Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
WARNING: This story contains dark and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander Dantes walked through the portal that led to non-magical London, his trunk nowhere to be seen, and a harsh look his face. The crowds of Hogwarts students and their families parted for him like the sea before Moses, most unaware that they even moved until they bumped into someone or something else. The air was almost palpable with fear and horror, and the reason was simple.
Every inch of Alexander's exposed skin was covered in vicious, almost-healed wounds. Each were sealed shut with muggle stitches, barbaric to even think about for the witches and wizards on the platform. The pattern on his neck and arms indicated that the wounds covered the rest of his body. Were anyone on that platform to describe the injuries to someone who wasn't there, they'd claim it was as if Alexander's skin had been shredded to pieces, before being poorly stitched together by an overly enthusiastic child. It was horrifying.
Due to the ease at which the occupants parted, Alexander quickly made his way onto the Hogwarts Express and seated himself in an empty compartment. He wasn't alone long.
"What happened to you?" Daphne Greengrass demanded as she rushed into the compartment. Her sister, Astoria, and best friend, Tracey Davis, followed closely behind her.
"Daphne, Tracey, Astoria," Alexander greeted each with a polite nod, but his voice made the three girls flinch. It was hoarse, as though he had screamed far too much. "I hope you had a pleasant summer."
His polite comment sent alarms off in each of their heads. Daphne placed a gentle hand on his wounded arm, feeling the horrifying stitches on underneath, and it proved to be the tipping point for Alexander.
He began to laugh and cry, and it sounded quite demented to the three girls. Tracey quickly cast a silencing charm on the compartment and closed the blinds so that no one would come across the odd sight.
"Sorry," Alexander said in a watery voice, "but I think you can guess I've had an awful summer. It started with my family being murdered."
The three girls were shocked into silence.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
It happened a week after Alexander arrived home. The family was enjoying each other's company on Jack's eleventh birthday, choosing to have a simple night in this year. Jack and David were busy playing with the former's new video game, an item that proved fascinating to Alexander and had him questioning his father, Adrian, about electronics.
A knock on the door surprised everyone, but Alexander's mother, Cynthia, answered it. She gasped softly, alerting Alexander and Adrian something happened but walked back into the living room under her own power. Something about her eyes seemed off to Alexander, her smile too fixed. He realized what was wrong the moment five men wearing robes and skull-like masks walked into the room.
Alexander surged to his feet, but one of the men was faster, flicking his wand up. "Crucio!" the man shouted. Alexander found himself writhing on the ground, unable to stop himself from screaming at the pain. The curse ended a moment later, but the pain lingered, digging in deep.
"Alex!" Adrian shouted. He didn't seem to know what to do. "What did you do to my son?"
The men laughed. "Just a little taste of the Cruciatus Curse, don't fret. We brought plenty enough to go around."
The pain started up again, but this time the cries of Alexander's family echoed him. Alexander slowly unclenched his eyes to find one of the men standing above him. "Cheer up, little Mudblood. You're not the only magical in your family!" he said, dropping a Hogwarts letter on his face. Despite the pain coursing through his body, Alexander could clearly read Jack's name on it.
"No," Alexander said, desperately hoping that his brother wouldn't experience the same fate he had his first year. He felt sick when he realized it was from far kinder compared to what was happening now.
Another wave of pain followed only this time it wasn't the Cruciatus. Jinxes, hexes, and curses hit Alexander and, judging by the pained screams around him, also his family. He tried to focus through the pain, but couldn't. An utterly unknowable amount of time passed Alexander by.
"Aw, I think mine broke," one man said minutes, or maybe hours later.
"Mine did. Didn't even get to try out the fun curses on it," another replied.
"I might have cursed mine too much. She snapped her own neck," another one said. Alexander couldn't help the sob that escaped him.
A wand poked him in the face. "Mine's still got some life in him. Let's make him kill his father!"
"It's on its last legs, might as well grant it some mercy!" All five men laughed uproariously.
"Imperio," a voice said. Alexander found that the pleasant haze of the curse counteracted the pain of his torture enough that he could focus. With his focus brought fresh horrors to his mind, though.
His mother lay in front of him, her limbs and neck bent at wrong angles. Next to her lay Jack, eleven years old and dead, as would anyone who missed that much of their throat. David was nailed to the wall behind him, limp and unmoving. And Alexander's father, a man whose strength had never faltered or failed his family, was tied to the staircase with barbed wire, one eye plucked out, and the other swollen painfully shut.
"Please, help my family," Adrian begged, his mumblings ignored by the five men. They were focused on Alexander.
"Get the Mudblood up, Hilliard," one of the men in the back ordered.
"Shut up, Duny, this is harder than it looks."
Hilliard. Duny. The names were familiar, and the voices even more so. With a sickening feeling in his gut, Alexander realized who two of these men were. His childhood tormentors returned.
"How do you expect the be a Death Eater if you can't even force one Mudblood to obey your will?" Duny asked. As Alexander's tortured mind and body warred with pain and the Imperius Curse, he could see his father's lips; he could read the words he mouthed.
Fight, Alexander. Fight.
The lips went still, and Adrian's body went limp. Alexander felt focus return to him, overpowering his pain with rage and grief, and all of it directed at the men in front of him. He looked at the man he knew to be Duny.
"Very funny, Hilliard, now get a move on," Duny said.
"What are you talking about? I'm trying to get him to move over to the muggle!" Hilliard protested. "Move you stupid Mudblood!"
"No thanks," Alexander rasped, making all four men in front of him flinch. And then he jerked his hand in front of him.
A piece of banister broke off and flew through the air toward Alexander. It made no pause as it entered Duny's back, ripping through his chest, and sending blood, bone, and muscle everywhere. Before the improvised weapon could hit Alexander, it stopped in front of him, turning to point at Hilliard. In less than a blink of an eye, it was impaled through the Pure-blood's throat. Both men fell to the ground.
The remaining Death Eaters raised their wands and began to launch spells. Alexander flipped the coffee table in front of him with magic, using it to block the spells at the expense of the wood. A heartbeat passed before he banished the wooden fragments at the Death Eaters, distracting them thoroughly from what Alexander did next:
He snapped their necks.
His magic burned, angry and furious, through him. It latched on to the two men, lifting them into the air by their necks before twisting, ending their lives with far more mercy than they offered their victims. They collapsed to the ground.
Alexander screamed in pain as barbed wire wrapped itself around him, from head to toe. The metal sliced into him repeatedly, and the pain was so great he lost his balance and crashed to the floor, driving some of them deeper.
Alexander had forgotten the fifth Death Eater, who was cunning enough to use the deaths of his friends as a distraction. "I don't know how you did that, Mudblood, but you'll pay for it with your life!" he spat, raising his wand.
But Alexander's rage and magic were not as bound as his body. He roared, uncaring of the pain, uncaring of the torment he'd experienced thus far, and flung every bit of magic he had at the Death Eater. It smashed into the unprepared wizard with the force of a bull, throwing him against the wall with a brutal crunch. But before the wizard hit the floor, his body, and the bodies of his companions, vanished in a whirl of magic.
Alexander's head fell to the ground as the pain hit him once more. He thought he could hear frantic voices calling for an ambulance, but then everything faded black.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
"I woke up in a non-magical hospital a few weeks later. The police were understandably very interested in what happened, so I made it seem like it was gang activity," Alexander explained. The Hogwarts Express rocked softly around them, as they sped their way to Hogwarts.
"Alex, I'm so sorry," Daphne said, clutching his hand tightly within her own. He gently squeezed her back.
"Thank you," Alexander sighed. "Because of my age, the courts gave me the option of emancipation. I took it. It was an easy choice considering I spend most of the year at a boarding school in Scotland."
Money had never been an issue. His parents both worked and left tidy sums behind, but Alexander would never have to work a day in his life if he didn't want to. The Philosopher's Stone was capable of transmuting lead into gold, as well as other minerals into other, more precious metals.
As for taking care of himself? He had done that for years at Hogwarts. It was almost as if it were some cruel training so that he would be prepared for the worst moment of his life. Alexander tried to ignore the bitterness from that thought and focused on the present.
Astoria and Tracey were looking at him in horror but sympathy. He briefly wished he had asked Astoria to leave, that the third year wouldn't have to hear about the terrors that haunt their society, but realized she was probably already aware.
She was in Slytherin, and the house was never going to be very kind.
Still, it was understandable when the pair made their excuses and left, leaving him alone with Daphne. He squeezed her hand and marveled at how soft it was.
"Sickle for your thoughts?" he asked. She gave him a half-hearted glare.
"My thoughts are worth at least a Galleon," Daphne said snobbishly, her nose pointed upward mockingly. Alexander smiled only slightly at the joke. "My parents are worried."
A pit of dread formed in Alexander's belly. "What about?"
"Me. Us. My family. I told my mother and father about you when I arrived home. They were concerned, especially since several Dark Wizards have written to them, requesting a meeting. They're worried that my association with an," her face twisted unpleasantly, "undesirables, could bring tragedy upon our family."
As much as Alexander wished to hate her parents, to deny that anything would go wrong, he only had to think back on what happened to him the past few months. Which made what he was about to do, all the more painful. "I think they're right."
Daphne's head whipped around so sharply that her hair flicked his face. "What?" she asked dangerously.
He held his hand in front of her, showing one unblemished side before flipping it over, shoving off dozens of stitches. "This is what happens, Daphne."
"I don't care about the scars," she angrily retorted.
"And I don't either," Alexander replied. "But I don't want to see you being hurt because of me. I would rather experience it all over again than have it done to you."
Daphne was silent for the longest time. "Sometimes, I hate you. Always the hero, aren't you?"
Alexander swallowed painfully. "Not always."
"I'm sorry, that came out wrong. You're always willing to fight, to defend others, aren't you?"
"I will bear the costs, so they don't have to," he whispered, stroking her hand softly.
She sniffed. "I'm not letting you break up with me."
Alexander gave Daphne a sad smile. "We must." She only shook her head.
"You need to think like a Slytherin. We won't publicly date. But you're crazy if you think I'm going to let you go, Alex."
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "Thank you, Daphne."
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander looked at the Thestrals that pulled the Hogwarts carriages and found himself hating the beasts. They had done him no wrong and were, in fact, quite docile, but the requirements needed to see them were still raw in his mind.
Daphne had joined her sister and friend in another carriage, leaving Alexander alone with his thoughts. He agreed with her plan, having no wish to be parted from her company, but realizing it was far too dangerous for both of them if they were seen together. Daphne trusted Astoria and Tracey to keep a secret, and Alexander trusted Daphne. That was enough in his mind.
But as Alexander sat down for the Start-of-Term Feast, he made a point to sit with his back to the Slytherin table. He didn't want to spend the entire meal looking at her from afar, so close yet so far, unable to bridge the gap between them. He was not a fan of torture.
There was another new face at the staff table this year, a squat woman covered in pink. Were it not for her unfortunate face Alexander would say she looked like a cupcake. As it was, she looked like a toad, a description that only felt more true when she opened her mouth to interrupt Dumbledore.
What followed was almost not worth paying attention to. A government supposedly concerned with falling educational standards, a representative sent to keep things on track. The witch, Professor Umbridge, was a Pure-blood in a society built for Pure-bloods. She would never hold his respect, only his contempt. Alexander vowed to avoid her as much as possible.
The feast proceeded after that, and Alexander pushed his food around on his plate, no real appetite to speak of. The roasted boar reminded him of the grisly scene of his family's murder, and bile rose from within. Disgusted, Alexander pushed the plate away.
One of the other Ravenclaws tried to talk to him. "What happened to your face?" a third-year asked. Alexander vaguely recognized her from the previous year, one of the Ravenclaws he taught an animation charm to. "Does it hurt?"
Biting back the unpleasant response lingering in his mind, Alexander shook his head. "No. Not anymore."
She nodded. "Are you going to see Madame Pomfrey to heal them? She healed my cut last year, see?" She held up a hand where nothing could be seen.
Alexander looked at her unblemished skin for a long moment. He could wipe his scars away with magic, make it seem like he had never been injured.
"Perhaps."
As soon as the word left his mouth, Alexander knew he wouldn't. The scars were his. They were a reminder and would always be a reminder of the day he failed his family. No amount of magic could wipe that away.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander was surprised by how entertaining Professor Umbridge's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was. The book she assigned was trash, and the lack of practicals promised a boring year of substandard theory. But then Harry Potter was thrown into the mix.
The Gryffindor lived up to the standards of his house. He seemed to be incapable of keeping his mouth shut, mouthing off to the professor and repeatedly stating that You-Know-Who was back. Barely five minutes into class and Potter and Umbridge were butting heads. It proved far more entertaining than Quidditch ever was.
Still, Alexander was grateful that he had his disguised tablet. He should probably name it. A Library Pad? Infopad? Magipad? None sounded right to Alexander, perhaps he would just stick with tablet. It was, after all, a stone square.
He flicked through a list of the available texts, wishing he could search through, or at least organize, them. But both functions were still beyond him at the moment. There were not insignificant gaps on the list as it was, the spots once filled by the non-magical books kept in his home. That stone had failed during the summer though, and Alexander never got around to replacing it before the Death Eaters attacked.
Despite Potter's unsubtle tactics, Alexander did believe him. Fourteen years of peace, with not a single sighting, gone mere weeks after Potter returned proclaiming the Dark Lord returned? It was far too coincidental. That other attacks hadn't been announced didn't mean much, Alexander knew how easy it was to conceal things with magic.
Alexander shook himself. He needed a distraction. He wished he could grab Daphne and drag her to the library, but that would only bring trouble upon them both. He drummed his fingers on his tablet in thought.
He did have that idea for creating a runic alphabet. He could write out runes in his blood, speaking the translations over them while infusing them with magic. Alexander had no idea if it would work, but reasoned it would be easier than slaughtering a few million people to create one. But he lacked the space that would no doubt require, as well as runes and words to make it happen. He drummed his fingers on the tablet again.
He supposed that could be his focus this year. It would be time-consuming creating a language from scratch, as well as letters to use as runes. It would be foolish to use English after all; then everyone could use it. He tapped his fingers again before allowing his hand to still on his tablet.
Alexander had for years feared the use of Expansion Charms, terrified of them imploding or possibly twisting upon themselves, cutting off the expanded space and trapping him forever. There was no enchantment, rune, or method to stabilize the space, so he could create one. He didn't need a full language, not yet, he just needed a handful of runes.
When the bell rang, Alexander was the first one out the door.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
It took Alexander weeks longer than he expected to even come up with the design for the new rune and to realize a possible, and dangerous, side effect.
The rune he devised was a carefully chiseled cube, containing a hollow square within the center, with a hole drilled to the inner cube at every corner. The rune carving spells they learned in Ancient Runes were surprisingly flexible, but Alexander made sure that the holes all went to the correct spot with several spells. There was no room for error, after all.
The tesseract, which was what the stone cube was, was chosen for a single reason: Namely that it would be incredibly unlikely for any witch or wizard to understand or even know what it was. The likelihood of them accidentally empowering it would be lowered even further, as it needed to be powered from the inside out. Or at least, that's what Alexander hoped to happen.
He was hoping that by using a three-dimensional rune that others would not accidentally stumble upon it and wreck havoc. It was then that Alexander realized a possible side effect, one that could be terribly dangerous.
Standard Expansion Charms would expand an interior until the magic became unstable, which was where a normal enchanter would put walls or barriers of some sort to keep people from wandering in and disappearing. If Alexander's rune worked correctly, then the Expansion Charm would never theoretically destabilize, or at least, not destabilize until much further. While this was fantastic news, it also meant that he might create an infinite space inside a finite object. The difference in air between the two could mean there was a genuine chance that Alexander could suck a decent portion of the atmosphere into the infinite space, killing everyone.
He'd like to avoid that, if possible.
So he created another three-dimensional rune, with three spikes meeting at a rounded cap. The three spikes pointed out from one another, that when paired with seven more, they'd create a boundary that nothing could move past, thus preventing an infinite space. Alexander made the lines and curves as unnatural as possible but reasoned that without eight of the runes in one place, nothing horrible would happen. Hopefully.
Which left him the task of figuring out how to empower his new runes. As Alexander played one day with the Lesser Stone, what he had taken to calling Flamel's original Philosopher's Stone, he realized that he didn't need to pour buckets and buckets of blood onto the new runes to create them, he just needed to harvest the magic and blood already within the stone in his hand. Alexander just had to figure out how.
After he talked to Daphne, of course. He missed her.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
Alexander found Daphne in the Great Hall, standing with a bunch of other students, as they watched Argus Filch hammering a small plaque into the wall. Considering she was standing next to a Hufflepuff, Alexander reasoned it would be safe to approach.
"What's going on?" he whispered as he stepped beside her. She didn't even turn her head as she replied.
"Filch is putting up another one of Umbridge's Educational Decrees," she whispered back.
"Another?" Alexander belatedly realized there were already half a dozen small plaques hammered into the wall. "When did that happen?"
Daphne turned and gave him an incredulous look. "I know you Ravenclaws like to focus on your studies, but you can't tell me you haven't noticed how miserable she's made the castle?"
Alexander shrugged. "As opposed to how miserable the castle makes me?"
Her face tightened slightly. "Let's meet up tonight. I don't think being alone is good for you right now, Alex."
Alexander almost let a sarcastic retort slip from his lips but swallowed it. Daphne had been nothing but kind to him and did not deserve that kind of response. Instead, he nodded as Filch moved away from the wall. Reading the new decree, he jerked his chin at it. "Looks like we'll be breaking the rules to do it."
"Oh, come on!" Daphne protested. Many of their fellow students joined in. "Boys and girls are not to be within six inches of each other? What kind of nonsense is this?"
"Standards have fallen far in Hogwarts, Ms. Greengrass," a sickly sweet voice from behind said. The crowd turned to see Umbridge smiling at them. "Now, I'll let you off this one time as the rule was just posted, but don't let me find you violating it in the future!"
Daphne and Alexander shared a look. They'd talk tonight.
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
"Aren't we supposed to be talking?" Alexander asked. The pair were in the classroom he first helped Daphne cast wandless magic in. Underneath him, Daphne whined and pulled his lips back to her neck.
"I don't want to," she breathlessly said as Alexander kissed one tender spot. Her hands pulled at his hair, keeping his mouth in place. The two teenagers were occupied for a few more minutes before they reluctantly parted.
"Is it just me, or is it hotter knowing we're breaking a bunch of ridiculous rules?" Alexander asked as they cuddled on a cushion. He had Mopsy the House Elf bring it to the room for this express purpose.
"I'll hold off on thanking the wicked witch of the Ministry," Daphne said. Alexander began to laugh. "What? What's so funny?"
"Wicked witch of the Ministry. Reminded me of an old movie. The villain was the Wicked Witch of the West," Alexander explained. Daphne wrapped her arms around him and snuggled into his chest.
"What's a movie?" she asked. Alexander frowned.
"I suppose you could liken them to enchanted paintings if the paintings told an epic tale. And not just about things that happened, but about things that never were," Alexander tried to explain in concepts the Pure-blood witch in his arms could understand.
She nodded. "They sound like pensieve. I'd like to see a movie," she murmured as Alexander began to stroke her hair. The lay there for quite some time, lost in their thoughts, and enjoying the moment.
"What did you say, Daphne?" Alexander suddenly asked, his hand stilling.
"I want to see a movie," she murmured tiredly. It was quite late.
"No, before that. What's a pensieve?"
She groaned and tried to burrow into his side. "They're runic bowls that hold memories. They allow you to store and relive memories, either by playing it out before you or immersing yourself in it."
As his hand returned to stroking Daphne's hair, Alexander became very excited about pensieves. "How many memories can they hold? How detailed are the memories?"
Daphne gave a half-hearted shrug. "How many thoughts are in your head? How vivid are your memories? Why are you so interested, going to make one?"
Alexander pulled her close and held her tightly. "Yes. Yes, I am."
Magic Break Can't Be Seen
AN: Start of Year Five.
I hope you're all enjoying the story!