Response to "angel" drabble prompt.
All characters and their origins property of J.K. Rowling. Hermione is 18 or older unless otherwise stated.
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A bark of laughter burst from the dark haired wizard as he stood with his hands shoved in his pockets, watching the flailing motions of the young witch laying on her back in the snow before him.
He was laughing so hard now that he had to wipe a tear from his eye, "Hermione, love, what in Merlin's name are you doing down there?"
The grin on the pretty brunette's face was childlike as she swept her arms and legs up and down, open and closed.
"Haven't you ever heard of making snow angels, Sirius?" she giggled, the giddiness of the season's first snowfall stripping her of any grownup-like dignity.
He regarded her there for a moment, taking in her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, his gaze drifting over her decidedly not-childlike figure. In one swift movement he was there, covering her body with his, his mouth just a fraction from hers.
"No, I haven't, angel," he whispered, "Perhaps you could teach me how to flail around in the snow too."
Hermione's breath caught, then she burst out in laughter, giving him a shove as she rolled them over, straddling him now. She quirked a teasing eyebrow at him as he moved his hips suggestively against her.
"Sirius Black, I don't think you're capable of making a snow angel. You are far, far too wicked for that."