Disclaimer: I don't in any way profit from this story and all the creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator, JKR.
draco and ginny can be considered ooc, but not severely.
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"Weasley!" Draco Malfoy called out, his breath coming out in a puff of white. He followed at a quick pace behind Ginny, not quite willing to run through the deep snow in order to catch up to her.
Ginny spun on her heel and turned to face him.
"Malfoy." She said, nodding and greeting him. Treading backward through the thick, white powder in order to stay facing him she snidely added, "You seem to be enjoying the snow."
He scowled at her, clearly not enjoying the snow in the very least.
Forcing herself to ignore the part of her that wanted to watch Draco suffer through chasing her to catch up, Ginny came to an abrupt stop and waited for him where she was.
Still looking irritable, Draco closed the distance between them and the pair began making there way down the pathway.
"Snow is nice, if you ask me." Ginny said, fondly looking up at the dark, clouded sky and admiring the bulky flakes that were tumbling down from the clouds.
Draco looked up to, not quite seeing the beauty in the frozen rain. "The weather is working against me." He muttered simply, tucking his chin and slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat in one fluid motion.
"You and snow have a lot in common. You're both bitter and cold." Ginny remarked, smirking at him.
"That's where similarities end though. I'm charming and irresistible," Ginny rolled her eyes at his pompous attitude. "Snow is neither. Snow is just wet and soggy."
"You're forgetting beautiful and romantic and unforgettable." Ginny replied, then after a moment of scrutinizing Draco she added, "You're right, you two aren't really alike."
"I'm insulted." His eyes glistened, his frosty mood having dissipated.
"Well. To be fair you're probably capable of the romantic part. You just prefer being soulless and callous."
"Watch your step, Weasley, or you might realize just how romantic I can be." He growled, a suggestive, teasing edge to his tone.
"Surely not as romantic as the snow." She argued, looking up, she was momentarily awe-struck by the infinite amount of snowflakes that were making their descent from the sky.
Draco looked up as well, each flake was illuminated against the black night sky. It was almost a little bit nice. Not quite though.
When he looked back down again, Weasley had her eyes on him, a soft look on her face. "It's only natural that you like snow a bit more than you let on." She noticed. "After all, you two are so much alike."
She held out her hand to him, and he pulled his own out of his pocket, intertwining his gloved fingers with hers. The warmth crawled up his arm, seeping into his brittle, frost-bitten bones.
"And just like snow," She whispered, leaning into him, "You can be melted."
