Christmas at home seemed to pass by in a whirlwind of tinsel and figgy pudding. Practically all of it was spent either in the kitchen, or at the dining table devouring the treats we hade made in said kitchen. I barely left the house at all except to go grocery or gift shopping. Even though I had brought my parent a few sweets from Honeydukes and a few odd trinkets, there was nothing there I could get them that wouldn't give off the appearance of magic to anyone else who might see it. We still had a good laugh trying out the bizarre candies from Hogsmeade, the most extreme of which would make you breathe smoke out of your nostril for an hour, the more temporary ones turning your skin lilac for a couple of minutes. Christmas dinner was almost as grand as the feasts at Hogwarts- a large, plump turkey as the centerpiece and a half dozen little side dished crammed onto the table. Although I couldn't write them that often, I still received plenty of letters from Steph, Emma, and Lucas, describing the fun they had been having and all the freshest gossip. Steph, in a particularly heavy letter that took Freya several owl treats to recover from, gave me a blow by blow account of an extremely violent snowball fight that had broken out on the grounds, in which she emerged victorious.

The weather grew very cold very quickly, and on the morning of December 23rd, we had our first snow of the season. I loved snow- love, love, loved it. The way it settles on the ground, coating everything in a pristine blanket. Within minutes of waking up, I had wriggled into my heavy winter coat and dashed outside. Fluffy white flakes were still falling from the sky, perching on my hat and clinging to my eyelashes. Everything was quiet, as though someone had cast muffilato over the whole town. I shuffled through the tranquil streets, head upturned towards the gray sky obscured with clouds, letting my thoughts stray for a while until my toes got so cold they hurt. I was closer to the library than I was to home, so I ducked inside to warm up for a few minutes. I sighed in relief as I was enveloped in a cushion of warmth. Shedding my coat to acclimate to the heat, I wandered along the shelves, running my finger along the spines. I was used to thick, heavy books filed with magic, and I couldn't help but feel disappointed when I took one off the shelf and it felt like a feather in my hands. Still, I tucked a couple of paperbacks under my arm and rummaged through my pocket for my wallet. I was almost always forgetting to bring my wallet with me anymore, because I was so used to not needing it, but this time I found it tucked in the pocket of my sweater. Fishing out my old library card, I made my way to the checkout.

As I was walking, I heard a clatter and a crash. Parker was sprawled on the floor, book cart tipped on it's side. There were books scattered all over the carpet. He saw me looking and blushed. "Um, hi." He scrambled to his feet, flushed in the face, and began picking up his mess.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, I just wasn't looking where I was going."

I stooped to pick up the fallen cart. It squeaked in protest as I wheeled it over to where Parker knelt, his arms overflowing. After unloading all of the books onto the little metal shelves, he straightened and cleared his throat awkwardly. "So- er- how was school?"

"Oh, it was alright. A lot of homework. I bet you have a lot, too," I said evasively, trying to steer the subject away from Hogwarts.

"Yeah." Parker stuffed his hands in his pockets. Shuffled his feet. "So, when do you get back?"

"About a week from now."

"Cool."

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry," I blurted. I could instantly feel the heat rising in my face, but I plowed on despite Parker's expression of extreme discomfort. "I really meant it, you know. I like you. But it can't work, no matter how hard we try, so I think it's just best- to stop. This." I faltered, uncertain of how he would react. I meant every word I said, but it didn't change the fact that I was lying to his face. About why I couldn't be with him, because our worlds were just so different, and how there was so much he could never know.

His face was blank and impossible to read. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just thought I should tell you."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"You've told me."

I felt myself growing irritated by his lack of response. "Is there anything you want to say?"

"Nope."

"Fine." I stormed from the library, and into the icy streets, still burning with anger. I mean, why didn't he say anything? Anything? I know this can't be easy for him, but it's not easy for me, too. I'm just doing what's best for us both. And his infuriating one-word answers! I'm getting tired of them. I huffed angrily, breath clouding in the freezing air. Doesn't he get what I'm trying to do? I realized I had left behind the books I was going to check out, but I didn't bother to go back for them, instead stomping through the drifts of snow all the way back home.

"Kat!" shrieked Emma, nearly knocking me over with her embrace. "You're back! How was your Christmas?" I had just made my way into the Great Hall, shivering from the cold and in the process of pulling off my gloves, when Emma had dashed over from the Ravenclaw table where she was finishing breakfast, and flung her arms around me in excitement.

"Great! I have your gifts," I replied, holding out a parcel wrapped in green sparkly wrapping paper. She squealed as she tore away the paper to reveal a box of deluxe sugar quills and a pair of tall socks that would change color with your mood. "Aw, Kat, you're so sweet!" she exclaimed, squeezing the life out of me once more. "Your presents are by your bed. So, what did you do over Christmas? Did you go anywhere? Oh, you'll never guess what happened, I have to show you something!" She grabbed my wrist and dragged me along after her, up the stairs and into our dormitory. Opening her drawer, she whipped out a bottle of Sleekeazy's hair potion and showed me. "Um, okay," I said, taking the bottle. "I'm a little lost. Context, please?"

"I got it for Christmas."

"Cool," I said, turning over the bottle. "Um, I'm still confused."

"I got it for Christmas from Lucas," she said. "Normally he gets me stuff like Honeydukes or a Holyhead Harpies poster or something. This is the first time he's ever gotten me anything nice! And this, too!" She whipped out a fancy-looking quill, creamy white with flecks of dark brown. "He got me this! Does it mean anything?"

"Oh..." I took the quill in my hand. "I don't know. What did you get him?"

"Quidditch Through the Ages and some Zonko's stuff."

"Ah."

"I know! So I'm thinking maybe I should get him something else. Something nice."

"Okay, what did you have in mind?"

"Well, there were some really nice looking brass potion scales I thought he might like..."

"Do you like him?" I interrupted.

"What?"

"Lucas. Do you like him?"

Emma blushed. "I don't know. I mean..." she trailed off. "I think so?"

I took another look at the quill and hair potion in my hands. "Well, I think he might like you. You should ask him to the Three Broomsticks or something next Hogsmeade trip! They have one for Valentine's day, if you're feeling bold."

"You think?"

"Yes! You guys have known each other forever, so it won't have the same awkwardness of a first date. I think you should go for it!"

Emma grinned widely. "Thanks, Kat! You're the greatest."

"Don't mention it. Tell me everything, okay?"

So, school continued on. I found myself spending more and more time out wandering the snowy grounds, vast fields of glittering snow. It had been snowing very heavily, and at one point Cho even canceled quidditch practice because the conditions were blizzard-like. You know it was bad if Cho was willing to cancel practice. But despite this one blip in the schedule, we had been training as hard as ever. Invigorated by our swift victory against Slytherin, the team had been spending hours on end doing reps, even as the bitter wind bit through our poorly insulated uniforms. It paid off, however, because we were on a streak that could see no end. We had won the last three games in a row, bringing us to first place! This also meant that the hallways between classes grew dangerous- many of the Slytherin players were tangling with our own, and more than once someone got marched off to detention for throwing jinxes in the corridors.

It also meant that, for the first time in my life, people noticed me. I mean, I was never an unpopular person, the kind that got tripped in the lunch line or anything, but nowadays other Ravenclaws would pat me on the back or offer me a high-five when they passed me in the hall. It was quite an unusual experience. Of course, that affection stopped once it reached the classrooms. One classroom in particular.

Since Malfoy's wipeout on the pitch, Professor Snape had seemed to focus on me as his next target. Malfoy had always been his favorite student, and even though I had always kept my mouth shut and maintained good grades in his class, I had become his new punching bag. He didn't take kindly to me humiliating one of his own house, so he jumped at every chance he got to embarrass me.

I shuffled into class, taking care to find a seat near the back. Dropping my school bag next to my cauldron, I began taking out all of my potions ingredients and my textbook, Advanced Potion Making, when Malfoy dropped into the seat next to me. He still had a trace of a black eye from his face-plant on the ground, which gave me no small satisfaction.

"What are you doing?"

"What's the matter, Rayleigh?" He curled his lip into a smirk. "Is there a problem?"

I glowered back, gesticulating wildly with my stirring spoon. "If you try anything, funny, Malfoy, I'm going to stick this spoon so far up your arse-"

"Rayleigh," Snape said silkily, appearing by my side like an overgrown bat. "Holding conversations in the back of my class, threatening Mr. Malfoy? Ten points from Ravenclaw, I think." He swept to the front of the classroom, leaving me burning in the face and holding a spoon under Malfoy's nose. He sneered at me and turned to his cauldron. I did the same, muttering incoherent threats under my breath.

"Today," said Snape, fixing the class with an icy stare, "we will be learning a simple hiccupping solution. Please turn to page seventy-two in your textbooks and begin. You may use ingredients from my cupboard if needed. I expect nothing but perfection from all of you." A flurry of movement broke out as everyone shuffled through their books in search of the recipe. I opened mine and located it quickly, and began grinding my lionfish spines into a fine powder with mortar and pestle. Stir counter-clockwise for thirty seconds, let simmer. I got up and went to the cupboard to retrieve some beetle eyes, and when I turned around to return to my cauldron, Malfoy was hurriedly shifting back into his seat. "What did you do?" I demanded, peering into my cauldron where the unfinished potion bubbled thickly.

"Who, me?"

"Malfoy, I'm going to-"

"What's that, Rayleigh?" He touched a finger to his ear, nodding his head to where Snape stood. "Say that a little louder, please."

I practically growled in fury, measuring out my beetle eyes. I added them into the cauldron- which promptly exploded in a bang and puff of smoke. I coughed, emerging, sooty-faced, from the black haze hovering around my head while Malfoy snickered. Snape loomed over me, scowling. "I always knew your incompetence would catch up with you one day, Rayleigh. Clean this up and start over! Have you no sense?"

"Malfoy tampered with my potion, sir!" I said angrily, whipping around to glare at him while he rearranged his features into a look of innocence. "Me? The audacity!"

"It was you! I saw it!"

"Don't go pinning your failures on Malfoy, young lady. Another ten points from Ravenclaw."

I sat there smoldering (both figuratively and literally) while Malfoy chuckled to himself. I knew there was nothing I could do that wouldn't get me in trouble, so I just whispered, "Nice shiner, Malfoy" and that shut him up.