AN- To my faithful readers... I must apologize most profusely for my terribly extended absence. It may be no excuse at all but during these last few days away I was in an awfully dark place, it was filled with shadows, and light switches that clicked on and off with no electrical reaction. But that's not even the worst part... my Wifi! Oh my Wifi! Well to quote (basically every funeral) ashes to ashes. Thankfully, I didn't suffer alone, my sister nearly suffered a cardiac arrest when she realized she would be unable to finish her supenatural fanfic. Her suffering was so horrific she almost gave me an aneurism from having such close proximity to her.
But all in all, I am terribly apologetic about the delay, I can promise you it WILL NOT happen again (unless there is... you know... a zombie/vampire/werewolf/alien/AI/black hole/quasar/gamma ray apocalypse, so until World War Z (hopefully with zombies of the Walking Dead variety) my wonderful lords and ladies, I present to you...
Induction:
It was grand. The house was built atop a large hill, clearly in a position of power, as the structure gazed down on the houses below in the village. Its domain, clearly, stretched over at least half the town. Even in its plainly dismal state; windows boarded up, ivy snaking its arms up the walls like tentacles, and tiles, which had once formed a beautiful walkway, had been smashed and broken from years of neglect and vandalism.
Only the gardens remained pristine, as though they'd remained untouched by all the erosion of the outside world. It spoke of a previous life, a time not so long ago when things had been different.
That is... as far as the muggles were able to see.
For another wizard the house had been transformed, transformed from a muggle mansion of disuse and neglect into a wizarding structure which belied all evidence of its importance.
The manor grounds were immaculately kept, hedges trimmed styled like hair in a beauty salon. Glistening marble walkways approached the house like an entourage, and the gleaming fountain on the right side of the property was bordering on tacky.
Voldemort gazed at his surroundings, Riddle Manor was a place he detested. It spoke of a multitude of memories he'd be much more content to remain just that; memories. But instead he was dredging them up and then throwing them in his own face, like ice cold water.
There was only one good thing about this place; it was the sight of his rebirth. His own private renaissance if you will, his first kill held a certain place in the Dark Lord's heart that was neither warm nor loving.
The memory of his... grandparents in this house was distasteful. And thus his killing of them only marked the reason for his actions, they'd been disgusting Muggles, so caught up in their own wealth that they'd been unable to see much further than the silver spoon they'd been born with.
Just a few months previously he'd been in the same location in a much different position and in a much different body. Like Quirrell this body was unsuited for his presence, it was weak, unable to contain Voldemort and his magic simultaneously. However the body was suited for other tasks; public appearances were especially valuable commodity.
That was enough doleful reminiscing about one of his ancestral homes, he might as well have been going on like a first year Hufflepuff away from home for the first time in their miserable lives.
Hogwart's was just as he remembered it. Not just structurally, though nothing had changed in that department either. The walls were still stone, there were still the Slytherin dungeons, and Gryffindor Tower, along with the Great Hall, and the Chamber beneath the lake.
The students were the same as well. There were Malfoy' in Slytherin, Weasley' in Gryffindor, Bones in Ravenclaw, Macmillan' in Hufflepuff... even the poltergeist was still deathly afraid of the Bloody Baron.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Especially in this place, with each new addition to the staff the standards had fallen exponentially. Finally, after more than half a century; he was back.
- Page Break -
Lightning flashed, thunder rumbled its return attack. The two had been quarreling all night without any hint of a respite, Voldemort was unsure which of the two rival sides had claimed responsibility for the unending torrents that were raining down upon the castle. But that, nevertheless, didn't change the fact that Dumbledore had to shout above the roaring rain pouring down on the school. The sorting had been brief, each student going to their new respective house without too much commotion.
Things changed when the latest name was called out.
"Black, Hadrian"
Instantly whispers had erupted throughout the student body, each one flying around more ludicrous than the next.
"yes, that's what I heard..."
"son of Black, the mass murderer..."
"used to be Harry Potter..."
"heard he's really Grindelwald's son in disguise..."
"after the Blood Adoption he killed five wizards who were helping..."
"fed their bodies to his pet snake..."
"speakes Parseltongue you know..."
"next Dark Lord..."
"You-Know-Who's heir... I say he's coming back..."
Apparently the wizarding world wasn't looking too favorably upon their returning savior. However... at the Slytherin table Riddle noticed a distinct... lack of mockery, no whispers, no snide comments, no sneering gazes, no ridicule. In its stead were calculating gazes which belied a renewed sense of interest, and those expressions seemed to originate with Draco Malfoy.
Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir apparent to the Malfoy line, Lucius's son, and Abraxas's grandson. He was the spitting image of his father, but Voldemort was able to define the subtle influences of the Black line from his mother, Narcissa, in the boy's face.
It was softer than his father and grandfathers. Less harsh lines, and more inclined slopes, which pointed distinctly to an aristocratic facial structure and upbringing in case Tom had been unable to discern such a thing from the way the Malfoy heir carried himself.
Tom was reminded of the peacocks which resided in Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire.
But still as the hat was contemplating, Tom observed the boy underneath the sorting cap. He'd changed drastically since the last time the Dark Lord had laid eyes on the boy. But, it was more than the usual growth that children went through in spurts and droves.
Gone were the hideous glasses, and tangled hair that made him look like he'd just gone through a hurricane riding a Firebolt. And in its stead were blazing emerald eyes, Avada Kedavra green. Not many would have known, except the Dark Lord himself, who had seen, and cast that spell quite enough to know the exact color down to the very minute details. Replacing the untidy hair was a curtain of wavy locks which Tom noticed were quite similar to Regulus' hair.
It was more than that though, the physical features of a Potter were gone, and replacing them were the Black aristocratic facial structures in full glory. Tom knew enough about Blood Adoption to realize this was an expected outcome, physically all was normal. What the Dark Lord was particularly interested in were the magical changes.
Watching Draco Malfoy's cousin underneath the sorting hat, lips moving furiously as the boy appeared to be speaking directly to the hat above his head, finally the cap's brim opened and out came the cry of...
"SLYTHERIN!"
The stem of Dumbledore's goblet snapped, Hagrid let out a loud cry of dismay, McGonagall gasped, Snape sneered in disgust. All of that commotion at the Head Table was drowned out from the Gryffindor's reaction, most of them had known that Hadrian Black had previously been Harry Potter. And all of them had been looking forward to having him back in their house.
The Slytherins clapped politely, fixed expressions of serenity on each face. It would have taken a trained body language expert to have perceived the spark of triumph in Draco Malfoy's face... Tom Riddle was not trained, neither was he an idiot.
The Dark Lord's eyes glittered as he followed the graceful steps of Hadrian Black, as the fourth year made his way toward the Slytherin table, taking his place on his cousin's right next to Blaise Zabini. How... interesting. The Slytherin house had its own system of hierarchy and young Hadrian Black had just made quite the interesting splash.
Perhaps this warranted a second look, he had all year afterall, to accomplish his goals, and with his new... position in Hogwart's what could have been easier. A teacher taking an interest in their students academics.
Hadrian Black was an anomaly.
Tom didn't like anomalies.
Over an hour later, when the feast was coming to a close, the weather seemed to reflect the turbulent emotions flowing through the castle. The thunder seemed to be getting closer, crackling barely a second after lighting flashed. Over the tumult outside the students rambunctious chattering could barely be heard, and it appeared Dumbledore was having the same difficult in getting his students attention to signal the end of the feast.
"Well, now that," but it appeared none of the students were able to hear, "Children, children, settle down now." the Headmaster appeared to be getting nowhere, and the elder wizard pulled out his wand Voldemort saw him begin to flick it to set off a few bangs.
"Headmaster, if I may interrupt..." he spoke calmly over the noise.
Dumbledore looked at him, surprise lighting his aged features, apparently no one had interrupted him in the midst of his Welcoming Feast Speech. And gestured for his new staff member to continue.
"Perhaps a Sonorous Charm would be prudent considering the... less than favorable acoustic conditions for your students. Shouting, will do no good, and perhaps only strain you... mature vocal chords.' it was a reasonable solution, logical. But half the staff were looking at him like he'd done something unforgivable, McGonagall was staring at him like he'd just gutted one of her precious tabbies.
The grey haired Headmaster had, after giving him a look of contemplation, nodded graciously.
"Wonderful idea, Professor Gaunt."
At the mention of his name, several professors froze on instinct, their hands instinctively twitching toward their wands. Tom smirked, he didn't need their trust, but the former Slytherin was fully able (and willing) to work with the guilt they felt at immediately suspecting him.
Baseless reasons, they automatically assumed, because Professor Gaunt's family had migrated to America during some of the first migrations, Tom had easily spun the story of John of Gaunt escaping with his children and going underground in 1399 after their ancestor was deposed by the York's.
His life was well documented. Taught by tutors after his parents had been killed during Grindelwald's reign, taken his NEWT's at sixteen, had passed with flying colors, taken up several teaching jobs since then over the past five years, but had never stayed long.
The young wizard was looking for something permanent in his life after the tragic death of his family. It was a sob story that Tom had no trouble writing the script for, drafting it, and acting it out. Lights, camera, action! He was a born actor.
"CHILDREN!"
Dead silence.
Dumbledore chuckled, his blue eyes twinkling merrily.
"Well, now that I have your attention, and now that you have all been fed and watered," someone gave a loud "Hmph!" from the Gryffindor table.
"I must once more request your attention, while I give out a few notices from our staff members. Mr. Filch has made a list of forbidden objects that are not permitted inside Hogwart's. This list includes four hundred and thirty-seven items including Screaming Yo-yos and Fanged Frisbees. If any of you would like to see such a list it can be seen in Mr. Filch's office."
Dumbledore smiled blithely at all of them, as if he expected each and every one of them to march right on down to Filch's office to gaze in awe upon such a list of banned objects.
Tom snorted.
He wasn't the only one.
"And of course, the Forbidden Forest will as always remain forbidden, and out of bounds to all students. It is with great pain I must inform you that the Inter House Quidditch Games will not be happening this year-"
The elderly wizard was abruptly cut off by a loud chorus of outraged cries centering from the Gryffindor table, more specifically the Weasley twins. The rest of the teams appeared to appalled at such a travesty to speak.
Tom felt a brief flicker of exasperation, it was a sports suspension, these children were acting as though someone had mutilated a puppy and shoved the remains down their throats.
"And the reason for the cancellation of Quidditch season is due to a special event that Hogwart's is honored to be hosting come this October. It is an honor that I'm sure all of you will immensely enjoy participating in, and it is with a great amount of pleasure to announce that this year Hogwart's will be hosting the Triwizard Tournament!"
And once again the whole of Hogwart's was privy to the inner workings of several select Gryffindor's brain waves.
"You're joking right!" one of the Weasley twins shouted scornfully.
More than a few students found this amusing, Tom observed, as nearly half the student population suddenly found it appropriate to break in to noisy peals of laughter. The Slytherins and most of the Ravenclaws remained silent, their parents had undoubtedly told them over the course of the summer of the events to be taking place at Hogwart's. If only to warn them.
"I can assure you Mr. Weasley that I most certainly am not joking," Dumbledore seemed amused, McGonagall glared at the Weasley twins as though they had personally insulted her by interrupting.
"But back to the Tournament, the Triwizard Tournament is an event that was made... well... quite a while ago by wizards who were interested in a friendly game between the European schools of magic. Over the years this has come to include just the largest schools; Hogwart's, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. During the course of the Tournament a single student from each school will be elected to compete in the competition, this student will be a school representative and as such present to the world every aspect of our school. It is a great honor to be chosen."
The Dark Lord stared at the former Transfiguration Professor with a certain amount of amusement. Those friendly competitions had amounted in a death toll so large the tournaments had been stopped, with so many magical children dying every five years, the competition was more of a helper to the dying out of the wizarding world than a bonus of inter school cooperation.
It made an ironic sort of sense that Dumbledore would... forget to mention such a thing.
"And this year the Department of Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the world is ripe and ready to be plucked for another attempt at European cooperation. It was decided that it was long overdue for a new tournament, I mean really the last one was that war between the muggles in... hmmm 1568 I believe. The seventy years war? The eighty year war? Oh well, it was a long time ago and after a while history does begin to lose its meaning."
The current Transfiguration teacher cleared her throat loudly, and the Headmaster glanced apologetically her way. Tom smirked, Dumbledore really was McGonagall's bitch.
"But... anyway, a story for another time. This year the heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October and from there on the selection of the three champions will take place on Samhein, All Hallows Eve, where an impatrial judge has the opportunity to decide which students from each schools are worthy to have the honor to represent their schools bestowed upon them. And further to compete in the international competition fro the Triwizard Cup, and not only the glory of their school, but the acknowledgement of such an achievement to the entire wizarding world. Along with a thousand Galleons as prize money."
Each student in the hall gazed raptly at Dumbledore, nearly sitting at attention, so eager were they to hear more.
"To assure ourselves that we are able to have our students participate in the safest possible way, the heads of the foreign schools have elected to set forth an age limit on the contenders for the tournament. ONLY those who are of age, that is seventeen years or older, will be permitted to participate in the tournament."
The Weasley twins both chose to, once again, show their disbelief and displeasure at such an announcement. Tom was beginning to detest the two red haired dirges.
"That's RUBBISH! BOOO!"
They were quickly joined by about a quarter of the school, only to back down at the sparks shooting from McGonagall's eyes, and Snape's venomous glare which promised retribution if they didn't shut their pie holes.
"These measures have been enacted for your own safety, I can assure you students that I would not enjoy sending the letter to any of your parents that the contents of your body was to be sent home in a match box." the blue eyed man frowned reapprovingly at them.
"Now, students I know that all of you have lessons first thing tomorrow morning. So! Bedtime for the lot of you. Off you go! Chop chop!"
Five seconds later the doors were swarming like bees in a hive with students attempting to get back to their dorm rooms, not to sleep, but to engage in the obsessive gossip which pervaded the school. The Hogwart's rumor mill and gossip chain had a grapevine that could reach every corner of the castle faster than Dudley could inhale a doughnut on Sunday morning.
-Page Break-
Having Draco for a friend was a unique experience that Hadrian was unlikely ever to forget. For example, when all else failed Draco fell back on his old reliable methods; arrogance, nastiness, and that classic line, 'my Father will hear about this!'
His cousin was like a shell, there was the hard exterior her showed the world, and beneath it there was something that people rarely saw. From the way that Draco acted Hadrian knew that most of the other houses thought he was shallower than a kiddie pool.
However it was the attitudes the Slytherins displayed which shocked him. They treated Draco with a fine line of respect and friendship, never letting either skew their views of him. It made Hadrian wonder what Draco had done to earn such loyal housemates.
"You could say that the Slytherin house has its own... ruling system. We call it the Slytherin hierarchy."
A pause.
"It's loosely based on the magical courts just a few hundred years ago. At the top is the ruler with his sector. That would be myself, Zabini, Nott, and Greengrass. Below that we have a lower sector which would be the people of the court, mostly the upperclassmen, fifth, sixth, and seventh years, but some fourth years as well. The rest are considered under our protection, the Slytherin house protects its own, and we make it damn near impossible to isolate any single student."
"You sound like your expecting an attack at any moment." there were notes of disbelief in Hadrian's voice.
Draco's voice was steady, "Last year Higgs and Pucey were attacked by Griffindors and Hufflepuffs on their way back to the Slytherin dorms after Quidditch practise. They had to stay in the hospital wing for an entire week because Madam Pomfrey had to regrow the bones in their legs, and heal the burns which the Reductor curse had caused. Those burns encompassed forty percent of their body, and were something Madam Pomfrey called second degree."
"They were targeted after Black was let into the castle, they thought Pucey and Higgs were responsible, being the Slytherins we are, and decided to make them pay." Draco sneered, his expression cold, "they'd be heros right? Getting the information to capture infamous mass murderer Sirius Black, what would the ministry care that they'd stepped on the toes of a few Slytherins to do it."
Hadrian was silent, green eyes welling in disgust, he felt sick.
"How were they punished?"
His cousin looked at him in disbelief, "Punished, Hadrian? What the teachers did couldn't be called punishment, first McGonagall accused Pucey and Higgs of starting the fight, and that, of course, the Gryffindors were only defending themselves. Something that was completely unfounded by the lack of curses used on the Gryffindors. According to Pucey the Hufflepuffs summoned their wands from behind so they were completely defenseless magically.
Then McGonagall tried to get off saying that the injuries really weren't as bad as we were making them out to be, surely we were exaggerating. I thought Snape was going to crucio her when she said that. In the end they got letters sent home to their parents, about a "minor altercation" between other students, and two weeks detention with Sprout cleaning out the greenhouses."
Draco's stiff voice, stopped, there was pain in his stance, but his older cousin was trying to conceal it from him. A simple name change didn't erase the past three years.
"They tortured two people, nearly killed them, and got two weeks detention for it."
It was a statement, not a question because they both knew the answer had it been a query.
Draco sneered, "What did you expect, Black, McGonagall campaigning for Slytherin rights, perhaps?" there was pain in his eyes. That was when Hadrian understood, this house hierarchy system; they were under Draco's protection.
The other boy had mentioned it before, the younger students being protected by upperclassmen. It only made logical sense for the upper tier, that was Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Daphne to protect them.
Draco thought he'd failed at his job, that he'd neglected his duty to his house. Harry wondered why anyone had left such a large position to fill to a fourth year, why couldn't Pucey or better yet Flint have taken over? It made no sense, Draco wasn't even of Prefect age, he had no control outside his hous-.
Oh. Harry gazed at Draco with a new amount of respect. That was the point, that was why Draco held such a high position. It was all about power struggle, with his cousin holding such a high position inside their house he couldn't be permitted to have even more power through being a Prefect or Head Boy so as long as Draco continued to be, technically, powerless he would gain all the more power inside his own house. No one would know but the Slytherins.
All of them had plausible deniability. Clever, devious, he wanted in.
"Draco, what ever happened to those students who attacked Higgs and Pucey?" there was a dark look on his face, one that didn't promise sunshine and rainbows. His own house had done this, the emerald eyed boy felt disgusted at their actions, ashamed to share the same house with those bastards who had done such a thing to another classmate.
They deserved to pay, Draco had no power outside of the Slytherin house, he was a new player, something of an anomaly, something unknown. Politics had never been his forte but even Hadrian knew; what he was about to do would cause a splash.
-page break-
Going in with the first years had been insulting. The lot of them had been practically quaking with fear for the sorting, shooting him nervous glances as though they were afraid Hadrian was about to curse them.
Had he really been that short just a few years ago? Wow, parents were right we do grow UP fast. Terrible pun. Perhaps he was nervous. He'd done this before, there was nothing to be concerned about, but still there was that pit in the middle of his stomach that said he'd either done something wrong or was about to throw up.
He hoped for neither. This really was just like first year.
McGonagall called each of their names out in turn, some last names Hadrian recognized from the older classmen. His own name came far sooner than last time,
"BLACK, HADRIAN!"
Whispers erupted, everyone was craning their neck to get a good look at him, talking frantically to their friends. This really was exactly like first year. Fine, if they wanted a show that was what he'd give them.
Hadrian threw back his shoulders, a blank expression overtaking his face, remembering the way his own father had behaved when in public. A slight haughty expression, as though the people before him were graced with his mere presence alone, and a graceful stride. Something he hadn't quite mastered yet.
The last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes, was a mixture of Professor McGonagall's disapproving stare, and the rest of the student body practically falling over themselves to get closer. Hadrian sighed, these were his classmates... wonderful.
"Hmmm... you have changed quite a bit haven't you, Mr. Black. I can see it quite clearly now, all those thoughts and worries crowding around in your mind. Tell me something child, are you finally ready to take my original advice? To let me place you where I may? Even if that house is less than favorable?"
Hadrian clutched the edges of his chair, he'd already made his peace with Slytherin, he wasn't afraid of rejection anymore. The hat should be able to see that
"You've grown quite a lot in these past few years, experienced things no child should have to endure. You may believe its made you weaker, Mr. Black, but you'd be incorrect. You've strengthened yourself over the course of these last few years."
Hadrian said nothing for a long moment, "Can I help these people, you said I've gotten stronger, can I help these people? Can you see that?"
The Hat sighed, it was a rasping exhalation which belied the magical objects age.
"I cannot discern the future, Mr. Black. I am but an enchanted object used to display the Founders traits and search them out in the young people of today. I cannot tell you what to do, I'm merely set in place to help you take the best path."
Hadrian sighed, the Hat was right, he shouldn't expect all his problems to be solved by anyone other than himself. That was too much to hope for, he wasn't a child. That left only one thing left; resolve. He'd do this by himself, and he'd do this for himself, if he had to he'd change the world. It sounded like a foolish romantic idea most children had, that when they'd be older they'd move mountains and help people.
For him it was possible. He had the capability to do something, to correct all the terrible things taking place in the wizarding world. And if he had the ability surely he had the responsibility to do it.
An idealist to the very core, Hadrian wasn't naive, he was perfectly capable, and willing to carry out whatever methods it took to reach the end. He was ambitious and goal oriented, Draco would help him, as would the rest of the Slytherin house. Like he'd said before; family first. The hat had been right: Slytherin would help him on his way to greatness.
There was no doubt about that.
Dimly in the background of his mind, Hadrian heard a shout from the Hat, it barely pierced his ears. He'd already known its decision.
"SLYTHERIN!"
-page break-
AN- I am so so sosossososososososooooooooo sorry for the long hiatus! Like above I'll mention the reason: my power has been out for DAYS! I swear we had an insane amount of storms, the first to go was the Wifi and it also happens wifi was the last to be turned back on.
So my profuse apologies, to my lords and ladies I bid you good day and I must thank you fervently for all the reviews! I've broken over 50 do you think I can make it to 75 with this new chapter?
Your friend in time,
*Kasamira