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Summary
“Everyone would wonder, at first. It would be a secret, just something for you and me.” He briefly looked up at his mother and raised an eyebrow. “The gossips would speculate about the wedding—after all, I might yet come to my senses. The ‘purity’ of this Ancient and Noble House might yet weigh upon my conscience.”
Sirius ground himself against her cervix, clamping his hands around her hips to keep her from trying to escape the pain. He knew his baby could take it.
“And then…” he said, rocking into her with tiny little thrusts. “Your belly would start to swell.”
OR: Sirius fucks Hermione in front of his mother's portrait.