Chapter 1

A/N This is adopted from DrogoCygnusthefifth but he has given me rights to the plot line. This first chapter is going to be setting the tone for the rest of the story so I will be rewriting what Drogo already put in.

None of the characters or settings belong to me, J.K. Rowling gets full rights on everything recognizable.

Harry had woken up the same way he had every morning of the ten years he had been living with his Aunt and Uncle Dursley. Aunt Petunia had rapped sharply on the door of his cupboard. Nothing was different for the hours after that either. Harry had made breakfast for his family and had sat quietly before his empty space of table to wait for the mail and the dishes, the mail was the real changing factor. With the pile of mail in his hand Harry made his way back to the kitchen, but no matter how curious Harry got he knew better than to look through the mail. The only time he had done so his Uncle had slapped him and sent him to his cupboard for the following week.

Harry handed the pile of mail to his Uncle then settled back into his seat to wait out the meal only for his Uncle grab him by the collar and drag him to his cupboard. "Stay in there Boy! And Dudely go to your room!" The frail little thing currently nursing the steadily growing bump on his scalp was confused and scared. The boy's Uncle usually told him just why he was going into the cupboard when he screwed up, the next few minutes Harry reviewed making and serving the meal. He couldn't think of anything wrong, he hadn't burnt anything or left a mess. Harry resolved himself to do better next time and let the darkness of the cupboard hug him and brush away his tears. The small shaft of moonlight peeking through the grate at the door of his cupboard seemed to smile and wink welcomingly.

The peace in his cupboard didn't last very long as Uncle Vernon flung open the door. "We're going on a trip boy! Wear warm clothes." Vernon looked almost sorry and gave his nephew the first genuinely useful gift in his life. A warm jacket and a pair of warm boots. Both of the gifts were hand-me-downs but the neglected boy in the cupboard didn't care.

All four of the residents of Privet Drive piled into the car and Vernon pealed out of the driveway. No one noticed the flash of light as the blood wards around Number Four fell and the alarms in Dumbledore's Office went off in a flurry of light and sound. Harry would not consider Number Four his home anymore.

After a long drive through the woods the car slowed to a stop at the side of the street and the adults got out and slammed the doors. The pair looked apprehensive and Petunia looked sad, but they retrieved the smaller of the two boys asleep in the backseat and laid him down on the snowy grass. The child would quickly die of hypothermia but the cruel couple did not wish their nephew a painful death but the boy would have to go before any of them could be happy.

The tiny body resting in the building snow was already weak from malnutrition and though no one knew it his magic was already overtaxed in its efforts to keep him alive. The inner well of power strained to protect its host from the frostbite setting in but rather than repel the icy cold the magic enveloped the cold and mixed it with the core already there. The magic within Harry could absorb small amounts of cold but the hypothermia setting in changed the growing core, and it shaped the raw magic into what it needed. This wouldn't have been enough for Harry to survive but The Man in the Moon had been watching the boy and he saw the raw, sweet magic being corrupted by the angry cold he stepped in and bound the untamed magic to a purpose.

The child woke a month later and when he got up the Winter Magic had turned his pale skin to the silver glow of moonlight but his hair had darkened to the colour of the sky at midnight. The oversize hoody he wore had frosted over and had grown heavy, and under the weight of his clothes he was having a hard time getting up from the snow. An innocuous stick sat in the nearby snow and when the boy grabbed the worn wood frost spread along the staff.

Jack Frost woke knowing little other than the purpose he had been given by the Man in the Moon. Jack was meant to spread Winter through the lands, but when he asked the Man about his past the voice inside his head refused to answer leaving the vague impression that this was something he wouldn't want to know.

An ocean away the 13 year old Krum heir woke from his nightmare with icy skin and a heavy heart. Who was that boy and why was he talking to the moon? Viktor was almost desperate to find the man but when he sought details concerning the identity of the mystery boy he came up blank. He looked out at the moon and shrugged, focusing on the moon hanging in the inky sky he asked who the boy was. The moon responded with the thought that he couldn't know yet. The boy would find him when the time was right.