Hermione shivered as she stepped out of the castle with Ginny and into the bitter chill of the winter. It was mid-December and the school grounds were covered in snow.
"You're really going to practice in this weather?" she asked the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain incredulously, readjusting her scarf and pulling her cloak more tightly around herself to keep the bite of cold at bay.
"We practice snow or shine," Ginny replied, a blazing look of determination on her face. "We need to train harder now more than ever if we want to make sure we win the Quidditch Cup this year. And we have to win, even if that means upping the number of practices per week. Maybe adding a couple more morning training sessions would do us good — the team won't like that, but we need to do whatever it takes to get the Cup."
"You're starting to sound like Oliver Wood."
"Thanks. I hear he's doing well playing for Puddlemere United."
They started across the grounds, making a new trail in the snow. Ginny gazed out thoughtfully at the pale gray and white horizon before looking back at Hermione. "You'll be coming to my house for Christmas, won't you?"
"I don't know. My parents really want me to spend the holidays with them."
"They're always welcome at the Burrow, too. You should all come."
"Thanks, but we're going to be staying with some relatives. You know, catching up with some family we haven't seen since I modified my parents' memories and sent them to Australia."
"Do you think you could maybe join us just for Christmas Eve and spend the rest of the holiday with your family? Mum invited some people over to celebrate with us: Luna and her dad, Hagrid, Lupin…" Ginny smiled as Hermione glanced at her with heightened interest. "Things seem to be going well between you two. You're always in a happy mood whenever you come back from disappearing to his office and doing whatever it is that you do when you get together."
"We discuss the Defense Club and prepare for the next meeting, you know that."
"Hmmm…are all those meetings between you two really necessary? Or is it just his clever excuse to see you alone outside of class?"
Hermione smiled, knowing Ginny was just trying to keep her optimistic. But the truth was that everything really was going well with Remus. The spark of hope that had renewed in her after talking with Ginny about everything that had transpired between her and Remus in the past had gotten stronger in the few weeks since that conversation, stronger with the more time she spent with Remus preparing for Defense Club. She was only sad that tonight's meeting with him would be the final one before the holidays.
"Anyway," Ginny continued, "if he comes to our house for Christmas Eve, don't you think it'd be a good opportunity for you to spend some quality time with him outside the school environment?"
Hermione considered this wonderful prospect but refused to commit herself just yet. Instead she said, "And Harry will be there, too, right? I assume you two are planning to spend every minute that you can together while you're home from school."
"Yeah. Of course."
Hermione frowned slightly, finding Ginny's tone strange. Neither of them had seen Harry since her birthday, so she was surprised by her friend's lack of enthusiasm. "I thought you'd be more excited than that."
Ginny readjusted the bag of Quidditch gear hanging from her shoulder. "I'm more nervous than anything else, to be honest."
"Why?"
"Because we haven't seen each other in months and I'm afraid things might feel weird between us. I'm afraid he might realize his feelings for me have changed."
"They haven't. Harry will be as crazy about you as ever, even more so since you haven't seen each other in so long and he obviously misses you. That's why he writes to you so much. More than he's written to me, by the way, which I'm going to have a word with him about. Don't worry, everything will be fine."
"I hope so," Ginny sighed as she and Hermione reached the point where they would go their separate ways. "Tell Hagrid I said hi."
Hermione watched as her friend headed toward the Quidditch pitch and pitied her and the other poor Gryffindors who had to practice out in the freezing cold while she would be drinking tea in Hagrid's cozy hut.
Remus avoided Honeydukes during his trip to Hogsmeade for some supplies, but he ended up running into Vivienne anyway. He quite literally bumped into her as he exited one of the shops.
"Hey there, stranger," she greeted coolly, and he got the impression she was slightly miffed that he'd never sought her out after they'd had drinks together a couple of months ago. He felt obliged to apologize and make up an excuse, after which she gave him an easy smile and told him, "I expect you'll make it up to me after the holidays."
Remus was glad she didn't have time to chat.
He plodded through the snow back to Hogwarts, lost in thought. That's why when he reached the castle grounds and felt something cold strike his chest, he didn't immediately realize what it was. He looked around and found Hermione a few yards away from him, smiling, a sphere of white in her black gloves. Had she just thrown a snowball at him?
"Hermione," he said sternly, "do not forget I am your teacher. I could give you detention for that."
Her smile faltered and Remus took advantage of the moment to swiftly scoop up a snowball of his own and aim it at her. She didn't react fast enough to dodge the unexpected hit. However, taking his action and the grin that accompanied it as permission, she recovered well by slinging at him the ready-made weapon in her hands. The battle was on.
The pair crisscrossed the lonely grounds, running, ducking, feinting, and casting snowballs with varying degrees of accuracy. They playfully challenged each other out into the open when one of them took cover behind a tree and teased each other with laughter when their shots hit their mark.
Remus couldn't remember the last time he'd had this much fun, or the last time he'd had a snowball fight. It had to have been years and years ago, perhaps even as far back as his schooldays. He remembered one snowball fight in particular during his seventh year when all his friends had ganged up on him at one point. Having Hermione as his only adversary now was significantly less overwhelming.
She was clever, though, even in her play. When they were near the Great Lake, she aimed a snowball at the tree over his head and the snow that had gathered on the branches fell onto him before he could move away. He shook the cold out of his hair, then chased after Hermione and the sound of her pleasant laughter. He'd nearly caught up to her when she turned to throw another snowball at him and got tripped up. She tumbled to the ground, sinking deep into the snow.
Remus rushed over to her in concern as she struggled to sit up. But when she looked up at him, she grinned.
"You've still got snow in your hair."
He laughed, amazed that she could be so amused by that when she herself was buried in the snow. "So do you. In fact, you're covered in snow."
"Help me up, then, will you?" She held out her hand. "I'm freezing."
Remus pulled her out of the snowy blanket that had enveloped her, but she somehow lost her footing again. She stumbled into him, clutching his coat to keep from falling, while he instinctively caught her around the waist. And in that moment, as he held her in his steadying embrace during this respite from their spirited winter battle, a strong sense of déjà vu struck him. But it was forgotten nearly as soon as it had registered.
The wind picked up just as suddenly, and viciously, blowing bitter cold and fresh snow all around them. Remus took no notice. All he felt as he stood huddled with Hermione amid the swirling white flurry was the tingling warmth of her hands on his chest. He gazed down at her lovely face pink with cold, close enough to see himself in the chocolate brown eyes searching his, the light freckles on her nose. A strand of her unruly hair danced in front of her delicate features and he gently brushed it back. The movement felt so natural to him, like he'd done it many times before. Holding her in his arms like this felt so natural, and comforting — until he realized he'd been holding her for much longer than was necessary and appropriate.
He backed away from her quickly, feeling dazed, just as Hagrid came trudging his way through the snow to them, shooting them both a vaguely questioning look.
"All righ', Remus?" he said before turning to Hermione. "You forgot yer bag."
"Oh, thank you, Hagrid."
Hagrid made a comment about how the new snowstorm that was brewing would be arriving soon and raging all night. He advised them to make haste to the castle. Remus and Hermione heeded his words.
With snowflakes kissing their faces and the whipping and howling wind assailing them all the way, the pair raced toward the refuge of the castle. Then, exhausted and wet and frozen to the core, they hurried up to Remus's office where the inviting warmth of the fire awaited them.
They took off their cloaks and stood side by side before the fireplace, Hermione shivering and Remus attempting to reorient himself after the moment that had passed between them minutes ago. An unfamiliar feeling had seeped into his consciousness and it disconcerted him not to understand exactly what it was. He slanted his gaze down at Hermione just as she glanced up at him.
"Will you be going to the Burrow for Christmas Eve?" she asked, her face softly illuminated by the shifting glow of the flames.
Remus shook his previous thoughts from his mind and remembered the letter Molly Weasley had sent him, insisting that he join them or else she'd be mightily offended. "I am. I wouldn't pass up an opportunity to enjoy Molly's fine cooking. And the Burrow, of course, is a wonderful place to be, especially during the holidays. The Weasleys are somehow always able to make you feel as though you're part of the family."
"I know what you mean. Harry, Ginny, all of them — they're like the siblings I never had. And, you know, I think they do consider us to be part of the family."
"So will you be going as well?"
"Yes, I think I will."
Remus could see that she was still trembling slightly and pulled out his wand.
"Here, this will be faster," he said and touched his wand to her sleeve, making her clothes instantly warm and dry.
Her shivering ceased at once. "Ooh, thank you."
Remus performed the same spell on himself, and when he glanced again at Hermione, he found her eyeing the black scarf around his neck with interest. Feeling self-conscious, he moved away from her, away from the crackling fire, and took a seat behind his desk. The scarf he wore was faded and frayed like the rest of his shabby clothing. To be fair, though, it was in terrific shape considering how old it was. He'd gotten it as a Christmas gift when he was seventeen, and he'd always taken great care of it. It was his favorite — cozy and soft, with his name stitched in silver at one end — but, funnily enough, he couldn't remember who had knit it for him.
Hermione joined him at his desk and they began to discuss their plans for the final Defense Club meeting of this term — the reason for their get-together this evening. As they talked, Remus couldn't help but notice how different the Head Girl was now compared to when she'd been in his office a few weeks ago. She'd been brokenhearted and teary-eyed then while the girl who sat before him presently was lighthearted and beaming, a stark contrast but a very welcome one. He was glad she was in better spirits.
He supposed that her boy trouble troubled her no more. She must have worked things out with Viktor Krum — the guy he surmised she'd been talking about that day. Krum matched the description she'd given anyway: he wasn't a student at Hogwarts, he was older than her, and they'd dated in the past. Remus had also remembered when coming to this conclusion the comment that Ron Weasley had made on Hermione's birthday about her and the famous Quidditch player writing long letters to each other, and it all seemed to fit. He didn't like Krum for Hermione one bit, but he had to admit she seemed happy. He'd been a witness to the gradual uplifting of her spirits the last few weeks and that change was likely attributed to an improvement in her relationship.
But he could only guess. Hermione hadn't mentioned anything about her boy trouble or Krum since that day, though they'd talked about many things besides. Their conversation during these meetings tended to have a lot of digressions. He had no idea how they'd gotten onto the topic of skiing this evening, but after Hermione described her atrocious attempt in France a few years ago, Remus began telling her about his own skiing adventure with Sirius and James one winter holiday.
A knock on the door interrupted his anecdote.
"Come in," Remus said.
The door swung open, revealing Professor McGonagall holding some sort of object wrapped up in a sheet of cloth. She began to speak but then caught sight of Hermione.
"Miss Granger — what are you doing here so late?" she asked in surprise.
Remus checked his watch and started: it was half an hour past curfew.
"We were discussing our plans for the next Defense Club meeting," he answered before Hermione could. "I lost track of time. I apologize."
"It was my fault, Professor," Hermione said, glancing at him. "I had a lot of questions, and, well, sorry for taking up so much of your time."
McGonagall watched her quickly grab her bag and exit the room, then turned back to Remus.
"When you get a chance, could you take a look at this?" The Headmistress carefully uncovered the wrapped up object to show him. "I fear it may be traced with Dark Magic."
McGonagall began to explain how she'd come across the suspicious item and spoke not another word about Hermione, yet Remus experienced a twinge of uneasiness under the Headmistress's gaze. He tried to ignore it. After all, he hadn't meant to keep Hermione past her curfew. It had been an innocent mistake. Why, then, did he feel so guilty?