Ginny Weasley was awakened by someone bashing on the door to the 6th year girls dormitory.
"It's snowing! Hey, girls, wake up. It's snowing!" The voice was muffled by the thick door, but it was unmistakably Ron.
He pounded again on the door and then she heard a series of dull thuds as he clattered down the stairs, presumably to wake the rest of Gryffindor house.
Despite herself, she smiled and threw back her covers. Shivering in the cool morning air, she shoved her feet into her slippers and tugged on her dressing gown. She joined the other girls already crowding the window to watch the soft, white flakes tumble gracefully from the sky.
"It's so pretty," she breathed. It snowed every year at the start of the second term, and each time it took her breath away. The castle and its grounds always looked beautiful, but touched with snow it looked incredible. Magical. She rolled her eyes at the thought. That went without saying.
She watched as students began to trickle outside, footsteps now marring the large expanse of white that covered the grass outside. It was Sunday, and the hour was early, but the snow had coaxed many out of bed, it seemed.
She saw a shock of bright red hair down below, and then a messy black mop. And sure enough right behind them was a mass of brown hair. She watched as Hermione paused to charm two large snowballs to form and then hit both boys in the back.
Then her eyes moved beyond the main body of students and towards the lake. It was frozen over, the snow and the ice making crazy patterns on the surface; shades of white mixing together. She wanted to be out there.
With a grin, she went back to her bed and changed quickly, shoving her feet into her boots and grabbing her cloak and gloves as she hurried out. She reached the main hall and crossed quickly to the large doors, all but flying down the steps, her red curls streaming out behind her like a banner.
She ran beyond the snowball fights and the snowmen - and snow-Snapes - and headed towards the lake. She came to a stop at the edge and simply stood, raising her arms to the sky and twirling around, the snow feather light on her face, like a thousand tiny kisses, cold against her skin.
A happy smile tugged at her lips as she spun, smiling at the world. The world was a dark place to be right now, filled with sadness and fear. The snow leant an ethereal quality to reality, a moment out of time, light and crisp and simple, as if it could purify the world of all its evils. She could be a child - if only for an instant, for the space of a breath - free of all the troubles that pressed down and around her. And for a brief moment, she felt free.