Forged In Chaos

by dsmuso

Legends are not born but forged. So what happens when you are born to be great, to surpass all who came before? Thrust into a strange and new world will Hadrian bring back honor and prestige to his fallen family? Surrounded by shadows and powers seen & unseen, will the weight of expectation and destiny crush him? Or will he thrive in the chaos and tame fate.

10. Chapter 9 - Two Faced

TWO FACED

If your gonna be two-faced, at least make one of them pretty.

- Unknown

---

The great hall was a cacophony of noise as usual. Teens chattering and laughing while they enjoyed their supper. The atmosphere was warm and rowdy. At the Ravenclaw table the first years were busy having what one would call a spirited discussion.

"That's a load of dragon dung and you know it!" Terry pronounced violently stabbing his knife into the table.

"You take that back, you heathen." Anthony hissed back just as hotly. "The Falcons are gonna win this year. They beat the Cannons just last week…"

"Everyone beats the Cannons, it's not that hard to do." Terry jeered.

Anthony glared at his friend before he turned to Michael who was trying his best to quickly finish his meal.

"Corner back me up here…" Anthony nudged his friend in the side. Michael hissed and dropped his spoon, spilling his food. Michael cursed under his breath.

"Why can't we have one meal without the two of you talking about Quidditch." Morag complained. The two boys turned to her almost surprised.

"Honestly what does it matter who wins the damn league this year, it's been a crappy year anyway." Morag moaned, glaring at the two boys.

"Now you listen here…" Anthony started but Hadrian tuned them out, sharing an amused glance with Padma who was chatting quietly with Su.

He absentmindedly brought a pineapple wedge to his mouth, humming in delight as the tangy sweet flavour filled his mouth. Concentrating on the book in front of him, he continued to read…

…Transference sequence. Part of the Movement group of Runes. It in fact is closely related to the simple Move cluster and is often considered to be a simply modified form of the aforementioned. But while Move imparts and affects kinetic energy, Transference deals with moving magical energy and essence. Often used between two bound and linked clusters, Transference is what moves energy throughout the matrix. But it can also be used to move properties or the essence of one thing to another to a limited fashion…

Hadrian lightly traced the rune sequence on the pages of his notebook. This was not the first time he had encountered this particular sequence; it was actually a basic sequence that worked in conjunction with power clusters to provide the engine so to speak for most matrices. He was only reading up on it again because of an idea he was playing around with.

Glancing around the table to check if anyone was looking, he pulled out his wand and began carving the sequence into the table. He noticed Padma and Su glance at him, curious. He grinned at them and motioned for them to wait and see. Running a critical eye over the carving he gave a satisfied nod. He had always used it to impart and move energy and had never truly looked at the essence bit. He turned to his notebook and added a few more runes before he jabbed a subtly glowing finger at the cluster on the table. Su let out a gasp as the notebook's page turned stiff, then brown and woody.

"What in Merlin's…" Lisa who was sitting beside exclaimed, drawing the other first year's attention to Hadrian's experiment.

"Well that is interesting." An amused voice said behind Hadrian.

He whirled around in surprise, removing his finger and letting the magic fade. There standing behind him was Perenelle Flamel, a soft smile brightening her face. Hadrian almost relaxed before he noticed that the attention of all of his friends was on him.

"Mrs Flamel, what are you doing here?" He almost cringed at how rude that sounded.

The woman frowned, "What have I told you?"

Hadrian grimaced and quickly amended, "What are you doing here, Perenelle?"

The woman nodded, apparently satisfied. "I am a guest of the school in case you forgot Hadrian."

"That's not what I meant," he frowned. "I meant here," Hadrian gestured vaguely about him, "Right now."

"Oh that's quite easy, I had something for you. But considering how rude you are I'm having second thoughts." She said thoughtfully.

Hadrian flushed embarrassed. Before he could think of anything to say, he found a slim green book thrust under his nose. Taking it, he read the title; Let's Get Familiar . Hadrian looked up at the woman surprised.

"How…why?"

"Oh don't act so surprised, silly boy. Your aunt mentioned it in passing and I thought that would help you. It was gathering dust in my library anyway." She shrugged her slim shoulders.

"Thank you." Hadrian said gratefully. She merely waved him off. She glanced over his shoulder for a moment, an unreadable look on her face before she shrugged.

"Use it well and I won't complain." She offered him a smile.

Hadrian nodded and she turned around to go, "We should have tea again sometime and maybe you can show me some of your little projects." She again glanced over his shoulder.

"You can even bring some friends." She smirked knowingly. Before Hadrian could answer she was already gone. For a few moments there was silence amongst the group.

"You know Perenelle Flamel?" Morag asked her eyes wide. An expression that was mirrored by most of the faces on the table around him.

"Umm yes?" Hadrian answered unsure.

"Since when?" Morag pressed. Hadrian pursed his lips into a thin line, noticing how eagerly the others were waiting for his response. His eyes darted quickly to Anthony.

"Guys I don't think it matters that much." Padma said casually. She glanced at Hadrian, a whole conversation passing between them in that one moment.

"Oh c'mon Patil, you know it does." Terry interjected. "Unless it's some big secret, what with you being the Boy Who Lived and all that stuff…" Terry said lightly, a smirk gracing his face.

Hadrian ground his teeth. He hated being called that and all his dormmates knew that. Padma caught his eye and shook her head, Don't take the bait, she was saying. Hadrian sighed in irritation.

"I met her that day I missed classes." He glanced nervously at Anthony.

"Oh," Mandy breathed out. "Isn't that the day you flung Tony across a room?" She asked plainly.

A collective groan went around the table. Nobody had ever accused Mandy of having any shred of tact.

"Yes." Hadrian sighed out.

"Well look at that, you must have the devil's luck…" Terry started.

"Terry!" Lisa and Morag rebuked him at the same time.

"What, we were all thinking it…" Terry stopped when Hadrian stood up, brows furrowed and books held tightly at his chest.

Hadrian glared and for a moment the tension was so thick it was almost visible. Then Hadrian sighed, his tense frame slumping.

"You know what, forget it." Hadrian said, his sharp green eyes cutting at Terry who flinched. Hadrian turned to Padma and she gave him a simple nod

"I'll find you later." She said simply. Hadrian nodded and left, leaving an awkward table behind him.

*

Muggles would have you believe that all Magi have familiars, riding at the back of our brooms as we cackle and curse little children. Well as you will certainly come to know or are already aware, muggles have no idea how things work. The word familiar is often bandied about, but true familiars are rare. They are not pets that are unusually intelligent, of which many a wizarding pet is quite clever. No, familiars are something more. A familiar is a magical animal that chooses to bind itself to a mage, a sacred and intimate bond. A wizard cannot initiate it, it is always done by the animal and often without the consent of the wizard.

But what does it mean, to have a familiar? It means gaining a lifelong companion whose loyalty is unquestionable. There is no deceit or subterfuge between master and familiar. Thoughts and emotions pass between the two as easily as breathing. In fact, some have theorized that a familiar bond is a joining of two souls, one entity within two bodies…

The world had never looked clearer. Tiny motes of dust and pollen glinted under the harsh silver light of the moon. The walls looked almost pearlescent and the suits of armour gleamed and sparkled. The wind teased his – their feathers and with it came the sounds of the forests, crickets and bats, trees creaking and dancing in the breeze. All he – they needed to do was stretch their powerful wings and catch the wind and they would leave all this behind. They were of the air, free.

His - their head twitched – something was scuttling down below, a rat. Talons tightened on the rafter and muscles tensed, No! She – they hissed in distaste; it was natural. Not yet, please. He – they pleaded; and she – they consented. A subtle pressure that had been present from the beginning was growing, they were not used to this. It was new, it was too much, it was overwhelming and so he opened his eyes and found himself back in his body.

Hadrian breathed deeply, for a moment his mind still lost, still thinking his hands were wings and his body covered in feathers. His ears could still hear the echoes of the forest though they were fading fast. He blinked as the world darkened and details faded, becoming muted and blurred. He looked up into the rafters and easily found glowing amber staring back at him. He reached out and marvelled at how much easier it was. As he and Hedwig had grown their bond had strengthened and finding each other was easier, but this was different.

Now, she blazed to his senses, a beacon in the dark. Amused satisfaction echoed loudly in his mind. Oh don't be so smug, he thought fondly.

Hadrian was nothing if not curious, paired with a distinct recklessness and he often dived into things without deliberating on any consequences. It had not taken him long to crack open the book Perenelle had given him and what a treasure trove that had been. New ideas and half formed thoughts had clicked into place as he devoured the knowledge that lay within. In keeping with his nature Hadrian had decided to see if he could become one with his beautiful companion.

The description had been vague – "…reach out to your familiar and dwell within." It had taken some trial and error and no small number of headaches. Yet, tonight he had finally managed it. Yes, it had been brief and imperfect but it was progress and for tonight at least he was satisfied.

Hedwig swooped down and perched on his raised knee. Without much thought, Hadrian stroked her feathers.

"Might as well finish exploring; the night is still young after all." He stood up and peeled himself from the dark alcove. Hedwig merely barked in what he understood as exasperation. A single powerful stroke of her wings and she was off, Hadrian quickly followed.

Hadrian crept silently; his footsteps muffled by his thick socks. His new cloak was wrapped around him securely, rendering him unseen. He passed by a few portraits, the people in them thankfully deep into sleep, snoring. He turned into another hall, the long stretch a soft cold silver in the moonlight. He glanced up and saw Hedwig gliding silently up in the rafters, acting as scout.

He didn't want Filch catching him; Aunt Minnie would skin him alive if she found out he was outside after curfew. Thankfully his cloak was near transparent from the inside, allowing him to see unhindered. He glanced down at the paper in his hand, he had been jotting down a crude map since he left the Ravenclaw tower.

He felt a mental nudge from Hedwig and he took a right turn and found himself at a dead end. Hedwig was perched atop a suit of armour, waiting for him.

"What is it?" he whispered. Hedwig hooted softly and looked pointedly at the wall in front of him. Hadrian frowned, a secret passage perhaps? Hedwig was much more sensitive to such things than him after all. But how to get it open then? Another nudge from Hedwig and Hadrian saw an image, a wand against the wall. He nodded to himself; a final glance assured him that they were alone. He pulled the cloak down, his front becoming visible.

Pulling out his wand, he gently tapped it against the wall. For a moment nothing happened and then the wall shivered and winked out of existence, leaving a dark passage open. Hedwig was the first to enter and he followed quickly behind. A flick of his wand had it lit like a torch and he finally saw the passage. The sides were smooth and for someone as small as Hadrian, it was quite comfortable but he imagined that two adults couldn't walk abreast without feeling crowded.

Glancing behind him, he wasn't surprised to see the wall back in place. Quickly marking the spot on his map, he went deeper into the passage. He tried to guess where he would get out but gave up after a few more turns. All he knew was, from the slope of the passage, that he was going down. When he came to the end of the passage, he quickly extinguished his wand.

Again, Hedwig was the first to get out and after she gave him the all clear, he followed, cloak wrapped around him. Immediately he knew where he was, the third floor. He had been on the fifth and in a few minutes was two floors down. He grinned; he was definitely going to use that shortcut again.

A flare of warning had him jerk back from the corner and press himself against the wall. His breath came quickly and he could hear his blood pounding in his ears. What was around the corner he wondered?

"Out for another midnight jaunt, I see." a lazy drawl said casually. Hadrian jumped; his eyes wide; that was Professor Snape's voice.

Hadrian felt beads of perspiration gather on his brow. His heart was pounding and he could feel his muscles tightening up, ready to spring. Then he heard another voice.

"Whatever d-do you mean Severus?" a meek voice stuttered out.

Hadrian immediately placed professor Quirrell's voice.

"I've been watching you Quirinus." Snape's voice floated over.

"Whatever for, I suppose I should be flattered."

There was the sound of swishing cloth and struggling. "Oof." Someone slammed into a wall. Hadrian crept closer, his steps cautious and peeked out of the corner.

Professor Snape had Quirrell by the scruff of his neck; the defence professor's feet clear off the floor, kicking and his back was pressed firmly against the wall. Quirrell clawed at the hands holding him, his face pale and his feet kicking out. Snape was glaring daggers, his dark eyes promising violence.

"I don't have time for games. So you will tell me what I want to know Quirinus." Snape growled out.

Quirrell made a choking sound and Hadrian realized that Snape was holding onto the other man's neck quite tightly.

"You have no right…" Quirrell gasped out. "Whatever you're looking for – I know nothing…"

Hadrian surprised at the display must have made a sound because Snape's dark eyes snapped to him, staring straight at him. Hadrian almost shouted in surprise before he quickly realized that the professor's eyes were looking through him, scanning the hall. Still, Hadrian quickly and quietly retreated and ducked into an unfamiliar room.

He stood still and silent, straining his ears, hoping to catch the sound of either the professors coming his way. When he heard nothing for several minutes, he almost slumped to the floor in relief. Turning around, he finally took in the room he had stumbled into. It was an unused classroom; the desks had been pushed off to one side carelessly. At the far end though stood something tall covered with a dark sheet. Hadrian felt his curiosity tickle him.

With growing excitement, he pulled at the sheet and promptly frowned. It was a mirror – full length, with a beautiful wrought bronze frame and two clawed feet. It had an inscription at the top; Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Hadrian frowned at the words; it wasn't Latin or any of the other languages he was familiar with. Hedwig found a perch on top of it. Hadrian stepped in front of the mirror and was surprised to not see his own reflection.

"Hoot." Hedwig sounded amused and Hadrian flushed; he still had his cloak on. Grumbling under his breath about cheeky birds, Hadrian pulled off his cloak.

He peered into the mirror's depths; there he was, pale, hair messy and eyes bright even in the gloom. But he wasn't alone; a man, tall, broad and with messy hair smiled down at him, his hazel eyes crinkling in amusement. Beside the man was a woman; pale and beautiful, her eyes large and green and she had the most beautiful hair he had ever seen, a deep flickering red.

"Mom, dad." A soft gasp escaped him and he stretched out a hand towards the surface. They could be nobody else – he had stared at their pictures as a child, drinking in their features.

But then as if conjured from smoke, other figures shimmered into view. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and then other people – people he had only glimpsed in paintings. They had his hair and nose and his smile. Slowly he saw that they were standing upon a meadow and in the background rose buildings and he realized that he was looking at his ancestral home – rebuilt and vibrant.

He stared at the image of his parents and him between them, the family they were meant to be. He stood there and drank them in, unmindful of the cold creeping up his feet or the cramp in his legs.

It was only when Hedwig landed on his shoulder that he turned. She looked at him, her eyes understanding and kind.

"Hoot."

He stared at her for a moment, before looking back at the mirror – the smiling faces greeted him, unchanged, their eyes glimmering with welcome.

"I have to go now," he said, his voice small. "But I'll be back. Tomorrow."

The faces, his mother and father smiled and nodded. With one last glance he left the room and pulled his cloak around him.

---

"You look exhausted." Padma said, taking a break from her essay. Hadrian leaned back in his chair and yawned.

"I feel exhausted." He covered up his yawn and grimaced.

Padma frowned and clucked her tongue in disapproval.

"You went out with your cloak again last night, didn't you?" she accused.

Hadrian shrugged, "Maybe."

"Hadrian!" she admonished.

"What was I supposed to do? Leave it in my trunk and let it go to waste?" he joked.

"Yes." She said forcefully. "What if someone caught you, like Filch?"

"It's an invisibility cloak – nobody can see me." He explained patiently as if to a child.

"No they can't, but they can hear you…" she pointed out.

Hadrian opened his mouth to answer but she didn't let him. "…or smell you. Penelope was telling me that Filch's cat, Norris, smells students out and tells him. Did you think of that?"

"Well no." he answered after a moment. "But I was perfectly fine, Hedwig was scouting. And no familiar of mine is going to lose to a no-good cat." He grinned and helped himself to a crisp from the bowl in between them. Padma pursed her lips – the boy had an answer for everything.

"So you didn't run into anyone?" she asked, her golden eyes watching him intently.

Hadrian froze mid bite and his expression became contrite.

"I may have run into both Snape and Quirrell." He offered. Padma looked aghast.

"But they didn't see me," Hadrian was quick to add.

"They didn't sense you though, right? I did tell you about that right?" she asked, pulling his hand into hers and gripping him tightly.

"Yea you did and no they didn't." Hadrian refuted not pulling hand away from hers. Padma got touchy when she was emotional.

Padma, when he had shown her his new cloak had been intrigued but she had cautioned him. Some wizards are extra sensitive to magic and can sense you even if you're invisible, so Invisibility cloaks aren't full proof, she had said. Case in point Padma herself could vaguely tell where he was, though she had to concentrate a lot.

"They were acting weird though, Snape almost bit Quirrell's head off though." Hadrian said absently tracing patterns on Padma's palm.

"What?" Hermione popped up and dropped a heavy book down on the desk, startling the other two. Hadrian gave her a mild glare but she grinned impishly at him.

"So what are we talking about?" she plopped down beside Padma.

"Hadrian had a run in with Snape last night when he was out sneaking." Padma said snidely. Hadrian gave her a betrayed look.

"He didn't see me!" he defended himself.

"Should you be antagonizing professor Snape, Hadrian? You two don't exactly get along." Hermione added.

Hadrian let out a disbelieving snort; Hermione was being quite kind – he and Snape more than didn't get along, they had an intense mutual dislike of each other.

"Has either of you seen Neville?" he tried to change the subject. The girls gave him twin looks that just screamed unimpressed.

"He said he had something to ask professor Sprout." Hermione supplied.

"Oh that's nice…" he said not having anything else to add.

Padma rolled her eyes. "Stop stalling and tell us what happened."

Tell them he did, explaining his journey through the moonlit halls and his discovery of new shortcuts. Then he told them about his invisible encounter with the two professors and their subsequent altercation. He did hesitate to mention the mirror though and decided it wasn't all that important in the grand scheme of things. He ignored the knot of guilt in his chest and tried not to meet Padma's piercing stare.

"Was that all that happened?" Padma asked at length, staring at him. Hadrian took a chip from the bowl and tried to act nonchalant.

"Just about yea, as far as I can remember." He nodded, affecting a calm air. Padma's stare became downright piercing.

"That is strange, isn't it? Do you imagine teachers have duels late at night in the corridors often?" Hermione wondered out loud, oblivious to the tension between the two Ravenclaws.

"I wouldn't call it a duel." Hadrian said flatly.

"Do you think professor Snape is looking for something?" Padma stopped glaring enough to pose the question.

"Well it looked like Snape was following Quirrell – he does seem the sneaky sort." Hadrian added. Though in the back of his mind he did wander just exactly who was the sort, Quirrell or Snape. Both of them gave him a strange sensation.

"What for though?" Hermione questioned.

"Do you guys think it could do with what we saw in the woods?" Padma speculated, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

The other two froze momentarily, lost in memory. Hadrian felt his leg twitch and grimaced.

"How though?" Hadrian found his gaze drawn out across the aisle to the window where he could just see dark trees rising up.

"I-I don't know…but I don't think everything that happened this year is a coincidence." Padma said slowly, gauging their reaction.

Hadrian and Hermione shared a look and gestured for her to go on. Emboldened, Padma rattled off her fingers, counting.

"First, the troll; how often does that happen, something that dangerous being on the loose in a castle full of kids?" Padma started throwing a furtive look at the other girl.

Hermione's face tightened and she looked away, her complexion slightly green.

"Then, there was the whole unicorn thing. Unicorns are really hard to catch, really hard. And now this, two professors acting suspiciously." Padma finished with a helpless shrug.

"Maybe, maybe you have a point. But this could also just have happened and be a bizarre coincidence." Hadrian started but was interrupted by Hermione.

"I don't think it's some coincidence. It's not completely random, they all have something in common." Hermione looked right at him, eyes bright and serious. It took only a few moments for Hadrian to work out what she was implying before he scowled.

"No." he said flatly.

"Hermione might have a point…" Padma added, her eyes solemn.

"Well I disagree." Hadrian folded his arms across his chest. "Just because I was always at the wrong place at the wrong time…"

"Or the right place." Hermione added helpfully but Hadrian chose to ignore her.

"…it doesn't mean it's all connected." He finished firmly. The two girls looked unconvinced but didn't push him any further.

The three then lapsed into silence, working on their assignments. Hadrian was writing on auto pilot, his mind distracted by the notion Padma had brought. He may have dismissed it but that was more to do with how uncomfortable it made him feel, rather than some flaw on Padma's reasoning.

He could admit, at least to himself that he had thought about their adventures. How did a bunch of first years do all that, see all that, he had wondered? But what Padma suggested implied that someone was pulling the strings and the mere idea of it scared him.

"Do you think Mr. Flamel will show us his Stone during his lecture?" Hermione asked suddenly, breaking them out of their musing.

"What?" Hadrian asked intelligently, blinking owlishly.

"The Philosopher's Stone." Hermione said leaning forward and perking up in her chair

"You mean the fabled holy grail of alchemy that supposedly grants eternal youth and can turn metals to gold?" Hadrian asked sceptically and blinked in surprise when Hermione nodded excitedly.

"I didn't know he had one." Hadrian confessed.

"I thought you met him; how could you not know." Padma asked askance.

"Well we didn't get to chatting about his work. It was a brief meeting – something I'm thankful for to be honest. He had this thing about him…" Hadrian shuddered as he remembered that heavy oppressive feeling he had gotten near the old Alchemist. "His wife is nice though." He added as an afterthought, smiling slightly.

"Well it's the whole reason he's so famous. He is the only Alchemist to ever succeed in making one." Padma said with slight admiration.

"The stone makes him functionally immortal. Imagine being over six hundred years old!" Hermione said excitedly. "All the things he must know, the things he must have seen…." Hermione continued to babble on but Padma was thinking, the gears in her mind working.

"The Stone!" Padma clicked her fingers.

"What about it?" Hadrian asked leaning back from the girls nails. He quickly motioned to Hermione, shushing her. Hermione huffed, feeling quite put off about the interruption.

"It's said that the Elixir of Life is a powerful substance, capable of great healing. I once read an article in a medical journal by Healer E. Wright, and he theorised that the incredible healing powers of the stone effectively returned the body back to peak condition, reversing damage and deterioration and that was the source of the immortality. It's one of the few pieces ever written about the Stone actually." Padma gushed.

"What about it?" Hadrian asked leaning back from the girls nails. He quickly motioned to Hermione, shushing her. Hermione huffed, feeling quite put off about the interruption.

Padma rolled her eyes in exasperation, "Remember what Firenze said?" Padma asked leadingly.

"Hard to forget, to be honest." Hermione grumbled and Hadrian nodded in agreement.

Padma looked somewhat agitated, her arms twitching with repressed excitement, "Firenze said that unicorn blood can save you even if you were an inch from death."

"Yea, but you would be cursed though." Hermione reminded, a frown on her brow.

"Unless…" Padma's voice dropped and she leaned forward, prompting the other two to do the same. "Unless there was something more powerful that could reverse all that and restore you to full health."

"The Stone." Hermione shared a look of realization with Hadrian.

"But who? Snape or Quirrell?" Padma asked. Hadrian had a thoughtful look on his face. He tapped the desk, humming.

"I don't know about Quirrell but I could see Snape doing it…" Hadrian said grumpily.

"Just because you don't like him doesn't mean you should make him prime suspect." Hermione admonished.

"I don't see that stopping him." Hadrian said his tone sour. Hermione shook her head at him, looking at him in disapproval.

"Okay maybe he's jealous or something. Isn't alchemy better than potions?" Hadrian hazarded.

"So what? You think it's professional jealousy." Padma asked in a disbelieving tone. Hadrian shrugged, he was just throwing the idea out in the open.

"I don't know guys, it seems like a stretch. We don't know if Snape and Flamel have any history and even then, why would Snape be working with that thing in the forest?" Hermione asked and the other two had no answer for her.

Hadrian grumbled under his breath and reached into the bowl for some crisps. He sighed when he found it empty. He gave the two girls an irritated look; they hadn't exactly helped him when he had smuggled the snacks into the library under his cloak. But they had no qualms finishing his food.

"Okay, who finished my crisps?" He looked between the two, his mouth a thin line.

Padma and Hermione shared an amused glance before bursting into giggles.

---

"My patience is fast running out…" the voice hissed, sending shivers of terror down his spine.

"Please master, the protections are difficult and delicate…." He began but stopped abruptly as an angry hiss filled the air.

"Excuses. Fool, have I not shown you magicks beyond mortal reckoning and yet here you are telling me of simple weaves?" The voice demanded.

The man shuddered and his legs crumpled, as a wave of white hot pain wracked his body. He bit his lip drowning out his screams into pained grunts. The pain stopped but he continued to lay there, panting and shaking.

"Get up you fool." The voice commanded.

Reeling from the pain, the man nevertheless pulled his body up until he was kneeling, his limbs still trembling. He noticed a curious moisture on his chin and dabbed at it with his fingers; he hissed as the digits met the raw skin and came away wet with crimson.

"Perhaps it is an overestimation of your abilities to believe that you can deal with the wards in any timely fashion." The voice snarked, tone dripping with disdain.

"Master if you could just…" the man began but let out a shout of pain.

"I must? I must? I will not have you ruin my plans, months of careful planning and infinite patience. Now when I am so close. No, you will be silent and let me think…" the voice trailed off and the man waited.

He could feel his master deep in thought, the dark presence at the edge of his mind. So he waited patiently.

"We shall need a distraction, to keep those two fools away for a time. Listen well, I shall not repeat myself…" The voice began tone considering, as the voice laid out a plan.

"Master, what of the woman?" he asked finally.

"Hmm, she will be needed. I would not put it past the old alchemist to have a failsafe only he and his wife could bypass." The voice mused, tone conveying grudging respect.

"Use the boy," the voice said decisively. "She is fond of him; we use that against her when all else fails."

"Very well master. It will take time to set this all up but…" he began but the voice cut him off.

"I am aware. Just follow my instructions and we shall succeed. Now go, I need to recover my strength." He felt his master's presence retreat completely before he stood from his position of supplication.

Quickly he fixed his appearance, smoothing out his robes and running a light touch over his lip, healing it. With one last look at himself, he quickly left the room, leaving no evidence of his being there. Taking the stairs quickly he met the stewardess of the establishment. She looked up at him, a smile crossing her rosy face.

"Mr…" She started to say but he was quicker. His arm snapped up, wand in hand and wove a complex pattern across her eyes. " Obliviate ." A flash of white and the woman's eyes turned glassy and unfocused. " Confundus ." His wand let out a gentle blue glow, enveloping her head.

" I was never here," he whispered the thought into her mind. " The room was booked by a lady, pale eyed and petite, she never showed up…"

"The lady never came…" She mumbled dreamily. He nodded satisfied; the modification had taken.

He took a breath before he hung his head low, slouching forward and drawing his shoulders close; with nary a glance at the woman he left the establishment and joined the throng of people going about their day in the packed streets.

---

Hadrian blinked blearily, trying to keep his eyes open. Professor McGonagall was speaking but he could barely hear her, his mind felt full of cotton and everything sounded far away and muffled.

Something grasped his arm and shook him. The jolt kicked his mind into gear and his red eyes snapped to the left. Padma was looking at him, her brow furrowed and eyes glimmering with concern.

"You're not okay." She whispered. It wasn't a question.

He blinked back at her, her face swam across his vision before she resolved into focus. He opened his mouth, ready to brush her off. Padma looked at him in consternation. He closed his mouth with a click.

"You're a mess, I can feel it. You're all over the place." She gestured to his pasty and pale complexion. His eyes were drooping and framed in dark shadows.

Hadrian quickly pulled his arm from her grasp, turning away from her. Padma tried to keep the hurt from her face, she didn't quite succeed. The air between them turned sour and awkward. Padma could feel his agitation clear as day, and guilt, there was a lot of that.

"Sorry." Hadrian murmured quietly into the silence between them. He was looking at her from the corner of his eyes. "I just haven't been getting enough sleep…" he trailed off uncertain.

"Is it your nightmares again?" she asked quietly. She quickly glanced behind her at Morag, hoping the other girl wasn't eavesdropping.

Ever since the incident with Anthony, there had been a distinct distance between the boys; Hadrian was loathe to talk about it. Hadrian shifted, a grimace blooming on his face.

"I suppose you could say that." There was something in the way he said it that convinced Padma that there was a lot she was missing.

"Hadrian," she reached for his hand and this time he didn't pull away.

She pulled at his fingers gently massaging them between her palms. Hadrian closed his eyes and rumbled quietly at the back of his throat, appreciative.

Concentrating, she pulled up happy thoughts and resolve; she recalled running in her family's gardens, the sun kissing her skin. In her mind's eye she could see it, a bundle of warmth and light, pulsing and bubbly. Slowly and with care she fed it through the thread between them and pushed it into him. A tingle ran up her spine, going all the way down to their joined hands. Hadrian let out a surprised but pleased sigh, the tension in his shoulders eased and for a moment his skin gained a healthy hue before dissipating. He opened his eyes lazily, emerald eyes glimmering.

"Since when could you do that?" he leaned towards her, his shoulder bumping into hers.

She shrugged, and continued to massage his hand, "Always I think, it just takes practice." She explained.

"Neat trick. Thank you." He murmured, his eyes drooping.

"You're welcome," she offered him a half smile. "It's easier with you though." She said thoughtfully, thinking out loud.

Then her face became serious once more. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything, if…" She stopped when he squeezed her hand.

"I know." He looked at her, his gaze intense and hooded. Padma froze her ministrations caught in his emerald grasp.

Hadrian looked away; his thoughts casting down to the abandoned classroom on the third floor. Even now he could feel that subtle desire, the insidious pull of those smoky depths. He had been visiting the mirror, every night for the past week, leaving only before dawn, afraid of discovery.

All his fatigue and confusion would instantly fall away once he stared at the visions within. It was so beautiful, so enchanting, bewitching.

"I know I can." He found himself repeating, "And I will, soon." He promised.

Padma felt his spike of guilt, he was lying, but there was more. Beneath the guilt was something teasing at the edge of her psyche, like a whisper in a large hall. She could not quite understand what it was. Maybe if she pushed a bit...

"Mr. Potter, Miss Patil, care to share your enthralling discussion with the class?" a voice snapped the two out of their little world. Professor McGonagall was staring down at them, her nostrils flaring in displeasure.

"Um no?" Hadrian asked and immediately regretted it.

McGonagall's presence seemed to swell for moment, filling the room with an ominous feeling. Hadrian felt his heart speed up, leaping into his throat, his stomach tied itself into knots and his skin broke into a sweat. He couldn't breathe, he wanted to claw at his throat, but he couldn't move, his hands weren't listening to him. What was this?

He gave a loud gasp when everything snapped and abruptly went to normal. He blinked in disbelief; the room wasn't dark or constricting and his professor was standing in front of the class, not a hair out of place. He glanced at Padma, her skin was slick with sweat, her fingers were trembling slightly.

Glancing around the room though and he noticed a curious thing, nobody else was affected, everyone was fine, except the two of them.

"Now as I was saying," McGonagall continued unperturbed by the fright she had given the two.

"We have so far concentrated on changing the material of one object into another distinct material. Wood to metal, metal to wood. Organic to non-organic and vice versa. But now it is time to do something different. Shape." She strode around to her desk and took out a bumpy lump of metal about twice the size of her fist.

She took out her wand, gave a flourish and tapped the lump; the metal bubbled and melted, turning into a curious grey liquid. She twirled her wand, pulling up and the metal followed her, dancing in a spiral and resolving into a double helix, gleaming and silver.

"As you can see, it is still metal, but its form has changed. Its dimensions, volume, those are the things you must concentrate on." She waved her wand again and from a cabinet in the back flew lumps of metal, floating and coming to rest in front of each student.

"Now I want you to visualize a shape in your mind, nothing complex mind you, keep it simple, then hold onto it, imprint that shape within your magic and then coax your material into whatever you imagine." She smiled pleased as her students started to close their eyes, trying to picture something.

Moving around, she helped where she could; a suggestion here, another demonstration there. But really, she did not have to say much, this was a class of Ravenclaws, they picked up things quite quickly.

Talking about being quick on the uptake, she moved to her two best Ravenclaws. Not that she would ever tell Hadrian that, the boy didn't need to get a big head. Predictably Hadrian and Padma were talking, they often were and it irritated her to no end, but the two were consistently the best in the class. Hadrian more so than Patil.

Hadrian seemed to be ignoring his own lump of metal and was gesturing for Padma to go first. The young Indian witch nodded and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Minerva felt a wave of forced calm wash over her originating from the girl. She noticed a few students, closer to the two, relax visibly, shoulders shrugging off tension. Interesting, Minerva thought and watched the young witch practice.

Patil waved her wand and taped her lump of metal. Like a conductor, the girl directed the metal with her wand, teasing it into shape. Metal flowed, expanding into a frame, an open cube, at its centre held in place by eight diagonal arms was a sphere. The sphere was not solid, instead it had delicate paths seemingly carved out of its surface. The whole thing looked rough of course, as if done by an amateur sculptor, the edges rough and uneven. It had none of the sheen of polished metal. Yet it was the most complex transfiguration Minerva had seen any of the first years do.

"Beat that." Padma grinned.

Hadrian looked impressed before trying for a smirk that came out more as a grimace. Minerva frowned, finally taking a closer look at her pseudo-nephew. He was paler than usual and had dark circles over his eyes. Was he not getting enough sleep? Perhaps his nightmares had intensified. Perhaps she needed to ask Poppy to prescribe him some Dreamless Sleep potion.

Padma gasped and Minerva turned to look at what Hadrian had managed. She almost took a step back when she saw what he had wrought. It was a frame, barely a foot tall. Smooth and with an intricate top, it had vines running down its sides in delicate curves and its feet were clawed. It was beautifully made and with great attention to detail.

"Dammit! You didn't have to show off." Padma said good naturedly, not noticing that Hadrian was staring at his creation, conflicted.

Minerva felt the blood leave her face as she stared at the abomination Hadrian had shaped. Transfiguration was a matter of detail, of acute visualisation; this Minerva knew, and so for Hadrian to produce something so complicated, so beautifully detailed and at his age – well it must have been something he had obsessed over for hours on end, dreamt of, craved.

She had warned Albus, but of course he did not listen. This explained so much about Hadrian's appearance. She turned around, her face devoid of her inner conflict and continued to make her rounds. Still her mind was working overtime; she was going to destroy that damned thing and curse both Albus and Nicolas.

---

Padma enjoyed astronomy class. The class was often held at night on the highest tower of the school, open to the night sky. The tower was especially warded, and was kept at a nice cool temperature no matter the time of year. A great thing too, considering how harsh the Scottish winters could get.

They would set up their telescopes all around and bring the distant stars so close that Padma could just reach out and pluck them from the sky. Professor Sinastra would often weave her lessons with tales and myths of the constellations holding her class enthralled.

It also helped that the professor was young and beautiful, Padma thought with some amusement as she saw Terry paying rapt attention to the professor, except he was barely listening and simply following her movement. Padma heard a giggle beside her and smiled down at Su, her partner for the night.

The smaller girl was shaking her head, amused – Terry had almost tripped over himself when Professor Sinastra had smiled in his vague direction. Padma laughed quietly and looked around for Hadrian. She looked towards Michael and frowned. Hadrian had been paired with Michael but he wasn't there. With a quick mutter to Su, Padma shuffled quietly and sidled up to Michael.

"Where's Hadrian?" She asked quietly, Professor Sinastra was quite particular about being interrupted.

Michael barely stopped his exclamation when she suddenly stood beside him. Instead he inclined his head and spoke in equally low tones. "He said he had to go to the bathroom."

"Oh." Padma flushed, feeling embarrassed, for some reason.

"He was acting weird though. Agitated. Anxious." Michael added.

The two quickly ducked when Sinastra looked their way; pretending to look through the telescopes. Padma absently noticed that she was using Hadrian's, it was a beast of a thing, gleaming and polished.

"When did he leave?" Padma asked when the professor's attention drifted from them.

"A minute before you came to interrogate me actually." Michael groused.

"I'm not interrogating you." Padma frowned bemused.

"Sure." Michael's tone was so dry it left no doubt to how he felt about it all.

"Whatever." Padma said and quickly looked at the Professor. Her back was turned and Padma quickly waved at Su who nodded. Padma quickly and quietly slipped away.

The halls were empty – it was after curfew after all. She had no idea where Hadrian had gone, but she knew that it was definitely not the bathroom. Hadrian had been coming to class every morning looking exhausted, as if he had barely slept. It was barely noticeable at first but eventually it had started affecting his classroom performance.

Professor Avery, Head of Gryffindor and History and Culture professor had almost re-enacted the first bloody goblin rebellion on Hadrian when he had fallen asleep in her class and had the audacity to snore. Padma had thought it was his nightmares, acting up again.

So she had cornered Michael the other day. The other boy had been recalcitrant but had eventually admitted that Hadrian was often missing from his bed late at night. That had ruled out nightmares, Hadrian couldn't get them if he was barely sleeping. Which begged the question, what was it?

It couldn't be his ongoing attempts to map the castle. She, along with Hermione had convinced him to only do it during the day and Padma often went along with him, enjoying the chance to explore. Something was happening and Hadrian was hiding it from her and she knew that whatever it was, was bad for him.

Focusing for a moment, she uncoiled her bundled awareness. Her shoulders relaxed and the constant tension she had been holding eased as she extended her senses. For a moment she enjoyed the feeling of being unfettered.

Taking a breath to concentrate, she started sorting through her new perception. The large jumbled mass of emotions above her was her class. Pushing outward she felt a muted presence, not as coherent, it was an animal she supposed. Probably Mrs Norris, Padma thought frustrated. Hadrian shouldn't have gotten far from her range if he was sneaking about.

She knew his feel, the specific flavour of his mind and emotion. The only explanation would be if he was under his cloak. She stopped and groaned, of course he was under it. Had this been a few weeks ago, Padma would have been confident about her ability to find him. When he had first gotten the cloak, she had been able to sense him, vaguely but enough to accurately guess his position within a three-foot radius.

That had changed though, despite Padma getting better at sensing in general, the more he used the cloak, the less she could sense, his presence becoming quieter until a week ago when she had felt nothing and he had disappeared from her perception. She had never heard of a cloak that could adapt.

She stood in the hallway, frustrated and not knowing where to go. She was just about to go back to the class when she felt a gentle nudge against her mind. Friend. Padma looked up and saw Hedwig perched in the rafters. Padma opened her mouth to say something, but the bird quickly flew off, landing at the end of the corridor. The bird stared at her, waiting. Padma got the message and quickly followed.

Hedwig quickly led her through the castle, taking shortcuts Padma was familiar with and some that were new. With Hedwig as both guide and scout, Padma didn't meet anyone in the darkened corridors. It was only when Hedwig glided into an open door that Padma hesitated.

She could feel Hadrian, yet his presence felt strange. Steeling herself, she slipped into the abandoned classroom. She quickly took in the piled-up chairs and desks and then her eyes found her target. She moved quickly to his side.

"Hadrian!" She hissed and grabbed his shoulder. Immediately she recoiled, a strangled gasp escaping her. She stumbled back from him, shaking. Hadrian startled, turned and looked at her eyes wide and bright but unfocused.

"Padma? What-when… What are you doing here?" he reached out to her but she moved away.

Padma shook her head, her eyes shut tight. What was that? Her mind was reeling. The moment she had touched him, she had felt him clearly. His very soul bared to her, not the muted sensation she had felt as she had approached. Sad, desperate, longing, contentment.

It had all rushed in, a flux she had become accustomed to, a cacophony she had come to expect and welcome. Yet it had been wrong, the emotions were there and his but beneath them was something, something pervasive, insidious. Her eyes snapped open and she glared at the dark mirror.

"What is that?" she spat, contempt dripping from her lips.

Hadrian, though, did not seem to hear her disdain. His eyes gleamed in the darkened room, green eyes manic with energy and he smiled – the weary lines of his face smoothing.

"It's strange, but brilliant," he tugged her forward. "Look. My parents, they are here. My family." Hadrian smiled at her, urging her – and so Padma looked.

She saw herself reflected there; her dark golden eyes bright against the caramel of her skin and her messy braid hanging loose over her shoulder. Her image was clear before a backdrop of darkness. The depths of the mirror were like a veil, a twisting shapeless smoke and then it coalesced – a silhouette, gaining substance and shape. It pulled itself from the depths and came to stand beside her mirror self. Colour and light bled into the silhouette, breathing life into shape, forming a facsimile close to her heart.

"Mother." The words stole from her lips and without any conscious thought, Padma took a step forward. Her hand rose up, fingers splayed and reached out to touch, to feel. Cool mirror greeted her hand and Padma felt her heart lurch. Her mother's eyes lit up, her smile warm and pure. Her mother raised her arm and wrapped it around Padma's mirror self.

Padma spun around, searching, desperate to feel the ghost of that loving touch – yet found nothing. It was just her and Hadrian in that room.

"Mother?" Hadrian asked confused. He stood beside her and looked into the mirror. His lips pulled into a longing smile. "My family. They're here."

Padma didn't hear him. Her attention was locked onto the depths of the mirror, her hand raised to its opposite shoulder, trying to feel what her mirror self was experiencing. A deep well of desire bubbled up within her – she wanted to stay here, to be with her mother…

Her mother was dead.

The enchantment shattered and Padma stumbled back, her hand clenching the side of her head. She could feel the magic of the mirror reaching out to her, thin insidious tendrils winding towards her.

Hurt, confusion and pain, all turned to rage. It bubbled up, frothing and hot, filling her belly with fire. She grasped it, pulled it and let it fill her and then she turned to the mirror and its tendrils. She battered them aside, feeling them retreat from her.

Her anger left as soon as it had come and left her feeling exhausted. She opened her eyes and looked at Hadrian, he was standing in front of the mirror, a dreamy half smile plastered on his face. Now that she had felt them, she could see the mirrors enchantment woven around him, embracing him.

"Hadrian." She called, pulling herself up. She stumbled towards him, her limbs heavy.

She grabbed him, pulling him away, but he resisted.

"It's not real." She pleaded with him, tugging harder.

"What?" Hadrian's face pinched and he blinked, he looked confused.

"Look at me." Padma grasped his face, hold the sides of his head, threading her fingers through his hair.

Hadrian stared at her, turning his bloodshot eyes to her form.

"It isn't real. I'm real, me, not whatever you're seeing." She spoke quickly, desperately.

She could feel the mirror trying to fight back and so she pulled deep inside herself, taking hold of the truth she knew. Her contentment as they sat together, making notes in the library. The thrill and energy of a quidditch match. Her quiet pride when she managed a spell he had taught her. She grasped all this and more, the energy buzzing in her being and pushed it into her best friend. A soft golden glow threaded through her fingers and Hadrian's eyes fluttered close.

He shook his head, stumbling back and opened his eyes. His eyes were clear of the glassy film that had covered them.

"Padma." He croaked out, as if just waking up.

"I'm here; you're okay." Padma sniffed, her eyes wet with tears.

Hadrian reached out to her, his hand hovering over her cheek. His touch was the barest sensation on her skin and Padma felt heat blossom from the contact.

"You're crying." He spoke slowly, as if he was unsure of his words.

"Yea, but its okay. These are good tears." She smiled at him, and pulled him forward, wrapping her arms around him. Hadrian hesitated, before winding his arms around her.

"What happened." He drew back from her, staring at her. His eyes drifted to the mirror behind her and felt something whisper in his mind.

"Look at me." Padma commanded and she filled his vision, blocking the mirror. Her golden brown eyes were full of concern.

"The mirror – don't look at it!" she commanded when his gaze drifted.

"It has some sort of spell or enchantment, it caught you. Just don't look at it, okay?" She tugged him away, away from the abomination.

"Alas I see you have found the bittersweet joys of the Mirror of Erised." A kindly voice said from behind the two. Padma spun around, Hadrian mimicking her, to see who was behind them. Bright blue eyes stared at them, their depths sad and understanding.

"Headmaster!" Hadrian exclaimed, suddenly nervous.

"I see you brought a friend today Hadrian." The headmaster continued.

"You knew?" Padma asked, her face pulled back in shock. Padma looked between her friend and the old wizard. She squeezed Hadrian's hand.

"You knew I was coming here…? How?" Hadrian asked.

"My boy, I wouldn't be much of a headmaster if I didn't know where the dangerous artefacts were kept in my school now would I?" Dumbledore chuckled, his eyes twinkling.

"Why didn't you do anything?" Padma accused, anger bubbling up in her. "He was enchanted, he hasn't been sleeping and you knew..."

Suddenly the headmaster's gaze was on her. Her breath hitched involuntarily; such was the weight of that gaze. Nervous and intimidated her control on her powers slipped. Her necklace warmed against her neck, shunting her power, but a tendril lashed out to the venerable headmaster.

Padma blinked, shocked. She could feel his mind but she could gleam nothing from it, not even a single flash of emotion. It was like staring at a void. The experience jarred her enough that she quickly pulled her perception back. She stared at him, surprise plain on her face.

"I suspected, but it proved remarkably hard to find Mr Potter wandering around closed off sections of the castle, until today." The headmaster peered at them, his eyes glinting in the dark.

Padma felt Hadrian freeze beside her, his muscles tense and coiled so tight. His hand squeezed her own so tight it hurt.

"Dangerous how?" Hadrian pressed, slightly panicked. "The mirror, it showed me my parents…" he trailed off uncertain and he glanced at Padma.

"I saw my mother," Padma said quietly. Hadrian was looking at her differently, his face contemplative.

Hadrian turned to the headmaster, "It-it shows us our family?" Hadrian asked unsure.

Dumbledore's face was kind and his eyes soft. "I suppose you would see that."

Dumbledore walked forward, looking at the mirror – no, Padma realized, he wasn't looking into the mirror, but above it, at the inscription.

"The happiest man in the world would look into this mirror and see himself, as he is." Dumbledore said finally. Padma traced the strange words atop the mirror, turning them over in her mind.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire." Padma breathed out, realizing finally what the mirror did.

"It shows us what we want," Hadrian said catching on quickly. "Our desires."

"Yes." Dumbledore answered.

"It felt wrong though…" Padma started to say but faltered when the headmaster's eyes pinned her with an intense look. She felt a momentary flicker of something from him, sharp and poignant in the void that was his emotional being. It felt like surprise; and then it was gone, quickly as if it had not existed at all.

"The mirror shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desires of our hearts. Yet, it gives us neither knowledge nor truth; greater men have stood as you did, wasting away, twisted and driven mad unable to tell reality from illusion, truth from deception." The headmaster explained.

Padma shivered, a sudden chill running down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, whether it was to ward off the cold or something else, she did not know.

"The mirror will be moved tomorrow, you must not seek it out again Hadrian. I am sure miss Patil will continue to keep you grounded." The weight of his gaze bore down on the two children and the two nodded their heads.

"Yes, headmaster." The two answered.

"Good," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. "The two of you should return to your class before Professor Sinastra misses you."

At the door Hadrian lingered and Padma felt the conflict within him and reached out, taking his hand into hers. She gave it a gentle squeeze and smiled at him. He nodded, his emotions settling. Instead of leaving, as Padma expected, Hadrian turned to the headmaster.

"Sir, may I ask you a question?" he asked quietly.

"You may ask any question and I shall try to answer." The headmaster spoke solemnly.

"What do you see?" Hadrian met the old wizards gaze.

Dumbledore stilled and Padma held her breath. A well of pain and regret flashed so swiftly and powerfully across her senses that Padma almost stumbled. She tightened her grip on Hadrian to steady herself. Dumbledore smiled and the moment passed leaving her reeling.

"I see myself holding a pair of large woolly socks." Dumbledore said a beatific smile on his face.

"Oh." Hadrian had nothing else to say and feeling quite embarrassed he pulled Padma along and the two quickly left to join their class. The trip was undertaken in silence, each lost in their thoughts.

---

"Well, it's like I said, officer. Ol' Nel just up and disappeared a couple o' days ago. Left all his stuff – and that's nothin' like Nel, no sirree. Man's all sorts of paranoid, barely lets anyone share his spot. But suppose that's normal, I reckon, when you have as little as we do…" The man continued talking, clutching his dirty bag to his chest.

His face was dirty and smudged but his eyes were bright, darting about. The two officers next to the man seemed uncomfortable, though the older of the two tried his best to keep a stoic if slightly stiff face. The other, younger, one had no problem showing his discomfort, his nose scrunched in distaste. Still the man continued to dutifully take notes.

"Why are we even here? This is muggle jurisdiction." Recent Auror Academy graduate Nymphadora Tonks asked feeling peeved. Her gaze left the scene in front of her and panned up at the sky. Grey clouds looked heavy and fit to bursting.

"You can ask the captain when we get back." Her partner groused, her eyes though never left the scene, hands busy taking notes and committing everything else to memory.

"He just wanted us out of the way…" Tonks blew a strand of bright pink hair from her face.

"Well can you blame him? You did make a mess of things." The other girl said archingly.

"Oh really? I didn't see you disagreeing with me at the time Hestia." Tonks bit back.

"We all make mistakes, and that was probably my biggest one." Hestia sighed dramatically.

"Oh bite me!" Tonks snapped but there was no real heat to her words.

"No thanks, I have no idea where your diseased ass has been." Hestia smirked as Tonks' hair flashed a brilliant red for a minute before fading back to pink.

Tonks huffed and pulled her robes tighter around her, beating back the sudden chill. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

"When are we wrapping this up, I don't want to get soaked." She asked impatiently.

"Our robes are waterproof…" Hestia pointed out.

Tonks rolled her eyes and muttered something uncomplimentary under her breath. Hestia ignored her with ease, an old hand at her friend's various moods.

"Captain said to stake out the area and follow up on the lead. We can't go back without something." Hestia reminded.

"Sure we can. What was it that Bones said, 'It's not all glamour blah blah blah, paperwork' or something?" Tonks grinned but Hestia remained unimpressed.

Hestia's biting retort died in her throat when she spotted a familiar face. There by the alley was a young man peering at the scene with obvious curiosity.

"Recognize him?" Hestia nudged her partner. Tonks perked up, like a dog that had spotted a particularly interesting squirrel. Her eyes quickly spotted the suspect and her mouth twisted into a gleeful expression.

"That's Sammy Edmore, squib – been charged with possession and unlawful distribution a couple of times, among other things." Tonks supplied dutifully.

"I'm genuinely surprised that you know all that." Hestia grinned unrepentantly at Tonks. The other girl simply scowled but said nothing else. Hestia closed her notebook with a snap and turned to her partner.

"Okay I think I have a plan, we…" she stopped when she realized that Tonks had left, leaving the relative safety of their illusioned spot.

"Damn that idiot." She said exasperated.

*

Tonks crept up on Edmore, her form disillusioned to mimic her surroundings, her steps silent and her aura as quiet and wound tight around herself as she could make it, effectively rendering her invisible to that sixth sense all magicals had.

She stopped behind him, watching him figet and mutter to himself. Letting her disillusionment charm fall away, she tapped his shoulder.

"Eddie…"

Several things happened quickly; Edmore spun round, eyes wide with surprise and then panic when he recognized her uniform. Before she could say anything else, Edmore went low and swept her legs out. Tonks fell down hard onto the concrete.

"Son of a bitch!" she cursed quickly scrambling up, she winced as she felt her behind sting.

She saw Eddie metres down the alley, running like a nest of acromantula was on his heels. Thunder boomed and the sky opened up. Ignoring the rain, the young Auror gave chase.

She burst out onto a busy street that ran along the river. There, leaning against the railing was Edmore, chucking things into the river.

"You! Stop it!"

Edmore looked back to see her bearing down towards him. Acting quickly, he pulled off his jacket and threw the whole thing away and then darted down the streets. Tonks barely paid any mind to the jacket drifting down river and continued to give chase. She spotted him take a turn and she followed. Her boots slid across the slopping wet pavement and she slammed against the wall.

Letting out a curse, she frantically looked around for her quarry, ignoring the rain in her eyes. There! He was a fast bugger she thought with grudging respect. He was weaving amongst the pedestrians with ease, dodging this way and that, quickly getting away. Well she wasn't going to have that. Quickly pushing herself up, she tore after him.

"Outta the way! Police. Outta the way!" She pushed and shoved, not sparing a glance to the glares and shouts, but she wasn't making as much progress as she would have liked.

Despite the rain, the street was still full of people. "The bugger probably knew it too when he turned into this street." Fed up she raised her arm up, there was a thunderous crack, like a gunshot. People screamed and ducked, quickly finding nooks and crannies off the street. Startled, her quarry turned around to look at her, eyes wide.

She gave him a smug grin and flung herself forward. She was faster than him, she knew it and so did he. He ducked into an alley, but she wasn't far behind him. She slid to a stop in the darkened alley, her eyes quickly adjusting. He had disappeared. How? She heard a rattle above her and looked up. He was hanging up a window fifteen feet up. He grunted and vaulted up, fingers clinging to the rim of the roof. A quick glance and she saw a dumpster pressed against the building.

Taking a moment to compose herself, she delved into the wellspring of energy inside herself, letting it circulate her body faster, strengthening her and chasing away the subtle creeping chill of the rain. She took a breath and then sprinted towards the dumpster. With unnatural grace she leaped and used it as a springboard to launch herself up to the same window.

"Oof." She let out a grunt as she slammed into the brick and mortar. She spared a few seconds to look into the window, mercifully the room was empty. She didn't want to perform an impromptu memory wipe. Getting her feet under her, she tensed and then jumped powerfully, clearing the rim and landing on the roof with a roll.

"Oh c'mon!" the fugitive said exasperatedly. He was feet away from her, catching his breath.

"You're under arrest!" She took a step forward and he skittered back.

"I didn't do anything." He said distractedly, his eyes frantically looking for an escape.

"Then why'd you run?" she accused.

Instead of answering he bolted away. She was quickly on his tail, her boots crunching on the gravel.

"Stop dammit!" she screamed exasperated.

She pulled out her wand and fired a few stunners. The rain and her speed threw off her aim a bit, but she was hoping to get lucky. One shot almost clipped him, but with preternatural awareness he turned aside at the last moment. Now he started running in a zigzag trying to throw off her aim. She abandoned her attempts at stunning him and put on a burst of speed.

She was gaining on him and would soon have him. He was quickly getting to the end of the roof and after that he would be hers. Or not. He didn't slow as he neared the edge. With reckless abandon he leapt off the roof and she slid to a stop in sheer surprise. For a few moments he seemed to hang in the air and then gravity reasserted itself and he slammed into the other roof, rolling a few times. He stood up, his face dirty but his grin bright and smug. He looked back at her across the thirty-foot gap and smiled broadly at her.

"See you later rookie!" he tipped an imaginary hat to her.

He then turned around and took off at a light jog. She ground her teeth in anger and her hair bled red. She would wipe that smug look off his face. She took a few steps back and then sprinted forward, her robes whipped about her and the rain stung her face but she paid it no mind. He must have heard her because he turned and watched her in morbid curiosity. Her body suffused with energy she leapt off, a burst of magic, scattering loose pebbles, propelling her.

At the apex of her leap her wand found itself in her hand and she bellowed out a spell.

" Incarcerous."

With a bang, ropes flung forward towards him. He tried to twist out of the way but it was too late. He fell face first with a startled shout, ropes twining him from shoulder to ankle. She landed with a grunt and rolled into a graceless heap. Groaning, she pushed herself up, wincing as the stones bit into her hands and knees. Still, no amount of pain could wipe the grin from her face.

"Missed me?" she asked smug. She used her boot to roll him and was none too gentle.

"That's Auror brutality." He snarked, glaring at her.

"Boo hoo," She mocked. "Did the big bad criminal get a booboo?"

"I'm not a criminal, I didn't do a thing." He tried to wiggle free but only managed an impressive imitation of a handicapped worm.

"I'm sure the contraband you dumped into the river wasn't yours either." She said dryly.

"You won't find a thing on me…" he started but she cut him off.

"I don't need to, you're a known felon, assaulted an Auror and you ran, that's enough to bring you in." She knelt beside him and placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Now I forgot my portkey so I suggest you don't wriggle too much. Wouldn't want you splinching now would we?" she said conversationally giving him a toothy smile, enjoying how rapidly his skin paled.

"Wait…!" That's as far as he got before with a slight twist and crack the two disappeared in a swirl of colour and cloth.

*

She tried her best not to flinch as Captain Shacklebolt pinned her with a stare. She was in his office, well the office he shared with the other captains of the force, giving her report. Thankfully the office was empty save the two of them.

"Auror Tonks, I asked you to follow up on a lead, not have a merry chase across London." He started, his brow furrowed, hands across his chest.

"Well what did you want me to do? The guy ran, was I just supposed to let him get away?" She asked indignantly. He raised a brow at her tone and she had the presence of mind to look apologetic.

"Sir." She said respectfully.

"I expect my aurors to be subtle. Pulling out a wand in the middle of a crowd…" he began but she interrupted him.

"I didn't even use a wand. Plus, it was a standard crowd control spell, that's what it's for…" Tonks interrupted.

"Are you going to keep interrupting me rookie?" Shacklebolt asked his tone hard.

"No sir, sorry sir." Tonks snapped to attention and tried to keep her face blank. Her hair though was another matter, cycling through different colours before it settled into a pale pink.

"Unless you have no choice, throwing magic around muggles is ill advised, a violation of the Statutes. You cannot just go in wands blazing, I need you to use your head. Understood?"

"Yes sir." She said immediately.

"Good, what should you have done then?" Shacklebolt leaned back in his seat and waited for her to gather her thoughts.

Tonks frowned, thinking. This was not the first time the Captain had asked her to think of alternative solutions to her work after the fact. She had hated it at first, thinking it was just a way for him to embarrass her even further, especially since the first time he had asked her to do so had been in front of the other rookies. But slowly she had come to see its merits.

"Edmore is known to be jumpy…" she began slowly. "I should have first ensured that he would not have any avenue of escape and quickly immobilized him." She looked at him in contemplation. She cringed when he gave her a deadpan look.

"An aggressive approach, as usual." He sighed tiredly. "You miss the obvious. There were two of you, yet you abandoned your partner on some misguided attempt at showing off…"

"Sir, I…" Tonks tried to say but the captain steamrolled right over her.

"It was reckless and stupid, and in any other situation could have possibly led to serious injury not just to yourself but your partner. There's a reason Aurors, especially junior Aurors work in teams."

"Yes sir." She said after a beat of silence.

"You may leave." Shacklebolt waved her off, turning his attention to the other reports on his desk.

"Sir." She saluted and turned to leave but hesitated at the door.

She looked back at her captain and steeled her nerves. She was a fresh rookie and most would not have dared to do what she was about to do. But Tonks liked to set herself apart from the norm, plus she knew that despite the hard line Shacklebolt took with her, he had a soft spot for her. At least she thought he had a soft spot; it was hard to tell. So swallowing down her nervousness, she pushed ahead.

"Sir, there's been rumours around the bull pen, about all these informants we are bringing in…" Shacklebolt looked at her quietly, his face impassive. She hesitated, "Is there truth to it all?"

"You're going to have to be more specific. There are a lot of rumours flying around the department." He said flatly.

"I um – apparently someone is planning something…" Tonks fumbled.

"Stay on the job long enough and you'll learn that someone is always planning something." He said not unkindly. Shacklebolt looked at her and then sighed, deciding to cut her some slack.

"All we know is that someone is playing with things that they shouldn't, a lot of untradable goods are disappearing off the black market, enough to draw our attention. We keep hearing the same name though, the Alchemist." He said with practiced carelessness.

"Is that all?" Tonks asked eagerly.

"It's all I'm willing to tell you." He shrugged. "Now go get cleaned up and finish all that paperwork I assigned you. Oh, and before I forget you're on desk duty for the next month, we have a backlog of paperwork and complaints and you will be going through them with a fine-tooth comb. Understood?" his tone turned hard.

"Yessir." She grimaced. She was getting off lightly, she knew but that didn't mean her punishment was something she would enjoy.

The Auror department dealt with a multitude of complaints every single day and many were often ridiculous, but someone had to always follow up. The department could never be accused of negligence. With a final nod the young Auror left the office.

Shacklebolt looked down at the other report on his desk and frowned. He may have seemed unconcerned when he had discussed the issue with Tonks but he was worried. Director Bones had pulled him off the vampire case temporarily. It was all hands on deck she had said. He could understand why; it wasn't often that someone bought out the black market's supply of both unicorn blood and manticore venom. Whatever foul machinations their culprit was planning they were sure to bear fruit soon. Maybe it was time to bring in those consultants., he mused.

---

"It's okay to miss them Hadrian. It's quite normal." Madam Pomfrey said kindly.

They were in her office, having a session. Pomfrey's office was actually quite airy, its colours light and inviting. The large window looked out to the forest beyond and the smell of flowers, light and fragrant, wafted into the room on a slight breeze.

Hadrian had initially had misgivings about talking to the Healer. It felt weird talking to someone who was not a friend or family about his inner thoughts. Madam Pomfrey may not have been a total stranger but he had not liked baring his soul. Still, aunt Minnie had put her foot down when she had learnt that he had been sneaking off to stare at the Mirror of Erised.

His misgivings had faded somewhat, in time. Madam Pomfrey, or Poppy as she insisted he call her when it was just the two of them, was quite casual, never pushing him to talk. They would talk about inane things and at the end of the hour he would find himself feeling just a little bit lighter. Eventually they had brushed upon his nightmares, digging a little bit into the whys.

Today though they were on the topic of his ill-fated encounter with the mirror.

"Most people don't end up trapped by a cursed mirror though." He said bitterly, his eyes glued to the floor.

"I suppose that's true. But then, how many people do encounter ancient enchanted mirrors." Poppy said soothingly.

"Padma wasn't." He said suddenly, to his own surprise. His tone tight. Still he continued, "She knew something was wrong and I – I didn't…" he said almost forlorn. His hand closed around his chair's armrest, his knuckles turning white.

"Does that make Padma better than you then? Stronger than you are?" Poppy prodded.

"No – yes. I don't know… Maybe." Hadrian shrunk into his chair, agitated.

The little trinkets in the room shook and rattled. Hadrian closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm himself. Soon enough everything settled and he opened his eyes to find Poppy smiling at him gently.

"So you believe you should have been able to tell that you were enchanted?" she asked, her voice nothing but curious.

Hadrian hesitated before he nodded with confidence he did not feel, "Yes."

"Why?" she asked plainly. Hadrian frowned; confusion clear on his face. She decided to elaborate.

"Why would you, an eleven-year-old, be able to tell that he was under an enchantment?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" Hadrian asked, his face scrunched.

For a moment Poppy thought that Hadrian was being smart with her but as she stared into his eyes, she saw the question for what it was; burning curiosity.

"Hadrian I know you are a clever boy, but despite that you are still just that – a boy, and there are things that you just don't know and aren't prepared for. What happened was unfortunate and you should have never been put into that sort of situation, a situation that wizards older and more powerful than you have struggled with." She looked at him then, her eyes full of compassion. "Just because someone your age was able to battle the enchantment, doesn't make you lesser. They are the exception and not the norm and you shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

There was a silence after Poppy's little spiel, neither of them saying anything. Hadrian knew she was right. Padma was an empath, something that Hadrian understood, at least intellectually but was still slowly coming to grips with – she had been able to literary feel the wrongness in the mirror while he had been all too susceptible.

Hadrian hated that, he knew he was gifted, academically and magically and yet all that had not mattered. The simple matter of it was that Padma was better and Hadrian was jealous… The thought, the realisation tasted bitter.

Poppy watched the dance of emotions play on Hadrian's face but said nothing. A large part of counselling was letting the person being counselled to work through their own emotions and come to their own conclusions. Perhaps he needed a little push.

"Let me ask you something," she drew his attention. "How many eleven year old do you know who are capable of trapping a troll and summoning a storm of lightning?"

Hadrian sat back, subdued, his face pained. She knew he did not like being reminded of what he had done to the troll, but it needed to be said. He need to understand.

Then Hadrian nodded, much more confidently this time around.

"I think I understand…" he intoned.

"I'm glad you do. Remember that if you ever need to talk, I'm here." She smiled softly before her eyes sparked with mischief. "Now tell me about that rune script you were looking into…"

They talked for a few more minutes, winding down their session. Their talk about nothing particularly serious; the school quidditch tournament, how his classes were going and all manner of small talk. Eventually Hadrian said his goodbyes and left. For a moment he stood outside the hospital wing, undecided.

He knew Padma and Hermione were probably outside, by the lake taking advantage of the warming weather. Neville was probably in the green houses. Ron and some of his housemates would probably be at the quidditch pitch. None of those prospects really interested him to be honest. He had been avoiding Padma for a few days now, things between them had been awkward ever since the Mirror.

Padma had wanted to talk afterwards, but Hadrian had brushed her off, unwilling to discuss it. His emotions had been in flux and so he had retreated, made distance. Hermione, bless her soul, had decided not to get involved; though he knew that Padma had told her what had happened. Still he knew Hermione wouldn't keep her thoughts to herself for long, that wasn't like the Gryffindor at all.

He sighed; he was probably overthinking things. Eyes clouding over, he let his mind trail down the familiar bond. Hedwig was out hunting. Feelings of affection flooded down their channel and filled him with warmth.

"Ow." He said more surprised than hurt. A paper plane was hovering in front of him, its tip crumpled from when it had jabbed his forehead.

Irritated, Hadrian snatched the piece of enchanted paper forcefully. He had seen the paper planes around the school, a whimsical way of communicating he thought. It did require that one be at least familiar with the recipient's magical signature. Grumbling under his breath, Hadrian unfolded the missive.

Hadrian,

Would you care for a spot of tea with an old woman?

Perenelle.

It was brief and straight to the point. Hadrian only had to weigh his options for a brief second before he shrugged. He had nothing better to do and the ancient witch had a way of always making their encounters interesting.

The Flamels' rooms were on the third floor, in the west wing of the ancient castle. It didn't take Hadrian long to get there. Looking at the plain door he knocked, three crisp knocks and waited. The door swung open on silent hinges, beckoning him in. He entered and stopped.

Hadrian had visited the Flamel apartment, as it was called these days, before. The door opened into a very comfortable parlour, large windows on the far side gave a spectacular view of the lake. A fireplace was off to the side with a couple of comfortable leather chairs spread out around it. The parlour was warm and idyllic and he fondly remembered the last time he had shared tea with Perenelle.

The sight that greeted him as he crossed the threshold was vastly different. The room looked like a warzone – bits of glass and masonry covered the plush carpet, chairs were upturned and broken. The very air hung heavy with residual magic. What had happened here, was it an experiment gone wrong?

It was certainly possible, the Flamels were magical researchers and accidents happened; though a large part of himself doubted this was accidental. Hadrian tensed, feeling unsure. Hesitantly, he took a few more steps inside. A heavy click announced the door closing and locking behind him.

Hadrian cursed. He grabbed the door and pulled and it didn't even budge. He quickly pulled out his wand and pointed at the door, Alohamora.

The spell impacted the door and fizzled, having no effect. He cursed again. That was the only spell he knew for unlocking doors and it had failed. Something was definitely wrong. Where was Perenelle? She should have been here. A sound, something heavy had him looking around. His eyes fell on the partially opened door to his left. He knew where that led; the Flamels' lab.

Tense and afraid, he crept forward, his wand held ready and his magic bubbling in nervous anticipation. He paused at the door, warring with himself. He shouldn't be here. He glanced back at the door and the destroyed room and shook his head. He pushed the door and gasped out surprised.

"Perenelle!"

The woman was seemingly unconscious and chained to a chair. Her clothes torn and bloody from several cuts on her body. Throwing caution to the wind he rushed to her.

"Perenelle! Perenelle." He shook her frantically.

The woman groaned and her eyes fluttered, unfocused. Her face was scratched, her nose was broken, spilling blood down her jaw and neck. Hadrian tugged at the chains and immediately cried out in pain. The moment he had touched them, it had felt like so many bees had stung his hand. His shout seemed to jolt Perenelle into her present reality. Her eyes immediately found his face and filled with frantic horror.

"No! You have to go. Right now! Go!" She looked beyond him, looking crazed; her eyes alit with genuine terror.

There was a sound between a whizz and sizzle. Hadrian tried to turn, to bring his wand to bear, but there was nothing he could do. The spell slammed into his side with bruising force, lifting him up and sent him pinwheeling across the room. He slammed hard against the floor, rolling into a heap.

His vision was swimming and little arcs of light darted past his eyes. He wheezed out a breath and felt his ribs protest. His senses were shouting at him, he needed to get up. He shakily pushed himself up onto unsteady feet.

The distinct clicking of heels on stone had him looking up. A shadow peeled itself from the corner, inky blackness melting and sliding off the slight but masculine frame to reveal a familiar visage. Hadrian felt a lump of cold dread solidify in his gut, its icy fingers creeping up his limbs, making him numb.

"I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere Mr Potter." Professor Quirrell said almost sounding sincere except for that little self-satisfied smile he was sporting.

Quirrell stretched out his arm towards Hadrian, fingers splayed out in a grabbing motion. Hadrian felt a giant invisible hand wrap invisible fingers around him and lift him up. Before Hadrian could even think of struggling or mounting some sort of magical counter, he found himself dumped at Quirrell's feet.

"Hadrian no!" Perenelle's shout fell on deaf ears. Hadrian surged up wand up and glowing.

" Diffindo! "

Hadrian pushed as much magic as he could through the wand, massively overpowering the spell. A bolt of silver shot towards Quirrell. For the barest moment the professor looked surprised before years of experience had him smoothly move his body.

One foot going behind and turning his torso inward, Quirrell met the spell with his own glowing wand. Hadrian watched as the professor bated the spell aside with contemptuous ease.

Awe battled with helplessness; the latter winning as faster than Hadrian could track, Quirrell's wand blurred. There was a flash of red as another spell barrelled into Hadrian's chest and he felt his wand ripped out of his hands. In the next moment, Hadrian felt his body seize up, going stiff. All he found himself able to do was move his eyes.

"Well that could have been unpleasant." Quirrell sniffed, looking at the wall where Hadrian's deflected spell had hit. The stone walls looking like a great beast had raked its claws over them. Quirrell grimaced, he was glad he had been able to deflect that, it had not been as easy as he had made it look.

The boy was powerful, of that there was no doubt and even now he could feel the boy struggling against the petrification. The boy's magic trying to push against Quirrell's own power. He felt a prodding within the depths of his mind, the master was getting impatient. Turning away from his scrutiny of the masonry, Quirrell turned to his first captive.

The woman – she had put up quite the fight and it was virtue of the element of surprise that he had bested her. He grimaced as his side throbbed. His victory was not without cost though.

"Now Mrs Flamel, I believe I have managed to procure proper incentive." Quirrel said with faux pleasantness.

The woman's response was a snarl. "Let him go! He has nothing to do with this." She stared at Hadrian whose eyes were filled with equal parts fear and confusion. The boy was suspended, levitating a few inches off the floor. A parody of a puppet whose master had yet to decide what to do.

"Tell me how to get the stone and I'll let him go." Quirrell offered.

"You'll kill us the moment you have it." Perenelle scoffed.

Quirrell hummed curiously as he felt the boy grow frantic under his spell, his magic straining. The woman was right of course, neither of the two would be leaving alive, especially the boy, his master demanded it. Quirrell gestured and Hadrian floated toward him, stopping only a few feet before the chained woman.

"Well either you choose a quick painless death or an agonizing one." He smiled, his face turning cruel.

The woman grit her teeth and glared. She would endure he knew; the woman had taken his Cruciatus curse like a champ. Torture clearly would not work on her. He turned and jabbed the wand into Hadrian's side. Her eyes widened in dawning horror and he relished the scent of her fear. "Choose for his sake…" Quirrell intoned.

Hadrian screamed and flailed, pain overcoming his immobilization as hundreds of volts of electricity coursed and bit into him.

"Stop! Please!" Perenelle shouted out and watched as yellow lightning zipped all over the young boy's body, his back arched in pain, a scream tearing past his lips. The lightning stopped as abruptly as it came.

Hadrian slumped forward, still floating. His chest heaved frantically trying to take in sweet cool air. The boy's body shook and twitched.

"Well?" Quirrell asked. Perenelle looked pained and resigned.

"You can't get it, not as you are. The mirror won't let you…" The woman gibbered, her eyes never leaving Hadrian's twitching form. Quirrell felt confused and opened his mouth – but it was not his voice that next spoke.

"Enough of this foolishness." The voice was cold and sibilant, radiating malice. Quirrell paled, Perenelle looked around franticly searching for the source. Hadrian gasped in pain, his head, his scar burning.

"Master…m-my lord…" Quirrell stuttered.

In any other situation Perenelle would have been amused at this sudden transformation of the man. Yet, if this once cunning and powerful man could be reduced to such a state, what awaited her.

"Let me speak to them." The voice commanded.

"But master you are not strong enough – the boy…"

"I am strong enough for this." The voiced hissed darkly.

Quirrell seemed resigned and took three quick steps away from them and then he did the strangest thing. He unwrapped his turban. Immediately the smell of decay assaulted Perenelle's nose and something malicious pressed at the edges of her perception. It was dark and foul magic.

"No." Hadrian whispered, yet his voice carried across the room. The boy was pale, his face a rictus of flabbergasted horror.

"I'm glad you recognize me boy. I was not sure you would after our last encounter in the forest…." Quirrell dropped the turban fully revealing what could only be a face at the back of his head. Sickly and pale, malformed and sinister, red eyes stared with barely contained fury at Hadrian.

"You're supposed to be dead…" Hadrian couldn't tear his eyes away, his scar was throbbing, burning a hole straight to his brain, yet he could not look away.

Here was the phantom from his dreams, the monster who had torn his world asunder and even as reduced as he was, Hadrian feared him.

"Voldemort." Perenelle said disbelievingly. The face turned to her, Quirrell moving backwards, until Voldemort stood before her.

"Now you will tell me what I want to know." Voldemort hissed.

"I…" Perenelle began but Voldemort cut her off.

"Legilimens! " Voldemort screamed.

Perenelle's eyes rolled up into the back of her skull and she let out a silent scream, her body locking up. It lasted a few moments before the woman slumped back down, out of breath and her face ashen and aged.

"Use the boy…" Voldemort said, his voice laboured. Hadrian found his body turning without his permission and for the first time he noticed what was on the other side of the room. It was a large ornate mirror; one he was quite familiar with.

"You reduced me to this state Potter and you will be the instrument of my rebirth." Voldemort intoned.

Hadrian stared into the depths of the mirror, afraid and filled with dreadful anticipation. Curiously, there was already an image within the depths of the mirror. A stone plinth sat innocuously in the centre of the mirror and on top of that was a red stone, uncut and unrefined, yet exceedingly valuable; the Philosopher's Stone.

"No!" Hadrian tried to move away, but Quirrell jabbed him with his wand and Hadrian stumbled forward. He looked up and saw his form in the mirror. Pale and bruised, his robes still smoking, his mirror self stood by the plinth and grinned.

"What do you see boy?" Quirrell asked, impatient.

"My parents." The lie fell easily from Hadrian's lips, surprising even himself.

Hadrian watched, spellbound as his mirror self reached for the stone and plucked it off the stone and easily pocketed it. His image grinned one last time and patted his pocket, oozing self-satisfaction and then faded out of view. Hadrian froze - there was a weight in his pocket – his heart started beating faster and faster, adrenaline flooding his veins.

"The boy lies! Check him." Voldemort screamed.

Hadrian exploded into action, he spun around, his leg snapping out and catching Quirrell in the knee. There was a sickening crunch, Quirrell buckled falling even as he howled in pain and rage. Hadrian wasted no time and threw another kick, connecting with the man's face. Quirrell crumpled and Hadrian ran as fast as he could towards Perenelle.

"No, no. Leave me. Go." The woman screamed. She looked up and her eyes widened. "Down!"

Hadrian threw himself to the ground. A spell whooshed over him, powerful and green. It impacted the wall blasting it black. Hadrian instinctively rolled to his right as another spell hit the floor. He felt cool wood against his hand and almost smiled.

Wrapping his fingers around his wand he sprung up and threw a spell at the teacher. His spell splashed against a silver shield and Hadrian cursed. Desperately Hadrian threw a few more cutting spells, trying to bring his power to bear but his body hurt and his magic felt sluggish and weak.

"Illuminatos. " Desperate and running out of ideas, Hadrian threw the magical equivalent of a flash bang. There was a high-pitched whine as the spell crashed against the shield and exploded. Hadrian instinctively shut his eyes but he still found himself blinded. He couldn't hear anything, his ears were ringing.

He stumbled toward where he thought the exit was. Instincts and magic screamed at him to move. Disoriented and half blind, he could only manage to barely jump to the side. It saved his life – the spell exploded with the subtlety of a raging bull, ripping a hole into the stone floor, sending shrapnel and him flying. His head hurt, his eyes burned, pretty much his entire body hurt. He groaned and tried to get up, a boot to the chest stopped him.

He looked up and there was Quirrell, smug and victorious. Hadrian tried to struggle, but with the foot on his chest he could barely move.

"So dies Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived." Quirrell raised his wand, the tip glowing an electric green.

Hadrian's struggles became frantic, instinct telling him that he did not want any part of that spell near him. Hadrian clawed at the leg holding him down, yet it remained unmoving. The wand was coming down, Quirrell was saying an incantation, but Hadrian could not register whatever it was. His hand found purchase on the man's bare leg and the world exploded in pain.

Hadrian heard someone scream and realised it wasn't just Quirrell, but him too. Then it stopped, the screaming and the pain and Hadrian could breathe again. Taking large gulps of air, Hadrian struggled up, propping himself on his elbows.

"It hurts, damn it hurts…" Quirrell was sprawled on the floor, mumbling.

"Get up you fool, get up. You are a wizard, use your wand!" Voldemort shouted voice muffled but enraged.

Hadrian looked at his hands, they looked red and raw, just like Quirrell's leg. He quickly noticed Quirrell's wand lying inches from the man's hand. Quirrell made to grasp his focus and Hadrian lunged. Unthinking and unflinching, Hadrian threw himself atop the older man and his hands dug into Quirrell's face.

The pain was overwhelming and yet desperate and afraid Hadrian bore it. Quirrell screamed as his flesh burned, the skin drying and flaking away. Quirrell's screams were then joined by another sound, more piercing and otherworldly but no less pained. Voldemort screamed as whatever effect Hadrian's flesh found him. Quirrell bucked and flailed, but Hadrian clung on, his vision blurring and his scar the centrepiece of the bonfire that was his entire body.

Yet he kept watching and feeling as a man shriveled, and his skin turning to dust, under him. Something exploded from beneath him and Hadrian finally lost his grip, but it was too late for Quirrell, he knew that.

Rolling onto his back he watched as what could only be Voldemort escaped the dying body. Shooting up as a cloud of dust and ash, the face screamed one final time before it shot up into the ceiling passing through unencumbered, escaping.

Hadrian could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness, darkness creeping into his vision.

Then the door exploded, sending bits and pieces of splinter everywhere.

"Hadrian!" His last sight was a pair of worried eyes and soft hands and then he knew no more as he succumbed to oblivion.

---

Authors Note: Well that took a while. I sort of lost the thread for a while and couldn't figure out the exact tone for this chapter, so if it feels a bit disjointed I hope you understand. Someone reviewed about some formatting issues and I honestly can't figure out why some lines have more spaces between them than others so I dunno. But anyway, I'm done with Hadrian's first year, it was probably always going to be the hardest to write for me because well our hero isn't exactly a badass yet nor is that changing anytime soon but give it time. Anyway as usual all critiques are welcome, they definitely help me figure out how to go about this.

Hope you enjoy this and please leave a review

Edited 23-05-2024

Fixed some formatting issues and tweaked the dialogues a bit. The scene with the mirror of erised between Padma and Hadrian has been more fleshed out, i realised that i never conveyed as much as i should have.