It was Christmas break, and Harry Potter was all by himself. He trudged along the long hallways of Hogwarts without a destination in mind. The castle was quiet and desolate without the bustling of students going to and from classes. Heck, even the ghosts seemed to be gone too. This place, where Harry felt more happy than anywhere else in the world, felt bigger and emptier, encasing him with a feeling of loneliness. How the boy wished Ron and Hermione could've been with him, but unfortunately, they couldn't. The Weasley family was currently at a close relative's home on Mr. Weasley's side. Apparently, Ron's uncle was greatly sick that it was uncertain how long his uncle had until he kicked the bucket.

"I wish I could stay with you mate," Ron said regrettably. His body hunched forward, his head low.

"'s alright Ron. I'm good here."

Harry tried to smile to make his best mate feel better, but his smile turned more like a forced lopsided grin. Albeit, he felt sad that Ron wouldn't get to stay with him, but just the thought that the red-haired boy who became his friend the moment he step unto the Hogwarts train would rather be here to accompany him than be with his family, made Harry feel very warm on the inside.

"I wish I could stay too Harry, but my Mom and Dad are expecting me home for Christmas."

Harry looked over towards his right shoulder where his bushy-haired friend was sitting beside him. She looked at him with worried eyes.

"Hermione, Ron - I really appreciate you guys thinking of staying here with me, but I'll be fine. We'll get to see each other in a couple of weeks anyways..."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other for a second, then looked back at Harry; doubts written on their faces. Harry shifted and sank his back on the couch further. He looked forward where the fireplace was located. Its flames dancing in different directions; its embers sparkling; it made Harry bewitched and looked at it in a daze...

In the end, Ron and Hermione promised Harry that they were going to send him letters over Christmas break, which Harry was grateful for. At least that was something he would get to look forward to.

Harry hadn't realized that he was already outside the halls. His surrounding was filled with a white blanket of snow. Snowdrops were falling on the top of his head, and he brushed it off with his hand; ruffling his already messy hair further. Looking up towards the sky, he outstretched his right hand to catch the falling snow, standing there for a while. Soon, he shivered from the cold, and turning back, walked a few steps and lowered himself to sit on the edge of the stone-cold floor on the many corridors of Hogwarts. This way, he could still gaze at the snow slowly dropping out of the sky. It felt relaxing to him.

Although, honestly, it was freezing, and Harry should've brought a much warmer clothing, but if the option was wearing Dudley's oversized sweater that made him feel like he was drowning in it, he'd rather shiver from the cold. Well, he supposed he could head back to the Gryffindor common room and sit near the fireplace where he could be nice and warm, but he opted out because the only students who were staying behind were a couple of higher years. He felt out of place. He was the only first year from Gryffindor house to have stayed behind for Christmas break- for which he didn't really mind. This was loads better than being at the Dursley's where he was treated like a helper. At least a helper would've been paid. Harry couldn't even get decent meals at that household...

Harry let out a long sigh; his eyes downcast as he settled his elbows on his legs while cupping both of his cheeks. Thinking how everyone got to spend their holidays at home with their family hit Harry with a pang of longing. It was slowly climbing its way up to his heart and made him feel more miserable.

How Harry wished he was normal.

Not Harry Potter- the hero of wizarding mankind, the orphan, the freak... but just Harry.

He sniffled. Once, twice- he felt tears sliding down on the sides of his face. He sniffled again feeling his nose getting clogged from the cold as he wiped his runny nose on the back of his winter glove. Maybe it was a bad idea to sit here.

Unbeknownst to him, on the opposite corridor, a certain potions master was passing by, and initially slowing down its pace when he saw a certain raven-haired boy sitting on the floor. Upon scrutinizing the figure, he settled to a stop, a sneer slowly replacing his features as he recognized who the boy was. He was about to march towards the boy who didn't even noticed him; scathing remarks already forming on his mind to remove the blasted boy off the freezing stone floor, when upon closer inspection, the boy appeared to be crying.

He frowned. The boy was sniffling and the contour of its body appeared shaky; and by the looks of it, he'll be having a cold soon.

Look at him. Shaking like a withered leaf.

Severus' face curled up in mild disgust.

Pathetic, Potter.

Severus grumbled. The foolish boy was wearing only a jacket in this weather- without even a scarf or a hat on. The boy was obviously using its brain- or the lack of it. Drawing a wand out of his robes, he silently casted a heating charm on the boy, and swiftly returned it back on his person. Severus started to walk again in his usual fast pace, leaving the boy behind. The last thing he would want is to deal with a snot-faced Potter.

Harry, out of the blue, felt a tingling sensation starting from his head and flowing unto the very tip of his fingers, warming him up like a warm blanket. He frowned in confusion as he swiveled his head around looking for somebody else besides him. There was movement on the left corner of his eye. He didn't catch who it was, but he did saw the tip of a black billowing robe.

Harry's nose scrunched up. "No way," he mouthed.

Snape couldn't possibly be the one who did that to him. The greasy git was the bane of Harry's school life. He would find faults on Harry every chance he could get. There was no way that the bat of the dungeons would cast a charm on him- whatever that was- to make him warm. Or maybe the git cursed him. Suddenly, Harry felt worried. He wouldn't do that, would he? He was still a professor, yet again, the man seemed like he was always out to get his students, especially him.

Harry looked over himself- he touched his legs and arms and face, but nothing felt different. Maybe he didn't cursed him after all..but that would be downright weird. It would mean that the greasy git did make Harry warmer.

No way. No bloody way.

Harry shook his head. The cold must've gotten to him; making his imagination run wild. He decided it was time to get up. He turned around, not feeling so cold anymore, and walked his way up to the Gryffindor common room.