Snow fell like powdered sugar and blanketed the cold earth. Footprints left little dents in it, and the molds were filled once more with snow. Wizards and witches of all ages could be seen dotting the hilltops and streets of hogsmeade, wearing dark brown, grey, and black cloaks and coats, brightly colored scarves, and striped mittens. Some were making snow angels, others were bewitching the snow to flash neon green. Off on a little side street, on the highest hill in Hogsmeade, stood Ginny Weasley, looking all around her, taking it all in. She wore a grey cloak with large gold buttons, a red scarf, and a small smile. Her dark red hair was loose and hanging around her shoulders, and she carried a leather- bound black book.
A snow ball whizzed past her, and she turned to see Draco Malfoy dodging a return snow ball from his best friend, Vincent Crabbe. Goyle, however, was no where to be seen. Draco jumped behind a holly bush, laughing as he rolled on the ground. Ginny rolled her eyes, still smiling. Boys, she thought, shaking her head. She trudged through the snow over to Malfoy and stopped a few feet away from him.
"You nearly hit me, you know," she said her book cradled in one arm and a hand on her hip. Malfoy looked at her, standing up and brushing off the seat of his pants.
"Sorry," he said, squinting to see in the thickening snow. He couldn't quite make out who had spoken, but assumed it was another Slytherin because of her grey cloak, though he couldn't remember seeing a red- headed girl that beautiful in Slytherin. The way her red hair seemed to make a crown around her face, she looked to him like an angel. She moved in a bit closer, closing the gap between them. Now Draco could see her face: heartshaped and slightly flushed from the cold, two amber- colored eyes, and perfectly shaped lips.
"What's your name?" he finally asked, swallowing hard. As tough and crude as he was, pretty girls had always been his weakness.
Ginny shifted her book to her other arm and smiled at him before replying.
"You don't know?" He shook his head. "I'd have thought you'd have seen me with-- well, no matter. I'm Ginny."
Draco nodded, sticking out his hand to her. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
"I know. My brother and his friends can't stand you." She let go of his hand; he realized that her touch was soft even though her hands were cold.
"Who's your brother?"
"Ron Weasley," she said simply. Draco wanted to slap himself. A Weasley. He'd seen her before, but she'd never looked this... heavenly. He looked her over again, now seeing her for what she really was. He tried to find any imperfections, but could not.
"Well, I can't much stand him, either," he said, smirking at her. He couldn't help thinking how mad it would make Ron if he saw Draco with his sister.
"Sometimes he can be such a pain," Ginny agreed, sighing a little. She shifted her book again.
"What are you reading?" Draco asked, reaching out to take the heavy book.
"It's Edgar Allen Poe, a muggle, and an American," she supplied, giving him the volume. He opened it and leafed through it, his eyes scanning the pages hungrily.
"He's one of my favorites, but my father won't let me read any of his poetry, probably because Poe's a muggle."
Ginny turned from him when she heard Ron calling her from the valley below. She reached out to take her book back, pulling her hood up.
"I've got to go," she said heavily, rolling her eyes in Ron's direction. Draco gave her the thick book after a moment.
"Will you meet me at Honeyduke's next Hogsmeade weekend?" He stared at her, his grey eyes flashing.
"Yes." She turned to leave. "Oh, and Malfoy," she said, "you're not as horrible as everyone says," she added, almost in a whisper. She gave him one last look and ran down the hill.
A snow ball whizzed past her, and she turned to see Draco Malfoy dodging a return snow ball from his best friend, Vincent Crabbe. Goyle, however, was no where to be seen. Draco jumped behind a holly bush, laughing as he rolled on the ground. Ginny rolled her eyes, still smiling. Boys, she thought, shaking her head. She trudged through the snow over to Malfoy and stopped a few feet away from him.
"You nearly hit me, you know," she said her book cradled in one arm and a hand on her hip. Malfoy looked at her, standing up and brushing off the seat of his pants.
"Sorry," he said, squinting to see in the thickening snow. He couldn't quite make out who had spoken, but assumed it was another Slytherin because of her grey cloak, though he couldn't remember seeing a red- headed girl that beautiful in Slytherin. The way her red hair seemed to make a crown around her face, she looked to him like an angel. She moved in a bit closer, closing the gap between them. Now Draco could see her face: heartshaped and slightly flushed from the cold, two amber- colored eyes, and perfectly shaped lips.
"What's your name?" he finally asked, swallowing hard. As tough and crude as he was, pretty girls had always been his weakness.
Ginny shifted her book to her other arm and smiled at him before replying.
"You don't know?" He shook his head. "I'd have thought you'd have seen me with-- well, no matter. I'm Ginny."
Draco nodded, sticking out his hand to her. "I'm Draco Malfoy."
"I know. My brother and his friends can't stand you." She let go of his hand; he realized that her touch was soft even though her hands were cold.
"Who's your brother?"
"Ron Weasley," she said simply. Draco wanted to slap himself. A Weasley. He'd seen her before, but she'd never looked this... heavenly. He looked her over again, now seeing her for what she really was. He tried to find any imperfections, but could not.
"Well, I can't much stand him, either," he said, smirking at her. He couldn't help thinking how mad it would make Ron if he saw Draco with his sister.
"Sometimes he can be such a pain," Ginny agreed, sighing a little. She shifted her book again.
"What are you reading?" Draco asked, reaching out to take the heavy book.
"It's Edgar Allen Poe, a muggle, and an American," she supplied, giving him the volume. He opened it and leafed through it, his eyes scanning the pages hungrily.
"He's one of my favorites, but my father won't let me read any of his poetry, probably because Poe's a muggle."
Ginny turned from him when she heard Ron calling her from the valley below. She reached out to take her book back, pulling her hood up.
"I've got to go," she said heavily, rolling her eyes in Ron's direction. Draco gave her the thick book after a moment.
"Will you meet me at Honeyduke's next Hogsmeade weekend?" He stared at her, his grey eyes flashing.
"Yes." She turned to leave. "Oh, and Malfoy," she said, "you're not as horrible as everyone says," she added, almost in a whisper. She gave him one last look and ran down the hill.
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