Consuming Shadows

Chapter 4

He smiled bitterly, "People like to watch life-threatening and thrilling events right up until someone dies. It might not the eighteenth century anymore, but our nature hasn't changed much. The only difference is we like to pretend to be better than we are. If one of the champions dies, people will be outraged, regardless of the fact that moments before they were heartedly condoning it."

He shook his head and breathed a harsh laugh. "Hypocrisy at its best."

"So you are scared because there is a chance of death, but also because of the ramifications of that death?"

Hadrian shrugged again, "I suppose so."

Raina tilted her head in consideration, and Hadrian felt a jolt of surprise that they had managed to have a civil conversation for this long. Either Raina was terribly bored and was willing to use him as a form of mental stimulation, or she really was interested in what he was saying.

"I can see your point," She said a few moments later, "it's rather well thought out. Are you scared for yourself?"

"Why would I be scared for myself?"

Three sharp claps cut off whatever Raina was going to say as the two of them turned their attention to Madame Maxime who stood towards the front of their lines. "When we leave you will form three lines in front of the dignitaries and await further instruction. I expect you all to hold yourselves with poise."

Without further ado, the carriage doors swung open and like a stream of water they were departing the carriage.

Hadrian felt his gut clench in fear. He wanted nothing more than to stop this entire travesty before it began and go back home.

However, he was too well trained to allow any of his unease to creep into his expression, so his footsteps never once faltered and his posture remained strong even though his heart was hammering and his magic humming just beneath his skin.

Hadrian closed his eyes just before he exited the carriage, taking the steps by memory and only opening them once he felt sunlight hit his face.

Wordlessly they formed into the requested three lines and stood quietly. Hadrian let his eyes roam over those assembled to greet them, unintentionally seeking out one in particular.

There.

Towards the side a tall figure stood cloaked in smooth black robes that, while plain and lacking some of the stylish embroidery some of the others had, somehow emphasised the man's presence.

Hadrian had only ever seen photographs of the Dark Lord, most fleeting images of his features thanks to the hood he usually wore. But the black and white figures that had moved in the newspaper could not compare to the man in real life.

There was no drawn hood today, and for the first time in his life Hadrian was allowed an unobstructed view of his father's murderer.

Voldemort was positively disturbing with his tall, skeletal body, bone-white hairless skin, flat nose and gleaming red eyes. He looked like a figure out of one's worst nightmare, a monster made all the more terrifying because he was human.

Hadrian studied the figure as subtly as possible, scanning the man and taking in as many details as he could in this time. The sooner he put together an accurate idea of the man the easier this entire trip would be.

His mother had always told him observation was crucial when dealing with your enemies. The more you saw, the more you understood, the less likely you were to make mistakes. So he used his eyes.

The first impression he got from the Dark Lord was power, not that he was surprised at that. The very air around the man was practically saturated with his magic, projecting his presence to all and demanding attention. Hadrian could see he was not the only one watching Voldemort, nearly all the dignitaries were tilted in the man's direction in a show of subconscious deference.