Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

Written for the Quidditch League – Season 5 Fanfiction Competition – Round 11

Round 11 - Seasons Greetings

The seasons are changing all over the world, so we thought it appropriate that we dedicate a round to it. As the seasons change, so does what we wear, what we do, where we go… and, especially when it comes to writing, we associate certain times of the year and times of the day with certain emotions and situations. In this round, you will be doing the same. Each position has been given two prompts, out of which you can choose to write one (or both; that's up to you, but make sure you fulfil the prompt requirements adequately). Although the themes are specific, beyond that, everything is left to you, so be as creative as you want! I'm fully anticipating to read a whole bunch of angsty stories.

Beater 2: Write about growing old on a winter day(s) OR youthfulness on a spring night(s).

Picked: growing old on a winter day(s)

Prompts: 5 (word) asleep, 12 (colour) yellow

Captain of the Wimbourne Wasps writing as reserve for Beater 2 of the Wasps

Word Count: 994

Death By Any Other Name

Harry smiled when he saw who was walking up his driveway.

"Was about time you came," he grumbled, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Ah, I've been a little busy." The man took a seat beside him, not making a crinkle on his dark, three-piece suit.

"I can imagine."

They shared a smile, before going back to the comfortable silence Harry had been enjoying.

"Isn't it a little cold to be outside?" The man looked at the snow-covered grounds around the homely cottage.

Harry snorted. "It's called magic. You remember what that is, don't you?." Harry turned to look at the man wide-eyed. "Don't tell me old age is finally getting to you, Ajal!"

Ajal let out a long-suffering sigh. "Why do you persist on calling me that?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "It's your name…"

Ajal sighed once more, and Harry had to stop the smug smirk from taking over his expression. The occasions where he could needle the other man were rare, so he always took special pride when he could get under the man's skin.

"Alone today?" Ajal asked.

Harry nodded. "Al was here earlier. Had to almost push him out of the house."

"He's my favorite," Ajal said, and Harry snorted.

"He would be." Harry leaned back on his chair, upping the heating charm around them. It was a horrible winter. He didn't remember experiencing one so cold ever, and he had lived for a long while now. Then again, James would just tell him that his memory must be going due to age. "I gave him the Cloak."

Ajal hummed. "I had noticed. Don't you think it was a little too soon?"

Harry laughed, the sound trickling up his throat and making it burn like sandpaper. He doubled over, wheezing and coughing until a large, warm hand ran down his back. Harry felt immediately lighter. He sunk back into his chair, breath labored and tears in the corners of his eyes.

"You shouldn't do that," Harry murmured, voice scratchy. "But you see? It's not too soon. I'm old, Ajal. More than that, I'm tired."

Ajal's hand continued running up and down Harry's back, and with every stroke, Harry felt lighter.

"Stop it," Harry whispered. Still, he couldn't bring himself to pull away.

"You're not old."

Harry opened his eyes and found clear gray, almost white, eyes looking back at him. Even after all these years, he wasn't used to the intense gaze.

He looked away, pulling the bright yellow fleece tighter around him. It was a gift from his first great-grandson. Little Jason had been so proud when he had presented the bright yellow, fluffy, monstrosity to Harry for Christmas. Proclaiming for all to hear that he had made it himself. It was horribly knitted with every other loop different sizes, and Harry loved it. Well, Jason wasn't so little anymore, was he? He was… fifteen? Harry shook his head. Sixteen. Jason was already sixteen. And Ajal said he wasn't old…

"Compared to you, no one is old."

Ajal hummed, continuing his stroking, and Harry felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

"Stop it," Harry repeated, with just as little conviction as the previous times. "You won't make me change my mind."

"I'm not trying to," Ajal refuted. "You're old. You're tired. I understand." Ajal reached forward with his other hand, cupping Harry's weathered cheek. "I just want to make this easier for you. You can't blame me for that."

"I can," Harry grumbled.

"You shouldn't." Ajal smiled. "I'm old. I'm tired. You should indulge me."

Harry huffed and looked away. He could never win an argument against the older man. Besides, there was no point in winning this argument. Harry had always let Ajal do whatever he wanted, this would be no different.

Still, it was pointless. Harry just wanted to fall asleep. There was no need for Ajal to continue delaying the inevitable.

"I have indulged you," Harry replied, keeping his gaze on the snowy hills. At least he had picked a beautiful day. He had always loved winter. Some of his best memories were during the winter season. So many warm Christmases and winter breaks filled with love and laughter. "I have indulged you for almost two hundred years." Harry looked back, lowering his head slightly and placing a kiss on the palm of Ajal's hand. "Don't you think that's long enough?"

Ajal pulled away.

Harry sighed. It was hardly the first time they had this conversation. The only difference was that this time, Harry wouldn't be swayed. He had endured for almost two centuries. Even by wizards' standards that was a long time. He wanted peace.

"You'll have Al."

Ajal scoffed, and Harry wanted to feel insulted for his son, but he had known Ajal for decades and knew that it would amount to nothing. Ajal was rather indifferent to most of humanity, disliking very few and liking only one.

"He will never possess the other two," Ajal said, looking off into the side. His eyes distant, not noticing the enchanting landscape around them. "They were made for you. I'll recall them to me after this."

"Even the Cloak?"

Harry didn't like that thought. He had left the Wand and Stone fall into obscurity and was only too happy if they disappeared from human's grasp for good. The Cloak, though, was a different matter.

"The Cloak will continue to shield your descendants, but only those worthy."

Harry smiled. "Thank you."

Ajal looked away, and Harry chuckled.

"It's almost sunset."

"I know." Ajal sighed.

Ajal got up, towering over him. Ajal reached forward, cupping his cheek and Harry felt seventeen again, young and full of life and ready to face the future. He looked up at Ajal with a fond smile. The man truly did always get what he wanted.

Harry closed his eyes when he felt soft lips against his forehead. His smile softened.

"Goodbye, Ajal."

"Goodbye, my Master."

A.N.: Meaning of name Ajal - specified term or period, hour of death; death; fate, destiny