Chapter VII: An Interesting Conversation

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Hadrian had spent most of the rest of Saturday secluded away to himself after the long discussion he and Tom had had with Lucretia Black at the meal table; continuously researching various topics well into the late hours that he hoped would later help him develop a way to slow-down the progression of the Black Madness or other hereditary conditions like it.

He had had some form of fruit to his research, but not as much as he hoped. Mostly due to his lack of access to the Black Library at Grimmauld Place; and not daring to ask Orion to try and get him inside of it when months later he, Tom, and most of the young Black heiresses would seemingly disappear.

Being in another time did have disadvantages, after all...

Tom himself had seemed interested to learn of what Hadrian discovered and secretly hoped that his mate would let him try to help him with all this. But Hadrian had simply researched and kept most of his theories or ideas under wraps for now. Only mentioning that he had several of them that may lead to something to help later.

And that he may possibly need his help to test them or have a second opinion on the ideas if they failed; needed changed or altered to be successful.

Most of Sunday was used to do what little homework he had left for the week; having learned well from his other life to get it done sooner rather than later, to fire-call his manager at Gringotts and to begin the massive prep work that would need started on the Peverell Mansion; especially if it needed to be finished in a little less than half of a year, and then begin training harder for the road ahead.

Tom had been wide-eyed as he had entered Godric's rooms; only to discover that the previously unfinished training room was now done; completely and fully equipped or outfitted with everything he or Hadrian would need to practice their magic and or hone their bodies into full-fighting shape.

Tom had assumed that Hadrian had sway over the castle like he did as an heir to a founder; which helped the speed of how quick these modifications were done and or hiding them being done from those who didn't need to know. But Tom also knew that Hadrian likely had several goblins here secretly. Warding the several special places of Hogwarts left by the founders or other notorious former residents of the castle better without alerting the Headmaster or Albus to his doings, and helping set up the equipment.

Hadrian, it seemed, he had also promptly wasted absolutely no time in testing the equipment to ensure it was to his liking and satisfaction. Of utilizing it. Allowing Tom to saunter into the rooms...only to get the most heart-racing shock of his life as he entered the area.

Hadrian; that afternoon, he wore loose-fitting cotton pants that were tied at the waist. Yet, the fabric gave Tom no illusion to exactly how well-formed his legs, thighs, hips, and butt were. Tom swore that if anyone but himself had stumbled on this scene; he likely would be reeking with jealousy.

But it hadn't ended there. Oh no; for Hadrian's torso had been bare. Semi-tan skin slick with sweat and gleaming under the sunlight streaming in from the magical windows to the room. Lined with hard muscles that strained and rippled with every single movement he made.

Tom had a moment of uncomfortable shifting as he watched Hadrian silently; trying not to react.

He deftly was going to through sword forms and Tom's whole body heated up rather quickly as he watched Hadrian so easily maneuver the blade from one form into the next. As he used it to practice and as once more all of his fine muscles rippled, clenched, and more before his eyes.

As he then mixed hand-to-hand combat with his blade and mixed in magic as well.

It was clear then to Tom at exactly how out-classed he was by his mate in many areas; of how deficient the real education of their world had truly become. He watched his mate and continued to marvel at the form of Hadrian. All as his possessive nature silently reared and continually reminded him that he had to keep Hadrian as his.

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