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Listening to Harry's words, Hermione wished she could bury her face in the snow.
Summoning all her courage, she said, "You have to turn your face away and close your eyes."
Harry grumbled, "Just a kiss on the cheek? Really?"
"You—!"
Seeing that Hermione was about to burst into tears, Harry quickly said, "Alright, alright..."
He turned his face to the side as she asked.
"And no peeking! I mean it!"
"Got it. But if you don't hurry, the train's going to leave."
Hermione looked around and saw that most of the students had already moved to the other side, crowding onto the train. That meant no one would see them. A relief.
She stared at Harry's handsome face, heart pounding like a drum. Slowly, she rose onto her tiptoes and leaned in. But just as she was about to kiss his cheek, Harry turned his head—and their lips brushed in a fleeting, electric spark.
Even in the darkness, Harry could see the deepening blush on her cheeks.
But it didn't end there.
Harry smiled faintly and pulled Hermione into his arms.
Their bodies pressed together. Their faces were close, breaths mingling.
He could see the fine down on her cheek, smell her soft fragrance. His breath grew hotter. Their lips touched again.
Harry trembled, overwhelmed. He saw the surprise in her eyes, her lips slightly parted, the tip of her tongue peeking out—pure and alluring. He couldn't hold back. He leaned in again, kissing her deeply, gently wrapping her tongue with his.
They lost themselves in the moment.
...
...
The sharp whistle of the train brought them back to their senses. Hermione blinked as if waking from a dream.
"I—" she stammered, but didn't finish. Instead, she grabbed her things and fled.
The train began to move. Hermione sat alone in a compartment, face buried in her hands, cheeks burning.
She felt as though she'd lost something—but at the same time, something warm had settled in her heart.
Her eyes stared blankly ahead.
She eventually stuck her head out the window to look back, hoping to catch one last glimpse.
But the darkness behind the train swallowed everything.
Harry was still thinking about the kiss—his first, even after two lifetimes. And it had been with a girl like her.
When he saw Hermione frozen after their lips touched, something inside him surged. Heat, impulse—he acted on it, shamelessly stealing her first kiss.
...
"Harry, let's go," Hagrid said once the train had vanished from view.
"Yeah," Harry nodded.
One tall figure and one small walked through the snowy night, footsteps steady.
Only the crunch of snow and their quiet breathing broke the silence.
...
They returned to the castle. Dinner had already begun.
The Great Hall, despite its festive decor, was nearly empty—only a few dozen students scattered about.
Even with the garlands and sparkling lights, the loneliness was palpable. Others had gone home to be with family. Those left behind had their reasons, but the cheer of the season eluded them.
This kind of holiday almost felt worse than none at all.
Harry looked toward the staff table. Even Dumbledore was there—a rare sight.
Normally, the Great Hall at this time would be lively, noisy, brimming with chaos from all four houses.
Harry used to find that annoying. But now, facing the peace and quiet he'd once longed for, he found it hollow.
He felt listless, drained.
He laughed bitterly at himself. What a fool.
After dinner, the remaining students trickled back to their common rooms.
Harry walked alone to Gryffindor Tower.
He pictured it: the roaring fire, classmates gathered close, Hermione curled up with a book, others chatting, playing chess, daydreaming... warm and full of life.
...
At the portrait hole, he hesitated.
What was the password again?
He scratched his head. "Madam, you look lovely today."
"Cheeky boy," the Fat Lady said warmly, swinging open.
Inside, the common room was empty. The fire was dying. The room felt dark and cold.
Harry hated that. He conjured a soft sphere of light. The glow of the Light Element filled the room.
He sighed in relief.
But then he looked at the dormitory doors.
Was someone waiting behind them? Would a shadow stand over his bed as he slept?
He shook the thoughts away.
Humans scare themselves more than anything else.
Merlin had said, "Humans are social creatures."
And he was right.
Loneliness could drive anyone mad.
Harry couldn't sleep in the dorms. He just couldn't. Why was he so afraid of the dark, even after reincarnation?
So he left.
...
"Harry, where are you going?" the Fat Lady called after him.
"Sleeping at Hagrid's tonight," he replied, already gone.
...
Knock, knock, knock!
Hagrid opened the door, peering out.
"Harry? It's late. What brings you here?"
Seeing Hagrid filled Harry with relief.
"What, can't I come see you just because I felt like it?" No way he was admitting he was scared.
"Of course you can."
"I'm crashing here tonight," Harry said as he entered.
"Why not in the dorms?"
"Too quiet. Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd chat with you."
"Alright. But there's only one bed."
"Easy. Blanket, come! Quilt, come!"
...
Harry hugged the thick bedding. "Just give me a wooden plank. That'll do."
Hagrid, watching Harry's smooth spellwork, couldn't help but glance at the pink umbrella leaning by the bed.
Soon, Harry had made a makeshift bed and lay down with a contented sigh. "Don't turn the lights off, Hagrid."
"Alright," Hagrid said, not understanding but not questioning either.
"Meow, meow, meow..."
A sharp meow came from the door.
Harry sat up and opened it. A cold wind blew in, and Little Cutie slipped through the door.
Hagrid handed over a fried fish. "Your cat comes here sometimes, looking for food."
After finishing, Little Cutie licked her paws and burrowed into Harry's blanket.
Harry joined her, gently patting her head.
"Sleep well... We've got adventures tomorrow."
.
.
.
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