The plane touched down hours earlier than I’d expected, and by the time I stepped outside, the campus was buried in snow. The air was crisp and sharp, the kind of cold that made your cheeks ache and your lungs burn pleasantly. Boots crunching against the frozen ground, I moved toward her dorm, a mischievous grin tugging at my lips.

Her window caught my eye, a little light spilling out against the blanket of white. I crouched, picked up a small pebble from the snow, and tapped it lightly against the glass. Then I waited, breath fogging in the cold, for her to notice.

Moments later, movement—a blur of excitement—and suddenly she was bounding down the steps, hair loose, scarf trailing, eyes wide and sparkling.

“Harry!” she exclaimed, launching herself into my arms. I caught her, laughing at the way she kicked her boots in the air. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

“I had to see you,” I murmured, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “Miss me?”

“Too much!” she said, tugging me toward the courtyard. The snow made a crunchy symphony under our boots as we ran, threw snow at each other, and rolled around in the drifts. I couldn’t stop laughing—the sound of her laughter was infectious, pure, and it made everything else in the world disappear.

At one point, I scooped her up, carrying her through a small hill of fresh snow while she squealed and tried to wiggle free. “Harry! Put me down!” she protested through laughter.

“Not a chance,” I said, pressing a quick kiss to her nose, leaving a small smudge of snow on her cheek. She laughed harder, trying to wipe it off, but I just smiled, enjoying the way her eyes crinkled.

We collapsed near the bottom of the hill, snow clinging to our hair and coats, breathless and giggling. She leaned against me, gloved hands warm against my chest. “This… this is perfect,” she murmured.

“Yeah,” I agreed, brushing snow off her hair, letting my fingers linger. “Just you, me, and snow. No tour, no cameras, no distance. Just this.”

She curled closer, resting her head against my shoulder, and I realized how much I’d missed moments like this. Small, stolen pockets of time that made everything else worth it. I could feel the week ahead stretching before us—full of lazy mornings, coffee runs, and walks in the snow—and for once, I wasn’t thinking about anything but her.

And as we stayed there, tangled up in the snow, laughing and shivering together, I knew this was exactly where I was meant to be.