The first snow of the season had fallen heavily the night before, blanketing the Hogwarts grounds in a thick, sparkling white. The castle turrets jutted sharply against the pale winter sky, and the paths that wound through the grounds were soft and silent underfoot, muffled by layers of snow. Harry had barely been able to sleep, imagining the sight of the grounds in the soft glow of morning, and he wasn't disappointed.
He'd slipped into his cloak before breakfast, the fabric brushing silently against his robes, and crept out to the grounds. The air was crisp and cold, tingling against his cheeks, and every breath left a small cloud of mist. Children still in pajamas had begun to rush outside, laughing and shouting, leaving snow angels in the courtyard and hurling soft, powdery snow at one another. Hogwarts in winter was breathtaking and dangerous if one wasn't careful.
Harry's footsteps were careful, muted by the snow, as he made his way toward Hogsmeade. He knew the Slytherin trio would be there, he'd seen Malfoy and his companions, Crabbe and Goyle, near the village edge during breakfast. And he wasn't wrong.
Draco was leaning against a lamppost, looking impossibly smug as he watched two first-years trying to navigate the slippery path. Crabbe and Goyle flanked him like oversized shadows, grinning whenever someone stumbled. Hermione and Ron appeared first, carrying their books and scrolls from the morning's lessons, oblivious to the danger approaching.
"Watch your step, Granger," Draco drawled, tossing a snowball casually, as if testing the air. It hit the side of Hermione's arm, making her yelp and spin around.
"Malfoy!" Ron barked, stepping forward, but his boots slipped slightly on the ice, making him stagger. Crabbe laughed, and Goyle shoved him, making him almost tumble into a snowbank.
Harry's eyes narrowed. This was exactly the sort of bullying he'd hoped to stop. He slipped deeper under his invisibility cloak, the fabric hiding him completely, and crouched behind a low wall, surveying the scene. His fingers itched to intervene but silently, this time. He could make this fun.
Crabbe picked up another snowball and lobbed it toward Hermione, hitting her squarely on the shoulder. She shrieked, while Ron attempted to retaliate, grabbing a handful of snow and flinging it blindly. Draco stepped forward, his expression smug, catching the snowball midair and throwing it back with surprising precision.
"Really, Weasley, you're pathetic," Draco sneered. His laughter echoed off the snow-covered walls, chilling Harry more than the cold ever could.
Harry smirked under his cloak. It was time. He grabbed a fistful of snow and hurled it with precision, aiming at the back of Malfoy's coat. The snowball hit with a soft thud, startling him so much that he jumped forward, eyes wide. Crabbe and Goyle stumbled backward, surprised by the sudden attack from nowhere.
"What... what was that?!" Draco spun around, looking frantically, but saw no one. Harry's lips curved into a grin. He grabbed another handful of snow and sent it flying, this one hitting Goyle squarely in the chest. Goyle flailed, slipping slightly, and Crabbe stumbled over him.
Hermione gasped, spinning around in confusion, trying to figure out where the attacks were coming from. Ron's jaw dropped, eyes scanning the empty space. "Did you see that? Who?"
Malfoy's voice was sharp now, panicked in a way Harry hadn't heard before. "Come out, you little coward! Who's doing this?" He stomped a foot into the snow, sending powder flying, looking more ridiculous than ever with his perfectly arranged hair dusted in white flakes.
Harry took a deep breath and let loose a flurry of snowballs, striking Malfoy's shoulders and arms with well-aimed precision. Each hit made the Slytherin scream, duck, and stumble, his perfect composure slowly unraveling. Crabbe and Goyle tried to step in, but Harry's aim was precise, and they kept slipping or getting distracted by another snowball striking them unexpectedly.
Finally, Draco let out a frustrated roar and spun around one last time, eyes darting, hands raised as if trying to ward off invisible attackers. "This is impossible!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the crisp air. "Who dares..."
Harry let out a quiet chuckle and landed one last snowball, perfectly aimed at Malfoy's head. The blond yelped, ducked, and stumbled backward into a soft mound of snow, flailing helplessly while Crabbe and Goyle tried to pull him up, grumbling under their breath.
Hermione blinked, looking between the snow-covered Slytherins and the empty air. "Harry?" she whispered, suspicion flickering in her eyes.
Ron turned toward her, shaking his head. "Impossible. There's no one there!"
From under his cloak, Harry silently admired the chaos he'd created. Malfoy looked utterly humiliated, snow clinging to his hair and robes, Crabbe and Goyle muttering angrily beside him. Harry let out a small laugh, silent, watching as Draco finally stomped off toward Hogsmeade proper, muttering and shaking his fists, defeated,for now.
The snow crunched beneath Harry's boots as he slipped out from under his invisibility cloak, dusting himself off. He smiled at Hermione and Ron, who looked at him incredulously. "I think… maybe that was the snow's doing," Harry said, shrugging innocently.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, suspicion never leaving her gaze, while Ron just grinned. "You're unbelievable, Harry."
And for the first time that day, Harry felt a little thrill of victory not just for defending his friends, but for teaching Draco a small lesson in humility, all under the sparkle of Hogwarts' first snow.
He watched from behind a tree as Draco Malfoy stomped along, Crabbe and Goyle following like oversized shadows, his robes dusted with snow and his hair sticking up at odd angles.
Draco's grey eyes scanned the area wildly, nostrils flaring, and his jaw was tight. "I know someone did that!" he hissed under his breath, glancing from tree to tree, bush to bush, as if the culprit might reveal themselves. Crabbe shuffled nervously, mumbling, "It's... uh. It's not us, Draco."
Draco shot him a glare so sharp it could have frozen water. "No, of course not. You're completely useless, as always. I.." He broke off mid-sentence, noticing a group of first-years passing nearby. He gave them a sly, crooked smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. They gawked at him, confused, unsure if he was threatening or charming them. That was the thing about Draco, no matter how annoyed he was, there was always this magnetic pull about him, a confidence that drew attention even when he looked utterly defeated.
Harry ducked lower behind the tree, suppressing a grin. It was strangely satisfying to see Draco so unbalanced, his arrogance shaken, even if only briefly. And yet, even with snow clinging to his hair and his robes wrinkled, Draco still carried himself with that subtle poise, that impossible charm that made people, even Harry, notice.
"You're going to regret this, whoever did it," Draco muttered, finally turning toward Crabbe and Goyle. "Mark my words. Next time, you won't get away so easily." His voice was sharp, threatening, but there was that glint in his eye again, that dangerous mix of irritation and confidence that made him… alluring, even in defeat.
As they disappeared toward the main street of Hogsmeade, Harry allowed himself a quiet laugh. The snow crunched under his boots as he followed at a safe distance, thinking that, for all Draco's pride and teasing, there was something undeniably magnetic about the boy even when he was completely humiliated.
Hermione's voice pulled him back to reality. "Harry, you're insane. Come on, we have to get inside before Madam Rosmerta sees us looking like snow monsters."
Harry grinned, one last glance over his shoulder at Draco, who was now adjusting his collar and straightening his hair, muttering to himself. "Yeah… we'll see who's laughing next time."
And for once, Harry thought, maybe he wouldn't mind being caught in that game again.
Later upon eavesdropping Professor McGonagall's conversation, Harry's heart sank as the words hit him: Sirius Black, his parents' old friend, had escaped from Azkaban. At first, disbelief numbed him, the words seeming distant, almost unreal. He pressed his hands to his face, as if he could block the thought from reaching him. But the truth was undeniable, and with it came a flood of emotions he hadn't been ready to face.
Pain coiled tightly in his chest, twisting with a sharp, bitter edge. He thought of his parents, cut down when he was only a baby, and suddenly it wasn't just grief anymore. Anger rose, fierce and burning, scorching the edges of his mind. How could someone who had once been so close to them have caused or failed to prevent their deaths? A lump formed in his throat, and tears he hadn't expected spilled freely.
He sank onto the edge of his bed, hands trembling, head bowed. The anger and sorrow intertwined, each amplifying the other. For a moment, he felt small and powerless, trapped in a tide of emotions too intense to navigate. He cried, not just for himself, but for his parents, for the life stolen from him, and for the betrayal that seemed to linger in the shadows of their memory.
After Ron and Hermione spent what felt like hours beside him, speaking softly and refusing to let him sink completely into despair, Harry finally lifted his tear-streaked face. Hermione's hand remained on his arm, steadying him, while Ron offered a crooked, reassuring smile. Slowly, he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat.
They guided him through the snow-covered grounds, their presence grounding him as he trudged back toward Hogwarts. Each step was heavy, yet less unbearable with his friends at his side. By the time the castle came into view, Harry felt a fragile calm settle over him, the first in hours.