Chapter Text
The building looked weary of its own existence. Black stones partially overgrown with wild ivy, windows stained with dust and negligence, the garden surrounding it long given up on. It had an air of desperate stillness weighting upon it, as if it was trying to escape the mechanics of time and hold onto its former glamor.
It was sad to look at.
“Well, I’m very happy that I didn’t end up growing up here.” Hadrian muttered, unable to stop himself.
“You know what they say, my dear.” his mother said with a pained smile. “All parents should strive to spare their children of the unpleasantries they themselves had to experience in their lives.”
“And I’m thankful for that.” Hadrian returned the smile, but he quickly grew serious again. “We can still leave, you know? You don’t owe them anything. I know father told you the same.”
His mother shook her head, but she remained standing where she was, unwilling to take a single step closer to her childhood home. “We can’t rely on your father’s advice concerning my parents, Hadrian. We would end up burning the whole house down.”
“Maybe not the whole house.” Hadrian said pensively. “How about just a wing or two?”
Dorea chuckled, but once more the light air around them faded quickly. She sighed. “It would ease your return into society so much if we had the official – or even the unofficial – backing of my former family. They still hold so much influence, and if this visit can make the next few months easier for you, I’m willing to do whatever I can. Now, the sooner we get in there, the sooner we can leave.” she said, muttering the last sentence to herself. To Hadrian, she said with a raised eyebrow “Keep Kenaz under control for me, yes?”
“No promises.” Hadrian immediately replied, scowling at the place where his mother had experienced so much misery. “No matter their influence, I still don’t see why we have to be. Who cares if they want to talk now that there’s finally something worthwhile about me in their eyes? And it was rude from them to just demand that we come to lunch the very next day. You should have told them to go to –“
“Hadrian.” his mother said sharply. Hadrian straightened in response, looking up to her with a frown but already losing the defiant glint in his eyes. “I understand where you are coming from, but you are making this more difficult for me, for us, than it has to be. Later this month you will have to face a crowd of people looking at you with just as much disdain as these two will. Will you prove them right by behaving as childish as you are doing now?”
Hadrian swallowed drily. “No, mother. I apologize.” he said after a moment, the words tasting like ash. He didn’t like it when his mother was disappointed in him, but it was difficult for him to remain composed when faced with having to meet his estranged family for the first time in his life. It hurt even more to know how much his mother was suffering at the sight of her childhood home.
His mother nodded. “I know this is stressful for you. I know that as a child, you wished to be welcomed here more than anything, and being here now hurts you. It hurts me too. But we will get through this dinner, and we will take from them anything that might benefit us. It might be a reintroduction to society, it might be some family gossip they drop after a glass of wine. And no matter what happens,” and here she turned towards the house with a fierce glare, “Remember that they have already lost. No matter their intentions behind this invitation, no matter what kind of advantage they hope for by playing family, they’ve made the wrong choice many years ago and we all know it.”
Hadrian agreed, and as they walked through the tall gate towards the Black Mansion, he tried to let go of his anger. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want his mother to be here, but acting like a loudmouthed hothead didn’t make the situation any better. His face felt heated as he replayed his mother’s words inside his head, and he made a mental note to think the whole situation through when he had calmed down. Now was not the time to get embarrassed, not when he couldn’t afford to show any weakness to his grandparents.
Quietly, they walked down the stone path towards the door of the mansion, waiting for the door to open. The wards had recognized them upon arrival and had without doubt alerted the homeowners. There was no need to knock – it was considered a sign of poor manners and weak magical capabilities if you thought it necessary to announce yourself by knocking at the actual door.
They stood for a few more minutes outside the door, the additional wait making it difficult for Hadrian to control his temper. His hands were flexing against the tight, black gloves he was wearing in the face of such an obvious insult.
Finally, the door opened and revealed an old house elf. It was startling to see just how different this member of the house elf species looked compared to Ellie and Benny. This one was walking with a strong hunch, almost folded into half, one ear half gone because of what looked like an animal bite. His skin was sallow, and his eyes glazed over instead of piercing and knowing. Hadrian wanted nothing more than to bundle the elf up in at least three warm blankets and take him away from this horrible house, but he knew that it was impossible. The elf was old and weak, and even if he wanted to be freed or to bond to a new family, it was doubtful that he would survive it.
“Masters be in sitting room. Guests follow Gibby.” The house elf took a deep, rattling breath before slowly turning around and wandering off into the house. Mother and son shared a short look, full of I-wish-we-could, but they kept quiet and followed Gibby with slow steps, taking care to match the elf’s speed.
From the inside, the house managed to hold onto its shimmering past a little bit better. Dark accents everywhere were highlighted by golden candle holders and chandeliers, furniture heavy but well taken care of, portraits colourful and dust free. But when one looked past the efforts of the house elf slowly walking through the hallway, it was hard to ignore the stillness of every room, as if the air between the doors hadn’t moved in a few years, and the way portraits moved sluggishly, if they were awake at all.
The house had magic deeply entrenched in its walls and roofs, no doubt, but the magic was tired and used up. Not enough magic users lived here to lighten up all rooms and wings of the mansion, and the Black family magic present in this home had almost dried up.
Hadrian tried to imagine his mother as a child, running through the hallways and filling them with laughter and magic. Then he immediately corrected his mental image because he was certain that his grandparents hadn’t allowed their children to do something as uncouth as running, and it was difficult to imagine that they gave their children much reason to laugh. A few memories of his own childhood crossed his mind, open doors and windows inviting fresh air and sunlight into the cottage, his father running through the library, trying to laugh and eat at the same time as Dorea scolded him for bringing food in there again, Hadrian drawing onto the walls with all of the enthusiasm and lack of skill that a five-year-old child could have.
The society they were part of by name only might pity them, might pity him for growing up away from his rich, influential relatives, but Hadrian found himself incredibly thankful for his parents’ decision whenever he was reminded of how he might have grown up instead. If asked, he would change nothing at all.
“The sitting room.” Gibby said, tapping with one of his long fingers against a closed door. For a moment nothing appeared to happen, though Hadrian knew that in the room behind the door, a chiming sound announced the arrival of the guests. A few seconds later, Gibby tapped against the door once more, and the wooden frame groaned as it swung open. Gibby bowed to the people inside the sitting room, his forehead almost touching the floor, coughing out a “The guests, Masters Black.” before disappearing with a startling loud ‘pop’. Weak magic, then, for a house elf. Since the house was in such a good state, at least on the inside, this suggested that there were multiple house elves bound to these Blacks.
Hadrian followed his mother into the room, a quick look revealing two large windows with heavy gold curtains drawn almost completely shut, a second door (closed), a piano forte (closed) and the sitting area itself. An empty couch faced two large armchairs, both of which were occupied.
“Father. Mother. It has been a long time.” Dorea greeted her parents.
Hadrian had to suppress a smile. No ‘thank you for inviting us’, no ‘it is good to see you’. Instead, the simple truth. It had been a long time since his mother had seen her parents, because they had thrown her out and refused to have any contact with her afterwards.
Hadrian refrained from greeting his grandparents with anything more than a nod. Technically, he had the highest status of the four of them, but truthfully, he was simply too distracted by the sight of his grandparents to say anything.
This was the first time he had met them. He had known what they looked like because of the Daily Prophet’s society slash gossip section, but Cygnus and Violetta Black looked completely different now, sitting stiffly in the pompous armchairs, at once looking up to them because they were sitting and at the same time trying their hardest to look down on them.
Cygnus was thin, his skin looking too stretched out across his long limbs. There was a small tremor in his hands, either a sign of overuse of dark magic or simply a sign of old age. His dress robes were a size too big, another attempt to hold onto long lost times of relevance and pride.
Violetta, on the other hand, appeared to cling onto youthful energy with claw like fingernails and pure spite. Her dark makeup contrasted dramatically with her white skin, and her long hair was twisted into a high hairdo. One of her hands gripped a teacup tightly, while the other petted a mean looking kneazle in her lap.
Neither of them was smiling.
Hadrian’s first instinct was to take a step back, hunch up his shoulders, make himself smaller. His skin felt tight beneath their stares, his hackles rising even though no threat or insult had been done to him. Angry at himself for his reaction to his grandparents, he forced himself to stand just a bit straighter, rise his head just a little bit more. He had spent too many years wondering what was wrong with him that these people had never even wanted to meet him. Had never sent him a single letter. He had built them up in his head, first as saints and then as villains.
Seeing them now, in real life, made it almost hysterically clear to him how skewed his perception of his grandparents had been. Cygnus and Violetta Black were two completely ordinary humans. They were small and old, and they would leave this earth and their life with nothing, being mourned by no one. He cared about them no more than he cared about a rat sneaking into the house and being a nuisance. He had to deal with them and then he would turn around and forget about them just as easily.
“Dorea.” Violetta suddenly said. The kneazle hissed at them and her lips pulled into an insincere smile. “And... your son. How nice of you to join us for dinner.”
“Indeed. Mother.” Dorea said shortly.
You invited us, Hadrian thought angrily. Were they really attempting to scold his mother? Politely of course, never outright, but a scolding, nevertheless? They had lost that privilege a long time ago, and in Hadrian’s eyes, his mother and he were doing his grandparents a huge favour, being here and giving them the illusion of having relevance.
An awkward moment of silence passed between them, broken by Cygnus who slapped his palm on one of the arm rests of the armchair and bellowed “Food!”. followed by a hacking cough.
Violetta appeared to take this as a signal to commence to the dining room. She walked quickly, not looking back at neither her guests nor her husband, who was struggling a bit with rising from the low chair. Hadrian felt wrongfooted – conventional social rules did not apply here, and he had the growing suspicion, that this dinner would not only be utterly pointless but also incredibly exhausting.
Hopefully, there wouldn’t be too many courses.
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“How are Walburga and Cygnus?” his mother’s voice broke the silence lying heavily across the dining table.
Hadrian couldn’t help but peak up with interest. His mother never talked about her siblings, or any of the other Blacks, and the Daily Prophet would report the disappearance of the sun if you’d pay it enough.
“Cygnus and Druella are raising Bellatrix and Narcissa into being exemplary witches.” Violetta stared at her daughter from over the rim of her wine glass. “They are doing the family proud at Hogwarts, why, dear Bellatrix has already been promised an apprenticeship with Lord Slytherin! And both have secured excellent marriage prospects and are sure to be married soon after graduating.”
“Bellatrix is engaged to Rodolphus Lestrange, correct?” Dorea asked calmy, ignoring the poorly veiled insult towards her son who was not, currently, “doing the family proud at Hogwarts”. “Who is Narcissa’s chosen?”
“Lucius Malfoy. Violetta seemed to grow a few inches in her seat, chest heaving with pride. “An outstanding match.”
“What about Cousin Andromeda?” Hadrian asked, curiosity winning over his desire to keep attention away from him.
Cygnus threw his wine glass on the floor, glass shards flying everywhere and one cutting into his red face. “Don’t mention that traitorous bitch!”
Hadrian stared in shock as Violetta simply waited for the glass shards to disappear out of her own wine glass with the ‘pop’ of house elf magic, before taking another large sip. “She was cast out of the family after becoming insane. We do not speak of her.” She turned back towards Dorea. “And Walburga is doing her best at controlling her sons. Regulus is acceptable enough, but we fear her oldest, Sirius, is a lost cause. A Gryffindor, can you believe it? Disgraceful. In fact –“ she stared at Hadrian with cold eyes. “The boy runs around with James Potter. Lives with him, too, apparently. Ungrateful welp. No doubt, his so-called ‘best friend’ has been a disastrous influence on him. We had thought the Potter boy might grow up after taking on the responsibilities of being Lord Potter, but … well.”
Hadrian met the eyes of his grandmother, who stared him down over what now must have been her second glass of wine.
“Well… now there’s you. Lord Potter. What a surprise that must have been.”
They had been eating for about half an hour now, and these were the first words she had said to him. Swallowing a piece of an unidentifiable but nevertheless delicious vegetable, Hadrian nodded politely. “It was indeed a surprise to all of us.” he said. “But I intend to fulfil the role to the best of my abilities.”
Cygnus snorted. “Bunch of weaklings in the Wizengamot nowadays.” He stabbed a piece of meat with more force than necessary, blood seeping out of the almost raw meat onto his plate. “You’ll fit right in.”
Hadrian’s hands clenched around the cutlery, but he forced himself to ignore the words.
“Please refrain from talking to my son this way, father.” Dorea said coldly. The man ignored her, raising the piece of meat to his mouth and spilling a mix of sauce and blood all over his chin as he chewed it loudly.
This was what Hadrian was supposed to strive for? This was what everyone pitied him for missing out on? Hadrian dearly hoped that the other students at Hogwarts possessed better table manners than his grandfather was currently demonstrating, because he was feeling a little bit sick just hearing him eat, nevermind watching him.
“With that kind of father, your son was always going to turn out to be a weakling, Dorea, it is a simple matter of biology.” Violetta said with a pitying smile, almost as if she was telling her daughter a simple but sad truth instead of insulting her family. “Do you even have a wand, boy?”
Hadrian was too busy being offended on behalf of his father to get angry about being insulted himself. “I use wandless magic, as I am unable to bond with a wand.” he said stiffly.
“That’s what you get when you breed with a squib.” Violetta said wisely. Before Hadrian was able to cuss her out, she already continued talking. “What are you hoping to achieve at Hogwarts without a wand? An apprenticeship with the squib caretaker? And the gloves… some kind of maldevelopment, I assume?”
Hadrian turned to his mother. Were they supposed to just listen to this? Who cared about their reintroduction to the Wizarding society when faced with... this? There was no reason why they should allow themselves to be insulted like this. Not a single one. He knew that his mother had never wanted to lose all of her connections to the Black family, but these two venomous slugs should be worth nothing to her. Though, looking at the thunderous expression on his mother’s face, she was already revaluating the disadvantages of matricide.
“How do you control your magic without a wand, Lord Potter?” Hadrian’s grandmother asked him with a vicious smile. “With that thing around your arm? Or is it so weak that it requires no control at all?”
Hadrian was caught off guard for a moment, glancing at the magical artefact peeking out from his robes. He had almost forgotten that it was there, it felt so natural against his skin. An extension of himself instead of a foreign addition. Maybe because his father had crafted large parts of it with his magic...?
He looked up to glare at the woman across the table. At this point, Cygnus was the only one still eating. “I believe I mentioned that I use wandless magic, Mrs. Black. My control of my magic is excellent, and it does not depend on any other aids.”
“You should learn some respect before you dare showing your face to the public.” his grandmother hissed, the sound waking up the kneazle in her lap. “Children of the Black family have always been raised with a strong hand – why, if you were Walburga’s son, her wand would have raised you right! Her sons are taught magic like every child should – by experiencing it! Oh, the embarrassment we will have to face because they will associate us with a squib upstart like you –“
Hadrian’s mother had her right hand in the left sleeve of her robes, prepared to draw her wand as she glared at her mother.
“If you do not stop talking about my husband and son like this I will toujours pur your pathetic –“
“How dare you –“
“Silence, muddaughter!” Cygnus bellowed over both women.
The clock behind him ticked twice – tic, toc – and the dinner table erupted in flames.
Violetta screamed, falling from her chair and accidentally throwing her pet kneazle towards the flames. The animal hissed angrily, burrowing its claws into the witch’s arm and tumbling to the ground with her. Cygnus stared dumbly at the flames, mouth opening and closing as he poked towards it with his fork.
Meanwhile, Dorea had turned towards Hadrian with a sigh.
“There is nothing you can say which will convince me that this isn’t completely justified.” Hadrian immediately said. On his left hand, Kenaz pulsated angrily.
His mother looked back at the table and then at the sad sight of her mother attempting to stand up again, before shaking her head.
“Let’s just leave.” she said.
They walked out of the house, never seeing a single house elf rushing to aid their masters or apprehend Hadrian for endangering them. Hadrian couldn’t help but think that Ellie would hunt anyone down with her kitchen knives if they dared to harm anyone in her home.
Neither of them spoke as they passed through the gate, though Dorea laid a shaking hand on Hadrian’s arm, signalling that she did not feel focused enough to apparate on her own. Hadrian put his right hand over his mother’s, concentrating on Raidho, asking her to guide their travel, and activating Fehu as a supporting rune since he wasn’t travelling alone.
Travelling with the help of Raidho, Hadrian had found out, was much more agreeable with his stomach than wixen standard apparation. Instead of feeling like being pressed though a tiny tube, it felt a bit like falling into a deep river. He suspected that the rune used ley lines to transport them, since she was uniquely connected to the flow of power lines and magic itself, but he couldn’t be certain. Sadly, there was not a lot of literature he could use to figure out how his magic worked.
As they appeared a few feet away from the entrance to their home, Hadrian made a mental note to discuss this idea with Master Ollivander when he came to visit later this week. First, however...
He turned to his mother who was staring at the ground with a deep frown. Ignoring his own anger for the moment, Hadrian took her hands gently into his own.
“What do you need?” he asked in a low voice.
His mother didn’t react for a moment before abruptly drawing in a shaky breath. She turned towards Hadrian, crushing him into a tight hug with not an ounce of regard for etiquette or propriety. “I – Hadrian, I need you to know that not a single word those, those spineless flubberworms told you was true. Not even one. You are, you are so precious, and wonderful, and I would not want to change anything about you.”
Hadrian hugged his mother back, squeezing his eyes shut as they started to burn. Hot strings seemed to be laced tightly around his throat, and even as he tried to return the sentiment, no words were able to escape his open mouth.
“They are no family of ours, do you hear me? We owe them nothing, not anymore, and they will burn to the ground as you go on and live an extraordinary life.” Dorea seemed to be fighting tears herself, her voice growing hoarse. “I am so sorry, my dear. My love. I am so sorry that I allowed them to say all those horrible things. We should have never gone there. I should have killed that, that bitch as soon as she looked at you as if you were somehow below her.”
“Mother – mum. Mum.” Hadrian finally managed to choke out the words. “Don’t – don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, it’s theirs, and – It’s, we’re okay, aren’t we? Their house probably burned down, if we’re lucky, so we don’t have to care about them anymore. What does father always say? Huh?”
Dorea laughed. “Fuck ‘em.”
“Fuck. Them.” Hadrian repeated with hot anger.
They remained there for a moment, in tight embrace and breathing a bit too fast and a bit too shakily, before Dorea stood up straight with a sigh. She stared at their home, their sunny and lively cottage with a blank face before turning towards her son.
“Fire protection wards.” she said.
“Huh?” Hadrian frowned.
“The Black Mansion has standard fire protection wards. So, it probably did not burn down.”
Hadrian shrugged. “Oh well, maybe Kenaz and I will get another chance at some point.”
Dorea huffed a small laugh, looking back at their home and smoothing out her robes with a slightly steadier hand. “Hadrian, my dear, I’m afraid I’ll need a few hours for myself.”
Hadrian nodded immediately. He knew how important it was for his mother to be able to be alone when she felt vulnerable like this. They were very much alike in this regard. “Of course, mother. I think I’ll visit Kenan, actually. He’ll be angry if I take too long with telling him about everything, and he’ll be able to calm me down.”
And he needed to calm down, badly. Kenaz was still active, bleeding sluggishly beneath his gloves. A few other, more destructive runes were also reacting to the anger still burning brightly inside of him. He had two options: tire himself out in the training room by himself, leaving him exhausted but probably also feeling like dragon dung, or visiting his friend.
Next to him, his mother nodded with a thankful and fond look in her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead. “Give Kenan my best wishes, my dear.” She said with a small smile, before quickly walking towards the cottage.
Hadrian took another deep breath, remaining in his spot until his mother walked through their home’s doors, before he turned towards the forest. It was time to see his friend.
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Hadrian took a moment to think about whether he wanted to take anything with him. The scarf Kenan had left behind for him was tucked into one of the pockets of his formal dress robe, and the unbreakable emergency vial of Blood Replenishing Potion was tied to a long leather necklace and resting on his chest. He didn’t need anything else, and thus he was ready to leave for Germany.
Travelling to a different country normally made the runes a bit cranky, as Hadrian had found out. It wasn’t exactly the distance that was the problem (though Hadrian had needed a full vial of Blood Replenishing Potion when he travelled to Chile in a single ‘jump’, resulting in a record-breaking scolding from his mother which had left his ears ringing), but more a matter of familiarity. British soil felt familiar to him and his runes in a way that had more to do with the magic beneath the ground than the ground itself. Different countries had different kinds of natural magic, Hadrian felt, and sometimes Raidho did not like the ley lines Hadrian travelled on.
But thankfully, the forest in Germany he wanted to visit was a familiar destination for all of them. And the restless anger keeping his runes active ensured that Hadrian didn’t have to do much more than poke at Raidho with a questioning thought and the rune immediately started burning lightly. As a precaution, despite the rune’s eagerness, Hadrian channelled his magic towards Ehwaz as well. The transportation rune bonded with physical transportation means such as a broom rather than ley lines, but they were also a rune compatible with Raidho and always willing to support her.
The familiar sensation of being gently tugged beneath the surface of a calm stream of water made Hadrian smile as he closed his eyes. Towards the end his father had wanted Hadrian to always take him the places he wanted to go but was too weak to apparate to. His father had loved Hadrian’s way of travel, and three years later the smooth waves carrying him across lands and waters held a small part of the soothing touch of his father’s embrace.
The air suddenly seemed to stop around him, as if everything had frozen in time for a second, but immediately after, the sounds and smells of the world came alive again. Hadrian opened his eyes to tall trees reaching towards the sky, their crowns of leaves only allowing scattered sunlight to meet Hadrian on the floor of the forest.
While he had sweated through his dress robes in the burning sun at home, he was now quite thankful for the heavy garments he had had to put on for the Black family lunch. It was notably colder here than at home, though luckily not cold enough for Hadrian to having to resort to ask Kenaz for some additional warmth.
He looked around the familiar clearing. Nothing much had changed since the last time he had visited Kenan here – if he remembered correctly, it had been the end of August last year. Returning to this place after almost a full year and seeing it almost unchanged calmed Hadrian down in a way even the most soothing words of his parents couldn’t. Here, surrounded by nature, he was once more reminded of the fact that he was only a very small part in an incredibly large, never-ending game of life. The trees around him didn’t care about his inheritance, and the grass beneath his feet would straighten again after he left this place, covering his footprints and erasing his presence. It was freeing in a way, to know that whatever he decided to do with his life, in a year, ten years, a thousand years, none of it would matter anymore.
Hadrian slowly walked towards the edge of the almost perfectly round clearing, struck by the sudden urge to feel the coarse wood of the trees beneath his hand. He tugged off his gloves, flexing his fingers and watching the sunlight cast miniature shadows into the scars of his runes. He was so entranced by the play of light that he almost missed the shrill song of an arrow piercing through the air.
Instinct took over as he recognized the sound and Hadrian let his body fall to the ground. “Algiz!” he gasped out, more a call for help instead of a conscious use of the rune. A protective shield immediately wrapped around him, and the rune on his right hand bristled in the back of his mind as they both looked around to find the source of the threat.
To his left, where the arrow had come from, a large shadow emerged from between the trees. Hadrian sprang to his feet, ready to defend himself if it proved necessary.
“Oh.” a flat voice said. “It’s just you.”
Hadrian sighed, relaxing his stand. “Kaila. Arrows before words, still?”
The centaur woman stared at him like he was a particularly unruly puppy. “Always.” She turned around, apparently deeming him unsuitable company for a chat. Hadrian wasn’t offended – Kaila didn’t have much patience for anyone.
“Can you tell Kenan that I’m here?” he called after her.
Her tail cut through the air, agitated, and annoyed. “He knows that you are here. The stars were loud last night.”
Hadrian nodded and then frowned. “Wait, does that mean you also knew it was me and you still shot at me?”
Kaila looked at him for a long moment, her face completely expressionless, before she disappeared into the forest around them.
“That didn’t go too bad.” Hadrian muttered to himself. Compared to past interactions with Kenan’s older sister, this had been almost amiable. He wasn’t even bleeding this time. Maybe she was warming up to him.
Only a few minutes after almost getting shot by Kaila, Hadrian could hear hooves travelling closer to him. He sat up from where he had been leaning against a tree stump and watched as once more a large shadow broke away from the forest line and moved into the light of the clearing.
“Rian!”
Hadrian grinned, jumping to his feet. “Kenan!” he shouted, running to meet his friend halfway.
Strong arms caught him around his waist, and Hadrian laughed as Kenan lifted him up and into a crushing hug. Even though Kenan was a year younger than him, Hadrian’s head barely reached the torso of the centaur’s human half, and Kenan had never hesitated to use his size for his advantage. Centaur children played roughly, and even though Hadrian didn’t exactly care for the bruises, he loved that his friend treated him like he would any other friend.
“It’s been too long, my friend.” Kenan said earnestly as he placed Hadrian back on the ground.
“I know.” Hadrian had to push down a familiar surge of guilt at Kenan’s words. He often struggled with keeping up the contact with Kenan and Hchala – he simply wasn’t used to having to actively reach out to the people in his life instead of simply walking downstairs and starting a conversation. It had only been him and his parents for so long. He loved his friends dearly and would defend them with his life no questions asked – but reaching out to schedule meet-ups was sometimes overwhelming to him. He worried about getting on their nerves, being needy, when they had other friends they probably liked more than him, but then too much time passed and he worried about not reaching out, worried about them thinking he didn’t want to spend time with them, and then even more time passed and it felt like it had been too long and reaching out now would mean having to explain his absence but there was no actual explanation, and then –
That was normally the point at which he got a message from either of them, dragging him into the forest to meet up and calm down his irrational worries.
Hadrian truly didn’t deserve his friends, but he would cling onto them as hard as he could, as much as he allowed himself, nevertheless.
“Sorry about that. There has been… so much has changed so quickly and it feels like I haven’t had time to stop and breathe, you know?”
“I know.” Kenan smiled softly, his golden-brown eyes warm with affection. “The North Star has been covered by thunderclouds for many days now, as if nature herself couldn’t decide where to she should lead all life. But the winds have become stronger – soon the clouds will fade, and the North Star’s light will guide you once more.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes. “I still don’t know whether you mean to imply that the North Star is my guide, or if, for some absurd reason, you think I am the North Star.”
Kenan nodded. “Yes.”
“That wasn’t a yes-or-no question, Kenan.”
“Wasn’t it?”
Hadrian laughed, giving up their old time argument in favour of sitting down in the grass below them. Kenan stood still beside him for a few more seconds, tail swishing left and right while he stared into the shadows of the forest around them. Then, his body relaxed, his eyes finding Hadrian as he slowly kneeled down next to him.
“Tell me about the thunderclouds.” his friend instructed him as he started collecting the wildflowers around them.
It took some time for Hadrian to find the words – he had the habit of trying to structure his words like an academic essay, and then getting impatient with himself for talking too slowly and thinking too quickly. In the end, he simply told Kenan everything – from being forcefully summoned into the ritual chambers of Gringotts, to today’s disastrous family reunion. At some point he started pacing around, angrily walking circles around his friend and crouching down now and then to rip out some wildflowers and give them to the centaur.
After almost an hour, Hadrian collapsed next to his friend, completely exhausted.
“So … that’s everything.”
Kenan hummed, his face set in deep concentration as he twisted the stems of various flowers around each other. Hadrian closed his eyes, slowly calming down as he waited for his friend to work though everything Hadrian had just told him.
“I am sorry for your loss.”
“Huh?” Hadrian opened his eyes, looking up at his friend’s face in confusion. “What loss?”
Kenan put the flowers down before him and instead raised one of his hands to gently brush through Hadrian’s hair. “I am sorry for the loss of a life you should have lived but never experienced. I am sorry for the loss of your family … even though they appear to be horrible people, and I could not despise them more for the hurt you suffered because of them, you still feel the loss and I ache with you.”
Hadrian had to look away from his friend’s eyes, swallowing drily as he was forced to confront the hurt buried so deeply inside of him that he had almost convinced himself that it wasn’t there.
“Thank you.” He said hoarsely. “You know, most people so far have congratulated me. Like gaining the lordship and re-entering the society is the best thing that could have happened to me. Like my life must have been awful until now.
“Mostly, I am terrified. There’s this expectation of everyone that … that I’m gonna crash and burn, you know? And I know that’s not going to happen, but I also feel like I can’t allow myself any kind of mistake. Or even any kind of mediocrity. I want all these people who have shunned my parents to have to admit that they were wrong. But for that to happen, it won’t be enough if I just fit in, I have to stand out, I have to be better than them. And also, I don’t want to fit in, because I don’t want to be like them. I don’t want to go to Hogwarts and start believing that not having a wand makes me inferior. I don’t want to sit in the Wizengamot and vote for laws that I don’t believe in, because that’s the only way the other Lords and Ladies will respect me.”
Hadrian groaned, rubbing his hands harshly over his face until white sparks danced behind his closed eyes. “There are just… so many things I have to do and I’m afraid I’m going to do all of them wrong.”
Kenan grasped his hands, pulling them away from Hadrian’s face and gently tracing the rune scars. Jera and Raidho hummed lightly under his touch; Kenan had always been their favourite.
“There is no point in trying to solve all future problems when you yourself are still here in the present. With every day you grow and learn, and as you master one task after another, your future tasks grow less daunting. I do not doubt that you will take the wixen world by storm, Rian. But I understand that it must feel like an impossible feat, and therefore I only ask you to remember this: you are not alone. You will face these tasks with your family, your true family, by your side, and your friends at hand. You won’t face the Wizengamot alone – you mentioned Lord Ogden coming for a visit, correct? You won’t face the public alone – Ollivander would burn down Diagon Alley before allowing harm to come to you. And you won’t be alone at Hogwarts either.”
Hadrian looked up with wide eyes as warm hands placed a crown of wildflowers on his head. “At… Hogwarts?” he asked.
Kenan grinned, joy breaking through his usual calm. “Hadrian, Hogwarts was built right next to a large centaur habitat. I do not care how long the negotiations with that centaur herd will take – I will be just behind the forest line for you, as I have always been.”
Hadrian blinked furiously, trying to keep his eyes from tearing up but failing miserably. “I – Kenan, your family, your –“
“As I’ve said, Polaris.” Kenan interrupted him. “Your true family will stand by your side. And you know… there is also a very large lake on the Hogwarts grounds.”
Hadrian forgot his tears as he realized what his friend was implying. “You don’t mean …”
Kenan adjusted the crown on Hadrian’s head with a smile. “Hchala would leave the waters if it was necessary to stay by your side, but she will much prefer the lake, I believe. You have already told her about everything, I assume?”
“Ah.” Hadrian said. “Eh, not yet.”
“Oh dear.”
“I’m meeting up with her the day after tomorrow.” Hadrian muttered.
“Well, that should be interesting. I will try to be there as well, if only to – as the wixen say ‘enjoy the show’.”
Hadrian tried to glare at his friend, but the last few minutes made it impossible to even pretend to be irritated with him. “Whatever. I’ll send you an owl.”
Kenan peaked up. “You bought an owl?”
Hadrian laughed “Well… not exactly.”, he said, launching right into the next story, feeling lighter than he had in days.
