A/N: This was written a few months ago for a Christmas challenge, I just realised I hadn't put it up on here ... so here's some Christmas in July!

She stood gazing out over the frozen lake and snow covered hills. Her eyes, unfocused in their perusal, held a myriad of emotions in their chocolate depths. A cold burst of wind whipped around her and threatened to uncoil her hair. Pulling her black wool coat tighter and wrapping her Burberry scarf around her head, she attempted to burrow into herself.

Behind her, she could hear the carriages being prepared for their trek across the white frosted grounds, the bells jingling quietly as though afraid to disrupt the stillness of the land. Few people milled around the black, horseless carriages; most weren't even there for him.

She swallowed a sob and looked up into the slowly falling snowflakes, wishing they could coat her grief as thickly as they had covered the grassy planes surrounding her. She wondered what was up there, in that great white abyss. Was he watching her stand there, arms outstretched?

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening?
In the lane, snow is glistening.

Only a few days ago, they had wandered the same snowy trails that she looked upon. She recalled with a tear, that she had refused to talk to him after he threw a snowball down her coat.

She turned back to the coaches, sliding her hood up to hide her tear-stained face. She slipped quietly into the last one and felt it jerk into motion only a few moments later. Laying her fevered forehead on the cool glass window, she remembered the fun they had playing around in the snow.

A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

Her eyes pricked again at the thought that there would be no more snow fights, no more arguments by the fireplace, no more moments of simply sitting in each other's presence. She heard the wind whistle and groan around the moving carriage, watching the forlorn black raven outside float on the winds' wisps, as though unsure of his destination. She remembered all of the notes that lovely bird had brought her and with a slight moan thought of all the notes he wouldn't get the chance to bring anymore.

Gone away is the bluebird;

Here to stay is a new bird.
He sings a love song, as we go along,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

The carriage stopped on the outskirts of a small enclosed area. She slowly got out, each movement hurting her constricted heart. She glanced away from the forlorn gathering at the snowdrifts to the side of the wrought-iron fence.

She imagined another lonely wrought-iron fence: the one she had to clutch as he knelt in the cold snow, holding a small silver ring in front of him. The same one she had almost been pierced by when her knees buckled under his passionate kiss.

She remembered as she took in the thickening snow, the small garden they had chosen for the ceremony and she also remembered the quick bed-side service that had been reality.

In the meadow we can build a snowman.
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown.
He'll say, "Are you married?"
We'll say, "No man!
But you can do the job when you're in town."

He hadn't known he was sick, she knew by the desolation in his eyes. But he had faced it with the same will with which he had faced everything else. She remembered the night he told her the news, only a week ago. She had wiped his tears away and refused to let him dwell on it, cradling him in her arms in front of the large fireplace he had appeared out of.

And a few days later, when the curse had finally taken full hold of him, he met his death as he had met every other challenge in life: head on with a slight smirk on his lips.

Later on, we'll conspire,
As we dream by the fire.
To face unafraid, the plans that we've made,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

She turned back to the small gathering of people and walked up to the gaping black hole that she wished she could climb into herself. Holding back tears, she stared glassily at the blank faces that surrounded her. Not one had been his supporter in life, not one had given him a chance. Who were they to be there, at his final defeat?

She stood proud, willing herself not to break down in front of the prying eyes. She knew they wondered who she was, and why she took the widow's place at the edge of the white marble. As the familiar minister finished his short prayer and patted her on the shoulder, she attempted not to feel the pain threatening to take over. She bent down mechanically, picked up a handful of dirt and tossed it onto the glistening mahogany casket, placed in the earth.

The hollow thump of the black dirt hitting the remains of her lover almost broke her. She stared hard at the dirt, knowing how much he would have hated it, how much he had always avoided anything that would muss his hands. She smirked slightly, and bent down once more, picking up a handful of snow this time. Staring all of the curious bystanders down, she tossed it into the grave. Handful by handful she attempted to cover the casket that held her lover's body.

When the minister finally pulled her away, she made no attempt to go back. She wandered away from the grave, staring into the quietly falling snow.

When it snows, ain't it thrilling?
Though your nose gets a chilling.

She wandered back towards the lake, following no path but her own. She had no conception of how long she walked in the pure whiteness until she finally made it back to the small clearing. The group now gone and the hole filled, all that remained was a white marble slab. She stumbled to it, her eyes blurry and legs frozen.

Falling onto the cold ground, she whimpered, "You couldn't wait for Christmas, but now it's come without you. You were my Christmas wish, Draco. You were the only thing I could ever want." She lay there, sobbing broken heartedly, "I love you! I love you! How could you leave me?!" Slowly being covered by a soft blanket of snow, her voice broke and she hoarsely recited, "Come back, come back, come back."

She stood up, what seemed like hours later, unable to feel anything besides her broken heart. As she walked back to the carriage, she felt the wind whip around her uncovered hair once more and then suddenly, a large snowball hit her head and she heard a loud, curious, "And where are you going?"

We'll frolic and play, the Eskimo way,
Walking in a winter wonderland.

She whipped around; she knew that voice! Behind her stood Draco, standing in all his 6' glory, in all black with the slightest hint of green around his neck, and a white belt. She gaped at him, wondering if she had been out in the cold too long.

The image in front of her smirked and said, "you always look like a goldfish when you do that."

Her jaw clamped shut, her mind racing as she slowly walked towards him. "But how?" she whispered brokenly.

He shrugged, "Apparently I have some great destiny waiting for me with this really annoying but gorgeous witch. Any clue who she is?"

Hermione felt her lips twitch up, "I might."

He nodded musingly and took one of her hands in his, looking down into her eyes, "Mmm. I love you too, Miss Book. Couldn't let Potter be the only resurrected one walking around, now could I?"

She shook her head amused, but brought her hand up to trace his face, still unsure if he was really in front of her or not.

He saw the insecurity in her eyes, and grasping her waist to him, he bent his head to hers. At first touching his lips to hers softly, the pressure increased steadily – both not wanting to waste a moment with the one they'd almost lost.

She broke away suddenly, breathing heavily, and he grinned. He pulled her arm through his and started the trek back to the carriage, wondering how on earth he was going to explain this to everyone. He smiled into the falling snow.

She glanced at him oddly, "You're not going to be one of those annoyingly happy born-agains, are you?"

He frowned and looked down, glaring at her twitching face. "Woman, I've just returned from the dead, I think I'm permitted a smile, don't you?"

She turned back to the snow, and looked into the blinding whiteness surrounding them and said with a smile, "Yes, yes I do."


Walking in a winter wonderland.
Walking in a winter wonderland.