Consuming Shadows

Chapter 19

If the boy did create this projection, Voldemort had no doubt it would be clawing at him, shredding him, viciously attacking at whatever fell into its grasp. Instead, it was almost placid, and that was not in the boy's nature.

If he had to guess, he would say that it was planted here by someone else – someone who had an impressive amount of magic at their disposal, and an innate talent with the mind arts.

But more than that, they would have had to have had extensive access to Hadrian's mind, because this was no small feat, constructing defences in another's mind. It would have required months – even years, depending on the caster – of repeated visits to build the base, and then to grow it into what it was today.

There were very few people who he would bet Hadrian trusted enough to allow into his mind so often, and from such a young age. The boy was what, seventeen? They would have had to wait until his magical core was developed enough to accept such a presence in his mind, which would – most likely – place him around six to eight when this began.

The most obvious choice would be his mother. And that was entirely curious because he had been told by the boy himself that his mother barely held enough magic to make potions. A snippet of information he was intimately aware of mirroring his own pathetic mother.

And during his brief introduction to Hadrian's mother, while he had noted her fiery personality and the dangerous intelligence in her green eyes, he had not sensed any significant amount of magic in her.

Of course, it was possible there was another figure in Hadrian's life that he would trust to do this, someone he was not aware of.

An aunt or uncle perhaps? An older cousin?

He had been positive though that there was no extended family on his mother's side, the woman being a descendant from a long line of squibs that lingered on the edges of magical society. Her parents had passed years ago, and there had been no other children. And his father was of muggle heritage, so there was no chance of the caster being from his side.

How fascinating. So it must be a close friend.

However, his mother did not strike him as a woman content to allow anyone to get too close to her child. The way she had so blatantly lied to their faces, just to scurry her son away from him was telling enough.

It was so odd a reaction, though what had caught his attention was not the anger in her gaze, or the way she had scanned him with suspicion. It had been the glint of possessiveness.

He had only approached the woman in the first place because he knew Hadrian would stop his amusing avoidance tactics if he perceived his mother to be in any form of discomfort or danger.

"I love her."

He had only ended up with more questions though, ones he would get an answer to, now that he had been gifted with this remarkable opportunity.

But first he had to get out of this.

Very few things were infallible, and while Hadrian had consistently shown he was far from average, he was not skilled enough to keep him trapped here indefinitely.

Age did play a factor in cases such as this, after all, and for all his power, the boy was still a boy. In the face of someone such as him, who held years of experience and more power in comparison, Hadrian was at a severe disadvantage.

Slowly, Voldemort reached out and concentrated, feeling mentally for the edges of these shadows, his determination fighting against the child's in a fierce battle for dominance.

It could have been seconds, it could have been minutes, but eventually Hadrian's magic faltered.

Voldemort smirked, and pounced on the weakness with glee. He grasped at the trembling shadow and pulled.