"Do you know what a betrothal contract is?"

"Yes, of course." Hadrian frowned, "When two families see the benefit of joining, they use their children to make the connection. Usually as children. I imagine Draco will have a contract written up soon, to ensure he has a wife your husband approves of. Perhaps one of the Greengrass children. Though I don't see the relevance of this discussion."

His aunt smiled. From the side pocket of her robes, she removed a folded piece of paper. Brows furrowed, Harry reached for the paper and opened it to read. It was a betrothal contract between himself and Voldemort. HE WAS ENGAGED TO HIS LORD. Suddenly the importance placed on his education seemed to make sense, it was a requirement. He asked when he was supposed to be married, but there wasn't a set time. He was to get married when the requirements were met, so he could very well be 30 before he gets married. Well, he didn't plan to, he'd never embarrass his lord like that. And he was doing well, practically halfway through the second year curriculum by the time he was 10. He'd be more than ready to marry by the time he reached legal age.

But did he want to marry the Dark Lord? He'd met him once, but he was someone Harry had come to respect because of more than just fear. He was aiming to be impressive, he wanted the approval of the man because he was working to protect him. But marriage? That was a side of commitment Harry hadn't thought he'd need to consider. Would they have a marriage like his parents? They worked well together, were similar enough to not argue so badly, and they fell for each other. It wasn't a burden for his parents to be together, so he was half-expecting siblings one of these years. Or would they have a marriage like the Malfoys? Loveless with a single child because they couldn't bare touching each other. He would end up like Narcissa, burdened by a husband she doesn't love, prevented from loving anyone else, and losing all her freedom because her husband was a controlling prick. And it didn't help that the Dark Lord wasn't exactly a looker, not so much hope for wanting to procreate there.

"Do I have a say in this at all, or has it been firmly chosen for me?"

Her eyes said it all, there was no choice in this one. "It's why your mother wants you doing something creative, like painting or music. Keeps your mind off things, should things not be as you hoped. I find listening to the piano is lovely."

It was too much, realising his life was planned out and everything up til now was also to shape him onto that path. Who could he have been if he wasn't raised as an overlord's wife? He wanted to sleep and pretend for a little while that he had a choice. That he wasn't marrying a man old enough to be his father, at least. So Narcissa let him go, and he cowered in his room from the future he didn't choose. He'd act like he was supposed to in the morning, with dignity in the face of pain to make everyone proud, he just needed one night to mourn a love-filled relationship he'd never experience. He curled Serpens around his neck and curled into a ball, chasing a restless sleep.

But before he truly reached that peace, the snake around his neck began to hiss. It prompted Hadrian to bolt up in bed, seeing a shadow glide from the window to his bed. It was a woman, or so he thought with just gentle moonlight shining in his room, and she had her hands open in a surrender gesture.

"Harry, is that you?" She whispered, reaching out to him. "You have to come with me, I need to take you somewhere safe."

Hadrian frowned, "I may be 10 years old, but I'm not stupid. I don't know you, like hell I'm going anywhere you want me to."

She stepped into the light, showing a motherly smile and a bush of bright orange hair. She wore a strange patchwork apron, where she pulled a wand from her pocket and whispered more urgently that they needed to leave before anyone realised the raid was a distraction so she could save him. But he didn't need saving, he was fine here with his family, regardless of his marital problems. She was a stranger in his home, that made her a threat.

"Serpens, distract her while I get my wand." This was why he kept it in his drawer.

He launched himself from Harry's neck and Harry dived off his bed to his drawers. She screamed as he reached the handle, feeling for his holly wand in the dark and trying not to panic at the thud. His fingers curled over the wand as he whipped around and narrowly avoided whatever spell she'd thrown at him. He'd admit he didn't have much in his arsenal or defensive spells, having not had much of a tutor, but he'd studied one spell out the books that could help.

"Petrificus Totalus."

For the first time using the spell, he did well. Her arms snapped to sides and she almost seemed frozen to the world. As her shadowy form collapsed, Narcissa burst through the bedroom door looking panicked. Her eyes fell to the stunned woman while Harry tried to tell her the raid was just a distraction, but the woman seemed to wrapped in her own thought process to be too concerned by his information. Finally, some focus came back to her eyes, and she turned to her nephew.

"I want you to go to the study on the third floor, there are no windows. And lock the door with the key, its on a hook to the side. Do not open it for anyone, and hide under the desk. Someone will come to get you when I'm sure there's no one else in the grounds."

The halls to the study were empty, but his nerves were shot by the attack in his bedroom. The key was where Narcissa warned it would be, and Hadrian followed her orders exactly. He didn't know how long he was to stay under the desk, but he felt like it might be all night. Until the door opened, and Hadrian had to suppress his urge to make a noise.

"You may rise from under the desk, young Hadrian. It is only your lord."

Relief burst through Hadrian like a tsunami as he sprang from his uncomfortable position under the desk. His smile was genuine as he greeted the Dark Lord, fighting his instinct to speak until he was spoken to. In moments like this, marrying the monster of a man in front of him didn't sound like such a bad idea. An unbelievable idea, but not necessarily bad.

"I hope Narcissa fulfilled her role of unveiling the nature of our relationship? In the future at least."

"Of course, my lord. She showed me the contract," he blushed, feeling suddenly shy. "I hope I don't bring shame to such an honourable position."

"Is that your true opinion?" He scowled, "I've had a good fight, this is the best time to share your thoughts with me."

The river of words came out, almost like he was spelled, to please his future husband. "It was a shock. I knew I'd be part of your ranks, like my parents. I didn't even see marrying you as an option. At first, it wasn't a welcome thought because I knew this one thing controlled my life. My studies, my isolation, it's so I'm primed to be loyal and faithful to you. And it was terrifying, thinking I could be as unhappy and repressed as my aunt. She holds onto to Draco as her only child because she can't bring herself to touch Lucius. I don't blame her, with the number of affairs he's had. And I'm not sure if I could hold your attention and stop that happening to me. And, if you'll forgive me for saying, you're not...traditionally handsome."

The last comment was the worst, and Hadrian readied himself for a curse with his eyes closed. When he waited five minutes and felt no pain, he opened his eyes. The Dark Lord was just staring at him, a calculating look in his blood-red eyes. He was analysing Hadrian. It wasn't a comfortable feeling.

"I won't be returning for a while. Your progress can be relaid to me in letters," his lord frowned. "We will not meet for a long time, perhaps when you're old enough to have a better understanding. And when you can fully appreciate what I have to show you."

"Yes, my lord." And before he could stop himself, "Serpens, the snake you gifted me, is he okay? He defended me."

"No, the woman killed him. The mess is cleaned, return to your room."

Tears came to his eyes, but he refused to shed them in front of his superior. The man's hairless brow raised, so Hadrian explained they'd become close. The snake was the closest thing to a friend he had, including his cousin, and now he was facing everything alone. It was something to adjust to. The Dark Lord approached, and with pale deadly fingers, wiped a stray tear from his cheek. He didn't realise he'd let it slip. He glanced up to his lord, eyes shining with his tears.

He parted his lips to apologise for his lack of composure, but they were covered by the lips of his lord. He hadn't even noticed the man had lips! But they were pressed against his, feeling soft and pleasantly warm. He'd have thought a man who looked so much like a snake would be more cold-blooded. It was a nice feeling. But then the feeling was gone, and his lord swept away from the room. Perhaps his lookers weren't such a rough point to handle if he could still make his cheeks warm like that.