When The Ice Melts
During winter, Hogwarts grounds were like ice-glazed wonderlands, sparkling and glittering in the bright, warming sun--beautiful, slippery and a vastly popular object of delight to many a student. The trees would be frozen solid, cold and hard to the touch, with long, reaching icicles hanging from their loping branches, and crickle crackle sounds as they were stirred by the gentle breeze. The ground, laden with soft, white snow, and glazed over in thick coatings of ice in many a place, was perfect for those snow angels, or just to rampage madly through and feel as you sunk into its cool depths, your footprints left till the next snow fall. And the castle itself, covered in a soft, sparkling sheen of ice, would glitter beautifully, a monument of winter marvel for all to see and admire.
Ginny Weasley loved winter; it was cool and collected, calm and serene, while, at times, also managing to be wild and uncontrolled, truly Mother Nature's creation. The lake, especially, was her favorite place, always thickly frozen over and covered lightly with those fluffy white snowflakes she enjoyed so much. The sky was usually a glowing baby blue, dotted with plump white clouds--and when it was gloomy, it still held a dark beauty that was all its own and still to be pondered upon with adoring eyes.
This was how Ginny Weasley saw winter, and it was a very nice way to see what most people considered the most oppressive season. Truth be told, winter was not what they thought; it was a season where all nature lay solemn, watching the fruits of the year vanish and be replaced, eventually, with new hope that was spring.
But winter was Ginny Weasley's favorite season, nonetheless. Spring was nice, with its colourful blossoms and fresh grass; summer was fine with its smoldering hot days, perfect for swimming; and autumn was alright in all its warm, comforting colors and crunching leaves underfoot--but winter was the season of perfection. No other season could so successfully create the epitome of all that was to be wondered at, so successfully capture and hold the mind of Ginny captive in its carressing arms.
It was in the winter of Ginny's sixth year that she met the person who would become the tamer of her wild heart, the only one who would understand her mind, body and soul so well that she'd have no need to sit and ponder over herself for winter days on end, because she would be understood so fully, and loved so completely that it no longer mattered if she knew everything; as long as he did. It was Christmas Break, and the castle was just about empty, but it had been drenched in heavy layers of snow and ice the night previous, so Ginny was inclined to venture out.
Gorgeous, marvelous, beautiful--there were no words to describe her jubilation as she inhaled deeply the scent of fresh snow and pine trees; a sharp smell that made her eyes sting and water, but left her wanting more. She walked away from the great doors, away from the warmth of within and into the cold of outside, bundled up in her burgundy jacket, big black winter boots and colorful yellow tuque. Perfection, absolute perfection, as her feet crunched through the thick, pure snow, and finally, finding a sweet expanse of land near the lake, just urging her to do it; she flopped onto her back and wiggled her arms and legs hysterically, giggled at her childishness, as she made her very first snow angel of the season.
She stood, galloping around in delight, as if it were the first time in her life that she had seen snow, running from tree to tree, running just to feel herself sink into the snow; and laughing, laughing so hard and having more fun that she could ever back at the Burrow, where the rest of her family currently was. Her urge for more of the pleasant icy surroundings overtook, even as flurries began to ease their way down, resting on her eyelashes, in her thick red mane. She stood for a second, sticking her pink tongue out, simply rejoicing at the cool sprinkles on her tongue, that melted as fast as they fell.
She trudged on, towards the Forbidden Forest, which was perhaps the most mysteriously beautiful place during winter; it's gloomy recesses bathed in snow and ice, like everything else, but still so strange and so unknown that Ginny was always drawn towards it on these winter days--if only to see if the rest of the forest was as magical, if not more, as the grounds of Hogwarts were during these blessedly chill days.
She was on the outskirts when she saw him, quitely sitting beneath a snow laden tree, the delicate snow flakes lodging themselves in his dark jacket, his eyes closed to them even as they found homes on his long blonde eye lashes and settled comfortably in his windblown hair. Ginny was caught, mesmerized by the scene, entranced. She didn't want to disturb this, this that seemed so natural, so right, so she just stood there, in plain sight, watching as the boy sat deep in thought amidst the winter wonderland, oblivious to her fascination and presence.
It was mere minutes, possibly hours, when he finally detected her person, eyes snapping open, revealing two slate grey eyes that glinted silver in the small light, and blinked rapidly to clear themselves of the falling snowflakes. They watched each other for a moment, and Ginny was unsure. She took a step closer, almost afraid of who her mind had already registered him as.
"Malfoy?"
He was silent, and the flurries still swept about them both, embracing them in their beautaous fall. Ginny didn't know what to do, so she simply sat down, Malfoy's thick scrutiny searching her face. They sat and stared for moments on end, before, to Ginny's surprise, Malfoy's lips twitched up into a small, but genuine smile.
"Come sit, Weasley. There's no one about."
She didn't know exactly what to make of his invitation. He was being civil, which was new to her, and he had actually smiled, which was also new to her. She found herself wondering after the usual sneers and venomous words, not to mention his notorious smirk. His eyes narrowed for a moment, as if he'd abruptly remembered something. HIs head snapped around, and his shoulders shifted to get better views from each vantage point.
"Your brother's not around, is he?"
She thought his worry amusing, and giggled slightly.
"No," she said, lifting herself up off the ground, and walking cautiously over to him. She settled next to him, leaning against the tree, "He's not."
They sat in silence, neither knowing what to say.
"Weasley...have you ever thought about me?"
His question caught her off guard, and she gaped for a moment at him, even though he was not facing her, instead staring off into the distance as the flurries still swirled about.
"Well...yes," she said, unsure, "I've always felt that you were a git for insulting my family." She didn't mind the fact that they weren't in a fight, and she had no intent of starting one. She had just been answering his question honestly.
It was an answer that he accepted, and she knew it as he began to laugh bitterly. "If only you knew."
It was an unspoken agreement, and they both returned to the spot the next day, silent but there. They didn't need to talk; both just sat, quiet in their thoughts, somehow happy that there was some one else there. Not to, of course, talk to, just to keep their company, and for the sake of knowing that there was some one else there.
"Do you ever think of me, Malfoy?"
He shifted slightly from his thoughts at her question, but didn't turn to face her. "Yes." He didn't elaborate, and she didn't ask. Just knowing was enough, for some strange little reason.
The next day, they returned again, despite the day's London exterior, and sat in their silence again, for a while. It was only when the flurries began to fall, that something happened.
He kissed her.
Yet again, for what seemed the hundredth time, the duo sat beneath their chosen tree, winter avid and obvious all about them. It was a quiet evening, as usual, and neither said a thing. The only acknowledgement of each other were their tightly clasped hands; his larger one over her smaller one, fingers laced as they lost themselves in something neither quite understood.
It was the last day of Christmas Holidays, and the students of Hogwarts were just beginning to file back in. The day was cold, but sunny, and most students were smiling and laughing, gleeful to be back to Hogwarts, with their friends.
Ginny and Draco were the only two students who weren't in the Great Hall, welcoming back friends or being welcomed back. They were under their tree, and were feeling none of the after-festive cheer.
In fact, Ginny was crying, and no matter how much Draco held her to his chest and cooed to her sweet consolements (the sweetest his mind could muster), she would not stop. He began to cry as well, pristine tears falling from his tightly shut eyes as he tried to supress the feeling.
They knew.
And it was a horrific revelation, but they knew.
Ginny hated the end of winter almost as much as loved it's beginning and middle. It was a time when spring began to show it's face, all that winter worked so hard for melting away into oblivion and ready to be forgotten. Spring was a time when things were restored to their natural beauty, where snow and ice and all the products of snow and ice had no place. It was a time for only green grass and cherry blossoms, tinkling breezes and shining suns.
When the ice melts, and the world returns to it's productive state, things go back the way they were.
Things become right again, they become normal.
Draco and Ginny weren't right, they would never be right. The two of them together could never be normal, no matter how hard they tried.
Only when the ice melts.
Author's Note: I have noooooooooooooooooo idea what this is. An experiment maybe. Yes...let us say it is an experiement...ANYWAYS :P REEVVIIEEWW! lol, I demand it of you!