DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER…although I wouldn't mind owning his godfather.
"Angels really do come in unusual packages. What happened to you?" She whispered as he held her bridal style and carried her back inside the house, "How did you become what you are, Sirius?"
"After we die some people are given a mission. You are my mission, Hermione. I am here for you."
"A guardian angel?" She asked with curiosity and anticipation written on her face.
"Of sorts I suppose, yes." He chuckled lightly into her hair as he kissed her forehead and laid her down on the couch.
She smiled up at him with warmth as she took in his black leather trousers and crisp white shirt.
"I'm glad it's you and not a stranger. You look right as an angel."
He smiled down at her and remembered her as the child that had helped Harry rescue him from the impending doom of the Dementor's Kiss all those years ago. He had to admit to himself that he looked much better now than he did that night. Death had granted his youth back, albeit with wings and a mission that, if he knew Hermione Granger well enough, would be nothing less than excruciatingly difficult.
"Protect her," The archangel had told him, "Protect her at all costs. She has seen too much and survived too much. She is broken woman and it is your job to rescue her from her mind's own hell, Sirius Black."
So here he was, watching his dead godson's best friend fall asleep after finding her freezing and crying in the garden of Grimauld Place for her friends and mentors, all of whom had been lost to her by the end of the war and it was up to him to save her from the nightmares and guilt of survival as well as the impending danger of scattered Death Eaters and Ministry inquisitions which would surely follow the final death of Voldemort.
A/N: No idea where this is going to go. Let me know if you like it and I might come up with something more. Cheers.