Author's Note: This is the first installment of 'Fade To Black: The Serpent and the Stone.'

Summary: History was a fickle thing; riddled with flaws, with errs and murky waters, the truth was often vague. There was none who understood that better than young Hadrian Potter, a boy fated to protect another from birth. One was a hero, and the other an unwavering guardian. The bonds of magic run thick in blood, and sing when danger nears. AU; Slytherin!Harry

Warning: This story will contain aspects of slash. Love-at-first-sight is a common theme, one which will not be seen here. That kind of thing rarely happens, and Harry is still a child. There will also be mentions of other aspects which might be mentioned in this story, such as mentions of abuse. I will also be twisting a lot of which happened in the original to fit my own needs, so many things may not, and will not, match the actual books written by J. K. Rowling. As it stands, this is a retelling of Harry's life and how things could have changed if the events after his birth had not worked out the way they had in the original.

Disclaimer: The original belongs to the author J. K. Rowling. I am not making any profit from this story, and I will not claim it as my own. The only things that belong to me are any of the characters I create, the plot itself, and places I build. This is the only time I will post this.

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Rating: T

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Lightning flashed across the sky, sharp and relentless and as cold as the ocean green.

Peering out the widow, the sky dark with churning clouds, a small, raven-haired boy watched with eyes of neon green. Cat eyes, Shade called them. They were attentive, he said. That they saw everything, and nothing at all. Small hands curled into fists in the hem of his nightshirt, knuckles white as he watched the green light flash across the sky in various, blinding hues that hurt him to look at. He could hear something on the wind, something low and dark that laughed cruel laughter. Watching it from behind glass, in the warmth and dryness of 4 Privet Drive, Hadrian Potter knew his every flinch was illogical. He knew there were other things he had to fear, but he could not overcome the instinct that told him he should crawl under his covers.

Perhaps he was awake when he should have been asleep. He knew he was where he shouldn't have been, sitting in the kitchen staring out the window, but he was. Logic said he should be in his cupboard, the door locked, but he had felt the storm coming before the first booming rumble of thunder shook the ground. Shadows danced through the home, flickering and moving and churning in odd patterns, but his attention focused on the inky darkness closing in on the unwary and sleeping. Twisting, dropping to the ground from the counter he had stood on, he moved out of the kitchen and into the front-room. He could hear movement upstairs. The faint sound of conversation, of his cousin talking to Aunt Petunia, voice low and wobbly, drifted through the ceiling to his straining ears.

Hadrian dunked into his cupboard, the door closing behind him, and he curled up within the ratty blankets as images - "Alric," The boy turned, eyes bright as he eyed the shadowy figure standing in the doorway. It stepped into the room, and he was able to make out the shape of his mother. She paused at his shoulder, green emeralds observing the storm just outside his window as she murmured, "all things serve a purpose in the schemes of this world. Do you remember what I told you about duty?" - flickered behind his mind's eye. Hadrian frowned, brow furrowed, as he rolled over to observe the dark shadows of the ceiling. Images, they plagued his mind just as surely as the spiders rested in the rafters of his cupboard. Beady black eyes blinked down at him, the spiders still as the storm raged outside.

The boy, Alric, was open. Expressive. It was almost as if he could feel the boy's emotions as the scenes danced in the backdrops of his mind. Glimpses of a life outside of his own, worlds overlapping and intertwining could be observed in the distorted dream world he knew as the Fade. Sometimes he saw other families in those moments between the waking and the sleeping, homes filled with light and happiness. As he lifted his hand, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he rested his hand on the rafter, one daring spider scuttled forward to crawl upon his hand. He watched as the black body paused on the back of his hand as he turned the woman's question over in his mind, and mouthed the words in time to the boy in his mind's eye: "Ones duty is how one lives their life, a purpose to fulfill that's required because it is morally right."

Hadrian could feel it, just there, as he whispered the words to himself in the darkness of the night. He brought the eight-legged create down to himself, and let it crawl from his hand to his chest and neck. Hair sprawled around him, tangled and dusty, he smiled. Alric, the woman had called the boy. It was a good name, he mused. It was a simple name, unlike the mouthful of his own; Hadrian. His own name was three syllables, unlike the two the other had. Why not Harry instead of Hadrian? Harry was shorter. Simpler. It was easier on the tongue, and not as old sounding. He thought a king bore that name, once upon a time, though he wasn't sure if there were kings and queens now. Harry. The name soothed Hadrian's thoughts as he rested in the darkness, the world blurry and distorted and confusing.

As his eyes closed, thunder cutting through the silence, he could feel the impressions coming upon him as dreams - a faint smile pulled at her lips as she whispered her answer, "Do you know what my duty is?" - washed upon him. Hadrian thought it was an odd question. Surely this boy knew what a mother's duty was. He couldn't comprehend why she would ask her own son such a question. Such questions brought thoughts to him, fragmented images he had not a name for. They were often difficult to separate - "To provide a safe and stable home for the family?" Alric murmured as he pulled away from the window. He knew his mother was following as he made his way to his bed, her steps soundless as she answered, "That is true, but that is not my only purpose. Do you remember what I told you about your duty, one which may come to pass?"- from the physical world he lived within. Somewhere in the night, thunder boomed and the cracks of his cupboard were alight with the aftereffects of lightning.

The spider on his neck burrowed into his hair, the legs brushing against the sensitive skin beneath his ear. As he rested there in the dark, a black veil of hair fanned around him, he felt unconsciousness calling to him as Shade crooned to him from the depths of his mind. He could feel the Fade brushing against him, pulling his mind deep within himself, and he fought. He didn't want to sleep. He wanted to know about the boy's duty. What kind of responsibilities did Alric have? Did he clean and look after his home? Did that boy cook and wash? Did he tend to the garden, and did he have to fear the consequences of what would happen should he not act fast enough? There were many things - Alric nodded, his expression thoughtful as he said, "The hope and the Light of our world that vanquished the Dark Lord, the purity that burned him, will do so once again." - he did not understand when the Fade was brought into question.

Hadrian found himself frowning. What sort of evil being would be defeated twice by the same force that subdued them the first time? Sitting up, listening to the rumble of thunder and catching the spider in his hand, he listened. He wasn't certain of the arachnid's name or which family it belonged to, but he was more than comfortable holding it. Having lived with the creatures for as long as he could remember, he knew they that, had they any desire to hurt him, they would have made their own thoughts of him clear had they believed him unwelcome. Perhaps they understood Vernon's hostility of his nephew, and wished to share their den with anyone who harbored the large man's dislike. Hadrian wasn't sure, but he was thankful for their tolerance.

He felt a frown pulling at his lips. Brow furrowed, he wondered how the boy could believe so strongly that hope and light could be a godsend. Was he, perhaps, merely naïve? An answer like that spoke of their differences, and Hadrian wondered if the boy realized that there were others who lived a life that was a stark contrast to the one he knew. As he sat up, juggling the spider between his hands, a great many thoughts danced - overwhelming certainty was clear in her voice as she replied, "Nothing is stronger than love, Alric. Those who follow Light are those who protect the innocent, and they are the ones who preserve balance and ensure that our world survives to see tomorrow." - in an endless loop in his thoughts.

Curling up on his side, the spider cradled in his hand, a mirthless laugh bubbled in his throat. Naive indeed.

~oOoOo~

Mornings in 4 Privet Drive were no different than what one would find in any other home in Little Whinging, Surrey. Each house was a perfect structure of good standing, and the people friendly. There were no secrets, and those within the little neighborhood were comfortable in the eyes of those who watched them from afar. Milk and eggs found themselves before their selected homes by six every morning; breakfast was always at seven, and the paper on the doorstep thirty after. Life was comfortable, and it was routine. Life was normal, but Hadrian knew that every family, and every house, had their dark deeds. For what family did not have a few skeletons hidden in their closet?

In Little Whinging, in the esteemed home of the Dursleys, Hadrian knew he was the dirty secret. He was the blemish which stained the air, the darkness that inspired hate, and the taint which caused his relatives misfortune. As he stood in the kitchen, eggs in the process of being scrambled and bacon cooking on the side, the youth went over a mental checklist of chores and necessities he needed to complete by the end of the day. The usual had to be done: cooking, the dishes washed, dusting and everyday cleaning. A quick scan of the pantry and cabinets, and the refrigerator, told him he needed to restock the food if he was to prevent the Dursleys from starving to death. This meant he needed to approach Vernon for money, and the thought had him grimacing in distaste. He'd speak to Petunia first, and have her double-check the list he'd make to smooth over his uncle's irate temperamental tendencies.

He made himself scarce at breakfast, and went upstairs. Making the beds, picking up clothing, and making sure not to look too closely at them, Hadrian had already built a routine. He swept into his cousin's room, rearranged things, and crossed into the bathroom to make sure it had everything it needed before he made his way downstairs to repeat the action to the hallway and living-room. He could hear his uncle's bellowing talk as the mail slipped through the slot, and swept the various envelopes into his hands. Shifting through them, placing them in proper order as he toed open the utility room to fetch the cleaning supplies, he paused. He could still hear the Dursleys in the kitchen, and he eyed the door hiding him from view before returning his gaze to the letter staring up at him in a manner of taunting mockery.

It was unlike any letter he had ever laid eyes on. The lettering at the left bottom - ENCHANTED AGAINST UNAUTHORIZED OPENING - ensure a raised brow. He eyed the first word, enchanted, before eyeing the various other things written across the front. Several looked like stamp markings, and then his gaze shifted to the person it was addressed to: Mr. H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Staring at the letter, the heaviness of the envelope and size dwarfing the others, Hadrian found himself questioning who, exactly, sent this. Eyeing his living quarters, his supposed room, had his skin crawling and his stomach churning with distress. With unease.

"Boy!" Slipping the letter behind the cleaning detergent, setting the other letters in a small basket where he stored the sprays and cleaning clothes, he made his way back to the kitchen where he handed his uncle the letters and newspaper before picking up his aunt's empty plate. He could feel his cousin's eyes on his back, but he paid him no attention as he set the plate in the sink. Behind him, Vernon was muttering about pointless bills and people wasting his time.

"Dad," He heard Dudley say, and grit his teeth as his portly cousin asked, "can I have the boys over today?"

"I don't see why not." Vernon responded as Hadrian slipped out of the room, and he began his daily chores with a furrowed brow. Cleaning was second-nature, simple as breathing, and he went about it without thought as his mind turned to other problems. Namely a letter without a return address. He let his thoughts turn back to the other night, as other things - "Every person has a purpose, Alric." The woman was smiling, and she brushed his hair out of his face as she murmured, "Those who flee not the path before them are the ones who change the world." - flickered beneath the surface of his mind. It was, perhaps, the one thing Hadrian agreed with. Nothing happened without reason. There was action and there was reaction; A simple, unyielding truth which defined the heart of all things.

As he knelt, gathering reading materials off the table in the living room, the lady's words echoed in his head: "There will be a time when Darkness will come, and it will try to swallow this world whole. We are never alone, Alric. Someone will act as our guide, and see us through the Darkness lest it stripe us of our freedom."

~oOoOo~

There were many perks that came with living in the Dursleys, though Hadrian was reluctant to name them.

Racing across the park, the woods blurring and the people moving blobs of color, he knew one perk was survival instincts. The Dursleys demanded nothing less of perfect, and he had become accustomed to running from an early age. He had always been a lash quicker than his classmates in school. He had always been faster than Dudley and his gang. His mind was sharper, and, despite the hazy world surrounding him, he had learned to read the world, the places where he could dart away and lose his pursuers, from the shadows which curled lazily in plain daylight. Perhaps the others overlooked them, but he was pleased to see them when he was on the run.

Diving between two teenagers, one of them crying out in shock, Hadrian whipped around a corner and scaled the fence. Dropping to the ground, racing across the clearing, he entered the business section of the town with little thought of his cousin. Hopefully Dudley would leave him be now that the fence was in the way, and that his large cousin would return home. Slowing down, pausing at a crosswalk, he cocked his head to the side before turning when a sweet scent reached him. Following it, he found himself outside a café.

"That was quite impressive," He peered at the woman sitting next to the door, a glint of metal clipped to her shirt. An employee, he mused, and then she was handing him something that smelled rather mouth-watering. "I think that deserves an award. You're Hadrian, right?"

The raven-haired youth eyed the girl before he nodded, voice low as he asked, "I take it you have a sibling in school."

She laughed. "That I do. They're a year ahead of you, but they mention Dursley and his antics. From what they say, you give those boys a run for their money."

Biting into the muffin, sitting on the ground next to her with the shadows churning around him, he hummed in agreement. Pulling his braid over his shoulder, blinking as the light hit his eyes, he heard her say, "Though, I have to say that's a rather nasty scar you have there."

Hadrian reached up, his fingers brushing against the raised, silvery imperfection marring the tanned flesh from brow to opposite ear. He could remember the accident, the flash of green light moments before the car crashed, and the flaming pain. He traced it, and wrinkled his nose as he followed the path over the ridge before rubbing the tail of it under his right ear. Sometimes it still hurt, though he figured it was a phantom pain.

"Car accident," Hadrian told her a moment later, voice light as he added, "My relatives took me in after."

"Terrible, how things happen like that." The girl mused, her voice and thoughts a daze as she said, "One minute they're there, and the next they're not."

He sat there for a long while, and eventually she went inside to continue working but brought him out a small box of sweets and a bottle of water. Hadrian smiled in thanks before digging into the feast, mouth-watering, and relaxed against the stones to observe the passing cars. After some time, he rose and made his way back to the Dursleys. Slipping inside, he began his last half of his chores before putting everything away. He slipped the letter addressed to him into his pocket before crawling into his cupboard, tired and worn, but pleasantly happy with the day's events.

Holding the letter aloft, gentle laughter echoing in his mind, he hesitated. Sitting up, pressing his thumbnail under the wax, he broke the seal. Flakes of the red substance fell upon his lap, like dust from a desert storm, and he carefully pulled out the thick packet of letters folded within. Unfolding them, eyes scanning the contents, he swallowed. Flattening them out on his thigh, he stared.

Dear Mr. H. Rilind-Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts Academy, School of the Magi and established under the Circle of Merlin. Enclosed is a list of all supplies and books needed for the year. The start of the Term opens the first of September, and we await your reply no later than the first of August.

Yours,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Hadrian eyed his last name, gut clenching. Rilind. It brought the words of another, the soft and haunting lullaby that lurked under the flanging tones of another's vocals, to the surface of his mind when they had first met. It was a distorted memory, one which lingered - the wisp circled for a moment before dropping to the ground, a shape lunging out of the debris in the form of a large wolf. "Rilind, eh?" It circled him, the creature's eyes changing colors as it hissed, "Rilind, one of the Alta. What brings you to us, changeling?" - in the depths of his mind. It was a name he thought he would never have to hear again, but to see it on a letter, one addressed to him, was, without doubt, no accident. Whoever this Minerva McGonagall was, wherever this school was, he knew it was a place which held answers he sought.

There were none who were to know that name. None. To see it written on paper in elegant script, so intimately, was unacceptable. Yet, eyeing the words, he could not help but question how he was going to send an answering statement when the envelope itself held no return address. Pulling out the other papers, flipping through the pages and reading the contents, he scowled. No return address. No means of knowing how to send his reply.

Folding the letter, brow furrowed, questions circled.

Ending Note: For those who have reached this point, allow me to welcome you to 'Fade To Black: The Serpent and the Stone.' As I mentioned at the beginning, this is a retelling of Hadrian's life. Yes, his name is Hadrian. The reasoning behind this will be made clear in later chapters, so, for all intents and purposes, do not leave a trail of harsh comments about my choice of names. As I am the author of this story, and this being AU, I'm entitled to change his name as I see fit.

I had several thoughts, none which I will reveal, that inspired this story. However, I will warn you here: I do work with clichés, but I often like to twist them around to fit my own intents and purposes. There's a few things which may be confusing at first glance, but that, too, will be cleared up in the second or third chapter. If there are other clichés anyone knows of, don't hesitate to leave it in a review. However, anyone who is reading 'When Darkness Sings' will notice a few similarities between the two. It's just how it decided to work out in this, so, really, there's nothing to be said about that. Also, as a side-note, this little 'Ending Note' will not be at the end of every chapter. Unless there's something I need to point out, or credit due to another source, it will be listed down here. Can't have someone threatening to sue me, now can we?

Also, for those who may try to point out that something like this needs a beta, I already have someone who I am working with on this story. So, yes, I do have an editor who looks over each chapter before I post it here. Two pair of eyes are better than one, and, as it is, this will be a slow working story. 'When Darkness Sings' is the one I'll be working on the most, but I'm hoping to update this story every other week (perhaps every week should I have enough time).

Review!