After cleaning up the books they had pulled out before their game, Hermione douses the fire and together the pair walk outside into the cold winter. They talk as they move through the forest, voices lowered so they don't disturb the silence of the environment. It's only when Hermione steps into a deep bank of snow that their noise rises above a whisper.

"Merlin, that's cold!" She hisses as snow slides up her pant leg and bites at her leg. A shiver works its way down her spine and her teeth start to chatter.

Draco chuckles beside her. "Don't look so upset," he says, smiling and shoving her playfully. Hermione stumbles and nearly falls, only just managing to catch herself against the trunk of a tree. Huffing, she crosses her arms and stalks ahead of him. Draco chases her, and then a warmth is enveloping her form. His coat is heavy on her shoulders but the heat is enough to outweigh any complaints. "Better now?" he jokes.

Unable to find the words to thank him for the oddly kind gesture, she just hums and curls her hands in the folds of the cloth. They fall quiet again.

He's the first to notice the small owl perched on the sill of her kitchen window. "That has to be for you. Mine usually sit by my bedroom window," he states.

Hermione reaches out from beneath the black coat and catches the owl between her hands, letting Draco carefully take the letter before the bird flies off. She pushes open the back door and enters the house, taking the letter from him in the process.

Draco follows her to the kitchen, craning his neck in a very unsubtle attempt at reading the letter. He asks, "who's it from?" It isn't what he wants to ask, but she can hear the unspoken question. She shrugs and breaks the seal, slowly letting her eyes rove over the words. A sigh slips out when she recognizes the words.

"It's not from him," she replies. "Harry, actually." She reads on and a frown blossoms. "I'm not sure why..." she trails off, letting out a sharp breath when she reaches the end. "I've got to go. I'll choose where we go another day, but I really do have to leave."

"It's fine," he says, waving his hand dismissively.

Hermione pulls out her wand, preparing to apparate out, then remembers she's still wearing his coat. Hurriedly, she takes it off and passes it to him, missing the warmth it had provided.

He takes the coat and tosses it carelessly onto the kitchen table. "When will you be back?"

"Tonight maybe. I'm not entirely sure though, he didn't really say what's wrong," she replies, voice distant. "There are leftovers in the fridge." For a moment, her eyes meet his, and there is a flash of mischief that overpowers the worry in her cinnamon orbs. "Don't burn the house down." It doesn't make him laugh, as confused as he is, but she doesn't stay long enough to see that. With a pop, she's disappeared from the house.

Draco sighs and drops onto a kitchen chair, preparing for a long night of restless waiting and no sleep.

Hermione arrives at Harry's home and stomps to the kitchen where she can hear glass clinking. "Harry James Potter, you had better have a good reason for sending such a vague letter or I swear I'll make you regret it," she grouses, the stutters to a stop at the kitchen doorway.

He's sat at the table with a cup clenched tightly in hand, though he doesn't seem to have any plans of drinking it. Harry's completely still except for the slight swirl of the cup between his fingers that occasionally makes the glass collide with the wooden table. Her voice makes his gaze jerk up to her.

Softer than before, she questions, "is something the matter, Harry?" Hermione walks forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

His head tilts and he gives it a slight shake. "Nothing is wrong. I'm just thinking."

Brow furrowing, Hermione pulls out a chair and sits beside him. She waits in silence until he pulls his thoughts together enough to speak in more than short sentences. The cup clinks again, and again, before Hermione takes it from his grasp and sets it far out of his reach. He grunts in protest but doesn't try to get it back.

"I got a visitor today," he finally says. "Just after Ginny left for practice." His green eyes are bright on her, urging her to understand.

"Ronald?" she guesses. "He actually came here after hearing that you know what he did?" Harry nods, jaw working. "What did he do?" Her voice is cold and hard enough that Harry flinches, but he recovers quickly.

"Nothing, really," Harry admits. He bites his lip and loses himself in his thoughts before. Hermione waits again, though her fingers are curling and uncurling in her lap and her foot is tapping impatiently on the floor.

When her patience runs thin, she breaks the silence. "Why do you seem worried?"

Harry starts out of his head and blinks back to awareness. She watches anxiously as he seems to have some battle with himself. Fortunately, he comes to a decision and speaks again.

"He said he was leaving?" Harry replies, phrasing it more as a question. Whatever he's confused about means nothing to Hermione. He watches as her face scrunches up in shock then unravels in realization.

Hermione jumps from her seat and throws her arms around his shoulders as a gleeful laugh spills from her lips. He's slow in returning the embrace, but the joy on his friend's face brings a smile to his lips. He allows himself, for a moment, to forget his concerns.

"This is wonderful," she murmurs. "We can live peacefully again." Hermione drags Harry to his feet, twirling them around and slipping in a few proper hugs. She yanks him towards the fireplace in the living room. "We're going out now to celebrate!"

His worry comes crashing back. "Hermione, I think-"

"We can pick Ginny up from practice along the way, and let Molly watch Teddy for the night."

"Hermione, listen to me-"

"We'll grab George, too, while we're there. And Angelina. I'm sure she'd love to go," Hermione enthuses.

Harry twists his hand until he's got a grip on her arm then pulls hard until she comes to a stumbling halt in his living room. She rounds on him, still smiling, but a miffed shadow over her face. "Stop for just a moment and let me speak," he demands.

She recoils, not used to him speaking like that to her. "What is it?" Hermione asks, that sharp edge from before coming back.

He doesn't want to tell her, doesn't want to spoil the first honest happy mood that he's seen her in since the wedding. She has to know, though. It'll be better that way. "You don't think that he'll just walk away, do you?" The smile falters and he winces. "If even the smallest trace of the old him is left, then we both know that he'll be too obstinate to leave without doing something stupid."

The smile is gone now, wiped clean from her face, and is replaced with a dark frown. Harry steps closer, prepared to console her. He's shocked when a laugh bursts from her lips rather than some expression of hurt. Another follows the first, and a third after that until her head is thrown back in mirth.

"Harry, that's just ridiculous! Even he can't be that stupid," she manages to get out between her joyous laughter.

He stares at her as she lures herself into a false sense of security. "If you'd think for just a moment then you'll realize that what I'm saying has some truth," he insists, moving towards her again. "I know Ronald and I know how he acts. Giving up is not in his nature, and you know that too!" He's shouting now, desperate to make her see that something might still happen.

Something dark and cold flashes in her eyes. "I know the new him better than you'll ever need to," she says, voice like steel. "He's a coward, and he won't do anything to any of us. No matter how stubborn he is, he won't act on it." She gives herself a small shake and when she speaks again, there is no trace of the poison it had held just seconds ago. "Everything will be fine."

She grins and pats his arm, walking to the fireplace alone this time. He so stunned by her utter refusal to see the truth, something so unlike her, that he doesn't protest or try to stop her.

"If you'll excuse me, I must get home. I just remembered that I can't go home tonight because I told Draco that I'd most likely be home." Hermione looks back over her shoulder at him and reassures, "we'll go out another night, though, I swear."

She takes a handful of floo powder and steps into the fireplace. Saying her home, she tosses the powder down. With a roar of green flames, she's gone.

Harry regrets many things in life, but had he know ahead of time what is coming, he could have stopped himself from feeling one of his biggest regrets. As it is, though, he is not a seer and will only look back on this day and wish he had fought harder to make Hermione listen.