Forgotten Scarves and Stolen Hearts - Drarry

The First Snow Fall

The first fall of snow was always a magical event. You wake up to a whole different world, something so enchanting came so easily. how could it be? How could it be that you fall asleep in one world and end up waking into another? it was truly magical, and nothing could compare.

Biting colds and bitter winds. But none of that mattered. As far as the eye could see, was a sight so amazing, so pure, it was almost unreal. it was like a full cotton field in bloom, so delicate, but oh so beautiful. its appearance presented like purity, the immaculate detail of every little snow flake. it was breathtaking.

Shady skies and endless clouds. Things that can make something so dangerous, could create something so beautiful. There really was nothing like it. The first sign of snow fall in winter, in those cold, blistering days, floating down so gracefully, so carefully. Grazing against the obstacles in its way, before finally, landing in the perfect place. Like the perfect puzzle piece.

Its amazing. How something so small, so delicate, can be so strong at the same time. Millions of floating diamonds pouring from the endless abyss of cotton clouds. Millions glistening in the early morning sun-rays. To land, to graze, and make a masterpiece. A masterpiece that could be so easily manipulated, but still end up so beautiful.

It was perfect in Harry's eyes. Everything so peaceful, so silent that the smallest of noises could shatter it in a mere second. He cherished these moments, when there was only the silence and his thoughts. No loud, quirky friends, no screams of fans. It was silent.It was lonely. It was perfect. He didn't even mind that, in a rush to be alone, he had forgotten his scarf.

Now here he was, in the numbing coldness of frosty gems, in the center of the swirling masterpiece that was unfolding before his emerald orbs. And he couldn't be more happy about it. Even as the sharp winds kissed and bit at his sun-kissed skin, all he could do was sit on the old, worn wooden bench. Letting the pieces of his happiness descend down onto him, like he was a piece of the canvas surrounding him. The thought brought a new warmth through him, a different kind of warmth.

A smile spread across his face, the warmth so familiar, yet so strange and uncommon. He couldn't place his finger on it, it was so nostalgic yet so distinguishable. It irked him, it made him twitch. He didn't like being left alone in the dark, especially at his own thoughts and emotions. But he noticed, he felt this warmth so more often then before, and yet, it was still like a stranger knocking at the door. He felt it around his friends, the warmth practically bursting out his chest.

But then he would feel it around others. The small spark of the warmth prickling through his veins whenever the twins would put their arm around him, whenever he gets on his broom, whenever he would notice the gentle gazes that Hermione and Ron directed at each other when they thought no one would notice. it made him feel happy, delighted...blessed.

Then there was other moments too. Whenever he did a stupid thing and Hermione would shout at him. It made him feel safe. Protected. It was rare for him to feel like that, he's always been the one protecting, not the protected. It made him pleased, yet afraid. So afraid that something may happen and that he wouldn't be able to put a stop to it. But the moment he gets confused at is, he feels the warmth around Draco Malfoy.

His nemesis, the person who's been trying to get rid of him since day one. Since his piercing silver eye's had landed on his own emerald ones. Them eyes, oh he remembers exactly how those eyes were. Glowing brightly in the low light of the Great Hall, outshining all the lights and candles. His eyes so full of mischief, yet so interested. Then the slow dim at the rejection of his friendship. Those eyes that could out shine stars, suddenly subdued, like he was actually disappointed.

His heart throbs at the memory.

He could never forget them eyes that day. Those burning eyes of hatred began that day, and honestly, he wasn't sure if regretted his decision that day, but he does know that those eyes sent trembles down his spine and a blooming heat in his chest.