Adrian had mixed feelings over Halloween. It was the day of the pagan Samhain festival, something Adrian enjoyed quite thoroughly. On that day, it was custom to honor the dead, or the names of your ancestors. Although awkward and uncomfortable, it was an apparent honor to stumble through the names of your ancestors, tracing your lineage back as far as you could. Adrian could certainly understand why reciting his lineage, the descendants of Salazar Slytherin, would be a privilege .
On the other hand, the night was repeatedly marked with the foreign high pitch hiss of ‘Show the boy his place!’ and Bellatrix unhinged like a mad hound. She was entirely a different person, the concepts of comfort or maternal instinct absent from her cackling and vicious curses.
Adrian had shouted, he had begged--
He twitched, fingers sliding towards a phantom ache of something wriggling in his abdomen. His sudden movement jarred the book which had been balanced lazily on his lap.
Draco looked up sharply, following the book with a pinched look of annoyance. His elaborate albino peacock quill stopped scratching against his parchment.
“What, is that book too boring for your prestigious tastes?” Draco asked, looking challengingly at Adrian. It was no lie that Adrian was very particular about his books, that he was very critical of them.
“Says the one holding a peacock quill,” Adrian snipped back, without much feeling.
Draco only scowled, looking back at the book of charms and jinxes not taught in the Hogwarts curriculum.
“I hope you’re not planning on using that on Bulstrode,” Draco warned, not flinching at Adrian’s glare.
“I did nothing to that girl--”
Draco looked at him with obvious skepticism.
“It’s for a bargain, a second year Slytherin wants a hex that is unique enough to do damage, but tricky enough not to be fixed quickly.” Adrian explained, “Three galleons on it.”
“So now you’re selling your services too?” Draco rolled his eyes. His tone made it clear he thought the idea of Adrian selling his services was beneath him. “Give you a sickle and you’ll jinx Potter for me?”
“I’d need more than a sickle if you want me to hunt down a professor,” Adrian grunted, flipping to a specific page before turning and showing Draco the desired hex.
Draco read it, eyes widening in surprise at the description, “The Jelly-finger hex?”
“Makes your target unable to hold anything in their hands, not taught in schools, and has a potion to reverse the effects. Which takes two days to brew,” Adrian deadpanned, the wicked gleam in his eyes belying his even tone. “Pretty useful.”
Draco paused. “What was the incantation for that--”
Adrian snapped the book shut, sliding it into his bag with a blank expression. He looked at Draco and dryly informed the blonde that the information would cost him three galleons. Draco scowled again.
But he paid Adrian anyway.
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Antithesis
FanfictionRevenge is the misguided attempt to transform shame and pain into pride. Being forsaken and neglected, ignored and forgotten, revenge seems a fairly competent obligation at this point. Skylar is the boy who lived, that's why he's important. I'm no...
