The Rest of First Year
Surprisingly, it hadn’t taken long for Hadrian to be fully integrated into the group of Slytherins that called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis, which is why it was only considered an average Tuesday morning to see Hadrian standing on the Slytherin table bench plaiting Abraxas’ hair. Thankfully the poisoning attempt had either failed or wasn’t an attempt at all, the Slytherins didn’t know which option was more reassuring. It had taken a while for the rest of the Knights to warm up to Hadrian and not just humour him to prevent Tom throwing around the crucio. But warm up to him they did, to the point where you’d be hard pressed to find Hadrian without one of the third year Slytherins standing over him protectively or little Cygnus black following him with heart eyes and a very un-pureblood like stutter. Unfortunately the bodyguards were necessary in the beginning, whenever Hadrian was outside of Hufflepuff territory he was harassed by gaggles of Gryffindor’s and clusters of Ravenclaws who mocked Haddy for his… unusual tendencies, such as his aversion towards shoes or his propensity to turn up to breakfast in his badger dressing gown (yes a dressing gown in the shape of a badger). It took three days and a group of First Year Hufflepuff girls for Tom to realise what was going on and put a swift end to it, an end that may have compromised his ‘good guy’ image but Tom knew, somehow, someway, Hadrian was worth it.
“Good morning everyone, Haddy”, Tom steps over the bench straightening out his uniform and meticulously cutting up the eggs benedict in front of him into small manageable bites.
“Good morning Tommy”, Haddy replies as he finishes the elaborate cornrows on the side of Abraxas’ head.
“Perfect, You look just like Kim Kardashian during the MTV Awards”, with that confusing statement Haddy turns his head towards Tom opening his mouth like a hungry baby bird and with a smothered sigh Tom obliges him, feeding bites of eggs to Haddy whilst turning towards his followers and enquiring how their families are (he doesn’t actually care but apparently pretending that you do causes people to like you more).
“My father was actually looking into new investment opportunities over the Yule holiday Tom, he told me to remind you that you can stay in our manor during the summer hols and that your financial advice has never steered him wrong.”
Tom turns from the peculiarly endearing sight of Hadrian humming that cherry chapstick song again and kicking his feet, looking towards Corvus Lestrange. It took half a second to realise that the Lestrange patriarchs offer of sanctuary was dependent upon Tom giving sound investment counsel. Tom bit down his smirk at the knowledge that these all powerful purebloods bow down to the knowledge of a Third Year of dubious ancestry, he nods towards Lestrange in acceptance of the offer.
“What does your father do Haddy”, Cygnus eagerly asks leaning towards Hadrian from his seat opposite.
‘Hmm, interesting’, Tom thinks to himself, pondering on how the small crush Black had had on the First Year at the beginning of their acquaintance had steadily grown into something more over the months. Yet the knowledge of this exploitable weakness does not fill Tom with the same satisfaction as usual, in fact, Tom would say he is extremely dissatisfied with this turn of events, until he figures out why, he should proceed with caution, there is no use in upsetting one of his pawns without articulable reason. Even still he sends a subtle glare towards the younger Black quickly causing the boy to sit back and adopt the disinterested air Slytherin families perfect at a young age.
“Oh, my Daddy’s a part-time Health inspector”
The Slytherins look towards each other sharing confused looks that conveyed their mutual lack of understanding but none of them wanted to be seen as the stupid one by asking Haddy what he meant. As usual, Walburga Black could be counted on to act like a tactless idiot.
“What on earth is a Health Inspector?”
Hadrian turned towards the interrupting Fourth Year, “A Health Inspector is someone who goes into restaurants and makes sure everything’s up to scratch, like ensuring they leave enough food around for the local wildlife and that the water is sourced ecologically”. When that explanation didn’t satisfy the confused Knights Haddy elaborated.
“Daddy once went to a restaurant and found that not only they weren’t using recycled toilet water to cook with, but they had also left out horrible, tortuous traps for the poor rats and cockroaches, so of course the first thing Daddy does is close them down, telling them that they MUST have a vermin infestation within the week or the closure would be permanent!”
Haddy’s face pulled into a frown, obviously reminiscing about those unfortunate critters his Daddy helped save.
The Third Years swapped even more confused looks and as with most conversations they have with Hadrian, wondered whether the boy was speaking the truth or having a mental break.
“But your fathers a Peverell, why would he be employed in such a useless, unsophisticated field?”
Again, trust Walburga to be unable to shut her trap for one moment and not insult the Lord of one of the most ancient and powerful wizarding families. If Orion wasn’t trained so well he would have facepalmed at his betrotheds idiotic remark, instead he subtly kicked her under the table glaring at her in warning.
“Oh Daddy’s not a Peverell”
That got the tables attention, all conversation halted and it felt like suddenly all eyes were on the tiny Hufflepuff that might just have infiltrated Slytherins closed ranks without having any actual link to the powerful pureblood family.
“Haddy, can you tell us what you mean by that?” Tom questions, he cannot let the gamble he took on the powerful psychotic eleven-year-old be a waste, it would destroy his standing and reputation in his House if the boy turned out to just be a mentally deranged mudblood. ‘Even then’ Tom thinks, just a whisper of a thought really, to dangerous to be allowed to recognise consciously, ‘even then I’d choose him’.
Haddy sends a beaming smile out towards the now menacing looking Slytherins.
“My Daddy’s not a Peverell, he’s Death!”
The students at the table collectively let out a breath
“I think someone told you the Tale of the Three Brothers too often when you were a child, understandable seeing as that’s your family history.” Abraxas comments condescendingly flipping his hair, making the cornrows fly everywhere and hit Lestrange in the face.
Haddy frowns to himself muttering something about his Daddy eating everyone else’s daddies souls for breakfast. With that scare over with and everyone else resuming their breakfasts Tom allows the anxiety that had infused his body when Hadrian had been scrutinised slowly dissipate, going back to eating his own breakfast intermittently holding up his fork for Hadrian to take a bite.
It was one week before the summer holidays, Haddy had spent most of the year surrounded by the Slytherin Knights but when not with them he loved to spend time with his three Hufflepuff girlfriends, the only other Hufflepuffs in their year group. Their names were Madeline Vance, Abigail Clarke and Patricia Fawcett, at the beginning of the year they called themselves the EE’s, Haddy, Maddy, Abby and Paddy until Haddy learnt that Patricia was 1/8th Irish on her mother’s side and decided that calling her that was culturally insensitive. When not with the EE’s Haddy could be relied upon to be following or being followed by Tom, which is how Haddy came to learn about the secret Knights meetings that occurred every Thursday night, it didn’t take long to gain an invitation to this exclusive group. To be fair to Tom, it was either invite Haddy to join the group or rock up to the Come and Go room on meeting nights to find the whole room decorated in pink and wizarding portraits of kittens that refuse to shut-up. Really inviting an eleven-year-old to midnight meetings where torture and mind control is not only encouraged but actively practised, was less morally reprehensible than the crimes that Tom would have committed if he was forced to hear one more Meow in that accursed room.
Thus, the Thursday before the end of the school year it wasn’t a surprise to see a small crowd of Third and Second Year Slytherins exit the common room on their way to Knights of Walpurgis meeting. As usual they were headed by their leader, a black cloaked mama duck leading a procession of similarly garbed ducklings. What had likewise stopped being a surprise was the sight of a tiny figure looking more like a duckling than any of the others in their fluffy yellow onesie, skipping towards the imposing group, a smile on their face and a biscuit tin in their hands. Oh no.
“Hiya guys, I brought cupcakes”
Now it should be known that despite multiple attempted interventions, where the older Slytherins and the other EE’s banded together to get Haddy help, the baking situation has not improved since the Pie-foy incident of 1940. They had gone so far as to stupefy and imperio a muggle pastry chef into teaching Haddy not even how to bake well, just how to not unintentionally poison his baked goods. Unfortunately, that just helped Haddy learn how to intentionally poison his baked goods. ‘Just don’t eat it then’ some uninformed, non-Knights might say, counter argument, Tom Riddle. No matter how dubiously created the food is, if Haddy has made it, Tom will make his knights eat it, the silver lining of this being that his Knights have become very proficient at brewing antidotes.
Pulling the lid of the tin Haddy presents his wares towards the cringing Slytherins proudly proclaiming them to be Red Velvet, smiling guilelessly at his friends. What Haddy didn’t know (thankfully) was that every morning the Slytherins gather in Tom’s dorm room where the budding Dark Lord then oversees the drawing of lots, the two who pull the shortest straws are the ones who must eat any ‘sweet treat’ that Haddy may have made that day.
“Older Black, Avery, you’re up.” Tom orders, the two third years audible gulp before reaching shaking fingers towards the Tin of Horrors™.
“Braxy too, I made them for him special!” Haddy exclaims looking under and around the group trying to find the now cowering, sweating blonde.
Malfoy, you’re up” Tom orders glaring towards the blonde who was now mumbling “Me? Again, why is it always me?”
Abraxas walks to the front of the group to join his fellow soon-to-be-victims. He reaches out, picking up one of the innocent, tasty looking confectionaries and after looking towards Black and Avery for courage, he and the other poor unfortunate souls take a bite.
*cough* “Haddy!” *cough*
“Why does it taste metallic?”
“augh, quick, someone please hand me a bezoar!”
Whilst the three Slytherins faces turned various colours of the rainbow, Tom looks to a satisfied but slightly confused looking Haddy, Tom was disappointed, his Knights usually had better poker faces than this.
“And what ‘extra treat’ did you include this time Haddy”
“I went totally by the recipe Tommy, one cup of flour, two of sugar, a quarter cup of butter. Oh! I did also add about three cups of cow liver.”
With a shudder the three Third Years at the front start hacking tears running down their faces.
“WHY HADDY WHY?” Abraxas screams, no doubt notifying whichever member of staff on duty that students were out of bed.
Tom sends a silencio towards Abraxas, grabbing the upper arms of the two other gagging tasters, motioning his head towards the other Slytherins encouraging them to walk swiftly towards the Come and Go room before they all got caught. Haddy skips in front of them as usual.
“Why did you include liver in your cupcakes Haddy?” Tom inquires of the First Year.
Haddy turns towards him now skipping backwards, “have you seen Braxy?” Haddy gestures towards the staggering blonde, “skin that pale cannot be natural, I’m just trying to help with his obvious anaemia.”
Overhearing this Abraxas straightens to his full height of 5’10, towering over Haddy by at least a foot. Tom summons Malfoys wand before he could pull it on the still smiling Hufflepuff, a good idea going by the absolutely furious expression on the Third Years face.
“I’m not anaemic you imbecile, I’m French!”
With that the blonde storms of in front of the group leaving Haddy to walk next to Tom, taking his hand and looking up at Tom beguilingly.
“A little Iron never killed nobody.”
Tom felt more exhausted arriving at the Come and Go room than he did waking at one in the morning to conduct this meeting.
“Partner up, Malfoy with Orion, Avery and Cygnus, Lestrange you’re with Haddy. Today we’re working on the Cruciatus Curse, those of you in Third Year have already received basic tutoring by me, thus those of you with partners in younger years will primarily be helping them to learn the curse. Any questions?”
With that Tom turns away allowing the partners some time to go over theory and mentally prepare themselves for the pain that even an incorrect and underpowered Cruciatus would cause.
“Don’t worry I’ll go easy on you”, before Tom can even turn around to berate Lestrange for attempting a crucio on Haddy so early on he hears,
“Crucio”
But it’s not the cracking, pubescent voice of Corvus Lestrange, it the soft dulcet tones of the resident Hufflepuff and then he hears screaming. A high-pitched wail that conveyed the extreme amount of agony Lestrange must be under to screech so loudly. After five seconds Haddy ends the expertly executed torture spell with a proud but shy smile turning towards Tom as if seeking validation for his exemplary skills in inflicting pain. Tom was just about to utter the well-deserved praise when he sees Lestrange rising from the ground a murderous expression on his face as he aims a crucio at Haddy’s back. Tom raises his own wand in response the killing curse at the tip of his tongue, never before has one of his followers deserved death more, sending an overpowered crucio towards an unsuspecting First Year, Tom’s First Year. Lestrange is a dead man. Or he would have been if Tom hadn’t been distracted by the sound of giggles, giggles coming from a still standing, still smiling Haddy Peverell.
“Ahaha, it tickles, hahaha”
The giggles turned into chuckles which turned into full belly laughs as a now baffled Lestrange kept up the curse.
“Get out the way Corvus you’re obviously doing it wrong!”
Before Tom could stop him, Abraxas shoved Lestrange out the way and had his wand pointing at Haddy, obviously summoning up the anger still simmering from the Red Velvet incident, Malfoy fires a crucio at a still giggling Haddy.
“Haha, stop, stop, I’m gonna pee myself!”
After seeing the failure of his two most vicious Knights, Tom holds up a hand to stop Malfoy, before gingerly talking out his own wand, never before has he least wanted to cast a crucio but this anomaly has to be investigated, how brilliant would it be for future Dark Lord Tom to have a warrior on the front lines that could withstand the worst torture in Wizarding history.
Taking a step in front of Haddy, he waits for the boy to calm down, widening his eyes and tilting his head slightly, non-verbally questioning whether Haddy is okay with what is about to happen. With a nod and a soft smile from his Hufflepuff, Tom casts the curse.
“Oh”
The reaction from Haddy was so different from the last two crucio’s that Tom almost stopped it then and there before he realised that Haddy wasn’t exclaiming in pain, in fact it didn’t look like he was in any pain at all, no screaming, no crying just wide eyes and a small intake of breath.
“Can you describe to me what your feeling Haddy?” Tom questions, keeping up the curse as his Knights gather round in awe.
“Heat” Haddy replies distractedly.
“It feels… spicy, almost like taking a bath in a Chicken Balti, its warm and it tingles, like when someone hugs you so hard their nails dig into your skin.”
Haddy face was twisted in an expression of bliss, ‘An aggressive hug’ Tom thought, ‘that’s what my crucio feels like to him’ and like most aggressive things, Haddy loves it. As the curse goes on, Tom thinks back on his first impression of the little First Year, finally accepting the truth his subconscious had realised on first sight. This boy, this boy who tortures, who baffles, who can not only withstand Tom’s crucio but enjoy it. This boy is perfect.
“Promise you’ll write Tommy”, Haddy implores as he hugs the fourteen-year-old round his waist. All around him Hogwarts students are doing the same thing to their friends, the train has arrived at King’s Cross, Summer has officially started and Haddy refuses to let him go.
“Haddy, I have promised you a thousand times, I will read your letters, I will reply to them and then I will see you on the 1st of September on this very platform and sit with you on the train going back to Hogwarts, this goodbye is only temporary!”
With that final reassurance Haddy sniffles, pulling away and staring into Tom’s eyes as if judging his trustworthiness,
“Alright”, he acquiesces finally, leaning up and pulling Tom down to brush the softest of kisses against Tom’s cheek, leaving the older boy reeling, drowning in emotions he has never felt before, nor has a name for. Tom attempts to get his emotions under control, only succeeding when he can no longer feel the boys body heat against his skin. Looking around Tom attempts to locate Haddy for one last goodbye before summer, he finds him by the arches his tiny body enfolded in a billowing black cloak, the owner of which stands at a tall height, long almost skeletal fingers caressing Haddy’s hair. Haddy looks up at the man, finding his face under the overhanging hood the man wears, from this distance Tom cannot hear Haddy’s voice, he does however see ecstatic smile Haddy aims at the man, his lips stretching to form the word ‘Daddy’.
‘Ah so that is the elusive Lord Peverell’ Tom thinks as the man takes Haddy’s hand. Just before the pair apparate out of existence, Tom catches the almost glowing emerald eyes of who Tom must admit is his favourite person, and mouths the word ‘goodbye’, thinking to himself how lonely the world suddenly feels without Haddy there.
“Are you coming Tom?” Lestrange shouts from near the entrance to Platform 9 ¾ receiving a swift clip to the ear for his unseemly behaviour from Lord Lestrange. Shaking his head and admonishing himself for that brief bout of sentimentality, Tom gathers his things and strides towards his accommodation for the holidays, he allows one more moment of weakness, one moment to reassure himself, ‘Just six weeks, six weeks and I can see my Haddy again’.