Disclaimer: Harry Potter-not mine. JK created Harry Potter, I created this story.
Rating: G
Summary: "Harry, it's cold out here." Her voice breaks through his muddled thoughts. This story came to be when… I'm bored out of my mind. So don't expect any decent plot here. LOL. Just read it! ;)
AN: Props to my beta, ElodieTriste, for this story and "Cake and Milk". I forgot to mention her there. Sorry!
AN2: Hermione might seem OOC but let the situation explain itself. Also, Hermione is the only one speaking during the first part of the story. Harry has more or less five lines and the rest are Hermione's. You know how verbose our Hermione could be. This happened during their stay at Grimmauld Place. I'll leave it to you, guys, which stay at Grimmauld Place.
"Harry, it's cold out here." Her voice breaks through his muddled thoughts.
He does not respond. He does not want to, he does not need to.
She can see the defensive stance in the way he handles his body. War changes everyone.
Their view on Grimmauld's Place rooftop is panoramic - the lights coming from everywhere as dots and streams pouring from windows, doors, cars, street lamps, and the occasional street vendors in Muggle London.
Breathtakingly beautiful.
She tenses up when he looks up into the black abyss that is the sky.
There are no stars, she notices. There is the moon and the gentle snow that is falling around them.
"Ron… Ron told me you waited." It's cold out here. Why didn't I bring a pair of gloves? Or mittens? Or hot chocolate?
Her hands are shaking from the sheer cold. She holds it in a fist then releases it, repeating the habit several times.
She breathes out and the air around her mouth swirls.
"I didn't come… and I'm sorry."
Silence.
Damn it, Granger!
"I'm sorry," she repeats, a little louder.
Still no reaction.
She heaves a great sigh. "I got scared. I… I should've met you, but I got scared."
"You said that you have feelings for - for me. And I thought… well I think you're confusing it for just a passing fancy."
"I didn't think you were lying. No, you never lie to me. I - I just thought that you're confused and…" Her hands are shaking, again from the cold and… something else. Dread?
"I thought that if… if I didn't show up, you'd forget about it."
She gives a shaky smile. "I was wrong."
"You see I-", she takes one tiny step towards him, "-I didn't allow myself to entertain the thought. I didn't allow myself to hope."
"I didn't want you to get hurt… I didn't want to get hurt. Again." She adds the last part in an audible whisper.
"And it was selfish of me."
She looks down at her cold hands. "I'm really sorry, Harry."
A shaky breath.
"I wish I'd come."
A long moment of silence.
She stares at her boots while snow tangles in her hair.
Feeling that no response is going to come from him anytime soon, she turns around and starts walking back to the door.
She can feel the tears prickling at her eyes. She bit her lip and tries to stop herself from crying. Granger, you're stronger than this.
"Do you love me?" he asks, loud enough for her to hear.
She stops dead at her tracks.
Slowly, she turns until she is facing him again.
His position never changes - his back to her.
"Yes," a sure nod from her, "Yes, I do."
"Why?" His tone is painfully accusing.
She sucks in a breath.
"Because - because you're… you're Harry. You're you. And - and because I love you," she said her voice breaking. Sanity? Gone. Pride? Gone. Eloquence? Gone.
She quietly clears her throat, holds the tears at bay and fidgets more with her cold fingers. "I'm sorry if - if that's…not good enough for - for at least your forgiveness."
Nothing.
She turns around and continues her delayed walk towards the door, this time fighting the urge to sprint the remaining distance to the door.
"I love you, too," he says as he turns around and stares at her retreating back.
Her face crumples with emotion but still no tears leaked from her eyes. Harry? Not gone, still there.
She slowly whirls to face him as he comes closer to her.
She keeps her eyes locked on her boots, afraid that if she looks at him, she will surely drown.
"I love you, too," he repeated once more when he was inches from her shaking form.
She sucks in a breath, raises her head and looks into his eyes. Green to brown.
"You're crying," he states and gently touches her cheek before letting his hand drop.
"Wh- no. No." She shook her head and blinks back the tears that threaten to spill.
He looks at her flushed face skeptically.
"It's just the cold." She swallowed.
He stares at her face, memorizing each plane, each curve, each feature.
He takes her wrist and holds it in front of her. "Your hand is cold."
She looks at her shaking icy hand. "Yeah, I didn't realize that it was… snowing."
She smiles feebly.
He takes both of her hands and thrusts them into his jacket pockets.
She flushes, suddenly becoming interested in his jacket's buttons.
They probably look silly standing there on the rooftop, with her hands in his pockets and snow gently falling around them.
She doesn't have time to ponder about it, though. Because, he leans forward, cups his hands at her neck and kisses her. Really kisses her.
Warmth shoots through her body.
And her hands aren't cold anymore.
~*~
AN: I was planning to post it on December as a piece for the winter season but I decided to just write a better fanfic for December. Anyway if you, reader, would be so kind, please complete this thought: "Your story is…" and/or "You are…"
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