Excelsior
Genre: Fantasy/Romance
Rating: T for Violence, Language, Character deaths, etc.
Disclaimer: I don't own HP.
Summary: In the magical world on the other side of Britain, seven Lords fight for the right to be crowned king by undertaking a quest to find a medallion. And how does Hermione Granger fit into its plan? AU, HG/TR
A/N: And here we go again, into the wonderful world of HG/TR. Yes, wonderful, because this is a completely fantasy AU story. The plot has some very very loose basings on the novel/movie Stardust, but just in the fact of the separate kingdom of magic, and the quest for the pendant. I'm not making Hermione a star, that's just way too cliché.
This fanfic is for everyone who wants a happy ending to their HG/TR fics. Therefore, I'll be taking some extreme liberties with the characters. Characterization? Was that what just went flying out the window? Just kidding, but this is not the place for you if you want to read about a dark, depressing, abusive Tom. In lieu of canon, I am going to be focusing on taking events from all 7 books and weaving them together in this fantasy epic. I prefer romantic, funny, heartwarming tales, and that is exactly what you, the reader, are in store for. Enjoy!
--Kako
"I have a story to tell you. It has many beginnings, and perhaps one ending. Perhaps not. Beginnings and endings are contingent things anyway; inventions, devices. Where does any story really begin? There is always context, always an encompassingly greater epic, always something before the described events, unless we are to start every story with "BANG! Expand! Sssss…," then itemize the whole subsequent history of the universe before settling down, at last, to the particular tale in question. Similarly, no ending is final, unless it is the end of all things…"
The Algebraist, Iain M. Banks
Chapter One
There are two worlds on this earth, completely separate from one another, although they both are so woven together that it is hard to distinguish the two if you look at the way they have evolved over time. The world of magic lies immediately next to the world of man, with one small bridge between the two realms.
I am talking, of course, about the wall. The Wall, as it is called by residents on the non-magical side close to the border, is a nearly ten feet high stone structure seeming to span hundreds of miles, although no
one has ever traveled the whole length of it. The Wall is almost a daily fixture in the lives of people living in the villages near it, and no one dares to go over it, or through the one gap just wide enough for an average-sized man.
They do not know of the terrible wonders and amazing miracles that go on in this other world. No one who has ever gone to the other side has ever returned, whether by death or reasons of their own.
But describing our world and the realm of magic takes a different kind of approach.
There are four kingdoms in the world of magic, each ruled by their particular King or Queen. Ravenclaw, in the south, Hufflepuff, in the west, Gryffindor in the North, and Slytherin in the east. While the four kingdoms are never at war, they are never truly at peace either, for the citizens of the four kingdoms are forever fighting with one another and rivalries among the families of magic stretch as deep as the blood running through their veins.
A long time ago, Magic used to run rampant through the fields of Hufflepuff and the glens of Ravenclaw, over the mountains of Slytherin and the glaciers and highlands of Gryffindor. Then the four rulers of each of the kingdoms came together with the purpose of trying to tame the magic. Each were good friends then, and had joined together to create a school to teach young children about magic, located at the very center of the four kingdoms, and with a House to represent each.
The four monarchs decided to contain all the free magic inside talismans or objects of great historical or aesthetic power. They considered the free-roaming magic wasted, and if contained, they believed the whole power of the magic could be fully utilized. Weapons, jewelry, crowns, and heirlooms were all given traces of magic, and the free, untamed magic that had roamed the valleys freely was lost forever. Without the traces of magic in the air and soil across the four kingdoms, apparition, the act of instantaneous travel, was also impossible.
Unable to wield magic on their own, wizards and witches (as the inhabitants of the world of magic were called; male and female, respectively) needed to control an item with magic inside in order to cast simple spells.
Still, magic was never meant to be controlled. Over time, all of the objects were either lost to the times or secluded by the great magical families of the day, conserving their magic and building their power.
Over time, the kingdoms began not to fall, but to fade away. The Queen of Ravenclaw, Rowena, had mysteriously abandoned her castle and was never seen from again. The King of Gryffindor, Godric, had been injured in a fierce battle with the northern giants, and was unable to rule his kingdom with the same bravery and skill he had in the past. Hufflepuff was always a sparsely populated region, but Helga, the Queen, had recently decided to live out the rest of her life in a hidden cottage in the forest, forsaking the rest of the world. And Salazar, the King of Slytherin, was on his deathbed after having been poisoned, but by one of the regent's hands or his own was never known, waiting for the seven Lords of the kingdom to gather and hear who would be the next King of Slytherin.
Which brings us to the start of our story…
Salazar's reddened eyes surveyed the opulent room, watching the six assembled Lords with little interest. Over the centuries, his health had been slowly declining, as had all of the founders of the four kingdoms. Along with the items they had imprisoned magic into, the monarchs had also forced some of the magic into their own bodies, keeping them alive long past a person's normal lifespan, magical or not.
Six of my Lords are here, Salazar thought, assessing the calculated looks on each of the regents. None of them truly cared, they were all only interested in furthering their own interests. But, as he had no true heir, he was obligated by law to choose an heir from his Lords. Each was the head of one of the old magical families, and each had been made soft by years of luxury and the declining magic of their crests.
Yaxley, Rosier, Dolohov, Malfoy, and the two Lestrange brothers, Salazar counted. But one is missing.
"Where is my seventh prince?" Salazar asked, his voice weak with illness. Lucius Malfoy, the oldest of the seven, answered. "Why do you need him? You must have chosen your successor already?" It was obvious the tall blond already thought himself King.
The green velvet curtains covering the walls of the ornate bedchamber muffled the sounds of thick leather boots tapping an imperious walk down the marble hallway outside the King's Chambers. They did little to muffle the effect, however, as the seventh and final Lord of Slytherin swung open the double doors and strode inside the room, his eyes meeting every one of his fellow Lords in a silent nod of greeting before moving to his King's bedside.
"Where were you?" Lucius asked sardonically, doing little to hide his glare. "I was slaying trolls by the northern border when I got the news," Tom Riddle replied curtly, ignoring his elder Lord's presence as he turned away from the blond patriarch. Not that you have any right to know my business, although you so flagrantly display yours, he thought distastefully.
"Now that all my princes are here, there is the matter of my heir to discuss," Salazar said, sitting up in his bed as he pulled his heavy silver medallion bearing the antediluvian crest of the Kingdom from under his robes, the light from the crystal chandeliers and light making the encrusted emeralds gleam dully. These were uncut stones, with no question as to their authenticity.
"Yes, my King, which of us will rule Slytherin after your death?" Lucius asked, already standing at attention as if to receive his tribute.
"As all of you are fit to rule in status, I will be devising a quest to test your abilities," Salazar said, his voice hoarse from exhaustion.
At once, the seven princes straightened, their masks of indifference or nobility dropping into looks of pure shock, and in Lucius' case, rage.
"A test?" He asked, his mouth curling grotesquely.
"Yes," he said, unfastening the pendant with magic, and holding it in his hand, a smile on his face, almost in appreciation of the incredible magic housed inside. "Whoever can find this medallion and
return here to the castle with it will be able to claim the kingship," he said as a flash of magic illuminated the entire room, the pendant flying out of Salazar's hands and arcing across the room, both Lestranges jumping into the air to try and grab it as it soared out of the window, heading for parts unknown as the streak of white light became imperceptible as the pendant crossed the border.
And above all, the cackle of the first King of Slytherin resounded as he drew his last breath, and died.
The race for the kingship was on.
In the middle of the four kingdoms, in the town of Hogsmeade, a woman named Hermione Granger sat in the bookstore, a heavy tome on the history of the nearby school half-read in her lap. She turned another page, a look of pure serenity on her features as she brushed a lock of stubbornly curly hair behind her ears.
"Hermione!" The voice of Flourish and Blott's owner, Nicolas Flourish, shook her out of her literary-induced reverie. She looked up, cringing and blushing slightly at the expression on her employer's face.
"You should be working, not reading!" He chastised her, reaching to grab the book from her fingers. He walked down an aisle, carefully tucking the book back into its proper place.
"But it's my favorite," Hermione whispered softly, frowning. She'd have to finish the book again during her lunch break.
"I have to step out for a few minutes, can you watch the shop?" Nicolas asked Hermione, who nodded resolutely. "And no reading till I get back! Then you can have your break," he told her, a smile gracing his weathered features.
Hermione moved to stand behind the counter in the front of the small bookstore. She had decided to work here immediately upon graduating from Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in the dead center of the four surrounding kingdoms. She frowned slightly, propping her chin on one hand as she leaned over the counter. Not like I had much of a choice for my profession, even though my grades were near the top of the class.
Hermione was an orphan, and what some called a "Muggle-born." She had been taken from across the Wall when she was very little, and had no memory of her past life. As an orphan, she had no magical talisman of her own and no Kingdom to call home, so this unaligned town in the middle was the only place that would take her in.
Although working in a bookstore suited Hermione Granger. She had all the knowledge she could want, right at her fingertips. She read books everyday, and for free. The pay was ample enough for a modest flat further in the town, and enough food so she wouldn't go hungry. The only thing Hermione Granger missed was a sense of adventure. Her life had become both boring and predictable, with nothing to separate one day from the next.
She absentmindedly drew her fingers across one corner of a newspaper in the corner of the counter. The Daily Prophet, she read upside-down. The preferred paper of all the Kingdoms.
Hermione noticed a loose book sitting on the edge of the counter. She picked it up, studying the spine. Memoryes and Magick, by Hereward Nightridge, she read, deftly picking it up and moving from behind the counter and down an aisle, locating the proper place for that particular tome.
"It should belong here," she muttered, sliding the book into place just as a blinding white light burst through the bookstore, stunning Hermione as she blinked through the brightness, one hand outstretched as to block the light from her eyes.
Suddenly the light receded, and Hermione became aware of the heavy pendant that lay in her outstretched hand. She gasped, taking a step back as her hand wavered from the peculiarity of the situation and the weight of the pendant. She lifted it closer, nudging the book into the shelf as she studied the inscription on the pendant.
She traced the sharp outline with her finger, following the twisting, writhing snake inside a double circle, imprints of roses and other flowers light across the background. She turned the amulet in her hands, angling it so the snake seemed to form a letter 'S' across the entire pendant. S for Slytherin, she thought. She shifted the thick chain in her hands, holding it up. Curious, she let it unfold. It was of the perfect length….
Slowly, and with trembling fingers, Hermione lifted the pendant towards her head and slipped it over her neck. She lifted her hair out from under the chain, letting the medallion settle against her chest. She picked it up in her fingers, amazed at how light it felt when she was wearing it.
Suddenly, a bright light filled the bookstore again, but less blinding than the last time. Hermione covered her eyes, and when she lowered her hands a pale ghost stood before her, a bemused expression on its face. From the gaunt features and long, grayish-white hair and beard, Hermione knew the figure she was looking at, recognizing him from the book she was just reading about the formation of the school, was Salazar Slytherin, the first king of that Kingdom.
"Ah, so my medallion has been sent to you?" Salazar spoke first. She sensed only a hint of irony in his voice at the situation before him.
"What does this mean?" She asked, her fingers still clenched around its slightly oval silver frame.
"I do not have much time," Salazar continued. "There are several things you must know about that pendant. From now, you are the guardian of its magic. It can never be taken from you unless you give it willingly."
Hermione nodded slowly. "I have set my Lords with a test. Whichever one of them you deem worthy to receive that medallion will become the new King."
"Then, you are dead?" She asked, biting her lip. At Salazar's subtle nod, her eyes flooded with concern. "I'm sorry," she told him.
"Do not be, it is time for a new order. It is that way in all four Kingdoms," he said. Hermione noticed the edges of his figure seemed to be fading into the surroundings of the bookshelves. "I am moving on. I will be watching your progress from the heavens," he said, finally disappearing completely.
Hermione opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it swiftly. She had so many questions. She didn't know any of the Lords of Slytherin, and truly didn't care. She didn't want to be a part of their stupid test! How dare they involve her? What could she possibly add to it?
She was interrupted by the clanging of the bell over the door. Hermione hurriedly shoved the pendant under her robes, hurrying back to the front to see that Nicolas had returned.
"Not reading again on the job, were you?" He joked. Hermione shook her head. "I was re-shelving some books," she answered truthfully, leaving out the part about the pendant. She didn't want to involve anyone more than necessary in this quest of Salazar's. If the ruthless, cunning nature of the ruler was any indication, she knew the Lords would kill for this power.
Her blood froze. She needed to get out of here, and fast. Even normal wizards and witches who were not in line for the crown would want the power. She couldn't trust anyone.
"You do know you can take your lunch break now," Nicolas told her as he straightened the stack of newspapers on the counter. Hermione just nodded, moving out of the bookstore and into the streets of Hogsmeade without another word.
Behind, Nicolas chuckled to himself. "Strange girl…looked like she just saw a ghost or something."
Tom Riddle sat in a plush green velvet armchair in a lounge room in the castle of Slytherin, leaning back lazily as he swirled a shot of firewhiskey around in a tiny shot glass. Slowly, two of the other Lords, Evan Rosier and Antonin Dolohov, walked into the room, stopping their conversation abruptly upon catching sight of Tom.
"Gentlemen," he announced to them, spreading his arm towards the decanter of whiskey on the table. "Won't you join me in a drink?"
Rosier agreed immediately, walking across the room quickly and sitting down in a chair opposite Tom, pouring himself a glass of the dark amber liquid. He shot a look at Dolohov, who was eyeing the liquor apprehensively. "Join us in a toast, friend!" Rosier said jovially, raising his glass.
Sighing, Dolohov joined them at the table, pouring himself a shot, although a smaller one.
"We were discussing possible alliances for the crown," Rosier said as Dolohov lifted his glass to join Rosier's for the toast. "Would you like to join us?"
Tom fought to hold back his smirk at Rosier's offer. "For the crown," he said, raising his glass in the toast.
"For the crown," the two echoed dutifully, knocking back their shots of firewhiskey, Tom waiting a few seconds later with the glass poised at his lips. Slowly he tilted the alcohol down, savoring the burn of the liquor as he let it linger on his tongue before swallowing.
He let his smirk free as the two set their glasses down sharply, Rosier already reaching for the decanter. His arm abruptly stopped halfway there as his eyes widened sharply, his other hand reaching up to grab his throat as it constricted, severing the air connection as the tasteless, odorless poison in the alcohol did its job.
Rosier fell out of the chair, the strangled noises from his throat ceasing after a few seconds.
Dolohov looked up sharply, glancing from the decanter back to Tom, his eyes widening as he experienced the same reactions, his throat closing as the poison took effect, killing him silently. He too fell onto the floor, Tom leaning back in his chair as he pulled the separate bottle of firewhiskey from the opposite side of his chair, lifting the bottle and taking a healthy mouthful.
Those fools, he thought. I make deals with no one. I will be King, and no other.
And with that, Tom leaned back even further to rest his feet on the antique table as he took another drink.
A/N: How's that for the opening? Next chapter, Riddle and Hermione will meet! From this point on, I will also be branching out from the 'Stardust' themes, as Hermione is obviously not a star. Also, 'Excelsior' means 'ever upward' in Latin, that ties in to the 'stardust' aspects of the plot. Also, anyone catch the allusion to my other HG/TR fic, Just Let Me Wake Up Already? xD
Reviews are my crack! Feed my habit! xD Just kidding, but reviews would be greatly appreciated so I know where to go from here and what you all liked about it!
