Back to Hogwarts
Barty grinned as Nagini struck the tiny rodent, pumping it full of venom. He crouched next to the great snake, and they watched as the creature slowly bled out. When its breathing became labored, and its back right paw began to twitch, Nagini glided forward and swallowed it whole.
He slid his index finger down the back of her head as the form of the rat made its way down her body.
He had to give it to Peter Pettigrew. The man was a pied piper when it came to these tiny creatures. Instructing the beasts to march one by one to their own drawn-out deaths greatly amused Barty.
Nagini was never a more pleasant snake to be around. The great serpent seemed to understand the difference between her daily offerings and the man’s animagus form. Peter would sit in his rat form, squeaking at his minions to assist him in milking the snake in preparation for their master. Watching a rat and squirrel milk the venom from his master’s familiar was unnerving.
Barty left Nagini to her digestion and meandered down the hall, dragging his fingers across the newly repaired wallpaper, dipping his finger’s path to avoid the paintings. The magical landscapes that previously graced Crouch Manor were hung with care where they would once again be appreciated.
The old house seemed to be in better shape than on his last visit weeks prior. His ever-abiding servant, Winky, and the imperiused muggle caretaker were quite a team when it came to home repairs.
It had been a very long summer for him, what with having to follow and interrogate the unspeakable in charge of guarding his master’s shade and then dealing with the complication that arose in the form of a grizzled old auror.
He jerked his head, and the imperiused man behind him dutifully followed him into the study.
Barty had not anticipated his plans to carry out so smoothly, but he had prevailed with the help of his wonderous house elf and that idiot unspeakable. He had freed his master and gained an alias in the process.
“Who’s that?”
Barty’s blue eyes found the beady eyes of his fellow deatheater, “Peter, meet Broderick Bode. He currently plays host to our master.”
Peter’s nose twitched, “Full possession?”
“No.” Barty glared at the unspeakable, “He has some runic tattoos that prevent full possession, but it was enough to get him out of the Department. I assume you have the vessel prepared?”
Peter nodded, “It’s been soaked in the venom for a month, changed every three days as instructed.”
Barty grinned sharply, “How many soldiers did you lose to the process?”
Peter only shrugged and turned to watch Nagini slide into the room.
“Very well. Nagini, my little noodle of death, would you care to assist Peter in the ritual?”
Nagini carefully wound herself up the body of Bode and tasted the man with her tongue.
“Now, now, Nagini. You may eat him after the ritual. You do want to see your master again, don’t you?”
The snake stared at him for a moment before slithering away to a chair in the corner.
“You will let me know if there are any problems with the ritual?”
Peter nodded quickly, “Winky and I have memorized every aspect. The muggle will help with the heavy lifting.”
Barty smiled, “Yes, our Lord will enjoy his plaything when he finally gains his strength.”
The rat man twitched his nose again but didn’t respond.
“Right.” Barty turned toward the door and whispered, “Now, it’s my turn to spy on Hogwarts.”
Peter had done an impressive job the year prior, and their Lord’s shade had been intrigued by his findings. Within the year, his master would return to his full glory, and Barty would help with his ascension.
Hadrian glared at the innocent-looking black ring in front of him. The quartz gleamed in the firelight, the rune etchings dancing in time with the flames. The runes on the parchment beneath the ring encircled it as if tracing it before blooming outward, dispersing across the page only to repeat the process as if in a time loop.
Over the years, Hadrian had slowly gained control over the majority of his abilities. He could use the Emrys gift to observe the magic around him at will and could even alter that magic, feeding his own magic into others as needed. He couldn’t take away another’s magic, but seeing as his rings offered him a deep well, he found that sharing that well was a useful ability.
The Gryffindor abilities and the Lordship rings’ amplification of those abilities allowed him to avoid the stalking headmaster, and with a nudge from the Potter magics, he was also able to luck his way out of most of Brian’s little traps. He knew the headmaster was attempting to test him to see what else he had hidden away.
The Potter magic seemed only to work if he didn’t try to access them. If he actively looked for a bit of luck, it appeared to bring him trouble instead. He learned that early on when trying to prank his father.
The other magics often took a backseat for Hadrian. The Slytherin magics were second nature to him but couldn’t be used often. Lefay was useful in potions, but as he learned potions from the youngest potions master ever, he was already a prodigy. He had proved this after bestowing the Heirship to Hermione and still besting her.
The Guant ring was not imbued with family magic and was, therefore, only for protection and amplification of his own magic. The Black Heir ring and its subsequent dampening ring canceled most of his legilimency abilities. It was just too loud in the school without the dampening ring on. Not to mention the talking to he’d receive from Hermione if she thought he was using his abilities to get ahead in classes.
Then, there was the Pevrell ring. From watching his uncle Regulus, he knew that the Peverell magics were not something to take lightly— Necromancy. The thought made him shiver; whether it was fear or something else, he didn’t know. He knew what power the ring could provide him; he knew the stone housed within the simple silver band. Death had made sure he learned what abilities that stone could perform. He could see the dead; speak to them. Only, without the elder wand, his interactions with the departed would be limited. For that reason, he didn’t want to use the ring just yet.
Which brought him back around to the black quartz ring. The magic within eluded him, taunting him with the capabilities he could have — effortless wandless abilities. It seemed the ring hadn’t thought he worked hard enough to unlock it. He couldn’t yet study the Grimier grimoire to determine what would make him worthy enough to earn the magic. He had been worthy enough to take the Lordship, but the family magic was still evasive. The old man at the vault door simply smiled and tapped the grimoire when Hadrian asked why the magics evaded him. But Hadrian couldn’t read the book.
The Grimier grimoire was written in a mixture of transient runes and script he had never seen before. Trying to ask for assistance with decoding it also proved futile as the pages appeared blank to all others who viewed the book. Even trying to copy the known runes onto parchment proved futile as they didn’t produce anything remotely legible, and the runes moved across the page faster than he could copy them. No, the grimoire was waiting for him to pass a milestone of some sort before it allowed him to read its pages.
He rather hoped it wasn’t waiting until he reached his magical maturity. Seventeen seemed so far off when he wished to access the magic today.
Putting the ring back on his finger and closing the book, Hadrian stared absently down at his packed trunk, his thoughts running rampant.
He didn’t truly know what would happen this school year, what with having the tournament involved. There was a very good possibility that they were overreacting; nothing would happen, and it would be a normal school year. But Hadrian couldn’t help his gut feeling that everything was about to become more difficult. That somehow, this year would kickstart something he didn’t wish to start.
Comparing Harry’s third year to his own, he felt like there would never be a break for him, for them.
After all, Harry’s third year had been roughly parallel to Hadrian’s. They both involved Pettigrew and the shrieking shack. But Hadrian couldn’t help but feel like he had it worse. Harry’s Pettigrew wasn’t stockpiling information for his master; he was just trying to avoid being eaten by Marlene.
But the fact that Harry’s Sirius and Severus would never have their memories restored really ate at him. He had even asked Lady Magic if the same plan had been set in motion. She reluctantly told him that it had. Apparently, Walburga drank down her vial after the fifth anniversary of her husband’s death. She then went to find Dorea, and together, they set off to find Harry. Two weeks later, both had been laid to rest. Harry had been six. Lady Magic wouldn’t tell him exactly what happened to his grandmothers, only that his protections were not friendly to those who wished to steal him away.
Since Harry’s Sirius was in prison and Walburga had passed on, the memory vials sat untouched. Without their vials, Harry’s Sirius and Severus would continue to despise each other forever. It also seemed that Sirius had conveniently forgotten his hatred for Dumbledore.
He felt sorry for his alter self. Harry could have been free from his tormentors; he could have had a true family, but it appeared Fate wasn’t on his side.
Even worse was the conversation Hadrian had overheard between his father and his uncle Regulus two nights prior.
Apparently, one of the Department’s unspeakables had gone missing—the one guarding Voldemort's shade. Broderick Bode had not reported in for work, and when an Unspeakable went down to the room that housed the prior Dark Lord, he found it completely empty.
It all felt like it was mounting up to some big finale that he was sure he’d be a part of.
“Hey, pup.”
Hadrian’s head turned toward the sound of his father’s voice, “Hey.”
Sirius padded across the carpet and sat at the end of his bed, “What’s got your fur on end?”
He glared at his father, who only chuckled, “Hades, you can give me that look all you want or occlude away your thoughts, but I know you. I will always be able to tell when there is something wrong.”
Hadrian sighed and sat on his trunk, “Dad, I'm terrified of what is to come.”
His father smiled sadly, “I know, son.”
He shook his head and let all of his fears rise to the surface, "I have all these abilities, but I constantly fear they won't be enough. That my name will come out that goblet, and I won't be able to complete the tasks.”
Sirius chuckled, “And I believe you would pull through admirably.”
He found himself wringing his hands, “What if it's Neville or Draco's name that comes out? Then I will have to sit on the sidelines and hope for the best.” His voice cracked, “I wouldn’t be able to help them.”
His father reached forward and clutched his shoulder, “Your brother and cousin are tutored just as you are; while they may lack your inherited abilities, they are more than capable.”
"I'm not saying they aren't... It’s just... every summer, I watch those memories from Harry, and I think how easily that could have been me. He has Lily’s heritage... so he has many of the same abilities blocked behind bindings... I just fear one day, I'll wake up back there. Or that one of these days, Fate will stop being favorable to me.”
Sirius barked out a laugh, “If you think Fate is favorable to you, then you have inherited more Black than we know. You have power, lots of power, and with power comes responsibility; you cannot just have power and glide through life.”
“But I still feel….”
“Helpless?”
Hadrian sighed, “More like I’m floundering.”
“My boy,” he squeezed Hadrian’s shoulder, “Your family, your friends, your school…. They mean so much to you. You have so much on your shoulders that, of course, you will flounder at times. But you have the heart and the power to overcome your struggles and prevail— I know you do. Don’t think of your burdens as a weakness; think of them as your goal.”
Hadrian smiled softly, “Thanks, Dad.”
Sirius stood and pulled him into a hug, “Anytime, pup. Now off to bed. We’ve got a train to catch in the morning.”
Hadrian smiled as he stared at the scarlet steam engine before him. Everywhere he looked were friends that he had made over the years. Students from other years and houses waved and smiled at him as they boarded the train.
He decided he would take his father’s advice to heart. He wouldn’t let his mind worry over possible weaknesses; instead, he would see them as hurdles he would overcome.
“Do not associate with your sister Ronald. Do you hear me? She’s a harlot. Engaging herself with that Malfoy boy is a travesty.”
Hadrian turned to glare at the offending redhead walking behind him. Molly Weasley was bustling along the platform with Ron fuming behind her.
“Oh, and that muggleborn girl….”Molly waved in Hermione’s direction, “Tying herself to that future Deatheater… such a shame. She really isn’t the brightest…”
“Shut it,” Ron growled.
Molly Weasley spun, her mouth agape as she stared at her son, “Excuse me?”
Ron glared at the woman, “She’s my friend. She’s the smartest in our year. And Ginny can be with whoever she likes.”
“Now, see here!” Mrs. Weasley began loudly.
“No!” Ron screamed back at her, “I don’t have to listen to your prejudiced views. They’re not mine! I don’t want to be anything like you!”
With that, Ron Weasley turned and stormed away towards the train.
Mrs. Weasley’s brows furrowed, and she spun to face the older redheaded man who had been behind Ron, “Arthur! You…”
“No.” Arthur Weasley stared coldly at the woman, “You are here to see your son off to school. Nothing more. If you attempt to coerce him into anything, he knows to owl me. All of the children do.”
Mrs. Weasley glared at him for a long moment before disapparating.
Arthur sighed and looked down at Ron’s trunk, “Oh, bother.” His head shot up to scan the train for his son.
“Mr. Weasley,” Hadrian cautiously approached the man, “Do you want me to bring Ron his trunk? I have a feeling he will be in our compartment after his mother just offended one of our friends.”
Arthur stared at him for a moment, “You are Sirius Black’s boy, are you not?”
Hadrian nodded, “Sirius Hadrian Black IV, Heir to the House of Black.”
Arthur grinned, “Wonderful! I would love to speak with your father; I think the Weasley family will be looking for allies soon.”
He couldn’t help but smirk, “We are allied with the Malfoy family.”
The redhead scoffed, “I have no qualms with the family. If it weren’t for that blasted woman, we would have mended the feud decades ago.”
Hadrian nodded slowly, “Father is over with Lucius now. The Malfoy’s youngest wanted to see the steam engine.”
Arthur grinned, “Marvelous piece of equipment. Thank you, Heir Black.”
With that, the redhead was gone.
Hadrian shook his head as he levitated Ron’s trunk behind him. A few minutes later, he found their usual compartment. It was packed with their friends and already extended.
“Ron, for the last time, I do not care what your mother thinks of me!” Hermione growled.
Ron’s ears flushed red, “Sorry, Mione. Just… I didn’t want you to think I thought the same.”
Hermione’s nose scrunched, “Of course, you don’t; you aren’t an imbecile.”
Theo chuckled at Ron’s confusion, “I believe that was a compliment, Ronald.”
Hadrian shared a long glance with Neville before plopping himself down next to Daphne, “Miss me?”
She eyed him over the edge of her book, “You didn’t visit.”
He winced; she had wished for him to spend a week with her family at some point over the summer, “Father wouldn’t allow it. You saw how he was at the match.”
She lowered the book, “I barely saw you this summer, and the majority of that time was spent with your new cousin.” She sighed when she couldn’t resist his pleading eyes, “You will need to make it up to me. ”
“Honeydukes or Puddifoots?” Hadrian asked with a mischievous grin.
Daphne glared at him, “If you think I am setting foot in that pink monstrosity, you are crazier than Bella!”
He chuckled, “She’s not crazy anymore…” He paused and tilted his head, “Well, as crazy.”
Daphne arched a brow.
Twining their fingers together, he smiled, “Honeydukes it is then. Sugar quills still your favorite?”
Her expression softened, “They are.”
Hadrian shot her a tender smile and leaned his head back on the seat, Daphne laying her head on his shoulder in turn. It was going to be a long year.
“Welcome back to another wonderful year at Hogwarts. For those of you joining us for the first time, we welcome you.” Dumbledore smiled serenely at the first-year students, “Professor McGonagall, if you will?”
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat, “When I call your name, you will come up and place the sorting hat on your head….”
Hadrian sighed as he tuned out the sorting process. His hands still followed the motions of those around him, clapping when appropriate, but his attention was elsewhere.”
Ron Weasley sat at the Gryffindor table with a frown on his face. That in itself was not unusual; however, the look of undisguised worry that graced Luna’s face as she stared at the boy was startling. He didn’t know how long he watched the pair before a bony elbow found its way into his ribcage.
“Oof!” Hadrian held onto his side and glared at his cousin, “What was that for, Hermes?”
She smiled sweetly at him, “That was the last of the first years.”
Dumbledore cleared his throat, still smiling down at the students, “Finally, we have a fourth-year transfer student joining us this year. Please give monsieur Dudley Fournier from Beauxbatons a warm welcome.”
Hadrian watched as Dudley cautiously took the steps and sat on the stool.
The hat seemed to enjoy the boy’s presence as it was many minutes before it shouted, “Hufflepuff!”
“Huh. Didn’t expect that.” Neville stated calmly as he joined in with the clapping of the other Slytherins.
Hadrian nodded, “It was his mother’s idea. She feels that Brian will leave him alone if he’s in Hufflepuff.”
Hermione nodded as she scooped a helping of parsnips onto her plate, “Smart.”
The boys hummed in response as they lost interest in the announcements in favor of the dinner before them.
When the last dessert platter vanished, Dumbledore stood, “Before we make our way to our beds, I have one final announcement.” His eyes swept over the hall, “It is with great pleasure that I get to tell you all that Hogwarts has been chosen to host an event this school year.”
He paused long enough for whispers to break out across the room, “This year, we will make history with the revival of the Triwizard Tournament.”
The room exploded with noise, the loudest being the Gryffindor table. The Slytherins were the quietest, but they were not entirely silent. No, that was reserved for the Blacks.
Hadrian watched Luna and Ron, only half listening to the spelling of his doom. Ron kept furrowing his brow, glancing at the Hufflepuff table and then right at him. Only Ron’s eyes never seemed to acknowledge that he was being watched, even when their eyes met.
Twisting the ring from his finger, Hadrian was bombarded with the hectic and excited thoughts of all of those closest to him. Turning those aside, he tunneled his magic toward Ron.
Being across the room, Hadrian was unable to just slip into someone’s mind, and the thought of doing so unnerved him. However, surface thoughts that were thrown out were fair game. It was these thoughts that he latched onto.
‘Four. Why four?’
‘Red, blue, yellow and green.’
‘Black stone tower.’
‘I need to ask Charlie.’
A sharp jab broke him from his concentration, “Did you hear that?”
Hadrian glared at Hermione as he returned the dampening ring to his finger, “No. I was preoccupied.”
She returned the glare, “There is going to be a barrier preventing younger students from entering their names.”
His brows rose, and he turned to see his uncles glaring at the headmaster, “huh.”
“No one below fifth year. Only NEWT and OWL students are to participate.”
“Fifth year? Not Seventh?” That would explain the glares, then.
She scoffed, “That’s what was said. He did mention that there was much debate over implementing the limit at all. Idiots.”
Neville’s voice cut in, “At least the lot of us will be too young to participate.”
Hermione shrugged, “I suppose the mentioned auror presence is to mollify the parents.”
Hadrian shot Neville a look and shook his head, “I just have a bad feeling about all of this.” He nodded his head toward the Gryffindors, “So does Ron.”
“Oh?” Hermione asked, intrigued, “Is that why you’ve been making moon eyes at him all dinner long?”
Neville sniggered as Hadrian glared at his cousin, “I don’t like you right now.”
She smiled as she stood, “Too bad you’re stuck with me.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes and followed the crowd down to the dungeons.