A/N: Hello, HP fandom. I don't know you, and you don't know me. I usually write Newsies slash. But because my friend asked so nicely - okay, so it was more like begging, but it was polite begging - I wrote HP het. Idk. Anyway, my friend asked (begged) for a fic during the movie when Harry and Hermione were dancing together. She ships them so hard, its hilarious. But she rocks my socks and I love her, so I wrote her one. I'm sure she wanted something happier, but - meh. Oh well. So here you go, dahling! Enjoy! :)

They sit, watching. Snow falling, swirling. Hitting the house, trampled by feet. Broken. Like they are. Broken for so long they don't even notice anymore. It is normal now. They don't know how to feel any different. And maybe they never will.

It had happened nearly two years ago. One second there, the next gone. That's what it'd been like. A dark night. A darker deed. And then nothing. Nothing but pain, and loss.

They had been staying at a ski lodge, the four of them. Harry and Ginny, Hermione and Ron. A lovely weekend. Full of fun and gorgeous white snow. Everything had been fine, just fine, just perfect, and then - and then. It wasn't. They would never understand, never comprehend, why it had been done. Some people were just too full of hate and loyalty, they supposed. A lovely weekend, ruined by fire. Green, magical fire. A crime of hate, by enemies that had still been at large. Enemies that had been caught, thank God, yes, but did it help now? No. Not really. They were still gone. Still eaten by fire.

Ron and Ginny.

They wished they had been with them. Wished then, still wish now. Will never stop wishing. Because now, nothing is okay, nor will never be okay. They are broken, just like they snowflakes that shattered under their feet when they ran up the mountain, too slow.

After, they disappeared. Not together, alone. Where did they go? The Daily Prophet asked. Decided they had run off together. That sleazy Rita figured the fire had been their own doing, part of the plan. Her and her damn conspiracy theories. Nothing could ever just be. It was bad enough that it had happened. Now they had to live with the pain of being blamed for it everyday.

They had wandered apart for a long time. And then, they found each other. Held each other and refused to let go. Just kept holding and holding. They were all they had now, really. All the comfort they could find.

And they tried to deny it, they really did. Yes, Harry still loved Ginny, and yes, Hermione still loved Ron, but something was brewing. That pain was producing a need, a need for something they both wanted to give each other but were afraid to provide. Both looked up at the stars at night and were sorry over and over for thoughts that ran around their heads.

But over time, the stars they both looked at and imagined as their lovers faded and disappeared. Gone. Their ghosts lingered a little longer, but they left, too. Only faint memories and the dull pain of sadness still remained.

And so this night, they give up denial. As the snowflakes fall and hit the house and break, they give up. They kiss, in full view of long faded stars. They are all each other have now. Two broken snowflakes, fixed by coming together, once again whole.