Love Is

And the Wind Blew

It was snowing.

Hermione had always loved the snow. When she was younger, she used to play outside for hours, building snowmen or snow forts. She used to have snowball fights with the other neighborhood children, scooping and shaping the clean white snow into perfect spheres and using them to pummel her friends.

Hermione's team always won, because Hermione never missed.

She'd come in hours later, cheeks red from the cold, heart pounding from excitement. She'd take off her coat, hat, and mittens and step out of her boots. She'd chatter on and on about the perfect snowman in the front lawn, or how funny her friends were and what fun they'd had. Her mother would always place a mug of hot cocoa in front of her, along with some chocolate biscuits, and listen to her daughter's tales with a smile on her face.

Hermione sometimes missed those days.

The wind blew, causing her hair to fly all over. She quickly gathered it into a ponytail with one hand, her other reaching into the pocket of her cloak to retrieve her hat. She clumsily pulled it on, laughing slightly to herself.

"Hermione!" she heard someone call out, and turned to try to find the owner of the voice.

She saw Harry, cheeks flushed with cold. His Gryffindor scarf was blowing around his head in the wind, and his hair was sprinkled with snowflakes. He had a grin on his face that caused Hermione's heart to skip a beat.

He gathered up a handful of snow and carefully shaped it into a ball. "Aren't you going to join us?" he called out again, voice alive with laughter. "Our team could use your help!"

Hermione smiled back at him. His excitement was tangible in the air and she felt herself being pulled towards it.

"Are you losing?" she asked, reaching up to tighten her scarf.

"Horribly," Harry replied with a laugh, as he ducked to avoid a snowball that had been thrown by Dean.

Hermione looked up at the sky and smiled again. She reached into her pockets again and pulled on her gloves, heart already quickening with anticipation.

"All right!" she called out, jumping off the steps, thoughts of schoolwork and classes left behind her. Harry grinned at her and turned back to the game, hitting Lavender in the shoulder.

"Hermione's on our team!" Harry yelled out, and was greeted with a whoop from Seamus.

Hermione bent down and gathered up a handful of snow, packing it into a perfect snowball.

"Who's on our team?" she asked, eyes already searching out their opponents.

"Seamus, Ron, and Parvati," Harry answered, laughing as another snowball hit him, this time in the arm.

Hermione grinned. She aimed and fired, hitting Dean directly in the side of the head.

"All right!" Harry exclaimed. His eyes met hers and Hermione felt a rush of warmth flow through her body.

Hermione loved the snow.

She loved her friends, and she loved to win.

But there was one thing she loved above all else, one thing that was more important to her than anything.

And that was Harry.

~*~

Absolutely Complete

Harry loves Hermione.

It took him a while to admit it to himself, but it is true. He loves her. He loves the way she color-codes their schedules and the way she owls him twice daily to remind him of their commitments for the evening. He loves the way she is always willing to instantly drop what she's doing to help him out, and the way she rolls her eyes at him when he's being silly.

Harry also loves the way she keeps him on-track - the subtle glances she makes at her watch to remind him that he'd better get moving or they're going to be late. He loves the way she always pauses before they enter a room to straighten his collar or fix his tie. He loves the way her fingertips brush the nape of his neck as she tries unsuccessfully to get his hair to lay down flat.

He loves the way she holds him close, the way she knows without words that he needs it, and the way she whispers "I love you" when he's feeling down.

He loves the way she knows him and the way she accepts his faults as a minor part of him that's easily overlooked.

He loves the way she pretends not to like Quidditch but cheers loudly from the stands anyway. He loves the way she yells at him for his reckless playing and always ends the tirade with a kiss.

Harry had always been worried that something would happen to her, that someone would take her away like they'd done to so many others that he'd cared about. He'd always been scared to admit his feelings for her in fear that his love would make her an instant target. It had been Hermione who'd taken him by the shoulders and shaken him gently, reminding him that she already was, and that it didn't matter.

Harry knew without a doubt that Hermione was his other half, that she completed him like no other could.

Harry loved Hermione, and the only thing better than knowing that was the knowledge that she loved him back.

~*~