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SIYE Time:9:41 on 28th March 2024
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Snow Fight
By Calixa

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Category: Pre-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom
Genres: Angst, Fluff
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 27
Summary: Harry and his friends spend afternoons playing in the snow covered grounds to forget about the horrible things going on in the world after Voldemort's return. But not every snow fight is a nice one. Harry discovers there's more to his and Ginny's relationship than just niceties.
Hitcount: Story Total: 5524







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Snow Fight

Snow fell steadily upon Hogwarts for two long weeks that winter, blanketing the grounds in soft clean white and touching the rows of glass panes with muted frost. There was a quiet peace that descended briefly upon the school when Christmas break arrived and many students went home to be with their families, but nothing could truly make people forget about Voldemort’s return.

Harry Potter, like always, stayed at Hogwarts ever the holidays. Not for the first time, (and he was grateful for it) the Weasley family and Hermione Granger were staying along to keep him company. He didn’t know how to put it into words, but Harry felt that his friends were doing something for him that couldn’t be repaid, no matter how hard he tried to.

They made their escapes from the world and it’s morbid news (killings, raids, Muggle attacks) by playing in the wide expanse of snow in the school grounds, spending long afternoons throwing snowballs at each other and laughing. For brief moments, Harry was almost able to forget that the Dark Lord was on the rise, that he had a scar on his forehead that burn white hot whenever he woke up from nightmares of green light and screaming, and that everyone — including himself and those close to him — was in danger.

Harry treasured those moments dearly.

One afternoon they found themselves traipsing out into the brilliant sunshine and shielding their eyes from the glittering glare. The fluffy snow crunched underfoot and it was the perfect kind of snow for packing into snowballs.

For some reason, Ron always took on the role of commander, especially when they decided upon the teams.

“If we’re going to play fair, we need someone to sit out.” Said Ron, frowning. “We can’t have five people against four.”

Hermione rubbed her arms and nodded impatiently. “Yes, yes, I’ll sit out.” She said between clattering teeth. “Anything, as long as we stop standing her in the cold.”

“You wouldn’t be so cold if you’d worn the jumper mum knit for you,” Ron teased. “But then again, I wouldn’t want to be caught dead in hot pink, either.”

Hermione made a face at him, her already pink cheeks flushing red. “Come on, hurry up!”

Inwardly, Harry agreed with her. They, including the twins, Ginny, Dean, Seamus and Neville had been standing outside for quite a while now, and he was starting to get cold. Nor was he the only one. Dean was sneezing, Neville (who had joined them because he had nothing else to do) was starting to look like a beet, and Ginny was hopping from foot to foot in an effort to warm herself up. Harry, smiling, snuck a sneaky glance at her, and quickly looked away when she spoke.

“Are you sure you want to sit out, Hermione?” asked Ginny, “I don’t mind, if you’d rather play, I can — argh!”

A snowball hit the side of her head, plastering her red hair to her face.

George grinned cheekily as Ginny spluttered, looking outraged.

“What was that for?” she demanded.

“For talking to much.” He replied airily.

“I wasn’t the only one!”

SMACK! Ron stumbled backwards blindly, having been hit with a snowball right in the face.

“I know.” Fred smirked. “That one’s for making us stand in the cold.”

Dean and Seamus snickered at the look of astonishment on Ron’s face; even Hermione couldn’t resist the urge to giggle. Ron glared at them all, then with a swift bend, scooped up snow in both hands and grinned.

“Laugh at me, will you?” You won’t be laughing much longer.”

He chased all three of them, particularly Hermione, into a drift of snow, where Dean and Seamus teamed up and attempted to bury Ron into the bank. Hermione laughed, but eventually came to his rescue.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing to my little brother?” shouted Fred, and he took a running leap, diving into the bank headfirst. George followed, whooping with glee.

Harry chuckled but held back, staying where he was. He remembered how the twins had pinned him down last time and forced him to sing nursery rhymes out loud.

After a moment of watching his friends frolick in the snow, enjoying themselves immensely, (though from Ron’s shouts one would think that he was being decapitated) Harry realized that Ginny wasn’t joining in on the fun. In fact, she’d disappeared. He looked around, wondering where she’d gone, and saw a trail of footprints in the snow, leading towards the lake. With a final glance at the others, who had now turned on Neville and were trying to turn him into a living snowman, it seemed, Harry followed Ginny’s path.

He saw her tiny figure in a bit, crouched down by the lake. Harry approached slowly, trying to be silent so she didn’t hear. He picked up a mound of snow in his hands and pressed it into a snowball.

Ginny was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t see him coming. Her scarf had come loose and was lying in the white snow next to her, and she had pulled her wet hair back, revealing a perfect target of bare skin for Harry. He tossed the snowball playfully at her neck.

“Ahhh!” she jumped. “Harry!”

Harry smiled, a bit foolishly, he knew, but hopefully Ginny was too distracted with the melting snow on her collar to notice.

“I’m going to have to get you for that one,” she said, eyes twinkling. “That was distinctly unfair.”

Harry had never seen anyone make a snowball so fast. Obviously she’d had a lot of practice with her six brothers.

“Go ahead,” he urged, grinning. “Do your worst.”

“You asked for it.”

Thwap! The snowball hit his shoulder.

“That was for letting Ron choose the teams.”

“Fair enough.”

Whump.

“Hey! I only hit you once!” exclaimed Harry in mock outrage.

Ginny smiled innocently. “You said do your worst.”

“That was terrible. You only hit my arm.”

“Are you challenging me?” she demanded.

Harry couldn’t help but notice how red her hair was, especially in this light. All the Weasleys had red hair, true, but Ginny’s always seemed more vibrant somehow. Brighter. Shinier. Flaming. Even if it was wet and untidy, it was still the nicest hair Harry could imagine on anyone. His mother had red hair.

A dull thump on his other shoulder brought him back to the present. Ginny laughed as he wiped bits of broken snow off his face.

“Was that hard enough?”

“That was pathetic.” Scoffed Harry, pretending to be serious. “Maybe you should think of me as someone you want to hit. Someone you hate.”

She shook her head melodramatically. “I’m hopeless.”

“No, just try it.” said Harry, taking a step back and spreading out his arms. “Don’t worry about hurting me. Close your eyes and think.”

“You’re sure about this?” a smile played on the corners of her mouth.

“Absolutely.”

Ginny shrugged and closed her eyes. For a few minutes they stood in silence. Then she opened her eyes again, and something undecipherable passed over them. She threw another snowball at Harry, this time it was distinctly harder and hit closer to the center of his chest.

“Much better.” He said, meeting her gaze and grinning. “Who were you thinking of?”

Ginny didn’t seem to want to answer. Finally, with a small smile, she replied reluctantly, “Someone who made me cry.”

Harry’s stomach twisted. He’d never really witness Ginny cry, not truly, and he never wanted to. As casually as possible, he said, “Give it another try.”

Stiffly, Ginny bent down and gathered more snow into her hands. She was deft at making the snowball, but Harry somehow sensed that her heart wasn’t really into it.

WHAM! Next thing he knew, snow was dripping down his front. Ginny had quite a good arm.

She smiled weakly at him, arms by her sides. “He embarrassed me quite a bit, too.”

The look of misery, tinged with disappointment and quiet sadness in her eyes thoroughly bewildered him. Who, thought Harry, could have hurt Ginny this much? Because she was truly hurt — he could see that clearly. Immediately his mind ran through all the possibilities. Ron? No, it couldn’t be him. Fred and George? They’d tortured her in her first year, taking turns jumping out at her with boils and fur. That could have frightened her and made her cry. The twins had embarrassed everyone at some point. Yet somehow Harry didn’t think it was them.

His stomach clenched. Perhaps it was Tom Riddle? The preserved 50-year old memory of Voldemort, who had possessed Ginny to open the Chamber of Secrets? But Tom Riddle hadn’t really embarrassed Ginny. He’d merely used her and tried to kill her.

Then Harry thought of the most likely person of all. Draco Malfoy. The name made his blood boil, and he clenched his fists. Malfoy would have had plenty of opportunities to make Ginny cry or embarrass her. In fact, Harry could think of one occasion where he’d managed both. That Valentine’s day long ago, back in second year, where a singing dwarf had cornered Harry in the hallways and serenaded him. Malfoy had flung a few choice words at Ginny, reducing her to tears.

It must be Malfoy Ginny was thinking of, Harry thought viciously. That stupid prat —

WHACK!

Harry stumbled back in shock. The snowball had come out of nowhere, hitting him directly in the face. He heard Ginny say faintly, “For making me put my elbow in the butterdish.”

Harry froze. Impossible. She couldn’t have just said that. Ginny couldn’t- he must have heard wrong. It couldn’t be…

She hit him again. “For believing I sent him a singing valentine.”

He couldn’t have misheard that. Harry stared at Ginny, who stared blankly back, her face red. The gleam in her brown eyes was no longer twinkly or mischievous. It was hard-edged and sharp. Harry didn’t know what to do, so he just stood still, like a statue.

“For not having the courage to tell him how I feel,” she whispered. “For being the quiet, unreachable hero. For saving my life, and acting like it was nothing.” The snowballs came hard and fast, pelting every inch of his torso. Harry tried not to move, not to flinch, but this was not too difficult as he felt frozen to the core anyways.

It started to hurt. Deeply. Harry had never felt so horrible, so bad in his life. He almost wanted to-

“For not asking me to the ball!” Ginny practically shouted, throwing a snowball so hard it made his chest throb. The force of it made her stumble as well, and she dropped to the ground, exhausted.

The ringing in Harry’s ears would not go away. He didn’t know how to react, what to say. He simply felt numb, and horrible, and horribly numb. Ginny breathed shallowly on the ground, her eyes closed once more.

Harry barely heard her last words as she clutched the snow in both hands.

“For ignoring me for the past four years.”

It was like a hard blow to his gut. Numbly, Harry sat down in the crunchy snow as well. He couldn’t believe what Ginny had just told him. He couldn’t believe this was how she felt about him.

He couldn’t believe what a complete idiot he was.

How could he have done this to anyone, least of all Ginny? How could he have hurt her this much? How could he make her cry, and not even know?

He was a prat, and a terrible friend. He was worse than Malfoy. The thought did not help him at all.

“Harry! Ginny!” called out Hermione’s voice suddenly, jolting him out of his awkward misery.He looked up, saw Ginny wipe something quickly from her eyes, and for a second, their gazes met.

Hermione slowed to a halt, panting. “There you are. Ron! I’ve found them!”

If it struck her as odd to find them both sitting there, avoiding each other’s eyes, she didn’t show it. Ron came running, his face a bright red.

“Whoa…” he said, breathing heavily. “Harry, you’re all wet.”

“I am?” He really hadn’t noticed. But of course he was, he was dripping wet after that storm of snowballs Ginny had released upon him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Ginny, staring at Hermione.

“Neville fell and sprained his wrist.” Hermione explained. “We’re taking him to the hospital wing.”

“Is he all right?”

“Yeah…” said Ron, wiping his forehead. “We’re heading back to the castle, just to let you two know.”

“Come on, Ron,” Hermione pulled on his arm. “I think Fred’s calling us. Harry, you and Ginny can go back together, can’t you?”

“Yeah…” said Harry softly, wondering if Ginny would ever want to go anywhere with him anymore.

“All right then.” said Ron. “We’ll see you later.”

They ran off the way they’d come, disappearing around the drift. Harry looked around at Ginny. She was staring at the ground, at her red, snow-drenched fingers.

“Do-” began Harry finally.

“Should we-” said Ginny.

They both stopped, waiting for the other to finish. Harry swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, and stammered,

“We- we should probably head back — you know… see how Neville is doing, and all -”

“Yes.” said Ginny in a small voice.

He stood up slowly, trying not to let it show that his chest hurt. Ginny watched him, her eyes never leaving his face. Harry went red, despite himself. Not knowing if it was a good idea or not, he held out his hand to her, offering to help her stand up.

At first, she did nothing. Then, slowly, she reached out and took his hand. Her fingers were freezing, even more so than his own. Instinctively, he closed his hand over hers, wanting to warm them up. Then Harry realized what he was doing and he almost let go.

She heaved herself up, immediately pulling her hand out of his grip. They walked back the way Ron and Hermione had gone, spaced apart and silent. The free spirit of the afternoon had disappeared. Harry sighed inwardly. He would have a lot of thinking to do tonight.

He had to make it up to Ginny somehow. He didn’t know what he would do, or how he would get around to accomplishing it, but Harry knew he had to show her he was sorry.

Because he didn’t want to lose a good friend.

They reached the castle soon enough, quietly trudging in the snow. A wind started to blow roughly, rendering Harry’s entire torso aflame with cold. His cloak was soaked through, and he felt chilled to the bone.

Just as they were about to go into the Entrance Hall, Ginny stopped.

“Harry-” Ginny said, her voice trembling. He turned around to face her, feeling that painful knot tighten. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

“Gin-” he said, but she interrupted.

“I didn’t mean to hit you so hard, I’m so sorry. Oh, Harry. I — I’m just… sorry.”

“No.” he said quietly, meeting her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Reviews 27
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