Icy Destiny

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Disclaimer: No, I do not own HP.

A/N: This is a transitional chapter and would most likely come off as a bit boring and on the short side. But there are some points that I must get across before continuing with the story. So yeah, here they are. And I'll update and post something more substantial and hopefully more entertaining next week. Promise :)

Chapter 5: Survival

"Those who have seen your face
Draw back in fear
I am the mask you wear." - Phantom of the Opera

Tears.

Bitterness.

Regret.

The falcon cawed weakly, taking shelter beneath the boy's slender form as a violently cold gust of ice blew in their direction. It's beetle black eyes focused on the boy's shivering form, frostbitten hands, and dazed eyes.

Caw.

It didn't understand. The child's magic, once so warm and innocent, had begun to falter...begun to slip away.

It was freezing now. Deathly so.

"Daddy..." the boy breathed softly, his eyes filled with longing. "Come back." Harry shook his head slightly as if trying, unsuccessfully, to clear the fog in his mind. "Please? I'm sorry. Come back. I need you..."

The wind roared louder.

Harry sniffled, a weak broken sound emerging from his throat. "Please Daddy?" he begged, shivering violently. "Please. You promised me that you'd always be there for me. You promised."

You told me you loved me.

You told me I was your one and only.

You told me that you'd never let anyone harm me...

The falcon squawked miserably. The boy's magic, which had once been so strong and brilliant, dimmed. Apparently, the human hadn't finished making his shelter. And now, as the storm raged above, tearing its claws down the boy's exposed back, with a feral gusto.

And Death was to be their reward.

Harry pulled out the silver dagger from his pocket and held it tightly against his chest. It his last link to his father...

'Forget about that traitor,' a soft voice whispered enticingly in his ear. 'You are stronger than that. You are everything he is not." The voice drifted silently about before whispering gently, "You are pure..."

Harry flinched at the sound of the voice and seemingly icy cold fingers that trailed across his mind. It was back again.

'...don't let others control you. Be yourself. Show the world who you truly are; show them what you are capable of doing with your own two hands.'

The boy shook his head in dismay. But he couldn't do anything. He was a squib. He...was weak.

The voice turned scornful. 'Or perhaps you aren't worth the bother,' it said coldly. 'Those who don't appreciate their own skills are worthless. Those who aren't strong to take carve their own futures do not deserve to live...'

"But I don't have any talents," Harry whispered aloud softly.

'If that is what you truly believe, then perhaps you don't...'

Harry felt the voice slowly depart from his mind. "Wait..." he asked suddenly, causing the cold icy touch on his mind to pause. "Who are you? What's your name?"

The voice paused. 'No one of consequence. I am who I am.' And with that said, the icy feeling in his mind disappeared.

And Harry was alone once again...

Diagon Alley
"M'lord, we have completed our tasks," a Death Eater with a long red stripe across his sleeve, marking him as a squad Captain, murmured. "Diagon Alley is completely in flames. We destroyed and killed everything on sight as ordered."

Voldemort dipped his head in acknowledgement, meeting the man's ice blue eyes. "And the casualty rate?"

"Miniscule," the man said promptly. "No one essential to your plans was damaged." A few wisps of the man's auburn hair fell onto his death eater mask, as he lowered his head reverently. "Though, a few idiots managed to get their asses fried."

The Dark Lord gave the man a cold glance.

The blue eyed man smiled mockingly, "And to think, it was but my very own father who placed them over the singeing blue fire and blasted them to oblivion" He plastered a worried expression on his face, making his voice high pitched and anxious. "Surely M'lord, you don't expect me to be like that. A murderer?"

"Stop with the historic, Freyr," Voldemort hissed with annoyance. "You are a murderer. And have been once since you were but the tender age of seven."

Freyr's eyes widened in maniacal surprise.

"But surely you can't blame me, m'lord. My entire family were but a bunch of loony Light wizards," he protested, with mocking amusement. "After all Dumbl-"

Voldemort's eyes glittered dangerously. "Crucio."

The auburn haired captain dropped to his knees and spasmed for moments as the curse struck him point black. Blood trickled down his chin, as his eyes glittering with a strange mix of pain and amusement.

"I must say, m'lord, your tortures are so wonderfully executed," he said sweetly, panting lightly in pain. "Never had I ever felt the ache in my bones, tears in my flesh, and organs rupturing, as I have under your command." Freyr bowed his head reverently. "You are truly a Dark Lord worth following."

Voldemort fingered his wand. "Captain..." he hissed darkly, "Shut up."

Freyr grinned maliciously but dipped his head in acceptance.

"If you were not so important," Voldemort drawled, "I would have put an end to your existence years ago." The Dark Lord looked down at the charred streets and houses that had stood for generations; houses that held the charred remains of pathetic Order members and other light wizards. "After all," he said softly, "revenge tastes best cold, no?

The other man's sapphire blue eyes twinkled fervently.

"Certainly, m'lord. That it certainly does."

Forest: Storm
No...it was the truth. It had to be.

He had always been taught since childhood that advice given by...unheard of voices, should always be wearily obeyed or at the very least considered. Mythical creatures, their names and powers lost within the twisted pages of wizarding history, were far too powerful for one to ignore...

"Caw," the falcon sqwaked miserablly, fluffing its feathers out again in a desperate attempt to stay warm.

Harry paused, his wavering emerald green eyes focusing upon the innocent creature before him. Perhaps the voice was right. Perhaps he did have the power to help others; even though he was a squib. Maybe...he could do some good before he passed away.

'If I'm going to die today. There are no second chances. No reprieves. But there isn't reason for the two of us to die' Harry thought, his eyes glittereing with determination.

He could save it - the falcon. At least he could die knowing he'd done the right thing. knowing that he'd helped an innocent.

In one swift move, Harry pulled off the warm shawl from his body and covered the empty part of the hole he'd carved. He ignored the falcon's worried squawk, beckoning the tiny creature into the small snow cave that he'd constructed.

"D-don't worry," he said softly, as the falcon stared up at him expectantly, it's beady black eyes unfaltering. "The blanket has..." he shook his head violently. "I-it has a warming charm o-on it," Harry explained, blinking away the black spots. "Once...storm over...it'll melt the snow. J-just c-cl-aw free..."

The falcon shrilled in dissent.

Harry shook his head. "I-I can't j-join you," he said feebly, "No...r-room."

The falcon clawed angrily at the blanket.

"J-just st-stay alive," Harry said softly, his vision darkening more and more by the second.

He felt so sleepy now.

"Mr. F-falcon..."

Harry trailed off slowly turned to the side, unconsciously flopping over on his back. His eyes, shattered emerald green orbs, stared up at the sky as swirls of white ice blanketed his thin form. His finger weakly traced the snake emblem on the dagger...

"...tell Daddy I'm s-sorry," he whispered aloud.

And right before Harry blacked out, his mind and will reached out in one desperate attempt to find his father. Reached out to say goodbye...

Only to find nothing...

Next Chapter: Of Fates and Lessons