The Allure of Darkness

Faith (Part I)

Slytherin Dormitory [April 24th]

Neville let out a strangled sort of noise at Hermione's accusation. He shook his head vehemently, "We're not lying. We're not–" He grimaced, "We're not Death Eaters."

"Oh really?" Hermione sneered, "Then what are you? Junior Death Eaters?"

"Now that's just insulting," Blaise complained. He scratched his head, "I prefer the term 'Death-Eater adjacent'."

"That's not a real thing," Hermione's brows knit together in disbelief. "You cannot seriously go around calling yourselves that."

"Of course not," Draco shot Blaise an annoyed look, "Look– "

"I just want to know the truth," She demanded, staring at her so-called friends. Her shoulders nearly trembled in righteous anger as she spat, "I think you owe me that much, at least."

Hadrian peered at her thoughtfully from across the room for a moment. Though he was wary of telling his muggleborn friend everything, he had always known that he couldn't hide the truth from her forever. She was, after all, the brightest witch of their age. Eventually he knew that she would figure it out.

And she had been right, none of them were particularly subtle.

Sensing he really had no other choice, he let out a heavy sigh. Daphne squeezed his hand, allowing him to relax ever so slightly as he settled back into the cushy armchair.

"To be clear," He began quietly, "We technically aren't Death Eaters. Death Eaters were my father's soldiers."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Your father as in," She paused and forced out, "You-Know-Who?"

Hadrian felt a hint of surprise flicker across his face. "How did you– "

"It wasn't particularly hard," She interrupted him. "I never believed you were an orphan for even a second. You know orphans don't wear 300 galleon shoes, right?"

She rolled her eyes. "Even if the Malfoys supposedly raised you, it didn't make sense to me. I knew something was off all the way back in first year. But I decided to do some digging before forming any kind of theory. I wanted to know who you were. It took me all of two weeks in the library to connect you to the elusive Tom Riddle."

"Two weeks?" Neville repeated with a frown. He looked up at Destiny, "But it took me all of first year to figure it out."

She hid a smile and patted his hand soothingly, "I know, sweetie."

"I tried to ask myself why you would keep that from me," Hermione continued, as though Neville hadn't spoken. "Why would anyone lie about being an orphan?"

"Sympathy points with the ladies," Blaise answered. He looked up when he realized everyone was staring at him in silence. He crossed his arms defensively across his chest, "What? You asked."

"I think it was a rhetorical question, Blaise," Daphne shook her head at him.

"Well maybe next time you should specify that," He mumbled to himself, gesturing towards Hermione, "Carry on."

"It just didn't make sense to me," Hermione frowned. "In second year, I tried to do more research into this 'Tom Riddle' but I couldn't find any more information. It was as though history had completely erased his very existence."

"So, then what? You went back to the library?" Draco smirked knowingly.

"No," She scowled at him. "Hadrian actually gave me a new lead. He quite literally handed me the answer to all my questions."