Guess We're Stuck With Each Other - Sirius x Hermione

Chapter 12 - My Woman

"Well, firstly I thought it was a preposterous idea, you're Harry's godfather and it would be terribly wrong."

"Then what happened? Because it doesn't look like you think that anymore," he toyed. If her cheeks were not already rosy from the heat of the fireplace, they certainly were now. "Do you just want to spend all day staring at my chest after a shower and smelling my clothes?"

She turned, standing to face him, giving him the most shocked face she owned, and releasing the corner of his t-shirt that she had been mindlessly fondling. She brought the neck of the top to her nose and breathed in heavily. "It doesn't even smell that much like you anymore."

"So you do pay attention to what I smells like then?" His charm worked like a treat on the innocent girl. "What does it smell like instead?"

She looked up, "um, Remus?"

"Remus? Why him?"

"Why me what?" As if he couldn't have found a worse time to intrude on their conversation, he entered as soon as they had begun talking about him. "Why me what?" he repeated, handing Hermione a wrap (he knew she wouldn't eat anything heavy).

"Moony! What have you been getting up to with my woman?" he joked, throwing a disapproving look towards his friend.

"Your woman? You don't have a woman," he replied hastily, returning the disapproving glare.

"Actually, I do." He paused to look at Hermione. "Don't I?"

"M-me?" she stuttered, nearly choking on her dinner.

"Oh," Remus saw the opportunity and took it, "I don't think I'm the professor she's interested in, Pads. She's more fond of a-"

The man in the fireplace cut him short. "Lay off, Rems. I don't see her in Binns' office; she didn't take the train with Flitwick; she doesn't smell like Snape. She's in your company and smells like you."

"Well actually," Remus countered, "she's still wearing your top."

"She!" Hermione butted in, "she is in this room, and would prefer not to be referred to in the third person!"

"Sorry, love," Sirius discarded any grudge he was holding against the other man in the room, and looked into her eyes. "You think some more about it then." He gave one of his seductive winks.

Before she had the chance to respond, he was gone. "I don't need to," she muttered to herself, "I don't need to."

+++++++++

The chair was more uncomfortable than she had suspected. Even after transfiguring it into a sofa, she still couldn't relax. She partially wished she had accepted the offer of Remus's bed, but another part of her was thankful she didn't make him sleep so poorly. She had imposed enough in his life.

Sirius clouded her dreams. Her mind wanted it to be real to such an extent that she thought she could even feel his warmth embracing her.

When she woke, however, she was alone.

She silently grabbed her robes, aiming not to wake her roommate, and headed for the shower.

Just a dream, Hermione, I don't know what you were thinking.

There is no way he actually called you 'his woman'.

I don't want to be 'his woman'. I'm not an object. I have feelings too, you know.

Yes you do, Hermione, feelings for him.

What am I saying?

Just get dressed.

What about his top?

It still smells like him.

Wait, WHAT!

How is that possible?

It was just a dream; he can't have actually been on that sofa with me.

Dear Merlin, is that black dog hair? How did that get on the top?

We need to have a serious conversation!