A/N: Apologies that this is late! My power went out and my computer was flat, so I was unable to write & post yesterday. I'm hoping to catch up today or tomorrow and have a double-feature. Thank you all for your support! It means the world to me.
Roxanne raised her eyebrows at her boyfriend, Tom.
"I should be studying," she reminded him. eHe He screwed up his face.'
"Nah," he said. "Come on. Next year will be all boring 'cause we have to study for our N.E. . This is the last time we get to have a proper Hogwarts Christmas! We can't waste it, Roxy!" The two of them walked arm-in-arm through the first snowfall of the year. Ice clung to the grass beneath their feet, and snowflakes lodged themselves in Roxanne's thick curly ponytail. She shook them out. Gryffindor scarfs hid their necks, and like the other students that had ventured out into the cold, they wore heavy cloaks and boots. Roxanne glanced at Tom, and flicked a spot of snow out off his shaggy blond mane.
"It's not even Christmas," she said. "It's December fourth."
"Twenty-one days," he said. "It's practically Christmas." Roxanne scoffed.
"Since when is three weeks out practically the day of?" she asked. He raised his hands in a 'don't-hex' fashion.
"Since forever," he said. "Since…since the summer holidays! The last month of school never counts." He had a point there. She rolled her eyes and twirled in a circle instead. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. She glared challengingly at him.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked, arching one eyebrow. Tom smirked.
"Hm. Good question, actually. Curious about it myself." He pulled her closer. She pushed him off, laughing.
"Your head is empty," she said. His mouth dropped open, and he threw his hand over his heart.
"Rubbish! How could you say that about me?" he asked. She shrugged. They passed under a tall old tree that people loved to study under in the summertime. Tom jumped, and whacked one of the lower branches with his hands. Roxanne shook her head.
"What is it with guys and touching branches?" she asked. "Or the gargoyles on the walls?"
"It proves our alpha status," Tom said.
"Bullshit," Roxanne replied. "'Alpha'? You're not a werewolf. Hell, do werewolves even call themselves alphas?"
"I would, if I was a werewolf."
"But you're not. You're a sixteen-year-old boy."
"A very good-looking one."
"In your dreams."
Tom wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and Roxanne leaned into him. A few nearby second years dragged a sled along the ground.
"They're hopeful," Roxanne said. Tufts of green grass still poked through the gentle layer of snow. She bent down and scooped up a handful. Before she could pack it into a snowball, it fell apart in her hands. She showed Tom. He grimaced.
"They're not going to be very jolly if they fall off and eat shit," he said wisely.
"No, I don't think so," Roxanne agreed. Two of the kids climbed onto the sled, and the other three started to push. Roxanne frowned. For starters, they weren't even aiming down a hill – they were on a flat bit. "I wish we could sled, though. It's fun."
"Soon, I reckon," Tom said, looking at the sky. Roxanne followed his line of sight. Thick, puffy clouds reflected white sunlight. A dark owl streaked across the sky like a smudge on a window.
"Now I'm in the mood for it," she complained. Her fingers grew cold – her gloves sat bundled in a drawer of her nightstand back in Gryffindor Tower. Tom grinned.
"I'm in the mood, too," he said.
"Bugger off."
"You love it."
"Mm."
They headed to the Quidditch pitch for no discernible reason. It was a bit of a walk, but an enjoyable one. Tom whipped out his wand and started firing sparks in the direction of falling snowflakes.
"I told you to point further left!" Roxanne said, as he missed another.
"Just let me vibe!" he retorted. "It's not about where they end up, it's about their journey."
"Really?" Roxanne asked, furrowing one brow. She eyed the school's broomshed. Tom nodded.
"Oh yeah. It's a big philosophy thing." Roxanne quickened her pace, and Tom matched it easily. She cursed his stupid long legs. Naturally, she had to go out with one of the tallest blokes in her year, despite being on the shorter end herself. She craned her neck to look up at him, and could only really see the stubbly blond hairs clinging to his chin. He flicked his wand at another snowflake, and missed by several inches. The sparks flung towards the Forbidden Forest.
"Do you think it's the same for people?" she asked, looking at the ground to hide her smile.
"Oh, fully. That's why I'm going to travel when I leave school, you know."
"I like journeys," Roxanne said, smirking at him. He looked down.
"Yeah?" he said.
"Yeah." She measured the distance between herself and the broomshed. "Do you know what my favourite sort of journey is?" Tom screwed his face up.
"Er…one to see me?" he asked. She shook her head.
"Nah," she said. "A race. GO!" Before he could say anything, she bolted in the direction of the shed. Her feet slipped and slid across the icy ground.
"ROXY!" Tom hollered. "WAIT!" She fumbled with her wand and quickly swirled it, pointing at the shed doors.
"Alohomora!" She hoped it work. She made it to the shed and skidded into the metal doors. Tom panted behind her, jogging steadily. She pried the door open. "Accio broom!" A school broom flew to her hand, and she caught it easily. She stowed her wand away and ran out of the shed, throwing one leg over the wooden handle.
"This is rigged!" Tom cried, running past her. "Accio broom!" A broom flew towards him and hit him squarely in the shoulder. "Fuck," he swore, dropping his wand in the grass. Roxanne paused.
"You alright?" she asked. Tom nodded.
"Yeah," he croaked. He shook himself. "No, yeah, I'm right. Where are we flying to?" Roxanne surveyed the skies, and pointed.
"That cloud's where all the snow's coming from," she said. "First one to make a snowball wins."
"You're a seeker," he complained. "You have the advantage."
"Well, you have longer arms." She kicked off. "Love ya." She leaned forward and accelerated higher. Tom grabbed his wand, clambered onto the broom, and kicked off after her.
The wind tore at her hair, pulling long curls from her ponytail. This sort of weather called for goggles, and her eyes watered as she flew higher. But she loved it. She could see all of Hogwarts, towers stretching tall and proud against a backdrop of mountains so green and so perfectly snow-capped they might've been painted. Feeling fled from her fingers, and she dipped lower, rubbing them against the wood of the broomstick to warm them. Now it was time to grab. She looked down, and Tom circled below, wobbling precariously on the broom as he tried to reach out. She almost felt bad for him. Almost. She could make it up to him later.
Roxanne squared her shoulders, and took off once more, her eyes on the prize. She squeezed the broom between her thighs and let go, ready to catch with either hand. Snow hit her hard on the arm. She shivered. A lock of hair flew in front of her face and she struggled to blow it away. She grabbed it and tucked it behind her ear. She needed to focus. Just pick one. She took a deep breath, centring herself. Then she dived. It fell quickly, and the school broom didn't have a fantastic capacity for high speeds. Halfway through, she changed tack and accelerated upwards. A snowflake fell on her cheek. She cursed. She rose higher, arms outstretched, blinking furiously. She could do this. It was just like catching the snitch.
Victory.
Roxanne raised her arm in victory. A shiny ball of snow glittered in her hands.
"I WIN!" she shouted, looking down at her boyfriend. Tom flipped her off from below, and raced up to meet her. She beamed from ear to ear as if she'd won a match.
"Don't worry," she told him, as he got closer. "It's all about the journey." He straightened his beanie with one hand.
"Bitch," he said lovingly.
"Consolation prize," she offered, flying closer to him. She lowered her arm once they were face-to-face, their brooms beside each other. Tom raised his eyebrows.
"It better be good," he said. "I'm freezing my arse off."
"It is," she promised. Roxanne lifted her leg over his broom, shifting her weight between the two, and making sure they stayed together. She cupped his face in her hands. He leaned down. Their lips met. One of his large hands held the small of her back, and the other stroked her hair. Their noses bumped, and she laughed into his open smile.
Below, someone screamed.
They broke apart, frowning at the scene below them. The second years' sled flipped over, flinging them down the hill. One boy put one hand on his hip, and used the other to point into the sky. At them.
"GROSS!" he shouted. "THEY WERE SNOGGING!"
"I don't care!" screamed a girl. "I scraped my knee!"
Roxanne and Tom exchanged a look, and burst into a round of giggles.
"Gross," Tom said in a low voice. "You were snogging someone."
"You're grosser," Roxanne told him.
"You should peg that at them," he whispered, closing his hand around the snowball she held. Roxanne wagged her finger.
"Tom! It's not about who it hits," she said. "It's about the journey."
"You're so stuck on that," he said.
"Maybe."
"If you won't peg it at them, we should at least gross them out again," Tom said. Roxanne glanced down. A red-cheeked boy kicked the sled, hard, and fell over.
"Fine," she said, and kissed him again.
