𝟏.| ✬ 𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓇 ℬ𝒾𝓁𝓁, ✬ {ℬ. 𝒲ℯ𝒶𝓈𝓁ℯ𝓎}

\𝒻𝒾𝒻𝓉ℯℯ𝓃\

~𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓉ℯ𝓇 - 𝓈ℯ𝒸ℴ𝓃𝒹 𝓎ℯ𝒶𝓇~

It was a beautiful December afternoon. There was fresh snow covering every surface and the sun shone on the grounds, making everything glimmer. Eleanora walked towards the lake without a real destination in mind, but stopped when a snowball grazed her back.

"You got her!" George's voice carried across the yard.

Eleanora turned around just as another snowball whizzed right past her head. "Oi!" she called to the boys. "You two have terrible aim." The twins laughed and Fred threw another snowball, which Eleanora dodged. She made one of her own and hurled it at Fred with all her might. It caught him square in the face.

"That's what you get for messing with a chaser," another voice called. Before the twins could turn around, Bill's snowball hit George in the ribs. He yelped. Eleanora started to laugh, but as she turned, George got her in the side of the head.

An all out war ensued. Eleanora and Bill had the unfair advantage of age and, in Eleanora's case, weeks of quidditch training, on their side, but the twins held up pretty well. Mid-battle, Bill hurriedly taught Eleanora the spell for enchanting snowballs to go wherever you wanted them to and after that, the twins didn't stand a chance. When they finished demolishing his brothers, Bill turned to Eleanora, breathless.

"You're not wearing a coat," he said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, and it's bloody freezing." She shivered. They all hurried inside, strategically avoiding Filch so as not to get yelled at for tracking water all through the castle. When they got up to the common room, Bill went to shower before going out with his girlfriend and Eleanora sat in front of the fire with both twins, warming their hands together and recounting the events of the afternoon over steaming mugs of hot cocoa.

~

The dungeons were freezing in the winter. Eleanora didn't know how Snape survived his many hours down there. He didn't seem to hold a grudge against her for being out of bed past hours, something she found relieving if a little suspicious.

Eleanora had started thinking more and more about which side certain wizards were on. She thought about the names she'd heard back when she lived in the Marks manor, either from her parents talking or from various tapestries and portraits around the house. She knew her father and Snape had been friends at school, but she didn't know where that placed him on the moral spectrum.

Eleanora, partnered with Phillipa, who proved to be very proficient in potions, brewed their Swelling Solution in no time. Snape used their potion as an example in front of the class, tipping some of it into the mouth of a toad and watching it swell to nearly three times its original size before giving it a Deflating Draught to bring it back. Snape nodded his approval. "Well done, five points to Gryffindor."

Phillipa muttered in Eleanora's ear, "Well, isn't he in a cheery mood." Eleanora smiled a little as she helped clean up their station.

The snow kept falling, layer after layer piling on the cold ground, and Charlie Weasley refused to cancel quidditch practices. He ran the team through drills and plays for hours, not stopping until they got it right. Eleanora and Oliver worked together to beg Charlie to cut practice an hour short some nights just so they could do homework. He only occasionally agreed to it. All of the work paid off, though, because they didn't lose a single game all winter. Slytherin was ready to have a fit by the time they'd lost their eighth game to Gryffindor. Eleanora made twenty-seven goals against the Slytherin keeper, a broad-shouldered sixth year boy, putting them ahead by nearly three hundred points. Charlie had never been prouder of one of his players.