The blonde haired boy sat sullenly by himself as snow fell all around him, snowflakes softly landing on his pale, reddened cheeks.

“Stupid potter.” He would mutter quietly, rubbing his cheek as he felt the cold wind bite into his flesh like knives. He hates the cold, more than he hated that pathetic little potter.

He'd sigh quietly to himself, staring down at his lap as he rubbed his hands together. The soft sounds of your footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, he hadn't expected anyone to come looking for him.