The Dark Slytherin (Trilogy)

Ch 21- The First Kill

Hadrian Potter had tried to push it out of his mind—the conversation with Dumbledore—but it gnawed at him like an unsolved riddle. He sat at the edge of his bed in the Slytherin dormitory, staring blankly at the stone wall opposite him. The room was quiet, save for the occasional crackling of the enchanted fire in the hearth. His mind, however, was a storm.*How had Dumbledore known?*

The thought had been plaguing him ever since their meeting. It was as though the headmaster had glimpsed something from Hadrian's past, something he had never spoken of to anyone. The time with the gang. The dirty streets of London. The feeling of being utterly alone but somehow finding a home among a band of criminals. No one knew about that. No one except Sirius, and Sirius wasn't the type to divulge Hadrian's secrets. Not willingly, not to someone like Dumbledore.

*Then how?*

The conversation replayed in his mind, each word magnified by his lingering suspicion. Dumbledore had been calm, his eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles, but there was an unsettling weight to the way he spoke to Hadrian, as though he already knew too much. His questions had been subtle, but sharp, pricking at Hadrian's carefully constructed walls of secrecy.

*"I understand you spent some time with a group of... rather unconventional caretakers"*The words had been a dagger, striking deep and without warning. Dumbledore hadn't said much more, just enough to leave Hadrian wondering. The headmaster had known. But how? The question festered in his mind like a wound that refused to heal.

Hadrian clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white. His heart thudded louder, a pulsing rhythm in the quiet dormitory. Dumbledore was too powerful, too omniscient. He had eyes and ears everywhere, yet the idea of the old man knowing about Hadrian's life before Hogwarts was unnerving. It wasn't just unsettling—it was impossible. Unless...

Hadrian's eyes narrowed, his gaze darkening as he considered the possibilities. Dumbledore had sources, people who worked for him. He had connections that ran deeper than anyone knew, even within the shadows of the wizarding world. Hadrian couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, someone had sold him out.

But who?

Hadrian stood abruptly, his chest tightening with unease. His pacing began, quick, sharp steps across the cold stone floor. He ran a hand through his messy black hair, his mind spiraling with unanswered questions.

*What did Dumbledore know? How much did he know? And who had told him?*Hadrian stopped, his eyes fixating on the small window across the room. Outside, the darkening sky was a blanket of heavy clouds, the late autumn chill creeping in through the cracks.

 His heart raced as the sense of being watched crept over him. Someone had betrayed his past to the headmaster. Someone had revealed his darkest secrets, his hidden life in the alleyways of London.

---*Months earlier, Knockturn Alley...*

The narrow, crooked streets of Knockturn Alley were bathed in shadows, the dim light from flickering streetlamps barely illuminating the path. It was a place of darkness, both literal and figurative, where the air was thick with a stench of rot, decay, and something far more sinister. The kind of place where no self-respecting wizard, especially not one of Albus Dumbledore's stature, would dare tread.