A/N: So...in honour of the day of my darling beta's birth, I present this EXTREMELY belated oneshot for consideration. I can only hope that it meets with general approval.

Special thanks to pelespen for taking a look at it, and for chompthecrocodile for her support throughout the process!

Poker Night

"And so I said to the vicar, I said, 'Terribly sorry, Father, but I didn't think anyone was watching.'"

Raucous laughter followed this statement, bouncing off the walls of the sturdy yet cozy Burrow and vibrating up the stairs and through the corridors. It reached a busy, bushy-haired brunette on the third floor, causing her – not for the first time – to jump and tip her precariously-perched ink bottle all over the three foot long piece of parchment she had been working on.

"Oh for fuck's sake," she murmured to herself, an angry wave of her wand siphoning the ink back into its bottle and leaving the parchment relatively unharmed.

"Loud bunch, aren't they? Good thing you had the foresight to charm that parchment," Hermione's current roommate and friend, Luna Lovegood, said from the other side of the small room, earmarking her place in the book she was reading. Hermione was certain the book contained more fiction than fact.

"Under normal circumstances they're not quite this loud, but it sounds like Sirius and Charlie are going head-to-head in who can tell the raunchiest stories," Hermione replied, silently wishing she had taken Sirius's kind offer of the quiet of Grimmauld Place while the Burrow was occupied with the Weasleys' monthly poker night.

Hermione had politely declined the suggestion, thinking that past poker games had never been too distracting and she could work moderately undisturbed.

Clearly, putting Sirius Black and the usually-absent Charlie Weasley in the same room changed matters.

Another gale of happy laughter shook the house, and when Hermione looked at her watch, she was appalled to find it well past midnight.

"I'm gonna go down and tell them they need to be quiet. I'm surprised Mrs. Weasley hasn't told them off yet," Hermione said, standing and stretching her weary limbs as best she could in the cramped quarters.

"Molly went to Muriel's for the night," Luna replied, unabashedly using the Weasley matriarch's first name. Though the older woman had insisted that Luna, Harry, and Hermione – all in their twenties and truly capable of behaving like adults – use her first name, Hermione had yet to break the habit.

"That would explain why they haven't disbanded," Hermione murmured to herself, thinking – not for the first time – that Mr. Weasley was entirely too indulgent for his own good in the absence of his wife's loving smothering.

"If you'd like to go down and tell them off, I'm sure you know they're not likely to listen," Luna said sagely, knowing that the likelihood of any of them actually acknowledging Hermione's plea bordered on the likelihood of pigs spontaneously taking flight.

Hermione couldn't help but reluctantly agree.

"Luna, would you be insulted if I went to Grimmauld Place for a few hours? It's just, this report needs doing and I'd prefer not to worry about spilling ink all over it, no matter how well I charmed it. Plus…I don't really work well in confined spaces…"

Luna smiled slightly.

"I remember. The Gryffindor table in the Great Hall was about the right size for you and your work sometimes."

Hermione chuckled slightly at the not-entirely inaccurate exaggeration.

"Have a good night, Luna. And get some sleep if you can. We have lots of plans for you tomorrow night," she said, smiling mischievously. With Luna and Ron's wedding set for the weekend, their respective hen and stag parties were being meticulously planned by their overly-excited friends. Though Hermione's alacrity didn't quite match Ginny's – who, with two children at home and a third on the way, was a little more enthusiastic about a night away from dirty nappies – she always enjoyed spending time with her girlfriends as the rigours of her work with the Ministry didn't give her much time to socialize at all.

"I'll be sure to prepare thoroughly for the upcoming debauchery," came Luna's airy reply, her response somewhat muffled as she disappeared behind the pages of her book again.

A flick of Hermione's wand had all of her parchment, books, files, and quills neatly in her attaché case, and with a small smile to her ethereal friend, she left the room.

"Miss Granger!" Sirius's aristocratic lilt floated over the haze of pipe smoke as an involuntary cough gave away Hermione's presence as she tried to slip by the preoccupied bunch.

"Ah…yes. Hello," she said, somewhat sheepish amidst the group of men. She often felt that way when confronted by the full force of the good-looking gingered men that made up the Weasley boys, but adding the sinful deliciousness of Sirius Black's devilish good-looks made her blush furiously. Even Remus Lupin – whom she had always equated as nothing more than a platonic figure – cut an impressive figure with his chiselled yet rugged appearance.

In short, it was all she could do not to melt into a puddle when faced with such a plethora of man flesh. It exacerbated her single status even more when she was in their presence.

Sometimes life just wasn't fair.

"What inspired you to try to creep past us without so much as a friendly 'good-bye'?" Fred asked, though from the twinkle in his blue eyes she knew he wasn't nearly as injured as he was making himself sound.

"Ah…well…didn't want to interrupt," she replied lamely.

"Since when?" Ron asked, his cheeks pink from drink.

Hermione blushed again.

"I…you all just seemed…well…"

"You're particularly articulate tonight, Granger," George teased.

"Yes, spit it out," Fred added.

Hermione threw the mischievous pair her most haughty glare.

"I can't win, you know," she huffed. "If I pass by without an acknowledgment, you act hurt, and if I had announced myself you would've told me I was interfering."

"Aw, don't be like that, love," Sirius said with that grin that Hermione had always thought of as sex on wheels. "Here. Sit."

He stood gallantly and offered his chair, but when she went to sit, he quickly manoeuvred himself back into it so she landed gracelessly on his lap.

"Now now, Sirius, don't be cheeky," Remus scolded.

"She's not complaining," the Animagus replied, his long, tattooed arm wrapping around her.

"Would it have mattered if I did?" she asked with a small smile.

"Probably not," Bill responded jovially from her right. "But what brings you down here so late, Hermione?"

"You lot," she replied, trying not to be distracted by the way Sirius's fingers were playing on the exposed patch of skin between her t-shirt and her jeans. "Do you realize how loud you are?"

"Ah, there's the little bossy swot we know and love," Fred said with a grin.

"I only came down in order to go to Grimmauld Place,' Hermione explained, ignoring Fred's comment. "If I'm to be one hundred percent present for the parties and wedding this weekend, I need to get my work done tonight. Which I can't do with you all laughing so hard the house shakes."

"Terribly sorry, my dear," Sirius said, sweeping her hand up to his lips and drawing his lips lightly over her knuckles. "And you going to Grimmauld is a topping idea. Charlie and I probably won't be back for hours."

"Won't be where?" a voice said from behind her and Hermione craned her neck to see the one man who could bring all of her cranial functions to an absolute standstill.

Charlie didn't usually come home from Romania unless it was something he absolutely had to do. In this instance, he came back for his brother's wedding, though it took a little convincing and Ron's pleading to get him back. He had been staying with Sirius mainly because Hermione and Luna had stolen his room, but more likely because it was further away from his demanding family.

Hermione had always enjoyed Charlie's company, not only because he had similar ideas on the treatment of magical creatures, but also because at five-six, broad shoulders, muscular frame, blue eyes, long, shaggy red hair, and an arse that seemed to defy all logical forms of gravity, Hermione enjoyed the view immensely.

"'Mione's staying the night at Grimmauld," Harry said in answer to Charlie's query, the boy-who-lived's eyes barely open as the combination of fatherhood and firewhisky left him in a stupor that Hermione was sure the twins were taking full advantage of.

"I didn't say I was staying the night," Hermione clarified. "I'm just going over there for some peace and quiet."

"You're not staying the night?" Charlie asked as he sat down to her left, his blue eyes locked on her. "Why not?"

"Yes, kitten, why not?" Sirius added. "There's plenty of space. And I'm sure Luna would appreciate the extra solitude for the night."

"Wait. Lunas'lone?" Ron slurred, looking uncomprehendingly at Hermione.

"Yes, Luna's alone, you twit, that's why bossy-boots here is downstairs," George mocked, smacking Ron upside the head to drive his point home.

Ron scowled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Jus'fer tha…I'mma gonna leave," he said, getting unsteadily to his feet. Pocketing his modest pile of galleons – some of which were spilling onto the dusty floor – he weaved through the group and disappeared up the stairs, falling against the walls as he went.

"There ya go," Charlie said, a touch of triumph to his tone. "No point in going back to the room now, what with those two shagging like bunnies."

"Drunk, drunk, drunk bunnies…" Harry mumbled as he finished the last of his mead.

"Right. So stay at Grimmauld tonight," Sirius finished, smiling affectionately at his barely-conscious godson.

"It would be nice to spend some time with you," Charlie added. "We haven't seen each other in awhile."

Hermione looked from Charlie's twinkling blue eyes to Sirius's mischievous grey ones and knew that – whether she liked it or not – the decision had been made. Rolling her eyes, she removed herself from Sirius's lap and retrieved her attaché case.

"I'm taking my old room," she announced. "Please do try to be quiet if you decide to come back raging drunk."

"We promise absolutely nothing, gorgeous," Sirius said, giving her a wink.

"Besides," Charlie added, the mischievous twinkle in his eye rivalling that of his twin brothers. "Who's gonna tuck us in if we don't wake you up?"

Hermione swallowed hard at the idea of the two most eligible – though admittedly very content – bachelors in the wizarding world wanting her to tuck them in. She didn't miss the twinge of resentment at the idea that she was only good as a caregiver, but she pushed it away as images of decidedly less-noble things she could do with either of them once behind closed doors came to mind. The resentment was quickly replaced with raw sexuality that shivered sensually up and down her spine.

"I'll be going now," she said, trying to get the huskiness out of her voice from Charlie's innuendo. "See the rest of you tomorrow."

"Bye, 'Mione," the twins said in sing-songy unison, the look in their eyes giving her the unnerving feeling that they could see every single thought as if she had just had projected them through her forehead. From the chuckle that rang through the rest of the table, however, it looked like the twins were the only ones that noticed, and with a few casual waves, Hermione left the boys to their cards and headed to the floo to get to the quiet – and blissfully distraction-free – of the Black family library.

A loud crash pulled Hermione from the brink of sleep and she bolted upright in her bed. She had only just decided to lay down, but Queen Mab had descended so sweetly that she had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The crash – and Mrs. Black's resulting screams of ill-will – had yanked the young brunette out of Dreamland and onto her feet, rushing to the door with her wand at the ready wearing naught but a purple tank top and matching panties.

Not a particularly frightening combination in hindsight but at least she could manoeuvre easily if she had to.

"Oh, shut it, you blustering old bat!"

The slightly-drunken slur made the muscles in Hermione's body immediately relax, though she now lamented the fact that she was wide awake after being so rudely started from her sleep. Sirius and Charlie were stomping up the stairs with little consideration of the noise they were making. Hermione watched them, wand still in hand, but hands poised disapprovingly on her hips.

"I suppose it didn't occur to you that at three o'clock in the morning, some of us might actually be sleeping?" she asked the two as they hit the landing. They both looked up at her with nearly identical, sexy-as-sin, lopsided grins.

"Soooo sorry, kitten," Sirius said, bowing deeply and stumbling on the faded floral carpet that Hermione had always thought of as utterly hideous. "Please accept the apologies of two extremely well-meaning but forgetful gentlemen."

"Apology my arse," Charlie said, blue eyes glinting as he surveyed her from top to toe. "If I knew it would get her out in the open in her knickers I would've brought the bloody house down."

Arching her eyebrow, Hermione felt the gazes of both men upon her body. A slight thrill went through her at the idea that she could inspire them to look at her like that.

"Well, if you promise to behave, I might just forgive you," Hermione addressed to Sirius, trying to ignore Charlie's hungry gaze to stave off the embarrassment of blushing at his cheeky comment.

"Behave?" Sirius asked, a broad, mischievous smirk crossing his face. "Never, love."

With an agility Hermione thought impossible of any human being – let alone a drunk one – Sirius bounded up the remaining stairs two at a time and swept her up into his arms, grinning like an idiot the entire time.

Hermione squealed in surprise before narrowing her eyes at him and beating her fists against his shoulders as he started to walk into her room.

"Put me down, you…you…you drunken brute!" she cried, trying to ignore the havoc her body was starting to go through at the feel of his calloused fingers gripping the soft skin on the back of her thighs.

Sirius laughed, his voice as clear and sober as she had ever heard it before.

"As you wish, princess," he said, tossing her effortlessly upon the bed and grinning as Charlie entered the room, closing the door behind him.

There was a predatory look in both their eyes as they approached her slowly, and had Hermione been a lesser woman who didn't know them as well as she did and who wasn't as desperate for a shag as she was, the young know-it-all would have been mildly terrified. Her body, however, was a mass of nerves and goose bumps just by the mere presence of the two men, and in the back of her mind she wondered if she was still dreaming, and didn't know it yet.

"Tell me, Hermione, do you normally colour-coordinate your knickers with your clothes?" Charlie asked as he inched toward the side of the bed. "I'd like to know, you see, so I can add detail to the delicious images in my mind every time you walk into a room."

"Personally, I like to pretend you don't wear anything under those prim little outfits of yours, but I'm adaptable," Sirius added with a grin.

Hermione felt very much like deer in headlights as she looked from one man to another, unsure of what to say or do as they slowly slinked closer and closer to her. An extremely aroused deer in headlights, but the analogy still applied as her vocal chords suddenly decided to go on strike.

It was Sirius who noticed her prolonged silence, and he hesitated slightly.

"Hermione, we're just joking around," he said, his eyes calm and kind as he looked at her. "We didn't mean to scare you."

"No, we didn't," Charlie said, seemingly sobered by Sirius's acknowledgment of her silence. "I mean…we meant what we said, but we would never…that is, not without your express permission…"

They both stopped moving, looking at her tentatively and in a moment of incomprehension and utter lust, her vocal chords decided to call off their strike and the first words Hermione spoke were the words that had flown through her mind.

"Get your dicks over here and ravish me."

She clamped her hand over her mouth, blushing scarlet as the two men looked at her with absolutely stunned faces.

Then they broke into identical smirks.

"I think that's her express permission, Charlie," Sirius said, kneeling on the bed and running a finger over the top of her foot and up her shin.

"I'll say," the redhead replied, also kneeling on the bed but crawling up towards the pillows.

"Shut up, the both of you," Hermione breathed before pulling Charlie down and kissing him deeply, her hands diving into the soft tresses of ginger beauty that she had secretly wanted to touch since the moment she had met him.

Hermione completely forgot the other man in the room for a minute as she felt herself devoured by Charlie and his soft, sensual kisses. His lips pressed against hers with a fiery need but he held back – teasing her – as he gave quick, shallow kisses until she was breathless and panting.

Then he claimed her lips and in the millisecond of space she had between rational thought and complete nothingness, she wondered what on earth she had been doing with other men if Charlie's kisses were really what kissing was all about.

There was a passion in the redhead that she had only really caught a glimpse of when he was with his dragons. She knew then that Charlie would be a passionate lover. He had that streak in him that she had always wanted to taste but never knew quite how to approach the subject. She had always had a feeling that "come over here and kiss me" would not instigate the response she desired.

Point to them for proving her wrong.

Point to her for saying it in the first place.

Hermione felt a pair of calloused hands sliding up her stomach and pulling her shirt from her body. In the back of her mind, she could feel sensual circles being drawn on her thighs so she was almost positive that the hands that were now doing ridiculously delicious things to her breasts were still Charlie's. His lips had left hers and were journeying down her neck, and had she been in a more cogent state of mind she would have noticed his body shift to the side as he moved.

As it happened, the lingering lap on her inexplicably naked clit made her jump and cry out as shockwaves of pleasure jolted her body into alertness.

"Sirius…" she hissed, hand flying to the head of shaggy black hair that was clamped between her thighs. She didn't hear his deep chuckle as much as feel it – vibrating through her body like the strike of a tuning fork. The Animagus's talented tongue made broad sweeps, pushing her slowly toward the first orgasm she had experienced in a longer time than she dared admit.

Meanwhile, the redhead attached to her chest was running his fingers over her stomach, caressing the sensitive skin while Sirius and his tongue stoked her fire. Charlie's lips teased her nipples, nipping and suckling but not enough to bring about that back-arching shudder that only the best sex could instigate.

"Fucking…Merlin…" she moaned, fingers digging into Sirius's scalp as two fingers slowly entered her body, his tongue becoming more insistent as the slow push-pull of his digits turned her body into a writhing mass.

And still Charlie remained infuriatingly mild in his touch and kisses.

"You taste so fucking good, kitten," Sirius growled, his tongue propelling her closer and closer to her climax.

Had she been aware – which she knew she hadn't been for several minutes now – she would have seen a knowing look past between the two men.

In an instant, Hermione felt Sirius's fingers curl, putting pressure on a spot within her that had never before been touched. At the same time, he gave long, lingering lap at her clit while Charlie came out of nowhere to claim her lips and give her nipples a light but firm twist.

Hermione felt her world come undone.

Her back arched. Her skin tightened. Her vocal chords released a stream of words that would have had most sailors in wide-eyed disbelief. A fistful of black hair in one hand and a fistful of red in the other, Hermione didn't care how hard she tugged. Her body shattered with utter pleasure.

Panting, she dared to open an eye to see both men grinning at her. Sirius had a very smug, cat-that-ate-the-canary look to his eye, but she forgave him because it was entirely deserved. Charlie's eyes, however, had darkened to a dark, almost midnight blue that made her heart leap and her body shiver with another thrill of desire.

"Both of you. Clothes off," she said, her voice shaking as she thought of what the two delicious men looked like under their clothes.

"Demanding little thing, aren't you?" Sirius joked, his fingers going slowly to the buttons of his shirt. Charlie, however, had no hesitation, and shucked his t-shirt and shorts before Sirius had gotten to the third button.

Hermione's breath left her briefly when she realized that Charlie hadn't been wearing underwear.

Trusting the redhead to know what to do if she let her attention drift from him momentarily, Hermione let her attention fall on the grinning dark-haired man in front of her. He had only gotten halfway down his buttons, but already she could see the dark canvas of ink behind the dark silk of his shirt. Nostrils flaring, Hermione sat up on her knees and moved towards him.

"Here," she said, looking him dead in the eye as she gripped his lapel. "Allow me."

With a strength she hadn't realized she had, she ripped the shirt from his body. Buttons flew as she pushed it determinedly from his shoulders, ignoring the arched eyebrow and the amused twitch to his lip.

"I liked that shirt," he said mildly as her fingers rushed down to fiddle with the button of his sumptuous leather pants.

"Deal with it," she breathed, looking up at him and catching his lips as she snaked her hand beneath the leather to grasp the hard length that had been creating a very nice bulge. He sucked in a breath as she inched the leather down his hips to release his erection, one hand still holding him but not moving as she felt the heat pulse through her palm.

"You'll be the death of me, kitten," he growled before pulling her to him.

While Charlie's kisses had been demanding, he was nothing like Sirius. Sirius dominated her mouth with a ferocity that left her breathless and yet in no want of air. Her fingernails left red trails down his chest as she tried to cling to him while he kissed her, moving his lips over hers as if he were suddenly and inexplicably addicted to her and taking her every breath was the only way to feed his high.

When she finally pulled away from him, she was feeling lightheaded, and collapsed on her elbows in front of him.

There was movement behind her, but she was too busy trying to regain her breathing to notice that Charlie had taken advantage of her natural movements that had her body in such an accommodating position. Forehead pressed against the bed, her hips were still in the air and from the dip in the bed behind her and warmth of Charlie's large hand on her back, Hermione almost purred in the knowledge of what the next moment held.

"Last chance to say 'no', 'Mione," Charlie said softly, though from the gravely tone of his voice, she knew he was praying she didn't reconsider.

"Fuck me, Charlie," she whispered, and moaned as she felt the redhead piston his hips forward, the tip of what she was realizing was a startlingly impressive length entering her body and causing her to involuntarily pitch forward, hands going to Sirius's strong, leather-covered thighs to stop herself from letting inertia get the best of her.

This, of course, put her right in the sightline of Sirius's straining erection, which she was certain was the beauty of the position to begin with.

"God, kitten, just the idea of having your sweet mouth around my cock is enough to drive me insane," the ex-convict choked out as Hermione unceremoniously lowered her lips to his engorged tip. "The reality is just…sweet Merlin…" he groaned as she relaxed her throat and slid further down.

For a few moments, the only sound was the sweet slap of flesh-on-flesh and the heavy breathing of the older man. Hermione was trying to swallow her moans of pleasure as the feel of Charlie inside her started to make her body heat with anticipation of another world-rocking orgasm.

She cupped Sirius's balls, and the man jumped slightly, fingers flying to her hair and gripping her head, guiding her a little faster as she felt him starting to reach his peak. She could hear Charlie's laboured breathing behind her, and from the coil that was quickly tightening in her own stomach, it was only a matter of time before they all exploded.

A light flick of her tongue across the tip of Sirius's cock had the pureblood groaning, arching his back as his body shook. Hermione swallowed as best she could, trying to breathe as she felt Charlie's arm encircle her and his body bend over hers.

"Come for me, beautiful," he whispered in her ear and just the idea that she was in this situation – this beautiful, utterly ridiculous situation – threw her headfirst into her second orgasm of the night, her nails digging into Sirius's biceps as he held her close and kissed her.

Charlie howled seconds later, his hips bucking and body jerking as he came, his arms tightening around her body and his breath hot on her back before they collapsed together on the bed.

It was a few minutes before any of them spoke, and expectedly, it was Sirius.

"Well, kitten," he said, rolling over to face her, grin on his face. "I suppose I should invite you to stay here during poker night every month."

"But Charlie won't be here every month," she said, snuggling into the muscular cocoon of the freckled man's body.

"If this is what happens after poker night, I'll visit every bloody month," he mumbled into her skin, his lips ghosting over the nape of her neck and causing her to sigh in contentment.

"Hmm…it might take me the full month to recover from the manhandling," she said, a smirk threatening to show on her lips.

She didn't fool either of them.

"I could keep you company in the meantime," Sirius whispered as Charlie's kisses got more insistent.

"And you can visit me any time you want to, gorgeous," Charlie added.

Hermione smiled to herself. She had a demanding job and two men vying for her affection?

Sometimes life just wasn't fair.

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it!