Hadrian Potter, Revenge (A Harry Potter Fanfiction)

An Intolerable Future

Run. Breathe. Run. Breathe. It was around 7 am on Saturday morning in the village of Godric's Hollow. Hadrian had been running for about an hour or so, and yet, his breath held steady.

The only confirmation that he was doing any exercise was the slight pink tinge that marked his usually tanned cheeks and the damp sweat that clung stubbornly to his forehead. Hadrian considered for a moment, his mind turning and taking into account the events that had occured since his return to the 'family' home.

Turning the corner he noticed he had past the same water fountain at least three times. The archaic stone stood as a symbol of his state of mind. He should really stop running now, he suspected that if he didn't, he would never be able to.

Maybe he would just run and run, keep going until he just stopped everything; stopped breathing, stopped living, stopped being. Perhaps he was trying to run his emotions out of his mind, maybe it would make him all clean and new.

It wouldn't work, he knew this. It was a futile and childish attempt to create a new story, a way for him to not turn out the way he knew he would. He would always be the brother shrouded in shame, anger and hatred.

'The one that betrayed us all,' that's what they will say.

Hadrian slowed as he reached the woods that boarded the village. Nothing breathed, it was a storm of silence, everything was transfixed and only the light moved. Shades of green backed onto the dark morish brown. It was as if this village only changed with the seasons, nothing moved except the leaves on the trees and nothing flickered apart from the snow in the winter and the summer sun.

This place, he was supposed to call home, reminded Hadrian of those ghost towns. The ones that were always so silent and quiet, yet somehow in a way they were also beautiful. Perhaps it was because they were tormented by their past or by the force of the future. The air always seemed to stir when Hadrian was here, something festered as if repelling him away from this place.

Hadrian felt unease as he now walked through the paths that twined throughout the forest like a serpent's soma, the trees grew thicker and the light dimmed as if the world knew all his sins and were finally punishing him for it.

His mind went back to the other night and how that tempting young maid quivered under his strong forceful hands, a perilous place. He had not seen the girl since that night, not surprising considering it had been two days. Hadrian was not stupid, he knew the girl was avoiding him and yet he didn't feel the need to go out of his way to look for her either, he rubbed his mouth in frustration.

She would come to him, even if she didn't mean to.

Hadrian's strongest emotion was not guilt, he felt no culpability for his actions even though he knew he should do, any good man would. But he never considered himself to be good. What he did feel was irritation. He clenched his palms at his stupidity and lack of control. His actions were tackless and left him assailable to suspicion and the threat of an unforeseen attack.

Dumbledore suddenly came to his mind.

He supposed the most worrying issue was his indifference at not feeling such guilt. The two vicodin tablets that he taken that night had caused the whole event to submerged into a blur of touching, kissing and dominance, a whirlwind of aggression and desire.

Hadrian came to a stop when he saw the gates to the Potter Manor. The place was truly spectacular, the combination of its otherworldly senescence and the mirage of contemporary features created an ambience of a fractured beauty. He walked slowly toward the front door, unzipping his black puffer jacket, which was both thin and light.

He now only wore a black t-shirt, which was tight and breathable ensuring he was able to cool down quickly. The steam from his body radiated through it. Pulling off the lid to his water he tipped his head back and poured it all over his face, opening his mouth for a mouthful and running a hand through his dark and now wet hair. The water was freezing, making him inhale and clench his jaw in order to deal with the burn of the ice against his heated skin.