Spider in the Roses

by HauntingOpal

Summary:

When Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass start 4th year, they expect a silly tournament and more study time. Instead they get an abused Harry Potter who isn't a Potter at all, a mother who wants her son back, and a Slytherin Triwizard competitor who owes a debt to Harry Potter. Not to mention a twinkly eyed headmaster whose careful plans are being torn to shreds by very protective Slytherins.

Chapter 1: invictus

Notes:

Due to me disliking how this story has gone, I will be editing. Thank you for the positive response!

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
-’Invictus’ William Ernest Henley

 Check out my other work Reverence !

Part I

Chapter 1 // invictus

 

Pansy Parkinson was a very clever girl, a very observant girl. That said, as she stared into the compartment on the train, even a blind man could see how unwell Harry Potter looked. Unwell enough for her to step into the train compartment and take a seat beside him. She watches out of the window at the Weasley matriarch giving her children loud goodbyes. A shameful display for a pure-blood family, blood-traitors or not. She glances at Potter to see dull green eyes looking back at her. She notices the flicker of a glamour around him and turns her eyes back to the crowds outside. The two dark-haired 4th years sit listening to the sounds of the lively train.

 

 

“Pansy, there you are. You would think on a singular hallway you would be easier to find.” Daphne Greengrass pauses right as she goes to sit down, noticing Potter slouching in the corner. "Why are you sitting with Potter?

 

 

“Better than Malfoy, whom at the moment, won’t stop talking about some silly tournament that Hogwarts is hosting and how his father gave him special inside information.” Pansy rolls her dark eyes and Daphne’s lip curls wickedly.

 

 

“What drivel. Hello Potter.” Daphne casts a look to the boy only to blink at the shy smile she receives in return. “Why aren’t you with Granger and Weasley? Looking for better company?”

 

 

He runs a trembling hand through his greasy lank hair and his mouth twists in what she could only describe as pain. “They’re very loud.” His voice is quiet and hoarse. Pansy goes to pat the hand that rests in his lap, but pauses when he flinches back. He scrunches his eyes closed before releasing a slow breath. 

 

 

“How was your summer, Daphne?” She asks instead, turning away to give him a moment. The train hasn’t even started to move and she can already tell this is going to be a long year. “How is Tracey?”

 

 

“I spent it in France with my mother. Father had business over in the states. Plenty of pretty boys and girls to keep me from being bored.” Daphne crosses her ankles and begins to braid her honey blonde hair. She gets frustrated with it quickly. “Tracey is fine. When I saw her earlier, she was talking to her father about taking her O.W.L.S. early. She stayed with me a week and I toyed with the idea of burning her school books so she’d pay attention to me.”

 

 

When Potter uncrosses his leg and leans toward Daphne, Pansy watches how glamours flicker on his hands and neck. How curious. “Um, if you want I can braid your hair?” Daphne and Pansy both look at him in surprise. He blushes faintly. Daphne notices how shaky his hands are but makes Pansy switch seats with her anyway. She and Pansy keep a steady flow of conversation even as the train begins to move and Tracey Davis finally finds their compartment. Tracey doesn’t ask why Harry Potter is adding blue butterfly clips whose wings flutter into Daphne’s very beautiful braid. She does ask if he’ll braid hers too.  

 

 

---

 

 

 

Potter sits with them in their carriage, pausing to pet the invisible thing pulling the cart. He seems confused when they mention they can’t see what he has his hands on. “It’s like a dark, boney horse with wings, I suppose.” He tells them when they ask for him to describe it. Tracey snorts at his horrible attempt, but nods anyway.

 

 

“It’s called a Thestral. Don’t know why they have a symbol of death pulling the Hogwart’s carriage, but it’s fascinating to know it’s there.” Tracey explained once they begin moving. “Have to have seen someone die to be able to see it.” Her amber eyes bore into the face of the constantly moving boy across from her.  

 

 

Pansy watches as Potter shifts before he shrugs. “I watched my mom die.” ‘as she was killed by Voldemort’ was left hanging unsaid in the air. Daphne hums in response and slowly, as not to startle him, runs her fingers through his hair. She wants to flinch in disgust, but something tells her that his unwashed state is not his fault. 

 

 He lets her pet his hair as long as she wants, and she pulls away only once the carriage has stopped. He gives her a kind smile and she squeezes his hand once gently. Slytherins are well aware that some things are much different behind closed doors and Harry Potter seems to live in a maze of closed doors. She can already tell from the way Pansy watches the boy with a maternal glint in her onyx eyes that Potter was about to become a usual part of their lives. The 9 hour trip with him had warmed him to her so she wasn’t going to complain. Something about that boy made her want to smother him in hugs and make sure he was wearing a scarf and that he ate. He pulled forth very mothering feelings from the three girls in the carriage with them. Plus, her hair looked lovely and she’d have to have him do it again.

  

 Harry Potter’s parting words once they reach the Great Hall echo in Pansy’s head. “For breakfast, I’d avoid the coffee tomorrow.”

  

 

---

  

 

Pansy watches the Headmaster give his usual Welcome Feast speech and drags her eyes across the Great Hall. She notes that the speech was the same as every year and focuses instead on the pretty blonde girl sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Pansy gives a flirty smile which is met with unblinking wide blue eyes. Luna Lovegood, Pansy muses, is a very beautiful girl. She’d heard a rumor of a Yule Ball. Maybe she’d ask Luna to go with her.

 

 

Pansy settled her eyes on the very boy that kept crossing her mind. One such Harry Potter who looked as if he was going to throw up all over the Gryffindor table as Granger spoke rapidly in his face and the lanky Weasley stuffed his gob. Lifeless green eyes lifted up to meet hers and her breath caught in her throat at the flicker in the glamour. Pansy Polaris Parkinson was sure, as much as she didn’t want to be, that Harry Potter was hiding some very dark secrets under that perfect facade.

  

 ---

   

 

Dear Mother,

   

 

I already miss you and I hope you are still well, considering the fact I only left this morning. I'm writing so soon because I have some concerns about a fellow student and I’d greatly appreciate some advice. I know you are active in the ministry, and usually I wouldn’t ask something like this, but I need you to find out anything you can about Harry Potter’s family. I have reason to believe he is being abused. He keeps himself glamoured, but he is very weak as they are flickering and he very much follows the term ’brittle as bird bones’. I don’t know how to broach the topic with him, but I’ll try to earn his trust. We may have a guest at Christmas if all goes well.

 

Yours, 

 

 

Pansy

 

---

 

 

 “Good morning, Parkinson. Davis.” Theodore Nott greets the girls, face blank. Blaise Zabini looks at them and nods his welcome. Pansy nibbles on her toast, watching the doors to the Great Hall from the corner of her eyes. “Who are you waiting for? Greengrass? I thought she left before you all.”

   

 

“I saw her run out of here earlier. She sat down, drank some coffee and then went speeding out.” Adrian Pucey answers from across the table. Pansy raises one brow and gives the coffee a disinterested look, instead drinking pumpkin juice. Breakfast continues calmly and as Snape passes out her timetable, she finds herself breathing easier as Potter smiles at her from across the hall. 

Chapter 2: the boy who dreams

Notes:

‘Sleeping, like dying, delivers you from one world to the next- to rest in crypts and wake in gardens.’ -Amrit Brar

2.10.18 edited

Chapter 2 // the boy who dreams

 

“Regulus is missing.” A female voice mumbles, a note of terror in its depths. "Kreacher is searching everywhere, but nothing yet."

  

“Are you sure, Lil?” Another female asks, voice deeper in tone, her words stilted with her foreign accent.

 

"I'm sure, love. What do we do? The children..."  A choked cry cuts off the words. 

 

 

A flash of red light.

    

 

Harry sits up with a gasp, heart racing and skin covered in sweat. He grabs his leather bound notebook from under his pillow and writes down his dream (or is it? It feels so real). He runs his fingers over the engraving on the back. H. A. P. Dragging a hand over his face, he slows his breathing and ignores the sting of tears in his eyes. Knowing he won’t be able to get back to sleep, Harry rises silently to make his way to the bathroom. The stone floor is cold against his feet, but he ignores it, dragging soft fingertips over rough walls. He keeps his eyes closed, holding on to the image of red hair, walking to the bathroom with memory alone.

 

 

He keeps the lights off and avoids looking at the mirror, knowing he will see unblemished skin. His throat tightens and he let's his tears fall as he stands beneath the steaming water. Mouth firmed, he pretends that the water runs clear, that the darkness around him holds no secrets. It's the only way he knows how to keep himself together. 

 

 

---

  

 

The Great Hall is quiet when Harry takes his seat, with most people still sleeping at 5am. He sips at his juice and nibbles on plain toast, managing a few bites. The churning in his gut grows as time passes, so he scoots away from the middle of the table. The feeling lessens. Professor Sinistra gives him a sleepy but bright smile and he gives a tiny one back. He perks up as he sees Argus Filch walking toward him. “Good morning, Mr. Filch,” Harry greets sleepily. 

 

 

“Hadrian. Mrs. Norris says good morning too.” Filch eyes the boy from the corner of his eyes, the look in his eyes fond. This child had always gone out of his way to be nice to him and even loved Mrs. Norris. Based on her purrs, she was quite taken with him too. “You’re up awfully early, child.” 

 

 

“I had a nightmare, but don’t worry. I wrote it in the book like you told me.” Harry shivers slightly but his smile toward the older man never falters. Filch had often caught him out of bed, but he let Harry join him on his rounds until he was tired enough to go back to sleep. "Do you know a Regulus?" Harry asks, settling his eyes on his plate to avoid the elder's eyes

 

He hears Filch shuffle his feet, but no reply comes. His mouth curls down.

 

 

 

“Excited about the tournament?” Filch finally asks, grabbing a roll from the table.

 

 

“No. Something crazy always happens. I have this feeling that it’s going to end horribly." Filch will deny it to his dying day, but those green eyes glancing up through those lashes could stop his heart. Such a kind boy, with so much darkness in his past. "Do you think I’m being an idiot?”

  

 

“I think you should always trust your gut, Hadrian. Has it ever led you wrong?” Harry doesn’t answer, instead turning his attention to Fred and George Weasley as they snicker to each other. Their eyes stay on the Slytherin table. Harry reaches for a mug of hot chocolate, one of the House Elves always leaves it for him in the mornings. He tells himself to remind Pansy that tomorrow there will be strawberry pancakes. He doesn’t watch as Hermione and Ron take a seat at the center of the table, but his shoulders relax.

 

 

---

  

 

Tracey sighs over her potion notes and doodles on the edges of her parchment. She could hear Malfoy bragging to Potter about the tournament as Ron sneers about ‘Death Eater Slytherins’. She exhales sharply and slumps in her seat. Daphne gives her an exasperated look tinged with annoyance, but Tracey ignores her. Pansy rolls her eyes behind Malfoy's back and Bulstrode chuckles.

 

 A shriek from the other side of the classroom attracts everyone's attention. “You’re being such a know-it-all, ‘Mione. Can’t you shove off about his homework. He said he did it.” Weasley yells with a squinty glare and a horrid flush.

 

 

“20 points from Gryffindor for disrupting my class. Sit down, Weasley.” Snape hisses. Weasley turns redder and shoots a dirty look at Granger. Class ends with another 25 points from Gryffindor for Weasley calling Snape a ‘dirty dungeon bat’ . Tracey rubs her aching neck and smiles when she meets Potter’s eyes. Potter blinks once before a bright smile spreads across his lips. She waves him over, absently noting that Potter is silent when he walks.

 

 

“Wanna walk to the great hall together? Daph is ranting to Pansy about the unfairness of homework on the first day back.” He takes step next to her and they banter lightly back and forth as they head toward the Slytherin table. Chatter seems to come to a halt as the student notice Harry Potter sitting with the Slytherins. “So Potter--” 

 

 

“Harry, please. Or Hadrian. Though only Mr. Filch calls me Hadrian.” Tracey snorts.

 

 

“Mr. Filch?” Daphne asks as she sits down on the other side of Tracey.

 

Pansy takes the seat across from her, next to Harry. “Hadrian?” She piles fruit high on both of their plates.

 

 "Yeah, he’s actually really nice. He said he knew my mom and that my birth name is actually Hadrian and not Harry. Or as he called it, ‘that disgusting abbreviation of a good name’.” Harr--Hadrian laughs lightly and Pansy is frozen in her seat, dark eyes wide as they stare at the table.

 

 

“Good afternoon.” Theodore Nott greets as he slides in near them, Zabini across from him. "Potter," Nott notes with a surprised look. Harry dips his head in greeting and turns back to the girls around him.

 

 

“Hadrian. I think it suits you.” Daphne turns to him with a charming smile on her rose lips. “Do you mind braiding my hair again? I brought pink star clips this time.”

 

 

Chapter 3: a fearful trill

Notes:

warning: physical abuse scars, talk of child abuse

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom
-Maya Angelou

2.10.18 extended and edited

Chapter 3 // a fearful trill

 

Harry clenches his hands as he stares down Hermione. Startled at the anger the boy is showing her, she presses a hand to her wild hair. "All I'm saying is you can't keep slacking off. This is a very important year, Harry."

"You're not listening. I told you I did my work!" Harry hisses, beyond annoyed with the witch.

She raises her nose haughtily, brown eyes narrowed. "I didn't see you do it."

"Because you're always with me? You aren't my mother. I don't need you to control me. I get enough of that with Dumbledore." He replies heatedly, rising from his spot on the couch and storming from the common room. Hermione's cheek flush as the students around her begin whispering and she slams her books shut. 

Dumbledore should know about this.

---

Harry keeps up his fast past all the way to the Quidditch pitch and slumps exhaustively in the Gryffindor stands. He slams his fist into his thighs until he's sure he'll bruise and struggles to pull in air.

 

From his spot on his broom, Theodore Nott can see the boy's shoulders trembling.

 

"Are you alright?" He calls out awkwardly, unsure how to help. Watery green eyes peek up at him, and he's nearly knocked breathless at the vibrant color. Harry raises his lips into a sort of smile and nods weakly. No, I'm not, he longs to scream. 

"Want to come fly? I have another broom." Hadrian can only blink in shock before accepting the offer to fly with the tall boy.

It's the most fun he's ever had.

---

  

Theodore sits in the corner of the library, surrounded by nothing but the faint sounds of quills and pages turning. His chin in balanced in his palm and his eyes roam over the potions book in interest. While spellwork was his best subject, he had an interest in potions. Across from him sits a very grumpy Hadrian, who is most definitely pouting. “But why do I have to cut it into thirds, why not halves? What difference does it make?” The boy mutters.

 

“How fast it dissolves in the potion. That’s the difference.” Theo answers distractedly, flipping a few more pages before settling on a simple hair lengthening potion. “This is the one Parkinson asked for. Here, read this. It's relatively simple.”

 

“How come you call them by their last names?” Green eyes, brighter recently then when they had come to school a few weeks ago, scan the page slowly.

 

“I’m not friends with them. Acquaintances really.” Theo replies and leans back to stretch his shoulders out. He and Hadrian had taken to flying together every few days and he could feel the muscles in his shoulders protesting the hard workout. 

 

“Are we friends?” The green eyed boy asks, raising an eyebrow, playful smile in place. Theo contemplates slamming his face into the stone walls until he kills himself because no one should be that manipulative without even trying. He opens his mouth to reply when a hiss of Hadrian’s name distracts him. Granger, with a red faced Weasley, stomps over, eyes narrowed in anger.

 

“Have you been here the whole time? We’ve been searching for you since dinner let out! You didn’t eat and you didn’t tell us where’d you be!” Granger leans forward in Hadrian’s face, completely missing how uncomfortable it makes him. “What are you even doing with him?”

 

“Theodore’s been helping me with potions. He’s really smart, he actually helped me understand what I’ve been doing wrong!” Hadrian quickly defends.

 

"What could some Snake teach you?" Ron grouches, shooting Theo a dirty look. Hadrian crosses his arms in irritation.

 

“Why should he have to tell you where he goes?” Theo points out as he packs up his books. Hadrian gives him an apologetic smile and passes him back the book he was looking through. “Come Hadrian, let’s go get something to eat.” Theo rests a hand on Hadrian’s lower back, tossing a smug smirk back toward the two Gryffindors when Hadrian follows without a word of complaint. Dobby is ecstatic to see his Master Harry in the kitchens and Hadrian is happy with his hot chocolate.

 

---

 

The common room is quiet when Harry opens the portrait, peeking around to try and sneak into bed. He gets halfway there before he hears Hermione call him. Instead of frowning like he wants to, he just stares at her. “Let me see your essay, I’ll correct it for you,” is the first thing she says to him. He bites his lip and sets his broom down on the floor. He watches her eyes flicker to it briefly.

 

“Why would you need to correct it? Theo already did. He said, and I quote, ‘well, atleast you’re not only pretty’.” Harry blushes faintly, but there is a pleased look in his eyes. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “You know ‘Mione, this summer… You sent me one letter telling me all of the reasons you don’t like or trust Sirius and how you hope I don’t do anything crazy like run away to see him or something. How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“Honestly Harry, he went after Pettigrew, he didn’t seem all that concerned over the hurt baby! I’m only looking out for you. Goodness knows that you can’t do it on your own.” Hermione crosses her arms and gives him a scathing look. Very stupid then.  “Not condemning an innocent man to death isn’t the same thing as encouraging him to be in your life, Harry.”

 

“I’m tired, ‘Mione.” And that, Hadrian thought to himself, was an understatement. “I’m going to bed. We can talk about this later.” She often made him feel horrible about everything in his life, and it wasn’t like he had much to look forward to anyway. As he turns toward the stairs to the dorms, he figures he shouldn’t have argued with the sorting hat. He bets Slytherin would feel much more like a home, ignoring the presence of Malfoy.

 

He wakes up three hours later, voice hoarse from screaming, and doesn’t go back to sleep.

 

---

 

The 1st of October is a rainy day, and the flashes of lightning in the Great Hall during breakfast make Pansy Parkinson’s eyes shine blue. The raven haired girl watches as Hadrian pushes his eggs around on his plate, no food ever reaching his mouth. She’s half tempted to shove it down his throat, especially as she sees how sickly he looks beneath the glamours. The few glimpses she’s caught made her want to cry and curse everyone who ever hurt him. But still she says nothing. Her mother had encouraged her to earn his trust, because once the truth comes out, he’ll need a support system.

 

She watches as a sliver of paper is floated down onto his plate, and after Hadrian reads it quickly, looks up at Dumbledore. Daphne distracts them with her idea of making a perfume with a base of amortentia, where it doesn’t affect the wearer. “It’d be a good idea, something to think about once we are done with school. It would sell well.” Tracey points out while trying to make her waffles form a house. Blaise cuts a window into a piece and Tracey let’s out a triumphant laugh as she gets the door to move.

 

---

 

Hadrian knows the moment he stands up that he is going to pass out. Black spots fill his vision and pressure seems to bare down on his mind. His eyes roll back, his legs buckle. As he falls, he wonders if he’s going to wake up. Part of him hopes he doesn’t. He hears yelling in his mind like a searing fire. He feels arms catch him, and it’s the last thing he feels for awhile. 

 

---

 

Madame Pomphrey is surprised when out of her floo steps Yvonne Parkinson, followed shortly by Narcissa Malfoy and a blonde auror. “Oh hello, what can I help you with?”

 

“We are here for Harry, thank you. We have reason to believe he is receiving insufficient care here.” Yvonne greets with a shark-like smile, voice sharp and cold. Her dark eyes cut across Pomphrey with disdain and she doesn’t hesitate to make her way toward the hospital bed containing the boy her daughter has been concerned with.

 

“Mother, thank goodness! Hello, Aunt Cissa, Auror Malfoy.” Pansy greets, leading them to Harry. Yvonne is surprised to see Filch standing near the bed, but something flutters in her brain, a memory she can’t quite grasp… She ignores it for now. Narcissa let’s out a gasp as she sees the corpse-like boy on the bed.

 

“The twins wouldn’t let Pomphrey near Hadrian, which I thought was weird, until they pointed out any Medi-Witch of her caliber should have noticed all of the signs, and nothing short of a memory charm should have kept her quiet.” Daphne explains at Yvonne’s questioning look toward his unchecked body. Yvonne makes a note to herself not to underestimate those two boys.

“He is wearing multiple layers of glamors and definitely suffering from malnutrition and sleep deprivation, and that’s without spells checking him. I am disgusted at the lack of care displayed by any adults in this school.” Narcissa vanishes his outermost clothes and casts a strong finite incantatem. Pansy lets out a distressed cry at the body of her newest friend. No one was prepared for this level of damage. The growl Theo let out was better suited for a wild animal and he digs his nails into his palms. Auror Julius Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, immediately knows this is going to be a gruesome case.

 

A soft slurred voice interrupts Pansy’s mini-breakdown, “Pans, ‘appened?” Unfocused green eyes open as Pansy brushes her hand against his cold cheek.

 

“You passed out, Hadrian. We took you to Madame Pomfrey.” Daphne tells him, holding one scarred hand in hers, tears spilling from her pale eyes. She doesn’t hide how her hand trembles in his, but keeps a tight hold, unashamed.

 

Hadrian struggles to sit up, shaking all over, but knowing they have to know. “Dumbledore. She-Pomphrey… He took her memories away. She knew and went to him and he took them all!” His voice is weak and he looks frustrated and confused, but Tracey understands.

 

“Dumbledore took Madame Pomphrey’s memories of the abuse.” Her statement gets a fast nod from Hadrian, who has to press a hand to his temple as dizziness nearly causes him to throw up.

 

“Says it’s for the ‘greater good’ and that I’ll understand when I’m older. I begged him not-not too make me go back!” The tightness in his chest worsens and he struggles to breath. He grasps Daphne’s hand tighter and tries to talk through the loud, body-wracking sobs. “Please, I promise I’ll do an-anything if you don’t-don’t make me go back!”

 

“Oh darling, everything is going to be okay now, I promise,” Yvonne reaches a hand out for him, pausing at his flinch. “My name is Yvonne… God, how do I do this?”

 

Narcissa steps forward, knowing everyone around Hadrian will need a moment, “Hadrian, are you well enough to talk to me?” He settles his teary-eyes on her and she smiles gently. Filch has sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, bright green eyes flickering between Yvonne and Hadrian, sadness in their depths. Hadrian nods and Narcissa slips off her over-robe and charms are hair back into a bun.

 

“Is it okay if I get Mr. Nott to help me lift you up? I need to get to see your body, precious.” Her bottom lip wants to tremble, but she firms it and watches the strong boy in front of her slowly stand up with his arm braced in Nott’s. She asks him to tell about each scar as she heals.

 

After sending a patronus to Severus, the first thing she works on is closing the cuts along his back. Nearly surgical in precision, they start at the base of his neck and end at the base of his spine, spanning the entirety of his back, layer upon layer of thin white lines.

 

His hands have burns along the palms, pink and shiny. He has belt lash scars across his thighs and under his boxers. The tops of his hands have long white scars from what look like a switch. There is a yellow fading bruises across his abdomen, which after a month of school, sicken Narcissa at how vivid they still are. The left side of chest looks misshapen, and she hates how she’s going to have to rebreak the ribs to heal them.

 

Daphne leaves the room to throw up.

 

Pansy can’t stop crying.

 

Theo closes his eyes and he swears he won’t let anyone hurt this boy again.

 

Tracey is carefully plotting revenge.

 

The twins hate themselves for not doing anything sooner and vow to protect him, the only person who can truly tell them apart. Their honorary and favorite little brother.

 

When Daphne steps back in, Narcissa is talking to a pale-faced Snape, who can’t quite look at Hadrian. She watches as they walk over the small boy, who nods and says something and they raise their wands toward him. Narcissa pauses with a small sigh of irritation, steps over to the floo, has a hurried conversation and Lucius Malfoy steps through. Three wands are trained on Hadrian now. Hadrian's skin seems to shimmer. 

Chapter 4: brave and broken

Chapter 4// brave and broken

“ Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son. Flesh of the servant, willingly given, you will revive your master. Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe. ” Hadrian watches as Pettigrew cuts off his own hand, a dull splash as it lands in the cauldron.  He turns, knife in hand. Hadrian knows what’s going to happen. He has to change the outcome. Offer up his blood willingly ? Overturn the cauldron? Trapped in ropes. How? How? A deep cut to his arm, the length of the dark mark. Not enough blood. 

 

A monster is created in the wake of his error. 

 

-Dream Journal Entry #57

 

---

 

He stares at the foreign face in the mirror. Merlin, Hadrian feels like he’s dreaming. Everything he’s been told is a lie. He has a mother and a sister, both alive. He squints, delighting in his clear vision, though his nose feels bare. The glamours made him have the same weak vision of James Potter, who he isn’t related to at all. His skin is alabaster, pale and cool to the touch. A sharp jaw and pointed chin, same shiny black hair that rests gently down to his chin the front, short in the back. He’ll have to thank Narcissa for cutting it. His lips are plump and pink, his nose is dainty and small, fine arched brows, high cheekbones. But it's the same vivid eyes he'd always known.

 

Hadrian blinks. So does his reflection.

 

He turns as he notices the tall boy leaning in the doorway. Theodore steps forward into the bathroom and gives him a searching look. “Well, aren’t you just lovely?” He teases and tugs gently on a piece of dark hair.

 

Hadrian arches a brow, a look he stole from Pansy, “Was I not before?” He juts out his lower lip, flushing when Theo drags his thumb across it.

 

“ I think it would be impossible, the chance of you not being beautiful.” Theo whispers with a crooked grin. “But how do you feel about your new face?”

 

“It’s weird, but it feels right, I guess. I keep trying to push up my glasses. How’s everyone out there?” Hadrian catches the hand that drops from his face and squeezes it gently . Theo squeezes back.

 

“Pansy is throwing anything she can get her hands on and promising murder to whoever took you from them. Your mother is doing the same and trying not to come here after you. I volunteered instead.” Theo laces their fingers and brushes his knuckles over a pale cheek. “How are you?”

 

“ I think I’m in shock. I was most surprised about Mr. Filch. Or that Lily and Regulus Black are also my parents. And I’m a pureblood. Frankly , my life is weird, but I’m happy. I’d change nothing if it means I get to be with all of you guys.” Hadrian shrugs shyly and begins tugging Theo from the room. Things have settled by the time they retake their seat on the hospital bed.

 

---

 

1 hour earlier

 

“These cuts on your back are layered , can you tell me about them, love?” Narcissa asks as she holds one limp hand in hers. Hadrian nods and leans his slight weight against Pansy and Theo, who have taken a seat on either side of him. Daphne is sprawled on the floor and holding his other hand, head resting on Pansy’s thigh. Tracey is in the chair nearby, arms crossed and fury etched like stone on her face. The twins are at the foot of the bed, just staring at him, guilt in their eyes.

 

"How much do you want to know?" He asks nervously , a sick feeling in his stomach. 

 

"Oh love," Narcissa cups his cheek with a motherly frown. Her delicate hand runs through his hair. "Everything you can tell me." 

 

“I can't remember them not hurting me. Petunia is scared of magic and she must have told Vernon the most absurd stories to make him so terrified about the freaks ." He spits the word like a curse, eyes wet and furious. Narcissa lets out a wounded sound.

 

"The cuts. when I was about 4 and I was making breakfast, she slapped me and her nail cut my cheek. She liked the blood I guess, because she tried to do it again next time when she hit me, but she couldn’t get her nail to slice just right . Later she was cutting vegetables for her lunch one day and I dropped a plate and she jerked her arm to hit me, forgetting about the knife, and cut my shoulder . So anytime she wanted, she would sit at the kitchen table with a blade and a paper towel and make me stand there and make me give a reason I deserved each cut .” Hadrian takes a choked breath. “I’d be sent to the cupboard afterword so she wouldn’t have to look at me.”

 

“Cupboard?” Theo’s voice is dark.

 

“Under the stairs. It was my room until I started Hogwarts. They put me back there the last two summers since no one came to check on me. My Hogwart’s letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs.” Hadrian relaxes into Theo’s arm as it’s wrapped around his waist. “I got punished for doing accidental magic, so I tried my best to suppress and control it, but I’ve always had problems. I found books in the library about occlumency and visualizing your core, but mine is chained , which said it means it’s blocked .”

 

“You could have become an obscurial, Hadrian!” Tracey shouts, at the same time Yvonne hisses, “Blocked?”

 

“What’s an obscurial?” Hadrian gives her a confused frown. “Yeah, thick silvery chains. I thought maybe that’s why my seer abilities were so iffy, but there aren’t many good books on seers in the library.”

 

“An Obscurial is repressed magic, Hadrian. When a magical child is abused , whether physical or psychological, and they try to suppress their magic, it becomes it’s own force . They never survive past 10, usually. Though there was Credence Barebone, but he was a special case all around. Your magic would overtake your body and you would destroy anything in your path, love.” Yvonne explains, the skin of her knuckles drawn taut across the bones as she grasps the end of the bed frame. “Seer abilities? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Potter’s having seer abilities…”

 

Narcissa gives a speculative hum and looks at Hadrian in comtemplation. “I have something I’d like to try. May I do a blood test?”

 

“For what?”

 

“When I cast a revealing spell earlier, you were found to be wearing a few glamours, and I cast finite, of course. However , there are special glamours, dark magic, that need have specifics to be taken down. I would like to make sure you aren’t wearing one or if you are, I’d like to remove it.”

 

“Please. I’d like to know.”

 

---

 

Name: Hadrian Alnilam Parkinson

 

Currently Living Relations:

 

Father: Regulus Arcturus Black

 

Bearer: Lily Rose Evans

 

Mother: Yvonne Amoura Parkinson

 

Sibling(s): Pansy Polaris Parkinson

 

Great-Grandfather (through Bearer): Argus Leonis Filch

 

Aunt (Through Bearer): Petunia Julia Evans

 

Uncle (Through Father): Sirius Orion Black

 

Cousin(s): Dudley Khyle Dursley

 

Daphne Verella Greengrass (through Great-Grandmother)

 

Astoria Miren Greengrass (through Great-Grandmother)

 

Crucis Belladonna Black (through Father)

 

Deceased Relations:

 

Great-Grandmother (through Bearer) Amanda Nora Greengrass

 

Grandparents: Walburga Black

 

Orion Black

 

Rose Filch-Evans

 

Francis Evans

 

Beatris Crabbe

 

Nile Parkinson

 

---

 

“Hadrian, my baby boy…” Yvonne’s lashes flutter as she gasps for air. Someone had made her forget her son, her precious son that Regulus and Lily had given her, her darling twins.

 

Daphne gasps and hugs Hadrian close, “Cousins! How amazing! I can’t wait to tell Mother!”

 

Pansy sits staring at the parchment, before slowly raising her eyes to her twin brother. He is glancing back between her, their mother, and Filch. She doesn’t know what reaction she expected, but it wasn’t for him to burst into loud, messy tears. Yvonne gathers him into her lap and rocks him back and forth, Pansy curled into their sides, listening to her younger twin’s cries of ‘I never have to go back’ . Everyone, minus Filch who has his hand on Hadrian’s back, backs up to give them a moment.

 

---

 

Narcissa lets out a heavy sigh, “I have no idea what to do. To know that my godson has been through hell.”

 

Auror Malfoy runs a hand through his hair. “This is huge. Line theft, kidnapping, child abuse. I’m going to need a few others on this case, Cissa. I’ll be back in a few hours when I have people I trust. Give the kid my condolences or whatever. Fuck .”

 

---

 

“Severus, I need your help. I need blood replenishing potions, scar paste, skele-gro, malnutrition potion… which most likely won’t help . Hadrian is most likely going to stay his current size. 14 years of damage this severe will be near impossible to fix. What else? Oh, I need your help for casting the counter to the Hidden Secret glamour. It’s strong enough to cover the dark mark so I believe that’s the one most likely chosen to hide his parentage.” Narcissa instructs quickly , thoughts scattered all over the place.

 

George sits between Daphne and Tracey on the floor as they talk amongst themselves. Fred is telling Hadrian all about his latest invention, and all about his and George’s joke shop plans. Theo runs his fingers through the messy hair of the boy leaning against him, ignoring the scar paste rubbing off onto his sleeve . Pansy stands holding her mother’s hand as they talk to Pomphrey about the obliviates cast on her.

 

---

 

Ronald Weasley knew that Slytherin’s were dark wizards. Nothing good came out of the house of the slimy snakes. Dumbledore had assured him that Harry was a light wizard, even though he kept hanging around those gits, but Ron wasn’t sold . He knew he was right, because how could he not be . Hermione had tried to tell him that Harry would be back with them once he realized that Ron and she were his real friends, though he wasn’t sure about that .

 

Ron pointed out how Harry was a parselmouth and often spent time in the Forbidden Forest talking to runespoors . How when the hat sat on Harry’s head, it didn’t scream out Gryffindor immediately, and Ron didn’t think Harry was smart enough for Ravenclaw or loyal enough for Hufflepuff, especially with how now he never spent time with them anymore, his real friends . How Dumbledore told him only Harry would be able to defeat You-Know-Who when he came back, which brought up the fact that Harry was stronger than the Dark Lord, and Ron figured Harry would want to get rid of competition if he was dark .

 

Sitting in the common room playing chess with Seamus, Ron has a perfect view of the door as he waits for Harry to come back from the hospital wing after his spectacular fainting spell in the Great Hall that morning . Instead, now that dinner is now over, only Fred and George come back with frowns and furrowed brows, whispering with each other . “Checkmate.” He tells Seamus.

 

Harry isn’t back by curfew.

 

Ron carves the word ‘freak’ into Harry’s headboard.

 

Notes:

BUM BUM BUMMMMM

I hate Dumbledore, but I also hate Ron. I like Hermione in certain fics, but I don't overly like her either. Although I think she should have stayed with Krum.

“Only the brave and the broken are kind in this world.” -Nikita Gill

Chapter 5: land of revenge

Notes:

“None who go into the land of revenge and reason emerge with shoulders free of sin.” -L.L. Tyrrell

Chapter 5 // land of revenge

Yvonne Parkinson was an intimidating woman, or so she’d been told. She stood at 5 foot 8, when she wasn’t wearing heels, and was slim built. She kept her midnight hair short, barely half an inch to accentuate her strong facial features. Her mother had been Korean, a branch of the Crabbe family had relocated there a few generations ago and the features had taken over their European genes. Her father had been a pureblood from the Parkinson family. It was an arranged marriage meant to produce an heir. She had been raised in Korea until age 9, when she began receiving tutoring in the Parkinson Manor before she entered Hogwarts.

Her children, both Hadrian and Pansy, took after Lily and Regulus physically, but she could see herself in the small details. Their eyebrows, the way Hadrian picked the skin off his lip, Pansy’s straight shouldered stance of confidence, her temper, his stubbornness. These were her children, and she would not stand for a threat against them. 

Which is why she was currently striding across the halls of the Ministry of Magic. She’d be going straight to the Minister and light the flames of Hell under his heels. No one hurt her family without something near Holy and Divine retribution.

The young assistant looks up at the loud clicks of heels on linoleum and locks her fingers together as she catches sight of Yvonne’s chilling smile. “I’ll be seeing the Minister now.” Yvonne doesn’t ask. 

“Do you hav--”

“I don’t need an appointment. I have information the Minister will find important. Excuse me.” And with one last sharp, toothy smile, she enters the office of Cornelius Fudge.

---

Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk with a thoughtful frown, aged hands tangled together under his chin. Something, he thought, was wrong. Harry Potter was supposed to have been in his office after dinner, but he hadn’t shown. He had heard about his fainting spell, but Madame Pomfrey had assured the headmaster it was only because the boy hadn’t been properly eating, and that he had promised too. No one had seen him since breakfast however, though his little group of Slytherin’s had appeared at lunch. Albus was worried that despite all of his hard work, Harry would be another Tom. In trying to avoid this outcome, he may have caused it.

His compulsion charms on Harry had faded over the summer, and he had invited Harry today to ‘catch up’ while subtly recasting them. He could not allow them to fail. Too much had been put in place for him to give up now. No, he would have to add even more strength into the compulsions this time and have Weasley and Granger keep a tighter leash on the boy. He couldn’t afford to fail.

---

Cornelius Fudge believed in the power of blood and the strength of the pure, so when Lady Parkinson came to his office, she knew exactly which cards to play. “Minister, so glad you could make time to see me.” Yvonne’s smile is sweet, but there is danger beneath. Cornelius swallows nervously as he eyes the Lady.

“Lady Parkinson, how lovely to see you. What brings you to my office today?” He tugs at his collar. His eyes widen as his office door opens again and in walks Lord and Lady Malfoy with a considerably healthier Sirius Black, looking much more sane than a man recently from Azkaban would be expected too.

“Good day, Minister.” Lucius greets cooly, impassive mask in place. Narcissa gives an empty smile and says nothing.

“What a group, what can I do for you all?” He eyes Sirius like a rabid animal. Sirius fights back a smirk.

“We have some information we thought you might find fascinating, Minister. Might we sit?” Yvonne waves a red-nailed hand toward the high back chairs.

“Of course, of course.” He waits until they’ve settled. Once he has four pair of eyes on him, he asks, “What information?”

“We have proof that the Boy-Who-Lived is no such thing, Minister. That an innocent pure-blooded child was stolen away from his parents, given to muggles, who then abused him viciously.” Lucius raises his pale brows, as if shocked, and removes a file from his robe pocket. “That Harry James Potter never existed.”

“Who is he really, Lucius?” The Minister asks, eyes lit up with delight. News article titles pass quickly through his brain. How can he make the public love him?

‘Minister saves Boy-Who-Was-Abused’ or ‘ Harry Potter: The Minister is my Hero'.

“Read this. I think you’ll find it enlightening. Full medical history and 4 generations of Blood Relations.” Lucius passes over the thick file.

Cornelius scans the file with watery blue eyes, which widen as they read the name, and squint through the abuse. “He is your son, Lady Parkinson?”

“And heir to the Black family as his father was the next Lord Black.” Yvonne dangles a thread, like a spider in a web.

“Well, this simply can’t stand. We must do everything we can to make sure your son is taken care of, Lady.” said the fly.

“I’m so thankful,” said the spider, dark eyes gleaming. “I have a few ideas already, Minister, if you’d like to hear.” Yvonne gives a charming smile.

---

Sirius Black’s memory wasn’t what it used to be after 12 years in prison, but if the dementors are good for one thing, it’s unlocking memory charms. So when he woke up one morning, lying in his old bed, he wasn’t exactly surprised to remember Harry was really Hadrian. Though, it wasn’t a memory he expected either. While it pained him to think ill of James Potter, he and James had been cruel in school. Something Azkaban made him think long and hard about. James hated Severus because Lily loved him. Sirius hated Severus because not only did James, but Severus was everything his mother would have wanted in a first born, except -perhaps beautiful, but even that was an opinion. Crows were more beautiful than peacocks if you asked the right person.

Meeting Hadrian had been interesting. He was nothing like James, as much as his addled brain had thought so at the time. James was loud and quick to laugh at the expense of others. Hadrian was quiet and stuck up for the underdogs, much like Lily. James enjoyed pranks and using his name to get away with everything. Hadrian snuck books into his bed to read so the other boys wouldn’t call him a swot, so much like Regulus the kiss-up. James was spoiled. Hadrian was abused.

Sirius, after spending days thinking about his life, concluded that he was much prouder of knowing Hadrian than he ever was of James.

---

The front parlor of Malfoy manor was decorated in shades of silver and pale blue, with lovely pink flowers in crystal vases on every table. Narcissa felt that flowers were good for the soul and was the only person allowed to tend to the garden. Yvonne and Lucius were sitting sipping Scotch while Narcissa was ordering presents for Yule. While Christmas was a muggle holiday, she had always enjoyed giving gifts to those she loved. They look up as an owl taps on the window, snow white feathers gleaming.

“Those must be letters from Hadrian and Pansy.” Lucius fetches the letters and gives a treat to the lovely pet. Yvonne smiles widely at the swooping curls that make up her son’s handwriting. Pansy had been teaching him to use quills since school had started. “I can’t believe I have my children together again. Now I just need to find both of my Bonded and my family will be complete. I was talking to Sirius about doing a blood ritual to find his brother and he seems agreeable. Azkaban mellowed out his… love of the light. They were the ones to lock him up without trial in the first place.”

“Yes, my cousin certainly has calmed some. How are my godchildren?” Narcissa asks gently, marking her page and focusing pale eyes on her friend.

---

Dear Mother (I can’t believe I get to write that now),

Hi. I don’t actually know what to write because I’ve never had anyone to send letters too, but I’ll do my best. The Gryffindor’s have been annoying and the ‘Harry Potter’ glamour is tiring to keep on and actually feels wrong now that I’ve seen my real face, but what can you do? I get to take off the glamour in the Slytherin common room, and they’ve all been really nice to me. Well, there was a six year who was being rude but Theodore used some spell that made blood pour from his nose before he passed out, so I don’t think I’ll have any problems in that area. Pansy said to mention that she thinks I should get a pet snake so I not only have protection, but someone to talk too. I told her I’d ask you.

I had a vision last night. It involved Father, but I couldn’t really understand it. I’ll try to focus better on it tonight.

Oh, before I forget, you were right about Malfoy backing off now that I’m not Potter. It’s great. He might be a git, but I am kind of fond of him. He suggested we go to Gringotts to get the blocks removed. Maybe I’ll be able to see more in my visions once the block is gone. I hope so. I’ll try to give you back Mum and Father if it’s the last thing I do, I promise.

Your son,

H. A. Parkinson

---

Dear Mother,

My brother is being an imbecile (never thought I’d get to say that). He believes it is his fault that you lost Mum and Father and is all torn up about it. Stupid guilt complex and stupid muggles for making him think he isn’t worth anything. I’ll avada them if I ever catch sight of them. On a lighter note, I think Nott is going to try to formally court Hadrian, if he can keep his hands to himself long enough . He is all moon-eyed over him and it’s the most entertainment available in Hogwarts this year. Weird ole’ Theodore Nott who spends his days in the library and ignoring all living now fancies a snog with my twin. Think of the blackmail material, Mother.

It’s strange seeing my face on a boy. It is even worse because he’s got better eyelashes than me. However as much as I am unused to it, I am learning to love it. I couldn't have been luckier with finding such an amazing twin. Although, he is quite silly. Hadrian has found he has a love of rose scented lotion and now glides around school smelling like Aunt Cissa’s garden. Daphne plans to by him sets of perfumes for Yule. I'm going to knit him a sweater (and should he get a snake, I'll make them matching sweaters). 

Dumbledore has been paying special attention to Hadrian, and I think he is going to do something. I just have this uncomfortable feeling around him. He’s very intense when it comes to Hadrian… I don’t really know how to put this Mother, but I think we should be worried about the Headmaster. Isn’t he the ones who helped the Potter’s go into hiding and placed ‘Harry’ with his muggle garbage? Perhaps I’m just being silly, but one can never be to safe after what we’ve been through I think.

Until next time,

P. P. Parkinson (Hadrian likes writing his name like this and encouraged me to end the letter like this, what a dork)

---

“They certainly act like siblings,” Lucius laughs, snorting a sip of his Scotch and coughing at the burn. Narcissa pats his back while laughing herself. So much for pureblood manners and decorum. 

“Pansy seems much happier now. You were worried she was depressed for awhile, yes?” Yvonne nods at Narcissa and clutches the letters close, tears glimmering. She had her children together again and she would let nothing take that from her. “I am concerned over Pansy’s points about the Headmaster. We know he isn’t as good as he seems, but to meddle this far?”

“When Tom was still himself, he spoke about how Dumbledore was apart his reasons for falling so far into the dark. He was 11 when he first met Albus and it was instant dislike once he found out about Tom speaking to snakes. Such a skill should be praised, not distrusted. He has always favored his Gryffindors and there is the strong block to think of. A silver chain on a magical core requires a great deal of magic and when I read up on them last night, there was only a few spells that even turn silver.” Lucius says as he gives a worried frown. “Draco is right about the Goblins, I can’t believe I didn’t think about them. They are excellent at removing wizard blocks since their magic is different than ours. Honestly, light wizards claim to be so good and yet mistreat anything other than another perfect light wizard.”

Narcissa nods agreeably and rests her hand over Yvonne’s. “We will figure this out, darling. I have absolute faith.”

“On the topic of light and dark, the Dark Mark has been darkening. I am unsure how, but I think our Lord will be returning soon. I am concerned with which Lord we will be receiving. The Dark Lord, a man for change, or Lord Voldemort, a man with no sanity left and torture is the daily.” Lucius rubs his left arm and sighs heavily.

“Actually, Hadrian allowed me to take his dream journal and one of the latest entries in about a ritual taking place and Pettigrew bringing our Lord back. However the ritual seems to go wrong because Pettigrew messes up and doesn’t use enough blood. I didn’t recognize the ritual and will assume it is one that our Lord has created.” Yvonne explains, showing them the entry. "It seems like a fairly simple ritual to bring back a body, but our Lord was a magical prodigy."

“Interesting that your son thinks about offering his blood willingly. If it is lack of blood that ruins it, why would he offer more after hearing for years that our Lord is evil?” Lucius pushes his long pale hair over his shoulder and rolls his Scotch around in circles.

“I think our dear Hadrian will constantly surprize us.” Narcissa laughs.

Notes:

Don't forget to comment! I love reading them! xx

Chapter 6: four flames of red

Notes:

2.23.18 edited

Chapter 6 // four flames of red

The castle is quiet as Hadrian makes his way back to the common room from the infirmary. His entire world has shifted view, he is no longer who he was, and yet the world looks the same. It's disquieting. 

"Thinking deep thoughts?" George asks him, throwing an arm over his shoulders. 

"I'm happy, ignoring the whole 'you were kidnapped and taken from your mother's memory and must now find out the truth' situation."

Fred laughs lightly, "It's the little things, isn't it?"

 

---

“He wrote the word freak?” Daphne hisses and sets her blue eyes on the red-head across the corridor. Pansy takes a careful breath, trying to control her fiery temper. How fucking dare that poorly raised blood-traitor insult someone of her brother’s station! Tracey twirls her wand and meets Weasley’s eyes with a well-practiced smile that could scare the bravest of men. They watch as Hadrian says something to Weasley who turns red and raises his wand toward the much-smaller boy.

A large hand snatches the wand from the air and clutches it tauntingly. “If you don’t want me to snap your wand like a twig, Weasel, I suggest you back away now.” Malfoy sneers. Ron straightens up farther, puffing his chest out, looking like an idiot.

“Whatever, Death Eater. Give it back.”

“I’d watch your back, Blood-traitor. You’ve just pissed off quite a few people.” Malfoy taunts and Ron then seems to notice that there are 6 other wands trained on him, including Professor Snapes. He growls, snatches his wand back, and storms into the potions classroom. Granger moves to step in front of Hadrian, but Tracey pushes past with a hiss of,’Mudblood’. Tracey may be a half-blood but she had no respect for people who came into the wizarding world with no respect for the beliefs of the old families. Hadrian sits with the Slytherin’s from then on in class, ignoring the furious looks from Ron and Hermione.

---

Now that he knows about the compulsions, the days become a dance of avoiding the headmaster and pretending that Hadrian doesn’t know Moody isn’t who he says he is. He doesn’t get to write his mother again as Dobby told him that the Headmaster had started checking his mail and had forbidden Dobby from passing letters of the threat of removal from Hogwarts. He does get a carefully coded note from Sirius letting him know everything is fine. Hadrian worries anyway.

The night that Durmstrang and Beauxbatons arrives is a stressful night. Hadrian watches the girls and boys of Durmstrang breath fire and the lovely blue butterflies of Beauxbatons as the stunning students dance by is entrancing, but he is sitting between Weasley and Granger, which isn’t so nice. He moves toward the Slytherin table once everyone is sitting, pretending hundreds of eyes aren’t following his every move. Krum is sitting with Draco (who is preening like the peacocks his father so loves) and Hadrian takes his seat between Pansy and Theo, across from his blonde haired cousin. “Hadrian, so glad you could join us.”

“Any longer at the Gryffindor table and I might have avada-ed myself. Ron kept a grip on my arm so hard I’m sure I have bruises.” Hadrian says with a wince and Theo shoots a deadly look back toward the aforementioned redhead, while trying to check on the frail skin of his friend.

“So you said you are putting your name in, Krum?” Daphne asks with a flirty smile, pale eyes sparkling. Tracey's eyes darken and she stabs her food with extra focus.

“Da, I vill be representing my school, though others may also put in their names.” Krum gruffly explains and Hadrian thinks Krum could be Snape's long lost son with the lanky black hair and hooked nose that both share. If only Krum wasn't tanned from Quidditch.

“Are there any Slytherins putting their name in?” Hadrian asks with a glance around. Dark brown eyes on a freckled face meet his. Hadrian smiles shyly at the 7th year.

The golden-skinned boy nods, “I was thinking about it. Cassius Warrington, nice to meet you, kid.” Hadrian shakes the offered hand without flinching, at ease with the calm teen.

“You definitely should. A Slytherin winner is just what this school needs to get over it’s stupid prejudice. I hope you win.” Cassius looks at him with shock awhile before snickering.

“God kid, you’re something else. Thanks though, I’ll try not to let you down too bad.”

---

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for… The Champion Selection!” With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore dims the flames of the lights and gives a mysterious smile. His eyes flitter over the students of the three school who sit impatiently waiting, seeming to hold their breath in anticipation.

A hush falls. The flames let out a stutter and the first name flies from the cup. “The Durmstrang champion is Victor Krum!” And both Hogwarts students and Durmstrang cheers loudly for the Bulgarian seeker. A few calls from Beauxbaton join in quickly. Krum steps forward and offers a low bow to Dumbledore and a smug smirk to the rest of the students.

“Really hate him,” Theo whispers lowly into Hadrian’s ear, eyes on the dark haired brute. Hadrian rolls his eyes and pokes Theo in the nose, a fond smile curling on his lips. 

“You, dear Theodore, don’t like anyone.”

“I like you.” Theo whispers, tugging on a lock of dark hair playfully. Hadrian swats at him, turning to hide his heated cheeks, but allows the warm hand to stay as it runs through his hair gently.

“The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!” And a cheer rises from Beauxbaton and all of the more unsavory calls from the boys of Hogwarts and Durmstrang are ignored. Dumbledore kisses her hand and sends her toward the other room with Krum.

The flame shines red again and each Hogwart’s house is silent in apprehension. “The Hogwarts champion… Cassius Warrington!” And it’s silent until the Slytherin boy stands up and Hadrian can’t help but stand up and clap loudly immediately with two other 7th years. Immediately, the entire Slytherin house is on it’s feet clapping, joined next by Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff claps and most of Gryffindor does nothing, but the shout of, ‘Even a Puff would’ve been better,” is heard and ignored.

Cassius ruffles Hadrian’s hair with a smirk as he walks by, a happy gleam in his eye. “How about them apples, kid.”

Dumbledore throws his arms wide with a proud smile, though his eyes are dark, “Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history, only one will win the Triwizard cup!” And Bartemius Crouch pulls the grey silk sheet from the cup.

It starts suddenly, the red flame bright in the low lights. Dumbledore steps forward with a confused furrow of his brows, arms raised as he catches the fourth piece of parchment. A mutter, and then louder, “Harry Potter. Where is Harry Potter?” Students begin whispering amongst themselves, curious and angry. Weasley is the same red as the flames of the choosing and Hadrian would feel vindictive if he wasn’t so scared.

Pansy stands up quickly, rage like fiendfyre in her eyes. “You can’t make him compete! He’s underage! He didn’t put his name in!”

“I didn’t, Headmaster, I swear on my magic! So mote it be!” The tingle of the vow rushes over everyone, but Dumbledore doesn’t pause his advancing.

“Perhaps Mr. Potter, you used your so loved fame to manipulate an older student into doing your bidding?” Snape sneers, though his dark eyes are alight with concern. In having spent so much time near the boy after he learned the truth, he viewed him as one of his snakes, and he would protect him at all costs. Not to mention, Lily had practically been his sister, and as a babe Hadrian had called him Uncle Sevvie. 

“I didn’t, Professor.” A sniffle. Dear Merlin, Snape won’t be able to handle it if the boy cries. He'd blow his cover to keep Hadrian happy. Oh, how soft he'd become.

Severus grabs ahold of Hadrian's shoulder, leaning down slightly to hiss to the twins. “Pansy, go floo your mother. Come Harry. With the others now.” Snape guides, pretending he doesn’t see the edge in the Headmaster’s eyes. No one notices Moody slip from the room, except a pair of wide unblinking blue eyes-.

---

“This is an outrage, Dumbledore, two champions from Hogwarts. One might think you staged this!” Karkaroff hisses, black eyes furious. Hadrian takes a step forward, having the older man lean down so he can whisper where no one will hear.

“I’d be careful what you say about the boy who destroyed your lord, traitor. You are nothing to me in comparison.” Hadrian’s eyes are cold, a glimmer of red shines bright a moment before fading. Karkaroff grows still and his mouth twists in fear and Hadrian takes a step back, freaked out by the surge of fury he felt. He'd have to tell his Mother about the uncomfortable feeling.

Cassius wraps an arm over the boy's boney shoulders, a show of commanderie to the others in the room. “Harry here is the one who encouraged me to join, why would he do that if he was just going to join himself, Headmaster? Plus, when I was researching the cup, it only picks champions for schools, so someone would have had to make Harry his own school, which isn’t exactly 4th year material, sir.” Cassius adds the sir on mockingly, chocolate eyes cold. 

The door of the side room slams open and standing there like an avenging angel is Yvonne Parkinson. “I do hope something is being done to absolve this grievous attack on my son, Headmaster.” She smirks as she sees his face turn white. Oh yes, the time for hiding was over with a blatant move like this. “Hadrian, love, drop your glamour for Mother.”

“Vat ees going on ‘ere, Dumblydore?” Madame Maxine intones, her voice deep and harsh. Her dark eyes taking in the newly revealed face of the 14 year old.

“I assure you I ha-”

“Lies do not become us, Headmaster. Surely you should explain how you kept sending a student back into his severely abusive home and when he went to get help,  he was told he isn’t who he thinks he is.” Snape boredly drawls, pleased at the chance for revenge. This man had been controlling him for close to two decades, and it was time for something to change.

“Severus, I don’t--” There is no twinkle in his eyes now.

“Then perhaps you would like to explain the block on my sons magic or the memory charms you performed on your own Medi-Witch? What do you think, Minister?” No one had noticed the Minister with Lady Parkinson commanding their attention so fiercely. Yvonne offers a cruel smirk as she walks over to her son, cupping his soft cheek as she checks him over and then pulling him into a tight hug. The door opens yet again and this time it’s Pansy, Daphne, and Tracey with Auror Malfoy leading a team.

“Albus Dumbledore, you are under arrest for crimes of kidnapping, line theft, attempted murder…” The previously light twinkly blue eyes are nearly black with fury. How dare that shameful little miscreation think he could take over the board. 

---

Hadrian sits staring at the Minister, who looks uncomfortable. “So you’re saying I have to compete anyway?”

“Well no… Yes.” The Minister tugs at his collar and avoids eye-contact. Yvonne sits, furious and protective, watching as her youngest child is told that he either competes or loses his magic, because he had wrote his name on the parchment, even if the intent wasn’t to enter it into the cup.

“THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT!” Sirius Black growls, animalistic is his anger. The Minister gives the escaped convict a tense look, but quickly glanses away as Lord Malfoy clears his throat pointedly. 

“I’m sorry, but there is nothing I can do.”

“I am very displeased with this, Minister, make no mistake. Come Hadrian, let’s get you back to your sister.” And with a hand on her son’s shoulder, she glides from the office. No one, except the woman who left it, notices the small black spider weaving it’s web in the corner of the large office. Cornelius Fudge wouldn’t be Minister much longer after this blunder.

Notes:

I was rewatching the Goblet of Fire scene and it cracks me up, Daniel's acting. And also Hermione in that scene pisses me off.
xx

Chapter 7: flesh and bone and iron and steel

Notes:

I'm so sorry it took so long, I post as I write them ( i wrote the other chapters in two days ) and Im really bad at writing continually!!

edited 2.23.18

xx

“Contrary to popular belief, it’s unwise to temper creatures of flesh and bone like steel.” -Amrit Brar  

Chapter 7 // flesh and bone and iron and steel

Drowning. Dark water rushing by as clawed hands pull at his ankles, holding tight enough to bruise. Bubbles pushing from his mouth and nose and help me! Glowing white eyes and scales. A lovely song lulling him deeper. His chest feels as though it’s caving in and the icy water has turned black with his blood. Mother, come find me! A boy with raven hair and skin glowing under the murky lake water. Eyes wide, unblinking. He propels himself forward...

-Dream Journal Entry # 71

---

He can’t breathe.

Hadrian had been told from a very young age how little he meant, how useless/stupid/freaky/unlovable he was. Vernon had never minded hitting him, whether with belts or his fists, and Petunia used a razor blade to carve her hate into his back in short routine little lines. He had been starved of meals for weeks at time, kept in a cupboard, made to use the bathroom once a day (on the days they let him out, otherwise it was a bucket in the corner), shower in less than 5 minutes with cold water. He had been hit/sliced/kicked/bitten by people who were supposed to love him (and one dog courtesy of Marge) and he had come out fine, really he did, hardly that damaged. Of course there were scars, and he slept curled up in the corner of his bed at Hogwarts because it felt too big, and yeah, maybe he has panic attacks and nightmares and he can’t keep down more than a few bites at a time, and that’s not even mentioning all of the issues he’s encountered in the Wizarding world, but he’s well adjusted with no issues and it can’t get any worse… Right?

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrongwrongwrongwrongwrongwrongw r o n g

Anark, the Goblin at Gringotts responsible for the Parkinson vault, has pity in his eyes as he watches the boy in front of him gasp for air. He watches as the mother tries to get him to match his breathing to hers. It doesn’t work. Hadrian sobs and desperately tries to draw in air and drools on himself as he struggles. “Shh. Come on baby, breathe for me. I promise we will get it off. Shh darling, Momma won’t let anyone hurt you again.” She rubs his back soothingly and stares deeply into his green eyes.

“Ex-explain the block ag-again-again, please?” Hadrian hiccups, grasping his mother’s hand tightly. Anark waits until they are both sitting in their chairs and calm (or as calm as a child having a relatively severe panic attack can be) again before speaking.

“When wizards had magical slaves, primarily children from their mistress, a block was placed on them. It’s done with an enslavement ritual. It connects two wizards together, allowing the so-called ‘Master’ to siphon the magic of the ‘slave’ and add it to their own magical reserves, leaving the Slave with only a portion of their magic.” Anark shuffles and locks his hands together. “Typically, the ‘Master’ will block off magic to siphon later so it just sits in your body, waiting to be used, gaining… interest in a way. You become a living magical container to be used indefinitely. Weaker Slaves will of course die from either the draining or containing, but you are an extremely powerful wizard who, despite how physically weak your body is, can contain a considerable amount of magic.”

Yvonne presses the tips of her fingers to her red lips, furiously plots Dumbledore’s death, and clutches her son’s hand tightly, “How do we break the block?”

“We cannot. The Master is the only one who can break the block since it has bonded their magic. It was done using a blood ritual. You, of course, understand how tricky and binding blood rituals are, Lady Parkinson.” Anark grunts, face blank in waiting for her outrage.

Instead, black eyes glitter with sorrow and Hadrian pukes on the floor. Yvonne leads Hadrian from the office while Lucius leans forward to talk to the goblin about alternative means of destroying the bond.

---

They floo back to Hogwart’s and come out in Severus’ private rooms. Hadrian hasn’t stopped shaking and Severus sends for Hadrian's sister and their friends. While waiting for his friends, Hadrian examines the room around him. Instead of solid black and green, the theme seems to be a lovely plum shade with bronze. Green tear-filled eyes watch as black clad legs shuffle over and Severus sits in front of him on the floor, from where Hadrian is perched on the couch. His breath shakes and he fears his lungs will collapse. He hopes they do. Anything would be better than being a slave who could lose his magic at any time.

“Did you know purple is my favorite color?” Snape says, so quietly, passing on a secret to the scared boy in front of him. “Your mother, Lily, bought me an eggplant once from a muggle market and I placed a preservation charm on it to keep it alive as long as I could because I loved the color so much. Anytime she saw something purple, she’d buy it and sneak it to me in the mail. It was a fun game almost, pretending the gift were something dangerous or illegal and we were to get it to the next safe place.”

Hadrian leans forward, feeling the chill of the dungeons settle around him like an embrace, and clutches Severus close. Potion-stained fingers curl into his hair as he is clutched tight against the elder's chest.

---

The five year old boy stands on a small step-stool at the stove, lips curled in while he concentrates. There's bacon cooking in the pan. The small child, whose name is Freak, is focused on making breakfast for his relatives. Perhaps if he cooks and cleans and does nothing freaky, they’ll finally love him like they love Dudley. Dudley wasn’t nice and Aunt Petunia still called him a nice boy, so maybe Freak wasn’t being nice properly.

“BOY! You’ve burnt the bacon!” Petunia hisses and swings the fire-hot pan at her doll-like nephew. She hated her sister’s son. He was another Lily, prettier, nicer, smarter, magical...

The grease from the bacon burns him through his shirt and the pan is searing against his chest. He could feel hot grease splattered on his neck and cheek and viciously fought screaming in anguish. It hurt so bad…

Dream Journal #24

---

The dining table in Severus’ quarters had to be expanded to fit the large group of wizards and witches comfortably. Onyx eyes scanned the 4th years sitting on one side, and Yvonne and the Malfoy’s on the other. Yvonne was sitting straight, dark eyes cutting as she stared down Theodore Nott, who looked relaxed and calm (which was quite the feet with those bottomless eyes watching him).

“Longbottom has been keeping me updated. Hadrian isn’t taking the news well. He hasn’t left his bed in a week. He won’t eat. I’ve snuck up once with the twin’s help and Pansy has managed to get up there twice before the Gryffindors boot us out.” Theo clenches his hands and presses his knuckles into his thighs. “What do we do?”

Lucius taps his snake cane on the floor, the sound sharp as it echoes off the stone. “I contacted Dumbledore through Julius to see what he would require in order for us to convince him to release the bond. He is taking his time replying. I regret needing to inform him about the bond because he may use it once the blocks on his magic are off if we can't convince him to remove the bond, but in the event that that happens, Narcissa may have found a dark bond ritual that would override the one between Dumbledore and Hadrian. I would like to point out I am willing to Imperio him if need be.” Severus carefully thinks about the bond, and all the information he read on it, and leans forward slowly.

“We can’t imperio him. It’s warded against the imperio in the ritual. Like how the fidelis is hidden from truth serum and Legilimens. He has to somewhat willingly let the bond go.” Pansy leans into Daphne and Tracey as she carefully shuts her emotions behind her occlumency walls.  

“What if we kill Dumbledore?” Tracey throws out, teeth clenched.

“Slaves die if the Master dies. Keeps the slaves from killing their Masters.” Severus answers.

Yvonne lets her body slouch forward and pressed her forehead into the cold wood table. “We need to get him out of Gryffindor. We can’t help him with him so far away and I have no interest in taking him out of school. He needs us all.”

Daphne slams her hands onto the table as she jumps up. “I may have a way to get him out of Gryffindor! I’ll be back!”

---

“In the library, there is a book on Hogwarts customs and rules, and in it there are rules for changing houses. If a student goes through a significant change and no longer seems to suit their house, a head of house may request for a resort. On that same vein, if a head of house believes a student will suit their house more, that head of house may call a resort. The resort is only valid if the Hat accepts the student's resort.” Daphne reads aloud, Pansy near bouncing in her excitement.

“Professor, you could get him out of Gryffindor!” Tracey hisses excitedly to Snape, who offers a tiny smile in return. Yvonne let’s out a wet laugh and leans heavily onto Narcissa, who covers her mouth as she smiles brightly in relief.

---

Hadrian blinks quickly as sunlight invades his bed, his curtains having been drawn back quickly. Caramel curls shine honey in the late afternoon sun. “Theo?” He asks with a tired shuffle away from the bright light.

“Come on, Haddy. You need a shower and food. Your mom and Snape have a bunch of stuff to talk to you about.” Theo stares at the hand in his as he leads Hadrian to the bathroom. The hand is small, when pressed together it came only to his first knuckle. The skin was soft, where unblemished, and the blue veins were dark against the translucent skin. Hadrian clenches his fingers further over Theo’s.

---

Hadrian slips his clothes off mechanically, not paying attention to the hazel-eyed boy leaning on the sink, and steps into the steaming shower without saying anything. As the hot water cascades down his back, he hears a deep moan and peeks over his shoulder to see Theo’s eyes raking over his form. His cheeks heat and he quickly faces the wall. The smell of roses fills the bathroom and he washes with his new soap (a gift from Daphne). He glances shyly back every now and then to see Theo watching him with dark eyes and a tense white-knuckled grip on the sink.

The moment the water is off, Hadrian finds himself shoved against the cold tile of the wall and lets out a startled gasp. He looks up to see nearly black eyes looking down at him. Theo’s lip is bitten to the point of bleeding and he buries his nose into Hadrian’s neck.  “You’ve no idea how much of a walking wet dream you are, do you?”

Small hands curl into Theo’s button up and Theo grasps slim damp hips. “Theo!” Hadrian whimpers as Theo nips at his neck. “We have to talk to my mo---ohhhh- Theo! We can’t--” A knee slides between his and he throws back his head at the pleasurable pressure.

“Shit. Supposed to court you properly, but Merlin, you’re making this impossible.” Theo trails his tongue along one sharp collarbone before forcefully pulling himself away. He backs up and hands Hadrian the outfit Daphne picked up for him. A large jade green silk blouse with billow sleeve, cinched at the wrist and open wide at the neck and flowing down to right past mid-thigh on him (who cares if the shirt is Theo’s and that he threw out the other shirt Daphne gave him). Hadrian blushes as he pulls on the skin-tight silk boxers and then black leggings which hug his legs tightly. He pulls on fuzzy green socks from Tracy and slides after Theo toward the dungeon happily, hands clasped tight together.

---

Pansy kicks her feet as she sits in the dark wood chair, waiting for Theo to come back with her twin. Her dark hair tickles her cheeks as she blows her breath out harshly. She stares down at her dangling feet, her black loafers and white knee socks, and frowns. If she kept up with this much stress, she was sure to get frown lines which she could not allow. Beauty and money got you everywhere in the world and she needed both to extract revenge for what had happened to her family.

The portrait is silent as it swings open, but immediately everyone is watching the door as Theodore leads Hadrian in. The delicate boy is even skinnier, paler, and looks at if a weak breeze will blow him over. Daphne lets out a soft coo and throws her arms around him. “My little pretty darlin’, missed you so much! Trace can’t braid hair at all!” Daphne swings his open hand happily, giving Theo’s hand wrapped around Hadrian’s a smug smirk.

Yvonne steps up and cups her sons sunken cheeks, pressing kisses to the chilled flesh. “Come, my love, sit with me.” She leads him to one of the large stuffed chairs and pulls her son into her lap, wrapping him in a warm blanket. She feels his face burrow into her neck and runs her fingers through his dark hair. "It's time to come out of hiding, my love. Change is about us."

---

The next day Hadrian Parkinson is sorted into Slytherin house and Lucius Malfoy receives the long-awaited letter from Albus Dumbledore.

Chapter 8: two bad apples

Notes:

A short intermission to introduce some characters which will be important and to get some sibling bonding.

!!! I have decided that there will be descriptive smut in the later chapters so if you don't like sex scenes between m/m f/m f/m/f or m/m/m then don't read!!!

“One bad apple ruins the bunch. Two bad apples leave no witnesses.” -Amrit Brar

xx

Chapter 8 // two bad apples

 

The Slytherin common room is quiet, a few groups of students scattered. The green lighting from the lake reflects off of Pansy’s skin and makes her look corpse-like. When she looks at her brother, happily sitting on the floor learning to properly play chess from Blaise, he resembles an Inferi (The locket. Regulus needed to protect his lords locket from--) . The dark haired girl pulls in a strong breath and turns back to her transfiguration essay. She lets the soft laughter from her twin and the chatter of her friends lull her into peace.

---

Dinner that evening is loud. The Great Hall is full of everyone trying to catch sight of Harry Potter-who is actually Hadrian Parkinson-who got the headmaster arrested-who is now a Slytherin-and most likely the next Dark Lord if the rumor mill is to be believed. Hadrian is surrounded by his friends on all sides, hands in Theo’s and Daphne’s. Hundreds of eyes watch as the group of 4th years march toward their table, emotionless masks in place.

Pansy makes both hers and Hadrian’s plate while Theo soothingly runs his nose along Hadrian’s jaw, whispering softly into his ear to distract the anxious boy. The Weasley twins plop themselves on either side of Tracey and Daphne, George offering a flirty smile to the honey-blonde. George laughs as Daphne offers a wink of one pale blue eye as the redhead gives Tracey a smug smirk and she rolls her eyes, but a smile dances across her lips. Blaise distracts Theodore with a conversation on their latest potions essay and Hadrian nibbles on the bowl of fruit sitting on his plate happily.

“So Greengrass, I heard you’re pretty impressive with a wand when it comes to transfiguration?” George asks as he leans closer to her, grin in place. He and Fred had a new idea that they wouldn't mind alittle help with.

Her mouth quirks playfully as she glances at him through her lashes, “I’m impressive with a wand in quite a few situations, Weasley.” The freckled boy laughs lowly, smirk in place. 

Laughter from the Gryffindor table, obnoxiously loud enough to be heard across the Great Hall at the Slytherin table, draws the attention of the group. Pansy gives Ronald Weasley the dirtiest look she can as she watches food fly out of his open mouth. Daphne fights a gag at the disgusting display and sets her spoon down quickly. Blaise is too distracted by the golden-blonde chubby boy nibbling on a biscuit to care about the Blood-traitor.

Tracey pushes her peas around her plate with a bored frown and shoves her hair away from her neck with a grimace. She hates the feeling of the strands tickling her nape. Leaning her elbow on the table, manners be damned, she chats idly with Hadrian and Fred about new candy ideas for their prank shop idea. She throws out the idea of finding a financial backer and that she knew a few who would be interested if they wanted. Fred laughs and promises not to ever prank her if she can find them one. 

The group of Slytherins (and two Gryffindors who should have/could have been Slytherins) freeze as Hadrian’s fork clatters noisily to the table, his hand slamming against the wood with a dull, but painful, sounding thud. “Hadrian?” Pansy asks, voice carefully blank in her fear, but silence is her answer. Her brother’s green eyes are blank and unfocused.
---

Lucius bows deeply to his lord, blonde hair shrouding his face, body carefully relaxed. Voldemort rises from his high-back chair, the soft blood-red velvet dragging silent across his black robes, red eyes focused on who should be his most loyal follower. “My mossst dear Luciussss, tell me, who would you choosssse? Me or the child?” The hypnotic voice asks, enticing an honest answer, a voice like the imperious.

“My lord, please. O-Only you.” Lucius curses himself for the stumble as he forcefully pushes all of his fond memories of his godson out of his mind. His hands clench from where they are hidden under his robe. He can see Severus off to the side, black eyes calculating, cold. Severus has just as much to lose as his friend and together, they must protect that green-eyed child.

Voldemort laughs lowly, wand twirling between his long fingers. “You dare lie to your lord, Luciussss? ?” Voldemort pulls his lipless mouth into a cruel sneer. “Crucio.”

---

Hadrian blinks his eyes open slowly, squinting at the bright light in the infirmary, and focuses on the blank ceiling he knows well. He can feel a hand in his and carefully turns to look at his sister who is already watching him. “Was it a vision? Mother said that any changes Dumbledore makes to your core can affect it. His magic may be blocked now, but it wasn't for a few hours after the arrest. Maybe he did something.”

Hadrian grimaces at the thought of his magic being tampered with even more. He pulls his legs up close to his body for comfort as he answers his twin. “Uncle Lucius was getting crucioed for preferring me over You-Know-Who.” Hadrian now knew that calling him Voldemort made the Dark Mark flare in pain and no longer felt the urge to stubbornly say it. Causing pain to his new-found family brought him no satisfaction.

Pansy made him scoot over on the bed and they arranged themselves to face each other, hands entangled.  “You told me about the ritual to bring him back. Are you going to change how it happens?” Pansy asks, no judgement on her face. She was proud of being a dark witch but Hadrian had been brought into the Wizarding World listening to Light wizards who loved bashing the Dark. To Pansy, and the Old Ways, it was clear that Magic was Magic, classification didn’t matter.

“It’s probably crazy, especially since we don’t exactly know what happened back all those years ago, but I think I should help bring him back. Help him get his mind back. Mother told me about his real views before he lost his mind and I think he was right. Muggles and Muggle-borns who go back into the muggle world are dangerous to us. Muggles are terrible. They attack and kill anything that doesn’t fit into their belief system. They have a whole religion based upon a guy who muggles nailed up on wood for performing ‘miracles’. I bet Jesus was a wizard.” Hadrian grumbles and watches Pansy snort. She fights against blushing at the undignified sound.

“I bet you could create a better ritual to bring him back with all of us helping. Tracey is a master at Runes. Blaise is an expert in most languages thanks to his mom. Draco has access to the Malfoy library, and Narcissa has access to the Black library. As much as it pisses me off, Draco does the second highest grades in our year right behind the Mudblood, who I swear is cheating. Theodore is a genius at charms and spell-weaving.” Pansy pulls the thin hospital blanket higher over their shoulders. They ignore Madame Pomfrey as she putters around them casting diagnostic spells on Hadrian.

After the matron leaves, Hadrian blinks slowly in concentration. “When we were with the Goblins and they had us put my blood on a piece of parchment for the family revealing thing, it said that Thomas Marvolo Slytherin was my godfather along with both Sirius and Uncle Lucius. Bellatrix Black was my other Godmother with Aunt Cissa. Can you tell me more about them? Who else is alive?”

"I'll tell you all about them if you can give me some time. I'll introduce you to our cousin and show you the Black family tapestry along with the Parkinson's."

Pansy stands up and helps him pull on a comfortable silk shirt (this time it’s navy blue and also Theo's) and loose silk capris. He ignores the shoes she holds out, preferring to feel the cold stone on his bare feet. She helps him slide on a black velvet robe that swirls gracefully around his ankles and they slip from the infirmary quickly. 

---

Hadrian sits pulling Daphne’s long hair into a simple fishtail braid from where he is perched on the back of the couch in the common room.  Tracey is draped across the rest of the couch, long legs tossed carelessly over Daphne’s lap. “I think I want to cut my hair off. Kind of like Yvonne’s, all short and even.” Pansy sits up eagerly from where she was sitting knitting by the fireplace.

“Can I cut it? I won’t mess it up.” Pansy crows excitedly. Tracey rolls her amber eyes, grimace obvious on her face, which Pansy ignores as Tracey nods her permission anyway. Hadrian laughs and begins attaching glowing pink stars into Daphne’s hair. “Oh, I’ll be right back!” Pansy quickly dashes toward the 7th year boy dorms, determination in every step. Hadrian shakes his head in exasperation and slides from the couch and makes his way to his Theodore.

Blaise and his older brother Antonio are playing chess across from them with Theo watching over while reading an old book on Dark Magic. The hazel-eyed boy looks up as his book is gently pushed away and a sleepy-eyed Hadrian slides to his knees in front of him. A head is rested on his knee as Hadrian looks up at him. “You alright, love?” Theodore asks softly, tugging on a strand of dark hair.

“Mhm. Tired. Think I might go to bed soon. Gotta say goodnight to Sev, but don’t feel like moving.” Hadrian pushes his face into the leg he’s leaning against and sighs as his eyes close. He can talk to Sev tomorrow, he tells himself. He falls asleep quickly, not even waking as strong arms lift the slight boy and carry him to bed.

---

Warrington is focused on a piece of parchment when Pansy storms into the boys dorms, barely glancing up at the loud stomps. However, the boy in the bed with him gives her an irritated glare. His grey eyes watch as the small girl plops herself on the bed next to him and stares him down. “You’ve not introduced yourself to your cousin yet and I think he’d like to meet you.” The boy in question says nothing, just examines her with heavy lidded eyes, smears of black from sleepless nights beneath the emotionless greys.

Crucis Black is a spitting image of his mother, Pansy thinks, with the cold personality of his father entangled with the Black family madness.

“Would he like to meet me, dear Pansy?” Crucis finally answers as he sits up, curly black hair falling gracefully around his shoulders in an ebony mess with gold trinkets and baubles entangled. She ignores the shiver of fear that traces her spine at his intense gaze and crosses her ankles neatly.

She raises her chin slightly and peers at the pale boy from the corner of her eye. “Hadrian is planning on helping bring our Lord back. I assure you he has no qualms with your parentage like most of the idiotic youth that surrounds us. He has inherited both the Sight from the Parkinson line and the Madness from the Blacks. I believe you’ll find a good friend in him.” She tells him as he rises from the bed, body bare. She glances away from the nude boy and glances at Warrington. The tan boy watches shamelessly as his boyfriend pulls on a velvet robe and leans against the dark wood of the bed frame. Neither of the boys glance as the bedroom door opens, though Crucis relaxes into the arms that encircle his waist. Antonio Zabini latches a dark mouth onto a pale neck and barely glances at Pansy. Cassius slides his arms around both of his boyfriends tightly and rests his head on Crucis' hip. 

“I’ll meet him then. Let’s hope he doesn’t shame the Black family.” The smirk he gives her is chilling and she blinks slowly in return. She watches as Crucis tugs on one of Antonio's waist-length braids with matching gold beads interlaced in the dark locks. She doesn't stay much longer as the darker skinned males begin trying to remove their pale companions robe.

---

Theo wakes up slowly, warm and calm. He can hear soft tapping against the window. A mermaid perhaps. Or maybe a dumb fish. He ignores it, instead rolling over to stare at the new addition in his bed. He raises his hand and rests his fingertips across Hadrian’s bottom lip. He can feel soft puffs of air against his knuckles and smiles fondly. He rests his knuckles against a flushed cheek, running his thumb along the sharp jawline. 

Hadrian was everything Theo was looking for in his life-bonded. Kind, intelligent, interesting. But the fragile body of the dark-haired boy played deception to the cutting mind beneath. Theodore had seen the sadistic gleam in the emerald eyes and knew that when their lord rose, Hadrian would not be cowed by bloodshed. He was strong and ambitious now that he no longer hid himself. As the Harry Potter mask Hadrian had adopted began to fade away, Theodore was left with the most beautiful person he’d ever met. As quick to kiss as to kill. A fitting Consort for a young Heir.

Notes:

Don't forget to comment !! Next chapter will bring the return of Albus Dumbledore and his merry band of the Fire Chickens!xx

Chapters 1-8 have been updated for spelling mistakes and small plot details!

Chapter 9: light of day

Notes:

xx don't forget to comment. Tell me what you think is going to happen!!

“The dark doesn’t intend to hurt you- only the creatures who plot during the cruel, cold light of day.” -Amrit Brar

Chapter 9// light of day

 

Albus Dumbledore sat resting in his bed in his cell. A cell, the old man mused, for the defeater of Grindelwald. This is how the treat their rescuer. Their hero. He sets his gnarled hands on the table as he glances over the morning paper. It was inside out thanks to it coming from a guard from the midnight shift. A lost kitten was found, how wonderful. The ex-headmaster sipped his tea slowly only to choke at the latest front page article by Rita Skeeter.

Innocent Man Thrown in Azkaban: Sirius Black and his fight for the Truth

Who else's life has Dumbledore meddled in? What other lies has the public been told? Dear reader--

 

In a fit of rage, Albus shreds the newspaper into tiny pieces, chest heaving. How dare that mutt!! He grips his hands together tightly as he paces in his cell. Everything was falling apart around him and he needed his magic to fix it. Perhaps he could ask to see Kingsley, he doubts the auror-in-training Tonks (whose Mother was a Black) would care for him after this article. He needed to get Rita dealt with quickly. Not to mention Sirius locked back up in his old house. Oh, new plans would need to made and quickly.

 

---

Neville Longbottom stares at his friend from his spot at the Gryffindor table. Harry-Hadrian, he corrects himself, had been the only other student to be kind to him. Encouraged him to stand up for himself in both school and against his grandmother. And how did he repay the kindness shown to him, how did he thank his friend?

 

By being too scared to approach him at the Slytherin table.

 

Hadrian had refused to leave his bed for a week and Neville had been so worried, and now that he sees his (rather sickly looking) best friend, he panics and is stuck halfway between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. The blonde gasps as his arm is snagged and the choice is taken from him. “Oh dear Haddy, look who I found? It’s your chipmunk.” Daphne teases and pushes Neville toward his tiny friend.

 

Hadrian looks up with a blinding smile and quickly stands to pull Neville into a hug. His soft friend had always freely given comfort to Hadrian when he had needed it and he couldn’t ever be scared of him. “Do you want to sit with us? Sit between Theo and Blaise!” Hadrian pushes his chubby friend between the Slytherin boys with an innocent smile, which no one believes.

 

Blaise watches on in amusement (and slight panic because his crush, that cherubic angel, was currently sitting down beside him dear Merlin) and Daphne sits chatting happily with the new addition at the table.

 

Neville thinks he should have let the hat put him in Hufflepuff. 

 

---

 

To Lord Malfoy,

 

You asked me what it would take to remove the block.

 

I want all charges dropped against my person and the freedom to return to the school. I want this matter dropped. Everything can just go back to the way it was before.

 

Surely I’m not asking for too much. You can handle this simple matter?

 

Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore,

Order of Merlin, first class, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

 

---

 

Yvonne gives the letter a contemplative frown and runs her wand over it again. “He really did try to use compulsions on this? Who did he get to put them on it?”

 

Narcissa hands her dearest friend a Scotch while sipping on her lemon tea. Lucius rests his head against his wife’s shoulder as he laughs. “That old fool. I can't think of many in the Ministry who would risk their jobs for Dumbledore. It doesn’t much matter. I found an older ritual I can use to remove the block on Hadrian and put Dumbledore under our control. It’s a very dark ritual so we will have to be careful of course, but nothing I cannot handle.”

 

“Hadrian would be crushed if something was to happen to you, his dear Uncle Lucie.” Lucius gives Yvonne a scathing look, but she simply smirks into her Scotch.

 

A sudden pop announces the entrance of the oldest, and most loyal, house elf Tibble. “Master Malfoy sir, theres be a man at the floo whose be coming to see you.”

 

The sound of footsteps in the hall causes the three adults to tense slightly, but they relax as the door slams open. “Luci, you sly Slytherin you! Come here to me, you beautiful blonde fiend!” Sirius Black skips over to the now standing lord and delivers a smacking kiss on the lips of Lucius. Sirius pulls back with a barking laugh and picks up Narcissa to waltz her across the room. Lucius stares at his Scotch with a gobsmacked face and Yvonne laughs delightedly.

 

“I’m finally free, Cissa.” His chuckles slow into a choking sob. She wraps her cousin in a tight hug and holds him as he dissolves into tears. Yvonne swears on her magic at Dumbledore will feel her wrath.

 

---

Crucis sits gracefully slouched on the couch in the common room with Cassius and Antonio at the table near him working on their homework. He watches how the green flames of the fire dance off the skin of his boyfriends and pouts internally at the fact they need to get this essay done now or it’ll be late. He ignores the fact they were almost late on the essay because he was constantly distracting them. Antonio looks up with his dark violet eyes immediately settling on his pale boyfriend, who gives a suggestive leer in return.

Cassius sighs heavily and turns to reprimand Crucis, only to pause as a 4th year walks up to his boyfriend. “Hi.” The green-eyed boy spits out nervously. Cassius smiles slightly at the scene and turns back to his essay. Hadrian could handle his cousin.

 

“Hello.” Crucis returns boredly, though he examines the boy closely. The family resemblance was obvious. The Black features were strong on both of their faces. He blinks rapidly as a potion is shoved into his hand.

 

“Hi. I’m really bad at potions, but Theo has been teaching me the theory and Tracey has been teaching me to brew and Pansy told me you wanted this hair-growth potion and Daphne tested it and it works great so I bro--” A pale hand slides over his mouth and he stares nervously into the nearly colorless eyes of Crucis Black.

 

“Was this how you came up with introducing yourself to me?” Crucis asks, mouth twitching in amusement as the boy slowly nods with cheeks flushed pink. “Let’s go on a walk, shall we?”

 

---

 

The sun is setting as the Black boys reach the Great Lake. Crucis rises to his full 5 foot 8 frame as he stares at his cousin, whose large green eyes stare up at him with apprehension. “Pansy said you don’t care about who my parents are.”

 

Hadrian reaches out tentatively to touch the others boys hand and gives a soft squeeze. “I’d like to help our Lord rescue his most faithful from Azkaban. I got my Uncle Pads back from there, you should have your parents.” He gives a shy smile that causes Crucis’ cheeks to heat slightly. His cousin was the cutest little thing he’d ever seen. He wants to smush his cheeks together.

 

“My mother and father are not innocent. I don’t think Bellatrix Lestrange was ever innocent.” Crucis tilts his head to the side with a slow blink as Hadrian shrugs without care.

 

“No one is ever truly innocent. I mean, yeah, she tortured some people, but there are people I’d definitely like to torture so I’m not one to cast judgement. I’d like to get to know my aunt and uncle too. I’ve never had family before this, I’d like everyone to be together.” Crucis says nothing else, just sits in the grass watching the moon rise, hand trapped between the two small ones of his cousin, and if he silently cries for his parents, there is no one around who would hold it against him.

 

---

(o.“Why were you crying earlier, mi alma?” Antonio asks gently.

 

“I don’t cry,” Crucis grumbles. "However, in unrelated news, I accept Hadrian as a Black."

 

“He’s endearing. I like the kid.” Cassius mumbles, eyes nearly shut fully in sleep. “Don't worry so much, ayım.” Cassius presses a kiss to pale shoulder, tightening his grip on Antonio and Crucis' hand. The three snuggle close as they fall asleep.

 

---

 

Theodore can’t sleep.

 

He sits staring at the curtains on his bed with a small frown. He can’t get Hadrian out of his head and it’s even worse because he knows the object of his affection is one bed over. The room is quiet, each bed shrouded in a silencing charm. He rolls over with a sigh, only to pause in surprize as he meets Hadrian’s eyes from where he is peeking through Theo’s curtains. Theo smiles softly as he holds open his arms. Hadrian immediately crawls sluggishly into them. “You okay, love?”

 

Hadrian scowls softly, chapped lips tearing open at the sharp movement. “I’m just all worked up over nothing.” Hadrian huffs slightly as he laughs mockingly at himself, but still smiles up at Theo. "Just a vision that unsettled me. It won't happen anyway."

 

Theo leans forward and brushes his lips over his love’s eyebrow. Than an eyelid. The other. His small nose and soft cheeks. His chin. And finally, he captures those pink lips. Hadrian slowly curls a hand into Theo’s hair as he leans into the soft kiss. “Go to sleep, love. Check on Sirius in the morning and worry no more."

Notes:

mi alma- my soul
ayim - turkish for my moon

 

Comment what you think will happen next!!

xx

Chapter 10: a weapon who weeps

Notes:

I'm so sorry it took so long but life is hectic

Enjoy chapter 10 :)

Chapter 10 // a weapon who weeps

 

Albus Dumbledore watches the Minister with his twinkling blue eyes, gentle smile in place. He’s in an interrogation room. He knows that quite a few people are watching through the seemingly opaque wall. He can feel the dark gaze of Lady Parkinson like nails on the back of his neck and thinks of spiders and roses. How lovely, how deadly.

 

“Remove the block from the boy, Albus.” Moody, whom Albus thought would be on his side, growls, with his voice like gravel. Dumbledore’s face doesn’t change, but he rests his magically bound hands on the table in front of him. The room is chilled and his robes are orange with flashing palm trees. He takes great pride in the distractions he’s sure his robes cause.

 

“I’m afraid, my old friend, I have no recollection of what you are talking about. Blocks are serious things, you should hurry to remove it instead of questioning me. Who knows what could happen between now and you finding your answer, old friend.”

 

“Goblins. They found your magical signature in the block, and that was before they even looked up the compulsion spells. You have no one on your side.” Moody’s budding auror, Nymphadora Tonks, finally speaks. Albus sighs, If only they could see. It’s for the best.

 

“Time is such a curious thing.” Is all he replies. Yvonne feels dread curl itself tighter in her stomach. 

 

November 13th- the Weighing of the Wands

 

The room smells of lavender and chamomile as they work on the low level sleep potion. Hadrian crushes the blossoms while Pansy stirs the cauldron. He’s pleased that they work so well together because his potion skills are questionable at best. He can see the dark silhouette of Severus as he works, looming over Ron as the redhead sweats nervously. Hadrian bites his lip to keep from smiling. Pansy peeks over his shoulder to check on the flowers and lifts the ready blooms over the potion. As Pansy drops in the lavender, Hadrian watches the previously pale yellow liquid shift into a soft silvery lilac. He tucks a loose curl behind his ear mindlessly and marks on his parchment his observations of the changes.

 

“10 points to Slytherin for the Parkinson’s passable sleep aid.” Hadrian’s lip curl in amusement, passable was nearly perfect in surly Potion Master speak. The professor offers a quick twitch of his lips, the biggest smile he’ll give with others around, to the twins. Severus glides back toward the front of the classroom, and with a quick twist on his heel, robe billowing, he faces the class.  “I expect 13 inches on sommeil doux and its differences from Dreamless Sleep. It will be due on Monday as you enter. No late work accepted.”

 

The classroom is quiet, filled only with the clank of knifes against stone and soft murmuring between partners. Hadrian is glad for a break from the noise of Hogwarts, who only grows louder as the First Task approaches. He leans back against his desk, head tilted up and eyes closed. There is a headache building behind his eyes. A vision, he guesses.  Maybe it will tell him what he’ll be up against at the end of the month. He knows nothing about the previous tournaments and resolves to ask Cassius to study with him. The tall boy was surprisingly studious for being seemingly uncaring about his grades. The golden-skinned boy had offered to help him in any way he could throughout the tasks and Hadrian’s throat had tightened at the kind gesture, however simple.

 

Hadrian opens his eyes reluctantly as the door to the classroom opens. His gaze drops to the back of the room to see Cassius resting against the frame of the door. Speak of the Devil. Hadrian raises his lips into a friendly smile as whiskey eyes meet his. “Hello Professor, sorry for the interruption, but the Headmistress has requested Hadrian.” Cassius ignores Snape’s foul sneer at the interruption, used to his Head of House’s surly nature.

 

“Go.” Severus tells him, thin lips pursed as he turns toward his young charge. Hadrian shrugs his robes back on and snatches his satchel from the chair behind him. Pansy presses a quick kiss his cheek and Hadrian follows the 7th year from the room, sparing only a short glance back to see Theo watching him leave.

 

Their pace is unhurried and Cassius seems to take pleasure in his slow relaxed steps. “Where are we going?” Hadrian eventually asks as they take a staircase to the 4th floor. He trails his fingers over the cool-to-the-touch railing and shivers at a breeze across his neck. One of the ghosts . Cassius throws a kind smile over his shoulder.

 

“Weighing of the Wands. Crucis told me about it this morning so I didn’t have time to warn you. They’re going to make sure we have an adequate wand.” Cassius wraps an arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders and tugs him closer. Hadrian subtly presses his fingertips to his temples as a flash of pain nearly makes him stumble.“It’ll be fine, kid. Boring, I’d expect.”

 

Gathering himself, Hadrian snorts. “Since when is anything involving me boring?”

 

“Fair enough.” Cassius shrugs and the movement jars the still held Hadrian. One dark brow raises as a devilish smile crosses Cassius’ face. “Don’t worry about a thing, kid, I’m sure absolutely nothing will go wrong.”

 

“You’re going to jinx it.” Hadrian tells him.

 

Cassius just laughs. “You sound like Crucis.”

 

---

 

“Harry Potter!” A high voice greets as the boys walk into the small classroom. Hadrian examines the room with a frown. He can see Ollivander near Fleur and Krum, who both seem sour-faced and irritated. Karkaroff seems content to ignore Bartemius Crouch who is chatting loudly, oblivious to the un-listening ear. Headmistress McGonagall watches over the pair with sharp eyes, mouth twisted in unease.

 

A blonde woman in cat-eye glasses gives Hadrian a plastic smile and he takes a cautious step toward Cassius. “Poor, sweet Harry Potter. How about an interview, darling? I bet the camera loves you!” The woman presses close in to him and Hadrian straightens his shoulders in reflex. Something about her unnerves him. “Rita Skeeter, The Daily Prophet.” She holds out a limp hand.

 

Cassius steps between them with a sneer worthy of Severus.“You will refer to him as Heir Hadrian Parkinson or not at all, mudblood.” The casual reminder that she is not of noble blood seems to stall her and the boys push past.

 

The only interesting moment in the entire ceremony is when Ollivander picks up Cassius wand.

 

“Vocal cord of a Banshee, what a rare core.” Ollivander raises one white brow in mild surprise.

 

Cassius’ back straightens in pride. “My mother’s.”

 

“How interesting.” The wand wizard hums. The click of a camera echoes through the room.

 

---

 

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Harry.” Neville mumbles as Hadrian drags him toward the kitchens. Hadrian tickles the pear and Neville blinks in shock as the painting swings open. “How do you know about this?”

 

“The twins.” Hadrian smiles, fondness clear in his voice. “Those menaces gave me the location at the start of the year. Told me I looked peckish . The sods.” He settles into the worn wooden chair, Neville perching on the edge of a stool in front of him. “How has school been this year for you? Are the Gryffindors giving you any trouble?”

 

Neville flushes faintly. "It's really not that bad, Harry."

 

The chubby grows nervous at the dead eyed look that grows on his friend's face. In an unconscious movement, Hadrian presses his nails into the burns on his palms and digs . Neville makes a startled sound, catching the spying Elf’s attention. It’s not that bad, my boy. It’s for the greater good.

 

"Master Haddy?" Dobby asks, using his fingertips to gently pry Hadrian's fists loose.

 

As if electrified, Hadrian raises his head in a short jerky movement, mouth pursed. "I'm sorry. I spaced out." He takes a small sip of the fresh water set in front of him. Dobby chatters excitedly over his sipping. "How bad is it, Nev?"

 

Neville sighs and rests his eyes on his round stomach. He curls his hand into his white shirt. A cold hand on his startles him. Hadrian kneels on the floor in front of him, eyes soft and kind, looking haunting in the low lighting of House Elf magic. Neville’s lip trembles as he finally allows himself to cry, slumping down to the floor and wrapping himself in bone-thin arms. “Never change, Neville. You’re amazing the way you are.”

 

November 23rd- Night Before the First Task

 

Cassius runs a shaking hand down his face as he perches on the edge of his dorm bed. Across the room he can see Crucis staring him down, eyes furious. “They want you to do what?” Antonio brushes a comforting hand over his back and Crucis’ mouth seems to turn down further at that. “They’ve given you no time to prep and no hints, and boom you’re just supposed too--”

 

“Crucis, calm down.” Antonio murmurs, though there is a disquiet in his eyes. “We can make sure he stays safe.”

 

The mocking laughter Antonio gets in return turns his stomach and he watches as Crucis storms from the room, beaded hair tinkling. Cassius listens as the sound grows fainter. “He walks so quiet.” Cassius eventually says, hoping to break the tense silence.

 

Antonio leans his back against the wooden pillar of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. His brow furrows as his thoughts seem to take a dark turn. “Tony. Don’t. I’m a big wizard, Crucis is over-reacting. I can take care of myself. ”

 

“Crucis won’t allow that and you know it. You knew what you were getting into when you courted him, same as I.” The waist-length braids of Antonio glitter with gold beads, a mark of his courtship with Crucis, catching Cassius’ eye as his lover sighs deeply. Cassius runs his fingers over the simple golden band wrapped around the base of his throat, an old Black family heirloom to symbolize his pride and acceptance in being a chosen partner. Antonio leans forward and settles their foreheads together. “Please be careful. Everything is changing and I do think it would kill us to lose you.”

 

Cassius presses a chaste kiss to Antonio’s lips, squeezing his thigh with a tan hand before rising to hunt down their wayward lover.

---

“Do you have a plan?”

 

Hadrian raises his eyes from his borrowed potion book and gives Severus a nervous frown. “Vaguely.” His brow furrows. “Not really.”

 

Severus sighs, the strong exhale sounding painful to Hadrian’s ears. He settles himself further into the velvet couch. “Foolish boy.” Severus rises from his chair and moves toward the extensive bookshelf taking up nearly the entirety of his wall space. He browses only seconds before pulling a worn grey covered book from the shelf, holding it gently in his potion-stained hands.

 

Hadrian accepts the text into his lap and runs his fingers over the cover. “Secrets of the Black Lake .”

 

“I think you'll find chapter 3 particularly helpful.” Severus’ kiss to his forehead is warm and as he heads to bed, Hadrian feels calm.

Chapter 11: bone by fragile bone

Notes:

It’s been over a year but the comments were so sweet I just had to keep going

Chapter 11 // bone by fragile bone

September 1976 - Lily Evan’s 6th Year

“This is crazy,” The redheaded witch, sneaking through the hallways of Hogwarts, tells herself. Because it is. She knows it is. But it won’t stop her. As she nears the Room of Requirement, her heart begins to thrum harder in her chest. Her hand looks nearly grey in the moonlight as she lifts it to push open the waiting door. She inhales deeply as she stumbles in, a klutz to the end her mother would say.

Soft chatter reaches her ears as she walks into the warm and inviting room. Yvonne Parkinson, soon to be Lady Parkinson if her mother's health continued to fail, sat stretched out along the burgundy velvet couch with Regulus Black’s head pressed to her stomach. He watches her approach with calculating grey eyes. She pauses only inches from the couch, reaching a shaking hand out to touch Yvonne’s freshly charmed spikey white hair.

“Do you like it?” The Korean girl asks with her mouth pulled into a wicked smile. “I know how much you love tugging on my hair.”

Lily blushes, nodding softly. Regulus lets out a huff of amusement, raising himself onto his arms. Lily cautiously sits between them, her body tense with nerves. “Calm down, Lily. You know we’d never do anything without your permission.” Regulus keeps his face schooled, but Lily watches as he begins to pull back from her in his eyes. Their insecurities playing off of each other’s, especially his feelings of being not-enough courtesy of one heartless Walburga. She leans forward quickly and presses a kiss to the younger’s mouth. She feels a hand tangle into her loose hair, moving the auburn strands away from her neck. Yvonne’s mouth is warm where it presses to the skin of her shoulder.

“I want this.” She whispers. Regulus leans back with a sigh, cupping her cheek with one hand and pulling Yvonne into a kiss the other. Yvonne wraps an arm around Lily’s waist and Regulus pushes his head into her lap, his long legs thrown over the arm of the couch. “What do we do about James? I’ve told him I don’t want him and it means nothing to him. He just keeps getting worse.” Her green eyes fill with tears at the helpless feeling rising in her chest. She loved these two people and couldn’t tell a soul for risk of expulsion for an inappropriate relationship with other students.

Yvonne runs her fingers over her brow, a nervous habit she’d yet to break herself of Lily had long noticed. “We just have to take it one day at a time.” The Ravenclaw eventually says. Lily sighs but drops the topic. Now was a time to just relax in the comfort of her partners’ arms.

---

November 24th, The First Task

The sun has scarcely risen when he opens his eyes, mouth sour with the taste of sleep. His still hands are resting against his boney chest and he feels the calming beat of his heart against his fingertips. He breathes in slowly, holds it as he counts to 10, and exhales.

Again. Again. Again.

Hadrian sits up carefully, keeping his movements steady to avoid waking up Theo next to him. His sleeping arrangement plagues his thoughts as he slowly walks toward the bathroom, fingertips dancing along the wall. His cupboard had been small, but comfortable overall. The smell of dust and mildew had never much bothered him and he’d named each of the spiders whose homes rested above him. His bed was a sheet and thin scratchy blanket, but those late nights tucked in the dark hollow taking the time to, what some would call meditate, are all that’s kept him sane. Having Theo beside him…is odd but peaceful. He sighs and shakes his head.

His shower is short and cold, meant more to wake him up than to clean him. His attire for the day is a thin long sleeve black shirt with both the Parkinson and Black coat of arms. He is not representing Hogwarts and doesn’t want anyone to think he does. His pants are of a similar material and he forgoes shoes. They’d just be ruined in the lake anyhow since he hadn’t spelled them impervious.

Draco’s head rises as Hadrian passes his bed to get to the door, but he doesn’t say anything. Slowly, his head lowers and soft snores begin. Hadrian smiles fondly at the mussed fine blonde hair.

The stone is freezing beneath his feet but he tip-toes and makes a game of avoiding the cracks. His distraction does little to turn his attention from the nearing First Task. The friends awaiting him in the common room do a much better job.

Pansy looks more frazzled than usual, her black hair curly and frizzy instead of sleek and straight. As Hadrian takes a stand beside her. He can hear the others snickering as the twins eye their mirror counterpart. “I’m so thankful for Sleeking potions, and I could’ve cried when it ran out yesterday. Instead, I want to cry now.” Pansy moans dramatically, wiping away fake tears with relish. Hadrian laughs, using his hands to fluff his own curls into an ever wilder mess.

Daphne lets out a shocked gasp. “It can get worse!” She feigns a faint. “Oh dear me!” Cassius takes this time to stumble down from the boy’s dormitory, eyes still crusted with sleep. “Up early, aren’t you dear?” The blonde girl greets Cassius. He rubs the back of his neck with a soft flush.

“Cissy kicked me out of the bed. He’s worried about today is all.” He tells her as he wraps Hadrian in a one-armed hug. “Morning, kid. Nervous?”

“Feel like puking, yeah,” Hadrian answers with a helpless little shrug. Cassius huffs a laugh. “Hoping not to die today.”

“If I don’t die in the tournament, it’ll be Crucis who does me in.” He smiles a love-filled smirk

Frowning a bit, Hadrian points out, “He seems really worried.”

His serious tone has Cassius stilling, the older boy turning away from him with a sad look in his eyes. “I know he is, if it was him… Actually, I wouldn’t have let him enter at all. Antonio either. But they are not me and I have more to prove. I have to be on the same standing as them for our relationship to stay so balanced. I’m already at a disadvantage as a half-blood, a poor one at that.” Hadrian understands, dropping the serious topic on such an important day. He turns toward his friends, watching them banter to keep the mood light.

“Hadrian’s hair is worse than mine, so I’m not worried.” Pansy’s voice cuts through the growing noise of the common room. Hadrian makes an offended sound, Pansy’s snickers growing into cackles as Hadrian touches a hand to his hair with a narrow-eyed look in her direction.

With Tracey too busy laughing to be of any help on his side, Hadrian turns toward Blaise with a pleading look. “You’re both adorable, messy hair or not. Like kittens to throw in a river, trapped in a cloth bag.”

Tracey hiccups with her laughter, slumping and gasping desperately. Blaise has her laughing again when he mimes bagging Pansy and Hadrian and tossing them into a river, complete with a whooshing and splash sound effect courtesy of Daphne. Pansy pretends to drown, dark eyes rolling back in her head. Hadrian would be worried if he didn’t see her make that same expression every time someone said something she found stupid. Her expression sets Tracey off again, who Hadrian is beginning to believe had very little sleep last night.

Daphne jerks up from her kneeled position where she was pretending to mourn Pansy’s death. “Oh my, I cannot believe what juicey bit of gossip I forgot to tell you allllll about!”

---

Hermione looks up from her breakfast plate as the sound of footsteps reaches her ears. Nearing her is Hadrian, and the footsteps she hears are Cassius Warrington. The 7th year rises to his full 6 foot 2 height with a playful smirk dancing on his lips. Hermione runs her trembling hands over her uniform skirt and knows she is not going to like what is about to happen.

“Good morning, Granger.” Her old friend greets, eyes reflecting the candles above like Fiendfyre. She smiles primly.

“Harry. Lovely to see you.” Her tone is too sharp to be cordial, no matter how she tries to soften it. Dumbledore would be disappointed.

He snorts mockingly, his face contorted in a kind of anger she’s never seen. Shadows haunt his eyes and she finds herself looking away unnerved. This was not Harry, no. Dumbledore, whatever his plans had been, had created a much worse weapon. He’d created a survivor. Harry knew how to adapt to anything thrown his way. Dumbledore had made new mistakes leading to an outcome no one could have foreseen.

“Is it, Mudblood?” Cassius chuckles, slouching into the seat next to her. “Now, I’ve just gotten a fun bit of information I think you’d find fascinating.”

Hermione perks up despite herself. The noise in the room grows as more students make their way into the Great Hall. Hadrian keeps his eyes on the others around him, looking for a familiar redhead. “He’s still sleeping.” She tells him as she notices his wandering eyes. He keeps from looking around after that, his chest burning with an odd embarrassment.

Cassius leans his back against the table, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Rumor has it,” he sneers, “That your grades aren’t top of the class material without a little help.” Sharp tingles of delight trace his spine at her paling face.

“It would be a shame if the Ministry somehow got information of a Mudblood tampering with forbidden memory rituals. Isn’t that right, Her-mi-o-ne.” Daphne taunts, glittery pink lips pulled a stretch too wide to feel natural.

“Yes, I’d hate for there to be a reason for the Aurors to get involved.” Hadrian watches as Hermione bites her cheek straight through the tissue, hazel eyes furious. Daphne sets a wax-sealed envelope on the table in front of the wild-haired witch.

---

Cassius rests his cheek on his fist, sat facing a pacing Hadrian, who keeps giving the Black Lake far below them nervous glances. Footsteps can be heard climbing the long, thin staircase up to the sky high platform where the 4 champions wait in their pointed tent. Cassius slumps his shoulders, taking up step next to Hadrian with a lazy smile. “I can’t wait to win, Slytherin is going to finally hear some cheering.”

Hadrian laughs, “Yes, Slytherin will have to be cheered for on principle if nothing else since you are Hogwart’s only competitor.”

Cassius raises an eyebrow in response, mouth twitching into a fond smile. “I doubt I’ll have much support from any house other than ours, kid.”

Hadrian laughs, nerves dissipating as Cassius distracts him. “Crucis would have your heart for dinner if you lost, the whole of Slytherin probably seems a lot less scary than him.”

“I’d rather he have my cock.” Cassius gives a lewd smirk, breaking into a loud laugh at Hadrian’s scandalized expression. Hadrian’s eyes widen as he sees something behind Cassius, a bright smile on his lips. Blaise Zabini with a red-faced Neville Longbottom move to Hadrian’s side, passing him a simple silver wrist cuff. “For monitoring. If you need us, tap it with your wand and say ‘doxie’.” Blaise tells him. The chatter of the Headmistress’ speech comes to an end and Hadrian knows soon it will be time for the first task to begin.

Neville moves forward, slipping a small jar into Hadrian’s hand. “Use this, eat it. It’ll help you breath under water.” The blond whispers.

He pulls Neville into a hug, voice pitched low to keep Blaise from hearing him. “Tonight, in the kitchens. An hour before curfew.” Neville pats his back twice, before pulling away with a final squeeze.

Blaise rests a large, dark hand on Neville’s rounded waist as the heavier boy begins to sniffle. “Be safe, Harry, okay?”

“Of course, Nev. Get good seats. Keep Theo and Pansy out of trouble for me.” Hadrian smiles warmly, watching Blaise follow Neville from the tent. Hadrian gives the silver cuff a soft smile, clasping it around his wrist, running a fingertip over the engraved Z. His heart is full of warmth.

---

Pansy shoves a second year out of her way, offering a sneer, her nose high in the air. Behind her, Tracey covers her snickers with glove covered hands. The weather was unusually cold for November, and around them was a sea of black and green as they took their seats in the Slytherin stands. Standing out amongst them, showing their enthusiastic support, were two bright spots of red. The twins wave them over, sparring a kind smile toward their fellow Gryffindor Neville, whose hand is clasped tight in Blaise’s. Neville looks down at the bracelet wrapped around his wrist, and then the high tent where Hadrian waits. 

 

“Bets! Place your bets!” Fred grins widely. 

 

“Bets taken, bets taken here!” George grins back.

 

“Step up, folks. Who fancies a flutter in today’s bloodbath?”

 

“Smart money’s on Krum to survive.” George says, winking at Daphne. She shakes her head fondly, placing a 20 galleon bet on Hadrian. He’d win she knew.

 

“Your attention please! Thank you very much.” The Minister bellows. “This is a great day for all of us. Each of the three tasks ahead involve very considerable danger. Please keep your seats at all times. This will minimize any risks you may be exposed too...”

---

Hadrian did not feel like a champion. No, he felt scared. Worried. Nervous. With each passing moment, he felt closer to fainting, or at least closer to a nervous breakdown. The leaden weight in his stomach had gone nowhere. Something bad was still going to happen and he had no idea how to avoid it. 

Rita Skeeter smiled toothily with her cherry red lips, carefully scooting around Cassius as if he was a bogart. Hadrian almost laughs, especially when he sees the smug gleam in his friend’s eyes. Her camera flashes, snapping a picture of the competitors grouped uncomfortably together.

Headmistress Mcgonagall enters the tent with her burgundy robes fresh pressed, not a strand of hair out of place. “Good day, champions, gather ‘round please.” Hadrian stands next to Cassius, watching the Headmistress wearily. They’d spoken very little since he’d discovered Dumbledore’s misdeeds and he hadn’t had the heart to examine her hand in it all. “Now you’ve waited, and you’ve wondered, and atlast the moment has arrived. Bartemius, the keys please.” 

“Each of you shall draw out a key, each as unique as you are, using your wand. The objective is simple. Get the key safely from the Squid in the Black Lake.” Mcgonagall explains, “ and no, you cannot just summon the key once it has been placed in the water.” 

Bartemius Crouch steps forward. “Champions, in a circle around me. Miss Delacour, over here. Mr. Krum, and Mr… Parkinson, here you go. Stand here.” Bartemius opens a dark cloth pouch, shaking it to hear the metal keys jingle together. “Now, Miss Delacour, if you please…”

Hadrian chews a mouthful of gillyweed, barely choking it down as Headmistress Mcgonagall’s wand flares green, and they all dive from their high perch into the Black lake.

As he dives into the ice cold water of the Black Lake, he keeps an eye out for Cassius, swimming nearer to his older friend. He had warned Cassius against the dangers of the Lake, and the bottom-crawlers that would drag him down. When Cassius had gotten him from Professor Snape’s class the day of the Weighing of the Wands, Hadrian should’ve been more on edge. He knew Cassius’ would get hurt even then, but he hadn’t truly understood. Not like he did now. He needs to listen, his magic has much to say.

The water is freezing and he casts a quick warming charm. He cannot see his competitors, but soon flashes of spell-light fills his peripheral. The task was to find the Giant Squid and capture the key it hid. Defense spells were allowed but nothing that was aimed to kill the Squid, only to maim or stun.

The murky water feels endless as he looks around, like looking into the starless sky, pitch black surrounds them, the shadows growing heavier with each move. The lit green balloon was like the moon, each of them honing in on it as if entranced. With his wand clasped tight, Hadrian sends a light downward, toward the teasing plants, whose ever growing arms are reaching up toward them. 

Fleur’s scream could’ve been cast with a sonorous charm with the way it echoes. Hadrian casts a cutting charm toward the Squid, allowing Fleur to slide loose and swim away.

They hadn’t been given much detail, Hadrian fumed, it was as if the trials were made to be failed. Or, he concedes, only meant to be won by someone intelligent and who’d prepared for something like this. He didn’t believe he neither smart nor prepared. Facing Voldemort as a first year had felt less daunting than this. Back then, he’d had Ron and Hermione at his side. Now, here he was submerged alone, in the deep murky waters. Not that they’d proven faultless friends, quite the opposite, and the hurt in his heart was nothing compared to all he’d gained.

Thinking of his sister, his mother, his new friends… His Theodore… He propels himself forward, the bright flash of spells allowing him to move forward with relative ease. He cannot hear anything, not until he misjudged the distance between him and the squid and ends up staring down at the large creature, the pale light of the grey sky reflecting above him.He looks around for the source of a loud hiss, but he can find nothing. Nearby, he can see Fleur wrapped in a large tentacle, her fair hair green as it floats around her. He casts a quick cutting curse, the Squid flinching back enough for her to swim away. Viktor uses the distraction to his advantage, swimming deeper to where a luminescent green balloon-esque bubble floats, invisibly tethered to the thrashing squid.

The attacks feels vicious to Hadrian, who knows the squid is only doing what he was bade to do, baring the contestants no real ill-will. Still, he keeps a close eye on the bubble, while swimming to where Cassius is fighting against the Lake itself. The tan boy shifts violently, trying to unwrap the green plants from his ankle. His wand slips from his grasp, his twisting growing harsher. The waters began to darker around him, shadows growing and pressing in like a leaden weight. Cassius gives one last flail to no avail. The plant then pulls him, the momentum growing as he’s dragged down to the pitch black bottom.

Hadrian kicks his legs quickly, tossing a blindly aimed bombarda back toward the bubble, propelling Viktor away from the green sphere and into the reach of grasping plants. He summons Cassius’ wand, knowing it was special for more than the usual reasons. Hadrian makes is closer to the bottom of lake only to watch Cassius’ head slam unforgivably into jutting rocks. Hadrian frowns, glancing upwards, but no stop is called, no help comes. Cassius’ bubblehead charm manages to hold and for this, Hadrian’s thankful. He transfigures a nearby rock into a rope, tying Cassius’ wrist to his, casting a feather-light charm. He drags his unconscious friend with him as he nears the Squid.

“Hey,” he calls, the word coming out in small bubble which floats toward the Squid before popping. The Squid’s creeping tentacle stops, waving with the current of the lake. Hadrian closes his eyes, raising his wand and focuses on the container he knows is waiting in Pansy’s hands for him to summon. The metal tin lands in his outstretched hand and he opens it with a flourish, showing the Squid with a kind smile. His book from Snape had allowed him to figure out the favorite food of Hogwart’s giant Squid. A rare magical fish whose colors are that of cotton candy and apparently is just as sweet. Dobby had helped him locate them late last night. Hadrian was so grateful he wasn’t alone any longer.

With each move closer to the bubble, he tosses the cotton candy fish to the Squid further away in the opposite direction. The Squid seems content with this and allows Hadrian closer to the sphere. Viktor has untangled himself from the grab-happy plants and Fleur emerges from around the Squid, a shallow cut on her pale cheek. Hadrian hears the hiss again just as his hand is absorbed into the glowing green orb. Fangs sink into his calf as the world around him grows fuzzy, his body propelled up and out of the water at disorienting speeds. He slams his eyes shut, pulling in fresh air harshly, as the gills that had formed fade until they’re gone.

He’d done it, he’d finished the First Task.

Notes:

Feel free to kudos, bookmark, and commenttt xoxo

Chapter 12: ask for happiness

Chapter 12 // ask for happiness

 

“We don’t even ask for happiness, just a little less pain.” -Charles Bukowski

 

    Dumbledore looks down at the Daily Prophet where the Hogwarts’ champions stand close together as they pose. The picture moves only to show small details, like Warrington throwing an arm over Potter’s shoulders and Krum’s proud eyes shifting to the key in his hand. The first task was the easiest to tamper with, Dumbledore thinks, and he’d cursed each of the four keys to respond to Potter’s magic. 

 

    His cherry red robes with shimmering silver glitter swish as he settles himself at his desk and chair, the only furniture he had beside his bed, and the daily issue of robes from an old friend still working in the ministry. He ignores the plate of lukewarm food and instead reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lemon drop, plopping it on his tongue with old familiarity. He swirls it around his teeth and then spits it out, right into the nervous face of Potter staring back at him from the news. He smiles jovially as the candy begins to sizzle through the enchanted paper.

 

---

 

    In a familiar turn of events, Hadrian winds up in the hospital wing, black veins spider-webbing up from his calf toward his upper thigh and groin, only growing with each passing moment. He can feel every millimeter as the cursed bite tingles as it moves along his leg. For now, it’s quiet in the room, only Theo and Neville sitting with him peacefully, his other friends having been forced to remain in the stands for the rest of the first task. 

 

    He huffs out a cold breath, snuggling further into the soft blanket Severus had given him before stalking down to the dungeons for a stronger pain-relieving potion and to bring back his personal copy of Poisoned Bites: Charming or Cursed , which sounded more like a slaggish muggle romance book about vampires, but Hadrian kept that thought to himself. His eyes are heavy, and it’s only growing harder to keep them open. Neville reads aloud from his bedtime story book that he’d never removed from his trunk as a first year, and Hadrian’s grip begins to slacken on Theo’s hand. He blinks, one-two-three more times before his breathing evens out in slumber. 

 

    Across from the trio of boys, is another trio, though older. Cassius’ head has been bandaged thoroughly and he snores loudly, rolling around on the tight fitted hospital bed. He was used to a much bigger bed (sized for three) and though Antonio was holding his hand, it wasn’t complete unless all three were connected. Crucis was stubbornly not looking at his bedridden consort. Instead his eyes flickered between Hadrian, Theo, and the stormy dark clouds outside. The weather matched his mood perfectly. 

 

“Crucis.” Antonio hums, giving his lover an admonishing look, as Crucis finally looks at Cassius, only for it to be a dark glare.

 

“How dare he?” Crucis responds finally, voice low and hissing. Antonio only raises a brow, shaking his head incredulously. “He knows-” Crucis stops himself, bottom lip caught between his sharp white teeth. 

 

“He knows what, love?” 

 

Crucis sets his feet onto the bed, pressing his toes into Cassius’ warm skin. “Well, he knows better than to allow himself to be hurt.” He pushes his hair from his shoulders, fingers digging into the matching band at his throat, the one Cassius wore as well. Antonio huffs a laugh and shakes his head fondly, pulling out his wand to extend the hospital bed. 

 

“Lay down and rest, you mangy beast. You didn’t last night.” He finally says, when Crucis only ignores him. It’s only when Antonio shifts Cassius' body  to allow Crucis to be between them, hand in Antonio’s and his head resting on their sleeping lovers’ chest, that Crucis finally begins to relax. Antonio sighs fondly, head tossed back as he shuts his eyes.

    Fleur and Viktor are brought to the hospital wing once they’ve completed the task and gotten their keys, and Viktor holds Cassius’ key tight in his hand, eyes hard. Hadrian and Cassius are awake now, talking across the room to each other. Hadrian smiles brightly at the Bulgarian champion, passing over a collection of sweets as Fleur settles lightly in a chair nearby. “This was a strange battle, yes?” Fleur asks, sucking on a blood pop. Viktor nods his head and his mouth twitches unhappily. The way he passes Cassius his key is nothing short of fiery, but Hadrian can’t guess why. 

 

    “That sums it up mildly,” Crucis chimes, mouth pursed like Petunia’s got when Harry did something she found particularly irritating. Hadrian allows his heavy head to drop back into his pillow, eyes heavy with sleep despite the cat nap he managed. 

 

---

    The night for him passes in a blur. They had moved toward the Great Hall as a mass of students, Fleur’s friends twittering around the thin blond like birds to a worm, Daphne tucked into the mass of girls like she was destined for it, a forbidden sapphic sight of lost fae in the halls of Hogwarts. Hadrian shakes his head with a laugh at his thoughts, tucked between Theo and Pansy, his hands held from either side, and he felt as if he was a king being led to a throne. Hmm maybe he hit his head instead of Cassius. Hadrian laughs to himself again, ignoring the amused if slightly amused look Theo gives him.

 

    “Hadrian?” Pansy calls quietly, nudging him with her shoulder when he only glances at her. “Are you okay?”

 

    He shrugs lazily, “My head feels fuzzy, but it’s alright. I’ll be able to get some rest soon.” Knock on wood , he sighs to himself. 

 

    His twin tightens her hand in his, “A warm meal and bed, yeah Haddy? Madame Pomfrey warned us that you’d be a tad loopy, dear.” 

 

    “Fuck yeah.”

    Fuck no. I should’ve knocked on some fricken wood. Hadrian groans, head dropping heavily onto his pillow as he throws himself into bed. Nearby, Theo is dressing in his pajamas and climbing in next to his paramour in moments. After what felt like the longest dinner since the other schools arrived, Hadrian wants nothing more than to sleep, but Theo has questions and it doesn’t feel fair to make him wait. Not when he had been there for Hadrian since they’d met, on that fateful day on the Quidditch pitch.

 

Hadrian sits up with a sudden lurch and with a moment of full clarity, realizes he forgot to meet Neville. He rubs his bleary eyes, noticing the frown Theo is giving him. “And where do you think you are going?” Theo’s voice is quiet but it makes Hadrian cower, he’s too sleepy to hide his reaction but Theo won’t judge him. He’d use it as a way to keep him from meeting Neville though. 

 

“Neville—“

 

“-Has already informed me that he will meet you tomorrow morning instead. Get back in bed, lovely.” Theo says softly, eyes sleepy and soft, coaxing Hadrian back down with a gentle touch. 

 

The morning comes too soon, and his head is pounding worse than a caged dragon. He groans and shuffles from the bed, blindly searching his way toward the Slytherin showers. The warm water helps, but even still, his vision wavers. 

 

He blinked groggily, and suddenly, he is on the Quidditch pitch, staring down Dumbledore, and surrounded by glowing green light. “Harry, come to me.”

 

And just as quick, he is back in the shower, and shivering despite the heat. 

 

Hadrian’s head drifts up, and as if he’s a robot, tugs on his clothing and marches to the Quidditch arena. 

   

   

Chapter 13: draw the line and cross it

Notes:

Hello my cherished reader,
I’m so sorry it’s always so long between updates but I have been at a wild place in life and so unsure of my writing but I’m hoping to fall back into this piece. I’ve had some excellent plot ideas and I look forward to continuing on. I don’t know about a schedule but I’ll aim for weekly for now. Thank you so much for your time and I hope you love it.

Part II

 

Chapter 13// draw the line and cross it

 

Hadrian settles back into the desk chair, hidden deep in the school library. He runs a hand over his face, shoulders slumped as he reads. It’s too late for any other student to be up and certainly none with access to the library so he isn’t careful nor quiet as he stands and scans the shelves. He holds his lantern up high, squinting unnecessarily. 

 

Trauma . 

 

He sighs, dropping his head and massages his temples to ward of the mounting headache. He’s so tired, so wary, but the night was young, hardly midnight and he couldn’t go to bed yet. Not after this morning in the shower. He snatches the book from the shelf and settles back into his seat quickly. 

 

Another hour passes. Another dead end. He slams his fist into the table, exhaling sharply and his features twist into disgust. It was like a damn maze, with death awaiting him at the end, and he just kept turning, and turning, and turning.

 

He drops his head into his hands and a soft sob leaves his mouth. He was feeling so much, and he’d avoided his sister and friends and Theo all day, and he wished for them now more than ever. Dumbledore was in his mind. 

 

“Not my own.” He whispers, but I will be. 

 

He groans in annoyance, wipes the tears from his eyes, only to gasp at the obsidian eyes watching him from across the aisle. “Professor!” 

 

Snape raises a thin brow, settling across from him at the table and for a moment Hadrian can picture a young Severus, merely a child in time, during his own days attending Hogwarts. As quick as the vision hits, it’s gone, but Hadrian smiles abit all the same. No, everything wasn’t alright but he wasn’t alone anymore. 

 

“Is there a reason you did not attend your classes today?” Severus finally asks him, his eyes intent on the divination books spread across the table. 

 

“Nope.” The answer leaves his mouth before he has a chance to think it through and he grimaces. Snape, for his part, seems forgiving in the late night and only waits, watching the books. 

 

“I cannot tell if I am…” Hadrian starts, fingers tracing the wood grain of the table endlessly. “Am I going mad, Professor?”

 

Perhaps Severus doesn’t mean to laugh, but to Hadrian, it’s the best thing he could’ve done. The quiet startled snort is all it takes to bring Hadrian’s shoulders down from his ears, and he manages a smile at the dower man. “Hadrian, if you are mad… Well God help us all, child, because I think you are quite sound of mind. There are others I do not have such confidence in.” Severus intones the last part so seriously that Hadrian chuckles himself and finally allows himself to close the book resting in front of him. “Everyone struggles and everyone suffers, Hadrian. We all survive. We must.” 

 

Theo is still awake when Hadrian creeps into their dormitory and his cheeks flush with guilt. Theo’s mouth is firm and his eyes alight with annoyance as he stares down his partner. “I was not under the impression that we snuck around, Hadrian. If… if you are not happy as my…”

 

Hadrian squints and his headache begins to throb with renewed vigor. Sneaking . “Hm that is what I do, isn’t it. You're pureblood, Theodore.  So yes, what are we, because I haven’t received any courting offer?” He moves toward his bed and turns away from Theo, kicking off his shoes and ripping his tie off with particular vengeance. 

 

“You are nothing if you want to play these games!” Theo hisses, flicking his eyes around at the other drawn bed curtains. Luckily, no other boys seemed awake. 

 

“Games?” Hadrian scoffs. His heart pounds in fear even as his mouth twists angrily. “I am not playing games, Theodore.” He stands, crossing his arms, and shoves his shoes back on. “I don’t even have time for games.” He snatches his pillow up and without a backward glance, goes to find somewhere to sleep. 

 

He feels like an ass. It’s been over a week since Theo had even looked at him and Hadrian was near inconsolable even if he was working very hard to hide it. Pansy was taking the loss of Hadrian’s right hand man with remarkable ease. “It’s a lover’s tiff, Parkinson. Buck up and he shall come crawling back.” Tracey smirks and Hadrian turns back to his charms essay, even more morose. 

 

He won’t come crawling back when I am in the wrong, Hadrian tells himself over and over, but still another week passes. He keeps himself busy, with the Yule ball coming, he’d been taking dancing lessons from each of the girls. Even Blaise and Neville tried to help him, but his feet tripped and slid without his control. 

 

“You are a bird in the air and a troll on the ground, Hadrian.” Blaise laughs, and even Neville is smiling at the honesty in that. 

 

“I am a date-less troll,” Hadrian groans, dropping his head into his hands. 

 

“We-umm, we wanted to give you your privacy but honestly, Haddy, what’s going on? I thought you two were to begin courting soon. Or already, if I’m honest.” Neville settles onto the ground beside his friend, patting his back softly. Hadrian lets himself be lulled by the relaxing thrum until he looks into the kind blue eyes of his closest friend. 

 

“I messed up. He didn’t deserve how I treated him and when he… I was mean. I was tired and I had a headache and I lashed out. It’s not an excuse, but…” Hadrian sniffles abit and hides his flushed cheeks in his hands. I am nothing, Hadrian wants to sob. He’s too good for me and he must see it. The Chosen One. 

 

“I’m sure I’ve said much worse to him in our years of friendship, go apologize Parkinson. The only forgiveness we must want, is the forgiveness we earn.” Blaise raises his hands and offers a polite shrug. “Plus, he should never force himself on you. Sex that isn’t consensual is…”

 

“What? I didn’t— Theo and I aren’t having sex! I’m not even sure we are friends!” Hadrian bursts out. “It’s been kinda romantic for awhile and he’s so different with you than me and he hasn’t initiated a courtship!” Hadrian groans, tossing his head back. Blaise chuckles but offers an apology all the same.  

 

“Ask him to the ball.” A sweet voice offers from the doorway. Dreamy blue eyes peek in and the Ravenclaw Lovegood strides into the room on almost floating steps. “Use that Gryffindor courage, Hadrian.” 

 

Hadrian stays long enough to watch her settle beside Neville with a friendly smile and then he’s standing and rushing toward his room. He rips the marauders map from his trunk and in moments he is scanning for Theo’s name everywhere. He finally spots him nearby the lake with another person, with a French name Hadrian doesn’t recognize as a Hogwarts student. His heartbeat quickens and he shoves the map into his pocket as he races through the castle like flames are licking at his heels. 

 

He is panting and coated in sweat when the lake comes into view. He takes hardly a second to straighten his tie and neaten his hair before stumbling down the hill to Theo and a tall girl in a blue uniform, Adrienne if the map was to be believed (and when was it not?). 

 

He trips to a stop a few feet from them, blinking owlish eyes as he watches the girl throw her head back in laughter. Theo has a shy smile, one Hadrian selfishly thought was only for him, and he says something quietly back to her which makes her laugh again.

 

With his heart bursting, Hadrian stumbles the last few feet, eyes intent on Theodore. Adrienne flashes him a startled but friendly smile, her hazel eyes flashing brightly in the sun. 

 

“Heir Nott.” Hadrian greets, his tongue feels like sandpaper and he wants to sink into the black lake until he vanishes into the dark depths. Anything is better than the burning, twisting jealousy. “I was hoping to speak with you.” 

 

Theo raises a neat brow, face stoney as he stares. “Oh?” Nearly a minute passes before Hadrian realizes Theo isn’t going to say or ask anything more, and he swallows heavily. The girl has not left, nor said a word, and by now his cheeks feel scarlet.

 

“About the Yule Ball.” Something changes in Theo’s face but Hadrian is too stressed to guess, and he begins to rock back n forth, his fingers twisting. 

 

“What a coincidence, we were just speaking of the Yule Ball.” Hadrian startles as the girl speaks finally, her polite smile unchanged. “Would you like to join us?”

 

He squints his so very green eyes against the sun and sighs softly. He was the intruder here and now, and it weighs heavy as he nods and settles down beside them. He clears his throat and looks at her, hoping his nerves aren’t visible. “So Yule, huh?”

 

“My name is Adrienne Dupont, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Heir Parkinson.” He offers her hand and he presses it to his forehead shyly. He often confused proper greetings and it left him stumbling the rest of a conversation. 

 

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Dupont.” 

 

“Oh please, call me Adrienne.” She smiles brightly, her eyes drifting toward his Theo. 

 

Hadrian turns away from her completely, offering Theodore his full focus. He wants to ask so bad, but there is no warmth still. Theo doesn’t even look mad. He looks apathetic really. Hadrian furrows his brow and frowns. 

 

Without another word, and no look back, Hadrian storms away from the Black Lake, and his hands aren’t shaking anymore. 

Chapter 14: dwell on dreams

Summary:

Hadrian awakens.

7.23.25 Chapter 14 and 15 rewritten and edited

Notes:

Hello my darling readers,

I am so humbled by the comments and 78000 hits *insert sobbing! But I really hate writing the romance between 14 year olds as an adult so we are going to see some time skips and aging soon so bare with me as we work towards the Future for Hadrian and Theo and their families. Thank you so much for 5 years of following me through my wildlife just to catch up on my silly stories. You'll never know how much it all means to me.

-Opal, a Ghost

Chapter 14// dwell on dreams

 

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.” -Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone

 

Harry James Potter. Hadrian Alnilam Parkinson. Freak in the Cupboard under the stairs. The Boy who Lived. Nothing made sense anymore. All the memories were blending together as they were pulled from his head and he cared no more. 

 

---

 

Albus Dumbledore had walked with confidence toward Wool’s Orphanage, expecting a normal wizarding child. While the story is not wildly known now, it is one he thinks of often. Especially when he looks into the eyes of Harry Potter. Even knowingly, he had failed the child. Even accepting, and asking, for his strict hand in raising, the eyes that stared back at him… Well, they haunted him. 

 

Even so, it had taken a lot of planning from in his cell to kidnap Hadrian, and even more to be out to meet the unconscious boy. By morning, it would be on the front page of the Daily Prophet. The few friends he had were wary of helping him. Not without good reason, the consequence if caught helping him would most likely be life in Azkaban. Not many were still loyal to him, to the light, but Mad-Eye coming back into the fold was nothing short of a miracle. The only reason he could stand here in this moment, aging hands pressed in some semblance of prayer, eyes shadowed. He could only feel grateful as he shed his shackles and flooed polyjuiced from the Ministry. He shook like a dog after a long nap and felt refreshed . Oh, he felt young again, the fresh air and the hint of mischief sparking his spine. A Commander to War. 

 

It takes a while to make sure his magic will be lost in the many apparitions, but soon he stands in Mould-on-the-Wold. Before him stands his childhood home, and he breathes, choked up; flooded by memories of the tragedy that befell his lovely sister and father, before Aberforth’s resentment, before Gellert . His throat is tight as he walks up, but the door is cracked and voices can be heard from within. 

 

“Ahhh, Severus, my boy, it is so good to see you.” Dumbledore turns his attention to Moody, “My oldest friend, I am glad to see you are well. What a joyous gathering today. Finally, things will fall back where they must be. I am glad to see Harry looking so well, Severus.”

 

He settles himself on the old couch, dust fluttering into the air only to be vanished quickly with a spell. He settles his hands over his stomach, a pleasant smile twisting his lips into something mirroring pleasure. “Please, leave him on the couch and fetch some tea, dear boy.” 

 

Severus inclines his head, saying nothing. He makes his way to the kitchen as quickly as possible, using the moment to catch his breath, waving his wand to summon the warmed kettle and cups. His gaze goes unsteady as he stares into the fine bone china. The glasses clink in his shuddering grasp. Severus has withstood the worst torture imaginable while being inducted into the Dark Lord’s ranks, and then unimaginable horror to earn his place in the inner circle, and yet… Never had his hands trembled just so to pour a simple cup of tea. Albus isn’t paying attention to him, instead his greedy eyes stare down the prone Hadrian. 

 

“Was it difficult to get him?” The headmaster asks as if commenting on the weather and not the drugged kidnapping of the Wizarding World’s Golden Child. Severus has to swallow to hold his bile down. It’s a near thing. He presses his hands into the long lengths of his robe, keeping his wand twisting in his chilled fingertips. 

 

“No,” Severus whispers, “He came with me.” He will kill himself, one day, for the path he has taken. Albus only nods unsurprised and sips his tea, dropping in his lemon drop like a sugar cube, stirring slowly. “What are your plans, Albus?” Perhaps he could create a potion form of an obliviation that can take everything from his mind, wash him clean like the muggle bleach his mother had tried to purify him with. He absently presses his hand to his throat, remembering the burning .  

 

“All in due time. I cannot risk someone trying to stop us now, Severus, my boy. We are so nearly there to save them. We will stop Tom. Harry will save us.” The vomit makes it to his teeth before he can swallow, and the hasty sip of tea only turns his stomach more. His mother had read Charlotte’s Web to him as a child and now, here was Hadrian, a mere baby in Wizarding years.The Pig for Slaughter. 

 

Some Pig. Some Pig indeed.

 

The light is so bright, he tries to pull the blanket over his face, but the material is foreign, not the soft velvet of his school comforter. His breathing quickens, as everything feels wrong. He cracks open his eyes, seeing the light walls of a cottage, stained with years of dirt and disrepair. He cannot hear anything which soothes him little, but enough that he tries to sit up. He falls backward instantly, his arms collapsing from his weight. What happened?

 

He closes his eyes, fighting to stay awake and focus. The last thing he can remember is… the dream in the shower, Theo at the lake… Hadrian had run toward the castle, toward Snape. He’d knocked and then… Nothing.

 

Snape. Fucking weasel little traitorous rat! Hadrian seethes, and wishes for Theodore, or Pansy, or his Mom. Anyone. 

 

But he knows who is waiting for him. Why is he awake now? He cannot cast many wandless spells yet, but a nearly silently whispered Tempus and his jaw is on his chest with the shock. His hand stretches out in front of him as if he can touch the much later date. By the time he has woken up, 4 weeks have passed since he was even taken and he has lost any weight he ever gained, hopefully not more. His eyes water and he bites his lip. 4 weeks? How is that possible?

 

It is sheer spite that allows him to stand, and continue to stand even as his vision blackens and he sways. He places one foot in front of the other until he reaches the end of a hall, with a staircase down. Using the wall as a crutch, he stumbles to the bottom floor, eyes peeled for any other sign of life. He finds no one and amuses himself by checking everywhere for an escape, but any attempt to touch a window or door has him instantly shocked by invisible electricity. With every failed exit, his left hand begins to tremor, and quiver, and shake until he’s sure it won’t ever stop. He gives up only after trying every possible exit.

 

It won’t ever get the chance to stop shaking/trembling/quivering because he will check every window and every door, every day.  

 

It’s a long week that passes, the hunger gnawing at him… until the rat he catches meets its end between his teeth. His hair grows more matted, his hands each tremor as he holds himself tight, rocking and rocking, finding the only comfort he can. He hums half-remembered songs and whispers to his family, in case they might be listening.

 

There is a lone chair in the room he awoke in, fabric ripped and muddy brown with age, but still comfortable as he curls up to watch the setting sun. As the sky fades into shifting orange and blue, the front door swings open with a screech. 

 

“--onder because I haven’t left this long before. I meant to ask--”

 

“-I would’ve, but I wasn’t aware. Maybe-”

 

“You go, I will send this letter off.” Hadrian hears Albus order. He cannot hear any steps, but in a moment, a shadow stands at his door. Severus looks shocked when he walks in to see furious green eyes watching him. 

 

“ You did this! ” Hadrian whisper-hisses, nearly parseltongue with his fury. Snape takes a step back, then seems to shake himself and pushes into the room with a desperate look in his obsidian eyes. 

 

“Hadrian, you’re awake. Good, I was not sure I would be able to get a potion to override a spell of this sort, but of course…” Severus ends in a mumble, simply staring. Hadrian glares right back, not giving one single fuck. 5 weeks. Theo probably went to Yule with that French girl, and Pansy probably cried and then the girls moved on... His bottom lip wobbles traitorously and he flops back into his chair with a hard slump. 

 

He can barely find the strength to stand, and he can feel dark, helpless eyes watching him. It fills him with hatred. Do not pity me! He screams in his mind, desperately wishing for the strength to stand. You did this to me! He was going to be free, and now he was caged. Severus frowns as if he can hear him. 

 

“Do not say a word, if you hear Albus, fake asleep! Do not move, and do not breathe quickly. You must stay calm and silent or you will not wake up again until he needs you.” Severus whispers. “There is a plan-I cannot say much now, but this will not continue Hadrian. You will be back with your family soon, I swear on my magic.”

 

Hadrian fights with himself, but Snape is steady, though he seemed to have aged years in meer weeks, his sallow skin nearly translucent, mouth twisted with shame. “Needs me for what?” The boy finally asks.

 

Severus curls a warm hand over his shoulder, “To die at the opportune moment.”

 

He decided then and there, to give up. To not fight one bit. There was no fucking point anymore. He hopes Snape can see the deadness swelling up inside him. 

 

Based on the devastation in those endless eyes, Hadrian would say yes, he could see it. It feels him with a scrap of sick satifaction before that too is swept away into the nothingness forming inside him. He feels unmade, hollowed out; paraded as a sacrifical lamb who knelt for it’s Master, only to meet his blade.

Perhaps it’s foolish and starving himself only works for so long, when his lashes flutter with exhaustion and his heart beats a fluttery tune in his chest, the food is spelled into his stomach anyways. With every bite of food they bring to his starving body, he sinks further into the realm of his mind to escape the filthy walls of his prison. He chokes on every bite, bedside scourgified a dozen times when he cannot hold down the needed nutrients. He sobs, so quietly, and then so loud the Earth feels as if it’s crumbling around him, but only when he knows the house is empty. 

 

This was the only way Dumbledore could guarantee his ending. It takes him a few minutes to roll comfortably-ish on his side, to stare out the window of his gilded cage. 6 and a half weeks were done, and he couldn't help but wonder when it would all be over. 

Chapter 15: -softly, with hands as gentle as rain

Summary:

More sorrow, sorry not sorry

Notes:

Hello dear readers,
I hope you are all well, here is the next chapter. You guys had some great questions after the last chapter and I just wanted to point out, thank you for knowing my story better than me lol I did forget about the minister and his BS but well, quick solve because my direction for the story changed. I started this in 2017, and now at 23, I have different life views. Like I said I want to age of the characters and I have an idea of where this is all going now. I hope you'll all stick with me as we move towards the end together. Someone pointed out that Hadrian was examined in a room full of people, but Poppy wasn't the main nurse for Hadrian and wizards don't have a modern view of psychology. They all loved him and no when are things ever easy for him? Dumbledore made some big moves and he isn't gonna be easier to swallow next chapter but we will have some good time skips and catch up with some of our lovely characters. Hopefully Hadrian and Theo will back together soon.

Chapter 15// -softly, with hands as gentle as rain

 

“-softly, with hands as gently as rain, I shall strangle him.”

-Angela Carter

THE DAILY PROPHET 

DUMBLEDORE ESCAPES? Potter MISSING? Voldemort Returns?

Written by Rita Skeeter

 

Dear Faithful Readers, Our Most infamous Ex-Headmaster has been removed from the Ministry with the aid of his old friend, Mad-Eye Moody, and the Potion’s Master Severus Snape, whom you may recall from the First War. He was a faithful follower of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named found innocent under the recommendation of Albus Dumbledore. Heir Hadrian Parkinson, formally known as Harry Potter, was revealed to have gone missing at the same time, quite suspiciously, and was last seen dashing toward the Slytherin Head of House’s Office, Mr. Severus Snape. 

 

This is, of course, speculation, as our young Hero was only spotted going in, and never coming out. While his current whereabouts are unknown, it is reasonable to believe that the former Headmaster could have been involved in the disappearance of the boy, even from a distance. Dear Reader, how long have we been in the dark about the true intentions of those with power who are teaching and guiding our children? How did a Dark Lord’s Most Trusted, become a teacher at the very school where his Master’s enemy will learn? How long have we been fooled into compliance? What are we doing to find him?

 

Amongst these terrible rumors and fears, there is talk of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’s followers growing restless, with a growing number of suspicious attacks around Dumbeldore’s hometown of Mould-on-the-Wold occurring with increasing frequency. Both Magic-Folk and Muggle have been killed, untraceable masked faces running rampant. 

 

Where is our Hero? 

Triwizard Tournament Postponed, Parents Terrified for Students Safety

Written by Rita Skeeter

 

In an unprecedented turn of events, in a show of solidarity with their missing competitor, the Triwizard students chosen have decided to step down altogether, and forfeit their right to win. While famous for its confusing and contradictory rules, it turns out our Hero did NOT have to compete as our Minister told him. The information needed to be updated and was untrue, and while we grieve for our Missing Heir, our elder Competitors have wasted no time in reaching out to the public for their help. Fleur Delacour is the first to stand and leave us, although Beauxbaton has promised to continue offering their help in finding the wayward student. Next Hogwart’s own Champion, Cassius Warrington made a big show of defending Parkinson, claiming “If he isn’t here safe and sound, none of us deserve to be. I will not rest until my Fiance’s cousin is returned home to his family.” Our handsome Bulgarian Seeker stepped down, promising to donate 1000 galleons of his personal money to anyone who can offer information leading to the rescue of Hadrian. If you have seen Hadrian Parkinson, please Owl your local Auror Authority or any of the following names…

Students Pulling out of HOGWARTS in an Unprecedented Rate

Written by: Lutheran Cochran 

 

After the cancelation of the Yule Ball and the subsequent ending of the Triwizard Tournament, permanently this time, parents have begun to remove their children from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The waiting list is famous, with many children continuing the tradition of attending the school that their families have attended for generations, and for some families since the opening of the school…

 

---

 

  Draco Malfoy tosses down the final newspaper article with a disgusted grimace, running a hand over his neat hair. His father glances at him only a moment before murmuring with Narcissa, but Draco can still hear clearly. “Severus reports that the boy is very ill, and will not survive until adulthood. We can only hope our plans do not require that timeline.”

 

His mother has the cruelest look on her face he’d ever seen, and her voice is equally as vitriolic. “He would be healing wonderfully if it wasn’t for Severus . He should have come to us, I have no sympathy for that dirty roach.” Draco blinks in surprise but sips his tea silently all the same. “If only the Minister had not bold face lied to us all… I simply trusted… But of course, there was a way out. Magic is Might.”

 

Draco quietly rises from his seat and kisses both of his parents on the cheek. The walk to the Owlery is calm in the setting sun. He pulls his cloak tighter around him as he steps through the door, soft hoots greeting his ears. There is a small desk in the corner with paper and a quill and he wastes no time jotting down a quick letter to Theo, desperately praying it will make it to him before it’s too late. 

 

---

 

The days blur for Hadrian, but he scratches a line each morning he wakes up on the wall behind his bed. Dumbledore isn’t there in the daytime, but each time he wakes up with his stomach half-full, he knows he’s come to check on him. He forces himself to the toilet and gags himself until bile spills into the toilet, and other than scraping pain, he feels satisfaction. I will be nothing of what you want, Dumbledore. I will die first. Let Voldemort come. 

 

Severus comes on the 7th day of isolation, and Hadrian is so irritated he just spits into his sallow face. Severus for his part, takes it like a champ and simply wipes his face on his trailing robe, and tosses a book onto the bedcover. It’s one of the 4th year Potion’s books and he wants to rip it up viciously. He doesn’t. It has been boring in the room, but his suffering at the Dursleys had well prepared him. This was like a hotel compared to his old house. 

 

“Have you been eating?” 

 

“I hope the house hasn’t been too chilly.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Nothing but silence from Hadrian this visit, and the next, and the next, and the next. Until 5 more days has passed and Severus opens the door with curious green eyes watching him. He’d been away from his family and Theo for nearly 12 weeks now.  The boy is skeletal, limbs bone thin and the skin stretching tight across the meatless flesh like it’ll tear at any moment through with too strong a movement, but still he stands strong. He grabs the last book he’d left the boy and replaces it with a new one, a treacle tart sitting pristinely on top. “Be prepare, Hadrian. Tonight is the night, the moon will be bright.”

 

Hadrian takes one whiff of the food and his fingers twitch. Still, he doesn't speak. Severus is unnerved, as always when he sees him, the hair rising across his arms and neck until he wants to scratch it off. Hadrian in school was always moving, fingers popping and legs bouncing, mouth moving. This boy in front of him was just a child, but his eyes held the horrors of a man. 

 

“Why?”

 

Severus’ head shoots up when he hears the raspy voice, avada eyes staring at him with more loathing than he ever experienced in his life. He flounders for an answer other than the obvious, “I have mentioned a plan, Hadr-”... but everything is lacking, the truth is weak. 

 

“I trusted you.” Hadrian spits and Severus nearly vomits all over the floral quilt the boy sits upon. 

 

They only hear footsteps at the last second and it’s too late, Dumbledore swings open the door and his wand is out quicker than Hadrian thought possible. A whispered word and his eyes flutter shut. Severus catches the boy as he falls limp to the floor and he wants to sob at the situation he has put himself in. It’s only because he is focused on Hadrian that he doesn’t think about the fact his back is to his enemy, but now it’s too late for him too and he slumps over the green-eyed boy in his arms. Luckily, Snape would’ve thought to himself, he was unneeded for tonight's escapade. 

 

---

 

Theo stares out at the vast land encompassing the Zabini estate, his dear friend nearby listlessly playing keys on his piano, mouth puckered in thought. Theo’s wand spins in his hand like a dancer’s baton, the Point Me leading nowhere but everywhere. At least it isn’t still, he tells himself.  

 

Yvonne and Pansy were staying here as well, safe as long as they were enclosed away from any more of Dumbledore’s loyal followers. Sometimes Pansy would join Blaise with her cello, nimble hands plucking out a song that drew tears to his eyes every time. They all missed him. Hadrian.  

 

Tutors came and left, Daphne and Tracy, with two red-headed menaces came to stay for a while before they too left for home. Until it had been a 3 months since he’d seen his dearest. He sighed, ruffling the feathers of Hedwig, who sat sad and slumped on his shoulder. She’d taken to roaming the skies, coming back from longer and longer trips, until she’d settled with Theo, and wouldn’t leave his side, sorrowful cries echoing out into the night sky. 

 

All they had was a slimming hope and the spinning of a Point Me . 

Until the tap, tap, tap on the library window, with a Malfoy owl carrying a hastily written letter.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! Get ready for a full next chapter!

Notes:

Hope you enjoy xx

Cassius Warrington Pinterest Board : https://www.pinterest.com/aghostopal/aes-cassius-his-boys/

Hadrian Pinterest Board : https://www.pinterest.com/aghostopal/aes-the-world-of-magic/harry-james-potter/

Severus Snape Pinterest Board : https://www.pinterest.com/aghostopal/aes-the-world-of-magic/severus-snape/

Theodore Nott Pinterest Board : https://www.pinterest.com/aghostopal/aes-the-world-of-magic/theodore-nott/