SUMMERY: In the future Harry was given the choice to go back and do his life over. Speaking to snakes, jumping across rooftops, socializing with half-demons and purebloods, and having a best friend who lived in a magical diary wasn't the most normal of childhoods. Now eleven and entering his first year of Hogwarts, Hadrian must live each day as two people. A Gryffindor, 'Potter' and a Slytherin, 'Prince'. He...might not have thought this through.

Rating: M (-seriously, note that. If I get a flame later on because you see some shit you don't want to see I am going to mock your intelligence and your reading level. Harshly. I may even call your mother names and insult your manhood.)

Warnings: Violence. Mental and emotional abuse. Emotional manipulation. Characters with flexible morals. A Harry encouraged from a young age to think independently and form his own opinions. Other magical schools. Demons and magical creature culture. Pureblood politics. Verbal Sparing. Possessed diaries. Cunning criminals. Time travel.

AN: Third chap up for you guys, getting back to my long chaps now. Sorry for the wait guys, had RL to tend to. Darn it anyway huh? Don't forget to comment and let me know what you think. Some information I slip into this chapter is important later on, end of hint.

-Pseudonymous

In the end everything collides

My childhood spat back out the monster that you see

...Be careful making wishes in the dark

After three days of talking about nothing but Harry Potter the conversations between Prince and Tom took a sudden turn.

In your opinion, who won the war? The lighr or the dark? The good guys or the bad guys? What is good? What is wrong? What defines 'dark'?

The good guys did. The light...didn't they?

Didn't they? Who's opinion is that?

Hadrian paused before answering.

The history books I guess. The general opinions of the light. I guess I don't really know how to answer your questions.

He paused again.

Many people died who didn't have to, all over a difference of opinion. If a compromise can be made it should be made. I...I don't think anyone won. Nothing was decided. Nothing was solved. And people died anyway. For nothing. Because their deaths solved nothing.

I believe there isn't a clear definition between right and wrong because it depends on your perspective too much of the time. I think it comes down to a large grouping of various sentient creatures on this planet and their choices. What makes them right or wrong depends on why they chose them, wether they made any difference and whether the consequences were worth it in the end.

Callahan sat before Ambriel and grinned at her.

"Alright. Tell me a story."

Violet eyes glimmered with something he couldn't define.

"Alright."

Once upon a time there lived only the manifestation of magic and her gods and her demons and angels and her three virtues who were the highest ranking of the angels. The virtues were three beings you might call Jinn. They were two brothers and a sister called Arcana who was the Virtues of Balance, Understanding and Truth. They gathered together the strings of fate and saw visions of the future which they reported back to magic it's self and to the Gods.

Arcana watched the Gods playing with lives of the mundane world far below them and she felt a stirring in her heart. In her in sympathy she stole the secret of knowledge which belonged to the Gods and brought to the people of the earth, giving them magic and all that comes with it. In a rage the God banished her to a human body and sentenced her, as punishment, to live among the people she loved so much and get to know them. To make it more interesting for them, they stole her words away, leaving her silent.

This plan backfired on the Gods spectacularly because they didn't count on her saving the life of a Demon king and that same Demon falling in love with her. Against the God's wishes she became pregnant with a child. The Gods foresaw this would be a great warrior and the future Emperor of armies that would bring down fire on the heavens and wage war with the Gods themselves. The possible repercussions this would have on the balances of time and fate frightened the Gods and they saw the child as even more of a threat than the mother had been

To Punish the Demon King they forced the spirit of the child to be a daughter rather than a Son and took the life of Arcana after she gave birth to the child. However, as everyone knows, there are consequences for our choices, even the choices of Gods.

The child was born immortal under the Gemini constellation, bearing powers of her father and of her mother. In fear for his daughter's life the king sent her away to live among the mundane world, hoping she would be safe from the Gods there. But the magical people of the mundane world betrayed her and bound her to them forever, leaving her unable to reach the heavens and return to her family and unable to truly belong on the earth. Forced to walk among the people her mother loved and yet never be one of them.

When she stopped talking Callahan looked up at her.

"If you truly wish to know why Albie and myself uh ...dislike... each other as we do, your answer lies within."

"You realize I will spend the rest of the week not sleeping in an attempt to research this story and gain some sort of insight from it?"

She shrugged. "My uh moral compass tends to spin aimlessly in that questionable gray area between 'generally agreed upon to be right' and 'ooh cookies'."

He sighed. "In other words, you couldn't care less."

"In other words." she agreed.

Prince and Potter learned nothing from their stunt in Potions. One might think they would connect their competitiveness with their horde of rabid followers, but, as both, though their own person, were in fact still intimate pieces of Hadrian, they had inherited the pieces of his personality he'd learned from Lady. As such, it would never occur to Hadrian to be anything but the best, even if that meant competing against himself to earn the title. It didn't stop at Wingardium Leviosa or Draught of Peace either.

When the first year Slytherin and Gryffindor students met for their first flying lesson they were far amiable than any other group of first years from those two houses then Madam Hooch had ever before had the opportunity to see. She should have expected it really. Class began as normal the quickest and cleverest chose the best broom and spots closest to the outside, the rest made do with what they were given.

Both Prince and Potter's brooms rose to their hands upon the words 'UP" leaving their mouths. Both had the same perfect grip. Both swung their legs over and mounted their brooms with synchronized precision. And when that Longbottom boy rose into the air, lost control of his broom and dangled before the terror stricken teacher from the very edge of cloak high on the battlements, both Prince and Potter swished into the air. As though they had rehearsed this moment for months they flew, quickly, and caught the boy by either of his hands just as his cloak ripped. When his rememberall then fell from his pockets they gave everyone a heart attack. Hands released the Longbottom boy who suspended in the air for the slightest of moments. They dived, flat against their brooms, hands out stretched. Clasping the small glass orb inches from the ground. After a feat like that it shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did when they then rose into the air in a flash and swung under their brooms, hanging on by their legs and caught the boy again before he could strike the earth.

The story was all over the school in ten minutes.

And when they cornered and took down a mountain troll Halloween night without a scratch to either of them, the school found out about and gossiped bout and argued about that as well. Of course the boy's official story was 'allegedly' as no one could prove they'd had anything to do with it. Regardless of the increase of house points. And their sweaty faces upon their return to their common rooms much later than that of the rest of the school. They would only smile and shrug as though it weren't suspicious and really obvious. They were irritating that way. It brought with it more comparisons, how can two people with different personalities and friends and habits be so in tuned with one another?

That even also marked the first meeting between Hadrian and Albus Dumbldore. Or Dumbledore and Potter if one wanted to be specific...and accurate. Through Potter's eyes he saw the man as just friendly enough, just witty enough and just a bit off enough to make him nervous in way he didn't understand. Although the man seemed alright actually, through Potter's eyes anyway, there way something about him they gave Hadrian the feeling of deja vu. The way he avoided talking about things he didn't desire to talk about. The way he tilted his head and smiled genially and gave mysterious answers to rather straight-forward questions. It would do him well, he decided in the end, to pay close attention to the headmaster. Of course the school didn't know any of that, only that they had met and that the headmaster had, apparently, snubbed Prince. Which led to a fabulous uproar.

Hadrian learned a valuable lesson. Wizards took being a part of something very seriously and would defend their associated group's honour with whatever methods they deemed necessary. Even when said wizards were between the ages of eleven and seventeen. Even when said groups were made up teams concerning the superiority of one specific first year over that of one other specific first year. Even if both boys involved did not in fact have any interest in the rivalry themselves. Hadrian, running through the halls, Draco beside him, breath panting, shoes squeaking, wondered, idly, if this was how wars were started in the wizarding world.

They had intended on visiting the library ("Again Prince? Knew you should have been a bloody Ravenclaw!") when the entire school, on some unheard signal, decided to go utterly mad. No one knew for sure how it was started, only that one thing lead to another and now Hogwarts was playing host to the largest scale prank war anyone had ever seen. Between team Prince and team Potter. Even though neither of them had any say in the matter.

Jinxes were triggered. Chairs disappeared. Hair colour changed. Suits of armor were charmed to follow members of the opposing team and recite to them the virtues of their enchanter's chosen team. Unfortunately the suits of armor only knew if you were on an opposing team, or apparently unaffiliated, and not who you were. Which was how Prince and Draco got chased by five, thundering, suits of armor down the hall. Neither of the boys were involved in the insanity.

The suits of armor found that insulting, it would seem.

"You know, this was just how I wanted to spend my day. Not studying or playing outside or any other nonsense. No not me. I'd much prefer running for my life. Three hours and counting? No big deal!"

"This is all your fault anyway." Gasped Draco.

"How is it my fault?"

Draco turned to look at him as they slid around a corner.

"If you and Potter weren't so bloody brilliant and weren't so bloody competitive in class-"

Draco's words were cut off when Prince pulled in him into a small space hidden behind a tapestry.

"What are you-"

A hand clamped over his mouth to shush him. Draco huffed behind it and rolled his silver eyes. Outside they could hear the suits of armor stampeding past them. Half an hour later Hadrian removed his hand from Draco's mouth.

"I think we're in the clear."

Silver eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Not that I have an issue with you pulling me into dark places, pressing yourself against me and holding me there against my will, and I do note that I am a fine specimen of wizard, and the witches would certainly love it, you ought to at least hold off until we're thirteen."

Hadrian gaped. Then blushed. Then stuttered.

His hands flailed while he tried to come up with a response. During this time, ever the dutiful friend, Draco pulled them out of the dark narrow hall and into the hallway.

Potter and the Weasley twins walked as quickly as they dared down the hallway. If they took the shortcut behind the second staircase on the left they ought to be able to reach the Gryffindor tower in enough time to pretend they'd been there all along. Percy was coming to check, as they'd promised him earlier they would stay out of this pranking business and some Puff had to blabbed to him that they were seen down by the kitchens with potions that were suspect. Bloody Puffs.

A squeal and a snicker caught Potter's attention and his companions slowed down with him. To the side, just a head of them, stood Prince and Malfoy. The Malfoy heir was, obviously, messing with Prince's head again.

"I would never." Prince declared.

Malfoy crossed his arms, appearing insulted. "Oh, is that how it is?"

"I didn't mean it that way."

The blonde raised his chin. "How did you mean it."

"It's not that you're not a uh.."

"Fine specimen of wizard."

The Twins looked at Potter who raised both brows.

Prince nodded. "Yes that. It's just that wasn't what I was thinking about at the time."

"But you have thought about it!"

Prince flushed. Hand waving ensued.

Potter looked at Fred who looked at George who, in turn looked at Potter. He blinked. Glanced back at his other persona and then back to his friends.

"You know what, I don't want to know."

They nodded. That decided, it was off to the tower and the hopeful avoidance of one irate Percy Weasley.

Hadrian and Draco, along with Nott, several first year Ravenclaws, and one Gryffindor were seated in a corner of the library for their study group which had sort of formed it's self around the fact Prince was a genius and would happily rattle on answering this or that question if you caught him in the library as it was his favorite place to be. As long as you got to him in-between books you were golden. Sitting nearby, pretending not to take notes when the discussion turned political, were Cedric Diggory and Percy Weasley. They sat together of course as neither wanted to be seen sitting with first years and neither would see out the other.

Potter yawned again and purposefully knocked into Prince.

"So, now that you're finished your little I-am-totally-not-planning-to-take-over-the-world-you-see-nothing-over-here group, are you up for a walk down tot he lake? You were meant to meet me their half an hour ago."

Hadrian blinked cutely.

"Oh. Oops."

The Gryffindor sighed dramatically and wiped away fake tears, pretending to sob into Prince's shoulder. A sixth year prefect from Hufflepuff, who thought they were whispering to loudly maybe, stalked over and turned Potter around, hands on both of his shoulders.

"Would you please lower your voices and even leave if you're not here to study." The burly boy growled.

Before either Diggory or Weasley could rise and defend Potter, Prince beat them to it. The violet eyed Slytherin stood beside Potter and clasped his hand, which they usually only ever saw him do with the blond Sytherin rather Than Potter, and together they tilted their heads and gazed up at the prefect. They were exactly the same size, Diggory noted.

"But...we were only talking..." Prince pouted.

"I didn't mean to bother you." Potter continued, twisting a finger around his unruly locks.

"P-please don't make him leave."

They both bit their lips and pleaded with their vibrant eyes beneath lowered lashes.

Poor boy never had a chance. His face flushed and cleared his throat, scratching his neck awkwardly.

"Er. I'm sorry." The prefect said. He didn't know what he was sorry for but he suddenly felt like crap.

After the boy walked off they turned around, still hand in hand, faces still pouty and looked at their audience questioningly.

"Was it something we said?" They asked in unison.

Draco snorted.

"You both utterly abuse the whole Uke thing you've got going, you do know that? It's almost unseemly." He drawled.

They both blinked and pouted even more. Widening their eyes innocently.

"What is that? Can you explain it?"

Draco's face flushed at the prospect of giving a detailed account. He looked to Nott for help who was no help at all as he was choking on his smuggled in water. The two older boys stuttered when Prince and Potter turned their eyes on them. When no explanation was forthcoming Potter turned to Prince and placed his hand on his chin, gently brushed his cheek.

"Ah, my love, I fear we shall never understand these people."

"Alas, you are right. Outcasts among the normal folk." Prince agreed, nodding.

"Its fine. Let them mock us. I only need you.'

"And I you!" They hugged.

At least four of their audience fell out of their seats though they denied it when asked about it later. Draco glared Nott choked on nothing at all. On cue both first years fell down laughing.

"You should see your faces!"

"You were messing with us!"

"Yeah. We do that." Potter smirked.

"I'd never fall for Potter. That'd be like loving myself..." He paused, and Potter silently pulled out a hand mirror and held it up for him. "Hmmm. I am beautiful, though, aren't I?'

Prince looked up at them. Silence.

"I think we broke them." Potter observed, casting his arm around Prince and snuggling into his side.

Draco huffed, grabbed Prince's hand and started pulling him away, half dragging him out of the library.

"Such a strong grip Draco! Why are we leaving? Oh are you defending my honour? Is that it?"

"Shut up Prince."

Potter snickered and skipped after them.

Shaking his head to clear it, Cedric turned to Percy and then to the rest of the study group left staring after the retreating first years.

"Where the Hell did Potter get that mirror?"

Said Gryffindor caught up to the two Slytherins and slid his hand into the one Draco was not occupying and winked at the jealous Slytherin. Prince turned unexpectedly and shot a beaming smile at the group of hufflepuffs who had been not-so-subtly attempting to overhear their conversation. They took this to mean they were in mortal danger and ran out of the library and down the hall with frightened squeaks. Watching them travel in packs of three for safety and skitter around Prince for the rest of the week was a constant source of amusement for the Slytherins, even the older years.

Only Prince could get such a result from a smile. Most everyone knew he rarely smiled. He smirked. He sneered. Or his face was blank. Reals smiles only occurred around Malfoy or after a particularly witty insult at Potter. That didn't stop them all from commenting it was a good thing Prince hadn't tried to hug them or give them a handshake.

"Think of it! All the ickle Puffs throwing themselves off the towers. Offing themselves one by one in an attempt to avoid whatever, no doubt tortures and inhuman, plans you had in store for them. For shame Prince. For shame."

That particular third year woke with a shaved head and his robes dyed Hufflepuff colours. No one dared tease him within earshot after that. It wasn't technically a physical retaliation, but it was humiliating all the same and, what with the whole school-wide feud of Potter-fans versus Prince-fans, no one could prove it was him and not one of his supporters. That is what made all the difference. He could do anything he wanted to them and claim, believably, that he didn't know a thing about it. A dangerous position for a Slytherin to be in. Even from the perspective of other Slytherins.

"Have you noticed how he seems to talk to himself? Or to voices only he can hear?"

Draco asked Prince as they walked down the hall, Professor Quirell far in front of them mumbling.

Prince eyed Draco and smirked inwardly. "Yes, he's got this whole 'I may or may not be being possessed by a dark lord' vibe going on."

Draco stared.

"Uh, do I have something on my Face?"

"What did you just say about possession?"

Hadrian blinked. "It's ...er... nine tenths of the law?"

"No, about Quirell-"

A cool hand pressed against Draco's forehead.

"Are you feeling well?"

"What?"

"I think you need some tea. To the kitchens!"

Hadrian grabbed Draco's hand and lead the way, the blonde sputtering in confusion.

Somewhere. Someplace. Lady was laughing wickedly.

"Wait, wait, wait."

"What!?"

"Yeah, I wasn't listening."

Ron Weasley glared at Potter. They stopped int he middle of the hallway.

"And why not?"

"Well, see, I don't care what you have to say. At all. Ever."

"You asked me my opinion on whether Professor Snape's hair colour was natural or if he dyed it just this morning. The entire common room had a debate about it. I said it was is hard to tell under all that grease and he was evil anyway so it didn't matter."

"Yes. You did. This is why I don't care what you have to say. Worst essay answer ever. This is why I should follow Eden's advice and avoid gingers all together."

Having bat-like hearing where it concerned insults towards their hair colour, the Weasley twins made an abrupt appearance beside them.

"Where did you come from?" Questioned Potter, suspiciously.

"Secret passage."

"They have those here? Is that regulation? What if someone get's lost and starves to death? Or are starving children okay here? Because, lemme tell you, in other places...totally frowned upon."

The twins ignored that entirely in favor of crossing their arms and mock glaring.

"What is wrong with red hair?"

"Nothing. But there is loads wrong with fire engine red hair. You two, however, are strawberries. So it's cool."

The twins and Ron all blinked.

"What's the bloody difference?" Demanded Ron.

At the same time the twins said. "Strawberries?"

"Yep. That's what Eden calls you. Especially when you blush. Yeah like that! She think it's adorable."

Feeling quite vain about this the twins latched on to either of his arms and walked with him asking not so subtle questions about Eden's age, preferences and whether she was seeing anyone.

Ron, confused and annoyed shouted at the heavens. "What about my questions? Gah!"

No one answered though several second year Ravenclaws walked around him in a wide circle.

Hadrian paced in the Slytherin common room, ignoring the curious glances he was receiving. He swallowed, clenched his fists, unclenched his fists and paced some more. He just felt so agitated. So trapt. Before now he always had training at night. Every night. Even with Eridanous and Lucius he received training. Lady hadn't allowed him to slack. While being at Hogwarts was certainly exciting...it wasn't enough. He needed to use his power. He needed to release it. He needed the exhaustion that came from pushing yourself to your limits. The sweat and sore muscles and bruises and lack of breath and complete and totally adrenaline rush from doing something you've never done before. From the acknowledgement that you're just a bit better. Just a bit faster. Just a bit stronger than yesterday. The constant improvement. He needed it. The warded walls of the school and its strict rules of magic were suffocating him.

He started dreaming dreams. Small recollections of Lady's memories he'd seen in the pensieve. Memories of his time at the Dursleys. Of his cupboard. He'd wake in the morning, sweaty, panting, uncertain of his location or even the date. It would take long minutes of breathing exercises and steel self-control calm his emotions and wipe the shadows from his eyes. He'd get up, shower, dress and get to the main hall for breakfast earlier than most. He never let anyone see him that way. Weak. He hated himself for his weakness. Hadrian needed the purpose he used to feel with Lady. He needed the feeling of power at his finger tips. He needed...something.

So he paced in his Prince persona, focusing on breathing, ignoring worried glances and slowly cracking windows, flaring fireplaces and flickering candles. He saw nothing and no one around him. He heard nothing. He didn't feel cold when he penetrated the shadows in his pacing nor the returning warmth when he passed the hearths. Not the clack of his boots on the patches of tile between thick carpeting. Hadrian stopped, abruptly and headed for the wall that opened to the dungeons hallway. He needed to get out of here. He needed to find some place where he could be alone and work some of his agitation off. Losing control of his power was never acceptable, and his emotional manipulation was very good for his age, but he needed to get somewhere where he could let go of his control for a bit. Where he didn't have to be cunning and witty and stoic and reserved and perfect.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. His boots released cull echoes with each footfall. The staircase was long and at the first few steps it had been easy to believe it would take forever to climb them. Now, though, just the feeling of making his decision and making progress toward his chosen destination, eased his soul. After what was eternity and less than that, his feet hit even ground. The Astronomy Tower was deserted. No classes tonight. He hadn't even considered that when he began his trek up the stairs. Good thing his luck kicked in. Who knows what he would do in this state if his means of release was denied him.

Hadrian unpinned his cloak and draped it over the stone balcony. Breath in. Hold it. Breath out. Hold it. Repeat. Bring in positive vibes. Let out negative vibe. In. Out. In. Repeat. Feel for your center. Sense the familiar taste of your power. Touch it. Stroke it. Manipulate it. Repeat.

You can do this.

Power crackled along his finger tips. Hadrian raised them to his eyes and grinned. Run, run, jump on the balcony's edge with his right foot, thrust out left hand, expel electricity. Twist on heel, leap into the air, spin, thrust out hand, expel. Land on left foot, slide, twirl, thrust out hand, expel. Run. Jump. Thrust. Expel. Twist. Leap. Spin. Thrust. Expel. Repeat.

Faster.

He leapt and rolled and turned and thrust out his hand to expel electricity. Again. An again. In a deadly dance of lightning and heat and static on the air. Points of it twinkling around him like fairy light or fireflies. The ends of his hair floated around him, caught up in the power swirling in his aura. Deep purples and silvers and greens, entwining and unraveling and flowing. Lost to time. Lost to location. No hunger. No pain. Just power.

Faster.

Hadrian jumped higher, landing on the edge of the balcony once more. Leaning backward the palms of his hands met with the cold stone. Stomach muscles flexed, legs pushed off and rolled fluidly over his body. Arms pushed up. Up, over. Up, over. Along the edge. Land, twirl, leg over the edge, blast into the sky.

Faster.

He was a blur of shadow and light. Focused. Never noticing the eyes watching.

Twist. Leap. Thrust.

Faster.

Slide. Twirl. Thrust. Slide. Leap. Thrust.

Faster.

Hadrian twirled. He leapt. He flung out his power. The clouds gathering in darkened curtains across the sky, shutting out the light of the stars and covering the earth in anticipation for the storms to come. The air heated and chilled and heated. The breeze picked up, his tunic flaring along the bottom. Leaves and loose grass swirled in the air. Thunder crashed and rolled and boomed and echoed in demon-like roars on all side.

Still he lashed out.

It was in a flash of lightning he finally saw the silhouette of an uninvited onlooker.

"I bet the headmaster would love to hear about this. Poor ickle snake all alone. No one understands you. Practicing dark arts in the nights, manipulating students...thats takes hard work I bet. It doesn't matter what you do, you know. You aren't worth the trouble of hanging on to. I don't know how you managed to secure yourself as an apprentice to the d'Arc but when the trials come end of next summer someone better, someone worthy will take your spot. Cousin or no Lady won't accept less than the best. And you're not the best little snake. Oh no you're pretty enough and just clever enough but it all adds up to tricks as far as I can see. I don't even know why they let you come here. You don't belong here."

Hadrain froze, breath caught in his throat. Leaning against the stone of the tower, damp from the oncoming rain, was seventh year Ravenclaw. His sandy hair and dull gray eyes were ominous in the flashing lights of the storm. As the older boy approached him Hadrian backed up until his legs smacked against the balcony.

Energy shook his hands and fear tightened his throat. He was too caught up in his emotions. He didn't have control. While for anyone else this might result in a temper-tantrum or a fist fight, what it meant for Hadrian was far more serious. If he didn't have control, he couldn't use his power. He couldn't use magic either, his wand was tucked into his cloak which he'd thrown aside earlier. He was defenseless. And, like all bullies do, the older boy knew it.

Hadrian moved to slide to the side. A fist blocked him on either side, caging him in.

"Where ya going little Snake? Trying to scurry off to the dungeons?"

He dug his nails into the palms of his hands again, hoping the pain would help him focus. Of course the looming boy in front of him wasn't helping matters any.

"S'matter? Scared?"

A much larger hand pressed against his chest and he felt himself tip back alarmingly. The edge of the balcony's railing dug into his back. Honestly it was probably a good thing he was as terrified as he was, flailing about wouldn't have done him any favors. He was pressed back harder, tipped over a bit further, his violet eyes widening.

"Let me go."

The seventh year only smirked and pressed him back even more. Hadrian's head fell back. When a glimpse of the ground flickered before his eyes in a lightning flash he lost all composure. This boy was stronger than him and he had a wand. There was nothing for it.

"Please!"

"No."

Lightning flashes again, revealing the ground again. Prince jumped and closed his eyes. A small whine escaping his lips.

"Afraid of the light?" The boy asked, then squeezed Prince's arms to force his eyes open.

Prince swallowed thickly.

"Let me go. Right now. I'll never bring it up. I won't tell."

A growl.

"I wish you would."

Hadrian sucked in a deep breath, pulled his head forward enough to look the other boy in the eyes. He allowed an eery calm to fall over his face along with a toothy grin.

"As you wish."

The boy's eye narrowed but before he could respond to the strange comment Hadrian flung his head back, allowed the fear to take over and yelled out as loud as he could.

"LADY."

It lasted an eternity. It took the smallest of moments. The air stilled. The rain slowed. Time paused. Fate held her breath. Ice wounded it's way up the stone, frost glitter along their robes, mist revealed the quickened pace of their breathes. Shivers racked them and their throats constricted. For there, between them, she stood. One hand holding Prince firmly on the ground and the other held tight to the collar of the Ravenclaw Prefect. Inhuman eyes glowed beneath the darkness of her glasses, flasshes of lightning highlighted the curves of her face, showing glimpses of a twisted, animalistic smile. Fingers released the collar and the boy went flying into the wall. Dull eyes wide, mouth opened in an expression somewhere between disbelief of what lay before his eyes and the dawning realization of having made a very big mistake. Unfortunately hindsight was 20/20. And, as Lady always says, one must account of the consequences of one's actions. This would be no exception.

Prince watched Lady walk in slow, measured steps, to stand before the boy. She reached down a hand and raised his chin. She preferred for her audience (read:prey) to look her in the eye. The boy obviously recognized her, if the way he froze at her touch and hyperventilated was an indicator of anything.

"What is the matter?" she tilted her head. "Afraid of the d'Arc?"

Prince, in spite of the shivers wracking him and the very real fear from hanging so far above the ground still gripping him, snickered.

"Listen closely. I will only tell you this once and you will never receive mercy from me again. I do not like it when other people touch my things. He is my cousin. He is my apprentice. He wears my medallion. He belongs to me. In the future you will keep your hands to yourself. You will treat him with respect. You will remember this and you will not speak of it to anyone. Understood?"

Dull eyes glazed over then cleared. He nodded and scrambled down the steps leaving Prince and Lady alone. And, just like that, the world started it's motion again. Winds kicked up. Rain pelted. Thunder boomed.

Lady turned to him and studied him for several minutes. the throws of the storm swirling around them momentarily ignored.

"What have I told you child? They. Don't. Matter. Never have. Never will. They may be a level above the mundanes but most of the beings here in this Wizard's World are never going to grasp you and I. They will never match us. Like this boy tonight, they will lash out at you, hurt you, because they fear you. They already know, deep down, in the corners of their minds they visit at night, that you are far more than they could hope to be. Far higher than they could hope to reach. Do not allow their spiteful and jealous actions to hurt you. This world. These people. They don't deserve you."

Gloved hands pulled him into a hug, his arms reaching out and grasping her tunic, holding her close. Unshed tears shining within closed eyes. He swallowed and tried to pretend her words didn't ring as true as they did.

"I am here for you love. I promised to be, didn't I? I promised you would never be alone. You are mine. I want you and I will have you and I will destroy, utterly, anyone who dares to hurt you. You need only say the word."

For the second time the night and the third time that year, Hadrian felt a slight uneasiness at Lady's possessive quirks. No one had ever wanted him, why should Lady? At the same time, the feeling of being wanted, of being missed, of being cared for, being protected, it just felt so good.

And, not for the first time, Hadrian wondered how someone so...honest. So caring. So committed to their promises and keeping their word. How Lady could possibly be a 'darl creature'. How she could possibly be evil. Hadrian looked up at Lady's face, his Prince masks slipping back in to place, and wondered if there even was such a thing as good or evil or right or wrong.

Or if there were just people and their choices and the reasons they choose them.