Silent Night

Fuming, Draco Malfoy strode out of the hospital wing, his usually neat hair disheveled and his steely eyes blazing. Damn that Squib! How dare he give Draco detention! His father would certainly hear about this.

It was all Potter's fault, anyway. After a Potions lesson, where Draco had been awarded twenty House points for his perfect Perpetual Potion, Potter and his friends made a few remarks about his person that no self-respecting Malfoy could ignore. Rashly jumping at the first idea that came to his mind, Draco had shouted "Accio!" and a few moments later, flung a slimy toad liver into Potter's face. It wasn't in his usual style, to go physical like that, but he had been having a bad day. Snape had not punished him, but Filch had. Exhausted and irritated after yet another run-in with Peeves, Filch had momentarily arrived at the crime scene and, turning puce, had begun to scream at them. Why he wasn't screaming only at Potter, Draco couldn't fathom. It was Potter who exploded the liver in midair, so it was obviously his fault it was all over the walls. Filch had set Potter to cleaning it up immediately, and, leering horribly at Draco, put him down for cleaning the hospital wing. On Christmas Eve.

Furious, Draco had complained to Snape, threatened to write to his father and brought up the point of it being the holidays, but to no avail. His detention still stood, and that was why he was now walking down the hall, alone and hopelessly bitter. His head swam from the countless Freshening Charms Madam Pomfrey made him put on the sheets, and the smell of a fresh spring breeze still hung about him. Unwilling to head back to the Slytherin common room just yet, he racked his mind for anything else to do. Also, he knew that the longer he stayed away, the more attention he would get when he returned.

He passed a window. Catching a scent of fresh, cold air and a glimpse of a dark sky, he knew what his destination would be. Silently, he crossed the Great Hall, descended the sweeping staircase and pushed open the front doors.

A wave of icy air hit him and he shivered from the sudden impact. He didn't have his scarf or cloak with him, and it was just a little chilly. Draco wrapped his arms around himself and set off at a slow pace away from the castle, aiming for nowhere in particular.

Snow crunched under his feet, and the sound was strangely comforting. No matter what anyone else thought, Draco appreciated solitude and silence occasionally. He breathed in the clean air, thankful for it, and looked up at the sky. Not a cloud in sight, and the stars were bright.

Draco inhaled deeply and slowly relaxed. He never let his guard down, not even around fellow Slytherins. But now it was too peaceful of a moment. He had to take advantage of it, or miss out.

He stood, head tipped back, eyes fixed on the sky and mind wandering, just enjoying the night. Well, he supposed he better get back now. The Slytherins would be wondering where he was, and he didn't Filch to catch him wandering after hours. Bitter man, him. There was also the matter of that owl to his father...

With a slightly regretful sigh, he tore his eyes away from the stars and slowly turned to go, when he head the light crunching of snow a little ways away. Slamming his protective walls back into place, Draco spun around and searched for the other evening wanderer.

He didn't have to look very hard. A small figure, wrapped in a black cloak, was walking absentmindedly towards him. The light from the castle, reflected from the glittering snow, weakly illuminated a head of flaming red hair and a red and yellow scarf.

Nobody better to share the night with than a Gryffindor. Damn.

"Who's there?" he called out.

"What? It's me," the person called back, in a high and sweet voice. "It's Ginny."

Ginny? Ginny who? Sister of the Weasel, that's right, the one who had a crush on Potter. What was she doing here?

"Hello? Who is that?"

For a moment, Draco considered retreating quickly into the warm and brightly lit castle, then decided against it. After all, a Malfoy had no reason to flee from a Weasley.

"It's Draco," he announced. "Draco Malfoy."

She was quite close now. Draco would hear her mumble a quiet 'oh' under her breath, and she paused, as if pondering if she should come closer. He could see her small, elfin face, chin tucked into the scarf, and the masses of red hair falling over her shoulders. She came closer.

He shifted his weight and studied her intently. A pale, heart-shaped face with a dusting of freckles over the nose. Shiny red hair. And stars reflected in her brown eyes.

"What're you doing here?"

"I could ask you that," she replied softly.

"No, you could not. I am a prefect. I have full rights to be here, without being questioned."

"I'm taking a walk, if you insist on knowing."

"Well, it's dark. You should be inside," he said sternly, squinting at her.

"So should you, then," she pointed out.

Well, this girl walk walking straight into the fire. How dare she, a poor and foolish Weasley, compare herself with a Malfoy! Who did she think she was?

"I can be out here as long as I want, Weasley," he remarked shortly.

"Then so can I, Malfoy," she snapped, the famous Weasley temper flaring. "As students here, we're not any different. You are no better than I, or anyone else. You should remember that."

That a Weasley would deign to speak that way to a Malfoy, Draco never thought. He never imagined anyone talking in that manner to any Malfoy. His good mood quickly evaporating, he scowled at Ginny and reached for her.

The lithe girl stumbled back. but Draco hadn't spent years on the Slytherin Quidditch team as Seeker for nothing. He lunged after her, and caught a fistful of her cloak.

Roughly, he yanked her forward. Unprepared, Ginny lost her footing and tumbled forth, throwing out her hands to stop her fall. Palms flat, she his Draco's chest. The impact jarred them both, Draco involuntarily clutching at Ginny's shoulders and drawing her closer.

Once they both regained their posture, they froze, surprised, staring at each other. Draco's fingers had a death grip on Ginny's shoulders and Ginny's hands were resting against Draco's chest. A cloud of warm breath escaped from Ginny's parted lips, and only then Draco remembered he was supposed to breathe. His own white cloud joined Ginny's and quickly dissolved in the darkness. The fresh snow sparkled around them as they stood still, frozen in terror and unable to believe that had their hands on each other.

Draco was staring at the air between then, incapable of movement, thoughts still. He raised his gaze to her eyes slowly, as if afraid of what he would see. Somehow, it had become important to him that he did not see repulsion or disgust in her eyes. But all he saw was amazement, fear, a little bit of wonder and a lot of stars.

"It's amazing how many stars your eyes can hold," he murmured.

Ginny blinked. "What?" she whispered.

Oh, great, Draco. Now you've done it. Where did that come from, anyway? A compliment to a Weasley? Draco wouldn't be surprised if he looked away to find Potter standing on his head in the snow, singing like the Sorting Hat. The universe was surely out of order.

Universe or no, what was more important was what he would do now. Should he deny having said anything, and look like a stupid git? Or should he pretend he'd meant to say it, play along, and look like a lovestruck git? Perhaps he should just turn around and go back up to the castle, leave her here, confused. No, that was out. She would surely tell

Potter and his friends, and after the detention, he couldn't risk them gaining the upper hand. Denial was also out. He was a bloody Malfoy, he always knew what he's doing!

Play on it. That was the best bet.

Swiftly, he wrapped his arms around her, trapping her within the circle. Her hands were still pressed against his chest, and she looked at him, dark eyes wide open and reflecting whole galaxies. He could heel her flutter with every breath she took. He noticed he wasn't really cold anymore, and detention had been forgotten.

"You heard me," he whispered, before his mouth closed over hers.

She stiffened in surprise, then slowly relaxed. Parting her lips a it more, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her pale cheeks. She trembled in his grasp. She was like a snowflake, tender and fragile, and Draco worried that if he clutched her too tightly, he might crush her, that she would disappear.

Carefully, he broke the kiss and looked down at her. Ginny's elfin features were flushed, her hands curled into fists. She breathed cautiously, as if afraid she would disturb something. Breaking the circle of his arms, he released her and stepped back. She didn't move.

"I'll count those stars someday," he vowed. Quickly, he spun around and headed towards the castle at a brisk pace. Something wet and cold landed on his cheek, and he swiped at it. Something else landed on his hand. It was a snowflake, and it felt like an ice princess' kiss. The snow began to fall around him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny Weasley, standing still, hands lowered to her sides, looking after him. Snowflakes were dancing around her in a leisury spiral.

Snowflakes are rather like stars, Draco Malfoy thought as he pushed open the front doors, while the snow fell thick and heavy, cloaking Hogwarts like a cloud quilt.