Hey hey, I'm back guys - thanks for being so patient, I've gotten a lot of messages lately asking me where I'd been and honestly it was just uni. The penultimate week has come, and the lead up to it was torturous. But hopefully things will start winding down soon!

Anyway, here's the belated chapter, and I hope you all enjoy :D :D

Hadrian scaled the front steps gracefully. He gave a polite nod to the doorman as he handed over his invitation, waiting for it to be verified.

His eyes trailed over the expansive gardens, stopping momentarily on the resting flock of white peacocks clustered to the north.

He almost snorted at the pretentiousness of it, barely resisting the temptation.

"Here, sir. Please enjoy your evening." The doorman handed the invitation back, the shimmering gold family shield flashed once, before turning a soft silver in acknowledgment.

Hadrian tucked the parchment back into his upper breast pocket and went inside, slipping through the domineering entry.

He followed the cleanly marked path until the space opened up into an exquisite hall, filled with all manner of sharply dressed figures.

While not the most extravagant party he had ever been to - he had found little could compare to the sheer beauty of Beauxbatons' halls - it was still an absolutely stunning gathering. The elegance was understated, and the decorations were few enough to not clutter the area, but still provide the needed embellishments all high-society functions demanded.

He scanned the hall swiftly, taking in the atmosphere, and recognising who he could. Names and positions flashed through his mind. There were less people than he had anticipated, but given who the majority of those in attendance were, Hadrian supposed that made sense.

His gaze made another lap, searching for one person in particular.

A slight part in the crowd revealed his target to him, and Hadrian felt his gut stir at the sight of the man.

It had been so long since he had dealt with Riddle like this, he had almost forgotten how otherworldly the man's guise as the Dark Lord truly was.

The bone-white pallor of his skin was almost ethereal in the brightly lit space, the twirling lights catching on whatever slip of pale skin it could and illuminating it. The serpentine features of his face were off putting, and while Hadrian knew that was the intention, he could not help but admit there was something fascinating about that face.

Or maybe it was because, for all the differences, he could still see Riddle beneath it, in the sharp cut of his cheekbones and the burning red of his eyes.

Eyes that were currently pinned to him.

Hadrian blinked slowly, before turning his head away as neutrally as he could. He spotted Hermione and Draco approaching, and went to meet them, ignoring the hook in his chest that tugged him in the opposite direction.

"Hadrian!" Hermione called, embracing him carefully. He kissed her on her cheeks in greeting, hardly noticing the flush that appeared at the sudden gesture. "I'm so glad you could make it. We were getting worried."

He smiled at her, squeezing one of her hands. "I'm so sorry, I was preoccupied with something and time got away from me."

"Well you're here now." She said, patting his upper chest in approval. "And you do scrub up nice. Is that a new suit? It's not the one you wore to the Yule Ball."

Hadrian spread his arms a little in presentation. "This occasion called for something different." He said with a grin. "I feel like a brand new me."

In all honesty, the suit was the one he had worn to the Yule Ball, but Hadrian knew a few tricks when it came to tailoring magic. His mother had had to learn a whole different range of spells in their first few years on the run to make ends meet.

As a result, he had learned to appreciate the usefulness of such spells and charms as well.

Draco snorted in amusement, "Well, now that you're finally here, we can proceed to our actual plans for tonight." He snapped his fingers, and immediately a house elf appeared with a tray of drinks. Draco plucked two glasses off and handed one to Hadrian, the other to Hermione, then grabbed his own.

Hadrian sent a kind smile the house elf's way, but refrained from thanking her as he wanted to. Gratitude could be seen as offensive to house elves in certain households, and he did not want to cause any waves just yet. At best, the poor thing would likely drop her tray in embarrassment.

It had taken Hadrian years to get the Beauxbatons' house elves accustomed to his manners. The first time he had thanked one, he had made him cry, then outright scream when he had apologised right after.

But he had worn them down after almost a decade. Now, they treated him with a mix of fond exasperation and stubborn determination to earn his praise. He was easily one of their favourites.

The elf stared up at him with wide green eyes before she ducked back behind her tray and disappeared with a twist.

He took a sip from his glass, trying to enjoy the drink even as it slid down his throat tastelessly. It was an odd sensation.

"So," he began simply, swirling the golden liquid in his glass until it dangerously approached the lip. "I figured out my clue for the next task."

Relief crept into Draco's eyes. "Thank Merlin," he sighed. "I've been waiting for you to do it for weeks. So you have the map too?"

Hadrian nodded, "Of the Forbidden Forest." He darted a glance between the two of them. "Is there anything in particular I should worry about?" He asked.

It was Hermione who answered, concern layered in her tone. "There are a number of dangerous creatures that live in the forest, but most of them have agreed to leave the three of you alone for the test." Her eyes slipped to the floor before meeting theirs again. "At least, that's what I heard Lucius discussing with Narcissa as we were getting ready."

Draco cocked an eyebrow in intrigue, "Father finally managed to convince the centaurs?"

Hermione hummed lightly, her eyes drifting around them for something. "That's what I heard. Of course, there's still a number of dangers in there, but the centaurs will be, well, overseeing things for the most part. To make sure you don't stray too far from the path, or stumble into areas you don't have permission to go into."

She wrung her hands together, only stopping when Draco reached out and brushed his fingers against hers. Their hands fell away from each other. Hadrian pointedly did not comment.

"Excellent then." Hadrian said after taking another sip. "So long as we have centaurs watching us we should be fine. If they promised to keep an eye on us, then they will do it. A centaur always keeps their word."

"And you're willing to trust them?" Draco asked, a not-quite grimace sneaking onto his face.

Hadrian nodded. "Of course. Centaurs are absolutely vicious when they need to be. So long as we're somewhat under their protection we shouldn't encounter anything too dangerous."

Hermione smiled at him, a little pained. "You stabbed a manticore in the eye, Hadrian. I don't think your idea of dangerous correlates with ours."

He tipped his glass in her direction in a mock salute, before downing half of it in one go. "I only technically stabbed it in the eye." He corrected. "Things like accountability always become blurred when doppelgängers are involved."

"It was a good move," Draco said, a small amount of grudging admiration in his tone. "Though I'm surprised you knew how to do it. It's not typically something taught in schools."

There was a question lurking in his words, but before Hadrian could answer he was distracted.

A whirling mass of magic condensed around him. It was thick, like honey, but felt bitter and burnt as it brushed against his own, trying to draw him into a battle of sorts.

He felt his magic shift impatiently, but it remained placid and refused to rise to the challenge. It had more important things to be doing right now then picking fights.

He let his eye flit between Draco and Hermione, not acknowledging the figure prowling towards him, and ignoring every instinct in him to turn and face the threat.

Both of them appeared concerned for the briefest of moments, their lips pursed, and the skin around their eyes tightened as they stared at whoever it was coming up behind him, before smoothing over.

"Aunt Bella." Draco greeted warmly, doing a marvellous job of sounding pleased to see her.

Hadrian blinked and looked down into his mostly empty glass, staring at the sliver of champagne still lingering at the bottom. This was not the follower he had been expecting to approach him, but it was not necessarily a surprise either.

"Draco, so nice to see you again." Hadrian tilted his head enough to catch a glimpse of the woman behind him, distantly noting the lack of greeting for Hermione.

Her smile was the first thing he registered - a wide, wild, dangerous stretch of her lips that was just a touch off for all that it was alluring. It sat just below a pair of dark eyes that glinted sharply at him, and Hadrian found his body rotating to face her almost automatically. No longer able to pretend she was not a threat.

Because that was exactly what this woman was.

Bellatrix Lestrange. A nightmare given human form. A maelstrom of magical force. A known psychopath and sycophant of the Dark Lord.

He tried to keep his expression polite.

She was watching him feverously, with a keen type of interest that did not bode well for him. "And just who are you?" The woman prompted, stepping closer, crowding into his space like she had the right.

Hadrian held his glass between them as a barrier, not backing away from the challenge she presented, but not engaging. People like her were worse when encouraged.

He forced his lips into a smile, holding out a hand in greeting. "Hadrian Evans, Madame Lestrange. I've heard many tales of your prowess in battle. It's an honour."

And in some twisted way, Hadrian supposed it was. Bellatrix Lestrange was one of the best duellists alive, for all that she was a monster. He could, at the very least, admire the skills she possessed, even if he hated how she used them.

Her eyes lit up with ruthless glee at his compliment, amusement darting along the edges of her blood red lips. She placed her hand in his, and even allowed him to raise it to his lips for a perfunctory kiss on her knuckles.

She did not, surprisingly, smell like blood - though Hadrian was still tempted to wipe at his lips as he released her.

"Evans?" She asked, a curious little tilt to her head. "Halfblood."

A light frown pulled at his eyebrows, but Hadrian refused to let it form. That had not been a question. She sounded confident in her answer.

The unease in his gut rose a notch.

"Muggleborn." He corrected, just to see her reaction. It was no secret what her opinions were, but for some unfathomable reason, Hadrian wanted to push.

He searched for any sign of revulsion, any flicker of disgust that might cross her lovely features.

There was nothing.

Hadrian's feet spread wider, planting himself more firmly as his body prepared for an attack.

"I'm glad to see you've returned, Aunt Bella." Draco said suddenly, moving forward to stand with them. It was a protective move, and Hadrian was more bemused then anything when the blond slightly angled his body to cover him. "Mother would have been disappointed if you had missed this."

Bellatrix barely glanced at him, her expression a mix of condescending humour, and annoyance at his interruption. It was all too obvious that she was fixated on Hadrian.

"My husband was unfortunately unable to attend tonight," she told him abruptly, completely disregarding Draco's attempt at diversion. She leaned towards him as if to share a secret, and Hadrian squashed the urge to flinch away. "I wonder if you would be willing to entertain me in his stead."

And that was a loaded statement if he had ever heard one. Bellatrix's idea of 'entertainment' could range from a nice conversation to a round of torture. He rolled the stem of his glass between his fingers as he thought it through.

Any time spent in Bellatrix's company would be dangerous. The woman was renowned for her brutality, and she was intelligent - far more intelligent than people would assume from looking at her. She simply hid it beneath the writhing mass of madness that lurked in her eyes, letting others underestimate her. She wore her femininity like a weapon as well, but not in the way most purebloods did.

Bellatrix was beautiful, and she knew it. She took care in her appearance, her makeup and hair done impeccably with the latest styles.

But Hadrian knew she would let a curse maim her if it got her closer to victory - that she would gladly slice through her hair if it got in her way. She was the type of person who would claw her way over the bodies of her allies if it was necessary.

Bellatrix was a survivor - she was someone willing to do anything to win.

And he knew all this because he too, would do those things. It was uncomfortable - it was disturbing, - and as much as he wanted to shy away from the similarities between the two of them, he could not.

He had a job to do, and if spending a few hours with this woman was what he had to do to succeed, then he would. He would just have to put up with it.

It was not like she could actually hurt him anyway.

So he smiled, and handed his empty glass over to Draco, who took it with a tight frown. "But of course, Madame. I would be delighted to accompany you."

He accepted her outstretched hand and let her lead him pointedly towards the dancefloor. Despite who his current partner was, Hadrian felt himself begin to relax at the fact that they were only dancing.

He hesitated for only a moment when she turned to face him, before reaching out, placing his palm on her upper back and taking her hand in his other.

There was a silent moment as they waited for the music to start. Hadrian darted his eyes over Bellatrix's shoulder quickly, taking in both Draco and Hermione staring at him.

The first few notes trilled through the air, and Hadrian moved into a simple waltz. Someone with Bellatrix's upbringing would definitely know the moves.

She followed his lead without any posturing, which was mildly surprising. He looked at her from the corner of his eyes, trying to understand her game.

"May I ask why your husband was unable to attend?" He inquired, bothered by the quiet between them. It felt suffocating, and anticipatory. He did not like it.

Bellatrix hummed, and Hadrian skin prickled at how close she was to his neck. "Rodolphus doesn't care for these tiresome things. He finds them boring and drab."

"And you don't?" He questioned, guiding her around another pair smoothly.

"They have their moments." She told him, tilting her head enough to catch his eyes. Her smile widened a touch. "Like tonight, for instance."

Hadrian returned the smile, though it felt too stiff to be natural. "I'm flattered."

"You should be." They stepped through another sequence, and Hadrian bit back his instinctive response to her arrogance. He had spent so long pretending to be a muggleborn that sometimes he forgot he was not.

Let it roll off your back, he told himself firmly.

Her hand flexed around his fingers digging into his flesh, and it snapped his attention back to the point of contact between them. "You're cold." She observed, an odd tone creeping through her voice.

Shit, he thought. "Bad circulation." He explained, mouth moving before he even had time to consider his excuse.

Of course he was cold. He redirected a trickle of his magic into his hands for a mild warming charm.

Bellatrix's eyes were fastened on their joined hands, before they slowly trailed up his arm, to his face. She looked curious, staring at him blatantly now as they entered the final section of the song.

She matched him step for step, never hesitating as her body twisted with his, fluid and instinctive in each movement. It was exhilarating, and horrible in equal measure - how synchronised they were with each other.

They came to a stop, but neither made to pull away. Hadrian met her gaze fully, trying to place the emotion in her eyes.

She leaned forward, changing into a new starting position. Hadrian automatically followed form. Her lips brushed against his ear, and he wanted to shiver at the soft puffs of air that were running along his neck.

"Has anyone ever told you how much you look like your daddy?"

The next song started.

She pressed forward, and Hadrian had no choice but to step back, his legs suddenly unsteady as he let her take control.

"Surprised?" She asked slyly, and the hand she had on his shoulder began to tighten. "I admit that I was to discover who you were. Did you know I was once in charge of hunting you down?"

His jaw clenched as he let her spin out, then back in. He did not know what to say.

"I was upset when the search was called off. I wanted to be the one to find your mudblood mother and bring her in screaming." She curled into him, their chests pressing together as they twirled.

He bit back the snarl that begged to be released. She was trying to get a rise out of him, and while her methods were not particularly subtle, the bluntness served her well. She had picked out his weakness for his mother too quickly for it to be a guess.

Riddle had clearly told her more than his true name.

He let his hand slip lower, getting a firmer grip on her back as he leaned her down into a dip. She curved her spine easily, following the movement with all the grace of a lioness. He let her hang there for a beat, and smiled with his teeth.

"And I bet your failure stung." He spat quietly, pulling her upright faster than necessary, their faces inches apart. "I bet your Lord was disappointed that one of his favourites couldn't even find a mother and her baby."

Her face twisted, rage storming over her features as she tried to keep herself under control. "How does it feel, Madame, to know that you got bested by a mudblood?" He hissed in her ear.

"Careful little boy." She warned, and the anger in her voice was delicious. "You're protected for now, but one day that will change, and I will be the one to rip those pretty eyes right out of your skull. I'll even present them to my Lord as a gift. He loves green."

Her hand on his shoulder came up suddenly, the nail of her thumb skimming along the soft skin underneath his eye in time with her threat.

The music came to an end once again, the last few notes echoing beautifully in the open hall.

Hadrian reached up and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for another polite kiss as he bowed to her. He cast a vicious smile up at her. "I doubt I'll lose it any time soon. He rather enjoys me alive." He confessed, enjoying the flash of shock and outrage he spotted.

"Thank you for the dance, Madame Lestrange. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

He left her behind on the floor, steps light and mouth twisted in grim amusement.

It was only a matter of time until he was approached again, and Hadrian was looking forward to the inevitable confrontation. There was a heady sort of confidence to him, knowing how untouchable he was right now. That there was nothing they could do that could hurt him.

OoO

It was funny, in an abstract way, how Peter's expression changed.

Hadrian watched with a distant sort of satisfaction as the man's face went slack with shock, before morphing swiftly into something close to agony.

A muffled, ragged noise tore itself free from Peter's throat, and a line of drool was tracing its way down his chin as the curtain fragment was slowly saturated with his saliva.

Hadrian pulled himself up properly, one of his legs curling to his chest while the other rested languidly on the floor. He wrapped an arm around his knee and just stared.

He took in the lacklustre wizard, took in his new, fitted, embroidered robes. How well fed he looked, how clean he was - and something in him began to spark.

He could feel it growing, burning through his chest, horrible and violent as it rushed through him. The edges of his vision began to darken until all he could see was the line of neat, high-quality stitches along Peter's collar.

That he was here, clearly wanting for nothing, while Hadrian and his mother had spent years practically penniless because of his actions, was too much.

In a flash Hadrian had moved, crossing the space between them with a lurch. His fist slammed into Peter's cheek with enough force to drive the man to the ground.

"You bastard." He spat, scrambling over the man and hitting him again and again. "You utter bastard. They trusted you."

He felt Peter's nose give under his hits, and it was the sharp crack that stopped him cold.

Hadrian half-collapsed on top of the man, his arms trembling as he struggled to find his strength. He kept his head ducked down, unwilling to even look at the traitor. The words kept spilling out of him though, and Hadrian, to his own horror, felt his eyes begin to sting.

"You sold us out. They trusted you and you betrayed us. And for what, Uncle Peter? New robes? A fancy house?" His gloved fingers curled into fists, the material squeaking from how tight he squeezed. "You - how long did you wait before you went running to your fucking master? An hour? Two?" His shoulders heaved, and Hadrian kept his face carefully pressed against those bloody robes, hiding the tears that were beginning to escape.

This man did not deserve to see him break.

"Did you hate them that much?" He asked quietly. "Did you really despise them enough to let them die? Did you hate me that much?" He pushed himself up, cheeks damp and mouth twisted into a sneer. "Answer me!" He ripped the curtain out of his mouth, tossing it to the side where it landed with an audible splat.

Peter watched him silently, his face covered in blood, bruises already springing to life across his sickly face. He was crying, making an absolute mess of himself, and Hadrian viciously thought that he did not have the right to be upset.

"H-Harry-"

"Shut up." Hadrian barked, and his magic surged in response. Below him, Peter choked, a disgusting, wet sound, and his body twitched as he struggled to breathe.

Hadrian stared, and a cruel, black part of him enjoyed watching this rat suffer. The sorrow, acute and sharp like a dagger, gave way to an icy rush of calm.

"You took everything from me," he said, leaning closer so Peter could hear over his own pathetic wheezing. "I lost my home, my life, my father - because of you. It's your fault we had to run. It's your fault we spent years being hunted like animals. And now I almost lost my mother as well."

His magic receded, dragging itself away from Peter's throat but permeating the air, refusing to retreat completely.

The man spluttered helplessly, and when Hadrian looked into his beady eyes again, all he could see was fear.

Good.

"But that's not going to happen this time." He told him with a smile broaching manic. "You're going to help me get to her, and if you're lucky, I'll even let you live, Uncle."

He stood swiftly, heaving the other onto his feet, keeping a brutal hold of his arm. "Where is she?" He demanded. He rubbed at his cheeks, erasing the damning evidence of his weakness.

Peter shook his head. "I don't know," he whispered, voice cracked and rough. His eyes darted between the floor and Hadrian frantically. "I didn't even know it was - that it was Li - her."

Hadrian's temper flared once more and he slammed Peter into the wall, hand digging into the lapel of his coat and shoving his wand into the soft flesh of his throat. "Not good enough." Was all he said. "You're telling me that you have no idea - not the faintest, vaguest notion of where he put her? I'm not an idiot, Wormtail."

Peter flinched at the nickname, shrivelling under Hadrian's glare. He shook the man firmly. "Where. Is. My. Mother." He said slowly, emphasising each word with the steadily tightening twist of his collar; until the fabric was catching under the man's neck, threatening to choke him again.

"I - she'd be in the office," Peter stuttered, "or...or in his room."

Some unnamed emotion crept through his chest at those words, but he shook it off impatiently. "Which one?"

"I don't know!" Peter hissed, irritation sparking in his eyes before it was washed away. "He doesn't keep prisoners here. This is his private estate."

No. Hadrian refused to believe that his mother was not here. She had to be.

"We'll go to both then." He decided, hauling the man in front of him and shoving. Peter stumbled, his bound arms providing no help as he tried to regain his balance. "Lead the way."

But Peter was already backing away frantically, head whipping from side to side. "No! No, you don't understand. We can't."

"You owe me." Hadrian said, prowling closer. "You owe her, after everything that you did. Now show me where to go before I start opening every door in this place. And don't even think of transforming. You might make a tiny target, but I have very good aim."

He gestured widely to the foyer, over the grand staircase and the two openings on either side of them. Peter stared at him, his eyes shifty, before he slowly began to trudge towards the staircase.

They walked in silence. Hadrian kept one eye on Peter as they came into the second floor of the darkly lit house.

His attention flittered uncertainly from his prisoner to the house itself, his curiosity bubbling just underneath the layer of precarious calm.

This was Riddle's house, he knew, but the fact was still sinking in. He wondered how often the man was even here. It looked remarkably lived in, considering that he would probably spend most of the year at Hogwarts.

"Harry."

"Don't." He snapped, "You don't get to call me that, my name is Hadrian. And unless you have something useful to say, I don't want to hear your voice, either."

Peter, either with a sudden stroke of bravery, or idiocy, continued anyway. "How are you even here?"

Hadrian breathed deeply through his nose, gathering all the scraps of his patience and employing them. "I used my brain. It wasn't that hard to find this place. I mean, really? It's called Riddle Manor - just because the muggles can't or don't remember it doesn't mean it was wiped from the books. He should have been more thorough." He muttered to himself.

Peter's steps faltered, his head swivelling, expression twisted with what looked like incredulity. "You know?" He asked, some strange mixed of horrified and angry.

"Obviously." Hadrian jabbed his wand into Peter's back to prompt the man to start walking again. "It was hard to avoid, seeing as he broke into my mind and put his greedy hands all over my memories."

"Oh, my god." Peter moaned in despair, low in his throat. "How are you still alive? He's - he's been after you for years. You should be dead."

The bitter wave that hit him was expected, and Hadrian let it roll over him as harmlessly as he could. Now was not the time to let his control slip. He still needed Peter to get his mother. There were bound to be protections in this house, and hopefully, with the man accompanying him, they would remain dormant.

And if that failed, and they were still attacked by Riddle's wards, well - Hadrian was not above using a human shield.

"I'm alive," he answered, unable to resist commenting, "because Riddle - your precious little Lord - likes me." He told Peter, tongue curling around the words purposefully and revelling in the way the man stumbled in disbelief. "That's right, Uncle Peter. Quite ironic, isn't it? The man that's been baying for my blood for so long, the one you sold us out to, wants nothing more than to pin me to the closest surface and have his way with me."

Peter stopped walking, half-turning to face Hadrian, and the look on his waxy face screamed of his discomfort. Hadrian smiled wickedly, stepping closer, wanting to pick at that emotion until it bled. "You should have seen the way I made him tremble," he whispered sweetly, "how all I had to do was kneel and he was basically putty in my hands. The proudest ones are always the most fun, I find."

"Stop." Peter snapped, shoulders drawing tight and nose scrunching up. "I don't want to hear this. He's - you -"

"I'm?"

"You're seventeen." Peter hissed, and for some reason that completely threw him off. Hadrian blinked, taken aback by the sheer vehemence in the man's tone. Of all the things he could have said, Peter brought up his age?

"So what?" Hadrian challenged, "I was one when you practically sentenced me to die."

Whatever spark of fire Peter had immediately withered with the reminder. He shrank away, and fine tremors snaked through him once again. "That's different." He insisted, tripping over his own tongue. "That's - I had no -"

"If you say you had no choice, I swear to whatever god is listening that you won't see the light of day." Hadrian threatened, and his magic thrashed in agreement. "You had a choice, and you chose wrong. You chose to go to Voldemort, you chose to tell him where we were, and you chose to let us die."

"You don't know what it was like back then!" Peter wailed, pushing back and squirming away all at once, only managing to plant himself against the wall more firmly, unable to escape Hadrian's presence. "We were losing. We were dying left and right, and nothing we did, none of our plans were working. Dumbledore, the Order…it was only a matter of time!" There was a wild light in Peter's eyes as he continued to ramble, edging along the wall steadying. Hadrian matched him step for step.

"I saw where it was going, I knew what would happen to us. He – he just wanted you. He wanted you and said it would be over after - after you were gone." Peter swallowed heavily, keeping up his inching progress. "What's one life? One life to stop a war? I had to. You don't understand."

"I understand that you're an idiot if you thought for one second it would have ended with me. He played you like a fiddle, and you fell right into his trap." Hadrian scoffed, shaking his head. "You honestly believ-"

A click sounded, and Hadrian could only stare as the space behind Peter opened up with a bang. The man hurled himself to the side, bound limbs and all. Hadrian barely had a chance to process that before something shot at him from the opening.

He caught a glint of white teeth and scales before he threw himself backwards, dropping to the ground in a messy dodge. He avoided the deadly strike by inches, and rolled away hastily to get out of harm's way.

He sprang to his feet, wand already aimed at the massive coiled form across from him. Behind the snake, Hadrian made out the ruffle form of Peter dashing around the corner and out of sight.

"Coward." He spat, his focus already shifting to the threat in front of him.

The snake was ginormous, and though Hadrian had already encountered her once, the sheer size of her was something to be marvelled at. Especially now, shadowed as she was in the darkened hallway. There was an eerie sort of beauty to her.

And her eyes. They glinted at him, tracking him unnervingly, her black tongue tasting the air every few moments.

He swallowed, rolling his wand slowly in his palm as his mind whirled.

He should have known that Nagini would be here. She was the Dark Lord's after all, and if she came to Hogwarts with him, then of course she would come home with the man for the holidays.

Even Peter's memories had hinted at her presence, but Hadrian had been reeling from the revelation, swallowed by his fears and the ever-present worry over his mother, that it had completely slipped his mind.

You absolute idiot, he berated himself.

"Nagini." He said, then stopped, because there was no way she would respond to him anyway. She was beyond intelligent – he could see it, the cold calculation that was cycling through her eyes as she watched him – and she would only take orders from Riddle.

He was no parselmouth either, and while he could fight, he was hesitant to actually hurt her.

Riddle was – fond of him. He knew that. It had been a rather nice security blanket for some time, even though Hadrian did not like acknowledging it too often.

He knew it well enough to bet breaking into the man's own damn house.

But harming his pet? There had to be a line somewhere, and Hadrian did not want to know what Riddle's reaction would be when he inevitably crossed it.

Then again, a voice in his head murmured viciously, he crossed it first.

His feet shifted, and like a summons, Nagini lunged for him once more. Her mouth stretched wide, but strangely her teeth remained retracted. Hadrian fell back, feet rapidly eating up the carpet to create more space between them.

He danced backwards again when she started after him, her body twining like water, moving without a sound. His gaze darted around the hallway a little desperately. A list of spells and charms flew through his mind, each discarded carelessly, until finally he had one that could work.

He waited with baited breath, silently begging her to strike again. He just needed her in the right position, and he was running out of room to move fast.

Luckily, she did.

The moment she moved, her head aiming straight for him, Hadrian's wand cut up between them. "Ualidum." He said, stepping to the side and twisting his wrist in a tight circle.

The silver bubble engulfed the snake, and Hadrian watched, fascinated, as Nagini slammed into the barrier, her body crumpling against it gracelessly.

She slid to the bottom of the barrier, the silver shimmer following her movements, keeping her suspended in the air a few feet from the ground.

He stepped closer, studying her and the containment critically. "Sorry," He said simply, even as his heart continued to pound against his ribcage, "you were in my way."

She hissed at him, the sound hair-raising and sinister as she stared at him from behind the thin barrier separating them.

He wisely stepped away from her, turning back to face the hallway Peter had rushed down. Just the thought of that traitor made his chest burn with a fresh burst of anger, but now was not the time.

If Peter was as cowardly as he thought, the man would not risk facing Hadrian again. Which meant he would run. Which also meant that he could expect Riddle here within minutes. He had to find his mother quickly and get out of here.

Because once Riddle discovered his duplicity, he would come running to protect his leverage.

Hadrian bolted down the hall, no longer caring for any form of stealth. He threw doors open as he came upon them, the sting of disappointment growing with each empty room. It was only once he had past a second staircase - undoubtedly the one Peter had used to get away - that he stumbled across it.

The wall before him was blank, utterly devoid of anything resembling a door, but Hadrian knew, with a bone-deep conviction, that something was there.

He could feel the faint threads of magic weaving through the air before him, just hanging docile in front of him.

He raised his wand and set to tearing his way through the wards. It was impressive magic to be sure, and if he had the capacity, Hadrian might even enjoy the challenge they posed.

As it was, he just wanted his mother back.

He shredded through the wards senselessly, likely sending all manner of signals to Riddle.

The wall before him rippled, the image seeming to almost melt away, revealing a simple door in its place. He opened it before it had even fully formed.

His eyes shot around the room, and his legs almost collapsed beneath him in relief when he caught sight of those long, red strands of hair.

"Maman!" He shouted, racing forward and dropping to his knees, skidding to a stop beside her.

She lay unconscious on one of the lounges, body slumped and face relaxed. She looked like she was sleeping.

He reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek tenderly. "Maman?" He whispered, pressing more firmly into the soft skin to try and rouse her. "Wake up, we need to get out of here. Maman?"

His hand slipped to her shoulder, shaking her gently, the knot in his gut tightening with each second her eyes remained shut. "What the hell did he do to you?" He asked, shifting her upright and hating how limp she was. Her pulse was strong, and she was not injured as far as he could tell.

She just would not wake up.

So many of you were asking for a dance between Riddle and Hadrian since the Yule Ball, and while we didn't get that, I hope you still enjoyed Bella.

And can someone please tell Hadrian to stop antagonising all the woman in Voldemort's life? Boy's gonna get stabbed one day if he keeps this up XD

As always, come scream at me on tumblr if you want~