a/n: it's been quite a while since i've posted, hasn't it?

i'm sorry guys, i've just been really busy lately. i'll be able to get more active mid-May, probably, when school becomes less school and more 'let's socialize.' which my teachers won't like but ah well.

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Written for the Ilvermorny Forum March 2018 Weekly Set #3.

Prompts:

[character] hermione granger

[character] draco malfoy

[season] winter

[word] crazy

[color] blue

[word] binder

(dialogue) "Yet you're such an expert?"

Word Count: 465

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Sitting in the snow, looking back at old times, it was hard to keep from crying again.

Draco Malfoy sat on the steps of his home.

Little Rhea was off at her friend's house at a playdate, and Draco was alone with his memories and thoughts.

Thoughts of Hermione.

Merlin, he missed her. He missed those snowy days laughing and having snowball fights, hhe missed t kisses and passion, he missed the friendship and love and good times.

And most of all, he missed the things that would never be:

Watching Rhea grow up into a young lady together, growing old together, and everything else that was impossible now.

It was so incredibly stupid and ironic that a part of the reason that Hermione had died was herself: the fact that she had insisted on having a regular Muggle birthing rather than a magical wizarding world birthing.

This never would've happened otherwise.

Afterwards that, Draco hadn't been able to stop crying.

He jumped back to the present from his thoughts, and he realized that cold, icy tears are hardening on his cheeks. He swipes them away angrily, mad at himself, but he couldn't stop himself from jumping back to better times.

Draco was fixing the slightly dented side of the back deck when a snowball caught him in the back of head.

"Hey!" he jokingly complains. "I'm working!"

"Come and play a little, sweetie! You work too much," Hermione teases, lobbing another snowball at him, which Draco dodges.

He quickly grabs a handful of snow and shapes it and then, hiding it, he turns around, sighing.

"Fine," he says, and then immediately throws the snowball at unsuspecting Hermione.

The sight of her adorable face covered in flecks of snow and with a surprised expression on it was too much to bear, and Draco burst out in a bout of uncontrollable laughter.

"You are actually crazy."

"Am I?" Hermione laughed. "And you're such an expert?"

Draco glared. "Well…"

"Answer: No, you're not."

Hermione stood and patted the magical flying binder.

Draco snorted, unable to keep his laughter hidden any longer. "Harry's going to love this, isn't he?"

Hermione shrugged. "Ginny's always complaining about the mess in their house. She'll love it, at least."

They smiled.

"Blue, huh?" Draco raised his eyebrows.

Hermione laughed. "I just know she'll love it."

"She's not even born yet, how do you know?" Draco laughs.

Hermione grinned. "Mother's instinct, I suppose."

They stood in the future room of little Rhea, still insie Hermione's pregnant belly.

Hermione put a hand over her stomach protectively.

"I just know she'll love it," she says again, smiling.

More memories come to mind, but Draco pushes them back, fresh tears streaming out of his cold blue eyes.

Cold, ever since the one he had loved died.