x

BURN

Chapter Twelve:

The First Snow


ROSE

It's the last Hogsmeade trip of the term. The sun is setting quickly behind the mountains, shadowing the village in darkness. Twinkle lights flicker brightly above the town, strings and strands of various festive colors swoop down between buildings and Rose is mesmerized by its beauty.

There is more than a chill in the air, she thinks, as her knit-covered fingers intertwine with Scorpius'. They've only just left the Three Broomsticks, the festivities of term end will likely be celebrated long into the night. When they left, Roxy had caught Lorcan under the mistletoe.

There is music in the streets which are damp and slippery and Scorpius has already had to keep her from falling twice. They're laughing and smiling and Rose feels her stomach wretched with nerves because all she wants to say to him is I love you but the words won't come out so she rambles stupidly instead.

"You have no reason to be anxious about the gala," he says, when she tells him her strange behavior is due to the Malfoy's upcoming benefit at Sandwith Hall. "My father is raising funds for the International Magical Medical Research Cooperative. My sister has helped organize events that will keep them entirely occupied for the evening. You won't even have to mingle if you don't want to."

"My mum does benefits like this all the time," she says. "I've been to a few and I always end up having to talk to her associates. I guess it's just that your gala…"

"My father's gala," he corrects, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "Theodora's, really."

"Whatever," she teases. "I just imagine this gala being so overwhelmingly grand. I'm afraid I'll stick out like a sore thumb," she says and he chuckles lightly

"You haven't even seen it yet," he said with a laugh. "Theodora's aesthetic isn't as lavish as you might think. And I am sorry to inform you that you will absolutely stand out amongst the crowd, lovely as you are."

Heat rises to her cheeks and she squeezes at his hand.

She does recall Thea's dorm being tidy and concise. It was not as ornate as perhaps she had expected of a Malfoy. But perhaps she had been wrong about them all along. She had asked her mother about Sandwith Hall in passing and was told it was a manor that had been one of the few Greengrass estates she had not seen with her own eyes. But after some digging of her own, Rose found that Draco had moved into the estate not long after his engagement to Astoria, resigning his claim over Malfoy Manor.

But Malfoy Manor does not remain empty. Every so often she reads small columns in the gossip section about the Malfoy family. Though she desperately tries not to read such rubbish, her curiosity can often get the better of her. Lucius Malfoy became a recluse after the war, spending some time in Azkaban for crimes he had committed but was let out after seven years of incarceration as a reward for his family's defection. She knew next to nothing about Narcissa, only that her Uncle Harry had once spoken a kind word about her in passing.

"Will, erm…" she starts, glancing down at the ground. "Will your grandparents be there?"

His footsteps slow and they come to a slow halt. He turns towards her, glancing down and his brows are furrowed in confusion.

"Is that what you're worried about?" he asks her.

"Not worried, no. I just wondered. You never talk about them," she says and his eyes dance away from hers.

"I don't talk about them, Rose, because I rarely see them. My mother and father did not allow them to be a major part of our lives growing up. Once a year my father would begrudgingly call on my grandmother to visit us. I've only seen my grandfather a hand full of times, none of which were pleasant," he says and she nods, seeing the discomfort in his eyes and suddenly she wishes she never brought it up. "But they will absolutely not be there. They are not welcome in our home, especially after the way my grandfather behaves towards my sister."

"Your sister?" she asks, hearing the anger in his voice and he breathes in deeply, letting the breath fall slow and steady.

"Everyone heard the rumors years ago, about my sister, about the ridiculous notion that she could have been some sort of time-travelling bastard of Voldemort," he says and she cringes slightly at the name. She's heard these rumors, her parents often contemplated their truth as well, years ago. "No matter how many times it was disproved, my grandfather still wants to believe Theodora is a bastard. 'She doesn't look like a Malfoy,' he'd always say. My father stopped seeing him completely after that. Theodora took the rumors the hardest. But there is no denying she is my father's daughter," he says, chuckling on the last line and she gives him a sad smile in return.

"I'm sorry I brought it up," she says and he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry I have to talk about those things. About those people. I don't know them, and I don't want to know them. What they did was wrong and I'm not certain they're even all that sorry for it. I just hope," he says, looking down at her and grabbing both of her hands in his. "I hope you don't ever see me that way."

"Never," she says quickly, no pauses. "Never, Scorpius," she repeats.

They walk in silence for many moments after. There is an awkward void where there was once laughter and teasing. She remembers Roxy's words and thinks they'll make him smile as well.

"So, you'll never believe what Roxy thinks about Thea," she says, her voice light and the distant look in his eye fades as he raises his brows. "It's silly, but...she has this wild notion that Thea and James secretly fancy one another."

She's smiles when he lets out a loud laugh.

"Why in Dumbledore's name would she come to that conclusion?" he asks her, shaking his head. "My sister's distaste for James is well documented."

"I said the same thing. But she swears she saw them in the corridors last week, looking more friendly than combative."

"I tell her all the time to drop the act," he says. "Maybe she's finally listened."

"Act?" she asks and he rolls his eyes.

"Yes, this whole persona she creates, it's more of an exaggeration of who she really is," he tells her and Rose looks at him, eyes narrowing in thought. "Don't misunderstand, the incessant questions and sarcastic commentary is very much her personality. But the isolation, the way she plays into the rumors people make up about her, how everything seems bores her to tears. She's not like that when it's just us. She'd murder me for telling you that she's actually quite nice when she wants to be. Though I can see there's more. I know she's lonely."

"She says that?" Rose asks, feeling her heart sink.

"No, but I can tell. She has Albus of course but I suspect she's a bit jealous of people who make friends easily. Like the rest of us."

"I can see that," Rose says, contemplating. "But she acts like nothing affects her. You even said her most severe reaction is mild indifference."

"Yes well, that was partially true," he admits and she gives him a look of faux disappointment. "She doesn't want people to see that things bother her, even me. So it's hard to know what really goes on in that head of hers. Though, don't be surprised if over the holidays she seems to enjoy herself a little more than you're used to. She especially loves this time of year."

"Theodora Malfoy actually enjoys something other than taunting first years and baiting James into arguments?"

"You'd be surprised."

They both chuckle and she leans in closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as they walk. He's warm, and he smells of cedar and nutmeg. She closes her eyes, letting the music lull her into a peaceful reverie and she jumps slightly when she feels something light and cold on her nose.

"Is that?" Scorpius says and she opens her eyes, looking up at the sky.

White flakes, slow to start, float down from the clouds. Soon, they arrive quicker, more frequently and as they fall to the ground they do not melt away. Her smile is wide, as is his.

"Snow," she whispers.


ALBUS

"You had to tell her eventually."

"I know."

"Well? How did she take it? Isn't she coming with us to the village?"

Albus glances back at the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room and he sighs, shrugging in response. He hasn't wanted to tell Thea that he can't go the gala, the gala that she's been planning for months to exact specifications and the expectation that he'll be there was heavily implied. Now that he has told her, he feels instantly guilty.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Albus says and Lysander crosses his arms over his chest.

"That she come to the village?" he asks and Albus bites the inside of his cheek. Lysander frowns. "She said we were going to go ice skating."

"I can go ice skating," Albus says and Lysander shoots him a look.

"You hate ice skating, Albus," he says and Albus shrugs.

"Maybe, but I would go if it would make you happy," he says and Lysander's frown twitches at the edges.

"But it wouldn't be fun for you, which would not make me happy," says Lysander.

Two Slytherin girls walk by, donned in coats and scarves and they eye Lysander with predatory smiles and Albus feels his own frown deepen as well.

"Oh piss off," he mutters and the girls snicker, glancing once more over their shoulders at the blonde and while Albus is tempted to add a gesture with his hand, Lysander takes it in his own and shakes his head with a chuckle of his own.

"The 'jealous boyfriend' bit is hot, Al, but you have nothing to worry about," he says, pulling Albus down the corridor in the same direction. "Come on, we can find something exciting to do down at the village. You may not like ice skating, but there isn't a witch or wizard who doesn't love a bit of holiday cheer."

"Can that cheer be in the form of an alcoholic beverage?" Albus asks and Lysander smirks.

"That bad, was it?" he asks, referring to Thea and though Albus would prefer not to talk about it, he knows Lysander wants to know why Thea has bailed when the two of them had been planning their outing all week.

"She looks like hell," Albus says first and Lysander snorts.

"Well I hope you didn't start with that," he says.

"Why? She does."

"You didn't?" Lysander says and Albus shrugs. "You told your best friend she looked like hell right before you told her you weren't going to her party?"

"She didn't care."

"Maybe she didn't look like she cared but I'm sure she did. Unless of course the rumors are true and Thea doesn't actually have a soul."

"Is that a rumor?" Albus asks, mild interest piqued and Lysander nods. "Well, as an inside scoop, I can assure you she does have a soul, a soul that was not pleased with the fact that I told her I wasn't going to the gala. You should have seen her. I almost caved. But it's not like she'll have time to hang out with me anyways. And she would have forced me to dance, which I hate, so really you saved my life by dragging me away."

"Dragged you, did I?" he says, his grin widening. He wraps his arm around Albus and squeezes. "I recall it a bit differently."

"Who cares how it happened? I'm thankful, that's what matters."

"Sure," replies Lysander, leaning in and kissing him on the top of the head. "Word of advice, though? You may be her best friend, but probably refrain from pointing out when she looks like hell, in the future. You might have better luck."

"Right, flies with honey, all that," Albus recalls and they both break out into laughter.

It's snowing when they reach the grounds and there are actual patches of white on the ground when the make their way into the village. They pass Rose and Scorpius talking seriously about something and so neither has a mind to interrupt.

The Three Broomsticks is bustling with students and the bartenders are their usual form of annoyed as they serve the rowdy individuals to their prescribes limits. Albus isn't quite sure about the festivities when they arrive and briefly contemplates if maybe ice skating would have been the more preferred option after all.

"What do you want to drink?" Lysander asks and Albus settles on an ale and they part so Albus can find a place for them to sit.

Albus wades through the crowds, pushing himself through many teenagers who are now singing christmas carols at the tops of their lungs and snogging under well-placed sprigs of mistletoe. He finds a seat near the corner, the candlelight flickers slightly above due to the window that is cracked slightly and he closes it as he sits down. He doesn't notice Bas in the corner reading with a cigarette between his fingers until he's seated.

"Found a quiet place to read, did you?" he asks and Bas looks up from the page and smiles when he sees it's Albus.

"Eh, not much different than the common room really. All the first and second years are in there making a fuss about not being allowed to Hogsmeade. I can't really sympathize since when we were first years, James had Davy and I sneaking out with that old map," he says and Albus chuckles, knowing exactly what map he refers to and how James is always reluctant to share it.

"How is Davy?" Albus asks and Bas' smile only falls slightly as he takes a hit from the cigarette and shrugs.

"Doing as well as I can imagine," says Bas. "He's putting on a brave face but I know it's hard, especially with the holidays and all."

"Will he be back for next term?" Albus asks.

"I think so," says Bas. "James and I are going to take him to the city for the new year. Hopefully to help keep his mind off of things."

At James' name Albus looks around. Amongst the crowds of fifth, sixth and seventh years, he doesn't see his disheveled brother anywhere. He spots a brief view of Val and Preston, followed by Roxy and Lorcan. But even amongst the crowds of Gryffindors huddled around the bar, he doesn't see any sign of him.

"Did we miss James?" he asks and Bas looks up again from his book, shaking his head.

"Nah," he says. "The tosser left me to fend for myself after he finished up with detention."

"Detention!?" Albus says. It comes out as a groan. "Again?"

"Some fight with Preston Corner," Bas says, squinting. "I only caught the tail end of it so I don't know what started it but they'd resorted to shoves and one very well placed fist before Professor Longbottom sorted them out."

"I swear he lives in detention, these days," Albus mutters, shaking his head.

"Talking about your brother?" Lysander asks, holding three beers as he squeezes around a few patrons and sets them on the table. "I saw you were in need a refill," he says to Bas who nods his head in thanks.

"Cheers, mate!" Bas says, and the three of them lift their pints in a toast.

"James got detention for a punching Preston Corner."

"I'm sure that was probably deserved, actually," Lysander replies and Bas shakes his head as he takes a long gulp of the ale.

"Nah it was the other way around," Bas corrects. "James is sporting a pretty dark eye as well. McGonagall said he's prohibited from using healing spells as punishment." Albus chuckles at the thought. "Said he wasn't in the mood to come out after."

"He's seemed a bit strange, hasn't he?" Lysander asks. "Since quitting Prefects."

"I think he's realizing the year is ending faster than he thought," Bas says. "I know your dad's been putting a bit of pressure on him about next year."

"James doesn't want to take the auror's exam," Albus admits. "I think dad only suggested it to give him some direction."

"James' direction is far from auror training," says Bas, shaking his head. "Mate needs to go out and get away from it all, find himself or some shit."

The three of them erupt into laughter, clinking their glasses together again before Albus sips the amber colored liquid. He leans back in the booth, Lysander's arm around the back of him. Bas puts down the book and they talk for what seems like hours into the night. He feels a slight twinge of guilt when he thinks of Thea, alone in her dorms or packed into the library with her books and papers and hopes she isn't too upset.

Roxy and Lorcan join them when they've hit their serve limit at the bar. The group squeezes together and Albus' hand rests on Lysander's thigh. Their eyes meet occasionally, for long drawn out looks and he can feel his stomach flutter each time Lysander's fingers graze the back of Albus' neck.

It's late, when they emerge from the pub and the snow has come down enough that there is a now a white sheet over the ground. More students, stragglers like them, emerge as well, making their way back up the street towards the castle and he feels himself pulled from the steady flow of movement by Lysander. They're laughing, quiet chuckles in the darkness, as they follow a small path to a bridge that overlooks a stream nearby.

Lanterns line the ends of the bridge and the ledge is bewitched with sparkling lights. They stop at the bridges apex, looking out over the water of the small creek as ice forms on its outer banks. Snow flutters down upon their hair and faces and when he turns he sees Lysander is holding something above their heads. Albus can't help but laugh.

"Really?" he asks, trying to sound annoyed but his cheeks sting from the amount of laughter and mixed with the cold of the light breeze that propels the snow. "Mistletoe?"

"Indulge a hopeless romantic?" he asks, sticking his bottom lip out and Albus can't deny the beautiful blond, whose golden hair seems to sing in the light of the lanterns.

He leans in, pressing his lips against Lysander's. The kiss is tender, soft first and then grows more fervent when Albus places his hands on either side of his face, pulling him closer. Lysander's hand holding the mistletoe drops at some point because Albus feels his arm wrap around his waist, pulling him tighter.

The taste of whiskey on Lysander's lips reminds him of his loosened inhibitions and suddenly he doesn't feel as nervous to say what he's been thinking all night. He pulls away, placing his forehead against Lysander's as he catches his breath.

"I love you," he says and Lysander's eyes widen, rising from Albus' lips to his meet his own. Then they soften, and his lips curve up into an elated smile.

"You're not just saying that because you're drunk, are you?" he asks and Albus shakes his head.

"No, I've been wanting to say it for a while," Albus replies. "And I only had two pints. I'm not drunk."

"But you do love me?" Lysander asks and Albus snorts.

"Yes. I do."

"Good," he answers, kissing Albus abruptly. "Because I love you as well."

Albus is certain he is grinning like an idiot but he doesn't care as they stand there, laughing and kissing, exposed in the festive night air. The longer they stand there, the more flecks of snow cover their hair and faces and Albus decides maybe he doesn't mind the season as much as he thought.

If this is what the season is about, he's certain he doesn't mind at all.


JAMES

"This book is six weeks overdue, Mr. Potter," Madame Huynh says, glancing up at him from where she's seated and James attempts an apologetic smile which is returned by a disappointed shake of the head. "The next time you decide you need more time with the text, please see me so I can make appropriate adjustments to your lending period.

"Yes, Madame Huynh," he agrees.

"And if you plan on going out there," she says, referring to the small frozen lake when she eyes his ice skates, you had better make it quick. All upperclassmen should be in before eleven."

He nods, adding a quick wink that makes her do a double take before returning to a stack of papers on her desk.

There are only a handful of students in the library. Most are either roaming the streets of Hogsmeade or have gone to bed in order to be up early and catch the morning train back to King's Cross. James was not overly interested in either option as he left detention to finish packing for the trip home. When he found the overdue book sitting on his nightstand, he felt it was good enough reason to wander the halls at night.

He isn't sure that he'll find a certain sleeping brunette there, but he's not disappointed when he does. She's near the back of the library, a nook he's seen her in a number of times and he knows if anything, Theodora Malfoy is a creature of habit.

She has three books in a tidy stack to her right and two open books that are currently half covered by her arms and face as she sleeps on top of them. A few papers sit nearby and James' brow furrows when he sees one of them is a Herbology essay with a mere "Acceptable" printed on top. He remembers the essay and even James who fumbled his way through the majority of it in a post Halloween haze, managed an 'Exceeds'.

He doesn't recognize most of the books she's reading, most are about advanced potions though the thicker of the five is about sleeping spells. Her book bag is on the floor next to her feet and he notices a pair of laces hanging out of said bag that makes him wonder if they belong to a pair of ice skates like his own.

James glances around, seeing no one nearby after a first year makes his way towards the front, and crouches down at her side. He places his lips gently across the exposed skin of her shoulder, his jumper's collar spanning down her neck. She stirs slowly, I small smile on her lips as she turns her head towards him. Her mess of a bun makes him grin as it bounces when she moves. When her eyes blink open, she sits up quickly, searching the room for spectators only to find she's alone with James.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, quickly pushing her essay in between the pages of a book she closes and stacks underneath the other three.

"I was returning a book, of all things," he says lightly, watching her rub at her eyes and his eyes linger for a moment at the creases under her eyes. "What is it you're doing, exactly? Testing out spells on power naps?"

"Something like that," she says, sitting up and straightening her back.

She doesn't meet his gaze until her eyes rest on him and the crease in her forehead grows. She brings her hand up to his face, her small fingers gently grazing the spot below his eye and he flinches slightly, placing his hand over hers.

"Who beat you up, Potter?" she asks and her words are playful but her eyes still dance over the mark. "I'd like to send them a thank you."

"It's nothing," he tells her, pulling her hand gently away but he doesn't let go of it as it rests in her lap. "It's not like you're the only one allowed to hate me."

She smirks but it's small, like a whisper, before it disappears and she looks back down at the desk, pulling her hands from his. He can't tell her where he got the bruise because he doesn't want to explain - or maybe he's not sure how to explain - why he provoked Preston Corner. He was content to leave the sod alone after Thea made it clear that if she wanted the guy beaten to a pulp, she'd likely handle it on her own. But after a run in after class, something took hold of him when he saw that smug look on that bastard's face.

"Do you own a different jumper, or is that it?" he asks, changing the subject as he nods towards the oversized scarlet thing that he hasn't worn in months thanks to her and she pulls the loose fabric up over her shoulder from where it's fallen.

"I happen to like this one," she tells him, picking up her quill and scribbling something in the margins of her parchment.

She pretends to look busy and he can tell it's all for show because she's written the same few words again and again in different prints and she glances over at him when he continues to watch her. Her head falls to the side and she raises a brow as her scribbling comes to a pause.

"Was there something else?" she asks and he smirks, glancing around once more before he leans in, placing his lips against hers and there is a sound of surprise.

Her lips are slightly chapped and there is the taste of tea on her mouth as she relaxes, deepening the kiss and pulling him closer as she tugs on his scarf. She pulls away then, glancing around again and she shakes her head, sitting back into the bench and wipes her mouth gently with the back of her hand.

"This, is a terrible idea," she says in a strained whisper.

"It's not so bad," he says, still crouching with his hands resting on her black jeans. "No one is going to see us back here. Only nerds are in the library the day before going on holiday."

Her response is an exaggerated eyeroll.

"I'm serious. If Albus found out...it just…" she starts but is unable to finish at James' proximity and her words pause when he places his lips on her knee.

"It's fine," he says when he finally stands and she is quick to stand as well, hating the way her neck has to crane back up at him. "I was on my way out anyways," he tells her and she looks halfway relieved but also halfway disappointed as he turns to go.

"Are those, ice skates?" she asks quietly, glancing at the ties draped over his fingers and he nods.

"Mcgonagall froze the pond this morning but hardly anyone has been out there," he says and he watches as her foot toys with the edge of her book bag. "Did you want to go too?" he asks, glancing down at the bag and she lets out a snort that he assumes is supposed to sound insulted.

"I'm far too busy," she says, gesturing to the now one open text in front of her and her scribbled notes of the same three words. "And anyways it's not even…" she pauses to point for dramatic effect towards the window and her words trail off as she spots the white flecks of ice floating down from the night sky.

"Snowing?" he offers for her and she's still mesmerized by the falling powder. "It just started a few hours ago."

He starts walking again and feels slightly put out when he doesn't hear her move from her desk nook. He wraps his coat tighter around him, slipping on his gloves as he makes his way towards the small lake on the edge of the castle grounds. The lighted path leads the way and his skates dance back and forth with each step.

When he arrives at the lake, a small group of Ravenclaws are leaving in fits of laughter. There is a heavy sheet of snow surrounding the pond, and with the lights hung in the trees surrounding it, it has the feel of a winter wonderland. He wipes a thin layer of powdery snow from the nearby bench and slips on his skates, his laces tightening with the flick of his wand.

It's been awhile since the last time he's skated, that much is obvious as he nearly slips and falls on his bum. But a few strides in and he gets the hang of things and he starts rounding the pond, letting the snow stick to his face and hair.

He's rounding the pond for the seventh time when he sees a figure sitting on the bench and his abrupt stop nearly sends him flying. He smiles when he sees her sitting there, her boots sitting neatly on the bench next to her and she sits on her ungloved fingers, legs bouncing quickly.

"I thought you were far too busy?" he asks and she glances over her shoulder before looking back and him and shrugging.

"I figure even I deserve a break," she says matter-of-factly, her voice slightly muffled by her large emerald and grey scarf.

"Well?" he asks. "Are you just going to sit there chattering or are you going to get on the ice"

"I thought perhaps I should wait," she says.

"Wait for what, exactly?" he asks, skating towards her and she shifts.

"Until I can feel my hands," she says, a small laugh from behind the scarf and he shakes his head, skating closer until he can reach out his hand to her.

She stares at it for several moments before glancing back up at him.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she asks and he rolls his eyes.

"No one is going to see us out here," he says. "You didn't come all the way down here to watch me skate. Though, if you did, I would be flattered," he teases and she glances back over her shoulder one more time and groans as she places her hand in his.

He pulls her, too quickly at first because she nearly topples over as she finds her footing and her hand is clamped down to his. She squeals when she is unable to find her balance and so he grabs her other hand in his, pulling her so she is standing straight. He skates backwards and slows as she allows him to ferry her across the pond, her teeth clattering.

He stops sharply near the middle, chuckling lightly as she is forced to slide gently into him and she comes to a halt against his chest with a small 'oof'. He lets his eyes fall over hers as she stares up at him expectantly and he pulls her hands upwards, placing them between his two gloved ones as he then presses them against his mouth. Their gaze doesn't break as he blows gently against them, letting warm air pass through her cold fingertips that are resting on his lips.

"Christ, Malfoy. Don't you own a pair of gloves?" he whispers but she is staring at her hands against his mouth and doesn't answer. "You're hands are freezing."

"A gentleman would probably give me his gloves," she says, her voice low, licking her bottom lip as he watches her.

"I'm not a gentleman," he replies and though is voice is soft he can still see his breath between them.

"Finally something we can agree on," she says with a raised eyebrow and lets her hands fall to his chest where she softly pushes off and skates across the pond on her own.

They circle the ice in opposite directions, passing each other with silent stares. Her skating is no longer unbalanced as she gains speed, even daring a spin here and there and he tells her she is a show off. She only smiles, her eyes wild a she glides. He swears he sees them soften when her fingers graze his gloved ones.

"So," she says, not meeting his gaze as she circles him. He grabs hold of her waist, throwing her slightly off balance long enough that she is forced to stop. "How do we go back?"

"To the castle?" he asks and she looks up from where his hands are touching her.

"To how we were," she stresses. "The novelty of all of this is going to wear off soon. I want to know what we do when in does. Do we just go back to how things were before?"

The fun is ruined by the seriousness in her eyes and he can tell he won't be able to laugh it off this time as he'd done before. He toys with the belt loop on her trousers, wishing he had enough sense to stop finding her pink lips and windswept cheeks so alluring.

"I don't see why that's something we have to worry about right now," he says, pulling her towards him and she lets herself slide until they are flush.

"Because this has an expiration date," she tells him, her chest against his as she looks up at him, her neck hanging back in an exaggerated crane. "We're going on holiday for two weeks. Things could be different when we get back."

"And if they're not?" he asks, his hands moving down her hips and over her backside where he slips his hands into her back pockets. She closes her eyes and places her head against his chest.

"Then it happens sometime soon after. We'll both be facing quidditch and you'll have N.E.W.T.s. It's inevitable."

"Maybe," he says. "But I don't see myself going back to our daily verbal assaults after this."

"It would be easier to end it now, don't you think?" she asks and he sighs.

"This again?" he asks, the humor in his face fading as she pulls her head back and looks up. "Do you ever stop wanting to control things?"

"There is nothing wrong with being realistic," she says, with a shrug. "If we stop this now, things remain normal and you and I can be amicable acquaintances and move on with our lives in peace. If we wait, who knows what kind of issues will arise."

"So you'd prefer to end this now? Right now."

"As I said, it would be easier."

"This is just sex, Malfoy," he says, his lips curling at the corners. "It's only as complicated as you make it. That being said, if you really want to stop this, we'll stop. But we're both adults here, and I think we are both capable of expressing what we want. And right now, I'm sorry, but I'm not thinking about how we're supposed to behave when we have some sort of theoretical falling out." She shifts slightly against him. "If you're telling me that you'd rather politely go our separate ways, than go back up to the castle and find a dark corner where I can be inside of you, then fine, I accept that. But I can see it in your eyes right now, and I don't think that you want this to be over yet, either." Her eyes dance away for a moment before finding their way back and her hands slide underneath his coat. He can feel how cold they are through his jumper. "Is that what you want Thea? To act like we're strangers? Do you want me to pretend that I haven't kissed my name off your lips while you've cum?"

She doesn't seem to have a witty comeback, or any comeback, as she stands there so near to him as her eyes search his. He can see her mind working, her thoughts protesting in conflicted agony. She's still touching him and he's holding her against him because despite his words he isn't quite sure how he'll let go if she decides to end it now.

James' words are ringing in his head and he wants her. He wants her mouth, the sound of her moans as she rides him. He wants that arch in her back, the curve of her breasts in his hands. He wants her so desperately that his hands begin to shake slightly as the silence grows between them.

"Just sex," she says, finally speaking. "That's all."

"That's all," he agrees and she nods once before pulling back and skating towards the edge of the pond. His brow furrows as his eyes follow her. "Where are you going?"

She glances back over her shoulder as she climbs back onto the snow covered earth and sits down on the bench, undoing her laces.

"To find a dark corner," she says, looking up at him. "Or were all those words just for dramatic effect?"

James is so taken aback that he slips as he tries to hurry forward and this time he isn't able to maintain his balance as he falls directly onto his arse.


THEA

For the first time since first year, Thea rides the Hogwarts Express alone as she leaves for holiday break. It's by choice, of course, and despite several attempts to guilt her into sitting with a group of Hufflepuffs, she opts for the empty compartment at the end while Albus rides with Lysander.

Even Lucy Weasley is occupied with several students her own age and Thea is left to find a seat further down where Albus promises to check on her later. There are two third years in a compartment towards the end of the train and Thea gives them a simple glare that forces them from their seats where she can sit in peace.

Magnus is her only company, in the silent compartment, and she is briefly visited by the tea trolley where she collects a cup of Earl Grey. The tea warms her as she glances over the gala itinerary, eying every detail for the hundredth time. She scratches out the Minister for Magic. Her father's last letter mentioned receiving Mrs. Granger-Weasley's regrets after another attack in the city made her attendance impossible during the ongoing investigation. And she has to rearrange seating when she receives a late RSVP from the head of the Medical Research Committee from St. Mungos.

She's nearing the bottom of her tea when she hears the compartment door slide open and she doesn't look up when she simply says, "Keep moving."

"Can't even stop in to give your your Christmas gift?" a voice asks from the door and she glances up in surprise when she sees James.

He's wearing one of his lazy smirks and a grey jumper that suits him more than his school uniform. His hair is a mess but she decides that it suits him as well. She attempts not to remember their midnight tryst in the dark. She fails as she feels her thighs squeeze together, the images rushing back to her.

She clears her throat to bring her back to reality.

"It's not your penis, is it?" she asks and the corners of his lips curl at the ends.

For the first time she notices the small box in his hands, wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. He glances downwards briefly.

"No, that's still attached, I think," he says.

Magnus shifts at her side, taking notice of James and he stands and stretches as he lets out a long 'meow.' They both watch as he jumps down, prowling towards the door and rubbing against James' leg. James crouches down, chuckling, as he indulges the cat, petting his black fur. Magus' back arches and Thea shakes her head when she hears him pur.

"So what's this about a present?" she asks and James' attention turns from Magnus to her and he holds that package up again. "Any particular reason why?"

"I dunno, it's Christmas. Isn't that reason enough?" he replies.

He walks over then, letting the compartment door click as it closes on its own from behind him. He sits across from her, resting his elbows on his long legs as he leans in towards her and places the gift in her lap. She stares at it, her brow furrowed and mouth in a straight line.

"Not the usual reaction from someone being handed a present," he says. "It's not a big deal or anything."

"I just, I've never gotten a Christmas present before," she says, shrugging as she tows with the poorly tied twine bow. Magnus paws curiously at the wrapping.

"What do you mean you've 'never gotten a Christmas present?' As in, ever?" he asks and she nods.

"Not since I can remember at least," she tells him. "My family doesn't do Christmas gifts."

"That's...not what I would have expected," he admits.

"And what exactly did you expect?" she asks, looking up at him from under her lashes, attempting to hide a smile. He rubs the back of his head, his messy curls bouncing.

"Dunno. Mounds and mounds of presents, I suppose," he tells her, laughing in attempt to hide his embarrassment.

She stares down at the gift again.

"I didn't get you anything," she tells him and his grin widens.

"That's ok. As I said, it's not really a big deal," says James and they both watch as Magnus toys with the twine, in his own world of entertainment. "Well? Go ahead it won't bite."

Thea tears at the paper slowly, loosening the adhesive on either side and he shakes his head at her methodology. She then pushes the paper aside, much to Magnus' amusement, and pulls the lid to the box open to find a pair of scarlet knit socks, well-crafted and warm against her skin. She holds them up, her eyebrow rising.

"You knit, Potter?"

"And why not?" he says with a chuckle, leaning back into the seat. "It's not so difficult. And anyways, I figured since it's clear you won't be giving me my jumper back any time soon, you might want a pair of those to match."

"Your jumper?" she asks, eyes wide as she glances back down at the scarlet knitted thing and then back up to him.

He winks, standing from his place on the seat across from her and starting towards the door.

"Happy Christmas, Malfoy."


A/N: So I wanted to send a huge thank you to all of you who have followed, favorited and reviewed this story. I thoroughly enjoy writing it! You all give me so much motivation to continue and I'm so thankful every time I get one of those notifications. Love to you all!