Hermione shivered, pulling the thin tartan blanket further around her shoulders while she huddled in the doorway of the tent, she shared with her two best friends. It was cold, freezing in fact; they were in Yorkshire, camping atop of Malham Cove; thick snow covered the limestone rocks below. A nearby waterfall that cut through the rugged landscape before dropping suddenly into the cove below had frozen solid; it was bleak here, as with most places within the United Kingdom at this time.
It was a winter like none she'd experienced. Perhaps it was the dementors that now roamed the country freely, having abandoned Azkaban when Voldemort had taken over, or perhaps it was a curse set over the land. Whatever it was, it caused a cold snap that seemed endless, in this bleak winter, and this night was the coldest yet, drawing her from her bed to sit vigil, peering out into the harsh winter night.
Her boys were inside sleeping as best they could under mountains of charmed blankets; they'd been unable to keep a fire going in this weather which prevented them from having heat or a warm meal to line their empty stomachs.
Large black clouds had overtaken what had once been a breathless view of the stars. Currently hail rained down like bullets to the earth, carving marble sized holes in the deep snow, the tent was pitched atop off. A storm much worse than mere hail was coming, she could always tell when storms were coming, they made her tense, she was tense now, the icy metal of the horcrux resting against her chest, above her heart.
As though summoned by her thoughts of an impending storm; the crashing bangs of thunder sounded in the distance; causing Hermione to jump, clutching the blanket tighter with her blue tinged fingers. As a child her father had always told her to count the distance between the thunder and lightning, to determine how many miles away the storm was. Like a reflex she counted even if there was no accuracy to the mileage, it was something to do, something to distract her from the voice inside her head, the one feeding her fears.
"One – two – Three," she whispered counting the seconds before bright white lightening lightened the dark expanse of air around them.
"He won't wait for you, he's with another girl right now. You were just a plaything to keep him occupied, he's found a proper pureblood lady. He will love her, not you," a horrible reptilian like voice hissed in her subconsciousness.
"Shut up," she hissed, the voice laughed.
"Stupid girl, you know I'm right, why anyone would wait for a know it all, bushy haired Mudblood like you," the voice asked. Hermione grabbed at the golden locket and yanked it off, throwing it outside into the snow, as tears began to roll down her cheeks, stinging her flesh as they froze against her rosy cheeks.
"Fred loves me," she whispered, her memories flashing back to a different thunderstorm:
It was dark in the Gryffindor common room, the only light emitting from the full moon outside and the dying embers within the fire. Hermione sat alone; her knees held against her chest as she peered out into the night from the large window. A clap of thunder sounded from outside and Hermione began to count; "One – two – three – four – five," she counted before lightening illuminated the lake below.
"What are you doing," a bemused voice asked making her jump.
"I, oh, Fred, hi," she spluttered, her brown eyes wide as she took in his topless form, when had Fred Weasley gotten so fit, she wondered to herself as she took in his tanned flesh, sculptured torso and trail of red hair that trailed below the waistband of his pyjama pants. Fred smiled, padding barefoot over to her, and lowered himself down beside her.
"That wasn't an answer, though I love the blush," he commented, his eyes amused, Hermione felt herself flush further.
"I was counting the distance between the thunder and lightning," she told him, Fred smiled.
"Muggle thing," he asked, Hermione nodded.
"It's something my dad taught me," she whispered.
"Don't ever be ashamed of your heritage Hermione," he said, reaching out to take her hand in his, his fingers stroking along the jagged scars of Umbridge's blood quill; 'I'm not worthy of magic.'
"I'm not," she said, though the five words were carved into her flesh, she didn't believe them, she was a damn good witch and her muggle heritage and the life she'd lived prior to coming to Hogwarts had shaped her into who she currently was.
"Don't let the fire go out," he whispered.
"It already has," she told him pointing at the fire in the corner of the room, which was now nothing more than a pile of ash, Fred laughed.
"Not that fire, the fire within you, you're a firecracker Hermione," he said, his face serious as he stared at her with his hazel eyes, she'd never noticed the flecks of gold within them before, they were beautiful. Fred reached out, tucking one of her chocolate curls behind her ear, his fingers lightly stroking along her cheek as he did so.
"I'm nothing special Fred," she shook her head as thunder clapped again, lightening igniting instantly, lighting up the darkened room.
"Your so beautiful," he breathed, Hermione gasped, mesmerised, Fred smiled tenderly, leaning forward, his lips touching hers lightly, moulding across hers perfectly. Hermione raised her hand to his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss. On the floor of the Gryffindor Common Room they snogged like the teenagers they were, unaware of what they'd face in the coming years.
"Hermione what are you doing, you're going to catch your death," Ron asked, drawing her from her memory.
"Nothing Ron, I'm fine," she sniffled, Ron sighed, she heard the shuffling of blankets and then her lanky friend was sitting next to her, wrapping her up in extra blankets like a human burrito.
"What did it say to you," he asked, glaring out of the tents opening to where the locket still laid about three feet from the pair of them.
"It's stupid," she confessed.
"Most fears are, doesn't make them less real," a new voice spoke as Harry squished himself down on her other side, sandwiching her between him and Ron.
"That Fred doesn't love me," she whispered.
"Your right that's stupid," Ron nodded.
"RON," Harry warned.
"What it is, I've never seen a more devoted muppet, he's bonkers for you Hermione," Ron reassured, wrapping an arm around her, she laughed.
"He's right, Fred loves you," Harry said hugging her as well.
"Thanks guys," she said, resting her head against Harry's shoulder.
"What are best friends for," Ron asked quietly.
"I couldn't ask for better friends," she said quietly. Harry and Ron sat with her, watching the storm rage on, and Hermione felt safe, reassured. She couldn't wait until it was safe to see Fred again, she hoped he has been careful and that he hadn't been getting into too much trouble. For now she had Ron and Harry to help her when she felt down and that was enough, but as certain as she had been that a storm was coming, she was just as certain she'd be in her boyfriend's arms again soon and she couldn't wait for that moment. She missed Fred like crazy but for now this was enough.
