Three Seasons

Disclaimer: Harry Potter etc. do not belong to me yada-yada. Don't sue. And remember, imitation is the most sincere form of flattery… I wonder if that still applies when money is involved (which it isn't in this particular case).

Oh, and before you begin reading, I warn that there will be a little SLASH involved. I also warn that there is a dun-dun-DUN PROPHECY involved which I think is the thing far scarier.

Prologue:

Draco said farewell to Pansy Parkinson. She was the last guest to leave his birthday party as her mother Violet had always been close to his. Mrs. Parkinson was worried about how Narcissa was faring due to Lucius' imprisonment.

The truth was that Narcissa really was fine. Draco could see how much better his mother looked now that he was gone. Frankly, he couldn't understand it. She was always telling him how terrible it was that he was gone and that the Malfoy name was going to be forever tainted because of his stupidity at getting involved in the Death Eaters. She went on and on about how she should never have married him and that it was only because of her father, and because Bellatrix had already married.

Narcissa turned to her son and the door shut. "Come along, sweetheart," she said. "I'm sure you're very tired after that party. Go in and brush your teeth and I'll come up to tuck you in."

Draco turned to her indignantly. "Mother, I am not a five-year-old. I am perfectly capable of staying up beyond nine o'clock and tucking myself into bed."

Narcissa just smiled at him. "Of course you are, honey. Now what did I tell you to call me."

Draco frowned. "I will not do it." He stomped up the stairs.

Narcissa just smiled neurotically to herself. Things were good without Lucius. She had her darling Draco all to herself, and even the house elves were punishing themselves less. If only Draco would stop scowling and would let himself call her "mummy". He was far too much like Lucius for his own good. Such was the dilemma. If he were to come back she'd have to share Draco and see him grow up to become a skirt-kissing Death Eater. But if he were to stay away, there would be no one to manage the accounts and she feared the Malfoy estate would crumble and the Malfoy name forever tainted.

Draco's scowl was still firmly planted on his face as he pulled on his pajamas before sliding between his luxurious sheets. It only deepened when his mother entered the room and he realised that she fully intended to tuck him into bed.

His mother approached gracefully. She ignored Draco's frown and pulled the silk sheets tight around her only son. Narcissa then sat herself on the bed, smoothing the sheets and her son's hair. "Did you have a wonderful birthday, darling Draco?"

"Yes, mother," her son answered monotonously.

"Sixteen." A soft smile graced her lips as she looked lovingly at her son. "Sixteen is the age of change. Great things will happen this year, Draco."

He did not reply, hoping that silence would lead to a speedier visit.

"Sixteen years ago I was lying in a bed just down the hallway, surrounded by the best medi-witches. That was the most wonderful day in my life. Did you know, dear, that we thought you were fulfilling a prophecy. One of the seers long ago predicted that in a time of great need, the three seasons would become one. No one really understood what that meant, but the three seasons are commonly believed to be three people born in the space of a year who were each born under different planets. Further incomplete prophecies indicate that they would be powerful wizards born under the planets of Mercury, Uranus, and the Sun. You were born under Mercury, and Harry Potter was born under the Sun. But none of the wizards born under Uranus showed any sign of great magical prowess." She sighed. "I always hoped that you were one of the three. I loved the idea of you being special, not just in my eyes.

"Your father liked the idea as well." Here, Narcissa's eyes narrowed as she remembered, the first time the smile had left her face since the day had begun. "So much, in fact, that he-" here Narcissa paused. Draco turned to look at her. He hadn't really been paying attention before, but now he noticed her discomposure.

"What, mum?" he asked, concerned.

"Darling, your father promised you to Lord Voldemort. The reason no one's ever pushed you into taking the Dark Mark early is because next year, on this very day, you'll be his. And there's nothing we can do to stop it."

She kissed his forehead and Draco heard her sniffle as she left the room.

The scowl returned and his brow furrowed. Promised to Lord Voldemort? No way. He'd get himself out of it, even if his mother didn't think he could.