Chills | D.M + H.G.

one

DISCLAIMER: I know absolutely NOTHING about hockey. Literally nothing. Everything in this two-shot I have learned via Google or asked my brother about, so please don't come at me about the details of the sport itself and take all of that with a grain of salt. This is more so supposed to be showcasing their relationship and dynamic, so focus on that instead please :)

Betawork done by FirstLoveLateSpring and LeilahMoon!

With that firmly out of the way, happy reading!

xoxoxo, carmen

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Hermione had never really gotten used to the feeling of being cold. She had, however, grown quite desensitized to an array of smells. And honestly, she much preferred it that way.

Be that as it may, the cold was something she could deal with, even if she didn't fully appreciate or accept it, but the putrid scent of a plethora of perspiring teenage boys? That was something she was embarrassed to admit she had acclimated to.

The air in the rink was the kind of cold that was more dry than wet - the kind that sucked the moisture out of your hands out rather than sunk into your bones and froze you from the inside out. This was the primary reason for her investment into the coziest gloves that she could afford. She inhaled slowly and deeply, welcoming the feeling of the cold air coating her lungs.

Hermione was earlier that morning than normal. She knew she didn't have to be, but she liked the quiet time to herself before the boys showed up. Hermione had been raised on the ice, mainly because of her dad and brother, so she felt as at home there as they did.

She wasn't exactly a part of the team - she was more so an honorary member. She had watched from the sidelines for as long as she could remember, just looking for reasons to spend time with her dad and brother. It had brought them together as they grew and, years later, she was still sitting on the bench, still at every practice, at every game. She still debriefed with her dad after games, watching the video recordings their mom took, looking for ways to improve. It was tradition, and she was a sucker for it.

The Zamboni finished its first sweep of the day and she waved to Albus, the driver. He waved back and smiled at her. They had become friendly within the last few years - Hermione had established her habit of being early, and was often the first one on the ice.

"Hey Al!" she called.

"Hello, Hermione! You're early!" It was their running joke. They'd shared the same greeting every morning since she'd first met him.

"Oh, you know, the early bird gets the worm and all that," she chuckled. "I wanted to get a jump on the rest of the boys."

She stepped onto the batch of fresh ice, loving the feeling of slicing through a clean slate. She had been skating for as long as she could remember and she adored it. A happy chill shot through her as she savored the feeling.

Albus responded, "I'm sure you've got them beat in spades. I'd love to see you scrimmage with them one of these days."

"I think I like watching from the sidelines more than I would scrimmaging," she said with a shrug, waving off his praise. "Besides, I wouldn't want to emasculate them right before their biggest game of the season by getting their arses kicked by a girl." Her eyes glittered and she shook her head at the idea. "Dad would have my head when I undoubtedly bruised their egos."

He laughed at the image. "Well, if you ever join them out there, I'd better be invited," he raised an eyebrow at her.

"You'll be front and center, I promise." Hermione grinned and bid him goodbye for now as he disappeared through the giant doors with the machine.