As white as Snow: Year one
AN: A character that I role-play and I rather connect with, and I just crossed him with the HP universe. He's not a Sue, nor a self insert, his character is vastly different from my own. T for now, later years will go up. Note, up until around year three or four Harry will be mute. Also... eventually will be H/HR. Another note: AU!!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and any related characters. I own Snow, but the world of Sommerland, Aryn, The gods Cubus and Auta belong to Donna and Emma Quinn founders of the original Sommerland, until they closed it. Sommerland has been re-incarnated as the second coming, which I don't own either.
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Chapter one: A pair of orphans.
Location unknown:
"RUN! FOR AUTA'S SAKE RUN!!" The bellow of the soldiers are confusing, harsh, shaking his already sore head. Swearing under his breath the figure struggles on, winding through wounded, dead and dying people, trying to make for safety. At least that's what he's trying to do in theory, if people watched were they were treading. A flickering portal in the distance could be seen and he hastened towards it, his wounded side burning, warning him he was wounded. It wasn't bleeding, the stray spell that had hit him had cauterized the wound. So he wouldn't die from blood loss. Of course he could still be trampled in this bloody crowd. Pushing his way now, getting faster, shoving women and children aside, he wanted to save his own skin now, he had no family, nor friends, nor loved ones. He had been betrayed long ago, and now as he had taken his revenge, he had no-one. It was his skin he wanted to save, not anyone else's.
Yes he was cold, cynical and rather bitter, but the events of his life, or fate maybe had shaped his life into who and what he was. And perhaps it was his fate to die here, like the world that was in it's death throes.
No. He would not be fatalistic. He was a survivor, from his very birth, till now and he would survive. Gritting his teeth, he pushed harder, the crowd beginning to thin. Then they came.
Fanatics going by the name: The sons of Cubus. A mad, vengeful god, shattered into pieces by the goddess Auta at the forming of the universe and those pieces of a shattered god had lodged itself into the very planets that the goddess had formed and could only regain his shape by shattering the planets, gathering a shard of himself once more to him. So an eternal cycle began. Planets fell, the very essence of the god taking hold of certain people, spreading, until the planet imploded, by the very followers themselves. A planet had been shattered before this one and the refugees had come here, and now they fled again.
An explosion tore into the crowd and bodies went flying, a mage letting fly with his spells. Smoke tore into his eyes, swearing under his breath he broke into a sprint, knocking people bodily to the floor now. Mass panic, people panicking, and with his small stature he could easily be trampled. He darted from the crowd, coming into the final hurdle now. Too late. The fanatics were already at the gate, one of their mages chanting to close the portal. He acted. Leaping into the air, he moved jumping from rooftop to rooftop. He paused, near his target, the mage, looked once to make sure of his aim and jumped.
A blur of black and the mage crumpled to the floor, his spell gurgling in his throat as it bubbled blood. An elf, painted black, his eyes blood shot with the ceremonial drugs, snarled as his companion, a man dressed in the same attire, tunics and a black cloak, emblazoned with the image of cubus, a thousand knives. He too was wide-eyed, his blood shot eyes scanning the area. Their mage breathed his last, his broken throat gleaming in the dying sun. "You have ten seconds to leave before I tear your throats out" A hard voice said.
Both spun to look and kill the speaker. It was a little dragon, tar black in colour, with great big amber, almond shaped eyes. The elf raised his sabre a bestial snarl coming from his throat as he lunged at the little dragon. It moved blurring to one side, coming from out of nowhere on the elf's flank, taking out his hamstring in one swift move, his claws flashing once. The elf collapsed and as he fell, the little dragon was on him in an instant, his mouth at the elf's throat, ripping it out with savage fury. The elf crumpled, his eyes glassing over as he died. "Cubus..." the elf said, as he breathed his last. The little dragon, his eyes lidded with derision, looked at the human. He bolted, as the little dragon shook blood from his muzzle. Glancing at the corpse, he huffed once, and shook himself, golden rings on his body glowing as he cleaned himself up. His wound was still troubling him, but with the elf's death and the energy it gave him, he could restore some of the wound. Turning he could see the portal, his escape, faltering, flickering, the cubus mage's spell having done it's work and destabilised the portal. Glancing behind him he could see battered, bloody people emerging from the smoke. Dragons, speeders, humans, elves, goblins even a few orks. All of them were converging on his way of escape. It wouldn't hold for long. Turning, the little dragon cursed himself for his noble nature emerging now. "HURRY UP! THE PORTALS FADING!" his words spurred people on, their pace increasing, the speeders breaking into a run, blurring past him into the portal, their passing stirring dust in their wake. Growling, the little dragon focussed on himself, feeling the first tendrils of his own dark gifts escape and latch onto the portals edge, giving it a few more minutes. Tops.
People streamed past him, sweat running down his face as his power leached at his strength. That was the thing, his powers were dark in nature and unforgiving if he overused them. The last person ran past and he stirred, the dark tendrils snapping back, grunting as the backlash hurt him even more. Painstakingly he dragged himself to the faltering portal, his escape denied due to his sudden bout of stupid nobility. Someone scooped him up. Another dragon, like him, white in colour. A light elemental, a she. She dragged him by the scruff of his neck and dumped him in front of the portal. "Here we go stranger... you first." The little dragon looked up opened one amber eye a crack and snorted. Sighing, the female dragon picked him up and tossed him into the portal, her words drifting to him as the portal began to take him. "What's your name noble and slightly stupid stranger?"
Wearily, in a small voice he answered. "My name is Snow" he then passed out, exhaustion and dark magic backlash getting to him as the portal whisked him away to places unknown.
The female dragon looked, almost in disgust at where she'd dumped the black dragon, Snow. She spat furiously. "If I'd known it was you Snow, I'd have left you here to burn." Sighing in resignation, she too leapt into the portal, as it closed, leaving behind a dying world, a splinter of a mad, old god, rejoining it's master.
The cycle would continue. Cubus would not be denied, and would be whole once more.
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Number four, Privet Drive, Surrey:
There was a swirl of light and a rush of colour and a muted thump, a groan issuing from a now ruined pair of bushes. A pair of pointed ears were sticking out from the bush and the little black dragon, Snow, dragged himself out into the open. Footsteps made him freeze. Dimming the glow from the rings on his body (One around each ear, leg and one on the middle of his forehead and tail) so he faded into the darkness of the early morning as two figures brushed by, literally inches from his nose. "Albus!" He heard a definitely female voice speak, laden with authority. "Are you sure? These are the worse kind of muggles. I saw that boy, kick his mother down the street, screaming for ice cream! Is it right for the boy?"
The man sighed, and Snow felt power behind the words, magical and political. However he was this man was important. Wriggling, ignoring the burning pain in his foreleg, flank and head, he got closer to the pair. "It may not be the best, but this will be the safest place for Mr. Potter. Minerva, his mothers blood resides here, her sacrifice Minerva, will give young Harry here the best protection, as long as they love him, he will be safe"
"Are you sure Albus?"
The older man sighed "As long as they love him, he will be safe."
Minerva pursed her lips "Very well Albus...but woe upon you if something happens to him!" The older man said nothing, leaving a small bundle on the front steps of the house. It was nothing like a house Snow had seen apart from grand mansions. But then again things would be different here. He was a long way from home. The pair left, walking out onto the street, the man returning the lamps magic from something in his hand. Then the pair disappeared leaving just a baby and a pair of amber eyes watching in the dark.
Magic. There was still magic in this world. Sighing, Snow got himself to his feet, all four of them and looked at the small bundle. It was a child. A human child. Pink, black hair with eerily green eyes. Green met gold, and Snow swore as he saw a drifting cloud of dark magic hovering above a scar the boy had on his forehead. It was going to go into the boy. Snow had seconds to act. Without thinking about it, he extended a tendril of his own dark magic, just touching the other with his own. It recoiled instantly, and before Snow could even react, had homed on him and slammed home. A screech issued from his throat, the foreign dark magic battling with his own. In his core, his very soul, his own blackened, marred, but still noble soul, the two magic's fought. A minute passed, and then it was over, the little dragons form sunk to the floor, exhausted by the battle of wills. It hurt like hell, but he was feeling, magic wise, better then ever. He felt strong. Looking over at the child, he noticed that although the dark magic had been absorbed by him, a few stray tendrils had touched the child, and were now residing in the scar he bore. In time, they'd be absorbed and dominated by the boys own core. Snow had no doubt he was magical, and would be very powerful at that. The boy would be good, no doubt there either, Snow could smell the purity, but he would have a strong inclination towards the dark arts, even if for his own defence or the defence of others. Snow looked at the boy for two seconds and then began to walk away, re-charged, healing when a scuffle drew his attention. Fading into the darkness, a habit of many years he watched intently as large man, with a bristling array of facial hair, and a bony woman whose long face resembled a particularly sour centaur he once knew. His sensitive ears twitched in their direction, their furious whispers reaching his ears.
"I'm not taking that... thing in!"
"And I agree with you Vernon, my sister died and left the brat, but what do we do?"
There was silence "I say we drown the snivelling little whelp. Less bad stock as Marge would say" Snow's ears twitched a snarl creeping across his normally blank face. They wanted to kill a child? Snow was a killer, he had blood on his paws, and he'd kill again and without hesitation. But a child?
Without thinking, knowing he'd regret it in the morning, Snow expanded his shadow, added a pair of luminous green eyes for show, and made his voice loud but female. "Would you kill my own son, sister dearest?" The pair recoiled, Snow couldn't help grinning, his face in a smirk. He was having fun playing with them. "Well?" 'he' demanded, making the clouds writhe and billow "what will you do?"
The horse-faced woman answered. "We'll take him in Lily... I... It was in haste wasn't it Vernon?" The man nodded and picked up the basket, taking the child in the house his face trembling with fear, turning an interesting shade of white. Snow slipped inside the immaculate, house 'lily', vanishing as he moved. The house was too clean for his tastes. Wrinkling his nose in distaste, he watched as they placed the young child in the cupboard under their stairs. Another demonstration would only scare them and make things worse. Slipping into the cupboard, travelling via the shadows, Snow looked at the young boy, a furrow across his brow. What connected them? He felt a bond of kinship, and loath as he was to admit it, he was lonely.
He made his choice.
"Well little one" He said finally, amber meeting green. "I guess I'm with you now..."
And Snow, although bitter, cynical and rather jaded he had made a vow. And he always kept his vow. Even if it meant being an outcast...
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"It's over Zzask!" Snow roared, the rain flattening his fur, making him look smaller than he already was. In front of him, a dragon similar to him, but bigger, bulkier, and green in colour stood in front of him, shielding a smaller, white dragon, whose round belly indicated an impending birth.
Lightening flashed across the sky, thunder rumbling, the gods were not happy with how fate had played them. Snow stood, his teeth bared in a near fanatical snarl. "It's over Zzask! Step away or I'll kill you too!" his voice was low, calm even. It meant he was near breaking point.
Zzask, the bigger dragon shook his head sadly "I can't let you do that Snow. I can't, won't let you do that... to my child" he said softly, looking sadly at his friend. Water dripped from the pair as Zzask wondered how it had come to this. Was it when he betrayed his friend for his wife? Or had things began to turn before this?
Something within Snow snapped, dark tendrils of magic gathering around him, like a writhing dark halo. "YOU! I MADE AN OATH ZZASK!" He stopped looking at his former best friend. "I made a vow to kill the pair that betrayed me. My wife and her lover. You've broken all the laws Zzask! Including the most sacred!" he screamed, his broken heart, outraged at this latest betrayal poured itself into his magic.
"Would you still keep your promise even though I am one you must kill?" Zzask said softly "Would you kill your best friend?" he asked, the rain disguising his tears.
There was silence as Snow regarded his former best friend. Could he kill him? Amber eyes met brown. "Yes." he said simply.
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Seven years later:
Harry Potter, looked almost normal, apart from the mess of black hair and shocking green eyes. He was however, not normal. This he knew from his constant and only companion, Snow.
Snow had always been present for little Harry and with the little dragon's assistance, had matured far beyond his age. He spoke, several years older than he was, had a reading age far beyond his own, and his intellect was only matched by his wit and cunning. Snow trained him, taught him to vanish, to be invisible even in plain sight. The dragon (For he had told Harry what he was only six months ago) was as close to a brother or an uncle that Harry could get. He knew his parents had died for him, that much Snow had gathered from the two magic users who had dropped him at his aunts and uncles.
Harry hated them, and Snow encouraged that hatred, because even though Harry was pure in intent, Snow wanted him to have a dark streak, an angry side that would help him in time. His relatives were helping him in that matter, although, Snow was worried. Vernon had been laid off from work, something about hitting a female member of staff and was getting increasingly violent.
Harry wasn't worried though, Snow had always been by his side, and as today was the anniversary of when they had met (and his parents death), had vanished to find him something. Snow was forever appearing and reappearing and it delighted the young Harry to no end and Snow had promised him to eventually teach him the trick. For now though, Harry would have to do with walking home. He had a good day at school, perfect marks on a test, and (unintentionally) got Dudley in trouble. The fat boy had tried to pull a Halloween stunt, but Harry had seen him loitering in the car park, mentioned it to a teacher and the teacher had found eggs in all the car exhausts.
If there was one member of his family he loathed the most it was Dudley. Spoilt, fat and stupid, Dudley was the apple of his parents eyes. Harry was the 'freak' or 'it'. He didn't even know his own name until Snow had pilfered the letter that had been left with him and read it to young Harry. Snow had been calling Harry 'Sab' until they found his name out and called him it in moments of affection, which considering Snow's icy nature, were rather rare. Harry shook his head, laughed half to himself and continued walking home, wishing that Snow were walking besides him, with his usual scathing remarks on passers by. Getting home, he walked to the door, holding his hand to knock when the door swung open, and his uncle pulled him inside. His face was purple, not a good sign, as it was warning of a melt down. Harry backed away, fear in his eyes. Snow wasn't here. This might not be good. "You... freak" Vernon hissed "Dudley said you got him in trouble today" Harry glanced around his uncle and saw his cousin grinning like an idiot, trying hard not to laugh. Harry said nothing, just looking blankly at his uncle. "Fine... say nothing." His uncle hissed, turning his back on him as Harry relaxed. Turning, as swiftly as a viper his uncle's beefy hands had wrapped themselves around Harry's slender throat, constricting his airway.
Stars danced before young Harry, blackness eating at the edge of his vision, something dancing along his nerve endings, something singing in his ears... There was a bang and a thump, and his airway was free but hurting. Falling to the floor, he felt hands seize him again, stars dancing again. This time, he heard a more subtle noise and Vernon flew halfway through the house, splintering walls bearing testimony to his rather large passage. Harry hit the floor.
There was a rustle and a whisper of movement and Snow was by Harry's side, his amber eyes wide with worry, tracking Vernon's limp body with his eyes. Dark magic, just a whisper coiled from him, but he pulled it in, calming down. Revenge would come later. Taking the boy by the scruff of his clothes, there was rustle as shadows cloaked the pair and several seconds later, there was no indication they were ever there.
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The local hospital, The heart of mercy.
Finding a barely breathing boy outside A and E, not really normal. Having a voice from nowhere talk to you? Even more disconcerting.
Yet that was what was happening to Juliet Granger.
She had nearly finished her shift, sneaking outside for a quick smoke, when almost in front of her this boy, around seven, maybe eight had just... appeared. Then that voice. A light alto, but so... dark. Help him. Help my little Sabre it said. He can't die...
Juliet Granger made sure that didn't happen. The voice... the sadness in it's voice. She had rushed the boy into the hospital, yelling for nurses and anyone to help. The lack of oxygen to the brain wouldn't be good, and every second counted. He needed oxygen. They got the boy into a bed, under a machine and put him on a respirator. He would be fine, in time but they'd need to check to see if he had any airway or vocal chord damage or brain damage via lack of oxygen.
As Juliet passed by the room, she could swear she heard footsteps behind her. She stopped at her office and picked up the sleeping form of her daughter. Well, not her daughter, her sister's. Hermione Granger, in the Granger tradition had been named after a Shakespeare character, like her and her own sister, Cordelia. Her sister had, to be blunt, married an arsehole. They died in a car chase, he was drunk. The only one to survive was little Hermione without a scratch. She was six months old at the time. Juliet picked her surrogate daughter up, brown eyes meeting brown. "Mummy" Hermione said, her tone cultured, sometimes she scared Juliet with how smart she was.
"Yes sweety?"
"Why is there a cat in the hospital?"
Juliet spun to where she was pointing but the doorway to her office was empty. "There's no one there honey" She said softly.
Hermione sighed, a very adult sound. "Yes there is" she insisted. "He's big, almost like a small dog, black in colour with gold markings on him and big amber eyes. He's looking right at you and laughing" There was a pause, Juliet's mouth hanging like a fish. "He says thank you mummy"
Juliet looked at Hermione "What for?"
"For saving his Sabre"
"Does he say anything else?"
Hermione frowned. "He says thank you again and the one who did this will pay."
That didn't sound good. "Hermione..."
"He's gone Mummy" She said, looking at the spot "He just vanished"
Juliet knew that whatever, or whoever that voice was, the person who hurt that child would be dead by morning.
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Dursley household, number 4 Privet drive.
Snow was pissed off. No, scratch that he was furious. That fat git, Vernon Dursley had harmed his Harry, his Sabre. No. He had crossed the line. Snow had scared him off beating Harry, whippings and things, but not the verbal. That only made Harry stronger.
No. This time Vernon was dead.
Snow stalked along the hallway, the household sleeping. Well the men were sleeping. Petunia was worried sick. She knew something, or someone was in the house, but her idiot of a husband refused to believe her. She had holed up in the kitchen shaking like a leaf. Something had been in the house since she took her sisters brat in. She only saw glimpses. Flashes of black and gold, at the corner of her eyes, never still. And it scared her. Vernon had gone too far and she knew he'd pay. The unknown guest in her house would make sure of that.
Snow paced down the hallway, a tendril of magic creeping from his small form, snapping Dudley's door shut and locking it with an ominous 'click'. The boy never even woke up. He moved on, the door opening to the main bedroom, the sleeping bulk of the walrus. A small piece of dark magic drifted from Snow and in a mockery of a lovers caress, stroked Vernon's head, the man stirring and getting up, still asleep.
Snow's eyes had narrowed to glimmering slits as the man walked past, twitching and muttering in his sleep. Snow walked him to the top of the stairs and then woke him up. "What the?!'
Snow snarled, an animalistic sound, and Vernon turned. Snow had made himself visible to the non magical eye. He was radiating fury, dark ripples flowing from as his eyes were black now, pools of unmerciful anger. "You dared to harm Harry. You dared to harm my charge, my Sabre. For that... you die!" A wave of energy soared from Snow, rattling picture frames, shaking walls and dust fell from the ceiling. Vernon Dursley fell down the stairs. There was a sickening crack as his neck broke.
Snow picked his way down the stairs, and looked as the man's eyes glazed over in death. His amber eyes met Vernons, and as he fell to the gates of hell, Snows eyes and words were burned into his mind for all eternity.
"This is the price you pay for crossing that line. You harmed my charge. My sabre. Nobody harms him and gets away with it. There is one price for that harm. Death. And so it shall be for anyone else who dares harm the boy... I call my son. And I always keep my word..."
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The heart of mercy hospital, children's wing.
Harry awoke, his arms failing, attempting to scream. No sound. He looked up to find two sets of brown eyes looking at him. "Hey there" Juliet said, smiling at the frail looking boy. "You're in hospital, so stay calm. You're perfectly safe here" Harry looked shrewdly at her, his green eyes narrowed. Snow wasn't around, he couldn't see him. Where was he?
He tried to open his mouth when there was a rustle besides the bed and Snow's head poked out from under the bed. "Hey kiddo. Sab. Are you alright?" Harry nodded once, not wanting to look completely mad in front of two strangers. Juliet, the nurse looked at him and whispered something to the young girl, who smiled softly, jumping on the end of Harry's bed . The adult wandered off and Harry softened slightly. He would never trust adults fully, only children his own age, if they were like him.
The brown eyed girl looked at Harry, her little legs swinging from the bed. "You can tell your cat friend he can come out now" she said matter of factly.
Harry was attempting to warn Snow, when the little dragon poked his head out from the bedclothes and said "I"m not a damned cat, child" he said testily, his eyes narrowed and his voice snooty.
Hermione huffed and crossed her arms "Well I apologise then. What are you?"
Snow raised one eyebrow, which was rare for him. This human child intrigued him. He could see the power pouring from her, still mainly untapped. She would be a powerful spell weaver when she came into her gift and as he watched, a plan came to the fore of his mind. A small tendril of his own dark gift caressed against her own magic, a small part embedding itself into her own magic. It wouldn't survive her own magic but it would grant her the touch of the dark arts, giving her power to come in the years. Finally he spoke "I, child, am a dragon"
Hermione looked at him. "You look like a cat. A big black cat" She said flatly.
Snow snorted "Can you believe her Harry?" He got no response "Harry?" He said, looking in concern at his young friend. Harry kept opening his mouth but nothing was coming out. "Harry?" Snow said, concern in his voice.
"I'll get my mum" Hermione said, slipping off the bed and hurrying out of the room as fast as her little legs could take her.
Snow had come to the face of the bed, his forehead resting against Harry's "My little Sabre... what did he do to you" He trailed one paw down Harry's jaw line his amber eyes soft as he watched his young charges face. Harry's eyes were always emotionless, but this time, he could see what he was feeling. Sadness. He was feeling sad for Snow. Sad because he knew he couldn't talk now, but sad because of how Snow was feeling.
Juliet came hurrying back into the room, and looked at Harry and paused, as Hermione came in behind her, clutching a pen and a pad of paper to her chest. The pad had the logo across it 'I'm a book worm... so sue me stupid' She passed the pen and pad over to Harry and Snow nodded his thank to the young girl.
Harry took the pen and wrote on the page, his pen scratching on the paper in the silence. He held it up "I can't speak... what happened to me?"
Juliet paused "I don't know... I'm sorry but I don't even know your name"
One word was written back "Harry"
Juliet smiled "Alright Harry, that's good to know. You were brought in last night, I don't know by who... but you were in a bad way. Where are your parents Harry?"
"I'm an orphan" came the written response.
Juliet frowned "Your guardians then" she said. The boy, Harry was looking at something else.
Snow sighed "Yes it was Vernon, Harry" he said softly "And yes Harry... he's dead" Snow saw a flicker of satisfaction cross Harry's face. A wicked grin crossed Snow's. Good. No one should mourn that fat git. Harry turned his attention back to adult.
"My guardians hate me. I'll give you three guesses who did this to me"
Juliet sucked in a breath, his guardians did that to him? They were monsters. "Your guardians did this?" She just got a 'what did I just say?' look from Harry. "Harry... I." The boy just looked at her.
"Run your tests mum" Hermione's small voice startled her "Run your tests and I'll talk to him"
"Are you alright with that Hermione?" Juliet asked, as her surrogate daughter smiled that smile of hers and nodded. Moving out of the room, Juliet planned in her mind to run a cat scan and to check the vocal chords.
Harry lay in the bed and sighed. He could still sigh. He looked at the young girl his own age at the end of his hospital bed. Her bushy hair was brown, like her chestnut eyes, wild and untamed. A cute nose, high cheek bones and a rather prim smile made her look older than the seven years she really was. Harry liked her from the moment he met her. She was like him, he knew it. "Do you want to read a book or something?" Hermione asked shyly, looking at the floor.
A tap on the shoulder and an enthusiastic nod was all the answer she needed. Pulling out a book, she placed in front of Harry, only to find a black paw resting on top of it. "I'll read it" Snow said, flipping the page with a strand of his magic. Hermione watched in awe as this small tendril danced above Snow's head, holding the book and turning pages. She looked at Harry who smiled and just nodded at Snow. "Don't worry your frizzy little head" Snow said, one eye looking up at Hermione. "I do this all the time for Harry back... where he lives. Or lived as the case may be at the moment. Just sit back and relax."
Snow's sombre baritone lulled the two children as he started on the tale of the Lord of the rings. Halfway through the book, both children were asleep, Hermione leaning against Harry as she had crawled up the bed. Snow's eyes blinked once and a small sigh came from the little dragon. He looked at his now two charges and smiled softly. So young, so innocent, so unaware of the harsh realities that awaited them. Pulling the sheets up, tucking Hermione in, Snow let a tendril of his magic caress Harry's head, a lone tear shining in his eye. "Get well, my little Sabre, get well and cut your own path through life. I shall be the stone that sharpens the blade, but you shall be the one to use it. Get well my little Sabre... make me proud" Harry stirred once, smiled in his sleep and his mouth moved, no sound issuing, but Snow could read what he was saying.
Just one word.
'Snow'.
And like smoke on the breeze Snow vanished, as Juliet Granger came into the room, and looked upon the two sleeping children. The boy, young Harry must have a guardian angel.
No, Harry had a guardian demon.
One that one kill any who harmed his charge.
Snow kept his word.
Always.
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"Keep breathing Ceeli! Keep breathing!"
"That's easy for you to say Snow! You're not the one having this baby!"
Snow paced the wall of his cave, his wife, Ceeli, screaming as another contraction pushed through her.
"Get ready Snow, you're about to be a father!" Snow hurried over to his friend, Zzask, who was assisting the birth, like Snow had done for Zzask. A head appeared, and then in one messy movement a small hatchling hit the straw on the floor of the cave. Zzask looked stricken at the small bundle his eyes clouding over. "I'm sorry Snow... it's dead. Still birth"
Snow placed himself besides the little hatchling and felt his heart break. A female, looking almost the double of her mother, lay lifeless in front of him. "No..." Snow whispered, a tear shining in his amber eyes.
He felt a tail drape over his shoulders "I'm sorry Snow, I – Here comes another one!" And like the first another limp body hit the floor. Snow hurried to it, nudging it with his nose. This one was the spitting image of him. A son. It coughed and Snow's heart leapt, as the tiny hatchling took it's first breath. A light blue, near white like his father, it's golden eyes met it's father own matching pair.
"My son. No... our son" Snow breathed the words carrying in the still air. One dead, one alive. It was the nature of the wild. Licking the fluid off his son he looked down at his little son and whispered "You shall be named Sabre, a bright blade to shine in the darkness."
"Sabre... my son"
The hatchling died two months later, after uttering it's first and only word.
"Dada"
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And I hope you like it.
Snow's not a sue, he's very warped and bitter. A complex guy, he's... got streaks in him. Harry touched the good part.
Oh watch out wizarding world... You aren't prepared for this!
R and R please!