DZ2's Dimensions of Destiny
3rd Dimension: Hadrian Morningstar: King of Champions
"EXCELLENT! We now have our three Champions, but in the end, only one can be victorious; only one can be able to hoist this chalice of champions…this vessel of victory…the Triwizard Cup!"
Even as Dumbledore's announcement revealed the prize that awaited one of the three chosen students at the climax of the Triwizard Tournament, however, even the Headmaster of Hogwarts – as well as all his other titles – couldn't help but lose some of his delight, as well as celebration when, suddenly, a burst of fiery magic announced an impossible occurrence.
The Goblet of Fire, which had already named the Champions for Hogwarts – Cedric Diggory – as well as Beauxbatons – Fleur Delacour – and Durmstrang – Viktor Krum – respectively, was now igniting for a fourth time, filling the Great Hall of Hogwarts with bursts of its blue, fiery contents, all of which shot up into the air in protest of what was happening.
None moreso than Albus Dumbledore himself, who drew his wand, aiming his magic at the fire in a bid to protect his students, many of whom ducked and cried out in alarm as the bursts of fire narrowly missed their heads, or worse.
As Dumbledore doused one of the spurts of fire, however, the Goblet blew its top, sending a fourth piece of parchment fluttering through the air, much to the shock of all present. Holding up a shaking hand, if only to try and make headway of what was going on, Albus eyed the piece of parchment that the Goblet had spat out with such extreme force.
When he did so, however, his eyes widened and his body suddenly went stiff, rigid and pale, his blue eyes filled with horror and disbelief, while his voice barely broke through the murmurs and whispers of the still-alarmed students.
"No…that…it's not possible…"
As people stared at Dumbledore in curiosity, some of them shrank back suddenly when the Headmaster's eyes snapped to the sea of faces, his voice booming like thunder as he roared at the assembly.
"WHO HAS DONE THIS? WHO WOULD BE SO CALLOUS AS TO PERFORM SUCH A CRUEL JOKE? SHOW YOURSELVES…NOW!"
"Albus?" asked Minerva, moving from where she'd been watching and waiting with the rest of the staff. "What…what's going on? Who…whose name is on that scrap of parchment?"
With shaking fingers, and eyes that were filled with one-part horror and one-part rage, the latter of which made many of those watching remember just why Albus Dumbledore was so feared and respected by both Light and Dark-siders alike, the Headmaster's voice cut through the silence.
Though the words he spoke were not what any of the students gathered expected him to say…and with good reason.
"Harry Potter!"
Gasps of horror, disbelief, alarm, awe, curiosity and even anger filled the hall, from both staff and students alike; as Dumbledore handed the piece of parchment to Minerva, who had now also gone pale with horror at the insinuation made, it was the least-favourite teacher in all of Hogwarts who not only spoke out against what had happened.
He also reminded everyone why it was that this was impossible.
"But…but Potter's been reported dead for…for more than ten years now, Headmaster! You gave the…the…tragic…news yourself!"
A few students scowled when they heard a very faint titter lacing Snape's wording of how tragic it was to receive such terrible news.
However, it was the third of the four Heads of House who now faced the students;
"If this is somebody's idea of a joke, especially if those people happen to have red hair and think themselves the new Marauders, I assure you; your punishments will not be lenient…unless you own up to it here and now!"
"I doubt even Messers Weasley and Weasley would be so cruel as to make such a callous move and call it a prank, Filius," argued Professor Sprout, having joined her colleagues in front of the Goblet, where she too eyed the parchment as she asked, "Could…could it be a mistake? I mean; Potter…he is…um…"
"I believe the word you are looking for is dead, Pomona," growled Severus, though only he heard his own addition. 'And good riddance!'
"Then how did his name come out of…"
Before Filius could finish his question, however, his eyes widened, as did many of the people present when, all of a sudden, a loud, booming GONG echoed through the Great Hall, accompanied by a wave of ice-cold wind that was so cold, but so potent, it sent all the flames in the torches around the room retreating into their holders, plunging the entire Hall into almost pitch-black darkness.
Almost being the key word as, at the same time, a thin, faint, eerie-looking shaft of blood-red light suddenly appeared on the other side of the Goblet, shining not in the air or near the now-extinguished Goblet's top, but, instead, to the shock of the spectators, the light seemed to emanate from within a fissure that seemed to have appeared on the floor of the Hall.
As the students craned their necks, trying to see what was happening, a tumultuous CRACK followed the gonging sound, causing the fissure to widen, sending more eerie red light into the air.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING, DUMBLEDORE?" Exclaimed Barty Crouch Senior.
"I…I don't…I don't know, Bartemius," insisted Dumbledore, looking over his shoulder as he asked, "Alastor…can you…what can you see?"
For the first time since knowing the somewhat-crazed ex-Auror, however, Dumbledore was alarmed to notice that Alastor had a look of sheer, unbridled terror etched onto his face, his magical eye fixed on the fissure as it cracked and splintered, causing a mini-chasm to open in the ground.
At the same time, the students let out a series of alarmed, terrified cries when the red light from within the chasm now revealed itself to be what it really was; namely a sea of blood-red and inky-black-coloured flames, which rose up like a thousand dragons breathing a thousand bursts of fire into the air from below the school itself.
As the flames tickled at the Great Hall's ceiling, those nearest the chasm went from alarmed to awed, if not disbelieving when, from within the fire itself, something rose up.
It looked like a chair.
A large, high-backed chair forged from pure-black metal, with what looked like spikes, or perhaps horns or some sort, protruding out of the head of the chair; to look at it, minus the spikes/horns, you'd be forgiven for comparing it to Dumbledore's golden throne, especially when, as the throne rose from the bowels of the Earth, it also revealed two human skulls in place of the arms of the throne, both of them shining with bejewelled, black fixtures that only sent shadows and fiery wisps radiating around the room.
As the throne rose up from the fissure, however, so too did those nearest the flames also notice that the throne was, somehow, impossibly, occupied by one whom seemed unfazed by the flames, the Dark Magical auras that danced across the floor and into the air, or even the sea of awestruck, alarmed and questioning faces watching them rise from the depths of the earth, almost like they were rising from the Underworld itself.
The figure was tall – not Hagrid or Maxim tall, but certainly tall enough to be called a fully-grown man – and pale to behold, his pallor somewhere close to albino, though that could have just been the glow from the flames that surrounded him as he rose up on his throne. He was also a man, whom seemed to be somewhere in his late teens, if not early-twenties, judging by the young, roguish air of handsomeness he projected over many who were gathered around him.
His body was dressed in a skin-hugging black outfit, which was emphasised by a long, blood-red coat that seemed to resemble folded wings around his tall, lean frame; on one hand, the stranger wore a silver ring with a pure, green stone that, from where he watched the throne and its occupant rise into the hall, Dumbledore gasped suddenly when he also saw a pure-black insignia etched into the green stone.
An insignia he knew very well, given his ex-lover, and so many others, had followed such an insignia over the centuries, not to mention the fact it was also faintly engraved onto the wand held by Dumbledore himself, not that too many knew that, or what it meant.
As well as the ring, the stranger wore a silver-and-gold pendant with what looked like a blood-red circular charm fixed into place in the end of the pendant, a series of runes – none of which Albus was alarmed to note he could begin to translate, much less guess their purposes – engraved into the charm around the pendant, each one almost helping to fix the red circle in place.
Finally, the stranger also wore a pair of red-and-black boots that looked like they were made from the hide of a beast that even Dumbledore, much less Moody or even Newt Scamander himself could have claimed to recognise.
The only reason that Dumbledore knew about these boots was because of how, as the throne finally stopped its rising, the youth stepped off the black throne, the sound of his boots striking the ground causing a rippling echo to resonate through the hall. Curiously, if not alarmingly, this also caused the fissure to close up, before the flames in the room returned to their sockets, bathing the hall in a once-again warm, but no-less eerie glow that was augmented by the presence of the tall, dark, handsome stranger in their midst.
As the flames' light danced over his pale frame, the stranger drew in a deep breath before he looked to Dumbledore, who gulped hard when he saw two emerald-green orbs that looked as though they contained the first light from the very first Killing Curse ever cast.
Now those eyes were staring at Dumbledore from under a head of messy, but not untidy or untameable black hair that emphasised the attractive air felt by many as they stared at the youth, who drew in a second breath before his voice cut through the silence of the hall.
"So, tell me…exactly what lowbrow, impotently-driven, suicidal-challenged mortal would be stupid enough to actually invoke such ancient bonds that risk my ascension from my domain?"
As Dumbledore opened his mouth to respond, however, he was cut off when the young man snorted before he laughed;
"Not that I'm complaining that much, mind you; it feels like an age since the last time I was able to break out of my rut and have some fun! But still, who'd be so crazy as to think they could actually get away with summoning me from the depths of Hell, just for the sake of your pathetic mortal hopes, dreams and so-called genius plans?"
"HELL?"
"Is he?"
"The fire…could it have been…"
"How else do you explain the fire?"
"Or the throne?"
"Or the Dark Magic?"
"This isn't good…"
"SILENCE!"
Dumbledore's voice boomed through the hall, fortunately masking the air of alarm, if not horror felt by Albus himself as he looked to the young man before him, his voice growing softer, but no-less clear as he asked, "Now, if everyone will please not panic, perhaps you might explain just who you are, young man? And…what did you mean by summoning you here?"
"Well, to the second, you have that to thank for that happening, old man," drawled the youth, indicating the Goblet of Fire as he explained, "I wonder if old Lu knows how lowbrow you mortals have made one of his greatest contract-makers? Probably not, since you now use it for an interschool pissing contest instead of the grand spectacles it was once used for…"
Here, the youth sighed deeply, chuckling to himself before he folded his arms and gestured to Dumbledore with a nod;
"As for your first question: who am I? well, that's a little harder to explain, but, Cliff Notes version? Look in your hand, old man; my name…well, my old name, is written on that itty-bitty piece of parchment there."
"YOU CAN'T BE HIM!" Exclaimed Severus, causing many to jump as they wondered if, or perhaps when, Severus Snape might have learned to show any emotion apart from grumpy snarkiness and bias towards everything not Slytherin.
Because now, he was terrified, alarmed, in a state of sheer disbelief and even angry as he snarled at the emerald-eyed youth;
"Potter is dead! Just like his arrogant wastrel of a Father and his…the woman he married…"
"Too true, Severus Snape," drawled the young man, nodding once before he smiled wolfishly as he added, "Also, her name was Lily, and I have it on the best-possible authority that she wishes for you to hurry up and join her in the next life so she can thank you for what you helped make happen thirteen Earth-Years ago…"
Gasps of alarm filled the hall at that revelation, while the youth spread his arms proudly, beaming like the Nundu that ate the Thunderbird as he declared in a loud, proud and none-too-amused tone of voice;
"But while Harry Potter, aka my old life, ended ten years ago and a wickle bit more…my new life started soon after and, for quite a while now, I have been, as I am now, no longer Harry James Potter…well, I am known as Harry; to my friends and close, personal relations, anyway…"
Here, an aura of fresh, magical energy filled the hall, making more than a few tremble and quiver, while others, specifically those from the Muggle world, including a certain brunette, were switching between frantically whispering a well-known prayer under their breaths, whilst constantly crossing themselves as they did so, not that it seemed to be doing anything to the stranger in their midst.
Meanwhile, the young man who said he was once Harry Potter grinned triumphantly as he announced his, apparently, new identity to them all;
"To everyone else, including you poor, misguided mortals…you may call me…Hadrian…Morningstar…and yes, little humans, I do mean as in the Devil, the one, true King of Hell and Supreme Overlord of Darkness…well, the King of Hell bit's right for me, anyway…but still, it's so very nice to meet you all; thanks for throwing out the red carpet and welcoming me back to the mortal realm…"
Lowering his arms, Harry, or Hadrian, or whatever he was choosing to call himself, chuckled mirthfully, as he turned to the sea of students behind him.
"Oh, and you can just stop with those silly mortal poems and pitiful excuses for anti-Demonic chants; thanks to whoever was dumb enough to make such a jerk-ass move, most-likely because they, or someone close to them, refused to accept I was actually dead, the doors were flung open, the invites sent out and now, to put it simply…"
Another wave of magic flew out of Harry's body, alarming and unnerving many as he chuckled, his tone rumbling like thunder as he growled;
"Hell has come to Hogwarts…so…let the games begin, shall we, kids?"
Oh boy…and they say tickling a sleeping dragon is bad: this is much worse!
Anyway, this sample is another idea of a response to one of the many prompts I put in my forums: details below…
Harry Potter was believed to be dead, so when his name comes out of the Goblet of Fire, people are sceptical...until the Earth opens up and a tall, dark and handsome man rises from the earth, sat upon a black throne, wondering what mortal is stupid enough to risk his rising from the pits of Hell
(Dark/Evil Super/OP Demon/Cambion Harry: years earlier, Harry didn't die: instead, he was transported to Hell where he's had to learn to survive and grow stronger: one way he's done that is by amassing a King's Ransom of Soul Coins, which is the currency in Hell: the more Soul Coins you have, the more souls you own and the more powerful you become: in all the years he's been "dead" on Earth, Harry has amassed a vast fortune and legion of souls, all of whom have helped him become the new King of Hell: what skills and/or powers Harry possesses as King of Hell is up to you: as King, Harry has loyal demons, but there MUST also be those out to go after the King's throne and/or claim his soul for themselves: all the souls Harry owns have become demonic warriors/creatures with powers of their own to use to serve the King: what powers these may be is up to you: crossovers welcome: bonus points if some of the soul-corrupted demonic warriors under Harry's command are demonized incarnations of famous figures from mortal history: bonus points if Harry looks older than he should be because time passes differently in Hell)
So, Cliff Notes on this one: Harry's been dead for a decade, but, in Hell Time, it's much longer and, in that time, he's gone from low-level demon Soul Collector to the new Morningstar – which, in-story, is the title/name carried by the King/Queen of Hell
Lucifer WOULD still be in the story, as would faces from history – both Muggle and magical – and some really funny, if not twisted ideals thrown in for good measure.
As for romantic relationships…hmm…don't know; might consider a harem, but, at the same time, might consider Harry already has a Queen of Hell – heck, maybe I'd pair him with a female-Lucifer; imagine the chaos.
Don't know yet; hence why I put here in the DOD
And so, onto the next Dimension!