As Winter calls

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, or any of the characters in the Harry Potter books. They belong to J. K. Rowling and Bloomsbury Books.

In the deep cold of night
Winter calls, he cries, don't deny me...

The deep blue potion sparkled in the light that refracted through the glass vial it was held it, glittering like a rare jewel.

A pale hand turned the vial this way and that, admiring the colour as if it were a fine wine he was about to sample.

"This is ridiculous." A caustic voice remarked from across the room. The owner of the pale hand holding the delicate vial set it down on the low table before him and turned to address the speaker.

"Not so, Severus," He replied in a cool, aristocratic voice, "It is the perfect plan. Know thine enemy."

Severus Snape, sat bolt upright in a plush chair that was really meant for lounging, fixed his obsidian eyes on his comrade.

"He isn't really our enemy, Lucius." He replied dryly. Lucius returned Snape's look coolly,

"He could be. He could be a greater danger to us than the Dark Lord and Dumbledore combined. This is the matter that concerns me."

Snape snorted disdainfully, "So, you have me spend almost two years working on this potion, distilling the clotted blood I managed to rescue from the floor of that disgusting Chamber, all because you were...concerned." Lucius could here the sarcasm dripping from that last word.

"Yes." Lucius said flatly, "Now stop trying to be clever, Severus, and get on with it."

Severus sighed as if it were some great chore and stood up, setting a small mirror on the table, he tapped it with his wand and muttered the Engorgement charm, making the mirror now roughly a foot in diameter. He carefully took up the vial and poured its contents over the surface of the mirror and murmured another spell, tapping the mirror frame lightly.

The mirror surface swirled and rippled like an angry sea for a moment, before the image within the glass resolved into the inside of a house. A house containing a young boy with messy black hair, who was quietly shuffling around a kitchen.

Lucius and Severus exchanged a look, surprised that the somewhat unlikely plan had actually succeeded.

In the still light of dawn, he cries,
Helpless hands soul revealing..

Harry Potter tried to move as silently as possible, catching the slider on the toaster before it could pop up and make a noise and potentially wake up his relatives...which he knew would mean he got no breakfast, and probably no lunch, either.

He smothered to toast in marmalade, then returned the jar to its cupboard, making sure it didn't shut too loudly. He turned and looked out across the well-kept garden, admiring how the pale dawn light spilled across the immaculate lawn. He liked this time of day, no noise, no bullying cousins, shrill aunts or arrogant uncles.

Then, he froze as he heard the distinct sounds of upstairs floorboards groaning under a considerable weight.

Harry cursed himself. He should have crept back to his room the way he usually did instead of pausing to admire the dawn.

But there was no help for it now as his fat oaf of a cousin waddled into the kitchen, no doubt searching for something to stuff his face with.

Beady eyes fixed on Harry, and on the toast he was eating, an expression of confusion on his bloated features.

"You shouldn't be down here." Dudley said, and then the confusion lifted as his piggish face twisted into an unpleasant grin, "I'll tell Dad."

"Good." Harry said through gritted teeth, "You do that." He began to make his way around his cousin's bulk, aiming for the door, but before he got there, Dudley's fat fingers reached out and snatched the toast from Harry's hand.

"Give that BACK!" He snapped, charging forward...but he didn't get too far. Dudley's other arm shot out with all the force of his boxing training behind it and Harry found himself flying straight across the kitchen and into the conservatory.

Only the conservatory doors were not open.

Glittering glass shards fell in front of Harry's eyes, shining like snowflakes before Harry lost consciousness.

Like leaves we touch, we learn
We once knew the story

"Finate incantatem!" Severus snapped, and the mirror returned to its natural state. The Potions Master had his fingers wrapped so tightly around his wand that his knuckles were turning white. "I've seen enough." He grated.

Lucius shook his head, "No." He said, "The fact that his cousin is an overweight, uncouth bully means nothing. We must know more."

Lucius fixed his own silver/grey eyes on Snape's black ones, and raised an eyebrow, "You seem...somewhat more upset by this, that I would have expected, Severus." 'considering who it is we're dealing with', he added silently.

Snape shoved his wand violently back into his robes and glared at Lucius.

"I dislike being lied to," He said shortly, "Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that, he walked out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Lucius considered that cryptic remark as he unstopped a decanter of fine brandy and poured himself a generous measure. He wondered who it was who had lied to Severus...and what other surprises they would find lurking in the house of Potter's relatives.