Hadrian Riddle(His Son)

The Power Within

Chapter Seven:

Hadrian Riddle awoke on the morning of his eleventh birthday to a thick mist hanging over the grounds of Riddle Manor. The heavy fog seemed to seep into the ancient stone walls, creating an eerie, almost magical atmosphere. This day, however, was destined to be unlike any other.

From the moment he opened his eyes, Hadrian felt an unusual excitement bubbling within him. Today was the day he would receive his Hogwarts letter. Although he had known for years that this day would come, there was something about holding the letter in his hands, feeling the weight of his destiny, that made his blood sing with anticipation.

As he descended the grand staircase, he found his father, Tom Riddle—Lord Voldemort—waiting for him in the dining room. A rare, almost paternal smile played on his lips as he handed Hadrian a thick envelope made of heavy parchment, sealed with the Hogwarts crest.

"Happy birthday, Hadrian," Voldemort said, his voice a mixture of pride and something deeper, something almost akin to love.

Hadrian took the letter with steady hands, breaking the seal and unfolding the parchment. He read the words carefully, though he already knew what they would say:

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**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Riddle,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress

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Hadrian's eyes gleamed as he read the letter. This was the first step toward his destiny. He looked up at his father, who nodded approvingly.

"We shall go to Diagon Alley today," Voldemort said. "But first, there are special items we must acquire from Knockturn Alley."

After breakfast, they took the Floo Network directly to the heart of Diagon Alley. The bustling crowds and vibrant shops did little to capture Hadrian's interest. He had been here before, many times, and the wonders of Diagon Alley were commonplace to him. His true excitement lay in the shadows of Knockturn Alley.

Voldemort led Hadrian through the twisting, narrow streets of Knockturn Alley, where the dark arts thrived. Here, the shops were filled with ancient tomes, cursed objects, and ingredients for the most potent of potions. It was a place that felt like home to Hadrian—a place where he could embrace his true nature without judgment.

Their first stop was Borgin and Burkes, the most infamous shop in Knockturn Alley. The dimly lit store was filled with dark artifacts, each exuding a sense of danger and power. The proprietor, Mr. Borgin, greeted them with a deep bow, recognizing Voldemort immediately.

"My Lord," Borgin said, his voice tinged with awe and fear. "How may I assist you today?"

Voldemort glanced at Hadrian before speaking. "My son requires a wand. Something... special."

Borgin's eyes widened as he looked at Hadrian, sensing the immense power that radiated from the boy. "Of course, my Lord. I have just the thing."

He led them to a back room, where he kept his most prized and dangerous items. From a velvet-lined case, he produced a wand that seemed to pulse with dark energy. It was made of ebony wood, with a core of basilisk venom and dragon heartstring. The wand was beautiful and terrifying, a perfect match for Hadrian.

"Try it," Borgin urged, handing the wand to Hadrian with trembling hands.

Hadrian took the wand, feeling a surge of power the moment it touched his fingers. He gave it a slight wave, and a burst of dark green sparks shot from the tip, filling the room with a cold, eerie light. The wand felt right, as if it were an extension of his own being.

Voldemort smiled, a cold, satisfied smile. "It is perfect," he said. "We will take it."

With the wand secured, they continued their shopping, gathering books on advanced magic, potions ingredients, and various other items from both Diagon and Knockturn Alley. Hadrian's excitement grew with each purchase, knowing that every item brought him closer to his destiny.

By the time they returned to Riddle Manor, Hadrian's arms were laden with bags filled with magical supplies. He felt a sense of accomplishment, a sense of readiness for the journey ahead.

As he stood in his room that evening, examining his new wand, Hadrian felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He was ready for Hogwarts, ready to prove himself, ready to embrace his destiny. He was the Master of Death, and soon, the wizarding world would know his name.

His father's words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the path that lay before him. "Power isn't just about strength, Hadrian. It's about control. Control over your magic, control over others, and most importantly, control over yourself."

Hadrian understood this better than anyone. He had been born to rule, born to wield power that others could only dream of. And now, with his wand in hand and his path set before him, he was ready to take the first step.

The future was his to command, and nothing—no one—would stand in his way.