𝙿𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎𝚜 - 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦 | ✔︎

Chapter 44

"Umbridge is at it again," whispered Adrian as he and Natasha sat together in Charms. They were currently revising all of the Silencing Charms from first to seventh year and had decided to sit together after Natasha realised none of her friends were taking the class.

"I heard some chatter from Draco, is it true she's creating a student group with more power than our prefects?" Natasha asked quietly, trying not to disrupt the others around them. Adrian looked around cautiously, in case the toad-faced woman was somehow in the room, before nodding.

"She recruited all of the pure-blooded fifth year Slytherin's, as well as some naïve Ravenclaw boy who is in every club," he said back, jotting down some theory. "I can't believe she had so much power now, more than Dumbledore."

Natasha sighed and sat back in her bleacher seat, shaking her hand as it cramped slightly. "If she manages to get rid of him, she can do anything, and now we can't even protect the younger kids from her punishment, or we'll be accused of some shit," Natasha explained, loosening her tie slightly.

The cold bite of winter was slowly going away, so she ditched her jumper, opting for the cardigan many fifth-year kids started wearing. "My mum is saying weird things now in her letters too, like 'he's waiting for you Adrian'. I'm terrified to go home this summer," Adrian admitted, and Natasha grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at her.

"I will take you to my house personally Adrian, all you have to do is ask and I can see what I can do. There's things I can't tell you, but my house will always be there for you, and we can both apply for Auror traineeships together," Natasha promised.

Adrian gulped and closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. "If I do choose to go home with you, will I be in danger?" he asked, searching her eyes for any trace of a lie.

"Adrian, I cannot promise you safety when our world is becoming darker by the minute, but I can promise you that I will never judge you, plus, Fred and George have plans to open a shop with Harry's Triwizard earnings, and I'm sure we'll be able to set up a spare room for you. No one would suspect you staying with three Gryffindors, especially 'blood traitors', such as Fred and George," Natasha stated, using bunny fingers for blood traitors.

Adrian smiled gently at Natasha, and she smiled back, just in time for Flitwick to dismiss the class. "Consider my offer Adrian, we'd be delighted if you came home with us," Natasha said, before turning on her heel to meet Fred, who was waiting by the door.

Adrian waved, before heading down to the Slytherin common room, eager to get away from the beady eyes of students who wished for drama. He passed Draco and his friends, who all nodded swiftly towards him.

He despised all of their parents, especially Lucius Malfoy, but he couldn't help but feel sorry for the next generation, who would no doubt be recruited by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the upcoming summer.

He muttered the password quietly, the words rolling off of his tongue like foul eggs. He was a perfect example of the common saying about Slytherins.

Not every Slytherin is bad, but all bad wizards come from Slytherin.

Sure, he had a cold Slytherin front that he put on when provoked by the odd Gryffindor or two, but inside, he was a kind-hearted boy clawing to surface.

He slipped past some sixth-year girls who were gossiping on the couches, glad for his private dorm which had many enchantments on it thanks to some advice from Natasha. Unlike Natasha however, his dorm was nowhere near as cosy.

It was emerald all over, apart from the cold stone floor, which became even colder thanks to the Black Lake which was right outside of his windows. Only a bed, chest of drawers and small desk resided in his room, and a shower, toilet and sink occupied his bathroom.

His eyes swept over the growing pile of letters from his mother and father, as well as the strange green letters that had no sender identified. He was yet to open these, fearing a curse could be contained inside, as no fire spell could destroy them.

Suddenly, a barn owl with auburn feathers flew into his room via the window, which he never closed due to his claustrophobia. In it's talons sat a white envelope, with handwriting so distinct that Adrian just tore it open.

"You must be Pumpkin then?" Adrian asked the owl, as he tipped it with some leftover food. Pumpkin hooted in response and Adrian ruffled her feathers, allowing for the owl to perch on his bed.

He flipped open the parchment and began to read.

Dear Adrian,

This is Pumpkin, my owl that I was telling you about a while ago. She stays up in the owlery most of the time, so if you ever need to talk to me and I'm not around, she's your girl. Fred and George are happy to house you in their new shop during summer, so if you wish to come back with us, send your letter via Pumpkin, and we'll arrange everything for you.

See you tomorrow,

Natasha

Adrian smiled at the letter, before looking over to his empty parchment. He knew that once he made a decision, there would be no going back, and either option meant he would be putting himself in danger.

On one hand, he could reject Natasha's offer, and head back to the safety of his family. He would be protected from any Ministry inquiries, he would have lavish meals every night, and enough money to buy thousands of mansions.

But he would be on the path to becoming a Death Eater.

No matter what Cornelius Fudge said, Adrian knew the Dark Lord was back. His parents had practically confirmed it, the gloating of the pure-blooded Slytherins had confirmed it. His life would be at risk and he would lose the trust of his only real friend, Natasha.

On the other hand, he could accept the girl's offer, and head back with people who were willing to accept him for who he was. He would be happy, and healthy, and he would feel free.

But his family would come after him, and ultimately come after Natasha, who had so much pain on her plate already.

But Natasha was safe.

With his mind made up, he got to his parchment, dipping his black feather quill in his pristine ink pot. It tore him apart knowing that there was a large chance he would never see his mother or father again, but he knew the best decision for him was leaving now, not later.