Hermione Granger was perfectly content to spend her afternoon reading, thank you very much. Most of the younger members, and even some of the older ones, had decided that it was a perfect day for their annual snowball fight. Given the incident that had left poor Mr. Weasley incapacitated for majority of the Christmas activities the usual festivities had been postponed. Now that Mr. Weasley was stabilized and comfortable the fun had begun – enchanted mistletoe had been hung, Christmas crackers were popped, and the aforementioned snowball war had commenced. Not feeling particularly festive, Hermione had opted out of this year's spar, leaving her completely open to entertain Sirius Black… even if it was against her wishes. So, yes, Hermione Granger was perfectly content to spend her afternoon reading. However, Sirius Black was perfectly content to ruin it.

…

Sirius snuck into the library at Grimmauld Place clutching the piece of yarn he previously found. Creeping up behind the chair Hermione usually occupied, he was very satisfied to find her there engrossed in a novel. Holding his arm out just above her head, he dangled the yarn directly into her line of vision. Too focused on the book, Hermione absentmindedly took a swat at the string, only for it to start swinging in front of her. After her third or fourth hit, Sirius couldn't help but let out a low chuckle.

Hermione sighed, "Honestly, sighed…" she yanked the piece of yarn, trying to not let on that she was equally entertained. She would not let him win.

"Ah, did the kitten finally catch her piece of yarn?" Sirius teased lightly, an old smirk gracing his features for the first time in a while.

"Yes, she did," Hermione replied with a light laugh. She turned her head to shoot him a glance over her shoulder, "now may I return to my book?"

Sirius gave no answer but to turn and walk out pausing at the door. "Sure thing, kitten," Sirius called back with a mock salute, missing the glare sent in response.

…

Later that day Sirius decided his fun was not finished. Few things brought him joy anymore, and one of them was still getting as many people flustered as possible. "Hermione," he started softly to the girl next him at the dinner table. She looked over and quirked an eyebrow to cue him to go on. "Could you pass me the salt?" Sirius asked as innocently as he could.

An expression of relief washed over Hermione's face – she honestly never knew what he was going to say next. She nodded and complied to the man's request.

"Thanks, kitten."

The instant response was exactly what Sirius wanted: Hermione blushed; Molly dropped her fork in surprise; Remus choked on his food; and his godson laughed for the first time in days. Hermione was naturally the first to recover.

"You're never going to drop that are you?"

"Never."

…

Well it's been ages since I posted anything, but this came into my head the other day so I figured I may as well post it on here for you all. It's short, and most likely messy but I wanted to share my take on the idea of how most of us tend to make it fanon that Sirius calls Hermione "kitten" all the time. Thanks for the read folks.