I'm sure you're all wondering where the hell I've been. I could give you a hundred excuses, not the least of which being that I had a lot of work to do in real life, but I'm not sure my excuses are enough. Thus, I shall refrain. Thanks especially to those reviewers who periodically reminded me not to give up on this (because I really have promised myself not to abandon it). Your concern is gratifying.

I'm also sorry that you waited so long for such a short chapter. Rest assured, most of the others will be longer. There was a reason I stopped this chapter here. Sorry for the wait, and enjoy.

Chapter 11

For a moment, Hadrian considered going to find Severus or, better yet, going off on his own in a corner to feign invisibility. He quickly decided against both options, knowing that his father expected him to remain close and that, should Domitian decide to seek retribution for losing their battle of exchanged insults, he would be easily deterred by their father's presence. After all, Hadrian didn't want his chances of getting off punishment being ruined by his spoiled twin.

It was not difficult for Hadrian to locate his father; the Dark Lord had a rather commanding presence, after all. Contrary to all of Hadrian's expectations, his father was off to the side of the room, conversing with a small group of his associates.

He would have continued toward the group had he not heard his name.

"I fear I've let Hadrian roam free for too long, Lucius. He has done nothing but misbehave in the last year, and when I attempt to tighten the leash, he only chafes more against the restrictions."

Hadrian changed direction ever so slightly, making it appear that he was leaning nonchalantly against one of the pillars that ringed the room, placing him conveniently opposite his father's group.

"My Lord," a rich baritone that Hadrian easily recognized said. Severus. "With all due respect, the boy isn't accustomed to being monitored so closely. Given more time, I believe–"

"I have given him plenty of time, Severus, but he refuses to bend. Your loyalty to the boy is commendable, but do remember that it is your loyalty to your Lord which matters most."

There was a pause, in which Hadrian could imagine Severus screwing his trademark impassive expression onto his face. "Naturally, my Lord."

"Of course, he is expendable in the long run; it would not do to give his attitudes much consideration."

Hadrian felt the world freeze around him. Had his father just said...

"Forgive my presumption, my Lord, but it seemed to some of us that you were using a double deception, of sorts." Severus again, apparently sticking up for him.

He had to lean further around the pillar and strain to catch the next words, for they were spoken so very quietly, like a secret.

"And why not a triple deception, Severus? Keep the enemy guessing and second guessing, while I hide my intentions in plain sight, train my heir and wait to dispose of the other."

Wait to dispose of the other...

Hadrian could no longer feel the ache in his clenched teeth, or the sting of his nails biting into his palms. He could not feel the tickle of warm liquid gathering behind his eyelids. What he could feel, what he had left to feel, was rage. And it burned.

He moved out of the hall, nearly knocking over a short, rat-like man and actually shoving into a rather burly, solid brunette in his angry distraction. Back to the little antechamber where they had entered, back through the not-quite-space tube of apparition, back to his room in the manor, where he automatically began to throw things into a black trunk which he had rarely ever used. The words kept replaying in his head. 'He is expendable...wait to dispose of the other...he is expendable...wait to dispose of the other...'

How had he been so stupid? It had always been a game he played with Domitian, seeing who could one-up the other by earning their father's respect. More often than not, Domitian had won. Even more often, Hadrian had held out hope that it was a ploy, because how could their father possibly be so blind and dull and dense? How could he possibly want Domitian's meager talent instead of his own prodigious work? Why couldn't he see what a mistake he was making?

And just when he had him believing, just when he had unsettled Domitian with the thought that maybe he wasn't the heir and everything was upside-down and backwards, the bomb was dropped. Everything hurt and stung because of it, but the ironic part was that nothing mattered now. His father had always intended to slaughter him and let Domitian have everything he himself had ever dreamed of having, everything he deserved. The hints, the ploys, the stray bits of praise sometimes thrown his way, were all part of some elaborate, sadistic ruse to keep him hoping that, just maybe, he was worth something.

It was as if his entire life had just been one big, sick joke that he was only now being let in on. Well, he wasn't going to laugh. He was tired of being dangled on a string. It was over.

Hadrian picked up the book he had set down on his table earlier, another of the books he'd been hoping would give him an answer to his problem, a plan to keep his father from finding him. He had spent so long and done so much work, reading and cross-referencing and constructing all kinds of scenarios in his head for how it would work, and how he could keep the man from finding him.

Fuck planning. His father didn't want him, anyway. Just like everything else, planning didn't matter now.

He slammed the book with excessive force into the trunk, locked it, and shrunk it to slip into his pocket. He removed his robes as violently as he could and exchanged them for a set of black muggle clothes.

A slight tap of his wand shrunk the trunk to a manageable size. He looked around the room once more and was about to leave when a familiar hand roughly took hold of his arm, preventing him from turning.

"And where, pray tell, do you think you're going?"

"Someplace far away from here," Hadrian spat. The Dark Lord's eyes narrowed.

"Oh? Is that so?"

The calm in his father's voice only buried Hadrian deeper in his rage. "Unless you'd like to dispose of me now and have done with it, Father."

"You are not finished here yet, Hadrian."

"You're right, I've decided to leave rather than give you the chance to finish me." He tried to yank his arm from his father's grasp, but his father only held on tighter.

"Listen to me, you stubborn boy!"

"You want me to listen? Now, you want me to listen, when I've finally realized what you're doing, and how stupid I was to think that maybe things would turn out differently, now I'm supposed to listen?"

"Hadrian–"

"Well, you know what? Fuck you. I'm tired of your sick little games. Find another mind to play with, I'm through letting you use mine. Remitto!"

The spell hit the Dark Lord's hand, loosening his grip. Hadrian yanked his arm away, and then he turned on the spot and was gone.