Chapter 12

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By the time he'd clawed out his scales, he had calmed down and then panicked all over again. His beautiful scales, on the floor and dull. His scales weren't as shiny as they used to be when he was actually happy. 

He hears a knock on the door and he can only just see a letter is snuck under the door- He flicks his wrist and the letter comes flying forward and opens it. 

Hey kid- it's your favourite teacher, we need to talk. Now.

He wants to tear the door off of his hinges now, to reveal Barty but he won't. Instead the door flings open and Barty stumbles through the piano room to the bedroom, covered in Slytherin robes. Borrowed- and too big. 

Hadrians gaze focuses on Toms robes and has to glance back up at Barty's eyes- 

Except they weren't Barty's.

They were red. 

They were red. 

They were red-

Barty's gaze- but it wasn't really his, dropped down to view the scattered black scales and those red eyes widened, before focusing on brutalised arms. 

Hadrian was still staring directly into Toms eyes and he couldn't breathe. Would he try and kill Hadrian- or would Tom see him differently. 

"Are you scared of me?" The voice asks quietly. So different from Voldemorts voice. Gentle, caressing, disarming. It's not Tom's voice- but it's so close. It's still Barty's vocals. But his mannerism of speaking is different. It's Barty's body, but the brain using it is different. 

"That depends entirely on if your here to kill me," he says lowly. "But I doubt Barty's magic capacity is high enough for that." The body chuckles.

"Yes, I would have to agree." He eyes him and Barty holds out a hand. "Pass me your arm." 

"If you need my blood I'm not giving it." 

"If I needed your blood," Tom retorted, "I'd scrape it off of the floor. Pass me your arm." His heart ached- so he listened and there was suddenly a bandage wrapping tightly around the wound, compressing the injuries. "Are you a snake animagi? I heard you could speak to Basilisks." 

"I know you speak Parseltongue too," Hadrian says lowly. Tom glances at him, smirking a bit, 

"Good boy." Hadrian blinks, wondering where the hell that came from and gave Tom a quizzical look while he wrapped his arm and hands in silence, inspecting the claws at the tips of his fingers. "I suppose not. A lizard of some description?" Hadrian only sighs as he lets go and moves onto his other arm. "Then again, the curvature is wrong for most lizards." Fingers fiddle with his claws for a minute and raises a brow at Hadrian. Hadrian gave him an unimpressed look instead. 

"I'm not going to tell you." Hadrian sniffs the robes subtly, smelling roses, shaving cream and books, like always. 

His fingers twitch with the urge to pull the man closer but it wasn't Tom- 

Hadrian blinks to ease his changing sight, glancing away from Tom. He knows he's watching, waiting and Hadrian is ready to apparate in a moment. 

A hand grabs his chin and pulls him back around and surprisingly, there's no attempts at legilimency. Instead red eyes stare into the eyes of a-

"Ah, a dragon," he muses. Hadrian blinks. A finger rubs his chin- 

Okay- hold on Tom, I'm still- I'm still- 

"How rare," he murmurs. "I couldn't wait until Christmas Day to meet you. I do apologise." 

"That is what I assumed the invite was for," Hadrian says lowly. Tom seemed to smirk- which looks weird on Barty's face. 

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