Aftermath Of Abandonment ✔ - Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Voldemort seethed with rage, his crimson eyes blazing with fury at the audacious challenge posed by Harry Potter. How dare the boy confront him so brazenly? Determined to demonstrate his formidable power, he attempted to summon each of his loyal followers but received nothing—no responses, no signs of loyalty. This lack of adherence only fueled his anger further.
In a fury, he apparated to Malfoy Manor, eager to confront his once-reliable allies. To his dismay, he found the estate overrun by Ministry officials, their presence a stark reminder of his waning influence. The sight of his abandoned stronghold only added to his growing frustration.
Next, he vanished from the scene, reappearing at Riddle Manor, the site of his ancestral power. But there, he was confronted by a shocking reality: the manor that had once stood proud and imposing was now reduced to rubble, undergoing extensive reconstruction. He was seeing the dilapidated remains, which caused his magic to flicker and tremble in response to his rage.
Seeking solace in the shadows, he went to the Forbidden Forest. There, he found a small gathering of vampires loyal to his cause, their faces a mix of shock and apprehension at his sudden arrival. Among them, the eldest sire stepped forward, a figure draped in darkness, and knelt before Voldemort, followed closely by the others. Their submission was a flicker of the power he craved, though it paled compared to the loyalty he had once commanded.
"My Lord," Shane called out, his voice slicing through the stillness of the forest. In an instant, a jolt of agony surged through him, merging with the cries of others who shared his torment. His screams ricocheted off the ancient trees, sending startled birds flapping into the sky and startling the woodland creatures into hiding.
Voldemort's serpentine figure loomed ominously in the shadowy glade, his red eyes blazing with fury as he hissed a question, each word dripping with malice. "Where are all of my Death Eaters? Why do none answer my summons?" The air grew thick with tension, the very earth beneath them seeming to tremble in response to their master's rage.
"My Lord, they have been ruthlessly annihilated by the Ministry," Shane stammered, his voice quaking with fear as he braced himself for the wrath he anticipated. "The place underwent a thorough cleansing, and in a grim turn of events, both Senior Malfoy and Yaxley were exterminated just yesterday. Mrs. Malfoy now languishes in the cold confines of Azkaban, while their son is currently in St. Mungo's, receiving therapy for his troubling views and ideologies under the watchful eye of the Ministry. Every Death Eater is being hunted down and executed with brutal efficiency, My Lord, but not before they are made to confess their vile crimes."
He paused, swallowing hard, relieved that the promised pain hadn't yet come. Overwhelmed, he saw Voldemort's usually merciless expression twisted in shock. The Dark Lord realised, perhaps for the first time, that his grip on the Ministry had slipped beyond reach, and with Snape's demise, Hogwarts was now barricaded from him. The darkness of despair settled over him, leaving him only one path to dominion over the wizarding world: he would have to confront Harry Potter, standing defiantly in the way of his ambitions.
The days leading up to the Christmas holidays swept by in a whirlwind of chaotic energy. Hermione and Ron relentlessly pursued Hadrian's forgiveness, trailing behind him like a pair of lost puppies, their expressions a mix of desperation and guilt. In stark contrast, Ginerva was actively trying to charm him, her flirtations becoming increasingly bold, which only heightened Hadrian's frustration. It took every ounce of restraint and willpower for him and his loyal friends to refrain from lashing out against the trio. They incessantly peppered him with questions about how he had conquered the Horcruxes, but Hadrian remained tightly lipped-, deeming them unworthy of the truth. He did not feel responsible for their curiosity or owe them any explanations.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Weasley hovered around him in her typical motherly fashion, her warm, nurturing instincts on display. When her attempts to smother him with love and attention failed, she resorted to the silent treatment—a strategy that had little effect on Hadrian, whose resolve grew more assertive. In these moments, he found a sense of happiness and newfound freedom, unencumbered by the maternal care that once felt stifling. Now, he spent his time engaging in deep conversations with the portraits of his parents and godfather, a connection he had long missed.
Staying at Potter Manor afforded him the presence of his ancestors, their portraits lining the walls, projecting both wisdom and warmth. Remus and Dora occasionally visited him from Italy, bringing their newborn son, Teddy. They would come from the nearby Marauder's Cottage, a cherished refuge acquired during the dark days of the war, nestled against a quaint forest that served as a haven for Moony during his transformations.
As time passed, Hadrian made a significant decision—he gifted Grimmauld Place to Andy and Ted as a dowry for their upcoming marriage. This gesture felt right despite Ted's insistence that he didn't want it. But with a gentle yet firm nudge from Andy, Ted eventually acquiesced. From time to time, Andy and Ted would check in on him, and he fondly remembered the first time he had visited Grimmauld Place before transitioning to Potter Manor, a decision prompted by his parents' wise counsel. The memories enriched his heart, intertwining friendship with moments of reflection in the ever-complex tapestry of his life.
Flashback:
Hadrian stepped through the heavy, creaking door of Grimmauld Place, the weight of his recent encounter with Amelia Bones still pressing on his shoulders. It had been a long, arduous day filled with revelations and responsibilities, leaving him feeling utterly drained. Despite his exhaustion, a deep longing propelled him forward—the yearning to reconnect with the parents he had lost long ago.
As he entered the dimly lit room designated for family portraits, anticipation and trepidation swelled. The walls, darkened by age, were adorned with lifelike portraits of his family. To his astonishment, five frames hung in a row: two captured the serene visages of his parents, James and Lily, their expressions forever locked in peaceful slumber, while two others bore the likeness of his beloved godfather, Sirius. The final, more giant portrait depicted the three of them together, their bonds evident even in stillness.
Just as he was about to step closer, lost in the beauty of their painted memories, a sudden pop startled him. He turned to find Kreacher, the house-elf, standing by his side, his expression a mix of surprise and begrudging respect. The air in the room was thick with nostalgia, and Hadrian's heart raced as he prepared to face the echoes of his past.
"Master Hadrian, it is a pleasure to see you again," the house elf Kreacher said, his voice filled with warmth as he bowed slightly, his dark eyes sparkling with eagerness. "What can Kreacher do for you today?"
Hadrian smiled, taking in the transformed surroundings of the once-dreary house. "First of all, Kreacher, your handiwork on this home is remarkable. The atmosphere is inviting now—much more than the eerie and ominous feel before your redecoration. You've truly worked wonders here, and I am grateful for all the effort you've put in," he replied, the appreciation clear in his tone. "Now, if you could bring me something to eat along with a refreshing fruit juice or a cocktail, I would be most pleased."
"What would you like to eat, Master Hadrian?" Kreacher inquired, tilting his head to one side, eager to hear his master's preferences. Hadrian paused momentarily, tapping his chin in thought before a playful grin spread across his face.
"Surprise me, Kreacher," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. With a quick nod, Kreacher vanished into thin air, leaving a faint air swirl behind him. Hadrian couldn't help but jump slightly in excitement, turning to gaze at the portraits decorating the walls, their painted figures watching the events unfold with a curious interest.
"I always knew there was more to you than meets the eye, Pup. It's truly wonderful to see you," Sirius remarked, his voice warm yet teasing. Hadrian shot him a playful glare, still slightly rattled by the sudden appearance. But the tension dissipated as a smile broke across his face; he turned to greet Sirius and his parents, the expressions on their faces a comforting reminder of home.
"It's such a relief to finally see and talk with you properly, Mum, Dad, and Father," Hadrian said, his heart swelling as each beamed back at him with tender affection.
"We missed you so much, Prongslet/Baby/Pup," they chimed harmoniously, their eyes sparkling with love.
"I missed you too," Hadrian replied, his voice filled with joy and longing.
"Baby, why don't you share your childhood and school experiences? We're eager to hear everything," Lily encouraged, her eyes filled with maternal warmth. However, an anxious gulp rose in Hadrian's throat at the question.
"Are you sure you want to hear about what I've been through?" he asked hesitantly, the shadows of his past flickering in his mind.
"Prongslet, even if we can't be there for you in person, we're always with you in spirit, no matter what," James reassured him, his voice steady and filled with conviction. Encouraged by the supportive smiles from both Lily and Sirius, Hadrian felt a surge of bravery.
With a deep breath, he began to recount his life story, sharing everything that had shaped him up to that morning. Each detail poured out, a tapestry woven with trials and triumphs. As he finished, he noticed Sirius and James subtly shifting away from Lily, who seemed on the brink of bursting with emotion, her pride and concern beautifully intertwined.
"THAT STUPID OLD WANKER, I'M GOING TO SLAUGHTER HIM AGAIN AND AGAIN, HE MADE MY BABY LIFE HELL, AND HE ENJOYED THE LUXURIES OF POTTER AND EVAN FAMILIES WHICH ARE NOT HIS IN ANYWAY AND MY SISTER THAT WOMAN, I PROMISE YOU BABY MY SOUL WILL MAKE SURE THAT THOSE THREE AND THE OLD WANKER WILL BURN IN THE PITS OF HELL THAT THEY WILL REGRET EVER DOING THAT," Lily continued ranting for next forty minutes while Hadrian had his food peacefully.
"Mum, I'm fine now. Please drop the subject," Hadrian requested, his voice gentle yet firm, hoping to ease the tension that lingered in the air between them. Lily, noticing the calmness in his tone, felt her concern lift ever so slightly.
"Sweetheart, you must understand," she began, her eyes softening as she spoke. "I truly wish for you to move to Potter Manor. It's not just a house; it's where you were born, a place steeped in our family's history. Your ancestors and grandparents walked those halls, and after marrying your father, it also became my home." Her voice was tinged with emotion as memories of the Manor flooded back to her.
Hadrian nodded thoughtfully, feeling the weight of his mother's words. "Alright, Mum. I'll ask the elves to pack up everything and move it to the Manor," he replied with a sense of resolve. He understood the importance of the place, not only to his lineage but to his mother's heart. After they spoke, he made a point to connect with them daily, ensuring he spent at least thirty minutes with them, regardless of how hectic his schedule became. Their camaraderie brought him a sense of comfort and connection that he cherished deeply.
On this momentous day, Hadrian stood alongside Minerva and various esteemed professors, united with the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, vigilant Aurors, and Amelia. Unbeknownst to Hadrian, Amelia had discreetly collaborated with a few Ministry officials and Remus to cast a powerful listening and seeing charm. This enchantment allowed the entire Wizarding World to witness the unfolding events.
At the front gates of Hogwarts, Remus and Dora anxiously awaited the arrival of the Dark Lord. For the past two days, they had meticulously executed a plan involving the strategic placement of wards designed to contain werewolves, ensuring that the confrontation would be included. The atmosphere was tense as they stared into the distance, each heartbeat amplifying the anxious anticipation.
Then, with a thunderous blast that echoed through the grounds, Voldemort made his grand entrance. An imposing cadre of fifteen vampires flanked him and approximately twenty werewolves, a sight that, at first glance, seemed more like a band of street fighters than the feared Dark Lord who had haunted their nightmares. The eerie tension turned palpable as they reached the midway point of the path. Suddenly, the werewolves halted, unable to advance, confusion spreading through the crowd.
In that charged moment, Hadrian burst into laughter, his voice cutting through the silence as he boldly stepped forward, ready to confront the gathering storm that was about to unfold.
"Once more, we find ourselves in each other's presence, Tom," Hadrian called out, his voice echoing through the dimly lit chamber. Voldemort's eyes narrowed, his expression twisted in fury as he turned to face Hadrian, the air between them crackling with tension.
"You insolent brat!" Voldemort seethed, his eyes narrowing in contempt as he glared at Hadrian. "You've cost me my army and my followers. Today will begin my reign once I exterminate you." His voice dripped with venom, echoing off the stone walls around them.
In stark contrast, Hadrian burst into laughter, a sound so unexpected that it caused those around them to glance at each other in bewilderment. The audacity of his joy seemed to pierce the tension in the air. Meanwhile, Remus stood by, shaking his head with amusement and concern, watching his godson taunt the Dark Lord as if they were merely playing a game.
"Cub," Remus called out, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. It's time to finish what he started long ago. With Albus's assistance, we can see this is rough." His tone was firm, starkly contrasting to the chaos surrounding them.
Hadrian let out a loud, exuberant laugh filled with defiance and camaraderie. The echoes of his joy hung in the air, ringing like a challenge to the oppressive darkness that loomed before them.
Voldemort seethed silently, his face contorting with rage at their blatant disregard for his presence. The audacity of those before him was infuriating; they stood as if he were nothing more than an inconvenience, refusing to cower in fear as he had always demanded. It was a small rebellion against the power he claimed, and at that moment, the weight of his fury seemed to thicken the air around them.
"Of course, Remus," Hadrian replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. "But before we dive into the seriousness of the matter, let's have some fun, shall we? What do you think, Tom?" His words hung in the air, prompting a wave of shock and disbelief from Hermione, Ron, Molly, and the other members of the Order. They stared at him in astonishment, unable to reconcile this bold, playful figure with the young, severe man they were accustomed to. Their jaws practically dropped in unison, a testament to the transformation that had taken place before their eyes.
Voldemort's piercing gaze narrowed in irritation at Hadrian's audacity. "And that would be you, insolent brat?" he snapped sharply, his voice laced with impatience. Inwardly, Hadrian revelled at the moment, a smirk creeping onto his face as he confronted the dark wizard with unexpected confidence.
"Why you, Tom, you wounded me; we will have duels with one on one with each one of your Vampire Wizards while Werewolves will be fighting with others as your puppies are Wizards like your bloodsuckers, who are my friends and companions, once their duels are finished we will come face to face, you cannot stop or interfere yourself in any way till their duels are completed as such you are agreeing to the terms, I want an oath from you, and I will give myself one too, except you and me anyone duels anyone from both sides and don't be surprised that I called them that because I don't have anything against their races except these people as without anything they are going to lose their lives in under your withering rule which is going to end by this evening," Hadrian said smirking while Order and Ministry officials were looking at him in shock because they were not prepared for this. In contrast, his smirk resembles Remus's, Amelia's, Dora's, and his friends'.
"I, the Dark Lord Voldemort—" he began, his voice dripping with malice and authority, but Hadrian abruptly cut him off. With an exasperated shake of his head, Hadrian displayed his frustration, the flicker of annoyance in his eyes evident as he faced the looming figure before him.
"I'm neither a child nor an unwitting Albus Tom so that I won't take oaths lightly," Hadrian stated, his voice firm and unwavering. His piercing gaze swept over the crowd, feeling as though he were scolding a wayward child rather than confronting the formidable Dark Lord Voldemort himself. The tension crackled in the air as those present exchanged astonished glances, their shock palpable—save for a select few aware of the deeper layers at play.
Hadrian continued, his tone leaving no room for debate, "I want you to give your oath using your true name, not some clever anagram. It's Hadrian Potter-Black, and I want to clarify that my companions are not your followers or your servants; they stand beside me as equals. Is that understood?"
His eyes burning with a mix of fury and respect, Voldemort responded in grave acknowledgement. "I, Dark Lord Voldemort, once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, do solemnly swear on my magic and my life that every one of my followers will engage in a duel against Hadrian Potter-Black's companions—one duel to the death." His voice reverberated with ominous authority, a chilling promise echoing. "Furthermore, I swear that I will not interfere—directly or indirectly—until each of my followers has faced their opponent in combat. So I swear; so mote it be."
As Voldemort completed his vow, the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Hadrian nodded and accepted the oath, meeting his gaze with an unwavering resolve. The two turned their attention toward their respective followers, setting the stage for an uncertain and dangerous confrontation that would test the limits of loyalty, power, and survival.
"I know many of you didn't expect me to take this step," Hadrian called out, his voice steady but persistent. "But it's necessary. There has been a slight change in the wards we set up to contain the Werewolves. They can only be restrained until evening; they will gain unprecedented power when the moon rises. To prevent casualties, I've made this decision. Now, I urge all of you to step forward and join me in this fight. We are fighting for a future where generations can live in peace, prosperity, love, and free from the bigotry and racism that has plagued us for far too long."
As his words echoed through the cleared space, a surge of courage and determination swept over the crowd. Individuals began to step forward, some with expressions of shock etched on their faces. Among them were familiar figures: members from Slytherin like Blaise Zabini, Millicent Bulstrode, Theodore Nott, Tracey Davis, and Daphne Greengrass. From Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood stood with her dreamy gaze while Terry Boot, Padma Patil, Michael Corner, and Penelope Clearwater joined her, their expressions mirroring her stubborn spirit. Hufflepuff's champions—Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Ernie Macmillan, and Cho Chang—stood shoulder to shoulder, their determination unwavering. Gryffindor was not to be left behind; Oliver Wood, the mischievous twins George and Fred Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and the fierce Angelina Johnson, along with Alicia Spinnet and Lee Jordan, all rallied to the cause.
In the background, stalwart figures joined the ranks: Remus Lupin, Dora Tonks, Amelia Bones, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Auror Dwalish, and Lord Greengrass stood resolutely behind Hadrian. Professors and stalwarts of the wizarding world—Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, and Pomona Sprout—stood as a formidable presence alongside Alastor Moody, Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour-Weasley, and Charlie Weasley.
Seeing this diverse assembly unite, Hadrian allowed a small smile to break through, full of hope amidst the moment's gravitas. On the opposite side, Voldemort loomed, threatening his followers—urging them to win at all costs or face death. However, he underestimated the resolve of those gathered before him. These students, trained by Hadrian, stood ready to face his Death Eaters. Long ago, the experienced elders had grown weary of mere stunning spells and minor hexes; they were prepared to change the game's rules. Now, united as one, they were poised to turn the tide and wipe the floor with Voldemort's minions, fueled by conviction and camaraderie.
"I want Madam Poppy Pomfrey to be fully prepared in the hospital wing, stocked with all the healing potions and emergency Floo connections to St. Mungo's. This way, anyone participating in the duel will receive immediate care without delay. And there's no need to worry—despite being in the hospital wing, everyone can still witness the fierce duels and battles. I need everyone to focus; distractions will not help us today. We must carry faith in ourselves that we will emerge victorious, and if defeat must come, we will ensure that every last Death Eater falls with us. To the Future!" Hadrian's voice echoed with passion.
"To the Future!" the crowd responded, their voices blending into a chorus of determination.
As the countdown reached fifteen, the duels began with Remus stepping forward to face the vampire leader, Shane. The atmosphere crackled with intensity as spells erupted in vibrant streaks of colour, illuminating the darkened space. Amidst the chaos, Hadrian and Dora sat side by side, sharing a large bowl of popcorn, their laughter punctuating the tension as they cheered enthusiastically whenever Remus bested Shane. Remus danced around his opponent with almost magical agility, casting spells with increasing swiftness, while Shane struggled to keep pace. Remus struck the decisive blow in a final, breathtaking exchange, vanquishing Shane without a single scratch to show for it.
As the dust settled and the trials continued, Hadrian's allies erupted in triumphant cheers. It was now a stark reality—Voldemort, the Dark Lord himself, stood alone amidst the remnants of the duel, his expression a mix of shock and fury. His arrogance, however, made him dance in self-congratulation, revelling in newfound followers, convinced of his invincibility.
Once the duels concluded, the injured were ushered to the hospital wing. Only Hadrian and the Dark Lord remained on the battlefield, the air thick with tension. Hadrian, recognising the rage brewing within Voldemort, insisted that everyone retreat and shut the doors behind them. Just before entering, Remus had cast a translation spell on Hadrian, ensuring that their words would resonate beyond the closed doors, a reminder to all that they would never underestimate him again in the future.
"You know, Tom," Hadrian said, his voice steady yet devoid of warmth. A chill settled over the otherwise tense atmosphere. His face was an impenetrable mask, revealing nothing of the turmoil within. "You were right about what you claimed that day in the Ministry when you took control of me."
Voldemort lounged comfortably on his shadowy throne, a sadistic smirk creeping across his pale lips, his crimson eyes glinting like rubies in the dim light. That sinister glimmer radiated a twisted anticipation as if he relished the thought of drawing Potter deeper into his dark machinations. "And that would be?" he taunted, confidence swelling in his chest, convinced he had woven a web strong enough to trap the Boy Who Lived. How gravely mistaken he was.
"We are alike in so many ways, yet starkly different in others," Hadrian began, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. "You were born from the ashes of a loveless marriage between your mother, Merope Gaunt, and Tom Riddle Sr., a union devoid of affection. In contrast, my parents, Lily and James Potter, were bonded by a love that transcended the ordinary. Yet, despite our differing beginnings, neither of us experienced the joy of a proper childhood. Your mother perished in childbirth, while your actions resulted in the murder of my parents, all driven by that self-fulfilling prophecy—and I must say, that notion is utter nonsense in my eyes. We both grew up unloved, beaten, and feared, labelled as freaks because of our nature, a gift in our world where children born with magic are typically cherished.
Both of us have been mere pawns in Albus Dumbledore's grand designs, manipulated for his selfish ends, all in the name of the 'Greater Good.' But what truly sets us apart is the choices we've made. You embraced the path of darkness—the allure of lust, power, vengeance, and brutality—allowing your heart to grow cold and lonely. In contrast, I have chosen the light path filled with love, care, affection, and genuine friendships. My heart is tender, filled with support for those I cherish, and that humanity fuels my determination to fight.
For all these seventeen years, you have failed to kill me. Why? Because I cling to life with a profound purpose, a reason not to surrender—the love for my family, my soon-to-be wife, and the enduring presence of my parents, who, despite their absence in this world, still look after their child. My mother's love is woven into my very being in a way you will never know or appreciate. I pray that you will find the love you were denied in the next life," Hadrian declared, lifting his wand. With a swift motion, he cast his spells, sending them hurtling toward Voldemort, who was becoming increasingly weakened. His magic was undeniably weakening, diminished by the loss of his followers and the destruction of his Horcruxes.
"You cannot kill me, you fool; I am immortal!" Voldemort cackled, the sound spilling from his lips, only to falter as he heard Hadri's following words—each syllable striking him with horrified clarity.
"I have destroyed your Horcruxes, Tom," Hadrian proclaimed, confidence radiating from him. "I defeated that sixteen-year-old relic during my second year. Marvolo Gaunt's Ring was recovered by Dumbledore and destroyed by him. My uncle, Regulus Black, stole Salazar Slytherin's locket, and I shattered it with Gryffindor's Sword. As for Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, I obliterated it in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault with the help of the Goblins. The Rowena Ravenclaw Diadem fell to my hand in the Come and Go Room, and your familiar, Nagini, met her end at my wand.
And the final Horcrux, the piece of your wrath you unknowingly embedded in me on that fateful night when you attempted to kill me? That, too, was resolved by the Goblins. You see, Tom, there are no more Horcruxes. You are mortal, just like me and everyone else," Hadrian asserted, gracefully dodging the spells flying toward him, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes.
"Goodbye, Tom Marvolo Riddle," Hadrian shouted with determination, his voice resonating in the ancient halls of Hogwarts. In a powerful surge of magic, he called out, "Amor versus Oblivious Darkness, Mors et cor et anima," invoking the ancient chant in Latin. As he spoke, brilliant emerald and deep violet light erupted from the tip of his wand, swirling in the air like a mesmerising aurora. From this vibrant energy, magnificent creatures materialised: a stunning stag, elegant in its grace; a doe, embodying purity; and a fierce golden wolf and a shadowy black wolf, their forms charging resolutely toward Voldemort.
As the creatures enveloped him in a whirlwind of light and power, the air filled with the panicked shrieks of the dark wizard, echoing through the stone corridors of the castle. Within moments, the din faded, replaced by a profound silence. Where Voldemort once stood, there was only a smouldering pile of ashes, leaving behind the remnants of darkness that had haunted Hogwarts for far too long.
Hadrian stood amidst the aftermath of the conflict, a mixture of joy and relief washing over him as Ministry officials and workers tirelessly cleared away the fallen bodies of Death Eaters. The echoes of battle faded into a bittersweet silence, punctuated only by the rustling of cloaks and the hum of urgent conversations. Remarkably, the war had concluded without a catastrophic bloodbath, sparing his side from any casualties—a thought that brought a sense of gratitude to his heart.
Suddenly, a joyous squeal pierced the solemn atmosphere. Hadrian turned, his expression instantly brightening as he spotted his godson, Teddy, reaching out for him from the comforting embrace of Tonks. The sight was heartwarming; Teddy's wide, eager eyes sparkled with innocence and determination. As he watched his son's enthusiastic attempts to get closer to his godfather, laughter erupted from Remus, a sound that seemed to lift the spirits of those gathered. The scene transformed, their smiles breaking the moment's tension, reminding everyone that a flicker of hope and joy remained even in the shadow of darkness.
"Moony, how are you and Dora?" Hadrian inquired, cradling Teddy in his arms and gently kissing the little boy's forehead, feeling the warmth radiate from him.
"We are excellent, Cub, thanks to you," Remus replied, his voice rich with emotion. "Without this war, it would have been a bloodbath, claiming innocent lives and tearing apart families. If James, Sirius, and Lily were here today, they would have been immensely proud of you. And we are proud of you, too." He enveloped Hadrian in a tight hug that spoke of reassurance and love. Hadrian smiled, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he absorbed his Uncle's words.
"Thanks, Moony. I needed to hear that," Hadrian said softly, his gratitude palpable. Just then, the moment was gently interrupted as Minerva and Amelia approached, their presence pulling him back to the bustling surroundings.
"Harry—" Minerva began, her tone carrying a mixture of concern and affection, only to be swiftly cut off by Hadrian.
"Sorry to interrupt, Professor, but I go by Hadrian. Harry was never my name nor a nickname I have chosen. It was a label thrust upon me by Headmaster Albus for his so-called Greater Good Plan," he explained, his voice steady but firm as he looked back over his shoulder. "If you need confirmation, my Uncle Remus Lupin and my godparents, Andromeda and Ted Tonks, are right here."
As he spoke, he saw Tonks arrive. Her vibrant hair caught his eye as she scanned the room, searching for them amidst the crowd.
"Hadrian, it is decided then," Minerva said, her voice resonating with gratitude and wonder. "Thank you for taking this step. The way you chose to end the war is both mature and remarkable. It's truly heartening to see you return. But I must ask, how is it that members of Slytherin fought against the Dark Lord, considering they are often seen as his followers?"
Hadrian's expression darkened at her words. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before gently handing Teddy over to Remus. Turning on his heel, he positioned himself at the front of the room, ensuring he had the attention of everyone present.
"Traditionally, people view Dark Wizards as inherently evil," he began, his voice steady but tinged with passion. "But the reality is much more complicated. Dark, Light, and Grey—these labels don't define the magic itself; what counts is intent. Why does the entire wizarding community cling to outdated grudges against Slytherins? Why does nobody seem to understand that a wizard's or witch's descent into darkness is rooted in their choices rather than their blood status, house affiliation, or wand cores?"
He paused for effect, letting his words hang in the air. "Take Peter Pettigrew, for instance. He was a Gryffindor, celebrated as a 'Light Wizard,' yet became a traitor. He betrayed my family, revealing their location to the Dark Lord during the first war, which ultimately made me an orphan. Contrary to popular belief, it was not Sirius Black, my supposed godfather, who stood by me the way a father does.
"The Slytherins who fought alongside me today are not only my friends; they have been allies since I first set foot in Hogwarts. We played a façade, a careful act meant to divert attention away from us to safeguard ourselves and our future generations. Our predecessors suffered as their lives were consumed by prejudice and bigotry."
He took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over his audience, who watched him with wide eyes, a mix of awe and respect illuminating their faces. "Changes are coming to Hogwarts once the term resumes after Christmas. So prepare yourselves; a transformation is on its way."
Hadrian concluded his speech with his final words, leaving the room in hushed reverence. His family smiled knowingly, aware he was set to astonish the Wizarding World again and plunge it into stunned silence.
"Thank you, Lord Potter," Amelia began, her voice steady yet filled with deep gratitude. She stood before him, her gaze unwavering, and the ambience around them was thick with reverence. "Without your remarkable assistance—your unparalleled planning, combat skills, and cunning intellect—we would have undoubtedly succumbed to that monster threatening to obliterate our world. As the Minister of Magic, I find myself bowing before you again, compelled to acknowledge your extraordinary strength, boldness, resolute decisions, and the risks you've bravely undertaken to safeguard this realm. I speak not solely for myself, but for the entirety of the Wizarding World I represent."
As she finished her heartfelt declaration, she gracefully lowered her head in a deep bow. One by one, the official members of the Ministry and the Aurors accompanying her followed suit, their gestures echoing the sentiment of loyalty and respect. The collective appreciation in the air was palpable, and after a moment's pause, the students, professors, and other attendees echoed their acknowledgement, bowing deeply in solidarity.
Feeling the weight of their admiration, Hadrian briefly lowered his head before addressing the crowd again.
"There is no need for such gratitude," he said, his voice calm yet firmly resonating through the hall. "If anyone else had found themselves in my position, they would have acted similarly. According to prophecy, I was destined to defeat him, and fulfilling that duty was paramount. Even if fate hadn't dictated my role, I would have done it regardless, for he took everything from me: my parents, my godfather, my childhood, leaving me as an orphan. So truly, there is no need to thank me; I've merely eliminated my enemy."
With that, a profound silence enveloped the room as everyone bowed again before dispersing toward their respective dormitories. Hadrian then turned to Minerva, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he prepared to speak with her.
Amelia Bones, the Minister for Magic, leaned forward, her expression a mix of urgency and gratitude. "Hadrian, I know you orchestrated the daring rescue of all the students and muggle-borns from their grim camps. I must ask you, could you please arrange for someone to bring them back?"
Hadrian offered a nod, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Of course, Minister Bones. However, I must request that my involvement remains a secret until I deem it the right time to reveal it," he replied, his voice steady as he snapped his fingers, summoning attention with an air of authority.
A small, eager figure appeared in a burst of shimmering light. "Master Hadrian called for Winky, Dobby, and Kreacher?" Dobby chirped, bouncing on the tips of his toes with uncontainable joy. His large, expressive eyes danced with relief at seeing Hadrian unharmed, eliciting a soft chuckle from Hadrian.
"Yes, Dobby. I summoned you because I hoped you could gather all the children from the Manors whom you elves rescued, ensuring they are safe and healthy. Also, please compile a list of the captured muggle-borns and deliver it to Minister Bones," Hadrian instructed with a firm and kind tone. The house-elves nodded enthusiastically, disappearing with a crack before Hadrian turned his attention to Professor McGonagall.
"Professor," he said, his gaze steady and reassuring, "we will reconvene on the first day of the term. Until then, I wish you the most wonderful Christmas. And please tell the Headmaster it's time for him to come out from hiding; he can stop the charade of faking his death."
His words hung in the air, a bold declaration that surprised Minerva and the others. They stared at him, wide-eyed, disbelief etched on their faces. Minerva's shock was palpable as she realised that he knew the truth.