A/N: So much time for writing when I'm sick! Lovely! Oh, I saw End of the Spear the other night. Very cool and interesting movie. Almost made me cry T.T

Shout outs for the 41 reviews that I've gotten so far (in order of appearance): TheAgonyofBlank (x2), Nathonea (x5), Whitelight72, blondkellycrazy, rizahawkeye21 (x6), SailorZelda, sarcastic-ha ha ha, The Future Mrs. Thomas Andrew Felton (x2), queenofthelamoes (x5), Angie Anaconda, Anakah, OneWhiteTulip (x2), Eternally-BlackRose-Yours (x2), aznchic2009 (x3), Fire Neko 324, Emily Kennedy, hottennispro88, KyootNShort, rainlfallslup, brooklyntiger, and Emi-bum.

Sorry if I missed someone…or something.

So yah, I'll get out of the way now…

I sat on a cold steel floor. Freezing winds kept tearing at me as I huddled, as tightly as I could, into a ball. My face stung from the tears that were solidifying even as they poured out of my eyes.

Everything around me was darkness. Somehow I knew that no matter how far I reached, I would encounter nothing.

Emptiness surrounded and consumed me.

My eyes opened with that disoriented, groggy feeling, desperately trying to make out the picture they were relaying to my brain. After a moment, they adjusted to the dim light of the room.

It was cold.

Looking about, I found that all of my blankets were spilling over the side of the bed, and I had been lying there without any covers. My feet felt icy, and my muscles were tight from my body's attempt to keep warm.

Dragging the blankets back up onto the bed, I discovered that they had been in the floor for quite some time. The satiny sheets felt chill.

What time is it?

I put on my heavy overcoat and thick slippers and got up. It felt like time no longer existed – everything was surreal.

I moved out into the common room to sit in an armchair by the fire. The embers were almost out, so I poked and stabbed them back to life and added another log or two. When the blaze finally began to crackle and hiss, I leaned back into the chair.

Sitting within the protective glow of the flames, the world no longer existed. I didn't think of anything, really. Just watched the dancing fire as it weaved in and out of itself, over and over, a hypnotizing pattern. I sat in a daze.

But I didn't feel the heat. I couldn't. I sat there, numb to it. And I didn't know why.

I awoke, startled to find myself in the common room. After a frantic thought or two, I remembered the previous night and the surreal haze that had brought me downstairs.

I was stiff all over from dozing in the armchair – especially in my neck.

Getting up, I went to see if anyone was awake yet. I couldn't figure out what time it was. Everyone was still in bed, but I felt restless. I dressed and went out, grabbing my scarf and gloves on the way.

Making my way along the reverberating passages, I found that it was sometime around dawn. The sun was almost up over the furthest ridge visible from the east gallery's windows.

I quickened my pace to warm my feet inside my large boots. I was still chilly.

Everything was so subdued. Grim and quiet. Shades of gray had overtaken everything I passed. The dim light left everything in those kinds of shadows-that-aren't.

I felt stately as I stepped down the grand staircase alone. The rug muffled the echo of my boots. I crossed the expansive entrance hall and grasped the great iron handle of the massive doors.

I felt so small standing there, hand still holding the ring, poised to heave the doors open. I pulled and, with a creaky groan, the door opened enough so that I could squeeze through if I turned sideways. I slid through, buttons on my jacket scraping the door, and pulled it shut after me.

As I turned around, my eyes were greeted with that awe-inspiring sight of new-fallen snow. So very deceiving. It looks so soft and fluffy, so dry and cottony. But if one is fool enough to jump into a drift of it, they find that it is indeed very wet, very cold, and very hard to get out of one's clothes.

I trudged over and through those drifts, crossing the great white expanse between myself and the lake. I stood on the shore, looking out past the frozen surface to the hills in the distance – always there, but hardly ever noticed. The tiny trees were laden with snow, all their branches bent nearly to the ground under the weight.

I stood there, breathing in the icy-crisp air, enjoying the silence that seemed all-pervasive. Like nothing could break the stillness, save the crunching and creaking of my boots on the snow, or the gentle rustle of the branches nearest me, shedding bits of their heavy loads.

I watched and waited for dawn. The sun, the warmth. But I knew it wouldn't really come. Not in full shine, golden rays casting brilliant shadows on those distant hills. It was overcast today. The same as every winter day. And I liked it that way.

But eventually the sky did lighten, as it always did, and I turned away from those hills and the lake. Breakfast would begin soon, and the solitude and grandeur of the vast grounds would be spoiled by others coming to play in the snow.

Childish.

My mind had finally switched back to reality, remembering the irritation known as people. I paused for a moment and, looking back at the lake, wistfully longed for a place where people did not intrude, did not bother, did not overrun.

But there is no place like that.

Following my footholes – they were much larger than footprints because of the depth of the snow – back to the castle, I let myself in through that ridiculous creaky door. Stamping snow off of my boots, I removed my gloves and unwound my scarf from around my neck.

On to breakfast.

Maybe it was because of my interrupted sleep, or maybe it was because of the subdued feeling I had experienced when walking through the corridors that morning, but I just felt very sullen. Heavy. I sat at breakfast and silently looked at the steam rising from the hotcakes stacked on a serving dish in front of my plate.

I didn't feel like eating. So, I didn't.

Still, I sat there all the same, watching other students file in in random ones and twos. At one point Granger wandered in. Other students from my own house came and sat down, partaking of the delicious-smelling food. Everyone else was quiet as well.

I looked across at Granger, who had sat down and begun dishing up a small helping of potato wedges onto her plate. I looked down at my empty dish.

I wasn't feeling quite right, so I got up and left, casting one glance at the towering pines that had been put up and decorated in honor of the season.

Unfortunately, I picked the wrong time to leave. One would think that if one is moving at a normal human pace while exiting through a very large doorway, there would be little to no chance of having anyone plow straight into one's person.

But no. Someone, namely Potter, was out to get me. He was, of course, closely followed by the Weaslette.

So it was just my luck to have that dark-haired, ill-mannered boy smack straight into me, knocking me into the wall. He himself sprawled across the floor as if I had just shoved him in a brawl.

So over-dramatic.

Straightening my robes and giving him a look that could peel paint, I attempted to leave without any verbal contact. But of course, that wasn't going to happen. He had to say something to look heroic in front of his clingy little girlfriend.

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy," he spat, with that extra little emphasis on my last name.

Go ahead, hate me.

I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of even thinking he'd gotten to me, so my only response was a 'tch' and a patronizing shake of my head.

Apparently this was too much for him. He always seemed ready to pick a fight. Under normal circumstances, I would have been happy to oblige, but for the moment I would bide my time. Wait for the ball, and then hit him where he doesn't expect it.

"Too good to apologize? Or maybe its 'cause your bodyguards aren't around. No guts without any backup?" he jeered, probably for the benefit of the Weaslette.

"Harry…"she reprimanded quietly.

What, not impressed with his tough-guy act? That makes two of us.

I gave him a how pathetic look, turned, and walked away. Self-control. I have self-control.

I'm calm, and I'm focused. Deep breaths.

Though his looking to pick a fight made him seem quite the prat, it still incensed me. I wasn't even the one who ran into him. He ran into me. And of course he had to be insulting. As always.

His face is insulting.

Grumbling other such petty remarks as I shuffled off, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my robe. In my right pocket was a note. Pulling it out, I found it was from none other than Granger.

How does she do that!

Opening it with a little more force than necessary, I accidentally ripped one of the edges. It tore to halfway down the paper, but I was still able to make out the words.

Same place, same time. Don't go to the room first.

Hermione

Great. More waltzing. At least I was getting better.

At the appointed time, I was making my way across the snow.

My toes were cold.

I reached the frozen pond to find Granger leaning against a tree, looking out at the hills I had watched that morning. Creepy.

We shortly went out on the ice, slipping on the slickest areas. And we proceeded to practice for quite a while. I was falling less that day. In fact, I slipped less than her.

My inner self yelled a victorious haHA!

We finally took a break after what seemed like hours. It probably hadn't been hours, but there was no clock out there. I don't wear my nice pocket-watch while doing active things. I'd rather not lose it, as it belonged to my father.

She doesn't wear a watch, but she always seems to know what time it is. Another creepy thing about her that I can't figure out.

We shuffled and slid over to the trees at the edge of the pond and stood, occasionally stiffly stretching. She pulled out a thermos from behind the tree she had been previously leaning on. As she screwing off the top, steam rose from its depths and along with it, the wonderful smell of hot cocoa.

Where did she get that?

I stood off to the side, trying not to look like I was at all interested. The smell drove me mad on the inside, though. She inhaled deeply and pulled out two mugs.

Two?

"Want some?" she asked, looking up.

I glanced around. Duh. Of course I wanted some. But I didn't want to look too eager. So I played it cool.

"Sure…" I mumbled after a moment. Real smooth, Draco.

She filled the two mugs nearly to the brims. Passing me one and keeping one for herself, she cleared the snow off of some tree roots and sat down. I did the same, so that my robes and pants wouldn't get soaked.

As soon as I was holding the cup in my bare hands – I had removed my gloves – I was glad I had accepted. The thick, creamy cocoa was warming. The ceramic sides of the mug radiated the heat to my fingers. And when I took a sip I could feel it warming me all the way down.

It had peppermint in it.

We sat in silence, each enjoying the quiet peace, letting the heat spread through us and renewing our strength.

We looked out past the side of the pond over to the other side of the grounds. A few students were out, frolicking in the new snow. I was quite glad I had had my own time in the snow before the others had come and spoiled it.

A few of them were bewitching snowballs, sending them zooming through the air to pelt someone fifty yards away, right on the head. Their antics were funny to watch, so long as I didn't become involved. I did not savor the idea of have snow shoved down my collar, to be followed with more snow in my face.

At length, a couple of people emerged from the castle and trekked across the snowy expanse. Nothing was wrong until I noticed that if I squinted, it appeared to be Potter and the Weaslette.

I glanced over surreptitiously to see if Granger had noticed. She had.

She sat stiffly, with her hands clutching her mug tightly. She probably didn't realize how intently she watched them, frozen in place, ignoring her remaining cocoa.

The two shuffled around for a bit and then started making a snowman. The three pieces weren't quite round, but they managed to stack them with a little work. Then, of course, they had to stand there for another ten minutes putting the stupid face on and adding arms, buttons, and, of all things, hair.

Who puts hair on a snowman?

I glanced at Granger again and saw that she was looking resolutely down at her cocoa, intent on watching the brown liquid swirling around inside her mug. Her knuckles were turning white from clenching the cup.

I decided it would be best to wait until they had both left, which thankfully happened in a short time. They moved off somewhere out of view, probably to make snow angels and snog behind some trees. They're despicable.

I stood up quickly, looking down at Granger. She was close to tears, but trying not to look as if she was. They just had to publicize their relationship again, didn't they?

Still angry with Potter from before, I found that this made it worse. If I didn't do anything, I'd go mad. I had to do something.

Setting down my now-empty mug, I pulled Granger to her feet.

"Come on," I said roughly. She gave me a startled look and set down her mug next to mine. However, when I turned to move toward the area the two lovebirds had just occupied, she just stood there. So I had to go back and drag her with me.

Following me only because I had a firm grip on her wrist, she looked utterly confused. Once we reached the middle of the field, I let go and we stopped.

Now for some fun.

I bent down and scooped up some snow, packing it into a small, tight ball. Making a couple of these, I looked up and saw Granger just staring off into the trees. Probably looking to see if they were there somewhere nearby.

Once I had a sizeable stockpile of snowballs, I pulled out my wand. Using the same animation charm as I had used on the dragon, I got the first one in the air.

After watching it hover in place directly at eye-level for a few moments, I shot it off. It landed square in the middle of the snowman's face. I heard Granger gasp – and then start to laugh a little.

Well, she's reviving.

Then for the next one. I sent it zooming toward the snowman at a dangerous speed, and it hit the left arm, snapping it clean in two. Granger giggled some more.

The next few landed on the midsection, knocking the buttons loose. At this point Granger joined in, charming her snowballs to fly at even faster speeds. She managed to get the right eye and the nose all in one fell swoop of her wand.

By then even I was starting to enjoy myself. The snowman now looked absurd, one-eyed and one-limbed, nose and buttons missing, and extra clods of snow stuck all over him. We were in stitches as we sent the next few snowballs off, cheering when they took out the remaining arm and half of the mouth.

Soon the face and all other recognizable features had been obliterated. But I wasn't quite satisfied and, to my surprise, neither was Granger.

She took off at a run, looking utterly ridiculous, all bundled up and stomping through the snow. But I followed. I wanted the fun of crushing that large snowy form first. I soon caught up with her, but she dragged me back by pulling on the back of my overcoat. This, of course, I greeted with loud protest as she pushed and shoved her way past me.

Just as she was about to reach her objective, I managed to catch the back of her coat, but tripped. That sent both of us crashing down through the snowman, thoroughly destroying what little remained of the once-hairy thing.

However, I managed to get my revenge, on both her and the snowman. What the snowman had done, I really wasn't sure, but it felt like revenge to smash its little head to bits, chunks of snow flying every which way. Seriously, who does put hair on a snowman?

Granger was laughing again, and I felt a sense of accomplishment at the demise of the thing. As I twisted around and sat up, I saw Granger to my left, face-first in snow. She just lay there, cackling, which made the situation seem even more amusing, for some reason.

I thought it was all over, but then an idea popped into my head. Potter and the Weaslette will be walking back this way…

Standing up and dusting off as much snow from my coat as I could, I began to pack snow into as large a ball as I could. After Granger finally extricated herself from the snowdrift, she asked what I was doing.

"Help me make a new snowman," I said. I didn't care that she would probably have no idea what I was planning.

She gave me an odd look, but started to help.

Quite a while later – snowmen take a lot longer to make than one would think – the general shape could be seen. It was a snowman, minus any features that would make it definite. Digging out a couple of rocks from beneath the snow, I managed to make a maliciously victorious face, smiling, but with angry eyebrows. Granger supplied the arms – twisted branches from the nearest tree.

And then, the piece de resistance, I found the carrot from the decimated snowman nose burrowed under the snow. Placed not on the face but in the "hand" of our new snowman, the carrot was held aloft as a trophy of the snowman's epic battle against the previous snowman. Bits and chunks of his unfortunate opponent remained strewn about him.

After we had had another good laugh over this, we heard the bells ringing for dinner, so, after charming the snowman to resist any attempts to destroy him, we went on our way, back up to the castle.

Halfway there, we heard a shout of alarm from behind us and, turning to look, found that Potter and the Weaslette had just happened upon the remains of their little project. We decided, amid more chuckling, that it would probably be best if we moved a little faster.

Shuffling into the hall, we stomped the last snow off of our shoes and headed into the dining hall. Upon entering, Granger remembered the mugs she had left out, but I assured her that if they were from the kitchens, the house elves would get them.

She gave me a slightly funny look at the mention of house elves, but remained silent, only nodding her head as I finished talking. We parted and each sat down to a delicious meal of roast fowl. Nice and tender.

As I ate and defrosted, I again found the heat of the castle stifling, and was tempted to step back outside into the snow before heading to the common room. From the looks of things, Granger was considering it too, as she fanned her face, which was flushed from the stinging wind outside.

After stuffing myself fit to burst, I tottered out of the hall. I was already regretting eating so much, and I knew I would only feel worse unless I went to bed.

So I did.

I hadn't realized just how tired I was, but another day of falling on the hard, hard ice and running around in the cold had left me even more stiff and sore than the previous night had. I could almost feel my joints settling into place, a drowsy feeling settling on my limbs.

I lay on my back and waited for sleep to come.

It didn't take long.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Please give CC and such. Yesterday I bought a puce trenchcoat. Bet you didn't even think they made clothes in that color! Well, anyways, it was three bucks and it matches my shoes. So now I'm just awaiting my beta and time to write the next chapter. And I'm quite excited about the Mae concert on Sunday.

Currently listening to: Nouveaux and Click Five