𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄⋆.ೃ࿔*Cedric Diggory

ONE

"𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘮𝘸𝘪𝘵"

A HOLLOW SILENCE HAD FALLEN ON the both of them, but the tension in the atmosphere was boiling, tipping over the edge. And then,

Smack!

Adrian's head turned to the side with the force of the slap, his cheek burning. He forgot how much his mother's slaps stung. The almost twelve years old had just gotten back from his first semester at Hogwarts.

"Gryffindor?! How in Hades' name did you get sorted into Gryffindor?!" Cassandra Black shrieked, glaring daggers at the young boy who wouldn't meet her eyes. Adrian's hands were clenched, knuckles white.

"I apologize, mother." The words burned in his mouth and sizzled on his tongue. The flame in his eyes burned along the amber that occupied them. The brunette turned toward his mother, now facing her yet again.

"You absolute disgrace! What would your father say! What would your ancestors say!" She continued screaming, and Adrian could swear he'd seen one of the glasses on the table crack.

"It's not my fault if the hat—" The boy didn't get to finish his sentence since his mother delivered another slap, shutting him up instantly.

"Don't talk back to me young man! You embarrassed me, no, you humiliated me in front of all pureblooded families!" At those words, Adrian bit the inside of his cheek, jaw flexing.

"I heard the Malfoys' eldest got sorted into Slytherin. You should take him as an example." She continued, this time her tone was oddly calm. "He'll be coming here a lot during summer, I'm sure you guys will be great friends. Right?" This wasn't a request.

It was a command.

"Yes." Adrian bit out, his hazel eyes were emotionless, yet determined and cold. Not that he meant whatever he was telling her.

Cassandra then gripped his chin roughly with her free hand, tilting his head back so she could stare down into her son's eyes. "You better not disappoint me Adrian Regulus Black, you know you won't like the consequences."

"Yes mother." He tried to keep his voice away from shaking. The woman then let go of him and walked toward the table and took off her gloves, before sitting down on one of the extravagant chairs.

"Now, run along, I'm sure you've got a lot of assignments to work on." She casually mused, as if she hadn't been screaming her lungs out at him a couple of minutes ago,

With a nod -that she probably didn't see- The twelve years old walked out of the living room and made his way upstairs, to his room.

Somewhere, in a small town called Devon, a golden haired boy was beaming at his parents as he opened the presents they got him for his twelfth birthday.

A certain brunette was quietly walking along the streets of Diagon alley with his mother, as she listed the things he had to get for his second year at Hogwarts.

"I'll get the books and you go get the cauldron, we'll meet back here in twenty minutes" Cassandra Black ordered, pointing toward the shop that sold potion and brewing supplies.

Adrian nodded, absentmindedly rubbing his bandaged arm, which couldn't actually be seen thanks to the expensive coat that he was wearing.

The young boy made it to the store, and once there, he quickly walked toward the aisle where cauldrons of all sizes were kept. However before he could even get his hands on one, someone suddenly bumped into him from behind.

Adrian flinched, then turned to see which idiotic person was blind enough not to see where they were walking— when he found himself eye to eye with a slightly taller boy.

"Im sorry, I didn't see where I was walk—" the boy had started, but got quickly cut off by Adrian shoving him away. "Next time, try to see where you're going dimwit." He scowled, grabbing the nearest cauldron before quickly stalking away from the gaping boy.

Cedric stared wide eyed at the retreating angry boy. What was his deal? Did he bump into him that hard? He had tried to apologize...

Scratching the back of his head, Cedric shrugged before grabbing a cauldron of his own.

Adrian was running.

Actually, running was an understatement.

The boy was sprinting down Hogwarts' hallways, a bunch of Slytherins hot on his trails.

"Come back here filth! You're going to regret that!" Marcus flint was yelling from behind him, but Adrian didn't have the time to look back at him. Quickly, the Gryffindor took a sharp turn that led him to a different corridor.

Alright, he may or may not have punched Marcus on the face when the guy and his friends tried picking on him. They obviously deserved it— even if none of them had laid a hand on him in the first place.

"I'll kill you Black!" He heard the Slytherin call out, and Adrian couldn't help but crack a small laugh at that.

As he took another turn, Rian suddenly felt a hand grab his arm, and he was quickly pulled into a nearby classroom. Before anything could happen,  the brunette had gotten his wand out and was pointing it at whoever pulled him into that class.

His guarded expression fell once his eyes caught sight of the eldest Malfoy.

"Stephan." He said curtly, face going blank.

"Adrian." The blond returned the greeting in the same tone, before crossing his arms and raising a brow at his fellow second year. "You know your mother wouldn't approve of this right?" The two boys were forced— well mostly Adrian— into hanging out during the summer, and Cassandra had asked the young Malfoy to look after her son. Adrian thought it was ridiculous.

"That's none of your business." The Gryffindor huffed, glaring at the other boy.

"Well according to your mother, it technically is."

"You don't have to stick your nose in everything I do, Malfoy."

The blond's grey eyes widened, and he was quick to frown down at Adrian. "So it's okay if I tell her that you've been messing with other students?" He asked, voice dripping of fake innocence.

Adrian with all of his pride and glory, obviously would be regretting the next words coming out of his mouth.

"Suit yourself asshole, you can tell her that I killed someone for all I care." He spat, shoving the Malfoy boy out of the way with his shoulder, opening the door and casually stepping out of the class.

A certain blond glared at the floor, hands clenched into fists.

That summer, a particular brown haired boy was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, eyes red and puffy, and the stinging in his back more painful then he ever thought possible.

Downstairs, his mother was putting the lash away in the cupboard.