Lord of time (chapter 41-107)

79

September sailed by and before the group knew it October was coming in, along with the winter chill that was guaranteed in Scotland. This resulted in hats, scarfs and gloves being carted around or worn almost constantly even in the castle. The only time they were warm was when they were in their dorms or in the common room, the fire was lit almost all day and most of the night. Soon the black lake would be frozen over, and idiots would attempt to stand on it - during dares or the like - and end up having to visit the hospital wing. It was the same in any time.

"You left awfully early, what's up with that?" Avery asked, as he trudged into the common room with the others. He unlike the others had the guts to ask those kinds of questions of Hadrian especially if Tom wasn't around. He had bonded with Hadrian after all, to act as a shield if he ever needed it. He had sworn the oath because he had to, but now he would protect him because he wanted to.

Dolohov and the others blinked at the sight of Hadrian surrounded by dozens of papers, journals, books and quills all set haphazardly around him. He'd been quieter and busier this past month than they were used to and that was saying something. After all, Hadrian was hardly without a book or journal he was writing in. They knew what the writing was, after all he had published numerous books in the past few years.

"Wanted to test something," Hadrian murmured distractedly, blinking in surprise when a plate was thrust under his nose. Looking up, he found Avery holding out a plate filled with desserts for him. It wasn't just one or two things, it was mounted up, how he'd managed to trail this all the way to the common room without anything spilling off was a surprise. It even had a container with fruit put aside, they knew what he liked that much was obvious. Between the fruit and the tart which was his absolute favourite. "Thanks," he said, more alert and actually giving Avery a small smile before he put his quill down and stretched out as he began to pick at his food. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he had all but skipped dinner before inspiration had stuck him, without his bag with him, containing all the necessary materials.

"What is it you're actually working on? It can't be your normal stuff," Nott said, eyeing the books in befuddlement, "What exactly are these books for?" he understood the Latin, he just hadn't heard of any books with those titles before in his life. "Have you decided to go full time at St. Mungo's?" why else would he be interested in the brain and the nervous systems of the human body? Last he'd heard he was dead set against it.

Hadrian scoffed, "Hell no," he'd be making St. Mungo's richer than the bloody pureblood's if he stayed on with everything he hoped to accomplish. Between the books, potions, spells and just everything he intended to publish. He knew a lot of the money went to help people, or rather a little of it, the most of it went...well into people's pockets most likely. "I'm trying to make a potion, but it isn't easy I need to figure out how to rejuvenate the central nervous system and how the mind works and all that stuff, it's enough to give me a headache,"

"What's it all for?" Dolohov questioned, glancing up as the door opened again emitting the brood of Black's into the common room.

"You'll see," Hadrian waved off the question, he wasn't going to answer it just in case he never got the damn thing working. It would be humiliating, especially considering everyone thought he was some sort of genius. He wasn't he was just...putting in an effort and truthfully he'd already learned everything we were in the process of learning.

The chances of him succeeding were very small, smarter people than him had surely tried to create such a potion and inevitably failed. Otherwise, why else hadn't anyone made the potion by the time his time came around?

"You'll see what?" Orion asked, as he joined the others, sitting on the arm of the chair since there was no other space.

"Potion, creation," Hadrian murmured already back to scribbling away, before flipping through the Muggle books he'd bought last month. He'd apparated away from Hogsmeade, as he was legally an adult he could do as he pleased without hiding it. It had been difficult finding what he was looking for. Most places were closed down due to the war, book stores and the likes, only bare necessities shops were open. Everything boarded up, sandbags in overwhelming numbers piled high. It was a stark reminder that there was a war going on out there, one that they were only reminded off when they read the newspapers of Grindelwald's latest schemes. The entire world was looking for him.