Chapter 3 – Return to Peverell Mansion
Hadrian winced as he used his left hand to catch himself after he was thrown back from a particularly nasty curse. A large bruise encircled his wrist from where the Dark Lord had used a rather unwarranted amount of force to grip his unresisting arm in his examination of the ring.
It was just his luck that the following day they were practicing dueling in their Defense class, and Hadrian's assigned partner had to be none other than Draco Malfoy. Apparently, after the unqualified students had left the aptitude testing, the Dark Lord decided to teach the new 'elite' students some darker and more advanced spells for their first class. And since dark magic was allowed in Defense, so long as it didn't permanently maim or kill the opponent, Hadrian had now become Draco's practice dummy.
Hadrian felt stabbing pains throughout his body from the spell's effects. As he pushed himself back to his feet, the pain intensified at the movement. The pain, unfortunately, didn't dull when he stood still, but it didn't increase either. He didn't recognize the incantation that Draco had used, but he was sure it had to be similar to a torture curse.
Draco laughed when he saw the grimace flash across his face. "How do you like that, Peirce? A bit too much for you? You should be honored. It's the first spell that the Dark Lord taught me."
"Very impressive," Hadrian replied, his voice coming out a bit strained as he reached down to pick up his dropped wand. He gritted his teeth at the pain that didn't stop growing until he was once again standing still. "So, how about the counter curse now? We should get back practicing before the professor comes over."
Draco's haughty expression faltered a little at his request. Hadrian immediately noticed his change in attitude and wanted to curse his terrible luck.
"You do know the counter, right?" Hadrian asked.
"Of course, I know the counter!" Draco snapped at him. He raised his wand and muttered an incantation that Hadrian was sure didn't sound correct in its wording. He raised an arm experimentally and was proven correct in his theory when the stabbing pains only increased.
Hadrian held back a sigh of irritation. "Malfoy—"
"Shut up, Peirce! Your annoying voice is distracting me." Draco's unsteady hand and shifting eyes were enough for anyone to call his bluff. If Hadrian wasn't so irritated at Draco, he would be disappointed at the revealing display. Being the heir of the family that he so frequently bragged about, he was supposed to be a master at using neutral masks, but this was underwhelming.
Apparently, their conversation attracted the attention of the nearby dueling pairs because another student decided to interrupt. "Shows what you can do Malfoy," the red-haired Gryffindor, known as Ron Weasley, said. "Not so elite now are you?"
"At least I got into the elite group, Weasley," Draco shot back, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be helping his dueling partner. "I bet you're so proud of your magical ability, considering it was barely higher than Longbottom's."
Ron's face colored red in anger as he stomped up to the proud Slytherin. "That test was rigged, and you know it! The only people who can get in are those whose families curry favor with the Dark Lord. I bet you feel so proud that your dad has to get everything for you."
"At least my dad can do something for me." Draco stared down the red-faced Weasley, his own temper getting the better of him. "Where's yours by the way? On the run with Dumbledore and the light rebels? Is that why you're so angry? Because your father abandoned you for a lost cause?"
Ron's faced twisted into an angry sneer as he suddenly lifted his wand and shot a curse at Draco. Having expected it, Draco easily blocked the oncoming spell with a shield before firing one back. The two began exchanging spells in a heated duel, the spells getting darker and darker as they continued. The dark nature of Ron's spells was a bit surprising to everyone who was watching, considering how often he spewed propaganda for light magic.
Hadrian wanted to groan at his misfortune but, in the next moment, a stray spell spun in his direction. Hadrian quickly raised his wand to summon a shield but the sharp pains in his body made the movement shaky, and all that he could summon was a half-formed barrier at best.
An overpowered and uncontrolled spell hit his weakened shield and shattered it. Hadrian was thrown back from the impact. His movements were too clumsy to catch himself this time, so all he could do was roll with the momentum to try to break his fall. By the time he stopped, his body felt like it was being continuously stabbed with knives; it was agonizing.
With how old Hadrian's family history is, it was well known that they held the secrets to many lost or forbidden spells. Because of this, Hadrian knew a spell that could act as a counter to almost all dark magic but using it now would not only be way too suspicious for his character, but also that level of magic always had a consequence. He just had to hold out until the teacher came to stop the duel.
"What's going on here?!" The hysterical voice of their—somewhat crazy—professor, Bellatrix Lestrange, cut through the room. All the duels in the room stopped as their attention immediately went to the intimidating professor.
Both Ron's and Draco's faces paled as they watched their professor stomp over angrily. Her wand was already in her hand as she walked, and it was anyone's guess at whether it was drawn to initially stop the uncontrolled duel or to punish the misbehaving duelists right then and there.
"I was only defending myself, Professor," Draco heatedly explained, panting softly from the exertion. "I was just helping my dueling partner when Weasley attacked me."
"What—" Ron sputtered indignity.
"Twenty points from Gryffindor, and a detention with me for attacking another student unprovoked," Bellatrix said. This punishment was not followed by one for Draco, but nobody was surprised. She was his aunt after all, and favoritism was already to be expected from such a case. That, and she always favored Slytherin anyway.
"Unprovoked?!" Ron's voiced raised in pitch the angrier he got. He jabbed his finger at Draco to emphasize his point. "That git insulted my family. I was only defending my honor."
Draco scoffed. "What honor? A blood traitor like you doesn't have any honor."
The effect of Ron's responding glare was lost somewhat by his cherry-red face. "You want to go again, Malfoy? Because, as I recall, I was kicking your a—"
"Thirty points, Mr. Weasley," Bellatrix interrupted irritably. "If you don't want me to keep counting you'd best shut your mouth."
For a moment it looked like the furious Gryffindor was going to continue arguing, but he reluctantly snapped his jaw shut before any more sounds could escape.
"Good," Bellatrix continued. "Now, you can go back to your seat and write me a 10-inch essay on dueling etiquette for the remainder of the class period. The rest of you get back to work."
Ron shot one last glare at Draco before marching to his seat while the attention of the students went back to their respective partners. Hadrian watched all this happen from his spot on the floor where he was still laying prone. He couldn't even summon the energy to get up again because of his exhaustion from the continuing curse that was still afflicting his body.
Professor Lestrange seemed to notice the body lying on the floor, and she walked over to the prone student. "What's wrong with you?" Bellatrix asked. She experimentally nudged him with her foot, probably to see if he was still responsive.
"Curse…" Hadrian bit out through clenched teeth. He shuddered slightly as the action from his teacher sent another spike of pain up his arm.
Bellatrix tilted her head curiously in response and then promptly waved her wand over his body. Hadrian could feel the tingle of magic as it ghosted over his skin following the movements of the witches' wand. "Ah!" She said in a tone that sounded as if she made a great discovery. "Nothing a simple counter can't fix." She then waved her wand again with Latin incantation words muttered under her breath.
A soft glow of light suddenly encompassed his body. The magic felt cold, much like the Dark Lord's, instead of the warming feel of healing magic that he had been expecting. The stabbing pains gradually eased from his body, settling to a tingling ache. Hadrian sighed in relief as the pain continued to edge away.
The professor leaned down and grabbed his arm in a surprisingly strong grip for such a thin woman and pulled him to his feet. "No slacking off now. We still have thirty more minutes of class so get back to practice." She shoved him in the direction of his partner and wandered off to go back to yelling at students about their atrocious dueling forms.
Luckily for him, Draco was just as exhausted from the earlier events of the class and didn't end up throwing more than the basic jinxes and disarming spells at him. The rest of the class passed by quickly after that, and Hadrian was relieved when the bell rang, signaling the end of the period.
Hadrian followed the flow of students out of the room and into the unusually crowed hallway. He wanted nothing more than to go and hide away in the Room of Requirement for the rest of the evening, but unfortunately, there was a mandatory event he had to attend.
The Dark Lord was leaving Hogwarts that day since the aptitude testing was done, and a feast was being thrown in his honor. It wasn't a very formal affair as it usually occurred a couple times throughout the semester, but all students were expected to dine with the Lord when he was present. Any who student who didn't show up was doomed to spend a week in detention with the Headmaster who had horror stories told about his detentions. One rumor even went as far as to say that one student never returned.
Hadrian arrived at the Great Hall in no time at all and sat down at the Slytherin table in the seat that was closest to the door. He was ready to escape the noisy hall and make his way to his sanctuary the moment the feast ended. Hadrian glanced around as the hall continued to fill and absently scratched at his right arm. A strange burning sensation had slowly begun to irritate his arm just above his wrist. He pulled up his sleeve to see what was bothering his arm so much, but there was nothing but unblemished—if not slight red from his scratching—skin.
Once the students were seated, the teachers took their places at the head table along with the Dark Lord. There wasn't usually a speech given and tonight was no different. Once the guest of honor was seated in the high-backed chair in the middle of the teacher's table, all of the tables then filled with food. It was a bit different than what was usually served at dinner given the special occasion, and Hadrian wasn't about to complain. It was the one highlight of the mandatory event that he looked forward to.
Hadrian ignored most of the conversations going on around him. The loud chatter of the completely filled hall made it difficult to really hear anything of interest anyway. He briefly heard Draco's obnoxious voice about a quarter of the way down the table mentioning his victory over Weasley in the impromptu duel earlier.
Hadrian was just about to take another bite of his food when the sudden chill of dark magic made him freeze mid-motion. The air chilled but, once again, he seemed to be the only one affected by it. He chanced a glance up at the head table, but the Dark Lord appeared to be at ease and was engaged in a conversation with Headmaster Snape.
It might be that this was his first time eating in the presence of the Dark Lord with his heightened magic sensitivity, but the distance between him and the Dark Lord seemed a little much for him to just be releasing his magic freely. Hadrian focused on the magic-thick air, and he found that if he focused and squinted he could see a barely existent dark shadow encompassing the room.
Hadrian winced as the burning sensation on his arm grew. He sat back and gripped his arm tightly under the table as if that would stop it's increasing irritability. He couldn't even think about eating anymore since his appetite was long gone with the dark energy making a concerning appearance and now with his inflamed arm.
He was forced to wait through an agonizingly slow half an hour before he could leave. Not once did the magic lesson, nor the burning in his arm. Additionally, his sporadic glances at the Dark Lord showed that the man never appeared as if anything out of the ordinary was going on, he only focused on the conversations with the teachers and enjoyed the food.
Once the time hit eight, Hadrian was immediately out of his seat and striding out of the Great Hall entrance doors. The feeling of the dark magic disappeared, and the burning on his arm lessoned. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt like he could finally relax. Hopefully, this was his last encounter with the Dark Lord for a long time.
The rest of the semester passed swiftly. OWL's had been taken before the aptitude testing and, because of the renowned test, they didn't have any final exams to worry about. Before Hadrian knew it, he was on the Hogwarts Express heading back to London for the summer break.
He had gotten on the train early so that he could seclude himself in a compartment toward the back. As the social outcast of Slytherin, nobody wanted to sit with him, leaving him with a compartment to himself. To pass the time, he lost himself in a book that he had brought from the Room of Requirement about his independent study topic: magical growth.
It was about an hour into the train ride when Hadrian felt the tingle of magic around him. It wasn't like the chilled and heavy dark magic that belonged to the Dark Lord, but rather warm and feathery. Hadrian closed his eyes and allowed himself concentrate on releasing his magic to feel where this new energy was coming from.
Almost instantly he felt a barrier of magic coming from the compartment behind him. He noticed it was a combination of a silencing and notice-me-not charm, but the spell work was sloppy and wasn't confined to the walls of the neighboring compartment. It instead spread partway into his, so he could still hear the murmur of voices coming from behind him.
Hadrian debated on just going back to his book, but the secluded location of their train compartment, coupled with the sneaky nature of the spells, practically spelled disaster. He wanted to make sure that if it was the Gryffindors planning another harebrained prank like last year then he could know how to avoid it.
Hadrian turned and casted an amplification charm on the wall behind him to increase the sound coming through. If he listened carefully he could make out the heated debated happening on the other side.
"You seriously need to drop it, Ronald." The female voice that drifted through the wall sounded like the know-it-all fifth-year Gryffindor named Granger. "We've already talked about this. It's obvious that You-Know-Who wouldn't trust a light family to be his circle, especially since your dad is still wanted by the Ministry. We're just lucky that at least Li got in."
"I know, but Dumbledore was counting on me," Ron said in a strained tone. "He said that I had the strongest magic of the group."
"Ideally, it would have been Neville who got in, considering the prophecy and all," Granger said. "But that wasn't really an option though, no offense Neville."
"None taken," Neville replied. "I still can't believe that Dumbledore thinks that the prophecy is talking about me. It's been around for ages, why would this generation be any different? Besides, what about the actual heir to the Peverell family? Isn't he a more obvious choice?"
"Prophecies can be tricky things," a new voice said. Hadrian wasn't completely sure on who it belonged to, but he had a feeling that it was Li's. "By saying that a Peverell was going to be the inheritor, it could also be including side blood lines, such as the Longbottom's."
A sigh was heard before Neville spoke again. "But I'm not magically powerful. Isn't it a bit of stretch to think that I won't come into my powers until I am of age?"
"Come on, mate," Ron said. "How else can you explain your lack of ability when your parents were incredibly strong Aurors. Besides, Dumbledore has had plenty of experience with prophecies in his old age, you have to trust him."
"I guess…" Neville trailed off.
"Let's not talk about such a depressing topic right now," Granger said. "Dumbledore will want a report from us later anyway." Right after she finished speaking the charms around the room dropped and the topic changed to Quidditch.
Hadrian cancelled his own charm and sat back in his seat. It was careless of the light supporters to be talking about such sensitive topics in the middle of a train full of Dark Lord supporting students, especially when their privacy charms were less than ideal.
As he sat there thinking, he couldn't help but mull over the information he had heard. It looked like the Light Rebels were relying on the fact that the Longbottom heir was going to be the inheritor of the Master of Death in order to win their war with the Dark Lord. Hadrian knew that the Dark Lord was also waiting impatiently for the arrival of the heir, but the prophecy—like all prophecies—was vague and gave no real clue as to when or where the heir was to be born.
The Light Lord's theory was possibly created as a desperate last measure because his side was not supported by the Peverells. Because of the Peverell's power, political influence, and being the supposed bearer of the Master of Death, they weren't forced to pick a side in the previous war. They were one of the few families that remained grey, or neutral, and did not participate in the war itself. Although they had been approached by the Dark Lord numerous times, they did not sway from the grey side. They entertained the Dark Lord at political functions but did not openly support either side.
Had it been anyone else on the train that had overhead the Light Rebels' conversation, they would probably have been reported by now. Since it wasn't Hadrian's place to make a move for or against either side, he would keep this to himself.
Hadrian rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired. Why was the world so desperate on the arrive of the Master of Death? He had a feeling that he was going to have deal with this for a long time to come.
Hadrian stepped off of the train and quickly began weaving his way through the students and families to get to a clear area. After his first year he learned that it was much easier to simply shrink your trunks before getting on the Hogwarts Express rather than trying to push your way through the crowded station with a trolley.
He made it to the back where he was sure that he wasn't going to bump into anymore passersby and pulled a small key out of his pocket. A tap of his wand and a moment later he was porkeyed away from the station.
Hadrian landed in the elegant black and gold colored entrance hall of the Peverell manner. Right after his feet touched the ground he heard a POP to his right. Hadrian looked over and was unsurprised to see one of the house elves looking up at him.
"Minsey was told by the Masters that Young Master Hadrian was to get settled and then meet the Masters in the Lord's study," the elf said.
"Of course, thank you," Hadrian said with a small nod. Minsey disappeared with a POP when Hadrian walked past and ascended the stairs to the second floor. He made it to his room in a short period of time, walking through the winding halls with steps that were long since memorized.
Once in his room, Hadrian unshrunk his trunks and set them to the side to be unpacked by the house elves later. He wasn't worried about using magic outside of school since the tracing charms had long since been removed by his parents. Their connections in the ministry made it very easy to get by with such illegal actions.
He tapped his wand to his ring and cancelled the active altering runes. Hadrian's height increased by a few inches and he could feel his muscles filling out a bit more than his other persona did. A glance in the mirror showed his once brown hair had turned into a flowing, slightly longer black that reached below his ears. His dull brown eyes were now a brilliant green that practically glowed from reflecting light. His facial features sharpened, and the well-known aristocratic characteristics were now present.
After confirming the active status of the magical suppressing runes, Hadrian changed out of his school uniform and into his casual but finely made robes that his parents preferred. He didn't care much for the expensive style and material of the robes, but his parents had a strong preference of what they wanted him to wear and since they paid for it, it was always to their preference.
He headed down to the Lord's study that was a floor below his own room. The mansion was as quiet as ever, causing every step to have a slight echo on the hard floor. The dark, engraved wood of the large approaching door indicated his arrival at the Lord's study where the current head, Roman Peverell, and his wife, Arabella Peverell, were often found.
His knock on the door echoed loudly down the hallway. A few seconds later, a masculine "Enter" answered his knock. He walked into the office to see his father sitting at the dark wooden desk in the back. His mother was seated across the desk from his father and both were currently engaged in filling out paperwork. This was a common sight to come in to when both his parents were working on related topics for their jobs at the ministry. Hadrian's steps were light and quiet as he crossed the room and took the empty seat next to his mother. He waited patiently for them to finish.
Before long, his father set down his quill and looked up at him. "Welcome home, Hadrian. I trust school passed by without much incident." There was an odd tone in his voice that made Hadrian a bit cautious when confirming his father's statement.
"Yes, father," Hadrian replied in a respecting tone. "The aptitude testing had the expected results with the Dark Lord selecting the current Death Eater's children with the addition of a Ravenclaw named Sue Li. My testing passed without any reveal of my magic, but the Dark Lord seemed interested in my ring; although, as far as I can tell, he made no relevant conclusion about it."
"Then why was I was informed that the Dark Lord was looking up Harry Peirce's file at the ministry?" His father's tone carried a mix of a concerned and disappointed sound to it. "The Dark Lord does not merely look up a student's file without cause. I feel that you are not telling me everything."
Hadrian was careful to keep a neutral face against his father's accusations. He didn't want to tell them about the straining runes that were struggling to suppress his magic or the sudden appearance of his magical sensitivity. He knew that he parents were anxious and were watching him for something, but their continued secrecy made he feel less than cooperative. He was going to find out for himself what exactly they were expecting from him.
"I don't remember anything else that would be considered an important factor to the Dark Lord's interest." The statement was true enough. He really didn't know why the Dark Lord was trying to look up his history, but, like his parents, he knew it wasn't good.
Roman gave an annoyed sigh at his son's words. "Then if you do remember something, you are to come to us immediately," he said.
"Understood," Hadrian replied.
"There is one more thing that you should be informed of," his father said. "The Light Rebel's leader, Albus Dumbledore, has reached out to me recently."
"Why?" Hadrian asked slightly surprised. "They know that we are not going to support another war."
It was his mother this time that answered his question. "They believe they have the chosen one, the heir of Death, on their side. According to Dumbledore, he believes Neville Longbottom will be coming to his inheritance within a few years." Hadrian already knew this but nodded to confirm he understood. "Because of this, they believe a great change is coming and warned of potential future events."
"I see," Hadrian said. "Do you also believe that the Longbottom heir will inherit the powers of the Master of Death?"
"Only time will tell. That is all." His father turned back to his work, a clear and sudden dismissal from his parents. He stood up to leave but before he could move away from the desk, his father reached out and grabbed his right wrist. He jerked up Hadrian's sleeve to examine his arm. Hadrian started a bit at his father's sudden action but didn't pull away. His father's mouth tilted into disappointed frown before letting go of his arm and motioning Hadrian to the door.
Before he could ponder his father's actions, he was halted by his father's voice speaking once again. "Don't forget, training resumes tomorrow morning at five." With that, Hadrian left to return to his room.
