Archie was born and bred in Scotland, from his accent to the Gaelic language his mother had ensured he grew up learning to being able to bear the brutally cold and snowy Scottish winters. Very rarely did a winter come and go in Scotland without snowfall and this year was no different. As the Ravenclaw boy wandered across the lawns he kicked the fresh layer of snow around that had settled over night, his red hair a stark contrast against the white powder. Not many people ventured out of the castle in this weather, especially now that the Hogsmeade visits had been put on hold. Some students risked the odd snowball fight here and there but mostly everyone stayed indoors, except for one second year girl apparently.

“Rosie…” He mentally grimaced at the sound of Archiekins being called across the school yard, though it was better than some nicknames he had had over the years. Though he wasn’t in the habit of correcting pretty girls; she could call him whatever she wanted. They weren’t close persay, Rose was in Ainsley’s year and house, that was the main reason they knew each other. Whenever Archie dropped by the Gryffindor Tower to drop some baked goodies off for Ainsley generally everyone else flocked to him as well.

“No brownies today, I’m ‘fraid.”