Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. No Copyright Infringement intended.
Warnings: Language, AU, Non-cannon,
Notes: I'm sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes. Please review, favorite, and follow! Thanks for reviewing, and thank you so much for all of the support and the patient waiting. I'm currenty using Google Docs for writing my fanfiction. I hope you enjoy this chapter!
By the way, this is the starting point where the main plotline enters, I'm sorry if it seems a bit rushed but I was in a phase of writers' block when I wrote this chapter.
Love, dreams
This is not Beta'd so I'm sorry for any mistakes.
Ethereal
Chapter Nine
Hadrian groaned as he came to. He didn't collapse from a vision – no, it had to be because of his "reluctance to eat" according to Madame Pomfrey. She didn't care in his old timeline, why should she care now?
This led to him scowling sulkily as he was scolded by Hermione, Voldemort, Severus, the matron, Pierre, most of the Slytherins in his year, and his Head of House. Oddly enough, Lily and Luna didn't chastise him for skipping meals. To be honest, he'd spent his first eleven years of life scarcely getting any meals, spent his summers with half cold soup and moldy bread, then he was on the run for hunting Horcrux's barely scraping by with Hermione and Ron, and money was hard to come by during the war.
He was used to being hungry.
However, this thirteen-year-old body was used to full meals hence why he collapsed in Transfiguration, to his mortification.
Hermione bustled into the infirmary at four, cheeks flushed from running as she clutched a letter in her hands. The envelope had a coat of arms in the center of it. It was black with a dragon curling around a sword, nostrils streaming, with the words Fidelitatem in perpetuum (Fidelity forever). Hadrian didn't recognize the arms and asked Hermione who it belonged to.
She immediately cast silencio, muffliato, and other privacy charms only she, Hadrian, and Ron were privy to.
Hermione began to explain. "In our old world, the Weasleys were dirt poor and the Weasley family lost the title of Ancient and Noble some centuries ago, around the fifteen hundreds because the Heir of Weasley eloped with a half-blood when he was meant to marry Arista Malfoy – which also caused the blood feud between the two in our timeline, and they also spiraled into debt. However, in this timeline there was no elopement, no debt, and the House of Weasley kept their Ancient and Noble status along with their seats in the Wizengamot, their Manor and castles, etc. This is the Weasley coat of arms," Hermione finished. "Ron responded."
"Do you think he remembers he…" Hadrian said but trailed off, his throat closing.
Do you think he remembers he died?
"I…I don't know," Hermione swallowed. "I haven't opened it."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" Hadrian smiled before scooting over, allowing Hermione to sit down next to him, wiggling to get comfortable. They opened the envelope gently, pulling out the parchment in Ron's familiar scrawl (thought it was way neater than last time).
Dear Hermione, Hadrian,
I've been healing well, thank you for asking. Percy still shakes sometimes and uses a walking cane to support his leg and he has nightmares a lot. Anyway, the three long lost Weasleys have returned at last! Fred, George, and Ginny made their appearances late last night. I was still asleep but I heard it was quite the reunion. Percy, the twins, Ginny and I will be joining Hogwarts sometime in the next two weeks, though Percy might do some home-schooling at the Manor.
See you then,
Ronald Septimus Weasley
Son of House Weasley
P.S.
What do you swear?
Ron sounded all prim and proper and well-educated. Hadrian pointed his wand at the paper and whispered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
The previous words faded and new ones appeared.
Harry, Mione
If you're reading this then you've probably been sent back by Apollo or some other deity. Hades and Thanatos brought me back. I just remembered blackness after pushing Hermione out of the way of Bellatrix's killing curse, and then nothing. No one else seems to remember the war but I was "merged" with this Ron Weasley's memories. Suffice to say: what the bloody hell is going on? I find out I'm a Necromancer and I am a prodigy in Spell Creation when a few days ago I knew I was dead.
Love,
Ron.
Hermione and Hadrian let out breaths of relief. They weren't the only ones who came back – the Golden Trio had returned.
But there was still an echoing question: who else was brought back from their world?
Little Lord Revealed!
By Resident Reporter Ophelia Skeeter
My dear readers, it has come to my attention that two relatives of our Lord have been found! We all know the tragedy that occurred in Calpyso's Hills and the prominent school Nightingale Academy [page nine] – it just happens that one of the survivors, [Hadrian Roux], has been found to be, not only, Hufflepuff's Heir (son of the late prosperous Healer Grace Williams[see picture below]) but our Lord's nephew!
When learning that Mr. Roux was our Lords' nephew, a new question appeared in my mind: who is the father of this new little lord? I come bearing the news to the populous. Resident Potions Master, Second-In-Command, Lord Severus Snape-Prince [although he goes by Snape for the most part] has been discovered to be our Lords' little brother.
We all know the tale of the youngest child of Lady Merope and Lord Thomas Riddle [page six], and how their youngest son was kidnapped during a raid by the Renegades, led by Albus Dumbledore himself, never to be seen again.
All [hope] is not lost for our Lord and his family.
Stay tuned for more.
This reporter will not rest until their story is told.
For The Rise and Fall of the Renegades…see page 3
For Our Lords' Lineage…see page 6
For The Tragedy of Calypso…see page 9
For Lord Potter's Newest Crusade in the Wizengamot…see page 12
For Weasleys! Weasleys! Weasleys Galore! … see page 16
Hadrian sighed as he walked to his Common Room. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, why he was here. Apollo said it was where he'd be the happiest but what was the reason for bringing Hermione from her world? For stealing Ron from the dead? Was this just a plot from Eris, from Fate, from some other deity who lived to see him suffer and scramble in circles like a headless chicken?
"Hey – you!" someone called. "Roux!"
Hadrian turned his head but something black and dark rushed at him. He didn't see the attack coming and he slammed against the stone floor of Hogwarts. He felt her hum in panic at the assault but while Harry's heart raced, he didn't appear otherwise. The best thing to catch someone off guard was to act indifferent.
Something bound around his wrists, his ankles, and his waist. It tightened, burning his skin at the touch of the vile substance – it practically crawled over his skin, disrupting, corrupting.
The boy looked no older than seventeen – he wore the golden and red robes of Gryffindor.
He chuckled softly. "Oh, Roux. I'm so dreadfully sorry to do this to you."
You don't look sorry, you bastard…
Hadrian didn't say a word, just breathed in deeply and calmly, before he felt a pinch, saw a flash, and the gleaming ceiling of Hogwarts disappeared into a veil of darkness and slumber.
Hadrian groaned once he came to. He was tightly bound. He couldn't feel the presence of his wand at all but then he remembered that it was in his wand holster, and his entire body ached with the echo of pain. He felt – no, he knew that he was surrounded, being scrutinized by a crowd of people. The Renegades, maybe? Hadrian didn't know, wouldn't know, because there was a blindfold over his eyes.
"Is he awake?" he heard someone ask.
Molly Weasley…
"I don't know, Molly."
Minerva McGonagall…
"Well, someone should wake him up. Blasted boy is causing us too much trouble."
Alastor Mad-Eye Moody…
"Enervate," he heard the voice of Emmeline Vance chant. A horribly cold chill washed over Hadrian's body as he involuntarily jolted upright, even though he was already conscious. Hadrian stiffened.
"Where am I?" He whispered. "Who are you?"
"Don't fret, dear, we just want to ask you a couple of questions." He heard Molly speak in a soothing voice.
"Molly, he's a prisoner," came the sharp voice of Moody.
"He's a child!" protested Molly.
Hadrian sniffled, putting up the appearance of a small, innocent little boy who was terrified. His shoulders shook. His captors assumed it was trepidation but it was really laughter. They were pitiful kidnappers.
"At least McLaggen got something right," McGonagall muttered underneath her breath but Hadrian heard it all.
Cormac, the bastard...
"What do you want with me?" Hadrian asked quietly, timidly.
"A certain ally of ours wants to speak with you," McGonagall said, though her lips were pursed into a thin line.
Molly looked slightly angry. "I still don't see why you felt the need to tie him up so. He's a little thing, and a Hufflepuff – barely able to do much damage."
Oh, I can do a lot of damage…
For outward appearances, Hadrian appeared teary-eyed and frightful. Moody was smirking at him. He wasn't as paranoid as the Moody he knew him as. Molly was still overbearing and McGonagall was still her stern, no-nonsense self. Hadrian recognized Emmeline Vance, Hestia Jones, and a few more people. Dumbledore wasn't in the room at all, making Hadrian ponder.
"Why do they want to speak with me?" Hadrian inquired. "I'm no one special."
"You're the only survivor from the attack on Calypso's Hills and Nightingale," McGonagall said.
Something dark fluttered over Hadrian's eyes.
…darkness over taking him, engulfing him…white hot flames razed the towns…piercing cries from children, from adults, from the animals…he fell to the floor in agony, an unknown spell washing over him as it began to work… "HARRY! HARRY! HARRY!" …Hermione was shaking him, hands trembling, face ashen white…she fell…Ron fell…the sky bled with the blood of the fallen, the tears of the survivors…
Though Hadrian wanted to tell them he wasn't the only survivor – he didn't want to put the others in danger. It was painfully obvious that the Renegades didn't bother to submerse themselves in the Daily Prophet articles. That was the stupidest decision Hadrian thought someone could ever make.
Know thy enemy, he quoted in his head.
Hadrian shuddered. "Still, that doesn't explain why you want me."
"You are a very powerful child, Mr. Roux."
Hadrian turned his head to stare at Albus Dumbledore, with his twinkling blue eyes and outlandish robes that would cause a blind person to gawk at. Dumbledore smiled, benign, probably trying to ease Hadrian's palpable fear over being kidnapped and ambushed in a place where he was supposed to be the safest.
Hadrian blinked, tilting his head to the side. "Hello, and you are, sir?"
Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Albus Dumbledore, Hadrian. Now, I suppose you're wondering why you're in one of my warehouses?" at Hadrian's nod, he continued, "My accomplice wanted to speak with you about a couple of things."
"So you kidnapped me?" Hadrian said dryly.
Dumbledore chuckled again, though it was nervously this time. "I admit we were a bit rash but we didn't want you to say no. You see—"
"Who is this accomplice?" interrupted Hadrian. He felt a presence near him, comfortingly, as if telling him he was going to be found soon. Hadrian smothered his smirk.
…it won't be too long now…
His mental clock was ticking, beginning its countdown.
Dumbledore startled, unsuspecting of the interruption from the seemingly submissive and meek little boy. Molly Weasley – though was she still a Weasley? – narrowed her eyes. "Don't be rude," she chastised. "You do not interrupt your elders when they're speaking to you."
The presence was growing. They were near.
Hadrian blinked at her. She actually had the audacity to speak to him as if he were nothing more than a mere five-year-old child?
…1…2…3…
"Now," Hadrian whispered, which caused Hestia Jones – who overheard – to frown in befuddlement.
A second ticked by in Hadrian's mental clock.
The presence glowed.
Then, the wall exploded.
The Renegades blinked in shock, gaping. Even Moody looked startled and off guard through the swirling dust of debris. Hadrian grinned. "Honestly – it took you long enough." Ron and Hermione scowled at his kidnappers. Molly gasped when she saw one of her sons, her baby boys.
"Ron," she murmured softly, hand fluttering to her open mouth.
Ron glanced at his mother – no, his egg donor, and blinked indifferently. "Molly," he said before his eyes flickered to his bound friend. "Hadrian, why is it always you?"
Hadrian shrugged his shoulders but snapped. "If I knew, you think I'd always find myself in these positions?"
"Boys," Hermione softly chided. There was a small smile on her face and her eyes glistened. "Let's get back to the matter at hand, please." She turned her attention towards the Renegades. "You've kidnapped my friend."
Ron smiled darkly at the assembled crowd. "That was a very big mistake."
Kingsley Shacklebolt scoffed. "You're only children, third years by the looks of it, what can you possibly do?"
Regardless of the fact that they just blew up one of the walls…
Ron smirked before taking a slip of paper out of his pocket. The words scribbled onto the parchment were indecipherable, unknown, to anyone who hadn't practiced the art he was a prodigy in. "Summon," he murmured. "Bring forth Azlax."
Molly opened her mouth to speak but the air in the tense room shifted, swirled, as a woman of undecided age appeared out of no where. Instantly, wands were pointed at the female, spells at the tips of their tongues, but the dark haired Huntress simply smiled and said, "Why have you summoned me?"
"In case this leads to a fight," Ron said. "I want you to protect Hadrian Roux, Hermione Prewitt, and I at all costs. Cut down any threats that stand in your way. Please and thank you, Azlax."
Azlax purred, "It is my pleasure, little Necromancer."
The Renegades gasped and paled. In front of them was a breathing demon, a Huntress, known to all of being lethal and bloodthirsty, taking no prisoners and bathing in the blood of the fallen. Azlax grinned toothily as she smelt their fear.
The ropes binding Hadrian fell harmlessly to the floor and he stood, rubbing his wrists. "Shall we go?" asked Hadrian. Hermione and Ron nodded. Azlax had faded into the shadows, watching.
"Now, see here!" yelped Moody as he made a grab for Hadrian's wrist. His fingers touched Hadrian's skin and in the next split second, Azlax appeared, holding him up by his throat, crushing with ease.
"Hold this," Hermione said, holding out piece of paper, ignoring the fact that Moody was currently only seconds away from getting a crushed windpipe and, most likely, dying. Once Hadrian grasped it, Ron whispered, "Ancient," and they disappeared from the Renegade warehouse.
Unlike his previous years, Hadrian knew the proper ways to handle portkey traveling and landings. One had to start walking in place once the portkey was activated and moving so that you'd land on your two feet, albeit slightly dizzy from lack of momentum. Hadrian, Hermione, and Ron landed in a very familiar room. The walls and floors were wooden, one wall had a bulletin board on it, there was a round Cherry oak table with chairs to match, a rug was placed on the floor, and there were many posters and sketches of plans littering the walls. There were also boxes and crates filled with many objects.
They knew this place from their merging memories.
This was their hideout, dubbed "Safe Haven". It was protected heavily, much like Gringotts and Hogwarts. Hadrian plopped down on one of the chairs. Hermione bustled forth with a first aid kit, about to check him over.
"I'm fine," he said. "They didn't touch me at all."
Hermione pursed her lips, stared at him, but nodded and put the kit away.
Hadrian looked over at Ron. "How'd you know where I was?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "I sent a tracker after you, it was quite easy after that."
"And you didn't tell any adults, why?" inquired Hadrian.
Ron flushed. "Well, we didn't think of that. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, you know. I'm still getting used to the fact that we don't have to do any of this by ourselves anymore."
Hadrian nodded. He was still getting accustomed to it as well. Then Hadrian sighed. "How bad do you think Voldemort and Sna—Sever—my father are faring?" he stumbled whenever he spoke of his newest, supposed father. Hadrian scolded himself, get with the program, Harry…James Potter is not your father anymore. Get used to it.
"They're about to declare war on the Renegades," Hermione said from where she sat.
Hadrian looked thoughtful. "What happens if they do declare war?"
"Every single Renegade will be slaughtered mercilessly," Ron said. "No one holds any love for them. There might be riots with the stereotypical pitch forks and torches."
Hadrian blinked. "Are we going to wait to go back to Hogwarts?"
Hermione sighed. "It's best if we go now lest someone goes over their heads and sends an entire army on Dumbledore."
"That's not a bad thing," Ron quipped.
Hermione gave Ron a chilling glare. He ducked his head and Hadrian laughed. Merlin, he loved those two. "Hermione, how many elements do you currently possess control over?" asked Hadrian.
Hermione replied, "Only Water and Air. I don't trust myself to carry passengers alongside of me."
Hadrian asked, "Do you think you could fly to Hogwarts somehow and get some adults since we don't have a Floo connection—wait! I could make a portkey to Hogsmeade."
"Won't the Ministry get wind of an unauthorized portkey being made?" inquired Ron.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "They only get wind of it if it's in public places – the Safe Haven is under the Fidelus Charm with Percy as the Secret Keeper. We also have a multitude of wards lathering the place so if anything, if this place is somehow being monitored, they'd only receive a sharp ping of magic in the area. They can't distinguish what we're doing."
"I love magic," Hadrian grinned. He took out a quill from his pocket – odd that it was there, and with the Shrieking Shack in mind he murmured, "Portus," while tapping the quill with his wand. The wand glowed white before stilling, and Hermione and Ron grabbed onto it.
With a pull tugging on their navels, the world was a blur of swirling colors.
The Shrieking Shack didn't change in looks at all. There were still werewolf claw marks, still torn and shredded furniture, still broken windows. Hadrian slumped against Ron, exhausted. Sweat beaded his forehead. "Damn," he muttered. "That took a lot out of me."
Hermione dusted herself off. "Of course it did," she said studiously. "Our Magical Cores are no longer those of full adults. We're thirteen now, Harry, no where near our inheritances on our seventeenth birthdays. A strong spell like that would exhaust – and partially drain – your magical core."
"Don't remind me," Hadrian moaned. Ron wrapped his arm around his best friend's waist, supporting him.
"Come on," Ron said. "Let's get back to the castle. Hadrian – I can carry you on my back. You know – like a piggy back ride? I doubt you want to be carried bridal style."
Mumbling something incoherent underneath his breath, Hadrian nodded his head and was soon hoisted on Ron's back, his arms around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist. They began the long trail to Hogwarts – towards home. Hermione played with the wind while they walked, relishing in the childhood innocence that was bestowed on her by returning. Ron's mind was in a whirl. He pondered on how his family was taking his abrupt disappearance.
Ron sighed – maybe he shouldn't have rushed out of the Manor as if someone was chasing him, someone with the sharp knife of death. He prepared himself to get swarmed by gingers once he stepped foot onto Hogwarts grounds.
They approached the castle gates. The sun was dipping behind the trees. Hadrian was snoring on Ron's shoulder – making the portkey truly did drain him. Hermione shared a look with Ron, and they both sucked in deep breaths, preparing themselves for the inevitable.
Hermione raised her hand to tug onto the wire metal gates when they heard, "MY LORD – I FOUND THEM – I FOUND 'EM – THEY'RE BY THE CASTLE GATES!"
Hermione and Ron squared their shoulders as they saw people rushing towards them, an influx of redheads. Hadrian snorted. The gates opened by a burst of wind, and the Golden Trio was instantly surrounded. Hermione grabbed Ron's arm so she would be grounded in case a panic attack would rise.
Hadrian groaned and muttered, "…butterflies…" before falling back into his comatose state.
Ron tried his best not to gape as Severus Snape bustled forth to take Hadrian from his – well – his back. "Is he alright?"
"We believe his magical core is depleted," Hermione mumbled as her blood adopted father held her close. There were gasps ringing all around before the two were bustled into the castle, towards the Hospital Wing. Of course, their protests of being fine were ignored, and they were given stern looks.
Madame Pomfrey and Professor Bauer cast a spell at them, allowing them to see if there were any medical issues that had to be attended to.
"What happened?" interrogated Lord Voldemort once the excitement had all died down.
"Yes – why did you two rush out of Hogwarts and the manor respectively as if you were a bat out of hell?" demanded Arthur Weasley. Ron tried not to visibly shrink in his seat.
Hermione and Ron both shared a long look with one another before sparing a glance at Hadrian's sleeping form. Well – it was now or never.
"We have a bond with one another," Ron started to explain. "It's nothing too deep. We can feel if one is in danger or is feeling an intense emotion, and we can find out their direct coordinates."
They gawked at the three of them.
"The bond has always been there," Hermione said. "Ever since we met during that Open House thing in first year at Nightingale,"
Even in their other world, that bond was there though not in the beginning of it all. They never knew why or what, in fact even Hermione was alright with the unknown bond – so long as it wasn't harmful to their persons. Apollo's decision to bring them into another world simply enhanced the bond in many ways, so to speak.
"These two are fine," Professor Bauer informed. "Only Hadrian must stay overnight."
Arthur and Gideon both shared a look before staring at their young children. "We need to have a talk about you two rushing into danger," Gideon said sternly, causing the two thirteen-year-olds to squirm at being scolded.
Neither was looking forward to the conversation. Not at all.
