There's a Snowflake in Her Hair

The grey streets of Hogsmeade were covered in a thick white blanket of snow. Fairy lights twinkled and red-and-ivy-green wreaths hung from shop display windows, many of which were smeared with the white powdery residue of snowballs.

This Christmas Eve coincided delightfully with a Hogsmeade weekend, and Hogwarts students milled about, going randomly from shop to shop, stopping once in a while to sample a bit of candy or gather snowballs from the ground or stare at the latest model of the Firebolt in the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny formed a tight, cosy group, huddled together in the cold, as they made their way to the Three Broomsticks.

Harry held the door open for Ginny as they entered the Three Broomsticks.

"Thank you, that's very gentlemanly of you," she said, smiling at him.

Harry felt his insides turn to mush, and pondered over that fact.

They turned around to wait for Ron and Hermione, who had apparently frozen under the doorway, not from the cold but from the offending plant above which had them figuratively pinned.

"Darn mistletoe," Harry heard Ron curse under his breath. A second later Ron leaned towards Hermione and pressed his lips against her cheek. There was a sharp intake of breath from Hermione, and Ron's face registered no small amount of shock at the boldness of his actions. They stood there awkwardly for a moment, neither knowing just what to do.

Without turning around, Ginny spoke as she hid her smile. "Close the door, won't you, Ron? We don't want a draft blowing in, not when it's so cosy inside."

They ordered four steaming mugs of Butterbeer and took off their caps and mittens as they sat down to wait. Ginny's cheeks were flushed pink from the cold and very rosy indeed, or so Harry thought. Ron and Hermione were carefully avoiding each other's eyes. Harry thought they were rather painful to watch- painfully obvious, that was.

Ginny snorted into her Butterbeer as Ron began commenting on the weather and Hermione nodded her head in emphatic agreement. Harry watched Ginny watch them. He was rather disappointed when she suddenly turned to look at him, startling him and causing him to look away and pretend that he hadn't been staring at her with the utmost fascination.

They left the Three Broomsticks a quarter of an hour later. Once again, Ron and Hermione found themselves rooted to the spot under the mistletoe. Ginny giggled and pulled Harry ahead. "Let's give them some privacy, shall we?"

"I doubt they'll get much privacy with that crowd in there," Harry told her, cocking his head towards the Three Broomsticks.

In any case, they turned away as they saw Ron and Hermione lean in towards each other. There were a few indistinguishable soft murmurs, and a few seconds later the door closed shut, the movement causing a bit of snow on the roof to fall off onto a nearby tree branch, which in turn caused the tree to shake ever so slightly, just as Ginny was walking underneath a slim branch of that same tree. The slight impact caused a single wisp of a snowflake to slide off the branch.

Harry watched, almost entranced, as the snowflake drifted down slowly, lower and lower until it gently landed on the crown of Ginny's head, a perfect white crystal in fire.

Wasn't it odd, he reflected, that the snowflake didn't slide down her hair? Her ginger-coloured hair was smooth and straight, unlike Hermione's, the snowflake should have slid down; it should not have gotten embedded in her hair, it should have fallen off or melted or vanished or something so he would stop watching Ginny like he fancied her or something equally unthinkable.

Oh Merlin.

Oh great Dumbledore's sweat socks.

No. Bloody. Way.

"What're you looking at, Harry?" Ginny asked, her eyes bright with merriment. "C'mon, let's go to that road up ahead, it's downhill all the way from there; I heard it has the most wonderful view at Christmas."

Harry and Ginny began walking up the road, with Ron and Hermione close behind them. Harry's thoughts were in a whirlwind, and he stared dumbly at his and Ginny's hands, which were clasped together as they walked.

On one hand there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary about fancying a smart, funny, brave, amazing witch who was developing from pretty to lovely to beautiful through her teenage years. On the other hand, this was Ginny Weasley, for heaven's sake! She used to stick her elbow in the butter dish when Harry was around. Though the idea of dating Ginny was not altogether an unpleasant one (despite the fact that his stomach gave a queer lurch when he thought about it), Harry had always associated his more tender feelings towards Ginny as being of a brotherly nature. That is to say, the thought of kissing her had never quite crossed his mind till today, and it brought a faint blush to Harry's cheeks. He quashed that bit of imagination in a moment.

Ginny stopped abruptly at the top of the road, Harry still staring at the top of her head. The road was downhill from there, and the village of Hogsmeade - not just the few shops they'd visited - was spread out before them in pure white splendour. A large golden sun was dipping down into the horizon, and the sky was bathed in pinkish hues with streaks of pale lilac. "This is magic." Ginny said breathlessly.

Perhaps it was the utter romance of the setting, or perhaps the scenery had done something to his brain. Perhaps it was the fact that it was Christmas and Harry believed in miracles or perhaps it was Ginny's words that did him in. "There's a snowflake in your hair," Harry whispered hoarsely. He tentatively lifted one hand and let it rest on Ginny's hair for a moment before brushing the snowflake away.

Then he bent his head down and kissed her.

*