HARRY POTTER STORY: Lions in snake den

Part 32

The night of Draco Malfoy's birthday had arrived, and at Potter Manor, the Potter siblings prepared with quiet confidence. This was no ordinary gathering—it was a meeting of future leaders, heirs to the most powerful families in the wizarding world. And tonight, Hadrian and Hermione Potter would make sure no one forgot that.

Hermione stood before her mirror, carefully adjusting the silver and emerald gown that fit her form with effortless elegance. The fabric shimmered subtly in the candlelight, enchanted to catch just the right amount of glow. The dress was regal yet modern, a symbol of power and sophistication rather than simple vanity.

The emeralds embedded in her jewelry were not just for show—they were a statement. Everything about her tonight spoke of the heritage she had only recently begun to uncover, the legacy of a name far greater than the one she had once carried.

Her dark curls were styled to perfection, cascading over one shoulder in soft waves. There was a quiet power in her reflection—this was no longer the girl who had once felt the need to prove herself, to force her way into recognition. She was Hermione Potter, sister to Hadrian Potter, heir to a family line that stretched further back than most could comprehend. And tonight, she would ensure that those around her saw it too.

Hadrian, meanwhile, was fastening the silver cuffs on his deep emerald robes, the crest of House Potter proudly embroidered over his heart. His attire was not just clothing—it was a declaration. Every detail had been meticulously chosen to blend the ancient nobility of the Potters with the calculated presence he now carried. The robes had been tailored to move perfectly with him, exuding quiet authority. The emerald and silver detailing on the black fabric made his green eyes stand out even more, a reminder of the legacy he bore and the power he was beginning to wield.
He caught sight of his reflection and allowed a small, knowing smirk.

No longer was he simply "The Boy Who Lived" or the lost child people whispered about in the shadows. He was Hadrian Orion Potter, heir to one of the most powerful bloodlines in history, and he would no longer allow others to dictate his path. He understood power now—how it moved, how it was perceived, how it was wielded. And tonight, he would make sure everyone else understood it too.

The invitation to Draco's birthday was more than just a friendly gathering—it was an opportunity. Among Slytherins, everything had purpose. Every word, every gesture, every interaction carried weight. This was a chance to solidify alliances, to observe, and to remind the wizarding world that House Potter was not to be ignored.
A soft knock at the door drew his attention. Turning, he found Hermione standing there, poised with effortless grace.
"You look formidable," he said, his tone carrying both approval and amusement.
Hermione arched a brow, a smirk playing on her lips. "And you look exactly like the kind of Lord the wizarding world should fear."
Hadrian chuckled, adjusting the sleeve of his robes. "Good. That's the goal."

Hermione stepped further into the room, her eyes scanning him with the same analytical precision she used when reviewing old magical texts. She could see the shift in him, the way he carried himself now compared to a year ago. He was no longer just reacting to the world—he was shaping it. Looping her arm through his, she met his gaze. "Shall we, Hadrian?"

He gave a small nod, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Let's go, Hermione. We have a world to remind of who we really are."

With quiet, unshakable confidence, the Potter siblings strode forward, ready to take their place among the heirs of the wizarding world. They were no longer the children others thought they knew. They were Hadrian and Hermione Potter—and they would not be forgotten.

Just as Hadrian and Hermione made their way toward the Floo, a familiar voice interrupted them.

"Merlin's beard," Sirius drawled from the doorway, arms crossed, leaning against the frame with a smirk that could rival any Slytherin's. "Hermione, you're looking very elegant tonight. You sure you're not trying to impress a certain blond-haired, grey-eyed heir?" Hermione groaned, her expression caught between exasperation and amusement. "Sirius, really?"