IT'S MAGIC
It is our birth-right, our gift – that which separates us from the filth and mongrels out there. Make no mistake; we are demigods….
The Disciple
Hogwarts, as Hadrian soon found out, was deliberately confusing and utterly made no sense. The stairs moved at the most inconvenient times, some doors were only doors at some time of the day, some led to nowhere at all or led you back to where you started. Some rooms would just decide to move on a whim.
Asking directions from the portraits often got you lost and then worst of all was Peeves, a poltergeist. Peeves was a menace and delighted in causing chaos wherever he went. He rather enjoyed tormenting the first years and Filch the caretaker.
Despite all these things Hadrian could quite confidently say that he loved the school. Everything was so new and wondrous, how had he gone about living without this for the past ten years? Learning magic proved to be better than he had imagined. For the first time he wasn't leaving his classroom bored out of his mind, not that the teachers would have let him mind you. He found that he enjoyed the variety that not only the lessons brought but the professors themselves.
"Now can someone tell me what charm magic is?" Professor Flitwick asked the first year class.
Immediately a hand shot up. The diminutive professor smiled in delight. "Yes, Miss Granger."
"A charm is a spell that adds certain properties to an object or individual, focusing on what an object does and not what it is; the charm does not change the object's essential nature." The girl recited.
Professor Flitwick clapped, delighted. "Take five points for Gryffindor miss Granger. That was book perfect."
Hermione flushed, pleased. They were in the Charms classroom, having their first charms class; a class shared by Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Hadrian liked the way the class was set up. Much like a theatre, the students were on one side, their seats and desks raised as you went towards the back. The seats wrapped around in a half circle, leaving a clear circular area, where their professor stood.
Professor Flitwick, was an excitable man, a laugh never far from his lips. He was also the Head of Ravenclaw, so Hadrian had met him beforehand when he had gone to collect his class schedule. The professor was also short, very short. Hadrian estimated the professor was only a bit taller than the average goblin. Still his stature did nothing to douse the professor's presence in the room, that plus the fact that he was standing on a stack of boxes.
"As miss Granger has said, charms change what an object does, not what it is. As such every time you cast a charm, your intent must always be very clear in your mind." The man raised his arm, his wand trailed in the air and he swiped it at a box off to his side.
A streak of light blurred forward and hit the box. The box shivered and shuddered before it expanded, growing in size. Another flick saw the box, now three times the original size, lift off the ground and hover in front of the professor – excited murmuring broke out amongst the students. Throughout all this the professor never stopped smiling. A negligent flick later and the box was back to normal and in its original position.
"Now that little demonstration is a bit complicated for you right now, so we will start with something simple. Lumos!" The professor splayed his hand out, palm face up and there in his palm rested a ball of light. Hadrian found himself smiling.
"Now class, I want you all to try and cast this spell, it is pretty handy and will help you get a feel for your magic. Remember what I said; intent. Keep your intention very clear in your mind." Flitwick made a grand sweeping gesture and the room dimmed, the many windows gaining a dark tint. Hadrian assumed it was to help them produce light easier.
Soon the room was full of murmurs and shouts, "Lumos!"
Hadrian was sitting between Anthony and Terry. Anthony jabbed his wand forward forcefully and shouted the incantation – his wand lit up, flaring brightly for a moment and let out a large bang.
With a startled yelp Anthony dropped his wand. The blond gave the piece of wood an accusing stare.
"Not so forcefully Mr Goldstein." The professor's words drifted up to them.
Terry snickered and got a glower from Anthony. "I'd like to see you do better Boot." Anthony challenged.
Terry smirked confidently and brought out his wand. With a flourish Terry cast the spell, "Lumos."
The tip of his wand glowed, it was fainter than the professor's demonstration, but it was steady.
"Good, good Mr. Boot. Now just add a bit more power to brighten it…." Professor Flitwick's voice drifted to them.
Terry frowned in concentration and slowly the light got brighter. Terry threw Anthony a smug look.
"Take five points Miss Granger, and you as well Mr. Boot."
Hadrian looked around the room and noticed that Hermione's wand was held aloft, its tip casting a soft light. She had a triumphant smirk on her face. Hermione was not the only one who had gotten the spell right, several people had their wands alight. He noticed that most of the Ravenclaws had cast the spell successfully, though he noticed that Padma would grimace and frown on occasion and her light would flicker briefly. Professor Flitwick seemed to have noticed too because he glided up to her on his box and murmured something only she could hear. Soon her wand stopped flickering. Neville seemed to have trouble with his wand; it was alternating between smoking and emitting sparks. Hadrian thought that looked rather dangerous.
"I've noticed that you haven't tried to cast the spell Mr Potter – is there a problem?" the professor popped out of nowhere to hover by their desk. Anthony cursed in surprise and his wand let out a bang and flash.
"Language Mr Goldstein." The small professor's eyes sparkled in amusement, before he then turned serious eyes to Hadrian.
Suddenly Hadrian could feel a lot of eyes on him. The professor's words had drawn attention to him, it made him feel uncomfortable.
"Well Mr. Potter? How may I help?" the small man asked, a gentle smile crinkling his eyes.
Hadrian flicked his eyes quickly around the room, curious and sometimes confused gazes met him. "Well – I – um I don't need help sir. I can already cast the spell." Hadrian pronounced.
The professor raised an eyebrow and for a moment Hadrian marvelled at how much curve and emotion the professor could put in his eyebrow. The professor gestured at him and Hadrian nodded. He felt a tremor of nervousness go through him. He had never done this in front of a lot of people, it was usually just him and Dudley.
Aware that everyone was looking at him now, he kept his eyes firmly on his professor and raised his hand, palm facing up. He felt the wand on his wrist holster grow warm and then he flexed his magic. There was a beat of silence before Professor Flitwick clapped his hands delighted.
"Well done Mr Potter. Take twenty points for your house, for casting the spell properly, wandlessly and silently."
Hadrian looked to his sides and noticed that his desk mates were looking at him dumfounded. The look was everywhere on the room and Hadrian felt self-conscious. He closed his hand and extinguished the spell. He sunk down into his seat and tried to ignore how Hermione's eyes were burning a hole into the side of his face. He tried his best to ignore the appraising looks of his classmates or the fact that Terry kept throwing him furtive looks.
The moment class ended, Hadrian was on his feet and out of the classroom quickly before anyone had a chance to talk to him. He had transfiguration and decided that he might as well be early. A few staircases and some twists and turns later and he was opening the door to the transfiguration classroom. He wasn't the first one there; the first year Hufflepuffs were all seated there. The moment he opened the door, conversation seemed to stop for a moment. Hadrian stared awkwardly at the other students. "Umm, hi?"
"Hello."
"Hiya."
"Hey."
Hadrian nodded and then, ignoring the stares and finger pointing, made his way to the back, the Hufflepuffs had taken up most of the front seats. He noticed a large grey cat sat imperiously at the desk and smirked.
Soon after his housemates entered the classroom. He noticed Padma look around before her eyes settled on him, Hadrian tensed as she purposefully made her way to his desk. Hadrian tried to shrink into his seat, hoping she would pass him by. She didn't. Padma stopped right in front of him.
"Is this seat taken?" she asked, her voice soft.
"No you can have it." Hadrian answered after a beat. There was no use being rude, Padma hadn't done anything wrong. Plus his aunt would give him an earful if she saw him being rude.
Padma murmured her thanks before she sat beside him.
"You forgot this." She placed his notebook in front of him.
Hadrian stared at it for a moment before he murmured his thanks. Padma nodded at him, seemingly unbothered by his attitude. He noticed that she was staring at the cat, rather intensely. Did she know, he wondered? Soon everyone was seated. A few of his fellow students looked around, looking for their professor.
"Where's McGonagall?" The question floated about the room.
The cat that had sat on the desk content and placid twitched and then stretched before with a single graceful leap, it jumped off the table. Midway, the cat shifted – fur melted and elongated into flowing robes, the tail shrunk into the body, and the whole body grew. Booted feet instead of paws landed on the stone floor with nary a sound.
"That was wicked!" one boy exclaimed.
"Thank you, Mr Smith, I aim to please." Professor McGonagall swept her eyes across the room. A few of the students fidgeted under her stare.
"Transfiguration. The changing of one object into another. The change of form." She waved her wand towards her desk and it shifted, growing fur and a dark mane. The desk turned lion opened its mouth showing gleaming teeth. She waved her wand again and it shifted into a monkey, before sprouting feathers and an ostrich was peering at them. A final wave saw the ostrich revert back to desk.
"Transfiguration is one of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn here. I expect you to follow my instructions or there will be consequences. I do not want to be the one to explain to your guardians why you turned yourself into a striped baboon." She cast stern eyes across the room as she said this.
A few of the students laughed but soon realized that she was not joking when the older witch did not so much as twitch.
"Open chapter one of your transfiguration textbook, we shall begin with the basics." McGonagall ordered.
In moments the class was learning theory and taking notes. Professor McGonagall encouraged questions, of which there were many. She was not against going back to explain a point a few times when someone did not understand.
Hadrian soon forgot his earlier misgivings from his Charms class. After a while the professor gave them each some matches and told them to try and turn one into a needle. A basic transfiguration spell and exercise. It was not going well. McGonagall went around the room checking on progress, but otherwise she remained silent.
"Damnit!" Padma cursed quietly for the umpteenth time next to Hadrian. He glanced at her sideways and noticed that a few strands of her hair had come loose from her braid. She was frowning at the match in front of her – the transfiguration had stopped halfway, leaving one side wood and the other a curious mix of metal and wood – the metal seemed to have grain in it. She turned to look at him and he quickly looked at back down at his book.
"Are you going to help me or keep pretending to read that book?" she said.
"I'm not pretending." He said sounding entirely unconvincing.
"Then why have you been on the same page for the last five minutes?" she looked pointedly at his transfiguration textbook.
"It's a good read…" he shrugged trying to act casual.
"Please Hadrian." She asked, turning to look at him fully.
He stared back at her and held her gaze. He found that her eyes had fleck and trails of gold among the brown, it was something he had never seen before.
"What makes you think I can even help? I haven't even tried to cast this spell…" he asked, leaning back.
"Exactly, just like back in charms class." She said like it was obvious.
"That was different, I've never cast this spell before." He pulled out his wand, the dark wood thrummed in his hand. He noticed her eyes flick to it for a few moments.
"I don't know, you seem rather confident to me, do you really want to disappoint a lady?" she spoke coyly.
Hadrian snorted, he couldn't help it. She grinned at him, her eyes shining. He pulled up a match, it was nothing special, just a random piece of wood. He ignored how Padma seemed to become more alert, leaning forward slightly.
He focused on the wood and in his mind supplied him what he knew. Once it was alive, supple, but now it was dry, brittle, yet far softer than metal. A needle was none of those things, it was cold were the wood was warm, where the wood was soft, the metal was hard, sharp, unfeeling. In his mind's eye he saw it change – becoming harder, stronger and gaining a silver sheen. With that image firmly in his mind, he cast the spell, pronouncing the incantation, and going through the motion that McGonagall had demonstrated.
"I knew it." Padma crowed triumphantly.
There on their shared desk was a needle.
"Huh, I guess you were right." He said looking at his needle critically.
"You sound surprised. Did you think you weren't going to do it?" she asked frowning.
"No, I had no reason to think I wouldn't get it." He said simply, he knew he could get it. What he didn't say was how easy it had felt. But he kept that thought to himself.
"So can you help me figure it out now?" Padma picked up her wand and pouted at him.
"Sure, I can give it a try." He gestured for her to cast the spell.
She took a breath and then cast – wand motion perfect and so was the incantation. Her spell stopped halfway through, giving her the same result. Hadrian frowned.
"It looks like you stopped halfway through." He commented.
Padma rolled her eyes and sighed, frustrated. "I know what it looks like, I don't know why it keeps happening. I did the movement right, said the spell and I visualized – but I keep getting that." She gestured to her malformed needle. Padma suddenly grimaced as if in pain and closed her eyes.
"Damn stupid match!"
Hadrian turned and saw a redhaired girl, Susan, if he remembered right, glaring at her match which was now a burnt piece of wood.
"Language Miss Bones." Professor McGonagall was quick to reprimand.
Susan had the grace to look contrite. Hadrian turned back to Padma – she was rubbing soothing circles across her temple.
"Are you okay?" Hadrian asked concerned.
"Hmm? Um, yea I am fine. It's just a small headache, that's all." Padma waved his concerns away.
"Doesn't really seem small. I could call the professor if you…" Hadrian offered.
"No, no." she said hurriedly, worriedly.
She took a deep breath, calming herself before she spoke again.
"I just need to do this spell, could you help me? How did you do it? Please?" Her eyes turned to him, imploring.
Hadrian looked at her, her eyes seemed to bore into him, pleading.
"Professor McGonagall said that the key is focus and imagination," he began. "Well, I just imagined what a needle is like – how it's different from a match. Needle is metal, so it is…"
"Stronger, tougher." She finished for him, she said seemingly coming to some epiphany. "So focus, I just have to keep that idea…"
"Image." He corrected.
She nodded and closed her eyes for a few minutes. When she opened them back again, gone was the playful look she had been sporting for most of their conversation. She once again raised her wand and then gestured to her match.
"Take ten points each, Miss Patil, Mr Potter." Professor McGonagall declared.
Padma beamed at him and Hadrian smiled back. The class ended with only the two Ravenclaws having succeeded at the transfiguration.
School quickly fell into a routine and Hadrian found that he could now pretend to ignore when people stared at him a bit too long or whispered as he passed. He certainly was not used to it – he doubted he ever would get used to being a celebrity – but he was slowly growing accustomed to it all.
He was enjoying his classes and the only bump in the road was the fact that Professor Snape, their Potions professor seemed to hate him for reasons Hadrian couldn't even begin to imagine. His first potions class, Snape had bombarded him with questions and mocked him for failing some of the answers. Throughout the lesson, even as he brewed his first ever potion, the professor had watched him like a hawk. Potions was quickly becoming his least favourite class.
Still despite his troubles in Potions, Hadrian was doing well in his classes, earning his teacher's praises and the admiration of his peers – mostly. He was in the Ravenclaw common room, doing his homework with Padma. After he had helped her back in Transfiguration class, the girl had stuck around and Hadrian didn't mind. She certainly did not seem to be in awe of him. The Indian Ravenclaw was also quite clever and had a wonderful perspective on things. The two often sat together in class and did their homework together.
"So Hogwarts was founded in 990AD, the Statute was instituted just over five hundred years after that…" Hadrian said, squinting his eyes at his history textbook.
"The year 1692 to be exact…" Padma was sitting across from him, chewing on her quill. Hadrian quickly jotted down the dates and waited for Padma to continue.
"The British Ministry was founded a few years after that, in 1707 and it replaced the Wizard's Council." Padma continued, her quill scratching at her parchment.
Hadrian nodded at that, the book said as much.
"What did the professor say we had to do again." Hadrian ignored how Padma rolled her eyes at him.
"I know what you are doing Potter, you want me to do all the work for you." She accused.
Hadrian grinned sheepishly. He stretched his arms up and sighed as he felt his bones pop. They had been working on their homework for a while now and had barely made any head way. The assignment was not even due for two weeks, but Padma had dragged him here.
"The quicker we get it done the more time to goof of you will have on your hands." She had said.
Yes she made sense, but his history texts were very dry reads. You would think reading about ancient battles and rebellions would be refreshing. But the authors had been determined to suck all the joy from the accounts.
"Alright maybe we can take a break…" she trailed off as she saw Hadrian perk up suddenly and look towards the open window.
A white form, glided in on silent wings. The bird alighted on Hadrian's raised arm and gave a soft hoot.
"I missed you too Hedwig. Do you have my letter for me?" he asked the bird. The bird let out a bark and raised its leg. Quickly, Hadrian untied the letter and started reading it. Padma noticed the bird turn its golden eyes to her.
She felt something brush against her perception and frowned. Hesitantly she raised her hand and held it to the bird. For a moment Hedwig did not move and merely stared at her. Padma was about to give it up as a lost cause before she felt Hedwig nudge her hand.
She gasped as something seemed to pass from Hedwig to her; she-child, friend-to-master. Padma smiled and trailed her fingers through the white plumage – the feathers were incredibly soft.
"Huh, that's strange." Hadrian was looking at her, focusing on her hand that was stroking Hedwig. His look was appraising and slightly suspicious. She felt his emotions flicker for a moment and withdrew her hand.
"What's strange?" she smiled as Hedwig barked at her, and Padma resumed her petting.
"Hedwig rarely lets people touch her. It took Dudley weeks before he could feed her without her trying to take a finger too." Hadrian chuckled as he remembered Dudley cursing up a storm after Hedwig had bitten him.
Padma laughed, her voice tinkling. "I'm just good with animals I guess." She could feel amusement flow into her from the white bird.
"What kind of owl is she?" she asked eyes still fixed on the bird.
Hedwig had tired at the girl's ministrations and was standing by her master, fixing her plumage.
"Hedwig? Oh, she's not an owl. She looks like it – but she's not." Hadrian smirked playfully.
Hedwig puffed herself up, looking proud and smug. Hadrian grinned up at his avian companion, "We haven't figured out what she is yet, but it's not like it really matters."
Padma nodded unsure. Hedwig really did not feel like any owl she had interacted with. The bird's emotions were too clear to her. Maybe it was because the bird was Hadrian's familiar.
"Hey you two, it's time for our flying lesson." Michael called out to them. The two nodded and in unspoken agreement went to change.
Soon enough the contingent of Ravenclaws joined their classmates outside in the field. The sun was out and it was warm, perfect weather for flying. Hadrian run a hand down the front of his tunic. It was made of cotton interwoven with a curious leather thread, making it both durable and flexible. His pants were the same and he was wearing his dragon leather boots. Most of his classmates were wearing something similar, though most of the girls seemed to favour shorter sleeves.
"It's about time you showed up Potter."
Hadrian turned when he heard the familiar drawl. "Draco, how have you been?" Hadrian said amicably. He noticed Ron glare from off to the side and gave him a shake of the head. The red head scowled and looked away.
Draco was flanked as usual by Crabbe and Goyle. Hadrian honestly had a hard time telling the two apart. They did not look the least bit similar but their general attitude just made their names so interchangeable.
"Don't you think it's pointless having all of us attend these lessons – just for the sake of some muggleborns who have never been on a broom before." Draco said, his voice loud and uncaring.
A few of the muggleborns heard him and glowered at the blonde boy but he ignored them with practised ease.
"I don't know about you Malfoy, but not all of us have actually been on a broom before." Padma commented lightly from Hadrian's side.
Draco seemed to only now notice Padma standing beside Hadrian.
"Patil." The slytherin forced a neutral tone
He gave her a curt nod. Hadrian had noticed that Draco was usually unafraid to voice his opinion on anything, except around some people, like Padma and Hadrian himself. He wondered why that was. A sharp whistle stopped his train of thought; it seemed their instructor had arrived.
Madam Hooch was in one word sharp; her features were hawk-like, with striking yellow eyes, pale grey hair and a slightly pointed face. She had them divide up into two rows and had them stand by their brooms. Hadrian noticed a few older students, one from each house, hovering around them.
"Now I know that many of you would like to believe that these lessons are pointless," her eyes seemed to pan around them. Many of the kids shirked away from her gaze.
"But while you may be able to fly a broom that is not all that you shall learn here. Flying lessons are only the beginning of your Physical class." She informed them.
Hadrian noticed that a few of the students frowned at that. Madam Hooch seemed to have sensed the discontent from some of her students.
"Do not take this class lightly, it plays a vital role in your magical growth, as you go through your First Maturity…" Madam Hooch stopped talking as a hand went up. She raised a curious eyebrow at being interrupted.
"Yes, you with the bushy hair." She pointed to a clunp of Gryffindors. A few of the Gryffindors snickered in the background but Hermione paid them no mind.
"Professor, what do you mean by Maturity?" Hermione asked, ignoring the whispers and mutters around her.
"Ah, I sometimes forget that not all of us are versed in Magi physiology." Madam Hooch nodded to herself before she snapped to attention and many of the kids found themselves following suit.
"Wizards and witches differ from our muggle counterparts in many ways, other than the obvious of course. On the onset of puberty, our magic undergoes a change – a jump of sorts you see." The professor explained.
"This is why Hogwarts starts admission at your ages and what not. This jump though means that at times your magic may act unstable and burst out of your control. You will also, in time, experience a drastic increase in your physical abilities. Now to help it settle you must help it along, by strengthening your body to better contain and handle your new growth." Madam Hooch continued.
Great, Hadrian thought, so basically puberty just got stranger.
"Does that answer your question miss Granger?" Hooch asked.
Hermione seemed full of new questions now. A few of the other students grumbled under their breaths. If Granger got to asking questions, they could very well be there all morning. Thankfully Hermione seemed satisfied for the time being.
Soon they were ready to try out their brooms. Hadrian's broom jumped up into his hand the moment he commanded it. He could feel it twitching, mirroring his own excitement.
"Now when I tell you to, mount your broom, kick hard and keeping your arms straight and firm on your broom maintain a four-foot hover. Ready?" Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Hadrian kicked off.
In that moment Hadrian knew he belonged in the air. He closed his eyes and luxuriated in the feel of the sun on his skin, the breeze tousling his hair. He could feel the firm wood under his hands, the brooms eagerness to ride the currents his mind could feel running all around him.
"AAH!"
"Longbottom!"
Hadrian snapped his eyes open. Neville was high up and had drifted away from everyone else. His broom was jerking and bucking, trying to throw him off. Hadrian didn't even think, tucking his body in close and pulling up, his broom shot off climbing towards his increasingly panicked friend.
"Go Harry!" Someone shouted over the wind and Neville saw him coming.
Neville hopeful and desperate made a mistake, he let one hand go off the handle and then the broom jerked harder, violently. For a moment, there was silence, the world held its breath and then someone screamed and Neville was falling.
Hadrian dived. The wind howled in his ears, pulling at his tunic, pressing it against his body. In the space between, pale blue eyes met verdant green and Neville splayed out a hand. Hadrian leaned against his broom and pushed and inch by agonising inch his hand came closer to Neville's.
Ten feet.
Eight feet.
Five feet.
Two feet.
Neville's hand clamped around his wrist and Hadrian jerked his broom upwards. There was a snap, Neville's feet dragged across the green and then a crack and the two were tumbling on the soft ground. Hadrian could taste grass and dirt in his mouth, his chest hurt and there was an annoying buzz in his ear.
Groaning, he flipped over. His vision was blurry but he could just make out a troop of feet running towards them. He looked to his side, Neville was beside him, his face streaked with grass and dirt.
"Neville, are you okay?" Hadrian asked breathless.
"Let's not do that again." Neville gasped out.
Hadrian couldn't help it, he laughed. It wasn't even funny but with all the adrenalin running through his system he couldn't do much.
*
"…reckless that's what you are. Did you even stop to think about what you were doing? Of course, you didn't." Professor McGonagall fumed.
"But aun – um I mean Professor…" Hadrian cringed when she glared at him.
Madam Pomfrey had cleared him – his injuries had only been a few scrapes after all and he had been given a paste for the light bruising on his stomach. Still his aunt was making a very compelling argument for his extended stay, her rant was giving him a headache.
Neville, a few beds away, gave him an apologetic look. The shy boy looked so forlorn. Hadrian gave him a reassuring smile before he turned back to listen to the deputy headmistress.
"Next time I expect you to exercise a little more caution, or to let those more qualified to handle such things. Do you hear me young man?" Professor McGonagall demanded.
"Yes auntie – professor." Hadrian nodded looking her in the eye, his gaze serious.
Her gaze softened and she offered him a soft smile. "I am proud of what you did Hadrian, it scared me half to death but I am proud. You didn't hesitate to help a friend."
Hadrian felt a swell of warmth bubble in his chest and he grinned back at her. She ruffled his hair before with a huff she left.
Madam Pomfrey soon discharged Neville and the two boys left the Hospital wing. On the way out, they bumped into Padma.
"Finally!" the girl exclaimed.
Neville paled at her sudden appearance; he was still jumpy after the incident.
"Sorry Neville that was really inconsiderate of me, surprising you like that." Padma looked apologetic, "How is your arm?"
The three of them started making their way towards the great hall, it was lunch time after all.
"Oh it's alright Padma," Neville looked at her shyly not meeting her eyes. Padma didn't seem to mind and offered him a smile. He blushed and looked away.
"Madam Pomfrey popped his arm back in, and she cleaned us up real nice." Hadrian held up his arms, he had gotten numerous minor cuts when he fell.
"Yea, she also checked my tendons." Neville added.
"Did she?" Padma looked at Neville appraisingly, a curious look in her eyes. "I wish I could have seen it."
"Trust me Padma, you didn't miss much, all we were doing was sitting there." Hadrian said dismissively. Padma rolled her eyes at him.
"Maybe you wouldn't find it interesting after the chewing out Professor McGonagall gave you…" she shot back at him.
Hadrian scratched the back of his head embarrassedly. "Oh you heard that, did you? How much…"
"Pretty much everything. I was waiting for you after all." She smiled sweetly at him.
"Oh," he looked at her strangely. "Thanks I guess."
She nodded at him and led the way into the hall. Hadrian as was becoming his habit ignored the many whispers that followed him. "Neville come sit with us." Padma cajoled.
Neville looked startled and looked at Padma wide eyed.
"After what happened, I know you could do with some company and most of the Gryffindors are gone." She explained.
She was right of course. The few Gryffs at the table were ones Neville was not really on speaking terms with. Neville looked at Padma and she gestured towards Hadrian who was already seated and waiting for them. With a shrug Neville decided not to overthink things and plopped himself beside his rescuer.
Breathe in, breath out. In, out. In, out.
Padma looked at her trembling fingers. She continued to control her breathing – she could feel her mind expanding and contracting with every inhale and exhale. Her magic brushed against the people in the tower below her.
Hungry. Tired. Irritated. Excited.
She could feel them all; a jumbled mess of emotion and impression – and she tried not to let it overtake her. Feel but do not let it consume you. Brush but do not give in. The words of her instructor played in her mind.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale.
Slowly her perception drew back around her, and the noise in her mind became fainter, a light buzz. She could still pick things up but only around a few meters around herself. She opened her eyes and found an amber gaze fixed on her.
"Hedwig."
The bird gave a soft hoot. Padma wasn't surprised to see her friend's familiar. The bird had found her one morning when she had been up on the tower meditating. Now most mornings the bird joined her, usually halfway through her morning exercises, the bird would fly up into her field of perception and just watch her. It had unnerved her the first time she had woken from her trance to find the bird staring at her – but now she welcomed the company.
She stood up, wincing at how stiff her legs had gotten. She shook off the sensation and looked down at the grounds. This high up, she could see for miles upon miles all around the castle. The mountains in the distance were hazy and blue, the lake glittered in the golden morning light, its depths dark and murky and the forest was dark and shrouded in mist.
"Hoot."
She looked at Hedwig and felt the bird reaching out to her. Hesitantly Padma opened herself to the connection and felt the avian mind flood her own with impressions. She-child. Friend-Master. Help. Master. It was a jumble of emotion and she could barely make any sense of it. Only one thing stuck out to her – a boy with green eyes, Hadrian. Hedwig withdrew from the contact and without any by-your-leave, the bird raised its wings and was gone.
Padma sighed, bringing her hand up to rub at her temple. She let her thoughts wander as she went down to the girl's dormitory. Connecting to Hedwig like that was odd, it was not painful, just disorienting – her human mind having to adjust to the avian. Still she got enough, the image of Hadrian was clear enough.
Something was wrong with her friend, else Hedwig would not have asked for her help. But this did present a problem; Hadrian was her friend, yes, but they had not known each other for long. Padma may have skimmed his emotions from time to time but she did not know how he would react to finding out that she could hold a conversation of sorts with his familiar.
Magi were very protective of their familiars. Another person trespassing into that bond could be taken as an attack and blood feuds had been started for less. She shook her head and let the warm water from the shower sooth her back. Hedwig had come to her though, so maybe it was alright?
Done with her shower and properly dressed, Padma went down to the common room. She had expected the whole gang to be there – they had made it a habit of going down to breakfast together. Finding Su standing there all alone waiting for her was unexpected.
"Where's everybody else?" Padma asked as they took the stairs out of the Ravenclaw tower.
"They left early, I waited so you wouldn't walk alone." Padma felt Su's emotions flicker. She had not been actively probing, but standing right beside the smaller girl, she didn't need to. Su wasn't telling her everything.
"Su, what happened?" Padma stopped and turned to the other girl.
The smaller girl looked at her in surprise, her dark eyes going wide. Padma felt her surprise but she ignored it and kept staring at her housemate. Su looked away, chewing on her bottom lip, debating.
"It's the boys, something happened – Terry was screaming his head off, Tony was hurt – bleeding. Michael was trying to calm everyone down." Su explained in a rush.
Padma faltered, she had not been expecting that.
"What about Hadrian?" she felt something twist when she saw Su's expression darken.
"He's the one who did it."
The wand felt warm beneath his arms, the dark wood rolled smoothly along his fingers. It distracted him, helped him not think about what had happened. His roommates had thankfully left a while ago.
He could still remember the way Terry had looked at him. Michael had tried to be apologetic but even he had kept his distance, the look never quite reaching the other boy's eyes. Anthony hadn't even bothered to look at him – not that Hadrian could blame the boy after what Hadrian had done. His wand grew warm under his hand and let out a spark.
"Ow!" The wand fell out of his arm, rolling on the floor to stop a few feet in front of him. Hadrian shook his hand, trying to get the sting out. He stared at the magical piece of wood. Great now even my own wand hates me.
He got up to pick it up, tensing, expecting the wand to sting him again and was surprised that it didn't. The wood felt cool in his hand and he quickly put it into his holster. It was then that he heard the voices on the other side of the door.
"…it is an unfortunate incident but it will have to go down into his records. Anything less would be a show of blatant favouritism."
Hadrian felt a chill go down his spine. That was the headmaster's voice – he had not had much interaction with the headmaster, other than seeing the celebrated wizard at the evening feasts. He had heard that the older students had a few classes with the old wizard – the man was quite busy apparently. Yet here he was in the hospital wing talking about him.
"I'm well aware of that Albus, but this is not as simple as a school yard duel between two wizards…." That was aunt Minnie's voice.
"I am aware, Minerva and it shall be treated with utmost care…." The Headmaster soothed.
Hadrian was startled when the door to the office was opened suddenly. He scrambled to his chair and tried to affect an unruffled air.
Madam Pomfrey entered her office and looked at him, her eyes searching his. She offered him a small but warm smile. He tried to smile back but it came out as a grimace.
"Hello Hadrian, you haven't had the best of mornings have you." The matron spoke kindly.
Hadrian grimaced and looked away from the Healer. There was an awkward silence, interspersed with the sound of shuffling paper.
"I didn't mean to hurt him – it was just – I didn't know what…" Hadrian sighed in frustration.
"Hadrian calm down," she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder and her felt an odd sort of calmness wash over him.
"You're not in any sort of trouble." she spoke placidly.
"But I heard…" He begun but she cut him off.
"Despite what you heard," the reprimand for eavesdropping was left unsaid. "You are not in trouble. We understand that it was an accident."
Hadrian sat back in his seat, and wrung his hands, twisting his digits.
"When they woke me up – it was like... I don't know – I couldn't…" he stopped and shook his head, he felt his eyes burn hot.
"Hey, listen to me. We don't have to talk about this now." She reassured.
He looked up at her in surprise. His eyes searched her own brown ones and found nothing but sincerity.
"It's a hard thing, talking about trauma. Nobody least of all me expects you to just be able to talk about it. It's a process that everyone has to go through. Do you get what I'm saying Hadrian?" she intoned gently.
Hadrian nodded, hesitantly, unsure.
"We will have to talk about it though, eventually. Because if we don't, then things like this will keep happening and I know you don't want that." She explained leaning back.
She rummaged through her desk drawers before she took out a simple black book.
"Hold this." She waved her wand over his hand and book. The book pulsed under his hand and he felt his own magic respond, rippling under the skin of his palm.
"This is a dream journal, I would like it if you to wrote down your dreams, your thoughts and impressions. Express yourself in that journal."
Hadrian looked at the small innocuous book, it suddenly felt heavy in his hand.
"Only you and anyone else you trust can read its pages – I've placed a charm on it. You don't have to worry about someone reading your intimate thoughts. I'm not forcing you to write in that, it's entirely up to you – but I can say that it at least helps me." She held up a small brown book for him to see.
Professor McGonagall was waiting for him, when he finally left the hospital wing. She stood tall and imperious, the students in the corridors giving her a wide berth. He noticed some of the students giving him appraising looks and whispering to one another. He grimaced, of course everyone probably knew what had happened.
"Come along then Harry." She said without preamble.
He looked up surprised, she rarely shortened his name, maybe he wasn't in that much trouble. He turned to say something and saw her already moving up the corridor, her pace brisk. He quickly ran to catch up with her. Walking beside her he shot her curious glances but she ignored him. Still, the walk was comfortable.
McGonagall's office was all dark wood, with book shelves set to the side and a fireplace opposite her large desk. He noticed a door leading away. But before he could ask about it, she was talking.
"I have some errands to run today and you will be coming along to help me."
"But what about my classes." Hadrian asked hesitantly. He honestly didn't feel like going to class and being the object of gossip, but still it was the principle of the matter wasn't it.
"Headmaster Dumbledore has agreed to suspend your classes for the day." She gave a lazy wave of her wand and she was holding a dark blue piece of cloth, a cloak in his size.
"Well?" she offered the cloak to him with a teasing smile and he couldn't help but grin back at her.
He quickly fastened his cloak and she hers – a dark green one that matched his own, and she pulled out a quill and held it out to him.
"What?" he peered at the quill confused. Did her errands require writing, was he going to be taking her notes, like some secretary?
"Hold on to the quill. It will take us to Diagon." She informed him.
"I'm having a hard time believing that a quill will take us to Diagon Alley." He gave her a sceptical look.
"It's called a portkey; it lets wizards travel long distances in mere moments. I will give you a book on it when we get back." She suppressed a smile when she saw his eyes light up at the prospect. Taking a firm hold of the quill and ignoring how ridiculous he must look, he turned to look at her.
"So how does it work?" He asked curious.
The grin she gave him almost made him jerk back in fear. Then he felt a sharp hook behind his navel and with a violent tug the world burst into light and swirling colours.
*
Hadrian cursed as he tumbled onto the grass. He rolled to a stop, his clothes stained with grass and dirt. He looked up and saw fluffy clouds on a backdrop of blue. Hadrian having spent the day travelling via portkeys had come to a realization – he hated portkeys.
The things were uncomfortable and disorienting; a whirlwind of light, sound and magic. This was second one and it had felt decidedly worse than the first which had taken them to the shopping district. A light chuckle drew his attention to his companion. She was standing before him, as immaculate as she always was, not even a scuff on her leather boots.
Huffing, he got up – ignoring the woozy feeling and slight churn in his stomach, he turned and looked around. Green rolling hills, golden fields and hamlets dotted the distance. The air tasted sweet and the sun felt warm on his skin.
"Where are we?" He spun around trying to take in the sights.
A distance away he could see a village, smoke winding up lazily from the chimneys – and he thought he could just faintly hear voices rising up on the breeze.
"Outside a village, in the southwest of France." His aunt answered.
She had already started walking down the winding path leading down. For a moment Hadrian did not know what to do and stared at her retreating back. Then realising she was getting away from him, he scrambled to catch up to her.
France! He had never left the country before and here he was casually strolling into a French village – well not quite, he amended. Professor McGonagall was veering away from the village. They were heading towards a small clump of trees.
"Umm auntie?" he asked but she only gave a distracted hum in response – her eyes and senses were searching around them.
"What are we doing here?" he tried again.
"Well I have a meeting, with an old friend of the Headmaster."
Hadrian frowned, her answer said much and very little at the same time. Knowing he wasn't going to get any answers soon, he settled for watching her. She was searching for something, her hands running over the rough tree trunks quickly and efficiently. Hadrian watched her not knowing what she was doing.
He looked around; all the trees looked the same to him. Maybe it had more to do with feel than touch. He placed a hand against a trunk and closed his eyes hoping to feel something. All he felt was the bark – rough and worn under his palm.
He was startled when she let out a triumphant shout. He quickly let go of the trunk. She was standing a few trees down, her hand tracing a symbol on the trunk – it looked familiar.
"Is that the rune for concealment?" He asked, surprised to see something like that in the middle of the woods.
He came closer, his eyes panning around and finally he could see – other trees were carved. They were spaced out and weren't always level, some higher up and others lower; forming some sort of diamond formation. He got closer, wanting to study it.
McGonagall took out something dark and smooth from the depths of her cloak, turning it face up she swiped it across the rune. The rune lit up and with it so did the others. He stared, captivated, as with a brief shimmer, a curtain they had not known was there fell away revealing a large cottage surrounded by a low wooden fence.
What truly surprised him though were the two people looking back at them. The woman was only a bit shorter than his aunt and her grey streaked dark hair made her look older. Yet her face had a timeless vigour to it – her easy smile hinting at youth. The man unsettled Hadrian – he was thin and his hair was a shocking white. His eyes were dark and glimmering; capped with large eyebrows. Hadrian tried not meet the man's dark gaze.
"It is so good to see you again Minerva." The woman's gaze quickly shifted to Hadrian and he found himself straightening up, trying to make a good impression. Something was telling him that these people were quite important.
"It's nice to see you as well Mrs. Flamel." His aunt replied, her tone ever polite.
"I see you brought a guest." The man's voice startled Hadrian. It was loud and gruff, not something he had expected for a man of his frame.
"Well boy, what is your name?" The man barked.
Hadrian shrunk back from the man's gaze; a heavy presence pressed against him and he felt his chest get tight and his breath come fast – he took a step back.
"Nicolas!" The woman's voice turned sharp and suddenly Hadrian could breathe easier and his eyes were no longer trapped in the abyss that was the man's gaze.
"I'm sorry for my husband's behaviour dear child. He forgets himself sometimes." She threw a heated glare at the man but he merely shrugged.
A comforting hand settled itself on his shoulder. He looked up and saw his aunt giving him a concerned look. Her hand felt warm and it dispelled the chill that had crept up on him.
"I will warn you once Mr. Flamel." McGonagall's words were sharp as barbs and her stare icy.
The man met her gaze and the two stared at each other. It was tense, until the older man looked away, something unsaid having passed between them.
Mrs. Flamel tried to keep the atmosphere warm, "Well ignoring that unpleasantness…" she gave Hadrian a warm smile, a contrast to her husband, "I'm Perenelle Flamel and that grouch over there is my husband, Nicolas."
"Oh, I'm um Hadrian. Hadrian Potter." Hadrian replied, the politeness drilled into him taking over automatically.
"It's nice to meet you Hadrian." Perenelle smiled.
He blinked. No surprise. No excitement. No gushing about how much they were thankful. His thoughts must have been clear on his face because Nicolas snorted.
"Did you expect us to grovel?" The man mocked.
"Nicolas!" Perenelle looked aghast. Hadrian felt himself becoming increasingly confused. Had he done something to the man? As far as he was aware this was the first time he had met the couple. So why was the man acting like Hadrian had stolen his treacle tart.
"…rian, Hadrian."
"What?" he cringed, that must have sounded rude. If Perenelle was offended she didn't let it show.
"I was asking if you would accompany me to the village – I have some shopping to do. We can leave the grownups to their oh so important meeting." She gestured to her husband and McGonagall who had since found a seat.
Nicolas grumbled something that Hadrian couldn't quite catch, but judging from the glare his wife shot him, Perenelle had heard him fine. McGonagall looked on amused at the by play between the couple. Hadrian looked at his aunt and she gave him an encouraging nod.
"Excellent!" Perenelle clapped her hands excitedly before she promptly grabbed Hadrian's arm and led him away.
It was only when the two were gone beyond the property line that the two sitting in the garden tuned to regard each other. "I had expected Albus to make the trip himself." Nicolas grunted out.
Minerva snorted, "You know how he is."
Nicolas grunted in acknowledgement. His old student liked his games.
"Why did you bring the child, that was beyond expectations." He complained.
"Was it? Perenelle didn't seem too surprised." Her eyes narrowed, accusing. The older man shrugged nonchalantly. He took a gulp of his drink.
"You know she has her talents – over the years I've learnt to just accept what she does. It certainly makes my life easier – I don't need the stress at my age." He barked out a laugh at his little joke.
"Now," he leaned forward, all trace of humour gone from his face, his eyes gleaming. "Let's talk about the stone…"
Padma, not having caught up to them before they entered that mornings class, finally got a chance to speak to Anthony in between classes. The golden haired Ravenclaw had been an object of intrigue during the lesson. The bandages wrapped around his shoulder and upper arm drawing much attention, despite being mostly hidden under his robes. She had noticed him wincing whenever he moved his arm, he must have dislocated it, she thought grimly.
"What happened?" She asked without preamble.
Anthony winced in remembrance; Michael sighed at her lack of tact. It was Terry though who answered – his face going red in anger and indignation.
"Potter is what happened – he went all crazy and just attacked..."
"For the last time, Terry, he didn't just attack, we startled him." Micheal sighed tiredly.
"Startled? We were waking him up for Merlin's sake…" Terry said in obvious disbelief.
"Yes, and he got startled, you heard him." irritation bled into Michael's voice. "Tell her Tony." Michael prompted the blonde boy who grimaced at the attention.
Padma noticed that the Ravenclaws had formed a loose circle; the other girls having joined in but remaining quiet. Beyond them she saw her other classmates, looking on and straining their ears. She ignored them and focused on Anthony. He seemed pained and reluctant.
She kept her face open and calm. She needed him to feel at ease and open up. She willed her thought and feeling to him. She noticed his shoulders easing, slumping.
She offered him what she was hoping was an encouraging smile. It seemed to do the trick because the injured boy started talking, his voice going low.
"Hadrian has nightmares, most nights…" his eyes flitted up looking over her shoulder before he continued. "We agreed not to talk about it, outside – but last night…" he looked unsure and glanced at Micheal.
Michael picked up the thread, his voice low, "It was bad, really bad. He was screaming and gasping and there was this voice."
The three boys shared a look and shuddered. "It was horrible. We tried to wake him and that's when it happened." Anthony continued, his voice halting.
Terry let out a scoff, and Padma turned to him. "The moment Tony touched him, he got blasted away like a ragdoll – crashed into a window; got all cut up. Your boyfriend is dangerous."
Padma glared at him so fiercely, Terry backed up, raising his arms in his defence. For a while nobody said anything, digesting what they had been told.
"It's October 31st." Morag said suddenly and several heads turned to look at her. Padma felt realization slam into her like a runaway bludger. She noticed her friends quickly come to the same conclusion.
"What, why does it matter? Terry started to ask.
"It's the day the war ended you idiot. The day You-Know-Who died." Lisa glared at him.
Terry quickly put two and two together. "Well damn…"
And that was all to it. What else could they say? It had been easy to forget; the last day of October, Samhain – the day most wizards in Europe honoured the dead. A lot of people had seen it as a sign; when the war ended on the particular day.
So as they had gotten up that morning, greeted with the fantastically dark decorations the castle was strewn in, it had been easy to forget. Today was the anniversary of the war's end – a time of celebration for most, but October 31st was also the day that made Hadrian so famous and the day that he watched his parents get killed right in front of him.
It was a subdued group of Ravenclaws that trooped into the Charms classroom. More than a few eyes followed them and noticed the absence of one of their number. Professor Flitwick quickly began the lesson, business as usual. Padma without her usual desk partner, Hadrian, elected to seat with Su.
The class was on levitation and Padma found it all a bore. She had practised this with Hadrian days before, excited at the chance to be able to lift things with a gesture. She smiled blandly as Professor Flitwick congratulated her on getting the spell on her first try. It wasn't her first try but it didn't matter. Her mind drifted to her wayward friend. Where was he?
"Wingardium Leviosa!" a boy, Ron Weasley, bellowed and jabbed his wand at his feather. The feather twitched momentarily before sitting still. She felt his frustration and frowned.
You're doing it wrong you idiot, she thought annoyed. She could feel his frustration and irritation. His feelings were such a contrast to the last time she had interacted with him; he had been beating Hadrian at chess, quite soundly infact.
"…if you're so smart why don't you give it a go then." Ron was saying and Padma noticed him glower at Granger.
The bushy haired Gryffindor huffed and raised her wand. A swish and flick, "Wingardium Leviosa."
The feather lifted off the desk easily and following the gestures from the young witch's wand. Granger threw Ron a smug smirk and the boy hunched down, embarrassed and angry.
Class ended soon after and Padma quickly made her way to the professor. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed her housemates waiting for her.
"Professor?"
"Yes, how can I help you miss Patil? Was it about the class? You did quite wonderfully I must say…" Professor Flitwick praised but Padma cut him off, not wanting him to go off tangent.
"It's about Hadrian actually," she bit her lip nervously. Professor Flitwick's eyes turned serious.
"I'm sure you are aware of what happened this morning – it's just well, he wasn't in any of the classes today. I was wondering if you knew – could you tell me where he is?" she held her books close to her chest.
Professor Flitwick let out a tired sigh. "Ah yes, that was rather unfortunate," his eyes flicked to something, someone behind her, before he was looking back at her.
"Considering the day though, it is not all that surprising," his eyes took on a faraway look, shadowed by memories. "In any case," he said coming back to himself. "Mr Potter is quite alright; I'm told he is running errands with Professor McGonagall." He nodded, satisfied with his response and turned away and busied himself with his desk.
Padma took that as her dismissal and after thanking the professor, left. He barely acknowledged her departure. With a quick look to her friends that clearly said, "tell you later." The Ravenclaws went out to the courtyard.
"I didn't ask for your help, I was perfectly fine as I was. I didn't bloody well want a know-it-all telling me what to do." Ron's face was red like his hair, glaring daggers at Hermione Granger.
The girl had a stubborn tilt to her head, her nostrils flared; though her eyes were suspiciously moist. "You were doing it wrong; I was just showing…"
"What you were doing was butting your head where it didn't belong. No wonder you don't have any friends." the courtyard fell quiet at that. Ron seemed to have realized that he might have gone too far.
Hermione looked at him hurt and angry, her lip trembled. Padma saw a single tear fall down to the worn stones at their feet.
"You-you-you arse!" There was a flare of magic and snap. Hermione turned on her heel and fled, her sobs catching on the wind. For a moment the courtyard was silent everyone either looking at the direction the distraught girl had disappeared to or to Ron who stood there, his hands on his head, specifically his ears.
"Well I think the donkey ears get the point across." Terry said ever tactful, nodding to himself.
As if his words were the cue, people began laughing at the redhead. Good, he deserves that, Padma thought with a certain sense of satisfaction. She looked back to where Hermione had disappeared to, she hoped the other girl would be okay.
Going through the village was a surreal experience for Hadrian, and not because it was one of the few fully magical communities around. No, the village, apart from a few odd things here and there, was quite normal; his feelings were all rooted in one individual, Perenelle Flamel.
Before they had entered the village proper, the woman had pulled a wand from somewhere and quickly jabbed it at his face. He had jumped back, scared that she had attacked him. That fear had immediately turned to terror when he felt his face shifting.
"Relax, don't fight it." She had insisted.
Against his better judgment he listened to her and tried to force his heart to slow. The shifting on his face went from slightly painful to uncomfortable and itchy. When it finally settled, he brought his hands to his face and felt it. It was different.
"Here, take a look."
He looked up and found a large mirror floating before him. Ignoring the advanced magic, he looked at himself. His eyes were blue, spaced apart just that little more, his cheeks had sunk in a bit, his skin was a healthy peach and his hair was longer and blond. He almost looked like Dudley! He turned to her aghast, "What did you do?"
"It's a slight transfiguration-illusion hybrid. A glamour." She enlightened him.
"Slight!" he pulled at his hair; the gold strands flickered turning darker.
"Ah ah." She chided and batted his hands away. "Don't do that, you'll unravel the glamour. It's hard enough as it is maintaining it – your magic was fighting me all the way." She gave him a discomfited look.
Hadrian looked at her confused, the question clear on his face. Perenelle sighed.
"It's so that you don't get recognized. Aren't you supposed to be smart?" she smirked cheekily at him, his glare having no effect.
"Why couldn't you just fashion me a hat, it hides my scar. It worked last time." He grumbled.
"British wizards are so gullible, plus this is better." She started walking away, a pep to her step.
Hadrian had no choice but to follow her lest he get lost. Soon they were lost in their grocery run, Hadrian acting like the polite young man he was raised to be, and carrying all the shopping. It was a good thing that the shopping basket was charmed to be lightweight, because Perenelle had a lot of shopping to do.
To Hadrian, her interests seemed rather random; one minute they were buying some strange hairy fruit and the next they were buying strange stones.
"So what are illusions? What branch is it under?" Hadrian asked, when they took a small break.
They were sat at a small outdoor cafe. He looked at the éclair in front of him; the tasty treat was full of cream and glistened in the afternoon sun. Aunt Petunia would never let him have something like this a few hours before supper. Tempted, he bit into it and let out a pleased moan. Perenelle laughed at him; taking a napkin, she wiped his cream stained nose. He smiled sheepishly.
"Well most people class illusions under Charms…" she began.
"Are they?" Hadrian turned his stare to her, his eyes darkening with curiosity.
Her smile turned thoughtful, "Well they are charms of a sort but it is not always so clear. A good foundation in charms is always good for when you start to learn how to cast illusions."
"But it's not always necessary right?" Hadrian prodded eagerly.
"True, it's not. But that doesn't mean you can go about trying them out willy nilly." Her stare turned heavy and Hadrian turned away uncomfortable.
"So what would you say is your favourite subject?" Perenelle asked suddenly.
"Um well right now it's transfiguration, and not because auntie teaches it. But turning one thing into another is so cool." Hadrian grinned sheepishly. Perenelle smiled at the young boy's enthusiasm.
"But runes – runes I love." Hadrian said seriously.
"Really," she looked at him bemused.
He nodded empathetically. He pulled his napkin and started tracing it with his wand, burning symbols into the material. He started talking animatedly.
"I saw this back at the cottage, it means hidden – well this part here does and I think that's the base. This here," he traced another symbol, its angles sharp. "This is the feeder, funnels the energy towards this…" he gestured to another esoteric symbol.
A laugh startled him. He blushed in embarrassment but Perenelle waved off his stuttered apologies.
"It is quite refreshing to hear children speak so passionately about their interests. I hope I am talking to a future Runemaster then?" She asked playfully and Hadrian nodded; cheeks still pink. He looked around and noticed something that had escaped his notice before.
"Is there a festival today?" he wondered aloud.
"I'm surprised you don't know – then again…" she trailed off, giving him a considering stare.
"Voldemort was defeated today. Wizards across Europe celebrate in various ways." She intoned succinctly.
"Oh." The fire of his enthusiasm was plunged into cold realization.
Memories of that morning came to the fore of his mind and he clenched his fists. He had woken up scared, running from darkness and phantasmal screams – and yet waking had been a different kind of nightmare. Glass and wood had littered the carpet, Terry was screaming and Anthony was barely conscious, looking so pale; the crimson of his blood had stood out so starkly. And in all that confusion a voice, insidious and delighted had whispered, Yes.
"Hadrian."
He blinked a few times and then tried to smile to reassure her that he was okay. His smile fell flat, pallid against his face.
"I had-have nightmares and today…it – there was glass and…" the words tumbled out of his mouth but she shook her head, gently shushing him.
"It's alright. Whatever happened, it's alright." She reassured him, bringing her hand to rest atop his own.
He stared into her eyes, her sincerity shining through. He had no idea why he had even said anything to her. It was one thing talking to Madam Pomphrey – he had known her since he was a kid and she had given him his magical inoculations – but Perenelle no matter how nice she was, was a complete stranger. He had met her less than two hours ago. Still there was something about the woman that just let him relax around her.
"We should probably visit a flower shop soon. Those two will be done soon." She said breaking the silence.
Hadrian shook off his thoughts and followed her; happy to let his mind focus on something else,
*
Hadrian only stumbled when they appeared at their next destination. That had more to do with the mode of transport than anything else – also his aunt did have a firm grip on his arm. Apparation or this version of apparation – side-along apparation – was uncomfortable.
He had felt himself be squeezed from all sides as if his body was being forced through a straw. He had been unable to breath and it had gone dark before colour and light and air had rushed back in. Still, while he hated it, it was faster than a portkey.
He took a few steps forward and his stomach only protested mildly. A whole day of magical travel had quickly gotten him adapting it seems.
"Where are we?" he asked, looking around. They had appeared in an alley, beyond which he could hear faint sounds.
"This is Godrics Hallow." McGonagall said strange and nostalgic, "Come."
He followed her out. The village felt cozy and light-hearted. There was something familiar in the air that he could not quite place. The two walked in silence, passing houses sporting Halloween decorations. Children were running about in their costumes, laughing and carefree.
They turned into a street and left the cheer behind. The path led up to a church and suddenly Hadrian felt anxious. He tried to catch his aunt's eyes but she kept her eyes forward. They entered a gate off to the side and suddenly Hadrian saw that they were in a cemetery. Rows and rows of grave stones lay in front of the duo. In the waning evening light, the shadows had turned long and reaching. The trees stood amidst the gravestones – dark looming sentries, their twisted branches enshrining the stones, giving them a semblance of privacy.
Slowly Hadrian followed his teacher and aunt; she seemed to know where she was going, taking the twists and turns with familiarity. With every step Hadrian took, his feet grew heavier, filling with lead. An idea was forming in his head, an idea that filled him with trepidation. They came to a stop before two gravestones and something lurched in him.
James Charlus Potter. Lily Potter.
He felt lost, his emotions a jumbled mess. He had no idea what to do. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, light and gentle.
"Take all the time you need, there is no rush. I'll be here if you need me."
He felt her move a distance away, close but far enough for him to have some semblance of privacy. He looked back at the stones. Shakily he raised a hand and brushed it against his father's name. There was no tingling sensation, no rush of power nor blinding light – just dead, cold stone against his fingers, worn out by rain and wind. It was just stone and yet it was so much more.
"Hi dad. Hi mom. It's me Hadrian, your son…"
The words tumbled out of his mouth, and like floodgates splayed open he found himself pouring himself out; talking and sharing stories about his life, some that he had never told anyone else.
"Dudley gave me a lighter for my birthday, aunt Petunia doesn't know of course…"
"Hedwig, she's my familiar I think and she looks like an owl but she can freeze things if she tries hard enough. I think its cool and she is so smug about it…"
"I made friends at Hogwarts, actual friends, not because they are friends with Dudley but mine…."
"I have nightmares sometimes, about that night. I hate them – I hurt Tony because of them…"
He talked for what felt like hours but was probably less. The sun went below the horizon, and the sky turned a velvety purple. Soon his words tapered and he just knelt there, one hand on each gravestone. There was a rustle of cloth and his Aunt was standing beside him.
"Thank you for bringing me here."
A flash of white flitted across his peripheral and Hadrian leaned his head to the side letting Hedwig land on his shoulder. The bird let out a gentle cooing sound and rubbed her head against his. Professor McGonagall shifted beside him.
"Here." She pulled out a wreath of flowers. Hadrian accepted them, absentmindedly noting that they were the same flowers he had bought earlier with Perenelle – he had chosen them in fact. Gingerly he placed the flowers on the stones and marvelled as they grew. Vines sprouting and twisting around the stones, connecting them.
"Could you say something…" he looked at his aunt unsure. "It feels like we should say something, say goodbye…" he trailed off, shrugging.
She took a step forward, head bowed and wand held aloft, casting a soft light, "As you leave this shore, gone but not forgotten. Your memories burned upon our hearts we shall carry. To the Great Mother we confer your spirits and hope you reach the Blessed Isle. Our journey continues. Till we meet again."
"Till we meet again."
A/N That's another chapter done with. This one was quite a chore to write, I tried to throw in all sorts of emotions and I'm not really sure how that worked out. That's for you guys to tell me. Anyway I sped up the visit to the graves, I don't see any reason for McGonagall not to take him, especially on the anniversary of their deaths. I know in the books that visit came late and it carried with it other meanings and also added on to the story but it always pestered me why he never went earlier, considering he always wanted to know about his parents. Anyway. Whatever, that's what fanfiction is for.
To the people or shall I say person who reviewed, Dragonhitter thank you. As to your question about Selene, well she's not dead and I haven't forgotten her at all. She will appear again at some point, when that is exactly well I hope you keep reading to find out
Please read and Review. Thanks
Edited 22-05-2024
Some paragraph formatting, minor dialogue changes and punctuations