With a slight sigh I stepped out of the doorway and into what was deemed the 'back yard' of my ancestral home. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly in a stream of white, which soon disappeared into the crisp winter air. Stepping further out into the completely snow covered ground I thought of the reason of why I was here.

One would argue that the reason was to give a certain child a few bright memories in what was viewed as a dark and unhappy childhood. Another was the that a damned old man was trying to drive me crazy. Though the same damned old man opted for the former while I opted for the latter, though that was before learning a few things about the said child.

The afore mentioned was currently sitting on an old swing that my mother had placed there shortly after my father died. Roughly pushing that thought aside I continued watching the small child. A week ago I wouldn't have thought that this particular person could be what I thought of as the-thorn-in-my-side-Potter.

~Flashback~

"Damn stupid poltergeist!"

Hurrying toward where I could hear the floating idiot I came into the hallway with the Bloody Baron behind me just in time to see who the victim was. There under the insanely cackling poltergeist was Potter, completely cover in a pale green potion. The one potion I had hoped no one would find.

It was then that Peeves looked up and caught site of the Bloody Baron and myself. With a yelp and insane laughter he flew off. Stalking up to where Potter stood I saw just what I hoped to not see. The damn boy was quickly regressing in age, though in a morbid sort of way it was fascinating.

The end result was a small child standing looking around with large frightened eyes wearing clothing far too large for his small frame.

~End Flashback~

Looking at the boys still form on the slightly swaying swing I was again reminded of why the boy acted. The boy was abused. Had been abused for many years and none of us knew. I should have seen the signs, but I didn't.

Letting out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding I began again walking toward the swing, but stopped in mid step. The boy was gone. With a few choice words I looked for the dark form of the boy.

Splat

The back of my head was cold and slowly becoming wet from the snow that stuck there. Turning slowly, a glare in place, I faced the culprit. Standing a few feet away was the boy, remnants of snow on his gloved hands... a slight look of fear in his eyes. After a moment he looked down. Bending down and gathering a bit of snow I smiled just bit.

"Harry."

At once his head shot up, at this I tossed the snow ball at him, hitting his front. Shock played across his features before his red cheeks moved, his lips showing a smile. At seeing this I felt a little lighter in heart. Maybe this could be good for both of us.

Splat

Of course, he just had to hit my face. Bright memories and insanity, great...