Snow Morning

Listening to her friends turn over and breathe sleepily into their pillows, Ginny lay with her eyes open, wide awake.

Sleep had fled, leaving Ginny to toss and turn restlessly and stare at crimson velvet hangings, trying to quell her turbulent mind.

Her mind kept running over the events of the previous night. The common room had been full of boisterous, loud Gryffindors, excited about the holidays and happily anticipating Christmas. Hermione, as usual, had her nose buried in a book. Ron and Harry were playing Exploding Snap lazily. Colin Creevey was telling his little brother how to

develop pictures, and was gesturing wildly, camera in hand. Her brother and his friends were ignoring her, as usual, and the noise was getting to her. She had left the common room, and wandered the halls until she wandered outside.

She had come across Draco Malfoy accidentally, and he had kissed her, then left her, outside in the falling snow, bewildered and confused.

He had walked away, and she had watched him, and after he was gone, watched the snow falling slowly on the grounds, baffled and disbelieving that what had happened actually came to pass. Soon, she had gone inside, and walked through the empty halls to Gryffindor Tower in a daze.

Draco Malfoy had kissed her. And she had liked it.

The thing was, did he mean it? Was he toying with her? Or was it just a dare from one of his Slytherin friends?

Ginny turned over and squeezed her eyes shut. She was facing the window, and the pale morning light filtering from the crimson curtains cut sharply through her sleep-muddled head. With a sigh, she got up and padded barefoot around the bed to her trunk. It didn't look like sleep would be returning anytime soon, and it was morning anyway, if early. Breathing lightly, trying not to wake up her dormmates, Ginny extracted some clothes from the trunk and began to change.

One grey, woolen skirt, crimson jumper, a pair of crimson knee socks and a black cloak later, Ginny slipped her feet into old loafers and crept over to the window. Carefully, she pulled back the curtain slightly and peeked out.

Squinting out of the window, assaulted with blinding white light after the semi-darkness of the dormitory, Ginny looked over the grounds. Snow had indeed fallen last night, and the whole of Hogwarts grounds was covered with the fresh white powder. It all looked so peaceful and serene, silent, not a movement to catch her eye. Silently, Ginny let the curtain fall and slipped out of the dormitory.

Past the Fat Lady, who gave a sleepy grumble and creaked, past the snoring suits of armor, past the Grey Lady, who was brooding by a snoozing portrait of a young, handsome knight, past them all Ginny went. The halls were empty and silent, most of the teachers and students still in bed, dreaming of the presents they would find by their beds when they awakened. Ginny had spotted her own pile while back in the Tower, but she didn't want to open them alone, and it was much too early to wake up her friends.

She pushed open the great oak doors and stepped through them, letting them fall shut quietly behind her. Cold, fresh air hit her and she froze, mouth half-open, presented with a winter wonderland.

The lake was frozen in the distance, dusted lightly with a sprinkling of fresh snow. All of the grounds were covered with new, pure white powder, untouched and unseen by no eyes but hers. Ginny grinned gleefully. She knew that later, the perfect snow would be marred by hundreds of footsteps, but at the early hour of morning, she had the grounds to herself to do with as she pleased. And she wanted to be the first one to make her footprints in the snow.

Draco and Christmas forgotten briefly, she ran down the steps and halted on the bottom one. It was all so perfect and clean and sacred; it seemed somehow sacrilegious to even walk on it.

Ginny held her breath as she slowly lifted her foot and placed it with the utmost care in the snow. It made a quiet but satisfying crunch, and she grinned impishly, bringing the other foot down in the powder. Then the glee overtook her and she took off running, bright red hair streaming behind her, breath escaping her lips in white clouds, cloak billowing out. Her loafers were getting soaked, but she ignored it, too wrapped up in the moment and the serenity of it all.

After a short while, she stopped, turned around, breathing hard, and looked at the line of footprints she had just made. Grinning in the cold, grinning for no one to see, she ran back, weaving her path around the first line of prints. She only made it halfway back - a stitch in her side stopped her, and she bent over, hands on knees, breathing heavily and wished she'd remembered her gloves.

Upon catching her breath, she straightened up and looked around. She remembered winters at the Burrow, and the woods white and perfect with newly fallen snow, and she and her brothers standing by the edge of the woods, heads tipped back, catching snowflakes on their freckled noses.

On impulse, still reminiscing about her childhood, Ginny flopped down in the snow, laid on her back, looking up at the sky. It was no longer grey like it was yesterday, heavy with snow clouds, but white. Not as white as the snow, but still white, glowing softly. To her left, Ginny saw the morning star, still shining, lonely, in the morning sky. It made sense - it was very early morning after all. Grinning foolishly, Ginny dragged her arms and legs over the ground, scooping up snow, soaking not only her shoes but her socks, and the arms of her jumper.

"Weasley, what in the bloody hell are you doing?"

Ginny scrambled up with a gasp, straightening her skirt and dusting off her cloak. Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, pale hair flopping into his face and pale skin smooth and unblemished, like the snow. His pale eyes were fixed on her, but he wasn't sneering - he was looking questioning and slightly confused. Ginny blushed crimson to match her jumper.

"I was making a snow angel," she said softly, praying her voice wouldn't squeak.

"Haven't you ever made a snow angel?"

"No, Weasley, I have never rolled around in the snow looking like a right git."

Ginny shook her head. What kind of person never made a snow angel? She remembered Bill teaching her how, when she was only three. They had plopped down in the snow side by side, and later, she had stood in front of the angels and looked at them, wondering why Bill's was so much bigger. She had asked Bill when her angel would be as big as his. He had only laughed, scooped her up in a bear hug and carried her back to the Burrow, her giggling and wiggling all the while.

"What kind of a childhood did you have?" she wondered out loud.

"Not like yours, I can assure you," he said coldly.

"That's obvious," she remarked, looking down at her socks. They were almost black, they were so wet. She was still blushing, embarrassed to be caught playing in the snow like a little girl, especially embarrassed to be caught by Draco Malfoy, who had kissed her last night while this snow was falling down around them.

"Malfoy...last night..." she ventured tentatively, very interested in her right shoe, "what was that all about?" She dared a glance at him, blushing furiously.

"Last night? Oh, is that what you're doing out here? Looking for a replay?" He was looking vaguely amused.

"No!" she cried hotly, looking straight at him. "I just want to know why you did it, that's all! For your information, I - I just like the snow. I couldn't sleep, so..." she trailed off, looking away from him. His steady gaze was too intense, and she was afraid she would turn into a flaming carrot if she looked at him much longer.

"Would you believe me if I said I did it because I wanted to do it?" he asked quietly.

"No," she said, even quieter. Then, after a pause, "Maybe."

"Would you believe me if I did it again?"

Surprised, she looked up at him. This was Draco Malfoy she was talking to! Slytherin, snarky git, enemy of Harry, on whom she had had a crush on for years, enemy of Ron, her brother, hater of Muggle-borns...Draco Malfoy, who had never looked at her more than once in all her years at Hogwarts! Briefly, her mind flashed back to her first year, when she had defended Harry against him in Flourish & Blotts, and when he had insulted her valentine that she sent to Harry. Draco, Hogwarts bad boy, who stood against everything she believed in and wanted...then why did she want him to kiss her again?

"Would you believe me?" he repeated. She looked straight at him, frowning.

"What are you thinking?" she questioned.

He paused. His grey eyes flashed, and for a moment, Ginny thought she saw an unsure little boy in there somewhere, scared and confused like she was. "I'm thinking I want to do it again," he said simply.

"Why?"

"Because...you're beautiful standing there. You look like you're burning, against all that snow." He stopped abruptly and looked away.

"You look like the snow," she informed him. Then she looked away too, fiddling with a stray thread on her jumper cuff.

"You could melt me." It sounded like an offering. Ginny shook her head.

"I don't understand."

"You don't need to understand." With that, Draco covered the small distance between them, took hold of Ginny's arms and covered her mouth with his.

Ginny trembled, feeling very much like a deer trapped in the headlights of a car. Draco was a good kisser, better than most of the boys she had kissed before, which was few, but still. His teeth grazed her lower lip, but he was gentle and did not presume to stick his tongue in her mouth like some boys were apt to do. She parted her lips slightly, enjoying the sensation, but suddenly pushed Draco away.

He looked puzzled. "Why did you do that?"

"Why are you doing this?" Ginny cried. "Look, I'm not stupid, if this was some dare from your Slytherin buddies, you can go find another girl! I don't know what you're playing at, Malfoy, but you'd better stop!"

Draco looked at her oddly. Little did she know she presented quite a picture, standing there amidst all the white snow, flame-colored hair disheveled and stringy, wet, clothes damp, with a blush on her cheeks and her brown eyes dark. Little did she know Draco was comparing her to some of the most beautiful girls of his year - Lavender Brown, Blaise Zabini - and found her the prettiest of them all. "A Malfoy and a Weasley...atrocious, don't you think?" he murmured.

Ginny frowned. "What're you talking about? Why are you doing this? Just tell me!"

"Because I want to, Weasley!"

Ginny looked taken aback. In all her years of knowing him, he had never shouted at her. Angry red splotches were not gracing his pale cheeks, and he looked a little dazed. Did he actually say that?

"Because I want to," he repeated softly.

Ginny shook her head, feeling her curls fling drops of water everywhere. "I better go." She moved past him, pulling on the stray thread of her cuff, but he caught her arm.

"Stay, Weasley," he commanded, but it sounded more like a plea. "Everyone's asleep. Where will you go?"

She didn't know what to say. "The dormitory -"

"No. Stay out here with me." She hesitated. "Nobody will see."

She shook her head again. "I don't care if people see. I don't know what you're trying to do here, Malfoy. I'm going." She tried to pull away, but he held fast, and his gentle grip turned hard, almost bruising her arm. "Malfoy -" He spun her around, she almost losing her balance and bringing up her arms to protect herself, slamming into his chest full-force. "Stay," he commanded her. She looked up at him, fearful and filled with wonder. There was no telling what he might do next.

He kissed her again, softly, but kept a firm grip on her arms. As he pulled away, he let her go, looking into her eyes. Suddenly, she found that she really didn't want to go back to the dormitory.

"Stay and teach me how to make snow angels," Draco said.