Seasons
by valacirca

Part Two: Summer

Summer storms.

It was one of those days again.

It had been raining a lot lately. Not the chill-your-bones type of rain, but the refreshing right-after-a-hard-and-sweaty-game-of-Quidditch rain. The one that's good for the soul. And God knows I need it. Badly.

I didn't know that he was saying goodbye then.

Only now after months have passed that I realise it. I never heard from him since then. I don't know who to turn to, to ask for help in finding him. Ron and Hermione, although they've become his friends too, wouldn't know. They usually ask me where he is if they needed him for something. Snape wouldn't tell me, and Dumbledore said he too didn't know, though I highly doubt that.

Why have I been looking for him in the first place?

I wanted to tell him that I think I've found out where my happiness is. That I think I've found out what's been missing in my life.

After that night in the borders of the Forbidden Forest, my thoughts have been haunted by the promise he made me do. I became aware of the constant aching to find such truths in my life. The foremost hit closest to home.

After graduating, I took the first practical job offer that came along. Quidditch. Being famous has a lot of ups and downs. I got offers for modelling, commercials and even permissions to do a movie about my life (and I'm only 20!), but none of those appealed to me. At least with Quidditch, I have the natural love for the game. But I don't intend to play Quidditch all my life. I feel that I could—should do a lot more. And that's what brought me back to the promise I made.

What would make me happy?

A few months ago I decided to quit the team to find out what I really want out of my life. But they wouldn't let me. My teammates, our coach, my manager, the owner—they don't want me to quit the team for a reason I can never fully understand, nor can I really articulate. So they decided to give me a year off, and I accepted.

The first thing I wanted to do was find out who I really was. I began to look for my family's history. The first person I thought of to ask for help was Hermione, for obvious reasons. And more convenient too since she was pursuing higher magical education under the supervision of Dumbledore in Hogwarts. There, we could get our hands on most of the books we need, restricted section or not.

For a year, we raked through all the books in Hogwarts for anything that would concern my family's history. And well well, look what I found.

It seems that the Potter family line is a short one, but we later found out that the original Potter family came from the branching of the Parthenes family in Greece. Hermione did a little study of the Greek language—not as fluent as she would have wanted, but enough to piece together some of the puzzles in my family line.

Now the Parthenes family had a quiet history. Nothing pivotal or greatly influential. More of an…existence. It was like saying that we…are. Just another proof that my father came from a long line of wizarding clan. I wasn't particularly disappointed, but considering the build up I got from people saying 'Potter? The Potter!' all the time, I guess that I was expecting something more.

I guess I could say that I'm in one of the most pivotal points in the History of Magic, not that I'm proud of anything I didn't exactly do. It's just a fact. And I think I have to come into terms with that certain fact about my life.

But that perception changed one night.

During one of our 'off days' when Hermione and I weren't really doing anything, we got a visit from Ron who was holding a copy of Hogwarts, A History. Of course the initial banters and jokes about the book were never lost but after that, it became quite…interesting to say the least.

With Hermione and Ron being my two best friends, it seemed natural for me to confide in them anything and everything. In one of our usual small talk, the topic of Death Eaters came about, which was quite a sensitive issue for Hermione. She had been one of the targets of the Death Eaters being a Muggle born herself.

But things have passed, and we need to start anew.

I don't know why, but maybe it was because of the fact that Draco was a friend who just happened to be a Death Eater himself, although not directly involved with the attack on Hermione, that I jumped to his defence. I began to tell them what he told be about the Death Eaters and the true reason as to why powerful wizarding families are sometimes associated with the Dark Arts.

Because of that conversation, Ron developed an unhealthy interest in Death Eaters. I never really knew his motivation on the subject. Probably because it involved Hermione. Or maybe because he came from an old pureblood family himself. But for whatever reason, he seemed to devote a part of his time to actually research on the subject. And his enthusiasm on the subject could almost rival with his enthusiasm with that of Quidditch. Almost.

But anyway, the first thing he greeted us with that night was a two-line verse from the said book.

"Listen to this, it was a translation from an old wizard poem: And so through our darkness, Death we choose to consume; for the spring of creation shall soon follow." Ron said.

Hermione and I blinked. "So?" I asked.

Ron rolled his eyes as if the answer had been obvious from the very start, which would have been if we knew what his focus was then.

"See," he said pointing out the words from the book. "Death and consume. Death Eaters. Darkness. Dark Arts."

"Okay…" I said slowly. "And the next part of the verse would mean…?"

"That's that I wanted to know." He turned to Hermione. "Hermione, I know I'd be asking too much from you…"

"Yes, Ron. I'll try to help you with it," she said with a sigh. A motivated Ron is sometimes quite hard to dissuade. "But you'll have to tell me first anything else you know about that verse," muttering silently about us having a great deal of interest in books only after we've graduated.

Ron gave her his most grateful smile.

"Well," he said, wanting to start right away, "if you must know, this came from the first chapter: Pre-Hogwarts and Arcane Knowledge and was just mentioned by passing. And oh yeah, I think this'll help you a lot. The poet's name was Ioannes Parthenes."

There was a *thud* as the book that I had been reading hit the floor.

The following days were a flurry of activity for us. Mind activity that is. Books and scrolls of old Greek texts and manuscripts were piled high. We pored through everything we could get our greedy hands on. My motivation was that I wanted more knowledge about my family. Ron's was about Death Eaters. And Hermione? She was doing it for pleasure. All our hard work paid off when we were able to finally put together everything, and we were able to draw the same startling conclusions.

That I am a descendant of a Death Eater.

It didn't come out as a nasty shock though, after all the research we did on the Death Eater Society of the old days. In fact, I'd go as far as to say that I'm pleased to know that I am a descendant of a Death Eater, provided that people don't associate me with Voldemort's twisted resurrection of the Death Eaters.

So there it was, the better part of my hiatus from Quidditch was spent in a small corner of the library in Hogwarts. At that point in time I thought that I made good my promise to find that missing piece in my life.

But I guess that wasn't it.

I returned to playing Quidditch soon afterwards thinking that I'd finally be content and happy, that a huge hole in me has been filled. But soon, discontentment came back. It became clear that the hole that has been filled was only my curiosity.

Now I look back thinking: why was it so important for me to learn who I am based on the long line of my family?

I think I have begun to understand a part of it. Acceptance was a key factor in doing that research. I remember him asking me to find something that would make up for something I've lost. At first it thought it was all about me, my identity, and how I could come to terms with that.

Now I realize that it had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Of course, learning everything I could about my family was an added bonus. But I know my friends wouldn't have cared less if I came from an old wizarding family or a Muggle family, because they made friends with me. I know that it wouldn't make a difference to the way I play Quidditch if I knew I was a descendant of a Death Eater or not.

Somehow, I guess my subconscious mind was working on some level.

I think at this point it's safe to assume that I've been attracted to him. Attraction that was easily dismissible. But as I've said, it was my subconscious mind that was doing all the thinking, and that attraction was resurfacing.

I thought that if I knew where I came from, I'd have more confidence. I knew that he came from a very old and powerful widarding family and he seems to take great pride in that. I wanted to prove to him that I am from one of the old and powerful ones too. Call me insecure, but I guess that's how it is. Somehow, I thought that if I could prove that point to him, he would accept me into his elite circle that I've only probably imagined.

How that sort of logic came to my mind? I have no idea.

I guess I've been searching for something all along, it's just that I don't have a clear notion of what I was looking for. I didn't even know that I've been searching until he spelled it out for me.

"Do you ever feel that there's something missing in your life? Like something about your family that you wanted to know, or something about yourself that you wanted to find out? Or something you wanted to fill, to make up for something you've lost?"

I nod.

"Find it. Promise me you'll find it."

I was confused. I didn't understand.

"Just promise me you'll try to find happiness, ok?"

Happiness.

But what is happiness? Is contentment? Is it bliss?

I really don't know. But at this point all I want is to find answers. And I think I'm starting to formulate the answers, and the picture was becoming clearer. It's like a jigsaw puzzle I think, with really large pieces. The pieces were there, taking form but somehow, the largest piece that connects them all to make a clear picture was missing.

Perhaps it's more than safe to assume that I'm attracted to him. In fact, I think it's more than just plain attraction. It's time that I reconcile my subconscious desires with my conscious needs.

I think—no. I know the missing piece.

Now I think understand him, what he was trying to tell me that night.

If he were to ask me then, I would have said yes. But he didn't. Instead, he gave me a very precious gift that night.

He gave me freedom to grow, to spread my wings.

He's like my summer rain. Refreshing, cleansing…good for growth.

I look up at the softly falling rain, wondering if the same clouds have passed him by today.

Draco, there's something I wanted to tell you.

I've just figured out what's been missing in my life.

Where are you?