Fallen Snow

All she could hear were Nibbles’ little squeaks as the gerbil burrowed deeper into her pocket, not liking the close proximity to the Slytherin.

“I don’t hear–”

A cold hand seized hers, its owner stalking off with great urgency down the corridor. Anna felt herself being pulled along, scrambling to keep up with the older girl’s fleet-footed steps.

Just as a squat figure burst through the wall, floating a couple feet off the floor.

“Peeves.” Anna uttered a small expletive as the poltergeist’s beady eyes flitted toward them, instantly lighting up with some sort of malefic glee as he rubbed two hammy fists together, pierrot hat bobbing up and down on his head.

It was hardly her first run-in with Peeves. In fact, you would be hard-pressed to find any student who hadn’t fallen foul of the poltergeist’s pranks and mischief.

“Ooooooh! What does Peevsie spy with his little eye?” Peeves gave a mock gasp, ignoring Anna’s dark glare. “A Gryffindor fraternizing with a Slytherin? For shame!”

“We’re not…” Elsa bit her lip. “We were just heading back to our dorms.”

“Do you think I started haunting the castle yesterday?” Peeves harrumphed. “Nobody sneaks around at night holding hands if they weren’t engaged in something…truly scandalous!”

“Should report the two of you, I should…” He leered at them.

“You should just go away and leave us alone!” Anna whipped out her wand. “Or I’ll cast a tongue-tying jinx on you!”

It was an empty threat of course, but one Peeves did not take too kindly to. His face puckered sourly and he rose up in the air, bellowing at the top of his lungs. “STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!”

The pressure around her hand tightened, and that was all the urging Anna needed. She didn’t need to think twice before scarpering off at a dead run, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her.

The ground was blurring beneath her feet, and she was beginning to feel the first twinges of a stitch in her side. Elsa’s hand remained clasped around hers and she grasped back at it, the icy coldness making her skin tingle.

“In here!”

They darted over to a small broom closet, which Elsa jerked open, dragging Anna in after her and pulling the doors shut behind them. She ended up pressed up against the Slytherin’s chest, amidst the mops and buckets, breath still coming in harsh ragged gasps.

Merlin, anyone who happened on them now might think they were having a secret romp in the closet! A thought which had her blushing to the tips of her ears. She could only hope that Peeves’ little ruckus hadn’t attracted the attention of one of the prefects on patrol…

It didn’t, by some incredible stroke of luck. And the poltergeist soon floated away sullenly, toppling a suit of armour as he did.

Elsa exhaled a breathy sigh, her breath cold against Anna’s cheek. She must have noticed the younger girl’s shiver, as she released her hand with a murmured apology.

For a moment they simply stared unblinkingly at each other, the absence of Elsa’s touch leaving Anna feeling oddly colder still.

“We–err–we sure dodged a bludger there!” She gave a shaky laugh, still trying to push all thoughts of romps and closets out of her head.

Elsa nodded mutedly, having resumed her gnawing on her bottom lip. Her tailored sweater was slightly rumpled, and a few errant stands of moonlit winter had escaped their confines to nestle against her cheeks. Anna had to suppress the urge to tuck a stray wisp behind the shell of her ear, recalling how they had felt as soft as her owl’s feathers.

“Anna, I…” Their eyes met and the Slytherin’s imperturbable aura seemed to desert her for a second, though it was impossible to discern the emotions swirling in those fathomless blue depths.

“I…about your owl. There might be something she wants to tell you but can’t find the words to.” There was a gaping pause as if she was weighing her words carefully. “I know what it’s like to have a secret. It’s so hard and terrifying to divulge, and easier to keep putting off…again and again…because you’re scared….of hurting the one you––that you feel indebted to, with the truth.…”

A secret? Anna’s heart gave a violent lurch.

Did Elsa know? About Nix’s magic? The day on the Astronomy Tower…had she seen something?

“She’s just an owl! What secrets could she have?”

She shot a nervous glance at the Slytherin, receiving a wan smile back.

“Right…what secrets could she have?”

.

The lights were on in the infirmary.

That had caught Anna’s eye as she crept back to Gryffindor Tower, toeing around corners and padding along corridors. She hadn’t realised how much she had relied on Nix’s premonitory warnings–a light squeeze of talons whenever the owl’s sensitive hearing would pick up the sound of approaching footsteps.

Had Elsa taken her advice to call in on the infirmary? The Slytherin had begged her leave as soon as they had scrabbled out of the closet, disappearing in a flurry of robes before Anna could even get a word in edgewise.

On impulse–and definitely against her better judgement–she found herself sidling down a flight of stairs onto the first floor corridor.

And damn-near slipping on a slick spot of–  

Blood?

The spatter was not the only blood stain on the floor, Anna realised with a queasy jolt of her stomach. But it didn’t stop her from following the rivulets of dark crimson that formed a bloody trail, leading to the entrance of the infirmary.

Now that she was within earshot, she could make out two separate voices. The first she recognised as Belle’s. The second, the tart, terse tones of Professor Scathach.

She pressed closer, flattening herself against a pillar and peering through a gap between the hardwood doors. The DADA Professor was seated on the side of a bed, looking as dispassionate as the infirmary’s clinical white walls. Her right robe sleeve was ripped, exposing a nasty gorge on her arm.

“…just a flesh wound…”

“…bitten by a runespoor, not a basilisk…”

“…I know their fangs are poisonous, don’t need a bloody lecture…”

“Actually, runespoor fangs are venomous, not poisonous.” Belle corrected, as she resumed tending to the gash with a wad of gauze soaked in a deep purple liquid that smoked and hissed when pressed to the wound, while pointedly ignoring the venomous glare from her patient.

“Can’t say you didn’t deserve that. Surely you didn’t think you could just slink up to the nest of a three-headed serpent, walk off with its eggs, and not get bitten for your troubles?”

At the foot of the bed, Anna spied a small burlap sack containing several large gelatinous globs. Were those the runespoor eggs? She couldn’t fathom what the Professor would want with them, but she did know that they were worth a pretty penny on the black market.

The perpetual frown on Professor Scathach’s face had deepened into a scowl and she opened her mouth to make a suitably cutting retort. But Belle was having none of it.

“Seriously, what are you up to?” She asked sternly. “You know you’ve got to be careful. You’re threading on thin ice as it is. The Headmaster is already starting to suspect…heck, I’ve seen her giving you more than a few long hard stares.”

Anna heard the Professor heave an aggravated sigh, eventually agreeing to be cautious, but declining to say if she would be continuing her secret forays into the Forbidden Forest.

“Look, I know what I’m doing.” Her words held a tone of finality. “I’m not a hapless little dolt like she is. As for what I plan to do, I should think that would be plainly obvious.”

It was the Healer’s turn to sigh. “We’ve been through this before.” She said heavily. “I know it’s hard, but the only thing we can do now is to wait–”

“I’VE DONE MY WAITING! THIRTEEN YEARS!”

Anna couldn’t help shrinking back as phials and trays clattered to the floor, the crash of a table and a shower of breaking glass shattering the stillness of the infirmary. She caught a glimpse of blood-shot eyes, glowering and suffused. 

“Calm down.” Belle’s voice was pained and pleading. “You’re not being rational.”

“Rational?” Scathach spat with a mirthless laugh, face contorting in a snarl. Anna thought she looked quite deranged. “Do you know what it feels like? That gut wrenching pain that leaves you unable to process any rational thought?”

“I care about her too, just as much as y––A–Anna!”

The Professor’s head snapped around, like a vampire scenting blood.

A wave of cold washed over Anna, knowing she had been discovered. Clammy sweat beaded on her brow, blood congealing in her veins. The entire atmosphere had shifted. Even the air was deathly still. She could hear her own shallow breaths, breathing in the awful silence that was enveloping them.

“Anna, what are you doing here? Is there something you need?” It was the Healer who recovered first, offering a small smile that was a little too frayed and forced.

Anna shook her head dumbly, unable to meet Belle’s wide and stricken eyes or Professor Scathach’s contemptuous ones.

It honestly felt like they were the three heads of a runespoor that were locked in an edgy standoff, although one of them looked like it was about to bite the other two off.

The impasse was broken by a soft hooting in the distance. An owl calling for its mate.

Scathach blinked. For a fleeting moment, the mad gleam in her eyes seemed to be replaced by a far-off look, as though she was gazing into the past, or the future. Then her features hardened. With a swish of robes, she snatched up the burlap sack and swept forward out of the room, clipped footsteps disappearing down the hall.

“Will…” Anna swallowed, her throat gritty and dry.

“She’ll be fine. As far as her arm goes, anyway…” Belle’s hazel eyes were looking at her very sadly. “…if only all wounds were so easy to heal.”

“Now, I presume you have a good reason for being out of bed at this hour?”

Thankfully, Anna’s not-entirely-untrue excuse of ‘pursuing a runaway gerbil halfway across the castle’ was accepted with nothing more than a quirk of an eyebrow from Belle, and the red-faced Gryffindor wasted no time in skedaddling off to her dormitory with no further detours.

Even now, she could still feel Professor Scathach’s eyes boring into her.

Rapunzel had lugged her book bag back from the library, but homework was less an afterthought than a forgotten memory at this point.

She didn’t even bother disrobing and changing into her pyjamas before collapsing into bed and pulling the covers up to her chin, wishing nothing more than to sink into the oblivion of sleep.

.

The picturesque little village of Hogsmeade looked like something straight out of a storybook, lined with thatched stone cottages–sparkling under a blanket of fresh snow, fire-warmed inns–with smoke curling off their chimney-pots, and hedgerows of holly and blackthorn–where robins and wrens congregated in their forage for berries, warbling merrily to no one in particular. A raft of mallard ducks bobbed down a thawing stream, a sparrowhawk lisped overhead, and the air was filled with the chirps and whistles of redwings and other wintertime visitors, amongst them a regal snowy owl.

Anna carried her on her arm, Gryffindor House scarves bundled around their necks. All around them, the flocks of students were just as warmly dressed, braving the cold brought on by the latest freak snowfall.

“…we have to go to Honeydukes! I’m almost out of chocolate frogs, and they’re Nix’s favourite too. She’s been looking rather poorly lately. Mari tells me it’s because she’s growing out her winter feathers and needs to be eating at least six lemmings a day to prepare for it, though I can’t imagine how she can have any more feathers than she already does.” She blathered to Rapunzel as the trio headed up the street, boots crunching the last autumn leaves while the bare branches of trees creaked in the wind.

Nix chirruped upon hearing her name. Anna thought it adorable how her head would swivel from side to side, taking in the sights and sounds.

Now and then she would mirror the owl’s actions, keeping an eye out for a head of tufty blond hair. To her dismay, there had been no sign of the reserved Slytherin, but she had spotted Belle and Professor Scathach emerging from the Apothecary and made sure to give them a wide berth.

The snowy had been far less enthused about the confections at Honeydukes that Anna had attempted to ply her with – Glacial Snow Flakes that ‘melt (in) your mouth!’, Ice Mice that ‘make your teeth chitter and squeak!’, Exploding Bonbons that ‘are pretty much what it says on the tin!’, just to name a few.

But she was happy to share a large snow cone.

Despite the chattering of Anna’s teeth, it felt like she was slurping on the most belly-warming bowl of pumpkin soup. Nix’s eyes were smiling, and the snowy looked genuinely content, for once not worrying her little head off about anything and everything, though there was a wistfulness that Anna could sense from her.

Perhaps she was wishing that the day would never end.

“Anyone up for some Butterbeer? My treat!”

They hustled across the street to The Three Broomsticks, arms laden with bags of tooth-rotting candies. As they passed Spintwitches, Anna felt the snowy tug at her robes, gesturing with a wing toward the window where the latest model of the Nimbus racing broom series was being displayed. They admired it for a minute before continuing on their way, much to the dismay of Nix, who was carried off despite her hoots of protest.

After a round of drinks by a toasty log fire, Rapunzel suggested a visit to Tomes and Scrolls, a curated antiquarian and used bookstore located on the outskirts of the little town.

Anna couldn’t say she fancied the idea. “Oh c’mon Punzy, let’s go to Zonko’s instead. What will a bunch of dusty old books get you, other than a twitchy and stuffy nose?”

“Oh, I don’t know, an education perhaps?” The blonde answered dryly.

Anna wrinkled her nose. “And what will I do with that?”

Rapunzel looked highly affronted. If she had feathers she would have ruffled them indignantly.

“Peck her for me, will you?” She bade Nix, who was only too happy to oblige. The snowy had thrown her weight behind Rapunzel when the latter had ratted Anna out about her unfinished homework, clicking her beak disapprovingly and even taking up vigil by her human's side every evening, supervising the completion of her readings and essays.

A few mollifying pets later, they were off to Tomes and Scrolls.

The better part of the hour was spent browsing the aisles of bookshelves, surrounded by the earthly scent of old tomes and parchments. Anna had her nose in an edge-worn manual entitled ‘You and Your Owl’ when she heard a snide drawl.

“Well, well. Fancy meeting you here.” Cassandra sniffed, eyeing first Anna then the owl on her arm in turn. “I see you brought your emotional support human along. And here I thought you’d finally gotten over your crippling social anxiety.”

“Leave that owl alone, Cass! She hasn’t done anything to you.” Rapunzel cut in with a scowl, having emerged from the innards of the store with a small haul of books in her arms, and a nettled look on her face.

Cassandra looked like she wanted to say more, but decided it was best not to get in Rapunzel’s hair when she was looking like an angry Veela.

Though it didn’t stop her from tossing a final parting shot over her shoulder.

“You may be wearing a red and gold scarf, but no one will ever mistake you for a Gryffindor.”

“She's a right git, but she’s not wrong.” Rapunzel shook her head, once the Slytherin was gone on her unmerry way.

“Look, Anna…” She sighed. “I know you adore that owl, and she looks at you like she wants to give you the sun and the moon and the stars. But it’s just…there’s something off about her…I can’t put my finger on it. Just, well…sometimes she seems almost human…”

“She does have impeccable table manners.” Anna tried to laugh it off, but her wry chuckle only made the blonde frown harder.

“No – I mean it frankly feels like she’s a neurotically anxious and emotionally repressed human in the body of a beautiful snowy owl. And you, you’re so focused on taking care of her that you forget to think of yourself as your own person. And don’t you deny it.”

“Then I won’t.” Anna simply stated, not wanting to deliberate the matter when her owl needed comforting.

“Anna, surely you must see that this isn’t good for you. Or her. I mean, what will she do without you?”

“She'll always have me.” 

They heard the chime of the brass shop bell, along with a jolly greeting. “Good day, Belle! I have the book you wanted!”

“Thank you, Sir.” The dark-haired beauty stepped toward the counter, her doe eyes blinking as she took in the two fifth-year Gryffindors and the bundle of fluff and books in their arms. “Oh…hello Anna, and Rapunzel. Fancy seeing you two here.”

“…hi…yea, fancy that…” Anna replied, in a small voice.

“‘A Midsummer Night's Snow’ by Anders Christian Hansen.” Rapunzel peered at the leather-bound tome that Belle had come to pick up. “Is this another one of those cautionary tales, warning young witches and wizards about the dangers of misusing their magic, or worse, not learning how to control it?” 

“Oh no, Anders is a Muggle author.” Belle laughed lightly. “And he writes the most fascinating stories of swords and sorcery, tales of heroes and monsters, ballads of romance and adventures–”

“You mean fairy tales? And I suppose an act of true love saves the day in the end?” Rapunzel interjected with a scrunch of her nose, which made Belle chuckle, a dark strand of hair falling into her eye.

“An ineffable thing love may be, but it is also the purest and most powerful form of magic there is.”

She tilted her head, her soft yet meaningful gaze falling upon a pair of preternatural blue eyes.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Snowy?”