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At 9:00 P.M., Hadrian "Harry" James Potter didn't know what was going on. Sure, he knew the gist of it. A Dark Lord forced his family into hiding, His parents out with some order of people while his grandparents babysat them.
Within the next minute, he was quickly ushered into his brother's nursery by Dorea Potter nee Black, his grandmother, whilst under the withering spell-fire being traded by Charlus Potter, his grandfather, and a group of people that apparently ate death.
He didn't see much of the fight, nor did he know much about the fight, but he did know that his grandfather was some mage if he could fully contend with eight adult wizards.
For approximately three minutes, Harry was hunkered in his brother's nursery, standing vigil over the crib attempting to calm the crying Charles "Charlie" Cygnus Potter, when he heard a resounding explosion, a scream that sounded distinctly like his grandmother's and then followed by another explosion.
It was two minutes later when he didn't hear the sound of spell-fire. Harry had turned to fully face the door when it opened at exactly 9:07 P.M. where a tall man with black locks and red, serpentine eyes revealed himself.
Whereas Charles Potter could only remember a distinct hiss from the infamous night, Hadrian Potter heard a deep chuckle reverberate throughout the room.
It was at 9:08 P.M. when the red-eyed man lashed out and backhanded the older Potter brother onto the floor with the following motion being the drawing of a stick pointed at baby Charles, a sickly, emerald light at the tip.
Despite all attempts by Albus Dumbledore, a famed leader of the Light, and Charms Master and prodigy that was Lily Potter nee Evans, not even the obtaining of a memory from either of the boys could determine what happened after that point.
The only thing that could be agreed on was that at approximately 9:09 P.M. on Halloween night (or Samhain for those of the more traditional and magical of the populous) of the year 1981 at Godric's Hollow, the Dark Lord was defeated.
What remained of the Dark Lord was a smoking heap of black robes and a splintered wand.
Hadrian Potter suffering from magical exhaustion from the ordeal and Charles Potter knocked unconscious with a distinct, bleeding lightning bolt cut adorning his forehead.
Charlus and Dorea Potter lay dead as well as several members of the terrorist group known as the Death Eaters dead.
It was at 9:13 PM on the same night where Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, proclaimed Charles Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived.
It was at 9:13 PM on the same night where Fate threw a pair of dice and allowed Chance to play.
It was at 9:13 PM on the same night where the future of the magical world would forever be changed.
"Come on!" A man with tousled raven hair and spectacles with brown eyes shouted over the commotion that was the dinner table. "Blow out the candles already!"
"Patience, James!" A woman with wavy and fiery red hair and distinct shining emerald eyes, replied in a scolding voice. The smirk on her lips betrayed her annoyance, though.
A shaggy haired man with a beard to match and grim brown robes and easy-going smile almost fumbled on the camera where he was delegated to take the picture was exclaiming his annoyance loudly however and did so with a grand gesture of the hands he lifted into the air. "Oh come off it, Sirius. It's the kid's birthday!" A pale faced man with deranged robes that looked incredibly worn out, if the various patchwork and griminess it had. The sullen man was smiling, happily though as he watched the two parents fuss over their child.
"Remus is right! You can't rush perfection!" Elder hands clasped on one of Remus' shoulders. The sullen man smiled good-naturedly at the man above him. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses in delight as he examined the three people. The Weasley's were due any minute now as well as the Longbottoms.
From a distant corner though, at the other side of the room, in fact. A pair of deadly emerald eyes analyzed the exchange. Not with happiness nor coldness. Nor any emotion, really. Just a mild aloofness at the event. Harry could not understand the effort they went through in organizing his brother's party.
He meant that in the most respectful way possible, considering they were still technically in hiding. He didn't care that they didn't throw a party for him, the excuse being that it would be drawing to much attention to them should they do so. To him a birthday was just that. A birthday. A commemoration to one's age may have appealed to some people but certainly not to him. Harry just didn't see the justification of counting the years when they would go by regardless if one paid it any attention or not.
Of course, if he voiced that he would probably be forced to have a party.
Granted that was just him. He idly wondered if others thought as he did as he moved his eyes back to the book in his hand. Dumbledore probably didn't, he was what a hundred plus years of age? Didn't look any closer to keeling over. Harry would be highly surprised if he did have parties for his age. Then again, he was probably breaking modern records for his advanced age so he probably did.
A raspberry blow signaled his brother's attempts at blowing the five candles out and Hadrian had to bite back the disgust before it showed on his face. I guess I'm skipping on dessert for tonight.
Having had enough of the blatant disregard for health, he silently stood while closing his book and made his way to his room. That was before getting almost run over by the Weasley Clan. A young boy of about five shoulder checked him and, as a result the Weasley was sent sprawling across the floor. The red haired boy clearly paid it no mind as he merely shook the daze away and kept going. Two older boys, the twins Fred and George were casually passing him by and by instinct made Hadrian check his pocket for any loss of the two galleons given to him by Sirius as a gift.
The mischievous glint in their eyes didn't win them any favors either.
Hadrian quickly went up the stairs before he got stampeded by the rest of the mob.
After closing the door behind him, he set the book down on the small bookcase on the far wall and laid on the bed staring at the ceiling.
A knock was quickly heard at his door and a mumbled "Come in." was uttered by the eight year old boy.
His mother was holding a slice of the infected cake in one hand that was stabbed through with a fork. "Would you like some cake?" She asked.
At the expected blank expression, she nodded and regarded her son for a moment. "Now I know you don't like parties." Or any social gathering really. Lily added mentally. "But you should really come down and socialize."
"They're not here for me." Harry stated simply. It wasn't said with any scorn nor malice at all. Just mere truth.
Those five words did cut Lily deeply though as she set the cake down on the nightstand next to the bed before sitting at the foot of it. No kid should display that much lack of emotion. She remembered the lively four year old that plagued their home before they went into and during the duration of the war.
After it though, the whole Voldemort incident that is, Hadrian had changed drastically and as much as Hadrian denied it and how much she and Dumbledore confirmed it, Lily knew her son was hiding something from that night.
It wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible but something tugged at her naval and her instincts screamed to figure it out. Lily suppressed the urge to question him though. He may have given them permission to check his mind, they acted on it but nothing after that emerald light of the killing curse ever amounted to anything but darkness, he would always shut down and lock himself away.
She rested a hand on his leg for a moment before standing.
Hadrian watched her leave and take the infected cake with her.
Harry stared into the entrance of the shop of the world-renowned Ollivander's shop with Sirius at his side.
Neither seemed eager to step foot inside.
"Well, uh Harry." The current Black Lord ruffled his hair slightly and smirked at the indignant look his nephew in all but blood threw his way. "I have business in Gringotts to take care of. Meet me at Fortescue's when you're done. Okay?"
A blank look was his response. Something that those close to him have come to know as his form of saying "I understand."
"You have the money your parents gave you right?"
Another blank look.
"Well, take ten more galleons and get yourself the Horntail holster."
At that Hadrian raised an eyebrow as if saying, "Are you serious?"
The Black Lord smirked at that and Hadrian rolled his eyes in response before they both parted ways.
"Hadrian Potter!" The weathered Scottish voice announced from the raised dais at the front of the famed great hall of Hogwarts. The hall went silent as the grave as, Hadrian noted, watched him go and sit on the wooden stool.
He felt the ancient hide hat weigh down his head. "Ah, A Potter. Haven't had one of you in a while." The hat's voice, in his head that is, sounded raspy and ancient but held a bit of snark in it as well.
"Well shall we?" Harry felt the hat run through his mind and memory. "Hufflepuff is definitely out." If he didn't know better he could've sworn that he heard a distinct tone of disappointment. "Ah yes, all you Potters are anything but Hufflepuff."
That explained the disappointment.
"I would say, Gryffindor is also out. You do not have the bravery that is absolutely needed for the house, nor the courage. Desperation and Determination, you have in spades. You value knowledge though you don't search it for the sake of knowledge but rather the sake of wisdom. I guess, I have your house." And with a booming ancient voice it announced his house for the next seven years.
"Slytherin!"
Silence greeted him as he stood up other than polite applause and congratulations from his new housemates. As soon as he sat down, however, the mumblings began in earnest. He was, after all, the last one to be sorted.
Harry noted that the other snakes did not partake in the whisperings. Instead they either ate in silence or the only four first-years sorted into the house conversed amongst themselves or rather spoke quietly to each other while Hadrian ignored them in favor of eating his fill. He would later learn their names to be Peregrine Derrick and Lucian Bole both brutish but also intelligent. The other being a girl by the name of Isabelle Durand, a half-blood who would later proven to be a good friend, soft-spoken just like him and just as intelligent.
After dinner Hadrian and the other three were quickly escorted to the Slytherin common room, in the dungeons.
Snape wasn't kidding when he shared that fact to Harry on the rare occasion he did visit the Potter household, usually at the insistence of both Dumbledore and Lily. Even then the reclusive man hung onto the walls like a bat and left the moment he was given an opportunity to do so.
"Slytherin. Your home for the next years of your life." Snape announced. The two prefects flanking him on either side. "Whatever happens within these walls, stays within these walls. Whatever squabbles or differences you have with each other, you settle them here. Outside of these walls, we are united, we stand together."
Harry and Isabelle nodded their acknowledgement at that while Lucian and Peregrine both looked at each and shrugging.
"The girls dorms are on the left while the boys are on the right. They are both spelled to never allow one of the opposite gender to either side. So do not try as the consequences from both myself and the Headmaster will be dire." That went without saying and the threats left hanging left them all in silence.
"Since you are in Slytherin, you represent the house as a whole. There will be zero tolerance in laziness and poor marks. There will be zero tolerance towards malicious or degrading behavior. Do I make myself clear?" They all nodded their heads fervently at that given the seriousness in his words.
"You will receive your timetables at the Great Hall tomorrow at breakfast. That is all from me. Good night." And with a billowing and dramatic sweep of his robes, he left without another word. The prefect took his place.
"Given the small amount in this year, you will all have your own rooms. It will be up to you to bring it up to your preference. Remember, in Slytherin everything costs. Should you want help with something, the older years are more than willing to help. For a price, that is. Be it money or favors. Note that Professor Snape's and school rules still stands."
It went without saying that the prefects would escort them to breakfast the next morning. At that they were all escorted to their own rooms, where Hadrian wasted no time in falling asleep.
Hadrian's first three years of Hogwarts passed by in a relative breeze.
He didn't dally nor laze about and immersed himself in his assigned studies as well as personal one. Often times, he would lose track of time during these sessions and would be reminded by Isabelle not to forget meals. Though Harry suspected it was at the insistence of Snape that she be the one to tell him.
The Potter son, upon returning home, was a polite and simple affair. Either Sirius or Lily would be the one to retrieve him and it was only at the end of the year when he did go home.
Many holidays to him meant nothing. Merely another day in the long year. The only holiday, if he could even call it that, was Samhain and for him it was a time for remembrance rather than celebration. Remembrance of his grandparents and their untimely yet ultimate sacrifice to give him and his brother just a sliver more longer on the mortal realm. They died fighting to their last breath and knowing they passed on doing what they believed in.
The apparent desertion of Hogwarts at Christmas allowed Hadrian to explore and further drown himself in his studies. Like most years during the winter time and his birthday, he received books. Sirius bestowed upon him multiple volumes from the Black personal library that offered a fountain of knowledge in battle magic, something that, in all honesty, he could care less for but the knowledge offered within gave an insight on the lengths a wizard could and would go to, to see his or her opponent dead.
Plus it didn't hurt to add more and more spells to his repertoire.
His mother had given him one of her journals of potions in his first year that had been a literal godsend. While not terrible at the subject, he did struggle with the concept of following laid out rules where it was imperative to be on the line and not even a step over nor under could be taken, otherwise a volatile mixture would spell disaster. The journal taught him basics and other shortcuts that could be taken to achieve a desired affect which greatly appealed to his creative and cunning mind.
The next two years he received a Charms journal from her and given that she was currently in the forefront of said field right behind or maybe even surpassing Professor Flitwick, he soaked up the spells and notes as if it was water and him a man stranded in the desert.
Remus, really the only other person that got him gifts and always sent a book on Runes. The subject he absolutely loved and was inherently good at.
The only thing, his father gave him was a Nimbus. James had initially been aloof to his son when he found out his son was in Slytherin. Now it was just an indifference but the animosity still held. Given that he always believed that Slytherins were the embodiment of all things evil, Hadrian didn't fault the man nor did he attempt to correct him.
It was funny, to Harry at least, when he was told their views on Slytherin and, almost always, the answer would stray to future Dark Lords or Ladies. They were right for the most part. You couldn't be brave and stupidly courageous to be a Dark Lord, no one has ever heard of those. You couldn't be humble and loyal to be a Dark Lord or otherwise be taken advantage of. One had to have an ambition that eclipsed all others. Be studious to foster that ambition to make it a reality, be cunning, charismatic and capable of crossing lines should the need the arise.
That was what it took to be a Dark Lord. And all these people of modern times have perverted the title to something evil and taboo. Voldemort and Grindelwald being the most damaging. Those two were just plain evil.
Hadrian fully believed that had Merlin existed in this time, he would be viewed as the epitome of what a Dark Lord was. No one talked about the lengths at which the greatest wizard of all time used to hide wizarding and magical kind from the mundanes. No one talked about the rituals and sacrifices, he made to ensure their very safety.
In Hadrian's mind, no magic should've had a label like those of today. There is no good nor evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it
Hello and I would first like to thank you for reading this story. This was something I had put some thought into posting and wasn't really sure if I should before I decided "Fuck it" and wrote it in an hour to post today. If you are here from my other story than welcome back and I hope you enjoy this work as well.
This one will be updated slower than my main work and will be mostly written off the cuff in the general direction of where it is supposed to go. As a result it may have a noticeable drop in quality than to my other story but I will try to fix and keep it to my abnormally high standards when posting chapters.
Other than that….
Until Next Time!