I've returned from the past

Chapter 29

//EXTREME GRAPHIC WARNING//

Hadrian stares up into the sky, watching Ekkathion circle to alert him of any potentially approaching enemies. Hidden within the moorland of Scotland, he's ensured the safety of all people within a few miles so that he can unleash all of his magic.

It was time to bring a lifetime nemesis down and maybe, just maybe, by this evening Hadrian can return to his family and sit on the couch with them. Maybe he'll be able to finally relax with them for the first time in centuries.

But he knows, deep in his gut, the magic power it would require to take down Neville, was that of his life. If his life wasn't enough- then what was?

He watches the hills and the scattering of trees and contemplates the chances that Neville was already here.

He feels for his wand and observes the area-

He spots a single figure first on the hill next to the battlefield he had chosen. The few vampires behind him lay crouched on the hill, hiding and observing, waiting for his orders.

Then that single figure splits into five, then twenty-five- until the hill is covered in the dead. Some are only skeletons, some are still whole- some are still alive.

Neville stands at the forefront, watching and observing in mocking auror robes.

"Hodie est dies sumus mori," he mutters aloud. There were too many people for them to survive. He knew that then and he reached for the blood pact that wasn't there. The one he had given the Count to look after- and settles on the ring instead, rubbing the worn band.

The sound of footsteps is a quiet drum as the army approaches and Hadrian waits.

Neville hadn't moved off of the hill, likely waiting for Hadrian to exhaust himself with the armies down below.

A sonorous reaches him and Neville darkly proclaims, "There's no where for you to run now." Hadrian doesn't waste his energy on replying, instead focusing on the charging armies.

He takes a deep breath and Ekkathion says, {We will be okay. We will defeat this army.}

Hadrian would like to believe him, if not for everything telling him he won't win this.

A purple miasma spreads from the skeletons, drifting like smoke above them that created a purple haze that one couldn't see through-

And then they stepped on the traps.

The ground rocked and Hadrian had to steady himself against a tree as the shockwave reached them. Bombs, muggle bombs that he had stolen from the war front. They shook the valley and the bones were snapped as easily as a twigs, rendering them useless. It didn't matter to Neville though, that army just flowed over the hills and Hadrian braces himself against each explosion- the sound of snapping bones and the thudding of already dead bodies.

Hadrian has to wonder how many graves he's pillaged, how many dead aren't able to rest in peace because of this man- how many families looked at the empty, upturned graves of their loved ones-

And the thought makes his magic writhe, it makes him angry.

Those people were supposed to rest, supposed to have sanctuary in the end of their lives and their bodies had been disgraced, their original morals discarded and their humanity destroyed.

Perhaps it is because he is the Master of Death that he's so angry seeing the dead walk again, or perhaps it's because he sees the faces of people like Molly, people like Hermione and Draco and everyone Hadrian has ever loved- step again, and again, their bodies weathering the dark magic that keeps them from eternal rest and Hadrian sees his friends children- just kids that he had failed to protect. Nevan, Scorpius, Teddy and Zayn.