Author's Note: To put this bluntly, I'm not entirely sure where this will go. Or if this will go beyond the page you are reading, but there is always the chance. I get a thought stuck in my head, and then I like to share it with all the HP fans who read through this. So, well, I thought I would share this thought that went through my head and see where it goes. If I continue, it will, most likely, be due to those who find a great deal of joy (or, maybe, beg for a continuation.)
Story: When Hadrian Potter loses his mother, and when his father falls ill, is he determined to do anything to ensure that the last relative in his life survives. When the tides of fate press against him, and when hope seems lost, help comes in the most unexpected forms. Hope thrives, but darkness lurks underneath. Without darkness, there would never have been light, and when light dies, it will be darkness that remains.
Warnings: The start of this is rather...depressing. I think it is, anyway, but I'm not sure if anyone else will think the same. I am using several of the known characters in this, but not exactly in the way people might think. Anyway, there are some parts that are rather depressing. The start of this kind of directs that. Hopefully you all like it. However, the ending is light, a bit hopeful, so I hope everyone likes this small piece.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of the original characters. They all belong to their respectful owners and publishers and movie companies.
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Rating: T
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Lightning flashed across the sky.
The ocean churned, white foam whipping out and slapping against his skin as he grasped the thin wrist. The face broke the surface of the water, eyes wide and face shrouded in a flaming halo, and then the ocean ripped them apart. Hadrian surged against the rim of the boat, hands slamming through the water in search of the one who vanished underneath the rolling waves and flashing sky. Desperate, eyes wet and hair sticking to his skin, he searched.
Searched. Water; surging waves; darkness and rumbling thunder and flashing lightning of violet-red. Again the other came up, gasping for breath, voice lost to the wind, but Hadrian could read his name on the lips. Catching hold, feeling nails biting into his wrist and cutting across his skin, he held on. The boat rocked, violent and mocking, and salt stung his eyes. Breathing in the mist, eyes glowing in the darkness, he refused to let go.
"Hadrian," Water slapped against them, and he nearly lost his grip as the voice came back, "It will be okay. You'll see. It will be okay."
A wave crashed into them, and pain speared through his hand. He felt the body twist under the water, striking the bottom of the boat, and he whipped around. He grasped onto the edge, peering into the water. Slapping at the water, hands submerged in icy depths, he searched. He cried out, screaming and begging. Nothing. Sinking against the side of the boat, eyes wet, emerald eyes glowing in the darkness, the wail that tore through his throat was covered by thunder and screaming tides. His voice was hoarse, the night swallowing him and the boat rocked violently as he curled up in the bottom.
He could not draw his gaze from his hands. Red marks, crescents cut into his skin, bore testament to his strength.
~o.O.o.O.o.O.o~
"It was not his fault," voices whispered, hushed and quite, but Hadrian heard them regardless as another voice whispered, "and Lily would not want you blaming this on her son."
Hadrian curled into himself, arms wound around his knees, and burrowed his head against his knees. Death had come. Death had divided them. Shaking, the youth closed his eyes as a sob caught in his throat. Lily. His mum. His beautiful mum, emerald eyes laughing as she twirled in a field of flowers and violet petals blooming in the curls that formed her hair. Lily, eyes exhausted, a smile pulling at her lips as she whispered to him during a storm. Lily, a flame taken by water. Lily, lost and gone.
He leaned his head against the wall, tears silently spilling down his checks. He sat in the gloom, listening to the hushed voices whispering in the other room, and he closed his eyes. He could hear the rumbling boom of his father's voice, James's voice, moments before the sound of a fist colliding with skin echoed through the house. Looking up, eyes dull, he saw a shadow hit the ground as his father snarled, voice loud and clear, "If you ever speak about my son like that again, I'll gut you like the swine you are. My skin may be stained with clay, but that does not mean my knives are any less sharp than yours. Now get out!"
"James," Hadrian rose to his feet, and slunk across the room to peer around the doorway. He could see his father standing in the room beyond, his hands pressed against the table and head bowed, and the apron wound around his waist had hints of red on it. Not clay red, but bloody. Swallowing, kneeling and out of sight, he listened to the older man that spoke, voice sure, "You must think of your son. Your parents are dead. You are all that he has left."
"I know that, Albus." Hadrian peered through the boards, and watched as his father collapsed in a chair. "I know, but there is so little I can do. Lily, oh Lily..."
Hadrian knew his father's eyes were red, puffy from crying, but he still held on. There were others in the room, he noted, and he slowly stood to step into the doorway. Several turned their attention on him the moment his shadow danced across the ground, but he ignored them in favor of watching his father. One arm wrapped around his wait, and he held himself as his father, as James's, looked up. Hazel eyes widened, shock clear in them, and then his father was on his knees, hands on his shoulders, as he whispered, "I do not care what you overheard, Hadrian. None of this is your fault. Do you understand me?"
"If I had not asked..." Hadrian's voice was halted when his father pressed his fingers to his lips, and James's voice was stern as he said, "It is not your fault."
He could not bring himself to agree. He knew the truth. He had been the one who wanted to go on the boat. He wanted to see the sunset over the water, to see the picture his mother had painted so many times with his own eyes. He had wanted to feel the night wind on his face, to feel the cool water sliding between his fingers as they floated across the gentle, loving ocean. But the ocean wasn't so loving, not as gentle, not like he had thought. He held his father's gaze, felt tears building under the clear lens of his eyes, and felt his throat catch as he lowered his head as he whispered, "But it is my fault, pa."
"No," James tightened his grip on Hadrian's shoulders, and the green-eyed youth glanced up. His father was staring him in the face, gaze intense, as he told him, "You are innocent. Neither of you could have known the storm would come, not like it did. That had not been a natural storm, Hadrian. It had not been. Your mother...your mother had been a wise woman, my son. She knows, just like I do, that this is not your fault."
Hadrian disagreed. With a few soft murmurs, he was sent outside. Ambling out the door, walking the bath along the edge of the cliff to the hill overhead where the cherry-blossom tree bloomed in full power, he knelt. He knelt at the fresh grave, and touched the flowers resting over the surface. He looked up, out at the sea beyond, and wondered why, why, this had to happen. Why his mum? Why Lily? Why his father's, his pa's, smiling, loving wife? Nothing answered his silent pleas, and his eyes closed as he clutched his hands in his lap.
Not a week had passed, but only several days, and he swallowed.
Why? Why my mum? Sweet Merlin, why my mum?
Why?
~o.O.o.O.o.O.o~
Disaster, it struck with a fury.
Sickness, like the sea, was unforgiving. Hadrian rushed down the steps, the monument overlooking his father and his home silently pushing his forward, as his father collapsed on the porch. Pottery smashed against the ground, echoing loud and dark in the stillness. Dropping to his father's side, Hadrian grasped his father's arm, pulling him to his feet, struggling to support him as he swayed and coughed. One step, his father trembled, and then red.
Red splattered across the red. Red stained lips, and mixed with the course hairs of James's beard. Hadrian swallowed, and carefully sat his father away from the mess as the elder spoke, "Go, Hadrian. Get Dumbledore."
Hadrian nodded. He rose, and shot down the path. He ran, lungs burning as he stumbled and tripped and fell. He pushed himself up, shot around the bend and shot across the bridge, and slammed into the doorway. The elderly man was in the central room, shelves surrounding him and white hair flowing around him as he walked in robes of violet. Albus Dumbledore glanced up, and set the scroll he was reading aside as he asked, "What is it, child? Has something happened?"
"My father...my father, Albus! Please!" The elderly man roared out a few names, most lost on his ears, and then he was gone. Hadrian sank against the ground, and drew in a tight breath before the elder came sweeping back in several long minutes later with his father in tow. Carried between two men, one whom Hadrian knew was his uncle and the other his cousin, he watched as they set his father on the examination table. Another swept in after them, a stern woman in robes of white and gold. The men scattered, and then her heads were sweeping across his father's body.
"Pa, will my pa be okay?" Hadrian drew himself up to his feet, cheeks wet as he came closer. An arm wrapped around his shoulder, and he looked up into his cousin, the other male's, face. Dudley's face was drawn, and he carefully steered him from the room as he said, "Let Pomfrey do her job, cousin. Come, let us go outside."
"Will pa be fine?" Hadrian echoed, and looked over his shoulder as he was pulled from the house. Dudley did not respond. "Dudley? My pa, will he be okay?"
He grasped his cousin's arm, breath raging in his chest. Dudley looked him in the eye, a light frown marring his features, before he finally said, "No. It looks like he got Dragonpox, Hadrian. That, or the Black Wrath. The second, most likely, if judging by his condition."
Black Wrath. Hadrian shuddered, eyes wide, and pulled away. "No. No."
Hadrian looked back at the healing house, and then at his cousin. He could hear Albus walking down the path, but could not turn to face the elderly man. Instead, he swallowed, and then looked at his cousin as he said, "Is there a cure? Is there someone who can cure it?"
"Hadrian, my boy," Albus spoke up from behind him, and he whipped around to confront the man as he demanded, "Is there?!"
Dimmed blue eyes stared him down, unyielding, before he finally sighed. "There is a cure, my boy, but it will be difficult to get to. Near impossible to reach, as it is, and no magic can break the walls that separate it from the rest of the world. There is no armor, nor weapon, which can confront the dangers that lurk in the untamed wildness that rests between the land where light and shadow exist in harmony."
"That won't stop me." His mother's eyes laughed in his mind, smiling and happy. His father's booming laughter echoed in his memories as he swung him up and into the air with a beaming look on his face. He could hear the bay of dogs, the howl of wolves, and the soft cries of birds as they took flight into the dawn and sunlight. He met Albus's eyes, and kept his voice even as he said, "I don't care what stands in the way. My father is hurting. If there is a cure, then I will go after it. No one can stop me. No one."
No one.
~o.O.o.O.o.O.o~
He slipped out when darkness fell, and slid down the roof and scaled the back of the house. Hadrian could see his aunt's shadow in the windows, hear her soft voice as she spoke to her husband and son. Darting under the window, and out around the back of the houses, he prowled with his ears open and his senses strained. It was dark, nearly the quietest time of night when people began settling, and felt his jaw clench in determination. Wrapped around his hips was his pack, and the scroll, his map, bundled within with other items he might need.
If his father died, he would be alone. It was a stark truth, one he knew well and remembered better. His mum and aunt, sisters from birth, had never gotten along. The two rarely talked, and only came together when there was no other choice. As he followed the trails around the back of the village, as he made his way down the path towards the forest, he couldn't help but shiver. He was alone. He would be alone, for good, if his father died.
I couldn't save mum, but I can, I will, save pa. I will.
He walked past other houses on the outskirts, the windows closed against the darkness. He scaled the gate leading into the forest. He held up a torch, freshly lit and bright in the shadows, and followed the winding path. He kept walking. There was no turning back; there was nothing but the hard-pressed truth, the desperation and shaky fear, to propel him forward. He knew not how long he walked, nor when the last house had passed from his sight, but the air grew colder and the scent of salt and ocean water slowly faded from his senses.
"Late to be out on your own, are you not?" Hadrian jumped, and his head snapped to the side to see an older boy, perhaps fifteen or sixteen, sitting with his back to a tree with a snake weaving between his fingers. Crossing his arms across his waist, looking away from the serpent to meet those violet-red eyes, he murmured, "It isn't all that late. I'm out for a stroll."
"Close to dawn? On your own?" The young male stood, and the black folds of his cloak fell around him as the serpent wound around his shoulders. Those eyes regarded him in silence for a long while, and then the boy said, "You are young. I can see as much. Do you have a name?"
"Do you?" The response was automatic, and Hadrian flushed. He could hear his mum chiding him in his mind, and see a ghostly apparition of her with her hands on her hips as she leaned in. Her voice was stern, even if it was in his mind. 'Hadrian James Potter! I know I taught you better. Rudeness is not appreciated, even if it is directed at a complete stranger you should not be talking to.'
The boy chuckled, and Hadrian glanced up as the other said, "Fair enough. I am Tom Riddle, and this here is Nagini. I do prefer going by Marvolo, after my ancestor, but I'm not too picky. May I inquire your name, young stranger?"
The flushed bloomed, and Hadrian murmured, "Hadrian Potter from Godric's Hollow. Pleased to meet you."
"Godric's Hollow? You have come quite a way." Tom Riddle, or Marvolo as he hinted, fell into step at his side. They were quiet, and Hadrian shot a few shy glances out of the side of his eye at the older boy before asking, "Can I ask why you are out here, in the middle of the night, with a snake?"
"Can you?"
Hadrian blinked in confusion, and then frowned as he rephrased, "May I?"
"You may."
The silent stretched on, and when he realized the boy wasn't speaking, he asked, "Why are you out here, in the middle of the night, with a snake named Nagini?"
Marvolo cocked his head to the side, and then hissed lightly under his breath before answering, "I like it out here. It is quite. People do not bother me, and foolish little boys don't wonder where it may, or may not, be dangerous. Why are you out here?"
Hadrian frowned. He looked down at his hands as he walked, and his voice was soft as he said, "I'm going on an adventure."
"By yourself?"
"By myself." Hadrian whispered the words, and images flashed across the backdrop of his mind. A stray wind brushed against his skin, and he shivered as he wrapped his arms around himself. He looked at Marvolo, and, debating a moment, finally said, "My pa is sick, and the medicine he needs is far away. So I'm on an adventure to get it so that he'll be okay."
"And an adult couldn't go and get it?" There was an emotion under Marvolo's tone, a hiss to his voice, that had him blinking before he answered, "They wouldn't. They said it was too dangerous, and that getting there takes a long time. I have a map, though, and it shows a shorter way, so...well...here I am."
It was not long until the first rays of light rose over the treetops, and Hadrian looked up. He could see the sky, see the brilliance of lights, dusting the horizon like one of the many paintings his mum had painted. He could see the pinks and blues of dawn, and the white clouds glowing as the sun caught them. The forest slowly came to life, and the songs of the wild drifted on the air. A light smile pulled at his lips, and then he asked, "Why are you following me?"
Marvolo glanced at him, and a hint of a smirk curled his lip as he said, "Because a journey should never be taken alone."
