Chapter 29- Echoes and Decisions
The grand ballroom had dimmed, and the guests at the Delacour's exquisite gathering were slowly drifting toward the exit, the last echoes of the evening's music fading away like remnants of some gilded dream. Hadrian let out a quiet sigh, catching his reflection in a nearby mirror. His tie hung loosely, his hair tousled from a long night spent between polite conversation, dancing, and keeping himself from slipping into thoughts he'd rather avoid.
As Hadrian Potter prepared to leave, his heart was still racing from the whirlwind of emotions he had experienced throughout the evening.
The night had been an intricate dance.
Fleur Delacour, her striking blue eyes gleaming with something unreadable, approached Hadrian as he stood near the entrance, waiting for Sirius and Tonks. There was an unmistakable sway in her step, a confidence that came with the knowledge of her Veela heritage and the power it bestowed upon her. She reached out, her fingers grazing Hadrian's cheek, sending a shiver down his spine.
"'Adrian," she whispered, her French accent curling around his name like a lover's caress. "You were magnificent tonight."
Before Hadrian could respond, Fleur leaned in, her soft lips capturing his in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Her tongue pressed forward, dominating the kiss in a way that left Hadrian breathless, his mind spinning with the force of her presence. His hands instinctively moved to her waist, feeling the curve of her hips, but Fleur was in control, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until he was sure his heart would burst from the intensity of it.
When she finally pulled away, Hadrian's face was flushed, his lips tingling with the memory of her touch. Fleur smirked, a knowing look in her eyes as she whispered in his ear, "Until we meet again, mon cher."
Just as he prepared to follow Sirius and the others towards the door, a quick flash of pale blonde hair appeared in his peripheral vision. Daphne. Her blue eyes were sharp, focused, almost pressing into him with an intensity that wasn't typical of her. She approached with a quick stride, her face a mask of resolve and something else that Hadrian couldn't quite identify — something simmering beneath her carefully controlled expression.
He barely had time to blink before she reached him, her hand slipping around his wrist in a subtle but firm grip. Without a word, she pulled him towards a shadowed corner of the hall, her fingers cool against his skin, her head held high in a way that brokered no argument. Behind them, Sirius grinned, raising an eyebrow in an exaggerated look of amusement as he called after them, "Try not to get lost, you two. Hadrian might need a map!"
Hadrian managed a faint, lopsided smile in response, but something in Daphne's expression had caught his attention. She was serious — more serious than he'd ever seen her. Her face was taut with purpose, her lips pressed together as she led him around a column, out of view of the others. He followed, instinctively quiet, a hint of tension unfurling in his chest as he caught the faint crease between her brows, the way her eyes darted with restless energy.
When she finally stopped, she took a breath, loosening her hold on his wrist but letting her fingers linger just a moment longer before dropping her hand. Her gaze shifted away, almost evasive, before she looked back at him, her expression tight and unreadable."Hadrian," she began, her voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. He raised his eyebrows, sensing the weight of whatever she was about to say.
"Did you... did you receive my letter?"
He nodded, adjusting his stance as he glanced at her, hoping to gauge her mood better. "Yes, I did," he replied carefully. "But I didn't quite understand it."
Daphne's face broke into a brief expression of exasperation, and she lifted a hand to her temple, massaging it with a small, frustrated sigh. "Of course, you didn't. Merlin, Hadrian — you really don't know the pureblood codes, do you?" Her voice held a faint trace of disbelief mixed with resignation, as if she had half-expected his response but was still disappointed by it.
Hadrian's confusion deepened. He'd been raised in the basics of pureblood customs by Sirius, but the codes and hidden meanings were largely foreign territory, unspoken secrets that those outside the pureblood circles seldom touched. His expression must have given him away, as Daphne's face softened, a touch of color rising to her cheeks.
"Alright, let me explain," she said, crossing her arms and fixing him with a steady gaze. She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts, and then began, her tone calm and measured."When I wrote about... certain things," she said, a faint tremor betraying the steadiness in her voice, "I was using codes that families like mine — old families, neutral ones — use when we need to convey something... important." Her gaze faltered briefly, then steadied again. "Codes we use when we need to avoid openly speaking of sensitive topics."
She paused, searching his eyes for understanding, but he was still a bit lost, feeling as though he were grasping at threads that were slipping through his fingers. She bit her lip, as if contemplating how much to reveal, then continued, her tone tinged with a rare vulnerability."When I wrote about the 'moon crossing the sea'... it meant that something in my life was changing — something fundamental, something that would be considered out of place by my family's standards."
Hadrian's eyes widened slightly. He remembered the line from her letter, but at the time, he'd dismissed it as a poetic flourish, something cryptic but ultimately harmless. Now, he realized it was far more loaded than he'd imagined."Then... when you mentioned the 'house divided'..." he prompted, trailing off as the weight of the words dawned on him.
Daphne inclined her head slowly, her gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. "It means... that there's conflict within my family. And it's because of us — you and me."
There was a moment of silence as her words settled over him, as heavy as the stone walls around them. He struggled to process it, his mind churning as he recalled the careful phrases in her letter, the veiled hints and words that had seemed meaningless at the time but now loomed with quiet intensity.
Daphne took a deep breath, her face shadowed in a mixture of determination and resignation as she looked up at him again. "I told my father about... us," she said quietly, her eyes locking onto his with a fierce, almost desperate intensity. "He's... not pleased, to put it mildly."
Hadrian felt his chest tighten, a knot of worry unraveling as he reached out, resting a hand on her arm. "Why not?" he asked, though he suspected he already knew the answer.
She glanced away, her jaw tensing. "My family is... gray. We're known for being neutral. The Greengrasses have always held an unaligned stance — neither light nor dark, trusted by both sides but sworn to neither. And... being with someone like you, with a name like Potter..." Her voice wavered slightly. "It would be seen as aligning with the light. It would mean... alienating the dark families, those aligned with Death Eaters."
He absorbed her words, feeling the full weight of what she was saying. It wasn't just about their relationship; it was about the dangerous game of alliances and power plays within the wizarding world. By choosing him, Daphne was effectively choosing a side, and her family would pay the price.
She took a shaky breath, her gaze finally lifting to meet his, her eyes blazing with defiance. "He's warned me that if I go through with this, if we... if we're together openly, we'll lose everything. The dark families won't tolerate it. They'll see us as traitors, as a family that's gone soft. It's... dangerous, Hadrian. More dangerous than you realize."
Hadrian's mind raced, the stakes growing clearer with every word she spoke. He could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him, the fear gnawing at the edges of his thoughts. Yet, when he looked at Daphne, standing there with her chin lifted, defying her family, her world, for him — his heart swelled with a fierce determination.
"I... I understand," he said softly, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning within him. He placed his hand gently on her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin, feeling the faint warmth of her blush beneath his touch. "Daphne, I'm not going anywhere. Whatever it takes, whatever risks... I want this. I want us."
Her expression softened, her shoulders relaxing slightly as she leaned into his touch. For a moment, a shadow of doubt flickered in her eyes, but then she nodded, her face breaking into a small, hesitant smile.
"Then... let's make it worth it," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she closed the distance between them.
And just like that, her lips met his, soft and warm, a mixture of relief and unspoken promises passing between them. Hadrian felt the world blur around them, as if everything else had faded away, leaving only her — only this moment. Her hand came up to rest on his shoulder, fingers curling slightly as she pulled him closer, her heartbeat steady against his.When they finally pulled apart, Daphne's cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright with a mixture of hope and determination. She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, her lips curving into a small, fierce smile.
"Then let's face them together," she said, her voice barely a whisper. Hadrian nodded, his own smile mirroring hers.
She kissed him one last time and walked away. Hadrian just stared, unable to form words as he watched her walk away, her hips swaying provocatively. His thoughts were a chaotic mess of emotions as he made his way to Sirius and Tonks, who were waiting by the Portkey.
The trip back to Grimmauld Place was a blur, the familiar tug of the Portkey transporting them from the grandeur of the Delacour Manor to the dark, brooding house that Sirius called home. The moment they arrived, Sirius was quick to pounce on Hadrian, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"So, Hadrian," Sirius began, a playful smirk on his lips as he clapped a hand on his godson's shoulder, "three girls, eh? I didn't even manage that in my first year."Hadrian flushed crimson, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's not like that, Sirius."
"Oh, but it is," Tonks chimed in, curling up beside Hadrian on the worn leather couch. Her breath was warm against his neck, causing another flush of heat to rise in his cheeks. "You've got all three of us wrapped around your little finger, Hadrian."
Hadrian tried to play it off, shrugging casually even as his heart raced. His mind was still thinking about Daphne and the internal conflict. "You're exaggerating."Sirius laughed, the sound echoing through the dimly lit room, breaking his thoughts as Hadrian forced a quick smile. "Exaggerating? I think not. You've got Daphne, Fleur, and my dear cousin here all vying for your attention. Quite the predicament for a twelve-year-old, don't you think?"
Hadrian couldn't help but smile at the absurdity of it all, though a part of him couldn't shake the unease that had been building throughout the evening. It wasn't just the attention from the girls that had him on edge. Nor was it about Daphne. There was something deeper, something that gnawed at him from the inside.
The atmosphere shifted as Sirius' laughter died down, replaced by a more serious tone. "Hadrian, about Hogwarts... I've been hearing some things."
Hadrian tensed, his earlier levity vanishing as he met Sirius' gaze. "What things?""The attack," Sirius said quietly, his expression darkening. "I've heard that you got attacked. And I also know that it wasn't some random incident. There's something more to it, isn't there?"
Hadrian hesitated, his mind flashing back to the chaos of that night—the screams, the flashes of spells, the terror that had gripped him. He hadn't told anyone the full truth, not even Sirius. But now, with his godfather's piercing gaze locked on him, he found it impossible to keep it hidden any longer.
"There was something," Hadrian admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Something dark... and familiar. It reminded me of the attack in Knockturn Alley."Sirius' expression turned grim, his brows furrowing as he processed Hadrian's words. "Knockturn Alley... Are you saying there's a connection?"
Hadrian nodded, his thoughts racing. "I don't know what it is, but I'm going to find out. I have to."Sirius placed a hand on Hadrian's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "I understand, but be careful. There are forces at play here that are far more dangerous than you realize. Promise me you won't do anything reckless."
Hadrian nodded, though his mind was already made up. He would uncover the truth, no matter the cost. "I promise," he said, though the doubt in his voice was clear.
As the conversation drifted off, Hadrian found himself lost in thought. The events of the night swirled in his mind—the intense dance with Fleur, the cryptic words of the Thestral, and the encounter with the boy who had sneered at him, igniting a fire of determination within him. There was so much he didn't understand, so much that needed to be uncovered.
But then, his thoughts shifted to something—or rather, someone—else. The gang that had raised him, the only family he had known before Hogwarts. He realized with a start that he hadn't thought about them once during the holidays. Guilt gnawed at him, and he made a sudden decision.
"The gang," Hadrian murmured to himself. "I have to see them."He turned to Sirius, who was still watching him with a concerned expression. "I'm going to visit them tomorrow. There's only a week left of the holidays, and I need to see them."Sirius nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. "Of course. You do what you need to do, Hadrian."
Hadrian gave a resolute nod, feeling a sense of purpose settle over him. The mysteries of Hogwarts, the attack, the strange boy at the ball—they could all wait. For now, there was only one thing on his mind.Tomorrow, he would return to the gang that had raised him. Everything else could go to hell.