Shacklebolt hated staying inside the castle. It was so murky, dark and full of evil little students who always seemed to be scheming new plots to annoy him. Not that Hogsmeade wasn't, but Hogsmeade was home to his favirote place.
No, not the Hogs head. Though he liked the hogs head, nice firewhisky.
The Shrieking Shack.
Who didn't like spooky mansions which weren't actually that spooky at all after all? Well, Shacklebolt hadn't actually ever been there, but he liked seeing the Shrieking shack from that little hill at Hogsmeade.
As he walked, Shacklebolt eyes the snow with annoyance, as if every bit of snow that fell had done him personal insult. He hated snow, hated the cold. Muttering to himself grimly, he made his way over to the Shrieking Shack. One good thing about this place, was that it was empty. Nice place to think without the disturbance of children and adoscelents talking to each other annoyingly.
Unfortunately, today someone had been brave enough to come to this area near the Shrieking Shack. Shacklebolt frowned, and took out his wand, planning to stun this newcomer who dared invade his place.