Thank you so much for betaing this, MammaWeasley27!

It was a cold and rainy morning in early December when Hermione sat alone in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, watching as the rain poured down onto the streets of London. It had just been a few short hours ago, when Harry and Ron had left her at Grimmauld Place to continue hunting down Horcruxes while she was supposed to do research about the missing pieces.

And look out for Sirius.

Sirius had been decidedly unhappy to let the trio do anything on their own, and had tried to interfere more than once. To be fair, his interference had also done some good, like when they impersonated Runcorn, Hopkirk, and Cattermole to infiltrate the Ministry and accidently dragged along Yaxley when they came back.

Harry's godfather had been anxiously waiting for their return when he realized what happened, stunning Yaxley on sight before he could even do so much as blink. Hermione had been immensely grateful to Sirius - it had been her that Yaxley had grabbed onto after all; they would not have been able to continue to use Grimmauld Place as a safe house if Sirius hadn't reacted as fast as he luckily did.

After he had stunned Yaxley, he obliviated him and dropped him off somewhere in Muggle London. He would not be found anytime in the near future given that he was quite sure he was now on a quest to Iceland to study Icelandic horses.

Of course, after the disaster with Yaxley, Sirius wanted to accompany them. Wherever they went. No amount of explaining from Hermione or Harry would get through to him. It was too dangerous, he was even more recognizable than they were – apart from Harry - but he had a different outlook on the whole mission either way.

His need to protect his godson at any price, and his becoming more depressed with each passing day, had been the source of many arguments, not just between the trio but also between Harry and Sirius, and Sirius and Hermione.

Hermione tried to be understanding for how Sirius felt about being left behind. She really did. But Sirius was more reckless than Harry and Ron combined; the two boys even agreed that they couldn't risk bringing Sirius along. Sirius, of course, was of quite another opinion. All his thoughts were about how he couldn't let anything happen to Harry, but in his private musings he often forgot that he was Harry's weak spot; If someone hurt him, Harry would be horribly distracted. Sirius was quite sure that he couldn't continue living if he lost Harry as well. He had already lost James and Remus – the latter of which had actually died in his stead in the Department of Mysteries – and he only had Harry left.

Realizing that she and the boys would get nowhere with Sirius constantly around, it was decided that Harry and Ron would be leaving for Godric's Hollow, hoping to destroy the wretched necklace while Hermione would stay behind and do research, which they hoped would give them a hint about the missing horcruxes, and, of course, look out for Sirius.

Harry and Ron were due back on Christmas Eve. That, at least, had been the original plan two weeks ago - there was still one week to go.

The past two weeks since the boy's departure were filled with Sirius being immensely angry at Hermione for her hand in him being left behind – ignoring the fact that, technically, she also had been left behind – and bickering with her about literally everything. At least, concerning his displeasure at her being at Grimmauld Place, which she was sure was not entirely fair. It was not as though she wanted to be there herself, no matter how much she always had liked Sirius.

So when the snide comments about her hair, her stature, her behavior, her study habits, her voice, her way of talking, and her "relentless cheerfulness" started to cease as the days wore on and Hermione had stopped retorting about his beard, his clothing, his absolute lack of table manners or tact, she grew frustrated. She wasn't frustrated because he had stopped insulting her – quite the opposite, thank you very much – but because she was afraid she wasn't able to help him feel better in the slightest.

She often found him in random rooms in the house, the fireplaces already cold again, just staring into the ashes, unmoving. She had also noticed that he had started eating less. Well, actually Kreacher noticed, and had told Hermione that, "The filthy mudblood will drive him to starvation and Kreacher will be free to be with Missus Bellatrix."

As rotten as their whole situation was, sometimes she could still see Sirius as she remembered him from her fifth year. He was charming, could be quite witty, and made her uncomfortably aware of their almost 20-year-age-gap. Not that Hermione actually entertained any notions about Sirius being anything other than Harry's godfather and a good friend. Of course she wouldn't.

The house was quiet and dark, as it always was nowadays, and Hermione was just fed up with it. It was the twenty-third of December, and she was going to have some Christmas decorations up in this wretched place, even if just for herself. She set to work and put up paper stars around the walls, as well as wonderful sparkling holiday lights. Charmed ones, of course. She also might have put up a mistletoe or two, but no one besides her needed to know about those.

When she was satisfied, she looked around at what she had decorated. The kitchen, the main living room, and the hallways seemed definitely more festive and cheery than they usually did, which she decidedly thought of as an improvement.

She was acutely aware of the fact that she was doing everything in her power to prevent herself from wondering where the hell Harry and Ron were. Even if it was just putting up some decorations.

Just when Hermione actually was satisfied with her work, she heard weird noises from the kitchen. She opened the door and saw Sirius, who was slumped down in a chair and had apparently burned out the holiday lights she had put up. He didn't even look in her direction when she entered, staring at the tabletop instead.

Hermione had just had enough.

"Could you please just stop with all the bloody moping around?! For heaven's sake!"

Hermione Granger's voice rang through Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place , her tone quite shrill; Kreacher could be envied for being almost deaf. The portraits in the halls flinched while the poor sod that her screams had been directed at just looked up at her with tired eyes.

Sirius Black sat at the kitchen table, bruises under his eyes that were proof of his distinct lack of sleep, and sighed.

"Hermione, I am not –"

"Don't try to tell me that you're not moping! Of course you are! Just look at you – have you even showered in the past two weeks?!" She sniffed pointedly. "You stink."

"Excuse me?!" Sirius stood up. He actually was quite sure that he had in fact not showered – or shaved, for that matter – but that was nothing of her concern.

"You heard me just fine. I am not happy that they're gone either, I worry because they are not back yet, but I am decidedly more unhappy about the fact that they left me here to babysit a grown man because he can't for the life of him, just for once, listen to others!"

With these words Hermione left the kitchen. He could hear an annoyed huff and several doors slamming on her way up to the library.

Once she had stormed off and cooled down a bit, Hermione felt quite horrible about what she had said to Sirius. She was supposed to be there for him, not drive him further away from the only human being he could be in contact with at the moment. And it really was not fair to blame him because he wanted to protect Harry – she wanted to do the same!

She heard a gentle knock on the door.

"Hermione?" Sirius voice was quiet and questioning from the other side of the wooden library door.

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment.

"Sirius, this is your home. You don't need to knock to enter the library." She buried her face in her hands. "I apologize for yelling at you, Sirius, it was totally uncalled for, and …"

"Shut up, Granger."

Hermione listened to him, for once, and just stared at him. He looked more put together than he had in the past several weeks. It was obvious that he had showered, shaved, and put on different clothes. Of course, there were still bruises beneath his eyes, and his skin was deathly pale, but beggars can't be choosers.

Hermione slowly stood up and walked over to where Sirius was still standing in the doorway.

"I know that it is hard for you as well. You had to leave your friends behind and are stuck in a horrible house with an ill-tempered old man." He almost smiled while he spoke. "So I want to thank you for making an effort. I promise, I will try to behave like the adult I am."

He looked quite serious for once.

"Thank you, Sirius."

"Oh, and there's another thing."

Her eyes were open wide. "Yes?"

He put his hands on either side of her head, staring quite intently at her.

"I found a mistletoe."

And with that he leaned closer, and pressed his lips to hers. It was a short kiss, but Hermione felt as though her lips were on fire. When Sirius went to take a step back her hands reached up and dug into his hair, pulling him closer again.

Time seemed to stand still – and then they could hear a crash and swearing from downstairs. Guiltily, Hermione dropped her hands, feeling her cheeks coloring, while Sirius smiled at her.

Harry and Ron were back.

"We will talk about this." Sirius promised before he left, and Hermione, who had been furious not long before, and had almost become used to being the one to boss him around just nodded, dumbfounded.

Sirius flashed her an actual grin and made his way downstairs.

Now Christmas could begin in earnest, as their boys were finally home.