I Own Practically Nothing, least of all any part of the Harry Potter universe.

1993

What is the color of regret?

Draco wonders this idly during divination class. A guest lecturer (Ha! He can't help the outrage at this misnomer) spoke with little eloquence on the meaning of colors in dreams and signs. He'd learnt nothing in the thirty minutes he'd endured this prattle, and yet his mind still burped up odd little questions, just like that one, regardless of his lack of interest in the class.

He sighed a little, sick to death of the droning on and on, endlessly about blue-green-orange-purple, love-hate-revenge-curiosity. Draco Malfoy eyed the window rather desperately, though whether it's because he wants to leap to his death to escape the awful fate of being stuck here or because he's looking for a distraction is anyone's guess. It's one of those bright winter days where everything is so white, it's almost painful. He can only see one tiny patch of the grounds from his seat, and it's empty; boring and blank.

The young Malfoy almost turns away, looking for a new something to be distracted by when he sees a flash of movement. Following the mouse-sized newcomers with his eyes, he watched that small group of students hurry through the snow. They were jostling each other as they ran-slipped-laughed, making fresh tracks through the empty canvas of snow as they scurried out of view again.

Almost disappointed that they hadn't done anything truly interesting, Draco is about to look away, when a single, tiny figure darts back into view. He/she/it grabs a… scarf, he thinks, off the ground, shaking it vigorously. He looks closer and notices the red; Weasley red- the color of poverty. He's just about to reach unobtrusively for his wand (there are any number of quiet, little jinxes he could fling its way), when it drops to the ground.

He expects that it (it has to be the wee Weasley, the girl) has fallen- really she's remarkably clumsy on the ground (not when she flies), but she makes a snow angel instead. A single, perfect snow angel from which she levitates herself to keep pristine. He finds his gaze drawn back to it again and again.