The place where Professor Trelawney fell was unremarkable.
Hadrian had come alone. Dumbledore had a house-elf direct him to the spot while the Headmaster dealt with the Board of Directors and the Minister of Magic – both of whom were desperate for some explanation.
The floor had been cleaned meticulously, but the memory still lingered.
He knelt on the floor and brushed his fingers across the marble and immediately winced – he felt the impact of Trelawney's body as it hit the floor, he felt it as though the body was his own.
He moved slowly to the staircase as his eyes followed the echo of the late Professor's body, seeming to fall in reverse.
It required focus to do this – to see the memory play back, to follow it to it's beginning, rather than let it play out as it had when it happened – and Hadrian was sweating with the effort as he reached the 3rd floor.
There the memory of Trelawney's body stopped and swayed at the highest step, as though it was balanced on the edge. He held it there as he approached.
The late Professor was looking away from the stairs towards a corridor with a look of surprise and fear upon her face.
Hadrian allowed the memory to fade and vanish as he rested for a moment, sitting on the top step.
After a while he reached down to touch the spot where Trelawney had stood.
[He was walking late one night. Restless for some reason. Something didn't feel…right. He wasn't sure what.
[He wandered aimlessly through the halls of the castle and found himself climbing the Grand Staircase. What was he doing here? He never really came here. Maybe some higher power had brought him here, some calling of his inner-eye.
[He stood on the 3rd floor and looked down a corridor. There was something moving in the dark, but he couldn't work out what. He squinted to try to see more clearly through his glasses.
[He heard the echo of footsteps running down a corridor. Was that a student out of bed? He couldn't quite see?
[…What was that? Was it moving away from him, or towards him? It…wasn't human…was it a ghost? He couldn't decide. Then it came into the light.
[Eyes of death]
Hadrian lay across several stairs gasping for air.
He looked up into the corridor, now empty, and listened to the sound of wind flowing through the empty halls of the castle as he collected himself and reflected on what he had seen.
The last moments of Professor Trelawney.
A victim of the Basilisk.
"Let me ask you something, Hadrian"
In the headmaster's office, many hours later, Dumbledore and Hadrian sat together – Dumbledore behind his desk and Hadrian the other side – each had a cup of tea.
The day's excitement now behind them, the headmaster had decided to indulge his personal curiosity.
"Have you ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?"
Hadrian paused, his cup half-way to his lips, and pulled a face as though he had just eaten something sour. He very carefully and deliberately placed the cup down.
"That's a sensitive topic Professor."
Dumbledore waved his hand.
"Consider it a passing interest."
Hadrian eyed him suspiciously.
"I'll warn you, you wont find what you're looking for."
"And what do you suppose I'm looking for."
"Well, for some it is power, for others it's fame, but, I think you have enough of that already."
"Indeed"
Dumbledore sat back and stroked his beard, and watched the younger man with interest.
Hadrian continued.
"For you, for a man in your position, I would say you seek absolution."
The seer glanced towards Fawkes – the bird now napping on his perch - as he idly picked up his cup of tea and took a sip.
"I don't know what from - I'm sure I could see what if I really wanted to, but that would be rude and invasive, so I wont – but I imagine a man who achieved as much as you have, who has become as famous as you are, has many regrets."
He turned his gaze back to the headmaster.
"Perhaps you lost a lover once, or you feel guilt for the loss of a parent, or a sibling, and you want to make amends."
Hadrian sighed.
"Well, maybe. But I cant help you."
The seer drank from his cup again.
"Whatever my family once knew about the Deathly Hallows was lost hundreds of years ago. The Peverells went into hiding to escape the attention of those who would seek the Hallows. Marchmere burned and with it any records were lost. Nothing has been passed down through my family to me. I don't know where they are, or if they even existed in the first place. I cant help you."
"However…"
Dumbledore spoke after a moment of silence.
"…you could see, could you not? Would your visions be able to discover anything?"
Hadrian shook his head.
"Even if that were possible I wouldn't do it. I have no desire to know the history of Death Hallows. If they existed at all then they would be drenched in blood, and to see them, to look for them, I would have to subject myself to that history and witness it. I cannot do that Headmaster. I will not."
"Yes, of course. I would not ask it of you."
Dumbledore bowed his head in disappointment. Another dead-end after all. He looked up at the younger man.
"I hope you do not think too poorly of me for asking."
"It's not my place to judge you for your own past. I'm sure you have your reasons for seeking them, and I wont condemn you for it."
And Dumbledore smiled a wry smile.
"Then let us forget about that topic and move to another. Are you looking forward to your first lessons?"
Hadrian allowed his gaze to sweep across the assembled portraits as he gathered his thoughts.
"It'll be a challenge, I'm sure…"
Author's note: And so we come to the end of the arc. Thank you all for reading so far.
I have some ideas of...scenes (if nothing else) that I could add for future installment, and I would like to make this series but, as I said in the opening chapter, there's no long-term plan so I cant guarentee my intentions will come to anything.
I'm well aware that I've left a few mysteries with this AU but I have to work out where to take the story if I'm going to continue it. Rest assured, I will try if nothing else.