Childhood

From an early age Harry's parents had ignored him in favor of their social duties as Lord and Lady Potter. Then later in favor of his younger twin, John Potter, and his other siblings. The Boy-Who-Lived. It had been the Minister of Magic herself who had declared it so. A load of crock. But sadly for Hadrian, it seemed, everyone believed it to be true. That John Potter had killed the Darklord.

Hadrian was what he would later discover was an Occlumancer. Someone born with stage 3 or higher Occlumancy. As such, if he saw it and he cared to, he could store it in a manner that would allow for perfect recall.

The Potter House-elf Posey, had taught Harry to read, at the age of four. Human-elflings didn't clean like her, she had told him gently, when like any good child, Hadrian had tried copying the only mother he had known in her daily activities. So, rather than go against his mother's guidance, Harry had in an effort to impress her, become a voracious reader. And it was to his delight that Posey was proud of him. If there was one thing that Hadrian had learned, that the two things that were his in the world, were his Magic and his Mother. For surely he thought, there were none so fortunate as he, Hadian Potter elfling of Posey the Elf.

Hadrian remembered standing in the nursery terrified, watching as the cloaked man murdered Posey with a flash of grey light. What he would later understand to be a piercing hex slicing into her abdomen as she toppled over, falling into Hadrian's arms. Hadrian remembered every moment of that night perfectly for it had been Posey who had raised him. She had first spoken to him in the language of the Elves, making him laugh with cantrips and other sparkles of magic. She had treated him as her own. As his Amilessë, lying on her deathbed as her blood leaked slowly of her, the smell of pine cones, and wild magic filling the air, looked up at him, she raised her hand, dipping it in her blood and marked Hadrian on his brow with a single rune, Sowilo, the rune of power, the rune of magic, the rune of victory pushing her remaining life and magic into the mark, even as the magic that sustained her failed, and she disappeared, a pile of leaves all that he had left of his mother. The blood on his brow burning bright, as it faded into a thin scar. A lightning bolt.

Little Hadrian trembled, his Mother gone, a simple casualty of attempted infantcide of a brother who had everything he did not, he reached for the one thing that he had that was still his, and in his anger, he unleashed it, feeling the caress of his Amilessë's magic as he did so. That small spark of herself that was all that he had left of her, and indeed all that she had given him besides memories.

Voldemort had been staring at the younger Potter son, John, when he began to smell ozone, and felt more than heard the crackling of energy. His eyes narrowing, he whirled around in time to see the eldest Potter child, standing there, leaves rustling around his feet, even as his eyes glowed electric blue, lightning coursing through them, leaping across his fingertips, and flickering down his tears. The Dark Lord never had time to do anything, his final moments, grim realization, even as he began swishing his wand to cut down the unnatural boy. But, his time was out, the boy's magic exploded, the room fading away for the Dark Lord, blasting the child back even as it worked at destroying Lord Voldemort's body.

The eldest Potter child flew backwards and crashed into the closet where he lay there blood trickling from his nose and eyes, the rune that his mother had placed on his forehead glowing softly in the shape of a lightning bolt. The rune that Hadrian would one day discover meant "The guide leads you to the doorway, then waits for your return."

The Potters had rushed home, and fussed over little John, The aurors and Minister having arrived for once in their lives faster than civilians to the location of a major magical event. The Potters never thinking to check or even enquire over the fact that their house now had one less house elf, or the condition of their eldest child. To whom the healers had to work extensively to save.

Over the years, Hadrian grew, reading more and more, exercising, feeding, growing the spark of magic that was all that he had left of his Amilessë, till it went from being a drop, to being an lake. He worked hard. Knowing somewhere inside himself, that there was no one left to help him do what he was always meant to.

Hadrian devoured knowledge, not just about magic, but about things that would let him fulfil his goals, seeking and learning like a starving man would food. Magic he realized was passed father to son, but he had no father. His own had most likely never even entered the Potter library.

The library was in reality a small 18 foot by 18 foot room filled on every wall with books. Books that were far beyond the understanding of most wizards, the rooms center-piece, a single desk and a chair. On the desk sat a pensive, with the memories of 20 generations of potters, and the Magics that they witnessed and wielded in it.

He took his ancestors offered memories, it seemed that there were ways to learn all of the magic that someone knew via pensive, though, it was not without danger to the mind, he had time, and went at what he thought was a slow pace. But Hadrian was prepared, knowledge was not skill, it was only information, and that, Hadrian was plenty prepared for.

By the age of eleven, when he first went to Hogwarts, he was already far beyond the normal curriculum, but more than that, he had realized why purebloods were so elitist. All of the arcane Magic, understanding of the bigger picture that they had attained over generations of Magic users, it made them realize the truth.

Magik had only one true rule, that it had no rules. Wizards however learned a different set altogether. They learned what can be done, what can not be done, what might be done, and what should not be done.

In the shelves of the Potter Library, Hadrian was exposed to things that the Potters of old had discovered, things that were not known to the common wizard, things that the common wizard did not want to know in the first place. Unspeakable things.

It was in this way that Hadrian ended up learning Magic backwards, he did his first ritual in the wine cellar of the Potter house at the age of 8 years, 8 months, 8 days, 8 hours old. The ritual gave him the ability to channel more of his magic than he was supposed to be able to until he was 17.

No matter what magic he practiced, he made sure it was always in keeping to the creed of his ancestors, the difference of what could be done and what should be done.

Hadrian's journey carried on, he went to Hogwarts, was sorted into Ravenclaw. Scouring the school for any and all the knowledge he could find. He was surprised by the pathetic level that his classmates were at. None of them had even heard of rituals, glyphs, sigils, the like, though he quickly realized why.

They had never even known such magic was possible, to the average witch or wizard, such esoteric and arcane knowledge had no purpose, why seek after things that might one day seek back, Hadrian supposed it made a good deal of sense. But for Hadrian, it was all he knew, and he was determined to keep learning.

The Tomb of the Hunter

Hadrian stood atop a hill, looking through the Irish highlands, the remains of an ancient norse stronghold. It had been simple enough for him to simply slip away during the Hogsmead weekend. He had apparated himself to where a tome had hinted the tomb of the Norse king Gudrød the Hunter lay.
Gudrød the Hunter was a much unknown figure amongst muggles and wizards alike, because of who his first wife was. Gudrød's first wife was Alfhild, a daughter of Alfarin, the king of Álfheimr. And while, Hadrian's ancestors had discovered much of this history, including the tomb's location, Hadrian was the first to stumble across even a hint of what could lie inside the tomb.

Striding down the hill he had perched himself upon, Hadrian made his way towards an undescript stone. It had a layer of moss that covered its entire surface. But the way it was positioned hinted to Hadrian its true nature.
Placing his hand on the stone, Hadrian cast a nonverbal cleaning and repairing charm on the stone, watching in satisfaction as the old granite was restored to pristine condition. The runes in High Elvish, and Old Futhark becoming visible to the naked eye.
Strangely enough there was little to keep people out. Mostly to keep things in. Narrowing his eyes, Hadrian drew his wand, and moved the stone, revealing the passageway that lay beyond.

He strode forward, noting that the stone slid back into place sealing the cavern. His path committed for him, Hadrian strode forward the passage was disturbingly long, atypical to most norse burial grounds. Hadrian's first indication that the was in the right place.

Lining the walls were corpses. Still and unmoving, laying in burial niches along the passageway. The torches lining the walls ignited with an unholy blue fire as he approached them, illuminating the area in front of him and behind him in their pale blue light. Hadrian, was using his mage sight, to see what could not be seen, grimacing as he realized that every single one of the dead bodies was connected by a thin line of neon green gossamer.

Hadrian grimaced perhaps he should have mentioned to someone his plan afterall. Striding forward, he walked into the main chamber, There were guards slumped all along the wall as if a large contingency had been buried in full regalia with the long deceased king. Striding forward, Hadrian noted there were only four chests, lying on each side of the raised dias.
Hadrian again activated his magesight, nearly one hundred neon green gossamer strands all connected to whatever was inside of the norse style casket. Stepping back, Hadrian cast his sigil of Mage Armor, a rotating circle of sacred geometry blossoming into existence over his left hand. He pulled his wand up his arm and the sigil shrunk into a bracelet like loop of orange runes, glowing with dim eldritch light. Repeating the process, and casting several more spells on himself, feeling suitably prepared, Hadrian looked back towards the four crates.

Walking forward, Hadrian flicked his wand, cast a banisher at the coffin sending it flying, leaped onto the three foot tall raised dias and in the same motion, summoned the four crates too him, with a flick shrinking them and placing them in one of the expanded extra dimensional pockets that he had inside of his cloak. He only had a split second of warning as his precognition warned him of the deadly blades flying through the air at his face. Spinning around, he cast the Sigil of Arnoch, a blue shield made up of interlocking squares of magic, materialized in front of his left hand, the blades sparking against the powerful sigil turning the projectiles into slag.

In an elegant flourish, Hadrian cast a flame based cutter at the draugr that had just attacked him, not pausing to watch it collapse, he began a more powerful counter measure. The small army of draugr lining the room charged.

"Ignis Tempestas." His voice echoed through the silence of the chamber like a thunderclap. The swarms of Draugr burning like kindling in the face of Hadrian's firestorm.

"Isstorm av Jötunn", a fell voice rasped and with a pulse of magic, Hadrian's firestorm was blown away, from the inside out, by an unnatural cold, a cold so mighty that in its presence the flame itself simply ceased to be, plunging the room into darkness. Casting a Lumos Solem at the ceiling, Hadrian took stock of the room. Everything had been swept up in the fire, The Draugr in the room were for the most part destroyed, only three remaining.

One standing tall, with fine cloth that was torn and moth eaten, was one who could only be Gudrød the Hunter. By his side what was clearly a priest of some kind, the staff in his hand showing that much and a Draugr[1] with a sword that sparked blue in the dying light of his fire.

Gritting his teeth, Hadrian cast a fire lance, a bolt of pure fire lancing towards his foes. The beam of destructive force was caught by the shield of the foe blasting him back in the resulting explosion. Hadrian lifted his left hand and the sigil floating in front of his splayed fingers to meet the shower of foot long ice spikes sent his way. The ice spikes slammed into the shield, hissing as they were vaporized.

Leaping through the steam that the ice spikes' collision had created, Hadrian slammed his hand down like a hammer.
"Ictus Fulumine!" There was a roar, as a visible blast pulsed through the cavern, a massive bolt of lightning arcing through the air as it slammed into the three draugr. The lightnings afterimage stayed a moment, even with his mage armor glowing across his entire body as it protected him from the sonic and light damage he would have faced from being so close to such a powerful spell. There were two kinds of elemental Magic, summoned magical elemental spells, which was in nearly every case a pale comparison to the true power of nature, and true elemental magic, which was the power of the act itself, not a crude, abit still mighty shadow of it.

When everything dimmed from his use of true lightning, Hadrian saw that the form of Gudrød the Hunter was like his two companions turning to dust.

Striding over to the drowned corpse, Hadrian saw all that remained were the artifacts that he had hoped would be here in the first place. A sword, a tattered book, and a pendant. To be clear, He had no idea what the artifacts could be, but remnants of the olde world were few and far between, any remnant of them was priceless. Three whole artifacts were unprecedented.

Reaching down, He picked up the sword, gritting his teeth as he felt electricity course through his form, analyzing him, before settling. The sword was still a bit uncomfortable to hold. To his shock, the sword began shrinking, settling in the shape of a wand. A metal, 11 inch long wand, made of a blue metal, with glowing blue and gold runes lining it's handles. Collecting whatever he could, Hadrian quickly made his way out of the chamber.

His senses screamed at him, as he leaned back impossibly narrowly avoiding decapitation. The new wand in his hand thrummed with power. Drums beat in his ears. Without awareness of the spell he was casting, he raised his wand.
"Kjede av yggdrasil" Hadrian found himself intoning. Like the roots of a great tree, arcs of pale magic flitted from his new wand, hitting the Draugr who had tried to decapitate him first, and branching from there. In an instant it was over, only charred husks remained of the undead that had once littered the expanse of the tunnel. Hadrian watched in awe, the old norse spell was one that had never worked for him before, with the amount of magic that he had been throwing around, he was shocked that he was still standing.

Walking carefully, he headed towards the light. 'Yes' he thought, it would be best to leave this place at once.

Back to Hogwarts

With a crack, Hadrian apparated into an alley around Hogsmeade, the whole excursion had only taken four hours, and the students of Hogwarts were just now preparing to go back to school. He saw the platinum blonde hair of Daphne Greengrass, and ran to catch up with her.

"Daphne! Wait up!" He shouted more 'out of breath' due to the insane amount of magic he had just burned through before he apparated back to hogsmeade than due to running a few feet.

"Hadrian!" She exclaimed whirling around. "Where have you been this entire time. I was looking for you everywhere!" She growled out, her frustration evident.

"Here and there" Hadrian responded with a wink. Daphne sighed with exacerbation . She had long since given up trying to weasel his secrets out of him, though they were childhood friends.

"Hadrian." she ground out."With the Dementors here at Hogwarts and the chamber being open, being out by yourself is not safe. You know I worry about you when you disappear without any hint of where you have gone." His blonde friend finished her rant with a huff, her arms crossed across her chest.

Hadrian threw his arm around her shoulders and maneuvered her to his side. Daphne's face twisted in shock at the overly familiar action. Hadrian was not a very touchy person, or a very open person. If Daphne was honest with herself, she would say that she most certainly did not mind the action nor the feeling that came with being so close to the eldest Potter.

They had known each other since childhood. As the Potters were not good parents even in the loosest of terms, they had often left Hadrian alone to his own devices. One such occasion was when the two were eight and the Potters had been invited as a family to the Black manor - where Sirius Black had thrown a party. What was unknown to most of the Wizarding World, was that Daphne Orphelia Greengrass was in fact the niece of one Sirius Orion Black, from his brother Regulus Black.

The story went that after betraying the Dark Lord, Regulus had immediately run to his elder brother. And rather than be a prick like most would have expected, Sirius proceeded to take the issue to Artucus. Well, one thing lead to another, and Regulus "died" in an accident. No-one asked a single question because Lord Black willed it so and life moved on until everyone forgot about Regulus in the first place. Daphne's mother was of good pureblood status, and the Greengrass family was well known for being from a predominantly neutral family. This meant that Artucus wholeheartedly approved of the union of His son to the Greengrass daughter.

Thus Regulus Black married Ophelia Greengrass and had Queenie, Daphne, and Astoria Greengrass. Yes they were legitimate, no one who was anyone doubted who they were when they saw Artucus embrace his granddaughters, but no one for a second was under the delusion that poking at that sleeping dragon was a good choice.
So one day, when Hadrian was stuck at his godfather's place just like her, she had been wandering around her uncle's property and had stumbled across Hadrian, sitting in the Black library devouring a book, and immediately insisted that he explain everything about the book that he was reading to her. They had become fast friends, but she always suspected there was more of a story involving Hadrian's family than he shared with her, but she never asked, and he never told.

Daphne was brought out of her thoughts by Hadrian stepping away from her to stand in front of her. She looked around, shaking off the last of her musings of their childhood and friendship.

They had reached Hogwarts, and they were at the place the two would go their separate ways.
"A lot on your mind?" Hadrian asked with a grin.
"More than what's in yours." Daphne sent back with a grin.

"See you in the library after dinner?" Hadrian sent back.
"Don't be late Mr. Potter." She said in a rather eerie impression of their transfiguration professor.

Hadrian shivered.

The daily grind resumed Defense, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, Runes, and Arithmancy. Homework and practicals far below his skill level. But he was content with being 4th in his year consistently. First second and third in the year got too much attention. He was in school for the experience, to make connections, to use the Hogwarts library, not really to learn the curriculum.

At the moment, Hadrian found himself meditating in his room. He floated 15 inches off of his bed, his magic flowing through him, and the area surrounding him, the wand he had acquired in Gudrød the Hunter's tomb.

While he was meditating, he could see flickers of the future, flickers of things he missed, could connect with his magic, and strengthen his connection between his magic and his mind. Right now however he was trying to understand the object he had acquired. To say it had power was like saying a lightning bolt was a spark of energy. True in a sense, but in every way that mattered, false on so many levels. The wand hummed with power in his hands, but Hadrian dared not attempt its use while on Hogwarts' property. He

The text he had recovered from the tomb of Gudrød the hunter, was a book on Ancient Norse Magick, more specifically asgardian magic. Hadrian felt a pulse of fear when he realized what the tome he held in his hands was. He knew without a doubt there were fewer wizards alive who would leave him alive with such a treasure than whom would see him dead for having it. It was priceless. It had inside of it, several notes on Álfeimr, Asgard, the other nine realms, in it were the locations of four entrances to Álfheimr, as well as a long passage about the sword he had acquired.

The Elvish sword had been crafted for the Asguardian God of thunder himself; Thor. The text had written that the god Thor had wielded it in his childhood, Mjolnir being gifted to him by the Allfather after he had lost the sword in a skirmish on one of the planets he had done battle on, the powerful weapon's nature not fitting with Thor's own. The Elves recovered it years later, but its powers were greatly diminished by its from the Thunderer, it was given as part of the dowry to Gudrød the Hunter upon his marriage to the Elf King's daughter.

The sword had many powers if the script was indeed true. The book in the pages on Elvish weapons, detailed the ways to bond to Elvish forged weapons, and the ritual that needed to be followed. Hadrian, wou'd see it done as soon as possible. It would prevent any who tried to claim the weapon from doing so, including his own family.

That left only the pendant, for all of the books helpfulness, it was mysteriously absent of any reference to what the pendant might be, or where it might have come from. It would require more research he decided. Settling down on the bed, he stretched, feeling the pulse of his magic, the hum it made as the very air itself was charged by its latent presence.

Standing up, he readied himself for class, and left the dormitory, closing the door to his private room silently.

Hadrian strode into the great hall, for dinner, his black cloak flowing like water around him, he approached the ravenclaw table, and sat in his normal seat. He glanced over to the Slytherin table, Daphne was missing. It was not unusual for the girl to skip a meal or two, but it was unusual for her to miss class one day, and both meals on the same day.

The mysterious Heir of Slytherin had struck first before winter break, and the ministry had seen fit to send a contingent of dementors to find and destroy the culprit behind the petrifications. They had as daphne had mentioned, soured the normally wonderous atmosphere of Hogwarts with their presence.

He headed to the Charms classroom, for the diminutive professor's office hours. Noting that it was nearly five pm, and as he slipped into the still empty classroom. The Charms Professor was pacing back and forth on his rather large desk. Hadrian eyed the diminutive half-goblin man up and down, his eyes narrowing slightly and the nervousness the ex international duelling champion was showing.

"Good evening professor," Hadran began.
"Ah, Hadrian, Good evening." The Charms Master greeted startled out of his thoughts.

"Is something troubling you professor?" The professor seemed to be deep in thought.

"Oh no Mister Potter, nothing to be done I suppose." At this Hadrian's eyes widened, the only indication of Hadrian's true feelings on the diminutive professors statement. His magic screaming at him to take action as the latent mage shield he had tied to a pendant he had gifted Daphne activated.

"Professor, suddenly Im feeling quite ill. Have not slept much recently, I know that today we were going to work on perfecting the vanishing charm" Hadrian drew his wand, and vanished the contents of the dustbin that was leaning on the side of Flitwick's desk.

"Excellent Hadrian! Simply excellent! Marvellously done, yes now I think you are looking a bit pale, best you go off and rest. The spell was performed perfectly" Flitwick positively glowed with pride. Taking the opportunity, Hadrian made his way out of the door, and immediately drew his Holly wand, poorly matched though it might feel compared to the artifact he recently acquired.

Hadrian had learned about the weapon that had saved his life; it was called Eldingergaffli, meaning sky splitter, an abbreviated name Eldingr written on the blade.

"Appare vestigium" Hadrian enchanted simultaneously activating his mage sight. The world swirling as he saw a nearly blinding amount of magic, a variety of colors, tracing back the gossamer thread of magic that lead him to where his magic was flowing to keep the mage armor activated. Footsteps crisscrossing across the hall nearly blinding. The gossamer thread shining brighter as he focused on the trace of his power that he had left in her charmed necklace. The second he found it, he ignored all of the other lights, and took off after the clear magical trace he could see

Hadrian ran and ran, blowing by several teachers, ignoring their indignant shrieks, and the shouts of "Detention Potter!" that echoed through the halls. He found himself outside, his sole objective of tracing the thread before it, and Daphne, went dead filling him with power.
He ran through the snow covered forest no trail to guide him, trees blurring by him, leaping through ice covered bushes, with little regard to his own condition, he would be fine. Hadrian did not worry about where he was going, magic was his guide, and it led him right to a clearing, then it pulsed. Hadrian knew that Daphne was ahead.

Breathing in, he clicked his wrists together, activating his sigils, he had not used them since the tomb of Gudrød the Hunter, but he had used his time since then wisely, performing several other rituals, ones that would give him an edge in a fight, an edge he had lacked against the draugr.

Durability, physical strength, stamina, speed, all essentials, things he had to have, if he was to survive what his magic hinted might be in his future. The truth was that no matter how well the tomb had gone for him, he should have lost, and he would have, if it had not been for Eldingr.

By now darkness was setting in, and with a flick of his holly wand, transfiguring his school robes into battle robes, Hadrian stepped through the brush surrounding the clearing his magic had lead him to. Hadrian's eyes glowed eldritch green with his magic, a green that was reminiscent to the old power of his Amilessë.

The clearing was large, several hundred feet wide, with perfectly circular frozen lake, the trees loomed impossibly high, far older than most of the trees in the forest. Lying in the center of the clearing, suspended by blue ropes was Daphne. The mage armor, he had enchanted her pendant with covering her a glittering web of runes. Her eyes widened comically as she saw him enter the clearing.

"Daphne, please don't be dead." Hadrian murmured to himself.

"Ah welcome Hadrian." The cloaked figure said with a sinister voice.
" It seems you have me at a disadvantage, you know my name, but I do not know yours."

" Perhaps you know me by my moniker, Heir of Slytherin" the cloaked man's smirk could be heard in his voice, as Hadrian's eyes widened with realization.

"So you are real then." Hadrian said, his eyes becoming hard.

"In the flesh" the man bowed.

"So Heir of Slytherin, do you have a name?" Harry asked.
"You may call me Tom." The man turned around revealing the face of Tobias Flint. Elder brother of Marcus Flint. Heir of the House of Flint. Huh, not who Hadrian had expected.

"I don't suppose you are going to let me take Daphne?" Tob as Hadrian decided he would call the possessed Tobias, grinned as he pulled out his wand.

"Take her! No no no, you Hadrian are going to join her." He grinned madly, showing far too many teeth to be considered sane. Hadrian's foresight screamed at him even as he swished his wand in a circle over his head, the ropes that were flying through the deepening shadows lighting on fire and turning to ashes, as they came in contact with the shimmering red shield that Hadrian had erected.

"Conc Flammae" Hadrain murmured as he made small circles with his wand as he thrust it towards the kidnapper of his friend. Crimson ribbons blossomed from his wand spiraling in a cone. Even as Tom froze the flames with a flick, Hadrian was already casting again. Ice spike after ice spike slammed into the possessed Tobias's shield the first two cracking it and the third slipping through the hole the last two had created, slamming into Tom's shoulder, eliciting a shriek from the heir.

Leaping forward, Hadrian ran towards Tom, closing the thirty feet between them in just a handful of breaths thanks to his ritually improved speed. Grimacing through the pain from the dagger size ice that had been imbedded in his shoulder, Tom seeing Hadrian charge him, fired a series of wide angle bombarding hexes.

Hadrian leaped over two, rolled under the other, and got hit right in the chest with the fourth. He grunted, as his Mage armor flared up, lighting his form up with a lattice of runes as he went flying backwards rolling several times before coming to a stop at the foot of a tree. Springing to his feet, he noticed to his dismay his wand lying between Tom and where he had been blasted back to as he was forced to dodge several piercing curses directed at him.

Suddenly his heightened awareness noticed the smell of ozone, realizing what Tom was about to do, Hadrian knew he was not fast enough to stop it.

"Fulminis Maxima" Tom shouted.

Time seemed to slow as a bolt of lightning erupted from Tom's wand, Hadrian's hand clasped the artifact necklace that he had gotten from the tomb of Gudrød. The lightning had already cleared the distance between them, when suddenly as his fingers closed around the pendant, everything stopped the only difference in the world a noticeable chill, and the way everything looked like it was covered in ice.

It took Hadrian a minute to realize that time had stopped, the whole world fell away into glacial tones, only the pendant and himself remained in their normal and comparatively vibrant colors. Reaching down into his robes, he pulled out Eldingr, releasing the pendant as he thrust the wand out towards where the lightning was coming from, the ice disappearing the moment he released the powerful pendant.
What followed was a roar, though Hadrian had little idea who or what from, as the lightning was deflected to the sides by the artifact. Then the sonic boom hit. His and Daphne's Mage Armor spells protecting them from damage that would have done, Tom on the other hand was flung backwards as the displaced air rushed outwards with a crack that must have burst his eardrums, but he seemed otherwise unharmed. There was a reason why all but the most powerful magi never attempted true elemental attacks.

The clearing was a wreck, the ground scorched, trees literally split in the sonic aftermath of the spell. Hadrian was sure that it had been heard for hundreds of miles. Capitalizing his enemies moment of confusion, Hadrian cast his own series of blasting, and binding curses on the man, intending to hold the man while he freed Daphne. While he ran over to the altar where Daphne was suspended. Flicking his wrist, he cut her down and pulled her into a hug. Flicking his wand again, Hadrian removed the silencing curse from his friend. And snapped off a calming charm to try and keep her calm.

"Ha-ha-hadrian" she sobbed into his chest. "Do you hear that?"
"No- wait. Oh gods. Daph, let's finish this and get you out of here." Hadrian responded, his eyes scanning the area until he found tom, sitting his wrist slit, a circle of blood around him, runes drawn hastily into the snow covered ground around him.

"He-he took my blood!" She gasped out between sobs. Hadrian's expression became thunderous.

"Tobias what are you doing, stop this!" Hadrian thundered. Summoning his Holly wand to his hand, and handing it to Daphne. He had Eldingr, best if she was armed too.

"You, how dare you. You have ruined everything, a third year brat! There are mysteries that my teacher Herpo taught me that will reveal why I am the greatest Wizard on the Earth" Cackling madly at his apparent genius, he moved, stepping backwards, he began chanting, flicking his wand a bound girl flew through the forest. He could tell by the way the magic moved, she was a Muggle.

There was a molment of silence then a -slllliiiiiiiiccccccccccckkcchhh has Tom sliced her throat before Hadrian could do anything. The very air pulsed with darkness, the shadows grew longer, and to Hadrian's horror, the teen's voice was soon joined in his chanting by others. He had seen something like this, one of the Potter memories. This was Anathema, this was Unspeakable, whatever Tom was about to summon, it was going to be bad.

Thinking fast, Hadrian swished his wand and sent spell after spell at the teen, trying to end this fast. Every one of the spells Hadrian sent at the teen went veering off to the sides, as if Tom wasn't even in the same dimension as Hadrian's spells anymore. Hadrian had read about the language of the lower planes, but he had never heard of any who had dared utter even a single word of the fel language.

/Öö tamyn guravdagch ongotsny ezen, Oh lord of the third plane of hell,/ The blood Tom had smeared into a circle from that poor muggle girl sharpened and moved, forming clear glyphs suspended in the air. The meaning of the demonic flowing into Hadrians consciousness like honey, insidious, and evil honey, but sticky and sweet all the same.

Hadrian tried recalling spells to fight any of the planar creatures with, or even disrupt the summoning of one. There had been only one warning, to disrupt the ritual would be to disrupt the veil between the planes, and a tear, especially unstable is why this kind of magic was deemed Unspeakable, the mention of it to one who doesn't know a death sentence.

/ bi chamaig ene ongotsond tavtai morilno uu, I welcome you to this plane,/ The glyphs began to glow.

/ tand taalagdakh khümüüstei uulzakh gej baina, to feast upon my enemies./ He could feel Daphane shiver next to him as she realized that this most certainly meant them.

/bi chamd gashuudlyn ezen, I summon thee oh lord of sorrow,/ Suddenly Hadrian had an even worse feeling about what this Tom, so called Heir of Slytherin was summoning.

He and Daphne slowly raised their eyes upwards and looked at the night sky in horror as even the moon went blood red in an instant, and an unnatural chill gripped the air. Dementors.

Grabbing Daphne's hand he tucked Eldingr between their clasped hands and grasped his pendant, slowing time down around them the air gaining a hint of chill as he began quickly murmuring under his breath.

"I aigída tou myaloú tis athinás" A grey band of greek runes wound its way around their foreheads. "O yperaspistís tou orthologismoú" Daphne looked at him again in surprise, as a gold sigil appeared on the silver band of runes. She felt a wave of calm. Hadrian was straining, Casting an unprepared Sigil was far more exhausting than nearly any other kind of magic on the mind. He had just cast three.
Hadrian could see time starting to return to normal as the world began slowly defrosting, and forced out one final spell "anima clypeus". As his vision swam and blood filled his mouth and dripped from his nose as time returned to normal.

If nothing else, Hadrian knew his limits, the strain that the artifact put on his mind, doubled with every spell he used pushed him closer to them than any thing he had done in a long time, he would be alright in a few minutes. Performing the Sigils on another person was nearly too much for him. He only had time to place the three that Every Potter had placed in the pensive. It was considered the first of the ancient Magik spells to learn for a good reason.

Three spells that were required before you could even see Unspeakable texts, or the Scrolls of Maledictus. They were apparently different spells in different languages, but as Hadrian's family stemmed from Rome, and the Romans often had Greek spells, the three he had cast were The Aegis of Athena, a sigil that would prevent your mind from cracking, the second part of the sigil, was the Seal of Rationality, a Seal that would stop you from going instantly insane at what you were witnessing, and finally the Soul shield, which prevents any foreign entity from instantly stealing your soul from your body.

The measures were far from perfect, you could still be stabbed through the chest, or have your heart or brain summoned out of you if something was sufficiently powerful and determined. But it would at least give Daphne a chance to see what killed her. Shaking his mind clear Hadrian looked up, spitting the blood out in time to see Tom finish the incantation.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai. Gorzoth the Frightful./ Tom shouted.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai. Gorzoth the Frightful./ The Dementors rejoiced.

Suddenly with the sound of breaking glass, the mirror like lake cracked, and then exploded upwards. Out bursting a monstrosity that even with the protections in place would haunt Hadrian and Daphne for years to come.

/Gorzotyn zovlong aimshigtai. Gorzoth the Frightful/ The Demon cried.

Standing nine feet tall. The demon's skeletal body was covered in thin white shimmering skin. Each one of its ribs was visible, far too many for it to be mistaken for a human, it was cloaked in simple black shadows, in this way it was very similar to a dementor, but what made Gorzoth so frightful was its face. Nearly double the size of a human skull, Gorzoth's mouth of razor teeth grinned perpetually, stretching from one ear to the other, his eyes glowing red, and his nose pinched and small. The hair on his head was matted.

"Welcome great Gorzoth for the first time in several thousand years back to earth." Tom never finished his sentence, as the dementors behind him swooped in and forced Tom to his knees.
"N-No. Y-You can't I am yo-yoouuurr summoner! Stop! Noooo! AaaAggh" The demon's attention seemed focused on Tom, so Hadrian made his move, grabbing Daphne by the waist, he spun as he tried to apparate out of the forest. There was a deafening crack and Hadrian suddenly found himself and Daphne collapsing several hundred yards away, on top of a hill at the far edge of the clearing.

I will be with you in just a moment younglings. The demon's voice echoed seemingly right behind their ears at all time. It had still not turned to face them. Daphne nearly screamed in terror. Sometimes not going insane, was its own punishment.

Standing up, Hadrian looked around, realizing how close they were to the dementors, he held firmly onto Daphne and began a chant of his own. His words a whisper lost in the screams that Tom was making loud even from this distance, as the demon he foolishly summoned tortured him. Daphne looked at him in wonder as she felt the power of Eldingr flare.
"Ég bið þig þrumur og eldingar Því að ég er herra eldingarinnar. Mig verja." Clouds began to gather in the sky. The dementors flying through them rushing down towards the clearing.

"Ég bið þig þrumur og eldingar Því að ég er herra eldingarinnar. Mig verja." The first rumble of thunder, a deep angry sound. One that was felt in the heart rather than heard in the ears.

"Ég bið þig þrumur og eldingar Því að ég er herra eldingarinnar. Mig verja." Silence. Even Tom's screaming stopped. Everything, all of nature waited for the archaic magik that Hadrian had just enacted. A pact with an element. The demon's head snapped up to the sky, and it seemed to glare at the sky in what could only be described as wariness.

Suddenly Gorzoth's head snapped towards Hadrian along with the three hundred dementors in the clearing and sky, all suddenly focused on the two small children. The chill was heartstopping. He heard Daphne whimper the closer they got, and felt the feeling of loneliness well up inside of him.

"Mig verja" Hadrian incanted one final time, concurrent to every one of the dementors began dive bombing at him.

The sky obeyed, opening up, the thrum of power itself so great that any with magic and on the isles could understand that something momentous had just been achieved.

As if the holy host itself was descending, bolt after bolt of lightning began to rain down on the host of dementors. Every strike turning the demons to ash. Every bolt arcing through the air with unerring accuracy as it immolated entire groups of dementors in its power. Hadrian stood on the ground, his wand swirling like a conductor as the sky itself bent to his will.

The demon screeched seeming to realize that it personally seeing to Tom's suffering was costing it its followers. Abandoning that task, it spun, turning towards Hadrian. Gorzoth fired a bolt of magic at the duo. Daphne recognized the thread and acted as fast as she could, summoning a log from one of the fallen trees in the bath of the spell. Which burned a whole through the tree but lacked the energy to move on past it.

By this point, Hadrian looked more like a God of Antiquity, then a third year student, a halo of lightning surrounding his head, his wand flickering this way and that, spelling doom for any who entered his sight.

Focused as he was on the threat of the dementors, Hadrian failed to realize the struggle Daphne was having with the Demon of the Third Circle, as she banished log after log at the Demon, watching as it irreverently batted aside her attacks.

Daphne stared helplessly at the demon which seemingly done with the game, stepped into the air as sure as solid ground, and flew towards her its 7 inch long fingers, reaching out menacingly.

Suddenly, a ball of fire exploded in front of her, revealing a six foot tall, silver haired, and silver bearded old man. His gnarled fingers wrapped around his even more gnarled wand. Standing in front of her stood Albus Dumbledore. The venerable Headmaster's eyes crackled like Hadrian's lightning, as he raised his wand above his head.
"Malleo sanctus" He bellowed bringing his hand down in a fierce movement. His wand and hand movements echoing that of a hammer as the demon was slammed back to the ground so hard that its body cracked the earth.

"Two Third Year students now witness to the Unspeakable. What a mess." The headmaster lacked any and all of his normal cheer. His eyes were chips of diamond, glowing with an inner power that held you transfixed at their sight.

"You have done excellent my dear, but if you would allow me." Dumbledore addressed Daphne quietly. Firmly placing her between Hadrian and himself with his left hand. Dumbledore leveled his wand at the demon.

"Igne Solis." Dumbledore's spell seemed to, like the demons voice, be just out of reach of your auditory abilities, yet still perfectly audible through the din of the fighting. Dumbledores spell opened a small pinprick sized hole in space at the tip of his wand, blasting a beam of sun fire at the Demon. Though the spell started with the thickness of a needle, it destroyed nearly the entire clearing melting rock, incinerating trees, and evaporating water alike. The demon, clearly seemed to be hurt by the devastating attack, and as it began to exude a dementor like aura, rapidly cooling the molten rock, Dumbledore proved why he was known as the Transfiguration Master.

Pebbles became iron chains, the chains grew barbs winding around the demon's legs, causing it to shriek in pain as the chains shredded it's legs. The kind Headmaster turned the ash that was floating in the air into razor sharp shimmering particles of glass. Every single spell he cast chained into the next. He was unstoppable. His chains had almost wound around the demons midsection when Gorzoth locked his fingers, and twisted, the slick sound of the demon's fingers snapping audibly even to Daphne's ears over the lightning's rumbles, over the dementor's screeches.

"Professor, stop it!" She screamed, even as she realized it was too late. Gorzoth completed his spell, his fingers forming the glyph that he had been forming.

/Khar darsan züüd./ The demon slammed its hands together and a ripple of fuchsia magic rippled from his hands. Spreading rapidly outward from Gorzoth's location. Its words making it into Hadrian, Dumbledore and Daphne's minds. The nightmare dimension.

Acting fast, Dumbledore grabbed Daphne's shirt and threw her off the side of the small plateau that they had found themselves on. Noting with satisfaction as she disappeared in a flash of brilliant Phoenix Fire. His phoenix would have been unable to save Himself, Mr. Potter, and Ms. Greengrass. It was best that she got away. He would have to do his best to manage to keep young Hadrian safe.

Hadrian felt the disturbance in his foresight, and abandoning his assault of the dementors, who were now far fewer in numbers than at the start of the battle. Directed all of the lightning he could at Gorzoth, released his control of the bolts, and reached out, grabbing hold of Dumbledore's shoulders. Braced himself as the wave of Fuchsia hit them at the same time as the eleven or so streams of skyfire slammed into Gorzoth.

With a twist the entire clearing collapsed in on itself as reality was broken by the demonic magic, and the clearing itself got sucked into the nightmare realm. Hadrian watched with satisfaction as the demon Gorzoth was struck by his attack before it too got sucked into the vortex as the whole clearing collapsed pulling itself into the Nightmare dimension. The few remaining Dementors left in utter disarray. As their Lord once again was taken from them.

A/N: Hello Welcome To the Arcanist. It is a totally AU Harry Potter Fanfiction that has been writing itself for the last few years in my head, and I have recently put some time into writing it on paper. I have already written over 50k words and will be posting it here as I feel like doing so. A beta would be nice. Flamers will be ignored, this project is mostly because I feel like after reading a billion Harry Potter Fanfictions, I should contribute something of my own. Hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.