Snow had settled over Hogsmeade sometime in the early morning, soft and stubborn.

By afternoon it had turned the whole village quiet — rooftops dusted white, footsteps muffled beneath boots.

Students filled the main street in noisy clusters, but the two of you had drifted toward the edges where it was quieter.

Remus preferred it that way.

Your boots crunched through the snow as you walked beside him, the cold air pinking your cheeks. Somewhere behind you a group of third-years shrieked with laughter outside Honeydukes. Down the street you can see the other marauders - James, Sirius and Peter.

"Here." Remus gives you a warm goblet of butterbeer.