Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?

May 1995
6th year
-

It was a rare day this year to have a date with Jo and not have her scowl the whole time, Marcus mused as they walked down the hall. She'd been worried about Leilani up until recently, rightfully so, if he were being honest. He'd known Wood from the tender age of eleven; he'd known it wasn't a good match. But today was not a day to think on such things. Marcus had failed his OWLs last year on purpose. He'd wanted to stay with Jo and that was made harder if she were still in school and he wasn't. There was also some messy family crap he was avoiding by staying in school. But, as before, today was not a day to think on such things.

He guided Jo, one hand hovering at the small of her back, the other over her eyes.

"Did you take me outside?" Jo asked, suddenly shivering.

"Nope," he swept his hand out in a grand gesture, revealing the Room of Requirement all covered in snow.

"Did you shovel all this in yourself?" There were mounds providing cover and stockpiles of ready-made snowballs.

Impressive… Very impressive.

"Fortunately, no. The room did it all by itself."

"Hm. Disappointing. Well, if we're going to have a snowball fight, I'm gonna need some gloves." As soon as she asked, a pair appeared at her feet. "Ooh, gloves!" she snatched them up and tugged them on.

Half-wary and half-confused he asked, "Why do you need gloves?"

"Because if we're gonna do this, we're doing it the muggle way: with our hands. And I don't want to lose because my fingers fell off."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "So this is a contest, hmm?"

"Duh."

"What do I get if I win?"

"What do you want?"

"I want…" he pressed a kiss to her jaw, thinking. Then to the other side. He hadn't kissed her yet. Not really. He was waiting. Toeing the line. Finding her boundaries and slowly expanding them. "I want to meet your family."

"And if I win?"

"I'll buy you whatever book you want."

"Ohohoh! Deal. Now, get yourself a pair of gloves. I don't want to win because your hands fell off." She stepped out of the circle of his arms and with the casual grace of a girl with two siblings, scooped up a handful of snow. She compressed it into a crude ball and oh-so casually launched it at Marcus' face.

The snow hit with a wet splat and he looked at her as it dripped down into his collar, "That was not nice."

Jo shrugged, "Just b'cause I'm a 'Puff don't mean I'm nice." She flashed a wicked grin at him over her shoulder as she strutted away.

"Alright then, have it your way," he gave her retreating back an equally wicked grin before launching into a running tackle. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she shrieked, turning in his arms as they went down, landing in a mound of loosely packed snow.

"Gotcha," he grinned.

"Oh, you think so?"

He looked at her, looked around, looked back at her, "Yes. Yes, I think so."

"Think again!" She declared as she shoved handfuls of snow down his shirt back. As she wiggled away she said, "So that's two points for me and one for you." She grabbed two snowballs at her feet and launched them at him. He ducked, and then retaliated.

"ACK!"

"Three," Marcus smirked after delivering unto his girlfriend's face two snowballs in quick succession.

"Oh, you're gonna pay for that!" The room decided to create small stockpiles of snowballs and scattered them, leaving trails here and there, mounds this way and that. It also provided convenient hills to take cover behind. When Jo popped up to launch, a snowball hit her on the nose. "Four," he called casually. She retaliated, upping her score to three.

The day continued on, the room replenishing their stock-piles as needed. Jo tackled him into a large hill and then proceeded to scoop the snow around them, onto him. He didn't move.

She sat, straddling his hips. He still didn't move.

She poked his side, nothing.

Just when she began to worry, he threw his upper body put of the snow, crying, "RAHHH!"

She shrieked in surprise as he sat up like a vampire (with a whole lot more speed and force) and caught her wrists. He swept his knees and feet out as he pressed his hips up, pitching her backwards, dropping her into the snow. They blinked at each other for a moment, him grinning fiendishly and then she started laughing. "You scared the hell out of me!" she accused. She wanted to throw snow in that grinning face but he still had her wrists.

"Give up?"

"Not just yet, I think." Her feet were free, so were her legs, there was space between his sips and hers. If she was just flexible enough, she could get her feet against his abs—no, she couldn't. She wasn't that flexible.

He traced her jawline with the tip of his nose.

She shoved her knee in his spleen.

"There will be no adult-type touching. Or anything that would feasibly lead to adult type touching," she proclaimed as he huffed out a not-quite pained groan.

"Why not?" he asked, still groaning. Knees and spleens do not mix.

"I want to be wooed, damn it. Is a little romance too much to ask?"

"Wooed?"

She nodded once, sharply, "Woo me."

Woo me, Baby, one more time.

"I can do that," he agreed, letting her up.

He swept a bow, dark hair flopping over his forehead as he took her hand and kissed it. He stood, took a step closer and pulled her into dance frame. Softly tapping out a beat against her shoulder blade he led her into a waltz.

1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3.

Back, side, together.

Forward, side, together.

Rotate, travel, turn, frame.

1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3.

"What're you doing?" she chuckled, pulling back to look at him.

"Wooing you."