Hello, all!
I was trying to continue working on my latest Harry Potter fandom project, and I was getting really stuck. And then I thought, "Well, maybe working on a light (kind of...well, light-er) one-shot than Antipathy will help me feel better. And I've always been fond of the more obscure characters, the ones that are only mentioned in passing -- the Ravenclaw Trio, for instance, Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, and Terry Boot, and those pesky Slytherin characters that are always lurking in the wings. And Snow just sort of blossomed. It's short, sweet, and it took me right out of the dumps, that's for sure.
It could be taken as a one-shot in the Antipathy universe, or it could be seen on its own. Either way you want.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any aspect of the Harry Potter franchise. Please do not sue me.
Snow
by Shu of the Wind
***
Saturday morning dawned cold and clear and coated with snow. It was the sort of morning that usually had her shooting out of bed, but this morning, Padma Patil lay still, watching the snow falling through the window parallel to her face. The rest of her dormitory had disappeared, which was good -- otherwise, she wouldn't have been able to think.
Tomorrow, everyone in their third year and above would be donning hats, coats, gloves and scarves to travel down to Hogsmeade and escape the rule of the Carrows and black-robes for at least a few hours. Anyone who hadn't been banned, anyway -- Ginny would be staying in her dormitory, according to what Padma had overheard at the meeting, along with a few other people.
Padma sighed deeply, sitting up and pulling her dressing gown on before sticking her feet into her slippers. If that was true, then why did she feel like she was living under the shadow of a thunderstorm?
She'd been feeling like this all through the meeting last night, and the meeting before that, and the meeting before that. Not frustrated, exactly -- simply tired. Tired of all the lying and the danger, and the hate that the world was based on now. Tired of the regime and the constant fear it drove into her. Tired of torture and seeing names she knew in the Prophet every morning, listed as traitors or newly-caught prisoners. Tired of the war.
She knew that there were a lot of people -- not necessarily in the D.A. -- who felt the same way she did. She'd heard them whispering in the common room, when they thought she was too involved in her book to hear. She knew that there was a dangerous line between that and refusing to rebel any longer, and that scared her even more than the thought of torture.
Padma changed clothes and wandered downstairs, for once without a book as protection. A couple of third-years giggled excitedly in front of Ravenclaw's statue, comparing their permission slips for Hogsmeade and whispering about Zonko's Joke Shop. She stored their faces in her mind, reminding herself to ask them first if any Dungbombs went off, and joined her fellow prefect in front of the fire, pulling her feet up under her to keep them warm.
"Morning." Anthony said quietly, without lifting his gaze from his book. Padma sighed and laid her cheek against the arm of the powder-blue couch, staring into the flames.
"How long has it been snowing?"
"A couple hours now. Terry and Michael have been outside since they woke up this morning." Anthony finished his page, placed a bookmark in his spot, and closed his book, setting it aside. "Are you all right?"
Padma shrugged absently and said, "I don't know. Am I supposed to be?"
His eyebrows snapped together like magnets, and Anthony frowned. "You sound awful."
"I sound tired." She corrected, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. "Don't you feel tired, Anthony? Of everything?"
By the way he frowned, he knew exactly what she meant by everything. After a moment, Anthony tapped her in the kneecap with his book, getting to his feet.
"Get your cloak and scarf on. We're going outside."
"I don't want to go outside." Padma said, jumping up as though she'd been scalded. She stared at him blankly. "Why do we have to go outside?"
"Because you're as gloomy as those paintings in Snape's old classroom, and the snow will make you feel better." He said, as though spelling it out for a simpleton. "Get your cloak and for God's sake put on some decent shoes. You'll get frostbite otherwise."
Padma stared. Anthony stared right back, one eyebrow rising.
"All right." Padma said hesitantly. "I'll be down in a minute."
It took three. By the time she met Anthony in the common room again, decked out in hat, scarf, gloves, and heavy socks, Anthony had put his book back and gathered his own cold-weather accoutrements. She felt strangely embarrassed as his eyes swept over her from top to toe, making sure that her toes weren't going to get frostbite, and shifted uncomfortably.
"Come on." Anthony said, tilting his head towards the dormitory door. "I want to show you something."
The walk through Hogwarts was eerily silent. Padma picked at the weave of her scarf, unwilling to look at him. It wasn't that she didn't like Anthony, and that she didn't spend time with him -- in fact, she spent more time with Anthony than she did her own twin, because they were both prefects and were required to spend time together. But she'd never actually done anything that could be called 'fun' with Anthony Goldstein. The extent of their interaction outside of prefect duties was probably sitting in the same compartment on the train there and back from Hogwarts.
Outside, the world was filled with laughter and snowballs. Padma barely dodged one thrown by one of the first years, smiling in spite of herself. Out here, it didn't feel like a tyranny at all. It just felt like a snowy day, like it had the year before, with snowball fights and snow angels and sculptures made with magic.
Anthony didn't stop walking, taking her right through the courtyard where most of the school had clumped together, out into the main grounds. There were people out here too, in groups of three or four, taking advantage of the mostly untouched snow banks to play complicated games of chase me, find me. Padma crossed her arms over her chest, watching her breath fog in the air, and watched for a few minutes. The scarves and hats were like splashes of color on a completely white horizon.
"This way." Anthony said quietly, starting up the hill towards the Whomping Willow. "Come on."
Padma followed.
It was a hard slog up the hill towards where Anthony wanted to go. She embraced it, loving the feel of having to work to get something, to achieve something real and tangible. Once they reached the top (far enough away to not disturb the Willow, but still at the very top of the hill), he pointed out towards the Forbidden Forest, and Padma caught her breath.
It looked like an oil painting. Every single tree of the Forbidden Forest seemed to have been frosted with powdery snow, turning it from something frightening and gloomy to a beautiful Christmas vision. For an instant, she wished Colin Creevey was there at that moment, to take a picture of it. And then she hated herself for that, because if Colin was there, he would most likely be tortured and killed before he even raised his camera.
"This is beautiful, Anthony." She said after a moment, glancing at her fellow seventh year. Anthony was staring out at the forest, too; there were flecks of snow in his hair. "Thank you for bringing me here."
He was quiet for a long moment. Padma stood next to him, simply looking out at the forest. It was having a calming effect on her nerves, draining away her tension. It felt good to stand out here in the snow, away from it all.
"Padma, listen to me." Anthony said, after a moment. She jumped and looked at him, surprised. "I know you're tired. Merlin, we all are, I think. Everything is turning into a dead end; we didn't get the sword, we can't stop the Carrows from torturing people, we can't rescue everyone that gets sent to detention. We're fighting a losing battle."
Padma said nothing. She simply looked at him.
"But the point is, even if it is a losing battle, and even if we're all bone-tired, we can't stop, Padma." Anthony said. He turned to look at the forest again, sticking his hands into his pockets. "Because we're making a difference. It might not be much of a one, but it is a difference. We've pulled kids out of detention that would have been shattered otherwise. We've made people think twice about what the Carrows are spewing. We've kept the hope alive in this school."
"But at what cost, Anthony?" Padma asked, staring at her hands. "What has it done to us? Don't you wonder how scarred we'll all be at the end of this? If it ever ends? Haven't you ever wondered if we're going to win? Harry's gone, he's on the run, no one knows where he is. He can't save us from You-Know-Who this time."
"I know, and that's terrifying." Anthony sighed, the air in front of him filled with a frosty cloud. "But that's why we have to keep on fighting. We can't sit in the dark and let Harry save us this time. We have to fight for our own freedom, if we want it. That's why Ginny never stopped thinking about the sword, why Neville has changed so much this year, why Loony Lovegood has actually started making sense." This drew a wet laugh out of Padma. "And every time we save someone, that's a million more reasons to keep on fighting. Do you understand?"
She could feel the tears sliding down her cheeks as she nodded. Anthony looked at her for a moment, and then held out an arm, and she joined him under his cloak, putting her own arm around his waist.
"Anthony?" She said, after a moment. Anthony glanced down at her, flakes of snow turning his hair into a dusty grey.
"Mm?"
"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me tomorrow?"
He looked at her for a long while. And then a faint smile flashed across his face, and he squeezed her around the shoulders gently.
"I think I'd like that, Padma."
They stood like that, together, for a long time.