The winter of 1998 was particularly harsh.

Harry wouldn't have really expected anything else after the year they had endured, but it was still rather a shock as September slipped into October and temperatures in the Scottish Highlands plummeted, leaving the world blanketed in white for the foreseeable future.

Surprisingly though, as October became November, and the last of the repairs were finished on the school grounds, a determined air of cheer filled the halls. The sparkling snow made everything so bright, and with ferocious Toasty Toe jinxes and Anti-Draught charms, corridors and classrooms became cosy despite the elements. The returning student body rebounded after their anguishing year by embracing the upcoming festive season with gusto. Before December had even shown its face, there were carols floating through the hallways, mince pies with every meal (including breakfast) and mistletoe lurking in the most unlikely of places.

Harry had been expecting the sombre, sorrowful melancholy of the summer to follow them into the darker months; after all they had lost, it seemed almost inevitable.

But that was before Seamus Finnigan.

Their second week into what had been dubbed the 'Eighth Year' for those students in Harry's year wishing to complete their education after the disruption of Voldemort's regime, the Irish Gryffindor had clambered up onto the table the Eighth Years all shared, and began bashing his spoon against his empty bowl until he had the attention of the entire dining hall. "I've got something to say," he'd stammered with firm resolve as everyone gawked up at him.

Everyone except Dean Thomas that was, who at that moment decided he'd prefer to hide his head under his hands.

"I'm a Gryffindor, and I'm supposed to be brave," Seamus had continued, trembling as Harry and his friends had encouraged him as best they could with nods and thumbs up. "But I've been too afraid to admit the truth for the last two years. That stops today." He had looked down at Dean with such warmth, and in turn Dean had peeked from between his fingers and given him a weak smile. "Because," Seamus announced with a gulp, addressing the whole school again. "I – I am madly in love with my best friend, and after nearly losing him last year-" He had tripped on his words as tears had sprung to his eyes, but Dean had reached forward and touched his shin, giving him courage. "After nearly losing him, I'll not spend another day pretending otherwise." He had reached down to yank Dean up beside him, grinning like a madman as they'd faced each other, arm in arm. "This here's my boyfriend, and anyone that has a problem with that, can bloody well take it up with me."

"And me!" Ron had yelled, jumping to his feet, followed by several other Eighth Years as it seemed the whole hall burst into wild applause, and Seamus had snogged Dean right there and then. 

After that Neville Longbottom had finally gotten up the courage to ask out Hannah Abbott with the most beautiful (any noisy) bunch of flowers Harry had ever seen. Then Luna Lovegood had painted a portrait of Rolf Scamander outside the fourth floor transfiguration classroom, and it showed what a good match they were when, instead of freaking out like most people Harry knew would have, Rolf had added his own far inferior but lovingly drawn portrait of her next to his. Flitch had moaned and grumbled very loudly about graffiti on school property, but yet, the artwork remained untouched as they made their way into Christmas.

The mistletoe hanging in every nook and cranny was being put through its paces, as it seemed that after so much grief and heartache, people were obviously coming to the conclusion that life was too bloody short and you should just snog who you wanted to snog.

Harry had thought it would have bothered him more than it did, seeing as he was newly single after all. But it wasn't that Ginny had broken his heart after their year apart; quite the opposite in fact. She had been as stalwart a friend as she always had been. But the horrors they had been through had changed them – they weren't the same people they were before, and the attraction had faded away.

She was thoroughly enjoying some carefree time being single, flying every chance she could get and reconnecting with old friends. She had even reached out to Cho Chang, and the two would often meet in Hogsmeade for tea. Now Harry couldn't help but find that a little strange, but he forced himself to get over it, figuring they probably had better things to discuss than what it was like to date him.