I couldn't help but notice there weren't very many Polly/Digory fanfictions out there. This is something I find quite saddening, since they are my favorite pairing. I'm cool with all your innocet one-shots, but I would like to introduce something with a little bit more meat. Don't get me wrong, it's still going to be innocent-ish, but it will be multi-chapter. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

Standard disclaimer applies because I'm not cool enough to come up with a witty one.

Polly didn't mind the snow. If anything, she liked it. But she would never go so far as to say she loved it, like Digory did. She despised his passion for the common form of precipitation, only because it annoyed her that anyone could love something so trivial.

"Come on, Polly! It's too exciting out there for you to stay in here and read like that." A wet and snowy Digory said excitedly as he stood in the door way.

"Get out of my house right now, Digory Kirke." She demanded. "Mother just cleaned these floors and she won't be none to happy if she finds out you soled them with your dirty snow."

"Ah Polly, come off it. You and I have done worse things and your mother didn't even notice."

"That's because she just made me clean it later. Besides, I don't want to go. I'd rather read here, where I'm nice and warm."

Digory looked at his old friend with casual suspicion. He toyed briefly with the thought of marching over to her, grabbing her arm, and forcing her into the snow, but he knew she'd react very strongly to that. She'd whack him over the head and lock him outside so he couldn't get back in to bother her again. He knew this, because that's exactly what she'd done on Tuesday when he tried it the first time. He was only just now allowed back into the Plummer home, and he didn't want to abuse his rights so quickly.

Besides, Mrs. Plummer was going to make hot cider, and he wanted to be here for that.

However, he was more focused on contemplating the change in her. He remembered when they went to Narnia. It was ages ago, nearly four years. They still talked about it, but Polly had almost gotten withdrawn about it. She'd grown up actually, but Digory didn't want to think of it in that way. He'd preferred to think of it as going dull. And that's just what Polly was these days; dull.

"Fine. I'll go on outside alone. I think I see Ronald Williamsby anyway…" Digory didn't actually see his chum anywhere, but he knew Polly despised the boy. He was hoping to provoke her into convincing him to stay or maybe come outside.

"That's nice. Go have fun with your friend." She muttered, staring at her book, sounding an aggravating amount like his mum.

He gave her one last look before marching outside, pulling his hat down over his ear, and diving head first into a drift of snow.

He hadn't been in there long when he heard Polly call his name. In a moment of absurd hope, he popped up.

"Mother say's the cider's ready if you want some." She announced in a plain way. He looked at her and noticed that she was shivering.

"Yeh, I'll be there in a minute. You go inside."

She looked at him gratefully before going back in and closing the door behind her. He stood up and shook as much of the snow off of his coat and breeches as possible, then marched up to the door. He walked in and received his cup from Mrs. Plummer eagerly and followed her suggestion to sit in the parlor by the fire with Polly. He walked in to see her reading her book as before, but this time she didn't demand he leave the house. She just directed her eyes towards the chair opposing her and he sat down, in spite of the fact that knew he was making the nice chair soaking wet. So instead of settling into it like he wanted to, he perched uncomfortably on the edge.

"What are you reading?" He asked after a long moment of silence.

"Umm, nothing." She shook her head, but looked up at Digory anyway, hiding the pages of the book. There was no embellishing on the book itself to indicate it's contents, so Digory couldn't tell what she had in her hands to be embarrassed about.

"No really, I want to know. Maybe I might be interested." He craned his neck to see more, but she blushed.

"I'm pretty sure you won't be interested." She said sardonically.

"Why? Is it something for school? Bloody awful of them to assign you something when term is over for the holidays."

"No, it isn't exactly for school…" Polly grimaced.

"Is your mother making you read it? I suppose I could just ask her what you're reading then…"

Polly paled. "Oh no, don't ask momma! She doesn't know… er, care what I read."

Digory took a sip from his cider calmly. He made a show of settling back into his chair somewhat, and set his cider on a nearby table. "All right then, if you really don't want to tell me…"

"Thank you." Polly relaxed visibly and released her tight grip on the book. He looked at her for a second.

"I'll just have to find out for myself!"

Before she could process exactly what he meant my that, Digory had jumped up and taken the book from her grasp and run to the other side of the room, reading the page in front of him.

"Cordelia fought back, but the strength of the Duke was too much for her, the charm of the Duke over powered her, and she couldn't maintain her resistance… She allowed him to kiss her bosom and while the fear of him was still solidly maintained, she succumbed to his villainous ways and manly desires. Oh yuck!" Digory tossed the book back at Polly, who had been standing with a sheepish and embarrassed expression on her face. Seeing the book tumbling through the air, she yelped and dove after it, catching it by the cover. She examined the binding for any tears, and finding none she satisfactorily put the book under her arm.

"That was cruel, Digory Kirke." She said, sticking her nose into the air and becoming the Polly who hated snow. Digory was still disgusted by what he'd just read and didn't notice.

"Why are you reading that? It's awful." He sneered.

"If you must know, Susan Jenkins in 11th year said I had to. She told me to read it over the holiday and then tell her what I thought of it." Polly muttered glumly.

"And why do you read it when it's so terrible?" He asked. "Just because an upper classman told you too?"

"No! She's my friend! She's every bodies friend. I thought…" She was suddenly quiet.

"What?" He asked her carefully. He knew how volatile she was sometimes.

"I thought maybe everyone would like me too if I read her book…"

Digory suddenly didn't know how to respond. "I like you." Was all he could muster.

"Oh, I don't care about…" She threw her hands up to her mouth. "Oh no! No, I didn't mean that!"

Digory had a blank look on his face. "Sure… I know you didn't mean to say it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Polly defended, hurt by his tone and insinuation.

"Come off it Polly, you've been treating me low since I got here for the winter holiday. Even without you saying it, I could tell." He snapped.

"That's not true! You're the only friend I have who knows everything about me!" She cried.

"Bloody hell, Polly, I don't know the first thing about you now! I only know the you that went with me to Narnia and helped destroy Jadis and flew on the Pegasus with me. I know the you who went to the candy shop with me every Tuesday to buy licorice for mum, and I know the you who would play in the snow. But I certainly don't know you!"

"Digory! I'm right here!"

"The Polly I know wouldn't read this smut of a book just because she wanted to be popular."

The last remark stung. Polly felt her heart fly into her mouth and she bit back her tears. How could she know who she really was when her best friend couldn't even tell her. Who was he to tell her who she was anyway? What if this just was Polly Plummer? People change, and that's a fact, she thought.

"I like it." Polly growled.

Digory seemed taken aback. He thought for sure the last gibe would make her crumble, not fortify. "Why?"

"Because it's interesting and new." She sniffed.

"It's awful!" He protested. "I'm sure your mum would hate it."

Polly didn't know quite what to say to that one. She sat and thought for a second before she finally admitted her defeat. Looking at the book, she imagined what might have happened in the room if those 243 pages bound in leather hadn't been there. Perhaps Digory would have told her how fetching she looked in her new, blue dress. She would have thanked him and asked him how his cider was. He would have told her it was just fine, and thanked her for it. She would blush demurely, but then tell him it was really her mother's praise. Perhaps they could have had a nice, normal conversation about his plans for Christmas and where they would spend New years. Perhaps they wouldn't have had such a row.

She looked at the book and thought about how unhappy it had made her. Then, without thinking about it too hard, she flung it into the fire place.

Digory looked at her in shock as she stood up to grab a poker and push it deeper into the flames. She made sure the whole thing was on fire before backing away, but before she did, she could have sworn she saw the face of a lion in the flames for a split second, roaring his approval.

Now Digory had a chance to look at Polly as his friend, and he smiled.

"I like your dress Polly. Did you get it from your grandmother's closet?" He teased.

"Oh hush up. Do you want more cider?"

"I don't know… it's kinda grainy."

"Hey!" She protested.

"Alright, yes. I would love some more cider." He held his cup out to her, but she just laughed in response.

"Get it yourself, lazybones. You know where the kitchen is."