The Rise of the Hidden Lords

by Bydand777

What if Merlin trapped the legendary witch Morgana Le Fay Pendragon in the animal form of a raven? What if secretly Gellert and his lover Albus used a forbidden ritual to allow Gellert to impregnate Albus and they had a daughter? And what if after graduating Beauxbatons that daughter married a Scottish mercenary she met in the Congo? And what would happen to their son?

2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This Harry Potter Fanfiction is written for personal enjoyment and not for profit. All Harry Potter universe content found within is property of J.K. Rowling. Any similarities to other stories are not intentional

This is my first foray into the realm of writing fanfiction, so please good gentlefolk of Fanfiction, be kind and courteous.

Flames will be ignored

Spells

Parseltongue

'Thoughts'

"Dialogue"

Chapter I- Arthur G. P. Grant

July 7, 1967, a seven pound baby boy was born after seven hours of labor to Yvaine and Liam Grant, very tired but very happy parents. Their families were there too, David and Elaine Dreyfuss and Margaret and Angus Grant, Liam's parents. Liam's twin younger sisters Fiona and Gwen were there to see their new nephew. Currently, Yvaine was holding her new son looking on him so much love her magic could be seen radiating off of him. "Hello, my little Arthur, my little prince. " Yvaine cooed at him and tickled his baby feet. With a marvelous magical giggle little Arthur wiggled his little feet to try to get away from the tickling. She then handed him to Liam who kissed his forehead and said, "My son, my wonderful baby boy, I name you heir to all of my titles to be awarded on your seventeenth birthday. I am so happy right now. Thank you Blessed Ancient God of the Hunt for your gift of an heir to my lines and a joy to my life."

The combined Grant and Dreyfuss families vowed to protect Arthur and raise him in the ways of their families both magical and Muggle. At the age of one year and seven months Arthur's first word was shockingly Excalibur. The next day he managed to grow a longbow from the yew tree in the Grant's backyard. The following week he turned into a fledgling Royal Golden Eagle, a magical variant of the Muggle bird. Then Yvaine and Liam decided to put training blocks on Arthur's magic in order to curtail any dangerous outbursts of infant accidental magic.

In the meantime, Arthur grew up on the Ancient Grant Estate in the Scottish Highlands not far from the cursed valley of Glencoe. His magical training started at the age of four when his mother Yvaine gave him a training wand dagger in the style of a Fairbairn Sykes commando knife. "Weapons are in your blood son. I am the first arms-crafter of my family and I will pass the art down to you. Your father will teach the way of the soldier and battle mage and I will teach you the way of the arms-crafter and scholar." Arthur took the dagger and felt his magic pulse through it. "It tingles Mother. Yet it feels right." Arthur giggled as his magic gleefully played through the dagger and it lit into silver and green flames with the silhouette of a serpent.

Arthur, curious, spoke to the shape, "Hello, my little snaky! Who are you?" The serpent paused in shock and it hissed sibilantly, "By the Ancients! A Speaker! And not just any Speaker, the descendent of my late Master! I am Medusa, no not the Greek myth, but I am the astral form of Salazar Slytherin's basilisk familiar. You are truly the one and only Heir of the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin young one." Yvaine sat there in stunned silence, since as a Parseltongue she could understand every word. Word had been spreading that a wizard who claimed to be the Heir of Slytherin was gathering political power and currying favor with most of the Blood Supremacist factions of the Pureblood families.

Liam himself was worried and felt a war was coming. To that end he paid the Goblins many tons of raw mithril from the Grant mine to set up war wards and working along with Yvaine to tie them into arms-crafted Muggle defense such as automated Vulcan cannons with infinite ammunition runes. Once everything was in place, Liam bought an old Enfield factory and armory that was on the far end of the Grant estate. He then turned it into an arms-crafting arsenal for Yvaine to use.

The years passed and in 1978 when Arthur could have left to attend Hogwarts, he stayed at home at the Grant estate and instead attended a military officer preparatory school near Sandhurst in England and excelled in his schooling and training there. After four years at the age of fifteen, Arthur took his final exams and made valedictorian with a scholarship offer from Oxford. Arthur attended Oxford until he left at the age of eighteen with a Masters in Physics and a Bachelors in Military History. He enlisted in the British military the very next day.

Surprisingly both Yvaine and Liam were beyond proud of him for joining up and they and the now older grandparents supported their little cadet with all their hearts. Arthur, never Arty as an unfortunate fellow cadet found out, outpaced all of the cadets in his class. After several months of basic training, Arthur was surprisingly assigned directly to The Parachute Regiment by personal request of its commanding officer. Magically and Muggle trained, Arthur G.P. Grant was a force to be reckoned with.

After two years stationed in Northern Ireland, Arthur put in a request to join the 22nd Regiment, Special Air Service. After a thorough dressing down by the SAS commandant for not going to officer school with a damn Oxford education, Arthur returned to the commandant with a commission as a lieutenant and he was accepted into SAS processing immediately. After a relatively, for him at least, easy jaunt through the Brecon Beacons in Wales, Arthur became a full-fledged Special Air Service trooper and was posted to the counter-terrorism unit. The government was puzzled over increasing accounts of lifeless bodies with no wounds or people tortured into messes that shouldn't be possible and suddenly on Halloween 1981 they all stopped.

And then in 1987 when another important and powerful child was seven, disaster struck Arthur while he was on a secret mission deep inside Republican held territory in Northern Ireland. His team was being sent in to retrieve a British SIS or MI-6 officer who had been captured by the Provisional Irish Republican Army and was being tortured for information in Belfast.

"Wolfpack this is Alpha. Pack has reached enemy den and are awaiting instructions." Arthur radioed the SAS command post in Belfast. "Roger that, Alpha. Proceed to extract Omega, no matter the status. Over and out." Arthur turned to his six man team, "Alright, we go in quiet and get out with the target dead or alive. Alright team suppressors on and weapons free. "The team quickly made it through the old warehouse that the Provos were based out of killing any in their path. Finally they reach the door where the heavily beaten and tortured body of the MI-6 officer could be seen through the dirty window. Slowly the officer shakes his gagged head. Noticing this, Arthur had his men stop and halt. One of the men, Jock, "Cap'n this don't feel right. There's something wrong here. "As if on cue, a Provo with a spotlight turns it on blinding the SAS troopers momentarily as they dive for cover. An American M-60 machine gun opens up on the team and a loud explosion in the next room signals the detonation of the Semtex on the MI-6 officer.

"Shit! Damn Provo Bastards!" All of the SAS troopers were down, either dead or concussed from the blast. Arthur himself had taken a bullet to the left eye rendering it blind yet he fought on, dragging each one of his men back to where the helicopter was supposed to pick them up. Magazine after magazine was fired from his suppressed Heckler and Koch MP-5 submachine gun and when he ran out he grabbed one of his fallen men's guns. After an hour long firefight, the only one left conscious was Arthur as he guarded a row of his men dead or alive and patched up with whatever medical supplies he had. A grey bandage covered his empty left eye socket.

When the Medevac helicopter arrived Arthur insisted on being the last to board and to receive treatment. To his great credit as an officer and as a warrior, only two of his men had died while the other four survived. The medic told Arthur that his left eye was completely gone and that there was nothing that could be done about that. Arthur merely shrugged it off and said to focus on his men not himself. After a few weeks recuperating Arthur was ceremoniously and medically discharged with full honors and a promotion to major from Her Majesty's Armed Forces. With head held high and his tan beret that he'd wanted for so long snug on his head, he marched out the base at Hereford and into his parents waiting Land Rover. "Son, I am so proud of the fine man you've become. It's time for you to take up your titles my dear boy and I do mean all of them. Albus bloody Dumbledore has been riding roughshod over the Wizengamot ever since he killed Grindelwald in 1945. It's high time that we do something about that. "Arthur smiled a cold wicked smile, "That old lemon drop guzzling fool has no idea what he is in for. And I bet he's stealing money from a great family to fuel his one man dictatorship over Magical Britain?" Yvaine sighed and said, "Unfortunately yes. Apparently the Potter holdings have come to him as Young Hadrian's magical guardian which I am positive he cooked up as a plot somehow. Maybe you should look into that, Arthur when you get your eye replacement."

Arthur said, "Ah that's right mum. Did you find anywhere that could make what you and I designed? " Yvaine grinned and said , "There is a hidden Magitechnical laboratory in Surrey near the village of Little Whinging that has developed a prototype of a biotechnical and magical prosthetic eye and your father and I have been working with them to create one that is ten times more useful than that bulging monstrosity of Alastor Moody's. " Arthur smiles and pulls out a dark grey and black one eyed full face mask with one eyehole. Yvaine raises an eyebrow and Arthur says, "Meet the face of Wraith, the masked phantom of the night. This will be my persona for when we need a blade in the dark rather than politics in the Wizengamot. I constructed it out of an alloy of tungsten and mithril with an outer layer of shadowed basilisk hide and it has been tested to block any curse, including to my surprise the Avada Kedavra. It is a full face mask covering my head down to my neck with perfect fit runes engraved on the inside."

The Grants arrived in Little Whinging in a home that they rented on Privet Drive, Number Seven Privet Drive to be precise directly across the street from the Dursleys. The Grants took an immediate disliking to the Dursley family yet they noticed another small undernourished young boy often doing the yard work while the fat lump known as Dudley Dursley would be harassing and bullying younger children for their allowances.

Seven year old Harry Potter had not had a great life so far. Beaten daily and fed less rations than a prisoner would be fed, he was extremely frail and tiny for his age. He was in despair and was at the point where he felt that death would be better than this continued horrible existence. He limped from the garden, hands blistered and infected from the numerous thorns from Petunia's prized rosebushes. Vernon Dursley, his uncle, was waiting in the doorway, "Get in here Freak and fix dinner for us! For being late in from the garden you don't get to have any supper Freak! I should be awarded just for taking you in, you ungrateful brat!" Harry inwardly sighed and in a meek submissive voice said, "Yes, Sir. I will make your dinner for you, Sir. "

Watching this through binoculars fixed to a runically amplified Muggle boom microphone similar to those used by espionage and law enforcement agencies, was Arthur, and he was furious. 'Those utter wastes of humanity! These monsters do not deserve to be called fucking humans! Animals are treated better than Harry Potter! 'He clenched his hand over his Warlock Arms High Power, an arms-crafted sidearm that he had to forge for his Ancient Runes N.E.W.T. for the International Confederation of Wizards examiner. Oh how he longed to put two of his customized untraceable bullets into Vernon's pudgy body! Something had to be done about this situation and soon, but Arthur needed to obtain more information before acting, and as the Heir of Slytherin, patience was not something he lacked.

One day, maybe a week after Arthur witnessed the daily happenings of the atrocious Dursley household, who should appear at the Dursleys, but the vaunted Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore himself. Instantly intrigued, Arthur zoomed in with his prosthetic eye and turned on the spy microphone. What he heard chilled him to his very core. "Good day Vernon. How has your treatment of young Harry been? I do hope that you have been treating him as I commanded, no better than a house elf am I correct?" Vernon smiled cruelly, and nodded, "Yes Mr. Dumbledore we have been raising the Freak exactly how you told us to. We tell him that his parents were drunks and died in a car crash. We make him do every single chore around the house and barely provide for him. We punish him severely if he ever does better than Dudley in school." Albus smiled broadly and said, "Excellent! Here is that five thousand pounds I promised every month. That stupid brat doesn't even know it's from his own account."

Vernon and Albus shared a laugh over that and Arthur sat there in his study, pale in shock. 'This cannot be happening. I have to help. I cannot possibly do nothing!' Arthur stood up quickly and put his eye patch on over his prosthetic eye. He left the house and locked the door behind him. He saw young Harry on the swing at the local playground and then to his shock and horror he saw Dudley Dursley, Harry's extremely obese cousin, swing the mother-of-all –haymaker punches into Harry's face. Harry flew backwards and cracked his head on the steel jungle gym behind him. "You! Fatso! Step away from him or I swear I will call the police!" Arthur yelled at Dudley and his gang.

Panicking, the bullies all ran off after being yelled at by a decidedly intimidating well-muscled man in an eyepatch. Arthur rushed over to Harry who laid there still and motionless. He wrapped his arms around Harry, lifting him and trying to heal his cracked and bleeding skull. "Vulnera Sarentur, Vulnera Sarentur…" Arthur kept trying to save Harry's life but nothing seemed to be working. In desperation, he cried out, "Is there anyone out there who can help me save this child?! I beseech you, Ancient God of the Blessed Hunt please help your servant to help this child to live!"

As if in answer, a large raven fluttered down from a tall tree. Arthur watched cautiously, as he was on guard if this carrion bird tried to rip into young Harry. A gentle alto voice spoke into his mind, "Be at peace young Lord. Young Hadrian will come to no harm, yet I require something of you young one. He can be saved if you bind your blood to his and take him as your son using the Ancient and deepest of nature's magic." In awe of this raven, Arthur asked, "Are you perhaps, The Lady Raven that my ancestor Erik spoke of in his journals?"

A little testily perhaps, the raven answered back, "Yes, I am. Now will you save this young one's life or not? His life is ebbing away every second you delay. "Snapped out of his reverie, Arthur pulls a combat knife out of the top of his boot, and drew the blade across his palm before placing it on top of Harry's skull wound. He drew in a breath and then in a powerful echoing Gaelic tongue, intoned, "I Arthur Grindelwald Pendragon Grant, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Gaunt, the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Slytherin, the Ancient and Noble House of Grindelwald, and the Lord of the Royal House of Pendragon, use my soul, my lifeblood and magics gifted to me by nature to bind Hadrian James Potter to me as my son from this day henceforth. May the Gods accept this oath and if I shall ever break this, may I be cursed and forever foresworn! This is my decree!"

The blood from Arthur's hand pooled onto young Hadrian's head and then shot into the wound and buried itself deep inside. Instantly, the young boy's body jerked and the lighting shaped scar on his forehead split open and blood and black ooze gushed forth. "By the Gods!" Arthur exclaimed as he and the raven looked on in utter shock. Deep inside the scar, in Hadrian's brain, a vile and dark entity was battling for its survival. "No! I will not be extinguished! I will take this boy as my vessel! Lord Voldemort will not be defeated!" A booming voice spoke as a massive ebony dragon slashed at the possessing evil spirit, "You will die here, parasite. This youngling is not yours to take and the blood of the King now flows through his veins! Now, begone!" And with a massive snap of its jaws the dragon bit down onto the vile parasite killing it outright. The dragon said in a soft voice, "Sleep well and rest now young Hadrian, while I set right the toll that these unhappy years have placed on your body."

Approximately two hours later, after Arthur carried an unconscious Hadrian back to his rental house and laid him on the spare bed, a regal Black Eagle Owl with the official seal of Gringotts Bank appeared on Arthur's owl post perch. Arthur took the letter from the Gringotts owl and then quickly wrote a letter in reply. He then sealed the letter with spelled sealing wax and pressed the Lordship ring on his right ring finger to the wax, before handing the letter to the owl who had been drinking from the owl bowl Arthur kept there. The majestic bird took off winging into the light of the coming dusk.

Arthur returned to his vigil over Hadrian who was surrounded by an impenetrable dome of multicolored energy and magic which hid him from sight. Both the young Lord and the raven watched this process in absolute silence, their minds in awe of what was happening in front of them. Seven hours later, a very magically potent length of time, the dome around young Hadrian faded leaving a much healthier seven year old boy with the proper muscle tone and weight for a boy that had been doing manual labor for years. His cheeks were angular and his hair seemed to flicker between different colors. The lighting shaped scar on Hadrian's forehead was no longer there leaving pure, unblemished skin.

Arthur checked Hadrian's pulse and to his utter joy and relief it was there, strong and unrelenting. "Thank the Gods! I thank you Ancient God of the Blessed Hunt and Lady Raven for saving young Hadrian. I owe you a debt I can never hope to repay, yet ask whatever you wish of me and it shall be done." A white stag appeared in the corner of the room, "Raise this blessed child as your own and teach him all your ways. He is a True Child of Prophecy and he will have many trials. Yet with you as his father and mentor, he will rise to heights not seen for eons. I leave this blessing for you both, father and son." The stag came over and with its snout touched Hadrian and then Arthur over the heart, leaving a dark magical tattoo of the avatar of the Ancient God of the Blessed Hunt before the stag faded into nothing and dissipated.

Arthur stroked Hadrian's hair and smiled in wonder as his new child's hair changed from color to color, and unknown to Arthur his own metamorphagus powers were in sync with Hadrian's and his hair matched color to color along with the young boy. The raven perched on the head board of the bed, seemingly guarding him from any evil. Arthur, satisfied that Hadrian was safe, drifted off to sleep propped upright in his chair. Five hours later, he was awoken by a gentle, "Wake up, sir. Could you please tell me where I am?" Immediately awake, Arthur turned to see a meek and scared Hadrian Potter looking at him from the bed.

"Ah, I am glad to see that you are awake, young Hadrian. You had quite the ordeal earlier if I must say." Hadrian, looking confused, said "My name is Harry, sir, not Hadrian, and what ordeal are you mentioning, sir?" Arthur smiling said , " Your name is Hadrian James Potter , the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter , descendant of the Knight of the Round Table , Galahad Potter and you are my son by blood adoption rite. " Arthur went on to explain to Harry exactly what happened before ending up in this intimidating yet kind young man's home. In shock, Hadrian said softly, "So I have a father now? But what about my birth dad, I think James, you said his name was? "

Arthur leaned forward and clasped Hadrian's shoulder in a kind and loving gesture. "Your birth father will always be, James Ignotus Potter, a friend, Auror, husband and father that I could only dream to be like, or so my father has told me about him. I will never take away his sacrifice and love for you, Hadrian. I will simply do my utmost to emulate James as your new father going forward. Are you alright with this, young Hadrian?" A crying and overjoyed young boy launched himself out of bed and wrapped his arms around Arthur, and said "I have a dad! I have two dads and I knew that Mum and Dad weren't drunks who died in a car crash! And now I have another dad, who gave me his blood to save my life, this little boy who everyone calls Freak and Worthless and Brat! Thank you so much! "Hadrian just dissolved into sobbing after this and cried himself to sleep.

Arthur sat in the chair, holding a sleeping Hadrian and he sobbed, tears for all the pain and suffering that he can't help but see as his Legilimency probes young Hadrian's memories. "Never again, my dear sweet boy. Never again, will you be beaten down and trod under foot. I will not let you be abused for showing your intelligence or starved and forced to work. I will protect you and train you and guide in the ways of the ancient magics of Nature and the magic of the world today and in the ways of the Muggles. You will be a warrior, statesman and a Lord without peer. This I swear. "He kissed the sleeping boy's forehead and let himself drift off to sleep once again, while a majestic raven watched over them both, keeping a silent vigil as the two slept.