cigarette daydream || james potter

"No time at all, I followed you into the hall,"

December arrived almost overnight.

One morning the grounds had been damp with autumn rain, the trees still clinging desperately to their final copper and amber leaves. The next, Hogwarts had been transformed into something that looked as though it had stepped straight out of one of the moving Christmas cards sold in Hogsmeade.

Snow covered every inch of the grounds in a thick, untouched blanket of white, softening the sharp edges of the ancient castle walls and turning the rolling hills surrounding Hogwarts into gentle waves of glittering frost. The Black Lake had begun freezing around its edges, sheets of thin ice shimmering beneath the pale winter sun, while smoke curled lazily from the castle's hundreds of chimneys, disappearing into the steel-grey sky above.

The cold was relentless.

A bitter wind howled around the towers day and night, squeezing through tiny gaps in ancient windows and making every corridor feel just a little colder than it should have. It nipped at students' cheeks the moment they stepped outside, leaving noses pink and fingers numb within minutes despite thick woollen gloves and scarves.

The castle itself seemed to embrace the season.

Evergreen garlands twisted elegantly around the staircases, each one decorated with tiny enchanted candles that flickered warmly despite producing no smoke. Wreaths hung proudly on heavy oak doors, ribbons of crimson and gold draped across the banisters, while enchanted snowflakes drifted lazily through the Entrance Hall before melting into nothingness just above the stone floor.

Peeves had somehow managed to charm several suits of armour into singing terribly out-of-tune Christmas carols whenever anyone walked past them.

Even Filch looked only slightly less miserable than usual.

The Great Hall had become even more extravagant.

Twelve enormous Christmas trees towered over the house tables, their branches weighed down with glittering ornaments that moved of their own accord. Tiny golden fairies darted between pine needles carrying glowing stars, while enchanted icicles hanging from the ceiling caught the candlelight and scattered it across the room in thousands of sparkling reflections.

Above everyone's heads, the enchanted ceiling mirrored the winter sky outside.

Gentle snow continued falling overhead, though not a single flake ever reached the students below.

The warmth inside the hall contrasted sharply with the frozen world beyond the windows.

Students laughed loudly as they tucked into steaming bowls of porridge, cinnamon pastries and mugs of hot chocolate, while owls swooped overhead carrying letters and parcels wrapped in festive paper from excited families counting down the days until Christmas.

At the Gryffindor table...

Estella looked thoroughly unimpressed.

She rested her chin lazily against one hand, absent-mindedly stirring her untouched porridge while the school choir filled the Great Hall with yet another rendition of *God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs.*

Her eyes rolled dramatically.

"They've sung that three times already."

Nobody answered.

Mostly because everyone else seemed to be enjoying it.

The choir stood proudly near the staff table wearing bright scarlet scarves, singing enthusiastically enough to shake the floating candles overhead.

Estella wished they would stop.

Christmas music had always grated on her nerves.

She couldn't understand how everyone else smiled whenever December arrived.