In the Bleak Midwinter

Chapter One: Five Shades of Red

Ginny looked up from her Arithmancy book, out the snow-frosted Common Room window. Even the cold weather looked inviting--more inviting than this homework, anyway...

She tried again to finish her work, but she knew she had lost all desire to learn hours ago. She had been studying for too long, so instead, she decided to take a walk. Surely the cool air would relax her mind enough to work again.

Her old black cloak was thin, and she clutched it close to her against the freezing wind. The snowflakes clung to her eyelashes and hair, and her eyes brightened against the bitter cold.

She had been feeling down lately. Just the night before, when Christmas Holidays were first beginning and Ginny was sleeping alone in her dormitory, her old nightmares had returned--visions of Tom rising from the diary.

Ginny shivered, not only from the cold.

-&-

Draco Malfoy stood on the steps of Hogwarts Castle, squinting his eyes against the siege of snow and wind. The waves on the lake were growing higher, and the trees of the Forbidden Forest were heavily laden with snow.

It's colorless, Draco thought. Everything's white, black, and gray at Christmastime.

But, no--suddenly, Draco caught sight of a splash of color, flitting wildly atop the hillside overlooking Hogsmeade, like a banner. Not a banner...hair. Brilliant red hair the color of the sunset. It shone against the white snow and black cloak of its owner, dancing in the breeze.

Christmas red, Draco thought, admiring the softness and beauty of it, which were visible even from that distance. Blood red; vermilion red; geranium red.

The person turned around and began her solitary journey down the hillside. Draco started as he realized who she was. How different she had become, how old, how mature. How sorrowful.

Weasley red, Draco thought, as he turned and slipped back inside the cold stone castle.

-&-

"Ginny?" Hermione asked softly, "Why are you so late?"

"Went for a walk," she replied simply, sitting down beside Ron. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat your supper. You skipped lunch," Ron ordered.

"Come off it, you sound like Mum. Has she been giving you orders or something?"

Ron's ears turned red. "Well...no...but I--"

"Oh, Ron, it's Christmas," Hermione said soothingly.

Ron rounded on her. "What, and that's an excuse for not eating?"

"Don't cause more problems," Hermione told him sternly. "Let's enjoy the holidays."

Ron fell silent, chewing his dinner huffily.

"Where were you all day?" Harry asked Ginny. "Avoiding us?"

"Studying, if you must know," Ginny sighed.

"Good," said Hermione. "Ron, you should take a leaf out of her book."

"She may be studying, but she never said it's helping anything," Ron said, slightly nettled.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry. Ginny looked nervously at her brother.

"I mean," said Ron, turning his reprimanding gaze on Ginny, "Miss Studious here is failing both Charms and Transfiguration!"

Harry and Hermione looked very surprised. "What?"

Ginny glared at Ron, ignoring them. "How'd you find out?"

"I...heard the news from someone," Ron replied vaguely. "Why, were you planning on keeping it a secret?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I was," said Ginny, unabashed.

"Ginny? What's gotten into you? Two classes?" Hermione screeched.

Ginny shrugged. "I told you, I studied today. And I'm top of my class in Potions."

Hermione just blinked at her, mouth agape.

-&-

Draco sat down quietly among the chattering Slytherins, staring thoughtfully across the Great Hall. Ginny was poking morosely at her potatoes, looking grim. Potter and his lackeys, Ron and Hermione, weren't including her in their vibrant conversation, as usual. Never able to budge up and make room for others, Draco thought acidly. Always sharing little secrets with one another in tiny whispers.

Draco wondered momentarily why she looked so downcast. Her face was gaunt and pale, and her clothes seemed to hang off her thin frame. She yawned as he watched, scrunching up her eyes tiredly.

"Draco, dear," Pansy squeaked, and Draco's train of thought derailed. "Why aren't you eating anything?"

"I'll eat when I'm hungry, Mum," Draco her replied airily, and she turned away, frowning.

Draco went back to his thoughts, but he quickly forgot little Miss Weasley, and his mind moved on to more important things.

-&-

Ginny sank deeper into her large, cushioned chair, wanting to be invisible. If only no one else could see me, she thought wistfully. Then I'd never be hounded by Professors and Mum and Ron and...

She cast about quickly for something else to muse over, because she had come dangerously close to thinking about a name she had no desire to think about. But this name was not easily cast aside, and it rose again to the top of her thoughts.

...Tom.

Ginny shivered again, even though she sat before the warm fire in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Every time she heard that name, her body turned cold. Her blood froze in her veins and her thoughts turned dark. It was as if a cloud had moved over her personal sun, and her whole body was engulfed in shadows. An old phrase of Dumbledore's popped into Ginny's head: "Fear of a name increases fear of a thing itself." Well, she thought dryly, it's a reversible statement. Fear of a thing increases fear of its name.

But this name induced more than just fear. It seemed to spread darkness, only by being said or heard. This name held more meaning and more power than simple fear.

Darkness, Ginny thought, death, greed, and power.

The four things that his name stood for.

-&-

Draco sat stiffly in the Slytherin Common Room, waiting for the noisy students to go up to bed. Gradually, they left, yawning and stretching.

Finally, only two students were left, besides Draco. They were playing wizards' chess, snickering quietly as the chess pieces attacked one another brutally.

All Draco wanted was some peace and quiet...and that's just what was impossible to get. It seemed like every Slytherin had stayed behind for the holidays, and Draco wasn't happy about it--he liked having the run of the Common Room.

Annoyed by the seemingly untiring and immature wizards playing chess in the corner, Draco got up and hastily stalked from the Common Room. Racing through the dungeons, he hurried across the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall. He then sprinted up the Grand Staircase and rushed to the Astronomy Tower.

Ah, perfect silence, Draco thought, basking in the peace he had finally found. No one was nearby, and the whole tower was steeped in darkness. Only the stars glittered high above, casting just enough light to illuminate Draco's icy-gray eyes.

Draco sighed. How wonderful it felt to finally relax, to finally escape the hounding of his father and his fellow Slytherins. Draco, are you comfortable? Draco, are you well fed? Draco, are you treated respectfully? It was a constant stream of doting that Draco found abhorrent and loathsome. Up here on the tower, surrounded by darkness, he was left to his own thoughts.

Or so he expected.

Footsteps echoed behind him, and Draco turned around swiftly by reflex. "Who's there?" he muttered into the shadows, looking for whoever had disturbed his peace.

"Oh--I'm sorry," a soft female voice replied, sounding quiet and sad. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

Well, you have, Draco thought, his happiness at finding a relaxing moment dissolving quickly into disappointment. But he did not say anything, for once.

Something about that girl's voice--so sorrowful--made him hold his tongue. She sounded as if she held all the horrors of the universe on her back, and Draco felt a sudden need to help her.

His first thought wasn't to be chivalrous--Potter can play the hero, but I certainly won't, he thought acidly. Instead, he was reminded of his own bitterness toward people at that moment, and he thought this girl sounded as if she was feeling the same way.

He couldn't see her face, but he saw the slender shadow of her body move to look over the tower wall beside him.

"Escaping the torture of your Common Room?" Draco murmured, staring back out at the stars.

"You got it on the first guess," she replied, suddenly sounding exhausted.

Draco laughed quietly. "Birds of a feather flock together."

"What bothered you so much in your Common Room?" she asked. It sounded as though she were speaking through a smile.

"The students, gits that they are. The homework. The whole bloody atmosphere," he replied angrily.

She laughed this time, but hollowly. "Exactly--although I say, bollocks to the homework. What's one more failed class to me?"

Draco nodded, although she couldn't see him. "It's the holidays, for Merlin's sake. Do the professors ever show any mercy?"

"Never, at least not to the sixth years..."

So she's a sixth year. And not a Slytherin--I don't recognize her voice, Draco thought. But instead, he said, "Or the seventh years."

Draco looked over at her and saw her soft, slow breathing forming into a silver mist before her mouth. "Cold?" he asked her quietly.

"A little," she admitted. "But it's always cold at Christmas. Cold and bleak and colorless."

Draco remembered thinking the same thing just a few hours ago--at least, until he saw Ginny Weasley's hair, blowing in five different shades of red against the pale winter snow.

"Not completely colorless," he remarked. "There's always Christmas red..."

He felt her stir beside him, shifting onto her other elbow as she stared out at the sky.

"But still cold," she said finally.

In one swift movement, Draco took off his cloak and threw it over her shoulders, smoothly clasping it around her neck with ease. A few times while he was hooking the silver pieces together, his pale fingers touched her neck, and it was smooth and soft and cold as ice. He felt her quiver beneath his touch, but, for some reason, he hoped it was only because she was cold.

"There," he said finally, feeling somewhat reluctant to move away from her.

"Thank you," she replied, and he heard her pull the cloak close to her. "This is better."

"I'm glad," he said, before he could stop himself.

Then, gradually, the night wore on, and the stars moved, and Draco stood thinking about the constellations. At one point, the girl lay her head against his shoulder and huddled close to him, and he was happy to run his fingers through her hair.

It was long, and thick, but smooth and flowing like a river. It felt like silk beneath his hands, and he could just imagine it being a beautiful color, like raven black or golden blond.

For some reason, most of all, Draco wished it were five shades of red.

-&-

Ginny was comfortable up on the tower, shielded in the strong arms of her mysterious guardian. He was warm, and she felt protected from the icy, dark thoughts she had been thinking in the Common Room. His strength and presence seemed to warm her just as much as his thick cloak had when he wrapped it over her shoulders, and the weight of his hands running through her hair was both comforting and calming.

Then, sadly, the moon began to set, and Ginny knew she needed to go back to her Common Room.

"Goodnight," she murmured to him, still only seeing his pale eyes shining in the darkness.

"Goodnight," he replied, stepping away from her and letting her retreat down the tower.

Gradually, she descended the steps and hurried off to the Gryffindor Tower, racing through the halls, desperate not to be caught. Finally, she was safe in the security of her dormitory--although its emptiness of sleeping Housemates was hardly reassuring to Ginny.

Thankfully, she pulled of her cloak and sank onto her bed. It wasn't until she was ready to fall asleep that she realized the cloak she had thrown on the floor was not her own, but it belonged to her mysterious companion.

Curious, Ginny reached down and lifted the thick cloak onto her lap, searching for any house embroidery or names stitched into the cloth. Finally, some green thread on the inside collar caught her attention, and she peered closer, anxious to know who had comforted her when she was feeling so cold and shadowed.

Her stomach did a funny jolt and she dropped the cloak to the floor as she realized what was stitched into the fabric.

Draco Malfoy.