Hadrian woke early, taking his time getting ready for the morning. He paid more attention to his appearance then he usually did, ensuring that his hair was tussled back neatly, and that his uniform was pressed and everything was in its correct place.
He was not particularly anxious about the upcoming meeting, but with the first task looming he was beginning to feel a bit of pressure. So far their research into manticores was going horribly, hitting wall after wall with information - simply because there was not any to be found.
The dismal amount of documentation about manticores was doing nothing to encourage him. So far, the most helpful slip of information he had gotten was dangerous, do not approach.
Yeah, thanks for the advice you dead bastards.
With a sigh he smoothed his hand down his tie, fingers absently playing with the end of it as he stared at his reflection.
"You look absolutely dashing." The mirror said, eyes roaming appreciatively up and down his form.
"Shut up." He ordered shortly.
In less than an hour, Minister Lécuyer would be arriving to take him to the meeting point, where he would greet a number of important council members - including, he was sure, Éric Korin.
The thought of seeing Jacob's father soured his relatively calm mood. He had no idea if Jacob had already written to the man in regards to the swift end of their friendship, and he had no desire to find out the man's reaction if that were the case.
He knew that Éric had disapproved of how much influence he had had over Jacob - considering recent events, Hadrian almost wished he had had more control over the Korin heir - and he was sure that on some level the man would be relieved that the two were no longer interacting.
On the other hand, he also knew how much Éric cared for Jacob and his wellbeing. Ever since his beloved wife had passed away three years ago, Éric had been far more attentive towards his son than the years previous. The last thing he needed right now was someone of Éric's status coming after him for hurting Jacob's feelings.
Thinking of Jacob merely added an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He was angry at the other, beyond anything he had ever experienced before; still ripped and raw from the betrayal. But a part of him missed the other boy greatly. He missed his company and the sense of security he had taken for granted.
Hadrian sometimes caught himself looking for Jacob, to murmur a joke or express an idea, only to be forcibly reminded that Jacob was not with him anymore.
His friends - Raina and Claire, and now, Albert - were good, and he enjoyed spending time with them, but it was never quite the same.
He had trusted Jacob. He had allowed the boy to see a bit more of him than he typically showed. He had given him small hints, offered him pieces of himself. And in turn, the other had broken that tentative bond Hadrian had formed.
It had hurt. A lot. So much so that he could barely handle looking at the other boy anymore.
His mother had always cautioned him against letting people get too close to him, and he had seen the logic behind her warnings. With their lives, they had only each other to lean and rely on.
Hadrian was still young though, and had been unable to refrain from reaching out to his classmates. He had not even realised how far he had fallen into his own webs, how much he had invested in his relationship with Jacob, until he had seen his name written in that horribly familiar scrawl.
He closed his eyes, slumping forward until his forehead rested against the glass surface of the mirror.
By now, the news that he would be fighting a manticore had spread to all of his school mates. He had seen Jacob's reaction to hearing what the first task was. He had seen the horror and guilt in his eyes, when he realised just what he had condemned Hadrian too.
A small section of him was viciously glad that Jacob finally got it, that he finally understood the danger he had so stupidly thrown him into. He wanted to laugh at how pitiful the other had looked afterwards, but nothing about his impending task was funny.
He wanted to forgive Jacob. He wanted to just let go and accept the other back. Gods knew he needed the support now more than ever. He just - he could not. Not right now. It was still too soon for him to even seriously contemplate offering anything more than strained acknowledgement.
"You will get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that." The mirror tsked at him. Hadrian slid his eyes open and gazed at it balefully. His reflection shrugged at him, "I'm just saying. You're too young to have wrinkles just yet, handsome."
"One day," Hadrian promised, "I am going to shatter you, and get a normal, non-talking mirror. A mirror that just does what it's meant to instead of mouthing off. Wouldn't that be nice?"
His reflection snorted, as if the mere thought of it being replaced was so laughable. "Please, sweetheart. Then who would be here to offer you advice for all your life problems?"
"In the weeks that I have had you, not once have you given me anything other than compliments on my appearance."
"To be fair, you are rather ravishing. Can't blame me for noticing." It leered at him in a way that would have been flattering if it was not his own face doing it. "And I help boost your ego in a healthy, friendly way."
Hadrian rolled his eyes at the grin it gave him. "Anyway, maybe if you did more than insult me and tell me to shut up, I would be able to give you better advice. Instead, all you do is scowl and mope around."
"I somehow doubt that an enchanted piece of glass is a fount of wisdom." He reached out and threw his blazer on, doing up one button and brushing it down to get rid of any crinkles that might have appeared.
"You'd be surprised," it said amusedly. "who are you dressing up for anyway, you don't typically spend so much time in here. Is there a new interest in your life?" Its eyes brightened. "Oh I bet there is! So, tell me, is it a girl?"
Hadrian ignored its rambling. "You are the bane of my existence."
It hummed thoughtfully. "Boy?" He cut a sharp look at it. "Definitely a boy then." Hadrian now knew why people hated whenever he was smug, if his expression was anything like what his refection looked like. He had never thought he would have the urge to punch himself.
"I think after the last one, I can wait a while before getting tangled up in something again." Hadrian headed towards the door. He had never understood the appeal of enchanted mirrors, they were just unnecessary - and so annoying. Before he exited, he called back over his shoulder. "By the way, it's the Minister I'm 'dressing up for'."
He made his way out of his room and down the hallway, entering the lounge room and taking a seat near one of the windows. Hadrian leaned his elbow on the sill and perched his cheek on his fist, gazing out at the slowly lightening grounds of Hogwarts as his thoughts swirled.
He felt strangely detached right now. Adrift.
The closer the first task drew, the worse the feeling got. His classmates were putting ever spare moment into assisting him; all of them now looked at him with barely concealed worry, as it became more and more apparent that defeating a manticore was virtually impossible.
The sense of inevitability had caused two totally different attitudes to emerge. There were those whom were treating him as if he had already lost, voicing sympathy and false confidence, as if he were a child in need of comfort. He hated that, but he could understand their lack of hope at his situation.
Then there were those who dove into researching with him as if it were their lives on the line. Raina, Claire, Albert, and a handful of others. They steadfastly refused to accept the possibility that he would die. They snapped at anyone who hinted otherwise, and pulled him back from any spiralling negative thoughts.
It warmed his chest to know that they truly believed that he would not only live through his upcoming battle, but excel.
The only person who had ever shown that level of confidence in him was his mother.
He frowned lightly as he thought of the woman.
Hadrian had no idea how he felt about his mother coming to Britain. He does not know why, but the thought of her being here to watch and support him had never really crossed his mind before the meeting with the Minister.
He supposed he was happy that he would get to see her again before he competed; that he would get the chance to hug her and feel the familiar weight of her fingers carding through his hair. He could tell her that he loved her, and that she was the most important thing in his life, just in case.
She had always been there for him, pushing him and encouraging his growth; he would have been devastated if he died without having at least one last moment with her.
On the other hand, the thought of his mother here, surrounded by their enemies, made his stomach clench in fear. He knew she would be under the rune's protection, but so many things could go wrong. She would never do anything to endanger them, but this was far too risky for his liking.
If he lost his cool around Lucius Malfoy in their first meeting, without even having a history with the man, he did not want to see his mother have to interact with people she not only knew, but had fought against. It would be too draining on her, to have to be around the people that had ruined their lives and not give something away.
He trusted her to not say or do anything incriminating, but all it would take is one unguarded moment, one flicker of hatred, and everything could unravel.
Hadrian sighed, eyes drooping tiredly.
"Pleasant dreams, Mr. Evans."
He scowled fiercely at the insidious whisper, focussing on the anger that suddenly bubbled to life in his chest; if only to avoid having to address his almost crippling embarrassment. Just the memory of that night had him grinding his teeth together.
He was such an idiot.
"I prefer Hadrian, sir."
And the way Riddle had smiled at him.
"Pleasant dreams, Hadrian."
The way his name had slipped from the man's lips, so quiet and amused made him groan in exasperation.
He had behaved so childishly, seeking out Riddle in the middle of the night. He never should have allowed himself to get into such a state that a midnight visit to one of the most sly individuals he had ever encountered seemed like a fantastic idea. He would have been fine if he had simply spoken with Riddle, then left.
But no. He had stayed, he had actually accepted a drink from him and talked with him with a familiarity he should not have. They had been engaged, debating and arguing and baiting each other like it was a game. And to make things worse, he had slept in the man's room, without a single protest.
"Trying to get me into bed, sir?"
He deserved to be clubbed over the head for that remark in particular.
Waking up had been disorientating at first, having no recollection of where he was. Then the memories had slammed into him, and the mortification had risen like a tsunami. He had spent a good three minutes just burying his face into a pillow and mentally berating himself.
It was honestly a relief that Riddle had been nowhere to see when he had crept out of the office. Hadrian did not think he could have handled that. But it did leave him curious as to why the professor had just left him there, not only for the morning, but until almost lunch time.
The man would had to have come and gone from his office at least once during that time, and yet he had not attempted to wake him. It made him uneasy, not knowing the motive behind Riddle's actions.
One thing was for certain, he could not afford to let anything like that happen again. And he certainly had no intention of ever letting his mother find out about it.
She would be horrified to discover that not only had he let his guard down, but that he had done so in the presence of someone like Riddle - someone who clearly was not one to trust.
The problem was, on some level, Hadrian did trust Riddle. It was completely ridiculous, and no doubt a terrible idea, but there was something about the professor that just made him so easy to talk to. And it was not his charm - the method he used to entrap his other students - it was something Hadrian had never experienced before.
It was just a sense of understanding. Hadrian looked at Riddle and saw some who got it.
The feeling was as liberating as it was dangerous. Because Riddle was not an ally, and he had to remember that.
He was distracted as the front door swung open, and was on his feet the moment he spotted Lécuyer's intricately pinned hair.
Lécuyer smiled when she saw him, and embraced him warmly. "Hadrian, I am glad you are ready." Her sparkling eyes dragged up and down him, a small smirk pulling at the side of her mouth. "And not a hair out of place, an improvement I must say." Like before, there was no hint of rebuke in her words or expression, more gentle teasing then anything.
Hadrian returned her grin, immensely pleased to see his marvellous Minister. There was a reason she was unopposed.
"I assure you Minister, if it were not for my mother's presence, I would not look this good." She chuckled at him, delighted.
"Yes, I can understand that reasoning completely." She winked at him, hand curling around his shoulders to pull him towards the door. "Now, we must hurry. I have permission to kidnap you for only a handful of time before you are expected to be back here."
Together, they left the carriage and made their way out onto the dew-covered grass. The air was chilly, and even though his hands were freezing, Hadrian offered his arm to the Minister out of courteousness. Again, she smiled at him as she placed her hand on his outstretched arm.
"Minister Malfoy has given us special permission to use one of the apparation points to go to the designated meeting point."
"I thought it was impossible to apparate in and out of Hogwarts. The wards..."
Lécuyer tapped her nose conspiratorially. "It was put in after the change of power, as a means of allowing certain individuals a quick means of access. One must have someone keyed into the wards to use them though, to avoid just anyone coming through." She led him up into the castle and down various hallways until they entered a room.
Inside, Lucius Malfoy stood waiting.
Hadrian straightened when the man glanced at him, meeting his gaze head on.
Surprisingly though, the British Minister only scrutinised him for a few moments before turning to speak to Lécuyer quietly. Hadrian let his eyes wander over the room, taking in the runes etched into the stone walls and floor with intrigue. The marks were all glowing faintly, and that alone alerted Hadrian to the fact that whatever the runes did to the wards of Hogwarts required quite a lot of magic.
"Mr. Evans, please come here."
Hadrian looked up to see Lécuyer already standing patiently within the circle on the floor. He moved to stand next to her as Malfoy gestured.
"You might feel a brief pinch, but I assure you it is entirely natural. When you are ready to return Minister Lécuyer, please return to the corresponding location and we shall send you through."
Hadrian watched closely as Malfoy began the spell, taking in as much of the proceedings as he could, before he was gone with a loud crack.
Hadrian stumbled as he landed, shuddering at the horrible sensation that washed through him. 'Pinch. Right.'
Lécuyer seemed to have fared better than him, and was already moving towards the door. Hadrian trailed after her silently, surprised to note where they were.
This was his first time inside the British Ministry of Magic, and everywhere he looked there was something attention-snagging. He particularly was interested in the impressive floo network, fireplaces lining the walls and occasionally flaring as workers came and went. Even this early, the entrance hall was somewhat crowded.
Hadrian followed closely behind his Minister, glad that so far, they had avoided unnecessary attention. It appeared that in the morning, these witches and wizards had more important things on their minds than observing the two foreigners cut their way towards a side hallway.
"Where are we going, Minister?"
She glanced at him over her shoulder, "We are heading to the International Gates, Monsieur Evans. It is a point of access for foreigners wishing to enter from another country. This is where we will be greeting the party."
Content with the answer, Hadrian simply nodded. He cast his gaze around the hallways, mentally comparing it to the Ministry back home.
The French Ministry was beautiful white marble, gold and silver trimming, large open windows, crystal statues and light everywhere.
Here it was...oppressively dark. The walls, the floors, the pillars - all were made of what appeared to be black marble, veins of poisonous green streaking through everything. It added an air of severity, but also a strange sense of beauty. It reminded Hadrian of a panther in that way, reeking of danger yet being mesmerising in its deadliness.
His lips twitched upwards as he thought of the large cat breed, privately amused.
Lécuyer eventually came to a stop, Hadrian right behind her. There were two men stationed in front of the door they would be going through. "Minister Lécuyer." One of them, a reasonably attractive man with cut grey hair and sharp eyes, stepped forward with an affable grin on his lips. He took the Minister's offered hand and bowed politely, face never once wavering from its genial expression.
"An honour to meet you face-to-face." He pressed a simple, chaste kiss to the back of her hand before he straightened. He was quite tall, and his black robes emphasised his strong figure. Hadrian fixed a bland smile on his face when the man turned to him and offered his hand.
He hesitated for but a breath, before slipping his hand into the wizard's and firmly shaking it. "And your champion - I've heard nothing but praise about you Mr. Evans." There was a barely noticeable change in tone when the man said his last name. It was slight, and Hadrian did not know if anyone else caught it, but he had been dealing with this subtle prejudice all his life, and could immediately identify a blood elitist when he saw one.
They were all the same, after all.
His grin grew even as his eyes burned. "Undoubtedly." He murmured, watching in cautious amusement as something ugly flickered through those steely eyes. This reminded him intimately of his first encounter with Lucius Malfoy.
"Unspeakable Rookwood," Lécuyer smoothly interrupted, stepping up next to Hadrian in a move that was equal parts protective and threatening. Hadrian briefly marvelled at the gall of his Minister, feeling his respect for her rise. He was not particularly bothered at having her step in to defend him, nor did his pride prickle at her actions.
He had always appreciated strong women. His mother. Madame Maxime. Claire and Raina. Lécuyer. All women he held in high regard, due to their ferocity and strength of will. If anything, seeing her so effortlessly stare down someone as renown as Augustus Rookwood was delightful.
"I believe we have an appointment to make."
Rookwood dipped his head in obedience that was - surprisingly - not condescending in the least. Hadrian studied the Death Eater with interest. He would have expected a hint of annoyance from the man, but all he could detect was cool acceptance. Maybe even a spark of mild mirth.
How odd.
"Of course, forgive me, Minister. Come, everything has been prepared for your party's arrival." Rookwood spun on his heel and opened the large doors, his polished shoes clicking loudly on the floor. Lécuyer and Hadrian moved after him, leaving the second, unnamed wizard to bring up the rear.
Hadrian ignored the feeling of eyes boring into the back of his head. The urge to turn and look at the wizard behind him was almost overwhelming, especially when coupled with the fear of discovery.
He had no idea how many people here had known his father. James Potter was quite the auror when he was alive, and his heavy involvement against Voldemort had often brought him into conflict with the Dark Lord's forces. It was entirely likely that more than one of them would feel a fleeting sense of familiarity when seeing him.
One good thing would come from his mother's arrival at least. When she was under her glamours, there would be no doubt in anyone's mind which parent he resembled more.
After today, any lingering suspicions should dissipate.
The room they entered was more a chamber than anything, and the only thing inside was a fireplace. Though unlike the simple fireplaces in the entrance hall, this one was far grander.
He tilted his head back to stare at the ginormous structure, a little in awe despite himself. He could almost feel the hum of magic in the air, it was so potent.
"Your party is scheduled to appear in two minutes, Minister Lécuyer." Rookwood stated, pivoting until he was facing them again. The same, patient smile still on his face. "Unfortunately, for security reasons, my colleague and I must remain until all registered travellers are accounted for and the floo closed. I'm sure you understand."
From the borderline bored look in his eyes, Rookwood clearly did not care either way what their opinion on the matter was.
Hadrian stood quietly to the side, staring blankly at the fireplace as anticipation clenched his gut. In just a few minutes he would finally be able to see his mother again. The thought brought a small smile to his lips.
Hadrian took a moment to glance around the virtually empty chamber, his eyes eventually falling on the second escort. He was thin and bald, with a heavy scar running down the side of his face that was casting an ominous look on his face. He held himself rigidly, beady eyes fixed on Rookwood with unnerving intensity.
With curiosity, he carefully prodded the man with his magic, wanting to know what the dark glint in his eyes meant. Instantly, he was hit with an unhealthy dose of loathing, mingled with biting jealousy and longing. Hadrian bit back a smirk.
Whoever this man was, clearly he had some form of grudge against Rookwood. If he had to guess, he would say the jealousy had something to do with the fact that Rookwood was amongst the top of Voldemort's forces. Hadrian was not well-versed on many Death Eaters, but the top tier had been something he studied and reviewed constantly as a child.
He had to understand just who he needed to go after eventually.
Rookwood was important. And this man...not so much. It appeared even Death Eaters were human than.
A bell rang once, the sound filling the room and drawing their attention. Rookwood removed his wand and tapped the fireplace, to which the inside of it flashed once in acknowledgement. Hadrian moved to stand just behind his Minister.
The fire in the hearth burst to life, and five figures quickly moved forward. Hadrian immediately recognised the Undersecretary, and behind him -
"Fleur?" He blinked in surprise, cutting off the greeting between Lécuyer and the other officials. The gorgeous witch smiled at him, moving forward to plant a firm kiss on both of his cheeks. Her face glowed with happiness and pride. "'adrian!"
Her clear, musical voice broke his stupor, and with a grin he kissed her cheeks back before tugging her into a firm hug. Fleur was taller than him, but not by much, so she perched her pointed chin on his shoulder and laughed softly in his ear.
"I have missed you." She whispered, and Hadrian closed his eyes, enjoying the way their language fell from her lips.
"I missed you as well." They separated, and Fleur scanned him critically. She tutted in disappointment.
"Have you been eating enough?" He chuckled and rolled his eyes playfully.
"I promise that I have. Honestly, you need a new hobby, one that preferably doesn't involve mothering me needlessly." He teased lightly, and Fleur's eyes positively sparkled.
"When I can trust you to take care of yourself adequately, then I will leave you alone. I do not even want to consider how negligent you have gotten without me there to keep you on track."
Hadrian snorted, crossing his arms and fighting a grin. "'Keep me on track'? Really, is that what you are calling it these days? All I recall is you following me around demanding I fight you, because I offended your 'honour'." He rocked back on his heels, smug. "Remind me again how well that worked out for you?"
She brushed some of her fringe out of her eyes, before her fingers fell down to trace the very fine chain that hung around her neck. Her lips curled upwards in a simple, fond smile. "Rather well, actually."
Hadrian felt warmth spread through him when he realised she was wearing his graduation gift to her. It had been a spur of the moment purchase, something he had seen in one of the market stalls near his home during the holidays. He and Fleur had just moved passed the most antagonistic stage of their relationship, and he had wanted to get the part-veela something to show how much he had come to respect her before she took off into the wider world.
To know that she still wore the little trinket would have made him blush if he were anyone else. Then again, when he had presented it to her years ago, Fleur had basically preened.
" Monsieur Evans." The call drew his attention away from his friend, and with a jolt he realised that not only had more arrived, but many were watching them with expectant faces. Lécuyer raised an eyebrow at him and nodded her head in the direction of the fireplace. "I believe there is someone who would like to see you."
Hadrian took a sharp breath, spinning to see who the Minister was talking about. He spotted his mother, locking onto her disguised form with ease. He was moving to her before he could think. He ignored the countless eyes on him, wrapping his arms around his mother's petite frame and almost crushing her to his chest.
Seeing her brought a feeling of absolute contentment to him. It had only been a handful of weeks - not even the longest he had spent away from her - but the events and stress had made everything too much for him. Holding the only person in his life he knew he could rely on without hesitation was cathartic.
Lily's hands wrapped around him with equal force, and she breathed his name so softly he could barely hear it. There was so much relief in that one word, as if seeing him again was also undoing all of her own fears and worries.
They stayed like that for a long moment, before Hadrian pulled away and gently tucked some of her inky black hair behind her ear. "Maman."
Her green eyes, brighter than normal and matching his, roamed over him, taking in everything. Something flashed through them too quickly for him to catch, but whatever it was vanished in the next moment. She smiled up at him, one hand coming up and cupping his cheek. "I am so glad you are safe."
Almost an hour later, after being escorted to another room, Hadrian stood next to Lily. His mother had not spoken much during the round of introductions he had had to endure, seeing as she had already been acquainted with all of the politicians that come through. But Hadrian knew that they would eventually have to discuss everything.
He was dreading having to tell her what the first task was. He had told her that winning the tournament would be beneficial to them, but if he died during the first task then their plan would come undone. He doubted she would be pleased to hear he was being pitted against a manticore.
There was also the problem of Éric, who was prowling around the room. Hadrian knew the man would not pull anything when there were so many witnesses, and he certainly would not approach him about Jacob if Hadrian's mother was present. So, wishing to delay that as long as he could, he remained glued to his mother's side.
"What are you going to do about tomorrow night?" He asked quietly. They were in a relatively secluded corner, and he felt safe enough to bring up this topic with her.
To be honest, he had been blindsided when Minister Lécuyer had informed them that tomorrow night, and the night after, the gathered politicians from the three countries plus the champions and their families, would be asked to attend a small gathering of sorts.
Normally, Hadrian would not be too concerned. But then Lécuyer had informed them that the Dark Lord would be attending the first night. No matter how strong his mother was, Hadrian did not want her in the same room as Voldemort until they were positive she could handle being around the man.
Hadrian had trouble keeping himself subdued whenever he was around the man, and he had virtually no significant past encounters with him. His mother had been there the night Voldemort broke into their house in Godric's Hollow. She had fought against him, and fled from him to protect them.
Lily sighed inaudibly. "I don't know. It is best that I do not go tomorrow night. But I do not like the idea of leaving you alone with them all."
Hadrian smiled at her worry, and bumped his shoulder against hers. "I can survive one night dancing with the sharks maman." He assured her, casting his eyes over the gathered politicians. "And I agree. Somethings might not agree with you."
She inclined her head, "I think a sudden case of mild floo-sickness will be enough to excuse me for one night. Not entirely suspicious considering our manner of travelling here. International travel is always more taxing on the body."
Hadrian hummed knowingly, "And your immune system is, of course, still unsteady from your last bout of the cold." Lily's green eyes looked up at him with approval. "Best not to risk you becoming more unwell, maman, by pushing yourself to attend a simple gathering." He continued, the words of a doting son, but the tone of a mischievous boy.
Lily knocked her knuckles against his. "Indeed. I expect you will make the appropriate apologies on my behalf."
"Naturally."
She sighed again, a little louder this time. "Are you sure you will be okay without me there? I do not like the idea of letting you fend for yourselves with...them."
He chuckled humourlessly. "I have done alright so far. And besides, the only ones I have to watch for have already formed a solid opinion on me. I am a talented mudblood. Good enough to get noticed, but still too dirty to pay much attention to."
"Please don't use that term, not even in jest." Her voice was steely and Hadrian dipped his head in apology.
"You're right. I'm sorry, I should know better."
"It's alright, I understand what you mean anyway. So," she brought them back on topic. "you will be alright?"
Hadrian brought up his left hand and placed it on her shoulder, "Maman, I will be completely fine." He said firmly, yet kindly. Her concern was sweet, but unnecessary. He had been dealing perfectly well here on his own for more than a month. One more night would not kill him.
Lily was no longer listening to him though, her gaze was fixed on his arm - or rather, the bracelet that peeked out from under his sleeve. "What is that?"
Hadrian drew his hand away self-consciously. His mother did not sound pleased at all. "It is a condition to being champion. We all wear one."
"And just what does it do to you?" Her lovely face was pinched.
He grimaced. "Unclear. We were told it monitored our health, and that it protects us against dangerous spells and poisons, to make sure we do not die in between tasks."
She fell silent, glaring at the silver snake with abhorrence. Her disgust melted away though. "Why are its eyes glowing?"
Hadrian opened his mouth to answer - to tell her that for some reason Voldemort had done something extra to his - but he fell silent before any words could escape.
His mother was already stressed enough from these events, hearing that the Dark Lord had focussed on him specifically and done something suspicious to his bracelet would cause her more problems than she needed. He could figure out what was going on by himself. There was no need to give her something else to worry about.
So he shrugged, "I don't know." He answered, not technically lying. "It's eyes started glowing when it was put on me." Again, not a lie. He watched as his mother frowned, pensive. She was not satisfied with his answer, but she had no choice but to let it go for now, because the Minister was calling for their attention again.
OoO
He stood, sipping slowly at his drink, eyes scanning the crowd leisurely. The gathering was well underway at this point, and so far Hadrian had successfully managed to escape any significant attention.
Minister Lécuyer had spent the first half of the night looming close to him, more than ready to bring up his academic success, his prodigious skill and any other aspect she could to make these bigots see him as a credible threat to their own champions. Few seemed to take her words seriously though, and those that did were far too prideful to approach him about it.
His tactless comment yesterday with his mother, while insulting, was entirely true. To most here, he was considered a mudblood, and as such, they hardly believed him worthy of their notice. Oh, a select few had come to him throughout the night, picking at him in a similar fashion to how vultures swarmed, but they were easy enough to handle.
A smile here, and flattering comment there, and they left him alone, content in the knowledge that while he was charming, he was not particularly threatening.
Their mistake. He thought with a small smirk.
If this continued, he might actually manage to survive the night without having to deal with too much.
He spotted Draco hovering beside his father and mockingly saluted the blond when they locked eyes. The Slytherin looked unimpressed with his cheeky response to his barely-concealed boredom.
Not my fault you're his son.
"Mr. Evans, any particular reason you are lurking in the shadows rather than enjoying the company?" The sibilant voice shocked him, and he quickly turned to meet the burning crimson gaze that pinned him in his place. Hadrian's fingers tightened around the stem of his glass.
"Lord Voldemort." He greeted, a brief pause between the title and the name, making it stilted. He shook the feeling of unease off and answered the man's initial question. "I am not in a particularly social mood this evening, I'm afraid."
"Ah yes," the Dark Lord spoke softly, "I had heard your mother was not attending tonight due to illness. Her state would, naturally, preoccupy your thoughts."
Hadrian blinked as a perfect excuse for his attitude was handed to him. He internally frowned, but nodded in agreement. Let the man think what he wanted, it mattered little.
"International travel is often hard on those in an already fragile state, due to the amount of magic it takes to transport one over such great distances." Voldemort nodded at him, "Please pass along my well-wishes for her swift recovery. Have a good evening, Mr. Evans." And like that, the serpentine looking man was gliding away from him.
Hadrian watched him go with narrowed eyes, his mind spinning over the chorus of what was that?
He stiffened abruptly, breath choking off.
"I had heard your mother was not attending tonight due to illness."
He had used the phrasing his mother had when they had spoken yesterday. Not exactly the same but...it was far to coincidental for his tastes.
"I had heard your mother..."
He had not mentioned to anyone else the 'previous' cold his mother had suffered from. Most simply took his word for it when he had explained that she was not feeling well. There was no way Voldemort could have known about...
"I had heard..."
Hadrian eyes darkened, and tiny, hairline cracks appeared in the glass window behind him. He watched as the Dark Lord spoke with several politicians, as if he had not just alerted Hadrian to exactly what his bracelet had been doing.
You son of a bitch.
Notes: