Faded Memories

Author's Note

For those who follow me and my odd ramblings, then many of you are likely staring at this notice of mine and thinking: 'what the hell is she doing!'

I can't blame you for that. I'm wondering that myself, honestly, but the truth of this is simple: I watched 'Rise of the Guardians' and I've been reading 'Harry Potter' and the two collided in a dream of mine. This first chapter is the result of my mind having a 'what if' moment. This chapter is a dream written down, a chapter which centers on 'Harry Potter' with some of the elements and history from 'ROTG' thrown in. It is something I have never thought about until now, something that is intriguing and also dark and bitter. Frankly, I only have a small idea of what this story could be. I'm not entirely sure if I'll continue, though I'll let you all decide that once you read it.

Before jumping into the chaos of the chapter, here's a working description:

The first, and only, clear memory he had was of the moon and the name whispered to him upon a cold, winter breeze. He was Hadrian White, ancient yet young. He was the winter and the wind, the earth frozen and the flames iced and silver. He was mischief incarnate. For longer than Hadrian could determine, he had wandered the world. He has raced upon the winds, flown over the ocean, and brought smiles and laughter to those who couldn't see him. He ran through the forests, a grim running at his side. He has danced, naked, with the Wind as his partner. He was nothing more than a ghost, but one that was free to do as it pleased.

When traveling through the forests of magical Europe, Hadrian White's life takes a drastic turn when he saves a young boy from a certain death. The shock, however, is that they can see him. Hadrian, at a loss, tags along with these people and soon finds himself caught in the tides of a war between the Lords of Darkness and Light. As the battle rages on, Hadrian finds himself the center of both their attention. To remain free, Hadrian must learn to harness his powers and uncover the truth surrounding his own fragmented history and history of a war threatening to consume him whole.

With both sides trying to capture him, Hadrian knows he must make a choice:

Become The Light, Lured By The Whisper Of The Silver Shrines,

Become The Darkness, Entrapped By The Blackened Divines,

Become The Dreamer, Holder Of The Immortal Designs.

Like I said, I have a vague idea when it comes to this story - should it actually turn into a story and not just some snippet of a story that's whirling around the inside of my head. It took me many days to write the chapter below due to the nature of Harry's character (who goes by Hadrian in this story) and those he interacts with. I wrote this becaues the chapter itself would not let me doing anything other than write it. And, from my own knowing, I haven't read anything like this before. I'm not sure if I'll continue (this might not be all that popular and I do have other stories on here), but I couldn't ignore this chapter. I couldn't ignore the dream which inspired this chapter. I'm not even sure if this lengthy section is actually good, you know? I only know that I had to write it.

I wanted to share it with all of you because it brought me so much joy to write.

With that said: Read, Enjoy, And Review!

Chapter One

Hadrian's first, clear memory was of the moon, glowing silver and immensely, colossally enchanting.

He couldn't remember anything else, save for a name that was a ghostly whisper drifting on the cold tides of a winter wind: Hadrian White. He wasn't sure if the 'white' part was due to his skin, a ghostly silver like that of pure snow, or his hair, black at the roots that faded to a deep gray and then to silver at the tips. It was a question he sometimes asked himself when he was alone and resting, the world alive yet sleeping.

In the deepest hours of the night, Hadrian traveled. He leapt from tree to tree, his body light as a feather as he soared impossible distances. Verdant irises observed his surroundings, the teen keeping his eye open for any sign of activity. When he spotted a massive dog bounding through the bushes far below, Hadrian landed on an old, sturdy branch. Well over a hundred feet up, Hadrian could only grin as he watched the massive, black hound sniff the ground. When its head snapped up, emerald irises clashing with silver (and the teen noted that, from even this distance, he could see that the canine's sclera was a deep, blood red instead of white).

The hound's long, thick tail snapped through the air. 'Once more, in the dark of the night, I find myself hunted by you, Winter Wight.'

Hadrian jumped out of his tree, plummeting earthbound. As he neared the ground, a strong breeze howled through the trees and wrapped around him. Hadrian landed, light on his feet, before the massive canine that towered over his slighter form. He reached up, pale hand brushing against the side of this canine's snout, as he murmured, "Don't be cruel, Loki. We do this every night."

The hound, Loki, rumbled with laughter before it nudged his cheek with a cold nose. 'If I do not amuse you, Hadrian, then the hapless mortals sleeping under the stars will be confronted with a cold, snowy morning in the middle of summer.'

Hadrian grinned. "Good thing they have you looking after them, no?"

Loki snorted, silver eyes gleaming with amusement. Hadrian turned, his gaze sweeping across the forest around them. "Where are we at, anyway?"

'You weren't paying attention?'

"Do I ever?" Hadrian leveled a look on his canine companion, trying valiantly to not grin. Silver eyes stared him down, devoid of any emotion save for what Hadrian dubbed 'impatience.' He rocked back on his heels, now grinning widely as vines of ice curled and twisted across the ground. "Zephera was in a playful mood, Loki. I couldn't be bothered to pay attention, not when she wanted us here. Why, though? What's so great about this forest compared to the others we've been in?"

Loki didn't grace his questions with an answer. Hadrian sighed. He pushed off the ground, a gentle wind curling around his body as he sat, cross-legged, in the air. He was level with Loki, still, but Hadrian's mind was elsewhere. Even as the hound eyed him, the teen eyed his blackened nails and fingers. His brow furrowed, the silver tips of his hair tickling the sides of his neck.

He wasn't sure where he was, let alone the continent Zephera had dragged them to. Yellowstone Park had been a nice change of scenery, the ground rolling with power. He could feel the heat under his bare feet even now, when he was likely hundreds of miles away from the National Park. Reclining, stretching his back with the wind cushioning his body, Hadrian mused aloud, "I don't think we're in America anymore, Loki."

'We're not,' Hadrian's gaze shifted to the hound as he rolled onto his stomach, arms folded under his chin in a position that betrayed the fact he wasn't on a hard surface. Loki snorted, hot steam billowing out of his nostrils as he continued, 'I ran the length of the ocean, Hadrian. We left the Americas not long after the moon reached its peak.'

If they weren't in North America, and they crossed the ocean, then they were…where exactly?

Hadrian asked that question. Loki closed his eyes. 'I believe we are in Europe or near it, perhaps on one of the small islands bordering it.'

"Like England or Ireland? Or Poland!" Hadrian sat upright, landing on a tree branch within seconds. He was grinning again, verdant eyes impossibly bright as he leaped and jumped through the trees with an echoing, infectious laugh. He twirled in midair, eyes on the hound as he said, "We should get going, Loki!"

'Going where?'

"Anywhere!" Hadrian launched himself out of the tree, easily landing in another on the other side of the clearing. Below, Loki was lopping through the tall grass with the grace of a woodland grazer. The two sped through the forest, streaks of color that danced and wove between the trees. A veil of ice and dark, inky fog followed in their wake, twisting and curling like fine sculptures of died ice. "Maybe we can go to the city? I haven't been to a city in a while."

'For good reason,' Loki leaped over a fallen tree, soundless and as agile as a ghost. Hadrian held his silence, knowing Loki had yet to finish his thought as they leaped over the lip of a cliff to lower ground. After a moment, Loki finally said, 'You tend to get depressed after being amongst humans for extended periods of time. Never do those trips end with a good fortune.'

Hadrian scowled. "Then I won't stay for extended periods of time!"

'They can't see you,' Hadrian came to an abrupt halt on a branch. His fingers bit into the bark as Loki landed, quiet and weightless, beneath his tree. A silver gaze floating in a sea of blood turned to him, the canine below settling on his haunches as Hadrian whispered, "No one can see me, Loki. Only you."

Hadrian was used to it, though. Having spent years being bypassed, of having people walk through him, was enough of a reminder that he was nothing more than a ghost. He tried to tell himself that having only Loki see him wasn't too bad, that he preferred it that way. He couldn't get into trouble with his mischief if no one knew where the culprit was. His chest ached regardless.

He turned his gaze towards the sky as he said, "Zephera, where's my staff?"

The Wind's answer was to have the staff hurtling out of the sky right at him. Hadrian reached up, fingers curling around the blackened, ancient wood with a hum of approval. The Shepard's crook, complete with the diamond blade slicing halfway through the metal crook resonated with latent power. Harry spun it and pressed the blade against the ground, twirling and etching designs into the hard, grassy earth as Loki watched with what Hadrian thought was a bemused stare.

Hadrian hopped back, watching as ice filled the gouges in the earth with leaflike designs. Twisting and spiraling, the cold, silver-blue power spread. The teen twirled, staff resting on his shoulders with both hands hanging on, and set his gaze on Loki as he said, "What? Can't I have a bit of fun?"

'Do not blame me when people start another hunt for ghosts, Hadrian,' Loki flicked his tail, the bushy tendrils passing under Hadrian's nose. The teen sneezed and glowered. He followed the massive canine as the wind picked up, tugging at the loose hoodie Hadrian wore. He let Zephera turn him about, half-aware of Loki as the hound said, 'The scent down in that valley is heavy with sickness. I would not advise going down there.'

Hadrian opted to ignore Loki in favor of letting Zephera lift him off the ground. He spiraled downwards, bypassing the rocky climb for a cleaner approach. He landed on his feet, thanking her in a hushed whisper, as the black hound landed next to him. The teen shot a look at the hound as he shook his massive body, black fur rustling and smoke-like in the gloom that settled in this part of the forest.

As they traveled further, Hadrian picked up a faint scent that had his stomach churning. Loki pressed forward, pushing the smaller of the two behind his massive body as he growled, 'Stay behind me. If there is danger ahead, I will take their souls before they are able to do you any harm.'

Hadrian ran a hand down Loki's flank. "Thanks, Loki."

The wind churned and howled, the leaves scattering and twirling through the air. Yet he noticed Zephera's winds did not go far. Something ahead had her unnerved, Hadrian realized. Easing behind Loki more than he had been before, Hadrian murmured, "There's something ahead, Loki. Zephera is on edge."

Deep, rumbling growls was the only answer he received. He watched as Loki's fur stood on edge, how the tail rose up and straightened. He saw the claws protrude from heavy paws and how the ground split with every step the hound took, the crimson in Loki's eyes glowing in the darkness as the silver and pupil were overrun by the bloody, hellish glow.

Hadrian delicately sniffed the air. Iron coated the winds. "There's blood, Loki…"

'I am aware,' Loki bounded over another fallen tree, this one splintered and broken as if some great force had slammed into it. Hadrian leaped over it, gliding through the air for a moment before landing, soundlessly, on the ground on the other side. 'The air is thick with the scent of illness and death. Stay behind me. Make no sound.'

Hadrian didn't need to be told twice – while he knew he was fast, that he was quick as the wind that adored him, Hadrian knew that what he lacked was physical strength. Battle was not something he would ever step into, not willingly and not without great caution. If there was some form of conflict ahead, he knew his best bet was to let Loki deal with the source while Hadrian, himself, dealt with the inflicted.

It was an unspoken agreement, one that Zephera agreed with.

Hadrian and Loki sped through the forest, the two of them gliding through the air. Zephera guided them, cold winds pulling and pushing them in the direction they needed to go. Hadrian noted the urgency in which she propelled them, felt her panic as if it was his own. Felt her fear, so deep and primal that the heavens seemed to scream and shout as thunder boomed in the distance.

Neither teen or beast doubted that whatever had ensnared the Wind's attention was anything less than dire. They did not speak as they spiraled through the sky. They did not fight nor resist the gales of air that hauled them through the sky. Hadrian bounded and twirled, alighting on branches and pushing off of fallen debris with the ease of a forest-born creature.

He did slow until the woods started to crackle and burn. He landed in a clearing, his eyes wide as Loki circled the area with his nose to the ground. Dead bodies littered the earth, bodies broken and smoldering in the darkness. Hadrian pressed a clothed arm over his nose and mouth, eyes stinging from the heat and from the sudden, unbearable pain cutting through his body.

'There's a trail over here,' Hadrian moved to where Loki stood, his gaze on the darkness of the forest and then on the weak, uneven trail cutting through the grass. He eyed the wolfen hound with a sense of unease before the wind shoved him in the back. Loki bounded forward, tracking the marks on the ground as Hadrian ran behind him. 'There is life in the darkness ahead. Be wary. I smell others in the area, their air thick and polluted with death. Stay close.'

Hadrian stayed as close as possible. His side brushed against Loki's as they made their way deeper into the forest. The camp that they had found, and all the bodies within, was left behind in a rush of wind and magic and branching ice. Hadrian let his hand brush Loki's side as they leaped through a tree cut in two, the inside of the ancient wood brushing his shoulders as he darted through.

Loki galloped ahead, Hadrian on his heel. When he stopped, Hadrian's eyes widened.

It was another clearing, much like the last, only smaller. Hadrian stepped past the hound, unable to believe how the breathing form in the center of the place was alive. As he crept closer, soul heavy with pain, he could not ignore the Wind's insistent push. He stopped only when he had a clear view of the damage.

A woman was lying in a pool of blood, light brown hair spread around her like a halo. The tips were pink and red, the blood soaking into the ends. As Hadrian stepped closer, he noticed she had a small bundle cradled in hers. A bundle that was shuddering, muffled cries warbling through the air. Hadrian's heart hurt at the sight as he paused next to the two, his verdant gaze widening in horror.

The woman shifted, her head turning just so that, when she opened her eyes, she was able to stare up at him. Hadrian watched as she blinked, knowing she was seeing through him. Dark eyes blinked slowly, her lips parting. She let out a bloody exhale before she whispered, "What are you doing here, little boy? This isn't a place for a boy to be."

"Y…you can see me?" Hadrian crouched in front of her, his eyes impossibly wide. Loki paced behind him. It seemed the woman just noticed the massive canine; her eyes were suddenly large and terrified, and, despite her injury, she tried to scoot away while also clutching the small form closer to her body. Hadrian shot a look at Loki before looking back to her, his voice soft and kind as he said, "You don't need to be afraid, miss. What happened to you?"

In the distance, shouting cut the silence. The woman chocked on a sob. "Take him, please take him!"

She had sat up, then. She was pushing the bundle into his arms, her entire body shaking as she whispered in frantic, terrified murmurs, "Take my son. Take him and run, before they get here. Take him!"

Hadrian wrapped his arms around the bundle, eyes widening as the coat slid to the side to reveal a small, thin face staring up at him. The woman cried as she said, "His name's Edward Remus Theodore Lupin, but everyone calls him Ted or Teddy. He's six years old. Please, take care of him. Please!"

'Hadrian, there are men approaching,' Hadrian's gaze snapped to Loki and then to the forest behind him where lights were flaring in alarming numbers. His gaze snapped back to the woman as he said, "I don't understand. What's going on? Who are you?"

"Tonks," The woman said, then. She offered a bloody smile. She reached up and touched the child's face, and then Hadrian's, as she whispered, "My name's Nymphadora Lupin, but everyone knows by Tonks."

'Hadrian!' His gaze shifted to Loki a second time as the woman pushed him back. Hadrian was on his feet, then. The little boy, Teddy, twisted in his arms and reached for the dying woman. Loki snarled and snapped at the air as Zephera's winds picked up. Someone was shouting in the distance, and then there were lights springing up around him. Hadrian whipped around to see a group of men, all wearing black cloaks and their faces obscured by silver masks, coming closer. 'We must go, Hadrian. The woman is as good as dead.'

"Take him and go," Tonks whispered, and Hadrian turned his gaze to her as she said, "Tell him I love him."

As the men came closer, Hadrian closed his eyes. "I will."

He leaped backward as a burst of red light cut through the air. Then he was skybound, his body lifting and whistling through the air. Dozens of shocked cries broke the silence, followed by screams and Loki's mighty roar. Hadrian landed on a branch high above the chaos below, a small boy tucked to his chest as the woman known as Nymphadora Lupin's soul was stolen by Loki's jaws. With another spring of gravity, Hadrian threw himself into Zephera's embrace.

The Wind caught him, hauling him out of the forest and into the sky above.

Below, the forest wept for the innocence that had been stolen so cruelly but callous hands.