The snow in late December looked like ashes on the Hogwarts grounds. Darkness tinted your window in the early morning. The festivities had emptied more than half of the Castle. The place had become quieter these days, if not for one person: Theodore Nott. That guy from your year with that stupid Italian accent had to resort to his damn ass-kissers since his friends had gone home for Christmas. It seemed like he had become ten times more irritating than usual.

It wasn't very common for you to hate someone, you didn't usually criticize people. But Theo, Merliln, that guy was a pimple stuck so deep in your skin that even without touching it he bothered you. He was cocky, conceited, and a womanizer. Yeah, he was cute, so what? That didn't give him the right to be a jerk.

You were in your bed, the sheets rumpled at the foot of your bed, a black leather notebook in your hands as you chewed on a pencil, trying to get creativity to come down from the sky. You were alone, your roommates gone.

You got up reluctantly, only to find that Italian guy you hated standing in the doorway, beaten up, with a bloody nose and a black eye. “Sorry to bother you so late,” he muttered. He looked like a beaten animal, “My friends are gone and I have nowhere to go.”