Seasons
by valacirca

Part One: Winter

I used to hate winter.

When I was young, my father never allowed me to play in the snow. We never made snowmen or snow angels or even go skiing in the Alps. Winter was the time when my father taught me much about the Dark Arts. It was during winter that some of the most powerful magic could be tapped and used by wizards of low ability like me.

I was young then. Things have changed. When I became strong enough to tap that powerful magic without waiting for winter to come, my father gave me something wonderful. I have treasured it since then. But it was winter too when he gave me that knowledge.

He taught me how to call the winter fairies.

I remember that time when I saw my father finally smiling, relaxed and truly happy. He watched how the winter fairies came fussing over me, dragging me in their wild, wild dance. They are small, just about the size of my hand and they emit not light, but sparkles. Borrowing the silver beams of the moon, it would seem from one watching far away that the stars have come down from the heavens for me.

It was then that I believed in magic. Magic that was not created by anyone. It was the innate magic of our world.

I was near the Forbidden Forest when he found me. Over a year has passed since we graduated from this school of magic. I've been visiting Snape since then, checking on how my friend and fellow Death Eater was faring. Maybe it was just a coincidence that he was visiting old Dumbledore and Hagrid that winter too.

"Hey Malfoy," he sauntered over, smiling. "You didn't tell me you're coming here. I passed by Professor Snape and he told me you were out here."

"Hello to you too, Potter." I replied, not bothering answer the implied question.

If someone told me a year ago that I'd be talking to Harry Potter sans the insults, I would have thought them mad. As it is now, we are more than 'on speaking terms.' Against nearly insurmountable odds, we have become friends.

It started when we were in our fifth year in Hogwarts. I and a few other Slytherins were out to get Potter, with a little…urging from our Death Eater parents. At the end of our fourth year, we were recruited to join the ranks of the Death Eaters.

At that time we wanted to do something to serve our new master and show our loyalty. We wanted to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord and almost succeeded had not the teachers found out. We were never severely punished, but our actions directed us to a punishment that made us reflect on our lives.

I don't know how the others fared then, but I learned that Dark Magic need not be evil, and power does not always lend itself to evil. That was when I realized I joined the ranks for the wrong reasons.

My father was the one who presented the idea to Voldemort to attack Potter using us. So naturally, it was my father who received the punishment for our failure. But the evil of Voldemort's intent runs deep. He chose to inflict punishment to where it would hurt my father most. He chose to pass the punishment to me.

I dare not recall how painful it was. I could not even remember most of it.

All I remember now is that it was Potter and Snape who saved me. I don't know how they did it. And I don't intend to find out more than I need to know if it means that I have to relive the memory of the pain.

I did know that I was to die a slow and painful death, and my father was devastated. He knew he could not go against the Dark Lord's wishes. It was the basis of strength in our order. We follow the chain of command, if one from the top falls down, others must take over lest the whole system falls.

My father was at the very top at the time. The higher you go, the more severe the penalty. And he knew that it was his due punishment, hard as it was for him to accept that, and I understand. But it was Snape who finally broke away from the ranks. And when he got me back to Hogwarts, it was then that I learned that he was the spy that we were after.

I didn't hand him to the Death Eaters, or to Voldemort. A life for a life.

As for Potter, yes he did rescue me as well, but I never wanted to owe a debt of gratitude to anyone. A life for a life.

When the final battle came, it was I who saved Potter from my fellow Death Eaters. Hiding him, countering curses unknown to those who do not practice the Dark Arts. But it was I who led him to Voldemort. After all, I still am a loyal Death Eater.

I thought the final battle has to be fought by them alone. But it never happened that way. The Order of the Phoenix had come to his aid and they were able to defeat Voldemort. With the fall of our Lord, the other Death Eaters disappeared while others fight to the death.

Only I remained. But I was never sent to Azkaban, I was still very young.

Instead, they opted for 'reform.'

With the coming of the war, school bcame on hiatus. When they resumed a year later, we were able to take our seventh year. It was at that time that he and I became friends. It was then that Potter became Harry, and I became Draco.

"Draa~co!" he was waving his hand in front of my face. "Geez, I guess all this snow really did freeze your brains, huh?"

"Shut up, Potter." I replied without any head, turning my head the other way to gaze at the forest.

"Anyway, what are you doing out here without your winter cloak?" he snorted and walked a little closer. I heard the shuffle of cloth and felt a warm cloak drape across my back. I turned to look at him, he was wearing another set underneath.

"Thanks," I mumbled under my breath.

He sighed. He knew I was in one of my 'moods' again. He never really got around to finding out how to break my so-called 'melancholy moods.' How could he when I never felt the least bit sad? I was merely reflecting on things…most of the time, anyway.

"Harry," I began. "Have you ever wanted to learn the Dark Arts?"

He looked at me as if I had just suggested that he jump down a cliff without his broom. But he answered seriously anyway.

"No Draco, I never want to learn it."

I don't have to ask why. I already knew.

"They were all sorry you know, those who're still alive anyway," I said softly. I heard a hitch in his throat and continued. "Yeah, I've been keeping contact with them. And I don't plan on telling on them so don't you try going to Dumbledore and force me to tell where they are with Veritaserum."

"Wh- Why?"

I expected this, his reaction. But what I didn't expect was that I'd be telling him this in the first place. So I told him the best thing I could. The truth.

"Did you know that in the archaic days, there are also Death Eaters?"

I found out this small piece of information in my father's vast library. I proceeded to tell him what I found out.

The original Death Eaters were an elite group of individuals, powerful individuals able to cast Dark magic. In those days, the Dark magic that they were able to wield was more powerful than the ones that were not forgotten and still used today.

But their secret society was bound by order, a system that they didn't question. A system they dare not defy. And in there lies their trust, strength and secrecy. Utter secrecy is needed, because they were the most powerful wizards of their time, more powerful than anyone could ever conceive.

"But they were not evil. They were merely powerful," I said. "It was Voldemort who used the name Death Eaters and made them evil. The reason why today's Death Eaters mostly came from old wizarding families is that they were descendants of the original Death Eater Society. That was where their loyalty came from. We were never bound to Voldemort to begin with, except for the Dark Mark."

"Draco, why are you telling me this?" He seemed so unsure, almost as if he fears me.

"Because I wanted to show you this," I whispered.

I cupped my hand and caught a slowly falling snow. Bringing it close, I whispered to it the very same summons my father taught me over a decade ago. It was time someone allowed them dance again.

Slowly I watched as astonishment cross Harry's face as one by one, the snowflakes started to sparkle, grow and sprout wings. In a few seconds, the softly falling snow became alive. Dozens upon dozens of winter fairies came alive, waking up from their long slumber, stretching their arms and wings.

Harry ran behind me grabbing my shoulders, as if trying to hide from the things I summoned.

"Draco, what are these?" he hissed in my ear.

"Fairies." I replied simply.

"I can see that," he said rolling his eyes. "What I meant was that how did you get them to come here?"

"Dark Magic," I replied, "of the purest kind"

He stared. Then he leaned in closer, as if trying to view the fairies better. He was so close; I could even smell his hair. Apple shampoo.

We both watched fascinated as the fairies started their dance. Wild and free, they flew all around us, and some went even over the Forbidden Forest, like a disappearing star. The dance shifted and before we knew it, they were moving away from us. We watched from a distance as the dance ended and what ensued next was nothing I have ever seen them done before.

They started a snowball fight with each other.

In a matter of minutes, Harry and I were both laughing.

"Cute aren't they?" I asked.

"No," he said as his laughter died. "The're beautiful."

I nodded. I thought so too.

He never did let go of my shoulders. Instead, he leaned in and rested his chin on my shoulder and we continued to watch the dancing lights. An added warmth.

"But you told me they came from Dark Magic," Harry murmured in my ear, still obviously fascinated with the fairies.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, that the Dark Arts are not evil."

"Then why call it Dark Arts?"

"Because no one knows when and by whom these spells were created. They're just…really old, that's why."

"But how come most of them are for evil purposes?"

"Because in the archaic days, the wizarding world was still in chaos. Wild magic abound, innate magic from the earth, and there was a need to control them. Really Harry, haven't you been reading Hogwarts, A History?" I said mimicking Hermione's voice and he poked me at the sides.

"Shut up," he said chuckling. "But that doesn't explain why these fairies are a form of Dark Magic."

"They're not," I said. "These are the innate magic from the earth that took form. All summoning spells were originally a form of the Dark Arts. But this form of summon, to be able to summon a form of innate magic, that's one of the purer forms of the Dark Arts."

He became silent for a while. Finally he said, "I don't know if I understand it, all I know is that it's beautiful."

"Then don't, not right now anyway."

We grew silent again for a while, enjoying the companionship.

"Harry," I said after a while, breaking the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure."

I take a deep breath.

"Do you ever feel that there's something missing in your life? Like something about your family that you wanted to know, or something about yourself that you wanted to find out? Or something you wanted to fill, to make up for something you've lost?"

He nods.

"Find it. Promise me you'll find it."

He looked unsure. He didn't understand. But I can live with that. That's why I'm telling him, I wanted him to find out on his own.

"Just promise me you'll try to find happiness, ok?"

He nods again.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

And that was enough for me. Being the former Gryffindor that he is, I knew that he'll try to keep that promise no matter what. Even if he didn't understand what I asked from him.

Setting him free had been the hardest thing I've ever done, even if he didn't know that I was doing it at that very moment. He takes these things lightly. But this isn't for me to decide. No. It's for him to understand what I wanted him to know. Only then will I truly gain what I wanted most.

Him.

I smiled, and we walked back to the castle leaving the winter fairies to their dance.

I knew I had to let him go.

But did he know?

Did he realize that I was trying to say goodbye?

I hope so.

For my sake.