Hello! This is somewhat of a project of mine, I have had these thought about a story that would go like this for some time and decided to write it for my own pleasure. Me being the kind fellow that I am decided to upload it to this web page for others to enjoy. So without furter delay, enjoy!
AN Alfreds last name Bruvold, means bridge violence, I couldn't come up with anything else that would be somewhat fitting.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter, and I make no profit on this story.
Odins runes
1938
In a little rural village young Alfred Bruvold lived. At the age of eight he stood 120 cm above the ground, he had blond hair, and light blue eyes. Helping his mother and father with their daily tasks led to that he had a slightly lean figure, though he wasn't old enough yet to have gotten any real muscles. Alfred, unlike others his age was well read, this came from the reason that both his parents were educated quite well, though still lived at the country side.
At the moment Alfred was browsing the library that the town somwhow had managed to get their hands on.
Looking for something new to read Alfred turned to the section of books that contained facts and stories of the old Norse ways, gods and similar things. Picking up something that described the old Norse gods he went over to a soft chair and sat to read.
What he read about Odin, the Chief God was amazing! He once was the god of weather and lightning, bu the had been promoted to Chief God, God of war, God of knowledge and God of magic!
As Alfred read he came over a section where it described how Odin got vast knowledge of runes and magic. The book kept on explaining that Odin hung himself on a windswept tree with his spear in his shoulder, keeping him from falling and stayed there for nine days and nine nights, without food or water! As he did this he received knowledge of, not just runes, but almost anything! At the end of the nine days and nine nights he had all the knowledge that he needed, and could do almost anything he wanted to do with his runes!
Quickly putting the book away and finding another one about old Futhark, the rune writings of old, and began reading and memorising. Filled with childish(though he was one) energy he quickly had it in his head, and left to find a place where he could test this.
Finding a clearing in the forest not far from the main road at the foot of the mountain he found himself a stick. Sitting down on his knees he began drawing the runes for water and gift. Putting the stick away he placed his hands on the runes, closing his eyes in concentration. With a muttered "Laguz gebō"(water gift) he concentrated on the feeling of water, what it was, and that he wanted to gift this small piece of dirt it.
Sitting like this for a couple of minutes made him feel silly, but suddenly he felt his fingers becoming wet. Opening his eyes they landed on the former plot of dirt now turned water. Whopping in delight he hopped up and jumped circles around the pond that he'd made.
Slowing down as the adrenalin went away he took in what had happened. He had managed to use a rune! How unreal! But then reailty crashed into him. Was he somekind of a witch now? Would people burn him like in the stories his mother told him if they found out? Maybe he could keep it a secret? Yes! His very own secret to keep!
Dusting off imaginary dust off his pants he walked towards his parents dwelling, his mother was making meatballs for dinner!
1942
In the little town Alfred was helping his mother in the house. He had come far after he had found the knowledge about Futhark. Growing able to use everyone of them, though somewhat haltingly as he was still a child, though something that wouldn't last for long. As he helped his mother tidying up the house and carrying crates for his father he reflected over the last two years. The second world war had reached Norway even though the country had stated it was neutral. The Germans though had ignored it, the strategical position of the land too desirable to leave alone.
Coming to reality as he put down the last crate he suddenly felt that the whole house shook and a loud cracking noise came from the kitchen. Standing up abruptly from his crouched position he looked towards the kitchen as he heard the scream of his mother. Running into the doorway that led to the kitchen he stopped in shock as he took it all in. The first thing he noticed was that the door that led out was blown inwards and the whole room was a mess. The table flipped over and tableware thrown all around. Spanning his eyes to the left he saw his father, pinned to the wall with his eyes and throat ripped out. Paling and quickly moving his eyes to the right where he heard a second scream by the window he saw a couple of white and red clad men in robes above his mother, using sticks to cause pain to her.
Quickly assessing the situation he did something that other boys his age wouldn't do. He kept his mouth shut and ran towards the nearest of the three men. As he strode towards him he concentrated on the energy that he used to power runes in his hand, and imagined the runes, how they were shaped, how they worked, and its effects. Placing his somewhat glowing hand on the man, he heard they were talking in German, something that he had learned a little about from some books.
"Why are we here Johannes? Aren't we supposed to fight the fight? Not to kill random muggles?" The shortest one of them said. "Yes, but Lord Grindelwald said to cause hawok and kill these filthy creatures as much as we could, choosing a rural village up in nowhere at all makes it easier to avoid notice from the allied forces and the Britons." The man who Alfred had put his hand on said. As he was about to say something else Alfred decided to end the misery of his mother and kill this man.
"Sníða framr!"(Cut, forward) He screamed as the energy in his hand cut forward through the Germans spine and the one in front of him as well, only stopping at the wooden wall, expelling light. Quickly turning towards the last robed person he put his hand forward with two fingers up and traced a rune in the air. "Ógagn!"(harm) he shouted pointing the rune towards the man, making him fall to the floor with a scream. Striding too the writhing man he again put his hand up, tracing another rune, one he had created himself, since the original Futhark was somewhat lacking. "Dveljask!" (stay) he shouted with rage and hate. Making the person lie still and petrified on the floor, still in pain from the first rune.
Standing over him Alfred gathered himself as he set up to his task; finding out why they did this, and who this so-called 'Lord' Grindelwald was.
Kicking him in the ribs he asked in garbled and broken German. "Who are you! Why did you do this!" Though coming out more broken than he wanted the robe clad person understood him. "I do it to exterminate these sick creatures and bring the world under for the wizards, the Gods, to rule!" He managed to garble out before the pain kicked inn again. "I t was for the greater good, I will say no more". Alfred understood that easily enough and started tracing another rune, this one to force a person, object, creature to either talk the truth or show the truth straight into the mind of the caster. "Tala sannindi hugr" (talk, truth, mind/thought) he said in a deadly calm voice, something that should be impossible of a child his age.
As the man didn't want to talk, even forced through the power of the runes, thoughts, memories and hidden secrets started seeping through to the blond boy. Nearly at once Alfred wanted to cut the connection, he could because he was the one who powered them, though he didn't do it. The thought of his parents brutally murdered kept him going through the horrible and unspeakable things that this person had done. The first real memory, or though was that of the murder of his parents, forced to watch, he cried bitter tears. But soon the memories changed. He learned of a hidden society, that the energy that he used to power runes was magic, and that there were other kinds of it. Finally he came upon memories of Grindelwald and who he was, what he did and what he would do. And finally he found out that he was the reason for this war. Therefore he found a reason to train and use his knowledge of Futhark, he would fight Grindelwald and his Legion of Right.
Finished with the interrogation he cut of the power for the runes and looked down on the man. He hadn't really tried this rune on any humans so he was slightly curious. As he looked at the man he saw the vacant look in his eyes, and deduced that he had probably broken him mind. Deciding not to be a bastard like these people he killed him straight away.
Looking around, his tears came back in full force as he saw his parents and decided that they needed a proper burial.
Later that night
Looking at the graves of his parents young Alfred was silent. He stood in a brown cloak with a hood while the rest of his clothes was green and white. Saying nothing he nodded his head at each of the graves and turned around and started to walk away, the shadow of the hood hiding his tears. Making a vow he started walking faster.
He had people to kill.
1945 – April – Battlefield Germany
The war was at its end. The allied forces were winning, though the wizarding war wasn't quite as finished. This was what Alfred thought as he oversaw the remnants of the last battle. The carnage was disturbing though he didn't care for the moment as he had seen much the same through the last two years, the first year used for training. He had come far in his training with runes. Creating new ones to fit his purpose in the war, and training his body. He made a striking image for his 15 years. Tall and muscled, his cloak brown while his other clothes was black and red, all of them had runes woven into them, making them more durable and fit for fighting. No one had seen his face for a long time, as he usually had the hood drawn up for no one to see him, something that was helped with runes of darkness.
As he looked behind him he saw several wizards from Britain, he had helped them fight the battle, and there were many injuries, and some dead. Had he come later they would've all died.
One brown haired man walked up to him, the bleeding from his right hand had stopped as he had been healed somewhat by a healer. Stopping a couple of meters in front of him he bowed only slightly, as he was quite old, and had been injured in the ribs.
"Thank you" he said, his head still slightly bowed. "Thank you for saving us, if you hadn't been here we would.." Halting, though gathering himself he started again. "we would have died, or worse..." His tone was quiet as he whispered the last words. Another person, this time a woman looking about the age of 30-40 stepped forth and said "We thank you! We owe you much for what you have done today." She was outspoken, and looked like she would normally been a happy and bubbly woman was it not for this war. The thirty or so people behind hear nodded at her words. Alfred turned his head back to the brown haired man as the old man spoke again. "We owe you a wizarding debt, ask and we shall help you in anything." His head was still bowed, though he raised it as he came to the last words.
Alfred looked at the people gathered before him and let out a slight sigh that no one noticed. These people were some of the people that had volunteered to join the battle against Grindelwald from Britain. They weren't trained very good, but they had some unique knowledge of fields that they had mastery of, something which made them able to fight the monsters that started the war.
Alfred stood there for a couple of minutes, thinking of the debt. A wizarding debt was something that happened when a wizard(or witch) saved another wizards(or witches) life, they were compelled through magic to fulfil that debt, though it could go through blood and the debt would be passed unto his sons or daughters, none of which he had now. Thinking on it the decided.
"I am glad I could help you, I want this Grindelwald dead as much as you. The only thing that I will do with the debts are to hold you to them. I might someday come and learn another craft, and knowledge would be appreciated. I bid thy farewell." He said in perfect English.
As he was about to walk away he was stopped by the outspoken woman. "Wait! Who are you? What is your name?" It was an honest question, which he answered. "My name I Alfred, though I also go by Odin." Some people gasped as they heard his moniker. He used the name when he fought, and the Legion of Right feared it.
As he was about to walk away again, he was once again stopped by something, this time a low cracking noise. Quickly turning around and raising his hand, about to unleash hell at the person, believing it enemy. Powering his hand with magic he stopped before doing anything. This time it was another old man with brown hair and beard, though slightly silvery. It was Albus Dumbledore, a person who he hadn't met before, but heard of. He was recognised as one of the strongest wizards in Britain, though he hadn't joined any battles as of yet. There were rumours of a prophecy concerning this man and Grindelwald, though he didn't know any specifics. He wore a colourful robe, with any colour imaginable and he made a slight sad face as he saw the battlefield.
Albus Dumbledore turned towards Alfred, his expression curious. "And who are you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling behind his spectacles, even in the sombre atmosphere.
Alfred just looked at him with deadpan expression(though no one could see it) and said, "And why should you care?" somewhat in a bitter tone, though none heard it. He stood there for a moment, before deciding to get away from here. Tracing some runes in the air, beyond care if anyone saw how he did it, he disappeared without a sound.
He had to prepare.
Dumbledore, more dumbfounded than insulted just stood there looking at the vacant spot, before turning to his fellow country men.
"That was Odin, master of runes" the leader of the band said to the curious transfiguration teacher.
"Ah" Albus merely said. He had heard of him, master of runes, using them in other ways than considered normal by British standards. The name had reached Scotland a couple of months ago, saying that he had killed many of Grindelwalds men, and saved many wizards during the war. He decided that he would keep him in mind, he might meet him again.
Turning towards the battlefield again he decided enough was enough, he too would join the war again Gellert, he had to rectify his mistakes. Nodding to his fellow men he decided to help them home.
With Alfred
As he arrived by magic in front of a hut, or shed as it was in the mountains not far from the battlefield he fell down on one knee. He too had been hit with a couple of curses, though the clothes with protective runes woven inn had dampened them, though they still weren't as good as dragon skin armour, or acromantula silk that some wizards had access to. He had been hit in his hip by a cutting curse and had a couple of bludgeoning curses to his ribs, as they were cracked. Nothing some healing runes and herbs wouldn't take care of.
Standing up again with slight difficulty he again thought about what he was going to do for the next week. He had decided a long time ago, when he first read about it. That he would do the rune ritual of Odin. It was a ritual that would amplify his runes, and his knowledge of them by a large degree. He decided when he was around ten to do it when he was around the age of 14-17, though it was a gruesome ritual. The ritual would take nine days. Without any food or water while having a spear trough his shoulder hanging from a tree. It couldn't be any tree though, it had to be a lonely tree upon a hill where the wind would rip through. He would have chosen Yggdrasil, the tree of life, though it had long ago been cut down by power and money hungry wizards. Something that he still resented them for still, even after he found out a couple of years ago.
Deciding on the best course of action he went into the shed and went to heal himself. He would have to be in his best shape to do this ritual.
April 26 – A couple of days later – Windswept hill
He was going to start the ritual now.
He hadn't been fully healed after the last battle that he fought in. But he felt in his weary bones that the final battle against Grindelwald was drawing near, and he had to be prepared. Alfred stood before the tree he was using for the ritual, he had already traced the runes that he thought necessary around the tree. It was a circle of letters with nine other circles within, also filled with runes.
Steeling himself he climbed the tree, going to a thick one around the middle of the tree and climbing a little out from the tree. Drawing himself up by his one hand he aligned his left shoulder with the thick branch he took the spear that he had made, also covered with runes and stabbed it through his shoulder. Yelping from the pain he let go of the tree branch, hanging only from the spear.
Grimacing from the pain his thoughts went to the life that he led. He didn't have any friends, the few that he had killed in the attack on his village. He didn't have any family either, all of them killed too. His hormones, though there were repressed because of the war. He only trained and thought of the next battle. It was a empty life, though one that he felt necessary at this time. After the war he would find someone to share his life with, he wanted a family.
Though sombre thoughts of a young boy, the war and death of is parents had forced him to mature faster. After the war, he decided, he didn't want to kill any more. Not unless absolutely necessary.
The magic of the runes had started its build up, and more pain came for Alfred. Worse than any cruciatus that he had experienced, and sweeter than any pleasure he'd had.
Nine days later
As the days slowly went by the magic of the ritual became stronger and stronger, though he started to get something in return. Knowledge long forgotten, or merely sealed came forth to him. He felt his energy – the magic inn him swell and grow stronger, and runes came forth. Runes to kill, runes to heal, runes to dull, runes for pain, runes for warriors, and runes for shamans. As the magic hit its crescendo he felt the end of the ritual.
Through the last days of the ritual his eyes had been closed, and his senses dulled as the magic shielded him from the outside world. When the magic hit its crescendo several cracks could be heard from the hill as several British wizards came to investigate, something that Alfred didn't notice.
Albus Dumbledore, one of the people that arrived to the hill stood still with shock as he watched what happened. The magic build up was huge, the reason for arriving here was that they thought that Lord Grindelwald was up to something, though it seemed as though it wasn't. Walking up to the tree he tried to get passed the runes around the tree to get to the young man that hung from hit. Someone he knew as Odin, or Alfred as was his name. His blond hair going to his shoulders and a handsome face. He couldn't though, get passed, as the magics in the ritual was too strong. The only thing that he could do was to wait.
The other people were curious as to what was happening. One auror from the British ministry voiced their collective thoughts.
"What is he doing?" he asked in slight awe and horror.
Albus Dumbledore, transfiguration prodigy answered him. "It is a ritual, one of the most painful one if I remember correctly." He hummed. "Though it doesn't require any human sacrifices" He said the last one as most of the aurors had began paling with horror. "The sacrifice is pain beyond anything one should feel, and many has lost their minds to the knowledge they received. The ritual had mostly been thought lost." He said, mostly to himself. "The ritual has several names; Odin's rune song, rune powering ritual and the like, but it is mostly called Odin's knowledge. The one who does the ritual will receive knowledge of runes and they will have more power." he said at the end.
Some people were looking at the youth impaled in the tree with somewhat awe in their eyes. But before anything else could be said the magic disappeared and Alfred slowly opened his eyes, unused to the sun.
Looking around somewhat owlishly he saw the people gathered in front of him and sighed. Putting his hand on his spear he pulled it roughly out and fell to the ground landing on one knee.
Standing up with some difficulty Alfred dusted of his clothes and looked at his shoulder wound. Placing his hand over it he traced some complicated runes in the air and pushed it into the wound, making the skin and flesh knit itself together. Looking up as he let his hand fall he once again saw the faces of flabbergasted Englishmen. Deciding to take the initiative he greeted them.
"Hello folks..."he said roughly, his throat dry, it had been nine days after all.
Dumbledore, appointed speaker greeted him in kind."Well, hello there yourself young man." He said, disturbed by what the youth had done to himself. "Why in the world would you do such a ritual! What in the world made you do it?" Dumbledore nearly shouted the last sentences, it was a dangerous ritual after all.
"What made me do it?" Alfred asked somewhat off balance. "It's something that I planned since I was a child, but now the time had come, the final battle against Grindelwald is soon, so, why not use it now?" He said unconcerned, he had after all planned it for years, researched everything he could about it. Why should he have been worried? Worse things have happened.
Thrown of f by his tone Dumbledore merely stood there in shock. It was war, yes, but why go to such means? But it wasn't his place to judge, he after all hadn't been fighting this war longer than he had.
"Well, if this is all people, I have preparations to be made" Alfred said as he prepared to leave, but was stopped by one of the aurors.
"Stop! You'll have to come with us on the charge of using dark magic!" One of the higher ranked aurors said with some scorn.
Dumbledores eyes shifted to the form of the auror thinking him crazy for trying to stop the war hero.
Alfred also stopped. "Dark magic? There is nothing dark with magic, only the intent. Besides there was nothing ill-meaning with the ritual, nothing to harm others. And besides, I'm not under your government, I'm from a rural village in Norway, a country that doesn't have any magical government. So to that I'll just say HA! And leave." And leave he did. Just a few waves of his two fingers and runes floated in mid-air around him and he disappeared.
'What...' was the collective thought.