Hermione was alone in the bed when she woke up the next morning.
Of course, she didn't think much of it immediately. She heard voices in the kitchen and came out of the room sleepily, bundled up in someone else's much-too-big robe, its plush hem skimming the floor as she moved. She felt wholly rested, more at peace than she had in some time, though she could not put her finger on why.
Remus smiled at her warmly over his mug of tea; Harry glanced up at her too and grinned.
Family, she thought, the word appearing in her mind as an image, and suddenly she was overcome with a great wave of affection for every person in that little house.
She poured herself some tea and the three of them sat together at the kitchen table for a peaceful moment, sipping quietly, feeling safe and warm in the cozy kitchen, with the hazy sunlight shifting through the curtains as it had every morning since their arrival.
After another moment, Remus spoke with a smile still on his lips.
"Should one of us go wake Sirius, then?"
"Oh!" Hermione said in surprise. "But I thought he'd come out already?"
Remus and Harry exchanged a glance.
"No," Harry managed after another minute. "We've been out here all night into the morning. Sirius never came out of the bedroom."
Hermione set her mug down quickly, her heart inexplicably beginning to race.
"I suppose… the windows?"
"The windows in the bedroom don't open," Remus breathed.
Hermione raced back toward the bedroom, the other two on her heels.
Perhaps I was still in a dream state when I woke, she thought. Perhaps I only dreamed that I was all alone and Sirius was lying there beside me all along, and he's still there now.
Indeed, when she opened the door she fully expected to find him there, his dark hair spreading across the white pillowcase, the bedsheets tangled around his legs, the ghost of a smile haunting his handsome face.
But there was nothing, no one.
Hermione halted in the doorway as the other two caught up to her, trying to absorb the vacant scene and what it meant. But all was just as she remembered, exactly as she'd left it. The sheets still rumpled in the empty bed.
The room slid away from her rather suddenly; Remus caught her as she fell.
"I don't understand," Harry whispered anxiously from somewhere behind them, his voice cracking. "What's happened?"
Remus and Hermione looked at each other. The moment seemed to hold an eternity. For of course it had been inevitable, hadn't it? From the beginning, Sirius had only ever been here, with them, on borrowed time.
Still dressed only in the robe, Hermione shakily got back to her feet and walked with increasing purpose through the hall to the living room, where she and Sirius had played chess all that time ago. How much time had it been? It felt simultaneously as if a hundred years had passed and just a few days.
The chessboard was folded up, the burlap bag of pieces resting atop it on a corner of the coffee table. Hermione stared so hard that for a moment she could imagine the two of them sitting there still. She could feel the warmth of his skin as she pressed her king into his open hand.
"Hermione…" Remus murmured softly, touching her shoulder.
There was a lump in her throat that wouldn't go away no matter how many times she swallowed. She couldn't look at Remus yet because she knew if she did, she would fall apart. She could hear the tears in Remus' voice as it wavered.
"Hermione," he said again, and Hermione whirled, plunging herself into Remus' arms, for all she knew in that moment was how much she wanted to be held, every scene of their time together rushing through her mind on an incredible loop, the memories all out of order—the chess game, yes; the first time the three of them had slept together; Sirius coming into her room after their fight in his dog form, nuzzling into her side, the glint of his smile and his handsome gray eyes; the sight of him asleep on the pillow, stealing all of the blankets for himself as he laughed and laughed and laughed—oh god, the sound of his laughter, rich and deep and full, she could have listened to Sirius Black laugh for the rest of her life—
She could still remember, with perfect clarity, how he had felt inside of her the night before.
Hermione cried for a long time as Remus held her, rubbing her back, kissing the top of her head. She was vaguely aware of Harry hanging back, the gloss of tears on his own cheeks.
"But I loved him," Hermione choked out, as if that would bring him back, as if it could change anything. She had no real sense of how much time that had passed since she'd woken up alone. It could have minutes, it could have been a day. She wondered what time Sirius had left them last night. If he'd watched her sleeping form as he faded. Whether he'd reached for her as he did.
"I know," Remus whispered into her hair, and she finally found the strength to look up at him. His eyes were wet. She understood that his loss was much like hers, and yet somehow went beyond her understanding at the same time. After all, Remus and Sirius had met before she'd ever known either of them.
And yet the bond the three of them had shared, however fleetingly, remained unlike any other.
"I loved him too," Remus said softly, barely a whisper now.
She reached up and cupped her hand to his face and kissed him. It was a lasting kiss—warm and soft and full of meaning as their tears mingled.
Sirius had loved her. Remus loved her, too. It had seemed impossible, and yet, in the end, it had been effortless. It made sense.
They pulled apart, breathed deep.
"He would want us to be together," Remus said, touching her face.
"I know."
"He loved us both."
Hermione swallowed.
"I know."
Remus pressed her to his chest, his fingers moving gently down the length of her hair, the way she liked. Hermione's eyes fluttered closed, and when she opened them again some time later, she saw that the front door was open.
Harry was gone.
"Remus…"
They ran out the front door together, hearts in their throats, half-expecting Harry to have vanished, too. Time felt unsteady, as if the events of their lives were just as likely to spool backward instead of forward.
But no—they were met instead with an incredible sight.
Hermione gasped.
The snow had melted, seemingly overnight. But what they were seeing was not the barren wasteland of winter's end—not bare trees, nor brown, brittle earth depleted by pervasive cold. No.
Spring had burst into full bloom around them, the cumulative sight of which gave the effect of weeks having passed since the snow's disappearance. The grass was actively growing around their feet as they moved through it, thick green full blades soft under their bare feet. The trees bore all of their leaves now, some branches even newly laden with ripe fruit.
A tiny nightingale flew from one branch of the closest tree to another as they looked on in awe, offering a sweet melody as it flew. The song sounded lightly inquisitive, as if the bird was confused by their surprise. Spring is here, the little bird seemed to be saying as it watched the incredulous new arrivals with curiosity.
Flowers sprouted all around Remus and Hermione as they walked further out. Remus knelt and plucked a daisy as it stretched toward the sun, turned and tucked it into Hermione's hair.
Though it had been winter merely a day before, spring had somehow, impossibly, arrived. It seemed almost as if Sirius had taken the last of the snow and the cold and the chill and left them this new season, as a gift: one final offering for the people he loved.
Harry was standing in the center of the circle of trees, spinning around and around with childlike abandon. Another bird fluttered toward him and lit upon his outstretched hand as he slowed, grasping his index finger with its small talons: a dove.
Harry laughed outright; the joy made him look years younger.
"I don't understand," Harry said, awash in his incredulous delight. "I don't understand at all. Didn't you say it had been winter for months?"
"Yes," Remus said simply, clearly at a loss for words.
Hermione soaked in their surroundings in perpetual awe, letting the sunlight wash over her through the spaces in the leafy green canopy overhead. And then, as if suddenly remembering herself, she turned to look back at the cottage.
She could see the roof properly for the first time now that the ever-present layer of snow that had once coated it was finally gone. She could make out the individual shingles—a bright, vibrant brick red. The frost, too, had vanished from the windowpanes. And she could properly see the golden plaque over the front door—the one that held the name Peverell.
She shook her head in disbelief. It seemed that there were some mysteries even Hermione Granger would never properly solve. Some things she might never be able to explain.
But wasn't that the very definition of magic, in the end?
She turned back to watch Harry dancing carefree through the grass, sunlight sparkling in his jet-black hair as he laughed. A kaleidoscope of butterflies flitted past them—painted ladies, from the looks of it, and in no particular hurry.
As Hermione drew her fingers through Remus', she thought she could just make out the shape of a big black dog trotting away in the distance. But perhaps that bit was only her imagination.
"Where do you think he is now?" Hermione asked.
"I think he's… gone on," Remus said, using the words that Nearly Headless Nick employed whenever he talked to students about the unanswerable mystery of death. "I think Sirius was here for a reason, and he fulfilled it."
Remus paused.
"But for what it's worth, I don't think the reason was only to destroy a horcrux."
He looked at her then and smiled softly, giving her hand in his a gentle squeeze.
Together they looked out into the distance, where Hermione thought she might've seen the dog trot off into the horizon. Then Remus spoke again.
"We still have a long journey ahead of us, Hermione."
"I know."
"But I think we're going to make it."
She kissed him.
"Me too."
And they turned their gaze, once again, upon the Boy Who Lived.
A/N: I've wanted to write this story for a long time. Thank you all for your thoughtful and encouraging reviews, as well as your favorites and follows. It remains to be seen if I'm going to write any more Harry Potter fanfiction, but in any case I'm very happy to have had the chance to share The Wintering with all of you. These three will always be my favorites.
