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The gardens of Potter Manor were peaceful. Hermione lay on a blanket on the grass beside the ornamental lake, Remus laying beside her, both of them wholly absorbed in the books they were reading. A dragonfly buzzed past Hermione’s face then continued on its way, dipping low to the ground in the sultry afternoon air.
Hermione tracked its movement with her eyes, hearing the almost inaudible hum of its wings grow steadily louder, then louder still, before seeming to turn into a deafening roar.
Hermione and Remus sat up, both glancing around for the source of the noise. They scanned the empty grounds, exchanged an exasperated frown, then looked up into the sky.
A large motorbike hurtled towards them, apparently completely out of control. Hermione backed hastily away from the approaching missile but Remus barely flinched as the enormous machine landed neatly beside him. “Good afternoon.” Sitting astride the bike, Sirius grinned. He cut the engine and removed his helmet, shaking the kinks out of his long, lush hair while James dismounted from the back seat.
“Afternoon, Pads. Prongs,” Remus replied despite his obvious disapproval.
“Everything alright, Sweetheart?” Sirius asked. He kicked the bike stand down, dismounted, and dropped down to sit beside Hermione before pressing a surprisingly passionate kiss to her lips.
Hermione looked from Sirius’ grey, mischief-filled eyes to the highly illegal motorbike and sighed. Half of her was frustrated by his blatant lack of respect for the law while the other half of her couldn't help but admire his brilliant spellwork. “I thought you weren’t going to enchant this bike?” she asked, trying to appear stern, even as her smile revealed her amusement.
“Did you?” Sirius' grinned as he kissed her again. She leaned her head onto his shoulder and inhaled the comforting scent of his leather jacket and sandalwood shampoo.
“It’s a motorbike, Sirius. It’s not supposed to fly,” she admonished, pausing to accept another of his long, languid kisses.
“To be fair, love, it was relatively easy to enchant. I thought it would be more problematic. So did James, but it really wasn't. Think of this as an experiment. A test of the laws of magic. We owe it to ourselves to find out what can and can’t be done. What will our children say if they find out we didn't do something, even though we knew we could?”
Hermione laughed. “Aren't we a little young to be worrying about our children just yet? Anyway, just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should do it.”
Sirius threw his head back and laughed. “Are you quoting something at me again, Kitten?”
Hermione sighed. “Maybe. Entirely pointlessly, it would seem.”
“Utterly pointlessly with these two, I’m afraid.” Remus lay back down and turned over onto his stomach while lazily reaching for his book once more.
“Indeed.” Sirius turned back to Hermione with a wink. “You know you love us for it. You told me you have a 'thing' for bad boys. Come for a ride with me?”
Hermione’s eyes widened. She had, so far, steadfastly refused to get on the motorbike, having heard too many of her parents dire warnings about how easy it was to horrifically lose your life while riding “one of those mechanical deathtraps.” Sirius looked so appealing, though, blinking endearingly up at her, and the thought of wrapping her arms around him while zooming through the sky was doing strange things to her already crumbling resolve.
“Alright,” she agreed before she lost her nerve.
“Really?” Sirius flashed her a happy grin. “James! Give me your helmet, quick!”
James passed the helmet to Sirius with a wicked grin of his own. “Have fun.”
“Oh, we will.” Sirius hurridly tugged Hermione to her feet. “Here, put this on. It’s chilly up there above the clouds.” He took the leather jacket that James offered, and Hermione shrugged it on, suddenly finding herself surrounded by the richly comforting smell of used, softened leather and the distinctly masculine scent that seemed to encompass all three of the boys wherever they went.
Sirius swung his leg over the bike and waited until Hermione was settled comfortably behind him. Suddenly feeling terrified, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and laid her head against his back. Sirius gunned the engine into life, and Hermione tensed as he took off, accelerating relatively steadily compared to the way he usually sped around with James or Remus sitting behind him. “Ready?” he shouted over his shoulder, and she nodded, closing her eyes and holding on for dear life.
The bike rose into the air, and to Hermione’s surprise, it didn’t feel unstable. In fact, flying like this felt a lot less terrifying than flying on a broom. They rose higher, flying in lazily spiraling circles, and as Hermione gradually stopped fearing for her life, she opened her eyes.
Potter Manor was now a tiny matchbox house sitting beside a minuscule pond, and James and Remus looked no bigger than ants. “Still think this was a bad idea?” Sirius called and she smiled against his shoulder. She couldn’t bring herself to disagree with him just now.
“It’s still a very illegal idea,” she countered, while gazing down at the forest far below them.
“Don’t tell on me, then.” Hermione could hear the smirk in Sirius' voice as he swooped around to fly over the open moorland behind the estate.
“As if I ever would,” Hermione breathed, suddenly not wanting the flight to end. “If this motorbike had a silencer button, it would be even better,” she mused, wondering what it would feel like to fly noiselessly.
“That’s what brooms are for,” Sirius laughed. “It’s sacrilege to silence a motorbike!”
Laughing, Hermione nodded. “I see.” She laid her head against Sirius’ back, and as she listened to the now reassuring rumble of the engine, she conceded that he had a point. Maybe it was sometimes okay to do something just because you could.