernails over his ribs, “You were jealous.” Giggling at the way Sirius pursed his lips, trying hard not to laugh as she tickled him gently at first, but getting more merciless as he resisted. They continued this escalation until he was laughing hard and demanding that she stop on pain of death.

By the time she stopped they were both laughing and gasping and the sheets had all but balled up on the floor. They lay side by side for a long time, till their breaths calmed and finally Sirius mumbled something. “Iwasjealous.”

A little smile touched Hermione lips and she turned her head towards him, “I’m sorry, Mister Black, but I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I was jealous,” he said his voice husky as he said the words he had never thought to say. “You two are so much alike, you both like reading, and you’re both so smart, the voice of reason behind your circle of friends.”

Hermione straddled the suddenly unsure wizard and grinned down at him. “You know, you think too much,” she said sternly, holding up a single finger. “You need to relax and forget.” She smirked at him while he rolled his eyes, before running her tongue over the Azkaban brand, feeling his muscles flex under her hands as her mouth traveled lower, over his flat stomach, and lower till her hot breath was caressing his quickly hardening erection.

“You’d better be careful, Brown-Eyes,” he said quietly, licking his lips and groaning as she licked swiftly up the shaft of his cock, “A man could get awful used to this.”