Fallen Snow

All seemed to be forgiven the next day.

Their first night apart since she had taken Nix into her home – and her heart – had given Anna a terrible case of separation anxiety, and what little sleep she got was plagued by dark spectres and ghastly dreams of Nix being locked away in a place devoid of warmth or light, terrified and alone, and trembling in the soul-leaching cold that seemed to be emanating from the very darkness itself.

Nix seemed to have fared a smidgeon better, by the very fact that she hadn’t turned the Owlery into a live-in snow globe. The snowy had been only too happy to see her, needing no coaxing to glide down onto her shoulder from where she had been dozing between a great-horned owl and a tawny on one of the tower’s upper vaults, and had even deigned to join her for breakfast in the Great Hall.

“Are you alright, Anna? I heard you tossing in your sleep, and you looked pretty shaken up earlier.” Rapunzel frowned, as she scooted over to make room at the table.

“Just a bad dream. You know how those are. Honestly, I can’t even remember what it was!” Anna fibbed, with a forced chuckle at the end.

Rapunzel’s brow was still pinched, but she accepted the excuse for what it was. Though not everyone was quite so easily placated, such as her overly-neurotic and highly-perceptive owl.   

It was a good thing that owls didn’t have eyebrows on their disc-shaped faces, or the snowy’s would be permanently etched in a frown. All she had were those imperceptible ear tufts on the top of her head that she could barely raise to indicate her displeasure. But who needed ear tufts when you had eyes that were as expressive as Nix’s…and talons to dig into the shoulder that you were perched on.

They took a seat next to Anna's quidditch mates at the Gryffindor table. Most of them had already met her new snowy owl by now, so no one stared or shuddered too hard, though there was an awkward pause in activity. As always, Nix held herself with a regal grace, staring placidly at the group, before hooting a polite greeting, though Anna suspected that the Gryffindors' loud chatter with their mouths full probably offended her sense of propriety.

“What a good snowy owl!” She praised.

Nix was certainly a less repressed owl these days, but she was still reserved and extremely reticent about being around others. While she kept up the pretence of coolness, she made sure to keep close to Anna, commandeering her lap despite there being plenty of room on the table. She sat still as a post, occasionally accepting a bit of crumpet or a nibble of toast. But Anna caught her looking wistfully as the droves of mail-bearers came swooping in to deliver the daily mail.

The strawberry blonde furrowed her brow as she reached for the letter that had been dropped in front of her, narrowly missing her bowl of Cheeri-Owls cereals by an inch.

She just wants to be a normal owl, but she doesn’t know how. She’s still hesitant and scared because secrets and isolation are all she’s ever known, besides self-doubt and fear.

It was hard to tell if those wisps of thoughts were her own or Nix’s. Or if it was something they were both thinking.

“Hey Nix, looks like we’ve got mail!” Anna slipped her arms around her, so it looked like they were reading the letter together.

The owl turned its head around, peering up at her. “Hoo?”

“It’s from Gerda.” Anna proceeded to read the letter out loud. “Dearest Anna and Nix, I hope this letter finds you well. The cottage has been too quiet without you...”

“Gerda says that it’s been a great year for her lingoberry shrubs. Her second crop has just ripened, and she wishes we were there to help her pick them, like how we did in summer. Do you remember how much fun we had? We should make that our family tradition in future!”

She brushed a thumb over the snowy’s cheek, watching as those preternatural blue eyes glistened over like ice after a thaw.

“How would you like to take a letter home? I bet Gerda would be delighted to see you show up at our cottage…”

.

The crack of dawn saw a freckled redhead whistling a jaunty tune while doing up her braids. The skies were unusually clear and crisp, with not a wisp of fog in sight.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m infinitely glad that I don’t have to drag your chronic over-sleeping arse out of bed, but whatever happened to turn Little Miss ‘I-just-have-trouble-with-mornings’ into a chittering ‘what-a-lovely-day-to-wake-everyone-up-with-my-pitchy-singing’ lark?”

Was it just her or had Rapunzel been working on her snark over the summer? Thankfully there were no actual larks around to take offence to that.

“If you’re going to take an hour to brush your hair, then I’ll be heading down to breakfast first!”

The tantalising wafts of eggs on toast and honey-glazed bacon had her mouth watering even before she entered the Great Hall. But there were also other things worth getting up for, not least to see a certain beloved snowy owl.

Nix had taken to her new role with great aplomb, ferrying letters to and from home, along with deliveries of Gerda’s homemade lingoberry fruitcakes and apple crumble pies, and even showing up one morning with a trunk of assorted items that the kindly housekeeper thought Anna might need.

The extra pair of quidditch gloves she was grateful for; the homework planner, not so much. How anyone could put up with the ruddy little thing and its endless naggings, unsolicited advice, and incessant reminders, she would never know. There had been no sympathy from Nix, who had given her a patented head-tilt, regarding her with faintly amused eyes.

She buttered up a toast and nibbled on it, though her attention was quickly diverted by the arrival of the post owls, a familiar white snowy flying in behind them.

On days like this when there was no mail to deliver, Nix would always come bearing a small gift – a white crocus flower, blooming after a late thundery shower; or the tiniest bouquet of sweet alyssum, clutched delicately in her beak. Today it was a beautiful sycamore leaf, foraged from autumn’s foliage of scarlet and gold.

She thanked the owl with an affectionate ruffle. Nix’s head was bowed, keeping absolutely still and letting out a small chirrup of protest when Anna drew her hand back.

“Aww, is my silly little floofball shy about asking for cuddles?” Anna couldn’t help teasing her.

As much as she wished that she could freeze this moment forever, eventually they did have to part ways and get on with the day.

Nix was the first to leave, taking off in a flurry of wings, seemingly in a hurry to get back to the Owlery.

“C’mon, Anna.” Rapunzel hoisted her satchel over her shoulder, urging the pouting redhead to get a move on to their first period Transfigurations class, where they were working on the highly complex subject of human metamorphosis.

By the time they filed out of the classroom, Anna had succeeded in adding a platinum-blonde streak to her hair, while Rapunzel had somehow managed to transform her golden tresses into something resembling an unspooled ball of yarn that was currently tangled around her ankles.

Second period History of Magic required no less focus and concentration, and that was just to stay awake. As if the subject wasn’t stodgy enough, it was taught by Professor Cogsworth, whose dronings could put a Norwegian Ridgeback to sleep from their soporific effect alone. Eventually she gave up the pretence of taking notes in favour of doodling a sketch of a floofy white owl in the margins of her textbook.

After that it was down to the forest grounds for Care of Magical Creatures. Polishing the jewel-encrusted shells of snapping Fire-Crabs while doing her best to not get singed wasn’t exactly the fun and relaxing class that she had been looking forward to. But she could see why the overgrown matchboxes would be distrustful of humans, due to being hunted to near extinction by unscrupulous wizard poachers. These ones were lucky that they had found their way to Hogwarts for sanctuary.

From there they headed up to the Astronomy Tower for more hapless attempts at divining the future from crystals balls and tea dregs. And finally, over to the third-floor classrooms where Defence Against the Dark Arts was taught.

“You did remember to read up on boggarts, didn’t you?” Rapunzel elbowed her in the side.

“Were we supposed to?” Anna slapped a hand over her face with a groan. “Ugh, I’m so screwed! And Scathach already has it in for me.”

Even on her best days, the DADA professor was crabbier than a Giant Fire-Crab, but she seemed to reserve particular scorn for Anna, sparing no turn to remind her that she was watching her like a murder of crows.  She could already feel the professor’s disdainful stare on her as they waited for the seventh-year Hufflepuffs and Slytherins to filter out of the classroom. Brilliant. She couldn’t think of a lousier end to the day than being subjected to more of the Professor’s snide remarks, like how a first-year could conjure a better protégo charm than her.

“Hey Anna!” Mari gave her a little wave, and she had just returned the gesture when a tuft of platinum blonde hair caught her eye. The Hufflepuff’s call made the pale blonde glance up, blinking owlishly, and Anna could almost sense her surprise at seeing her, along with something else that was hastily suppressed as Elsa averted her eyes, gnawing softly on her lip.

“Unless you’re waiting for another detention, Ms Arendelle, I suggest you get going to your next class.” The terse words were addressed to the Slytherin, who gave a little nod as she clutched her books tighter to her chest, but the Professor’s teal eyes remained narrowed at Anna, who did her best not to wilt under that scathing glare, the same one that she had received back in the Headmaster’s Office.

What crawled up her cauldron and died? Of course, the strawberry blonde kept her thoughts to herself as she scurried into the classroom, making sure to keep a wide berth from the rattling and shaking trunk sitting ominously on the Professor’s desk.  

“You don’t think…there’s a boggart in there?” She heard someone whisper.

“For those of you who haven’t neglected to do your assigned readings…” There was a meaningful pause, before Professor Scathach continued in her usual droll tone. “…you’ll know that a boggart is a shape-shifting creature that instantly assumes the form of whatever most frightens the person who encounters it. When confronting a boggart, the most important thing to remember is that it is not real. The only harm it can inflict on you, is making you believe that it is. Fear is an illusion, created by those who trust only what their eyes see, instead of what their mind knows.”

“For today’s class, we shall be practising the boggart-banishing spell. First, the incantation. Recite after me–‘Riddikulus!’”

“Riddikulus!”

They repeated that twice more, before receiving a curt nod from the Professor.  

“The key to dispelling a boggart is being able to laugh at it. To do that, one must first acknowledge what it is they fear the most. Visualise that in your head, and focus on turning it into something of amusement. The spell will then force the boggart to assume the form of what you have mentally conceived.”

My…worst…fear? Anna shook her head, mind drawing a blank. Not because she didn’t know what she was most afraid of, but because she couldn’t bring herself to picture it. Just the thought of losing Nix was enough to drive a cold spike through her heart, but even that paled in comparison to her fears of the snowy’s secret being found out.

Nix still bore the scars of whatever it was in her past that had caused her such hurt and torment. If her powers were revealed…Anna didn’t dare think of what could happen.

In her daze, she heard the Professor instructing the class to form a line, which she somehow found herself at the head of. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she could focus on nothing other than the sickening coiling in her gut, like a living, writhing beast.

“Professor, I-I c-can’t–” The trunk popped open and Anna’s heart lurched to her throat.

The cold was the first to hit her, slithering through her veins and suspending the breath in her lungs, causing her to shrink back with a half-formed gasp. Through the creeping gloom, she could just make out a small quivering form, mired in grime and dirt, and cowering from the shadows that were looming over it – shadows that were ghastlier still than the darkness itself, framing a grim outline of a wraith-like figure in a tattered, rippling cloak. 

It was just like the dream she had! Except this wasn’t a nightmare, this was…

“No…this isn’t real.” It was hard to believe that thin and cracked voice was hers, if only because her throat was too choked to speak. It failed to convince her either way.

She could feel every stricken pound of her heart, which had to be the only part of her that wasn’t frozen stiff.

She had once thought – standing next to a veritable blizzard, feeling the way the cold can go from a tingling numbness to a thousand frosted daggers piercing through her skin – that nothing could cut deeper than the cold. But the cold that was engulfing her now was nothing like that. It didn’t cut or burn, but seemed to drain every bit of strength from her limbs, every bit of warmth from her blood, and every bit of hope from her thoughts; pulling her deeper and deeper into its wretched depths.

A rotting hand snaked forward, reaching toward the wretched creature, who made no attempt to get away aside from curling piteously into itself, like a small bird that could do nothing but shiver on its bough in the dead of winter. Even its once pristine white feathers were almost all bent and broken, as though they hadn’t been replaced by new ones in years, giving it a rather affrighting look.

Tears brimmed Anna’s eyes, and she forced back the lump in her throat, but the weight in her chest left her unable to speak, unable to breathe.

“EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

Bright shimmering light erupted in her vision, one of sheer transcendent beauty that not even the bleakest darkness could eclipse, a stark contrast to the guttural growl that had called it forth.

A sharp gasp tore from her lips. Right before her eyes was the gleaming form of a white snowy owl–the source of that ethereal light, outstretched wings beating with equal grace and power as it soared through the air, a trail of silver-blue in its wake. The light drove the shrouded figure back, before it was banished back into the trunk with a shout of ‘riddikulus!’

The owl made a circling arc overhead, before returning to its caster’s shoulder, its dazzling aura casting a silvery glow across the room.  

Anna screwed up her eyes at the woman standing not two feet in front of her. For a moment it felt like she was looking into her own reflection. The Professor looked deathly pale, with eyes that were glazed and unfocused, wand still held aloft and trembling in her hand.

‘Anna! Are you okay?’

Someone was calling to her, a frantic note evident in their voice even though it was rough and faint, like a distant echo that she could barely make out over the ringing in her ears.  

“Anna?” Rapunzel laid a hand on her shoulder, brow crinkled with concern. Her lips moved, most likely repeating the question.

“Come on, Professor Scathach says we should take you to the Hospital Wing. Can you walk on your own?”

Anna nodded mutedly, not trusting herself to speak. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of a pair of glowing blue eyes, staring unblinkingly at her in a way that was so hauntingly and heart-rendingly familiar.

.

Nightfall felt ten times longer than it usually did as she lay in bed, skimming the surface of sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, that horrible image would come floating to the surface of her mind, leaving her tossing and turning like her reeling emotions, and her sheets drenched in cold sweat.  

Her sweet little owl had done her best to comfort her with soft hoots and little chirrups. But she only needed to take one look at those sad brooding eyes to know what Nix was thinking in that clever little head of hers. Of course the snowy would be blaming herself for Anna’s sudden despondency, no matter how much she tried to convince her otherwise.  

She was almost relieved when the quidditch team had been forced to scratch their morning practice, thanks to the freak snowstorm that had blown through during the night.

“Thought we only got clippers like this in friggin’ Minnesota.” Go commented dryly.

“The English weather is a thing of mystery. Torrid rains and gales come and go as they please. At times even the odd sprinkle of snow; you know, whenever someone with a little too much time on their hands decides to stir up a bit of magical mischief. But an actual snow squall?” Rapunzel shook her head. “It’s like we skipped past autumn and went straight to winter. And then there was that howler we had a couple months back…”

“The Ministry still hasn’t found an explanation for that one.” Mulan cast a glance over her shoulder at the uncharacteristically silent redhead who was bringing up the rear, dragging leaden steps like a staggering zombie. “Merlin, Anna. You look like you seen a dementor.”

Rapunzel made a shushing motion while Anna blanched. Thankfully, she was able to concoct a story about having picked a vomit-flavoured bean out of a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans this morning, which was met with greatly sympathetic looks. No one thought it odd when she hadn’t the appetite for breakfast.

A dementor. That was what that vile creature was. She had heard of them before; honestly, you had to be living under a rock not to. Most of it whispered talk that could make your skin shrivel and your flesh crawl. And now she knew it all to be true.

She hugged her knees to her chest, huddling further into her robes. It was quiet out by the Great Lake today, save for the blustery winds that brought a frigid chill, discouraging anyone not seeking seclusion or solitude from venturing this way.

But Anna wasn’t alone.

The springy grass was usually beset with a profusion of wildflowers that reminded her of the vast open meadows surrounding her cottage. Right now, though, it was more reminiscent of an icy wind-blown tundra.

Against the harsh winds rustling at its feathers, a lone snowy owl sat vigil on a stump, like an impassive monarch looking out over its barren winter kingdom. Occasionally it would take wing, flying low over the snow-covered field for short distances at a time, proving that it was really a snowy and not a plastic bag or a small clump of snow.

The snowy landed atop a low mound, once more finding naught but a few blades of grass jutting out through the snow. Despite the utter bleakness of the morning, it brought a smile to Anna’s face just watching her scuffle around on those large fuzzy feet, scraping at the frosted ground and making little pecks at it with her beak, refusing to give up hope of finding a fitting gift until she had sifted through every inch of snow.

“She’s a sweet one, isn’t she? Very easy to fall in love with.” A low voice spoke, not much louder than the wind.

Anna’s head snapped up and she lurched to her feet. As always, Professor Scathach’s features were schooled, her expression unreadable, but Anna thought she glimpsed a softness in her eyes that was gone as soon as the woman turned to her.

An uncomfortable silence followed, which the DADA Professor was the first to break. “There’s a fear in your eyes, when you look at her. You’re afraid that she’ll leave you one day, and take a piece of your heart with her.”

It hit so close to home that Anna visibly flinched. Fingers curled into fists, nails digging into the pink flesh of her palms, an act that didn’t go unnoticed by the teacher, who likewise looked to be barely restraining herself, the silver of her eyes flaring. “You can’t still be foolish enough to want to keep her with you? She doesn’t belong here. The only place where she’ll be safe is away from humans.”

Away from you.

Was that what she should do? Send Nix away? To some far-off place where no one could find her, where no one could hurt her, where she didn’t have to be afraid of her powers? A place like this–a stark, inhospitable landscape buffeted by constant winds, frozen in an eternal winter. She would be free, but would she truly be happy out there in that cold and vast loneliness?

No, Nix didn’t deserve to be alone. She deserved a home, a family, to be happy…to be loved.

“You’re wrong.” Anna lifted her head. “She belongs with me. I will keep her safe. Even if I have to overturn the world to make that happen.”

This time the Professor didn’t hide her sneer. “Spare me your puerile dribble, you ignorant and arrogant child. You’re just a foolish girl scared witless by a mere boggart, because you know nothing of the true meaning of horror. It disgusts me just looking at you, at how painfully weak and naive you are.”

“You’re right, I’m not strong enough. And I’ll never be strong enough to let her go.” Every inch of her was trembling, but her anger rendered her voice almost tranquil. “Nix is my owl. I was meant to find her, to look after her for the rest of her life. You don’t get to pick the ones you love, and you don’t get to give up on them either. Especially not when they need you the most. There’s nothing more hateful than that.”

The Professor made a noise at the back of her throat, a humourless scoff. Teal eyes continued to glare darkly, and if Anna hadn’t been blinded by her emotions, perhaps she would have seen that behind those pools of resentment, were untold depths of pain.

“You will be one day; when you realise that there’s nothing more hateful than failing to protect the one you love.”