Thanks very much for all of the comments and love guys! I'm glad people are enjoying the beginning of the end haha
Please enjoy this next chapter - I have a feeling people will very much like the coming events!
On the morning of the first Saturday of February, Hadrian stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom. He held his shirt loosely in his left hand and turned to show his back to the smooth surface of the glass.
He tilted his head enough that he could study the deep scars that stretched across his pale skin, from the blade of his shoulder to the ridge of his opposite hip. There were four in total, all prominent, thick, knotted lines – but only two of them still shone pink.
The index and middle finger, the mediwitch had told him. The longest claws on a werewolf's hand.
Experimentally, Hadrian rolled his shoulders, watching how the muscles pulled and bunched under the simple movements. The light reflected off the two deepest slashes, making the skin appear glossy and new.
He had been assured that he was healed – that it was only a matter of time until the marks faded – and he had finally been cleared for exercise, which was a welcome relief.
"Ouch," his reflection commented with an exaggerated grimace.
"Shut up," Hadrian told it absently, already turning away. He carefully flipped his shirt around and pulled it on, one arm at a time. He left the bathroom, buttoning it up and ignoring the sour grumblings coming from the mirror that fell silent as he disappeared from its view.
Without the bandages acting as a buffer, the fabric rubbed against his back. He expected some discomfort, but other than a faint tingling there was nothing. No pain. No itching.
Hadrian smoothed his hand down his front, tucking the end of his shirt into his trousers and fastening his belt, then plucked his wool jacket from the back of his chair. The carriage was warm, the charms keeping the heat contained, but he knew that once he stepped outside the wind would cut right through him without the added layer.
He shrugged his jacket on and grabbed his scarf, eyes darting around as he did. His gaze stopped when he spotted the tome that Albert had returned to him a few days ago, the morning after their late-night chat in the common room. It had been a good read – nothing revolutionary, of course, but it had offered interesting perspectives on animagus transformations. Hadrian had stayed up last night finishing it.
He looped the scarf around his neck and picked the tome up on his way to the door.
As he stepped out of his room and into the hall, he hooked his heel on the edge of the door and tugged hard enough that it swung into place. Hadrian tapped the spine of the tome against his palm, frowning lightly as he made plans to find Albert at breakfast and give it back.
He entered the common area, only to halt in surprise.
Raina was leaning against the back of one of the lounges, dressed casually in a grey knitted sweater, a simple black skirt, and thick stockings. Her hair was down, spilling over her shoulders in soft dark waves and her eyes were fixed unseeingly on the wall.
"Raina?" he called, walking towards her.
His voice broke her reverie. She blinked a few times, attention refocussing, and smiled as she greeted him, "Hadrian. Good morning."
"Is everything okay?" he asked, coming to a stop beside her.
"Oh yes," she assured him, waving a hand through the air. "I just wanted to speak to you about something. I thought the walk up to the Great Hall would give us some privacy."
"Alright," he said, offering his arm.
Raina's smile widened, and she slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow. Together, they left the warm protection of the carriage and braved the cold morning air.
"What did you want to talk about?" Hadrian asked, burying his nose in his scarf.
Raina's hand gripped his arm, her body shifting closer as a particularly strong gust of wind hit them. "My father has finished with his trip to the Middle East – Oman, to be exact."
"Is he heading back to France?" he asked, watching her closely. Raina, though she loved her father dearly, rarely spoke of the man.
She nodded, "He said he should be back home by the end of the week." Her eyes met his, then darted away as she continued, "He might even come here for the third task."
"Ah," Hadrian said, for lack of anything else. "That's exciting. It would be nice for you to see him again."
"I think he would like to meet with you as well," Raina told him with a huff.
Hadrian blanched.
"Dear gods – why? He already hates me, I don't think another meeting will change anything on that front."
Raina sighed, rolling her eyes skyward at his dramatics. "For the last time, he does not hate you. And he wanted to meet you to discuss some things – such as you moving to our manor."
She coaxed him to a stop just as they reached the courtyard, turning to face him. "I reached out to him after we spoke and he's agreed to house you for as long as you need. But he said that he wanted to speak with you about it." Her dark eyes scanned him carefully, though Hadrian made sure to keep his face impassive.
"I only told him the bare minimum – that you had a difficult relationship with your mother and that things had come to a head recently. But he read between the lines, and he knows I have left out a lot of information. He wants to know why."
Hadrian looked away from her earnest gaze, staring at one of the snow-covered gargoyles. "How much should I tell him?" he asked her quietly.
"You do not need to tell him anything more than you are comfortable with," Raina said firmly. "He's already agreed to the arrangement, and he trusts me enough that he would not push. You can elaborate as much as you want, and if that means you say nothing at all, he will respect that."
Hadrian's mouth twisted into something that wanted to be a smile. "You don't want me to tell him about Riddle? About…his interest in me? It might be dangerous if he doesn't know."
"It would be equally dangerous if he did know," Raina countered, her voice calm. "My father is a smart man – he knows that sometimes ignorance is bliss. With this," she reached out to curl a hand around his forearm, where the brand was hidden beneath a glamour, "I think it's best he didn't know."
Hadrian released a heavy breath, tipping his head in agreement. "Thank you, darling," he told her, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to her temple. "Thank you for looking out for me."
Raina's cheeks flushed, her expression softening with affection. "Always."
They leaned against each other for a moment before Raina shivered. She tugged at him impatiently, "Alright, now let's get inside. This cold is ridiculous."
Hadrian chuckled, allowing himself to be pulled along. The heat from the Great Hall was definitely an improvement, and as they made their way towards where their friends sat, mingled amongst some Hogwarts students, Hadrian's hand skimmed down to squeeze Raina's in gratitude before they parted.
Albert was the first to notice their arrival, looking up from the books and rolls of parchment around him. "Morning," he greeted, the smile on his face wide enough to show his dimples.
Hadrian held out the tome to him with flourish.
"Finished it already?" the other asked, taking it and slotting it into the bag beside his hip. "Did you enjoy it?"
"It was good," Hadrian said, dropping into the seat across from him. Jacob gave him a quick smile, already being drawn back into his conversation with Hermione. Hadrian gestured at the stacks of books set in between his breakfast, "Studying today?"
Albert sighed, twirling his quill. His lips tightened in muted frustration, "Of course. Exams might be a few months away still, but it never hurts to start revising early, and with all of these assignments piling up, I want time to get myself in order. Not all of us are lucky enough to be exempt from the tests."
Hadrian snorted, reaching out to fill a glass with juice. "Let's not forget why I'm exempt," he said drily. "I think I have the short end of the stick here."
Albert tilted his head in acknowledgement, though his smile was amused. "Better you than me."
"Is it strange that I'm actually sad I won't have to take any exams?" Hadrian asked, swirling his glass and pursing his lips.
His friend scrunched his nose at him, and Claire brought her hand up to hide her chuckle. "You've been institutionalised," Albert declared in dismay.
"I like exams," Hadrian defended.
"No, you like getting your results back," Raina teased, leaning her chin on her hands. "Those of us that don't top our classes find exams tedious and annoying."
"Thank you, Raina," Albert said graciously.
"Well, I won't be topping them this year, will I? If I'm not taking any exams, I'm not really in the running, am I?" Hadrian said, taking a sip of his juice and running his tongue over his teeth at the sudden rush of flavour.
Claire leaned forward, "We all know where you rank in our year, Hadrian. Winning without you in the competition is like winning by default or forfeit. It would hardly be satisfying."
Hadrian snickered.
The sudden rattle of a fist meeting the table interrupted them. They all turned, drawn by the noise, and found a small cluster of students a little way down from their own group. Charles and William were in the mass too – and outnumbered. Hadrian clicked his tongue.
"Beauxbatons continually produces internationally ranked players," William argued, voice carrying, though thankfully it was even toned.
"That doesn't sound good," Albert murmured.
"What's happening?" Raina asked, and Draco, who had apparently been enjoying the debate until now, answered.
"They are arguing over which quidditch team is better – Hogwarts or Beauxbatons," he said with a bright spark of humour in his eyes.
"I thought Hogwarts didn't have an official school team. Isn't it only House teams?" Claire asked, puzzled. "You don't compete externally."
Draco nodded, crossing his arms and sitting forward. "True, but that hasn't stopped them," he jerked his chin towards the other group.
"I bet that any of our players could trump any of yours with their eyes closed," one Hogwarts boy crowed, oozing an obnoxious amount of smugness.
Charles seemed very close to snarling, and Hadrian made the mistake of meeting his eyes.
"Shit," he whispered.
The other boy lit up, turning back to his challenger with a fierce grin. "I'll take that bet. What do you say to a little mock-match? A team of your choosing against ours – we can put this nasty business to rest definitively."
"Uh oh," Raina sang under her breath, looking at Hadrian with wicked excitement. "I do hope you didn't have any solid plans for the day."
Hadrian sighed, putting his half-empty glass down. "It's the weekend. I woke up an hour ago," he groused.
"Hadrian!" Charles called out, moving towards him now that the gauntlet had been thrown. He sidled up behind Hadrian and carefully put his hands on his shoulders, dropping his chin on his head lightly. "I have something to ask –"
"Charles," Hadrian started, closing his eyes and ignoring the rising amusement of his friends. "I really don't think –"
"You have to!" the other protested. "I have staked Beauxbatons' honour on this! We need our best members to show these upstarts how real quidditch is played."
"Half our team is back in France," Hadrian pointed out, though he could feel the resignation settling in.
"So?" Charles scoffed, weaselling his way to sit between Raina and Hadrian. The girl shifted, clearly enjoying the scene they were making. "We have enough talent to fill the missing spots – Claire can take a chaser position, and I can be a beater." He slid closer, "And we have you, our legendary seeker. There is no way Hogwarts can beat us with you in the air."
"Contrary to popular opinions," Hadrian said, giving the other boy an admonishing glance, "the seeker isn't the most important position. I'm not the be-all and end-all of the team."
"But you have the power to end the match," Charles said, pointing at him. "Just let things go on long enough for us to trounce them, and then catch the snitch."
Hadrian shook his head, keeping his smile firmly in check. "You recall that I was grievously injured just a little while ago, yes?"
"You were saying just last night that you are cleared for exercise!" Charles exclaimed, laying his hand flat on the table.
"Exercise, Charles. Not a grudge match in a game renowned for its high injury rates."
The other leaned back, mouth pressed into a thin line. His eyes sharpened as he rushed to think of a new plan.
"I will owe you a favour," he declared gravely.
Hadrian smirked and said tauntingly, "My, my, how highly you think of yourself, Charles."
Charles glared at him, then reached forward to flick him on the hand. "You're being mean," he said, but his tone betrayed his humour.
"Oh, let's play," Claire said, her blue eyes dancing. "It will be fun – and it's been a long time since you got to fly, Hadrian."
He squinted at her, "Aren't you supposed to be on my side? What if I get hurt?"
"Then I will heal you," Claire said, utterly unbothered.
Hadrian huffed, then rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. If you can find some brooms – when and where?"
Charles tapped his hands on the table in victory, jumping to his feet. "In two hours, down by the lake. I'll find some brooms and get the others ready. Thank you!" He dashed off, William on his heels, their voices brimming with excitement.
Hadrian watched them go, shaking his head.
"Why are they not using the quidditch pitch?" Raina asked, drawing his attention back to their group.
Hermione hummed, "They would need permission to use the pitch – though I think it is off-limits at the moment anyway. It's easier to just have a mock-game out in the open."
"And the professors won't mind?" Jacob asked, taking a bite of his apple afterwards.
"So long as we don't play too roughly," Draco said, a goading smile on his face.
"'We'?" Hadrian echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Are you thinking of joining in, Malfoy?"
Those grey eyes were practically gleaming. "Worried you can't keep up, Evans?"
"Hardly," Hadrian replied, picking up a grape from the closest bowl and flicking it at the other. Draco swatted it from the air. "It's not my performance you need to worry about."
"Boys," Hermione sighed, brushing the grape off the table and into her hand. She dropped it on her plate and sent them both a scolding look. It quickly melted into concern though as she turned to Hadrian.
"Are you sure you'll be fine to play?"
Hadrian smiled at her, "Don't fret, Hermione. I'll be careful."
OoO
Raina used her hand to block the sun from her eyes as she stared up at the weaving figures flying above them.
She could make out Hadrian, circling lazily far higher than the rest of the players, slouching comfortably on his broom. She was glad he was out of the way, because the match was becoming quite vicious as the Hogwarts team scored another two goals. Claire, on the other hand, was a streak of gold and blue, ducking around the thick of the chaos with grace and a bubbling laugh.
"She is more into it than I was expecting," Hermione commented from where she was seated beside Raina.
Raina looked at the other girl. "Who – Claire? I suppose she does not look it, but quidditch is in her blood."
Hermione nodded slowly, her frown pensive. "Her grandmother, correct? You mentioned it once," she clarified when Raina looked surprised.
"Yes. Claire's grandmother was one of Beauxbatons' best quidditch players. Though she doesn't play it often herself, Claire is a natural on a broom."
Off to the side, Raina heard Jacob calling out in support. She almost rolled her eyes.
Hermione wrapped her arms tighter around her knees, sitting on a rock they had charmed to be warm. "It's nice to see them having fun," she observed, smiling slightly. Her eyes were fixed on her foster brother, filled with nothing but gentle affection.
Raina considered the other girl. Though they had spoken many times, they were not particularly close, which was a shame. Hermione was an intelligent girl, and Hadrian certainly seemed to enjoy her company ever since they had stumbled into each other.
"It is," Raina agreed, taking a seat next to the other. "I know Hadrian has been stressed about the tournament."
Hermione blew out a breath, dipping her head in agreement, "Draco too. Though given how the last task went, I can't blame either of them for being stressed. Hadrian especially. Accidents just seem to pile up around him, don't they?"
Raina's smile was thin and tight. She had her own thoughts on those 'accidents', after all.
"I'm worried what will happen in the next task," Hermione confessed, pressing her cheek against her knee. "I knew the tournament would be dangerous – the previous death rates weren't exactly encouraging – but I guess I was expecting a little more stability. Lucius told us that there would be more security measures put in, but somehow that didn't make me feel any better." A healthy dose of sarcasm coated the girl's words, and it almost startled a laugh out of Raina.
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching the match continue above them. Raina eyed the group of Durmstrang students on the other side of the unofficial field from them, but she was pleased to see Kaiser was not amongst them. The Durmstrang champion had been conspicuously absent except for classes over the last few weeks.
"Can I ask you something?"
Raina blinked, turning back to Hermione attentively.
The girl bit her lip, clearly struggling to voice what was on her mind, before she eventually burst. "Have you ever been to muggle France?"
"Of course," Raina said, confused. "A lot of our most famous landmarks are in muggle-dense areas, and I like to visit them when I have holidays. I find it refreshing in a lot of ways. My family is well known in our society, so the anonymity of walking down the streets, no one recognising me or my name, is fun."
Hermione was staring at the ground, her expression somehow both distressed and thoughtful at the same time. "I can barely remember the muggle world," she confessed, digging one of her boots into the snow.
Oh.
Raina smothered her wince, looking away so that Hermione would not see the pity that shot across her face. She had…forgotten the situation in Britain for a moment.
"Don't get me wrong," Hermione rushed to explain, as if worried how Raina would react, "I'm grateful to the Malfoys for taking me in. Lucius is strict but he has always been kind to me. Narcissa has been a wonderful mother, and Draco is –" she cut off, shoulders hunching. "I guess meeting you all, meeting Hadrian…it's just made me wonder how things would be if I had…if things were different."
Cautiously, Raina reached out to grip Hermione's hand. She did not know what to say. Could she even say anything? The society, the culture, the attitude in Britain towards muggleborns was so strange to her. She could not imagine being taken from her father and given to another family at an age where she could barely remember his face.
"If you wanted," Raina began, uncomfortable and uncertain how this would be received, "perhaps one day you could visit us in France? I would be happy to take you out – muggle Paris is beautiful, and is usually so busy. No one would notice two more faces in the crowd."
Hermione stilled, her expression blank for a long minute. Finally, something heartbreakingly young shone through, though it was quickly lost to trepidation. "I'm not sure I would be allowed," she murmured. "Not alone."
But the thought had burrowed into Raina's brain now. "Bring Draco with you then," she suggested, tightening her hold on Hermione's hand. "Bring him for a visit, and while you're there, we can go to muggle Paris together."
Hermione's eyes widened. "I don't think –"
"Would Draco try and stop you?" Raina asked.
"No!" Hermione exclaimed. "No, if anything he would…"
"He would what?"
Hermione looked like she wanted desperately to squirm. "He would want me to."
"Then what are you concerned about? You can bring Draco, and I'll bring Hadrian. He knows more about the muggle world than I do, he can be our guide." Raina studied her critically.
Hermione had tears in her eyes, but there was a stubbornness in the set of her jaw, a silent refusal to let them fall. She looked overwhelmed, she looked afraid, and that was never Raina's intention.
She leaned back, giving the other some space.
"If you ever want to," Raina told her softly, "just owl me. Okay?"
Hermione sniffed, nodding stiffly, and the bruising hold Raina's anger had had on her heart eased just a little.
A rousing cheer went up, and they both looked to see Hadrian hovering in the middle of the 'field', his hand raised victoriously. The snitch struggled weakly in his grasp.
Pride seared through Raina, only barely dampened by her disappointment at not seeing his win. She clapped gamely with the rest of the crowd though, happy for her friends.
Slowly, the players began to descend, and though the Hogwarts team was obviously displeased at their loss, there did not seem to be any real animosity.
Hadrian touched down on the ground, and his green eyes found Raina. A radiant grin erupted over his face, and he wiggled the snitch at her playfully.
"You know," Hermione said, her tone subdued from their conversation, "I have been wondering for a while now if you and he were together."
Raina jerked, twisting to look at the other. She coughed, shocked, and held her hands up in defence. "Oh, no," she said with a stilted laugh. "Hadrian is just my very good friend."
Hermione stared at her for a second, brown eyes searching, before she looked back to the approaching crowd. Though the voices were rising around them, Raina still heard her response easily.
"Draco is my very good friend too."
Then, without another word, the girl walked forward to meet her foster brother.
"Everything alright?" Hadrian asked, cutting through Raina's stupor as he came to a stop by her side.
She blinked rapidly. "Of course," she smiled, wrapping her arms around herself. "Congratulations on your win, by the way."
He ducked his head, visibly pleased, and Raina laughed as Claire came up to them, Jacob at her heels. Her blonde hair was loose from its ponytail, her face flushed from the stinging winds and the exertion. "We destroyed them," she declared, almost buzzing with excitement.
"You were glorious," Jacob pronounced, voice thick with pride. He slid an arm around her waist and kissed her temple.
Raina shook her head, glancing over in time to catch the soft smile Hadrian had on his face.
Like Claire, his cheeks were red from the match and his hair was windswept, falling into wild black waves around his face. There was a smudge of dirt along the bridge of his nose, and for some reason it made him look more like a boy than a young man.
"Something on my face?" he asked, once again pulling her from her thoughts. His expression was amused, his eyebrows raised inquiringly. Instead of being embarrassed by the gentle tease in his voice, Raina sniffed and looked away.
"You stink," she told him plainly. "Now that you have finished establishing your dominance, perhaps a shower is in order?"
"Your cruelty knows no bounds, darling," Hadrian told her, pressing a hand to his chest. Someone, a Hogwarts student, walked past to collect their brooms, and Hadrian handed his off without looking away from Raina. "I'm wounded."
"I am sure you will survive," Raina drawled. The crowd had begun to disperse now, students breaking off in clumps, still chattering excitedly about the match. Jacob and Claire had also started back, and Raina turned to follow them.
She should have known better.
A snowball smacked into the back of her head, exploding into a fluffy white cloud around her.
Raina stopped abruptly, her shoulders shooting up around her ears as her eyes clenched shut. Her jaw tightened when she heard a snicker.
Slowly, she relaxed, her fists uncurling at her sides, and pivoted to level her most unimpressed stare at Hadrian.
"You're dead," she declared flatly.
He smiled at her, downright sparkling with the force of his amusement.
"Promises, promises," he sang, bouncing on his toes.
Raina tugged her wand out, and Hadrian bolted, his laugh ringing out behind him.
OoO
Voldemort finished the last page of the report, then gently flicked it closed. He dropped the folder onto his desk, enjoying Lucius' subtle flinch at the sharp slap it made when it connected with the wooden surface.
He sat back, tapping a finger against his lips, and stared at the man.
"So, you have nothing."
Lucius did not grimace, but it was a close thing. He straightened, taking a breath before replying, "Unfortunately, my Lord. While we were able to trace the wolf's path through the forest there was no evidence that told of how it managed to get through the wards. Either the woman stumbled through before she transformed –"
"Or someone brought her in," Voldemort finished, displeasure marring his tone. He sighed through his nose, eyes narrowing as he thought. "And what do we know of her? There was nothing indicating where she came from? Was she registered in our system?" he asked, gesturing at the report.
Lucius' mouth tightened. "Our findings were limited, my Lord. No pack has come forward to claim her. There is the possibility that she wasn't even a British national."
Unless she had managed to sneak through the borders without declaring her status, Voldemort doubted it. More likely, no pack wanted to draw his wrath by being associated with her. It was a smart, if irritating, choice on their part.
"What else?"
"Greyback mentioned that she smelled feral when we brought him in to examine her," Lucius said promptly, his frown deepening. "He suspected that she had been without a pack for some time. Her mind would have deteriorated without the support other wolves would have provided."
He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then continued, "The healers did say that she was severely underweight, and that she had lingering signs of physical torture – though they admitted it was hard to tell the extent of it due to…the wounds inflicted on her during the task."
Voldemort's lips ticked upwards in amusement at the slight hesitation in Lucius' words.
While recalling the mess the second task had devolved into never failed to ignite his anger, a part of him could not help but thrum with delight. Hadrian had been magnificent that night, and despite his severe injuries, his victory over such a dangerous foe was commendable.
Not many wizards would fight a werewolf, fewer still would dare to do it without a wand. That Hadrian had done so, that he had killed it –
It just reaffirmed all of Voldemort's faith in him.
"My Lord?"
Voldemort focussed back on the other man, smoothing his warm pleasure away. "I want to know how she got through the wards, Lucius, and where she came from. She is the most concrete lead we have at the moment – find out what happened to her. Keep pushing until you get answers, reach out to the goblins if you have to."
Lucius folded into a low bow, "Of course, my Lord. I shall oversee things personally."
"Good," Voldemort murmured, reaching out for another stack of paper. "Now, how is the security for the third task coming along?"
"We have tripled the number of guards," Lucius said, pulling out his small leather-bound pocketbook, silver eyes darting over notes there. "Given the last two tasks, we thought it was best to increase the patrols and add in two new routes. As well as that, we will be including another set of wards around the duelling grounds. It means the three of them will be separated from the crowd by two different shields. It might slow reaction time if we need to interfere for whatever reason, but it also makes it impossible for an outsider to attack any of them before our guards can locate and subdue them."
Voldemort nodded, satisfied with the extra precautions. "Excellent. I want security to do daily checks on the quidditch pitch in the week running up to the task. We are not giving anyone a chance to sabotage this."
Lucius nodded, jotting down the orders silently.
Voldemort stood, moving to the cabinet by the window to pour himself a drink. As he did, his eyes drifted to the side, staring out at the white landscape.
No matter how often he was blessed with it, the sight of Hogwarts in the winter never failed to steal his breath. There was just something particularly stunning about the snow-covered castle, white stretching out for as far as he could see, and it eased a restless part of him.
Students were out and about as well, appreciating the freedom of the weekend, and being able to witness their simple joy was soothing in a way.
They had accomplished so much in the last decade, transforming their country from the fragility of post-war into something lasting. Those children below were the future of their society. Under the system he had created and refined they would grow so much stronger.
They were his legacy, and pride was too meek a word to describe what he felt when he looked at them.
He took a measured sip of his drink, and his attention was drawn to a rather large group of students making their way back towards the castle from the lower grounds. Some of them looked to be carrying broomsticks, and he almost smirked. He had never understood the obsession with quidditch, not even during his own years at Hogwarts, but he had always found the dedication and tenacity the players displayed for the sport to be beguiling in its own way.
He observed the group curiously, recognising most of their faces, even at this distance.
Draco Malfoy and his foster sister stood out the most, along with some of their year mates. A few he knew to be Beauxbatons' students, including Claire Daniau and Jacob Korin.
Which meant –
His gaze moved somewhat eagerly over the rest of the group, hunting; until he spotted a figure running up behind the others, movements slowed by the heavy layer of snow.
Hadrian twisted as he crested the hill, looking at something behind him, and caught a wave of snow to the face as a result. The boy was lifted clean off his feet and tossed back from the force of the spell. His fall would have been hard if not for the cushion provided by the thick white blanket covering the ground.
Amusingly, Hadrian sunk into it until not even his dark hair could be seen.
Barely a second passed before the boy was sitting up, shaking his head rigorously, and he looked ridiculous with clumps of snow clinging to his clothes and hair. With the strange new block between their bond, he could not feel Hadrian's emotions, and he found himself rather disappointed at that when the boy broke into laughter.
Moments later, Raina Séverin came into view, stalking towards Hadrian intently. She too had snow in her hair.
The girl came to a stop next to where Hadrian was sitting, her wand held in one hand while she gestured sharply with the other – a tirade if he had ever seen one. But her aggression was clearly a mask, poorly held together to hide her amusement, and the fondness between them was evident as Hadrian smiled up at her.
Voldemort's fingers tightened around his glass.
Hadrian finally sprang to his feet, patting himself down, before walking with his friend back towards the castle. He watched them until they left his line of sight, then abruptly turned away to instead stare at the fireplace.
If he dared to close his eyes, he could still see the way the boy had pressed up against him that day. Could remember the flush of his cheeks and still taste Hadrian on his lips.
The past weeks had been the sweetest kind of torment for him. Having the boy so close to him and yet completely out of his reach was an enticing dance, made even more charming by Hadrian's avoidance.
Ever since their kiss in the classroom, the boy had been remarkably elusive – seemingly vanishing into thin air between classes and meals, and he used his friends liberally to escape any attempts at getting him alone. For the most part, Voldemort had been content to allow the distance, knowing it would only be a matter of time before Hadrian came back to him.
But…perhaps it would not hurt to cast a net.
They had so much to discuss after all.
He smiled, a plan already forming in his mind.
"Lucius," he said, glancing at the man. "You may leave – I trust that you can handle things from here."
Looking rather grateful at the dismissal, Lucius bowed and bid a hasty retreat.
Voldemort let out a deep breath once the door closed. He considered the calendar on his desk, eyes skipping to a particular date, and his smile widened.
Hadrian seemed the type to appreciate a little effort. Voldemort was more than happy to oblige.
OoO
"Come on, come on," Sirius muttered, eyes squeezed shut and sweat beading his forehead.
His magic moved sluggishly, quivering under the strangling restraints of the wards, trying desperately to follow his commands. It took so much effort to even focus this small amount, but it finally billowed out, brushing against the intricate net that was cast over his room – and instantly snapped back into him. The backlash made him cry out, falling onto his back at what felt like a hammer slamming into his head.
He lay there panting heavily and squinting up at the stone ceiling.
"No luck, I take it?"
Sirius groaned, slowly rolling onto his side and closing his eyes as the vertigo hit him. "What do you think?" he grumbled, dragging himself to the wall so he could prop himself against it. He let his head fall back, still winded from the smackdown from the wards.
In the cell across the hall from him, Lily sat sullenly. Her hair was the only spot of colour in their dreary surroundings, but after a few days even its vibrant shade was beginning to look worn.
Pulling a leg up, Sirius draped his arm around his knee and clenched his jaw hard enough to ache.
They had woken up in this place almost a week ago – if the spacing between their meals meant anything – and his rage had yet to wane. It clawed at his insides, threatening to rip him open, growing more dangerous every minute that trickled by.
He felt like a tempest contained by paper walls, and he knew it was only a matter of time until he burst.
The only thing holding him together right now was Lily. Her voice grounded him, distracting him from his darkening thoughts, but even her calming presence could only do so much.
Sirius had to force his jaw to relax, curling his hands into fists instead.
He had not felt this helpless since he was fifteen.
"We have to get out of here," he whispered.
"We can't," Lily replied bitterly, her shoes scuffing against the floor as she shifted.
"We have to," Sirius snapped, head twisting to glare at her. "We have to warn Hadrian – we can't just sit here on our arses. We're running out of time. You know what they're planning."
"Yes," Lily hissed, "I do – but I also know that they can't do whatever they're planning without me. That buys us time to think and plan rather than try to bludgeon our way out of here."
Sirius scoffed, shaking his head, "It doesn't buy us jack shit, Lils. What's to stop Dumbledore from walking down here and making you do the ritual? What are we going to do then?"
Though he could tell the idea bothered her, Lily remained firm. "Brute force won't get you through the wards, Sirius. We have to do this carefully. If we rip through them, or trigger any secondary defences, we'll lose what little chance we have of getting out and stopping this. We're lucky they even put us down here together."
Sirius breathed harshly through his nose but made an effort to reign in his temper. They would never get free if they fought between themselves.
He pushed his hair back from his face and took a few moments. "Okay, okay. Do you have any ideas?"
Sirius moved so he was properly facing her, and Lily mirrored him. If he ignored the bars and the dimly lit space, he could almost pretend they were somewhere else about to discuss one of their assignments, like they had done years ago.
"Okay," Lily echoed, her elbows resting on her knees and leaning forward with her hands touching her chin. "How have you been attacking the wards so far?" she asked, green eyes glowing keenly.
OoO
The sun had long since set when they left the Great Hall after dinner.
Claire and Raina walked close to him as they made their way down the long hallway, their classmates chattering around them. The conversation washed over him, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth as he half-listened to the debate Jacob was having with Nathaniel.
"Evans!" a voice called out, and Hadrian came to a stop and turned, Raina and Claire half a step behind him.
He watched as a Hogwarts student ran towards him, her blond hair flapping around her face. He waited until she reached him, her breath punching out of her, and when she opened her mouth Hadrian held up his hand.
"Breathe first," he told her, amused. The flush on her cheeks darkened, more from embarrassment than exertion now.
"Sorry," she mumbled, holding out a slip of paper to him. "Professor Riddle asked me to give this to you."
Already intrigued, the name shot through Hadrian like a bolt of lightning. He took the folded note from her, apprehension and eagerness brewing in his gut, and thanked her absently. The girl – likely a first year from how tiny she was – nodded happily and ducked away to rejoin her friends.
Hadrian opened the note, staring at the blank parchment. He did not even have time to frown as ink rose to the surface, forming six simple words.
Friday. 7 o'clock, my office. Dinner.
"Arrogant bastard," Hadrian muttered, even as warmth spread through his chest.
"What does he want?" Raina asked, shifting her weight. Her question was packed with disapproval.
Hadrian closed the note and tucked it into his pocket self-consciously. He cleared his throat, "He asked to have dinner with me on Friday. Though 'asked' is a relative term. Demanded, more like."
He peeked at her and received an incredibly judgemental raised eyebrow. "Dinner?" she asked flatly.
"Not like that," Hadrian said, waving his hand. "He probably wants to talk about –" he tapped his forearm meaningfully. "I've been dodging him since our last…meeting. I doubt he's happy about that."
Raina's eyebrow rose higher.
"Stop that," Hadrian told her, stuffing his hands in his pockets defensively.
"A request for dinner," Claire mused, tipping her head to the side. "He formally asked you to dine with him. That is…significant."
Hadrian grimaced, "No, it's not."
"He sent you an official invitation," Raina pointed out, crossing her arms. "His wording might have been lacklustre, but it still counts. He wants to eat with you, privately, and given his previous interactions with you, that carries some implications, Hadrian."
"He's not courting me," Hadrian sighed, rolling his eyes, even as his cheeks began to feel hot.
"He's doing something," Raina replied archly.
Claire hummed, leaning into Raina's side, and asked with innocence practically dripping from her mouth, "Isn't Friday the day before Valentine's Day?"
Hadrian twitched, frantically counting the days – and winced.
"You mean the day dedicated to expressing love and admiration towards others?" Raina continued, because she had never let an opportunity to torment Hadrian slip her by.
"Or maybe he enjoys the more traditional celebration," Claire said, pretty lips pursed in thought. "Do they celebrate Lupercalia in Britain?"
Raina smiled, her teeth showing, and a smarter man might have run. Hadrian, unfortunately, was far too stubborn to listen to his self-preservation instincts.
Her voice was downright decadent when she spoke. "The holiday of violence, fertility and sex," she bit the last word out with relish. "I can see the appeal."
"Gods, shush," Hadrian hissed, stepping closer to them, because they were still out in the open. His glare was rather undone however by the red staining his cheeks. "He isn't – it isn't like that."
Raina and Claire shared a loaded look. "Right," Raina drawled, "he is just planning a dinner for the two of you on the eve of one of the most, hmm, romantic days of the year. And it means nothing."
Hadrian opened his mouth, closed it, then cut his losses. He turned around and quickly started walking away, the back of his neck burning at their insinuations and his stomach fluttering.
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