Wanderer

A Christmas Appeal for Misfortunate Slytherins

Harry laughed, the carefree amusement remaining in his eyes long after the sound dissipated.

"As I remember," said Hermione, moving back to stand by the bed, bunching her scarf to her chest, "you not giving your homework in on time persisted right throughout school, not just First Year."

The three friends stood quietly for a moment. "Gosh, I've- missed you so much," she gasped. Hermione wanted to cry, just seeing them here, in the flesh, put to bed any worries she'd had. Those first weeks back at Hogwarts had been so difficult without having her boys beside her, and then everything with Draco- it was nice to be on familiar ground, even if they looked so much older than when she last saw them, they were still the same, still her boys.

Harry smiled lopsidedly at her. "We've missed you too."

"More than that," said Ron, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wore a flannel over a black shirt and jeans, wand poking out of his boot. He'd cut his hair, she noticed vaguely, it was still shaggy, just shorter, falling over his eyes and brushing his ears. "We've missed your organisation, your brain, your cooking, your help. Really, Mione, it was selfish of you to go back. We could've died on our own!"

Hermione laughed. "But you didn't. I'm so proud of you both, for everything you've done."

The boys shared a fond glance. Having closed the door behind her, Harry moved further into the room, gesturing at her, "Take your coat off. Feel free to make a mess, this is Ron's room."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Charming."

"I'm surprised it's this tidy," she said, grinning when he sent her a scowl.

"We only got here ten minutes before yourself. He hasn't had time to make a mess yet."

Hermione laid her scarf and hat over the chair in the corner of the room, slipping out of her coat too. She felt the warmth envelop her, fold her into the comfortable arms of familiarity. The room was cosy and small, deep red furnishings with a small double bed in the centre and an armchair in the corner next to a circular coffee table. Harry sat on the bed, patting the space next to him. "Come on then, we need a catch up."

They'd already ordered some drinks for the three of them and when there was a knock on the door, Ron all but ran to open it, ears tinging pink as Madam Rosmerta commented on how grown up he looked, handing him the tray and dazzling him with her smile. Harry made a comment before the door was properly shut, causing Ron to flip him the finger, collapsing into the armchair across from them and looking like he had done in their Sixth Year upon accidentally ingesting a love potion. The boys helped themselves to their Firewhiskies, whilst Hermione sipped at her Butterbeer and they laughed like nothing had changed, like they hadn't fought in a war, like they were still children.

"I'm afraid I don't have much to tell you," said Hermione, when Ron asked her what she'd been up to. "I'm sure Ginny keeps you updated enough."

Harry looked a bit guilty at that. He held the bottle between his knees, leaning forward and looking up at her. "She said you weren't eating, weren't sleeping, only really leaving your room to go to your lessons or the library."

She let out a long sigh. That wasn't entirely true. She used to go to the kitchens a lot too, something she knew Harry was aware of since he admitted to keeping an eye on her using the Map. They were details though, small details that made no difference; she had been slow on her recovery but she was recovering, that was what mattered.

Hermione pressed her lips into a line and looked between the two of them. She said, "I'm not going to lie and say that I was coping. I wasn't. But I know you weren't either. It's just the way it is."