Hadrian Potter and

A Deal with the Gods

So, one 'trigger' warning for the whole book. This story will contain elements of dark and light stories. There will be references to drug abuse, consensual and non-consensual sex, birthday parties, racism, murder/character death, Unicorns, and more (Not all at once).

If you notice plot ideas, or clichés familiar with other stories, the answer is yes. They probably came from them. I will attempt to list all the authors and stories I drew from so that it's clear that I didn't come up with it. If you read more than a paragraph of this story chances are something is from another writer's work. Either used with permission, or not due to not remembering where it comes from. I'd don't want to give to much away. But several clichés included will be, Wrong Boy-Who-Lived, Harry has a sibling/Sister, and significant AU, OOC, and OC usage. I am against bashing of a character regardless of my personal feelings of said character. That said, as this is an AU many characters will be completely OOC at all times and thus bashing of THAT character may seem to happen.

A guide to this series is the concept of the world being seen through the protagonist's eyes. It'll have elements of Noir in that, if the 'main' character doesn't hear/see/witness something happen, he is unaware of it. Nothing bothers be more in stories than those scenes where some character remembers something they weren't there for. Exposition hammer for the readers. A character slays someone and walks away, but the reader notices the believed vanquished person twitch with life. Leading the readers to know to look for said characters involvement later on in the story. Marco Bodt Attack on Titan. Expect that.

I shall be using descriptive tools more often than factual non/verb for key moments. There is a difference between someone being shot, and Character A was standing at an angle to perceive character B was shot. Life isn't black and white (pardon the phrasing) and we often do not and never will know what motivates the actions of others.

Also, I do not own Harry Potter and the world created by someone else. Nor do I own any rights to…'Other' Stories I don't wish to name just yet to keep the surprises coming. Nor would I wish to, as to be honest I do not like the Harry Potter universe.

Three stories who Greatly if not entirely brought this concept to life were; Muggle-Raised Champion by Stargon1, Have Chrome, Will Travel by Deadlandmarshal, and Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Less Wrong. These are amazing stories that take, what I feel is, unique looks at an incomplete world. And made them so much better.

Summary: Magic took everything from him. Thus, when Hadrian Potter rejects attending Hogwarts, and receiving formal magical education, in favor of a simple life with his relatives the Dursleys; his mundane life is shaken to its core by a last-ditch effort to locate 'Harry Potter'. However, no formal magical training does not equate to no proficiency. (AU)

Notes: Alternate Universe. Slight Crossover(s).

Chapter One: A Night to Forget

October 31st 1991

Lost in the realm of dreams is the right where children should be when the moon is high in the night. A thrum of power woken Hadrian with a start. He rubbed his tired eyes and briefly did not recognize his surroundings. This wasn't his nursery of his parents' house. This was smaller. He liked his old room, he liked the marks on the wall that told his how tall he was growing, and the secret spot on the wall he and his sister drew on.

This had all changed when Mr. Dumbledore came over one day. He told his parents it was a good idea to leave the nice house, Address Potter Manor by floo, and move into this small house away from his uncles. Even if it wasn't supposed to be for long, one week was just far too long.

Another soft whimper sounded from his sister's crib. Her crib sat across the room from his closer to the door, while his sat towards the window. She whimpered lightly in her sleep, to quiet to have woken him yet here he is awake. It was then he felt it again. A pressure all around like trying to stand to quickly. His sister whimpered again, prompting him to make a grownup decision. He knew he was supposed to stay in bed, but this was more important. Reaching over the crib bars he unlatched the gate, allowing him to slide it to the floor. When his Uncle Moony taught him how to do this, he made Hadrian promise it was only used for important things. Things like looking after his sister.

As he crossed the bedroom and passed in front of the window, he noticed a special cloud blocking out some of the moon light. A kind of greenish-black head with no hair, and a worm on it.

He was overly confident that it was a bald-headed man, with a worm hat. Having played the cloud naming game for a number of years with Trillium, he was a master. His sister though always saw the strangest of things. If he saw a fish, she saw a lion. If he saw a book, she saw a broom. It led to many arguments…or rather debates. Good siblings don't argue. Though try telling that to Uncle Padfoot. His Uncle Padfoot, and his brother Uncle Regulus never seemed to not argue. Though that was how older siblings acted.

Hadrian couldn't know about that, as he wasn't an older brother. Or a younger brother. When he and Trillium asked their parents one birthday, his parents explained that they didn't know. And after many assurances that both his parents were there at the hospital; the explained that for reasons even they didn't know no one seemed to remember which was born first, the children let it go. Who cares who is older. It's not like it'll ever matter, right?

Approaching her pink crib, he peaked in to see his sister sleeping fitfully. He gave her a gentle nudge in an attempt to wake her.

"Trill."

"Triiiiilll"

"Trillium Elizbeth Potter."

She merely tossed in her bed, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. Having failed to wake her, in even his best grown up voice he placed a hand on her and noticed she was warmer than the blanket should let her be.

It was time to consult the parents. Bad dreams were not nice to have, and it was important to stop them. But getting sick was even worse. While quietly moving away from his sister, he felt another thrum weigh him down. Maybe he was getting sick too? Sister first, then medicine. After cracking the door open, everything seemed fine till he walked through the doorway. The sound of shouting and things breaking were almost deafening. He quickly shut the door before it could wake Trill.

"Lily!" He heard his father call out for his mother. The sound seeming to come from under the floor, the common room he thought. As he ran along the stairs he heard his mother's voice begin to scream, before being quickly silenced.

A dull thud was all he heard as he watched his father fall to the floor.

Young Hadrian Potter should have been long since asleep. He should have been nestled in his flying broom decorated covers, wrapped up comfortably in his self-warming blankets and dreaming of the things young children tend to dream of. He should not have seen his father's crumpled corpse on the floor, his eyes forever open in a haunting stare. What child, barely two years old can recognize the sight of death? Something was wrong here. Why would his father lay down in the middle of the floor? How does one sleep with their eyes open?

A child that young should not been watching his mother pinned to a wall by an unseen force as an unknown man pointed a familiar looking thing at her. He'd seen a wand before. Not that wand, his father's which was still locked in a vice like grip of his father's hand, he now noticed severed from his prone form. His mother's wand lay broken on the floor below her feet which hovered slightly off the floor. Hadrian knew what a wand was, his parents used them to do all kinds of wonderful things. Things like lifting toys from across the room, and making water appear from nowhere. And his father would use it to cheat at hide and go seek!

He once played with his father's wand without permission. He was scolded so badly. His father told him wands were fragile, and if they broke they couldn't be fixed. "A broken wand cannot make magic" he had said.

He was momentarily broken from his reverie by his mother's raised voice. Why was his mother shouting at him to run? Hadrian wasn't used to being yelled out, he was a good boy. Maybe not all the time, but enough to be called a good boy by his parents, and his uncles.

He saw a cruel smile was etched on the stranger's face as they mockingly crooned at his mother. "You cannot fight against Fate woman. This night has been foretold, did that Old Fool not tell you so?"

His mother writhed against the wall, a mixture of fear and seething hatred in her eyes as she glared down her attacker.

"You'll not…take….my children." Her normally warm joyful voice was sharper, meaner. Even as she struggled for breath she would fight with everything she had.

"It is of little consequence. Accept my gift to you, a swift death. Be at peace."

With an exaggerated motion of the wand his mother dropped to the floor, but she was prepared. With speed of motions belying her injuries, notable by the growing red dampness seeping through her white flimsy nightgown, she tumbled to the side evading the most beautiful green light he'd ever seen. With a thrust of her open hand, a short gale of harsh wind blew towards the momentarily stunned, black robed man.

Before young Hadrian could comprehend the next motions, his mother was scooping him into her arms. Without a turn back for his father, his mother carried him with hurried motions towards the stairs. Taking them two at a time she made it to the sixth before she was violently yanked backwards. Although she was summoned backwards, he however was not.

Slipping from his mother's grip his head hit the corner of a stair violently adding a large gash to his forehead to the laundry list of bruises he'd have to have kissed better. Tears pricked at his eyes as his head swam in pain. His limited, staying up past bed time, focus swaying as he fell back onto his rump.

With a snarl Voldemort shouted an unintelligible word. What happened next could feature in Hadrian's nightmares for years to come.

It is a basic human instinct to recognize someone in physical pain. Whether it be grimaces of pain, a shudder of breath or even a world-shattering cry. And cry he did. The fire seemed to take on a life of its own as it emerged from the wand. A semi-sentient serpent of pure flame slithering along the floor and with nary a taunting pause before lunging onto its trembling victim. As quick as the molten flames pierced her skin, it bathed her in living fire. Fire that burned so hot sweat formed poured from the boy across the room. So bright it was, he wanted to shut his eyes and look away, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from his mother burning alive in front of him. With jagged movements she tried to crawl toward him as her body burnt up; failing to even make it the small distance between them. Lastly, he heard her soul rending screams before she fell into a silent, charred mass.

Tears leaked from his eyes, emotions flashed through him as he pondered the state of his mother. He approached her crumpled form slowly, oblivious to the stranger that caused…this. Thoughts only on his mother, and the thunderous silence coming from her.

He reached out a tiny hand toward her warped figure, her skin charred and hot to the touch. It lasted only a moment before it began to crumple to ash.

It may have been the smell. It may have been the sight. It may have been the sigh of repressed anger from the stranger that brought Hadrian back to the present. The man took a moment to compose himself, adjust his robes and harden his gaze.

"I did not wish to do that child. Even for a 'Mudblood' she had so much potential. Truly a waste. Only you children need to have died tonight. A sacrifice for the betterment of our world. Even the Old Fool could attest to this." The stranger sighed again, almost disappointed.

"But, that is life. How fortunate for you that you need not live in fear, or pain of loss. Although I intended it to be you and your sister, I would have granted you solace by joining them in the hereafter." Hadrian looked up from the dust that was his mother toward the stranger. The brown polished length of wood that caused his mother to be gone— no to die.

Hadrian cast a tear-filled glance to the stairs where his younger sister began to cry. His moment of worry interrupted by the scary, strange man.

"I Lord Voldemort, am benevolent. Join your parents, and be at peace. Worry not, your sister will follow soon after." With another unintelligible word that familiar beautiful green light began to shine again, before suddenly disappearing.

And remembering a broken wand does no magic; he knew what he had to do. With a wave of his hand the 'Lord Voldemort's' wand was bisected.

Lord Voldemort looked at his wand in horror, what was once his wand now was a severed half of a wand. The silence broken by the sound of the other half hitting the floor.

"You insolent welp! What have you done?!"

And the dam broke. He was mad.

His mother was gone, and his father could not help him. His sister cried in the back ground the spell which blocked out noise apparently gone. He wouldn't get hugs, or bed time stories, he wouldn't get the cupcakes his father would take him out to get. His parents always told him not to be mad. To be a good boy. He knew he could do magic, not just because his parents had magic, but because he had been mad before. He didn't really remember what it was, something Uncle Padfoot did to his favorite stuffed animal, or maybe when Uncle Moony took the last cupcake. But he remembered being mad. He remembered the room shaking, and things breaking. But mostly he remembered his mother's face as she held his sister protectively. When he saw her scared he forgot what made him so mad. He remembered the hug, and the soothing noises she made but not what caused it.

"A Big-brother must always look after his sister. Even if she doesn't want him to. It's his job for life." Her words were a gentle memory. A memory and nothing more.

Because they were gone, and this Lord Voldemort was the cause.

Voldemort's rage was quickly stimmed as he noted with keen interest the child's green eyes now shown with unbridled power. The power welled up within the boy, it wasn't anywhere near his, let alone a simple recent magical graduate. But still enough to give him pause.

The smell of ozone was starting to permeate the air.

"Interesting, how members of your whole family would fight to the last. Had you shown such potential before…but perhaps another time, another place." Pointing an open palm at the child he intoned the same incantation again. A ball of green power emerged from his palm before rocketing towards the child, only to splash harmlessly against him.

"Wha-?" Before he could even complete the thought the child was on him; his tiny, deceptively strong hands latching onto his head. With a half shout the Dark Lord was silenced and tumbled to the floor. The boy's voiceless scream of rage hushing the silent gasp of confusion.

They stayed locked together for moments, before exploding away from each other in a violent surge of magic. The boy hurdling into a nearby wall landing next to his father. Lord Voldemort though, may not have been so lucky. His body was rent apart with arcs of magical damage. As if unable to hold his own soul in his shell he seemed to disperse in a final explosion that brought half the roof off the house. Hadrian Potter saw a faded wraith ascending heavenward as his sister's crib slipped down the through the hole created in the ceiling.

The wraith passed through his sister seemingly without any visible effect, before gravity's hold became too much and pulled the crib plummeted to the first floor. With a staggered wave of his hand, Hadrian arrested his sister's fall allowing the crib to shatter on the floor. Hadrian's vision swam and darkened as his control wavered and she landed on a clear area of the floor between him and the wreckage of the now departed 'Lord Voldemort'. Before Trillium could begin crying, her brother attempted to use his magic to start her broken mobile. As if sensing her brother's efforts, a calmer girl supplemented his magic with her own. The soft tinkling of the mobile sounded throughout the terribly tranquil night accompanied with the amused giggled of an innocent child.

Magically drained, and having been woken up far past his bed time, Hadrian Potter lost the last grasps of his consciousness.

The last conscious thoughts of the young man, was wondering if he should have just stayed in bed.

AN: I will try not to put in Authors notes for the rest of this story. I'll address reviews and comments (Should I get any) on a separate entry. To keep the word-count accurate.