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It was Christmas Eve morning, and all eight Gryffindor seventh years were seated around the common room fire place in a variety of strange ways. The three girls were all lying right around the fire feet merely inches from the flame, chatting aimlessly amongst themselves. Ron, sitting in a very slouched position on his chair, was bobbing his head for no apparent reason other than that of an attempt to amuse himself. Then again, it might have been because he was exceedingly drunk, owning to the early morning bet among him, Harry, and the house elves. Neville was sitting cross legged with his back twisted sideways and his forehead resting on his right knee. Seamus could have been found lying sideways on a large, over-stuffed chair with his legs over one arm and his head backwards over the other, and laying on the ground with his feet thrown over the arm of the nearest couch, was Harry. Dean, on the other hand, was sitting meditation style, with his hands resting on his knees and appeared to be deep in thought about something that none of the others could even attempt to fathom. After all, what was there to think about when you’re on vacation and it’s the morning of Christmas Eve?

All of a sudden, Dean leapt up from his chair and sprinted up the stair case into the boy’s dormitory, collecting many odd glances on his way. A few minutes later, after everyone else had returned to their previous state of boredom, a loud voice rang out, making all seven of them jump out of their skins.

“HA! I FOUND IT!� the voice said. This loud outburst was shortly followed by a loud thunder as feet were pounding down the stair case. The source of the voice was soon revealed. Moments later, Dean was bounding down the stair case and over to his friends, clutching a large leather bound book in his arms. “LOOK GUYS! I FOUND IT!� was his only answer to quizzical faces surrounding.

After a few moments of silence an awkward voice spoke out. “Ummm…. Yea,� Neville started in a timid voice, “and what exactly is it you have found Dean?�

Dean gave a loud maniacal laugh. “Well, are we bored?" completely ignoring Neville's question.

“Yes,� was the unanimous answer.

“And do we not know what to do?�

“Yes,� was once again the answer.

“Is it Christmas Eve?� Dean inquired further.

“No Dean, it’s Halloween!� Harry shouted with an eye roll. “Of course it’s Christmas Eve!� Ron, sitting relatively near Harry, cringed at his loud voice.

“And are we in the Gryffindor Common Room?�

All at once the seven students gave the same reply, “What are you getting at DEAN?�

“Well,� he continued as if no one was angry at his ridiculous questions, “according to my book, What to Do When You Are Bored on Christmas Eve and You’re Stuck in the Gryffindor Common Room, the first thing it suggests is to have a ferocious snow ball fight.� His voice, loud as it was, was filled with pure glee.

Silence and a few odd glances amongst the seventh years was all that occupied the time after Dean’s proposition. “Well?� he inquired. “How about it?� His face shown with the glee of a young boy entering a candy shop, and leaving with pockets filled to the brim with candy.

Ron suddenly stood, and swaying slightly on his unstable feet, replied in a sloppy tone. “A’right, I’m all for it! Wha ‘bout you Harry? You gonna join the fun?�

Laughing at the sight of a drunken Ron attempting speech, Harry agreed and soon all others figured, ‘why not?’ And they decided to join the snowball fight. After they all gave their consent, they began to form the rules.

“I think we should have it girls vs. guys!� Seamus inputted cheerfully. The five Gryffindor guys seemed to think this as a great idea. The girls, on the other hand, had a different view on the matter, and their sudden uproar proved it.

“But that’s totally unfair!� Lavender Complained.

Hermione immediately jumped up from her seat and shouted, “We would be out numbered three to five!�

“And,� Parvati added, “Men are naturally stronger than women, although we do have the stronger minds.� This remark drew a few glares from the five boys seated around her.

“Well, I suppose you could have Ron!� Harry so thoughtfully offered. “He would join your team in a heartbeat; everyone knows he has the hots for Hermione there!� he said, eyes twinkling.

“But Ron would be so bloody useless he’s… Wait, what did you just say?� Hermione sank back into her chair, an odd smile starting to form on her lips, the last of Harry’s words having now dawned on her. All Harry did was grin.

“I think what Hermione was going to say was that Ron is so bloody drunk and incapacitated that he wouldn’t be able to find the difference between a human and a tree stump!� Lavenders eyes flashed with anger as she continued. “He would end up attacking us as well as you! No, I say we have an every man or woman for him or herself!� She said proudly, pounding her fist on the table.

This idea, having appealed to everyone, became to first rule of the snowball fight. And after much more squabbling and fighting, shouts and laughter, the rules were finally set and written down:

Our Rules For The Great And Ferocious Snowball Fight:
1. Every man/woman for him/herself, there is NO teaming up on the opposite sex.
2. Only snow may be used in the fight. (It was wide knowledge where Hagrid took Fang out to do his business.)
3. This fight will be fought without wands.
4. The winner will be declared when all others forfeit, are unable to move or flee.

Once the rules were all plastered in the participants’ heads, they set out for the grounds. The only entertaining thing to happen on their trek to the grounds was when Peeves snuck up behind the drunken Ron and started to poke him in various areas of his body. This caused Ron and swing around, swearing madly, looking for the source of the finger. Not seeing the invisible Peeves, he decided to blame Neville, who was in fact the farthest person from him. He charged him down the hall, screaming insanely all the way, and out into the snow covered landscape.

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So with the rules set, our eight Gryffindors began the battle. They did not, however, know that soon, they would not be attacking each other but instead fighting for their lives against a ferocious team of Evil Snowmen. Raging

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A/N
A special thanks to my wonder beta grangergurl!!! Thanks!!!!

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I guess I will start off with a little recap. So, the last time we saw the eight teenagers, they were walking through Hogwarts to get to the grounds on Christmas Eve, with the exception of Ron and Neville. Neville was running at full speed trying to get away from a drunken Ron, who was chasing him for something that he had nothing to do with.

After seeing Ron chasing Neville mercilessly through the hall ways, the other six decided that it was in the best interest of Neville to prevent Ron from reaching him. Luckily Ron was not very hard to catch; he could hardly walk in a straight line and kept falling if he gained enough momentum. Neville, on the other hand, was no where to be seen.

Five minutes later, Neville was found hiding behind an overgrown brush scared out of his wits with his face as pale as the snow around him, not much was scarier than a drunken Ron chasing you like a mad man. Once they were all together they went though a last overview of all the rules. “OK you guys,� Harry began, “we all know the rules; Every man/woman for him/herself, there is NO teaming up, only snow and no wands.� As a precaution, all their wands had been left in the Gryffindor Tower. The eight disbanded and had ten minutes to go their separate ways and prepare themselves for battle.

Once the ten minutes were up, eight loud choruses of “ATTACK!� were heard throughout the grounds of Hogwarts. And thus, The Great and Ferocious Battle began.

* * * * *

“Oh, Ron, don’t be such a baby!� Harry said to a whimpering Ron who was whipping the snow out of his eyes. “It’s just a little snow!�

“But, Harry,� Ron whined, “it stings!�

“Well, if you can’t handle a simple snowball fight, then why don’t you go make some snowmen friends to play with?� huffed Harry as he ducked from an incoming snowball that found its mark on a different victim, Lavender.

“FINE!� Ron shouted. “I will. Stupid boy who lived…� He stalked off, mumbling under his breath rude comments about Harry.

Harry was momentarily surprised that Ron had actually left and was to preoccupied to see a large snowball coming in on his left. WHAM! The snowball smacked directly into his left cheek. After whipping the snow out of his ear, he heard Dean crackling up with laughter. “You should’ve seen you face, Harry!� he laughed. “You were like…!� He made a face of complete idiocy with huge eyes sketched with surprise and lips screaming with a silent shout.

While Dean was busy laughing at him getting hit by a snowball, Harry, fumingly reached down to picked up his own pile of snow and hurdled it straight and his face. But since Dean played chaser, his aim was much better than Harry’s. Poor aim, on top of his ferocious anger, caused the snowball sail right past Dean and land right on the back of Hermione’s head.

Harry, seeing Hermione seize up at the icy chill, dove behind a snow bank so she wouldn’t see him. Whipping around, Hermione saw Dean struggling to stand up and Parvati, bent down to pack up a fresh ball. Seeing Parvati as the most likely to be at fault of her newly soaked head, she charged, with a ball ready in her hand. But to everyone’s surprise, she didn’t throw it; instead she ran up behind her, pulled on the back of her robes and shoved a handful of snow onto her bare back. A milk-curdling screech pierced through everyone’s ears.

As Parvati turned around, twitching like mad, Hermione was right up in her face with a satisfied smirk, one that no one had seen since the day she punched Malfoy back in the third year. “ACK!� She shouted, continuing with her twitch like dancing, “I am SO going to get you for that, Hermione!� as she ran off a large chunk of snow was seen falling out of the back of her robes, followed by a loud sigh of relief.

A little ways to the right of the group was Seamus and Neville. After Neville threw a snowball at Seamus’s face, Seamus did almost the same thing as Hermione, he charged at Neville. The difference was that Seamus didn’t have a snowball; he was simply running at Neville, with intent to tackle. Once Neville realized Seamus’s intentions, his eyes grew wide and tried to back up. When he backed up, his foot caught on a stick and he fell back at exactly the same time Seamus jumped at him. Once in the air, Seamus, noticed that the only thing in his path was, well, nothing. He curled into a ball to prevent injury to his neck and ended up rolling quite a ways before crashing full-force into Harry, who was still crouched by the snow bank.

Now, so far Lavender had managed to stay, for the most part, out of harm’s way. But this was all about to change. An anger-stricken Parvati was making her way towards Lavender looking murderous.

"Lavender!" Parvati shouted at her totally oblivious friend. "Hey, thanks for the heads up! So much for friends having each others back!" her eyes flashed menacingly. "I ought to repay the favor!" true to her word, Parvati threw the slushiest snowball she could make, and with her aim spot on, it found its target.

“EEK! Why did you do that? You’re going to make my mascara run, you evil little twit!� Lavender wailed. She began profusely whipping at her eyes trying to make them look like she hadn’t been beaten up. With her left hand still going at it, her right bent down to scoop up a ball of slush. Packing it one-handedly to the best of her ability she attempted to throw it towards her friend’s voice with her eyes closed.

Parvati began laughing evilly at the other girl’s inability to see and therefore throw properly; she didn’t even have to move to avoid being hit by a snowball. Instead, it came very close to hitting Neville who stood there dumbstruck watching a ball soar towards him, but at the last minute, the wind pick up and it landed gracefully in a small heap next to his left foot.

Neville didn’t take to well with almost being pummeled by a soggy snowball, so he sought out his revenge on the hysterically laughing Patil twin. As quickly as he could, he began grabbing mounds of snow and roundly packing them into the desired shape. After having fifteen or so balls made and in his arms he trudged over to the girls, stopping about twenty feet away he took his first ball, aimed and fired. Not waiting to see if he made his mark, he swiftly shot off the remaining balls.

Looking back at them, he was surprised to find that most had made their mark and that the girls were currently seeking out shelter from under their arms. Brushing his hands off in an arrogant manner, he shot his nose into the air, squared his shoulders and stalked off in the opposite direction of the cowering and infuriated girls.

As the fight raged on, the players continually got more and more soaked. Harry and Dean, previously stuck together as they roll down a hill, finally were able to disentangle themselves from mounds of snow and each other and once again joined in the battle.

The snow passed from person to person for quite a while, sometimes hitting the desired person and sometimes not. After other 20 or so minutes of battle, a terrified scream was heard from over the hill, due north. The seven contestants watched horrifyingly entranced at the hill, all holding their breath in fright. Soon, a figure was seen at the top, “Hey, it’s just Ron!� Harry shouted, squinting at the hill. He turned around to scoop up some snow, thinking it’s the perfect time to get revenge on Dean for tackling him, now that he was preoccupied with Ron. He threw it at Dean, who did not at all have the response he was looking for. He didn’t even register the fact that the snowball was currently sticking to his cheek.

“Umm… Harry? I don’t think it’s just Ron.� confused, Harry looked back at the hill at the sight made his jaw drop.

“RUN!� he shouted. Ron had indeed returned, but he was accompanied by a large number of evil looking snowmen.

A/N: Yay! So there you have it, chapie two. I hope you enjoyed it, and I know I said that they would be a lot longer last chapter but I felt that this was a good place to end. But I seriously promise that next chapter will be longer. I am probably going to add a nice long POV from Ron, after he left. As of now, I'm at 1300 words and I'm only about 1/3 the way done!
And, you know that one thing that all writers LOVE to have readers do? Yea, you know what I talkin about! You don't even have to say anything nice! Criticize me, tell me what I did wrong so you will never see the same mistake from me again! *nervously waits for approval of chapter*

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"Stupid Boy Who Lived! I'll show him, no one makes fun of me like that!" Stomping off into the snow-covered distance, Ron Weasley continued to mumble rude comments about Harry Potter. "He should be renamed as, um, Bloody Potter! No, that sounds too much like a drink. Hmm… oh well, the name isn't important anyways!"

He sat down groggily on a large rock and rubbed at his eyes. "That snowball really stung! I'm bored, what's there to do in the snow? Uh… what was it that Harry told me to do?" he asked himself. "Oh yeah, make snowmen! Yeah, I'll do that!"

All of a sudden, he became extremely defensive and his eyes darted suspiciously around the grounds as she shouted, at the top of his lungs, "NOT THAT I TAKE ORDERS FROM HARRY POTTER!"

"Yeah, yeah, of course you don't." a voice to his left boomed. Seriously freaked out, Ron whirled around looking for the source of the deep voice, but to his dismay, he saw no one.

"There's nothing wrong with taking a suggestion!" responded a much lighter voice.

"Stop scaring me!" a frustrated and frightened Ron yelled. "Where are you people?"

"Well," the deeper voice said, "I'm right here!"

Whoever and wherever the voices were, they were talking right into his left ear. Ron cranked his neck around, screamed and jumped back in fright, thus falling over. On his left shoulder was a miniature Ron, but this Ron had flames erupting from his fingers, feet and ears. Instead of hair, he had flames bursting from the top of his head, and when he talked, steam poured from his mouth. Resting in his hand was a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky.

"And I'm over here!" the kind-sounding voice whispered. Startled once again by a sound so close to his ear, Ron flopped like a grindylow out of water and looked over his right shoulder. What he saw was a right sight nicer looking than what he’d seen on his left side. Perched like a faithful bird, the second miniature Ron was dressed in all white, a small golden ring encircling the top part of his head. On his back was a pair of golden wings, tucked gracefully between his shoulder blades. The red hair beneath his halo was flowing gently in a non-existent wind.

"Wh-what are you things? Miniature mes come to take over my gorgeous and masculine shoulders?"

"Yeah, what'd you expect; we're here to have a party?!" Flaming Ron managed between gulps of his whisky as he began to pull and tug at the shoulder on which he resided.

"Well, you can't have my shoulders!" He began to swat at the mini-Rons, hoping they would go away, but his hand just sliced right through them. "If you take them away, what will I use to impress the beautiful Hermione Granger?" Ron let out a deep sigh. "Hermione: The swan amongst my geese, the dove amongst my pigeons, the diamond amongst my rocks, the--"

"All right, all right!" Flaming Ron interrupted. "We get it, just stop with the gushy mushy stuff, okay? It's making me sick!" He doubled over and began to retch, though nothing came out of his mouth except some smoke.

"No," his right shoulder said, sighing with passion, "Please go on! It's so very sweet. By the way, we were never here to steal your shoulders, Mister Grumpy Ron over there was just pulling your chain."

Slightly relieved, Ron asked, "Then why are you here?"

"I told you, to steal your shoulders! Gosh, how thick do you get? Or is your memory just that poor?"

"What he means," Angel Ron explained, "is that we are here to give you guidance. Let me explain. When a person is torn between two ideas, we appear! Normally, the person has to be somewhat insane to see miniature selves on their shoulders, but hey, that's their problem. Actually, we're not really even here, just in your imagination."

"I don't get it."

Flaming Ron rolled his eyes and smacked his palm against his forehead, "What's not to get? We're your imagination, working with you through your problems using our views!"

"Oh!" Ron realized. "Why didn't you just say so? You don't have to make it so complicated, Little White Me!"

"Right," Little White Ron said. "Next time I'll break it down so even you can comprehend what I'm saying."

"Huh?"

"I give up, there's just no point. Any word with more than two syllables just slips rights though your ears."

"What's he talking about?" Ron whispered to his left-shoulder buddy.

"Just ignore him," he whispered back. Raising his voice, he shouted over to his good twin, "Hey! Isn't it supposed to be my job to pull the insults? You aren't going bad on us now, are you?"

"Not a chance! I'm simply stating the obvious," Angel Ron defended.

"Big words scare me," Ron said plainly.

"Can we please get down to business? We have a serious matter to discuss, and--" Whitey was cut short by Red Ron.

"To make snowmen or not to make snowmen, that is the question!"

"Do you know the answer, Ron?" Halo-boy asked.

"Erm.." Ron contemplated, "42?"

Fire Ron's head spontaneously combusted into a huge fireball. "NO, YOU HALF-WIT! THE ANSWER IS NOT 42! AND, HALO MAN, IF HE KNEW THE ANSWER, WE WOULDN'T BE HERE! Must I do all the thinking around here? You guys make that tree seem like a genius!� He pointed gruffly to a tree not far off.

The tree crossed its branches indignantly. “I resent that!� it protested.

"Moving on," White Ron started, "Ron, there is absolutely nothing wrong with accepting a small suggestion from a friend—"

"He's not my friend anymore!"

“--even if he is no longer your friend. If you want to make the snowmen, you should! Neglecting your heart’s desire will only lead to anger, which leads to hate, which leads to suffering."

"But, come on! The guy is your enemy now! You hate him, and using his order will only show that you're weak. We need to use his idea against him somehow--"

"But anger is the path to the dark side-"

"--which is exactly where you want to be! Having fun, not being stalked by a floating golden hoop!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's a halo! Not a floating golden hoop!"

"How about we let Ron decide which way to go?"

"Oui, c'est une bonne idée!" Good Ron said with a terrible French accent.

"Oh Roooon! I bet Hermione likes guys that have a darker side to them." Dark Ron said with a not-so concealed wink. Whitey just glared.

"That's it. I choose Fire Me's side. Plus, your words are too hard to understand." It seemed Ron had made up his mind, following the dark side. As soon as he finished the sentence, the angelic Ron promptly disappeared, and the demonic Ron let out a deep sigh.

"Right, now that that idiot is off our backs—your’s literally-- let's get to that revenge! Here's my plan: we make some snowmen, but we make them look really evil. Yeah! We'll dress some of them up as Lord Voldy, and maybe Snape! Then Harry will see them and scream like a little girl for all his classmates to hear! MUAHAHAHAHAH!"

"YEAH!" Ron punched the air and jumped up, only to land on his rear end. "Ouch," he said, rubbing his backside.

"Get UP!" Fire Ron yelled, "and GET TO WORK!"

"Yes sir, boss!" Ron jumped into a salute and stood there until--

"GO!"

Ron stumbled off a little ways, and following his 'master’s' orders, began to pack snow together, forming large, tight balls. He worked hard and diligently, and after about half an hour, he had roughly a dozen murderous looking snowmen. He looked them over with a thin smile, and, after adding a few finishing touches like Death Eater masks, or larger-than-normal noses, his masterpiece was complete.

Evil Ron paced back and forth from shoulder to shoulder, pondering something that Ron couldn't figure out.

"What's wrong fire-me?" he asked. "I did what you wanted. The snowmen are built! Now they just need to go scare Harry. Wait, how do we do that part again?" Ron pulled a face of confusion, staring at his partner-in-crime.

"Magic!" the little one shouted, "We need magic! Now Ron, give me your wand." Still unsure of what was going on, Ron handed over his wand and watched as the other Ron whipped it around and did a bit of Hocus-Pocus.

In a matter of seconds, the snowmen he had made were rising from their lifeless slumber, and slid over toward their two masters.

Without speaking in actual words, they managed a rough form of communication with the two Rons, mostly just by making violent slushy noises. Somehow, they were understood, and Ron and his miniature he-devil were able to communicate back. Their message was quickly conveyed: scare Harry.

*****Back to Harry and the gang*****

"Come on, you guys! FASTER!" Dean looked back while yelling, and saw that Seamus was still standing there, dumbstruck. "Seamus! What the bloody hell are you doing? They're going to catch you!" Still unresponsive, Seamus didn't appear to be aware that everyone else had run for his or her lives. Dean was about to run back for him, but Lavender grabbed his hand and pulled him forward.

"Dean, come on!" she said, throwing all of her strength into dragging him away.

"But what about Seamus? He's still back there!" Dean looked scared for his best friend’s life.

"If he wants to be stupid and stay, there's no need for you to risk your life, too! Now come on!" With one final last tug, she managed to weaken him.

"I swear, if ONE THING happens to him, it will be on your head!" Dean shouted to Lavender.

"Yeah, whatever, just keep running!"

After a couple of minutes running, the Gryffindors reached Hagrid’s hut, but as they pounded on the door, they realized that Hagrid wasn't home. They had no safe place to go, and the best they could do was hide behind it.

Five minutes later, Seamus still had not shown up. It seemed that their run from the snowmen had turned into a war, which had already claimed its first victim.

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A/N

Ohhh! What will happen to Seamus... and what's up with Ron? Hehehe, I'll reveil that in the near future! Anyways, I owe some credit to HitchHikers Guide to the Galaxy for using their number 42, and to Star Wars for a couple famous lines. Also, this would never have worked out if it wern't for my wonderful two betas: whomovedmyquil and Schmerg_The_Impaler! (Both of whome are extremly talented writers)! So go check out their work!