As usual, the air in the Divinations classroom was thick with the pungent odour of incense. Hadrian stared listlessly at the shiny baubles hanging from the ceiling, idly admiring the play of light on the coloured glass. Professor Trelawney was going on about something to do with Jupiter's alignment with Mars. He barely paid her any attention on a good day, but now with that incident with Crouch on his mind, he wasn't even pretending to listen.
Gaze fixed on the swaying windchimes, he forcefully cleared his mind. The wispy fumes from the joss sticks lulled him into a light doze even as he fought to stay alert. Abruptly, his mind sharpened as foreign images played in his mind's eye.
An owl swooped into the window of a dilapidated old manor house. The room was bare but for a plump man, a snake and...some thing seated on an armchair.
In a strangely placid mood, Hadrian witnessed the conversations in the room before the thing in the chair whipped out a wand and trained it on the man. Detached as he was, he didn't flinch when the Unforgiveable was unleashed on the cowering man. He did, however, when he felt the excruciating pain hit himself. Somewhere far away, he heard agonised screams.
Then he felt his shoulder being shaken and he opened his eyes (when had he closed them?). The hoarse cries stopped, and he realised that he was the source of them. The Divinations classroom swam back into focus, as did the concerned face of Ron.
"You okay mate?" his friend asked worriedly. "You just collapsed and started shrieking."
"I'm alright," Hadrian muttered, picking himself off the floor. His forehead ached something fierce, though he resisted the urge to touch it. Who knew what kind of commotion that would cause with countless pairs of eyes trained on his every move. Great. More fodder to feed the Boy-Who-Lived's exclusive gossip mill.
Professor Trelawney drifted over to their table, scrutinising Hadrian with an unprecedented focus. "What did you see, Mr Potter? I know what it looks like when someone has had a vision."
He shrugged dismissively. "Just a migraine, Professor," he lied.
She narrowed her eyes and pressed him for more details. Fortunately, the hour sounded, interrupting her interrogation. He jumped out of his seat - clenching his jaw against the sudden vertigo - and hurried out of the room.
'Saved by the bell,' he thought wryly.
As he walked, he ignored the not-so-surreptitious looks Ron shot him. Now that he could, he thought over what he'd seen. That fat man had definitely been that bastard Pettigrew. Hadrian gritted his teeth at the thought that the traitorous coward was still out there, running free. At the same time, dread filled him as he thought of the other thing in the room. And he didn't mean the snake. The thing could only be Voldemort. The throbbing in his scar was proof of it.
He made an abrupt turn and detoured from his original route, waving Ron off. He couldn't hide it any longer. This wasn't the first time his scar had bothered him recently. It had never been quite so serious, true, but perhaps he shouldn't have simply written those other incidents off.
He could only hope that Heather wouldn't be too mad once she found out.
~~~
Hadrian
If it pleases you, I would like to invite you for tea this afternoon at three.
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I've always loved the crisp freshness of Ice Mice.
Thanking the second year Ravenclaw that had handed it to him, Hadrian folded the note up and tucked it into his satchel.
Ron nudged him in the side. "So what was that about, Hadrian?"
"Yes, what did the Headmaster want?" Hermione asked curiously.
Hadrian hummed nonchalantly. "He wants to meet me." He cast a Tempus. "In half an hour."
"What for?" Ron scrunched his brows in confusion. "You didn't do anything to get in trouble, did you?" He gave an offended look. "Why didn't you let us in on it?"
Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Of course Hadrian didn't, Ronald! This must be about his episode in Divination. Or the tournament."
Hadrian nodded. "Yeah, probably. I should be going. It'll take a while to get there from here."
"See you later mate!"
"Err, I'll be meeting Cedric later, remember?" Hadrian reminded sheepishly.
"Don't know why you've been spending so much time with Pretty Boy Diggory," Ron muttered petulantly.
Hermione only gave him a too-knowing look and waved him off. Hadrian barely held in his bright-red blush. She was much too perceptive. Or maybe it was just a girl thing.
As he walked off, his thoughts drifted back to his imminent meeting with the Headmaster. He had the nagging feeling that Hermione had been right about the meeting being about the thing in Divs. He bit his lip worriedly. Even Heather had been clueless as to what had happened. He remembered what happened after he had told her.
~~~
"You should have told me the moment your scar started giving you problems!" Heather chided him disapprovingly.
He gave her a chastised look. "I know, and I'm sorry! So do you know what happened?"
She frowned, lost in thought. "You said your scar has been hurting on and off. And this time it was accompanied by a vision of some sort."
He affirmed it, though she wasn't really asking. "It was really odd. It was hazy, like a dream, but not. It was...more real than a dream, if you know what I mean."
"So you're pretty sure that it really happened?"
He nodded firmly.
His sister sighed in frustration. "I...I don't know what's going on," she said reluctantly. "Let's say that you really were witnessing a scene between Voldemort and Pettigrew. Why would that happen?"
"Well," he said carefully, "did he do anything to my scar that night?" He was hesitant to bring it up, knowing Heather was still haunted by the memory.
Her eyes darkened in remembrance. "No. He only shot the spell at you." No need to elaborate on what that spell was. "When it rebounded and hit him, he was destroyed immediately."
"Maybe, maybe it was the failed spell that did something? It didn't work 'cos he didn't cast it properly? So instead it did something else."
She laughed bitterly. "Oh, he had no problem with that spell. He can cast it properly."
He bit his lip, cursing himself. Right, of course she knew that. She'd seen it first-hand, hadn't she? He reached out and squeezed her hand in comfort. Heather smiled thinly and shook her head, as if to clear her thoughts.
"I have to go research this. Spell residues don't usually result in weird mind links. Not unless it was mind magic or something." An odd look passed over her. "Anyway, don't you worry too much about it. And if you feel anything else from your scar, let me know."
~~~
Hadrian tucked the memory away. That had been the moment that it occurred to him that his older sister was not, in fact, omnipotent. Logically, he had known that, of course. But she had always, always held all the answers to their problems before. The immense worry that had hit him after that made him realise that he'd expected Heather to know how to solve the issue.
He smiled self-deprecatingly. He'd been trying to gain more independence through the Triwizard Tournament, but it seemed that he was still extremely reliant on his sister.
He approached the gargoyle that guarded the Headmaster's office. "Ice Mice," he whispered, stepping back slightly as the door swung open.
He surprised to note that the Professor wasn't in the room at all. As usual, various oddments and gadgets were lined the large desk and the nearby shelves. His gaze was drawn towards a large bowl filled with shimmering liquid in the centre of the desk. A potion, perhaps? Heather would know.
He walked in, smiling at Fawkes, who was preening on his stand. The brief moment of distraction cost him. He was caught unawares by the edge of a thick carpet and he tripped, falling forwards. He shut his eyes tightly, holding his hands out to catch himself before he planted his face on the Headmaster's desk.
A tingling feeling washed over his face and he felt himself fall impossibly further.
~~~
Hadrian felt a gentle hand on his shoulder as he surfaced from the scene. Mind whirling, he turned to see Headmaster Dumbledore's twinkling gaze. "I'm sorry, sir! I tripped and fell-"
The man held up a hand. "None of that now, my boy. I know you weren't purposely snooping around. Here, take a seat. Tea?"
Hadrian accepted the cup and drank gratefully. His nerves thanked him for it. What he'd seen was just... Professor Snape was a Deatheater? No, he shook his head. The Professor Dumbledore in the scene said he'd turned around and become a spy. But that meant he had been one!
"I imagine you have some questions?" The elderly wizard stared calmly over his own cup.
"Professor Snape?" he blurted out. Well, that could have come out better.
"Ahh, yes. I thought you'd ask that." The Headmaster sighed. "It is indeed true. Severus made a grave mistake in his youth, but he eventually repented and became a spy for the side of the Light."
Hadrian opened his mouth, then closed it again. The encouraging glance sent his way made him ask. "How do you know you can trust him?" He didn't want to doubt the Potions Master, but it was difficult knowing he'd once willingly joined Voldemort. And what with Heather falling out with the guy... He didn't know exactly what had happened, but he had a feeling that they had argued over him.
The Headmaster looked at him solemnly. "I am afraid that is between him and me. Know this, however, Hadrian. I trust that man with my life."
And what more could Hadrian say in response to that? In the end, he didn't, simply nodding.
"Ahh, it seems we got sidetracked from my original reason for asking to speak to you. I heard about a certain event that happened in Divinations a few days ago. Is there anything you'd like to tell me?" The man hadn't let up on his serious expression, out of place on the usually jovial wizard.
After some consideration, Hadrian described his experience to him, hoping that he could shine some light on the subject.
The Headmaster's expression was kept decidedly neutral as Hadrian told his story. Finally, he sighed and said, "Voldemort formed a link between you two that night. I have reason to believe that the failed Killing Curse left a portion of his powers in you. That would explain your Parseltongue abilities. I would assume that he has regained some measure of his power recently, which resulted in that vision you had."
Hadrian shivered in revulsion at the thought of having some of Voldemort's magic. He didn't want any part of the monster inside him.
"Well, now that that has been addressed, I believe you have an appointment to keep?"
He stared in bemusement. How did the Headmaster know about his meeting with Cedric?
The man tapped the side of his nose. "You wouldn't want to be late, would you? Good luck for the third task, my boy."
"Right, of course. Thank you, sir." Vaguely discomfited, he scampered out of the office. He had more questions he did answers, as usual after a meeting with the Headmaster. He was really glad that he was soon going to see his...boyfriend. (He blushed even thinking of the Hufflepuff like that.) Cedric's cheerfulness and sensitivity was just what he needed right now.
~~~
Twin pairs of blue eyes goggled at Heather as she entered the room. To be more exact, however, they were goggling at the various stacks of books floating in behind her.
Fred nudged his brother. "Gred, she's starting another project again."
"Yes, I can see that, Forge. And what a whopper of a project it seems to be!" George eyed the intimidating thick tomes.
Addressing her now, they ask, "Is this all for the map?"
She looked at them questioningly. "Map?" Then she remembered that she'd been planning on improving the Marauder's Map. "Oh, no. I'll be postponing that for now. Hadrian needs my help."
"We thought he wanted to-"
"-do the tournament on his own."
Sighing, she cracked open the first book, Bonds of Magicke. "No, not for the dumb task. His scar's been bothering him. You heard about the Divs incident?"
They nodded. "Yeah, he got a fit or something? Ronnie told us."
"He got a vision. About Voldemort." They couldn't hold back a minute flinch at the mention of the name. It wasn't actually as bad as the first time she'd said the name. They'd actually taken a few steps back that time.
"What?" "Why?"
She put the book down. Nope, not that one. "Well, that's what I'm trying to find out."
They each picked up a book themselves. "Well, three heads are better than one. Even if yours is a big one."
"Are these from the Restricted Section?"
At her nod, they shared an excited look. "Cool."
"You're probably the only sixth year-"
"-with a long-term pass, you know that?"
She grimaced. "Professor Snape was very obliging when I asked last year." Of course, he'd said that he couldn't be bothered anymore to write up passes every time she asked. Pushing aside thoughts of the man, she focussed on the book in her hands.
Unbeknownst to her, Fred and George exchanged shrewd looks, having noticed her sudden change in mood.