Harry Potter #1
A young boy lay down in the small garden of the house that he had taken up residence in for the past fifteen years. The stark contrast between the inky black sky and the thin white flakes, that blanketed the entire yard of freshly mown grass, made the boy seem ethereal while the moonlight cast over his lithe frame. His thick, dark lashes fluttered every now and then as he inhaled the pure air, and his cheeks held a light dusting of pink as the crisp breeze ghosted over them in a refreshing manner. His full, pink lips were set in a pout and his raven black locks shadowed his face in a messy way that made his nose crinkle slightly for a few moments before relaxing once again.
His lips parted for a soft sigh to slip out before he sat up. His aunt and uncle had taken their son out to celebrate his birthday, leaving young Harry James Potter alone and in charge of the house. The silence of the night differed tremendously from his thoughts as he recalled everything that had happened to him over the last half decade. The boy thought about how he was introduced to the wizarding world in a way that gave him no chance to understand it or become familiar with it; how he was suddenly popular beyond belief and expected to do things that he'd never even thought of before; how his life turned upside down in just mere moments and that thinking it might have been for the better was possibly just the first mistake he'd made, with many more to come.
With a small huff Harry stood up, with the grace of a pureblood wizard that would've taken others many months or even years to accomplish, and slowly made his way inside the pathetic excuse of a house his "family" owned. He padded up the wooden stairs quietly and made his way to his "room," where he then proceeded to retrieve several glass vials and a few small objects, including two silver daggers. He snapped his fingers and with a soft pop, Dobby the house elf appeared, holding a large wooden bowl and some Blood Replenishing potions. Without another word, the young wizard returned to his place outside and cleared away the entire garden from snow and grass, leaving just dry dirt behind. He used a space expansion charm and then instantly got down to carving many strange symbols into the ground with one of the daggers.
Throughout this whole ordeal, the boy failed to notice the menacing magical signature of a powerful dark wizard appear nearby him, in the neighbour's backgarden. Many more magical signatures of dark wizards, yet not nearly as powerful as the first, appeared and surrounded the house that the boy was in charge of watching for the night. The powerful dark wizard, infamously known as the Dark Lord or Lord Voldemort, did not make a move. He continued to observe the boy's actions, watching with great interest and astonishment as the boy went about carving runes into the ground in eight different languages - Latin, Egyptian, Tamil, Tigrinya, Greek, Gaelic, Akkadian and Arabic - and then moving on to stripping down entirely and kneeling in the middle of the garden inside a circle that he had carved previously. The Dark Lord's followers all watched in confusion and slight suspicion at the boy, but made no attempt to stop him as their lord made no effort to interrupt the child either.
Tom Marvolo Riddle, now known as Voldemort, watched in fascination as a fifteen-year-old Harry Potter drew runes that he had never seen before - and he was a master in everything related to magic as learning about it was his sole purpose as a student at Hogwarts. He recognised a few of them, but not what they were specifically. He could see runes linked to time, memory, soul, magic, and even some that he thought (for once in his entire existence of living, Tom was unsure about something) could be linked to beginning and first, although he's never heard of those words being used in runes or even in a language other than Latin, Greek or Arabic. The fact that the Dark Lord knew at least twenty languages and was capable of applying them to runes in itself made this even more shocking for him than he originally believed so.
The mass of dark wizards watched as the boy, kneeling and stark naked at the moment, beckoned the house elf towards him. He spoke quietly; none heard him but watched as the elf picked up the second silver dagger of the two and began carving into the teen's body. Dark red drops of blood trickled slowly down Harry Potter's arms and chest, almost as alluring as fine wine. The elf wasn't just carving into the child's body, but was carving specific symbols in specific places. The Dark Lord stole a gaze at the discarded sheet that the boy had held when speaking to the elf, and saw instructions of where to carve certain symbols and how. His eyes returned to the boy's body, seeing the symbol of a crescent being carved into the right side of the boy's chest, and the symbol of an eight-pointed star on his lower abdomen. Three vertical lines were carved into his left forearm, with another six thinly carved on top horizontally. Next, four squares that overlapped at the corners, were carved into his right forearm, and a single circle was drawn into his right upper arm. The elf then went around and began painting on the boy's back. He couldn't tell what the elf was using, but from the smell it could've possibly been creature blood.
All of a sudden, a blinding flash of white appeared. The Death Eaters and their lord instantly encased themselves in a one-sided glass dome and used the 'Nox' spell to block out the light. They watched flabbergasted as a man stepped out of the light.
The man seemed young, probably in his late twenties or early thirties. He had a soft layer of stubble on his chin, piercing grey eyes, curly auburn (more raven that rouge) hair, and had a body packed with lean muscles. Once the light has disappeared, the man blinked and turned to the young Harry Potter who lay at his feet, head bowed and silky strands of hair hiding his Avada Kedavra green eyes.
"Oh..." the man breathed, eyes widening and a small smile appearing on his lips. He knelt down and lifted Harry's chin gently. "My sweet little serpent... No more worrying. You're home."
Watery jade made contact with stone grey.
"Sal... Sal," he choked out. "Salazar, I've missed you!" Harry cried out, biting his lips and flinging his arms around the neck of the man who raised him and taught him to figure out who he really was. One of the only people in the world who treated Harry Potter like a person rather than a tool, scapegoat or threat.
The Death Eaters gaped. Even Riddle, statuesque as he was, found it difficult to keep his jaw from reaching the ground. The reminder that he had to keep up appearances in front of his servants forced him to quickly fix his composure before he made a fool of himself.
Salazar Slytherin. In the flesh.
He still couldn't believe it.
"I wanna go back with you... Please, take me back with you. I don't want to be part of this stupid world, I want to live with you, and the others!" Harry exclaimed. He missed Helga, who he saw as his mother just as much as Salazar was his father. "The old coot thinks he can manipulate me into destroying that monster Riddle, which he created. They're both petty children in my eyes, and the sheep of this world are serving their use by helping to destroy the world. They're all idiots, and I don't want to be in the centre of it when everything goes to hell. Let me stay with you Sal, please," Harry begged, his eyes searching his father's in desperation for the answer he craved.
"Hadrian... My son, you've done well. I know it mustn't have been easy, and I congratulate you in staying strong. Yet you know that not either of us will be able to make our way back with our current power. We must wait until the moon is full once more for the power needed to fuel this miracle of a ritual," Salazar told his son regretfully. His eyes hardened. "However, I truly intend to make them suffer, all those who dared lay a hand on you. I swear on my magic, my child, that I will make sure from this moment on you will be hurt no longer and live your days in peace with happiness and love."
Salazar smiled warmly at Hadrian, who slumped down in disappointment yet relief. He was going to go home. Just not at the moment. It was then that Hadrian Potter decided to abandon all pretences and be who he truly was.
"$o father... Are the Founder$ mi$$ing me?" Hadrian hissed, his eyes shining like emeralds in the darkest mine.
"You can $how the re$t of the wizarding world ju$t how much of a $lytherin you are while we're $tuck here." Salazar chuckled darkly. "Godric will have a field day with thi$... Ye$, $on, how we've all mi$$ed you." At this point, Salazar had picked up Hadrian, wrapped him in his tunic, and began to carry him into the house. And there, to the side, Tom Marvolo Riddle stood frozen and unable to comprehend all that he'd just witnessed and heard.
Weekly Power Status
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Ranking 
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