A few days after Christmas, Harry was at the local park. Aunt Petunia had banished him from the house again, deciding that since he wasn't doing anything to help out around the house, he didn't deserve to be inside the house at all. He had the cloak Jack had given him wrapped around his shoulders, so he didn't mind being out in the chilly winter air.

Harry wandered over to the swing set and sat down, half-heartedly swinging a little. Then he felt something cold sprinkling down into his hair. He looked up to see Jack Frost balanced on the swing set railing above his head, using his staff to send snowflakes dancing down onto Harry below.

"Jack! You came back!" Harry cried delightedly.

"Of course I came back, Snowflake. I promised I would, remember?" Jack grinned, jumping down to land in front of Harry.

Harry looked down. "I know you promised…but people always break promises."

"Hey, do I look like 'people' to you?" Jack asked, tilting Harry's chin up to look him in the eyes.

"…No?"

"That's right, Snowflake. And I'll never break a promise to you."

Harry smiled, all worries forgotten.

"Now, then, do you want to play a game?" Jack asked mischievously.

"What game?" Harry asked excitedly.

"How about a snowball fight? Or building a snowman?"

"But Jack…there isn't enough snow for that," Harry said.

Jack pointed his staff at the sky, causing it to start snowing more heavily. "There will be soon," Jack promised. "And I guarantee this stuff will be perfect snowball snow."

"There's different types of snow?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Oh, sure," Jack verified. "There's the powdery stuff, there's the icy stuff, there's the blizzard stuff…don't give me that unimpressed look, Harry; I know what I'm doing. I'll have you know that 'stuff' is a very technical term!"

"What's 'unimpressed' and 'technical' mean?"

"Er…well, if you're unimpressed by something, it means that you don't find it very noteworthy, that it's a load of bollocks – No, hang on, don't repeat that word to anyone, Harry; it's a very bad word, and you should never use it. Moving on," Jack continued hurriedly, "the word 'technical' refers to the fancy, proper term for something, at least, it does in the way I used it. It could also refer to something related to technology, like a telephone or television…yeah." Jack ended his explanation rather awkwardly.

"Oh," Harry said. Then he asked, "What does 'bollocks' mean?"

Jack groaned. "No, no, forget it, Harry; pretend I never said it…And for the Moon's sake, never repeat it to any adults. Oh, I'm such a horrible influence…"

Harry giggled at Jack's antics. "Okay, Jack."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Oh, look!" he exclaimed. "There's enough snow on the ground now. Want to make a snowman?"

"Sure!" Harry agreed.

The pair of friends began to roll spheres of snow. Jack explained to Harry how to pack the snow into sturdy balls, as Harry had never built a snowman before. Soon, thanks to Jack's abilities to manipulate snow, they had succeeded in building a two-metre tall snowman. Jack lifted Harry up to add stones to make the snowman's face.

"That's fantastic!" Jack exclaimed, gently placing Harry back on the ground and ruffling his hair. "You've really got some artistic talent, Snowflake."

"It really does look good, doesn't it?" Harry whispered in awe, admiring the snowman.

"You bet it does," Jack agreed. "We make a good team."

"Yeah!" Harry agreed enthusiastically. Then he became more subdued. "Jack…why do you like me so much? And play with me? Everyone thinks I'm a freak. Do you only talk to me because I'm the only one who can see you?"

Jack knelt in front of Harry. "Listen, Snowflake…you are not a freak. Never, ever think that, okay? I talk to you because you're a great kid, and because you're my friend. Sure, our friendship may have started because you can see me, but I stick around because I genuinely like you, kiddo. I've seen plenty of kids on my travels around the world. Even though they can't see me, I still interact with them. And none of them hold a candle to you, Snowflake. Okay?"

Harry nodded, reassured. "Okay...but what does 'genuinely' mean?"

Jack smiled sheepishly. "I keep forgetting you're only four years old. It means that I honestly like you, that I'm not lying about liking you. Does that make sense?"

"Uh huh," Harry grinned.

"Good," Jack said, ruffling Harry's hair. He seemed to enjoy doing that.

Harry looked at the slowly darkening sky. "I should go back to the Dursleys before it gets too dark. I might get in trouble if I don't. I don't want to go, though, Jack." Harry frowned sadly.

Jack also looked sorrowful. "I wish I could take you away from there, Snowflake. But I don't have a proper house, and I wouldn't be able to feed you, since I don't need to eat. I'll walk you back to your relatives' house, though. And I'll have Sandy – the Sandman – keep an eye on you."

"Thanks, Jack," Harry said, as the pair trudged back towards Privet Drive. "I'm glad you really are my friend."

"Me too, Snowflake."

As they reached the front yard of 4 Privet Drive, Jack leaned down to give Harry a tight embrace. "I'll visit again soon, Snowflake," he promised. "If you see any golden sand floating around at night, that's the Sandman's Dreamsand. Just give it a tug to get his attention if you want to talk to him. He doesn't talk out loud though; he just uses symbols made of sand to communicate. But you're clever. You'll know what he's saying."

"Okay," Harry said. "Thank you, Jack."

Jack ruffled Harry's hair one last time before Harry turned to enter the house. "Good luck, Snowflake. Until next time."

Harry turned to give Jack a faint smile. "Until next time," he echoed.

Then he entered the house, leaving Jack standing barefoot in the snow. Jack looked to the sky and called for the Wind to take him away.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered as the Wind carried him into the night.