Author's Note: We would like to dedicate this to the girls of the Twin Exchange, for inspiring the idea of a kissing booth.

This is our submission to the Twin Exchange March Challenge!

Prompt: disaster

Pairing: Sirius/Hermione

Quote: Do you have any idea what you've done?

Theme: St. Patrick's Day


The Art of Kissing


"It's all in the approach, you see. Birds love the confidence."

"But how do you know when it's appropriate?"

"Honestly? I've never been turned down."

"Never?"

"Nope."

"You've never been rejected when going in for a kiss? I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it, boys. Never happened."

There was something truly grating about the smug confidence in Sirius Black's voice that made Hermione Granger, arms loaded down with several rolls of canvas, roll her eyes with mild disapproval as she caught the tail end of what she assumed to be an aggravatingly masculine conversation as she stumbled into the foyer of Grimmauld Place. Huffing slightly from carrying the misleadingly heavy rolls twelve blocks from the apparition point, Hermione was in no mood to listen to any more as she tossed her heavy curls out of her face and charged into the kitchen where three of the men in her life were lounging around the worn table.

"I don't suppose he's mentioned that the likelihood most of these 'birds' are at an acceptable level of sobriety when he goes in for his approach is minimal, has he?" she said as she entered, revelling in the way Sirius, Harry, and Ron all jumped as she sailed passed them to heave her load on to the counter. "After all, no self-respecting woman, witch or Muggle, falls for a man simply because his lips approach hers in an manner that isn't entirely off-putting."

"Always a ray of sunshine, kitten. I'm amazed your clairvoyance into the minds of your sex hasn't gained you fame and fortune by now," Sirius responded with an easy smile, though his grey eyes revealed his mild agitation with the fact that she always managed to get the better of him.

"My insight into the minds of my gender only really applies to those who actively use their minds, Sirius, and therefore I doubt you'll run the risk of running into any who share my opinion whilst on the proverbial prowl," she replied, slightly winded but triumphant nonetheless as she turned to face her favourite verbal sparring partner.

A year after the final battle – and Sirius's mysterious yet not entirely unwelcomed return to the land of the living – had done nothing to curb the razor-sharp wit that often rolled off the tongue of the brilliant Muggleborn. The raven-haired animagus, however, spent most of his time with her testing the limitations of her temper, and more often than not the two went from engaging in a spat of friendly banter to all-out shouting matches that usually ended with their friends either sending them to their respective corners to cool off, or heading for a location far away from the pair's wicked wand hands.

They usually apologized – or at least conveniently forgot – the next day, returning to a life of mutual respect and appreciation until the next round of raucous arguing. This love/hate relationship had caused many of their friends – with Remus and Ginny leading the charge – to speculate that the two would make phenomenal lovers. Others, however, including Harry, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley, were more of the mindset that the only way the two would ever tolerate each other romantically would be when the first few signs of the Apocalypse were upon them, and reality had faded to surreal chaos.

The idea of any sexual tension between them had the two brilliant magical beings in hysterics, and tended to be the only thing they agreed on wholeheartedly. To Sirius, Hermione was just too damn smart for her own good, a trait that he himself possessed but disliked immensely. To Hermione, Sirius just didn't know when to keep his big trap shut.

"What's with the canvas, 'Mione?" Ron asked, noting the narrowing in Sirius's eyes which usually meant he was gearing up for a fight, and deciding the safest course would be to change the subject.

"Your sister shoved them into my arms as I was leaving Diagon Alley. She's just finishing setting up for the St. Patrick's Day fair tomorrow and wanted me to bring these here so she could paint the signs tonight with Dean," she explained.

The grand re-opening of Diagon Alley had been one of the most highly anticipated events in recent memory, second only to the downfall of Lord Voldemort. The upcoming Irish holiday seemed like the perfect excuse for a day of drunken revelry. It had been on everyone's mind for months, as well as saturated in magazines, newspapers, the wireless, and every other possible mode of communication that existed.

Hermione was already sick of it.

"Ah yes, the fair is tomorrow, isn't it?" Sirius mused, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back in his chair in a pose of easy relaxation.

Hermione arched an eyebrow.

"Can't put anything past you, can we, Sirius? Glad you're keeping abreast of current events," she deadpanned.

He winked.

"I keep abreast often, Miss Granger."

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Hermione shook her head and started back toward the kitchen door, deciding that after lugging the rolls through the unusually warm March day, she deserved a nice, cool bath. Harry's voice, however, stopped her before she could escape.

"I don't suppose you'll be…er…going to the fair, eh Hermione?" he said in a voice that was all-too-innocent.

She slowly turned.

"I hadn't planned on it, no," she replied, appraising her best friend with her best 'and-you-better-not-interfere-with-my-plans-or-else' face.

"You're not going?" Sirius asked, genuinely surprised.

She arched an eyebrow.

"Sirius, when in the entire course of our relationship have you ever known me to go to these inane celebrations?" she asked.

"But…it's the re-opening!" he said, his eyes wide with imperative sincerity. "You have to go! Merlin, I don't know anyone who isn't going."

"Exactly," she replied. "Too many people, too many crowds, and too much of a headache for me to bother. I've spent the past two months working in Diagon Alley with Ginny. I deserve a break."

"Er…yeah. About that…" Harry said, giving her the most apologetic smile he could muster. "We actually need you."

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head resolutely. "No no no no no. I told Ginny I would help with set-up, but that was it."

"Yeah, but…well, Oliver had to drop out at the last minute. Dragon pox, you see. And so…"

"Harry James Potter, if you're going to ask me to do the kissing booth, you've got another thing coming!" she snapped.

"Please, Hermione?" Harry begged. "You would really be helping us out."

"I'm not going to sit in a chair and let some slobbering drunks pay a sickle to paw me," she said.

"Who said anything about pawing you?" Ron said sharply. "I'd kill them."

Hermione smiled at her ex-boyfriend, slightly grateful for his continued possessiveness. While it was sometimes annoying to see him narrow his eyes and give her dates the third degree, it was moments like this that she appreciated his continued over-attentiveness to her well-being.

"You're not going to be alone with a bunch of drunks, 'Mione," Harry said. "Sirius is going to be there too."

Hermione glanced at the pureblood and then back at Harry.

"Ah yes," she said sarcastically. "Because spending a day sitting next to him is definitely motivation for me to say 'yes'."

"Jealous, Granger?" Sirius asked, a slight smirk gracing his full lips. "Worried that some little witch is going to steal my heart away from you?"

"Tell me, Sirius, because I've always been curious; how are you able to get around with a head as big as yours? Honestly, I'm amazed you're able to get through doorways, considering the size of your ego."

"The size of my anything is hardly your business, kitten."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted, seeing the faint flush appear on his best friend's cheeks. "You would really be doing me a favour."

Hermione sighed.

"What's the likelihood I'll get out of this discussion without agreeing to anything?" she asked.

"Slim to none," Sirius responded for his godson.

Closing her eyes, Hermione allowed herself the briefest fantasy of laying about all the following day, knowing she would have nothing to do and no one to bother her. Then she allowed the image of Ginny's frantic, slightly-manic figure bursting into her room and forcing her to do what she wanted at wand point.

As much as it pained her to admit it, Sirius was right. She had no choice.

"Alright," she agreed reluctantly. "I'll do it. But the minute someone does something inappropriate, I'm gone!"

"Deal," Harry said, his face relieved that he was able to get through the discussion unscathed. Hermione was sure he was probably expecting at least one hex being hurled in his direction.

"Oh, kitten, it's going to be magical," Sirius said with a grin. "Pretty birds for kissing and you for sparkling conversation – I think I'll be in heaven."

"Welcome to my hell," Hermione mumbled before pushing the door and stalking up the stairs for her bath, convinced the next day would be an unqualified disaster.


"Give us a kiss then, love."

Hermione swallowed the bubble of disgust that threatened to surface as she reluctantly puckered up for one of the dozen or so pasty-faced, acne-covered, arrogant gits that had come to the kissing booth almost immediately after Ginny had made an infuriating announcement of Hermione's participation. It had barely been half an hour, and Hermione already regretted her decision.

She stared at the desperate fool who was grinning at her with a mouth full of yellowing half rotted teeth and she had to fight to suppress her shudder of disgust.

"That will be one sickle," she ground out, pointing to the tin at the corner of her table.

"How's about a freebee? Just between you and me," he winked lecherously, "I promise not to tell anyone."

Hermione opened her mouth to respond, when the silky masculine voice she had been attempting to ignore cut off her nasty reply.

"You heard the lady, one sickle or you can bugger off."

Sirius sat beside her in the elaborately constructed booth that was every bit as colourful as the rest of the fair. He had dressed for the occasion in a pair of leather pants that looked poured on and a shirt that practically begged women to explore his chest and all those muscles and tattoos that insisted on peeking out at them.

He stared down the balding wizard with a look that promised serious pain, going so far as to bare his teeth in an unmistakable growl. Faced by an accused murderer and still believing that Sirius was capable of causing the kind of hurt that could land him in St Mungo's for a very long time, the man turned his blinking eyes back to her, running a shaking hand through his almost non-existent hair.

Muttering to himself, the man deposited a sickle in her tin and leant forward with lips shining with spit, his eyes closed tight. Hermione had the good sense to turn her head at the last minute, catching the sloppy kiss on her cheek; almost certain she felt his tongue take a long swipe.

Feeling the bile rise in her throat, she jerked back from the man only to find him grinning down at her with an infuriatingly smug expression on his face, "I'm staying in room 109 at the Leaky," he said, before blowing her another kiss, casting Sirius a look of brave defiance and sauntering off.

Hermione tried to ignore Sirius's laughter beside her as she leant under the table to dry gag, swiping frantically at the wet patch on her cheek, certain she would never be able to wash off the feeling.

"This isn't funny," she hissed over his chuckles.

"Oh, I don't know about that. If I had known today was going to be so amusing, I would have brought a camera," he replied, watching her with elbows propped on the table, finding her slightly green.

Hermione was struck yet again by just how gorgeous Sirius could be when he put in a little bit of effort. It was any wonder he had barely had a chance to breathe since they started the whole kissing booth thing, women were just willing to queue up to get a chance to touch the infamous ex-convict, even women like…

"Millicent," Hermione greeted, a wicked grin spreading across her cheeks, which were slowly regaining colour.

She watched as Sirius turned to look at the rather bulky woman who had approached the booth. His Adams apple bobbed up and down sharply as the full extent of her height and girth filled their small structure. Millicent had truly filled out since school had ended, and was intimidating in any situation.

"I didn't think kissing booths were your sort of thing," Hermione commented, trying not to laugh at the look on Sirius's face, instead she found herself smiling until her cheeks hurt.

If Millicent thought this incredibly warm greeting was odd, then she didn't show it as she smiled back sheepishly, "They're not, but my cousin came by here before and well…" she turned and waggled her eyebrows at Sirius, who had turned rather ashen.

She turned to Sirius with a rather suggestive wink, leant across the table and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him forcefully toward her and smacking her lips to his. Hermione choked on her laughter as Sirius's knuckles turned white and Millicent kissed the living daylights out of him.

"Ah Millie, you might want to let him breathe," she wheezed when the other woman didn't seem to planning on pulling back anytime soon.

The Slytherin woman pulled back with a large Cheshire cat grin plastered on her face. Sirius slumped back in his chair, his eyes glazed and his hand rubbing over his swollen lips over and over again.

"Gertrude was right," Millicent purred, "I'll be seeing you around," and with that she turned on her heel and sauntered from the booth.

The laughter that Hermione had been trying to contain bubbled out and filled their colourful tent. It took Sirius several more moments to recover from the over-exuberant kiss, his breath slowly returning and the dazed expression turning into a scowl.

"Not funny, the woman could have killed me."

"Ah, but what a sweet way to go," she giggled, wiping the tears from her eyes and ignoring his murderous expression.

"I think your last gentleman and Millicent Bullstrode would make a lovely couple, they could practice their kissing skills on one another," Sirius commented, running his hands through his hair.

Hermione had to look away as that partially exposed chest rose and fell with such a casual movement, focussing instead on watching the hundreds of witches and wizards pass from cart to cart outside their tent.

"Who's to say it was Millicent who was the bad kisser, then? It could have been you who just lacked the skills in kissing which a women of her, ah… nature required," she grinned.

"I'll have you know that my skills as a kisser are known far and wide in these parts," he bragged.

"Really? You're that bad? I would have thought people would have been kinder to try and keep such gossip from reaching your ears," she said with a mock gasp.

She caught his glower from the corner of her eye and waited for him to respond, "There are few who have mastered the true art of kissing, and I happen to be one of them. So I would be careful what you say, kitten."

Another wave of laughter burst from her chest and she managed to snort out.

"Art of kissing? Honestly."

Sirius opened his mouth to respond when a deep voice interrupted them.

"What's so funny?" Charlie Weasley asked, making them both turn to look at the entrance where the muscular redhead stood.

"Charlie!" Hermione cried, jumping from her seat to round the table, hugging the older Weasley man.

"How's my favourite witch?" he asked, hugging her back.

Hermione and Charlie had spent a lot of time together at the Burrow after the end of the war when he had moved home temporarily to be with his family. Their easy friendship had surprised a lot of people, but Hermione had found him to be smart and funny and had enjoyed his company over many late night drinks. They still exchanged owls when they came across something they thought might be of interest to the other.

Charlie's presence in Diagon Alley was a complete surprise to her however.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, kissing his cheek in greeting.

"Decided I couldn't miss the party of the year, especially not when my own sister organized it," he explained, slinging and (an) arm around her waist and turning to Sirius, "How's it going, mate?"

"Fine," Sirius replied in clipped tones.

Hermione noticed his eyes darting from her face to where Charlie's fingers played lightly on her stomach. If she didn't know the man so well she would have guessed that his shortness with Charlie was bought on by jealousy.

"That's good," Charlie grinned, ignoring the short response and giving her a squeeze, "Do you mind if I steal her for a few minutes, we just have..."

"Actually mate, I'd rather she stay here. We're supposed to be doing a job," Sirius said, a rather forced smile straining across his face.

"That's fine, we'll catch up here since you seem to be having a slow afternoon," he shrugged, sitting on the edge of the table.

Hermione moved around to sit back down, but Charlie got there first. Hermione giggled slightly as she ended up landing on his lap. The muscular redhead smirked up at her, wrapping his arms around her waist and setting his chin on her shoulder.

"So," he said, his pale blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "A kissing booth, eh?"

"Blame your future brother-in-law," Hermione said, her eyes swinging to Sirius, who was sitting glaring into space, seething with barely-restrained frustration. The look alone caused her to arch an eyebrow but considering her afternoon had gotten infinitely better and her chair infinitely more comfortable, she decided to ignore it for the time being.

"Harry? Harry convinced you to do this and you didn't separate him from his manhood?"

She chuckled.

"The thought had crossed my mind, but the poor thing is so stressed because your sister can truly be a force to be reckoned with when she's put in charge of something."

Charlie laughed.

"Yeah, she nearly took my head off when I told her I might not be able to make it. One of the dragons just had a baby and so you can imagine the issues. We're short-staffed as it is. Anyway, I flooed her to let her know it was a possibility and the words she was using almost singed my eyebrows off."

"I thought you came here of your own accord?" Sirius bit out, seemingly unable to keep his mouth shut. "Didn't you say you couldn't miss the party of the year?"

Charlie gave the animagus a bemused smile.

"Well…yes…but not without a little coaxing. C'mon, Sirius mate, you can't tell me that you decided to do this kissing booth thing willingly."

Hermione laughed, looking at her partner.

"Are you joking? He jumped at the chance. He's been kissing so many witches I'm amazed his lips aren't chapped."

"Not the worst plan in the world," Charlie admitted. "Plus, you get to spend the day with 'Mione here. I could think of worse fates."

"I couldn't," Sirius mumbled, his arms now crossed and the look upon his face reminding Hermione of a petulant child who couldn't get his way.

"Oh, come on," she teased the raven-haired man. "We've been having a few laughs. You were even going to tell me about the art of kissing."

Charlie poked her playfully in the stomach.

"I have a feeling you're in no need of a tutorial, Miss Granger."

She grinned cheekily.

"Pay a sickle to find out, my good man."

"Only a sickle? That's a steal if I've ever heard one." He dug into his pocket and deposited three sickles into the tin. "That's three kisses, if you please."

Hermione smiled, thinking that her day had just brightened exponentially as she leaned in to give the good-looking redhead a taste of her talent. Just as her lips were hovering over his, however, the doorway darkened slightly and an indignant cry was heard.

"Charles Weasley! You said two minutes!"

Hermione turned her head to face the entryway and had to hold back a chuckle as she saw Ginny's petite frame, hands on her hips in a look that screamed her mother. What made Hermione's laughter bubble, however, was the fact that Charlie – easily a good foot taller than his little sister – quickly stood when he saw her.

"Er…sorry, Gin. Won't be a mo," he said with a sheepish smile. His younger sister shook her head, her glossy red locks slightly manic from her constant running around.

"You told the Weird Sisters you would help them set up. This is supposed to be a surprise concert, Charlie. If one of them has to get up on the stage to unpack then…"

"Yeah yeah, alright, Ginny, keep your hair on," Charlie said with a sigh. Turning to Hermione, who was almost doubled over in hysterics, he gave her a grin and ran a hand through his thick hair.

"Um…raincheck?" he asked.

"No problem, Charlie," she said with a smile, and stood on her tiptoes to give him a chaste kiss. "Now you only owe me two."

He smiled, and followed his demanding sister out of the tent.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?!" Sirius exploded the minute the pair was out of earshot and Hermione had barely recovered from her laughter.

She blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"Do you have any idea what you've done?"

"What I've done?"

"Yes, what you've done! You were…you were mooning all over him!"

Her brow furrowed.

"Firstly, Sirius, I hardly mooned. Second, why on earth do you care?"

"I don't!"

"Clearly, you do."

"Well…it's bad for business. Showing favouritism."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Sirius Orion Black, if I didn't know better I would think you were jealous."

He scoffed, though it came out a bit too quickly for his liking.

"Jealous? Me? Of him? Hardly."

"Aha," Hermione said, a knowing smile on her face as she settled into her chair again.

They sat together in comfortable silence before the flap of the tent opened and Lavender Brown walked in. Hermione's jaw immediately tensed as the pretty blond flipped her long, glossy hair over her shoulder and threw a winning smile at Sirius.

"Hello Mr. Black. Hey 'Mione," she said with a smile, though the grin toward Hermione was far from what the brunette would have called friendly.

"Lavender," Hermione said politely, but she was sure Sirius heard the bite to her tone because the slow, arrogant smirk that Hermione secretly thought of as sex on wheels appeared across his face.

"Lavender Brown," he said silkily, his grey eyes giving the younger witch an appreciative once-over that had the blond blushing slightly. "Ron's told me about you."

Hermione tried to control the impulse to grind her teeth.

"Ron's such a sweetheart. Shame he's taken," Lavender said, the comment aimed more toward Hermione than to Sirius.

"Not such a shame, really," Hermione said sweetly. "He and Luna are very happy together. At least, that's what I assume from all the sex they have."

Sirius nearly choked on his laughter as he saw the feigned innocence on the bookworm's face. While he knew that there was a little bit of bad blood between the two Gryffindor women, he was certain that given the chance, Hermione would trounce her former classmate in a battle of wits any day.

"Yes, well," Lavender sniffed. "Seamus and I just broke up, so I was just being a bit nostalgic."

"Bad break-up, eh?" Sirius said, his face simulating empathy though the emotion did not reach his eyes. "Seems like you've come in here for a brief moment of amnesia."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Lavender blushed again.

"If you don't mind, Mr. Black," she said, making a show of taking out two sickles and placing them in his tin.

"Mind, love? I live to kiss pretty young witches."

Hermione turned away quickly, trying to reign in her gag reflex as she heard Lavender giggle. Though she knew that Sirius was putting on a show, she wished he wouldn't enjoy it so much.

She also wished she knew where the envy was coming from.

"Now, you go enjoy yourself, yeah?" Hermione heard Sirius say, followed by another of Lavender's very coquettish – and very annoying – giggles. "Forget all about that little Irish so-and-so."

"Thank you, Mr. Black…Sirius," Lavender said, and Hermione turned just in time to see Lavender wink at Sirius and slip him a piece of parchment which Hermione was sure had the young woman's address.

"Precocious little…" Hermione murmured, but Sirius's triumphant smirk shut her up.

"Hermione Jane Granger, if I didn't know better I would think you were jealous," he mimicked, a bark of laughter following his parroted statement.

Hermione seethed.

"You know, I do enjoy a good snog now and then," Sirius said happily, tucking the piece of parchment in a separate tin he stowed under the table that was already halfway filled with other pieces of parchment he had collected throughout the morning. "Leads to positively sinful shagging. What do you think, kitten?"

Gathering up all of her wits again, Hermione gave him a haughty look.

"A lady never kisses and tells," she said with a small smirk.

He arched an eyebrow.

"I've been watching you today, kitten. You don't seem very enthusiastic about kissing the men that come in here. Enthusiasm is key to a good kiss."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"There's only been one person who's come in here that I've been even remotely interested in kissing, Sirius, and his sister dragged him out before I had a chance to prove to you my kissing prowess."

"Alright, fair enough. But how about this. Next person who comes in here looking for a kiss from you, you give your all and prove to me that you have what it takes to be in this booth in the first place."

Hermione felt her temper flare.

"Firstly, I didn't want to be here to begin with, so it's not like I'm looking for a qualification. And second, I have as much of a right, if not more, to be in here. I don't need your pointers on approach or enthusiasm. I haven't gotten any complaints."

"That you know of," Sirius added.

Hermione didn't know if she wanted to slap him or kiss him. The smug smirk was doing funny things to her belly, but the defiant air around him made her want to punch him.

"Next person who comes in for me – I will prove to you that I belong here."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, hearing the bustling of footsteps outside the booth and knowing that the rumour of the Weird Sisters' "surprise" concert had spread like wildfire. Due to the lack of traffic, Hermione was sure that everyone was trying to congregate around the stage to get a good spot.

Just then, the flap of the tent opened, and Parvati Patil walked in, looking somewhat sheepish.

"Hello there," Sirius said with his winning smile, and Hermione sat back with a sigh, readying herself for yet another round of Sirius's smug charm.

"Er…hello," Parvati said with a small smile, but Hermione was completely thrown when it was her tin, and not Sirius's, that Parvati deposited her sickle.

"I…er…hope this is okay," she said awkwardly, blushing as Hermione stared, wide-eyed, at her former classmate. "I just…well…I figured…if there was ever a time I would get to…"

Hermione smiled gently, a twinge of triumph settling in her as she saw Sirius's slack-jawed, unblinking gaze from the corner of her eye. Standing, Hermione walked around the table to stand in front of the shorter woman.

"It's absolutely fine," she said quietly before slowly leaning in, cupping Parvati's face gently as she tilted her head to the side. Their lips made soft contact, closed but curious, and Hermione tried not to smirk as she heard Parvati give a sigh, deepening the kiss just slightly before pulling away with a blush.

"I always knew you'd be a brilliant kisser," she said as she moved to leave the tent. "But now I know just how brilliant, it's a shame you're not more interested in women."

Hermione grinned.

"You're first on my list if I start, alright?"

With a final blush, Parvati walked out.

Emboldened by the surge of sexiness she felt at being desired by someone as gorgeous as Parvati Patil, Hermione slinked over to Sirius, who was still watching with wide-eyed amazement. Throwing her leg over, Hermione settled herself on his lap, looking deep into his eyes.

"Don't. Ever. Question. Me," she said before smirking and standing up again, making to walk back to her chair.

Sirius's hand suddenly curled around her wrist, however, stopped her.

She heard the scrape of his chair before she felt herself being tugged into his hard, muscular body, her breasts pressed against him as his arms coiled tightly around her waist. Looking up into his face with questioning eyes, she saw a bright, fiery spark building in his grey orbs, narrowing with desire.

Then, his lips were upon hers.

Never before had Hermione felt so entirely consumed by a kiss. Sirius drank from her like a man starved, prodding, pushing, seeking, needing. His tongue sought hers and danced a passionate tango, searching every corner of her mouth.

Hermione gave as good as she got, duelling her tongue with his, tasting him as completely as he was tasting her. Her fingers dove into the silky strands of his raven hair, tugging him closer and deepening the kiss as their bodies pressed closer together.

Sirius slipped his thigh between her legs, pressing upwards and revelling in her gasp against his lips. Cupping her buttocks with his hands, he lifted her up, wrapping her legs around his waist until she was settled against his prominent erection. She writhed against him, wanting to feel him closer to her aching core.

The clatter of tin and sickles echoed as Sirius swept his hand across the table before depositing her upon it.

"Wait," Hermione managed, pulling away from his lips as his hand slid under her t-shirt, his fingers already deftly removing her bra.

"No," he replied, pressing himself between her legs and leaning in again for the kiss that he was suddenly so addicted to.

"Not here," she breathed. "Someone will catch us."

With a groan, Sirius pulled his wand from his back pocket and with a careless wave, the growing sounds of excitement around them dimmed and the flap of the tent seemed to sew itself to the rest of the fabric.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked, breathless as he tugged her t-shirt and bra off in one go.

"Gave us privacy," was all he replied with before diving for her neck, his hands sliding up her body to cup her breasts. "Jesus, kitten, your tits are gorgeous."

"Will you shut up and kiss me?" she growled, pulling on his hair until his face was level with hers once more.

His fingers plucked at her nipples, sending her arching into him just as his lips met hers in a kiss that would have surely had him permanently banned from the kissing booth. Hermione moaned, deepening the contact between them, desperate to feel more of the man who had tormented her all day.

Sirius's hands were everywhere: her breasts, the dip of her waist and the wide band of her jeans where he spent several long moments fumbling with the buttons before he was free to explore the smooth, sensitive expanse of her lower abdomen.

Hermione shivered, her hands clawing at his shirt, her fingers travelling under the fabric to explore the hard tattooed muscles she had secretly longed touch. He pulled back from her mouth panting, tugging at her jeans with a new sense of urgency, pausing only to pull his shirt over his head.

"We should slow down," he panted, still tugging at her jeans, making better way with them when she lifted her hips to help.

"Probably not the best idea in this situation," her laughter turned into a gasp when his hands ran up her legs and to the waistband of her knickers, "Besides, I don't think I could handle going slow right now."

"Is that so?" he asked with a grin, kissing a path down her neck, between her breasts and straight to her naval.

"Please Sirius," she moaned, arching into him, tugging on his hair again to get him to do something, anything, to ease the urgent ache that seemed to be fogging her senses.

His tongue flicked at her belly button while his hands splayed wide on her waist and with very little effort he flipped her and placed her face down on the table. Her toes found the ground as he pulled her jeans all the way to her ankles.

Hermione's focus was brought keenly back to him the moment he stepped between her thighs and moulded his chest to her back. His fingers trailed up her thighs, making her body quake as he came closer and closer to her throbbing core.

"You're so wet for me," Sirius groaned against the back of her neck, cupping her with his whole hand and pressing hard against her. Rather than relieving any tension his touch only made her squirm for more.

She pushed her body back into his, rotating her hips and making them both groan. He pulled his hand back a little then, and gave her what she wanted, his finger making a broad swipe of her lips. Hermione shuddered and moaned, her already heated body practically catching fire from that one focussed touch.

He repeated the move, circling her clit with his thumb, which caused her to let out small whimpered sounds of pleasure.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to fuck you," he growled, inserting one long tattooed finger into her body, making her gasp.

"Then fuck me," she panted, "Please Sirius, just fuck me."

She was rewarded with the sound of a zipper and moments later the long, hard length of him pressed between her cheeks. He pulled his body off of her, the cool air making her shiver again, but she wasn't cold for long because moments later he was pressed against her opening and setting her body alight.

Sirius's fingers bit into the soft flesh of her hips when he pushed in with that first, impossibly long, thrust. His grip eased as he pulled back with a groan, followed by her own garbled sound. From there she lost all awareness except for the man behind her who was building up his own pace and taking her along for the ride.

Hermione gripped the edges of the table and gave herself into the push and pull, the dragging slide and the unbelievable heat generated between them. Sirius's thrusts were slowly picking up in speed and it was all she could do to remember to breathe.

"You're so tight," he whispered, bending over her to kiss her shoulder, "So beautiful."

His words and the feel of him pressed so tightly to her back made her gasp and she began to feel the first stirrings of her orgasm. Slow pulsing waves radiated from her core and out to her stomach and limbs and she began to push back against him, wanting and needing him to go faster and harder than before.

Sirius took her unspoken signal and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing as much of himself into her until the only thing that was moving was his hips. She felt him penetrate deeper than before, hitting places deep within her that made her see stars.

"Fuck, that's it," he cursed against her back, as her walls tightened around him.

Hermione felt her orgasm sweep through her, the almost milking contractions making her cry out loudly as the man behind her continued to spur them on. Her whole body shook and her legs threatened to give way beneath her, but all she could focus on was the pulsing between her legs and the man who suddenly tightened up around her.

Her head was turned around to meet him moments before his lips crashed down on hers with a loud groan. She gasped against him as his tongue surged into her mouth and his body found release in hers. They rocked together through their release, prolonging the sensations as long as possible, but even when it was over, he never stopped kissing her.

Hermione pulled away first, gasping for a breath as she let her head fall on the table top. She could feel Sirius's forehead press against her spine, his deep, hot breaths warming her quickly-chilling body. Somewhere far off, Hermione heard the strains of music from the popular wizarding band, accompanied by the excited screams of the fans at the fair.

Not in a million years, however, would she have given up the opportunity she had just experienced.

"You're uncharacteristically quiet," Sirius's voice grumbled behind her, and Hermione chuckled slightly.

"I could say the same about you," she replied.

"I'm just trying to figure out why the hell it took us so long to actually do this."

"I think the general reason is that we don't like each other very much."

"I think we disproved that."

"Oh, I don't know," she mused, a small, secret smile on her face.

A loud 'smack' sounded just milliseconds before Hermione felt a stinging pain against her buttocks. Turning her head to glare at him, he smirked with an arched eyebrow.

"I think I've found a new way of shutting you up, kitten," he said with a grin.

Her eyes darkened, but a new thrill flew down her spine as Sirius, his eyes still glued to her, absently rubbed the red spot that was appearing on her right cheek. There seemed to be a quiet understanding that passed through them in that moment – an understanding that this was not the end, but the beginning of a brand new facet of their admittedly-complicated relationship.

A facet both looked forward to exploring.