Chapter Text
It was eerily still in his head. All Henry could see through the fog was shards of comforting black laced with ribbons of gold. After taking a fortifying breath, he resumed the strenuous task of trying to hold his pure magic shield against Hadrian’s continuous attacks. Moving with the light, sure-footed grace of a wolf, nimble and fast, Hadrian flicked his wand with the ease and expertise earned from years of rigorous training.
That, however, did not mean that Henry intended to accept defeat. He could barely feel his fingertips from the strain of gripping his wand tight. His muscles ached with the exertion of four hours of Duelling. If it were anyone else, he would have put an end to the challenge but it was his brother and Hadrian would never go easy on him—not that he wanted him to.
Hadrian was a skilled and fearless Duellist who tackled whatever spell the opponent threw his way with unwavering determination and grit. He epitomized the only code every Potter and Black admired: Never give up, never surrender. He reminded Henry of a sleeping snake waiting to strike.
Hadrian smiled. “Are you alright? I admit I am very impressed.”
He scoffed. “Says the one who’s been throwing Dark Curses created by Lord Altair Black the First at me all morning.”
“But you are holding your own,” Hadrian smirked. “I believe that short of a Killing Curse, you have nothing to worry about. Your Occlumency Shields are impenetrable for Voldemort or his ilk to get inside your head. As for the Killing Curse—” He stopped abruptly and looked down.
Both brothers sobered at the reminder of that fateful night thirteen years ago. Henry’s lips pinched together. “I’m not afraid. I don’t care what awaits us tomorrow. I want it to end. Thirteen years is a very long time to exact one’s revenge. I want our family’s life back”
“Grandfather would’ve wanted you to be safe above all else,” Hadrian gave him a rueful smile.
“He would’ve preferred a fighter to a coward to call a grandson.” Something inside his chest snapped into place. Resolution. A single-minded determination to find Voldemort, strike him back with all the rage he’d been harbouring for years. His course was very clear. He’d made up his mind and there was no turning back.
He felt the weight of the Ressurection Stone on his finger and exhaled. His veins were brimming with Death Magic it was a struggle to control the potency of his offensive spells.
His gaze went inadvertently to his wand and he frowned as he studied his faithful companion. His pulse spiked and his heart took a sudden lurch against his ribs. It couldn’t be. The wand chose the wizard and his Holly and Phoenix Feather wand had chosen him, right? Why did the link they forged four years ago feel weaker? It was an odd, jarring sensation that made his heart quiver with icy fear. He could not lose his wand. His stomach turned and bile rose in the back of his throat at the thought of what he had to do if worse came to worst. Every instinct in his body rejected the idea of a broken bond. Even the Great Merlin needed his Staff to channel his magic. How was he supposed to fight without a wand?
He shook his head vigorously. He was certainly imagining things. Who could blame him considering everything he went through the past week? Time was so tight and he didn’t need something else to worry about. He was…
“Henry?” Hadrian grasped hold of his shoulder. “What’s wrong? Your face has gone pale all of a sudden. Did I go too hard on you? I apologize. I know you are still adjusting to the Peverell Family Magic.”
“My wand has been acting up,” Henry confessed with a spur of irrational anger. ‘’It started the day we went to Gringotts. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”
For a nerve-wracking moment, Hadrian seemed to be fighting to control his shock. He'd known him long enough but he’d seldom expressed such reaction. “Your wand?” His gaze dropped instantly to his wand hand.
“Do you think it has something with the Peverell Lordship?”
“I don’t know much about Wandlore but…” Hadrian said in a calm voice. “Hollywood symbolizes strength and resilience, even in the harshest of winters. That wand has certainly served you faithfully for four years. I can understand why a Potter would be picked by Holly. But you are not only a Potter, now.” Henry shivered as he heard a satisfied hum in his head. “You’ve crossed an important threshold and you need something else for the remainder of your journey.”
“Something that symbolizes Death. The beginning and the end….” His mouth went dry as words flew out of his lips. “Elderwood….”
Hadrian nodded grimly. “You need the wand that no one should look for. The Elder Wand .”
His head snapped up. “But….”
“We happen to know who’d been using it for decades.” Hadrian gave him an uncertain look, trying to gauge his reaction. When he remained still, he added. “It was never been his to begin with. The Elder Wand is temperamental, vicious and picky. No one can win its loyalty. You are Lord Peverell. Its allegiance is yours.”
Henry sighed then squared his shoulders and met his brother’s gaze, steel to steel. “Then, I have to get back what’s rightfully mine. I can’t fight Voldemort without a wand.”
Hadrian pushed all other thoughts from his mind, refusing to think about the restless magic building and burning inside him like a volcano ready to explode, as he made his way back to the Dungeons.
He was so deep in thought he barely noticed the other Aura in the deserted corridor. Hidden in the shadows, Heir Theo Nott let the Obscure Charm down and gave him a nod.
Hadrian arched a questioning brow up. “That’s quite a useful charm, Theo.”
Crossing his arms, Theo eyed him blankly. “Blacks are not the only ones who dabbled in Dark and Obscure Magic. House Nott has its own little black book.”
“Duly noted,” he smirked. “That being said, I believe you have a more important reason for seeking me than showing off.”
“I don’t show off,” Theo’s lips pursed so tightly. “Knowledge is power. It would be foolish to flaunt my power carelessly.”
“Wiser words were never said,” Hadrian nodded. “I can see now why the Hat put you in the snake pit. This is where you belong.”
Theo shrugged. “It’s where I belong. You’re right, Heir Potter-Black. I was looking for you.”
He looked at the younger boy and his lips twitched with an encouraging smile, a hint of expectation came into his gaze as he spoke. “Have you considered my offer? I talked to Sirius and he agreed to support you until you came of age. You know you will be safe with him as your Magical Guardian. Your father will have no power over you unless he wants to start a Blood Feud with House Black. I, for one, believe that Theodorus Nott is not that foolish.”
Theo gave him a lingering look. “Notts pay their debts. My bastard of a father might have besmirched the family’s name for years. He bent the knee to a monster but I’m not my father. I intend to restore my family’s name as soon as I take my seats in the Wizengamot. In three years.”
“So you are willing to take my offer?” Hadrian said very slowly.
Theo had impressed him over the years. Despite the abuse, he persevered. At times, he sensed the strain in his magic. It was suffering. But he always picked himself up and refused to give up. It was obvious that the Selwyn blood ran thick in his veins for his maternal ancestors were renowned for their resilience and talent in politics. It was no wonder that their Motto was: The Devil Took Care of His Own. It didn’t take a genius to understand that Theo’s only loyalty was to himself. He could never fully become part of a team or give his trust willingly. He was betrayed by those who should’ve protected him and it left a lasting mark in his soul. Like him, the younger boy had known loss and tasted grief. Unlike him, he had no one to turn to.
Hadrian could read most people. After all, he was taught by the great Arcturus Sirius Black and even though Theo seemed like an impenetrable hole of blackness, he didn’t need to wonder why he had agreed to fight by his side and accept his proposition. It wasn’t a death wish or a complicated plan to go out in a blaze of glory. He wanted the same thing he spent thirteen years thirsting for. Revenge.
“I accept Lord Black’s generous offer. I would be honoured to have him as my Magical Guardian for three years. No matter how much people fear your family, no one can question a Black’s honour.”
Hadrian folded his arms over his chest. “I’ll let Sirius know. You can undergo the ritual as soon as the year ends. I trust you are fully aware of the consequences of your choice. Not that Sirius or I would ever betray you.”
For a moment there was only silence. “I can imagine worse fates than swearing Vassalage to House Black. I’ve been your ally for two years so not much will change. You are too honourable to force your will on me.”
“We’ll protect you with everything we have,” Hadrian vowed. “You’ll be safe with us. We’ll support you in restoring House Nott and House Selwyn’s names.”
“I know.” Theo’s voice came out strangled as if he was fighting a tight ball of emotion. “But before we come to that, my father and the other sycophants he calls friends have to die.”
Hadrian’s mind started spinning in a thousand different directions. Straightening, he met Theo’s cold gaze. He was wrong, the boy was indeed ruthless. With the morals of a snake. More likely, to cut his enemy’s throat than give him a second chance.
“You don’t want them to pay for their misdeeds?” He shrugged as if the answer wasn’t important to him.
“Nothing can wash their shame but death,” Theo observed coldly. “I lost faith in our esteemed Ministry years ago. A system that turns a blind eye to abuse is dead to me.”
It was the first time Theo had admitted to being abused, the first crack in his stony facade. Hadrian’s fist clenched. He wanted to apparate to Nott Manor and torture Theodorus for days. He was aware of how much the admission had cost Theo. He was furious with the way his father had treated him for years—at first patronizing and then lashing out in anger. Theo had shown him everything he had to offer, tried his best to please him and it still wasn't enough. Theodorus had no place in this world. Not in Theo’s life, not in his heart.
He also knew that Theo didn’t want his pity or his ire. He wanted his support and his guidance. He needed a family.
“Very well, we’ll deal with Theodorus accordingly,” he promised.
Theo’s answer was a firm nod. “Then you should get ready for tomorrow. Voldemort has put his plan in motion. My personal elf has been spying for me. Somehow, they managed to get into the maze unnoticed. They tampered with the wards and…. with the trophy. They want Henry. Alone.”
Hadrian exhaled, keeping a tight rein on his anger. “They will get what they want,” he sneered. “But according to my family’s terms. No one touches my brother. Ever.”
Relaxing slightly under Hadrian’s soothing hand, Daphne sighed. He omitted to tell her about his plans for tomorrow but she knew that something big was going to take place. Something that would end all his worries and bitterness. There was no other option. She believed in him as much as she believed in herself.
He brushed his fingers down her unbound her and pressed his lips to her forehead before he reached out for her hand. Daphne shivered as his piercing, emerald gaze danced over her. “I missed you.”
She was sure something in his face twinkled, his eyes, his smile, something.
“You are only a few days away from graduation,” she whispered touching his chest.
His smile warmed her. He glanced up at the starry sky and shook his head. “And do you know what’s next?”
She tilted her head to the side. “The vacation?”
He lifted an amused brow. “Our future. I’ll send a Betrothal Contract to Lord Greengrass as soon as I graduate. You are mine, Daphne. And I am yours, if you want to have me, that is,” he smirked.
Daphne’s icy-blue, tear-filled eyes locked on his, dominating her pale face. For a moment, time seemed to stop. They stared at each other, something big and powerful passing between them. An emotion so foreign and welcome. She didn't even know how to describe it, except that it filled her chest with a hot ball of longing and excitement.
She wanted to throw decorum and caution to the wind and let out a happy screech, but she did the second best. Heedless of anything around them, or the blood and death that awaited him tomorrow, she catapulted herself into his arms. She was deeply conscious of him, of his broad shoulders and powerful arms. Of his spicy, masculine scent.
Her heart slammed against her ribs, and something shifted inside her. Something warm and powerful. Holding him tight in her arms, she murmured. “I love you, Hadrian Potter-Black. Please, come back to me.”
He dropped his head. Her breath caught in anticipation. The naughty smile returned to his face. "I'm afraid I have every intention of spending a long, eventful life with you, Heiress Greengrass." He leaned closer to her, pressing his mouth on her jaw, on her neck. Right by her ear. "I love you, too.”
Releasing her hand, he captured her lips with his and sighed into her mouth when her arms finally circled his shoulders. Relief rushed through her.
Sweet Salazar, she loved kissing him. He took his time to savour and explore. She couldn't get enough of him, gorging on the simple pleasure of kissing him that she'd been denied for days.
When he pulled away, breaking the kiss, her gasp of displeasure made him smile. “We’ll have plenty of that this summer, my love. I promise.”
“I expect nothing less, Heir Potter-Black,” she replied smoothly, and his grin widened.
“By the way, I believe I found a way to save Astoria,” he breathed softly. “It’s good to be surrounded by powerful and knowledgeable people, like Grandfather Arcturus would say.”
Emotion tightened her chest. It was the most poignant moment of her life. She hadn't known she could ever feel this happy, this close to someone. This complete.
His hand lifted to her face, and he brushed away a stray tear with his thumb. More happy tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, tears she had no control over. Not anymore.
“Thank you….”
Her chest burned with tenderness when his lips grazed her cheek ever so lovingly. “You have nothing to thank me for. Astoria is family, it’s my duty and privilege to protect her. Just one day...”
“Just one day,” she repeated.
And then we’ll have a lifetime together… she reminded herself.