Hadrian Potter, Revenge (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

Silent Contemplation

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'Touch him and you'll burn.'

....

"Why are you here?" Hadrian spoke, after a minute of silence.

The silence wasn't deafening, it was comfortable. He had once again lost himself to the view that passed outside the compartment window. It was a series of lakes with hilly crowns, like the hoof prints of some celestial horse. He lifted his head off of his hand and moved his gaze away from the window. Draco didn't know what Hadrian found so intriguing out of the train window, they were moving too fast to be able to really notice anything substantial.

"Why is everyone here?" Hadrian repeated, this time louder and more commanding than the first.

Blaise snorted in amusement at Hadrian's lack of propriety - Hadrian was habitually temperamental and today seemed like one of those days.

"Fuck, you really are in a bad mood," Theo mumbled loudly.

Hadrian heard him and considered hitting him, but the pounding in his head made him change his mind. A confident smirk took over Theo's features as he leaned across the compartment, looking out into the corridor.

"Yo, Mason! You were right, he's in a bad mood!" Theo yelled to whoever was out there, his young face still amused.

Daphne bit the edge of a smile, capturing her folded lips between her teeth, a vain attempt to keep her creeping grin at bay. Her eyes sparkled like storm clouds right before lightning hit; swirls of grey and blue threatened floods of riotous hysterics. Outside the compartment there was a rumble of deep unrestrained laughter. It wasn't particularly loud, yet it reverberated through the train like rolling thunder. It wasn't mocking and neither was it particularly innocent - its inflection was warm baritone, representing good humour and undeniable loyalty.

The compartment door rolled open and to the surprise of the compartment, the hallway was empty. Hadrian eyes glanced down to find the large form of Mason Villenti lying casually on the corridor floor, his arms behind his head and his eyes closed. Hadrian had to hold back a smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. Mason Villenti was huge, around six foot three inches of solid uncultivated muscle. He was much like Blaise, with the same physical build of a Greek Titan. Mason stood up surprisingly smoothly, grinning back at the amused faces sat in the compartment.

Looking at both Blaise Zabini and Mason Villenti, it was easy to notice the differences between the two. Of course, the most notable difference, was blood status. The magical world just like all others was full prejudicial bias - selecting the rich and powerful to be their Kings and Queens. Blaise Zabini was a wealthy pureblood, born into high society - he screamed opulence and smooth edges. Mason Villenti, on the other hand, was rougher presenting a kind of wilderness - like running barefoot through a forbidden forest. He held no social authority within the Wizarding World and not because he was a half blood - many half-blood's prospered and were at the top of government. It was the fact that his mother was a muggle, a primary school teacher.

The differences between the two boys was the perfect visual representation of what money and status could do for an individual - what it could get you. Yet, it also portrayed its oppressive restrictions, in the freedom to become whatever and whoever you want.

"What's up kids!" Mason Villenti spoke unceremoniously.

Mason's eyes lit up in partially smothered amusement. They were the colour of autumnal forest cedar, earthen brown in a way that brought to mind smooth rich tree bark. He was addressing the entire compartment however his amused gaze was locked onto Hadrian, who sat quietly in the corner.