Should you be here? he whispered hoarsely, his throat suddenly dry. He flicked his tongue over lips, hoping to moisten them and relieve the dryness of his mouth, to no avail. He tried another tack, hoping to cover up the cracking of his voice. Wouldn't your husband look for you?

For answer he got the sweet weight of her on his lap, her face so close to his he could smell toothpaste on her breath. I shouldn't, she replied, placing just the tips of her fingers on his shoulders and running them slowly down his arms until they reached his hands; then, firmly, she took his hands and placed them on her hips. He could feel her every motion under the thin material of her nightgown. She leaned towards his ear and whispered, And weren't you looking for me?

In that position he could feel her nipples tightening against his collarbone, and her legs were quickly slipping forward so that she was straddling his hips. He groaned her name, half in protest, half a plea. Mina, he said, don't do this if you don't mean it...

Why shouldn't I mean it? she said, beginning to nibble on his earlobe and threading her hands in his long hair. You're still a fine man, Sirius Black, and I want you.

Shivers of pleasure ran up Sirius as he heard those words. Even so, he swallowed hard. He let go of the tender body before him. Go now, he said. This is a dream, I'm sure of it. The image of Minstrel vanished as had a million others, for every night one of them would appear. And every night Sirius would realize that he was only dreaming. She would never say she wants me, he murmured, dropping his head into his hands. Nobody would want me an escaped convict, a mass murderer, a traitor.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, and expelled it in a long sigh. But... I want her. God, how I want her.