Everything that's around me, it's all white.
The air I sucked in deeply was much colder compared to the grounds where a warming charm was cast, and it made me shiver, but somehow it made me feel better.
The ground, the trees around me, the remaining roofs of Hogwarts, even the puffs of breath I breathe out, everything around me is pure white except for the brilliant blue sky.
It's amazing how the weather cleared up perfectly for today when there was a snow storm yesterday.
Yes, brilliant weather.
The sun is shining, and there isn't even a speck of a cloud in the sky.
The contrast of the sky and the earth is beautiful.
It's a perfect day for a wedding, isn't it?
It must have been Hermione who insisted of having her…her and his wedding during winter, surrounded by the snow in the ground of Hogwarts.
Yes, it was her.
"It'll be beautiful!" She had said.
As I let the cold air sink in me, the tension of my body loosened and without hesitation, I collapsed flatly onto my back into the soft snow.
It'll soak through my dressrobes and my for once neat hair, but I truly didn't give a damn.
I closed my eyes to get the bright sun out of my eyes.
I wished I hadn't it.
With nothing to distract my view, all the memories, memories of him comes flashing into my mind mercilessly.
The first day we met on the train.
The way he sacrificed himself.
His dead still body under the waters.
Unconscious on the bed of the infirmary.
The strong arms that pulled me out of the icy waters.
His flaming red hair.
His dazzling smile.
The way he'll say my name.
The waggling eyebrows when he's thinking of some mischief.
Him on a broomstick in the air.
How his presence comforts me in any way possible.
I love them all.
I loved them all.
Not 'love' as in best mate way, nor a brotherly family way, but really 'love' as in 'everything'.
Somewhere inside me, I've always thought the one day maybe, I'll be able to tell him my feelings for him, and he'll give me back the same too.
And that we'll hold and kiss and snuggle on a small cramped bed where his legs will stick out.
But, I guess not.
My life never goes right, does it?
I let out a dry laugh under my breath and opened my eyes again to see the blue sky that reminds me of his strong eyes that are full with confidence and pride.
Unable to bear it, I covered my eyes with my snow wet arms, and took a deep breathe again.
Now that I notice my back is soaked wet, I feel colder than I was before, but then again, I don't care.
The softening of the snow around me.
I like it, actually.
It makes me feel like I'm melting into the snow myself.
Or maybe I am.
I'll sink into the snow, into the soil, leaving no trace of me behind.
No one will know, and no one will notice.
"Harry!"
I hear all a sudden, making me snap out of my little dream, back into reality.
I lower my arms and raised my chin a bit, just to see who was calling my name.
The swishing dark green dressrobes came into view as the crunch sound of the snow beneath the newcomer's shoes echoed through my ears that are half buried in the whiteness.
"Draco," I reply.
"Harry, what the hell are you doing? You're going to freeze yourself to death in there."
There's a slight worried panic in his voice that makes me want to giggle out loud.
It's still awkward thinking how we used to be the worst of enemies.
But not anymore, as we somehow formed a weird shape of friendship throughout the years after the battle.
It might have been me saving his life, or simply the wounds from the war we both share.
I don't know.
I don't care.
But it's nice.
It's nice to know that I'm not the only one feeling alone and out of place.
Draco still gets the cold looks and glares from witches and wizards, though he was cleared from all charges, due to the fact that he didn't really want to be on the Dark side.
His mother is okay too, because she's the one who saved my damned bloody life (she's even invited to the wedding, since Mrs. Weasley opened up to her, though it seemed difficult at first), but his father is in Azkaban, and all the wealth their family had was gone, all donated to the children who lost their families during the war.
Nothing's the same for him now.
Just like me.
"What are you doing here?" I answer back, still not moving from where I am.
Draco has come closer to where I lay, and is now towering over me with his eyebrows furrowed stubbornly.
He used to do that too, you know?
When he feels frustrated, there's always a crease between his brows clearly showing exactly how he feels.
Never did, and probably will never know the term 'poker face', him.
"I…came to look for you. You weren't there with Weasley and…Weasley like you should be."
"Draco, I don't have to be anywhere."
Draco stares at me, and I stare back.
He opens his mouth as to try to say something, but the words seem to get stuck to the back of his throat.
It's true.
I don't have to be anywhere at all.
I don't have to be there to see 'my everything' leave me.
I don't have to face the reality.
I can stay in my dreams where whatever I wish for comes true, of which I start with having a happy family with a Mom and Dad.
And Sirius and Remus.
Maybe even Snape too.
I deserve it now that I have finished what I was meant for to do.
I risked everything for killing that bastard, and look what I get for return?
Blood-stained hands and loneliness, fake smiles, and useless amounts of money.
Stupid.
Everything's simply stupid.
"Potter, get out from the snow," the blond finally says.
"I don't want to."
"Quit being a baby, Potter and get up, now."
Without waiting for my stubborn 'no' reply, Draco grabs my upper arm roughly, and pulls me up.
The vision in front of me changes, and it's not the too bright blue sky anymore, but a pair of gray eyes looking furious, real up close.
"Your lips are all purple."
"…Well, I do feel a bit cold."
The little puffs of air in between us disappear as he closes in the gap and kisses me lightly on the lips.
"They're dry too. Haven't I been telling you to put on lip balm during the winters?"
I let out a chuckle at his words and rolled my eyes.
"Just because you, Draco, are prissy, doesn't mean I have to be one."
Now it's his turn to roll his eyes.
Everything's quiet again, as look up to stare at the sky again.
"I liked it cold, you know.
"It feels as if it'll take me in, leaving nothing behind.
"I wish it did."
I lower my head, and I see the gray again, this time not furious, but hurt.
"If you're planning to kill yourself out in the cold, Potter, don't even try thinking that I'll let you."
He grips harder into my upper arm.
I noticed that he didn't bother letting go of me since pulling me up.
"Kill myself, no, but sleep myself, maybe."
"Potter,"
"I like it cold and white and soft."
Replying with nothing, Draco pulls me into a hard embrace, and buries his face into my wet hair.
I can feel the warmth of his body sinking into my freezing body.
Little by little, I don't feel cold anymore.
Ron, my life, was flaming, going way past 'warm' and was too hot for me to reach.
Touching him will make me burn.
There will never be a better color for him as red.
Draco, with his cool grey eyes has a heat of his own, but not as hot as Ron.
Still,
"You're too warm for me, Draco."
I want it cold.
I want it white.
If I can't get the only thing I'd give my life for, then I don't need anything.
I want it nothing, just white.