A/N: Hi guys..I'm back. I'm so sorry that I haven't uploaded for ages. It's just that there are a lot of stuff to do at school and I didn't have time to sit back and even sleep!! So, I'm really sorry about that. Well, anyways, here is another story for you guys to read. This would be story number ten, although it's the ninth Harry Potter fic I'll be doing (the other one is a Yuyuhakusho fic) Anywho, this for you all this Christmas. I'm afraid I won't be able to upload then so I'll post it while it's early (and while I have time).
Disclaimer: Nope not mine….
What's Snow Like?
"Hey Harry. Look at the snow," Hermione had uttered, her hands covering her mouth.
"You want to go out and play?" Harry asked, a wide grin in his face.
"Stop it! Don't act like a child! 'You want to play' he said." Hermione remarked, mimicking Harry's tone. She moved from the window she was leaning on and went near the fireplace. Harry followed her around the crimson couch and sat beside her. His weight, along with the lunge he made, made the cushions bounce as Hermione spilled some of the hot chocolate she was drinking in her robes.
"Harry!" Hermione blurted out, flabbergasted. The young Gryffindor boy just smiled. Hermione looked back at the window and watched the little snowflakes gently descend.
"You really want to go out, don't you?" Harry asked, a little more serious this time, but Hermione sensed a little mischief going on in the young man's brain. Still she smiled and brushed away that common thought. This was Harry Potter anyway. Mischief was his inseparable quadruplet, along with danger and of course, bravery.
"Okay. I'll call Ron," Hermione stood up to call him, when Harry held her soft hand and gave a small smile when she saw what he had done.
"I don't think he has time. Why don't we have quality time? Just you and me." Again that sweet, shy smile. Hermione thought about it. They haven't been together for quite awhile since they were both busy. Why not?
"Okay. Quality time with you." She smiled.
"You know, this looks like such a good idea after all." Hermione shouted at the running Harry. "I thought this was quality time, Harry!"
"It is!" Harry shouted back.
"Well then, why am I here and you're far there? And still running?"
"Because, I want us to be as far as possible." Harry stopped as Hermione followed. Upon reaching Harry, who sat down while catching his breath, she fell down by his side. "Now no one will disturb us."
"Okay, so what do we do?"
"You wonder what snow is like, Hermione?" Harry asked as he scooped and packed snow in his palm.
"What kind of question is that?" Hermione questioned back rather flatly.
"Just answer it."
"Snow is like…well, a white blanket." Hermione replied, thinking very hard as she winced to find an answer.
"A blanket? Like the thing you cover yourself when you sleep? Come one Hermione, think deeper…think figuratively, what can you compare snow with?"
"Well," Hermione thought once more, "snow is tranquility. You get me?" she rubbed her hands, or rather, her warm mittens, waiting for his comment on it.
"Getting close, but that's not it."
"Well then what? You know with all the things I'm comparing snow with, our quality time could just be flying away." Hermione commented, emphasizing quality time by making a "quotation marks" sign.
"It's love, Hermione! Snow is like love!" Harry finally blurted, along with some cheesy sweetnothings, Hermione wasn't able to understand anymore.
"No it's not! That's cheesy! Snow is not like love and I'll prove it to you." Hermione stood up and walked around. "For starters, snow is not like love because snow is cold. Do you experience cold when you are in love, Harry?" Hermione placed her hand one elegantly on top of the other.
"No…" Harry replied softly.
"On the contrary, you feel heat, passion, burning, am I correct?" Harry nodded.
"Therefore, snow is not like love because it does not imply the same feeling as love." Hermione smiled, pleased with her argument. Harry sat down frowning and looking at the sky, as if he was thinking very deeply. Hermione bent down and giggled.
"You see, Harry, from the very first argument, I already stumped you."
"No, that's not possible. You're argument was insufficient. I have a point, you know." Harry stood up and walked around to. His back faced Hermione, who was the one who sat down, her cheek resting on her palm, looking bored and sleepy.
"And that point would be.."
"That snow is a time when people need heat. Just like love! You need warmth when you love someone. What do you have against that?" Harry sat down as it was Hermione's turn to walk around and think.
"Well, Mr. Quickthinker, let's see what you have against this one. Snow is just little flakes piled together. How can that be love when it's actually separated?" The young woman placed her hand on her hip, and lightly and quickly raised an eyebrow as her pot of thoughts started boiling.
"Aha! Wrong move, Mione. It is like love because when you pack it together, it creates a solid shape. Just like this." Harry threw a snowball at her, which made her cry out. "Love is formed by two people just as snow or snowball is composed of tiny flakes." Hermione looked at the remnants of the snowball in her coat. Nothing much left except a few white specks that she brushed off.
"Got you where I want you Harry! Look at my robe, there's no snow remnants anymore. That's because snow is easily broken up. How can it be like love, when in order to have love, you need a strong, almost unbreakable bond?" Hermione fixed her outfit as Harry thought about what he was going to say.
"Actually, that's the thing. Snow is broken, love is broken," he knelt down gently and rose up back again, "so that it can form new bonds!" Harry threw another snowball toward Hermione, which made her cover her face as quickly as she can.
"Snow is not like love because snow is something you can be light about and just play around with. Love, however is a serious matter. Lose it, and suffer. That's why I'm trying not to mess my chance up."
"Snow is like love because, like love it doesn't come when you want it too. Besides, what's love if you're not going to enjoy it? Live the moment! Just like when you go nuts playing around with snow while it's still around!"
"Well, snow does not hurt anyone. Love hurts." Hermione answered.
"How'd you know that? I didn't think you're the type to experience 'unrequited' love." Harry remarked.
"Well, you know, I, um, just hear that from, uh, people… like you and Ginny, and from songs and poems…you know, that kind of stuff." Hermione answered rather unsure.
"Well, snow does hurt. What about frostbites, and blizzards and avalanches? Just like love."
"At least snow brings happiness. Love doesn't." Hermione answered, a bit serious at the moment.
"Herm, what are you talking about? Snow brings as much happiness just like love gives bliss. Are you making this up just because you don't have anything more to say?" Harry laughed. But then a sniff was heard from Hermione.
"Herm? Don't cry. Look, I'm sorry that it ended up this way. You know what, we can stop right now. Maybe, snow isn't like love. Maybe you were right. I was just being weird and stupid."
"Tell me more," Hermione whispered, looking up at her friend's captivating emerald eyes. Harry stared at hers back. Those hopeful, sincere chocolate brown eyes made him feel guilty about the quarrel, and now he put her down.
"More about what?" he whispered worryingly.
"About why snow is like love," Hermione replied back. Harry laughed softly. Hermione just smiled shyly.
"Well," Harry said as-a-matter-of-factly, just as Hermione used to do, "snow is like love, because, well, because it brings you happiness. Also," he added, embracing Hermione as they slowly swayed, "snow is like love because just like every snowflake, every love story is unique. Don't you think?" Hermione nodded.
"Then, snow is like love because, well, you leave imprints in snow, just like memories in your heart."
"That's a nice one," Hermione commented.
"Snow is also like love because, you are sure that it's going to be a different experience every time."
"Snow is unpredictable," Hermione whispered.
"Exactly. Just like love."
"Snow can also be manipulated and used badly, just like people can play with people in love and use them for something bad and hurt them."
"I wish that doesn't happen to me." Hermione whispered.
"Me too," Harry replied, hugging her closer.
"Snow is also open to everyone, just like everyone can fall in love. However there would always be those who will feel uneasy because they're afraid or too busy, or too proud." Hermione just nodded and nodded. Harry sighed.
"Tell me more." Hermione pleaded, like a little innocent child, begging her mum to read a bedtime story.
"I'm running out of comparisons. This is really racking my brain. But, there are two more that I'm holding on to." Harry, pushed Hermione gently, so that she was lying down on his lap. It was very quiet in the grounds, there was absolutely no distractions.
"The first one is that, just like snow, love will slowly melt away, and disappear."
"Well, what about true love, Harry?"
"That is true, but it's not easy finding true love. Just like you can't find the perfect snow or snowflake or whatever."
"That is sad." Hermione commented, making little circles on the snow with her finger.
"But the good thing is that just like snow arrives every winter, love is sure to come back, to every faithful heart." Harry smiled as he lowered his head slowly to give Hermione a peck in the cheek. At the same moment, Hermione turned to look at him and give him a peck on the cheek.
They brushed on each other's lips.
Hermione's eyes widened at the thought of what she had just done. Her breaths became more quick and she froze. But the thought of Harry's lips in hers just drowned her fears. As she accepted his kiss and cherished the moment.
"I don't think we should be doing this Harry," Hermione turned away. She expected Harry to ask why not, but he just nodded. He brushed his hair back, and turned away from Hermione.
"I'm sorry."
Hermione knew that this was what the real Harry would've done. Ever polite, ever gallant and respectful. She leaned and hugged Harry from the back. Hermione's arm crossed his chest. He gently pressed her arm as he looked at her and smiled.
"We acted pretty silly today." Hermione broke the silence.
"We sure did." Harry agreed. "But you didn't tell me who you experienced love with. And why were you hurt?"
"Nothing. That was just nothing." Hermione looked away. "Look, I was just finding some excuse because I can't think of any other reason why love isn't like snow. That was it."
"Hermione,"
"I can't tell you Harry. But I know that you know him more than anyone who ever lived."
"Dumbledore?"
"No."
"Snape?"
"No!"
"Sirius? Or Maybe Hagrid."
"No, and No."
"Then who is it?"
"You."
"ME?"
"You know yourself more than anyone else, right?"
"Hermione, your logic amazes me sometimes…"
"So, is quality time over?"
"I don't know. Should we end it?"
"Can I just do one more thing?" Hermione asked biting her lip.
"What is that?"
"I just don't want to mess up my chance." Hermione replied as she fell in Harry's arms and felt his warm lips. Though they were out in the cold for a long time already, each other's presence seemed to heat them up and warm them. Hermione lied down on the cold snow, as Harry planted the very last kiss for the day. Just as he did, a big snowball landed on his head. Next thing he knew, Hermione was giggling hard.
"What chance was that?" Harry asked, spitting out snowball bits in his mouth. "The chance to kiss me, or the chance to get back at me after all the snowballs I threw at you not so long ago?"
"Both," Hermione replied with a big wide grin.
"Oh well," Harry sighed. "I deserve both anyway." He bent down to give Hermione a last kiss on the forehead and helped her up so they can go back to the quarters for a quick change of clothes and a great big mug of hot chocolate or two.
A/N: Well, what did you think? This is the fastest fic I've written, I did it only three hours!!! Yay for me. Mostly, I do chapters for three days, but I was so caught up on this. I've been waiting for Christmas season to write about the snow debate idea thing. Anyways, this is by far the most fluffiest thing I have ever written. Half happy, half contented. I'm more of an angst person. 'Not Yet Forgotten' has Chapter two already by the way, speaking of angsty stuff. So if you'd like a switch of mood, after reading this fluffy nice fic, read a sad angsty one, 'Not Yet Forgotten.' Please, this is one of my Christmas wishes…Grant it!!! I hope I'll hear from you!
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Harry leaned at Hermione as they both held their mugs full of hot chocolate.
"Hey, I thought that you thought that I was cheesy. What's with the 'I don't want to mess up my chance' thing?" Harry asked, nudging Hermione.
"Well, I thought that you knew that I thought that you're not cheesy anymore."
"But I thought that you knew that I thought that you thought that I was still cheesy." Harry answered.
"Well, now I know that you know that I know that you thought that I thought you were cheesy. But I don't think you are anymore. In fact, I think you are a romantic."
"Whatever. As long as I know that you know that I know that you think I am a romantic." Harry replied,sometimes pausing. "Whatever."