Chapter Three

Hadrian could hear the Potters and Dumbledore following him as he made his way down the corridor, trailing on his heels with uncertainty slowing their steps. After his little performance he hardly blamed them for keeping their distance. He hadn't quite intended to resort to childish insults, but when his faux parents brought up love and family, well, they were practically begging for his scornful words. If they so happened to be true – Petunia had been quite the ranter, with a few glasses of wine to loosen her tongue – then who was he to protect mother dear from it? Lily had just looked so hopeful; it had been a pleasure to tear it to shreds.

The entertainment they were providing had turned out to be much more potent than he'd expected. Imagine that; little Hadrian Avaric was the twin brother to the famous Boy-Who-Lived! Such a fanciful tale James had told in that cold tone, with heroes and villains in a mighty battle of Light and Dark, set against each other in a Fate-devised conflict finally settled by a baby, innocent of innocents, icon of the Light and saviour of the wizarding world! Oh, it was enough to bring a tear to the eye!

He'd known the wand-users were prone to this sort of dramatics, but such a narrow-minded, clear-cut view of events was surely not accepted by the entire community? Ah, but this was the group that so decisively defined magic as either Light or Dark, so perhaps this was expected of them. He could only imagine how they would react to his exploits – the trio who'd come to collect him obviously had very minimal knowledge, likely believing the lie that he'd been an unwilling assistant who was brainwashed. Only Leon had an idea of the true extent of his…depravity.

Did they think they could fix him, like a broken toy destroyed by a petulant child, needing only a smidgen of tender loving care to turn him into a rosy-cheeked rascal? They must know of his exploits within the institute at least, or rather the few he could be connected to. Surely that would disillusion even the most hopeful of optimists? He hadn't made any effort to hide his nature during their conversation in the cell, in fact the rather put-upon hostility had only painted him in a worse light, so what drove them to sustain their offer? As much as he watched and learnt about people, they still managed to confuse him with their absurdities. But he guessed that's what kept them interesting.

The decision to agree with their whimsical offer was a rather impulsive one in itself. He wasn't interested in learning their wand-magic, not when his own perfectly suited his purposes, and the backwards wizarding world hardly appealed to him. He longed for parents no more than he longed for a bath in concentrated sulphuric acid – which he could contest was incredibly unpleasant, judging by the screams – and the Potters presentation of a loving home was a feeble bribe at best, an obnoxious deterrent at worst.

It was the idea of Hogwarts that had managed to catch his interest. Not the establishment itself, but the brewing mass of conflict that would inevitably poison its grounds. A war, a war that hadn't ended yet. Of course he'd noticed the masked look of Dumbledore's face when James proclaimed their ferocious Dark Lord defeated – defeated, not dead – and the faint anticipatory fear on the Potters. Hadrian was so familiar with fear that it wasn't hard to distinguish from other types, and as the painter of such emotions their weavings in the worn features of his dear parents were as clear as day. So yes, one day their Voldemort would make his return, and where would he strike first? What place in the British wizarding community held the greatest prestige and significance, housed and moulded the generations of witches and wizards, the soldiers of the next war?

Anyone could see that Dumbledore held a massive tactical advantage in any long-term war between him and Voldemort. Voldemort had to replenish his forces after all, and with Hogwarts being the only British school of magic it was his main source of wand-users. Granted, Hadrian was simply assuming this based on the fact that the British wizarding population was quite low, as well as due to Dumbledore's level of magical power; Hadrian doubted he would take charge of any school other than the best. He hadn't even known Hogwarts was a school, simply taking an educated guess from what the trio of wand-users had told him combined with the little Leon had mentioned. The guess of Hogwarts' importance was based on how wizards operated as a whole; they placed extreme emphasis on children, especially purebloods who rarely had more than two children at the most, and depended on them to pass on their traditions and bloodlines. A school, where so many of these children congregated for the majority of the year, held a great deal of significance.

But he digressed. The point was that when Voldemort inevitably returned he would have at least two main targets; Hogwarts, and the boy who had defeated him - who just happened to be at Hogwarts. Oh, he could just imagine the tensions between potential followers of the Light and those of the Dark, threads bared to snap as war closed around them and Voldemort tied his noose around their families' necks, follower or enemy both. And he could be there; a front row seat to the social turmoil as friend turned against friend, families were ripped apart and people scrabbled for the power to defend themselves and the ones they cared for. How could an ordinary, muggle juvenile centre possible compare to that?

However, it would not do to underestimate the wand-users. Limited though they were, he acknowledged that they could overpower him if the situation was in their favour, and, as indicated by Dumbledore earlier, his usual forms of amusement certainly wouldn't be tolerated at their child-friendly school. Rather than discourage him he was eager for the challenge; how to have fun without getting caught? It was a query he would find great enjoyment in solving, even if the idea of suppressing his violent tendencies hardly agreed with him. A test of his skill then, his endurance and ingenuity; figure out ways to entertain himself without resorting to the straightforward tactic of murder and torture. He grinned. They couldn't blame him for a little psychological warfare, could they? And surely these Dark wand-users had some interesting forms of entertainment.

So he would be on his best behaviour, at least whilst he was in sight. He'd have to test the Potters a bit, see how much they could be manipulated even after such a first impression. Perhaps show a hint of vulnerability, of a scared child lashing out at the world? Or maybe just ignore and belittle whilst remaining within the limits of a traumatised hellion. They could hardly do much to a twelve-year-old, as evidenced by his now previous lodgings, and no matter how angry he made them the thought that he was 'just a child' would always remain in their minds.

Would they use their magic to 'help' him? It was a risk he would have to be aware of, defences up at all time in preparation of such an attack. He knew of certain mind magics that could be used to alter memory, even erasing it altogether, but none that could modify personality in any substantial and long-lasting way. His own magic offered a basic immunity – or rather, a vehement defence – but he would have to research it if he got the chance. A magical school needed magical supplies, correct? So before the school year started the Potters would take him to somewhere that sold such wares, since he would have to get a wand in order to do wand-user magics, and he'd been lead to believe that wands were highly specific to their users. Perhaps that would also give him the opportunity to find some entertainment.

The door at the end of the corridor was opened by a wary Ben, who watched Hadrian with suspicious eyes narrowed into slits. The guard's obvious reluctance was reflected in every movement of tense muscles and the gritting of his teeth, incredulous glances sent to the other three adults when he noticed the missing handcuffs. Hadrian taunted him with a slanted grin and mocking bow of his head. "It's been a pleasure."

Ben glared even as fear leaked into his expression at having the focus of the young boy directly solely at him. Steeling himself, he turned to the following trio. "I sure hope you know what you're gettin' yourselves into. This kid, he ain't- he ain't normal, don't think that for even a second. People are gonna get hurt if you take him out of here."

Hadrian paused and looked over his shoulder, curious about how they would answer. Surely such a blatant show of the guard's foreboding wouldn't be brushed off so easily?

But there was a strange determination on the faces of his parents, whilst Dumbledore gave a tight smile. "Thank you for your concern, but we're quite sure we can take good care of Mr. Avaric." Hadrian didn't bother to stifle the bark of mirth that escaped him as he shook his head and continued towards the exit without another glance to the wand-users drifting in his wake. It looked like his 'fixer-upper' theory wasn't too far off the mark, even with his efforts of discouragement. Stubborn, these wand-users were. But no man could battle forever, and he eagerly anticipated the moment he would capitalise on their weakness.

The route wasn't one he was familiar with, as he and the other boys were brought in through a less public area, where there wasn't any chance of one getting free and attacking some poor bystander. In his earlier days he had taken to wandering the winding corridors of the institute, memorising its labyrinth as only the minotaur could, and so it wasn't difficult to simply walk where he had been barred from before. Where the doors were once locked and guarded, the men now moved aside, however begrudgingly. The presence of James Potter at his shoulder likely convinced them that he was under their control, and as much as he inevitably rebelled against the notion it was one he would have to put up with. Let them believe they held the key to his cage. He would only enjoy the day all the more when they realised no such confinement existed, the bars broken and contorted.

He was at the bottom of the stairs before any of the wand-users deigned to speak to him. "Har-Hadrian," James made a move to grab his shoulder but he twisted out of the way fluidly, turning to face the man with an eyebrow quirked. The black-haired man attempted to emulate some form of parental concern as he continued awkwardly, "We need to talk about your…behaviour. I know you haven't been taught any better, but you have to understand that we won't tolerate violence of any sort. If you plan to act like that, then, you'll be punished."

"How exactly do you plan to punish me, dear father?" Hadrian asked idly, unimpressed by the attempt at intimidation, dull as it was. "Lock me in my room? I'm afraid I'm quite used to that. Take away my toys? Unfortunately non-existent. Send me to bed without dinner? Starvation is something I'm rather familiar with. Maybe physical punishment?" He scrutinised James with a scornful eye, spying the show of aversion to such a suggestion. A crooked smile spread across his face, acrid in its falsity. "Don't worry yourselves so; I'll behave."

James blinked, surprised. "You will?"

His voice held a hint of sickening sweetness to it, barbed wire smothered in honey. "Of course. Such dissident actions wouldn't be tolerated at Hogwarts, would they Headmaster?" he flicked his gaze to Dumbledore, the old man watching him with careful eyes. There was something almost reminiscent in those sharp blue eyes, a wary assessment smothered by a grandfatherly twinkle.

"That's right, Harry," Dumbledore said almost happily. "I'm glad you're willing to…compromise with us, and I hope that one day you will feel no desire to hurt others. I believe that time amongst other children your age will help you in this, and learning magic will certainly keep you occupied."

Hadrian gave a smile that bared too many teeth. "I'm sure you're right." With that he spun on his heel and continued on towards the reception, restraining the urge to unleash his magic on the hapless wand-users. Oh, how he longed to shred their mortal casings and tear at their magic, to tug and pull and shatter their power until they lay weeping in desolate agony, broken in body and mind. The condescension aggravated him far more than any order, and it was only his recently formed resolution that kept him from giving into such violent desires. He enjoyed causing pain – it was more than a mere chore to him – enjoyed the art of finding which strings to play to make their screams just so, the macabre orchestra that he controlled with practised intimacy. To abstain when the temptation rose in such strength was not something he enjoyed, but he did have self-control, thank you very much. He would simply have to find some other revenue to express himself.

The receptionist looked up from her computer when they walked in, and the expression of shock that morphed rapidly into fear cheered Hadrian up significantly. Poor woman never suspected he'd be allowed into an area where the nice, normal people frequented; no, she much preferred a cage of more than mere circumstance.

He took smooth, purposeful steps towards her desk, body tilted in such a way that it turned his stride into a predator's as he stalked towards the receptionist. She shot up from her seat in a frantic scramble, shrieking, "What is he doing in here?!"

Hadrian's lips hooked up into a wide, hungry grin. "Why, I'm here for you, of course." Her face faded rapidly to a chalky white, and he barked a laugh at the irrational panic morphing pretty features into the animalistic terror of a prey that knows what it is only too well. He wasn't even trying – a grown woman was this scared of him by reputation alone! Lamenting the pathetic state of the vast majority of those who barely earned the designation of Homo sapiens was a rather common past time of his, but it was times like this that he held an appreciation for the softening of his species. Such blundering reactions rarely failed to amuse him.

"Calm down, my dear," Dumbledore soothed, standing a little in front of Hadrian as if to shield the receptionist. "Hadrian was only joking. You know how boys are at his age," he chuckled genially.

The receptionist was taken in by the kind surety of his words, and slowly edged back into her chair as her face regained some of its colour. Hadrian momentarily scowled at Dumbledore for ruining his entertainment, before pasting a beaming smile on his face. "That's right; it was only a joke. If I was serious, well," he leaned forwards, narrowing his eyes into a piercing glare that had the receptionist shaking even as he continued to smile cheerfully, lowering his voice into a purr. "That would be a different matter entirely."

"Hadrian, let's go," Lily said stiffly, urging him towards the doors. His smile dropped and he turned to her, giving the redhead a blank stare that had her shifting nervously. He knew what it looked like, having practised it for the express purpose of inducing this level of anxiety-driven intimidation. It was a fine art, after all, and a skilled artist knew every aspect of his chosen trade. A stare that conveyed an utter lack of anything living, emotion drained and covered until all that remained was an unthinking monster – he'd found that worked rather well on those most driven by their feelings. Lily's uneasiness merely provided a wider sampling for this theory.

Then his lips twitched up into the cruel lop-sided grin he so favoured, and he allowed his entourage to surround him once more. "Coming, mother." She flinched, and his smile widened just slightly.

. . .

Sorry for the short chapter, but I've hit a bit of a writer's block and I want to at least update what I have done. This chapter gives a bit of insight into Hadrian's motivations for doing what he does, convoluted as they may sound. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and please leave a review on the way out; I always enjoy hearing what you think, and if you have any questions I'll do my best to answer them.

Quick question for all reviewers: in terms of the Light vs Dark war, which side do you think Hadrian should support, if he supports one at all? If it's the Light this doesn't necessitate the need for Hadrian to 'go good ' and redeem himself, and if Dark he won't be just some fanatically loyal follower of Voldemort.

Any ideas for pairings are also welcome; romance really isn't my forte, and if I do write one with Hadrian that relationship is hardly going to be a healthy one. I don't mind either het or slash, but since I've never properly written either I've no idea how it'd go, though it would probably be pretty slow since the vast majority of fast/love-at-first-sight romances are never believable to me (more like lust at first sight) with a few rare exceptions or one-sidedness.

Anyway, thanks for reading!