"I missed you so."
The gravestone didn't answer; Hermione hadn't actually expected it to but it felt rude all the same.
"But now I'm rather glad you aren't here, Ronald, because I'm not sure you'd like me now. Goodbye."
A cold winter wind found its way between the layers of wool around her, expensive and heavy wool with dozens of charms enhancing the material. Tom would ask to speak to her tailor on her behalf, advising them exactly why she shouldn't be allowed to feel cold with a several hundred galleon cloak, but Hermione would prefer to deliver that message herself.
prompt from: anonymous
