Unexpected Encounter (rewrite)

It had been a few days since Hadrian and Dante had returned from the Demon World, leaving behind the shattered remains of Argosax and the brutal echoes of their victory. Despite their success, a realization had been gnawing at Hadrian. During the final battle, he had relied almost entirely on Dante's strength—his uncle's unyielding mastery of the Devil Trigger was the difference between life and death. Hadrian had come face to face with his limits, which left him vulnerable, reliant, and, ultimately, dissatisfied.

One evening, as the crimson sunset cast long shadows across Devil May Cry, Hadrian approached Dante, who was leaning against his bike, a contemplative look in his eyes. With his usual calm, Hadrian cleared his throat and asked, "Dante, how did you unlock your Devil Trigger?"

Dante tilted his head, a glint of nostalgia in his gaze. "Ah, now that's a story," he said with a wry smile. "It wasn't exactly a pleasant experience. You see, it happened the first time I faced my brother, Vergil. He… well, let's just say he gave me a real run for my money. I lost to him. Badly."

Hadrian raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Vergil? You mean Uncle Vergil beat you?"

Dante chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, he did. And as if that wasn't bad enough, he then impaled me with Rebellion." Dante reached up, tapping the hilt of Rebellion strapped across his back. "Funny thing is, it took my own blood mixing with the blade to awaken my demon power. And that's how I unlocked the Devil Trigger."

Hadrian blinked, staring at Rebellion with a mixture of horror and intrigue. "So… getting stabbed was the key?"

"Pretty much," Dante shrugged, flashing a grin. "Though, I wouldn't recommend it as a strategy."

Hadrian gave a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on the impalement method." But Dante's words planted a seed of determination within him. He couldn't always rely on his physical strength, his blades, or his guns. If he wanted to stand on equal ground, if he wanted to be truly powerful, he needed to unlock something deeper. Something more… controlled.

That night, Hadrian resolved to explore another path. He turned to his Peverell heritage, hoping to find something within the ancient Peverell Grimoire. With his heart pounding, he carefully withdrew the heavy tome from his ring, the silver-inlaid cover shimmering in the candlelight.

As he opened the tome, words in flowing, arcane script greeted him. The first pages were filled with descriptions of powerful spells—spells that made the Unforgivable Curses look like child's play:

Imperium Verus: a mind control spell that binds not just actions, but thoughts and emotions.

Cruciare Anima: a spell of pain that touches the very core of the soul, leaving echoes of agony long after.

Anima Excidium: a terrifying spell that erased not just life, but the very existence of the target's soul.

Hadrian's eyes widened, his heart pounding harder with every line he read. The sheer brutality and depth of these spells felt overwhelming, even disturbing. He slammed the book shut, feeling a chill settle over him. This was not what he was looking for. Not yet. There was a time for dark arts, but he needed something more foundational first, something that could unlock his power without diving into spells that could rend souls or erase minds.

"Yeah… maybe not just yet," he muttered, tucking the tome back into his ring with a sigh.

Instead, a new idea sparked in his mind. Hadrian decided to head to Gringotts and see if there was any magical knowledge stored in the Potter and Black vaults that might help him harness his latent power.

The next morning, Hadrian dragged Sirius out of bed, a mix of excitement and determination written on his face. "Come on, Sirius. We're going to Gringotts."

Sirius groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Again? Didn't we just finish a whole ordeal in the Demon World? You're relentless, kid."

"Well, I'm not planning on getting stabbed by my sword to unlock my Devil Trigger," Hadrian shot back with a smirk. "So I need to find another way to power up."

After a bit of convincing (and a bribe of coffee), Sirius joined him, and the two made their way to Diagon Alley, heading straight for the imposing, white marble structure of Gringotts. Inside, they were ushered to their vaults by a stoic goblin, who seemed unfazed by the two's casual discussions about demon-slaying and ancient magic.

As they made their way through the bustling hall of Gringotts, Hadrian felt something cold and solid brush against his shoulder, jarring him from his thoughts.

"Watch it," he muttered instinctively, before turning to see who he'd bumped into.

The girl standing before him was unlike anyone he'd ever seen. Her hair, as white as freshly fallen snow, cascaded down her back, streaked with subtle hints of icy blue that shimmered under the light. It was tied back in a long, elegant ponytail with a black ribbon, adding an air of refined grace. Her clear blue eyes were intense, swirling with a glacial, almost hypnotic light that seemed to pierce through him with a chilling disdain. Her face was striking, her features sharp and elegant, yet there was something distinctly otherworldly about her—a presence that felt timeless and powerful, as though she carried secrets from another realm within her gaze.

In that instant, Hadrian felt a sudden, uncomfortable burn from his Peverell Ring, a sensation of sharp distaste, as if the ancient relic was recoiling from her presence.

The girl's expression of loathing vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a mask of cool indifference, as though he were nothing more than an inconvenience. Just as he opened his mouth to apologize, she turned sharply on her heel, her robes swishing elegantly as she walked away, leaving him mystified standing in the middle of the bank.

"Who in Merlin's name was that?" he muttered, watching her retreating figure disappear into the crowd.

Sirius, who had witnessed the whole exchange with a broad grin, clapped a hand on Hadrian's shoulder. "Love at first sight, huh? That look she gave you was downright smoldering."

Hadrian shot him an exasperated look. "If by 'smoldering' you mean she looked like she'd hex me on the spot, then sure. She looked at me like I killed her whole family." He glanced down at the ring on his finger, still faintly warm. "And the ring hated her. That's new."

Sirius chuckled. "Ah, so no love lost, then. Shame. Though that did seem… intense."

Hadrian shrugged, shaking off the momentary unease. "Intense is right. She looked like she'd rather duel me than say hello."

With a bemused shake of his head, he turned back to his original purpose, the girl's face still lingering in his mind.

Unbeknownst to him, the girl he had bumped into was walking swiftly away, her heart pounding with a fierce blend of emotions she kept carefully hidden beneath a cool, composed exterior. She clenched her hand tightly around the small, cool weight of a ring on her finger—a ring that carried her family's legacy, the Lady Ring of Le Fay. This ancient heirloom had been bestowed upon her when she first awakened her Fae heritage, marking her as a true descendant of the enigmatic Morgan le Fay. The ring's enchantment stirred in proximity to the boy, sending a searing, unnatural heat through her hand—a visceral reminder of the ancient blood curse that shadowed her family.