A True Riddle

Chapter 11 - Plans

Where's the weasel that helped Dumbledore control you? Jormun hisses from where he is hung around Hadrian's neck.

He hasn't come in yet. Hadrian replies scanning the Gryffindor table as they enter the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hpmh. Tell me when he does. I've got a potion for him. Jormun huffs.

"You can't kill a student." Draco laughs, "No matter how terrible."

"Wow. Look at you being a kind, upstanding person who protects others." Hadrian says, faux surprise filling his voice.

"Oh shut. I just want the chance to see him watch us destroy his family and his life, before we destroy him, of course." Draco replies.

"And there is my little Dragon that I know and love." Hadrian wraps an arm around Draco. As they sit at the Slytherin table the gazes of the students drift over Hadrian and Draco and land on Jormun, where they sharpen with curiosity. Jormun slowly lifts his head when he feels the gazes and hisses at the people until they stop looking at him. Completely ignoring the showdown, Hadrian and Draco sit down and begin to eat, still teasing each other.

"Hey guys. Who's this?" A voice cuts through Hadrian and Draco's quiet conversation. They look up to see Blaise dropping into the seat across from Hadrian.

"Hi. This is Jormun." Hadrian greets Blaise. Jormun, this is Blaise. A friend. Hadrian says to Jormun in parseltongue, putting emphasis on the words 'A friend.'

"Nice to meet you." Blaise nods at Jormun before turning back to Hadrian, "So is he, like, a new pet? Or a familiar?"

I am no one's pet. Jormun hisses, looking like he is about to fling himself at Blaise.

"More of a guardian." Hadrian laughs, restraining Jormun, "But familiar works too."

"Hey Potter!" Ron's reedy voice echoes across the hall, interrupting their conversation. "You have a new pet I see. Or have you finally found your family?" Anger floods through Hadrian at Ron's many layered taunt. Slowly, carefully, he stands, gripping the table in an effort to prevent himself from attacking Ron. Red takes over his vision for a second, before receding as perfect clarity settles, bringing everything into blade sharp focus. Releasing the table Hadrian reaches for his wand, slowly drawing it and pointing it at Ron.

"Constrico." Hadrian whispers the spell for constricting something, in this case, Ron's throat. Causing it to be hard for him to breathe. Careful to make sure that Ron doesn't pass out, Hadrian speaks again, loud enough for the whole hall to hear this time, "I would say you certainly know what it's like having snakes for a family, but actually your's is made of weasels, and I wouldn't want to insult a snake by comparing them." Hadrian carefully stalks towards where Ron is frozen half way between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. "As for finding my family, I'll have you know that I have, despite you and your Master's best attempts at controlling me." Ron's shocked face flushes an interesting shade of puce, that slowly darkens to an even more curious shade of plum. "And, here's a bit of advice, in memory of our friendship, you had better run, and you'd better hope that your Master is compassionate, because my family and I are sure as hell not." Hadrian stops when he is directly in front of Ron and flicks his wand, causing the invisible bands around Ron's neck to tighten. Ron sputters, scrabbling at his neck, only succeeding in scratching himself. Any last words for him? Hadrian turns to Jormun, who slithers down Hadrian and over to Ron, where he is now sprawled out on the floor.

You love potions? You love pain? You should love this. Because I am not his pet. I. Am. His. Guardian. And because of you I couldn't do my job. Jormun rears back, his mouth wide to reveal his fangs, and then, in one swift movement he strikes. Sinking his fangs deep into Ron's thigh. Ron manages to squeeze a shout through his partially closed throat, he convulses with the pain of Jormun's poison.