Sirius/Hermione
He’s just in from the pub as he taps the snow off his boots before popping his head into the library. He knows she’ll still be up reading. It’s the same every Christmas Eve she stays here.
His stolen sleepover.
His dream come true.
He could say her name. He could. It would only take a moment. Instead he knocks his head against the doorframe. He’s not pissed, but he’s not entirely sober either.
She leans over the side of the couch without noticing him.
The snow is coming down harder now. She’s mesmerized by the dusting of white through the window. He’s mesmerized by her.
He pushes off the doorframe and makes his way to his bedroom.
Sleep never comes easy, but once it does, he drifts away to images of kissing the melting flakes from her freckled skin.