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29th of October 1994, Hogwarts Grounds
The cool evening air was crisp against Adrian's skin as he jogged along the paths that cut through the grounds. The rhythmic step of his shoes on the damp earth and the steady beat of his breathing were the only sounds accompanying him. Most of the castle had already settled in for the evening, but Adrian found peace in these moments—just him, the night, and the open expanse of the Hogwarts grounds.
He slowed his pace as he neared the edge of the Black Lake, its surface reflecting the soft silver glow of the moonlight. The water rippled gently, stirred by the occasional breeze. Adrian paused, hands on his hips, catching his breath.
"One more lap," he muttered to himself, rolling his neck. His muscles protested slightly but Adrian set off again, his pace steady as he followed the winding path that looped back toward the castle.
Turning away from the lake, He adjusted his pace and began the climb back toward the castle. The towering silhouette of Hogwarts showed itself in the distance, its warm glow spilling from the windows like beacons in the night. He let his mind wander as he jogged, thinking about his duel with Flitwick, the Junior Duelling Circuit, and everything he had to prepare for.
By the time he reached the courtyard outside the main castle entrance, his pace had slowed to a brisk walk. The soft trickle of the fountain echoed faintly, blending with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. The lanterns that adorned the courtyard cast a nice glow on the area.
That was when he noticed them.
Malfoy stood near the fountain, his pale hair catching the lantern light. Behind him loomed his ever-present goons, Crabbe and Goyle, who looked as dim-witted and hulking as ever. Facing Malfoy was Daphne Greengrass, her arms crossed and her posture perfectly poised. Even from a distance, Adrian could sense the tension in the air.
He slowed his steps, moving carefully into the shadows of the courtyard's stone arches. He stayed silent, his curiosity piqued. Eavesdropping wasn't exactly a noble habit, but he couldn't help himself—something about the scene demanded his attention.
He moved quietly, his footsteps muffled by the soft grass and stone, until the voices became clearer.
"...you're overthinking it, Greengrass," came Malfoy's unmistakable drawl, laced with smugness.
Adrian's brow furrowed. He crept closer, staying within the shadows of the stone arches lining the courtyard. The fountain's trickling sound was the only thing breaking the tense silence between them, though the rustling leaves overhead seemed to whisper in protest at Malfoy's arrogance.
Malfoy stood with his usual air of entitlement, his pale hair glowing under the courtyard lanterns. Behind him were Crabbe and Goyle, their looming figures making them look like a pair of oversized gargoyles. Daphne stood opposite, her arms crossed tightly across her chest.
"I'm not interested, Malfoy," Daphne said, her voice cool but measured. "And I doubt my family would be, either."
Malfoy smirked, the corners of his mouth curling in that infuriating way Adrian knew all too well. "Oh, come now, Daphne. You don't need to play coy with me. Think about it—our families, united. The Malfoys and the Greengrass's. It's the kind of alliance that ensures strength, stability… and power."
Daphne's stance stiffened slightly. "I don't think my father would appreciate being talked down to about alliances, Malfoy. The Greengrasses know where they stand. We don't need anyone else to 'ensure' our strength."
Adrian raised a brow from his hiding spot. Solid deflection, he thought. But he could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers twitched against her arm.
Malfoy's smirk deepened, as if he were playing a game. "Perhaps. But even your father would see the sense in this match. You'd make a suitable wife, Daphne. Someone with your... stature." He gave her a slow, appraising look that made Adrian's fingers twitch toward his wand.
Daphne's jaw tightened, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face before she steeled herself. Her tone remained steady, but Adrian could hear the edge beneath it. "A wife isn't just someone's accessory, Malfoy. And I can assure you, I have no interest in being anyone's."
Behind him, Crabbe let out a low, dim-witted chuckle, and Goyle cracked his knuckles as if that somehow added weight to Malfoy's argument. Adrian resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
Malfoy leaned forward slightly, his tone dropping to something quieter, more insistent. "You're looking at this the wrong way, Daphne. Marrying me isn't just about you. It's about your family's future. Think about the position we'd hold together—two pureblood families, bound by tradition. It's what's expected of us."
Daphne hesitated for a heartbeat, her composure flickering as she chose her words carefully. "What's expected of us, Draco, is to represent our families with dignity and strength—not to play into some juvenile fantasy of yours."
Adrian smirked in the shadows. Nice.
Malfoy's expression darkened for a split second, but he quickly masked it with that ever-present smirk. "Careful, Greengrass. I'd hate for your family to fall out of favour with the wrong people."
There it was—the veiled threat. Adrian's grip tightened on his wand, his muscles tensing. But he forced himself to stay put. This wasn't his fight—yet. He did want to pummel Malfoy a lot but right now? No. Not right now.
Daphne's chin lifted slightly, her composure like Armor. Her voice softened just enough to take the edge off without backing down. "That sounds an awful lot like a threat, Draco. And I don't think your father would approve of you making enemies where there are none."
Malfoy straightened, his smirk faltering for the briefest moment before returning. "It's not a threat," he said smoothly, though his tone carried a bite. "It's a reminder. My father has influence—enough to make life very comfortable for his allies. Or... less so for those who think themselves above their station."
Daphne took a measured breath, her arms dropping to her sides but her posture still poised. "You may want to rethink how you approach people, Malfoy. Power and respect aren't the same thing. I suggest you learn the difference."
Adrian felt a swell of admiration at her balance of defiance and caution. She wasn't cowering, but she wasn't recklessly antagonizing him, either. Smart. Not like Adrian. He had started antagonizing Malfoy before he even knew who he was. He could learn a thing or two from Daphne, but then again... He enjoyed taking the piss out of Malfoy a bit too much to actually care about pureblood politics. Fuck them all.
Malfoy's face flushed, the confidence in his expression slipping slightly. "You'll change your mind, Greengrass," he said, his tone more petulant now. "You'll see that I'm right. Eventually, you'll realize you don't have much of a choice."
Daphne's lips pressed into a thin line. "Goodnight, Malfoy." Her tone was firm, final, but not loud enough to provoke him further. She turned on her heel, her hair catching the light as she strode away from the fountain.
Adrian stayed hidden, waiting until Daphne had disappeared down one of the corridors leading to the castle. He let his gaze shift back to Malfoy, who was now glaring after her, muttering something under his breath.
Crabbe and Goyle shifted awkwardly, looking as though they weren't sure if they should laugh or stand still.
"Come on," Malfoy snapped, his irritation clear. "Let's go."
Adrian watched Malfoy and his goons leave the courtyard and go back into the castle. Its the same old shit every time isn't it. Pure blood politics. People thinking they're better than others because of their blood status. But Adrian knew better. Blood doesn't give you power. Only Magic does. For Magic is Might.
Words to live by. Sometimes he wished that he could change the world on his lonesome. Making it a better place for everyone. Ridding Nepotism and Corruption from the Government and protecting the continent.
It was an idealistic thought, one he'd had countless times before. But how? How could one person, even with the greatest magic, dismantle centuries of ingrained prejudice and power structures? The system wasn't built to change—it thrived on staying the same, on keeping people like Malfoy at the top and others beneath them.
Adrian's footsteps echoed lightly as he crossed the courtyard, heading toward the main doors of the castle. He let his mind wander, the cool night air doing little to soothe the simmering frustration bubbling inside him.
What if someone did rise up? Not just to fight the symptoms of the problem, but to uproot it entirely. A wizard who didn't care about bloodlines, family names, or the political games everyone seemed so obsessed with. A leader who valued strength, skill, and integrity above all else. Someone willing to put everything on the line to make the world better, fairer.
Adrian let out a quiet, bitter laugh. It was a nice dream, but the reality was much bleaker. People like Malfoy didn't just disappear—they multiplied. And they had power. Money. Influence. All the things that made change feel impossible. Still, if there was one thing Adrian knew about himself, it was that he wasn't one to back down from a fight. If the world was going to stay broken, he'd be damned if he didn't try to do something about it.
Magic is Might.
The phrase echoed in his mind, a mantra he had repeated to himself since his days at Durmstrang. But it wasn't about domination or fear like the Malfoys would twist it to mean. To Adrian, it was about the purity of magic itself—the strength it gave, the freedom it offered. It was the great equalizer, the one thing that didn't care where you came from or who your parents were. Magic chose its wielder, and it was up to them to prove their worth.
He walked into the castle and made his way towards the Common room. Maybe, just maybe, there were others who saw the cracks in the system and wanted to fix them too. Could he ever do anything about it? Gather like minded people and change it all together? Eh. Bit too idealistic. But then again... who knows. This world is full of wonders.
Adrian walked through the castle corridors, his footsteps echoing lightly against the stone floor as he made his way toward the Ravenclaw Tower. The night was quiet now, most students already tucked away in their common rooms, leaving the halls dimly lit by the glow of enchanted lanterns.
As he passed a small group of first-years giggling their way back toward the Gryffindor common room, something odd caught his eye. A figure—bluish and faintly glowing—drifted across the corridor ahead of him, weaving through the students like a spectre. Adrian froze mid-step, gobsmacked. The ghostly figure moved with purpose, completely unnoticed by the students it passed through.
"What the hell…?" Adrian whispered under his breath.
His curiosity flared. It wasn't like the Hogwarts ghosts—Peeves or the Grey Lady—or even like the enchanted suits of armor clanking about. No, this figure was… different. Ethereal, almost translucent, yet solid enough that Adrian could make out the outline of a long cloak and the broad shoulders of what looked like a middle-aged man.
Without thinking, Adrian followed.
The figure walked briskly, never turning back, and Adrian quickened his pace to keep up. He glanced around, but the students nearby didn't even seem to notice. Not one head turned, not one whisper of acknowledgment. It was as though he was the only one who could see it.
As Adrian trailed the glowing figure, he realized it wasn't walking aimlessly. It moved with a sense of purpose, passing through walls and doors as if they didn't exist. He weaved through the winding corridors, his curiosity growing stronger with every step. It wasn't until the figure reached the second-floor corridor that Adrian began to piece together where they were headed.
The girls' lavatory.
Adrian hesitated, slowing his steps. "Seriously?" he muttered, his voice low. His eyes flicked around to make sure no one was watching. The last thing he needed was a rumor about him sneaking into a girls' bathroom. But the figure didn't stop. It glided straight through the door, leaving a faint blue shimmer in its wake.
Adrian clenched his jaw. He should turn around, head back to his dorm, and forget about this whole thing. It was probably nothing—just another weird Hogwarts mystery he'd never get an answer to. But something tugged at him, something instinctual, primal even, telling him to keep going.
He pushed open the bathroom door.
The sound of dripping water echoed faintly in the empty space. It was eerily quiet, the air heavy with the faint scent of mildew. The dim light from the enchanted candles cast long shadows across the cracked mirrors and stained sinks.
Adrian stepped inside cautiously, his eyes scanning the room. "Alright, where'd you go?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Then he saw it.
One of the sinks at the middle of the room glowed faintly with the same ethereal blue light. The shimmering figure stood beside it, motionless now, as if waiting. Adrian could see the faint outline of the man more clearly now—long robes, a neatly trimmed beard, and an air mystery. But there was something… off. He didn't look fully real, like he was a projection of something and far away.
Adrian swallowed, his throat dry. He took a cautious step forward, his voice low. "Hey. Who… what are you?"
The figure didn't respond. The light on the sink intensified, swirling like liquid magic. The figure turned, its movements unnaturally smooth, and began to fade away, dissolving into the glow.
"Wait!" Adrian called, rushing forward, but it was too late. The figure was gone.
All that remained was the sink, pulsing faintly with the blue glow.
Adrian hesitated, glancing over his shoulder toward the door. His instincts screamed at him to turn back, to leave this whole thing alone. But his curiosity had always been stronger than his common sense. He stepped closer to the sink, his heart beating fast.
The glowing mark on the sink's surface seemed to ripple like water. Without fully understanding why, Adrian reached out. His fingers brushed the mark.
The world shifted.
Adrian felt his stomach lurch as a strange, pulling sensation gripped him, like he was being yanked through space. His vision went black, the air rushing past him in a whirlwind of sound and pressure. His body felt weightless, his magic surging wildly in response to the sensation.
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped.
Adrian stumbled forward, his feet hitting solid ground. He blinked, his vision adjusting to the dim light. The air was damp and cold, carrying a faint, musty smell. As his surroundings came into focus, he yelped like a little girl. Bit embarrassing that. Wasn't without a reason though.
He was standing in a massive chamber.
Towering snake statues lined the walls, their cold stone eyes staring down at him with an eerie stillness. The chamber stretched endlessly into the shadows, its centrepiece a colossal statue of a man with a long beard and severe features. The atmosphere thrummed faintly with magic—ancient and powerful.
Adrian took a shaky step forward, his voice barely a whisper. "What in the fu—"
"Who the fuck are you?"
The voice cut through the silence like a knife. Adrian whipped around, his wand instinctively raised.
Standing a few feet away was the figure from before, no longer ethereal. The man looked solid now—tangible. He had the appearance of a middle-aged wizard, his robes finely detailed with intricate patterns, his face lined with an air of quiet authority. His eyes glowed faintly blue, matching the aura that surrounded him.
Adrian blinked, his mind racing. "Me?! Who the fuck are you?"
The man raised an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed. "Bold question for someone who just barged into my domain."
"Your domain?" Adrian shot back, lowering his wand slightly but not letting his guard drop. "You're the one who led me here. You've got some explaining to do."
The man tilted his head, studying Adrian with an almost clinical curiosity. "I didn't lead you here. You followed me. There's a difference."
Adrian opened his mouth to retort but stopped himself. The man had a point.
The figure sighed, crossing his arms. "Bit weird that you decided to follow some random figure hmm?"
Adrian bristled. "Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't leave glowing trails through the castle if you don't want people following you."
The man's lips twitched in something resembling amusement. "Fair enough. But that still doesn't answer the question. Who are you?"
Adrian straightened, his grip tightening on his wand. "Adrian. Adrian Valor."
The man's glowing eyes narrowed slightly. "Right, good to meet you Adrian Valor."
"What is this place? And what the hell are you?" Adrian demanded.
The man hesitated for a moment before gesturing toward the chamber around them. "This… is a sanctuary. A remnant of something far older than you can imagine."
Adrian shifted uncomfortably. The Hogwarts rumour mill was a very fast working thing. And there was one thing that he remembered that sounded oddly familiar with this place. But... that was absurd... No.. surely there is no way.
Adrian glanced around, his heart still pounding. "The Chamber of Secrets?"
The man frowned. "Is that what they're calling it now? Figures. Humans do love their theatrics."
Adrian's brow furrowed. "You're not human?"
"Used to be." the man added. "Now though? Even I'm not sure what I am. I guess you could call me a manifestation of the moste Ancient Magick."
"What the bloody fuck does that mean?"
The figure's glowing eyes seemed to dim slightly, a hint of exasperation creeping into his voice. "It means, boy, that I am what remains of something that once was. Call it a memory, a fragment, a shadow—whatever helps you wrap your head around it. I exist here because this place is steeped in ancient magic, magic older than Hogwarts itself."
Adrian blinked, his grip on his wand tightening as he took a step back. "So… you're not a ghost?"
The man's lips quirked upward in a faint smirk. "A ghost? No. Ghosts are the echoes of mortal souls tethered to the world by unfinished business. I am no such thing. I am a remnant."
"A remnant." Adrian repeated, deadpan. "That's it? Just… Remnant?"
The man raised an eyebrow, his expression unamused. "What would you have me call myself, boy? I have no need for a name. My purpose is tied to this place, not to a title."
Adrian huffed, crossing his arms. "Right. So you're just 'Remnant.' That's not confusing at all. Tell you what, mate, I'm not calling you that. How about… Rem? Short and easy."
The figure tilted his head, as though considering the suggestion. "Rem," he echoed thoughtfully. "Hmm. I suppose that will do. If it pleases you to simplify things, by all means, call me that."
Adrian gave a short nod, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. "Alright then, Rem. Now that we've got that sorted, care to explain what the bloody hell is going on? Why did I follow you into a sink, and what is this place really?"
Rem sighed, his gaze sweeping across the chamber. "As I said, this is a sanctuary. A place woven with ancient magic. It was created centuries ago by one of the founders of this school—a man whose name you surely know, though I doubt you understand the full weight of his legacy."
Adrian followed Rem's gaze, his eyes settling on the towering statue of Salazar Slytherin. His stomach tightened. "Slytherin," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Indeed," Rem said, his voice carrying a note of reverence. "Salazar Slytherin was a man of vision, though his methods were… divisive, to say the least. This chamber was not simply a hiding place for a monster, as your history books might suggest. It was a vault, a repository of knowledge and power. Ancient magic flows through this space, saturating every stone, every shadow. And I am what remains to guard it."
Adrian narrowed his eyes, suspicion creeping into his voice. "Guard it? Guard it from what?"
"From those who would misuse it," Rem replied, his tone grave. "Magic, especially magic as old and as powerful as this, has a way of attracting the wrong sort of people. Those who seek to exploit it for their own gain. Slytherin made it so that people who could speak the tongue of the serpent could access this place. And that made it so that a single bloodline in Britain could use this place for their own means. And this chamber was used for those means very recently to try and hurt muggle-borns."
Adrian felt his blood boil. So it was all true then? A piece of Voldemort had used this place only two years ago. That means that fucker was really alive.
"Wait, aren't you supposed to guard this place? How did Voldemort use it then? Isn't you purpose... exactly that? Bit of a shit guard if you ask me." Adrian added with a chuckle. The absurdity of the situation was finally weighing on him.
Rem gave Adrian an angry look. "By my nature I cannot hurt magical beings stupid child. I can only guide and warn them. Slytherins bloodline for the last thousand years decided to not heed my warnings and ignore my guidance."
Adrian raised an eyebrow, the grin still tugging at his lips. "Well, that's bloody helpful, isn't it? You're a guard who can't guard. A guide who gets ignored. No offense, mate, but you're not exactly selling me on the whole 'remnant of ancient magic' thing."
Rem's glowing eyes narrowed. "You have a sharp tongue for someone standing in a place he does not understand, boy."
Adrian shrugged, letting the sarcasm drip from his words. "What can I say? It's how I cope with glowing blokes who drag me through sinks into secret chambers. But fine. Let's assume I believe you. Why can I see you? You said not everyone can."
Rem folded his arms, his aura flickering faintly like a dying ember. "You can see me because you are tied to ancient magic in ways you don't yet understand. It runs through you, woven into the fabric of who you are. You are not the first to possess this gift, nor will you be the last. But it is… rare."
Adrian leaned back slightly, trying to process what he'd just heard. "So what? I've got some ancient magic gene? What does that even mean?"
"It means," Rem said, his tone sharp but not unkind, "that you are more sensitive to magic than most. You can see its threads where others cannot. Feel its pull where others are blind to it. And, if you are willing to learn, you may even wield it in ways that few can comprehend."
Adrian stared at him, his mind racing. Sensitive to magic? Threads? Pulls? It sounded like something out of one of those old wizarding fairy tales his dad used to read to him as a kid. But this was real. Tangible. And if Rem was telling the truth, then Adrian wasn't just some ordinary wizard with a chip on his shoulder—he was something… more.
"And if I don't learn?" Adrian asked, his voice quieter now, more serious. "What happens then?"
"Nothing. You will continue your life as you were, forever blind to the rare ability you posses. You must have realized by now, unless you are a complete imbecile that you are better at magic than others your age. Not my a wild margin mind you, but better at average."
Adrian stopped for a second, narrowing his eyes at Rem. "Better than average? Yeah, I've noticed. But what are you saying? That I've been cheating at magic without realizing it?"
Rem let out a soft chuckle, the sound reverberating faintly in the chamber. "Not cheating, boy. You've simply had an edge—a subtle connection to the ancient forces that linger in the world. It's like... being attuned to a song others cannot hear. You may not understand the melody, but you still move to its rhythm."
Adrian crossed his arms, sceptical. "Right. So, I've got this magical... what? Sixth sense? And it's been helping me without me even knowing it?"
"In essence, yes," Rem replied, his tone measured. "But don't misunderstand. Ancient magic isn't some Deus ex machina that will solve all your problems. It is raw, untamed, and dangerous. It magnifies what is already within you—your strengths, your flaws, your emotions. That is why it must be understood, harnessed, or it will consume you."
Adrian shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Rem's words sinking in. "Okay, so let's say I want to 'harness' it. How do I even start? Is there some kind of spell book I'm supposed to read? A secret handshake? What's the deal?"
Rem tilted his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "There are no spell books for this, Adrian Valor. No handshakes or incantations. Ancient magic predates wands and spells. It's about connection—to yourself, to the world, to the magic that binds everything together. You must learn to feel it, to listen to it. That is where we will begin."
Adrian blinked. "Feel it? Listen to it? You're not exactly being specific, Rem. I'm starting to think you've got a thing for cryptic bullshit."
Rem's smile widened, a glimmer of amusement in his glowing eyes. "Perhaps. Or perhaps the path forward isn't something that can be handed to you on a silver platter. You'll have to work for it."
Adrian groaned, rubbing his temples. "Of course I do. Nothing's ever easy, is it?"
"Rarely," Rem said, stepping closer. His presence seemed to carry a weight that Adrian couldn't quite describe—a blend of authority and expectation. "But tell me this, Adrian: do you want to be ordinary? To blend into the background of history, your potential wasted, your gift unrecognized? Or do you want to rise above, to embrace what you are and see where it takes you?"
Adrian hesitated, the question hanging heavily in the air. He thought of all the times he'd felt different, like he didn't quite fit into the mold of a typical wizard. The moments when his magic had felt... alive, almost as if it had a will of its own. And now here was this glowing, half-ghost wizard telling him it wasn't all in his head—that there was something more to him, something extraordinary.
"Fine," Adrian said finally, his voice steady. "I'm in. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, but I'm not about to let this… ancient magic thing go to waste."
Rem nodded, his expression approving. "Good. Then we begin here, in this chamber. The first step is simple, but not easy. Close your eyes."
Adrian raised an eyebrow. "What? Why?"
"Just do it," Rem said, a hint of impatience creeping into his tone. "And for once, stop asking so many questions."
Adrian frowned, feeling a bit ridiculous, but he took a deep breath and tried to focus. Slowly, as he let go of his thoughts, he became aware of something else—something faint and pulsing, like a heartbeat just beneath the surface of his surroundings.
"There," Rem said softly. "You feel it, don't you?"
Adrian's brow furrowed. "It's... weird. Like static, but... warmer? I don't know how to describe it."
"Good," Rem said. "That is the flow of ancient magic. It is everywhere, but here, it is concentrated. You must learn to connect with it, to draw it toward you."
Adrian frowned deeper. "And how exactly am I supposed to do that?"
"Patience," Rem said. "It will come in time. For now, just feel it. Let it guide you. This is the first step, Adrian. The rest will follow."
Adrian stood there, eyes closed, letting the strange sensation wash over him. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt before—foreign, yet oddly familiar, like an old friend he hadn't seen in years. For the first time, he felt like he was tapping into something far greater than himself.
"Alright," Adrian said finally, opening his eyes. "What's next?"
Rem gestured toward the open expanse of the chamber, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly as though calculating his next move. "Now, I will show you what swifting looks like. Pay close attention, boy. This is not something you'll find in your precious textbooks."
Adrian crossed his arms, skepticism written all over his face. "Alright, go on then. Impress me."
Without another word, Rem turned toward the far end of the chamber. His body tensed slightly, and for a moment, Adrian felt the air grow thicker. Then, with a faint shimmer of blue light, Rem seemed to dissolve into thin air, only to reappear ten meters away in the blink of an eye. There was a whooshing sound and a faint blue trail of light as Rem had displaced his entire being on to another place.
Adrian's jaw dropped. "Holy shit. That was—wait." He straightened, pointing an accusatory finger at Rem. "That was Apparition, wasn't it? Don't lie to me!"
Rem let out a long-suffering sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as though Adrian's sheer existence gave him a migraine. "No, you fool. You cannot Apparate within the grounds of Hogwarts. Surely even you know that. What I just demonstrated is called swifting. It is not Apparition. It is not long-distance travel. It is something entirely different."
Adrian blinked, his confusion evident. "Alright, alright, calm down. Then what the bloody hell is it?"
"Swifting," Rem began, his tone patient but laced with condescension, "is a short-distance movement technique rooted in ancient magic. It allows you to step through the magical threads around you, traveling up to ten meters—or slightly more or less, depending on your skill and control. It is not meant for crossing continents or fleeing from a duel. It is a combative ability, one designed for precision and adaptability in battle."
Adrian's eyes widened slightly. "So, it's like... dodging but on steroids?"
Rem rolled his glowing eyes. "If that simplistic analogy helps your limited mind grasp the concept, then yes. However, this ability is not to be trifled with. Ancient magic is not forgiving to those who use it carelessly. And another thing—do not, under any circumstances, use this ability where others can see you."
Adrian frowned, tilting his head. "Why not?"
"Because," Rem said sharply, "this is not a skill regular wizards will understand. To them, it will look like an oddity, an impossibility. It will raise questions you do not want to answer. Use it here, in this chamber, or in similarly concealed locations. The Forbidden Forest, for instance."
Adrian snorted. "The Forbidden Forest? You mean the place that's literally called forbidden? Great advice there, Rem."
Rem turned slowly to fix Adrian with a glare so sharp it could have cut through steel. "Stop letting arbitrary rules dictate your life, boy. Rules like that are for the masses—those who lack the ability or the will to rise above. If you are to harness ancient magic, you must think beyond such trivial constraints."
Adrian raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, point taken. No arbitrary rules. Got it."
"Good," Rem said, his voice cooling slightly. "Now that you've seen it, it is time for you to try."
Adrian froze, his confidence faltering for the first time. "Wait, me? Now? You've got to be kidding. I barely managed to feel the magic five minutes ago. What makes you think I won't splinch myself—or whatever the equivalent is?"
Rem smirked faintly, his expression unreadable. "You won't splinch yourself, Adrian. Swifting is tied to your connection to ancient magic, not your physical form. However..." He stepped closer, his tone growing serious. "It is not without risk. Fail to align yourself properly, and the magic will reject you. It will throw you back—forcefully."
Adrian swallowed hard. "Throw me back, huh? Sounds... encouraging."
"Enough stalling," Rem said, gesturing toward the space in front of them. "Focus on the magic. Feel its threads. Picture yourself standing ten meters ahead, and let the magic carry you. Do not force it. Swifting is about flow, not power."
Adrian hesitated but eventually took his place in the center of the chamber. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he reached out for that faint, pulsing warmth he had felt earlier. It was there, just beneath the surface, like a current waiting to be tapped into.
"Alright," he muttered to himself. "Feel the magic. Picture the spot. Let it carry me. Easy."
He focused on a spot near one of the snake statues, his mind locking onto it as he tried to let the magic guide him. For a brief moment, he thought he felt it—the pull, the flow. Then, with a surge of determination, he pushed himself forward.
It went horribly wrong.
Instead of gliding smoothly through the magic, Adrian felt a violent jolt, like being yanked off his feet by an invisible force. There was a deafening crack of energy, and before he knew it, he was flying backward. He collided with the stone wall behind him with a resounding thud, the impact knocking the wind out of him.
"Bloody hell!" Adrian groaned, slumping to the ground as pain shot through his back and shoulders. "You could've warned me it'd hurt this much!"
Rem strolled over, his expression as neutral as ever, though his glowing eyes seemed to gleam with faint amusement. "I did warn you. Perhaps you should learn to listen."
Adrian glared at him, wincing as he rubbed his sore shoulder. "Yeah, well, maybe you could've given me a bit more detail on the whole 'don't screw it up' thing."
Rem raised an eyebrow. "You tried to force it, didn't you? I told you—swifting is about alignment, not brute strength. Ancient magic will not bow to your will. It must be respected."
Adrian groaned again, staggering to his feet. "Alright, fine. Lesson learned. But I think I've had enough 'respecting ancient magic' for one night. I need sleep. Can I just come back the same way?"
"Yes," Rem said simply, gesturing toward the glowing mark on the chamber floor. "Touch the mark when you are ready, and it will guide you back here. But be warned: ancient magic demands patience. If you return expecting instant mastery, you will be sorely disappointed."
Adrian nodded, his exhaustion clear in his posture. "Noted. Thanks for the lesson, Rem. Painful as it was."
As he turned toward the glowing mark, a thought struck him, and he paused, glancing back at Rem. "You know, I probably should only use this as a last resort. Don't want people at Hogwarts wondering what the hell I'm doing. But outside of here..." He smirked, his confidence returning. "I could pass it off as being incredibly good at Apparating. Imagine the look on their faces if I pulled it off. That would be sick if I can master it."
Rem raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. "A practical approach. But remember—this is not a party trick, boy. It is a connection to ancient magic, not a tool for boasting. Use it wisely."
Adrian grinned, stepping onto the mark. "Wisely, yeah. Got it. Still, wouldn't hurt to have some fun with it."
The familiar sensation of being pulled through space washed over him, and when he opened his eyes, he was back in the girls' lavatory.
That was definitely something. So he really was special. Well... in a way. This ancient magic thing... it was coursing through him, differentiating him form his peers.
What a night. But he had to get back to his dorms before anyone realized he was outside after curfew.
"Master it, huh?" Adrian muttered to himself, his smirk widening. "Now that would be fun wouldn't it?"
And with that, he headed back toward his dorm.
So, Adrian can see Ancient Magic. I had that idea ever since starting writing this fic and I love Hogwarts Legacy as a game and I think the Ancient magic abilities that the game offered were really cool. I tried my best to use the "Swift" Ability as a starting point for Adrian but as he continues training, he will be able to use all the game abilities and much, much more. Next chapter some more Adrian training and Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arriving.
See y'all later!