Draco stared hard at the falling snow, memorizing the pattern of falling flakes in the swirl of wind.
"You know, mate, you can't make it melt by staring at it," Blaise laughed, taking a drag on his cigarette.
"Who said I wanted it to melt?" Draco muttered, glancing sidelong at Blaise.
The two men were huddled against the wall of the castle, just out of the way of the whipping winter wind. Draco tugged absently at a dragon hide glove, adjusting the sleeve of his thick black cloak.
"You're glaring daggers at it. Last time I saw you glower like that, it didn't end well. I think Pansy locked herself in her manor for a week," Blaise chuckled. "Are you sure you don't want one?" He pulled a silver cigarette case from the pocket of his charcoal grey cloak and flicked it open.
Draco shook his head and sighed, pursing his mouth in a dissatisfied frown. The topmost button of the cloak was undone, and a tightly knotted black scarf peeked out, contrasting with his pale skin. A sudden gust of wind brought a few innocent flakes swirling into their little corner, and Blaise brushed the bits of ice from his eyelashes with the back of his hand.
"You know you don't need to be out here with me," he said seriously, turning so that he could see Draco's angular profile against the dark stone of the castle.
"I'd rather be here than in there. The decorations in the Great Hall make me ill, not to mention all those bloody cheerful students." The tall blond hunched his shoulders forward and leaning back against the rough stone, studying his boots. Locks of almost snow-white hair drifted down across his forehead.
Blaise looked out at the whirling blizzard. The flakes were so thick and wild that the greenhouses across the courtyard were invisible. He took a final drag and threw the fag onto the ground. It went out with a tiny sizzle in the banking snow.
"Well, I'm going back in. Daphne promised to spend a moment with me under the mistletoe in the Great Hall before we head home."
The dark haired man slid his gloves back on and turned toward the castle doors.
"I hate Christmas."
Blaise turned back to face his friend. He sighed heavily.
"Draco, why don't you ever spill this kind of thing before I finish my fag?"
The blond ignored him and continued to stare pensively out at the snow.
"Fine, mate. Why do you hate Christmas? Is it Ginny? She's taking Natalia home for the hols, isn't she?"
Blaise watched Draco stare for a long moment. His jaw was firm and his lips were pressed into a cold line, pale in the chill.
"I…never mind. Let's go in. It's fucking cold out here and someone is going to miss us."
Blaise watched Draco carefully for another long moment, comfortable with the pressure the silence placed on his friend. Draco finally sighed and stood up, nodding at Blaise to follow him indoors.
--
The Great Hall was bustling and positively vibrant, with cheery music coming from charmed instruments in every corner, bright snow falling from the celing, and gaily decorated trees lining the walls. The students gathered in clusters all around the room, finishing the remnants of the Christmas feast and waiting for the snow to clear so that the Hogwarts Express could leave.
Ginny Weasley found it all irritating. She scanned the crowd of students, wondering what it was about Christmas that made everyone so damnably happy. She pushed through a crowd of jocund Hufflepuffs and finally spotted a head of frizzy brown hair in the midst of a group of rather whiny looking first-years.
"Step lively, now! Your belongings are sorted and on the train, and as soon as the blizzard ends we'll send you on your way," Hermione paused and eyed the small students sternly. "If one more student asks to see me turn their trunk into an animal—any animal—I will personally ensure that they spend time in the Headmaster's office!"
"Hermione!" Ginny called, wobbling slightly as a group of third years passed by. Hermione spotted her, looked surprised, and then shrugged ruefully.
"Ginny! What on earth are you doing here?" Hermione stepped over the seated children and ran a hand through her loose hair tiredly.
"I'm looking for Natalia. She's coming home with me for Christmas this year, and I thought we'd travel together."
"That's all you are looking for?" Hermione said quietly, raising her eyebrows.
Ginny gave her friend a dark look.
"Yes, Hermione. That is quite all."
Hermione sighed, "Well, I haven't seen her anywhere in this mess. Did you check her Common Room?"
Ginny frowned and bit her lip.
"I'd rather not. I really hate going down there. I might run into Snape or someone."
Hermione blushed crimson, a fact that Ginny did not miss. She arched an eyebrow at her friend and grinned.
"Unless, that is, you'd rather run into him yourself?"
Hermione nervously swept her bushy hair back again, revealing bright red ears.
"I can't, Ginny, unless you want to stay with the first years. Snape is not likely to be down there anyway—in fact, I think he's still in his office. He hardly ever goes down to the dungeons anymore."
Ginny eyed the group of eleven-year-olds warily and idly tugged on her left sleeve, adjusting the cuff of her expensive cloak. She looked at the children, then at her friend, then back again. One of the children was prodding another with his wand, and the unfortunate girl looked ready to cry.
"I think I'll risk it."
Hermione gave her another small smile.
"You realize he's not the only one you might run into down there."
Ginny tossed her red hair away from her shoulders and gave Hermione an oblique look.
"I'm not scared of him."
--
Draco stalked into the Slytherin Common Room, stripping off his gloves as he stepped out of the passageway. He ran a hand through his hair, combing the white-blonde locks away from his face with practiced finesse. He gazed around the room, grateful that in here the holiday decorations were limited to green tapers in tall silver candlesticks. Sitting down slowly on a black leather couch in front of the fireplace, he stared at the flames. The slow grate of the stone door made him turn slightly.
"Hello, Draco," Ginny said, keeping her eyes high and her voice strong and civil.
"Ginevra," he acknowledged, slowly inclining his head.
"Before you say anything, I'm aware that I'm not supposed to be in here. Natalia gave me the password. I've been trying to find her and I thought she might be down here. You remember that she's coming home with me this Christmas?"
Ginny fought to keep her voice steady, carefully avoiding his eyes. She felt the flood of emotions breaking against the iron mask of calm that she had worn so carefully all day, but she stood resolute, eying the flickering of an emerald taper and waiting for his reply.
He stood slowly and focused on balling up his leather gloves. He felt weary, and seeing her standing there, in front of him, made something sharp come alive in him—something living, breathing, and achingly painful.
"How could I forget, Ginevra? I haven't seen her around here, but I'll go find her. Shall I tell her to meet you in the Great Hall? I assume you are not planning to take the train with the students."
Ginny nodded and looked up without thinking about it. Their eyes fastened for an infinite moment. Silver pooled into amber and sought out the sorrow; brandy fought with mercury's ache.
Then he sighed and she found the flame of the candle again.
"Yes. Fine. I'll be by the main doorway."
She turned curtly and exited the room, and Draco promptly hurled his gloves in her wake. The tide of emotions now ran the gamut between from the nuisance of having to track down a missing girl to white, blind range that resembled the furious snow outside.
Turning on the heel of an expensive black boot, Draco strode off into the corridors of the Slytherin dungeons.
He reached Natalia's room in minutes and rapped on the door three times. When no one answered, he gave another perfunctory knock and was rewarded with a muffled sound from within.
"Natalia, it's me. You have three seconds or I'm knocking the door down, and you better believe that I don't give a damn about your privacy."
He heard muffled voices and a quick scrambling, and then the door opened a crack. A sharp-eyed blonde poked her head out into the hallway and glared at him defiantly.
"What is it?" she drawled, clearly annoyed. "I'm really busy packing, you know."
Draco arched an eyebrow and gazed at the young sixth year calculatingly.
"Oh, really? Then you won't mind if I come in, will you?"
"No," she answered quickly, "the whole place is an absolute disaster. You don't want to come in here. Clothes everywhere."
She waved him away with a careless gesture, but Draco smiled sweetly and lowered an eyebrow, which gave him a disarming yet dangerously menacing appearance.
"Clothes everywhere? Maybe I can help you sort it all out, love. Maybe while I'm at it I can find you a tie and some buttons to sew back on that top, hm?"
Natalia glanced down, eyes wide. Her hastily thrown on sweater was unbuttoned just enough to reveal a rather disheveled white blouse, buttons awry. Draco took advantage of the distraction and pushed the door open with a strong arm, ignoring the pleading glare from Natalia's eyes.
"Hello, Master Nott," Draco said darkly.
"Teddy was helping me—" cut in Natalia, but Draco silenced her with a look cold enough to freeze hell.
"I'm going to deal with you in just a moment, love," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the cowering boy sitting on her bed. "I see you have some mistletoe, Mr. Nott."
The young man glanced at the offending sprig and nodded slowly.
"Are you aware, Mr. Nott, that mistletoe is poisonous?" he let the words fall like ice. "Deadly poisonous."
The boy shook his head violently.
"Perhaps we should see if this is true? Maybe you should have a bite? I'm sure that we can get you to the hospital wing in time…unless, of course, you acquired this from the forbidden forest, in which case you'd have just seconds."
Slowly, Draco broke off a few of the waxen white berries and held them to Nott.
"Just…seconds," he whispered icily.
Natalia began to protest and Draco shot her another look. Nott was quivering slightly, and he opened his mouth only to shut it again. Draco snapped his hand closed around the offending berries and glared down at the imbecile.
"I suppose I won't kill you. Yet. But I will send an owl to your father, and he just might. Now, get the hell out of here."
Nott scrambled out of the room and Draco rounded on Natalia, who was sitting on top of her trunk, sulking.
"How long has this been going on? And how far?"
Natalia flushed pink and yanked on the sleeve of her sweater in a pathetic attempt to cover her abused blouse. She stared at the ground sullenly, picking up a silver and green tie and slowly tying it around her neck.
"Like I would tell you."
"Oh, of all the people you might tell, you will tell me."
She looked up at him, suddenly defiant, but he turned his head, matching her glare evenly.
"Well, I guess I can be glad I'm not spending Christmas with you at your stupid fancy manor then," she hissed, tucking her white blonde hair behind her ear.
Slowly, Draco leaned over until his face was inches from hers. Mercury eyes met deep brandy, and he didn't miss the flash of fear that flitted across her face.
"Like I'm not going to have a little chat with your mum."
--
A/N: Thoughts?
Natalia is an Italian name that mean's Christ's birthday (uhhhh, that would be Christmas). If you read Il Dragone, you'll know that's a nod to Rowan Greenleaf, though I hope her characters don't end up here.
Inspired by DG Christmas Challenge by fic-princess at RowanGreenleaf's DG Forum.
Ginny