the_debt_of_time

Hermione struggled the entire way, nearly tripping over her high heels in the
process, cursing his name as they moved. "Sirius Black, I will get you for this!"
"Oh, kitten has claws."
He grinned and pulled her up against him, close enough that he could see the
various shades of brown coalescing in her eyes. From far away, they looked like chocolate,
but up close like this, with the light reflecting in them, they could look like firewhisky if he
wished hard enough. Hermione narrowed those intoxicating eyes at him as he gripped her
hand in one of his, placing the other on her small waist and spinning her in his arms. Within
seconds, Sirius had her laughing and slapping his chest playfully. "Well, how about that, I
might like weddings."
"Ah, my devious plan worked." Hermione smiled triumphantly. "I'm glad you're
smiling again, Sirius."
"Me too, kitten, me too."
Hermione eyed him. "Have I mentioned that I hate nicknames?"
"It's a pet name, not a nickname," he argued as he took her hand and spun her out
carefully before tugging her back against him, smiling when she tilted her head back and
laughed. The sound drowned out the music playing, and it lit him up from inside. "Besides,
haven't you noticed I don't always do what people want me to do?"
"Sirius Black? No, I thought he was the very perfect model of obedience and
consideration," she said sarcastically.
"I am very considerate. For instance, despite the fact that you are enjoying dancing
with me so much―"
She laughed again. "So much."
"—I am going to part with you, even though it's obvious that you want to keep
dancing with me all night," he added. "Who could blame you? I am very handsome."
Despite being only a little sarcastic, she did not laugh but instead locked her gaze on him,
causing him to lick his lips.
Clearing his throat and his head, Sirius manoeuvred around another couple. "I do
this because I am so very considerate of the fact that I am not the only sad sod sitting alone
in a corner." He gestured to Remus, who was leaning against the entrance to the marquee
by himself, a glass of firewhisky in hand.
"He's not sitting or in a corner," Hermione argued.