Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all things related belong to J.K. Rowling
The girl had been sitting in the snow for ages. She would've figured she'd fallen asleep there, and, upon coming to this realization, she would wonder how long it had been and what hour it was. She would marvel at the sights surrounding her, and she would get a distinct feeling that she was in a painting and would even wonder if anyone were looking at it, at her.
But these were things she would have done, not did do, or had done, or even will do. No, she didn't even have the chance to fall asleep, as she would have. When her eyes had gotten heavy, the book in her hand had fallen forward, the weight of the snow releasing its encasement back to its counterparts, the other flakes.
This brought the girl back to her senses and left her to wonder why she was falling asleep in the snow. But more of a pressing matter to the recesses of her mind was why her book had suddenly become laden with snow, when it hadn't been the moment before her eyes had grown heavy. She was certain her eyes had only closed for a brief moment in time, a blink of her eye, more like, and the book tipped in that very moment.
While she sat pondering, she took a moment to glance up, and in that glance up she found her answer in the form of a boy. This boy gazed down at her with a lazy look. It was a look of waiting, of boredom. He'd been waiting on her, surely, or else he wouldn't have given her that look, possibly saving it for another moment, a different person. But he wasn't saving it; he was clearly wearing it, no masks. So when she gazed back, she realized it was a look intended for her and took the look, drinking it in. And once her thirst was quenched she decided to humor him.
"Yes, Wood?" She asked politely, looking back down at her book, so as if to ask him down with out directly doing so.
"I was hoping we could do something productive, besides almost falling asleep in the snow, I mean," Wood smiled as he jumped down. Wood was a curious name, perhaps it was because he blended into the tree he sat on, or maybe he was tough as wood, or perhaps his family just had a curious attachment to wood. But at any rate, he was known as Wood to most of the world.
"As in Quidditch, you mean," the girl shook her head, sending hair back to join its comrades who complied with staying out of her face.
"Oh, Quidditch, swimming with the Giant Squid, anything productive," he waved his hand about, now sitting next to her and encountering for himself the feeling of sitting in snow.
"I see," she murmured, closing the book, suddenly finding it a trivial matter to know what page she was on, "As fun as swimming with the Giant Squid in the snow sounds, Oliver, I'm afraid I'd probably prefer working on Quidditch strategies."
"Oh, dear, you're breaking my heart, darling," Oliver replied. That was a more suitable name for boy. And she preferred it, when he was playing nicely.
"I'm afraid I just can't help that," she answered.
"Well, if we really must," he grabbed at his heart, feigning pain for a moment, before sending her a half smile, "I'm alright."
"Oh, I never doubted you'd be anything but fine," she stated in a singsong voice, standing up.
"I'm fine? You really think so?" He asked as he stood, his voice playing with her ear drums, calling to her own, trying to make it voice an opinion. She lost the playful manner with which they'd been speaking when he asked, however.
"I don't think you're fine," she murmured. And she felt bad for crushing his hopes, however playful they were, but she felt justified in saying it.
"Oh," he looked down, and for the time being she wasn't allowed to know whether he was serious or not. "So what am I, then?"
"In the hopes of not sounding cheesy, I'd prefer not to answer," she replied, looking down herself.
"The more cheesy, the better, my dear," his voice smiled at her, willing her to tell him, to let her mouth do the talking and take her mind out of the equation.
"Well," she couldn't help but giggle at herself, "I'd rather say you were beautiful."
"I see," he replied, this time allowing his hands to pull her mouth up, to bring her to him. Instead of just bring her up, he brought her to his own mouth, smiling through it all.
And when he released her she wanted more, but felt contented all the same. She let herself fall flat on her feet, realizing she'd risen to her toes. She could feel the rosy hue lifting in her cheeks as she held her book to her chest. He smiled, taking one of the grasping hands to find a new home in his own and letting his warmth spread through her body like a blazing fire. It spread to the very tips of her fingers and toes and she hoped with all her might that there wasn't a force on the planet that could extinguish it. He brought her hand to his lips, writing sweet nothings on it, before leading her off toward the castle.
"And, Katie," he grinned at her, "I think you're beautiful, too."
Ah, some random little story. Mostly for the KBOW challenge in the forums. 'Cause I enjoy them. I promise one day I'll write something exciting about them. :)