Hadrian Riddle(His Son)

The Cold Duel

Chapter Six:

It was a crisp autumn evening at Malfoy Manor, the sky outside streaked with the deep oranges and purples of a dying day. Inside, the grand dueling room was lit by flickering candlelight, casting long shadows against the dark wood paneling and ornate portraits that lined the walls. This room, with its high ceilings and ancient magic embedded into its very foundation, had witnessed countless duels over the centuries. But tonight, it was set to host a clash between two of the most promising young wizards of their generation.

Hadrian Riddle stood in the center of the room, his expression calm and impassive. His dark hair fell lightly over his forehead, and his green eyes—so much like his mother's, though no one dared mention it—betrayed none of the immense power that he harbored within. He was dressed in simple but elegant robes, the dark fabric fitting him like a shadow. In his hand, he held his wand, though it rested at his side, almost forgotten, as if it were merely an accessory rather than a weapon.

Across from him stood Draco Malfoy, his best friend and constant companion. Draco's face was alight with excitement and a hint of nervousness. He had been practicing for weeks, honing a new spell that he was certain would impress Hadrian. Draco had always been proud, always eager to prove himself—especially to Hadrian, whom he admired more than anyone. But beneath that admiration was a desire to stand as Hadrian's equal, to show that he too could wield power.

"Hadrian," Draco began, a confident smirk on his lips. "I've been working on something new. Father taught me a spell he said only the best duelist could master. I thought we might have a bit of a duel—you know, just for fun."

Hadrian looked at Draco with a mild interest, though inside, he already knew how this would end. No one—not even Draco—truly understood the depths of Hadrian's power. Over the past years, he had honed his magic in ways no one could imagine, exploring the darkest and most forbidden arts. He was the strongest wizard of his generation, though he had kept that truth hidden, revealing only what was necessary to maintain control.

"Alright, Draco," Hadrian said coolly, his voice as smooth as silk. "Let's see what you've got."

Draco's smirk widened. He raised his wand, the excitement bubbling just beneath the surface. "On three?"

Hadrian nodded, barely moving as he waited for Draco to begin. "One, two, three."

Draco was quick, his movements sharp and precise. "Confringo!" he shouted, sending a powerful blast of fiery magic straight at Hadrian. The spell was one of destruction, designed to cause explosions on impact—a spell that would intimidate most opponents.

But Hadrian didn't even flinch. With a casual flick of his wrist, he conjured a shield, deflecting Draco's spell with effortless precision. The fiery blast ricocheted off the shield and dissipated harmlessly into the air. Hadrian's face remained expressionless, as if he had merely swatted away an annoying insect.

Draco's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't let the disappointment show. He was determined to impress Hadrian, to make him acknowledge his skill. Without missing a beat, Draco launched another spell, this time aiming to disarm Hadrian.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell shot towards Hadrian, red light flashing through the air. But once again, Hadrian responded with nothing more than a slight movement of his wand. The disarming spell was absorbed by a counter-charm that Hadrian had barely needed to think about. His wand stayed firmly in his hand, and he regarded Draco with the same cold detachment as before.

"Good try, Draco," Hadrian said, his voice devoid of mockery or praise. "But you'll need more than that."

Draco's frustration began to mount. He was using some of his best spells, and yet Hadrian treated them as if they were child's play. Draco knew Hadrian was talented—everyone knew that—but this was something different. It was as if Hadrian wasn't even trying.

Refusing to back down, Draco decided to use the spell he had been saving, the one that had taken him weeks to master. His father had warned him about its complexity, its raw power, but Draco was certain he could control it. He had to.

With a deep breath, Draco steadied his wand, his eyes locking onto Hadrian's. "Let's see how you handle this," Draco muttered, more to himself than to Hadrian.

"Serpensortia!"

A massive serpent erupted from the tip of Draco's wand, hissing as it shot towards Hadrian, its fangs bared and venom dripping from its jaws. The serpent was a terrifying sight, its scales shimmering darkly as it slithered with lethal intent.

Hadrian watched the serpent with an air of mild curiosity, as though it were nothing more than a pet. He could sense Draco's desperation, his need to prove himself. But this display, while impressive by most standards, was no match for Hadrian's true power.

With a wave of his hand—he didn't even need to use his wand—Hadrian commanded the serpent to halt. The creature stopped mid-strike, its head inches from Hadrian's face, eyes locked with his. For a moment, the room was still, the tension thick in the air.

Then, in a voice colder than ice, Hadrian spoke, "Return."

The serpent obeyed immediately, retreating back into the darkness from which it had come, leaving Draco standing there, wand still raised, breathless and stunned. He had never seen anything like it—Hadrian had controlled the serpent with nothing more than his will.

Hadrian lowered his hand, his expression unreadable. "Is that all, Draco?"

Draco stared at him, the reality of the situation sinking in. He had given everything he had, used his most powerful spell, and it hadn't even fazed Hadrian. There was no anger in Draco, no bitterness—just a profound understanding that Hadrian was on a different level altogether.

"Hadrian," Draco began, his voice quieter now, almost subdued. "You're... incredible."

Hadrian gave a small nod, acknowledging Draco's words without arrogance or false humility. "You've improved, Draco. But remember, power isn't about flashy spells. It's about control—control over your magic, and control over yourself."

Draco nodded slowly, the weight of Hadrian's words pressing down on him. He had always known Hadrian was special, but today, he had glimpsed just how vast the gap between them truly was. It wasn't just skill; it was something more, something that Draco couldn't quite grasp.

"Thank you," Draco said finally, lowering his wand. "I'll keep that in mind."

Hadrian walked over to Draco, placing a hand on his shoulder—a rare gesture of reassurance. "You'll get there, Draco. You're strong, and you have potential. But you need to understand that strength isn't everything."

Draco looked up at Hadrian, his respect for him deeper than ever. "I'll keep working," he promised.

Hadrian gave a slight smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Good. We'll need all the strength we can get in the days to come."

As they left the dueling room, Draco couldn't help but steal glances at Hadrian, still trying to process what had happened. Hadrian had always been a mystery, an enigma wrapped in power and secrecy. But now, Draco understood that Hadrian was something far greater than he had imagined. He was more than just powerful—he was unstoppable.

And though no one else knew it yet, Draco had seen the truth. Hadrian Riddle was the strongest wizard alive, and one day, the entire world would know it too.