This was originally written as a gift on tumblr. The pairing is definitely out of my wheelhouse, so I humbly offer this little one-shot to the fans of this rare pair!

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Snowed In

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She opened her eyes to see an unfamiliar roof above her. Unsure of where she was or why, Hermione lay still and assessed the situation as best as she could. Hard surface below her, she trailed her fingers slightly over the cold floor. Stone. She took a deep breath. Good, she was breathing fine and nothing seemed to hurt. Not too badly, anyway. She couldn't hear anything except for the faint ticking of a clock, wind outside and her own heartbeat. Another deep breath gave her smells of pine, wet stone and a faint campfire. Fairly sure she was alone, Hermione slowly sat up to a completely unexpected view.

The last she remembered, they had all fled Hogwarts to the Ministry of Magic. Harry had a vision of Sirius being tortured and they had gone to save him. It had been a trap. They were all fighting in the Department of Mysteries. She had been fighting in the room with all the timeturners. She was knocked down and someone had set off a spell like a tornado. All the timeturners began breaking, she was trapped inside, the sands swirling around her and she had been knocked out. Until she woke up here. Inside this cabin.

Looking about the one-room cottage, Hermione stood and cast a few quick spells to find no one else was there. At least her wand was working. Turning to a window, all she could see was a dense forest filled with evergreens and bare trees, a light cover of snow on the ground. Winter then. A chill running through her, she turned to the hearth and lit a fire. No use freezing when she had no idea how long she would be here. She didn't even know when or where she was. Logically, she should still be in the heart of what would be future London (or past London, she conceded). Timeturners didn't move you physically except through time. However, in the chaos of the destruction, it wouldn't be hard to imagine something else had gone wrong. Without knowing when or where she was, Apparating wasn't an option. The only places likely to exist - like Stonehenge - were too risky for their own reasons.

As she was contemplating her situation, wandering about the cabin, she heard noises coming from outside. Someone was coming in! Stashing her wand up her sleeve and taking as defensive as a position as possible in the open room, Hermione stared at the door as the handle turned and in walked a tall, broad shouldered man.

She gasped slightly, as she assessed him as quickly as possible. He looked no more than 25, though it was hard to tell through the scruff of his beard and long hair pulled back under his cap. He was stomping off mud and snow from his boots that were pulled over his trousers, and he hadn't taken off his leather jacket or scarf. The dark scarff was crossed with vibrant red and thin gold lines – the same pattern she had seen through the cabin.

"And what brings you here, lass?" the man spoke without even looking up from scraping his boots. Hermione's eyes went wide as she stood frozen to the spot. "This isn't the place for young girls who are apt to get lost in the woods." He looked up at her then and gave her a grin just this side of a leer. "You should leave."

Unable to find her voice for a moment, she finally sputtered "I- I can't."

"And why not? A storm's coming," he said stepping into the room. "You don't want to be here." As if to prove his point, the wind picked up at just that moment, howling faintly between the trees outside. The snow that had just barely covered the forest floor could now be seen falling through the window.

Hermione decided that if the man hadn't attacked by now, she had a better chance of trying to win him over and gain help. This was clearly a hunting cabin and was most likely stocked well. Realizing the man was staring at her, she exclaimed "Exactly!" He raised an eyebrow and continued, "A snowstorm is coming. I can't go out in it; I'm not equipped for it, nor do I know where I would go." Playing the helpless little girl should buy her some time, she thought.

"Don't play games with me, witch," he said taking another step closer. The slight edge of teasing in his gruff voice was gone. "Either state your purpose or be off with you."

"What… how…"

"I can smell your magic… It's practically rolling off you waves," he said as he came to tower in front of her. "Besides, even if that weren't true I was watching you for a good while before I came in." He grinned down at her wickedly as Hermione jumped back and pulled her wand from her sleeve.

"Who are you?"

"Perhaps the question you should be asking is 'what', little lass," he growled.

Her breath hitched slightly before reminding herself to remain calm. "Or perhaps both? No matter what you may be, I see a human standing in front of me."

A rough chuckle escaped him as he regarded her with interest for a few moments before taking another step forward.

"Ah, but what I am, is a wolf."

Hermione lowered her wand slightly, and studied his features more closely. She could see scars underneath his beard, and his eyes seemed to have a ring of amber around the cloudy blue. Besides these details, he did not seem to have any of the premature aging like the werewolf she had left back in her own time. She doubted she would have noticed had he not pointed them out.

"You're not afraid?" he asked, taking yet another step closer.

"No more afraid for learning you're a werewolf, no," she said firmly. "Though you're not completely harmless," she added, adjusting her grip on her wand.

"Curious," he said, stepping to the side and circling around her. "And why is that, witch? That you're not afraid, standing in a cabin you don't belong in, with a man you don't know, that's just admitted he's a werewolf."

"I have a friend who's a werewolf," she said, determined to keep her voice firm and in control.

"A friend?! Who's a werewolf?" He didn't hide his surprise as he came back into her sight. "Well isn't that interesting…"

They stood there in silence, staring at each other while the snow came down outside. The wind knocked tree branches together and rattled the shutters. It swept down into the the chimney and disturbed the fire, the flames pushed out from the hearth and sucked back in again. Yet there they stayed, the witch and the wolf. Unmoving as the snow continued to fall, trapping them inside.