SURPRISE, SURPRISE I AM ALIVE. I know you might have thought that this story was dead and forgotten or perhaps that I was, but I am now here to generously inform you that I am not, and neither is this story. I apologise for the long wait and the dastardly lies that I have told you in the last chapter. To be honest real life got in the way of writing anything meaningful and so I decided to take a brief break… As you can see it didn't quite work out. (sheepish author noises). But now that I find my creativity once again on the imaginative tightrope that is a functioning mind (away from school and math and chemistry), I have found it easier to write once again. So I have brewed this chapter, for you my dear readers.

Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise probably isn't mine, I would give credit where it's due, but for the life of me I can't remember what is inspired by other authors or completely my own. Still, I might say that Harry Potter is JK Rowlings and I remain steadfast that I am not her.

Chapter 3:

On the way

1st September 1991

It was a sunny day, but inside the Charing Cross train station, it was hard to see that. Walking through the barrier between platforms nine and ten was something new to everybody no matter how magical of a family they were born into. So naturally it kept all eyes from the beautiful weather outside.

It just didn't happen all that often that anybody would walk through something that was supposed to be quite a solid piece of architecture and commonly was as well.

But today wasn't usual by any means.

It was the first day of the ninth month of the year. The 1. Of September. It was the day that any and every magical child, 11 years old, would take their first steps on the path of magical experience that would forever leave a deep footprint into every magical's very soul.

She opened her bleary eyes and looked at the red locomotive which stood before her in an almost discriminate way before closing them again and dousing herself in the hustle and bustle of the busy train station. Though the people who made up Magical Britain were small in numbers the fact that every one of the students in the premier school of magic in the whole of Europe used the same way of transportation made the magical platform very tight and uncomfortably hot.

She looked down at her smaller sister who was currently bawling her eyes out and hugged her. It was probably the most affectionate she had been in such a public setting but frankly, she didn't care one bit.

She loved her younger sibling more than anything else in the world and she had no plans of letting anything, least of all the loss of face get between her and her sister.

Nobody noticed but she too had tears in her eyes while she hugged her favourite person in the world.

"Come on don't cry. I will be back in no time at all and then it will already be time for you to come to Hogwarts with me." She said as she stopped hugging her sister and stepped away from the younger sibling.

The famous whistle sounded, marking the five minutes to the start of the ride.

"Go now dear and don't leave us hanging for too long! You, young lady, are required to write at least two times a week and I expect you to do it" her mother demanded of her."Now quickly! Otherwise, you'll miss the train!"

XOOOOOOOOX

When Daphne Greengrass, for that was her name, stepped onto the train she schooled her face (as well as an 11-year-old could), and a façade that nobody could see through was put into place.

She quickly moved through the wagons connected by various enchantments to make them walkable and let her eyes wander over the various occupants inside every compartment. It didn't quite fit into her head how all of them were already occupied.

She was coming into her first year and was in the last batch of wartime children. All of the upper years were also born during the war, and it wasn't as if a war was a big motivator to have so easily kidnappable babies.

But as it was, she walked through 3 wagons, and not a single compartment was empty. Since in her humble opinion anybody who walked through more than three wagons without finding a place to fit in seemed like an idiot, she decided to just knock on one and go in.

She stopped and eyed the different compartment doors. Three of them emitted loud voices and two were quiet. The last compartment in the wagon seemed like the best option since she could hear a quiet murmuring from inside. That indicated that inside were people who wished to not be heard much. Which obviously meant that they knew something of interest.

It just so happened that anybody who knew something of interest, interested Daphne very much.

She decided to try to listen in before entering the compartment herself since the conversation was surely to end when she stepped in. She pressed her ear against the door and waited intently for something to happen.

"I do not have the time to wait for your impotent minds to fail at doing their job!" sounded a rather young voice. She guessed it was a boy purely based on the sound of the screeching."Find it!" screamed the voice."I do not care one bit how you plan to do it! Blackmail or torture and obliviation! How your little inbred pea brains won't come up with such simple solutions to one's wishes is above me! Given that you seem to keep your head on your shoulder's just for petty decoration, I think it is time for you to take your leave."

The refined Queen's English that the boy, who she was now sure was indeed a boy, spoke had been lost to his rage and now she could hear a rather strong French accent.

The words the boy had spoken had sent shivers down her spine. It was chilling to hear somebody speak as if blackmail or torture weren't a big thing not to mention messing with one's mind so that they don't remember anything anymore.

The door burst open and two rather pale upperclassmen looking about in their fourth year emerged from the compartment. One with potato brown hair and a face that looked rather unintelligent and the other with dark, almost black hair with an expression of mild agitation aimed at the other boy. Both were noticeably coloured in green Hogwarts robes, which clearly meant they were Slytherin students.

"Hestia, please be a dear and close the door," said the, now again Queen's English, speaking voice in a tone that sounded like the last minute of the conversation hadn't happened at all.

"Mood swings much?"thoughtDaphnea bit alarmed about the sudden shift in the boy's tone.

Daphne found that now would be the perfect time to ask if they had free room in the compartment and she went to knock on the door, which had been left ajar but it seemed she had no need to do that, as the voice said in a sweet tone, that might have had some people crooning, but left Daphne with her hairs on their ends, "Oh, and of course invite our guest in. I believe she has been waiting for a while now."

The door was opened and the Greengrass heiress was greeted with the face of a pretty girl even by her own high standards. She was pale, her eyes were brown and held a certain wonder, which made her look younger than other first-years, her lips were painted red, and her hair was wavy and reached almost to her waist.

The girl Daphne remembered was called Hestia, looked somehow unnerving. She tilted her head to one side, eyed her for a moment, then fell to a small bow, which was held for a shorter time than was appropriate when meeting purebloods of higher birth. Then she spoke with an airy voice that reminded Daphne of a small blond girl she had met once at a party: "He is waiting for you."

Daphne Greengrass was confused. It was like a house elf or a loyal servant was speaking to her rather than a fairly beautiful young girl. It was eery how she turned around and grabbed Daphne's hand. It didn't look human, not one bit. The moves were stiff and rigid and Daphne noted that the girl looked like it was painful for her to be that far from the voice that had asked her even though it was just a few feet away, in the compartment.

When Hestia had gotten Daphne into the compartment she went right and sat across the other two inhabitants of the tiny room, which Daphne now noticed wasn't small at all. In fact, it was much bigger than the one side of the train wagon that it should fit in.

She turned her wandering gaze to the other two people in the wagon except for her and Hestia. She noticed that the second girl was the exact copy of the twin who had led her in.

"Now, Heiress Greengrass, if I am right about your identity of course, I am sure that Flora doesn't mind you staring. Neither of the twins ever will, but I certainly do mind. I prefer my ser- friends… unblemished by the improper looker's stares "sounded the boy's voice again and Daphne's eyes turned to him.

He was positively tiny. His legs couldn't even reach the floor of the compartment though the benches were quite low. He was paler than both of the girls. His loose, wavy hair reached his shoulders and the colour of it was as black as the night sky. His eyes were dark violet and they were unblinkingly watching her.

He wore a black beret, that had a violet feather attached to the side of it and a black waistcoat, that seemed to be made from acromantula silk with many golden buttons. He was also wearing a white jabot under the waistcoat with a reddish-pinkish stone decorating the upper part of was wearing black breeches and riding boots, that had heels which were a bit higher than expected.

His heart-shaped face was uncanny. It was too perfect and she thought that if he didn't blink she would have mistaken him for a human-sized porcelain doll. She despised him already. "Who are you?" questioned Daphne the rather rude remark about her being an "improper looker", whatever that meant, already grading her nerves.

XOOOOOOOOX

Hadrian almost sighed in relief. It seemed the Greengrass heiress hadn't caught his slip-up. He was really having a bad day, the floo travel had been terrible and he had coughed for almost a quarter of an hour after it. He had needed much assistance getting on to the train, his legs having been not working very well and the cane had only really gotten in the way. He knew only after a good night's rest would he be able to perform as needed, but at the moment he needed Hestia and Flora to assist him. He really hated how bloody useless his body was. At least his mind was sharp enough to socialise.

"Who are you?" came the question from the blond girl. "Oh, how improper of me!" He smiled feeling like doing anything but. I am Hadrian Corvus the heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble house of LeMort and secondary heir to the Moste Ancient and Noble house of Black. A pleasure," his voice was sweet though he tried to lessen the effect, otherwise the blond may find him to be condescending, he didn't need that. He came to Hogwarts for many reasons and networking was one of the most important ones though his sweet Mother's wishes were definitely more important in his mind. After all, family is the biggest treasure in this cursed world as his father is fond of saying.

Finding his thoughts wandering he brought his attention back to the heiress to one of the wealthiest families in the British Isles to find the admittedly pretty girl staring at him having her arm stretched out for an arm shake. He leaned as far as he could and took the proffered appendage. For a moment he thought that she might pull away but she didn't do that. The face she made, as if touching a rather slimy flobberworm, made his own mask falter for a second as he was quite tempted to make a comment about how her hand didn't feel like something to be touched either but he refrained.

"I don't suppose you are a muggleborn with the clothing you have but LeMort isn't a family that I know of. Are you halfblood?"

He was baffled. She didn't know of the LeMort family? And it seems she hadn't listened to him at all. She certainly knew of the Blacks it wasn't possible to not know of the Blacks. "Non, non, non! Simply not from here Miss Greengrass." He didn't like her at all, the way she looked at him as if he was below her. "Non she isn't fit to clean my shoes. It'd do her well to learn some manners" He was once again tempted to voice his thoughts, but he caught himself before he could. He was required to "make friends" his mother had said. That equated to alleys in his mind. And his father had told him to get well acquainted with his peers. Which was exactly the same thing his Mother had told him.

He was not going to let his parents down. He had heard that there was a saying that there's a first time for everything, but he was not going to allow for that to have its first time. "My mother does come from the Black line though I expect you know of her." He said, a spark of recognition igniting in the eyes of the Greengrass girl.

"Have you met Draco Malfoy already? He is your cousin if I am not wrong," came the question he had been pondering for some time already. For the life of him, he couldn't remember if the snotty boy had been his cousin or one of Minister Michel's annoying spawns. Either way, his mother hadn't talked with her sister a lot after moving to Belgium as such he and his aunt had only met thrice on the Black family Yule feast that occurs every three years and on the first one he had been only two and didn't remember that time.

The Black family's Yule feasts were probably his favourite holidays, they were exactly what a good Yule was supposed to be like. Curses were thrown between Aunt Walburga and Cygnus, sometimes even the Cruciatus. Aunt Narcissa would Talk with Mother about the latest fashion and Mother would ignore her to throw a curse herself at either Cygnus or Walburga depending on which one of them was more vicious. She usually tried to fling something at the more frantic one so she would have a higher chance of getting drawn into the duel herself. Then the two would ignore her and she would rise and go and sit beside Hadrian and his father.

Father usually just sat there, and nobody would try to mess with him. Mostly he talked with Arcturus about ICW's newest scandals and how the Wizengamot dealt with message distribution in the ministry buildings, currently, the debate was between flying folded paper pieces, called Interdepartmental Memos and charmed message boxes with little legs under them which had been named buisyboxes.

Hadrian remembered how his second attendance to the feast had gone. It had been normal, people mingling: Cassiopeia playing Wizard's chess with him, Mother and Aunt Narcissa talking about fashion, Arcturus and Father politicking and Walburga and Cygnus throwing a tantrum when a stray cutting curse had hit his Father's left shoulder.

XOOOOOOOOX

"Hey, Aunt Cassiopeia!" Hadrian had just gotten out when Cassiopeia looked at him sternly and said chidingly, though there was no real malice behind the words, "Hadrian, how many times have I told you to call me Aunty Cassy?" Hadrian was just about to joke to her in a mocking and babying tone that would have made his mother proud that she wasn't worthy of being called an Aunty and that Big Meany Hag would fit her better but didn't get to that when suddenly the room was enveloped in a very tense stillness.

He looked around for a bit to try and find the culprit behind the sudden lack of personality to the holiday celebration, and he quickly found his Father sitting in his comfy big armchair very still, with a piece of greasy chicken suspended on a fork in the air in front of his mouth. His shoulder had a large chunk removed and was bleeding profusely.

He was still for just a moment more and then he placed the piece of chicken in his mouth. With an eery calm, he started to chew, his expression at first blank, then a small smile tugged at the end of his lips, and then a grin started to form from the little tilt of the corners of the mouth. The grin kept growing and growing till it could no more and then he looked over the room.

Hadrian felt shivers going down his spine and a grin forming on his lips as well as on his Mother's lips. He knew what that look meant. He hadn't been on the receiving of this look many times, but when he had been he had started to understand why his father was the most powerful man on the Continent. It was spine-chilling. Absolutely terrifying to see a face that held no remorse for anything except him and Bellatrix perhaps and even that was dulled when his father gained that look. His father was a duelling champion as was his mother, and it was a testament to his prowess with his wand that in most of the duels between Morten and Bellatrix, Morten won. (Let it be known that when Hadrian thought of his Father as being the most powerful man on the continent, he didn't mean in the way of magic [though he couldn't have been any lower in that list than about 20th place either] but in the aspect of political power, which couldn't be overstated) So really Aunt Walburga or Cygnus, whomever it was that had thrown the spell, couldn't have chosen a worse place to send it.

The room darkened, the fire in the fireplace dimmed and suddenly all in the room felt rather cold at the sight of both, Cygnus and Walburga started to scream in agony as the skin on both of their shoulders seemingly started to boil and turn black. The sight was rather grotesque, but Hadrian had never shied away from magic and he didn't know either. When the first boiling blister on the skin of Walburga exploded it wasn't red, hot blood that came out but rather a swarm of tiny black spiders crawling from the very flesh of the two members of the Black family. As more blisters continued to burst more spiders continued to crawl out from the ever-increasing wounds on both of their shoulders. The spiders found their way to now upright, wand-waving and quietly muttering Morten, who still wore a grin exactly matching his wife and son. They started to crawl up from his still somehow pristine clothes to the gaping wound upon his shoulder and inside of it. The spiders kept coming until the gaping hole was filled, and the thousands of spiders compressed into a fleshy mass, which with the final spiders got an unblemished skin on top of it. Walburga and Cygnus had been screaming their throats hoarse and they continued to do so even after being drained from the spiders. They had a good reason too. Namely both their left shoulders now sported a similar-looking gash to the one previously on Morten's shoulder. The flesh had been as if the spiders had continued to eat their flesh and transported it to LeMort's shoulder. Now there were no spiders and all that was left was a bleeding hole that looked gray and almost decayed.

Morten sat down on his chair as if nothing had happened. Hadrian had been suitably awed at the display of LeMort family magic, but he did his best not to go right to his father and ask him to teach the spell. He was quite certain that it was a LeMort family magic, it was similar to other spells in the family grimoire. Not that Hadrian had read the book, only caught a glimpse once, he was still too young and honestly, he didn't believe he could perform the spells as they were intended to. There was a small chance in his mind that it could also be his Father's own invention, but he couldn't be certain.

So instead of going to his father and pleading with the man to teach him some dark and rather illegal curses, he decided to keep his grin in place and just sit down, which he noticed was a weird thing to do as he didn't, in fact, remember ever rising from his seat, and move his pieces on the board. "Pawn to G7!" He grinned even wider, which was admittedly quite a feat to manage as his lips were already aching before that from the extremely wide smile on them. "Checkmate Aunty. It seems you are going senile in your old age, or perhaps becoming forgetful…? Well either way you are getting old." The mocking words reached Cassiopeia's ears, and she turned to the previously unfinished game to inspect the situation with a scrutinizing glare. "Oh, bloody hell! You little crazy Grindylow spawn!" she exclaimed in a rather rude way in Hadrian's opinion, but he let it slide seeing as the woman's nephew and niece had just been manhandled by a rather enraged LeMort.

Hadrian's father had simply sat down once again and suggested Arcturus in a polite tone which still managed to carry thinly veiled sarcasm to "perhaps get these misérables crétins to Saint Mungo's oui?". To which Arcturus had responded by calling Kreacher, the cantankerous old thing that the Black family had for some reason appointed as a house elf. Though now that Hadrian thought about it maybe it was for the singular mind-boggling fact that the cretin was a cantankerous old bat that the Blacks had taken him in as a servant. The thought had its merits, and the more Hadrian pondered over it the more it occurred to him that that was probably exactly the reason why the vermine was in Arcturus's servitude. In his mind, it was a brilliant idea, and he resolved right then and there to only make bonds with completely bonkers, batshit insane house elves.

XOOOOOOOOX

"Yes, he happens to be my cousin, but we haven't met," sounded the answer to Daphne's question. "We'll have plenty of time doing so in the Common room." Daphne had already started to think that the boy had forgotten her query and was about to make a remarque about the misconduct when the Heir LeMort finally opened his mouth. "Now Hestia, could you be so kind as to show our guest a way out, I find myself fatigued." He raised his hand up for a handshake and Daphne went to shake it but was taken off guard by Hadrian turning her hand and pressing his lips against her knuckles. "I hope to see you there as well Heiress Greengrass," the boy offered smiling, though there was something sharp behind that smile and for a moment it appeared to Daphne as if there was a glint of red in those violet eyes of his.

Hestia, the same twin who had led her in now stood beside the door and held it open. Daphne decided that it wouldn't do to simply walk out and decided to exchange some last pleasantries. "It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance Heir LeMort, I hope we may continue in the same fashion as we have till now." He gave her a firm nod in acceptance of the silent challenge they both knew she had issued.

Right before exiting the compartment though the well-dressed boy called out to her for the last time. "It was indeed pleasant ma dame… and of course let us forget about that mishap before." The smile on his face was fake and it was no secret to anybody with functioning eyes.

XOOOOOOOOX

The rest of the train ride passed peacefully for Hadrian. Once a trolley lady who sold sweets for children passed by. Hadrian had quickly found that the lady also sold Blood Pops in addition to the childish Chocolate Frogs and Liquorice Wands. He was quick to replenish his supply of the blood-flavoured sweets but took nothing else unlike the Carrows who took as many as they could. Hadrian wasn't quite sure why he had this weird craving for the red sweets but he was sure it had something to do with Marius, that cantankerous old mutt.

He only countered one more obstacle before arriving at Hogwarts, namely a girl with buck teeth and a mane of brown bushy hair who was searching for a toad. She had introduced herself as one Hermione Granger, which had instigated Hadrian's cold behaviour against mudbloods. She hadn't been happy when he had refused to help her out. Why? He had no idea. It wasn't her problem in the first place when a "boy named Neville" had lost one. It wasn't as if a toad cost so much that one couldn't buy them many a piece.

Once the time came that the arrival in five was announced Hadrian stood his legs having rested the whole way and now back in normal condition were once again fit to walk. He had long ago decided that he wasn't going to wear the uniform of Hogwarts. This decision had been made easily. Of course, his mother had informed the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress of the fact as well. So it was that instead of the uniform usually worn he dawned a black robe on his usual clothes. He took his cane from Flora who had swapped her clothes with her sister beforehand and they exited the compartment.

Firs' years, firs' years called a booming voice over the platform and the three joined their fellow future classmates in looking at the giant of a man standing before them with an equally giant lantern. Hadrian couldn't stifle a giggle when the man almost tripped when a toad suddenly appeared before him. It seemed that the "boy named Neville" had found his slippery little friend. He scowled a the idea of owning a toad for any other purpose than potion ingredients, but he supposed he couldn't just take the toad and toss it into a cauldron though he so desperately wished he could. He just knew that he could use it while brewing Angel's Essence, a certain poison from the accurately titled "Poisons for any situation" from the LeMort family library.

"No mor' than four in a boat" called the giant who had introduced himself as Rubeus Hagrid. Hadrian found himself sitting in a boat with Hestia and Flora and a thin boy with a seemingly permanent scowl on his face.

They made no small talk while the boats slowly drifted forward. But The boy couldn't keep his façade quite up and even Hadrian had a difficult time doing so when they finally saw it.

Hogwarts was truly… magical.

A/N: So this is it for now, we'll see what comes in the next chapter. Feel free to criticise and fix my spelling mistakes. Once again I am not a native speaker so please be mindful of what you say about my not perfect English. This chapter was done over the months that I was wasting away in school so you may find some inconsistencies, please do mind them and inform me so I might mind them myself as well. I can't promise that there won't be another long pause but I will try not to sully my name more by being away for another year, perhaps a month or two.

But for now, I bid you adieu.