The Devil's Son

No escape

He walked under the trees canopy, it's shade unnecessary on the grey, miserable day. Even the whomping willow look deflated, bored. In any other situation Hadrian would have found himself sitting in the common room with his friends, playing games or working. Unfortunately Harry hadn't even made it to the dungeons before once again being forced to hide from his newest professor. At first the werewolf had been subtle in his attempts, short conversations after class, poorly hidden glances. It hadn't taken long however for the DADA teacher to break down, and had practically been stalking him ever since. Luckily for Hade it was a full moon tonight, so the man didn't dare leave the castle, giving Harry some form of solitude. Each conversation had always led to tales of his parents, ways to involve himself in the life of Harry Potter. It hadn't taken long to deduce that he had been a friend of the Potter's and saw Harry as his 'cub'. He almost felt bad at the man's hopeless attempts. He would if it weren't for the fact it was causing a delicious amount of chaos. Severus was in turmoil, his terrified glances creating no end of amusement for him. Dumbledore was also acting strangely, apparently he'd hoped the werewolf would endear him, bring him to the light. If only he knew just how far gone Hadrian was. As if Morningstar wasn't enough of a clue.

Despite the delicious chaos, Harry wasn't happy. Not at all. The near constant attention prevented him from speaking to the dark lord, or communicating with his family. As hurt as he had been, he missed his father and uncles. Even if they were lying bastards. They always had been, it's what he'd loved about them, but they had never been such a way to him. He understood, however why they had not told him, and if he still had a heart it would be warmed by their actions. Attempting to protect him even from fate. It appeared that was any parent job, even a demonic one. He was drawn from his introspection by a grinning spectre adorned in bright purple robes and golden stars. It was atrocious, and he looked up at the Headmaster in disgust. Either the old man didn't notice or didn't care, as continued to grin down at him.

"Hello my boy, may I sit?" The old wizard took a seat before he could even answer, irking him. "What are you doing out here on such a day Harry?" He bit down the urge to reply sarcastically with 'sitting' and instead turned his eyes skyward wishing lightening would strike down and rid him of the pest. "Trying to get some peace," he replied through gritted teeth. Of course the fool did not take the hint. "Ah that I can understand, I myself often come here to hide from Minerva's scolding." The wizard chuckled as if this was some amusing inside joke that Harry was a part of. He most certainly was not. "Is there something I can help you with headmaster?" The old man hummed, gazing towards him with a wise expression, obviously preparing to impart some great wisdom. Hardly. "Harry my boy, I understand Remus has been attempting to speak to you and you've rebuffed his attempts."

He curved the urge to scoff at the polite wording, the wolf had been hounding him, pun intended, whilst Hadrian had begun to outright ignore him. "I've spoken to Professor Lupin many times in class." He received a disapproving look at this response. "He was a dear friend of your parents you know. I'm sure you would both enjoy speaking of them." Hadrian began to wonder when exactly the old man would realise he truly had no attachment to the Potters. "My father and my friends are more than enough. I'll let the dead stay dead." He received only a heavy sigh as an answer before a long silence fell. "My dear boy, I would not push away friends and allies. Especially not in times such as these." This drew Harry's suspicions, and he turned to look at the headmaster. "What do you mean by these times?" He received a pleased look at that, as if he hadn't expected him to pick up on it. He hadn't been subtle exactly. Did Dumbledore think he was dense? "These are troubled times my boy. Not everything is as for seems and many unknown players hide in the shadows. You will understand when the time comes my boy." The nonsense pushed him over the edge, and he decided to no longer entertain the fool. "Okay then."

He spoke plainly before standing and walking away without a goodbye, rushing back to the castle in the hopes he could salvage his good mood with his friends. He unfortunately had no such luck, bumping into a Gryffindor, Cormac McLaggan he believed. The older year smirked down at him with a usual condescending look. "Out of the way McLaggan!" The smirk only deepened and he took a step forward, blocking the hallway. "I don't think I will traitor." He took a deep breath, reigning back his temper. "How exactly am I a traitor?" A glare took over the older boys features, looking at Hadrian in disgust. "Any friend of a death eater is a traitor, especially the boy who lived." The insult to his friends was the last straw, and his features changed into the amorphous shadowy creature that was his demon form, proceeding to consume McLaggan in pain, despair and chaos.