Disclaimer: All rights belong to J.K. Rowling, author of the Harry Potter series, and DreamWorks, producer of Rise of the Guardians.
Warnings: future slash, meaning boyxboy
Hold Me When I'm Cold
Harry Potter hated winter. The nights were colder as he spent his time locked inside his cupboard with nothing but thin blankets. His limbs were always stiff and numb when he was startled awake to the sound of his aunt pounding on the wooden door, shrieking at him to start his morning chores. The rags he called clothes did nothing to shield the chilly air as he was forced to weed the garden. Visible vapor from his breath swirled and danced around him. The world was an ugly mixture of brown and white from the earth peeking out from below gradually growing snow. Once he was done with his work, his fingers and toes, which previously held a concerning slight blue tint, were an angry red from uprooting prickly weeds and standing in piles of frost all day. Trekking inside with his now damp clothes, after a stern order to not leave any residue behind, Harry was shoved into the bathroom where he was finally allowed to seek refuge from the cold. Turning the knob all the way to the other side, he shed his clothes and folded them neatly into a pile before carefully climbing into the tub. He watched the steam billow all around him and breathed in the warm air, soaking up as much of it as possible. Relaxing into the liquid fire until his skin was a bright shade of red and his fingers were all shriveled up, he ignored the fact that he stayed in there much longer than he should have. It was worth it, even if he was sent to his cupboard early with only a bruised apple for dinner.
Huddling into a dark corner, Harry burrowed into the sheets as much as possible, capturing any semblance of heat with his makeshift barriers. Yes, the brunet hated winter. It was cold and dark.
And lonely, he added silently as a bout of shivering took over his body.
But, something soon changed that. And that something came in the form of one Jack Frost.