Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, and I surely don't make money with this fanfiction (or I wouldn't eat pastas everyday).
bigwoof: Thank you for the support. I truly appreciate it, and I hope you'll also like this chapter. Have a great day!
carlos29: Thanks a lot ! I'm so happy to see that people enjoy my story. Take care, and have a good day !
XiaoYUeMao: Hey ! So to answer your question, if you talk about Deos, Hadrian was far more powerful than him. Remember that he was fighting at the same time his whole army, and the guy himself. And even with that, he crushed them, only getting some damage because he used too much magic. Furthermore, what was truly dangerous was the gravity spell that he didn't see coming. It doesn't matter how powerful he is, if he is stuck and unarmed, he is in danger. But, if you were putting them one on one, Hadrian would have destroyed him.
Anyway, thanks for your review, I hope my explanation helped a little. Take care !
CaskettFan5: Then, my mission is accomplished ! Thanks for reading, take care and have a good day !
JohnMonty: To answer your question about Hadrian... Well, I won't spoil you here... However, if you truly want to know about that, you may try to take a look a the french version with a translator. It has much more chapters. But, if you feel courageous enough, then you can wait until I give you the answer in the translated version... About the "change people's magical signature", it is possible (but very difficult) to identify. Still, as it is extremely hard to change one's own magical signature, aurors and people tend not to investigate that. Some of them don't even know that it is possible. So... Who knows if someone is going to understand what truly happened... Anyway, thanks for the support. I really appreciate it. Take care of yourself, and have a wonderful day !
Midgarde: Well, I won't tell you anything. I would ruin the rest of the story if I did. However, you'll see if you continue to read that we'll slowly understand what happened, why and how they died (if they died of course... who knows ?). So, feel free to read the rest if you want to know ! Thanks for reading until there already, and take care !
That evening, 22H54:
Alexander was a man consumed by worry. For several months now, like many wizards, he had sensed a change in the air, a looming turning point. For the time being, only rumours were circulating: a stray werewolf attacking a Muggle village here, a mysterious disappearance there. For those born after the First War against Voldemort, these events seemed no different from everyday life.
However, for those who had lived through that dark era, like Alexander, it was impossible not to notice the disturbing similarities between the initial rise of the Dark Lord and recent events.
A glass of wine in hand, he contemplated his daughter and wife in the distance, as heavy thoughts weighed on his mind. Ophelia, his beloved... What a work of art! He could still remember the day he first saw her during his fourth year at Hogwarts. She stole his heart before he could even speak to her.
Their love story could have been featured in a Muggle novel: secret meetings, conversations at the top of the Astronomy Tower... Everything was idyllic.
But of course, all good things must come to an end. At least, that's what he thought.
Indeed, one morning, his father had summoned him and announced that a marriage contract had been drawn up with a pure-blood heiress, and that he must prepare for this union.
Alexander could still remember the emotional rollercoaster he had experienced that day. First the sadness and anger at the announcement of this news, then the immense happiness of learning that the chosen one was Ophelia, followed by a nagging doubt: was she alright with that?
Fortunately, the kiss they had shared upon their reunion had been enough to dispel his worries, soothing his heart for good.
Nevertheless, it was on that same day that he had sworn never to impose a marriage contract on his own children. He didn't want them to experience the suffering he had endured.
He made sure to keep this promise. Well, that is, until the treacherous attack by Nott and Malfoy on his Manor. That day, overwhelmed by despair, he had made a pact with the devil, flirting with the idea of selling his daughters. Only the intervention of the Potters had saved him from this absolute disaster. When he regained his strength and reason, he collapsed, unable to face the immensity of the mistake he almost made.
Even though he knew he had his family's forgiveness, Alexander couldn't help but carry the weight of a persistent guilt. Hadrian himself, in a secret confidence, confessed to him having discovered clues suggesting an alteration of his mental faculties. This revelation, although reassuring, did nothing to ease the torment that gnawed at him. That was why he made the unwavering promise to protect Hadrian and his family in return, no matter what. Wasn't that the duty of a father and an honourable Lord? He would never let them down. He could no longer afford to.
His gaze then turned to Daphne, his eldest. He had to admit, he was in awe of his daughter. She embodied the most prized qualities of all Hogwarts houses. She possessed the ambition, cunning, and intelligence of her mother, which opened her the doors of Ravenclaw and Slytherin. But to these traits were added an undeniable strength of character and an unwavering loyalty to her loved ones.
She would undoubtedly make a worthy Lady Greengrass. Better yet, if fate took the course he envisioned, she would become an equally respectable Lady Potter-Greengrass.
Indeed, he noticed the mutual attraction between the two teenagers. Harry Potter had been for his daughter the saviour that Hadrian had been for him, with the only difference being that she fell in love with her fellow heir. He himself, despite all his admiration for Hadrian, had already given his heart to the woman of his life after all.
Deep down, he hoped that she would always be able to count on him, no matter what the future held. Hadrian had informed him of the dire fate that might threaten Harry, and although his paternal instinct urged him to intervene, he couldn't bring himself to break his daughter's heart, preferring to let her follow through with her feelings.
He also knew that Daphne was suffering terribly from the loss of Astoria. His youngest daughter's coma deeply concerned him. The reason? Few illnesses were incurable in the wizarding world, especially when they manifested with physical symptoms. So why wasn't Astoria waking up? After numerous discussions with the Potters and Professor Dumbledore, he managed to formulate a hypothesis, but no decision had been made yet.
Indeed, according to the two men, Astoria's coma, although triggered by Ginny's spell, could be prolonged by the influence of Riddle's diary. This object, having the power to absorb the magic and life force of those around it and having potentially been used by his daughter, suggested that she was being kept on the brink of death, her magic preferring to keep her unconscious to focus on the healing of her soul, the only part of a person that cannot be truly analysed.
His only wish was for his daughter's imminent awakening. He didn't know how much longer he could remain stoic in the face of his wife's tears, who begged him to explain the reason for this punishment. As tenacious as he was, no man could remain eternally strong in that situation.
Shaking his head to dispel these heavy thoughts, he reminded himself of his mission: 'I have a role to play!'
In the distance, he saw Hadrian conversing with Lady Longbottom, his confident smile illuminating the assembly. This man was a beacon of hope for all the wizards present. Even he had to admit his incomprehension of the wizard's true power. Had he not managed to break the ancestral protections of Greengrass Manor, reinforced by the magic of the curse, in a single duel? What extraordinary creature could accomplish such a feat?
The powerful wizard, with his apparent omniscience, turned in his direction and nodded, a gesture that Alexander returned. 'That man's eyes should be considered as weapons in their own right,' the former Slytherin muttered before approaching a familiar face.
"Lady Bones, what a pleasure to see you here!" he greeted her, extending his hand towards the woman who took it. Ordinarily, social conventions would have dictated a kiss on her hand, but given her plain attire, it seemed that the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was present in her capacity as an official, and not as Lady Bones.
"The pleasure is mine, Lord Greengrass. I am infinitely grateful to you, as well as to Lord Black and Lord Potter, for your support in this matter. For a whole year, these Dementors have terrorised our children at Hogwarts. I am sincerely relieved that this ordeal is coming to an end, even if it means the permanent presence of Aurors within the school. After all, thanks to Lord Potter's donation, we were able to accommodate a larger number of students at the Auror academy this year, which allows us to support this measure," she declared, not hiding the relief that washed over her.
Alexander knew the woman's niece attended Hogwarts. He easily understood her concern, given that the girl had more than likely encountered these monstrous creatures in the line of duty.
"Don't worry, I understand perfectly. With my own daughter attending the school, it was my duty to support Lord Potter's decision," he replied, offering her a reassuring smile.
The woman's expression cooled slightly, a change that Alexander easily perceived. After all, Amelia and he had attended Hogwarts together. Although they had never been close friends, he knew that this reaction was a defence mechanism.
"I've also heard about the tragic situation affecting your daughter... Please accept my sincere condolences. Do not hesitate to ask for my assistance as the head of the Department of Magical Law if I can be of any help," she declared, staring at him with a determined gaze.
Alexander bowed his head, unable to hide a slight grimace. "Thank you very much, I'll think about it." He then discreetly moved away with the woman who understood his desire to converse in private. He placed his empty glass on a table and watched it disappear before turning to the former Hufflepuff.
"And otherwise, Amelia, these rumours of disappearances, kidnappings, and other misdeeds... Are they true ?" he asked, worried.
Once again, his interlocutor's face contorted. "Unfortunately, yes. We've even arrested vampires and werewolves from other continents. Similar events have occurred in the past, certainly, but never on such a scale and in such a short time. I fear we are heading towards a rather dark future," she admitted, clenching her fists. She then scanned the room.
"Knockturn Alley is overflowing with people, factions are beginning to clash... Be careful, Alexander, because if the events of that time repeat themselves, even your closest friend can become your worst enemy," she declared firmly.
Alexander nodded, still remembering the tragic fate of young Harry's parents, betrayed by one of their best friends who turned out to be one of the Dark Lord's most devoted followers.
"I will be vigilant," he assured her, before being interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. Alexander turned to see a wizard he didn't recognize.
The man was tall and thin. His greasy black hair was slicked back, as if it had been hastily styled. He had piercing grey eyes and a pale face marked by scars, including a deep gash on his forehead.
"Can I help you with anything?" Alexander asked. "Yes, I'm a friend of Hadrian. Can we talk privately for a moment? He gave me a message for you."
For a moment, the man triggered the alarms inside Alexander's head. Hadrian had few friends and the Lord of the Greengrass family knew them all, including those who had fought alongside him in Mexico.
He turned his gaze to Amelia, but she had already left. How long had he been lost in thought?
"Of course! Come, I know a quiet place," he said with a smile before leaving the large dining room of Potter Manor, trusting Hadrian to supervise his wife and daughter.
He decided to put his worries aside. After all, the safeguards at Potter Manor were almost as strong as those at Hogwarts. So if Hadrian had let the man in, it was because he trusted him.
"I know a place in the basement where we won't be disturbed. Is Hadrian's message important?" asked Alexander as he guided the man in.
The man nodded, not answering vocally. The former Slytherin then fell silent, preferring to save his voice for the discussion he would have with the man.
In the distance, Hadrian, who had finished his own discussion with Lady Longbottom long ago, smirked as the two men left the room.
"The game has begun," he murmured, raising his glass.
11/02/1994, 23H32, Hogwarts, Scotland:
Harry pushed open the door of the abandoned classroom, his eyes quickly scanning the room through the darkness. He then spotted Daphne, sitting with her back in his direction. Checking one last time that he hadn't been followed, he cancelled the spell that hid his presence and entered the room.
When she heard the sound of their classroom door closing, the young blonde girl turned and saw Harry Potter walking towards her. He sat down on a chair he had pulled up, facing her. A heavy silence settled between them, lasting for an indeterminate amount of time. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Years? Only their gazes seemed to feel the passage of time.
The atmosphere was heavy, and the air seemed so dense that you could slice it with a knife. It was finally Harry who broke the silence by gently taking Daphne's hand in his.
"Hi, it's been a long time, hasn't it?" he murmured. His whisper, in the absence of any other sound, resonated in the room like a shout.
"Yes, indeed..." she sighed, contemplating their joined hands.
"I heard you went through a... difficult time," he let out, his gaze lost in the depths of the Slytherin's cerulean eyes.
Daphne nodded in agreement. "This year has been the longest of my life, Potter. I felt... lonely," she confessed, her voice trembling, as if she could no longer maintain the mask of coldness and impassivity she usually wore.
Harry, touched by her confession, took her in his arms. He knew that no words could soothe her pain. Her sister was still in a deep coma, her father had taken refuge in work before being tragically murdered last summer, and to top it all off, he had abandoned her to follow his training.
Tears ran down his neck and soaked his shirt. Harry didn't know that Daphne never broke down in tears in front of anyone else but him, thus testifying to the absolute trust she had in him. However, he understood that he was the only one who could comfort her.
"It's all over now, Daphne. I'm here. I'll never leave you again. I'll never leave you alone again," he repeated with conviction.
"You promise?" she asked in a tiny, almost inaudible voice. Her fragile intonation broke Harry's heart. He hoped with all his being that she would never have to plead like that.
"I promise you, Daphne," he affirmed, resting his chin on her head.
They remained embraced for a few more moments, before separating, reluctantly.
"You've wet my beautiful shirt," Harry joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere and bring a smile back to the magnificent young woman standing in front of him.
"Serves you right, Potter. Let that be a lesson to you!" she exclaimed, bursting into laughter at his feigned offence.
"This splendid shirt belonged to my ancestors of the ancient and noble House of Po-" he began before she interrupted him with a tap on the knee.
"I don't care! It could have belonged to Merlin himself and I wouldn't care anyway!"
Harry couldn't help but laugh at the young blonde woman's audacity. Finally, the tension eased, and Harry was able to start a more serious conversation.
"I know you wanted to talk to me, but before that, I just want to say that I missed you. I'm glad to see you in... such good shape," he said with a wink.
"I'm glad to see you too, Potter. But my standards are high, you know that, right?" she taunted, making him blush as he hurried to apologise.
"Anyway, you're right, I wanted to talk to you. Harry, please be honest with me... Were you there the day my father died?" she asked in a grave tone.
Harry, noticing the girl's seriousness, focused intently. "If you're referring to the day my uncle organised that party, then yes. However, I was training in the basement, so I don't know if I can be of much help," he explained in the face of her inquisitive gaze.
He watched the young woman squint her eyes, making him assume she was slightly annoyed by his absence, before she asked another question. "And you didn't see my father?" she added, leaning towards him.
"Actually, yes, I did see him. But it was still early, so I doubt that could-" She cut him off abruptly. "Explain yourself!" she snapped.
Harry nodded, preferring to avoid the Slytherin's anger. "Okay, okay!" he said, raising his hands. "I saw your father go down to the basement during my break. He was with a man, but I couldn't clearly distinguish his features in the darkness. I only know that he had a scar on his forehead."
The young woman tilted her head to the side, her gaze lost in space. She seemed to be reviewing all the faces she had crossed paths with in her life, searching for the one Harry had briefly described.
The Gryffindor continued his story. "We exchanged a few brief words. He told me you were looking forward to seeing me again, and I told him it wouldn't be long. Then he left with that man. I'm sorry, but I don't have any more information."
She looked at him, seeming to verify his words, before asking another question. "You didn't see anything else, you're sure?"
Something strange happened then. For half a second, Daphne saw Harry's face contort, before it returned to normal. The time interval was so short that she decided to ignore what had just happened, and to give the benefit of the doubt to the boy she trusted.
"I'm sure. I didn't see anything else that could have been a threat to your father."
Daphne nodded in agreement and put her free hand to her chin, indicating that she was deep in thought again. A silence settled for a few moments, before she broke it.
"I believe you, Potter," she finally acknowledged. "But I need to know what happened that night if I want to be able to move on at some point. That's why I'd like to propose an alliance."
Harry tilted his head, visibly interested in the idea. "I'll help you gather information and prepare yourself for the tournament trials, and in return you'll help me with the investigation of my father's death,
The young hero of the wizarding world looked up at the ceiling of the abandoned room as if it knew the answer to his inner question. The exchanges he had with the young girl in the past had been extremely fruitful, and it was clear to him that she would provide him with invaluable support, whatever the trials ahead. Without further ado, he plunged his gaze into hers, with a depth and intensity that left no doubt as to his determination. "We have an agreement, Miss Greengrass," he said in a firm, resolute voice.
Just as they were about to seal their pact with a firm handshake, they realised, with a hint of amusement, that their hands were still tightly clasped. "Well, I guess that counts as an agreement?" he chuckled, waving their intertwined hand in front of their faces, a mischievous grin spreading across his lips.
Daphne, flustered by the reminder of their proximity and the warmth emanating from his hand, could only blush and nod timidly. Putting aside the delicate subjects that had weighed heavily on their conversation, they found themselves discussing lighter topics, talking about their respective training, the places they travelled to, and memories of Daphne's third year at Hogwarts.
Harry seemed particularly captivated by Daphne's anecdotes about Draco Malfoy, which suddenly made him aware of a notable absence. "He didn't come to make his usual comments earlier," he remarked, intrigued by this unusual change of attitude. "It's strange now that I think about it…"
Daphne frowned thoughtfully. "Indeed, he's seemed rather distant since the beginning of the term. He doesn't talk about his father anymore and spends most of his time alone. Do you think something happened at Malfoy Manor this summer?" she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
She felt no particular sympathy for the young Slytherin and couldn't even help but feel a certain satisfaction in seeing him diminished, after all the insults and mockery he had directed at her and her sister. However, she wasn't unaware of the seriousness of the situation. If an event at Malfoy Manor had been able to tame Draco's usual insolence, it could only have been an incident with dramatic consequences.
"I don't know," Harry replied, sighing heavily. "Let's hope our assumptions are wrong." Rising with a fluid motion, he gently released the blonde's hand, his mind already preoccupied with the prospect of the challenges that awaited them.
"I'm going to go, Daphne, it's getting late, and the first task is coming up very quickly," Harry declared, not hiding his disappointment at having to temporarily separate from the Slytherin.
With a graceful movement, she stood up, nodding in elegant agreement. Her voice, when she spoke, had softened, taking on melodic intonations that contrasted with the usual coldness of her tone. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Harry," she stated sincerely.
The Gryffindor, on the verge of making an ironic remark about the use of his first name, thought better of it and offered her in return a smile filled with genuine warmth. "Me too, Daphne," he replied softly. "I hope this year brings us many pleasant moments, both for you and for me."
As he approached the door, he couldn't help but take one last look at the girl, a wry sneer forming on his lips. "By the way, you look absolutely beautiful"' he added with a mischievous wink. "It's nice to see that you've... grown up."
He was expecting a furious reaction from her, a scathing insult or a spell cast behind his back. That was why he had waited until he was near the exit to make this daring remark. However, to his surprise, she simply replied: "You're not looking that bad yourself, Potter. That said, unlike you, I can't check whether it's grown or not…"
Her sentence ended with a mischievous look directed at his crotch, leaving Harry stunned. An uncontrollable laugh escaped his lips, so taken had he been by the audacity of her retort. But as a Gryffindor, he couldn't remain insensitive in the face of such courage and such a repartee.
'This year promises to be full of twists and turns,' they thought simultaneously as they left the classroom, each heading for their respective dormitories, their hearts light and their minds filled with joyful anticipation.
11/12/1994, 18H14, Novossibirsk, Russia:
A spectre of dread hung over Fortuna Moon. For more than two weeks, the man she lov… Her colleague and friend, Hadrian Potter, had vanished without a trace.
Their joint quest to hunt down Alexei, begun seventeen months earlier, had led them through distant and perilous lands. Several times, they crossed paths with the dark wizard, even managing to fatally wound him in a memorable confrontation. Or so they thought.
Against all odds, Alexei had resurfaced, his wounds miraculously healed, more powerful and fearsome than ever. Faced with this unexpected resurgence, they had decided to temporarily separate in order to cover a larger area. According to their information, Alexei never strayed far from the Russian borders. So they had divided the country into two zones, relentlessly chaining reconnaissance missions.
Fortuna had taken charge of the northern part, while Hadrian explored the south. Each mission followed the same ritual: departure, meticulous exploration of a specific area, then return to Potter Manor, where Fortuna had taken up residence, to share their findings.
For several weeks, this system had worked without a hitch. However, since Hadrian's departure for Novossibirsk, a deafening silence had reigned.
Fortuna desperately tried to reach him by owl, as had Lord Black and Remus Lupin, but in vain. Even Hecate, Hadrian's personal messenger, circled in his office before landing on his perch, the letter still in his beak.
It was from that precise moment that worry had seized her. She knew Hadrian Potter's strength better than anyone and was aware that it would take more than just an army of wizards to defeat him. Her unwavering faith in his abilities had prevented her from considering the worst.
But faced with her friend's persistent absence, she had to face reality. First, because an owl almost always finds its target, the only exceptions being powerful protections or a tragic death. And for her, it was inconceivable that Hadrian would seek to hide from the world.
But above all, the other reason that led her to consider the worst was the state of the last city visited by the lord of the Potter family: Novossibirsk.
"This damn city is a ruin," she exclaimed, skillfully lifting a pile of debris.
Indeed, the once bustling city was now reduced to a smoking ruin.
Fear froze Fortuna's heart. She refused to believe that Hadrian had fallen to Alexei, but the deafening silence and the state of Novossibirsk whispered a terrible truth to her.
Determined to find her friend, she vowed never to give up the search. Even in the face of darkness and despair, she drew on her strength and courage to keep moving forward, guided by the hope of one day seeing Hadrian's smile again.
The sight that met her eyes was of unimaginable violence. Debris littered the ground, immense pools of dried blood testified to a fierce battle, and the bodies of Muggles lay scattered here and there, broken and twisted in an inhuman way. Everything suggested that a horrible battle had taken place here.
And she knew perfectly well the only person capable of inflicting such damage before succumbing. "Hadrian, damn it, what happened here?" she exclaimed, her heart pounding.
It was completely beyond her comprehension. Deep down, she knew Hadrian was far more powerful than Alexei. She had seen it with her own eyes during their first battle against the dark wizard and his army. So who could possibly have been his opponent?
Scanning the ruins around her, she spotted a small collapsed house whose rear opened onto an inner courtyard. At first glance, this information seemed insignificant. However, in that same courtyard, she detected traces of magic. Among those was a magical signature that she recognized without the shadow of a doubt.
"Alexei! So he was here after all!" she growled, summoning her broom and flying towards the magical traces.
Her mind was racing. Why hadn't the newspapers mentioned the destruction of the city yet? Why, despite the presence of these immense pools of dried blood, could she find no corpses? And above all... Why, next to the remnants of Alexei's magic, was she discovering those of the man she had fallen in love with?
Landing in the small courtyard, she immediately noticed significant burn marks on the walls. But that didn't add up. Hadrian's fire, of which she had found traces during her search, was of devastating power, capable of consuming everything in its path, even walls. Yet such marks couldn't be the work of a simple Incendio.
If Alexei excelled at creating golems and general metamorphosis, he had never demonstrated the ability to properly master a Fiendfyre. So, once again, the question burned on her lips: 'What the hell happened here?!'
During these last few months, she had found Hadrian rather strange. Since they started working together, she had noticed a certain coldness behind his pleasant facade. It was, in fact, one of the aspects that had drawn her to him. This determination, coupled with his magical strength, made him the perfect man in her eyes.
But the months she had spent in his company just before his disappearance had been rather disturbing. Owls coming and going at all hours of the day, sudden departures without explanation...
She tried to probe him, to understand what was troubling him. But the man would simply smile at her and reassure her, pretending to have everything under control.
However, the scene before her today cruelly contradicted his words. Fortuna felt lost, overwhelmed by a flood of unanswered questions. The man she loved was in danger, and she had no idea what had happened to him.
The death of his friend Alexander had deeply marked him. Since that tragic event, Hadrian had often seemed distant, his gaze sometimes lost in space for long minutes.
For a few days, she had even doubted his identity, wondering if an impostor had taken his place. But a few discreet diagnostic spells had allowed her to confirm that the wizard standing before her was indeed Hadrian.
His magical power was still as unmatched, but a deep change inhabited him. Sometimes his eyes would shine with a disturbing glow through his headband, causing him to abruptly abandon his tasks to take refuge in his office.
Fortuna felt like he was overwhelmed by the trials that were piling up. "Maybe..." she breathed, her throat tight. Maybe his schedule had been overloaded since Alexander's death? Managing Potter affairs, training Harry, looking for a cure for the young Greengrass girl, fulfilling his professional responsibilities and attending meetings with his allies... Had all this weight led him to make a fatal mistake, a trap from which he couldn't escape?
She pushed the morbid thought away with a wave of her hand. "Don't be stupid, Fortuna," she murmured to herself. But her breath caught in her throat when she saw a large pool of dried blood on the ground.
Unlike the other traces she had observed, this one carried disturbing clues. Torn shreds of a black cloak lay beside a piece of decomposing flesh that she recognized as a fragment of a leg.
There was no doubt about its owner. She had worked alongside this man for over a year.
"Hadrian..." she murmured, falling to her knees in front of the remains of the garment. The conviction struck her that the piece of flesh also belonged to her fellow bounty hunter. The boot attached to it confirmed her identification. Under the sole, she recognized the small poisoned needles she had herself installed, after noticing his impressive stock of these weapons that he never seemed to use in combat.
Desperate, she searched the cloak, knowing full well what she would find there. Her fingers ran through the many pockets until they stopped on a familiar knife. It was his, the same one he had used to defeat many opponents.
Unable to contain her grief, she collapsed in tears, weeping for the first time since her parents' death over the loss of a loved one. Pain overwhelmed her, a mixture of incomprehension, guilt, and immense sadness.
She felt lost, alone, crushed by the immensity of the ruined city around her.
Suddenly, a wave of terror washed over her. Her heart pounded, her lungs tightened in a vice, and she felt like she couldn't breathe. The debris around her transformed into menacing monsters, the sounds of the wind into evil laughter.
Fortuna collapsed to the ground, trembling and panicked. Her mind was filled with dark thoughts and terrifying images. She felt like she was going to die, like the whole world was falling apart around her.
She tried to calm down, to catch her breath, but her body wouldn't obey her. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixed with a few drops of blood from her fingers rubbing against the stone. She felt powerless, vulnerable, lost in an ocean of fear.
Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on her breathing. She inhaled slowly through her nose, then exhaled deeply through her mouth. One by one, she repeated these movements, trying to calm her racing heart.
Gradually, the crisis began to subside. The wave of terror receded, leaving a feeling of fatigue and exhaustion. Fortuna opened her eyes, her eyelids heavy. The world around her seemed less threatening, the noises less frightening.
Hadrian's words came back to her, spoken when they returned after leaving Alexei at death's door: "Be careful. Even if Alexei is physically dead, he's still out there. He's there through his surviving men, his questionable ideologies, and everything that characterised him. A wizard only truly dies when everything associated with him, near or far, is forgotten. Until that happens, stay focused on your goal."
These words had deeply marked the young woman. Today, she used them against him, turning her pain into an unwavering determination. "As long as I live, as long as Harry Potter lives, then you live too, Hadrian. It's not over, I swear to you. I will discover the truth!" she whispered to the cloak in her hands.
With a quick gesture, she shrank the cloak and put it in her pocket. She then retrieved the knife, made the piece of flesh disappear and apparated away, a new goal burning in her mind. "Becoming stronger can wait. I need to understand what led you to... this!" she declared to the sky, praying against all hope that her message would reach the man she loved.
Pain consumed her, but she refused to be overwhelmed by despair. The flame of hope burned within her, fueled by the love she had for Hadrian and the conviction that there was something left of him. And she was determined to find that something, no matter the cost.