The Allure of Darkness

Faith (Part I)

Hadrian frowned, "I don't remember telling you anything."

"You didn't. But you also never checked the books you would loan me on the Dark Arts," Hermione pointed out smugly. "This 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' had signed his name in nearly every single book you gave me. "

"Sounds like father," Hadrian sighed. "Always so self-obsessed."

"Granted, it wasn't always in the same place, but I didn't mind looking. It became clear to me that you were getting these books from him. But I couldn't find any record of him anywhere, even though he clearly was alive. I was lost," Hermione explained. "Until I noticed some doodles in a book you gave me in third year."

"Doodles? You figured everything out from a set of scribbles?" Draco repeated, skepticism reflected all over his face. "What kind of doodles?"

"The usual signatures, random scribbles, and oh yes–one very specific one that showed me very clearly how the name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' was an anagram," Hermione smiled.

"An anagram? For what?" Blaise asked. "Mild doormat lover?" He wrinkled his nose, deep in thought as he tried again, "Marmot drool devil?"

"No, you idiot," Hadrian snapped. "I am Lord Voldemort."

"Yes," Hermione drawled out the word. "Suddenly everything started to click. I was going to confront you about it last year, but with the tournament and everything, we clearly had bigger problems."

"If you've known all along, why didn't you say something?" Hadrian pursed his lips. "You had to see the reports of bloodshed and all the propaganda against my fath–against Lord Voldemort."

"I was going to bring it up eventually," Hermione wrung her hands together in her lap. "But then I noticed the attacks I used to hear about suddenly became more and more infrequent. Almost like the dark lord was taking a break."

"I guess you could call it that," Draco conceded, sharing an amused look with Hadrian. "He technically was taking a break."

"Yeah, because he was six feet under," Neville snorted.

Hermione's eyes widened. "You know Who," She began hesitantly, "He's already dead?"

Hadrian quirked his lips up into what they all assumed was a smile. "Yes," He said plainly. "Although I considered him to be the closest thing to a father in my life, even I could admit he was a little unstable."

"A little unstable?" Destiny echoed. She paused in running her fingers lazily through Neville's hair to shoot her brother an annoyed glance, "Try absolutely fucking insane. He made the other blood-thirsty psychopaths look normal."

"Well," Hadrian began nonchalantly, "We can't all be lucky enough to have just a regular blood-thirsty psychopath as our guardian."

"Bella isn't a psychopath," Destiny defended her mother. "She can just be a little misguided sometimes."

Hadrian cleared his throat, not wanting to get into that issue right now. "Anyways," He turned his head towards Hermione once more. "I realized we had to get rid of him because he was focused on creating chaos rather than change. His values did not align with ours."

"And what exactly are your values?" Hermione challenged. "Are you trying to wipe out the entire muggleborn race too?"

"I think your presence in this room answers your question," Daphne pointed out.

"No, I want to hear it," Hermione insisted. "What exactly is your plan now that you've gotten rid of You-Know-Who? Are you starting up your own mass-genocide? Let me guess, this time you want to eliminate all the red-heads from your new regime."