Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place
June 23th, 1990
Just a week later, another opportunity arose for Hadrian to get to London. It was Dudley’s tenth birthday, and Petunia and Vernon were taking him and some of his friends to an amusement park. Hadrian had been left at home. That wasn’t where he would stay, though.
Hadrian had waited for a moment to slip away from Privet Drive and go to London, and his chance was already there.
He had made plans to go to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He would be able to find it without problems, as the Fidelius wouldn’t be on the house yet. Hadrian was sure Grimmauld Place would bring him a lot of opportunities. For one, there was bound to be a library there. Hadrian was itching to find out more about being a metamorphmagus.
Not to mention the Horcrux, which he would have to get at some point. And then there was Kreacher. Kreacher was complicated. On one hand, he could be blamed for Sirius being killed in his first life. He was also a blood purist, and he also just wasn’t very nice.
On the other hand, his pureblood supremacist beliefs were what he had been taught. And he betrayed Sirius because he had hated Kreacher and had been horrible towards him. Kreacher liked those who were nice to him, and disliked people who weren’t. And Harry had managed to if not befriend him, at least gained respect and mutual understanding with Kreacher, so Hadrian should absolutely be able to befriend Kreacher. And a loyal house elf could come in handy very often. And it would be better for Kreacher to serve him than be stuck in Grimmauld Place any longer.
Anyways, there were a lot of benefits having access to Grimmauld Place. In a worst case scenario, he could even live there if he had to escape the Dursleys.
As the aforementioned made their way to the amusement park, Hadrian finished up doing the dishes after Dudley’s birthday breakfast. Dudley had been particularly nasty since it was his birthday, and Hadrian had had to endure more than a few rude remarks and even some food thrown his way.
When he was finished, Hadrian hastily exited the house, and made his way to the train station.
The ride was uneventful, and as the train neared London, Hadrian became anxious. What if he couldn’t enter the house? What if there was someone there except Kreacher? What if Dumbledore would get wind of his visit? He tried being rational about it. No one lived there, and Dumbledore didn’t have any affiliation to the house yet. The only problem that would be a little likely to arise, was that Hadrian wouldn’t be able to enter. But should that happen, he was certain the goblins could help him. And the wards of the house should recognize his family magicks in the first place.
The train entered the station, and Hadrian exited the train. He took another train to Islington, and quickly made his way to Grimmauld Place.
He soon recognized the building. It was a nostalgic sight. Not necessarily a pleasant one, but Hadrian felt a sort of homey connection with the house. Although that might just be the family magick.
Hadrian hesitated as he approached the door. He took a deep breath, and placed his hand on the handle.
Instantly, the connection he had felt grew bigger and bigger, and he felt a pressure on his chest and on his head and his heart was beating so fast and his lungs were full with air but he couldn’t breathe and then the pressure lessened and Hadrian took a deep breath because he could finally breathe again, and he could push down the handle and open the door.
Once he entered, a feeling of warm welcome swept over him. Hadrian smiled. He could feel the family magick embracing him. For a moment, he was incredibly angry at Dumbledore for denying him this.
But Hadrian had more important things to do than being angry at Dumbledore. Hesitantly, he called out: “Kreacher?”
With a crack, the old house elf appeared in front of him.
“The new Master Hadrian has called me, the blood traitor,” Kreacher muttered. “killed the Dark Lord, he did, oh yes, Kreacher remembers it, the Mistress was so distraught…”
“Kreacher!” Hadrian repeated, after a moment of surprise over the fact that Kreacher knew his name, and the correct one, at that.
“Master Hadrian,” Kreacher said, suddenly aware that he was standing in front of Hadrian. He bowed. “Master has called Kreacher?”
“Yes,” Hadrian replied. He tried sounding confident. “I have recently become aware that I’m heir to the Noble and most Ancient House of Black, so I have come here to learn what my duty entails.”
“Master is well informed, yes he is, Kreacher will admit it,” Kreacher muttered. “Has Master Hadrian not checked the family vault to read about the noble traditions of the House of Black?”
Hadrian smiled at him. “I’m still nine years old, so I can’t enter the vault yet,” he said.
“Kreacher understands, Master Hadrian is still such a young boy…” Kreacher murmured. His mind about Hadrian seemed to shift a little. “Well, Kreacher supposes Young Master Hadrian could check the Black Library on the third floor.”
“Thanks a lot, Kreacher.” Hadrian smiled again. “Would you mind making me a sandwich?” he asked Kreacher.
”Kreacher wouldn’t mind, Kreacher supposes,” Kreacher replied. “Young Master Hadrian is respectful of Kreacher, not like bad Dog-Master Sirius, oh no, he was a disgrace to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black…” he added, muttering.
Hadrian left Kreacher alone to his rantings about Sirius. He felt accomplished. He had located and entered the house without any trouble, and Kreacher hadn’t murdered him. Hadrian even thought Kreacher was beginning to warm up to him.
He took the stairs up to the third floor, and entered the Black Library. It was quite dark, and he got a gloomy feeling. The library had to be ancient, Hadrian thought, as he looked at the state of the books. The shelves were made of old, dark brown wood, and were raised a good fifteen feet up to the high ceiling. There were ladders hanging down from bars on the ceiling, which one could move to reach the books on the top of the shelves. Hadrian didn’t think they looked very safe.
He noticed a large book on a lectern, with a quill and a bottle of ink beside it. Hadrian guessed it was some sort of register, with a search mechanism. That would come in handy.
He suddenly heard a crack behind him, and he spun around, his heart skipping a beat, but it was just Kreacher, holding a plate.
“Here are Young Master Hadrian’s sandwiches,” Kreacher said, and put down the plate on the nearest table.
“Thank you, Kreacher,” Hadrian smiled.
“Does Young Master Hadrian need anything else?” Kreacher asked.
Hadrian shook his head. “No, but thanks, Kreacher.”
Kreacher bowed. “Young Master Hadrian is quite nice to Kreacher,” he murmured as he exited the library. “Kreacher would never have thought a blood traitor would be nice, oh no…”
Hadrian was relieved. He had dreaded Kreacher to be a real piece of work, but it was really simple. For a house elf to like you, you just had to be nice. It really wasn’t that hard.
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After an hour and a half, it was easier for Hadrian getting his way around the library. Kreacher had told him most of the books were allowed to be removed from the library, so Hadrian was stacking up a pile of books he wanted to take with him. He had bought his suitcase, of course, but Kreacher needed to check out the books before he could pack them.
Until now he had found promising reads like Everything You Need To Know About Metamorphmagic, An Introduction To Dark Arts, and Intermediate Enchanting, among others. He had also, with Kreachers help, found two incredibly heavy books on Black Family traditions and Black Family Magick.
Another insanely useful book he had found, was a self-updating record book of Wizengamot voting and bill records since 1900. He had skimmed it, and was sure it was going to prove very useful. He had already decided he was going to check out in-depth when he got back to Privet Drive.
Another hour later, he had put aside enough books to fill his suitcase. He called Kreacher, who swiftly checked out his books.
“Does Young Master Hadrian need anything else?” Kreacher asked when he was finished.
“Yes,” Hadrian said. “I need to go to Diagon Alley, could you apparate me?”
Kreacher nodded. “That would be no problem for Kreacher.”
Hadrian picked up the suitcase, now closed and filled to the brim with books. Kreacher grabbed his arm, and they disapparated. Hadrian waited for the wave of nausea that usually followed side-along apparation, but was pleasantly surprised when it didn’t come. Maybe it was some secret perk to being the Master of Death, who knew. Or maybe it was because he still knew apparation from his first life. He made a mental note to check if he could still apparate.
They had arrived in a side street in Diagon Alley, about thirty feet from the Leaky Cauldron.
“Kreacher will be on his way then,” Kreacher remarked. “If Young Master Hadrian doesn’t need anything else?”
“No, I don’t need anything more,” Hadrian responded. “But you can accompany me, if you want to.”
Kreacher hesitated for a moment. “Kreacher has nothing better to do, Kreacher supposes,” he muttered.
“Great!” Hadrian exclaimed. “We’ll go to Gringotts first.”
They made their way over to the bank, and entered. Hadrian asked the goblin at the front desk for Járnvilji, who arrived swiftly.
“Good day to you, Mr. Potter,” Járnvilji greeted, grinning. “Let us move to my office before we get to business.”
They entered Járnvilji’s office, which now officially was the Potter account manager office, and Hadrian sat down across from Járnvilji. Kreacher remained standing at Hadrian’s side.
“So, what brings you here today, Mr Potter?” Járnvilji asked.
“I have been… well, informed of an item which belongs to me, but is in Albus Dumbledore’s possession,” Hadrian started. “It’s a Peverell heirloom, an invisibility cloak.”
Járnvilji raised an eyebrow. “I see.”
“And I was wondering if there was a way to have it returned,” Hadrian continued. “Without Dumbledore knowing I have anything to do with it. That’s really important.”
“That could certainly be arranged,” Járnvilji affirmed. “For a small fee.”
Hadrian grinned, and nodded. “Of course.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Járnvilji asked. Hadrian thought this went surprisingly fast.
“No, that is all,” he said.
He and Kreacher swiftly left the bank.
“Well, that went fast,” Hadrian remarked.
“Kreacher agrees,” Kreacher agreed. “Does Young Master Hadrian wish to visit somewhere else in Diagon Alley?”
“Yes,” Hadrian replied. “I was planning to get an owl.”
They headed towards Eeylops Owl Emporium.
Hadrian had thought a lot about getting an owl. He didn’t really need one, but he could use one to make owl orders for books. And he would need one eventually. But it truly wasn’t necessary yet. The truth was, Hadrian was lonely. In his first life, Harry had been plenty lonely, and Hedwig had been a great companion to make him feel a little better.
It was still a year left before he would go to Hogwarts, he had no friends in Surrey, Hadrian was lonely. So he was getting an owl.
He had thought about Hedwig, but had quickly been sure he wouldn’t get her again. She belonged to Harry.
Hadrian looked around as they entered Eeylops Owl Emporium. He wanted an owl that would stand in contrast to Hedwig. The snow owl symbolized his life as Harry Potter, the saviour of the Light, The Boy Who Lived. But he was Hadrian Potter. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to be the Light’s saviour. And he hated the Boy-Who-Lived title.
His eyes fell on a beautiful dark grey spotted owl. He read on the plate: Great Grey Owl. Well, if that wasn’t fitting.
Fifteen minutes later, he was standing outside with his new owl in a cage, and heaps of owl treats in his pockets.
He had decided to call his owl Dionysos, like the Greek god. He felt it fitted, and he also just liked the name.
He sent Dionysus off to number four, Privet Drive, and headed to Flourish and Blotts with Kreacher.
“Just one more thing now, Kreacher,” he said. Now that he had gotten Dionysus, he might as well get something to do for him.
Hadrian entered the bookstore, and quickly found what he was looking for: a self-updating owl order catalogue.
He paid a whopping ten galleons for it, and left the shop.
“Now, Kreacher, would you mind apparating me to number four, Privet Drive, in Surrey?” Hadrian asked.
“That would be no problem for Kreacher,” Kreacher nodded. He grabbed Hadrian’s arm, and they disapparated.
It was weird, not feeling any nausea, but Hadrian wasn’t complaining. They apparated on the lawn of number four, Privet Drive, and Hadrian said his goodbyes to Kreacher.
“Thank you so much for your help today, Kreacher,” he said.
Kreacher bowed. “Kreacher will be seeing Young Master Hadrian,” he said, and disapparated again.
Hadrian hesitated for a moment, then made his way inside. He was really happy with how far he had come with Kreacher. He had not expected it at all. He supposed Kreacher hadn’t actually known him, and had disliked him only from hearing his role in the Dark Lord’s demise from Walburga Black, Sirius’ mother. It was quite in contrast to his first life, where he had an antagonistic relationship with Kreacher for two years, only gaining his loyalty after giving him Regulus’ locket. When he looked at it that way, it wasn’t really surprising that befriending Kreacher was going much better now, than in his first life.
For a moment, he thought about Hermione and S.P.E.W.. While he hated Hermione for what she had done to him, just like he hated Ginny, Ron, and Dumbledore, there was a grain of truth to the problem S.P.E.W. had set out to fix. House elves being mistreated sucked. Hadrian wasn’t sure if freeing elves that didn’t want to be free was the right way to fix it, but there was definitely a problem there. There was something that needed to be done, but… Hadrian was just nine years old. He decided he was happy to help just by being nice to Kreacher, for now. He would wait a little with interfering in wizarding politics.
Though it wouldn’t hurt to read a little…
As soon as Hadrian was inside the cupboard under the stairs, he began reading Introduction to Magical Customs and Politics. He skipped the customs part, and went straight to a basic explanation of the Wizengamot. Although he had sat trial before the whole Wizengamot in his first life, he didn’t know much about how it worked. He didn’t imagine it to be too different to the British Parliament, just… undemocratic. He knew almost every Wizengamot seat was hereditary, and that he even had inherited some.
When he had gained a basic understanding of the Wizengamot, he put the book down, and got out the self-updating voting record book he had gotten from Grimmauld Place. He wasn’t looking for anything specific, so he skimmed through the newest pages and waited for something to catch his eye.
And something did catch his eye. Securing our Workplace against Dangerous Beasts Act of 1990. By Dolores Umbridge. And it was endorsed by Chief Warlock Albus Dumbledore. Hadrian had just learned that in the Wizengamot, an endorsement wasn’t like a public thing, but something the Chief Warlock could do to speed up the process of a particular bill. And Dumbledore had endorsed a bill proposed by Umbridge. As he looked at the voting record, he saw it had gotten a majority, just a month ago. And Dumbledore had abstained from voting, although, it said, he had been present for the session.
The summary of the bill made it clear it was about restricting werewolves’ and vampires’ chances of getting jobs. Hadrian was kind of shocked. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, but still. Dumbledore, the man who supposedly had been nothing but kind and helpful to people like Remus Lupin, a werewolf, had actively helped to reduce werewolf rights.
He continued skimming the next pages, stopping as he saw Blocked by Chief Warlock. A block, he had also just learned, was like the opposite of an endorsement. It halted the process by a lot. And the bill Dumbledore had blocked was introducing Hogwarts scholarships for impoverished children.
Hadrian knew there already was a scholarship program for muggleborn children. But of course Hadrian, like William Farley, who had introduced the bill, realized that children from magical families also could be impoverished. Believing otherwise was, honestly, stupid, he thought. But Dumbledore had blocked it. Why? Suddenly, Hadrian thought about last week, standing at the entrance of Knockturn Alley. There had been children there, playing on the street. Children with ragged clothes, and bare feet. Children with creature heritage. Children Albus Dumbledore would loathe to see in Hogwarts.
Hadrian snapped the book shut, seething with anger. It was so incredibly unfair. Why did Dumbledore have the right to do this? They were innocent children. He was an innocent child. What gave Dumbledore the right to control their lives, their dreams, even their deaths?
Hadrian wanted to change things. Harry had survived the fate he was given, but Hadrian wouldn’t play the game by Albus Dumbledore’s rules. He was sick of it. He wanted to change the things that were wrong, and live as he pleased. He wanted to take control of his own destiny. He wanted to destroy Albus Dumbledore.