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He watches her breath breeze out through her lips, vanishing into the blend of night and the glow of snow’s embrace. Meanwhile, she stares at the home before them longingly and fearfully. Harry turns his attention to the home too. Two people, that Hermione had to give up at the time when the danger of Voldemort and his followers were great, are inside, unaware of their presence. Sighing, Harry reaches with his right hand, lacing his forefinger with hers. She inhales deeply and then exhales; the touch brings her down to earth. Their second fingers interlace. Some of the tension leaves her body.
When their third fingers intertwine, he says, “You’ll be with your parents again. I promise.” Harry’s voice bears strength and determination.
The rest of their fingers entwine until their palms touches. She draws strength and resolution from his words, and the feel of his hand in hers.
“Okay,” Hermione replies softly.
Their figures disappear. Sounds of cracks of a whip follow in their wake, catching the attention of the two occupants of the home, bringing them to their window. Only the mother stays long enough to stare into the vastness of outside with a sense of yearning.This is actually 200 words; written for another archive drabble challenge. Won 2nd place. Pretty happy about that. Hope you guys enjoy!