Consuming Shadows

Chapter 9

Hadrian's eyes drifted to the side as he contemplated how to go about this. Clearly Riddle knew it was him that night, and from the look on the man's face, he doubted the professor would allow him to wriggle his way out of this.

It was annoying that he had been found out – but it was not necessarily the end of the world. He could still work with this.

Riddle was scarily intelligent, and he was dangerous because, unknowingly or not, he held Hadrian's life in his hands right now.

If he could not convince the man to let go of this...if he went to the authorities with a claim that he had found Hadrian alone with the goblet, then no amount of skill or manipulations would stop his true name from being revealed.

An auror investigation into his life would uncover some discrepancies in their story and everything would unravel.

The world would discover that the Potter heir was still alive, and masquerading as a Beauxbatons student.

Gods, Voldemort would find out. And while Hadrian was granted some measure of protection in Britain due to be an international guest, he doubted something as flimsy as the law would stop the Dark Lord from killing him.

That could not be allowed to happen.

Which meant, Hadrian mused as he returned his gaze to the man in front of him, that as of two minutes ago, Riddle had become the biggest threat to his life.

Excitement sparked through his veins at the thought. Hadrian swallowed and clenched his right hand around his bag strap to stop the emotion from showing on his face.

It would not work, trying to talk his way out of this without revealing some facts. He would have to be very careful with what he said around this man. Because something told him that even the slightest hint of weakness would only entice the professor to look closer.

"Well, Mr. Evans? I'm waiting to be regaled by your tale of tampering with the goblet."

Hadrian's eyes sharpened, his posture straightened and he met the man's gaze steadily. He ensured his occlumency shields were firmly in place just in case Riddle knew how to read his mind.

Or course, he had more than shields protecting his thoughts from prying fingers, but no defence was infallible. And he had no idea how many languages Riddle himself knew...

There was no way around it. He would have to let out some of his secrets, but if it helped him get out of this situation then Hadrian knew it was a necessary risk.

Besides, he had an advantage.

Riddle was fascinated by him. It was obvious from the way the man had been so intently focussed on him ever since Hadrian had stepped onto the duelling platform.

Even now, the way the man had chosen to confront him rather than take his knowledge to the authorities betrayed his interest.

The man was unconsciously giving him a chance to explain himself because he was intrigued and he wanted to know more.

He could use that fascination against Riddle to win this little round.

"You are right, Professor. I was in the Great Hall that night." There, he had admitted it, incriminating himself. Riddle's gaze was heavy, expectant. "But I was not trying to influence the goblet, as you think."

"Then what, pray tell, were you doing?"

Hadrian gave a little grin, boyish and impenitent. "Satisfying my curiosity. Surely an academic man such as yourself could understand that at least, sir?"