A/N: Welcome! If any of this seems familiar, this is the rewrite of my other story, Melody of Magic. I hope to be much less confusing here and keep it straight to the HP fandom.

The upcoming chapters will be longer, promise! After all, this is merely the prelude. :D

Image Song: Kaze no Machi He composed by Yuki Kajiura, featured in Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicle. It's truly a beautiful piece, and there's an English version of the song that stays true to the Japanese if you don't want to listen to the original.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP or the image song.

Melodia Magicae

Written by Fenikkusu

Prelude – To the City of Wind

Floating beyond time, there's a city made of wind
Please dear, take me there
Where dreams draped in white flowers come true
~Kaze no Machi He (English Dub)

Christmas was supposed to be a time when families came together.

Why then, was Harry Potter thrown outside with a hiss of "Freak!" from his Aunt Petunia? The five-year-old stared at the door of Number Four Privet Drive with wide, innocent eyes. They glimmered with unshed tears; there was no point in letting them fall anyway. In this temperature they would just freeze to his face. Harry's heart was done aching. If he became as cold and numb as this blizzard, he wouldn't hurt anymore. He wouldn't need to cry anymore.

He only burned a little bit of the Christmas ham. You could barely even see the dot of black. Harry was lucky enough to have the most meticulous aunt in the world. She placed a microscope to the piece of meat to search for any inconsistencies. If Aunt Petunia wasn't as picky as she was, no one would have noticed! If Aunt Marge weren't visiting for the Christmas season, maybe Aunt Petunia would've been less picky. Nevertheless Harry learned very early on not to keep his hopes up.

The boy's stomach growled, and pale hands pressed against it. It's not like Harry was going to get any of the food in the first place. He only wanted a little bit after everyone was done, after he was ordered to clean the table and get rid of the scraps… however few there were due to his uncle and cousin. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were fat enough already! Why couldn't they share any food with him? Aunt Marge verged on obesity herself. Even her dog looked fatter than the poor kid.

"Oh, honey," a feminine voice whispered. Young Harry turned around to see a woman dressed in pure white wool robes. A hood covered the majority of her face and hair from view, though with the wind one could see deep black strands fluttering about. The woman knelt down and gathered the boy into her arms. Harry couldn't help but melt into the warmth. "What are you doing here all alone? Where's your family?"

Harry's finger shook violently but stopped before pointing directly inside. Were they even his family? Would family do this? A part of Harry was frightened because he truly didn't know the answer to that question, though he didn't understand why he was afraid. The woman's grip tightened around him. She picked him up, pressing his head into the crook of her neck. Harry whimpered and curled closer; she was so warm. He'd never been hugged before, let alone be touched in any manner other than a harsh tug into the house or Cupboard.

He shivered not only from the cold; the Cupboard was for really bad boys like him. Would the Huggy Lady put him in one too? Harry hoped that she wouldn't, but he tightened his grip on her neck anyway.

The woman sighed, pressing a kiss to the boy's disheveled locks. Harry couldn't ignore the blossom of warmth. "Little One, why don't you come with me? I can take you away from these nasty people," she whispered to him, rubbing small circles in the boy's back. "You deserve a place where you'll be loved."

Love? Harry thought to himself. Is love the warmth I feel? It's betta than Unca Vernon and Auntie Pet, right? Harry nodded against her shoulder, eyes beginning to drop. He was just so tired.

"All right, then. Hold on tight!" the woman whispered to herself, as Harry had already passed out. The two disappeared with a distinctive pop that couldn't be heard over the howling winds.

A screeching alarm made both Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore jump. The older one turned to a simple clock mounted on a nearby wall. Instead of the normal numbers, there were words describing different types of situations. A swish of the Headmaster's wand silenced the annoying machine. He then took the time to pop a piece of candy into his mouth.

"Oh dear," Dumbledore muttered, glancing over at one hand of the clock. It pointed to mortal peril. "I must ask you to do something for me, Severus."

The man clad in intimidating black crossed his arms. "Anything, Headmaster," was the reply with a shred of sarcasm. Without the students and the rest of the staff here, the Potions Master was able to drop a few of his barriers. However some personality traits were too far ingrained at this point.

A slight smile crossed Dumbledore's wrinkled face. "My clock says that Harry Potter is in danger. Could you go che—"

"No."

"But Severus…" was the beginning of a plea.

"Absolutely not, Albus! I refuse. I am not the Potter-spawn's keeper!" The hiss from Snape reminded the Headmaster all too much of the weight of the house the young man bore.

The smile faded from Dumbledore's lips as he replied in a soft tone, "But you often forget that Harry is Lily's child as well." At this the younger man tensed like a snake preparing to strike. "I hear there's a blizzard by Harry's home. The clock may be malfunctioning, but I cannot check myself as I have the students to tend to." The Potions Master nodded; he knew Dumbledore was referring to the few children who stayed at Hogwarts over the Christmas holiday. As the rest of staff spent the time with their own families, Dumbledore and Snape were the only ones at the school.

Severus would rather not think about why those children chose to stay at Hogwarts, though he knew why most of them did already. A good majority of them came from his own house, and Slytherin was unfortunately known to be the home the less… appreciated children. Coming from one such household himself, Severus knew better not to ask unless the students came to him first. The one exception was if the welfare of the student was in jeopardy.

"Very well, Headmaster," Snape replied tersely, his cloak billowing as he turned on his heel and began walking toward the door. Annoyance bled off of him in waves.

"Thank you, my boy," was the response before the door to the Headmaster's office slammed shut.

A quick walk and disapparation later, Snape found himself in the middle of the worst storm Little Whinging had seen in centuries. The wizard cast a warming charm and wrapped his cloak more firmly around him. Good thing that he apparated just outside the boundaries of Number Four Privet Drive, as the bustle of snowflakes made it impossible to see a few feet ahead. Silently cursing the Potter-boy for ruining his holiday, the man trudged forward.

He peered through the nearest window, which gave a view of a large feast and a family sitting around it. Severus grimaced; three of the four people sitting around the table were extremely overweight, while one woman remained as thin as a stick. Ah, Petunia, Snape thought with a sneer. He would never forget the crow which was his precious Lily's sister, even if he hadn't seen her in decades. The disgust ever present in her eyes was a dead giveaway. When the lips of the inhabitants began to move, Severus whispered an amplification spell.

"My goodness! Is this ham burned?" the fat lady tsked, "I told you that boy was nothing but trouble! I'll sick Ripper on him again. Where's the damn brat?"

"I've already left him outside to think about what he's done," Petunia said without a care in the world. Severus' eyes narrowed. Didn't they know there was a blizzard occurring?

"I wanna throw snowballs at the Freak!" the youngest pig squealed, jumping up and down in his seat. His massive weight caused the dishes on the table to rattle.

"Finish your food first, Duddykins. Why don't you have Ripper join you?" the fat woman replied.

"You're stupid. Dogs can't throw snowballs!" The boy pointed and laughed, thereby knocking even more food off the plate onto the floor. The aforementioned dog lapped up the mess all too happily.

The supposed man of the house turned to the boy, "Dudders, don't call your Aunt Marge names."

"But she's stu—" Severus left the windowsill as the whale of a boy choked on something. What did they mean by 'left him outside'? Surely they cannot mean… With a nagging tug in his chest, the professor slipped around the house to the back. Seeing no signs of life there he walked to the front door.

To his silent horror, there were faint indents of footprints on the front doorstep. His eyes narrowed as he could see the outline of the toes. That meant the boy hadn't been wearing shoes when he was thrown out by Petunia. Severus turned his head to the left. He could see larger boot-shaped tracks in the snow, but there was no sign of the Potter-boy. Snape cursed as he followed the larger footprints outside the boundaries of the house. He immediately disapparated and began sprinting toward the castle.

Dumbledore's clock wasn't broken. Harry Potter was gone.