Chapter Three: Snake in the Grass

Hadrian had no idea how long it took to calm himself down, only that it took him even longer to do the same with Harry. The child was hysterical, his own previous break-down having only added to the boy's distress. No amount of comfort he tried did anything to calm the wailing infant.

"It's alright Harry, don't cry. I'm so sorry, please don't cry," Hadrian apologised frantically. He felt awful for causing Harry upset, even if it had been indirectly. Going after Sirius had been foolish, he realised that now.

What would have happened if someone had recognised Harry, would they have taken the boy away from him? And even if Sirius had mistaken him for his father, he'd still called out Harry's name; it wouldn't take much for the rest of the wizards there to put two and two together. How long did he have before others would come looking for them?

They needed to get moving, but Hadrian was unwilling to do so when Harry was still in such a state. The poor boy's face was beginning to turn a worrying shade of red as he screamed his lungs out.

Feeling desperate, Hadrian closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to hum a lullaby. It was the only one he really knew; that he even remembered the tune was surprising to him, though he was sure there were words meant to accompany it that he couldn't recall.

When he was younger he had heard his aunt sing this to Dudley many times, listening-in with his ear pressed against his cupboard door. The melody had always been both hauntingly beautiful, and strangely familiar to Hadrian. He supposed it was not out of the realm of possibility that his own mother would have also sung him the lullaby, that his grandmother had done the same with Lily and Petunia when they themselves were children.

The soft, soothing song reverberated around the empty underpass, and the crying tapered off fairly quickly. Blinking open his eyes, Hadrian met the child's silent stare as Harry watched him with watery green eyes, wide in bewilderment. Hadrian used his thumb to wipe the tear tracks from the child's face as he hummed the final note of the lullaby.

"Ha'dwan," Harry said in his lilting voice, spreading his arms open in want of a hug. The use of his new name dumbfounded Hadrian, apparently the child had been paying attention to its impromptu change this morning. Gathering Harry up into his arms, he placed a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead, careful to avoid the still sore looking scar.

"I'm here Harry, I've got you. Ssshhh…" he whispered against the child's hair. Holding Harry close, his heart beating fast and his small body shaking ever so slightly, Hadrian felt a wave of protectiveness wash over him for the little boy. "I'll keep you safe, I promise!" he swore, surprising himself with the conviction in his voice, at how quickly he felt himself growing attached to Harry. Though part of him knew that just because he had been the one who had isolated himself, didn't mean he hadn't been lonely.

Regardless, the two of them were getting cold just sitting here. Huffing, Hadrian stood back up with Harry in tow, before apparating away once again. The pair landed in a secluded alleyway nearby to where they had stayed last night.

Harry let out a whine in discomfort, his face twisting with nausea, before burying it into Hadrian's shoulder. "I know. Last time for today, okay kiddo," he assured the boy, rubbing small, soothing circles on his back. After taking off the Invisibility Cloak so the two of them could be seen, and stuffing it back into his mokeskin pouch, Hadrian made his way back towards the bed and breakfast.

When he stepped inside the building, the woman was still sitting at the reception area, flipping through the guest book with a pen in hand, her brows furrowed. Looking up at him from her desk, she gave Hadrian an open, friendly smile, belied only by the intensity of her scrutinizing stare. The woman's eyes seemed to hold a sharp intelligence now that the confundus charm was no longer clouding her mind.

"Welcome back," she chirped happily. "We weren't sure if you'd be returning after you ran off in such a hurry this afternoon. But I made sure to keep the room open, just in case you did, Mr…" she trailed off, obviously waiting for him to give his name.

"Hadrian," he murmured in reply. She jotted his name down in the book, though continued to peer at him expectantly, her pen hovering above the page. "Evans..." he answered after a brief moment of hesitation, deciding to use his mother's maiden name. While Potter was a common enough surname, and the couple didn't appear to be magical, either of the two could still be a Squib or have Muggle-born family. He wasn't willing to take the risk that they might recognise the name, or distribute it to anyone that asked.

Once the woman had finished writing, she placed down the pen and gave him another of those assessing looks, side-eyeing Harry, before letting out a sigh. "And you're taking care of your little brother all by yourself?" she asked cautiously as if dreading to hear the answer.

The 'little brother' part threw him through a bit of a loop; though he knew he looked a tad too young to be Harry's father, he was actually older than either of his parents had been when they'd had the boy. But the woman's implication certainly didn't go over his head, and it instantly put him on edge. Despite himself, Hadrian immediately stiffened defensively, tightening his hold on Harry. "I don't see how that's any of your business Lady," he said coldly.

"That's what I thought," she muttered under her breath, as if he'd responded in the affirmative, confirming her suspicions. Holding out her hands as if trying to calm a spooked animal, she spoke in a clearer voice. "Now, while I usually don't like to pry into the privacy of our guests, as a mother, I can't help but worry when it comes to children." Hadrian got the impression that she was referring to not just Harry, but himself as well.

Part of Hadrian couldn't help but be frustrated by this whole situation. Of course, when he'd been with the Dursleys, no one had paid him any mind, but now that he was actively keeping little Harry out of an abusive household, people started to try and intervene! Would she call the police; he'd already had a run-in with magical law enforcement today, he did not want to have to deal with the Muggle ones too.

Coming up with an idea, Hadrian changed his demeanour. He had always considered himself to be quite the accomplished liar, a skill he'd had to learn living with the Dursleys. Though it hadn't mattered how convincing his acting had been when dealing with his Potions Professor, or Hogwarts' Headmaster, the two Legilimentes both able to sense his deceit.

Fidgeting nervously, he shifted his feet and picked at the wool of his jumper with the hand not supporting Harry. "It's just that, well…" he began slowly, pausing to nod warily as if he was trying to convince himself. "Dad's not been the same since Mum died."

Hadrian watched as the woman's face shifted from one of concern to outright pity. Harry was doing his part too, if not deliberately, looking up with sorrowful eyes at the mention of his parents. "It's not that he's a bad dad, he never hits us or anything, and he works really hard. But sometimes he comes home drunk and I just get worried, you know!" he said, letting his words come out in a frantic rush.

Honestly, he felt slightly appalled with himself, slandering his recently deceased father, and right in front of Harry too. Here he was, telling the same kind of lies that he had so often heard from Uncle Vernon. But he carried on, determined to, at the very least, guilt the woman out of taking action.

"Listen, son, if you need help-" she began, but he cut her off, shaking his head fervently and taking a step forward.

"Please, you can't tell anyone!" Hadrian begged, looking around quickly as though he was afraid someone had overheard them. "If they put us in childcare we'll be separated for sure. And it wouldn't be fair on Dad either, losing his kids, and so soon after Mum too," he whispered in a panicked tone.

The woman reached across her desk to grasp Hadrian's shoulder. "Calm down lad, there's no need to get worked up. I'm sure your father's a good man, and he'll be back to his old self in no time. We all deal with loss in our own way, as I'm sure you're figuring out now." she reassured, trying her best to soothe his seemingly frazzled nerves.

"You won't say anything then?" he questioned, gazing into her eyes with a cautiously hopeful expression. Though Hadrian had never had any talent for the Mind Arts, he'd had enough practice to be able to perform Legilimency nonverbal and wandlessly, easily skimming the surface thoughts of the unprotected mind of a Muggle.

"Not a word," she promised solemnly. To Hadrian's relief, the woman was being truthful, even willing to keep his secret from her husband.

Harry, who had been silently watching the back-and-forth of his BAFTA worthy performance, let out a tired little yawn. "Ah, looks like its past someone's bedtime," she cooed at the boy. Turning around, she grabbed a key from the rack and handed it to Hadrian. "Same room as before, just down the hall." He gave her a grateful smile and was on his way before she could even think to bring up the subject of payment.

The room had been tidied up since they'd been gone, there were fresh sheets on the bed and new towels in the bathroom. Upon noticing his red-rimmed eyes in the reflection of the mirror above the sink, Hadrian realised how obvious it must have been that he'd been crying. No wonder the woman had been so concerned, Hadrian thought, turning on the tap and splashing cold water on his face.

He then went about getting Harry ready for bed, repeating the same actions from this morning. He changed the boy's soiled nappy for a clean one, fed him another jar of baby food, this one containing mushy peas, and dressed Harry in his pale blue pyjamas, all with relatively little fuss.

While waiting for the kettle to boil, Hadrian set about emptying a load of individual milk portions from the tea tray into a mug, heating it up with his magic. Harry drunk his warm milk happily as he sipped his well-earned cup of tea. After they had finished their drinks, he placed Harry back into the travel cot, tucking the boy in. Hadrian watched over Harry as he drifted off to sleep, tightly clutching his scruffy black dog.

Stepping back and sinking to his knees, he pulled out his notebook, quill and ink pot from his pouch, placing them onto the bedside table. Opening up his notebook and flipping to an empty page, Hadrian started to write.

Forgetting about Sirius' arrest had been an oversight he was not willing to repeat, so he began the process of constructing a timeline of the events yet to happen. It would undoubtedly come in handy, help him to better plan out his actions in response to the upcoming future.

It was mainly personal events, as they were the easiest to recall, but he also wrote down any facts of news he could remember reading in the Prophet or learning from others. However, nothing stood out as immediately significant; the closest event he had written was when he'd received his Hogwarts' letter, and that was nearly ten years away!

Hadrian sighed, flipping to a new page to write a short To-Do List. In all honesty, he had never been very good at planning ahead, was always reactionary in his decision making. But he couldn't just go rushing into things and try to figure it out from there; that kind of thinking had led to Sirius' death originally and had now put them in danger of discovery. Gryffindor heroics weren't going to cut it anymore, he needed to be cunning, embrace his more Slytherin side.

Still, the first thing he wrote was obviously 'Free Sirius', but he acknowledged that as a concern for later. Of course, he wanted to apparate straight to the Borrow and catch Pettigrew. However, the rat would be on high alert for months, if not longer, and would likely flee at the first sign of trouble. So he would wait, bide his time, let Scabbers grow lax, content with his role as the Weasley family's pet, and then he would strike.

Instead, his new priority needed to be finding himself and Harry new accommodation. Staying in the same place was too risky if he wanted to avoid further detection, but moving from one hotel to another would leave behind a trail of his magical signature if he continued using spells in lieu of payment. He could always use emotional blackmail instead, and though that hadn't backfired on him tonight, there was no guarantee that the next person would believe whatever lies he decided to tell them.

Hadrian also knew that Harry would need stability in order to adjust to major change, especially after such a traumatic event. Constantly moving from place to place, and not allowing the child time to grow accustomed to his new surroundings, would thoroughly disorient him and make his transition of guardianship even harder.

So the first order of business was definitely finding more permanent placement, but somewhere they could still lay low. And for that, he'd need money, which meant a visit to Gringotts bank. Though he doubted he'd be able to gain access to any of his usual vaults.

The easy solution would be to claim himself a long-lost relative of the Potters. And though that was true in a sense - he certainly looked the part at least - the Potter line was far too well known, with all other members being deceased. He could be from an obscure and distant branch, but fabricating a false identity for himself would take time and research. Besides, he had no intention of using the Potter fortune; that money belonged to Harry, he wouldn't steal his inheritance from the child.

Hadrian couldn't use the Black account either. He'd only gained that after Sirius' death, and only because the man had named Harry Potter his heir.

So that just left the Peverell's, which he would be able to take ownership of after proving he could open the vault. Though the money inside wasn't nearly as much as was in the Potter or Black accounts, there was still enough for the two of them to build a new life, and live comfortably for the next few years.

The only issue was that he couldn't very well go waltzing into Diagon Alley carrying around the Boy-Who-Lived. If people were looking for Harry Potter, then they would definitely take a closer look at the black-haired, green-eyed little boy. No, Harry was too easily recognisable to anyone who knew what features to look for.

Hadrian could use a glamour charm to disguise Harry's appearance, he'd hardly ever left Grimmauld Place without casting the spell on himself after all. However, any competent witch or wizard would be able to tell that he was glamoured and could simply cast a revealing spell; Hadrian couldn't trust others to respect their privacy, especially with how on-edge the magical world was right now.

Which meant he'd have to find someone to babysit Harry while he went to the bank - but who? His first thought was to ask his friends, they had all made such excellent parents, and would be far better qualified to take care of the boy than him. But they were all children themselves now, barely any older than Harry, and anyone else that came to mind would report into Dumbledore if he left the boy in their care. Then he'd send Harry to the Dursley's, but under stronger wards, maybe with guards, or…

Hadrian gave another sigh, running a hand through his abused hair from where he'd been tugging at it in frustration. There was no point in worrying about that now; it was late and he was obviously overtired. His first full day since travelling through the Veil had been stressful, hopefully tomorrow would be better.

The next morning saw them up early, not by choice, but by Harry's shrieking as the boy awoke from a nightmare. Hadrian stumbled out of bed, scooping Harry up and affectionately cradling him in his arms. He also cast a silencing charm around the room, in fear of disturbing any nearby occupants still sleeping.

When his hushing and rocking didn't calm Harry down, Hadrian once again tried humming the lullaby. It worked like a charm, literally, the child falling quiet to gawk at him as he sang. Perhaps he should lead with that next time, it was extremely effective, even if Harry's silent staring was a little odd.

Still, them being awake meant that they'd be able to make it to breakfast this time. Walking into the hotel dining room after dressing in yesterday's clothes, minus their robe and coat, they were sat at a table with a highchair already pulled up beside it. The room was practically empty, only half a dozen other people occupying the rest of the tables as they ate and talked amongst themselves.

The man, who had brought him the toast and baby food before, greeted him cheerfully before taking Hadrian's order. A plate of bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and sausages, a full English fry-up, was soon placed in front of him; while Harry was given a bib to wear, and served baked beans and scrambled eggs, with a spill-proof beaker full of apple juice.

Hadrian wondered if it was normal for a B&B to have this many baby supplies on hand, or if they used to belong to the owners' children; the couple had both mentioned having kids of their own now. Perhaps they would be willing to take care of Harry while he went out.

Once he'd finished feeding the child, Hadrian tucked into his own meal with vigour, not having eaten anything since yesterday. When the man returned to clear their table, he made his move. "Uh, sir?" he called out, getting his attention before he left to take their dirty dishes to the kitchen.

"A'right son, something I can help ya with?" the man asked kindly, giving him another warm smile.

"Well, I don't want to be a bother," Hadrian begun in faux apprehension, chewing on his bottom lip before answering. "but I was wondering if you could look after Harry for a bit. I just need to pop down to the bank, it shouldn't take long." he pleaded, peering up at the man and making his eyes grow very wide.

"No trouble at all lad, me and the Mrs would be more than happy to watch the little one!" he replied jovially, ruffling Harry's already messy hair. "Cause, I'd be a bit cautious 'bout going out myself, especially after reading this morning's paper," he said seriously, eyebrows knitting together causing the wrinkles on his forehead to become more pronounced.

Hadrian blinked in genuine confusion. "Ya hadn't heard? Probably for the best - might of put you off your food otherwise." Despite his words, the man unrolled the newspaper tucked beneath his arm and showed him the front page. '12 Dead in Gas-Leak Explosion' he read, realising that this was a cover-up for the Muggles murdered during Wormtail's escape. "Makes ya worry it might be someone you know." The man winced as he reread the headline.

"I should really be going…" Hadrian muttered, awkwardly standing and shuffling away. Whether it was because Harry thought he had been forgotten, or because he somehow knew he was being deliberately left behind, the child started to panic. Thrashing about in the seat of the highchair, Harry lifted his arms up and demanded to be let out, calling out Hadrian's name and dissolving into sobs when he was ignored.

The other guests looked on at the scene with expressions ranging from sympathy to annoyance. The man tried to comfort the crying child, but he was inconsolable. Glancing back before he left the dining room, Hadrian saw Harry looking at him with, what he could only describe as, betrayal.

It took an extreme effort of will, but Hadrian did manage to walk away, though the sound of Harry's distress seemed to follow him out of the building and onto the streets. Of course, he didn't blame the boy for feeling anxious about being separated. After all, he'd lost both his parents, and now his Godfather, in the span of two days…

But Hadrian ignored his trepidation, pushing every possible horror scenario that could happen in his absence from his mind. It would be safer for Harry to not stay with him when he went to the wizarding world. Hadrian became convinced of that fact when, even on the short journey back to the alleyway, he spotted flocks of owls flying overhead and several groups of people dressed in cloaks and pointed hats.

They were huddled together and whispering to each other excitedly. Hadrian avoided them with a lowered head and quick steps. He could only assume that the word of Voldemort's defeat had finally reached the rest of the magical community, and that the owls were carrying letters to deliver the news to those who hadn't heard yet.

Once he had found a spot hidden from view, Hadrian quickly ducked into the alleyway and withdrew the Elder Wand from his holster to cast the glamour charm. He had used the spell so many times, that he was confident in his ability to disguise himself without having to check his reflection.

Swapping around his parents' features, Hadrian changed his hair to match his mother's dark red, and his eyes to be the same shade of soft hazel as his father's. He also gave himself a smattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose and cheeks. Anyone could easily mistake him for a Weasley relative, and probably wouldn't give him a second thought, they were a large family after all.

Lastly, Hadrian dressed in his Unspeakable robes and black cloak, pulling up the hood. The clothing would obviously help him blend in, but also keep his bangs from flying up in the wind, exposing the lightning bolt scar, since it was not so easily concealed with magic. Even if the mark had yet to become synonymous with the Boy-Who-Lived, it was still far too distinctive.

Final touches made, Hadrian apparated to Charing Cross Road, landing across the street for the Leaky Cauldron.