broken crown

“Are you alright?”

Harry startled and turned to look at his interlocutor. He had to suppress a flinch when he was confronted with familiar grey eyes.

"I'm fine," he said, swallowing roughly. "I just had a…"

He trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. The teenager in front of him raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"... a panic attack," the teenager completed with a deadpan expression. "That doesn't seem fine to me."

Harry -Hadrian, dammit- thought about denying it, but his trembling fingers, red-rimmed eyes and shaky breath probably wouldn't convince this boy, who looked so much like Sirius it was painful. Save for the wavy auburn hair that curled a bit around his ears and the mole behind his right eye, he was the exact replica of his godfather. Hadrian tried not to think about why that was.

The wizard out of time wiped his hands before holding one out for a handshake, trying to ignore the fine tremor coursing through his fingers. As he looked down, he noted the blue and bronze of the other's tie.

"Hadrian Pierce," he said, silently begging the boy to drop it.

"You're new at Hogwarts, aren't you," observed the teenager with a quirk to his lip that revealed a sharp canine, as if his show of manners was more of an indication that he was out of place than the grey of his tie, "Orion Black."

Hadrian sucked in a breath at having his suspicions confirmed -Sirius, his Sirius had a son, possibly several children- but managed a tremulous smile.

"Well, it was nice to meet you, Orion Black. I'll see you around, yeah?"

And he promptly made his escape.

He came back to the compartment truly rattled, but better than he'd left it. The trio was concerned about his abrupt departure, and despite the fact that he'd taken the time to tidy himself up, they were clearly observant enough to notice something was up. They were tactful not to mention it though -even if Ron did have to be elbowed in the ribs to stop from opening his mouth.

"Do you know an Orion Black?" he found the courage to ask after a few minutes.

Neville shifted, looking uncomfortable.

"He's a fifth year, in Ravenclaw. He was blood-adopted by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin."
"Is that common knowledge?"

"It's pretty well-known because he's the heir to the House of Black and everyone pays attention to that family," added Ron with a wrinkled nose, "but also because his attendance at Hogwarts was the subject of a bit of a scandal, you see."

Hadrian frowned.

"Why?"

"Because he's the first known werewolf to attend Hogwarts," answered Hermione. "Well, there have been others before him, he's just the first everyone knows about."

She paused before looking disgruntled in a way she only did when thinking about the bigotry of wizarding society.

"We've never spoken to him personally. He's pretty reserved, he's had a rough go of it."

Hadrian thought about the carefully controlled expression on the boy's face, his quiet surprise when he'd held out his hand and the stiff way he held himself, so different from his godfather's -the boy's father- languid posture in the pictures of his youth. And yet he'd asked after his well being without a second thought. Hadrian smiled softly. This Remus and Sirius had raised a good kid.

He thanked the trio for the information and briefly explained having met the boy in the bathroom before changing subjects. The rest of the trip went smoothly, and Hadrian separated from Neville, Ron and Hermione to join the first years on the boats. They waved at him goodbye and he returned their wishes for luck with a smile and a nod. He was alone on his boat, which was an unexpected blessing. He was glad to have some time to collect himself.

While crossing the Lake, he admired the silhouette of a Hogwarts that hadn't been defaced by war in silence, keeping a white-knuckled grip on his wand.

Once they were inside, the first years followed professor McGonagall in a perfect row, like a long line of ducklings. Hadrian wondered if they'd looked like this all those years ago. The Transfiguration professor took him aside and told him he would be Sorted last. He nodded stiffly, avoiding eye contact. He wondered if the deputy headmistress of his world had survived the Battle.

"You're tall for a first year," observed a tiny girl while they were waiting to be Sorted.

Hadrian offered her a smile and she blushed, ducking under his gaze.

"That's because I'm not. I was home-schooled before. I'll be a fourth year student."

This earned him some wide-eyed looks, but the Sorting started before they could ask any more questions. Hadrian clapped dutifully for the first years, waiting for his turn. The Sorting Hat song wasn't any different than he remembered, he noted as he let his gaze wander. The students weren't much different either, though their gazes weren't haunted by the shadows of a civil war. A few of them he didn't recognize, but he chalked it up to it being a different world.

On the teachers' table though, a red-haired woman seated next to a familiar black-clad man had him choking in surprise. He quickly recovered before the two could notice him looking, but the sight of his Potions professor conversing amiably with the woman who should have been his mother had him troubled and elated at the same time. He was glad that the two had reconnected in this world, though he would have to get used to seeing his not-mother in the castle. As he couldn't find professor Vector anywhere, Hadrian guessed Lily Potter was the current arithmancy professor. He didn't know if he regretted not taking this subject.

Barty Crouch Jr was here too, sipping at his flask with a scowl and staring at the students with a paranoid roll of his magical eye. It made Hadrian wonder. Could he afford to blow the man's cover? Probably not. It might put other students in danger and make him seem suspicious to the adults.

Unwillingly, his eyes trailed to the Hufflepuff table, where the first casualty of his world's war was clapping with a grin to welcome a new Hufflepuff first year. He would find an opportunity, he promised himself. This time the death eater wouldn't last the year.

"Hadrian Pierce," called out professor McGonagall.

Murmurs broke out as he stepped out, looking much older than his fellow Sorted students. Professor Dumbledore stood up and demanded silence with a raise of a hand. The man sure knew how to control a crowd.

"Let us welcome our new fourth-year student, Hadrian Pierce, by letting him experience the age-old Hogwarts tradition of the Sorting like any other student would," he said, inviting Hadrian to sit with a gesture.

Ignoring the curious gazes and speculations aimed at him, he sat on the stool. This was nothing compared to the looks he'd had to bear as the Boy-Who-Lived. Professor MacGonagall dropped the Hat on his head, which fit him much better than it did the last time he wore it.

"Your occlumency defenses are really something, young man," commented the Sorting Hat.

"Ah, I wouldn't know about that. They were done by a family friend," he said, grimacing as he thought of how just it was to refer to Death as such. Perhaps he could get away with saying the being was the "conveniently unnamed family friend" who'd raised him? He'd have to find it an alias, but still.

Reading about occlumency in the limbo library -he must have spent months in there, considering how many books he'd had the time to read- had really helped him understand the unhelpful directions Snape had given him in fifth year. From what he understood, what Death had done to safeguard his mind wasn't something that could be done by a human consciousness. It was likely to scare the life out of anyone trying to force their way in without his consent, and would still be pretty disorienting for anyone he actually allowed in. A bit like what it felt to face Death and look at its smile, supposed Hadrian.

"Fascinating. I've seen many minds, but I will admit this is a first. You have lived an eventful life, mister Potter. Or is it Pierce now? Both are true in the end." The Sorting Hat paused. "My goal is to Sort you, mister Pierce, but I find myself at a loss. I am used to the minds of children, but here I see into that of a man, tired and weary. I am not sure where to put you."

"Didn't you Sort Merlin as an adult?"

The wizard didn't bother to ask if the enchanted object would reveal his secrets. He trusted the hat not to tell, as ridiculous as it sounded. The Sorting Hat chuckled. Hadrian wondered if it had a name. The laughter stopped abruptly.

"I haven't been asked for my name in a long time."

"What is it?"

"Alistair," it said softly. "Godric named me Alistair. And to answer your question, I did. It has been a while since I was asked to do such a thing, though. I suppose I should appreciate the challenge if nothing else. Let's see… you were a Gryffindor, with traits from all other Houses at a young age, though my counterpart noted a strong Slytherin tendency. However, you lacked ambition and you still do now. No, Slytherin would not suit you… and I believe you are too weary for the energy of Gryffindor."

Hadrian wanted to protest, but he couldn't find it in himself to disagree. Thinking about the rowdiness of the common room made him cringe, and he was self-aware enough to know that seeing his ghosts all the time would wear on him.

"Ravenclaw would suit the new you, considering the veritable well of knowledge you have accumulated but… I see a core of pure loyalty in you, mister Pierce, and more kindness than this world of yours probably deserved. Yes, I believe it is the right choice, it better be… HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Thank you, Alistair," murmured Hadrian before stepping off the stool.
"It was a pleasure, young man."

The wizard handed the Hat to professor McGonagall and headed to the badgers' tables, sitting in the empty space left by Justin Finch-Fletchley and Susan Bones. He offered them a grateful smile and a polite reply to their introductions before focusing on professor Dumbledore's speech. He tried to ignore the complicated feelings he held for the old man, tried to find the fondness he used to feel for those post-Sorting announcements. Instead he only awakened the dull ache of not only grieving the man but the image he'd had of him before learning he'd raised him to be sacrificed.

He sighed and half-heartedly picked a few things out of the display that appeared at the end of the headmaster's speech. He wasn't hungry but he liked the idea of drawing attention to himself even less than forcing himself to eat.

When he was done, he stood up. He didn’t know what he wanted to do, maybe just step away from the crowd or something. Before he could figure out a destination however, someone rose up to join him.

“Hi, Hadrian, right? Nice to meet you, I’m Cedric Diggory. I’m one of the Hufflepuff prefects. I wanted to welcome you into our House, and to tell you not to hesitate if you have any questions,” said the sixth-year with a broad grin, holding out a hand.

Hadrian took the hand he was offered mechanically.

“A pleasure,” he murmured, trying not to stare. He cleared his throat before the other student could figure out anything was wrong. “I’ll be sure to ask, if I do need anything.”

“Great!” Another grin, and the boy released his hand. “So you were homeschooled before or are you a transfer? I’d guess homeschooling considering the accent but I don’t want to assume.”

“Er, no, you guessed right.”
“I can imagine the adjustment must be weird to you but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll make friends in no time! We badgers stick together,” he said with a wink.

Hadrian shrugged.

“No, really, everyone is really friendly, you’ll see.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, really. I’m not shy or anything. I even made friends in Gryffindor, actually, I was going to say hello to them,” he said a little helplessly. “See you in the common room?”

Cedric blinked.

“Oh well, alright. Talk to you later.”

And for the second time today -or was it third?-, Hadrian escaped from confrontation. He hadn’t planned to talk to the trio again, but he supposed it was as good an excuse as any. Hadrian made his way to the Gryffindor table, where Ron smiled at him around a piece of chicken before making space for him to sit.

“So a badger, huh?” he asked after swallowing.

“Congratulations,” added Hermione.

Hadrian thanked her politely and they made small talk about Hogwarts’ best features. Ron argued vehemently about the food, Hermione about the library and Neville quietly sang the praises of the greenhouses.

“I liked the Lake,” said Hadrian when he was asked what he thought.

“Oh yes, crossing the Lake was amazing. I remember in first year-”

Hermione started a tangent about what she remembered of their first night at Hogwarts, which Hadrian was surprised to hear had been spent the three of them together. It seemed that Neville had managed to reconcile Hermione and Ron’s strong personalities in the train, when they had gone together to find his toad. Speaking of strong personalities, the two hot-headed Gryffindors had already started an argument, though Hadrian was incapable of pinpointing how it started.

He and Neville exchanged a wry smile.

“Before you ask,” said this world’s Boy-Who-Lived, “yes, they are always like that.”

Hadrian chuckled before he could help himself, turning the two bickering friends’ attention back to them. Neville seemed weirdly pleased at himself, and the wizard out of time sent him a puzzled look as the conversation steered back to calmer waters. Neville only smiled mysteriously and made a joking retort to something Ron had said.

Hadrian watched quietly, a wistful smile on his lips. It felt like being back home.

Two hours later, as he lied awake on his bed in the Hufflepuff dorms, unable to find sleep, he pressed a finger to the sunstone pendent around his neck and murmured a quiet thank you to Death before picking up a book, resigned to read the night away.