His head snapped to the side, Hermione jumped off and began to scold whoever it was who had assaulted him. Internally Adrian began a soothing mantra, trying to reign in his aggravated emotions. A small slap was nothing; a minor healing charm could fix it once he left. He had been hurt worse than this, yet the person attached to the hand wasn't exactly helping in the circumstances.
"Ronald! This is Adrian!" Hermione scolded.
"You never said he was a slimy git too!"
"He's helping us!" Hermione scowled. "And you can't just attack him like- like-"
"Like what!"
"Like an idiot!"
"Enough!" A new voice cried out, one which led all of Adrian to hiss and coil to lash and kill-
He twisted instantly; his back hunched as he curled inwards and drew his wand. His entire visage shifted from the forcibly relaxed to something wounded and vicious.
"Talk sense in her, Skylar mate." Ron said frowning. "She's gone and lost it."
"I have not!"
"Skylar Potter." Adrian stood, removing his hand from his face and instead held it aloft. He forced his shoulders back in a way which seemed painful, and plastered a thin lipped smile onto his face. "I've heard plenty of interesting things and I do enjoy..." Adrian stood from the couch and took a few steps, shaking Skylar's baffled outstretched hand. "Interesting things."
Hermione huffed. "Adrian finds out information. He helped Pavarti before the holidays with that one spell for eye-bags!"
Adrian gave a small nod, confirming the information. His eyes never left the gentle hazel mixture of somewhere in between blue and Lily's green.
"He found this." Hermione whispered, handing over the scroll which Skylar forcibly broke Adrian's gaze to roll open. Skylar stared a few moments, reading Adrian's uniquely spider-like handwriting.
Ron snatched it and squinted at the uniform small print. "Did a rat write this?"
Hermione smacked his arm.
Skylar puffed up one cheek, looking lopsided as he looked over the writing more suspiciously. "You write this, mate?"
Adrian's hands twitched with the barely restrained urge to throttle Skylar.
"Can I get you to do my potions essay?" Ron joked, although that changed to gobsmacked when Adrian gave a curt nod.
"Ronald, Adrian deals out bets, wagers," Hermione struggled to explain. "Deals and that sort."
"Deals?" Skylar's expression was more critical, and with one hand he rubbed it over the edge of his jaw under his left ear. "That sounds a bit shady there, mate. Careful who you go bargaining to."
Adrian felt the entirely understandable urge to smack the boy just as Weasley had done before. Of course Adrian knew full well that he was dealing complicated business, there Skylar Potter to criticize his work. Skylar had everything handed to him-
"I mean, I just don't want you getting into tough business." Skylar interrupted roguishly, "If you do, give us a shout. A friend of Hermione's is a friend of mine."
-Adrian had to work for everything.
"I wouldn't mind if he gets a bit roughed up," Weasley muttered, still loud enough for Adrian.
Weasley didn't know pain the way Adrian had.
"If that's all you need, Miss Granger?" Adrian clipped stiffly, taking a few steps back to slowly glare at Hermione who blushed and shook her head. "Then I'll take my leave. Best of luck to your ventures."
He turned and walked as quickly as he could out of the tower, the air had begun to fill and become stiflingly hot.
He wondered for the smallest moment what it would feel like to kill the famous Skylar Potter.
The rest of the year drifted by almost like a Spring mist. Everyone was caught in the mindless repetition of classes and homework, studying material over and over in the shadows of looming exams, such that one day seemed to blend into the next into the next.
The upper years were quiet, strangely so, as they vanished to wherever they went to study.
And then the exams were upon them and even Adrian found himself concentrating on his studies. His occlumency was still hopeless, but he hardly had time to worry about that now. When he wasn't studying, he and Lutain were both pressed with lethargy.
Adrian had almost forgotten entirely about Hermione and her questions until the leaving feast was upon them, when the house cup was unfairly stolen from Slytherin and awarded to Gryffindor.
Once he'd snapped out of the lethargy that accompanied exams, Adrian had worked out that the "Golden Trio", as the rest of the school had started to refer to the three, Skylar, his pet Weasley, and Hermione Granger, had passed the Cerberus with his aid and ventured into the spelled depths of the forbidden corridor on the third floor to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone.
Although the prize would be marvelous, the risk surrounding it was too great. Evidently it had lured something to the castle, something which had let in the troll, attacked Snape (a couple of the upper years mumbled seeing him walking with a limp) and ventured after the fabled artefact. The trio most likely were aware of the threat and acted accordingly to stop it.
Adrian mused what misguided fool would try to sneak into the castle even with Dumbledore leaving for one day.
The Great Hall was filled with the echoing chaos of whistles and clapping. All three tables rejoiced as the green banners shifted to red with flourish. Fireworks crackled in the enchanted sky overhead, illuminating the grimaces and scowls of Adrian's housemates. He kept his own face perfectly neutral.
Adrian met with Hermione's breathless excited eyes over the distance. Her smile grew wider and something in her eyes were warmer as well. Ronald Weasley stated something, inaudible at that distance, which distracted the witch from Adrian's gaze.
It didn't matter. As far as Adrian was concerned, he had established something that would linger much longer than any fool-hearted attempts to steal a relic.
"Time to go home," Lutain cheered, content enough to lounge alongside the gilded plates from the feast.
Adrian felt the same.
....
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