Harry Potter One Shots

Snow Angels

"Hey. Hey," he murmured, brushing her cheek with his knuckle. "It's ok, Hermione. It's ok."

Hermione gave a shuddering breath and nodded, leaning forward to bury her face in his shoulder, and he brought his arms up to encircle her slight body, holding her close.

They were silent for a few moments, standing there in the snow, the graveyard behind them, holding one another, until she looked up at him, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh Ron! I don't- I can't," she was crying so hard now she could barely speak and he sat down, pulling her into his lap, and she leant back against him. "A-all those people, back in the war and-and now my mum I-"

She shifted in his lap so her legs were straddling his waist, and she pressed her forehead to his, wrapping her arms around his neck, the tears spilling from her soft brown eyes trickling down the jumper - the Weasley jumper - he was wearing, and dripping onto the snow. They were both shivering now, and as her tears stopped, the snow started falling, and they turned their heads up in wonder, pure white flakes falling onto their faces, like icing sugar dusting their skin that was tinged pink with the cold.

"Snow," Hermione breathed, wiping her eyes as she stared up at the clouds above them.

Ron laughed.

"It's not as if you haven't seen it before," he said, his eyes on her rather than the sky. "We live in England, after all."

"I know. But it'll always be beautiful to me."

"You know what'll always be beautiful to me"

She tore her gaze from the heavens to smile at him.

"What, Ron?"

"You, Hermione. You are so beautiful. Inside and out."

Still smiling, tears long gone, she tilted her head up, and for a moment he thought she was going to stare at the sky again, but then she was kissing him, lips freezing cold against his, and he had one hand in her long, bushy mane of hair and the other was cupping her frozen face. As she kissed him harder, he fell back in the snow, taking her with him, and she pulled back, breathless, to look down at him.

"We should make snow angels!" She said.

"A what now?" He replied, bringing one hand up to stroke a curl behind her ear.

"A snow angel," she said patiently, though she looked as if she was trying hard not to roll her eyes. "You lie in the snow, like this," she rolled off him and lay spread eagled on the powdery white carpet. Without her warm body pressed to his, he shivered. "And move your arms like this. Then, there's an angel left in the snow; a snow angel."

She jumped up and reached down for his hand, pulling him up to stand beside her, and together they gazed down at the imprint her body had made.

"I don't need to make one of those, I already have all the angels I need right here," Ron said, sliding an arm around her shoulders, before taking her in both his arms as she snuggled closer to him.

When she looked up, tear tracks glistened on her cheeks again and he bent down to brush his lips ever so softly against hers.

"It's ok, Hermione. It'll be ok. I'm here."