The floor was creaking, covered in maroon and orange leaves that the boys carried inside with their boots. Due to the force of the howling wind, the shrieking shack shuddered. Despite the chilly air, the atmosphere inside was cozy. Seated on the dusty floor were two boys, the boy with the scar and messy dark hair and the boy with the blond hair, whose face was brightened by a wide smile. The cold that crept from the holes and splits in the cracked-up wood couldn’t shudder Harry, who was feeling deeply warmed. Draco pulled a silvern thermos flask from the depths of his coat, a hot cocoa, brewed by himself and spiced with cinnamon, meant for the boys to share. Whispers, laughter and the smell of cinnamon lingered through the room. A stain of cocoa stayed on Harry’s upper lip and Draco gently wipes it away with his finger. His eyes meet the oh so mesmerizing eyes of Harry Potter and they exchanged a soft kiss. Both could taste the cocoa on each others lips.