Harry Potter: Dark Lord, Loving Father
Chapter 11: Crimson Coloured
The sixth years' class went off without fail, much to Harry's pleasure, especially after his nightmares the night before. So, after dismissing his class, it was surprising to find Kaleb Smith staying behind, rather quite and withdrawn -- more so than usual, at least.
"Professor," he whispered, little more than a breath.
"Yes, Mr. Smith?" Harry replied, being as gentle but direct as possible with his Slytherin student.
"I was wondering if Professor Malfoy is as excellent at Potions as he's made out to be?" the young man asked, staring directly into Harry's eyes with his pale blue orbs. Those piercing eyes reminded Harry much of the night before, his nightmare.
"He most certainly is, Mr. Smith. May I ask you what you'll be requiring of him?" he questioned in return, searching for answers in those eyes, not going to far with his investigation, however, to be pulled into other memories, no matter how curious he was. Harry had gotten enough trouble with Snape before on this certain issue.
"I just wanted to know if he could give me a potion for my sleep," the tall boy stated, not giving much away in his voice, but Harry could tell what this was about. How he'd longed for some when he'd faced Voldemort those many years ago, but it was nothing nearly as bad as having problems with your own mother and father.
"Of course," Harry concurred, nodding his head slightly, backing the last of his things away for lunch. "I'll make sure to arrange something with him for you, Mr. Smith. Have a good weekend."
"Thank you, Professor," Kaleb replied, smiling slightly, leaving the room swiftly, no emotion betraying him.
This was a rather interesting turn of events for the Defence professor, to tell the truth of the matter. Draco was going to be shocked with the revelation that his most prized Slytherin student was also the most troubled, of sorts -- no one had expected such a thing of such a man as the Hufflepuff Head, Zacharias Smith....
The longing he'd felt the previous night was nothing compared to the seduction of the power Hadrian felt when his father introduced him to the art of killing a man when he was in the seventeenth winter of his life. The Killing Curse itself was wonderfully conceived: a brilliant arch of green came from his wand at last, striking his opponent to the snow-covered ground, a stunned look on his dark face.
"Hadrian, don't get too carried away," Salazar warned him with a hiss, his hands placed on his son's shoulders, who was getting to be nearly as tall as he was.
"I won't, Father," Hadrian replied, the twisted smile still etched into his expression, his green eyes dancing in the light reflected off of the snow, dully.
Corruption was slowly consuming the boy and Salazar was rather pleased with the progress they were making. It was just a few years ago that this young man was determined to kill his father, without much hesitation, until he found out the truth, of course. Now, the boy was beginning to see the reasoning of his father's action and implementing them himself. This encouraged Salazar to keep feeding his son information about spells and curses; soon, when Hadrian mastered a good portion of the spells that Salazar set out for him, he would begin to introduce potions and ultimately, some rather dark rituals to expand one's magic and make the boy much more powerful.
While Hadrian knew that his father had much more planned for him, he couldn't imagine what it might be that the Slytherin would have in store for him next. Was there something more interesting and powerful than the Killing Curse? Hadrian couldn't imagine what it would be, since ending someone's life was one of the worst sins a person could commit.
Over the next few years, Hadrian realized something important: the people that he was killing weren't innocents, not in the slightest -- they were evil, cruel men that stoned wizards and set fire to the wives and helpless children of rumoured wizards, among many other things that Hadrian and his father had witnessed in their life time. Muggles were often thoughtless people, barbarians, at the best, in Hadrian's opinion, from what he'd seen with his own eyes. They all deserved to be murdered and humiliated, cast into the flames of Hell.
Such a fiery rage overtook the young wizard on the days he and his father raided a muggle village, causing him to lash out and attack the every target in his range with such a passionate cry of some assorted curses, first. Slowly torturing them, his twisted grin distorted even further, thinking of nothing other than making these bastards suffer for their wrong-doings. Hadrian soon began to love the sight of blood pooling down at his feet, flowing from his victims, sometimes splattering his robes, staining them crimson over again, coating his face with the liquid.
After just a few minutes, nearly every Muggle in the village had become hunks of meat, strewn about with massive amounts of blood tarnishing the snow. Hadrian had become so covered in his death dance that even his dishevelled hair was sufficiently coated with enough blood to fill a child, his eyes beginning to take on an eerie glow that made him look much like a monster straight from Hades. Salazar was watching on the sidelines, his eyes narrowing when his son made his way into a hut that a man just a few years older than Hadrian had been guarding the entrance to.
However, before he could finish off every last one of the villagers, a small child whimpering in the corner, Salazar seized him, shaking him, making Hadrian come to his senses before he killed a true innocent.
"Hadrian!" Salazar barked, seething with anger. "What did this child do to deserve such wrath?"
Panting wildly, shaking himself, Hadrian wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve, examining it for a second, then directing his attention to his father. "Nothing; but it'll turn into a bloody monster, father! If we don't kill it now, it'll just end up murdering countless of our kind! We shan't allow it to even get a chance to even touch one of us!" he determined, fighting against his father's hold.
"You will not disobey me, boy," Slytherin hissed in a dangerous whisper, casting a spell to bind his son, taking away his wand forcefully, relentlessly. "This will be the end of these raids, for now, until you learn how to control yourself."
"I can control myself!" Hadrian protested, struggling a little, but knowing it was pointless to do so, giving up after a minute. He couldn't believe that his father was denying him the pleasure of slaughtering every last one of those bloody worthless creatures that Gryffindor had held up so high. After all, Salazar's sister had been a victim of those Muggles, burnt at the stake when he was just ten years old. Hadrian couldn't imagine how horrible it had felt for his father when he'd found out that his sister would never come back, all because of those Muggles!
Harry awoke, groaning, wanting nothing more than to be rid of these memories. It'd been a week of them, now, and he was beginning to wake up hating the world before the day had even begun. To him, it was just evidence that Hadrian was slowly overtaking him, becoming the more dominant force in him, too much, in Harry's opinion, but there wasn't much he could do about it, at this point.
"Good morning, Dad," Al greeted him from his doorway. "I thought it would be nice if we could go out and do something today? I don't feel much like going to Hogsmeade."
"What about Scorpius?" Harry wondered aloud, untangling himself from the sheets, managing to stand on the floor without incident. "Is he coming too, or has he gotten himself a girlfriend?"
"No, he's coming, don't worry," Al said, grinning widely, appearing to be up to something. "I don't think he'll ever manage to get a girlfriend, with the way that he is, obsessing over his homework and those books."
"Tell me, why the sudden urge to go out?"
"Oh, no particular reason," the Slytherin boy assured his father, still grinning innocently.
Rolling his eyes, Harry nodded, getting his robes together for the day ahead of him, soon dragging Albus down to the dungeons to meet with Draco and his son.
"Dad," Albus called, tugging on his father's sleeve, startling the man into the realm of the living again. "You were daydreaming again -- something to do with Professor Malfoy, perhaps?" he sniggered, smirking widely at the reaction he earned from Harry.
"You...!" Harry growled, after processing what his son just implied. "No respect for me, I see. Maybe I should just send you back to your mother."
"No!" he breathed, trying to distinguish if Harry was joking or not. "Really, please, don't?"
Harry turned to Al, smiling widely. "I won't, as long as you don't continue this bad behaviour of yours -- five points from Slytherin."
"But, we're not at school right now!" Al debated, scowling, looking to Scorpius, who shrugged.
"It doesn't excuse your actions, Mr. Potter," Draco drawled, smirking in return at the two boys, leaning against Harry, a little too close for comfort. "Don't you agree, Harry?"
"I thought you said you weren't interested in me, Malfoy," he accused, brushing off the hand from his shoulder, turning back to his son. "Fueling the rumours shouldn't be your goal -- after all, with the two of you hanging out together so much, the rumours are bound to get nasty."
Al nodded, but his characteristic grin quickly came back to his face, yanking Scorpius away from the adults, calling back over his shoulder, "We're going to get some ice cream, then!"
"We're not really going to get ice cream, are we," Scorpius stated, catching the look in his friend's eyes. He didn't need an answer to know that they were headed off to Knocturn Ally. "If we get caught, we're going to be in so much trouble," he muttered, having no choice but to follow Al, if just to make sure he didn't get into too much trouble.
The two wandered into Borgin and Burkes, Albus in awe at the dusty books and items surrounding him in the shop, the taller blonde peering around the shop, making sure nothing was out to get them first, before he let himself look for anything interesting.
"Hey, Scorp, I found something cool," Albus announced softly, waving over to his suspicious friend. He was flipping through an old book that had first caught his interest. "Take a look at this! It's ancient, but I think this is what we've been searching for."
"Which one?" Scorpius returned, raising his eyebrows at his friend, pushing his rectangular glasses up his thin nose, sneering at the state the text was in. ".... Histories?" he asked, reading as much of the title on the cover that was still legible.
"I think so, there's a bit here about the Cruciatus curse..." Al mumbled, pointing to it as he read along, squinting. "Some of this needs some restoration spells," he huffed, shutting the book carefully. "Find anything, yet?"
"No, I was too busy making sure that there was no one out to kill you, knowing who you are, after all," he told Al, sighing. "I suppose I'll take a gander."
Al held onto the book he'd already picked out, glancing at the other titles. "We'd better hurry up, if we don't want to get found out," he told Scorpius, coming up next to him, looking at the titles on the shelf before the two of them.
"Yeah, just let me find one -- it's not too often we get to come here, you know," he grumbled, spotting a red-leather cover that appeared to be rather intriguing. Pulling it down off the shelf after a bit of trouble, Scorpius blew the dust off, then quickly flipped through the pages. "This is it," he decided, taking the other book from Al, going up to the counter with the two books. They had this down by now: Scorpius paid for the books with both of their money, saying that they were for his father -- not suspicious at all, really.
The shop keeper didn't question the teenager, shrinking the two books for Scorpius after he'd paid for them in full, which he put in his inner robe pocket, thanking the man as he left.
Grinning at each other, the two made their way back to Diagon Ally, where they met back up with their fathers and continued their shopping. Harry could tell there was something off about the two boys, but couldn't quite pin it down, they were still well and unharmed, although they appeared much more content with themselves than before. He shrugged it off, putting it in the back of his mind to examine later that day. The boys' absence had been perfect to talk to Draco about something he'd been considering lately.
At dinner, things took on a much different turn, when Harry had interrupted Draco and Daphne's nightly conversation, just before Draco was going to turn the woman down once again.
"What was that you said?" Daphne Greengrass questioned, shocked more than anything else by the man's response to her inquiry.
"I'll volunteer to take his place this time, since he has become so very busy over the last few weeks, my dear," Hadrian purred in a deep, appealing draw, his lips drawn into a somewhat polite smile.
Still rather confused by the proposal, the Arithmacy professor nodded. "I suppose that it will be acceptable -- only two years ago, you must realize, Potter, I would never have imagined myself ever agreeing to do such a thing with you. Don't forget it, either. It's only because of Draco's wonderful influence that you've become so well adjusted to being a wizard in the first place."
"I'm pleased to lend my assistance in this matter, my dear lady," he replied, smirking at the reminder. "Draco has most certainly been a wonderful help with learning proper customs. I shall meet you by the lake tomorrow night, then, for the affair?"
"That will be just fine, Potter, but don't expect a warm welcome from the other guests," he warned, eyeing him closely.
Somewhat of a filler chapter, but it got some things done. I was having some trouble with out to begin, which scene I should start with: Hadrian, Daphne, or Kaleb. But once I decided and really started fleshing out these scenes, then tied them together, it wasn't so bad getting the rest of the chapter done. As for the rating change, I thought it would be best, seeing the direction that Hadrian's memories are taking, which will become a rather steady thing, throughout the next few chapters.
Thank you to Moogle (Boogum) and Grae (KouenTaisa) for being able to bounce some ideas off you both and getting some inspiration. Also, thanks to Ashbury Heights, The 69 Eyes, and Edge of Dawn for lending their musical talents to my inspiration-deprived mind. Finally, thank you to my reviewers -- the ever faithfuls and to my readers.
As always, questions are welcomed (and answered as quickly as I can manage) as well as some suggestions for the next chapters. Please review -- it's greatly appreciated.