Disclaimer: Most of the Harry Potter Characters belong to JKR and co. I just play with them.

I would like to Thanks both my Betas: Mr Tibbles and Ms Mika

The Song of the Cold

Chapter One

Beginning

The young man looked out of the carriage in what could only be described as bored curiosity. They had long gone through the forested arch that served as the only entrance and exit to the college. The woodland was the guardian and border to keep the rest of the world away from the boarding school, for several reasons. One such reason standing as: to keep the residents safe.

Ink black hair curtained the open scenery as dark eyes watched with hidden awe. All across, from what he was able to see without moving from his position, were open fields of luscious green grass, and the few trees that were still present - even after the forest was left behind - held a majestic manner that seemed almost magical. A rain of colour showered the air and the ground; petals and leaves from said trees escaped their holdings and danced in the wind with careless vigour. The sun gleaming onto the different planes and settings was giving away its own aura of enchantment.

He suppressed the urge to halt the coach so that he could indulge the sudden need to go out and play, like a child, amidst the colourful wonders.

The youth scowled at his own thoughts before letting his mind wander, ’How did it come to this?’ “It seems to be the only thing that crosses my mind, as of late.”

“What may that be?” His companion, the headmaster of the Sixth Form, asked, bringing his own twinkling blue orbs to land on vivid, confused emerald eyes.

“Nothing,” The boy replied, turning his face back to the window, his voice void of emotion.

Slowly, the carriage began to kill its speed, bringing them to the very entry of the grey castle that would be the youth’s home for the next two years. Harry stepped down from the small compartment, shaking his head from the change in spaces before looking up to the now huge-looking structure that stood before him. He shivered slightly although it was quiet warm and there was no breeze to speak of. The building held that look of forbiddance and fun as well as formality and class all in one. It was almost supernatural.

“Welcome to your new home.” Dumbledore beamed, without really smiling, as he looked down at the seventeen year old.

He followed the smaller boy, keeping a few steps behind. The escort was in fact a student from the junior brother school of Hogwarts, Hogstead. As it happens, said student spent so much time under suspension from classes that he had become the Headmaster’s own personal assistant, running minimal errands. Or at least that was what he had been rambling on about, amiably, on his way to showing Harry his new bedroom.

“Most of the professors do at one point teach down at Hogstead, but of course we have our own professors. Dumbledore is head of both schools although McGonagall is like a second head teacher at Hogstead because Dumbledore spends a lot of his time here. That’s why I’m here. McGonagall hates me; she can’t stand me and therefore she sends me to the appropriate head of school, or college as is the case here.” He flashed a smile as he half turned his face to look back at Harry sideways. Harry only managing to smile politely, but didn’t really bother to hide his boredom all that well.

“What is your name anyways? My name is Collin, in case you forgot.” He stopped before a door, standing just to the left of it as he waited for an answer.

“Thank you, Collin. If it is as you claim, and you spend most of your time here rather than at your own school, then perhaps I may see you again.” Harry twisted the handle and opened the dark oak door to his bedroom; he walked in, and stood just behind the door already closing the wooden barrier. Collin smiled, although he seemed rather offended as he began to move away. “Oh, and Collin, my name is Harry Potter.” Harry nodded his thanks once more and closed the door, not missing the grin that the younger boy sent him before he vanished from view.

“How did it come to this?” The seventeen year old repeated his mantra as he leaned back against the door for a second. Catching himself before he went into another daydream, Harry took in his surroundings and noted that his luggage was already in the room - on one side of the room at that. Presuming that the left was his side of the room, as that was where his luggage was, and that he was indeed sharing the room with someone else, Harry began to settle in.

Walking around the room, he began to familiarise himself with what would be his new quarters for the next two years. The walls were coloured a dark grey on his side, and the floor was of black marble. His bed was a king size, dressed in deep royal black with the black curtain that would normally surround it hanging to the left of the bed. Harry assumed that the curtain was perhaps an addition to the décor, after the room had become a shared accommodation, to add privacy for the individuals, as it stood quite apart from the bed itself. At each side of the bed stood grey night tables, both holding black night lamps and nothing else. A walk-in wardrobe stood to the left of his bed, the doors a medium shade of grey.

His roommate’s side of the room sported a deep red with royal purple, a few personal items spotted around, but other than that, the area was immaculate.

The window was opposite the entrance door, it was a piece made entirely of glass, standing from floor to ceiling, with a fine black frame encasing it. Thin, elegant black vines moved from each of the four corners and met in the very centre of the frame. Upon closer inspection, Harry noted that the centre was not just a black cross, but the arms of the cross were actual handles. Pulling at the left handle, Harry opened the glass to discover that it was not a window, but a door, and that it led to a balcony. The balcony was made with the same intricate design as shown on the window’s inner frame but in a simpler fashion as though to keep the stone’s richness and control.

Closing the door, Harry turned to the room and continued familiarizing himself.

Two doors stood at each side of the room: one to the right of Harry’s bed - and the other was exactly opposite - to the left of his roommate’s bed. Harry’s door was a dark grey colour whilst the other door was a dark purple. Moving to his door Harry found himself in an en suite bathroom. The décor was in similar colours to his bedroom, but it seem to be slightly brighter; the walls were a light shade of grey and the floors were a grey marble, a shade darker than the walls. The bathroom consisted of a shower and large marble counter sink facing each other from each end of the room. The counter was light grey, the mirror, which covered the entire wall, from ceiling to counter, was shimmering and vine shapes danced in light grey on the border. The toilet was in between the shower and sink, standing entirely in black. Facing the toilet was a line of black hooks on the wall, serving to hold robes, towels and so forth. The shower itself seemed to be an encased room of darkness; it was a section on its own, fitting at least half a dozen or so grown men inside with room to breathe. A glass pane served as a divider, running from wall to wall and from an inch below the ceiling to an inch above the floor, opening at the centre. The same patterns adorned the shower door as did the balcony door, only in this case, the vines were slightly thicker and a shade of medium grey.

Harry walked out of the bathroom and looked to his right. There, his desk stood there made of rich mahogany with a black-cushioned high back chair, tucked neatly into it. Letting out a breath of acceptance he moved to his luggage and began to unpack.

“Are you sure that Dumbledore would really punish you with a roommate?” The redhead asked, as he lay on his bed, his head hanging upside down over the side as he played with the game in his hand, the tip of his tongue stuck out in semi-concentration.

His Italian friend only grunted a response, sitting at the head of the redhead’s bed, his back leaning against the headboard, staring into space with a small frown.

“I bet he would.” The blond on the other side of the room smirked. He sat in the middle of his deep emerald green bed, a couple of books scattered around him, a thick volume in his hand.

“Dumbledore hasn’t really bothered before though. He has always just threatened with something, but never really followed through with the severity of those threats,” The black haired girl that sat on one of the chairs pointed out as she looked up from her laptop, a small smirk of her own planted on her pink lips.

“That is true, but this time I think Blaise outdid himself,” the last of the group, a brunette, commented walking in from the balcony with a book in her hands.

“How?” The Italian asked in mock outrage as he lifted his head to look at the girl.

“Oh come, Blaisey. Do not act the innocent. I don’t think Dumbledore appreciated you throwing his students over balconies just to prove that your rope would hold,” Pansy called out, her voice rather formal but her smirk told other tales.

“He didn’t get hurt! Besides, it wasn’t like he didn’t have an extra safety set on him in the case that something went wrong; he did.” Blaise shot to his knees in defence.

“Only the boy didn’t know that. And being thrown over a balcony with only a flimsy rope from a coupled of storeys above the floor is going to traumatize any twelve-year old.” Ron laughed as he pulled up, shaking his head as it swam lightly from the blood that had rushed to the top.

“Whatever; the boy was just a wimp,” Blaise huffed, leaning back onto his heels and crossing his arms angrily.

“Face the facts, my dear Zabini, you are getting a roommate,” Draco called out gently, his voice retaining the posh, mock-huskiness of always held.

“Bite me, Malfoy,” Blaise bit out. Standing up rather roughly, he stomped to the door, opened it, and walked out; managing to bang it shut behind him, making Hermione and Ron flinch slightly and Pansy and Draco smirk further.

Ron moved up to follow the dark haired boy, but Draco stopped him. “He needs to cool down. Besides you can’t go bursting in on a raving spoiled brat; it’s bad for your health. I should know.” Draco looked up from his book, the glint in his eyes pointing out that he was the one inflicting the pain, not the other way round.

Harry looked around his side of the room once more. Everything had been cleared and put in its place. His trunk and his other bags now stood within the walk-in wardrobe with the rest of his things. Some personal effects showed around his side of the room. His laptop stood silent on the desk next to a lamp and an Emerald green dragon figure that he had bought on the shopping spree he had gone to, once he had been paid by his uncle Vernon.

A photo of his parents stood on one of his nightstands and a photo of his godparents stood on the other. With a nod of approval Harry dropped back on his bed, crossed an arm over his face and readied himself for a nap.

A door banged shut before his own door burst open and slammed shut again; the boy that had walked in, strutted right past him, muttering something about ‘spoiled kids, crazy old coots, whimpering babies and room sharing.’ Harry didn’t move; he wasn’t really interested in what would have his roommate in a strop. The door opening again made him move though as he sat up to see what was happening now.

A girl with light brown, curly hair walked in. Her walk was formal, but more studious rather than that of a spoiled rich kid. A taller, redheaded boy followed her in. He, too, bore himself with an air of grace, although he looked more casual. They walked up to the bed where the darker boy lay on his stomach; the girl stood just before the bed whilst the redhead moved to sit next to the feet of the Italian.

Harry lifted a dark eyebrow in question as the three presences seem to radiate a mourning aura. “Has someone died?” Another person walked in, this time a black haired girl. She radiated a rich-kid grace, but the I-don’t-give-a-damn look about her told Harry that people respected her for more than her money. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw yet another person appear, and resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he turned to look at the newcomer.

The blond stood, leaning against the doorframe looking straight at him, his silver eyes searching him in and out. Harry held his breath. The youth didn’t just speak of money; he spoke of power, influence, unadulterated beauty and secrets.

“Oh, hello,” Harry turned to the voice; the brunette was looking at him as though he had just appeared out of thin air.

“Hi,” Harry nodded, standing up to greet whoever wanted to greet him.

“My name is Hermione Granger. You must be the new occupant.” She smiled nervously as she moved forward and offered her hand.

“I’m Harry Potter, and yes I am.” Harry took her hand in a brief handshake before letting go. His attention was still on the blond, although he could only see him out of the corner of his eye.

“My name is Pansy Parkinson. I suppose a welcome is in order.” The other girl moved forward. She presented her hand as well and they shook smoothly. “The sulking brat is your roommate, Blaise Zabini. Don’t mind him, he’s just being sensitive now, he’ll come round soon enough and introduce himself,” she added mindlessly with a wave of her hand in the bed’s general direction. A grunt emitted from within the pillow, and Pansy rolled her eyes.

“Hey, I’m Ron Weasley,” The redhead called out with a wave. He stayed seated on the bed, his other hand gently massaging the back of Blaise’s knee.

Harry nodded, a small smile lifting to his lips. Turning to the blond he waited for him to introduce himself. The others also seemed to wait, but Harry had a feeling that they were waiting for something else entirely.

The blond looked him up and down briefly as though decining whether he was worth talking to or not. A slight smirk lifted his lips and he moved inside. In a few strides he was standing inches away from the raven. “Draco Malfoy,” Draco offered loud enough for the others to hear, before leaning in and whispering in a husky breath, “You and I, Mr. Potter, are going to have a lot of fun this year.” Draco smirked as he felt Harry hitch his breathe, and with a small bite to the earlobe he moved back.