Consuming Shadows

Chapter 26

Hadrian watched quietly through the window as the snowfall continued.

His elbow was beginning to ache from where it was perched on the sill, the added weight from his chin in his palm driving the joint into the corner; but he was oddly calm right now, and had little desire to emerge from his bubble.

It had felt like a lifetime since he had had a chance to just sit and relax.

From the moment he had found out about the tournament, he had been stressed or frantically thinking about something.

How to avoid being champion. How to beat the tasks. How to avoid notice from Voldemort. How to outmanoeuvre Riddle. How to keep his mother safe from the axe precariously swinging above her fragile neck.

It was one thing after another, with barely a chance to breathe.

And yet, right now, despite everything he still had to deal with – Skeeter, Riddle, the Order, his mother – he was nothing but content to watch the snow.

Next to him, Albert sat. The other boy was humming soothingly, reading through several letters as they waited for the sun to set.

Classes had finished almost an hour ago, and most of their schoolmates had joined them in returning to the warmth of the carriage.

Hadrian watched as a group of students – Hogwarts, from their black robes - started throwing snowballs at each other. He smiled lightly at their innocent faces.

He loved winter. He loved the cold. He loved the absolute blankness of the snow, wiping over everything.

He sighed longingly.

At Beauxbatons, it rarely snowed.

Despite being located in the Pyrenees, the wards encompassing the mountain-carved castle kept the academy and its surroundings pleasantly warm. They could look out and see the snowfall, but none of it crossed the barrier.

This was nice.

Hogwarts was stunning normally, blinding people with its unique brilliance. The way the sun glossed over the thousand glass windows and turned the aged stone a beautiful golden shade. It never failed to captivate his eyes and his breath.

But there was something positively magical about Hogwarts covered in snow.

He sighed again, wistfully.

Hadrian loved Beauxbatons. He loved it fiercely, and viewed it as more his home than their house could ever be. But Hogwarts was special to him too, and represented something he wanted yet could never have.

I could have gone here. He thought privately. This could have been mine.

There was the familiar sting of bitterness he always had at the thought of going to Hogwarts. Though it was far fainter than ever before.

He wondered if he was just beginning to not care anymore.

Albert stopped humming.

Hadrian blinked, and drew his eyes away from the gorgeous vision just outside to glance at his friend.

Albert stared at the letter in his hand, face unusually serious. It was unopen, and from his angle, Hadrian could not catch sight of the writing on the front.

He frowned, a little curious. "Something wrong?" He asked softly.

Albert looked at him, face swiftly changing into something vaguely troubled, before a slightly grim smile clawed at his lips. "A letter from my aunt." Was all he said.