Chapter 1
“Ron, you're making it snow," said Hermione patiently, grabbing his wrist and redirecting his wand away from the ceiling from which, sure enough, large white flakes had started to fall. Lavender Brown, Harry noticed, glared at Hermione from a neighboring table through very red eyes, and Hermione immediately let go of Ron's arm.
"Oh yeah," said Ron, looking down at his shoulders in vague surprise. "Sorry... looks like we've all got horrible dandruff now..."
He brushed some of the fake snow off Hermione's shoulder.
1984
Ron Weasley was four years old when he remembered snow for the first time. It was wet and cold and miserable even when the sky was bright blue. And he didn’t like it, not one bit. Mummy was too busy in the kitchen with Ginny in a sling across her back. Fred, George, and Percy were out throwing snowballs at each other and occasionally at Ron when he came too close to the open window in his dad's workplace. Technically he was not allowed in here alone but Dad didn’t mind as long as he didn’t touch anything.
To little Ron though, as long as Dad didn’t know he touched something it was fair game. Bill and Charlie were home for once but Dad took them to Diagon Ally for some things Mum needed for Christmas. Worst still, Daddy took them on his newly enchanted Ford Angelia and didn’t even ask if Ron wanted to go. He didn’t, but it would have been nice if Charlie at least asked him.
He wished he could play with his brothers. But Percy said he was too little. Fred and George never wanted to play with him too. They just involved him when they wanted to play mean pranks on him. And he didn’t like snow anyway. Who wanted to get wet and cold? Not Ron that is.
A snowflake fell on his nose and prompted a tiny sneeze out of him. Another fell on his head and soon after the snow started falling around him like it was falling outside. It wasn’t cold curiously and it was not wet but it was white and sparkly and way better than the snow outside. He turned around in amazement. It was snowing! Inside the shed. How can it snow inside a building? There was no sky. But look there was! The ceiling was gone! Replaced by white fluffy clouds. Soon enough the whole garage was white.
The not-snow covered his father's desk, the whole ground, and everything else in between. He laughed out loud. This was Amazing! With a capital A. Quickly, he turned to tell Fred and George about it before a thought stopped him. It wasn’t supposed to snow inside the shed. He didn’t know how he knew it but, he knew that it didn’t snow inside a building because the ceiling blocked it. What if they get mad that he ruined Dad's shed? They'll tell Mum about it. Ohh did Ron do it? It was magic but Ron couldn’t do magic yet. Mum told him so. Was Ron in trouble for getting snow in his dad's shed?
He didn't know. He was working himself up into panicking when suddenly the snow right in front of him gathered up into two lumps that suspiciously resembled Fred and George. Now, Ron knew that he was the one who did it. He was thinking of Fred and Geroge. Panic subsiding, Ron closed his eyes and thought of the Queen he'd seen on his Dad's chess set and opened his eyes. A gasp of amazement left his lips as the regal-looking queen stood in front of him. This was amazing! Brilliant! And as the twins often exclaimed Wicked!
He didn’t want his brothers to find out and ruin this. He quickly closed the window and ran towards the door. The door was heavy and Ron tried to close it but it didn’t budge. He pushed and pushed but it didn’t even move an inch before suddenly a crystal blue hand grasped the gate above Ron's head and with a mighty pull closed the gate of the shed. Ron jumped back in slight fear and amazement as the Knight from his dad's chess set waved at him.
Soon enough all the doubts and hesitancy fled Ron's mind. His imagination ran wild as blue crystal horses and knights formed out of snow and danced around him. A princess in a sparkling dress glided gracefully across the shed. The knights fought each other in an elaborate and intricate dance and snow flowers and jewels hung from the ceiling. His dad's chair shifted into a big and icy throne. A King made of Ice sitting upon it and ordering the knights about. It was magnificent and magical and it was all Rons. He didn’t have to share it with anyone. The soft snow crunched under his feet as he ran across the shed and over the snowy obstacles that were his dad's muggle trinkets.
The air smelled of damped pine cones and hot chocolate. And everything around him was encrusted with frost. The snow fluttered around like white confetti and fell like precious diamonds from the false ceiling. Dagger-liked icicles hung from the rafters. It felt peaceful yet exciting. His chest swelled with inexplicable feelings of happiness and exhilaration. It was magic. It was wonderful. It was everything good in the world. And it wasn't cold. The breeze inside the shed didn’t sting his cheeks like the wind outside. It was pleasant like a breath of fresh air after the mold and stale smell that stuck to the Burrow in the winter.
Ron played with the princess. Rode the horse. Jumped on the shoulders of the knights as they danced about. He sat on the throne in place of the king and ordered the snow to his bidding. He was in the middle of the shed thinking about a giant dragon from one of Charlie's books, his eyes closed, when Mummy came barging into the garage, hair all over the place and eyes wide, and Ginny clinging to her neck in her arms.
"Ronald Weasley! Where have you been! What in Gordic's name is this!!"
Mummy looked furious and Ron who was covered knee-deep in the snow took an instinctive step back. Suddenly all the excitement and rush of adrenaline faded away. The knights and the queen and the princess and the King froze in their place. He felt like the cold that hadn't woven into the room suddenly made home in his heart and legs leaving a cold empty numbness that had Ron's tongue feeling heavy. And even though the snow wasn’t wet he slipped and fell on his bum slicing his palm and part of his forearm on a jutted piece of a metal trunk that held a lot of little muggle items. He would have cried out but the chill in his chest and the hard floor took his breath out of him, his eyes filled with tears of pain unexplainable grief.
Mummy was at his side in an instant all anger gone and replaced with a worried frown. Ron knew he was in trouble. He was not supposed to do magic. He noticed the blood dripping down his arm and coating his white sweater and the snow underneath. It was red like Billy's hair in the afternoon sun. Red like the spider's eyes when they looked at him through the hole in the ceiling and forced him to flee to Charlie's room. Red like the Sweater mummy made for him. Red, red, red….
"Ron!"
And Mummy's hands were on him and he was sitting on her lap. His head on her warm shoulder and Ginny's hands on his face. Mummy was on the ground and the white-sparkly snow was gone. Mummy's face was very pale and Fred and George and Percy were all standing behind her. He blinked owlishly at her tilting his head to the side and Mummy pulled him close to her chest and kissed his head.
"Mummy."
"It's alright dear. You're okay. Just a little scratch. A little magic and it won't even be here anymore."
Mummy kept murmuring reassurances in his ears but Ron wasn’t listening anymore. He was suddenly very tired and sleepy like the time he tried to stay awake all night because Billy and Charlie did it and Billy and Charlie were cool and he wanted to be cool like his big brothers. He fell asleep dreaming of snow and blood, and Billy's long hair and mummy's warm hands.