It took some time for Hermione to be comfortable taking initiative and lending a hand when they broke or set up camp. Having spent so long living in fear and being punished whenever she did something she wasn't specifically directed to do in Azkaban waiting for instruction had become something she did subconsciously. While she knew logically that no one in the fellowship would actually harm her for doing something on her own, she couldn't stop her heart from racing and her lungs constricting in fear when she considered it. She had finally reached a point during their journey where she didn't worry about causing trouble when she took initiative to lend a hand.
Her companions were sure to make her feel included in conversation now, with the exception of Gimli who still tended to skirt around her. She tried not to be offended by his attitude but it was difficult not to be resentful when he was perfectly at ease around Gandalf. True, her magic was different from the old wizards, but she hadn't attacked anyone in this new world who hadn't first attacked her.
Her lessons had extended out to include other members of their troupe. While she continued the bow with Legolas, magic with Gandalf, and practical lessons with Sam, she also had Aragorn showing her how to track and read the signs of her surroundings. Every night found her falling into a deep sleep quickly with all the extra work she had after a full day of walking.
Tonight Hermione found herself sitting with the others around their fire instead of going to lie down. She didn't feel the need to join in on the conversations but was perfectly content to let the low hum of voices wash over her. Closing her eyes she breathed deeply allowing the fresh air to fill her lungs. Her life had taken so many unexpected turns at this point it was amazing. She shouldn't be surprised anymore, but she was. She was surprised that she could find peace after everything she had been through in her short life. Some may not describe trekking through the wilderness to destroy a ring to stop a horrible evil as peaceful or relaxing, but she would take the mild inconvenience of outdoor living over her stay in Azkaban any day.
Slightly startled by movement beside her, Hermione opened her eyes and found Boromir taking the seat beside her. He had his sword out and once he was settled began to sharpen the blade. She watched as the light from the fire flickered and danced across the weapon entranced by how something so dangerous could be so beautiful; she wasn't entirely sure if she meant the sword or the flames. Closing her eyes once more she leaned her head against Aragorn's shoulder on her other side and allowed the rhythmic sound of stone against blade to lull her into a light sleep. Unable to see his face at this angle and with her eyes closed, Hermione missed the tender look he gave her when he felt her against his shoulder.
Hermione couldn't stop the shiver that raced up her spine as more snow went over the tops of her boots. Her feet were long since frozen and she knew the others couldn't be doing much better. She knew Gandalf had his reasons for feeling the pass at Caradhras would be their safest option but she was beginning to wonder at the wisdom of such a decision when the Hobbits could barely make it through the deep snow.
While it may have appeared to be Frodo's decision on which path they took, it was obvious he knew nothing about either option and had simply gone with Gandalf's choice because he was a familiar figure in the hobbits' life. There was no doubt in her mind that if Frodo had known what this path would entail he would have chosen differently. It was obvious as day how miserable the poor hobbits were as they trudged slowly at the back of the group in the hopes that the taller in their party could cut a path for them.
She couldn't shake the resemblance the wizard had to Dumbeldore. He too liked to keep secrets and give the appearance of allowing others to make choices. He hadn't even given a valid reason why they couldn't pass through the mines. Gimli had made a compelling argument and those roaring fires and warm food sounded even better up here on this snow covered mountain.
She found she had also never been as jealous of Legolas and his skills that came with being born an elf before. Maybe jealous wasn't the right word.. Envy. That was the word. She couldn't help but be envious of him as he gracefully strode across the snow banks completely unencumbered by sinking into them. It seemed he wasn't nearly as bothered by the cold either. Lucky.
She felt a tug on her cloak and turned to see one of the hobbits had grabbed hold of her in an effort to keep his balance. It was difficult to tell through the blowing snow when they all had their hoods up and heads down but she suspected it was Merry. Being the tallest of the hobbits he had decided to be the first of his kind in an effort to help his friends. What good it did she wasn't sure as the snow continued to fly around them, the wind destroying any paths they tried to make. Turning back around she bumped into Boromir who had stopped ahead of her without warning.
Trying to squint through the blizzard, Hermione could see the outline of Legolas a short way ahead of Gandalf. From his posture he seemed to be attempting to listen; though what he hoped to hear aside from the howling winds she had no idea. She watched as he turned to Gandalf and they appeared to have a conversation before the wizard turned to the open air beside their treacherous path and held his staff aloft. She couldn't make out the words but it looked like he was fighting against the winds that had picked up in fury against them.
Hearing an echoing crack split the air, Hermione jerked her head upward only to see a horrifying amount of snow falling toward them. Whatever power that Galdalf had been battling, it appeared he had lost. Without a second thought Hermione raised her arms and pushed as much magic through them as she could muster. The shouting of those who had also noticed the avalanche were quickly silenced as it suddenly halted in its descent. Immediately she felt the strain of holding up so much weight but it would mean death for them all if she faltered. She could feel the others moving around her and speaking with raised voices but she forced all of her concentration into holding up the snow.
It didn't take long for her strength to wane. The others needed to make a decision and fast because she was losing her grip on the snow above them. Terror gripped her heart as she watched the field of white slowly begin to sink lower, bringing them that much closer to an icy death. Unsure of what else she could do, Hermione used the last of her strength for one last surge of power, redirecting the frozen mass over the edge beside them so it would miss them completely as it came crashing down.
Immediately dark spots began to fill her vision and she felt strong arms lift her as her legs gave out. She could hear the alarm in several voices but her ears felt like they were filled with cotton, causing everything else to be muffled and sound far away. She felt the gentle sway that came with being carried and turned her face into the body she was held against. Taking a deep breath in she was surrounded by a familiar smell; the smell of safety and she knew who must have caught her. Knowing she would be safe with him Hermione allowed the darkness to claim her.