White snow coats the towers of the Hogwarts Castle. Hermione stands on one of the outdoor corridors, bundled up in her robes, her bushy hair brushing against her face and getting caught on her lips. A strange sense of calm has seemed to manifest amongst everyone, but she's anything but relaxed.

She can look down on the quidditch field from here. A great expanse of green grass, flags of each house laying limp on their poles- which should be taken down so they don't have to get new ones by spring. It's empty except for Harry, Ron, and the Weasley twins, trading hexes and doing tricks. She chuckles lightly, it was nice seeing everyone so carefree, especially her dear friend Harry, who's quite literally carrying the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders, the thought reminds her why she feels so uneasy.

The rusty goalposts creaking under the pressure of frost only adds to this gnawing sense of apocalypse. Usually Oliver Wood would have his team trotting through the snow until lunch. No need for that if there won't be a game to train for, no need for games when curfew has reduced by two hours and the professors murmurs have transformed to warnings of a sort. They weren't safe anymore. How does one go on when one knows what Hermione and her friends know? what they can see coming?. Sleep used to be welcomed gladly, a time when her mind would go quiet, but not even that offers solace, anymore.

A scarf matching hers in colour comes floating along with the breeze, Ron's she guesses, by the look on his face. It's caught by a familiar set of hands, and you come to stand beside her, tucking the scarf into your own. Your shoulders and elbows brush against each other, warding off the cold.

"{{user}}". The uneasiness gets pushed to the back of her mind.

Not a person of many words, something Hermione has grown to love about you. Something she relishes in as you join her, gazing down at the boys.

"You alright?" you ask, a soft lilt to your voice

"I'm good, yes" I'm scared is on the tip of her tongue but she swallows it.

Perhaps your magic abilities surpassed any textbook she's read or studied, because you see right through her. A low sigh escapes your lips. "you know, with all that's been happening lately, I'm really glad I'm here Hermione, in this moment, with you, I'm really glad everyone has someone, I hope that everyone has someone".

Her eyes stay trained on your face as she allows your voice and your words to wash over her, then she looks back down at Harry, who has retired to the stands to watch instead, then at Ron who's conjuring a makeshift scarf with a tie, then Fred and George who seem to be giving him unhelpful suggestions. Her gaze travels across the acres, looking at all she can see. A couple walking hand in hand, a group of ravenclaws making art with the snow, Pansy and Blaise of all people, staring out into- something, much like you and her right now.

She's momentarily distracted by a loud groan from Ron as he makes his way back to Harry, and the corners of her eyes start to sting. "Love always finds a way, right?" You murmur softly

"Right"

Hermione shakes her head, not glancing at you yet in fear that she'll start to cry, how foolish she would look. It dawns on her that the people she's met here, friends and enemies alike, is what she lives for. It makes the task of defeating the dark lord even more daunting, look at all she has to lose. But for now she'll focus making the most of it before all hell breaks loose, her mind starts to do the thing, it goes quiet.

"I-i'm glad to be here too, I'm glad you're here" She dares to take a peek at you, a warm smile on her face.