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32.25% The Chosen one who goes dark / Chapter 20: Soar

Chapter 20: Soar

The highly anticipated Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor quickly outshone Millicent's illuminating challenge. Her injuries around her neck healed with a burn salve given to her by an entertained seventh year. Her embarrassment worked better than flesh eating slug repellent, Adrian had barely seen her in days.

Hermione seemed more vocal and courageous after the Slytherin stunt. Often she searched him out just to compare essays or other meager requests. Through mutual 'friends', he had slowly been introduced to more Gryffindors. The Weasley Twins enjoyed his deal service and often asked questions on the parameters, although nothing had been agreed on. Adrian had a small suspicion he'd have to start figuring out how to owl order alcohol into the castle.

Draco had become grouchier, sleep deprived and anxious for the first match. Daphne had cast delicate charms to disguise the bags under his eyes, clicking her tongue at his horrid state all the while.

The Saturday morning of the match, the entire Slytherin team vanished from the dorms. Blaise assured the frantic Pansy, that it was simply a house tradition. Bad luck to the team if they were spotted out of uniform.

As eleven O'clock drew closer and tensions rose alongside, the entire school drifted to the cloudy outdoors and onto the tall stands surrounding the field. A few spells were casted by the Hogwarts official, to redirect lightning in the unfortunate chance the sky became muggy halfway through.

Pansy had latched herself onto Adrian's arm, searching for the first replacement for Draco she could find. Her hair was pinned up to her head and bounced with her excited footsteps as she guided him onto the pitch.

"Dray is amazing," She swooned, anxiously rambling to dispel her own worry, "He's so fast..."

"Do you play, Adrian?" Daphne asked, looking more dignified with her reserved walk, "I don't believe I've heard your stories."

Adrian grimaced slightly and selected his words mindfully, "I am... aware, of the rules and regulations. I know how to fly a broom, although I haven't since I was very young."

Daphne hummed, kicking a smell pebble with her foot, "So your biological parents were purebloods?"

Adrian stopped walking sharply; this caused Pansy to squawk out as she nearly tripped. Daphne continued walking a few steps, pausing before looking over her shoulder with a carefully formed bored expression.

The hairs on Adrian's neck rose as he scrutinized the pureblood heir before him. Caution and paranoia twisted his stomach into an uneasy misshapen knot.

"I believe that is personal, Greengrass."

Daphne smiled politely with the grace and poise of a trained woman, "My mistake, Adrian. I wasn't aware you consider any information too personal," her eyes shifted flintily, "or perhaps the proper coin is in order for your trade?"

Pansy whined loudly, tugging pettily at Adrian's sleeve. Her determination to get to the stands halted the confrontation and the imminent argument, despite how artfully Daphne phrased it.

The crowd of older students near the base slid apart to allow the three to meet with Theo, Crabbe, and Goyle, already near the top of the bleachers. Theo wore a thick green scarf which emphasized the thin hollows of his cheeks.

"Where's Draco?" Pansy inquired, rising onto the tips of her feet to try and see Draco on the pitch. The distance rendered the entire team as a collection of indistinct blurs of green and silver.

Once the Gryffindors walked onto the pitch, swathed in gold and crimson, they were greeted by cheers and applause; Slytherin house began hissing loudly in mockery.

The match began instantly; Draco flew well and agilely on his new broom, a platinum haired streak of speed and acrobatics.

Not long thereafter, the sky gurgled behind angry dark clouds. The weather shifted, and released buckets of shivering cold rain.

Pansy squealed, raising the hood of her cloak to try and protect her hair and skin. Adrian grimaced and followed suit. Against his best efforts, the rain plastered his hair flat to his head. Daphne tilted her wand upwards and casted a translucent umbrella to protect her corn silk hair.

Theo twitched, splashing water off his face onto Goyle who blinked dumbly at the suddenly cold.

"That bludger sure does like Potter," Blaise muttered, squinting through the rain with enhanced binoculars. He was mutely surprised Blaise had enough foresight to charm them against the rain; Adrian could barely see the seeker's shape in the sky.

"Did someone charm it?" Daphne frowned, peering from under her umbrella, "It's not moving properly."

Pansy sniffed insulted, "it's not like Draco needs help-"

Adrian frowned and tilted his head curiously. He hadn't ever refreshed his memory on the rules of Quidditch; what small tidbits he knew were mostly the simplified versions for children. Obviously tampering with any of the equipment would be a huge regulation, especially with how dangerous the sport already was.

"Looks strange, don't it?" Theo muttered out loud absentmindedly. He nudged Adrian in his side eagerly, "It looks pretty strange-"

There was a hollow gasp throughout the stadium as Skylar's outstretched arm was smashed into by a bludger. Although Adrian couldn't discern the action, the announcer was rapid fire explaining how the bludger had broken its spellwork to execute such a maneuver. Someone had tampered with the equipment.

Draco didn't let the clear sign of tampering disturb him. He swept in quickly, his naturally skinnier body slid past Skylar's with ease.

Pansy jerked beside him, placing her hands on her hips as her face puckered in a look of irritation. Other students glanced back to locate him in the rain, eyeing him curiously.

"I didn't do anything," Adrian defended sourly," I have no deals for enchanting a bludger. I honestly don't know the rules of Quidditch that well."

"We best fix that, get you on a broom." Theo responded distractedly, his eyes locked on Skylar who was now on the ground. The final whistle was called as Draco ensnared the golden sphere, triggering the end of the match. The teaching staff swept onto the field, Lockhart was distinguishable by his bright yellow robes.

"You'd like to see that, wouldn't you?" Adrian grunted, rising onto the tips of his shoes to look over the other heads, "Me on a broom, I have better things to do."

Theo's mouth quirked into a shark like grin, "Eight sickles Draco takes you flying."

Adrian turned and looked at Theo with a distinctly unimpressed expression, "You just want to see me look like an idiot."

Theo shrugged although he was genuine as he spoke.

"I actually just want to see you fly. Can't imagine you doing it, and Merlin knows it would cheer up Draco. Maybe liven things up a bit around here since all that Chambers of Secrets shite."

"I don't think you can fly," Daphne added in charmingly, "I'll throw in a Galleon."

Theo gave Adrian a meaningful look.

"That's a bit of gold there, Harry."

Adrian flinched violently and glared at Theo, "Don't call me that."

Daphne tilted her head in a formal nod and smiled.

Gryffindor won the match unfortunately even while Skylar suffered the consequence of Lockhart's mediocre excuse of spell work. The scored points before Draco ended the match leant in Gryffindor's favor.

The Slytherin team instead told stories of Skylar's unfortunate ailment over and over, each retelling becoming more and more preposterous. It was shared in the common room with laughter and smuggled pints of Butterbeer; they may have lost but Potter was trapped in Hospital Wing for a week.

Draco, once informed by a suave Greengrass, was thrilled with Adrian's deal. As unorthodox as it was in comparison to Adrian's usual careful bartering, he was rather trapped in. Galleons for humiliation and ridicule.

Hermione had better enjoy those premium ingredients, that's what those coins were being used for.

Adrian was escorted outside onto the Quidditch pitch by a small train of eager bystanders. Most were other yearmates, although a few fifth years and Ravenclaws trailed behind.

They didn't have any of the Quidditch team's balls or equipment, the team was rather paranoid with meddling after someone bewitched the Gryffindor's bludger to target Skylar. Instead, Daphne offered to shoot sparks or other illusions into the air for Draco to weave between. The intention was to teach Adrian the finer aspects of flying, although Draco could only avoid flaunting for so long.

"You hold the broom like this," Draco instructed, grasping his broom in a peculiar fashion, "Although I always have a reverse grip since it makes it easier to dive suddenly..."

Adrian glanced pitifully at Theo. Theo shook a handful of coins in his fist, rattling them audibly.

Pansy handed the spare broom to Adrian. It was one of the Nimbus Two Thousand and One's, sleek and more streamline than anything Adrian had ever used. Likely more expensive than the entire Gryffindor team's stock put together.

Racing and Quidditch brooms were built with a series of safeguards and regulations. Knowing the Slytherin team, Adrian wouldn't be surprised if all those securities were disabled.

Bellatrix was going to kill him if he fell.

Draco mounted his broom with well-practiced ease and secured his hands in the unique grip. He settled and watched Adrian patiently although expectantly.

Adrian tightened his fist unsurely on the broom- it felt too flimsy to support his weight.

He could only imagine Lutain laughing at him, the snake would be nearly hysterical at Adrian's uncharacteristic fear.

With a slow exhale and a few internal curse words, he stepped over the tail end of the broom. His foot secured on the other side. Now straddling the charmed wood, he glanced at Draco who visibly brightened at seeing his cooperation.

Draco hunched forward slightly, keeping his feet firmly on the ground although poised r to jump at a moment's notice; Adrian mimicked his position although he didn't find it by any means comfortable.

"Push off with your feet, careful not to yank up on the broom." Draco advised, gently floating into the air in demonstration. He overemphasized his movements, showing how to twist and angle his direction.

Adrian pushed off with a feather light hop. There was a gut-wrenching moment where Adrian was sure he was going to teeter sideways and crash to the ground.

The broom held him aloft, he released the breath he had been holding.

Draco slid next to Adrian and reached across to angle the broom handle upwards. Adrian followed the movement, marveling as they begin ascending higher into the air.

The miniscule crowd below cheered as they finally reached the bottom rim of the lowest goal post.

"You're not bad at this," Draco noted relaxed. He withdrew his hand, slinking back several paces to allow Adrian to spin in a lazy circle.

"Not bad at spinning like a show-kneazle?" Adrian dryly snarked, unsettled by all the eyes watching his movements.

Adrian tested the brooms capabilities to sharply rise. The broom handle jerked upwards and smacked into his face, nearly triggering a bloody nose.

Draco chuckled at the movement, darting forward to grab his shaft and tug it back parallel to the ground below.

It took half an hour for Adrian to adequately maneuver the broom. At such a point Draco tailed him through small turns and dives.

"Want to make this more fun?" Draco asked, pulling out a galleon from his pocket. The large golden coin caught the mid-afternoon sun and shone brightly.

Adrian bitterly thought how unfair it was that all purebloods had so many galleons to throw around.

Draco dropped it.

Adrian watched the gold plummet, in horror. With a split second of hesitation, he pondered the benefit of chasing the coin. It was highly unlikely that he would be injured, especially with Draco watching so avidly. Without thinking any further on the matter, Adrian shoved the hand highest on the broom downwards with his body weight. It turned, nearly flipping him off his mount. The sudden direction change was nauseating, as well as the sudden acceleration. He blinked rapidly, searching for the falling coin desperately.

He caught up to the falling coin in seconds utilizing the broom's spectacular speed Adrian hadn't realized how high the two had ascended; his sudden dive still granted him plenty of time to pull out of the movement.

Draco was at his side instantly, "Not bad." Draco appraised with good intent.

Adrian glared and exhaled through his nose slowly to quell his churning stomach, "I don't think Quidditch is for me."

"Shame, you have a good build for seeker, although terrible posture. Maybe you could be my understudy."

Adrian threw the galleon at Draco's head.

They kept up at it for an exhaustingly long while, until Adrian's ears were burning from the sudden climbs and falls through the air. Draco's eyes were looking red. They hadn't brought any of the protective goggles.

Once Adrian got past investing his trust in a stick of enchanted wood, flying was amazing.

He wondered why they hadn't created a spell for flying without the aid of a creature or a broom. The ability to twist in the air unaided like a thunderbird would be something of legends.

The duo landed, Adrian stumbling more so than Draco. Adrian received his money from Theo and Daphne, counting it absentmindedly on the palm of his wind torn hand.

He was still enclosed in the dizzying exhilarating of flying, the blinding rush that falling unaided somehow triggered. His stomach wasn't following the same sort of euphoria; in fact, it was protesting loudly to his recklessness in sick murmurs and short acting cramps.

"You've flown before," Daphne mentioned calmly. Too calmly.

Adrian hadn't caught it, mind struggling out of its trance. Daphne tilted her head curiously, eyes wide in innocent fascination. "Were you better than your brother?"

"Merlin no, I-" Adrian cut off, sharply, his tone and word faltering as rapidly as he had said them. His mind caught up, snapping into its state of normal awareness as he registered her question.

Oh, Merlin no.

Theo's eyes widened as he looked between the two in shock, "But I thought you were an orphan?"

The tension flying had released returned with the viciousness of an entrapped cobra.

Draco stepped between the pureblood and Adrian. He raised his wand subtly, in a pointed warning. "This isn't the time or the place..."

There was an indiscernible sound in the distance, growing louder in its repetitiveness. A single form raced down from the castle, repeating Draco's name over and over.

Millicent's eyes were wide with a mixture of fear and excitement, like a child caught smuggling something dangerous. Her nostrils flared as she breathed heavily, repeating over and over her mantra as she grew closer.

"Breathe," Draco sighed, looking shrewdly unsettled by her composure, "What do you want?"

"They found another frozen! But this time it's a kid!" She gasped out between heavy pants.

"What?" Daphne gasped, hand flying to her mouth in surprise, "A student?"

"A Gryffindor first year," Millicent nodded, looking very pleased despite her exhaustion, "The kid who took photos. Get this- his camera? It melted."

Theo looked alarmed and looked at Adrian with growing dread, "You know any monster that does that?"

Adrian blinked and shook his head, in surprise. His head struggled to catch up, drawing a blank under the expectant expressions. "A- A Zorono? A persian dragon...any drawings of it will combust but this?" Adrian trailed off awkwardly, nearly flushing in embarrassment. He truly didn't know any sort of beast that damaged magical film.

Theo gulped, and Adrian felt annoyingly helpless.

"We're Slytherin's, right?" Theo hopefully contributed, "So it won't attack Slytherin students, yeah?"

Once again, eyes were on him for answers to something he didn't know.

"I don't know-"

Adrian paused and felt a disgustingly surreal sensation of something sliding out of his skin.

"I've sent a letter to my father," Draco sniffed, "I haven't gotten an owl back."

"Neither I." Pansy scowled, tapping her foot against the ground impatiently.

Adrian tried not to squirm as he felt something emerge completely out of his waist; it encircled his body twice before it moved towards and around his thigh.

"On the bright side," Millicent spoke up, having finally regained her breath, "I heard Lockhart is making a duelling club,"

"Are you serious?" Draco blinked, before his eyes alit with something devious, "Chances to mess with the Gryffindors? Oh, this will be memorable."

"Gotta stock up on humiliating spells," Theo chimed in, wriggling in place excitedly. His anxiety behind the attack had vanished, or at least seemed to be repressed.

"I'd love to see Potter barf slugs." Pansy sighed dreamily, clinging to Draco's arm with a malicious grin.

Millicent looked grudgingly at Adrian, "You know any good spells?"

Adrian's mind whirred quickly. Spells, he knew spells.

Something embarrassing or humiliating...something that would take a considerable amount of time to reverse…

Slowly a smile spread across his face. It was disconcertingly dark, "I have an idea actually."

Adrian returned to his room and locked the door behind him. He immediately approached the large mirror- something Theo transfigured, and removed his clothing.

He threw his cloak and shirt onto the bed with reckless abandon. Torchlight shimmered over his skin, reflecting off undulating scales of magic ink. The Nagini tattoo flexed accordingly, her head trailed over his ribs and stomach.

"Master?" Lutain slid out of the hole on the side of his heated crate, "You are back from being a bird?"

Adrian didn't he trailed his own fingers over the inked head of Nagini. Although there was no textural difference, she arched into his touch.

"Hello," Adrian hissed, considering the mirror directly to see the reptilian eyes, "What are you doing here Nagini?"

She flickered her tongue, "Message."

Its hiss was distorted and feminine, not at all like the serpent's real voice.

"From my father?" Adrian inquired with the barest traces of longing. He hadn't been in contact with the man, he hadn't spoken to it as often as he desired. He wanted to ask and learn so much, but not through these circumstances. There was something about using a messenger engraved into his own flesh, that felt somehow violating.

"Did Bellatrix get my owl?"

It paused in thought, hindered by its low intelligence. It was surreally like speaking to Lutain the first time he had met the serpent.

"Chamber of Secrets open before."

Adrian gasped audibly in surprise. Of course it had, it would have had to be in history at some point if it was making such a ruckus.

"When? I thought only the Heir of Slytherin could open it... Is there another heir? There's a monster I heard in the walls..." Adrian trailed off, growing more uncomfortable with the conversation the longer it was one sided.

"Open long ago." it whispered simply, "No open now."

Oh Merlin, it's intelligence was even worse than Lutain. It didn't seem to have trouble comprehending information, although Adrian couldn't be certain of how much was being recited.

"Why not now?" A different voice hissed curiously.

Lutain had slid over, able to comprehend the hisses of the mark and respond accordingly.

"Why can't the chamber open now?" Lutain ventured to ask, flicking his own tongue close enough to tickle Adrian's navel.

The tattoo peered at Lutain curiously from beneath Adrian's flesh.

"No speak. Speak open chamber."

Adrian furrowed his brow and chewed his lip thoughtfully.

"A speaker must open the chamber? There's another speaker in Hogwarts?"

The tattoo flicked its tongue as it took moments to register Adrian's word. It nodded politely, resulting in a perturbing sensation of movement pushing against his abdomen.

"The monster is a snake," Lutain hissed gleefully, enamored with the possibility of another beast.

"A large serpent of noble kind! Master!"

Things weren't matching up. Only the Heir of Slytherin could open the chamber… that required whoever it was to be a Parselmouth. If the ability to speak parseltongue was a direct lineage skill, which it seemed to be, it would imply that Adrian was now the Heir of Slytherin. Unless it was inherited as a title, where it could only be bestowed by another speaker already.

But Adrian had met Lutain before he was ever adopted by his father. Did that mean that there were more parseltongue speakers out there? Adrian was under the impression the gift was incredibly rare.

"Tell my father," Adrian paused hesitantly. What did he want to say to the man? What was there to say?

If parseltongue marked a distinct trait of the Heir of Slytherin, and the one who opened the Chamber had to be a speaker...

"Lutain," Adrian breathed excitedly, his mind whirred with the perfect way to ridicule Potter.

"I need you to do a favour."


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