Chapter Text
“The snow’s letting up.”
“Hm?” Hermione murmured, intently focused on an especially ponderous paragraph from her Herbology reading.
“Want to go for a walk?”
“What?” Hermione raised her eyes from her notes to see Harry gazing out the window of the Hogwarts library, as he folded up a piece of parchment.
He turned to face her. “The sun is getting brighter, and it’s Friday afternoon. No classes until Monday, Hermione. We should get out of the library for once and go for a walk.”
At that moment, a frigid breeze kicked up a small whirlwind of white powdery snow that battered against the panes. With their rattling came a light chill to the air that Hermione could feel even several feet away. “Tempting,” she muttered, trying to restrain her sarcasm, “but the weather is already perfect in here.”
“In the library?” said Harry, moving back to sit down across from her at their library table. It really was their table. Since November, they had spent time several days each week alone there, so younger students had begun treating it as reserved entirely for them. “The weather… in the library?” He chuckled softly. “Always partly cloudy with a slight chance of mustiness.”
“Sounds like a poor ventilation problem, especially in winter,” Hermione said dryly. “If books are maintained at their proper humidity level, they shouldn’t be musty,” she continued absently, not looking up, causing Harry to laugh again. But when he didn’t say anything more, she could sense him staring at her and finally paused her note-taking to meet his eyes. “Is there something you need?”
“We’re the only ones here, Hermione,” replied Harry, as he surveyed the empty tables surrounding them. “And it’s no wonder. Especially today, with—”
“Well, there’s still studying to do,” she broke in, quite serious. “We’re missing Herbology this afternoon, so we should make up that time.”
“Missing class? Make up the time? Hermione, it was an optional class meeting that was canceled because of the snow.”
“Still, NEWTs will be here faster than you think, and—”
“All we were going to do was gather mistletoe,” Harry interrupted, his gaze wandering back to the window. “And I don’t even understand why we’d do it now. Christmas was almost two months ago.”
Hermione shook her head, looking through the glass too and wondering what had prompted this discussion from him. “It’s not just for decorating, Harry. We need to harvest the berries specifically for potion ingredients. And it’s easier to gather those before spring, when the trees are bare, allowing you to spot the berries easily.” She sighed, dropping her eyes back to her notes. “I suppose all we’re really missing today is some inappropriate behavior.”
Her mind involuntarily wandered to visions of Ron and Lavender snogging, the main reason she and Harry had been spending so much time alone in the library the past few months rather than in the Gryffindor common room. At first, she had been deeply hurt and confused by Ron’s behavior, but that gradually had given way to annoyance and bitterness. Ron clearly enjoyed pushing the boundaries of decorum at times, which had alienated both Harry and Hermione. The idea of an entire class taking place under trees with hanging clusters of mistletoe seemed to offer too many excuses for more unseemly displays.
“Inappropriate? You mean kissing… under the mistletoe?” Harry smiled. “You’re right. Students being affectionate while gathering berries? We certainly can’t have that.”
Hermione ignored Harry’s playful tone, taking a breath to remain focused. “As I said, the berries are important for potions. Tell me again, Harry, what are the ingredients for Forgetfulness Potion?” She had taken to occasionally prompting him with random questions while they were studying together, quizzing him when he’d get distracted. It was surprisingly effective, and Harry almost never complained as Ron would.
“I forgot.”
“Oh, come on, Harry,” said Hermione impatiently. “It was the final exam our first year from Snape. Surely you—”
“I said… I… forgot.” Harry enunciated the sentence slowly before suddenly grinning broadly at her. “The Forgetfulness Potion.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Very droll,” she said wearily, about to turn back to her reading.
“Lethe River Water, Valerian sprigs, and Standard Ingredient combined with crushed mistletoe berries,” Harry recited rapidly. “Would you like the stirring directions? I think I might be able to recall—”
“That’s quite all right,” said Hermione, finally cracking a slight smile at Harry’s enthusiasm.
“There! There!” exclaimed Harry, gesturing vigorously toward Hermione’s face, causing her to laugh softly. “I knew you were in there!”
Madam Pince, who had been roaming about the shelves near them, turned suddenly and gave Harry a reproving glare, leading him to lower his voice.
“Come on, Hermione,” he whispered, almost pleadingly. “We’ve been cooped up in here so much lately, and I’ve noticed it’s starting to wear on you too. It’s the best day we’ve had in weeks. Let’s get outside for a bit.”
As the winter sunlight beamed more strongly through the glass onto the edge of their table, Hermione considered the idea. She had to admit Harry was right: the deep snow of January had melted weeks ago, but a long period of cold rain followed, making the school grounds muddy and time outdoors fairly miserable. Even Harry had taken to complaining about the weather for Quidditch practices. The past couple days had been a welcome respite, even as the temperature dropped precipitously and the ground froze. A slow lingering snowfall blanketed Hogwarts with a few inches and enveloped them again in the white hush of winter.
And now, Harry’s silly demeanor followed by his unexpected excitement buoyed her spirits a little. Hermione did feel like she could use some time to clear her mind. But then her eyebrows scrunched down as she looked back to Harry. “You were moping around yourself in Transfiguration this morning, and you’ve been a bit distracted most of today. Is everything okay, Harry?”
She caught a brief glimmer of uncertainty passing through Harry’s eyes, before he blinked and gestured toward the snowy landscape visible from the window. “I think… well, we could both use some fresh air. And—if you insist—we can even engage in some studying as we walk. I’m sure you don’t need a textbook to quiz me on Herbology or Potions.”
Hermione turned back a few pages in her reading, evaluating her progress so far that day. She could sense Harry wasn’t being completely forthcoming about his change in attitude, but he clearly wanted this badly. “You know, you could go without me…” she began.
Harry shook his head immediately. “No, I… well, I want you to come.” He paused for a moment before adding, “It’ll be more fun with you.”
Harry thought she would be more fun? Part of Hermione doubted that, but now she was more than a bit intrigued to find out what was going on with him today. She had difficulty ever saying no to Harry anyway, particularly when he flashed those intense green eyes at her so beseechingly.
“Well, all right,” said Hermione, packing up her notes. “I’ll finish up this reading over the weekend.”
But Harry was already out of his seat and hurrying her toward the door. They both heard Madam Pince give an audible sigh of relief as they passed.
Some twenty minutes later, after returning to Gryffindor Tower briefly to don appropriate winter gear, they had exited the great oak doors of the main entrance of Hogwarts. At least a hundred students were already outdoors taking advantage of the day. It seemed to Hermione that there was an unusual energy in the air as they threw snowballs and chased each other about. Some students in the distance were setting up a toboggan run.
“Shall we stay to supervise?” Hermione queried as a snowball whizzed past her to strike a second-year boy square in the face. The powdery snow had barely been held together by some magical charm, as it dissipated immediately while the boy laughed and bent down to prepare another. “I mean, it doesn’t look there are other Prefects about, and—”
“They’re enjoying themselves, Hermione,” said Harry, picking up the pace as they meandered away from the crowd. “Remember, we’re supposed to be having fun too.”
Hermione had an impulse to retort that it actually was a bit fun for her to engage in her Prefect role sometimes, yet she remained silent. The crisp air was surprisingly invigorating to her, and Harry’s mood became even brighter when they were left alone again, striding through the untrammeled snow. He seemed to have a destination in mind, which made her even more curious, as they descended a slope briskly and made their way toward the ancient tree with its menacing slashing branches.
Having arrived at the Whomping Willow, Harry led Hermione around it in a circle, maintaining a safe distance while the tree’s branches rustled, heedless of the occasional breeze. Harry kept up an uneven banter about recent Quidditch practices as they walked, but she could tell he was distracted. He gradually became more quiet, his energy slowly leaving him as his eyes kept scanning back and forth around the tree. Hermione simply followed along, eyeing Harry carefully, assuming he’d reveal his true aim when he was ready. But when they had completely circumnavigated the tree and began encountering their previous tracks, she finally broke her silence.
“We’re literally walking in circles, Harry. What’s going on?”
“Whomping Willows are on the Herbology syllabus for this term, aren’t they?” said Harry unconvincingly. “We can engage in some practical—”
“Just tell me, Harry.” Hermione had come to a halt, standing in the snow as Harry appeared to flounder.
He let out a great sigh as he looked down, shaking his head. “I just can’t sort out how he’s doing it.”
“Who? Doing what?”
“Malfoy.”
Hermione’s mouth dropped open slightly. “What does he have to do with—”
“He’s been disappearing from the Map, Hermione. With the security at Hogwarts this year, I can’t sort out where he is sometimes. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen for a while last night, and I thought—”
“… That he was sneaking off to Hogsmeade. Perhaps with another charmed necklace,” said Hermione, completing Harry’s thought with a hint of irritation. She glanced again at the Willow, its branches whipping about the hidden entrance to the tunnel they both knew was there. “That’s why you brought me out here, distracting me from studying? To chase down Draco Malfoy?”
“No, that’s not…” Harry stammered, looking uncomfortable. “And besides, he’s in the castle now. I checked before we left.”
Suddenly the pieces came together for Hermione. The parchment Harry had folded as he sat next to the window must have been the Marauder’s Map. And the recent snowfall might allow them to see any tracks if someone had been there. Yet there was no evidence of any activity.
From Hermione’s perspective, Harry’s obsession with Malfoy was getting out of hand. But if Draco Malfoy truly was disappearing from the Hogwarts grounds, Hermione had to admit that sounded quite suspicious. She tamped down her mild annoyance at the unnecessary mystery around all of this and asked, “Why didn’t you just tell me, Harry?”
Harry was looking off at the tree. “Well, you haven’t exactly been enthusiastic about pursuing my concerns. Not to mention how you’ve been irritated with me over what happened in Potions….”
Hermione realized he must have been referencing their lesson on antidotes, when Harry had the temerity to produce a bezoar rather than doing anything productive with his time, only to be praised excessively by Slughorn yet again. She had admittedly been perturbed at Slughorn’s apparent obliviousness to Harry’s lack of effort. But that was last month. “Harry, that’s not—”
“You haven’t even smiled at me in weeks.”
Hermione was taken aback slightly by Harry’s observation. Harry was her best friend, but he could be quite oblivious at times. She had no idea her mood was monitored so carefully by him, let alone a cause of concern. And she had felt a bit aimless lately. Still, his assumptions weren’t entirely correct—Hermione’s attitude had been a function of anxiety, concern, and still not knowing quite how to navigate her friendship with Harry when Ron wasn’t at all part of it.
She had been so relieved at first that Harry sought her out in the library after Ron had humiliated her with Lavender a few months ago, rather than leaving her to relive the isolation of her third year. She knew Harry cared, and she appreciated that he was taking so much time alone with her. But Hermione was a creature of habit, and she was frankly used to a rhythm where Harry would periodically get distracted along with Ron, or go off to practice Quidditch, while she took that time alone to study. With the increasing workload of NEWT-level study—Hermione was enrolled in two more courses than anyone else in their year—and Harry’s frequent presence in the library most evenings, her focus had been uneven.
In the end, Harry’s earlier diagnosis was probably most correct: she needed a break. Some fresh air and something different to think about. As much as the library felt like her home, she missed the periodic adventures with Harry. Part of her perhaps even missed having Ron along too, though she certainly wouldn’t admit that to herself.
Recovering from her moment of self-reflection, Hermione tentatively placed her hand on Harry’s shoulder, causing his face to turn to hers. “I think we both haven’t been ourselves lately at times. Perhaps you should just tell me what’s going on and what you’ve been worried about. You know I’ll always listen, Harry.”
Harry took a couple minutes explaining Malfoy’s mysterious behavior—how Crabbe and Goyle were wandering aimlessly at times without him on the Map, how Malfoy’s name would be there one minute, and when Harry would check again, he’d be gone.
“I haven’t seen his dot on the Map close to any of the entrances to tunnels within the castle,” Harry concluded, “so I thought maybe he knew about this one somehow?”
Hermione had begun walking about as Harry talked, carefully scanning the ground with both her eyes and wand. “So why did you want me to come with you? I’m sure Ron would be more enthusiastic about a chance to play in the snow.”
Harry couldn’t help chuckling at Hermione’s characterization of their investigation. “Ron certainly doesn’t have your spell repertory to look for traces of magic. And he doesn’t really believe me either; he’s convinced Malfoy would never be given any significant responsibility for anything, even by Death Eaters. Besides, he’s… well, busy.”
Hermione ignored Harry’s awkward pause, keeping her eyes concentrated on the snow. “Of course he is.”
“Hermione, almost everyone is. That’s why I thought today would be perfect. Everyone is distracted today.”
“Why? Because it’s Friday, and a couple classes were canceled?”
“No, not because it’s Friday. Because today is—”
As if on cue, a huge burst of shouting erupted in the distance, causing them both to glance up the hill. A group of boys had obviously won some sort of snowball battle and were now jumping up and down erratically while celebrating. Some girls who apparently had been watching on the sidelines entered the fray of chest-bumping boys to give a few hugs and kisses to the victors.
Hermione groaned softly, returning to her focus on the ground, muttering, “Add in a few inches of new snow, and suddenly it’s Lord of the Flies.”
Harry let out a laugh again at her words. “You’ve become cynical. Since the Ron thing.”
“There was never a ‘Ron thing',” said Hermione testily, but Harry had already pulled the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket and was surveying it. For some reason, she felt deflated now and just wanted to head back to the library. All she had observed around the Willow was some evidence of a couple small animals scampering about. “And you don’t even need me here. This is pointless.”
Harry began folding the Map again as he looked at her in concern. “It wasn’t pointless—we ruled out another possibility of what Malfoy’s been doing.” He stepped a bit closer to her, facing her with a serious look. “And I don’t just need you here, Hermione. I want to get some fresh air with you, to get away from all of… that.” He gestured toward the group of students, many of whom had devolved again into snowball throwing. Meanwhile, a few students off in another direction seemed to be preparing a hoard of hovering snowballs, maneuvering them with their wands and preparing to drop them on the unsuspecting crowd. Harry shook his head, adding, “Don’t you remember the last time Ron was being an arse?”
“You mean earlier this week?” quipped Hermione.
“No, during the Tournament a couple years ago. You took me out, away from everything, so we could think clearly.” He took a breath as he reminisced. “It seemed like we were walking around the lake together every day, talking about new discoveries and strategies.”
As Harry gazed at her with obvious affection, Hermione had to admit that she had fond memories of that time too. Yes, she was so worried and anxious at times about preparing him for the Tournament in their fourth year, but the time alone with Harry made her feel so much closer to him. It had all begun that one morning she showed up with a stack of toast for him, when she just felt it would be easier to talk freely while walking outside. Over the next few weeks, she then saw how Harry responded to her, how he became more studious and focused, but also how he seemed to appreciate her more. For a brief time, she wondered whether it was the harbinger of some deeper affection brewing within him toward her, yet she dismissed that as it became increasingly more obvious that he was infatuated with Cho Chang. Part of Hermione was almost embarrassed that she could have been taken in by the nonsense and rumors of Rita Skeeter.
The past few months had similarly brought her closer to Harry, but he had a point—there was something missing. Something she realized came to them only at odd times when they had a moment to relax together, like the evening right after winter break they spent talking alone deep into the night in the common room before classes began again. Normally, they’d naturally have some time during trips to Hogsmeade to decompress, but those had been canceled this year.
“You’re right, Harry,” she admitted. “We should make more time to—”
“What about now?” Harry interrupted, just as some shrieking third-year students missed a turn in the slope and came gliding down near them, upsetting their toboggan a couple dozen yards away. But Harry ignored them, glancing into the distance in the direction of the lake.
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s do it,” Harry said determinedly. When Hermione still appeared confused, he clarified, “Let’s walk around the lake, like we used to.”
Hermione bit her lip, looking off along with Harry over the snow-covered grounds. “I don’t know. It’s cold and snowy… and you know students haven’t been allowed to go around as freely this year due to the security issues. Not to mention what happened with Katie.” As much as she wanted to spend more time with Harry, his spontaneous proposal felt a bit random and impulsive. “And you clearly have Draco Malfoy on your mind….”
“We’ll just stick the lake, which is under the Hogwarts protective enchantments. And besides, I already said I wanted to take a walk and have some fun. I really did mean that.” Harry turned back to her and clearly didn’t want to take no for an answer. “Originally, I thought if we found something intriguing to investigate, you’d enjoy that. But… maybe it’s time for both of us to take a few hours away from everyone. I promise I won’t bring up Malfoy at all.”
“Harry, I know you’ve been obsessing about him. It’s okay if—”
“Trust me. Malfoy’s not going anywhere for a while today,” Harry chuckled, his certainty a bit cryptic. “I’ll leave him to the side if… well, you promise not to talk about Potions and the Prince too.”
He was grinning at her again, his enthusiasm infectious. There was something distinctly appealing to her about the way he wanted to just get away from everything for a while. She just wasn’t used to Harry turning to her for entertainment and fun.
“Just… walk with me?” Those impassioned green eyes were there again, coupled with a pleading expression and that messy mop of dark windswept curls. Even from a friend, such a look made her heartbeat quicken. And any other girl at Hogwarts would have given her right arm to get an invitation like this from Harry Potter.
Hermione nodded tentatively, returning his smile.
That seemed to give him even more energy. “Come on, then!” he shouted, motioning with his hand and setting off into deeper snow.