Back In Time

Chapter 8

HADRIAN'S POV

Riddle and I made our way down to the Slytherin table, all eyes were on us as we continued to make our way towards the table when we came up to his spot his little DE's looked up at me, "Corban make room for Hadrian," Riddle said with a sharp smile, I watched as Lestrange glared at me but made room for me on the left of Riddle.

As Riddle looked up at me as he sat down the question obvious, I sat down on his left begrudgingly. "So where are you from Peverell?" Lestrange sneered from beside me, "Well are we talking about my last home, or where I last visited?" I queried, "Both," Lestrange answered not even hesitating, I looked back into the memories death gave me, "France was my last home, I was originally living in Wales with my family, my mother and father had moved there from Britain upon my birth, we moved to France when we heard Grindelwald was after us, I was the only one that made it... I stayed in France for approximately three or four years before I started moving again, I stayed in hotels and inherited properties. I guess I was more of nomad for the last three years," as I spoke I watched everyone's reactions, so far all of them kept their pure blood masks on perfectly, "How old were you when you lost your parents?" I looked towards the voice to see that it was Black who spoke, "I was at the ripe and tender age of 9," I said with a wide grin, I watched as most of the DEs' eyes widened comically. "So you are an orphan?" Riddle asked, I simply nodded as a response. "Is it true that the Dark Lord is after you?" Lestrange asked, "Yes and judging by the paper that made my whole existence known, I'll most likely be hunted again," I said this with a grin, "Doesn't that bother you?" this time Malfoy spoke, although his face was carefully blank I could still see the curiosity burning in his eyes, "Being hunted? No. The probability I might be captured again? Not really. Being caught by scraggly man again... definitely. The torture? Not the worst that's happened to me," I shrugged and began to pile food onto my plate, "How could you have gone through worse torture than that of the Dark Lord?" Lestrange sneered again, 'Hmmm... let me think... I had to deal with a psychopath teacher. Then had to fight a bloody basilisk. I had the fright of my life meeting the remaining connection to my parents, I also had to deal with dementors at the same time, only to also figure out that my professor at the time was a werewolf. I was then forced to join a suicidal game that nearly got me killed on multiple occasions, I seriously had to fight I Hungarian Horntail. I then had to deal with a professor who apparently didn't know that blood quills were illegal, then only to try and save my remaining family only for him to be killed off by a psychotic witch. Then finally something good happened which was a manipulative bastard dying, though only for it to continue later in my life. Then I was on the run looking for horcruxes while being chased by an evil and psychotic dark lord... I would say I've been through worse.' I thought to myself bitterly, instead I plastered on a big smile and looked at him, "If only you knew," I watched him try and hide a shiver as I then continued to try and eat my lunch. "What is it that Grindelwald wants from you?" I looked over at a boy I don't remember being introduce to, "That's confidential," I said with a wink.

TOM'S POV

I couldn't help but ignore what my knights were asking Peverell, I was to busy trying to find a way into his head. It's not like I couldn't read it... it was just strange all his thoughts were in a different language, some I could recognize, for instance the French, German, Swedish, Spanish, Latin, and Greek, but the rest was just gibberish. Even the things I could understand didn't make any sense, like the thought I was reading right know in French, "L'anatomie est la forme la plus puissante de mon cricket à la bière de bureau," which roughly translates to "Anatomy is the most powerful form of my desk root beer cricket." No matter how I looked at it, it was idiotic, and besides what in the bloody hell is root beer cricket? I was pulled out of my thoughts when something in Hadrian's mind caught my attention it was extraordinarily long and in a language I didn't quite understand, it sounded similar to low groans and hisses, almost likely a dead corps ranting, the language was curious, pity I couldn't understand. I finally focused on the conversation, "That's confidential," Peverell said with a wink, I cocked my brow at him as he looked at me, "I haven't heard of a Riddle before... are you a muggle born?" Peverell asked me, I noticed that instantly all of my knights stiffened, "No. I am a half blood, my mother was a Gaunt and my father was a Riddle hence my name," I said coolly, Peverell nodded, "So you're the last of the Gaunt's?" He asked. I ground my teeth... why is he so nosy? "Yes I am the last of the Gaunt's," I said looking at him with disguised annoyance, he looked like he was contemplating something, "You could always change your last name to Gaunt," Peverell finally said, "I am," I replied making eye contact with Peverell he simply nodded and turned back to his food. I peered into Peverell's mind once again only to come across a phrase, it was in Latin, "Mors mihi lucrum," Peverell's mind was blank other than that phrase being repeated, anywhere I looked in his mind I came across that phrase, then I realized it must be another defense of his mind to keep people distracted from what he was really thinking... how intriguing... annoying... but intriguing. I noticed that Peverell was smirking at the teachers table, I looked over only to see that Dumbledore looked utterly confused... so Peverell wasn't a fan of the old coot... good.