Wew. This took a lot more time than it should have taken.
Sorry for the long wait.
As usual, a big thanks to Asmodeus Stahl for beta-reading this chapter. He has a few stories of his own, you should check him out if you want something that is well written.
Draco took a good look at the letter resting in the palm of his hand, trying to control his breathing and his shaking arms.
It had been a few days since he had been sent to his home after the troll incident. The students were now due to return the next day, and the blond only received Theodore's response on that very day. It didn't really surprise him in any way, after all, he hadn't been on particularly good terms with his former friend.
He opened the white envelope that contained the sheet of paper he absolutely wanted. It was a simple piece of almost tarnished paper, something the Malfoy Sion knew was deliberate. Not that Draco didn't expect it; The Nott heir has always been rather nasty in his way of doing things and getting his point understood. If the boy was capable of being alone in Hogwarts for a simple divergence of his opinions, then he could have probably written on a rock anyway.
"Dear Draco," started the letter, the words already taunting the blond boy, and the youngest Malfoy could almost see Theodore's smirk behind the ink drawings.
"I never imagined receiving a letter asking for information about the person who seems to be the bane of your existence. Truly, he must have started to annoy you even more than usual, for you to go to such lengths and contact poor useless Theodore. Fascinating, really."
Draco sighed. He knew he made a mistake excluding his old friend, but he just couldn't go back at that time. He used to hate Riddle with a passion, and he just couldn't allow himself to let Theodore search for his answers while being in his group. But the excluded boy obviously was the smartest out of them, and now that Malfoy could look at the past filled his multiple failed attempts at overshadowing Riddle, and away from the group that made his pride go crazy, he just felt a bit more lonely.
"As of Riddle, consider me surprised for asking honest questions about who he is. I expected you to ask how to overpower him, but it seems like you managed to understand by yourself that you just couldn't. And you were completely right assuming I did my own research about him...
There is no reason for me to tell you what I managed to gather. Our paths are starting to separate, and my goal diverges from yours. While you want to take his place, I want to befriend him."
Draco's hands clenched. He knew he would see that answer, but he still had hope. He had tried to contact Bellatrix, as she seemed to be one of the few that knew about Hadrian, but she had returned his letter, with the words 'Fuck Off' written over his. Apparently, she had heard of his comportment toward her little protégé, and she had been far from pleased. In her mind, Hadrian was her son, and she would absolutely never prioritise anyone above him. Even Tom became secondary — something the Dark Lord truly enjoyed. He knew his most loyal friend and Death Eater would always be there for his son.
"But I feel like I owe you. I couldn't explain why, but for a reason I don't know, I am willing to give you a piece of my report. Of course, you won't have everything. I am not foolish enough to think that you'd make good use of all of my work.
His full name, or at least the one he uses, is Hadrian Arthur Slytherin Riddle. If you listened to what our dear teachers say, then he is the best student the school has seen in decades. Yet, there was a student with an eidetic memory that graduated about twelve years ago, and another one about 47 years ago... I'm just letting you know.
So far, he has never been seen in the company of any student besides Greengrass, Longbottom, and Davis. However, a group of Ravens made a rumour, about one week before the troll incident, that he was seen with Professor Snape, not that anyone knows why they were talking. He has been hostile to every possible living being so far, and it doesn't seem like he plans to change anytime soon.
But all of this information is pretty much worthless to you, am I right? What you want to know is how he became so powerful for his age. Power over knowledge...
I'm afraid I don't know more than you on that matter. However, it shouldn't surprise you, really. The Slytherin line has been known for making incredibly powerful Heirs, much like the Gryffindor line. What, however, is surprising, is how the Heir from a lost line suddenly appears right back, and trivially more powerful than the Gryffindor Heir? Because, Draco, as much as you want to avoid it, John Potter holds a lot of magical power. The second he'll start to study, and stop thinking he owns the place, he is going to top the best students.
... But that information is still worthless. I don't think his blood explains how powerful he is.
So I turned myself to more various possibilities. Some that would seem stupid.
Is it because of how he was raised? He certainly holds knowledge, and as much as you despise him, every single act of magic he does is beyond precise. Obviously, when we were imagining ourselves becoming powerful sorcerers, he was training to achieve that goal. That would certainly explain why he is so far ahead of us.
But it doesn't explain everything. The amount of raw power he has cannot come from simply practicing. So, I turned myself to another theory.
It is very known that someone's magical core is expandable, but at a very terrible price. Most lost their lives or their mind trying to become not as half powerful as Hadrian is. Yet, there is one single non-ritual act that has been known for expanding someone's magical core... And it is despair."
Draco's eyes widened. What Theodore was implying was a theory, something that has never been truly explained. It comes from a single study, the one that wizards trapped for years in horrible places, would become slightly more powerful depending of their original magical core.
The blond thought several seconds about the meaning of this possibility. It was very doubtful, but possible. Very few wizards in history had observed such changes at all, but there were a few tales that narrated the histories of heroes who suddenly became much more powerful after being trapped in an endless misery. In the last decades, three individuals were observed with the same gain of power, whoever, the trauma of the prison made it impossible for them to use that gain, and in such became useless.
"This only is a theory. But my guess is that Hadrian Slytherin Riddle... wasn't originally a Riddle, nor a Slytherin.
This, however, would certainly explain his lack of social skills. That would explain more how powerful he is. And, Draco, that would explain how unstable he becomes when he finally lets it go.
I think Hadrian is a wonder of magic. A fusion between old powerful lines, a terrible past, and a thirst for knowledge. And because of how odd that already is... I think there is even more we won't ever discover about him.
There never has been a person as powerful as Hadrian since Merlin, I am sure of it, and I am almost sure there won't be another for centuries. He is an unexplainable being, a living miracle.
Yes, a miracle. This is what he truly is. The stars aligned themselves above his very being.
And because he is a miracle... The odds of becoming more powerful than him, of besting him, are non-existent. We simply can't, us, humans as a whole, understand why the Slytherin Heir is so powerful: we don't hold enough knowledge for that.
This is why I won't help you surpassing Riddle, Draco. As much as you showed that you despised him, I can't hold it against you. I made the choice of wanting to learn, live and grow under him. My goal isn't to surpass him, but to help him achieve greatness, and profit from it.
...
I will see you in school.
Theodore Nott."
Draco softly dropped the letter on the table in front of him, looking for several seconds at his hand before closing his eyes. He would definitely apologise to Theodore.
But for now, this had given him much to think about.
The Longbottom and Greengrass families were casually eating around the table of the living room of Longbottom Mansion.
For the past few days, they had started to frequent themselves a lot more than before. When the two families only used to interact during the Wizengamot sessions, they now almost spent every single free time of the year together. Usually, they ate breakfast at one of the two mansions and ate dinner at the Longbottoms'.
The obvious reason they were together so much was, of course, because of their children. They were inseparable and spent their days together. But it seemed like it also had a positive effect on their parents, who found themselves genuinely enjoying each others' presence.
And to their absolute surprise, Hadrian fit perfectly into that routine. Both sets of parents immediately loved him, not that they could entirely explain why. After only two days, he was like a second son to them.
It probably was because of how charming he was in his way of acting. Probably also because of how clueless he was in terms of social interactions. And he was a really good person to make conversation with, as he was genuinely interested in everything, and held enough knowledge to be able to respond with precise facts.
And Hadrian had seemed to immediately trust them, too. The boy probably couldn't explain why, either, but it just reinforced the link they had.
And it didn't take long for all of them to see his green eye.
The second they saw it, Frank and Alice knew for a fact that he used to be Lily's son. There was just no doubt allowed.
However, much to their surprise, they didn't manage to care enough to tell their old friend. Currently, the boy's trust was worth a lot more than hers, as they just couldn't get over the fact she had abandoned him. The boy was quiet, but visibly happy, and there was no doubt in their heads that both Tom and his son loved each other.
It was Lily's fault in the first place.
However, if they believed what Petunia had said, then Tom was not the most light wizard out there. He probably wasn't there to adopt Harry in the first place when he visited those muggles.
But, strangely, they also didn't find enough envy to care. Maybe something was wrong with them, yet, nothing seemed more important than the well-being of their children, and they were sure that taking the current Hadrian off the group would create a hole between them. This probably was why they couldn't act at all, but it didn't seem like a problem at all, in the end.
The children were speaking quietly among themselves. The parents smiled slightly, watching in silence as they waited for their last friend to start breakfast.
Finally, Hadrian appeared in the doorway, wearing the same kind of clothes he wore the entire week, a white shirt and black jeans.
However, the hair clip in his hair, making his left eye completely visible, was entirely new. The clip's bright golden colour contrasted with Hadrian's hair, as it was made for Daphne's hair colour.
The entire table looked at him, as he just made his way to them, completely relaxed.
"Hello." he said, void of any emotion, sitting down in his usual seat. A chorus of greetings responded to his own, with some raised eyebrows.
"Is this what took you so long ?" Tracey asked with a smirk, pointing at the hair clip, taking a second to admire her friend's eyes. The green emerald displayed for everyone to see just reinforced the boy's natural angelic beauty, and the black-haired girl was sincerely happy their friend trusted the group enough to walk with his more sensitive point exposed.
"No, I just slept for too long." he replied, munching on a piece of bread, fighting as hard as he could to keep his eyes open. Oh, how he hated getting up.
"And why did you sleep for so long?" Daphne asked, her left eyebrow raised. Hadrian just stared back at her without answering, before Neville burst into laughter.
"Let me guess, you enjoyed your book?" he added with a grin.
Hadrian nodded slightly. "I didn't know there were so many carnivorous plants in the magical Amazonia. It must cause a ton of muggle disappearances. I frankly don't know how they didn't discover them yet," he replied, his eyes looking in the distance, taking another bite of bread.
"There are too many dangerous things at all in Amazonia for them to notice the obvious," Neville answered, still ginning.
A comfortable silence occurred, as the children all started to eat. Daphne kept staring at the hair clip she had given Hadrian for his little experiment. He had downright said it wouldn't be permanent, but as everyone in the house had already seen his left eye, he just didn't see a reason for him to continue hiding it.
And, apparently, house elves didn't count as persons in the boy's head, because of how loyal they were to the Longbottom. No chance they'd ever reveal his secret to strangers.
"So, what's today's plan, knowing you'll be back at Hogwarts by tomorrow?" Frank asked, looking at the children, smiling when they all turned their head to him in perfect unison.
"I forgot about that," Hadrian sighed. Daphne smirked at him.
"Are you not happy to go back to Hogwarts? Imagine, Malfoy sneering at you every day, Dumbledore spying on you at every dinner, the entire house looking like they want to get in your pants..."
The glare she received was enough to make the entire table, including her, laugh.
"I'm just hoping we won't have another Troll-sized surprise, honestly. That Gryffindor-esque act of us already makes me tired," Neville added.
"See, Frank? He's been a Slytherin for barely two months and he already forgot his parents were Gryffindors," Alice said with a look of mock-despair on her face, causing Frank to sigh deeply.
"Yes, maybe James Potter was right, all Slytherins are evil..." he answered.
"Oh no, we're not having that discussion again!" Aroma said, Cyrus grinning next to her.
As the parents started to bicker about what house was the best, the children just looked at themselves with clear exasperation on their faces. Except Hadrian, who was smirking at the adults.
"How recurrent is that conversation going to be?" Daphne complained with a scowl.
"I hope a lot more," the Riddle Heir answered, receiving, again, a light tap on the shoulder from his blonde friend.
"Anyways, they asked a good question before they decided to bark at each other like raging dogs," Tracey added.
"Welp, we've already tried Quidditch..." Neville started.
"I remember, I won that," Hadrian replied.
"We did all kinds of card games."
"Won that too."
"Chess..."
"Yeah, I..."
"Hadrian, please shut up."
The scandalised look that answered Daphne made her grin widely.
John Potter sighed, looking at his window with his eyes completely void of any emotions.
He was tired. Yes, obviously, he hadn't slept much in the last few days, weeks even, but it wasn't in that way that he was tired.
He was tired of... himself.
John wasn't an idiot, or at least, he liked to believe he wasn't the one the others thought he was. Yes, he was a Gryffindor, through and through, and rushing into action without thinking much was just how he was. But he knew when to use his brain.
He just didn't want to.
James Potter had the reputation of being an ass, and it had, of course, extended to his son. Not that John didn't understand: when we wanted to be one, he could be a real asshole. And he had been, for years, blinded by his fame and his reputation as the Boy-Who-Lived. A stupid nickname, really, one that cost him a lot more that it gave him.
The real loss was the one of his mother, Lily Pot-... Evans.
John knew James Potter was an egocentric and a manipulative man, but the boy never realised until his mother left their home. He had never really shown her any affection, or made any special gesture toward her...
However, she did, and he rejected every single one of them.
His mother was a woman who thought more than she acted. He learnt that she was called the brightest witch of her generation, and now, John could finally agree. She wanted to teach her son about intellectual subjects; She showed him her thesis about runes, different potions or magical creatures that were, in her eyes, fascinating.
And John, the spoiled brat he was, never gave her any time. He never listened to her passionate talks about her work. He always ran away, pretending not to see the hurt in her eyes, or downright told her how it wasn't interesting at all.
And now that John had entered Hogwarts, he regretted every single time he didn't listen to her.
He was looked at like a nuisance, something he never truly felt before. He couldn't hide behind his father, or pretend the comments didn't hurt, because he now felt how much of a problem he was.
His quidditch skills and his money weren't there to protect him anymore. In every class he went in, he only obtained poor results. And worst of all, he found those classes so interesting. But his lack of preparation and the life he had didn't allow him to work and succeed.
And so, eaten alive by the thoughts that he was, in reality, a shitty person, he started to do what he did best — being a buffoon. He arrived late to classes, never did the homework until he was forced to, and made constant jokes. He could achieve the tasks he was given, but couldn't exceed the normal expectations. He made sure not to accomplish the spells he was given to learn, even if he knew some of them before even entering school.
It wasn't what he wanted to do at all, but it was the only thing he knew how to do, and the only way he could feel somewhat better. All the pain was hidden behind an unbreakable grin, the image of the clown shielding him from the negative thoughts.
But when he was alone, his smile would fall, his image would break, and sometimes, if one looked attentively, a lone tear could be noticed, before disappearing into the air, the only proof it ever existed being a stain on the floor for a few seconds, before also disappearing.
John Potter was someone he didn't want to be. For the sake of his image, he bullied a completely innocent muggleborn in his house, Hermione Granger. The house found it funny, and while the hurt in the girl's eyes was the same he had seen in Lily's eyes, his heart clenching every time, he continued, for the sake of existing. However, this time, he knew he went too far when she almost died because of him.
And so, he grieved in silence for the death that never occurred. His father, as well as Ron, kept telling him it wasn't his — their — fault, but John knew.
His thoughts wandered to the people who saved Granger from an inevitable death— the four Slytherins that the school had named 'The Pack.' They remained close by one another to the point where you immediately knew they all were there when you saw one.
They were Slytherins — evil, by his father's words. But John knew for a fact this wasn't true, at all. Not all Slytherins were evil.
Yes, Draco was another part of John's miserable life, but he didn't represent Slytherin in its entirety. After all, he didn't even hold the name of the house.
Unlike another student.
Hadrian Riddle, or Hadrian Slytherin Riddle, and finally, as it was written in the Book of Names, Hadrian Arthur Slytherin Riddle.
And, if Dumbledore didn't lie to him, the son of the Dark Lord.
And so, in the first few days of school, John, still blinded by his fame and what he considered his mentor's words, looked at the Riddle Heir as if he was going to kill a student in the middle of a corridor. However, days passed. And passed. And passed... And yet, nothing happened. Even more, Hadrian didn't want anything to happen. He never let anyone approach him, except for the friends he made in his own house, and never tried to rally allies.
John expected him to start creating an army. To gain the others' loyalty. And he really thought the boy did, when, after the first day, the other snakes looked at the first year as if he was Merlin.
But he dismissed them every time they tried to approach him. He glared daggers at every poor student that would dare sit around him. He never interacted with anyone beside the teachers and his friends, and he had yet to do something against the rules.
And when John understood the blue-eyed boy was not going to act like an evil git, he had started to look closer at the other first year.
Besides his looks, the first trait he attributed to him was arrogance. He radiated overconfidence, but if the rumours about him were right, then maybe he had a right to act so almighty. Everyone could say that, in the end, Hadrian's confidence was the same one John had. They couldn't be more far from the truth — Riddle's was completely real, while John's was a mask.
The second trait that was very specific to the Slytherin prodigy so far was how globally intelligent he was. There wasn't a single question he responded to incorrectly for the entire beginning of the year, except for a few master-like questions that the teachers liked to put in his test, and only his, to see if he'd know the response.
Usually, it was very easy to see if they did so. If he found the answer, he would wear a wider smirk than usual, and if not, he would frown for an entire hour. But it seemed like his friends were there for him, and the Potter heir almost envied how close the group was.
Neville Longbottom hated him with a passion, and he knew it perfectly. The Longbottom heir, raised like the proud pureblood he was, through and through, had not accepted in any way that his parents abandoned his brother while they were still kids. Sometimes, John still regretted deeply not being the other boy's friend. Had he not owned the title of Boy-Who-Lived, he was fully confident that Neville would have been the next Gryffindor leader.
He didn't know Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis enough to tell if they were somewhat good people, but he knew very well that they were very smart. When the Potter Heir used to go to parties with his parents, most of the time because his father used him to negotiate, he always noticed the two girls that looked very different, yet did everything in union. He could remember feeling uneasy when their gazes sometimes paused on him, frowning when they realised how much of a mess he was causing with his theatrics.
The group was cold to students that were not part of it. From what John managed to understand, all of them were loners before meeting on the Hogwarts Express, and had been completely inseparable since. It was as if they were all made for each other. When they were in their own little world, it seemed like everything stopped mattering to the group. They laughed and grinned, something that almost never occurred out of their discussions.
When together, Hadrian's smirk was playful instead of downright cruel, Neville's eyes were shining with amusement instead of coldly, Daphne's frowns were a way of controlling her laughter instead of controlling her disgust, and Tracey's grins looked hilarious instead of predatory.
They were being themselves, without any mask and without any comedy. They could just genuinely enjoy their time at Hogwarts, learning and having fun.
This was what the Potter heir wanted, too.
"Hey, mate!" called a voice from behind his door. "What are you doing? We're still waiting for you to play quidditch!"
John released an inaudible sigh.
"Coming!"
He opened the door with a laugh, a grin on his face. The only proof the intimate moment had existed was a single, round drop of water on the boy's desk, one that had disappeared before the two boys could even leave.
Quirrell was standing at the top of the astronomy tower, looking at the countryside as the sun started to show its first rays of light upon the castle.
This year was clearly not going the way he thought it was going to.
Firstly, the defences for the philosopher's stone were... most surprising. The teacher was honestly surprised to meet a giant cerberus on the path to the stone. It had stopped him in his tracks, as these creatures were known to be particularly aggressive when they smelled blood. A smell that, unfortunately, was more than present on him.
The troll he had unleashed upon Hogwarts had barely made a dent in the Headmaster's plan, even if it barely mattered at that point, since the great Albus Dumbledore had been too focused on an imaginary culprit.
Dumbledore thought the Dark Lord was looking for a way to come back to the spotlight. Maybe the most powerful Dark Lord the world had seen truly wanted to, but it was very obvious he didn't currently want to. If he had, Hadrian Riddle wouldn't have been a Hogwarts' student in the first place. Both he and the Headmaster knew perfectly that Voldemort was still alive, and that the Slytherin prodigy was his son. Maybe he could have passed as a Lestrange for how Dark he was, but the shining blue eye was enough to convince Quirinus that his father was far darker than even Bellatrix.
Quirrell was very lucky that the Riddle Heir was a student. Albus was so focused on preventing the innocent Hadrian from doing anything that he didn't see the signs of him searching for the stone. The DADA teacher even doubted the boy knew about the stone. He was knowledgeable, yes, but didn't seem aware of the current events in the school.
Though, the troll incident would maybe install a few doubts in the boy's head. And if he didn't, one of his friends would. It was just a matter of time, really, before one of them would understand that something was very wrong. The man had never seen such smart kids, and all of them had a gift most wizards didn't — common sense.
He laughed a bit, closing his eyes to focus on the sensation of the wind sliding over his face. The cold air meeting the warming charm he had placed over himself providing him a pleasant feeling of warm cheeks.
They would figure out he was a fraud, but they would never do anything about it. The Davis heiress had probably already figured out. The way she looked at him with narrowed eyes when his fake stuttering seemed to fade told him enough. Yet, they didn't seem to care the slightest.
Very, very lucky.
Quirrell needed that stone, and while he liked to think he had the time to acquire it, the pointy fangs that often brushed over his tongue told him an entirely different story.
Hermione gulped, looking at the Hogwarts Express as most families started to arrive.
The 'break' was finally over.
During said break, the girl had been sent to her parents by Professor McGonagall, who even came with her to deal more easily with the situation she was in. Both the teacher and the student knew that when they would tell what happened to the girl to her parents, they would immediately withdraw her from Hogwarts.
Her parents were both muggles. Obviously, to the girl, it didn't mean anything, but it certainly changed everything. They had already been scared of letting her go to Hogwarts — a school they would probably never have access to, would never see the walls, and would never see her in it. Now, hearing how their little girl could have died, they were bound to immediately cut her ties with the magical world.
McGonagall had proposed that they lie about the specifics of the event. After all, if Hermione's parents didn't know about how dangerous the creature was, or how it looked and what it could do, they would be more apprehensive. They didn't know what a pensieve was, and couldn't ask to see the memories.
But Hermione didn't lie. She never did, and never would.
She immediately asked for the pensieve to be used. She wanted her parents to understand how dangerous the magical world was, but also how awesome and fascinating it could become if Hermione started to finally unleash the potential every teacher knew she had.
And she had been right to do so. Her parents, as she predicted, immediately asked for her to be removed from the school when they saw the memory. Her father, especially, had been incredibly angry, and had he not seen kids beat a monster with their wand, and seen the wand in the teacher's hand, Hermione was sure he would have lunged at the deputy headmistress.
However, Hermione then continued to show the rest of her memories. Or, at least, the good ones. Potter and Weasly could go fuck themselves.
She showed her parents her first charms, transfiguration and other lessons. She even got McGonagall to transfigure one of their chairs into a dragon statue.
Of course, when their daughter showed both of her parents her puppy eyes and how passionate she was about magic, it became impossible for them to resist the pleas of their little princess. Hermione went to her room, pleased with herself, knowing she would see Hogwarts once more.
However, she was certainly not going to see it in the same point of view she did before. This time, she would be sorted elsewhere. McGonagall had seemed sad to learn that the little girl that would probably end up as her best student wanted to be resorted, but she could easily see why the bushy-haired teen wanted to find a new house. Gryffindor had treated her very poorly, after all, and the Head of House could blame herself for letting bullying pass under her nose.
But that resort deeply scared Hermione. Where should she end up? She knew very well what she could choose. The Hat wanted her to be a Slytherin, at the very beginning, before switching up to Ravenclaw when the girl mentioned she didn't want to end in the snake's pit. But now... Did she need to try one of those two houses, which were known for being filled with members of the Grey and Dark factions, or should she go to Hufflepuff, where she probably would have more chances of being easily accepted?hg
That was partially why she was stressed to go on the Hogwarts Express. She wanted to thank the group of Slytherins that had saved her and try to befriend them, as they seemed to have the same hobbies as she did. However, if she didn't, and ended up in Slytherin, she would be alone, again, as there was no way she was joining Malfoy's group.
The ex-Gryffindor scanned the platform with her eyes, searching for the group of students she knew would be together immediately.
And she didn't fail to see them.
Riddle, Greengrass, Longbottom, and Davis appeared in the middle of an empty space, with their trucks in their hands. Immediately, with a simple look at each other, they went toward the train, entering at the far back of the train, where Hermione knew the unofficial Slytherin compartments were situated.
She had understood fairly quickly during the break that, if she wanted to befriend purebloods, then she had to learn their traditions. She had already learned about a few of them, notably house-elves, which were the most bizarre subject for her, but otherwise, it seemed like they had pretty much stuck to medieval and nobility greetings. She had a few questions, of course, and planned on getting answers from them, but she knew she was far from enough in terms of documentation and research she needed to do.
She quickly followed after them, scared that they would lock themselves in a compartment before she could greet them.
She entered the train, just in time to see them disappear behind a door at the far end of the train. With a few quick-paced jumps, she arrived in front of the door, stopping her hand as she almost opened it. She needed to gather the bravery to open the door. Finally, she sighed, knowing she had nothing to lose, and knocked before entering.
However, it was too late. They never opened, and when she tried to open the door by herself, it was locked.
With a disappointed shake of head, she left.
"I can't believe you manage to always win in luck-related games," Daphne said in pure dejection, dropping her cards to the ground as she turned her head to the left, hoping she could ignore the smug grin the boy was wearing on her right.
"I can't believe it either. I don't know how you manage to cheat without getting caught, but trust me, when I'll find out, you won't ever hear the end of it," Tracey added, her glare directed at the winner of the game.
Neville just didn't say anything. If anything, he was glaring harder than Tracey was.
Hadrian was just grinning widely, collecting the murderous thoughts from his friends as if it was the most delicious meal. During the entire break, he had not lost at anything.
Well, except for a race. His so-called friends had insisted they run in a straight line for a few minutes, something the prodigy didn't quite succeed.
"I can't believe you are so weak physically," Neville had said with a wide grin that still haunted Hadrian's worst nightmares.
"How did you arrive last?" Tracey added.
"The strongest magical being, yet the weakest physical being. What a shame. Don't worry, Hadrian, we understand. Using one's brain is not a physical activity," Daphne finished.
He had hexed all of them, but they had truly deserved it. This race had caused too many problems to his pride — humiliation, and the promise from his friends that they would go running outside at least once a week. He protested in many ways, but he was outnumbered, and their parents had even joined in their argument, saying it was a marvellous idea.
His traitor of a father, and that undeserving witch that was Bellatrix, had even taken the opposite side when he complained to them through a letter. The eldest Riddle had said that being in top physical condition was mandatory for being a good duelist, and Bella had written that if he didn't run with his friends, then she would make him catch up on the physical training during the breaks. The boy had no choice but to give in.
However, in order to be able to run, Neville's parents had said they would need the right equipment.
"A duelist would never enter a ring without a wand! It's the exact same for runners, they just can't leave their house without sport clothes!"
"Then I don't want any."
But nobody had listened to him. He was still pretty vexed about that.
And thus started their expedition in the muggle world, Neville being already rather accustomed to that society, the girls being more than excited, and Hadrian sulking in the back of the group. Both the Longbottom and Greengrass parents had joined in. The children had no mundane clothes, except Neville, and had all dressed in expensive shirts, their acromantula's silk clothes being noticed by many people during the trip.
Posing as a mannequin had been long and painful for the boy ,especially considering how they wanted to make him wear such fool attires, but he gritted his teeth, and promised himself that he would surpass them in physical abilities too just to spite them. There were a few good parts to that trip, though.
Muggles seemed to have no shame. Hadrian would very honestly say that he had never seen more street fights in his life, and he had been absolutely delighted to observe how low they could sink. He didn't even have to pretend to hate them; they were truly brilliant when they started to use their teeth.
Even if the trip had been Hadrian's bane, it had been a fun experience to the rest of his friends. Daphne and Tracey were girls, especially pretty and petty girls, and had absolutely no shame in admitting so. Even their mother was the same. Which meant that, of course, even if muggle clothes were a lot less perfected than magical clothes, there was just too much variety of clothes to leave them be without being tried on. Lord Greengrass was brought into the whole mess, but after a sharp glare from his wife when he said he wasn't interested, he had given in to the girls' desires and had acted like a doll, much like Hadrian.
Neville had been more than happy watching from the sidelines, and laughing at both of the other males' misfortune. He already had muggle clothes, and didn't need more. He and his parents, however, made sure the group remained unapproachable. It was very obvious the group was rich and from an upper class of society. And since all of them carried, in some way, beauty or charisma, they knew they were going to be bothered.
They had defused by themselves the possible intruders' greetings, seeing every time the greed in their eyes. Neville couldn't believe it, but even a group of kids came to them, asking for what they called their 'phone numbers'. He shouldn't have been surprised, really, they were no different than Hogwarts students after all. Fortunately, through the power of lies and deceits, the dark blond-haired boy had always managed to get them to leave.
Very Slytherin of him.
Not Slytherin enough for Hadrian.
"I never cheat, but feel free to investigate," the boy merely stated, putting the rest of his cards into Neville's hands, who groaned. "We probably are almost at school, anyways."
"The rain is going to be truly annoying when we get off the train." Neville mentioned, looking at the heavy pour of rain outside through the window.
"How is it going to work, anyway? Do we have to take the boats all over again?" Tracey asked.
"No, apparently we are going to ride on carriages, Daphne answered.
And they did so a few minutes later. However, the animals that were pulling the carriages greatly interested Hadrian. Their black fur, almost hollow figure, and shining mane, as if the moon was reflecting it, could only catch his eye.
"They're beautiful," he said to the group, jumping into the carriage with a small smile, immediately placing a warming charm over his wet hair. The rest of his friends followed after him, and Tracey looked at him with wonder.
"The horses?"
"Thestrals," Neville responded. "Creatures that are only visible to people that have seen death."
"People that have seen death?" Daphne added, suddenly more interested. "Did you guys see death? I'm almost sure I didn't, yet I could see them." she completed, her chin resting on a few fingers of hers.
"It is a metaphor. Death isn't what you expect to see in children's fairy tales, but merely someone drawing his last breath." Hadrian said, a little smile on his face.
His three other friends had all lost a relative of theirs in the past years. For Neville, it was his grandmother, and to the girls, their grandfather.
"Then who did you lose?" Daphne asked.
The look of contempt when Hadrian said "nobody" was enough to convince them. As much as he was their friend, there still was a lot of mystery around him, after all.
They quickly arrived at Hogwarts, not that they noticed it in the first place. As usual, they talked, laughed, and joked about everything, forgetting the rest of the world as they remained in the tight bubble that was theirs. No student interrupted them during the entire walk to the Great Hall, just as they liked. It didn't take long for them to reach their house table, and sat at the far end of it.
"So, Neville, you said you wanted to bet on how long it would take for someone to try to befriend us again?" Tracey grinned, putting her hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I did, and I'm still up for the bet." The first year Slytherin said with a smirk, as he finished his drink. "I bet fifteen more seconds."
Tracey just softly laughed, closing her eyes. "Unlucky. I was going to say the same."
And, no less than 15 seconds later, someone approached them. It didn't take long for Daphne, Neville, and Tracey to recognise him, while Hadrian just purely ignored his presence.
"Greetings," Theodore Nott started, with a small, confident smirk that made Daphne frown. The boy seemed to notice her expression, and nodded to her, curiosity appearing in her bright blue eyes. "May I have a few seconds of your time?"
When Neville noticed Hadrian was not going to respond, as he was still spreading whatever was in his hand on a piece of bread, he answered. "Depends of what you want to tell us."
At that, Theodore simply grinned. "I just wanted to drop this," he said, removing a book from his pocket and placing it on the table.
The soft noise the visibly ancient book made while touching the table immediately caught the attention of Hadrian, who finally looked at the newcomer with narrowed eyes. Theodore could feel himself being analysed to his very core, but kept his smile on his face, nodding to the boy as if he had never greeted him before. Finally, the prodigy's eyes landed on the book, softly taking it with both of his hands, as if the small block of paper was a national treasure.
Daphne looked over the boy's shoulder, noticing how the title only was 'Memories.'
"What is that?" she asked.
"A book that directly comes from the library of the traditional mansion of the Notts." He paused, taking advantage of Hadrian, whose eyes had, once again, landed on him. "This was written by one of my great-great-grandfathers, with many other greats before it. It contains a lot of information about ancient times. You may not be aware of it, but my family is one of the oldest Britain has ever seen."
"This looks like a grimoire to me," Hadrian softly said. "If it belonged to your families for generations, why would you lend such a valuable item to me?"
"We both know what I want, Riddle." finished Theodore, almost laughing. "Plus, I know for a fact you'll be interested in what you will find. Good evening."
And with that final answer, he left toward his own group of friends, sitting down next to Malfoy.
"I'm pretty sure he wasn't on good terms with Malfoy last time we saw them." Neville said, a side glance directed toward the other boy.
"Seems like they got over their differences," Tracey stated.
Hadrian just shrugged, putting the book in his pocket, before continuing eating as if nothing had happened.