Days had passed into weeks, with Hadrian continuing to take his detentions with Professor Slughorn instead of Dumbledore until now. The old wizard had actively been avoiding him, both in class and out of class. It was odd, he had to admit, he was just so used to Dumbledore's suspicious gaze following him everywhere, well, him and Tom actually. It had been that way since the first moment he woke up back in time. Now though he had obviously regained his scattered bearings and was now deciding he would take his detentions. Or rather detention, since it was his last one, then it was the holidays, Hogsmeade trip was tomorrow, which he actually found himself looking forward to more than usual.
Hadrian wandered up to the Transfiguration classroom door he knocked and waited.
"Come in!" called the voice that Hadrian once upon a time would have done absolutely anything for.
"Professor," Hadrian said nodding curtly, walking over to the desk that Dumbledore silently gestured towards, as he approached it he found parchment and ink already on it, waiting for him. Sliding into the desk, he removed his bag and slid it at the back of his chair; it looked as though he wouldn't need his own supplies. There was nothing on the parchment to indicate what lines he was to write. "What am I to do?" Hadrian eventually enquired when it was obvious the wizard wasn't about to tell him. He kept his anger at the old fool carefully hidden, as he always did.
"I must not disrespect my teachers," Albus informed him, blue eyes sharp and penetrating as they gazed into green before moving off, he couldn't hear a single errant thought, he had protections on his mind. Something he had figured out a while ago, but still hoped to get a glimpse of why the boy was here, what his plans were.
Hadrian barely withheld the snort, respect him? When he constantly read peoples minds? Treated the ones he didn't trust with distain? Like they didn't matter? It wasn't just him and Tom either, he treated all the Slytherins the same, and it was as if he had something against them, like he hadn't grown up past the house rivalry once he left Hogwarts. If he'd ever wondered why most (most not all) Death Eaters were Slytherins well…seeing this he no longer had to wonder. What lasting impact had that distrust had on every single one of them?
He said none of the thoughts on his mind, it was best not to rock the boat, plus he couldn't be blamed for losing his cool when he'd heard about what Dumbledore had done after he'd been attacked. He'd always been quick to anger during his later teenage years, some would call it 'teenage rebellion' or 'immaturity' but the truth was, it was years upon years of pent up frustration just coming out of him continuously. Being blamed for things not his doing, for having relatives that hated him, being kept in the dark, then the manipulation and blatant prejudice with him, bring put before the Wizengamot for underage magic! It had been nothing but a showcase of power between Fudge and Dumbledore added with all the expectations that had been heaped upon him for years. Damn right he had exploded, especially when his so called friends had sided with Dumbledore during the summer before his fifth year. He'd stupidly thought once he made his feelings clear they wouldn't do it again, boy was he wrong, they'd stuck to him to the end and after doing what he told them - to kill him and kill him they did, well mostly, since he had died technically before facing Death once more, who gave him the greatest gift. A chance at new normal life, well as normal as his life could ever get at any rate.
"Mr. Peverell I would like if you didn't destroy the schools equipment," Albus admonished his student, having seen the quill snap in half in his grip.
Dumbledore's words snapped Hadrian out of his thoughts; he realized belatedly that he hadn't even begun writing a single word. How long had passed since he sat there lost in his own mind? Shaking off any remnant thoughts of his old life, he flicked his wand out of his holster and fixed the quill refraining from looking up at Dumbledore in a way that said 'are you satisfied' instead he dipped the newly repaired quill in ink and began to write, the quicker he was out of this room the better, he felt tense just being around Dumbledore on his own.
Hadrian wrote 'I must not disrespect my teachers' time and time again, focusing completely on his task, refusing to allow himself to dwell on his past, which had soured his mood more than just knowing he had detention with Dumbledore tonight. Damn Dumbledore and the bloody memories he evoked just by being there. It was ironic that Tom didn't have that affect on him, not anymore, and he wondered why? Even before he became attracted to him it had been that way, maybe it was because he'd quickly stopped seeing 'Voldemort' or the destruction he could still potentially do. He just saw a smart, dedicated, determined boy that didn't want to return to a war infested world filled with Muggles that didn't understand him.
As the seconds ticked away into minutes, perhaps even an hour by now, and Hadrian was surprised by the silence. He'd suspected Dumbledore would ask questions, even threaten him in some very subtle way that couldn't get him into trouble if he told anyone. Dumbledore was very good at that, so yes, he did feel a smidgen of surprise. It just went to show that he didn't know Dumbledore as well as he liked, perhaps he wasn't like his older self right now in all ways - not completely at any rate.
Flipping the paper over, he began the long task of writing yet more lines, he didn't even pause when his wrist and hand began to cramp. He just wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible. Although the more he wrote the more cramped it became - to the extent that he literally couldn't write anymore. The quill fell from his limp fingers as Hadrian began to flex, massage and work the soreness from his hand.
"Mr. Peverell, have you considered doing a family tree spell to figure out who your parents are? I know the spell that will reveal six generations if you would like to try it?" Dumbledore asked, his tone soothing, blue eyes glimmering, surely that would get his attention and then he would be able to find out more about the boys family. He often wondered if he was even from the real (original) Peverell family branch and that it was merely a coincidence and that a Muggle family had come along with the name. Tom and the others would definitely abandon him quickly if they realized he wasn't a pureblood. He was one hundred percent positive that this boy wasn't part of the main branch, not only had he done his research as a young teen he had been very thorough when he came across the boy. Without friends whatever his plan was…perhaps it would not come to head, he suspected still that Gellert had sent him, but to what he had no idea, bring him down? Because Gellert felt betrayed that he hadn't followed him down the path of madness? He would never allow that to happen, he had spent too long building himself up.
"I already know," Hadrian stated calmly without looking up, well evidently he'd been right; his earlier surprise was for naught. Although he didn't idly wonder why he was offering that, he was up to something, but Hadrian honestly didn't care, it wasn't as if he'd find out he was from the future, not even the goblins realized, whatever his powers were…as Master of Death, that gave him the ability to jump in time…was astonishingly amazing and he was able to change his blood, his name, his life. Absolutely everything was covered, magic covering his tracks or something. It never failed to awe him when he actually allowed himself to think about it.
"You've already done the spell?" Albus enquired, allowing some of how impressed he was to bleed through, if only to try and put the boy at ease enough to talk more.
"No," Hadrian shook his head as he continued writing, not playing into the old mans games, he'd done for years but he had no need to do it now.
"Then how did you figure it out?" Albus continued to dig, quickly becoming exasperated with the teen and his short responds.
"Gringotts," Hadrian replied sighing in relief as the edge of the paper came into view, as he hastily wrote the sentence again officially taking up all room on both sides. Glancing at the time, for the first time that night he realized two hours had passed.
"I'm sorry, Gringotts?" Albus couldn't quite hide his surprise from his voice, but thankfully he didn't think the teen had picked up on it.
Hadrian had picked up on it, "I'm done professor," he stated, rolling the parchment up once he was sure the ink had dried up. Standing from his seat he passed over the lines, knowing they were going to probably just put in the bin.
"When did you go to Gringotts?" Albus pushed for answers as he took the parchment and placed it on his desk he had no use for it but answers? Answers he wanted - definitely.
"Does this have something to do with school?" Hadrian asked finally staring at Dumbledore, blue clashed into green.
"No," Albus blinked and answered honestly.
"Then I have no reason to answer what I do in my own free time," Hadrian said, getting a great amount of delight in denying Dumbledore his answers, watching greedily as his eyes darkened, oh this was his favourite past time, making Dumbledore's true colours come to light in any form. With that battle won, he turned and swiftly left the room in a manner that would have made even Severus Snape proud.
Hadrian - 3 Dumbledore - 0 and yes he was counting.
All things considered he was still lucky that he hadn't received more detentions from Dumbledore himself. Professor Slughorn wasn't exactly a disciplinarian; he'd done homework or cut up potion ingredients during his detentions with him. Stretching his shoulders and neck languidly, he made his way through the hall, down the set of stairs and rounded the entrance hall and down to the dungeons, absently waving to the people he passed who said hello or waved themselves.
He'd gotten used to it, people actually interacting with him because they wanted to, because they liked him, actually liked him for himself not some disgusting hero worship because of what happened when he was a baby. Scoffing at his maudlin thoughts, he whispered the password to get into Slytherin common room, and stepped in with a grateful sigh. His workload was immense, he was taking a lot of classes, and none that doubled up though, thankfully, somehow he doubted the Ministry in this time would give a teenager a time-turner for such a frivolous reason as taking extra classes. Things were much more strict, and he would bet his arm and leg Dumbledore had probably pulled favours to ensure Granger had that time-turner, keeping her complacent, making her revere him all the more.
He noticed there were only a few people in the common room, three groups of what he was sure were first years (four students in three different groups) at each corner probably doing homework. Slumping down next to the fireplace, muffling a tired yawn, he had all his homework done, so he could at least relax a little, who would have thought so many classes would be a bit much for him? He'd been through so much shit already, part of him even wondered if it wasn't the classes or workload, but everything he knew that could be coming. The chamber, Grindelwald, just everything really. Of course, he had started his training again, but he'd had no choice but to find an empty room within these dungeons. He just needed solitude, somewhere he could practice safely and he'd found that. Always making sure to use five harmless spells on his wand afterwards lest anyone be tempted to use the Priori Incantatem spell for whatever reason. Of course, what Hadrian failed to realise was his new body wasn't used to what his old self was.
It was a very good thing he'd taken up training again.
Hadrian leaned back against his allotted chair, closing his eyes taking a few moments to rest. He was very tempted to just head to bed, he had done some training earlier before his detention, which probably helped his anger in all honesty, prevented him from snapping at the old wizard - saying things he truly wouldn't take back. Minutes or hours could have passed when Hadrian jumped when he heard people screaming something about Hadrian and a snake.
Blearily opening his eyes, his head jerking to the side where the snake was, it finally sinking in what they were screaming in terror over. "Stop!" Hadrian commanded in Parseltongue just as the snake's fangs were inches from his leg, he could feel it even through his clothes, and it was that close to him. He let out a shaky breath when it listened to him. His gaze snapped briefly to the door of the common room only to see someone sliding out, but the back of a uniform was all he saw - he wasn't sure who it as. "It's alright, calm down," he soothed the first years who had stopped screaming, and were now gaping at Hadrian in obvious shock. Although to be fair, Hadrian mused, it might be the fact that one of the most venomous snakes in the world was in their common room. It was a Taipan snake, it was usually only found in Australia, someone had brought this over from there and put it in this room and out of them all it chose him to strike out at? No, this as no coincidence. Perhaps he could find out just who had tried to kill him, not that it would have worked mind.
"Hello, little one, where did you come from?" Hadrian hissed at it, gently and slowly lowering his arm, he wasn't stupid enough to move quickly and risk the snake actually biting him out of natural instinct with people being so close. And Taipan snakes were extremely deadly, death could occur within an hour, and that was even with the antivenin.
Avery bolted through the common room door, one goal in mind - to find Tom and tell him what he'd just learned. There was no way Tom would be happy about this piece of information, this was his new way back into a better position in the group. Hadrian would be shoved aside, if he survived, he was sure of it, Tom wouldn't trust Hadrian if he found out the boy was keeping secrets from them, from him. He ran up the stairs, winding himself, but not really caring as he bolted towards the library where the group was at the moment. At least they should be but the library closed at eight o'clock.
Turning another corner, he all but flew into them, actually did, causing both Thaddeus and Avery to crumble to the floor, Thaddeus screaming in agony, "I'm going to kill you, you bloody idiot!" he snarled, holding himself as agony thrummed through him, during their tumble to the floor Avery had kneed him in the balls. Breathing heavily, he grunted as he got himself to his feet, making no attempt to help Avery up still furious with him.
"Sorry," Avery said, still winded from his breakneck run through the school, the library must have been closed for some time - since nobody had come out to scold them for making any noise whatsoever. His body heaving as he tried to get as much air into his burning lungs. He wasn't used to running around like that, it was 'undignified of a pureblood to rush anywhere' according to his parents. Trying to regain his composure, not wanting to give them the impression he was eager to spill the information, Avery didn't exactly want blamed for it.
"Why are you running in the hallways anyway?" Carrow frowned, the last thing they wanted was points removed from Slytherin, they were actually in the lead already, and it wasn't even Christmas yet. It must be important obviously, which was the reason he asked.
Tom had begun moving, not even the slightest bit interested in what Avery had to say, suspecting it would be something incredibly boring at any rate. However his gait stopped immediately upon hearing what Avery had to say.
Avery became annoyed when Tom began moving again, not interested in what he had wanted to tell them. Well he would change his mind soon enough, he quickly spoke making sure it was loud enough for Tom to actually hear him from the distance between them, "Hadrian's a Parselmouth, I saw him speaking Parseltongue with my own eyes!" Avery insisted, his eyes wide, clutching his side trying to ease out the stitch that seemed to have taken up permanent resident on his side.
Tom frowned, his back still turned to the others, wondering why Hadrian would even speak the language of the serpents without a reason in the middle of the common room of all things. Even Hadrian had admitted in the past he'd usually only been able to speak it when a snake was nearby, that he didn't have the full control over the language like he (Tom) did. Without looking back he began to swiftly make his way to the common room, suspicion and concern squirming like a living thing deep in his gut.
"What do you mean he's a parselmouth?" Thaddeus asked, his aching groin forgotten, shaking his head wildly not truly understanding what the hell was going on. He noticed that Tom was on the move though, so quickly jerked his knees into action and began to follow Tom curious about what was going to happen. He heard the others beginning to catch up, their feet loud against the silence as they jogged.
Carrow noticed Avery didn't speak again after that big bombshell he'd let loose. He bore holes in his head as they moved, it was just too convenient that Avery was the one to overhear him, what had he been up to? Surely he was looking at this all wrong? Avery was jealous but he wouldn't risk Tom's wrath by doing anything to Hadrian. The niggling feeling remained but he tried to ignore it as they all finally caught up with Tom just outside the common room.
Anticipation rolled through Avery, he found it very difficult to keep his face schooled in a confused yet shocked mask. It had been Avery's intention to let the snake bite him, kill it then save him (if the healer could save him), it would elevate his status in the group instead of keeping himself positioned at the bottom. He honestly couldn't care what happened, he just wanted to be better than everyone else, wanted things to go back to normal before Peverell showed up and ruined everything.
The portrait swung open to reveal Hadrian sitting in his usual chair by the fireplace, his fingers stroking soothingly over a very poisonous snake. That stood out sure, but what stood out more was the poisonous green glare Hadrian was currently shooting Avery from where he stood in the middle of the group. Another thing Carrow noticed - the common room was utterly deserted.
"What happened?" Tom demanded as he approached him, his dark gaze checking every inch of Hadrian for any sign of injury, calming down when he saw he looked unharmed. He stood right next to him, his intense eyes boring down on him, possessively, ardently.
"Why don't you ask Avery?" Hadrian hissed out furiously, his glare never once letting up, Avery had just tried to kill him; he certainly wasn't going to let that go. Surprise flittered through the gaze of the group despite the fact they'd actually just been told about it - they hadn't really believed him. Mulciber gaped his jaw slightly unhinged, Tom had known, it was obvious he wasn't displaying any sign of surprise, shock or incredulity just like they were as they watched in half wonder half shock.