Harry started to laugh. 'What, only half?'
'I think you lost the other half to Draco. But hey, they're mostly Slytherins anyway.' She shook her head. 'I can't believe you never noticed, but then, that's just typical. You don't know how cute you are and that is the cutest thing about you. Girls adore that — and now I think I've said too much.'
'Ah, so this is top-secret not-to-be-shared-with-the-male-gender information?'
'Yes. Now I have to kill you before you go tell Ron, or God forbid, Draco.'
'Right, I suppose that they don't know how cute they are either.'
'Well, Ron possibly not, but Draco? I hate to break it to you, but Draco knows exactly how cute he is.'
Harry grinned. 'Yes… kind of revolting, isn't it?'
'Well,' she said. 'Revolting isn't exactly the word.'
Harry snorted. 'Well, if you mean that — ow!'
Hermione jumped. 'Harry, what?'
But Harry was already stepping back, brushing snow off the shoulder of his cloak. 'Someone threw a snowball at me — Ron!' he yelled, and burst out laughing. Hermione followed his gaze and saw Ron standing at the alleyway entrance, holding his hands up as if to say, 'Who, me?' But he was grinning. Behind Ron she could see other dark shapes, hurtling to and fro: the seventh-year boys Blaise had been talking about, who were throwing snowballs at snogging couples.
'I didn't have a choice!' Ron yelled back. 'Neville and Dean would have done it if I hadn't!'
But Harry was shaking his head. 'You…are…going…to…die,' he shouted, and then raced towards Ron, who bolted away, laughing. Hermione stared after them for a moment, thinking, What are they, twelve? She walked towards the alley entrance slowly, arriving at the main road just in time to see Harry jump on Ron, knock him over, and begin stuffing snow into his shirt. Ron yelled, and began scrabbling in the snow with his fingers in an attempt to make another snowball. Looking at them, she suddenly saw another image superimposed over this one: she saw the two of them rolling over and over in the snow with her when they were all fourteen and it hadn't mattered that she was a girl, she had still been fair game to have her shirt pockets stuffed with ice, and she missed that suddenly -
suddenly and piercingly. They had been so happy together, the three of them, a perfect unit. Stealthily, she bent down and gathered up a handful of loose snow, which burned her hand with its coldness. She crept up behind Harry, who seemed gleefully intent on shoving snow into Ron's ears, and very carefully dumped the lot of it down the back of his shirt.
The yell that greeted this sally was instantaneous and very gratifyingly loud. Harry fell sideways into the snow, yowling, while Ron, sitting up with his red hair full of snow, was speechless with laughter.
Harry looked at her reproachfully. 'Hermione! Cheating!'
'Don't be a sore loser, Harry Potter,' she replied, scooped up a handful of snow, and hurled it at him. Harry reached out and grabbed for her leg, and she slipped and fell sideways onto Ron, who commenced stuffing snow into the bodice of her dress with an apparent total disregard for niceties. Hermione shrieked and wriggled away, grabbing for Harry with icy fingers. Shouting with laughter, they all three rolled to the bottom of the hill, tangled together, finally fetching up against a large boulder.
Hermione sat up first, spitting snow out of her mouth and holding her chest, which was beginning to hurt from laughing. Her dress was soaking wet and her hair hung in wet, ratty tendrils all around her face, but she didn't care. She watched as Harry and Ron sat up as well, both as thickly covered with snow as if they had been rolled in icing sugar. 'Well,' said Harry, taking off his glasses, which were almost unrecognizable, and squinting at them. 'That was — '
He was cut off as Hermione leaped forward and threw her arms around them both, hugging them tightly. Both Ron and Harry seemed astonished at this sudden display of affection; Ron patted her gently on the back.
Finally she pulled back and looked at them — covered in snow, both soaking, their fancy dress clothes drenched in water and sticking to their skin. They could almost have been the two boys who had collapsed on the floor of a wet bathroom after saving her from that troll so many years ago.
'I just want you to know,' she said suddenly, surprising herself, 'that I love you — I love you both, no matter what ever happens to us, ever.'
Ron looked at Hermione, and then at Harry, obviously very embarrassed indeed. 'Been at the gin again, has she?' he demanded.
Harry nodded. 'It's becoming a problem.'
Hermione held out her hands. 'Oh come on,' she said, and without being told what to do, each of them took one of her hands — Ron the left, and Harry the right. 'We'll always be together,' she said, her voice firm.
'Won't we — won't we?'
Harry and Ron looked more embarrassed than ever. 'Well, not always,' said Ron. 'I think I'm going to need a hot bath when I get back to the castle, and I plan to do that on my own, thank you.'
Harry grinned at him. 'What you don't need anyone to scrub your back?'
Ron wiggled an eyebrow. 'You offering?'
'Nah,' said Harry. 'I was thinking of Myrtle.'
'Oh shut up, you two,' Hermione interjected despairingly. 'Look — just promise me we'll always be friends, won't you? Because it's Christmas, and because if you don't, I will personally tell Myrtle that you both love her, and she'll never leave you alone again. Okay?'
'Okay,' said Harry, laughing. 'I promise.'
'I do too,' said Hermione. 'I promise.'
She looked at Ron; they both did, and it seemed to her that he looked oddly moved, as if somehow her pronouncement had made him sad. 'I promise,' he said. 'We'll always be friends.'
