CHAPTER FOUR: Everwinter's Past

As the memory formed around Dorien, he tried to hold back tears. He looked around and saw the small village, hidden in the dense brush of the forest. He watched his younger self, just a child, about ten years old despite him looking half that age, playing with his brother, who was four. Still practically a newborn.

It was at this moment that his life changed forever. He watched as his parents ran over to him and his brother, and tried to carry them out of the village. He turned around the look at the village itself. The whole thing was covered in flames. He watched as the dragon burnt up his home. His mother had held him in her arms as she tripped. She fell to the rugged ground. Young Dorien heard a snap and his mother screaming at him to run. His father handed his brother to him and told him to go. Dorien turned and started running. His brother, Dory'th, in his arms, crying. Dorien looked back one last time to see his father help his mother up onto her feet before watching the two of them get consumed by the flames. He kept running, not knowing what to do if he survived. As far as he knew, he had no family outside of his parents and brother.

Suddenly, young Dorien saw something out of the corner of his eye. The dragon rushed over to him, snatching his brother out of his arms with its talons. The dragon was hard to keep track of in the forest, as the green of its scales nearly matched the green of the trees. The dragon flew higher and higher. Young Dorien screamed out trying to get the dragons attention. As he did this, a blue aura surrounded him. It extended outwards toward the dragon. As it got closer, it took the same shape as the dragon, nearly exact. Dorien watched as he casted his first patronus. He still could not figure out why his patronus would be the creature that caused him so much pain. Dorien thought about leaving the memory, but as he does every time he visits, he couldn't help but watch the dragon start to fly away from his patronus, dropping Dory'th from above the trees.

Dorien exited the memory before watching his brother fall to his death again. He witnessed it once, and that was plenty for him. As he was planning on exiting, his mind flashed over to another memory.

Dorien, now aged a few years, about eighteen now, sat in a classroom. Professor Snape sitting across from him, and one other student. Another Slytherin, just like him. He remembered her vividly. Her name was Evanna Murphy. Her red hair glistened in the sunlight. Dorien looked on this memory in curiosity. Evanna never made an impact on him. He only knew her because she was always in Snape's classroom while everyone else dealt with the one person nearly the whole school despised.

"Now, you must add seven drops of hellebore" Snape calmly told them. Dorien watched as both he and Evanna finished their potions. As the potion cooled, they both turned turquoise blue. Evanna giggled as she finished hers.

"Professor Snape. Why did you have us make Draught of Peace again?" Dorien asked, as he took a vial and filled it with the potion.

"Madame Pomfrey said she was running low. You two seem to excel the most at brewing it. You both also spend quite some time in my classroom. Nearly every time I'm here" Snape answered.
"Yes, but Professor, we're down here because almost everywhere I go, I see either Harry Potter, whom I'd rather avoid, or there's another education degree by Umbridge. How much longer do we have to deal with her?" Evanna asked. Snape looked at her.

"Well, Dorien only has this year before he returns to Ireland. However, she will most likely be here for the rest of your schooling, Miss Murphy" Snape said. Evanna groaned and leaned back in her chair.

Dorien questioned why this memory was coming up now. He hadn't thought about Hogwarts, Snape, or Evanna in years. As he wondered why he saw this exact memory, another one had begun to form. This time, he appeared to be the same age as the last one, but in a much different location. He was surrounded by people in robes and hoods. Some had a staff in their hands, and some did not. This was who had raised Dorien after his parents were killed by the dragon.

"Dorien Everwinter" One of the hooded figures shouted. "Why have you called this meeting?"

"After the end of the Second Wizarding War, we lost many of our kind. I've been offered a position at Ilvermorny School. I wanted your permission to go and teach. Maybe, we could start to rebuild the already dwindling population" Dorien answered. Dorien looked back on this memory. It was fairly recent. Only about three years old.

"Rebuild? Everwinter. You know that Druids are strictly born into the bloodline" The same figure mentioned.

"I am aware of that. But there must be something we can do" Dorien pleaded.

"Everwinter. My boy. I will grant this request on one condition. You only teach our ways to those who are deemed worthy. You have your stave? You know spells and ways to find out. Otherwise, our magic must stay ancient. While they are magical as well, there is a difference between a Druid and an Arcane wizard" another of the Druids answered.

"Very well, Uncle. I can promise that" Dorien told them. He then took his staff and muttered an incantation. The staff glowed a bright yellow, then turned into a necklace. A golden one, in the shape of a Bridgid's cross. He put it around his neck and stood up, nodded at the Elders, and turned around to leave, and the memory faded away.

Dorien finally came out of the pensieve and looked in wonder. He still had yet to find anyone worthy of learning Druidic magic, but he was okay with that. The more he spent with the rest of the magical world, the more he understood it, and respected it. However, he could not reason as to why the memory in Hogwarts had appeared. He started to make his way to the great hall for the rest of the ceremony, still thinking about it. As he was making his way up past the house tables, with all the students sitting, talking, and questioning what was to happen next, he glanced over at the Pukwudgie table. He looked at his house with pride. As he looked upon his students, his eyes rested once again on Evan Baxter. He realized exactly at that moment why he saw the memory of him brewing the potion. Evan looked almost exactly like Evanna. The only real difference was the fact that Evanna had red hair and Evan, despite it looking red in some light, was blonde. But his face, mostly his eyes and nose, looked nearly identical to Evanna Murphy. Dorien smiled to himself and made his way up to his seat. It made sense to him now. Evan was Evanna's son. And clearly he was named after her. Dorien looked upon the four houses of Ilvermorny just as Agilbert Fontaine made his way down the great hall.