It was a truth, although one she would not publicly acknowledge, that Hermione Granger did not like to ski.
She had told Harry as much her Fifth Year when she had coerced her parents into letting her return to Grimmauld Place a few days into her last trip to Switzerland.
Grimmauld was another truth she'd take to her grave. Her parents had assumed she had spent that Christmas back at school studying for her O.W.L.
s, not helping Harry through what she had feared was possession. Regardless, whether she was escaping to study or help a friend, she was always escaping skiing.
Which her parents, had they known the truth, would have been startled by. She had excelled in the sport, like everything else she had set her mind to.
Her father and mother had been avid skiers,
spending their Christmas Holidays since dental school to Hermione's birth visiting the different resorts that decked the mountain tops of Switzerland and France.
When their only daughter first learned how to walk, they had her fitted with her first pair of skis to join them on holiday. It would be something the three of them could do together.
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