Fallen Snow

“And what of it?” Anna stiffened, taking a wary step back while keeping a hand on her owl. The snowy’s preternatural blue eyes were so often a cause of start and alarm that it was almost reflex to her by now.

She expected Nix to turn away, as if she had no care for the stranger. And perhaps that was what the snowy wanted others to believe–wanted her to believe. But Anna could tell that she was deeply abashed and insecure at seeing others who were afraid of her.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the other girl shudder, as one would in a chilly breeze rather than from any perturbation or repulsion. And although Nix remained coolly aloof, there was a curiosity behind those icy floes. It caused a tingle at the back of her neck, knowing what it was like to be the focus of that piercing stare.

“I had an owl like her once. A little snowy, with the most beautiful eyes...” It was spoken in a soft undertone, a close to inaudible utterance.

Had? Anna’s brow furrowed.

“She made mornings my favourite part of the day, just to see her come swooping into the Great Hall with the daily mail.” The girl gave a small smile, emotion seeping into her voice for the first time, while her eyes took on a distant look, one that reminded Anna of a child staring out the window at softly falling snow, or the way Nix would gaze up at the night as if hypnotised by the tiny glimmering lights that were reflected in her eyes. “I guess it’s the simple things that steal your breath away, huh?”

Her gaze still lingered above Anna’s shoulder. For her part, Nix kept silent, not that she could have given an answer anyhow. But while Anna was still learning to read her subtle mannerisms, she recognised the little slant to her head that the snowy had whenever she was deep in thought.

“I’m sorry. She must have meant a lot to you.”

The girl’s eyes flicked over to her, blinking as if coming out of a trance. And then her nose twitched. As did Anna’s. “What’s that amazing smell?”

No sooner had they spoken than the rattle of a trolley cart came rolling down the aisle.

“Any sweet treats for you three?” The trolley-witch poked her head in through the door, kindly smile transfiguring into an admonishing frown upon seeing Anna standing in the middle of the compartment.

The dark-haired girl paid for a pumpkin pastry and a box of chocolate frogs while Anna hastily took a seat by the window, setting Nix down next to her and rummaging through her pockets for change.  

“Here.” The box was floated over to her. “It’s for your owl.”

“Oh–err–thank you.” Anna stammered out a thanks. “How did you know that she likes them?”

A brow arched. “Who doesn’t like chocolate?”

One of the frogs decided to seize its chance with a spectacular leap for freedom, making it no more than a half-bound before being snatched right out of the air by the taloned-bearing foot that it was now dangling haplessly from.

“Little show-off.” Anna’s lips quirked up. But she was glad to see Nix casting off her restraints and acting like an actual owl for once. Even if only for a moment.

An owl like Nix could easily swallow a shrew whole, but as always the snowy preferred to nibble at her treat with dainty little bites. Anna didn’t think she had ever seen her throw a pellet, come to that.

With everything that was going on, she hadn’t put too much into it. Nix was a dignified owl, genteel even. If she were a human she would surely be the scion of one of those noble and ancient pure-blooded families, Anna had little doubt. And her peculiarities in temperament while odd, were oddly endearing.

"Uu-oo..." Nix hooted at her, fluting tones muffled by the beak-full of frog that she was offering to share, a soft and almost childlike affection in her eyes.

That warm, slushy feeling in Anna’s chest was probably her heart melting.

“You’re very attached to her.” The other girl observed. “How long have you had her?”

“About a month now.” Somehow it felt like way longer than that. “The employees at Eeylops had taken her in after finding her lost in the streets, lying helpless with a broken wing. I think–I think she may have been abandoned, mistreated even. It took awhile before she would let anyone touch her.”

“But she’s safe with me now.” She ran a hand down the snowy’s back. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“It’s just...sometimes I wish she could tell me what happened.”

Her jaw was clenched, an action that was mirrored by the girl across from her. Nix fluttered onto her knee, treat abandoned. A lone wing unfurled, and Anna felt the soft, slightly fraying edge of a flight feather brush gently against her cheek.  

Despite whatever trauma she had been through, all the scars Anna could not see and all the hurt she would never know, there was still a part of Nix that was as innocent as an angel, as pure as snow.

That little thing in her chest? Definitely melting like a snowman in summer.

.

The next few hours passed in a hurry. Spots of rain came and went. With the city far in its wake, the magical express and its cargo of wizarding students were now breezing through the autumn countryside, winding between sylvan hills that undulated for miles in every direction.

The dark-haired girl had gone back to her book, though her gaze would wander every so often to Nix.

Anna muffled a yawn with the back of her hand, crossing her legs and curling up in her seat, while Nix swayed in her lap, quiet and pensive. Hazy clouds on the horizon were sweeping in with the promise of more rain, but for now the backwoods was the picture of tranquillity.

Carefree laughter drifted in from the next compartment, paired with the light rocking motion of the train car. Leaden eyelids drifted shut, and then she was falling, spiralling into the darkness’ embrace.

She awoke in pain. Pain and terror. Body wrecked with trembles and the feeling of cold sweat trickling down her neck. A hand scrabbled at her chest, clutching at the place where it hurt the most. Nails raking over skin, fingers digging into flesh, anything to stop the terrible ache deep inside.

And the cold. It was all around her. Within her. Begging, demanding for release. She didn’t know if it was real or just an incarnation of the fear spreading like ice through her veins.

She forced herself to take a deep shuddering breath, releasing it through her nose. The last figments of the dream were fading, like snowflakes in the sun, and the awful howling in her ears had finally relented, leaving only the faint rumble of the coach, and a soft kree-ing sound that was so full of pain and sorrow it made the knife in Anna’s heart twist all over again.

“Nix?”

The owl’s eyes were closed, and she was quivering like a wet kitten, feathers matted and mussed. Anna could even feel the little jolts and tremors and more violent shudders rippling through her body as her sobs gathered strength.

Was Nix...having a nightmare?

The snowy flinched awake at her touch, and this time it felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest. Nix’s eyes were unfocused and distraught, and the blue ice in them looked absolutely shattered.

“Shhh, you’re okay. It’s just a dream.” The back of her hand brushed tenderly against the owl’s cheek, drying invisible tears.

Nix lurched forward, burying her face in Anna’s chest.

Anna hugged her small frame tight, not knowing what else to do. She could sense –could feel– the avalanche of emotions threatening to engulf her, could feel Nix trying to fight against the crippling fear and anguish.

At last she felt the snowy calm. With one final chilling howl, the storm was broken.

Nix still had her face burrowed in her chest, as though she was too embarrassed to come out. So Anna kept her arms around her. Judging by her stillness, the owl was no longer sobbing. She pressed closer to Anna, like a little owlet in search of warmth and comfort.

“If only you could tell me what you’re so afraid of.” Her breathy sigh echoed in the silence.

The snowy’s sleek feathers were as soft as the snow she was named for, and just as cold, making it feel like she was cuddling an owl-shaped snowball.

But the most curious thing was the light niveous of powdery snow that had begun to sift down from the ceiling.

Nix was undergoing a late summer moult, a rather common thing for owls, Mari had assured her. At times her room had resembled a life-size snow globe, with flurries of snowy white feathers whirling through the air every time Nix would beat her wings. Anna had even kept a few of the longer flight feathers in case she ran out of writing quills.

But this was plainly different. There were even a few icicles starting to form from the ceiling.

“Snow?”

Anna’s head snapped up. She had all but forgotten about the girl sharing the compartment with them. Their eyes met, teal on teal, across a veil of softy falling snow. A dark frown was etched on the other girl’s face, tacitly seeking an explanation to what she had just witnessed, and huffing at Anna’s befuddled look.

“Meteolojinx recanto.”

With a flick of her wand, the snowflakes and icicles vanished, but the girl’s brow remained tightly furrowed. “Is she alright?”

Anna nodded once. “I–I think so.”

A moment of silence dragged past.

“Did you know?”

That her owl possessed the magical ability to create ice and snow? Or how, for a minute there, she had been able to perceive Nix’s emotions, as though their hearts were somehow linked as one. She shook her head, fingering the cold metal band around the snowy’s foot, struggling to make sense of any of it in her mind.

“...no.”

.

Once again, the room was plunged into silence. Until someone knocked on the door, calling for them to get changed and ready.

In the midst of the tumult, Anna hadn’t even noticed that the train had begun to slow. She could just make out the dark silhouette of Hogsmeade station looming in the distance, growing larger by the second, faintly illuminated under the amber glow of dusk. Already the air was filled with the smell of pine carried on the breeze, intermingling with the lingering scent of freshly fallen snow.

Within minutes, the carriages were filled with the sounds of luggages being hauled down, doors sliding open, and footsteps shuffling out onto the corridor, stretching out cramped legs and wry necks. Anna too had hurriedly pulled on her school robes, stuffing Nix back into her cage and murmuring a locking charm. The snowy had given her more than enough scares for one day.

A thin hand caught hold of her arm. “What do you plan to do?”

Anna frowned, uncomprehending.

“Last I checked, owls aren’t supposed to be conjuring middling snowfalls.” The girl took a step forward, looking Anna straight in the eye. “Just think about it. If the Ministry were to catch wind of this, you could be charged with the illegal possession of a magical beast causing endangerment of human life. I’m sure I don’t have to spell out the consequences.”

“So she made a little snow –and it wasn’t even on purpose!” Anna forcefully withdrew her arm, eyes flashing angrily. “That makes her different, not dangerous.”

“Not if she can’t control her magic.”

“Of course she can control it!” Anna bristled. “She hasn’t made a single flake of snow before this!”

“What about that howler in July?” The girl’s eyes narrowed. “How do you explain that?”

“That wasn’t her!”

“And you know that, how? You said it yourself that you’ve only had her for a month.”

“Because it wasn’t!” Anna flushed indignantly, heat scorching her cheeks. Not even the Headmaster could create a snowstorm over half the country, let alone a little owl!

A dark brow twitched. “And you think those numbskulls at the Ministry are just going to take your word for it?”

“I don’t care what they think, or if I’m risking being expelled or whatever else. Nix is my owl, and there’s no way in hell I’m giving her up!” Anna practically growled out. “And besides, she could never hurt anyone –she’s afraid of people for Merlin’s sake! She’s not some monstrous beast, she’s as harmless as a mooncalf!”

“And you’re as naive as a –”

Splat! A snowball sloshed her square in the face.

Nix hid her head under her wing as her victim spat out a mouthful of snow, muttering something about blimming little floofballs under her breath.

.

With heavy feet, Anna trudged into the Great Hall, happy to be greeted by a familiar scene.

Countless wax candles floated in the air above four long tables that stretched the entire length of the hall. Most of the benches were already filled and the oak wood tables laid out with enough dinner plates and goblets to be fit for a banquet.

It looked like something that was plucked straight out of the pages of a fairy tale. Even if some of that magic was lost on her tonight.

She craned her head up to silvery clouds adrift in a nocturne sky. Nix would have loved this sight, staring entranced as the banks of clouds would swirl and part to reveal more tiny lights in the form of glittering stars.

A battered old hat had been brought onto the stage. One by one names were called out and heads peered into. Anna clapped along with the rest of her House whenever a loud call was made for ‘Gryffindor!’ One first-year, whose name she didn’t quite catch, shot her a summery smile as he scurried over to join them. She plastered on a smile and waved back, recognising him as one of the kids she had helped back at the station.

Very soon the sorting was over and the feast began. The food was scrumptious as always, but she had no stomach for it.

Conversation abounded around her. Friends catching up about their summer holidays, rumours about the new Defence against the Dark Arts Professor. Anna caught little bits and pieces, making a paltry effort to chip in. Not even the rousing talk of Quidditch could kindle her interest.

She picked at her potatoes, feeling the urge to sulk, though that could have been Nix’s rather than her own. The snowy was probably still miffed about the light rap on the beak Anna had given her, before entrusting her to a floppy-eared house-elf to be taken up to the Owlery with the rest of the owls.

“Floppy will take good care of your owl!” The elf squeaked, and while Anna was still mad at the little floofball for her snow-flinging antics, it hadn’t stopped her heart from feeling like it was about to burst at the seams when the little creature had smiled admiringly at Nix and complimented her blue eyes.

Was Nix was doing okay all by herself? She wasn’t still moping, was she? Had she taken any food at the Owlery? Anna doubted it. The snowy had always been a poor eater, needing much coaxing to accept anything that wasn’t chocolate or lingoberries.

With a sigh, Anna returned to staring gloomily at her plate of roast potatoes.

It looked like she wasn’t the only one who wanted to be elsewhere. One of the Slytherins had already taken her leave, whisking out of the hall in a billow of robes, footsteps so silent that Anna would not have noticed if not for the whispers and gossip that followed on her heels.

Over at the Hufflepuff table, she caught Mari sneaking breadcrumbs to a little gerbil sequestered under her collar.

“We found her out in the cold, during that freak snowstorm...” The senior’s words echoed in her head, as the hall reverberated with rising chatter and lively cheer.

‘Freak snowstorm’ was right, and perhaps even that was an understatement to describe the frigid spell in the middle of summer that had turned rivers to ice, bringing with it heavy gales and whiteout snow squalls that blanketed the British Isles in several feet of blowing snow. For days the Muggle news had carried headlines on the apocalyptic blight, while the wizarding community scrabbled for answers about the inexplicable outbreak of magic.

There was no way that her awkwardly-sweet, socially-inhibited, emotionally-scarred owl could have anything to do with that monstrous blizzard. She must be going crazy, to even think of the two in the same sentence.  

Feeling her spirits rise, Anna proceeded to cut herself a large slice of chocolate gateau.

.

As darkness fell, the air had turned crisp. Anna made her way up to the Owlery, taking the steps two at a time. A chilly draft hurried her along, and she was glad to be wearing her school robes over her clothes for the added warmth.

The Owlery was dark, lit only by ethereal moonlight that spilled in through the window-like apertures on the walls, reflecting off the many pairs of eyes that were bobbing and blinking down at her from the rafters.

Murky brown, brilliant orange, piercing gold and amber.

“Nix?” Anna peered into the shadows, scouring the tower for that unmistakable blue.

A chill whispered through the air, and Anna jerked her head up at the sound of something landing above her head with a barely audible ‘thud’ and a soft rustle of feathers.

“There you are!” She smiled, spotting the snowy on one of the highest vaults. The owl swivelled her head to the back, giving her owner the cold shoulder.

“Seriously now? Are you still being a huffy grump?” Anna held out a hand to coax her down, revealing the hidden slice of cake behind her back.

Nix appeared to consider it for a moment, before unfolding her wings, gliding down onto Anna’s wrist with the silence of falling snow.  

“Look at you, you’ve got fudge on your beak...” Anna chided lightly as the snowy scoffed down the chocolaty treat. “Were you going to starve yourself if I hadn’t brought you anything?”

Blue eyes turned to her, wide and doleful, and not for the first time Anna wondered how something so beautiful could hold so many secrets.

“You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Hoo?”

Anna booped her again on the beak. “Don’t give me that. You know what I mean.”

The snowy puffed herself up, gazing at her imperiously, and when that didn’t work she gave a piteous chirp.

Anna was having none of it, taking a leaf out of the owl’s book and pinning her with a long withering stare. She sensed Nix’s impulse to flee even before she felt the momentary pressure on her arm and saw the flex of wings.

In a swift motion, she snagged her hand out, grabbing the flighty owl by her large fluffy feet and flipping her around. 

The snowy shrieked, flailing her wings and trying to right herself as she hung pathetically by her ankles, looking completely nonplussed with her beak agape.

A slight tussle later, Nix was being hauled off to the Gryffindor dorms, with her back and wings wedged between Anna’s arms and chest and her feet grasped firmly out front. Fortunately everyone was still down at the feast, sparing her the pickle of having to explain what she was doing to the poor owl.

“Mandrake root!” She said brusquely before the Fat Lady could ask for the password. With a huff, the portrait swung back, allowing the Gryffindor to clamber through. Once in her room, she locked the windows and door, threw up an imperturbable charm, then tossed the captive owl onto her bed.

“No more secrets and no running away.” Anna crossed her arms over her chest. “And no throwing snowballs either.”

Nix looked suitably chastised, clicking her beak in a sullen pout. Her beautiful feathers were badly ruffled and her owl pride probably a little bruised. She fluttered onto the ledge by the windowsill, making a feeble attempt to peck at the latch.

“Hey...look at me.” Anna urged gently.

The snowy’s back was still to her, but slowly she edged her head around, shimmering blue eyes peaking out with undisguised guilt and fear.

She’s shaking. Does she think I’m angry with her?

“I’m not mad at you.” Anna pressed a hand against the owl’s side, gently nudging her around. “Well, I am a little, but that’s because I’m worried about you. I–I don’t want to lose you.”

Nix hung her head low, refusing to meet Anna’s eyes.

A sigh escaped her lips, along with a puff of thin vapoury mist, fogging up the window. White frost was beginning to form on the edges of the glass, creeping across the glistering surface of the windowpane like the goose-bumps prickling across her skin.

Anna sucked in a breath, reaching out to trace the intricate and delicate patterns of feathery frost with a mesmeric reverence. And then she froze, one hand still on the glass.

All of a sudden it hurt to breathe, and not from the cold.

There, on the rime-frosted window, was a single word etched in frozen fractals. A single word that chilled her heart cold.

“Curse.”