A Winter Scene by akscully

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 22/08/2003
Last Updated: 30/08/2003
Status: Completed

A challenge from an old FAP thread. Harry and Hermione, a snowball fight, a snow person, a snow
creature, fuzzy slippers, a thick rug in front of a fireplace, hot cocoa mix and snogging. And from
me, fluff, fluff, fluff.




1. In Love and War
------------------

“You’re a dead woman, Hermione!”

This bellow came from a certain redheaded male who, although looking quite fierce at the moment,
realized that the effect was somewhat ruined by the snow in his hair, down his neck, and most
irritatingly, down his trousers. Hermione running (more like slogging through the snow, really)
away from him, cackling all the while like a madwoman, did nothing to improve his disposition.

“She got it down your trousers?” Harry asked interestedly. “I wonder how she managed that. She
threw that snowball at the back of your head.”

“Does it matter?” Ron growled. “I’ve got snow around my bits and someone’s going to pay.
Hermione’s going to pay.” He grinned and bent down to scoop up some snow. “One Weasley Special
coming up.” He took out his wand and muttered something under his breath.

Harry was a bit worried. Given Ron’s relations, a ‘Weasley Special’ could range from merely
humorous to truly irritating. Harry didn’t want Hermione irritated. She was scary when that
happened.

“Hey, Hermione! You may want to watch out for Ron!” Harry called to her. She was currently
standing some distance away from them, a smile on her face. “Ron’s got something—“

WHOOOSH!

Something flew past Harry’s face. He snapped his head around to track it, but the object had
already found its target.

Well. Ron seemed to have quite the arm. Perhaps he should try out for a Chaser position on the
Quidditch team.

Hermione was standing right where she was before, only with snow dripping down her face. Er, and
the pink hair. And yellow spots on her skin. And the *supremely* irritated look on her face.
Harry winced. This was going to get worse before it got better.

“Harry,” she said calmly, “is my hair a different color?”

Harry nodded.

“Harry,” she said calmly, “is my skin a different color?”

Harry nodded.

“Harry,” she said calmly, “I know you’re friends with Ron, but I need your help on something.
Can I count on your help, Harry?”

Harry looked over at Ron, then shrugged helplessly at him. He looked back at Hermione. He
nodded.

“You little traitor!” Ron hissed, looking a little scared.

“Ron, she’s pink and yellow!” Harry started, but got no further as a giant ball of snow hit Ron
in the face. He turned back to Hermione, only to see a mass of snowballs coming at him. He quickly
dove out of the way, but some of the damned things followed him. “Hermione! I was going to help
you!” he yelled as he ducked and weaved away from the snowballs. Ron, distracted from the first
snowball, was simply being pelted on all sides.

“All’s fair in love and war, Harry!” Hermione yelled back, grinning.

Harry shot her a dirty look, then smiled. Why should she be the only one to enchant snowballs?
He fumbled for his wand and desperately tried to remember the spell. Ron had found the book in the
library, and Hermione had scolded him for not studying properly then Ron had found that spell…With
a triumphant yell, Harry shouted the spell and pointed his wand at Hermione. She screeched and
started to run (slog!) through the snow, trying to avoid the flying snowballs.

Of course, by this time, Ron had been hit by all his share of the snowballs and was looking for
revenge against both his friends. Unlike Harry, he remembered the spell right off, and in his
vengeful state, sent an insane amount of snowballs toward both of them. “See how you deal with
this, you bloody turncoats!”

Harry’s eyes widened at this newest salvo. Hermione, in between ducking Harry’s barrage, looked
horrified. She had good reason to be. The sheer number of snowballs coming toward them was
frightening. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. He ran (slogged!) toward Hermione, who seemed to have the
same idea and was already moving toward him. “Hermione! Get over here!” he shouted.

They made their way toward each other as fast as they could. Hermione had her wand out and had
just finished a spell when Harry tackled her. “Oof!” she wheezed, as she fell down with Harry on
top of her, and not a moment too soon. The snowballs pelted them, and Harry attempted to cover the
two of them with his cloak.

“What did you do?” he asked, his lips by her ear.

“Warming Charm,” she gasped. “We’ll get wet, but we won’t freeze.”

Harry chuckled as he brought his head up and gazed at her. Ron’s charm must have been faulty.
The yellow spots were already gone and the pink hair was rapidly fading to her normal chestnut
brown. “Always thinking.”

She gazed at him archly as the snow continued to pile up on and around them. They could hear Ron
laughing. “You expected something else?”

Harry smiled happily at her, noting her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “Of course not. You
always know the right thing to do. Must be all that reading.” She really was pretty, wasn’t
she?

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Charming, as always, Harry.” She shifted slightly. “I wish I had done
a protection charm. At least I would be dry then.” She shifted again trying to get comfortable.

“But then you would be cold,” Harry pointed out. He stifled a groan when she shifted for the
third time. Having her wiggle beneath him was…disconcerting. But oh so fun in a
when-did-she-become-a-girl sort of way. Now Harry shifted on top of her. Stupid hormones.

Hermione shrugged. “Well, with you on top of me, I’m warm enough.” She blushed slightly, as if
just noticing their positions and forced a small laugh. “Harry Potter, the human furnace.”

Harry gave her a wan smile as the current state of affairs fully dawned on him. Attractive,
laughing girl beneath him. Happens to be Hermione, his best friend. Surrounded by snow. Wet, but
warm. Hermione beneath him and wiggling again. When had Hermione gotten so blasted attractive? If
he just ducked his head a bit, he could kiss her.

Harry scrambled up suddenly. “Uh, I think Ron’s attack has stopped,” he mumbled and held out a
hand for her. Ron was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione blinked. “Oh, alright,” she said, a bit confused by his sudden departure. She took his
hand and hoisted herself up. “Thanks,” she said a bit breathlessly.

Harry flashed her a quick smile. “Shall we go look for Ron, then?” She nodded and they tramped
off through the snow together.

But he didn’t let go of her hand.



2. The Amazing Androgynous Snowperson
-------------------------------------

They rounded a corner of the castle and saw Ron busily engaged with building a snowman with Dean
and Seamus. As they drew closer, they saw that it wasn’t really a snowman. The boys were attempting
to build a snowwoman, but even with the snowbreasts, the figure looked rather androgynous.

“It’s more of a snowperson, isn’t it?” Hermione murmured.

Harry laughed. “I was just thinking that.” His gaze slid over to her. He just looked at her face
for a moment before looking down at their joined hands. Hmmm, strange that he hadn’t let go of her
hand yet. Strange that *she* hadn’t let go of his hand yet. Strange, but nice. Very nice. He
glanced back up to her face to see her looking at him with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s comfortable,
isn’t it?” she said softly. “Like they fit together.”

Once again, he just nodded. Holding hands with her was becoming more and more natural by the
second. Harry wondered why he hadn’t thought of this before.

“Oi, Harry! Come help me with this!” Ron called out. Harry snapped his gaze away from Hermione
over to Ron. Ron was looking at him with an appraising expression on his face. “We need some help
and Hermione will probably just criticize us on our work of art.”

“Ah, that explains it. It’s ‘art’. I should have known,” Hermione whispered.

Harry chuckled. “I suppose I should go help them,” he said, oddly reluctant to let go of her
hand. He felt like taking her off to some secluded spot and…he mentally shook himself. What the
bloody hell was wrong with him? A few snowballs and wiggles on the ground and all of the sudden he
was having these goofy feelings about Hermione. He quickly let go of her hand and jerked his head
in the direction of Ron. “I’m going to go help them.”

Hermione looked a little surprised at his sudden dismissal but nodded her head. “Alright. I’ll
stay here making my own snowcreature.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Snowcreature?”

She just smiled sweetly at him. “Go help Ron and the Amazing Androgynous Snowperson.”

Harry shook his head and moved off to assist the boys in their efforts to make…whatever it was
they were trying to make. Harry asked them what they were trying to make and they all claimed it
was a snowwoman, but clearly the boys had either no idea what the female body looked like (not that
Harry was exactly an expert on the form, of course) or could not pack and carve snow to save their
lives. It didn’t help that every five minutes or so, the boys would suddenly decide that it was
time to smash snow into each others faces. All in all, it was a very haphazard operation at best,
so they really shouldn’t have been surprised when they looked over at Hermione’s work and saw
nothing short of a masterpiece.

Hermione was frowning in concentration as she held up her wand and delicately etched some lines
into the sculpture she was working on. It was a magnificent lion, nearly as tall as Hermione
herself. Harry suddenly felt very inadequate standing next to the Asexual Wonder, as the he had
taken to calling it.

“Well, don’t we look stupid?” Seamus muttered. “Hey, Hermione! You’re making us look bad!” he
yelled.

Hermione hardly spared them a glance as she continued to work on the lion, but Harry saw the
faintest of smiles appear on her face. “Perhaps you should try applying yourselves to the task at
hand,” she called back.

“Applying ourselves?” Ron asked in mock outrage. He quickly pulled out his wand. “I’ll show her
‘applying ourselves’.” Harry moved away nervously. He looked over at Hermione, calculating how
quickly he could get to her before Ron finished his spell. Ron began to mumble something
unintelligible and made vague motions with his wand toward the lion. Harry began to run toward
Hermione as the lion abruptly yawned and Hermione stepped back in surprise. Dean and Seamus began
to laugh. Oh, this was just *lovely*. Harry reached Hermione just as the lion turned its head
to sniff at them curiously. He grabbed her hand and hauled her toward the school. “We need to get
out of here.”

“Harry! Let go of me! Who knows what that lion is going to do?”

“Ron can deal with it,” Harry replied tersely. He heard the lion roar behind them and then three
distinct yells of terror. He looked back. The lion had decided to chase after Ron, Dean and Seamus
and they were currently running for their lives. Hermione started to laugh. He allowed himself a
small smile. Harry had to admit, it really was a funny sight to see three boys running from a snow
lion.

“I wonder if they’ll figure out how to get rid of it?” Hermione mused from beside him.

Harry grinned down at her. “Well, hopefully they’ll remember that snow melts. If not,” he
shrugged, “how much damage could it do?”

Hermione looked at him seriously. “That lion was very realistic. Except for the size of course.
It could do some damage.”

“Hermione, it’s *snow*,” Harry said exasperatedly. “It’s not going to hurt them.”

“You didn’t seem so sure when you dragged me away,” Hermione replied impishly. “In fact, you
seem downright *terrified*.”

“I was *not* terrified,” Harry growled. He hadn’t been, honestly! Just…concerned. Concerned
for her safety. Yes, that was all. And that could hardly be wrong, could it? He was simply anxious
for her safety. Right. He just had keep telling himself that. He nodded slightly and looked at
Hermione. She was gazing at him with a mischievous glint in her eye. Well. That glint
was…perplexing yet a little exciting at the same time. Indeed. Hmph. “You have caused enough
trouble today, young lady,” Harry said, waving a finger under her nose. “I’m taking you back inside
before something else happens.” With that, he dragged her into the castle, back toward the common
room, completely aware of one fact.

He *still* hadn’t let go of her hand.



3. Elves and Cocoa Mix
----------------------

They tramped through the hallways of the school, dripping snow as they went. Oh, Filch would
just *love* this. Harry tightened his hold on Hermione’s hand and quickened his pace. “C’mon.
We’ve got to get back before Filch sees us.”

Hermione looked amused. “Because he won’t be able to follow the footprints back to Gryffindor
Tower and take points off.”

Harry stopped. “Oh, bloody hell.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to come up with another
option. “Let’s go to the kitchen. We can dry off a bit and nip some food while we’re at it.”

Hermione seemed doubtful. “I can just dry our robes right now, you know. We don’t have to give
the elves more work.”

“We won’t give the elves more work,” Harry insisted. A detour to the kitchen meant more time
with Hermione, and that appeared to be a very appealing prospect indeed. “We’ll just stand in front
of the fire and I’m sure they’ve already made some food. Dobby will be happy to give us some of the
extras. He is our friend after all.”

Hermione’s eyes softened. “Harry, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad to hear that you think of Dobby
as a friend.” She moved and enveloped him in a warm hug.

Well, Harry certainly hadn’t been expecting this, but he wasn’t going to argue. He wondered what
Hermione would do if he told her all the elves were his friends. Or that he viewed Dobby as the
short, masochistic, bald brother he never had. He filed these possibilities away for later use.

He carefully disentangled himself from Hermione and smiled down at her. “I should have known
that a mention of the house elves would make you go all soft,” he teased.

Hermione blushed slightly and looked away. “Come on, then, we need to get to the kitchen.”

They made their way down to the kitchen and laughed at what Filch would think, seeing two pairs
of footprints suddenly disappear in front of the rather ordinary (for Hogwarts) painting. Dobby
greeted them with his usual enthusiasm and quickly set about gathering extra food for the two of
them when he heard their request. They moved over to the fire and Harry watched as Hermione chatted
with the other elves, subtly and not-so-subtly reminding them of their rights. He shook his head
and grinned as Dobby came back to them.

“Dobby is very sorry, sir, but Dobby cannot make too much food for Harry Potter and his…” Dobby
looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, unsure of himself, “*friend*. Dobby hopes
you will accept this and not be too angry with Dobby.” He then produced an extremely large basket
overflowing with food. Harry bit back a laugh and thanked him for his hard work. He motioned to
Hermione and they set off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.

“That’s a little food?” Hermione asked incredulously.

Harry looked through the basket as they walked. “Well, it’s really not as much as you would
think. I mean, there’s an awful lot of—hang on, is this cocoa mix?” he asked as he pulled the
packet out. “Dobby gave us cocoa mix?”

Hermione plucked the packet from his hands and looked at with interest. “Maybe the house elves
are trying to cut down on some work. Good for them! This tastes just as good as real hot chocolate.
No need for them to do all that extra work.”

Harry raised an eyebrow as they went through the portrait hole. “Tastes just as good as the real
thing? I’ll have to disagree with you there.”

“Really? Well, why don’t we find out?” Hermione challenged. “It’s late and no one’s here right
now. I’m going up to get something to boil the water in.”

“You’ve a teapot lying around?”

Hermione looked at him with a slightly outraged look on her face. “To quote Ron, am I witch or
not? I can transfigure objects, you know.”

Harry grinned at her. “Sorry, sorry. But why do you have to go to your room? Surely a witch of
your *exceptional* abilities can transfigure any old object.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Because sitting about in wet clothes is not my idea of comfortable. I
like dry clothes so I’m going to go change.” She frowned, walked over to him and ran a hand down
his robes. “I suggest you do the same. I’d hate to see you catch a cold.”

Harry inspected his clothes, but as usual, Hermione was right. The kitchen fire hadn’t really
dried his clothes all that much. He nodded and shoved the basket underneath a table. “I’ll meet you
back down here.” He caught her hand and was surprised to feel how cold it was. He began rubbing it
between his two hands and then brought it up near his mouth and huffed to warm it. “Wear something
warm,” he murmured, his lips just brushing the tips of her fingers. Hmmm. What an exceptionally
wonderful feeling. Harry flushed as he realized that he was still brushing his lips over her
fingers and stopped immediately. Hermione looked at him, surprised, then blushed and nodded her
head. She gave him a searching look, then drew away from him and silently ran up the stairs.

Harry resolved to never again wiggle with Hermione beneath him. Clearly, it had caused him to go
mad.



4. The Duty of Heroes
---------------------

**Author’s Note:** And so we come to the end. Thank you everyone for reviewing this fic.
Sorry Joyce for taking so darn long to complete the challenge. Hope you enjoy the chapter!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry came back down the stairs after changing into some dry, comfortable clothes. Hermione was
not down yet, so he sat down and contented himself with stirring up the fire in the common room. He
heard a soft padding behind him and turned to see Hermione coming around the couch, teapot and cups
in hand. His lips twitched when he saw her footwear.

“Bear claw slippers, Hermione? I never would have thought it,” he said amusedly.

Hermione blushed but said firmly, “First off, they’re lion claws and secondly, they’re a gift
from my parents. They knew my feet get cold sometimes, especially in a castle with stone floors and
they very kindly bought these for me after third year. And besides, I think they’re cute.”

Harry surveyed them and flashed her a grin. “They are.” He patted the space on the fluffy rug
beside him. “Sit down and set up the teapot. I’ve got the hot chocolate packets and the rest of the
food.” He pulled the food out of the basket and set it up as Hermione muttered a spell over the
teapot, poured the now hot water into both cups, and mixed the packets into the water. Harry had
just finished setting out the food when Hermione handed him a cup.

“Cheers,” she offered with a smile and they clinked glasses. They both raised the cups to their
lips and took a sip.

And tried not to choke.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful!” Harry wheezed. “Are you sure that’s hot chocolate?”

Hermione squinted at the packets, trying to see through the tears in her eyes. “Yes, it’s hot
chocolate…good heavens, I think this packet expired in 1957!”

Harry snatched up his packet. “They had powdered hot chocolate back then? For the sake of my
stomach, I wish they hadn’t.”

Hermione looked glum. “Well, I suppose this answers the question if powdered hot chocolate is as
good as real hot chocolate.”

She looked so put out at the combination of being wrong and the possible workload hot chocolate
orders would put on the elves, Harry felt compelled to say something. He slid a hand up and down
her back and smiled encouragingly at her. “Now, you know this wasn’t a suitable test. I mean, using
hot chocolate packets from 40 years ago is hardly fair, is it? Listen, why don’t we run to
Hogsmeade tomorrow and buy some packets from Honeydukes, as they have to have something like that
there, and then we’ll go to the Three Broomsticks and compare it to the hot chocolate there. It’ll
be fun *and* educational!”

Hermione looked at him and smiled. “Harry, are you asking me out on date? To compare hot
chocolate recipes?”

Harry was a bit taken aback. Asking her out? Of course he wasn’t. He was just going to take her
for a quick trip to a local town, buy her a drink and try to cheer her up. That wasn’t a
*date*. It was just…a date. Sort of. “Well, I guess I am,” he said sheepishly, looking at her
nervously. “I mean, Ron can come too and we can make a whole day of it if--”

Hermione put a finger over his lips. “Thank you, Harry, I’d love to go.”

Harry’s eyes widened behind his glasses and his mouth formed an “O” in surprise. She agreed? She
wanted to go with him? On a date?

Hermione smiled at him. “I think we would have a lovely time.”

Harry just nodded silently as her finger was still over his mouth. He grabbed her wrist and
pulled her hand down. “Uh, great. We will. Have a nice time, I mean. Yes. We can go to Flourish and
Blott’s if you like in Diagon Alley. We can look at books. Or Madam Puddifoot’s in Hogsmeade.
Scrivenshaft’s has some very nice quills I’m told. Honeyduke’s is always an option, although we
might get sick and you don’t like it that much so I suppose we shouldn’t go there. The Hog’s Head
is out I suppose since it’s not the best place for a--”

Then he stopped talking because he realized something very important had just taken place. He
physically could not speak. Hermione’s lips were covering his. That was the very important
part.

Never let it be said that Harry was a dull boy.

Just as he figured out to lean into her kiss, Hermione pulled back and gazed at him with a smile
on her face. Harry regarded her with some surprise.

“You kissed me,” he said accusatorily.

“Yes, I did,” she laughed. “I’d never thought I’d say this, but you talk to much, Harry. You
very sweetly asked me for a date and then you wouldn’t stop talking about it. It seemed a good as
way as any to quiet you. Besides, I’ve wanted to do that since this afternoon.”

Harry looked suspiciously at her. “This afternoon? With the snowballs? Why didn’t you,
then?”

Hermione rolled her eyes and launched into an explanation. “Because I thought you were going to
do it, you git. You certainly looked like you were going to, but then you got up and we went over
to Ron, and nothing was going to happen there, I knew that, so I went about my business and then
you got hit with your playing the hero bit and I thought, right, this might be a good time for
that, and you *still* didn’t and then we went down to the kitchens and I said to myself that
it was really very silly to wait for you to make the first move as I was decidedly capable of doing
such a thing and why did I have to conform to some antiquated notions of the men doing the chasing
as I am a perfectly healthy and normal female and if we both wanted to, and I knew you did, why
shouldn’t I--”

Then Hermione stopped talking and she realized something very important had taken place. And
Hermione had never been accused of being dull in her entire life, so she responded admirably to the
situation and kissed Harry right back.

Harry pulled back slightly and leaned his forehead against hers. “I kissed you,” he said,
smiling.

She grinned back. “You certainly did.”

“I’m going to do it again. I’m a hero, you know. Heroes get to do that sort of thing. We have to
do it, actually. Very important. Take away the hero badge if you don’t kiss beautiful girls that
are clever enough to outsmart professors and High Inquisitors and Death Eaters and heroes who talk
too much.”

“Good heavens, I’d hate to have that on my head,” Hermione murmured. “You’d better kiss me right
away then.”

So he did. And they were both immensely clever at it and not dull at all.