A True Riddle

Chapter 1 - Truth

He is studying. Well, trying to study is more like it. The paper that Professor Sprout had set on the Mimbulus Mimbletonia has kept him up, despite the tiredness drawing at his eyes. When the blast of power echoes through the Slytherin common room he sits up straight, only one word on his mind: Hadrian. The boy that had been stolen from him. He isn't entirely sure where the name comes from, or who the person is. He is only vaguely sure that he has to find Hadrian and protect him.

Leaping up, he rushes through the corridors, ignoring the grumbling portraits as they are disturbed. He follows a faint thread that he wasn't even aware of until a few seconds ago. He follows it up through the winding hallways until he reaches one, he can feel that he is almost there. Standing halfway down the hallway is the hunched shape of Harry Potter. No. That isn't right. He shakes his head, as if to dislodge a memory. It's Hadrian, not Harry. With a small gasp the pale boy rushes forward, catching Hadrian as he falls to the ground.

Just as he is about to hit the ground, pale hands catch Harry's shoulders.

"Hadrian." At the word whispered in his ear Harry looks up in surprise, at the face of Draco Malfoy. He leaps back, ashamed that Draco has seen him like that.

"It's okay." Draco quietly murmurs, his hands held out in front of him. Harry presses his back to the cold wall behind him, "Stay away from me." He tries to hiss, but he can't say it with the derision that is usually saved for Draco. Draco ignores him and continues walking forward, so Harry raises his clenched fists, completely forgetting about magic for a moment.

"You're such a muggle." Draco quietly laughs for a moment, studying Harry's raised hands, suddenly the small grin fades from his face and he leaps forward, grabbing Harry's hand. The one engraved with words. "What is this?" He hisses, staring at the pale words.

"I-It's nothing." Harry stammers, trying to wrestle his hand back. He curses himself for stammering in front of Draco, his worst enemy, who, he just realised, he has now begun calling Draco, not Malfoy. But something had happened, something in him had been unlocked, and now he craves for Draco's touch, instead of hating it.

"It is not nothing." Draco replies, not letting Harry get his hand back. Understanding dawns on his face as he registers where they are. "Was it her?" He spits, glancing back in the direction of Umbridge. Despite not wanting to answer, Harry feels compelled to, so he sheepishly nods. Anger flashes across Draco's face. "Come with me." He says in a deceptively calm voice. Harry has no choice but to follow as Draco turns and drags him by his hand.

When they reach the stretch of wall that Harry recognises as the entrance to the Slytherin common room from year 2, Draco whispers something under his breath, too quietly for Harry to hear. But the door obviously registers as it opens slowly. Revealing the regal, green and silver common room. Draco drags him through the room, ignoring the curious looks from the few students still up. When they reach a room that Harry guesses is Draco's he can't help but look around, noting the tidily made bed and folded clothes. But Draco ignores all of this, instead grabbing a small jar of green powder from his bedside. He temporarily lets go of Harry's wrist to throw a pinch of the powder into a fire. "Malfoy Manor." He says clearly. The flames spit and turn green as Draco once again grabs Harry's wrist and drags him into the fire.

"Draco? What are you doing here? And why is he here?" Lucius Malfoy's sneering voice greets Harry as he reorientates himself.

"She's been hurting him." Draco spits at his father.

"Why do you care if he has been hurt? He is our enemy."

"I think it is better that I tell our Lord first." Draco replies, "Where is he?"