The years passed by with no real events. Hadrian progressed as he was expected to, a real magical prodigy.
Potions seemed to get even better after Harry defended Severus' teaching methods. They worked through the other potions swiftly and then he found a doxy wing in his hands. Even if it wasn't for a potion, his tutor stood beside him and taught him the correct way to prepare them and quizzed him on the storage methods and charms that would affect the magical properties they needed. He also walked through the gardens with him, using his knowledge and the gardener to teach him two years worth of herbology knowledge in 6 months. By the time he was 9-years-old, he was being asked to brew the simpler potions they'd talked about.
"You mean it?" Hadrian beamed.
"Well, of course. You'll need to learn potions not taught in your curriculum to be of any use to the Dark Lord. Best start you off now if you hope to achieve anything."
He was still always stern and was quicker to reprimand his pupil for almost adding too many bats spleens than he was to praise him for anything he did. But Harry still improved. Whenever he brewed a potion without needing assistance, which admittedly didn't happen until he was almost 10, Severus would ruffle his hair affectionately. It was the only time he seemed to smile, like Harry was the only one who could make him smile.
Mastering spells were worse. After how well he'd performed the levitating charm, people expected many great things from him but it wasn't working as well. To begin with, Hadrian resigned himself to reading and rereading his spellbooks, wanting to pick up on all the theory and understanding everything before trying again. In theory, he could perform both first-and-second-year spells in all his subjects. Trying to cast spells didn't work for poor Hadrian, he was left feeling exhausted and couldn't leave his bed for a week after trying too hard. He just wanted to make his lord proud.
His father returned from a meeting with his lord on Harry's 8th birthday, shaking and seeming to be in pain. He asked Bellatrix to take Harry to Diagon Alley, having Ministry permission for Hadrian to have his wand early and the Dark Lord's suggestion that perhaps Harry wasn't performing magic any better because he just didn't have a wand to enhance his magic's focus. Harry pouted as he remembered asking his father about getting a wand the day before, and the week before, when he was told he was too young and he'd get a wand when he was ready. It made him feel less worried about what the Dark Lord had said or done to make him shake. It made his father see sense.
His mother was anxious about taking him outside. He was almost drowned in a travel cloak and couldn't see in front of himself. Knowing better than to protest, he let himself be led by his mother and waited for the relief of going home with his wand. There was a bell, and his mother helped him up a step into one of the shops lining the street. Hadrian went to move his hood, but her hand grabbed his wrist. It was getting too warm and claustrophobic under his cloak, but he tolerated it to give her peace of mind. Bellatrix conversed with an unfamiliar croaking voice before freeing him. He took a welcome breath of musky air and looked around. Boxes upon boxes of wands lined shelf after shelf all around the shop. Everywhere someone looked, there was a wand box.
"Let's get started, shall we?" An ancient wizard grinned, gathering boxes for Hadrian to try. It took half an hour to find a wand that didn't spark disaster when Hadrian waved it, but another unsuccessful half hour before the old man sighed. He looked into Hadrian's eyes, tilting his head and muttering to himself like a madman. People could say what they liked about the Dark Lord but at least he never spoke to himself like that. Then with a brief flick to gaze at his mother, Hadrian was handed a final wand.
"The core is phoenix feather. Interestingly, the phoenix in question only shed one other feather." The man frowned, "A powerful wand, in the hands of a powerful man. Capable of great things. Terrible, unthinkable, but great."
Hadrian recognised the look. The cloud that glazed over someone's eyes and the dull tone of their voice, trying to avoid feeling the fear thinking about the man usually inspired. After stumbling on Hadrian's 5th birthday, Draco was determined to do better. Every time he'd had a sleepover with Draco, the boys had snuck around to learn what being a Death Eater meant, knowing their legacy would be as the best followers their lord could hope for. It was how the Malfoy's talked about their lord's accomplishments in war, the way Lucius looked when he needed to see his lord. His lord had done terribly great things.
The wood felt warm in Harry's hand, and his eyes widened as his magic seemed to flow stronger in his blood. The sensation was unlike anything else he'd felt, or had he? The feel of magic, forming shape on his shoulders when he was 5. His lord's magic on his skin, almost too warm and tingling with danger. That was the last time he felt excited like this and once again he wondered when he'd get to see his lord again. Hopefully not until he learnt something new to show him.
"So, this wand is the Dark Lord's wand's brother? They share a core," his mother gaped. "It's a sign."
Harry didn't understand, but moments later his mother composed herself back to her pureblood stature. She paid for his wand and draped him in his travel cloak once more. One the way out, Hadrian pulled out enough courage to ask when he was being visited again. The plan was his 10th birthday, three weeks away. So he had three weeks to learn something impressive. Or as impressive as he could.
Not that it mattered, his lord never came.
"I'm sorry, Hadrian dear," his aunt frowned. "I know you've been working hard to impress him, but the raid came out of nowhere."
Harry nodded, showing only the slightest frown as a sign of his disappointment. "Is that why you're here watching me? Cos mother and father are with him?"
It was small comfort knowing they were there. His lord would be safe, because though his mother had never lost her temper with him, he'd seen what she could do to someone when she considered herself disrespected. And there was a reason his parents worked so well together. And with the Dark Lord beside them, he was sure they'd return. He didn't need his aunt's useless reassurances, there was a reason she was to stay with him.
"Plus, our Lord wanted me to discuss something with you. He feels it's time you learned the truth, about your role in our ranks."