Slytherin Dormitory [April 24th]
Neville let out a strangled sort of noise at Hermione's accusation. He shook his head vehemently, "We're not lying. We're not–" He grimaced, "We're not Death Eaters."
"Oh really?" Hermione sneered, "Then what are you? Junior Death Eaters?"
"Now that's just insulting," Blaise complained. He scratched his head, "I prefer the term 'Death-Eater adjacent'."
"That's not a real thing," Hermione's brows knit together in disbelief. "You cannot seriously go around calling yourselves that."
"Of course not," Draco shot Blaise an annoyed look, "Look– "
"I just want to know the truth," She demanded, staring at her so-called friends. Her shoulders nearly trembled in righteous anger as she spat, "I think you owe me that much, at least."
Hadrian peered at her thoughtfully from across the room for a moment. Though he was wary of telling his muggleborn friend everything, he had always known that he couldn't hide the truth from her forever. She was, after all, the brightest witch of their age. Eventually he knew that she would figure it out.
And she had been right, none of them were particularly subtle.
Sensing he really had no other choice, he let out a heavy sigh. Daphne squeezed his hand, allowing him to relax ever so slightly as he settled back into the cushy armchair.
"To be clear," He began quietly, "We technically aren't Death Eaters. Death Eaters were my father's soldiers."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Your father as in," She paused and forced out, "You-Know-Who?"
Hadrian felt a hint of surprise flicker across his face. "How did you– "
"It wasn't particularly hard," She interrupted him. "I never believed you were an orphan for even a second. You know orphans don't wear 300 galleon shoes, right?"
She rolled her eyes. "Even if the Malfoys supposedly raised you, it didn't make sense to me. I knew something was off all the way back in first year. But I decided to do some digging before forming any kind of theory. I wanted to know who you were. It took me all of two weeks in the library to connect you to the elusive Tom Riddle."
"Two weeks?" Neville repeated with a frown. He looked up at Destiny, "But it took me all of first year to figure it out."
She hid a smile and patted his hand soothingly, "I know, sweetie."
"I tried to ask myself why you would keep that from me," Hermione continued, as though Neville hadn't spoken. "Why would anyone lie about being an orphan?"
"Sympathy points with the ladies," Blaise answered. He looked up when he realized everyone was staring at him in silence. He crossed his arms defensively across his chest, "What? You asked."
"I think it was a rhetorical question, Blaise," Daphne shook her head at him.
"Well maybe next time you should specify that," He mumbled to himself, gesturing towards Hermione, "Carry on."
"It just didn't make sense to me," Hermione frowned. "In second year, I tried to do more research into this 'Tom Riddle' but I couldn't find any more information. It was as though history had completely erased his very existence."
"So, then what? You went back to the library?" Draco smirked knowingly.
"No," She scowled at him. "Hadrian actually gave me a new lead. He quite literally handed me the answer to all my questions."
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."
"That would take care of all the Weasleys," Neville contemplated the idea.
"We can't get rid of Fred and George, they're my friends," Destiny argued. "Ginevra stays too."
"Not Ginevra," Blaise said darkly from his position on the floor. "We have to get rid of her."
"But then you'll upset Astoria, and I don't want to upset my sister. Ginevra has to stay." Daphne reasoned.
"She is a Slytherin," Neville agreed. "And we can't just get rid of every girl who rejected you, Blaise. That would be a mass-genocide in itself."
"Not to mention, we'd be eliminating a large chunk of the only girls smart enough to not fall for our Casanova here. That would leave us with so many idiots," Destiny said seriously.
"I can assure you, the list of girls who have rejected me is very short," Blaise growled. "And it's a work in progress. They can't resist me forever."
Hermione stared at her friends incredulously.
"Sorry," Daphne hid the smile that played at her lips. "To answer your question, no, we are not eliminating all red-heads."
"Thanks," Hermione said flatly. "I was so worried."
Hadrian rolled his eyes, "Hermione, we aren't against muggleborns. We simply want to make it easier for muggleborns to exist in our world. We want them to have the same appreciation for magic as you do. Under my father's rule, that wasn't even possible."
"So, then what exactly are you trying to accomplish here?" Hermione arched a brow. "If you revealed everything to the public right now, you'd be praised for defeating You Know Who. You'd be a hero. Why are you not coming forward?"
"There's more to this war than just the hatred of muggleborns," Draco spoke up. "The entire Ministry is corrupt and filled with people who cannot appreciate the beauty of magic. Our current laws only benefit those in power," He paused and added, "Or those that are Dumbledore's favorites."
Hadrian nodded, "In order to maintain their hold over the wizarding public, the people currently in power have restricted and banned so many forms of magic. They labelled it as dark and destructive, but they forget that there is no such thing. The difference between light and dark magic lies in its– "
"Intention, I know," Hermione finished his sentence. She bit her lip, "They're really censoring knowledge? Because it would give other people more power?"
"They would do anything to keep their power," Draco shrugged. "They're no saints. They're just as horrible as they claim our side to be. The only difference is that they control the narrative. They can do practically anything they want without question. Our dear headmaster just tried to make you join their side with lies. They told you that wekilled your father when you know that's furthest from the truth. They would say anything as long as it benefited them."
"Dumbledore even violated your mind without your permission, Hermione," Blaise reminded her. "He knows it's illegal, but he also knows nobody would believe you over him. I bet he thought you wouldn't even be able to notice it."
A dark look fell over Daphne's pretty features, "They claim to be good; they claim to be welcoming and open and accepting. The Weasleys and the Potters are supposed to be on the so-called 'Light Side', but tell me, have they ever made you feel welcome?"
Hermione thought back to her interactions with the two families. They had barely even glanced at her, let alone made her feel welcome.
"What a swot," Potter would whisper to his Gryffindor cronies whenever she answered a question in class. They all turned over to look at her and laughed, ignoring the hurt look on her face.
"Just because this isn't your muggle world doesn't mean you can ignore the current events in my world," Ronald Weasley had once hissed at her.
It wasn't as though she didn't see the looks people–even professors–shot her.
She was smart ... for a mudblood. She was pretty enough...for a muggleborn.
They thought she didn't notice the subtle derision in their tone when she had a question. They thought she couldn't see the blatant disrespect in their eyes when they regarded her. They thought she couldn't spot the underlying disdain on their faces when they constantly treated her like she was a pesky insect at the bottom of their shoes.
People like you.
She had heard her roommates use it. She had heard her professors use it. She had even heard her Headmaster use it.
Your world.
There was always that constant divide. They wanted her to kiss their feet, praise them unconditionally for allowing her to even exist in their world. She was just as magical as the rest of them. Why should she have to bow down?
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. "They allow me into their world," She began slowly, pushing down the dull rage that had been burning inside of her for years, "As long as they can take every opportunity to prove that I'm still below them."
"It's not a privilege to study magic," Hadrian told her solemnly, "It's your right."
"I suppose that's still better than being completely eliminated, though," Hermione sighed, feeling angry tears prick at eyes. "Anything is better than that."
"That's what we're trying to tell you," Draco reached out and grabbed her hand, "You have a choice. Our goal isn't to wipe out the muggleborns. It's not about blood anymore."
"You hated me until earlier this year," She yanked her hand out of his grip. "Why should I believe you? How can you sit here and claim to be better if your side is just as prejudiced as they are?"
"We know that in the past, our side wasn't very accommodating to muggleborns. But we're working on that," Daphne said quietly. "Hadrian has already taken care of the more problematic members of our side. We've already been changing things."
"We're giving you a choice, Hermione," Hadrian said seriously. "We want you to be on our side, but we aren't going to force you."
"Right," Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's that easy. You're just going to let me go if I decide to fight with Potter and Weasley. Stop lying to me, I'm not an idiot."
"You can't seriously believe we would hurt you," Neville spoke slowly. Destiny tightened her grip on his shoulder, but he pulled away from her and stood up from the desk to frown at the curly haired witch.
Hermione crossed her arms across her chest, "Your side has killed thousands of muggles and muggleborns. Why wouldn't you hurt me?"
Neville stared down at her with an unreadable expression. "Do you honestly think we could lay a hand on you, after five years of friendship?"
Hermione fidgeted on the bed, "Well, I–"
He chuckled darkly. "Do you think we would hurt you?" Neville shook his head, taking a step closer. "Do you think we could kill you in cold blood?"
Hermione flinched.
His tall form towered over her, and his expression was menacing as he pressed further, "We've been protecting you since our first year. Are you really that afraid of us?"
Hermione stayed frozen as Neville leaned down in front of her and smirked, "Look me in the eye and tell me you think Draco would let someone else harm you. You've been pawing at each other in broom closets for over half a year now and you still refuse to call him your boyfriend, but you and I both know the lengths he would go to just to protect you."
Hermione looked over at where Draco sat beside her, but he averted his gaze too quickly for her to decipher what he was thinking. Though she didn't even have to consider it, she knew Neville was right.
"We've been friends for five fucking years," Neville hissed. "Give us a little more credit than that."
Destiny tugged at his hand and he reluctantly sat back down across the room, though his furious expression didn't falter. His voice was heavy as he said, "Grow up, Granger. I thought you were smart enough to think for yourself. You can act as you please, but don't disrespect us like that."
"I'm sorry, I–"Hermione felt her voice break, "I know you all would never hurt me. But I can't just–I can't just turn my back on who I am. You're asking me to choose between our friendship and my heritage. I don't know if I can do that. There's no good option here."
"We understand it's a difficult decision," Hadrian said quietly, shooting Neville a quelling look. "We'll stand by any choice you make."
Neville made a face, but otherwise stayed silent.
Hermione stared at her hands for a second and stood up abruptly, shaking her head, "I–I need some time to think. I need to get out of here. I just–"
"I'll walk you out," Draco quickly offered, standing up from his bed. His severe frown softened somewhat as she took the arm that he held out to her. Hermione avoided her friends' gazes, keeping her eyes glued to the floor as Draco led her out of his room and shut the door quietly behind him.
There was a moment of heavy silence as everyone watched her leave. When the sound of footsteps faded away, Blaise arched a brow at his friends and asked tentatively, "We can't–we can't just let her go, can we?"
Hadrian remained silent, choosing to stare off into space instead of answering Blaise's question. Daphne felt her boyfriend's arms tense around her, and it was the only indication he had even heard the question.
Daphne bit her lip before looking over at her friend sitting on the floor, "If she wants to join the Order, we can't stop her."
Blaise shook his head, "That's not what I meant," He grimaced before forcing out the words that left a bitter taste in his mouth, "She knows too much now."
Gryffindor Common Room [May 13th]
"This is a suicide mission," Ronald Weasley informed his best friend, for what felt like the thirteenth time that hour. "We can't just break into the Ministry because you're feeling a little insecure."
"I'm not feeling insecure," Alexander Potter snapped. "Don't you understand how we're royally screwed if I'm not the Chosen One?"
"What's the big deal?" Ron yawned, "You've been training since you were practically a tot because you were the Chosen One. So even if you're not, why does it matter? You're still a powerful wizard."
"Powerful wizard?" Alexander scoffed. He pushed aside his homework and turned to look at his friend from across the room. "I've been trained by the best tutors our world could offer and Hadrian fucking Riddle still kicked my arse in second year. Or do you not remember how we had to sneak into the hospital wing to steal some healing potions for my broken ribs? We had to serve detention for two bloody months after that because Snape caught us in the halls."
"But that was second year," The redhead pointed out. "Obviously you've grown a lot since then."
Not enough, Alexander thought to himself. He wasn't sure what had changed inside of him, but it had suddenly struck him a few weeks ago that he was woefully unprepared to fight any sort of Dark Lord. Sure, he could hold his own in a duel against most of his classmates, but the mere thought of facing Lord Voldemort made an involuntary chunk of ice settle in his stomach.
He was supposed to be a Gryffindor. He was supposed to be brave, not cower at the idea of fighting his enemies. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he was no match for the Dark Lord. If he faced him now, Alexander was sure it would be a bloodbath.
His mother had known that.
He swallowed hard as he remembered the way his mother had broken down in her cell the last time he had seen her.
"I can't bear to see you be sacrificed too," She had blurted out, "You shouldn't have to fight in this war, Alexander. I was going to take you away from this..."
At first, he had been rather hurt that his own mother thought he would be some sort of sacrificial lamb. Lily Potter didn't entertain the notion that he might be the one to win this war for a second. She had even admitted to trying to take him away from everything, instead of letting him fulfill his destiny by facing the Dark Lord. She didn't think he could do it.
Her words had sent him into a quiet rage and he soon he threw himself into his training, determined to prove her wrong. Even if Dumbledore was hiding from the Ministry and his own father was too busy leading his Aurors, he had still tried to keep up with his training– despite his mother's lack of faith in him. But every night when he would close his eyes, the image of her tear-streaked face would be imprinted in his mind. He couldn't shake the genuine fear she had felt for him.
It took him a long time, but eventually, he realized she was right.
He simply wasn't ready. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was growing more powerful by the day, but Alexander still felt like a stupid schoolboy. Not, the all-mighty Chosen One.
His lips pursed into a grim line. "If I face, You-Know-Who, I'll die," He whispered aloud.
Ron choked on the chocolate frog he had unwrapped earlier. He sputtered for a moment, "Why would you say that, mate? You're the Chosen One. If anyone can kill him, it's you."
"Ron, I don't even know if I can barely pass my O.W.L exams this term. How am I supposed to take on the most powerful wizard in our world?" Alexander sighed.
"Who cares about O.W.Ls?" Ron sneered. "What do our exams have to do with this? It's not as though you're going to face You-Know-Who and earn marks for it!"
"Don't you get it? I'm not ready to do this! I thought it was in my destiny because I was the Chosen One, but I don't even know if that's true anymore! If I'm not the Chosen One, then I'm just another idiot trying to fight the Dark Lord!" Alexander groaned, rubbing a tired hand over his face.
"But you are the Chosen One."
"No," Alexander spoke slowly. "It could just as easily have been Harry."
"And here we go again with your stupid dead twin brother," His friend rolled his eyes.
"He's not dead!" Alexander said hotly. "Stop saying Harry is dead. You know, it would be in our best interest to pray to Merlin he's still alive!"
Ron frowned, "Why? Even if he's alive, he's still a squib. How is he supposed to help?"
Alexander narrowed his eyes, "My mother said he was at Hogwarts. If he's at Hogwarts, then he's not a squib."
"Yeah mate, but your mother is mental–" Ron trailed off as he saw the dangerous look that flashed across his friend's face. He cleared his throat, "Sorry."
"She's not mental," Alexander insisted. "And if I'm not the Chosen One, then that makes Harry the Chosen One. If Harry is supposed to be the true Savior, then I hope he's still alive.
Otherwise we have no other chance of defeating You-Know-Who."
"Even if he is alive, don't you think he'd be upset about the whole... you know, being abandoned thing?"
Alexander gritted his teeth together, "That's why I need to know for sure if I'm the Chosen One. I can't live another day with this uncertainty. It's eating away at me, I can't sleep, I can't focus, I can't even breathe. I need to know."
Ron stared at him intensely for a second, deep in thought. Eventually his shoulders slumped in resignation and he sighed loudly. "Fine, don't be such a drama queen. Let's go figure out for sure who the Chosen One is." He cocked his head to the side and added, "You know that means we have to sneak around Umbridge though, right? I don't think that bint is going to let us just waltz out of the castle to go break into the Ministry."
"Just leave that to me," Alexander Potter grinned and for the first time in weeks, he felt a little bit better about his future.
***
Daphne smiled and waved when she spotted her best friend appear at the other end of the corridor.
The curly-haired witch hesitated for a second before abruptly turning around and walking off in the opposite direction.
Daphne blinked, and her smile slowly faded away.
***
Sirius Black cursed loudly as he hurried to throw open the window beside his bed. The owl that had been causing all the racket outside flew into his room, circling around a few times before it perched itself on the edge of his night table.
He frowned in confusion and carefully untied the piece of parchment that was attached to the owl. It hooted at him and Sirius shrugged apologetically.
"I don't have any treats for you, sorry, buddy," He murmured, staring at the note in his hands with wide eyes.
He had never received a response before.
***
Great Hall [June 17th]
Hadrian almost tripped over his own feet when he saw his sister sitting at the Slytherin table as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Though her presence was certainly not unwelcome, he couldn't help but think it was rather odd.
The rest of the Great Hall seemed to agree with him, if the judgmental looks and hushed whispers were of any indication.
"She seems nervous," Daphne murmured, and her hand instinctively tightened around his arm. Hadrian made a sound of polite agreement as they approached the Slytherin table.
Hadrian inclined his head slightly in greeting while Daphne sat down beside his sister. As he settled into the seat next to his girlfriend, he couldn't help but smirk at the perfectly neutral expression she wore. If it weren't for the way her leg subtly trembled against his, even he wouldn't be able to tell how worried she was about Destiny's presence at their table. He casually curled a hand around the side of her thigh, and he felt her shaking slowly come to a stop.
"What brings you here, Destiny?" Hadrian asked lightly, reaching over to grab the pitcher of pumpkin juice with his other hand.
"We have to talk," Destiny said to him with forced cheerfulness. Her voice lowered. "It's about that prophecy you were going to look for."
His shoulders stiffened imperceptibly at her words and he slowly began to pour himself some pumpkin juice. "Not here," He muttered under his breath, keeping his eyes trained on the dark orange liquid. He silently nudged the pitcher towards Daphne, but she shook her head.
"You've already drawn a lot of attention to yourself by sitting here," Daphne whispered to her friend as she waved her hand over her glass and wordlessly filled it with water. "We shouldn't discuss anything yet."
"But it's urgent," Destiny insisted. She opened her mouth to say something but abruptly closed it as she heard the sound of footsteps behind her.
"Now, this a pleasant surprise."
Destiny felt her lips curve up into a genuine smile as Neville leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. He plopped himself down beside her and automatically began putting food on his plate, seeming unbothered by her unusual appearance at their table.
"Yeah, is there any particular reason you're in my seat?" Draco complained as he made his way over to sit down across from them.
"Ignore him," Blaise rolled his eyes, reaching for the pitcher of juice before he even sat down. "He's just cranky because sitting in a different seat even once gives him horrible indigestion."
"It does not!"
"Really?" Blaise cocked his head to the side. "Then why are you complaining about a seat?"
"It's a morning routine– "
"So," Neville interrupted quickly, before his friends could start their usual morning bickering, "How come you decided to cross over into 'enemy territory'?" He took a sip of his tea and added, "Not that I'm complaining, or anything."
"We have a slight problem," Destiny rushed to say, "It turns out–"
She paused unintentionally as Neville placed a croissant on her empty plate. Her brows furrowed in confusion as he reached over to add a blueberry muffin too.
"This needs to at least look normal," Daphne explained under her breath. "It's already suspicious you're sitting with us. It's going to seem even more strange if you're so worried you can't even eat."
"This is the Slytherin table, love," Blaise chuckled darkly, "We're always being watched."
"Honestly, what does McGonagall think we're going to do?" Draco huffed. "It's not like we'd crush Weasley's windpipe during breakfast." He wrinkled his nose, "That would be crass."
"You shouldn't have come here." Hadrian barely glanced at her as he spread a thin layer of jam over his toast. "Whatever you're here to say, it can wait. There's too many people watching."
"It really can't wait," She blurted out. "Potter wants the prophecy too."
Daphne inhaled sharply, "He can barely read, why does he want a prophecy?"
"Well," Destiny tore off a piece of her croissant and let it fall back on her plate, "I'd assume for the same reason wewant it. He wants to know who the Chosen One is."
"Is he having an identity crisis or something?" Blaise raised an eyebrow, "All he has to do is look in a mirror, why does he want a prophecy?"
Neville narrowed his eyes, "Uh, did I miss something? Why do we want a prophecy?"
"Potter is having doubts about his...status," Destiny continued on as though nobody had spoken. "He wants to confirm the truth. I don't know why he wants proof now, after all this time, but–"
"It's because something has obviously made him question his life," Draco cut in. "Maybe he is having an existential crisis?"
Daphne shook her head. "No," She spoke so quietly, they all had to lean in to hear her. "He's been a little off for the past month. He definitely knows something. I think he must have spoken to his mother. If she told him what she knew...then I think he'd want to double check."
"Lily Potter," Hadrian mused aloud, "Always such a nuisance."
"What does Potter's mum have to do with anything?" Neville frowned. "I'm so lost."
"Welcome to my world," Blaise sighed, "I just wait till someone tells me exactly what's going on and whether or not it involves me."
"Not here," Daphne said breezily, "We can discuss this later."
"Actually, we can't," Destiny bit her lip. "That's what I've been trying to tell you. He's going after the prophecy tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Hadrian repeated. He involuntarily tightened his grip around his glass and his knuckles turned a deathly shade of white.
"How did he manage to come up with a way to leave the grounds and break into the Ministry before us?" Draco asked. "We were going to wait until after the term finished and then come up with a plan. Trying to get to the Ministry from Hogwarts makes everything much harder. There's no way Potter will succeed."
"But that's the thing. He will succeed, I've seen it," Destiny revealed. She dropped her gaze to her plate and stared glumly at the uneaten croissant she had accidentally shredded to pieces.
Hadrian took a bite of his toast and chewed thoughtfully, "Not if we get it first."
Daphne looked at her boyfriend and arched a perfectly sculpted brow, "You cannot be serious. Destiny said Potter was retrieving the prophecy tomorrow. There's no way we can come up with a plan by then. It's not a good idea to go rushing into this."
"We don't have a choice," Hadrian countered. "We can't let Potter get to the prophecy first."
"It's too impulsive, Hadrian," Daphne disagreed. "We don't need the prophecy," She lowered her voice so only Hadrian could hear her next words, "Your personal grudges are clouding your judgement."
Hadrian clenched his jaw and turned away from her, pushing away the barely touched breakfast on his plate. He stood up abruptly from the table and brushed off the nonexistent crumbs on his trousers. "We're getting to that prophecy before Potter," He announced quietly to his friends. He jerked his head in Draco's direction, "Are you ready to go? We'll have to strategize before class."
Draco nodded, stealing a glance at Daphne through his peripheral vision. He caught the brief flash of disapproval in her eyes–but when he blinked, any trace of discontent had been replaced by a mask of casual indifference so flawless, it could have rivalled his own mother's.
Hogsmeade [June 18th]
"Seriously?" Blaise muttered as he looked at the silver coin Hadrian held out in his outstretched palm. "A portkey? That's our plan?"
"Do you have a better idea?" Draco shrugged. "This is the best my father could do on such short notice. It's untraceable, of course."
"Remind me of the plan again," Neville frowned, taking a sip of the cold mug of butterbeer in front of him. He looked around the crowded tavern before asking nervously, "We take the portkey to the Ministry and then...what? We just retrieve a prophecy? Sounds easy enough."
"Sounds a little too easy," Daphne crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back against the booth they all had squeezed into. "This is one of the most important prophecies of our generation," She pointed out. "It's not like they would just leave it sitting on a windowsill."
"How hard could it be to find one prophecy?" Hadrian scoffed. "We already know it's in the Department of Mysteries."
"But nobody knows what else is in there," Daphne raised an eyebrow in challenge. "That's why it's called the Department of Mysteries, not the Department of General Knowledge."
"Daphne, nobody is forcing you to come with us," Hadrian fixed his intense gaze on her.
"Well, someone has to be the voice of reason here," She reminded them in a haughty tone, "We can't afford to make stupid mistakes."
"And we won't," Neville cut in. He nudged her shoulder playfully, "Have a little faith in us, Daph."
Her lips curved up into a cold smile. "Fine," She said curtly. "Have it your way."
"Back to the plan then," Blaise drummed his fingers against the table. "We get in, grab this prophecy, use the other portkey Draco's father sent us to get back to Hogsmeade, and then sneak back into Hogwarts?"
"I suppose," Destiny mumbled, "But what if we get separated?"
"Don't worry, I requested some backup," Hadrian smirked, folding his hands on the table. "If anything happens, we can side-apparate with them back here at any time."
"And by backup, I assume you mean Destiny's psycho mum," Neville frowned. "Isn't that more of a liability?"
He winced as his girlfriend kicked him lightly under the table.
"It's not just Aunt Bella," Draco reassured his friends, "My father and a handful of the elder members are coming too, just in case we have any problems."
"If we're done going over the plan again," Hadrian rolled his eyes, "We should to leave soon if we want that head start against Potter. We should stagger ourselves, so it doesn't look too suspicious that we're all leaving at once."
There was a general murmur of agreement as everyone began to gather their things.
"Does everyone have their masks?" Destiny whispered, patting her pocket for extra measure as she rose from her seat.
Neville groaned, "Destiny, you know I love you, but this really isn't the time to accessorize."
Destiny raised an eyebrow, "I meant the Death Eater masks I transfigured for us this morning. You know, to hide our identities and also keep up the charade that the Dark Lord is still alive?"
Neville blinked, "Oh."
She smirked, "You love me?"
Neville flushed and shoved his hands into his pockets. He avoided the gazes of his friends and abruptly turned around on the spot. "You know what, I'll head out first," He announced, not bothering to wait for a response.
There was a moment of bewildered silence as they all watched him march out the door. Eventually, Destiny turned back to her friends with a small smile and her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, "Did I hear that correctly? He said he loved me, right?"
Hadrian cleared his throat and rolled his neck to the side, smiling in satisfaction when he felt it crack. "I'll go next," He stated in an overtly nonchalant manner.
"Oh no you don't," Daphne grabbed his arm and shot him a look. "I'm not letting you curse your friend before we have to go steal something from under the Ministry's nose. We need all the help we can get."
"I bet we could still do it with five people," Hadrian said casually, "What's one less person?"
"No," She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll go next." She stood up from the booth and brushed off her dark trousers, giving her boyfriend one final warning glance before heading out the door.
Draco drummed his fingers on the table as one by one, he watched his friends leave the tavern and sneak into the Shrieking Shack. They had all decided that since nobody else dared to go there, it was the perfect place to activate the portkey away from prying eyes.
He had planned on being the last person to leave the tavern, because he was certain that Blaise would probably get distracted by any pretty witch that crossed his path. But before Blaise had even fully stood up from his seat, he saw a dainty hand slam onto their table, almost knocking over the half-empty mugs of butterbeer that his friends had left behind.
He flicked his gaze up to meet the dark honeyed stare of none other than Hermione 'I'm-not-your-girlfriend-Malfoy!' Granger. Her riotous curls were nearly crackling with angry magic and it was clear she was furious.
"Where do you think you're going?" She demanded to know.
"Hey Hermione," Blaise said cautiously, unsure of how to speak to the witch that had been avoiding them for nearly a month now. He offered her a hesitant smile, "Long time no see."
"I asked you a question, Zabini," She stared at him pointedly, and Blaise shrunk back at the weight of her gaze.
"Zabini, huh?" He joked. "You haven't called me that since we were in first year."
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not stupid, you know. I can see when all of you are sneaking out. Honestly, for a bunch of Slytherins, you have the subtlety of a troll."
"Granger, why do you need to know where we're going?" Draco cut in sharply, "It's none of your business anymore."
She flinched, but nevertheless, she refused to back down. Hermione placed a hand on her hip and tapped the shiny 'P' badge pinned to her robes. "I'm a prefect," She smugly informed him. "So technically, it is my business to keep track of where my fellow students are going,"
"We're going on a double date," Draco retorted. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"I always knew you two would make a cute couple," She said sweetly, not rising to the bait.
Blaise grimaced, "Oh please, I could do much better than Draco," He gestured to himself, "I'm a solid ten."
Draco stood up from his seat abruptly and glared down at the petite witch that was blocking his path. "Granger, I'm going to need you to move, or rest assured I will move you myself."
She clenched her fists at her sides and seethed, "You can't threaten me, Malfoy. I'm a prefect."
Draco jerked his head and Blaise sighed, standing up from his seat. He frowned apologetically at the witch, "I'm sorry about this."
Before she even had the chance to blink, Blaise wrapped his arms around her waist and flung her over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying her to the back corner of the packed room. He had only made it a few steps away from the table before he felt his feet suddenly frozen in place, and he almost faceplanted onto the grimy floor. He tried to lift his legs but found himself unable to move.
He felt Hermione prod her wand into his back and he reluctantly let go, allowing her to slide back down to the ground and give him a glare that made the rest of his body freeze up.
"How dare you!" She hissed at him, waving her wand in his face. "I thought–"
Draco hurried over to them, "Be quiet, you're causing a scene." He gave Blaise an exasperated look, "We're getting late, we should just go."
"Where are you going? You will tell me at once, Malfoy or–"
"Or you'll what?" Draco turned to face the angry witch with a dark glint in his eyes. He arched a brow, "You'll tell your precious Headmaster?"
She faltered, watching a dark expression appear on his chiseled features.
"Go away, Granger," He spat at her, discreetly moving his wand to silently unstick Blaise's feet from the ground. "Don't you get it? We're not friends anymore. You can't ask us where we're going. You can't ask us how our day is. You can't come crying to us when you feel upset."
He took a step closer to her and his lips twisted into a sneer, "I'm only going to say this once, so listen carefully. You didn't pick us. You chose to be self-righteous with your so-called friends, Potter and Weasley, so go be with them. You know, if they'll look past your filthy mudblood status."
Hermione gasped at his harsh words, but he didn't give her any time to respond.
"You made your choice to walk away," He reminded her bitterly. "Now stay away."
He watched emotionlessly as her bottom lip wobbled and she spun around on the spot, practically running away from them without another word.
Blaise frowned. "That was a little cruel, don't you think, Draco?"
Draco closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat, "I don't want her to get hurt. If she's not going to choose us, then she can't be involved from now on. The more she knows, the more dangerous it is for all of us."
"Isn't that a little premature?" Blaise pointed out, "We don't know anything for sure yet."
"Why drag this out?" Draco muttered. He squared his shoulders back and looked at the door, "We should get going. They're probably wondering what's taking us so long."
***
Hadrian stared down the long hall of doors and his lips curved a frown. He ran a hand through his dark hair and resisted the urge to slam his fist into a wall. "We've already been down this hallway," He growled.
"At this point, I'm not even convinced we're in the Department of Mysteries," Daphne sighed. They had been walking through long corridors that all looked the exact same, making turns at different doors, climbing up and down several flights of stairs, only to end up in the exact same place over and over again.
Destiny tried to push open a door and scowled when it wouldn't budge, no matter how many unlocking spells she threw at it.
"Is there a door we haven't tried yet?" Blaise wondered aloud. He turned around and his eyes lit up, "Destiny, can't you just check which is the right path to the Hall of Prophecies?"
She curled her lips into a sneer, "I'm a Seer, not a map."
"We've been walking for an hour," Daphne squinted another tall black door. "And I'm pretty sure the halls and doors just keep changing. We should just turn back now."
"No," Hadrian insisted, opening one of the doors closest to him. The second he pushed it open, an ear-piercing screech filled his ears and he hurried to yank the door shut again.
"Damn it, that's the bloody noise room, again," Blaise cursed. "This is the third time we've opened the same door!"
"We can't turn back now," Hadrian gritted out. "We already sent Draco and Neville to wait for backup. We can't just leave before they show up."
"We're running out of time," Destiny murmured. "In my vision, Potter and Weasley were already here by sundown."
Daphne glanced uneasily at the darkness that shone through the one window they had already passed a handful of times. "Well," She swallowed hard, "It's well past sundown. That means they're already here somewhere."
"That doesn't make sense though," Hadrian frowned. "We should've run into them if they were here, right?"
"What if–" Blaise faltered. He cleared his throat and his voice was hard as he said, "What if they already have this prophecy? Potter's dad works in the Ministry, he probably knows how to get around better than we do."
"Potter's dad is an Auror, not an Unspeakable," Hadrian shook his head. "I bet those two idiots are just as lost as we are."
He reached out to test another door, and when it didn't blow out his eardrums, he sighed in relief. His friends followed him into a room filled with strange devices and lit up by thousands of glittering lights dancing across the ceiling.
Daphne watched with awe as the lights glittered like the diamonds in her mother's jewelry box. She was so caught up in her admiration of the pretty sight that she almost crashed into a shelf beside her. Everyone else seemed to be in matching states of curiosity as they scoped out the interesting room.
Everyone, that is, except Blaise.
"This mask is suffocating me," He complained, pulling at the silver mask that covered the entirety of his face. "Can't I just take it off for a second?"
"No," Destiny said in a bored voice. "It's simple, keep your mask on, or die a miserable death in Azkaban when you get caught by a Ministry official."
"What Ministry official?" Blaise retorted. "There's nobody here."
"That is a little strange," Daphne bit her lip nervously. "This is the Department of Mysteries; you'd think they'd at least have an Auror posted for security."
Suddenly, they heard a loud crash echoing through the halls. Hadrian froze and pressed his finger to his lips, gesturing for everyone to stay quiet. There was a distinct sound of apparition and Hadrian stiffened. "It's probably just everyone arriving," He muttered uneasily as an explanation.
Before he could even take another step forward, he heard a shout from somewhere outside the room and he paused. He glanced at the door they had just come from with apprehension when another loud noise followed. "Perhaps we should go check if everything is alright," He suggested.
"Wait, Hadrian," Destiny furrowed her brows and tugged on his arm. She pointed to a small, inconspicuous-looking door towards the back of the room. "That door, I think it was the one in my vision," She spoke in a hushed tone. "The prophecy was near the door."
"Are you sure?" He whispered. "What if it's that creepy room with the stone arch again?" He hesitantly walked towards the door and wrapped his fingers around the cold handle. He was about to pull it open when he heard something explode outside, making the ground quite literally shake under his feet.
"Something is wrong," Daphne voiced what they were all thinking. She straightened her shoulders, "Maybe Potter and Weasley have arrived. I'll go see what is happening."
"We can all go," Hadrian finally conceded. "I'd rather have us all in one piece than see this prophecy."
Daphne shook her head, "We've come this far, we can't go back empty handed or this all would've been for nothing. Go get your stupid prophecy before Potter, and we can all get out of here."
"I'll go with her," Destiny piped up when she noticed Hadrian seemed rather unwilling to let her walk out alone. "We'll hold off whoever it is until you come back."
Hadrian pursed his lips, "Are you sure?"
"We'll be fine," Destiny called back as she and Daphne walked out the door, "Besides, Blaise probably needs more baby-sitting than we do."
"You people honestly have no faith in me, do you?" Blaise rolled his eyes, even though he knew nobody could see him underneath his mask.
"To be fair, the last time we were on a mission together in third year, Hermione told me you broke your ankle and she had to half-carry you back to the castle," Hadrian grinned, flinging open the door Destiny had pointed out to him.
Blaise followed behind him and shook his head, "Dear Merlin, that was one time! I can assure you–I will remain perfectly flat-footed this time."
"Don't make a promise you can't keep..." Hadrian trailed off as he saw the long lines of shelves that stretched up to the ceiling, illuminated by a soft blue light emitting from somewhere he couldn't see.
Blaise whistled softly as he saw the glowing orbs that crowded the seemingly unending row of shelves in the room. "I think this is what we were looking for."
He reached out to touch one of the bright prophecies, but Hadrian quickly slapped away his hand.
"What is wrong with you?" Hadrian hissed. "You're not supposed to touch a prophecy that doesn't belong to you. You wouldn't even be able to pick it up, and it might even drive you mad."
Blaise shivered, pulling his hand back immediately. "Well, shite. How are we supposed to find which one you want, then? I don't suppose we have time to read each one."
"Destiny said the prophecy was near the door," Hadrian remembered. "Let's split up and look for it."
His friend nodded, stalking off in the opposite direction. Hadrian turned to the rows of prophecies lined up by the door, craning his neck up to see the way the shelves rose all the way up to the incredibly high ceiling. He huffed, hoping to Merlin that his prophecy wasn't on one of the top shelves.
He walked slowly through the different shelves, staring intently at each one as he passed by. His perusal of the first row seemed to take forever, so when he moved down to a different shelf, he was significantly less optimistic.
He was about to give up when he noticed a faint blue light from the shelf closest to his head. Hadrian squinted into the darkness and hesitantly stood up on his toes, struggling to see the names printed onto the glowing orb.
Hadrian's eyes widened in triumph. "I found it!" He yelled out into the darkness, assuming Blaise would hear him.
He reached for the prophecy and smiled when his hands closed around the cold glass. Hadrian pulled it off the shelf and stared in wonder at the prophecy in his hands. Without any warning, it starting to speak:
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who will thrice defy him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives...The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."
Suddenly, there was a muffled shout and Hadrian almost dropped the glowing prophecy onto the floor right there. His eyes hardened and he turned the glass orb in his hands, debating for a moment.
He could easily take the prophecy with him, but then it could just as easily break or be stolen from him.
Or he could put it back where he had found it, knowing nobody other than his father could pull it off the shelf.
Hadrian sighed and reluctantly placed the prophecy back on the shelf. Hopefully that would keep it safe, he thought to himself.
He had just pulled out his wand when he spotted Blaise running towards him, a frantic look in his eyes. Blaise quickly shot a spell that whizzed past his ear, and Hadrian turned just in time to see the bright blue spell collide against Ronald Weasley's chest throwing him into the nearest wall. The redhead slumped over immediately, dropping his wand onto the ground and falling down with a loud thud.
"Ron?" Alexander Potter shouted, turning the corner. He froze when he caught sight of the two Death Eaters standing in front of him. His gaze darted to his friend folded over at the other end of the hall and his features contorted into an expression of rage.
"What did you do to him?" Alexander demanded. He scowled and shot a stunning spell at them, but Blaise easily deflected it to crash into the shelf beside Hadrian instead.
Alexander flinched as the shelf began to shake precariously. He frowned as he noticed a faint blue light emitting from one of the orbs on the shelf and he uncertainly reached out to grab it.
Hadrian smirked from behind his mask as Alexander Potter reached for a prophecy that wasn't his. He had been waiting for the moment his mediocre brother realized he wasn't actually the 'Chosen One', but Hadrian didn't think he would be lucky enough to actually see it happen. He'd probably have a near breakdown when he realized it,Hadrian almost smiled. If the prophecy itself didn't drive his brother mad, Hadrian was sure the resulting shock of not being able to pick up the prophecy would.
However, it seemed like the fates were undoubtedly set against him, for Hadrian did not get to see Alexander go mad. He did not get to see any mental breakdown Alexander suffered.
To Hadrian's utter shock, Alexander reached for the prophecy and successfully pulled it off the shelf in one fluid motion. The clouds began to clear within the glass orb, and the dreamy voice began to speak again:
The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who will thrice defy him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...
Hadrian lunged without thinking and physically knocked Alexander Potter to the ground, effectively stopping the prophecy from being read aloud. The prophecy rolled out of the other boy's hands, and Hadrian scrambled off the floor to pick it up.
He had just wrapped his hand around it when Alexander Potter grabbed his ankle, pulling him down to the ground. Hadrian grunted, delivering a swift kick to his brother and causing him to abruptly let go of the vice-like grip he had curled around his ankle.
Hadrian hurried to stand up and inspected the prophecy for a second, ignoring Alexander's groans of pain. He was about to shove the orb in his pocket when Alexander suddenly leveled his wand at him.
"Accio prophecy," Alexander whispered, wiping away the blood that flowed heavily from his broken nose.
Hadrian hissed as the prophecy flew out of his hands and into Alexander's waiting ones. He was about to summon it back when he heard it. The subtle rattling noise.
Hesitantly, Hadrian glanced up and his eyes widened as the shelves began to shake as hundreds of prophecies began to fly down towards them at a dizzying speed. Hadrian ducked out of the way as the first few came crashing down on them, but soon thousands of glass orbs began to fall from their positions.
Hadrian's heart sank as he saw his prophecy shatter as the rest of the prophecies rained down on them. He didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as another prophecy shattered against the crown of his head with an alarming amount of force.
He staggered back, clutching a hand to his head in pain. He could barely lift his wand arm to cast a shield charm, when all of a sudden, the onslaught of glass stopped.
Hadrian cautiously looked up to see the balls were frozen in midair and hovering above him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as Potter was currently passed out on the ground and Weasley had been knocked out a while ago. Even Blaise had bit struck down earlier and looked barely conscious.
Hadrian quickly scanned the room and his heart nearly stopped as he saw another figure in the shadows, waving their wand and skillfully sending the prophecies back to their rightful places.
Hadrian narrowed his eyes suspiciously as the person stepped into the light and finally came into view. His fear melted away as soon as he saw the familiar rugged beard and Hadrian broke out into an overjoyed smile, "Sirius!"
The black-haired man grinned back at him as he approached, "I know, I know, what would you ever do without me?"
"How did you find us?" Hadrian asked, carefully stepping away from the piles of broken glass at his feet.
"I–" Sirius paused, pointing down at the unconscious form of Alexander Potter. "Is that..." He trailed off.
Hadrian nodded stiffly.
Sirius frowned, "You know, for some reason I thought he'd be taller by now."
Hadrian snickered, "I got the good genes, I suppose."
"Is he dead?" Sirius asked casually, gently prodding Alexander's back with his dirt-crusted boot.
Hadrian watched Potter's chest rise and fall with slow, but steady breaths. "No," He said, irritation clouding his features, "He's just passed out."
He walked over to where Blaise had collapsed and grabbed his arm, trying to haul him off the ground.
"I–I can walk," Blaise whispered hoarsely, shooting him an annoyed look even though one of his eyes had swollen shut.
"Obviously you can't," Hadrian rolled his eyes. "Sirius, come help me."
His godfather walked over to him and roughly grabbed Blaise's shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.
"Sorry," Sirius apologized sheepishly, "I didn't know your entire body was broken."
"It's not," Blaise insisted in a haughty tone, even as Hadrian and Sirius had to support his weight between the two of them to get him off the ground. "It's just lightly damaged–FUCK!"
His words cut off into a loud yelp as Sirius waved his wand at his leg and muttered, "Episkey."
Blaise gingerly ran his scraped fingers down his half-healed leg and glared at the older man. "You could've given me some warning," He hissed.
"It's better if you don't know it's coming," Sirius smirked, "Besides, there's no way we would be able to get out of here if the two of us also had to carry you along."
"So much for remaining flat–footed, huh?" Hadrian laughed. He winced almost immediately, pressing a hand against the back of his head again as even laughing caused his head to sting sharply. He pulled his hand away from his head after the sensation had faded and his jaw clenched at the sticky layer of blood that coated his fingers, and presumably the back of his head.
"Uh," He whispered. "I think I might need to get this checked out."
Sirius stiffened, "Well, rub some dirt on it, Harry, we have to focus on getting out of here first." He began walking away from them towards the door and Hadrian hurried to catch up to him.
"You called me Harry!" He whispered fiercely, "Why would you do that? In front of Potter? In front of Blaise?"
"Sorry, it was a force of habit," Sirius shrugged. "Quite frankly, kid, we have bigger things to worry about."
"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, trailing behind them. He had been confused by the odd nickname Sirius had given his friend, but the excruciating throbbing of his leg already took up most of his concentration.
"Well, I think your friends were fighting off some Aurors the last time I saw them, but I made sure Rodolphus grabbed them and apparated out of there," Sirius revealed in a low voice. "The blonde seemed pretty beat up."
"Half my friends are blonds," Hadrian sputtered, "Which one is hurt?"
Sirius grimaced, "Everyone's in a mask, I couldn't see anyone properly. All of them looked pretty rough though."
"Why are the Aurors even here?" Blaise questioned, "I don't think Potter and Weasley called them."
"Who knows," Sirius said tightly, opening another door. He paused for a second and turned to Hadrian, "You know, I saw you pick up the prophecy–before it shattered and all. "
Hadrian felt a cold feeling run up the length of his spine and he shivered. "Yes," He said softly, "I was able to pick it up."
Sirius grinned and clapped him on the back, ignoring Hadrian's grunt of pain. "You know what this means, right?"
"That I'm the 'Chosen One'?" Hadrian remarked wryly. "I don't know about that."
"Of course, that's what it means!" Sirius exclaimed. He strode through the door and groaned when he didn't see the hallway he intended, "Damn it, how the hell do you get out of this place?"
He walked across the square-shaped room, narrowly avoiding the stone archway in the center of the room. "I always had a feeling it was you," Sirius admitted. "I knew it the moment I saw you."
"You did?" Hadrian asked carefully. He watched Sirius with a calculating gaze. Something felt off.
He walked down the steps to follow his godfather, though he was momentarily distracted by the sound of whispers coming from the stone archway that stood on a dais slightly raised above the ground. As he got closer, he noticed black wisps weaving through the archway, filling his ears with a soft buzzing sensation. He shivered involuntarily and stepped away, focusing his attention again on Sirius.
"Let's get out of here," Hadrian called out, "I don't have a good feeling about this place."
"In a minute," Sirius murmured, "I'm just trying to find the right door."
Blaise stared down at them from where he still stood at the top of the stairs that led down to the platform at the center. He crossed his arms across his chest, "Why are we even trying to find a door? The Aurors already know we're here, so there's no point in trying to be stealthy anymore. Why can't we just apparate out? We have nothing else to lose."
"We will, I just need to find something–"
"Sirius," Hadrian called out quietly when it finally struck him, "You didn't come here to save us, did you?"
"What are you talking about?" Sirius turned around to face him, furrowing his brows in confusion. "I just saved your life."
Hadrian's eyes hardened, "But that's not why you came here, is it?" He raised an eyebrow, "How did you even know where we were?"
Sirius forced a laugh, "Why does it matter, kid? I'm here for you, that's all that matters, right?"
"You came here because you thought I had somehow convinced my father to retrieve the prophecy himself," Hadrian stated coldly, taking a step closer to his godfather. "You weren't expecting to see me. You were expecting my father. That's why you called the Aurors. So that you could 'ambush the Dark Lord'."
He saw Sirius clench his fists at his side, and Hadrian closed his eyes for a brief moment as he realized with a sinking feeling that he was right on both counts. "Why would you do that?" Hadrian whispered, staring at the man he had grown close to over the past few years. "I trusted you."
"Look, I'm sorry I lied, kid," Sirius gritted his teeth, "But now–now that you're the Chosen One, you have to see why I had to do this. You're destined to defeat your father. All I wanted was to show you that you've been fighting on the wrong side this whole time."
"But you didn't know I was the Chosen One," Hadrian pointed out. "That means you were just trying to defeat my father and escape to the Order," His voice faltered as he added, "You didn't even think of me."
"Please Hadrian, you have got to see the bigger picture here," Sirius pleaded. "So, what if I called the Aurors? You're the Chosen One, your destiny is to defeat your father. This would've just made it easier for you."
"Easier for me?" Hadrian repeated incredulously. "You didn't care about me! You swore you would be loyal to us, but you broke your promise. You came here to get yourself a one-way ticket back to the Order, even if it meant using me to do it!"
"I can't do this, Harry!" Sirius shouted at him. "I have tried so hard to be a part of this horrible mockery of a life you've created for yourself, but I can't do it anymore. I can't just sit here and let you descend onto this dark path."
"My name is Hadrian Riddle," Hadrian sneered. "Not Harry."
"No, it's not!" His godfather snapped. "It will always be Harry because you belong on the Light side, not traipsing around with a bunch of good for nothing Death Eaters! They've turned you into some kind of blood-thirsty psychopath! This is not who you are!"
"You don't know who I am," Hadrian said darkly. "You don't know anything."
"All I know is now we can defeat your father, together. I can help you, Harry. We can finally prove ourselves to the wizarding world," Sirius promised.
"Well, isn't that so tempting," A voice called out from the top of the stairs.
Blaise nearly tripped over the stairs in shock as the curly-haired madwoman appeared out of what seemed like thin air beside him. He ignored the glare she directed in his direction and held up his hands in surrender, "Don't look at me. I know I usually say I don't know what's going on, but this time I really fucking mean it."
"Bellatrix," Sirius acknowledged flatly. "How nice of you to join us."
"I'm curious, cousin," She smiled crookedly at him, revealing a row of sharp white teeth, "Does your offer to hold hands and save the world together apply to me as well? Do I also get in on salvation? Is it a two-for-one deal?"
"Shut up, Bella. This doesn't concern you," Sirius growled.
Bellatrix narrowed her eyes, "That's where you're wrong. Not only have you betrayed Hadrian, you've betrayed me, your own family. Your own blood."
Sirius laughed, a low, dark sound that didn't sound at all like his usual raucous laughter. "Don't talk to me about blood, Bella. I stopped considering you as my family the moment we left Hogwarts."
"I let you into my home," Bellatrix hissed. "I broke you out of that wretched prison when all your so-called heroic friends left you to rot. I protected you and this is how you chose to repay me?"
"I would have broken out eventually," Sirius countered. "Or my friends would have–"
"You. Don't. Have. Friends," Hadrian finally spoke, fixing his godfather with a glare so intense, the man almost stepped back. "Not anymore. They all abandoned you, remember? All you had was us. And it still wasn't enough."
"I think we should just kill him," Bellatrix studied her sharp nails with disinterest, "I honestly can't say I'm surprised it has come to this."
"I thought you finally accepted us," Hadrian sighed, "I thought you had accepted me. I had already lost everyone from my life before, but I thought you were the one person who stood by me," He sat down on one of the stone benches and murmured, "But you've been plotting my demise from the moment you met me."
Sirius shook his head, "No, I truly did care for you. Don't you see? That's why I'm doing all this. You're on the wrong side, kid. I've been trying to save you."
"I don't need to be rescued," Hadrian crossed his arms across his chest. "This is who I am. This is what I have always been."
"The Dark Lord doesn't have a permanent hold on you, Harry!" Sirius yelled at him in frustration, "We can get rid of him, together. He trusts you completely, he wouldn't even suspect if you turned against him. We can finally free you," He turned to shoot Bellatrix an angry look, "You don't have to be held captive by them anymore. You don't have to follow his orders. You're the Chosen One. You could be the one to finally defeat him and bring light back into our world."
Hadrian froze suddenly and a cold smirk appeared on his handsome features, "There's just one thing, Sirius. The Dark Lord has been dead since last year."
Sirius blinked. He could feel a dull throbbing at the back of his head and for some reason the nape of his neck became unbearably warm. He took a step back in shock. "That's impossible," He finally spit out. "We've been going on raids for an entire year. You've been working harder than ever to fulfill your father's plans. Why would you continue like this if he were dead?"
Hadrian stood up from the stone bench and clasped his hands behind his back, "Do you remember about two years ago when you asked me if I condoned my father's brutality? I told you that you would know exactly when it was my turn to play the game," His lips curved up into a soft grin, "Turns out, I was wrong. You're still blissfully in the dark."
"But the Dark Lord...his threats...his new campaigning–"
Bellatrix cleared her throat impatiently, and a positively wicked smile formed on her face. "Cousin let me introduce you to our new Dark Lord, Hadrian Riddle," She peered down at him with a frown, "I don't know why you're acting so surprised. He was the heir of the Dark Lord, after all. Did you think it was just a nickname?"
Sirius felt the blood drain from his face as he stared at the young man he had grown to see like a son. "It-It can't be. You would never do this by choice–you're not–you would never betray me like this!"
"That's what I thought about you," Hadrian laughed humorlessly. "I suppose we were all in for a surprise tonight."
"You–But–"
"For the love of Merlin, can we just kill him already?" Bellatrix cut off his unintelligible murmurs. "I'm getting bored. Do you want to do the honors, or shall I do it?"
"No," Hadrian stared at the man he had almost started to see as a father in his life. "Let me."
"You wouldn't kill me," Sirius suddenly looked up at him, "You don't have it in you to kill someone."
"What makes you say that?" Hadrian smiled benevolently, humoring the older man.
"No matter how hurt you are, I know you're a good person inside, Harry. You wouldn't just kill me in cold blood."
Hadrian tilted his head to the side, as though he were deep in thought. He nodded slowly, "You're right, I wouldn't kill you in cold blood."
He caught the brief flash of relief that flickered across his godfather's face and his lips pursed into a hard line. "But you know what, betrayal just doesn't sit right with me. I wouldn't kill a man in cold blood, but after your treachery and traitorous behavior–well, my blood is boiling now, Sirius."
"Do you want to know how much you've displeased me?" Hadrian asked blandly. His hand reached out in front of him and he clenched his fingers into a fist, using his magic to force the man down to his knees. "I'm so angry, I don't even think I need a wand to kill you."
Sirius gasped, feeling his chest begin to constrict as Hadrian barely lifted a finger to squeeze the air out of his lungs. With another whispered incantation, Sirius could feel every single nerve in his body alight with fire and he roared in anguish.
"Stop–I–I didn't mean to hurt you, Hadrian. Please," He begged, gasping for air. He fell backwards onto the ground and the sound of low whispers filled his ears.
"You underestimated what I'm capable of, Sirius. I just want to show you what you were too blind to see," Hadrian taunted him. He uttered another spell and watched with a sadistic glint in his eyes as his godfather convulsed on the ground.
Sirius gathered up his remaining strength and tried to prop himself up with his arms. He felt his chest tighten with unadulterated fear as he realized Hadrian was enjoying this.
"Not that I'm not appreciating this show," Bellatrix interrupted, "But we have to get out of here. I don't fancy another stint in Azkaban. Do you think you can finish having your fun and we can leave?"
"Fine," Hadrian shrugged. He crouched down till he could look Sirius in the eyes and sneered, "Just remember that I'm showing you mercy because I happen to be on a tight schedule, not because you deserve it."
"I-If you tried to be good with even half the determination you have to prove you're bad," Sirius choked out, spitting out a mouthful of blood and trying to ignore the tears that he couldn't stop from rolling down his cheeks. "You could have been something great."
"I will be something great," Hadrian promised. With a flick of his wrist, he blasted Sirius across the floor. The great stone archway flickered for a moment as the transparent wisps of darkness latched onto his limp body, easily pulling him into the vortex and erasing his entire existence without a sound.
Hadrian smiled sadly as he stared at the spot his godfather had been a moment before, "It's a shame you'll never get the chance to find out."