Fallen Snow

The evening had gone back to normal. For everyone except Anna, that is.

On any other day, she would be scarfing down her dinner with an enthusiasm normally reserved for chocolate and quidditch. Not stewing over her plate of potatoes that had long gone cold.

Her dour mood was mirrored in the enchanted sky, which had grown dark and cheerless as twilight fell. Even the moon had sequestered itself behind a shroud of grey cloud.

Not unsurprisingly, her little run-in with Gothel had set tongues wagging, with murmurs of ‘cursed ice’ abounding through the Great Hall like sparks of wildfire. The Gryffindors at her table gave her curious looks as they dug into their meals, but thankfully kept whatever prying questions they had to themselves.

Nix’s magic isn’t cursed! Anna grounded her teeth angrily. She couldn’t yell that out loud, as much as she wanted to, instead settling for stabbing her fork more viciously into her lamp chop.

When her apple pie suffered the same fate, Rapunzel decided it was time to dispossess her of the silverware, vanishing the hapless pastry along with it.

“Just ignore them. It’ll blow over like a cold. No one takes Gothel seriously anyway. That woman is nuttier than a fruitcake.”

She was right, of course, though it didn’t make Anna feel any better.

“If your owl were here, she would’ve given you a good nip on the wrist.” Rapunzel added humourlessly.

If Nix were here, she would be nestled in Anna’s lap like a soft feathery cushion, paying little mind to the gossip and drivel, or swivelling her head away in outright dismissal–or in other words, the same treatment that she gave to the premium owl treats Anna had bought specially for her.

Anger evaporating, the strawberry blonde sank back in her seat. She wished she hadn’t destroyed that slice of apple pie. She could have taken it to Nix when she stopped by the Owlery to bid her goodnight, and implore her not to throw any more snowballs at sleazy Professors.

“Ugh, the kid’s forgotten his Remembrall again…” She heard Rapunzel groan as they stood to leave.

“I’ll look for him!” Teal eyes swept the room, spotting the absent-minded boy with a knot of students who seemed to be immersed in some kind of debate.

“I’m telling you, it’s true!” One of the Ravenclaws was saying loudly. “We were up on the Astronomy Tower with our telescopes, just like every Friday night. It was near the end of class when it happened. The first thing that threw me was the cold. In just minutes, I could hardly feel my fingers! Then one by one the stars began to disappear, as though the light had been sucked out of them, and the next thing we knew, there were snowflakes in the air!”  

Olaf leaned in closer, listening with rapt attention as the boy recounted the tale to the crowd of absorbed listeners.

“And that’s when I saw it! A winged beast! Flying across the Great Lake, toward the forest. Leaving a trail of frost and ice, and ramping up the winds and snow with each beat of its great white wings!”

A cold chill washed over Anna, her heart suspended in her chest.

White wings…frost and ice…could he mean…?

“Could it have been a Thunderbird?”

“Thunderbirds don’t summon snowstorms, you nit!”

“It was probably just a Hippogriff. I’ve seen them flying over the forest at night.”

“Or maybe, it was just the snow playing tricks with your mind?”

Suddenly, the crowd was talking all at once, in an amalgam of incredulity and intrigue.

“What did it look like?” Someone jabbed in. “Did it have three pairs of wings like a Pegasus? Or the body of a lion and the head of an eagle like a Griffin?”

The Ravenclaw frowned in thought. “It was hard to tell from the distance, but I thought it looked rather much like a Harpy. Or a Veela, but with wings sprouting from its shoulders in place of arms. I would’ve gotten a better look with my telescope. But before I could turn my sights on it, it was gone, disappeared into the frozen fog.”

“Do you think it’s real?” Olaf whispered over the speculations and murmurings, his wide, ingenuous eyes lighting up. “I wish I could have seen it!”

Anna exhaled breathily, needing a moment to recover from the cold sweat that had broken out over her body.

But the fears that had brought it on were assuaged. There was no way that bird-human creature could have been Nix.

Frankly, she hadn’t the foggiest idea what it was. It didn’t sound like anything she had read of in ‘The Compendium of Magical Beasts: A Guide to Magizoology's Most Elusive Beings’. And she had read it from cover to cover twice, searching fruitlessly for answers about Nix’s magic.

Perhaps the boy had been mistaken after all.

“I don’t know…” She said after a considered pause. “But don’t you go looking for it now! The Forbidden Forest is forbidden for a reason. There’re vicious and murderous creatures in there. I heard there’s even a nest of Acromantulas. Having eight legs is one thing, but eight eyes? Now if that doesn’t give you the shivers…”

That took the edge of Olaf’s curiosity, but just to be sure, Anna had him pinky promise not to take one step into the forest, unless given explicit permission and accompanied by a Professor.

.

A pale crescent moon was all that lit Anna’s path, having dispensed with a wand-lighting charm as she picked her way up the trail that she knew by heart. The grounds were eerily still, the silence broken only by the light tread of her footsteps, and the deep hooting calls that resonated hollowly through the night.

It was darker still in the Owlery, near pitch-black if not for the hundred-or-so glowing sets of eyes that studded the darkness, like little ghostly spectres.

Anna couldn’t help the shiver that ran through her at the spine-tingling sight. Once, she had woken up in the middle of the night to a pair of glowing blue eyes staring at her, nearly jumping out of her skin before realising that it was just her owl.

“Nix?” Several ghostly eyes turned to her, but the snowy’s scintillating blue orbs were not amongst them.

“It’s me, Nix! Come here girl!” Anna called again, craning her neck around in her best impression of an owl.

Where was that little floofball? She should have come flying up by now, looking for pets. Had something scared or alarmed her, or was she off brooding somewhere by her lonesome? The snowy always felt most secure when she was alone and hiding. But where in Hogwarts could she have gone? And why wasn’t she responding to Anna’s calls?

Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, Anna let her gaze drift up, towards the glittery black expanse that Nix had spent so many nights staring at, an unfathomable sadness in her eyes. Through the wan moonlight, she could just make out the faint silhouette of a lightning-struck tower, the highest point in the castle.

The Astronomy Tower. It was out of bounds to students outside of class. And there were no classes there tonight.

Somehow, she had a hunch–an inkling in her gut–that Nix would be there. It was a shot in the dark, but she hoped she was right.

Mind made up, Anna wasted no time setting off across the grounds. It was past curfew by now, which meant she had to take a circuitous route as she traversed the castle, avoiding the main passages and skirting any prefects who were patrolling the empty hallways.

A flight of steep spiral stairs led to the top of the lofty tower. Anna took them two at a time, footsteps echoing off the walls and punctuating the silence. She was acutely aware of the ache in her legs and the stitch in her side, as well as a familiar coldness that was gradually descending over her.

The roof that she emerged onto was bare to the chilly night air, with a crown of crenellated ramparts, and an unobscured view of the star-spangled sky.

As she stood in the dark, straining her eyes and ears for the faintest stir, her attention was drawn to an inconspicuous figure perched precariously on one of the gaps between the ramparts, draped in hushed shadows and silvery starlight.

Glazed ice coated the low wall, as if fresh from a freezing rainfall–more evidence that Nix was, or had been, here. Perhaps she had been frightened off by this student, who was not only risking being caught out of bed at this hour, but strangely enough, seemed to be sound asleep.

The girl’s eyes were closed, oblivious to the world. But as Anna crept towards her, she could make out the tight pinch of her brow, the slow but uneven cadence to her breathing, and the way her head would jerk from side to side, causing a few errant strands of snowy blond hair to come loose and nestle on her cheeks.

She seemed so…small…and fragile, words that Anna would never have associated with the impassive and immaculate Snow Queen.

Anna bit her lip. Should she try to wake her? With the way she was shifting restlessly in her sleep, it was a wonder she hadn’t fallen off the ledge. What was she thinking falling asleep here, of all places?

The girl–Elsa’s thin arms were hugged protectively around herself. Somehow it reminded Anna of all the times she had seen Nix quivering in her sleep, wings pulled in close to her body, knowing the nightmares had begun again, and there was nothing she could do to soothe the snowy’s anguish aside from murmuring little words of comfort and softly stroking her feathers, until the tremors would cease.

Slowly, a hand reached out, hovering hesitantly over a thin wiry shoulder. Just as the Slytherin gave another agitated twitch, and Anna’s fingers ended up brushing against a tuft of snowy blonde hair.

Blue eyes flew open, blinking at first blearily, then in surprise as they fell upon her. For a moment, Anna could have sworn she saw the girl’s pale lips curving up, her creased brow smoothing as a soft smile worked its way across her face.

“An–” Elsa froze mid-syllabus, as if shocked to hear her own voice.

At once her eyes frosted over, hardening into little chips of ice that seemed to shine–no, not shine, glow–in the dark.

Anna shifted her weight between her feet, struggling for something to fill the void. “Erm…hi? I’m sorry I startled you. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

A little tension melted off Elsa’s shoulders, but her expression remained guarded and wary.

“Did I say anything…in my sleep?” She asked stiffly. Underneath the icy veneer, Anna thought she could hear a ragged edge in her voice.

Honestly, she had been half expecting the Slytherin to snarl pithily that it was none of her concern, or to icily request to be left alone. She certainly wasn’t expecting that, nor the apprehension that had slipped through the cracks in the ice.

“No, you didn’t.” She answered, adding hesitantly with a nervous swallow. “But it looked like you were having a nightmare. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Elsa breathed a short sigh, visibly relieved.

“I’m fine.” Her features softened a fraction, the corners of her mouth creasing in what was presumably a smile but came off more as a grimace. But right away that frigid aura seemed to dissipate. Gone was the full-scale winter storm, in its place a light flurry of snow, the kind that made you want to reach out and touch it.

Anna shook herself out of her trance. “So err, do you come up here often?”

“Sometimes.” Elsa responded awkwardly, as if unaccustomed to having a casual conversation. “When I want to look at the stars.”

The stars!

“Nix!” Anna whirled around, almost knocking over a mounted telescope. With her focus turned, she failed to notice Elsa’s sharp wince. But she was aware of the sudden shift in the air–the disquieted stirring, and the penetrating cold seeping into her bones.

Her eyes darted between the indiscernible shapes and drab silhouettes blending seamlessly into the shadows. But there was only one pair of chilling blue eyes gleaming through the darkness, belonging to the inscrutable Slytherin.

Those eyes were currently narrowed at her as she leaned over the glaze-coated wall, trying to see if the snowy had ensconced herself on the tower’s steepled roof. An icy draft whisked through her, along with a violent shiver, her grip slipping on the slick surface, body listing dangerously forward-

A hand shot out, snagging a fistful of robes and yanking her back.

Anna sucked in a breath, inhaling the scent of freshly fallen snow.

Slowly, she pried open her eyelids, blinking uncomprehendingly at the soft powdery snow that she was lying on. Well, to be precise, she was lying on top of Elsa, who was lying on the heap of pristine white snow.

For a moment they both stared at each other, eyes locked and chests heaving. Elsa’s breath was cold against her cheek, the pallid moonlight making her look even paler than she normally did. Her hand was still fisted in Anna’s robes, while Anna’s were rested on her chest.

“You can, erm, let go of me now.”

The talon-like grip on her robes was released and Anna scrambled off the older girl, a heated flush suffusing her cheeks. “This is awkward…not that you’re awkward, but we’re–I’m awkward…and you’re the most beautiful girl in school, who just saved me from having to be scraped off the sidewalk…”

Elsa continued to stare, piercing her with icy blue eyes.

“I mean, Punzy always said I should stay away from museums. Pretty sure she meant tall towers too.”

“And staircases?” A dainty brow quirked.

Anna cringed. She saw that? Wait.Did she just…crack a joke?

“That wasn’t even my fault!” She protested with a pout. “You must think I’m a total klutz.” 

Elsa shook her head, a frond of snowy blonde hair falling into her eyes. “I think you were very brave standing up to Gothel.”

Anna could feel the heat rising on her cheeks again under the blonde’s heavy gaze. A sneaking suspicion stole over her. Had Elsa been the one to conjure the snow back there too? Cushioning her fall just as she had done here, even discreetly lobbing snowballs at Gothel?

She watched the Slytherin carefully, but the girl’s expression betrayed nothing.

Nah, it couldn’t be. And besides, the snowballs were undoubtedly Nix’s handiwork.

Where was that owl anyway?

“Hey, did you see a white snowy owl? I thought she might be here. Her name is Nix. She belongs to me.”

“A white owl?” Elsa’s features shuttered, and she looked away with a small grimace. “There was one. But it flew off when I came.”

“Oh.” Poor thing must have gotten quite the fright, judging by the ice she had left on the walls.

For all the sangfroid poise and unaffected airs she put on, the snowy was as skittish as they come, spooking at leaves and startling at the slightest of things. Like a cawing crow or a gust of wind. Or someone walking quietly into a room.

It was a good thing that nights up here were so often steeped in cold fog and freezing winds, so the traces of hoarfrost wouldn’t raise too much suspicion.

“You must’ve scared her away–Not that you’re intimidating or anything! She’s just a shy little bean. A little mumpish at the outset but a real sweetheart once you get to know her.”

“Is she?” Elsa bit her lip, still studiously avoiding Anna’s gaze. “Is there a reason you’re looking for her?”

Anna’s brow crinkled. “No, I…I just wanted to make sure she’s okay. She wasn’t at the Owlery and it worried me that she wasn’t answering to my calls, which isn’t like her at all.”

The muscles in Elsa’s jaw tightened. Her hooded gaze was dipped, casting her features in shadow.

“I think it’s best that I leave. She won’t come if I’m here.”

“Wait!”

Elsa paused, halfway to the door, with a glance over a thin willowy shoulder as she waited for Anna to continue.

“I…” Anna fiddled with a loose thread on her sleeve. “I still haven’t thanked you for, you know, saving me…so umm, thanks! And goodnight.”

Elsa’s smile was small and strained. “Goodnight, Anna.”

Her voice was as soft as the halo of starlight around her, but it was the way she had said her name that made Anna’s heart jitter.

Ah-na.

That was how Gerda said it–always with a warm and kindly smile. And her father too–on the rare occasions when he wasn’t always caught up with his work in the Auror’s Office. The only other person who pronounced it like that was Professor Scathach–albeit with a tone of condescension and thinly veiled disdain.  

Her gaze lingered on the doorway that the blonde had disappeared through, the light tread of her footsteps growing softer, fainter, until they had faded into the night.

There was a flicker of movement in the periphery of her vision. Anna swivelled around, breath catching in her throat.

“Nix!”

Sure enough, the snowy had finally decided to show herself, swooping soundlessly over the ramparts like a small ghost, and landing on Anna’s arm in a flutter of wings.

“There you are! Where were you off sulking to, you little floofball?” Anna chided gently.

“Hoo?”

“You! You had me so worried, you know that?” Anna gave her a little tweak on the beak, though she supposed she should be used to it by now. Worrying about Nix seemed to be all she ever did these days.

Nix gave a meek chirp, tucking her head in and looking incredibly contrite. Her beautiful white feathers were vaguely dishevelled, a little rumpled and matted in places, a few even sticking the wrong way, as though she had been jolted awake from another harrowing dream.

Somehow Anna wasn’t surprised. The snowy still slept fitfully, sometimes barely at all, and when she did it was seldom peaceful, the nightmares following her like a shadow.

“Guess I’ll just have to spend the rest of my life worrying about you.” She murmured, going back to stroking the owl’s soft cheek with the back of her finger, eliciting a weary but contented sigh and even an adorable little yawn.

Nix blinked sleepily at her, snuggling into her thick down of feathers, the lower lids of her eyes slowly rising to meet the upper ones, making them look like little inverted smiles. To Anna, it was perhaps the closest thing to seeing the snowy smiling.

Humming softly, she continued her ministrations, until the snowy had all but melted into her arms, surrendering to sleep. One fuzzy foot was clasped around her wrist, while the other was clutched at her robes, talons grasping the fabric so tightly as if afraid that Anna would disappear if she let go.