“Tell me again, Granger, why you are dragging me outside in the snow tonight when we could be warm inside the castle?” Draco sniffed and looked down at the bothersome snowflake that had just landed on his shoulder.
Looping her arm through his and holding on tight, Hermione tutted, “Oh but you are a grump! Come on. This is exactly what we need.”
“We need frozen toes?” he murmured, shoes crunching through the snow. Hermione pulled him along until they came to a small clearing.
“We need quiet, Malfoy. Just shh. Stop for a moment.”
The more time they spent together, the more he realized he could not fight her. He watched as she stepped away from him into a background of blues and greys. She took a deep breath of the crisp night air, lifting her face to the overcast sky.
“It’s so still right now. The air is soft and…”
“The air is cold,” he mumbled.
Hermione squinted one eye and pursed her lips. He flinched when she whipped her wand out from her bag and pointed it at him. “For the love of… Are you a wizard? We can conjure a fire. I have kindling here already. Just… come here.” She puffed out steam as she directed him with the wand.
He muttered to himself as he created the spark for a decent sized fire, but did as he was told. Begrudgingly, he shuffled through the snow to stand in front of her. He huffed.
“As I was saying, out here it’s quiet and still in the snow. Do you feel it? The air feels cold but it’s somehow soft; not musty or stuffy like inside the castle. The sound over the snow is muted. Inside there is always so much.” She looked past him, bringing a hand to her sternum and pressing in with a deep breath. “It’s overwhelming,” she continued quietly. “With the voices and memories and… well it can be hard for me to turn it all off sometimes. This is… peaceful.” She glanced back at him. “And I thought maybe… you might need some peace, as well.”
“I don’t,” he began, but she grabbed his hands with both of hers and looked up at him. “Please,” she whispered. “Close your eyes. Breathe in the cool night air with me and let’s just have quiet for once.”
He watched her close her eyes before closing his own. Then he listened to her inhale and exhale before conceding and taking a deep breath. Cold air stung the inside of his nose. “Now blow out slowly. Good. Again,” she said softly. She still held his hands. Taking another deep breath in, he felt her breathe out.
Her warm breath kissed across his skin as she exhaled. He opened his eyes. Watched her lashes flutter against light freckles as she breathed in again. Saw the pink that had bloomed across her cheeks and tip of her nose in the cold air. Felt the warmth of her hands on his icy fingertips.
A small amount of moonlight lit up the snow behind her, casting new shadows and throwing icy stars across the field. Her curls lifted away from her face as the wind gusted and the snow winked and twinkled behind her. He couldn’t breathe. She shivered and opened her eyes. “Alright, maybe it is cold.” With a final squeeze of his hands, she let go.
He was frozen in place as his mind whirled.
Finally, he turned and followed her to the fire where she was pulling a fluffy quilt from her bag. Clearing his throat, he huffed out a laugh. “Bit presumptuous of you, Granger. Do you have other plans for keeping me out in the elements?” Snark felt more comfortable than forgetting how to breathe around her. She simply smiled and patted the ground beside her. “You know I am always prepared. Careful there Malfoy, or I might not share.” His feet guided him to sit next to her. He could not argue.
The quilt was large enough to throw over their backs, and the fire was warm. They sat that way for a while, just listening to the quiet crackling of the fire and watching the dry twigs burn bright. He was loathe to admit it, but she was right, of course. It was still. And quiet. And peaceful. But he could not seem to catch his breath. As the wind kicked up again, she nestled closer to him. Her body felt like fire against his arm where she touched. He swallowed. Her arm snaked through his and she laid her head on his shoulder.
Before he could ask what she was doing, she sighed, “Eighth year is not exactly what I thought it would be.” Surprised, he turned his face toward her. With another gust of wind, he was suddenly breathing in the scent of her vanilla shampoo as she huddled closer to him. “Despite always trying to be prepared, I mainly feel…overwhelmed,” she continued. Her scent surrounded him, her grip tightened on his arm, the heat from her hand seeped through his shirt, and her voice broke on the last word. Draco looked up at the sky and puffed air from his nose. “I know what you mean.”
She pulled her head up to consider him as he turned to face her, firelight dancing in their eyes as they met. Neither moved. Breaths held. He scanned her face, landing on her lips. Her mouth parted slightly as she took a shallow breath. Leaning in, the tips of their cold noses met and lips ghosted over each other. He edged his nose along hers, holding back his breath and the sensation of his heart on the verge of galloping from his chest. She shuddered out a breath as he greedily breathed it in, and with a small surge forward, their lips finally met. Slow. Soft. Tentative. For a brief moment: peace.
Gently pulling back, she tucked into him again, smiling as she rested her head back on his shoulder. He closed his eyes and noted the lack of tension in his chest. He could breathe again.
“I refuse to say you were right, Granger.”
“Oh?” she hummed. The cold wind barely registered now, and he could hear the smile in both her voice and his own.
“But perhaps there is, after all, something unexpected here that we need.”
