Chapter 37

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There was one thing Hadrian hadn't considered when he stood in the room, observing everyone as they opened gifts, personal ones that helped them in some form, with things he shouldn't know about, was the thirty years of separation had left a gaping chasm between everyone in the room and him.

Despite their endless thanks, exclaims and words, the gifts they received and everything else, Hadrian stood there, not fully removed but not fully involved either. Ekkathion was more like Harry than the dragon realised and had glossed over the bond between them so that the only person Hadrian felt fully corporeal in front of, was his father.

His father, who only had one gift.

It was an old grimoire, hundreds upon hundreds of years old. On artefact theory. Wands were in there and so many strange but interesting pieces. It was gilded with gold and leather bound. Each word was handwritten, each drawing preciously hand done and there were notes slipped inside from a wizard or witch a few centuries later.

His father simply held it in his hands, his gaze reflecting how distant Hadrian physically felt. He watches Regulus and Sirius banter with Hayes and the boys and how Alannis laughs and opens packages- he sees how deferential Regulus is to her and how respectfully Sirius converses with them all, throwing in the odd inappropriate joke in that makes Remus scowl. Remus and Alannis are just chatting otherwise, chatting and chatting and they must have gone to Hogwarts together, from what he's observing.

Narcissa and Lucius are precious over Draco, constantly hugging him or touching him in some way to make sure the boy never went far. They sat on a leather chaise together with Draco on the floor, opening gifts.

He watches them the most, he watches Draco the most.

The memories he kept deeply entrenched deep within his mind coming forth. It's almost a pain worthy of killing him with how far away his auror partner was. A boy no younger than fourteen. He was not stained with blood, he was not obsessed with being friends with Potter or beating him in all the subjects, or making fun of him.

But Narcissa and Lucius were happy without Voldemort. Lucius didn't have a limp that slowly devoured his life and Narcissa wasn't destroyed with the loss of her son and husband. Scorpius didn't exist here and Astoria was living her life somewhere out there, likely fangirling with her other friends during the holidays and trying to forget the events at Hogwarts.

Speaking of Hogwarts, he'd need to fix the destruction he'd done. Merlin that had been such a blunder on his part but there was no point beating himself up over it. What was done, was done. It would be require a lengthy conversation and likely a word to the Unspeakables and Aurors. Perhaps the Minister, even.

A hand settled on his shoulder and he startled- but dark blue magic mingled with his and he glanced at his father, who looked at him with concern. A quick sweep of the room informed him only Orion and Tom had noticed.

"Sorry?" He asks. Arcturus holds up the book.

"Where did you get it from?"

"Grindelwald." The room pauses and turns to him, having caught the name and the Triarii turned almost at once. Even his father just stares in surprise.

"Grindelwald?" Thaddeus echoes, "when did you meet Grindelwald?"

"We've met him before," Tom says slowly, frowning, "but never on friendly terms."

"No," he agrees carefully. He had to find the man as well, that letter he'd sent a few weeks ago was important but he hadn't been in the mind to contact back. "I did something I shouldn't have for it but it doesn't matter now." Arcturus lifts a brow imploringly.

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