OKay, this started as a one-shot I wrote on a 14 hour plane trip two years ago Christmas, then I fell in love with the universe and head-cannons I had created for it. I'm using it as an exercise in writing styles...

The brown haired boy held out a dented and dull tin cup, saying beseechingly "Please? Me Mum is sick with the wasting disease, and me baby sis is grizzling for lack of milk. Help a troubled family out?" The boys' slight statue, along with his ratted clothing and lower-class accent obviously worked in his favour, for while the cup wasn't full of coins, it did have quite a few in a thin layer on the bottom. As a passer-by dropped another coin in, the boy smiled, blindingly bright, " 'ank ye! Merlin will surely bless ye for yer kindness."

The next thing the boy knew though, a firm, yet not harsh, hand gripped him by the back of the neck, and pulled him away from the main through-fare of the small hamlet, and into one of the quieter, less traveled alleyways. In spite of being dragged like a kitten, the boy managed to keep a hold of his cup, and the coins inside of it. "'ey! Wha ya doing wi' me? Gerrof me!"

The man - for even the beggar boy boy could tell it was a man by the voice and size of the hand - gently shook the boy, before setting him down with one hand on the boys' shoulder as if to keep him from running away. "What is a boy with such power as yours doing begging on the streets?" he asked.

Sullenly, the boy looked down at the ground, and refused to reply.

The man sighed, almost as if regretting his hasty action. Running a hand through his hair - which was ember black, and long - worn as only an heir or lord of a noble house would be allowed to wear. He spoke, almost to himself. "Of course a street rat wouldn't tell me. Perhaps he doesn't even know how powerful he is..."

The boy interrupted, emerald green eyes flashing, and looking right into to the eyes of the man. "I am no street rat!" however, once that was out, the boy clapped a hand over his mouth, and turned as if to escape.

The man was too quick for the boy, and took ahold of both of the boys' shoulders. "Hmm? It would appear you aren't, after all. Whose line are you from, and why are you on the streets, boy?"

Once more, the boy refused to answer.

The man took an even tighter grip on the boys' shoulders. "Fine. If you will not speak, then you and I shall pay a trip to my stash of veritserum."

"No!" exclaimed the boy, squirming in an effort to get free. "You can't! It is against the decree of Merlin."

The man smirked. "At any rate, it seems as if you have no thought to my name. I am Salazar Slytherin, little one, and apprentice of Merlin. His decrees' mean nothing to me, for he has allowed me free reign."

The boy went limp, sighing in defeat. He know of Slytherin by name - his mother had warned him to avoid Slytherin and those of like powers, for they would surely want to claim his for their own, such as just happened. "Alright. I will tell you," he paused. "If you will take in my mother and sister."

Slytherin laughed. Not the mean, cruel laugh of one who is going to deny a request, but rather a surprisingly kind one. "So, the mother and sister were not just tales? Fine, then. Will you tell me your name?" he finished, letting go of the boy.

The boy nodded. "Yes, I will." with an odd twist of his wrist, the boys' appearance changed. Not much, but enough. His hair changed to a messy mop of black, and he grew slightly taller, while his features aged a bit. Not much, only by a few years, but enough to make it obvious the boy was closer to an adult than Slytherin originally thought. "I am Hadrian Potter."

Slytherin blinked. Then blinked again. Yes, the boy definitely had the look of a Potter - offshoot brand of Gryffindor that they were - but... "Surely not. The last Potter and his family were decimated over sixteen years ago. The line is, sadly, extinct. You should know better than to joke wit..." It then sunk in, what the boy had done, and Slytherin lost the rest of his dignity. "You... You did wandless magic?"

Hadrian shrugged. "Yes, of course. We can barely afford food, much less a wand." he then sighed. All the tales said Slytherin was intelligent. "My mother was out at the time, running errands, and she had taken me along with her. As she tells it, she saw the plume of smoke rising in the distance, and knew what had happened, so she turned and ran." Hadrian then sighed. "But nobody would dare the wrath of whomever attacked our family, and nobody much wanted to support a grieving widow with a babe in arms."

Slytherin chose to focus on one thing, the boys' lineage. After all, he already knew the boy was powerful. "Well, then, where does your sister come into the story?"

Rolling his eyes, Hadrian frowned. Was the great-and-powerful Salazar Slytherin, apprentice to Merlin Emmrys, really so... naive? "Mother only had one thing to support her and I, and..." here, he stopped for a moment. He hadn't quite understood it when his mother became pregnant, but now he did. "...protection is never absolute. Rosa is only two, and the only thing we share is mother and our eyes, but she is my sister." He ended on a fierce note, glaring at Slytherin.

Gaping, Slytherin spoke. "The Lady Evans-Potter had to sell her body? Why didn't she..."

"Why didn't she come to Merlin?" Hadrian laughed bitterly. "How do we know Merlin didn't have a hand in what happened? We can trust no one." he then added, mockingly, "Mi'Lord." Hadrian then looked up at the sky with a muttered oath, before turning back to Slytherin. "It is getting late, and mother will be worried. Do you finally believe me?"

Slytherin thought, for all of a minute. It was such a well-detailed tale, and so different from any of the rumours, or even from the other boys who claimed to be the Potter heir - and this boy had the magic to back up his tale of coming from one of the most powerful bloodlines. "Yes, I believe you. Lead the way, and we'll fetch your family before relocating to my manor."

Hadrian started to turn to leave, before turning back and eyeing Slytherin. "Lord Slytherin," he said, for once properly addressing the man, "Will you swear on your magic that no harm shall befall my mother and sister, that they shall be well-cared for and looked after, that you shall not press suit towards my mother?"

Slytherin took out his wand, and cast a small lumos on the tip, before he replied solemnly, "I do swear, on my magic and my life that the terms set by Hadrian Potter shall be fulfilled."

Hadrian nodded briskly, in thanks, and turned to go once more, but whipped back to glare at Slytherin as he burst out laughing. "What is it?" he exclaimed, rather harshly.

Slytherin actually collapsed to the floor at that point. Weakly waving a hand at Hadrian, he explained as best as he could through his laughing fit. "S...sorry! Just struck me as funny, the last term."

It was Hadrians' turn to blink. Had the wizard gone mad? On the floor, laughing, it was if ages had been taken away from him. He looked much closer to Hadrians' age than Hadrian had originally thought. However, he replied coldly, "How is it funny? My mother doesn't need another bastard of a wizard to tell her what to do."

Slytherin immediately sobered, standing up and brushing dust off his robes. "Ahem. Yes, I apologize. However, I thought everyone knew where my..." he paused, before delicately adding, with an emphasis, "...preferences..." then he continued in a normal tone."...lay. Your mother has more to worry about from Merlin..." here, Slytherin showed his age once more. "...and he is ollldd. Much too old for that." he shook his head. "Anyways, I do believe I am closer to your age than your mothers'. I am only twenty-one, after all."

Hadrian didn't reply, opting instead to turn on his heel, and head for home. His only comment, tossed over his shoulder, was "Keep up!"