Chapter 4
“Welcome back, Pet. Did you miss me?”
Hadrian hums, nodding his head slightly. Selfishly, he finds himself wishing for those fingers to tangle in his hair once more, but has no illusion that it won’t hurt. Last time must have been a fluke.
The voice chuckles slightly, and the bedding shifts as the figure moves closer. “Words, Pet. Or I’ll think you’re not being sincere.”
Despite the teasing tone something in his chest aches at the thought. “Missed you.” he mumbles, turning his body towards the voice. The voice chuckles again, cooing slightly. Hadrian wants to scowl, but the sudden feeling of a hand tracing his face leaves him gasping for air.
It doesn’t hurt.
His throat feels tight as the fingers gently trace his cheekbone, leaving his skin feeling tingly and flushed. They dip, tracing his jaw, before a finger teasingly traces his lips. Hadrian doesn’t even think as he leans forward, taking the digit into his mouth. He freezes for a second, but no reprimand comes.
Curiously, he traces the digit with his tongue. It doesn’t really taste like anything, and he can feel his brows furrow as he sucks slightly as if trying to draw out flavour. A hitch of breath has him tensing, terrified he’s just done something wrong.
The hand slowly pulls away, pulling a whine from his throat as a silent apology. His throat feels too tight to form words. The voice shushes him soothingly, gently before an arm is wrapped around his waist and he feels himself be pulled towards the other man, leaving him laying flush with another body.
He twists for a moment, all of his nerves alight at the slightest contact, before the man behind him sighs slights and twists them so that Hadrian is pinned between the others legs, back resting on a firm chest with arms like iron holding him still as he pants for breath.
“You fit against me so well, Pet,” the voice whispers in his ear, causing him to bare his neck in a futile attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.
“Not Pet,” he murmurs instead.
“Aren't you?” The voice questions, suddenly sounding cold. Hadrian shivers despite himself, tensing slightly in the other's hold. “You even collared yourself for me, Pet.” One hand dips towards his neck, and it’s only then Hadrian feels the weight of the Locket he found around his neck, pulsing slightly.
“No. No, no’ Pet. Pet ‘s Petunia,” he slurs, well aware he’s not making sense. Thankfully the other seems to get what he’s trying to convey.
“Not Pet then. For how can anything so precious, share a name with a muggle?” He can feel himself flush, at this point.
“Oh? Do you like that, my soul? Do you enjoy listening to how precious you are, how beautiful, how strong, and smart?”
Hadrian continued to squirm, slowly getting redder and redder. Unable to actually move all that much he squeezed his eyes closed tighter, whining helplessly. The voice chuckles again, but now Hadrian can feel the vibrations of it throughout his core, leaving him panting for more.
“Can you tell me about this, my soul?” the voice whispers, pulling lightly on the chain around his throat.
“Found it.”
“Oh?” The voice sounds slightly less amused, “can you tell me where, my soul?”
“Mmmm.” Hadrian hums, arching into the touch. “Black House. Fidelus.”
The voice hums, and Hadrian takes it as a reward as he leans into the vibration, his entire body going lax. His head lulls to the side, and he takes the opportunity to nestle into the other’s shoulder with a content sigh.
“Very good, my soul.” The voice suddenly whispers, before a soft pair of lips trace his bared neck. Hadrian's pulse skyrockets as he arches into the touch, mouth open in a silent gasp –
– Before his eyes fly open, leaving him alone once more.
Hadrian sighs in pent up frustration, wishing desperately that these dreams would just quit torturing him. He sits up while rubbing at his face, trying to destroy the lingering sensations on his skin. Not that he’d know what they’d feel like in real life, the sudden memories of blistering pain washing away any lingering arousal.
A glance around the room reveals it to still be dark out, but he doubts he’ll be getting much sleep now. He rolls out of the bed tiredly hunting around the room for the wix lights. While in theory he should be able to light them with a simple spell, he keeps forgetting to ask Sirius what that spell actually was, meaning he’ll have to light them all individually.
When the room is encased in a soft golden glow, he collapses into the chair he’d angled toward the window. He absently notes that the moon is full tonight as he picks up one of the books he’d placed aside earlier.
Regulus Black, Hardrain had discovered, is into some Dark stuff.
For the past week Hadrian had been exploring Regulus’s collection of books, all the while being extremely careful not to get caught reading them. Turns out he needn’t have bothered as Sirius had barged into his room one day and didn’t even glance at the wall of books; almost as if they weren’t even there. And he seemed rather unconcerned with his godson reading a Dark text, leading Hadrian to discover the tiny runes etched into the back of the books to disguise the appearance and make them easily forgettable. He wondered if they had been placed there by Regulus himself.
The first book he had picked had been innocuous enough, going over the basics of potions (and wouldn’t that have been helpful in his first two years of schooling. He’s honestly lucky that Zabini took pity on him and showed him some of the basics after finding him in the library having a meltdown at the back of the potions section.) It’s not until he’s half way through he picks up on the undertone of human ingredients. Not even he can ignore the use of the aorta in a potion that's labelled to use no creature elements.
The book that Hadrian falls in love with, however, is about Shadow Magic. Hadrian had only ever heard a reference to shadow magic once, when he was in his third year at Hogwarts. One of the seventh years had made a throwaway comment about how the big bad Sirius Black could be using Shadow Magic to get in the castle. Any attempts Hadrian had made to find out what Shadow magic actually was had been shut down, nobody wanting to divulge that information to The Saviour as they used to mockingly call him.
The most frustrating thing about the book is that it’s all theory and despite Regulus’s vast collection, Hadrian can’t find anything else on the subject (though he does find some interesting texts about Necromancy that he place’s aside for later.)
Which brings him to now.
Ripping out a page from a mostly blank note book he unearths a quill and carefully thinks over how he’s going to word this. He can’t take the risk of the Order intercepting his mail and discovering just how Dark their saviour actually is.
Dear Theo,
How are you doing? Whatever you've been up to is most certainly more interesting than how I spent my first month of break. There is only so much wandless magic one can practise before even that becomes tiresome. I’ve even mastered most of them wordlessly now. I wish I could show you, but I doubt I’ll see you for my birthday. It’s a bit hard to get away at the moment, but I suppose anything is better than being trapped with my relatives.
Also, I meant to ask if you could tell your Grandfather that I wish to speak to him regarding that offer he made me.
I don’t even know if owls can get through these wards.
I hope you can write back soon,
Hadrian.
He reads it over a few times, deciding that it's innocuous enough. Theo is smart enough to get the hint, and Theodorus will definitely understand what he means. He unlatches the window and whistles sharply, breathing in the cool air as he waits. A few moments later, the ruffle of feathers greets him as Hedwig lands on the window sill, a bit of blood on her beak from whatever unfortunate animal she’d been hunting beforehand.
“Hey girl.”
Hedwig whistles back softly, leaning into his touch as he strokes her feathers. “Can you deliver something for me, girl?” He laughs softly as Hedwig perks up, already hopping on one leg so that he can attach the letter. He does so, and watches as she puffs up in pride with a fond smile on his face.
“Make sure Theo gets this, but if they try to intercept you I’d rather they read it over then you get hurt.” Hedwig hisses softly, fluffing her feathers in obvious offence. He apologies quickly, assuring her that he has full faith in her abilities. With one last sidelong glance his feathered friend takes to the sky, and he ends up just watching as she glides smoothly through the air until he can no longer see her silhouette in the clouds.
He yawns, reaching for one of the books he’d placed aside earlier and settling down to read. He was trying to find matches for the runes inscribed on the Locket he had found, but so far all he’d been able to find was one sequence that meant Shield. It was attached to another one that Hadrian couldn’t untangle, meaning he didn’t know what it was shielding. Was it itself? The wearer and therefore him? Did it shield only certain types of magic or was it shielding what was hidden inside the thing. That one actually seemed likeliest, as Harry still couldn’t find a way to open the darn thing.
The most frustrating part was that Hadrian could have sworn he’s seen this exact runic sequence somewhere, but he can’t for the life of him remember where.
A knock on his door interrupts his reading, making his head jerk up in surprise and his eyes burn at the sudden light streaming through the window. He could have sworn he’d only been sat down for a few minutes.
“Pup? You in there?”
“Come in!” Hadrian yells around a yawn, trying to rub some life into his face.
“Merlin pup, did you sleep at all last night?” He blinks to see Sirius gazing at him in concern, his brow wrinkled in worry.
“I did!” Hadrian protests, tossing the book onto the table. “I just woke up early and wanted to get some school work done.”
Sirius hums thoughtfully, absently fiddling with a piece of paper in his hand. A spike of worry makes Hadrian's gut churn as he looks at the letter his godfather's holding. “What’s that?”
“It’s what I’m here to talk with you about.” Sirius says, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. Hadrian's chest clenches as Sirius throws an Imperturbable Charm at the door before turning his full attention on the teenager in front of him. “How would you like to sneak into the Ministry with me?”
“The Ministry?” Hadrian asks, suddenly feeling wide awake. His anxiety doesn’t ease.
“Yep. Amelia Bones would like to meet with me concerning my lack of trial. Apparently some concerned teenager reached out to her with all the evidence of my case.” Here, Sirius gives him a knowing look, his grey eyes suspiciously shinny. “So, what do you say?”
“I. Yes” Hadrian stutters, throwing open his closet door. “Are we going now?”
His godfather laughs, and he can hear the near hysterical edge to it. “Yes. I’ve got your twins to cause a few distractions this morning so nobody should notice we’re gone. Hopefully we’ll be back before dinner, and if not we’ll just have to pray that Remus thinks we’ve snuck out to the store and comes up with something.”
Hadrian freezes his movements, replaying those words in his head before turning to face his godfather. “You haven’t told Lupin?”
“Ah.” Sirius shifts, running a hand through his mane of black hair. “Well. Remus has always been the more sensible of the two of us. And there’s no way that Molly won’t notice all three of us missing. At least with Remus here, it won’t raise any alarms.” Hadrian doesn’t know which of them Sirius is trying to convince, so rather than replying he pulls a shirt over his head, and grabs one of the fancier robes that belonged to Regulus.
“What do you think?” He asks, doing a little twirl. The dark blue robe flares slightly at the movement, catching the light and highlighting the onyx thread carefully woven into the fabric.
Sirius whistles appreciatively, a strange look in his eye, as he says softly, “you look great pup.” He clears his throat a second later, his usual playful tone back in place. “Right. Grab that invisibility cloak of yours and meet me outside that last sitting room we gutted.” His godfather orders before ducking out the door. His head pops back a second later. “And make sure nobody sees you!”
When he’s finally gone, Hadrian grabs the cloak and does as instructed. He absently fiddles with the locket around his neck as he waits under the cloak, thinking about the letter Madam Bones sent. He’d honestly forgotten that he’d asked the kind witch to look over the case with everything else that had happened that night. He’d almost gotten his soul sucked out twice, he was allowed to have a lapse in memory.
Merlin, he can’t believe she actually did it.
The sound of creaking wood has him scanning the hall and he catches sight of Sirius bounding towards him. His godfather doesn’t even stop to look around for him, just opens the door across from the room he’d mentioned earlier and leaves the door open long enough for Hadrian to slip through. He taps his godfather's shoulder once in and the man doesn’t even flinch, just lets the door fall shut and turns towards where he guesses Hadrian is with a beaming smile on his face.
“Okay, so,” Sirius claps, “the Floo network should still be connected to this room, and Amelia instructed us to use her private Floo so we don’t have to get caught up in the traffic of the Ministry and cause a mass panic.” Hadrian can’t help but laugh slightly at the disappointment on the other man's face.
“You ever travelled by Floo?”
Hadrian grimaced, already glaring at the glimmering green powder Sirius was holding. “A few times.”
Sirius must have heard something in his tone. “I’d offer to side Floo but that usually ends up with someone's hand through the other's stomach,” he said, as he tugged off the invisibility cloak with unnerving accuracy before guiding Hadrian in front of him to position him in the fireplace.
Hadrian didn’t answer as he scooped up some of the Floo powder. A few grains slipped through his gloved fingers and landed in the hearth, hissing as they burned. Sirius stepped forward again, folding the cloak and tucking it inside Hadrian's robe. He shifted in slight discomfort, feeling strangely warm at the action. He wrote it off on the fact he was standing in a fireplace, despite it not being lit.
“All set then.” Sirius declared, shifting from foot to foot. Hadrian attempted to give him a reassuring smile but couldn’t seem to get his mouth to move, before he threw down the fine green powder and called out.
“Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones.”
Immediately, the world started to spin uncomfortably fast, colours and shapes blurring together in a sickening blur. The whistling ringing in his ears reminds him of falling through the air with nothing to catch him, while simultaneously being trapped at the bottom of the Black Lake, all the while being spun round and round. His elbows are tucked in tightly, digging into his hips as he begins to catch glimpses of rooms beyond his reach, bracing his knees in preparation just as his feet finally hit solid ground and he goes stumbling forward.
One of his legs goes out from under him and Hadrian is left kneeling on the floor as he tries to pull himself together. A second later the Floo flares brightly behind him and Sirius takes a graceful step out, looking like he’d just stepped into another room. Prick, he thinks, ignoring the pang of fondness as his Godfather reaches out to help him to his feet, banishing the soot from the both of them.
“You alright?”
“Do we have to Floo back?”
His godfather laughs, letting go as soon as he’s sure Hadrian’s gotten his feet under him again and giving Hadrian his first look at where they’ve landed. They stood in an isolated room with a highly polished, dark wood floor. The fireplace was clearly the main focus of the room, its gilded gates set into the wall that was panelled in shiny dark wood. Directly ahead of them is a big mahogany desk that sits a plump little witch in plum robes, with greying hair and big spectacles framing her face, who hadn’t so much as glanced up at their arrival.
He glances at Sirius as the older man straightens and takes a deep breath, steeling himself before striding confidently up to the desk with Hadrian dogging his heels. “Amelia Bones is expecting me,” Sirius declares with the snobbish air of a pureblood lord. It’s a startling difference from his normally playful air and it sets Hadrian's teeth on edge in a way he’s never associated with the man.
The witch sighs and glances up unimpressed before her eyes widen in recognition, a sliver of fear making itself known. She doesn’t reply to Sirius, merely nods shakingly and rises to her feet, all but fleeing to the office door behind her.
She reappears before Hadrian can say anything, nervously running her hands over her robes. “Madam Bones will see you now. If, if I could have your wands, please.”
Hadrian tenses, but Sirius hands his second hand (illegal) wand over without complaint. The witch hurriedly drops it onto what appears to be a brass set of scales, but with only one dish. It began to vibrate and Harry watched with interest as a narrow strip of parchment came speeding out the slit in the base. The witch hurriedly snatched it up and read out, “Fifteen inches, Dragon heartstring core, been in use… 59 years?”
“Yep,” Sirius raised a brow, as if daring her to comment. Hesitantly, the witch handed the wand back and turned to Hadrian who hesitantly handed it over. He didn’t enjoy being disarmed, considering the last few times he’d been without his wand.
The witch kept one eye on Sirius as she placed his wand on the scale and Hadrian impatiently waited for the brass instrument to shoot out the piece of parchment. The witch dutifully read off the specifications of his wand before handing it back over and waving them towards the door, subtly inching away as Sirius walked past her.
He followed Sirius into the office, noticing they came in through a side door rather than the main office door. The walls were panelled in the same dark, polished wood, adorned with shelves brimming with thick, leather-bound tomes and neat rows of crystal vials labeled in impeccable handwriting. Above the shelves, plaques and certificates were prominently displayed alongside a moving photograph of a team of Aurors, their wands raised in unison.
As Sirius moved towards the oak desk desk, the teens gaze was drawn to the woman behind it, rising to her feet. Her sharp eyes looked them over with the precision of a hawk as she extended a hand to Sirius, shaking it firmly. “Lord Black.” She then turned her attention to Hadrian, her face softening slightly. Hadrian pointedly clasped his hands behind his back and nodded, a bit of tension leaving him as the woman didn’t extend her hand. “Heir Potter, it’s lovely to see you again. Please, have a seat.”
He listens silently as Sirius extends his own pleasantries, thanking Madam Bones for reaching out to him as they take their seats.
“As you know, you are being accused of twelve accounts of murder regarding muggles, aiding and abetting the Dark Lord Voldemort, the murder of Peter Pettigrew, accessory to the murder of Lord James Potter, accessory to the murder of Lady Lily Potter, nee Evans, and conspiracy against the Ministry of Magic.” Madam Bones explains, sorting through some of the papers on her desk. His stomach twists uncomfortably at how plainly she states it, and he winces as the man next to him flinches slightly at every charge listed. “However, justice demands accountability, and that means record-keeping. With no record of a trial, transfer papers, or any form of documentation regarding your detainment, your imprisonment in Azkaban was unlawful. As such, I called for an emergency trial the moment my secretary alerted me of your arrival.”
Sirius snorts, “Half of them have already deemed me guilty.” The bitter tone is impossible to miss, but Hadrian could see the fragile hope in his eyes at the chance to finally be free. For once, Hadrian desires to touch someone of his own will. Instead, he shakes off the sudden desire to reach out and turns towards the stern witch. “When will this trial take place?”
“We have about ten minutes before they expect us.”
Ten minutes! Hadrian wants to exclaim, but he keeps his mouth shut, as he turns to his godfather with slightly pleading eyes. Silver with a spark of madness that he’s grown fond of in the past week meeting his own green eyes and Sirius doesn’t break the sudden eye contact as he asks, “And if they deem me guilty?”
He knows he’s not just asking Madam Bones though, and Hadrian really hopes his thought of then I’ll break you out comes across clearly. It might be a tad awkward to have to give voice to that thought in front of the Head of Law Enforcement.
“Then I’ve done all I can for you. But if you are truly innocent Lord Black, then I don’t think you have anything to fear.”