With a deep, echoing hum of ancient magic, the towering titan form of Hadrian Nicholas Briarwood slowly began to dissolve. The red and black armor shimmered, fading like smoke caught in moonlight. First the shield and sword vanished into runes, then the black and crimson plating gave way to mystic robes, as he stepped down in his Ancient Mystic Mode form — his cloak swirling like flame, dragon motifs coiling around his staff.
Then, as if the world held its breath, he whispered,
"Mystic Mode… return."A shimmer of violet light passed over him, and the mystical form gave way to his true self — Hadrian Nicholas Briarwood.
Forever twenty-eight, with ageless eyes that had watched centuries pass. He stood tall, dignified in robes that subtly shimmered with protective enchantments. A sword with a dragon-carved hilt rested on his belt, and his presence alone exuded quiet power… like a storm held back by sheer will.
From within the castle walls, the house ghosts emerged — drifting forward with reverent silence. At their center floated the Sorting Hat, its folds crinkled into something like a grin. Above them, Fawkes soared, letting out a brilliant, echoing cry before descending and perching on Hadrian's shoulder.
The Grey Lady floated ahead, her expression soft with something like relief.
"Welcome home… Nick," she said gently, her voice like wind through ancient leaves.
Hadrian glanced at her, his expression touched by a brief, nostalgic smile.
"I should not have been called… not after last time," he murmured, eyes briefly clouding with the memory of fire and blood — 500 years ago when the school was nearly lost to politics and war.
The Sorting Hat chuckled from atop the Bloody Baron's hands.
"Oh, don't be so dramatic. You know Hogwarts always finds a way to bring back its guardian when she needs him most."
Hadrian turned to the Bloody Baron, Nearly Headless Nick, and the Fat Friar, nodding at each with familiarity.
"How have you all been faring?" he asked softly, his voice wrapped in warm fondness.
The Bloody Baron gave a respectful nod.
"Still haunting. Still watching," he said simply.
"Dreary as ever," muttered Nearly Headless Nick. "But your entrance? Marvelous."
The Fat Friar beamed, floating slightly higher.
"You always knew how to make an impression!"
Hadrian gave a light chuckle, then turned his head slightly, looking at the phoenix now nestled comfortably on his shoulder.
"And you, Fawkes? How've you been, old friend? Still singing in tune?"He reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a small pouch. "I brought those treats you like — from the Mystic Mother herself."
Fawkes cooed and nuzzled his cheek, a soft golden light shimmering around them for a brief moment.
Before another word could be exchanged, Professor Dumbledore and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall approached cautiously, both with wary eyes — and questions clearly brewing.
Dumbledore was the first to speak. His tone was calm but edged with curiosity.
"Forgive the interruption… I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. And this is Professor Minerva McGonagall. Might we ask… who exactly are you?"
Minerva's eyes remained fixed on Hadrian's now-vanished armor and the memory of the chariot pulled by two massive beasts.
"And those… creatures," she added. "That chariot. They didn't match any magical beast I've studied. What were they?"
Hadrian turned to face them, his expression composed and respectful, though there was an unmistakable glimmer of amusement in his eyes.
"They are my companions. Ancient spirits tied to the balance of magic — their names are Brightstar and Catastros. As for me…"
He inclined his head slightly, placing a hand across his chest.
"I am Lord Hadrian Nicholas Briarwood. Guardian of this castle. Keeper of the old ways. And former mentor to a few of your most exceptional students."
McGonagall's brow furrowed slightly. "Briarwood…" she murmured.
In the background, Professor Flitwick, who had quietly joined the faculty gathering, was fidgeting with his wand and squinting thoughtfully.
"Briarwood… Briarwood…" he whispered under his breath. "Where have I read that name before…?"
But neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall noticed. All attention remained on Hadrian, who stood calmly — surrounded by ghosts, a phoenix, and ancient magic that made the very air hum.
The past had returned to Hogwarts. And the future… had just shifted.