There was something very unfair about using magic during a snowball fight.
Draco glared at the tree where the three snowballs had come from and wiped snow off his shoulder. Fine, he could play that way. He was a bit annoyed that he’d not thought of the idea in the first place, however. With a wave of his wand, he created a shield around him and had to smirk when he saw the shimmering glow follow him.
“I can cheat, too,” he pointed out smugly. Another wave of his wand sent two snowballs, perfectly crafted with his own gloved hands, towards the tall boy crouched behind the tree. He nearly giggled when the snowballs swung around the tree and hit Nott right on the head. He didn’t, of course, because Malfoys do not giggle. But he had been tempted.
“It’s not called cheating, Malfoy,” Nott called out right before a counter-charm hit the shield around Draco. “It’s called winning!”
Draco managed to duck down before the next assault of snowballs hit him. He bit his lip to keep from laughing as he found himself lying on the cold snow. “This is war, Nott!” he called out with as little amusement as possible. He gripped his wand tightly in his leather-clad hand and desperately thought of an appropriate charm. He grinned suddenly as he waved his wand.
“Bloody fuck, Malfoy!” Nott exclaimed as he found large icicles pinning him in place around the base of the tree. “That could have killed me, you prat!”
“Admit defeat, Nott,” Draco urged as he crawled along the wet snow, grimacing slightly as he thought about just how dirty the snow probably was. “If you do, I might be generous enough to not force you to do anything too awful.”
“Why would I admit defeat, Malfoy? I’m going to win,” Nott replied right before he spoke the words to a warming charm.
Draco couldn’t hear what Nott said next so he was surprised to find his face suddenly full of snow. He sputtered and coughed as he spat out the cold substance. His eyes narrowed and he snarled slightly as he wiped his glove over his mouth. A few whispered words and a pile of snowballs were resting beside him. He began to send them at Nott, one right after the other, listening with smug satisfaction as the other boy cursed. “I can keep this up all day, Nott. Just say ‘I lose and you win’ and we’ll be done with it.”
“Forget it, Malfoy. It’s not going to be that easy!” Nott said before he deflected the snowballs and sent them back at Malfoy.
Draco smiled as he sent out a heat charm and turned the snowballs to water before they reached him. He ducked out of the way just in case the water froze very quickly and was soon out of the line of fire. He did laugh, finally, just a sharp bark of laughter that escaped before he could stop himself. He heard Nott start to laugh and he grinned as he sent another snowball to the tree.
They continued their fight for hours, until their fingers were cold even with the warming charms and thick gloves covering them. Draco’s face felt frozen and he wouldn’t doubt his cheeks weren’t pink. He pulled his scarf tighter around his neck and shivered as he leaned his back against the tree.
“Truce?” Nott called out.
Draco smiled. “Yes, truce,” he replied as he stood up and cautiously peaked out from behind the tree. He ducked in time to miss the snowball but managed to throw his own first. When he ventured out from behind the tree the next time, he and Nott faced one another with their wands lowered.
“Your pants at throwing,” Nott informed him with a smile.
“Hmph. I’m perfect,” Draco replied with a smile of his own.
“Guess we should go back not that Father would be sober enough to remember he has a son much less care where he’s been for the past few hours,” he said with a wry smile and a slight edge of bitterness.
“My father will be sober but still won’t care so long as I’ve stayed out of the way,” Draco muttered before he put his wand in his pocket and rubbed his gloves over his face. “I think I’m frozen.”
“Yeah,” Nott agreed as he pushed his stringy hair away from his face and stared at Draco.
“What?” he demanded finally, his cheeks turning pink not only from the cold as he shifted back and forth trying to get warm.
“Nothing,” Nott mumbled and looked away. “It’s fucking cold.”
“Really, Nott. Must you use such foul Muggle terms? I’d expect it from one of those Weasleys but I had hoped you were more soph-“ Draco was startled to find thin lips pressed against his before he could finish the insult. He hesitated a moment and then shyly parted his lips.
It wasn’t his first kiss, of course. He was sixteen, after all. But it was the first time he’d been kissed by another boy. It was different than Pansy’s wet and sloppy kisses, and he heard a low moan that took him several heartbeats to realize was his own.
When Nott pulled back, Draco was rather disappointed to feel cold air on his now wet and chapped lips. He stared at the other boy and finally looked away when no answers as to why Nott had just snogged him were forthcoming. “We should go in now,” he said softly. “I’ll have one of the house elves make cocoa. It’s a good day for cocoa.”
“Malfoy, about that ki-“
“I especially like marshmallows in my cocoa,” he continued as though Nott hadn’t spoken. He glanced at his housemate and smiled hesitantly. “This was…fun. Perhaps we should do it again sometime, without the snowball fight.” His gaze dropped to Nott’s lips for a moment and then he turned to walk back to the house. It was rather nice sharing a secret with someone, he decided, and he couldn’t help but wonder what Nott’s lips would taste like after a glass of warm cocoa.
The End
Snowball Fight
Story Notes:
Dec 16, 2005