Albus ate nothing while he waited for dinner to finally be over, he didn't want to call anymore attention to himself by leaving early. He ignored all the looks he was receiving from the students too, even his Gryffindors much to his annoyance and underneath it all a little hurt. He was their Head of House, they adored him yet they dared to look at him as if he was something foul under their noses? Which brought him to the thoughts…did they know? He couldn't hear them from his seat up here, but surely they had no other reason to be so off with him? Straining slightly, trying to hear what was being said he failed spectacularly.
"Do you know what's wrong with the students tonight? They're not their normal buoyant selves!" Albus said somehow managing to sound concerned for them, gazing around, not everyone was glaring up at the table but there was enough to concern him - from all four houses too. Sweat began to gather at his temples, Albus managed to unobtrusively dab it away while wiping his mouth. He was so cold, almost shivering yet he would bet the temperature was same as always.
"No, no they're not," Septimus replied coolly, glancing at the students himself, they were angry at something that much was obvious. He'd never seen them so united in anger before, sad yes, horrified yes, usually while reading the paper and seeing what Grindelwald was doing to the magical world and how many had died during a raid or whatever he was doing at the time. He did notice eventually that the glares were more directed towards Dumbledore than anyone else, curious, what had gotten them so riled up? The chances of them finding out were slim to nothing.
Albus gave a near inaudible sigh when the main meal disappeared replaced with dessert, twenty more minutes to endure then he was free to leave. Thankfully he didn't need to patrol until curfew which gave him a few hours to try and figure out what was going on. He had to know how the hell Hadrian Peverell had figured out about his sister, he'd made it next to impossible for anyone to stumble upon it. This was no accident, someone had told that boy, he heavily suspected Grindelwald but he had to be sure. He couldn't just accuse anyone without proof; otherwise it would everything very complicated very fast.
"Aren't you going to eat, Albus? You're favourite has been served, lemon tarts," Horace pointed out, dapping his mouth with his napkin, his voice going muffled each time he did. The remains of the gravy disappeared as he joyfully began to plate up some sugary treats for himself. He chose strawberry tart; it wasn't as sour as lemon and he didn't like the taste as Albus did apparently.
"I don't mind if I do!" Albus said somewhat more cheerfully, "I'll have to remember and thank the House-elves," he always had a soft spot for anything with lemon in it, especially lemon tart and his favourite lemon drop treats. Regretfully it wasn't something he could freely get these days, the muggle companies no longer sold them to him, and they were on rationing or some such thing, because of the war. So he definitely wasn't missing out on an opportunity to indulge himself. He added a few lemon tarts to his plate, salivating at the idea. The wizarding world didn't make anything as wondrous as the Muggles did.
Of course, that indulgence he wished to partake in couldn't quite be handled on his nervous stomach as he soon found out after a single bite. His stomach was rolling, nerves were getting the better of him, it's the same feeling he got when begged for help from strangers who wanted him to help end Gellert once and for all. He couldn't bring himself to do it, not only did he care deeply for the wizard despite what he was doing; he was terrified of what he could find out. He didn't want to know if he'd accidentally killed his own sister, it would literally destroy him. Just like this was destroying him. He needed a calming draught before he confronted his brother.
It seemed with desert the students began to sheath their daggers and actually begin to cheer up from whatever was bothering them. Or it may have had something to do with the influx of sugar they'd just consumed. Unsurprisingly it was the Ravenclaw's that began to leave first, in fact nearly the entire third through seventh left at the same time, looking as though they were on a mission.
"Excuse me," Albus said apologetically, "I have something that requires my urgent attention." finally seeing his chance to leave without arousing questions he did not want to answer. In fact he would not answer them, he hadn't felt so anxious in a very long time, not since he was a teenager and he hated it.
Everyone murmured their acceptances, not in the slightest bit interested, despite Dumbledore's worries - or perhaps it was his overconfidence in the belief he was in any way interesting, which he wasn't, he was predictable, at least he had been until this whole debacle had happened with Hadrian Peverell, since then he'd been highly strung. That itself didn't gain their interest, it caused their concern, and not wholly for the teacher himself.
As always, Tom was watching everything with keen dark eyes, he alone observed how worried Dumbledore was when the students began to get agitated with the old wizard for his detention when Hadrian was just recovering. Hadrian seemed to have quite a big pain tolerance, despite the fact the wound had been healed, it had to hurt like blazes, yet he ignored it and brewed potions. He's already known about his tolerance though, he'd stood through a torture curse that he'd seen bring every other classmate to their knees, screaming in pain yet he'd stood through it and then flung his magic at him Wandlessly. Seeing Puce moving from the corner of his eye, he glanced just slightly, watching Dumbledore in his disgusting robes stand up - ready to leave.
"Are you finished, Hadrian?" Slughorn asked as he descended the teachers table just after Dumbledore did.
Harry groaned, "Do I really have to go?" without waiting for a reply, he gave a long suffering sigh as he collected his stuff, "I'll see you guys later." with that he walked the Slughorn who was walking quite fast, he had to remind himself he wasn't fifty years older like he had been in his own time.
"How are you feeling?" Horace asked Hadrian, watching him closely.
"I'm fine, professor," Harry said giving him a sideway glance and a small smile of reassurance.
"Good, your detention will be with me tonight, so come to my classroom," Horace added as they continued ascending the stairs, making their way to the hospital wing.
"Sure," Harry said in agreement, well that was great, his detentions weren't really detentions, and he was a bit like Lockhart when it came to detention, although he'd prefer Slughorn to Lockhart hands down. Not that he had to worry about the Lockhart of his time, since he wasn't even an apple in anyone's eye yet. There wasn't a Lockhart in the school that he knew off, but it was bloody wild being in the same school as people he knew in future. There had been Neville's grandmother and grandfather! McGonagall who was still here and a lot of other people to name them would take all night. "Will I be serving all of them with you?" he couldn't see Slughorn doing detention at the weekend, this was the weekend he held his 'parties' the term 'Slug club' hadn't been brought up yet in all his time so perhaps it hadn't been coined yet.
"No, just tonight," Slughorn informed him, "Ah, our wayward wanderer has returned to you, Healer Chang," he added as he opened the hospital wing door Harry following behind him only to gulp at the look on her face. She did not look happy at all, Chang stood her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed, nostril flaring.
"Um…hi?" Harry said, arranging his face to sheepish and apologetic.
"On the bed, right this minute young man," Chang instructed grimly.
Harry withheld a sigh, he was too old for this crap, but outwardly he was only a teenager, so he trod over and sat down on the bed, waiting for her to give him a final check over. He wasn't going to stay the night, even if she tried to demand it. The Hospital wing compared to everywhere else was cold, and that was saying something since he actually lived in a dungeon in Slytherin for Merlin's sake. The sheets were too thin, that was also another thing that hadn't changed. Harry wasn't fond of being cold, not after having to sleep in abandoned buildings on the run for years, the constant cold was annoying, but not completely unfamiliar unfortunately, he'd been raised in a cold cupboard for ten years after all.
"Right, let me see, you may leave if you wish, Horace," Chang said scurrying over, her hands warm against Hadrian's skin and tilting his head to the side so she could see the wound more clearly.
"I'm sure Hadrian, here, can make his way to the common room on his own once you're done," Horace said honestly, turning to Harry receiving his confirmation nod, "No detours," he warned the teenager before backing away, a joyful "Goodnight," thrown over his shoulder.
"Are you in pain?" Chang asked softy, prodding at the delicate skin.
"It feels like you're poking me with a knife if that's an answer," Harry replied, stifling his amusement at how quickly she pulled away with a guilty look on her face.
"My apologies, on a scale from one to ten how would you describe the pain?" she then asked, her wand out dancing intricately as she performed an advanced diagnosis, the beam of light shot out of her wand and entered Harry, briefly making him glow as it mapped every inch of his body from the inside out. The glow stopped but the spell remained active for a few more seconds before paperwork shot out of her wand.
"It's sore but I can live with it," Harry replied, he wasn't going to overplay the injury, he didn't care if it was un-childlike - or teenage like - thinking of Draco Malfoy who complained for weeks over one little scratch. He honestly couldn't see how Draco Malfoy and Abraxas Malfoy were related. Abraxas had fallen off his broom during a Quidditch match last year, broke his arm in two places, continued the game and then walked to the hospital wing unaided and his face stoic. "I wouldn't mind a pain reliever though," he admitted purely as an afterthought. The pain was running down the side of his throat and further still causing sore and stiffness in his shoulder, and the healer prodding at it hadn't helped matters either.
"You've been quite lucky, it seems to be healing just fine, and you do understand how dangerous it was to leave before I had ensured you were healing properly?" Chang admonished the careless teenager.
"I honestly didn't think anyone would care," Harry admitted quietly, Poppy had never came to find him for Merlin's sake, the rules here were a lot more secure than they were in the future. Between the tests that get done on the students when they first came to Hogwarts, then the tests each year to ensure the students were fit enough to play Quidditch to how concerned everyone was over him it was confusing for him, he wasn't used to it. The blatant look of worry and anger on Slughorn's face when he saw him, now this?
Chang sighed, putting the paperwork of Hadrian's latest scan on the table beside her as she sat down on the stool, "You aren't used to being anyone's concern are you, Hadrian? It's quite obvious, but things are different now. We might have hundreds of students roaming the halls, but it doesn't mean we let any slip through our fingers - especially if they've been hurt. Just make sure - heaven forbid - if you end up in my hospital again that you wait until you're giving the all clear."
"Tell that to professor Dumbledore," Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I don't think he likes me very much, he keeps looking at me and sometimes he even glares at me as if I've done something wrong." Harry had to hold in a snort, doesn't like him very much, that was a good one. Hopefully bringing that to the attention of the teachers would make life even more difficult for Dumbledore. Eventually he was going to do whatever it took to get rid of him, there was no way he was going to let Dumbledore become Headmaster - he just couldn't - not after all the damage he was going to do. Right now it was best to start small, work up to something big, so he would be trusted - despite the fact Dumbledore hadn't yet risen to ultimate fame by defeating Grindelwald he was still well liked by staff and students at Hogwarts. If he went in guns blazing it might cause a big backfire.
Chang glanced at the teenager in concern, worried that things were a bit too much for him, "Remain seated, I'll go get that potion for you." she informed him before she was off.
'Death, am I going about it right?' Harry wondered his eyes closed his lips twitched when he felt the usual invasive feeling of his mind being opened up as if he didn't have the strongest shields one was possible of having. It felt like forever since he'd spoken to him but really, it wasn't.
'You want to know if the public will be on your side?' Death summarised.
'Yes,' Harry confirmed, wondering whether Death was reading and seeing all his thoughts or if he just knew everything being what and who he was.
'What is the entity of your plan?' Death asked, making Harry curious.
'You don't already know?' Harry couldn't help but tease him smirking internally.
'Your plans are overlapping,' Death replied a little dryly, 'At this moment in time I cannot give an answer without knowing fully what your plans are.'he was on the cusp of deciding whether or not to bring Grindelwald down and actually prevent Dumbledore's rise to fame. As he had told Harry, they were overlapping, making it impossible for him to know whether it would work - whether he had chosen for sure to go after Grindelwald. After this discussion he would be able to give him a definitive answer.
'Interesting, so it's all hanging on whether I do something isn't it?' Harry mused speculatively. 'Something I'm thinking about doing'
'Indeed' Death replied, unsurprised by Harry's grasp on the matter, he had always been smarter than he let on, even as a young child. He'd wanted so badly to fit in that he'd pretended to be a mediocre wizard, except in his favourite classes - leaving the smarts to Hermione Granger. It was why he had been able to run and hide from them for so long, those idiots he'd called friends had been so sure they knew him that they'd been chasing their own tails for years before they'd cornered him and almost killed him - and would have if not for the gifts he had given the boy. It had been pure luck on their part, and luck that Harry had been weakened physically and mentally due to all he'd endured. Now he was better, at least as well as he would ever get after everything that had happened. That's not to say this life would be all sunshine and daises, but at least he wouldn't be stabbed in the back - at least not if he could help it.
Harry thought back on what he'd been thinking just a while ago, it had mostly been about Dumbledore, then just like that he realized what Death was hinting at. 'Let me guess, whether I decide to actually defeat Grindelwald myself?'
'Got it in one,' Death replied, 'You are best waiting until you graduate, around about the same time Dumbledore took him out in your time. I think you realize by now you can't save everyone' or whether he even wanted to. Harry wasn't the saviour he had been all those years ago, he was just plain and simply a survivor. He'd save someone if he could, if it happened in front of him, but he was done worrying about nameless, faceless people he couldn't save.
'And that will work?' Harry pressed cautiously.
'You must understand this, Harry, Dumbledore will always have people on his side, he's very good at getting people to see him side. The majority of the people won't care or believe him if you do defeat Grindelwald, you will be the hero, but you know yourself what comes with being in the light of the public and as a hero.' Death advised leaving it on the table for him to decide on his own. 'Chang has returned' he added, leaving his mind, knowing Harry wouldn't be able to focus on both of them at once, and she would just end up concerned that he'd hit his head when he fell after being bitten, if he remained unfocused for any length of time.
"Drink this, it will make you feel better," Chang said, handing over the medium grade pain reliever, she didn't give out high grade pain relievers unless she had to - they were very addictive much like Dreamless sleep draught. Hadrian had already been on a high dose when he was first brought into Hogwarts.
"Thank you," Harry murmured gratefully sighing softly as it got to work, aches and pains he didn't realize he'd even had leaving as well as the throbbing on his neck and shoulder.
"If you are still in pain tomorrow morning, come here and I can give you something for it," Chang informed him, she didn't just hand them out, especially not pain relief potions. No, she kept an eye on all of those, and never gave them out; they had to come here for it. They never got more than she prescribed either.
"Okay," Harry nodded his agreement as the healer took back the empty vial she'd measured out for him and slid it into her apron. She would clean it out as she did to all others and returned them to Horace so they could be reused.
"Good, now don't do anything too strenuous, get some rest and let your body recover, it's had a hell of a shock, if not I'll have you back here before you can protest." Chang warned him.
"I have detention," Harry told her, "But I'll rest," and do the homework he had as well, Harry hopped off the bed, ready to return to the common room, for all of ten to twenty minutes before he had to leave for detention. With a little luck he could get one of the essays done before he did. "Bye," he added sliding out of the room before the healer could say anything or actually force him to stay.
Albus stepped into Hogs Head Inn, as usual the floor was so filthy that it looked as though it didn't have a floor but rather the building had been built around the earth on the ground. The rest of the building wasn't much better either, the small dirty, dingy room was disgusting, you could barely see out of the window that was encrusted with all sorts. He absolutely hated being here, for more than one reason, as always Aberforth's establishment didn't have many customers, and those that were, kept their heads covered, and kept themselves to themselves. Why anyone would wish to stay in such a place continued to elude Albus, but from time to time the building did come in handy for things he needed or meetings he wished to keep on the down low.
Albus barely refrained from flinching at the sight of his glaring brother, even after all those years it hadn't gotten better. His brother hated him so completely they could barely stand being in the same room as one another for longer than a second. He didn't even have to read his mind to know what he was thinking, blaming him for what happened to their sister. Aberforth needn't bother; nobody could hate themselves more than he did for what happened. Regardless of the glare, he walked over to the counter that his brother was futilely trying to clean - it was truly a lost cause.
"What do you want?" Aberforth asked, a scowl crossing his face, he wasn't in the mood to deal with his scheming brother.
"We need to talk." Albus said looking around almost warily, he didn't want anyone hearing what he was about to say. If word actually had gotten out his question would be seen as affirmative to the 'gossip' and that was the last thing he needed.
"Its here or my office," Aberforth stated sharply, satisfaction coursing through him at the way he paled. Oh, he knew Albus wouldn't go near his office, never had done and probably never would. The portrait of their sister hung there, and the guilt prevented the fool from going near her.
"This is important," Albus pressed, swallowing thickly, avoiding looking at the door that led to Aberforth's so called 'office'.
Aberforth just looked at his brother blankly; the chance of it being important was actually slim to none. Both their versions of what was important differed, and it always had.
"Aberforth," Albus groused at his brother, irritation setting in.
Aberforth just walked away, refilling a customer's glass and accepting the money for it, putting it in the till. Albus would fold if what he wanted to talk about was important to him, and it obviously was if he was here. He was just beginning to wipe down the far side of the bar where there weren't any customers at the moment when his brother entered his vision again looking extremely vexed.
"Did you tell anyone about Ariana?" Dumbledore whispered urgently, his voice wavering just slightly at saying her name, it felt like forever since he'd actually said it.
Aberforth's interest was peaked, someone knew about his little sister - enough information to rattle his brother? That was fascinating. "Just who do you think I've told?" he replied flippantly. And he was rattled; he was actually so badly affected Albus didn't even think to put up a silencing charm.
"A student at Hogwarts knows I have to know what you've said!" Albus hissed under his breath, his blue eyes darting nervously around the room.
"A Hogwarts student?" Aberforth queried, his eyes lighting up slightly, "Who?" he'd had a few students from Hogwarts in during the summer, which was unusual, normally his place was avoided - although admittedly a few of the older Slytherin's came in during Hogsmeade visits.
"Hadrian Peverell," Dumbledore informed him, some of his anger bleeding out just saying that name. "Did you say anything?"
Aberforth was beyond impressed, his brother was scared of a Hogwarts student, no, and he knew why he was scared. He didn't want the news to get out, the only reason he kept quiet was out of respect for their father. His dad had died to keep Ariana safe from St. Mungo's, from a life of imprisonment in a hospital. Say what they like, Ariana would have been stuck there it was no better than a jail cell. Not that being out had truly helped, the whole incident had hurt his sister, incarcerated and killed their father and eventually caused the death of their mother. "Long brown hair? Green eyes?"
"Yes, what did you say to him?" Dumbledore hissed out believing that his brother had said something.
"Nothing, but I did see him around during the summer, he came in regularly," Aberforth replied, "If he's a Peverell as you say, you do remember were our sister was buried don't you?" he added caustically. "Ever thought he got curious and did his homework?"
Albus' jaw came slightly unhinged at his brother's words; to be honest he hadn't thought of that at all.
"Let me guess, your bright mind thought either I had told him or Grindelwald had?" Aberforth sneered the word out, he absolutely loathed the wizard and if he ever saw him again nothing would stop him getting his revenge on the bastard that had helped destroy his family. He said helped because Albus was as much to blame as Grindelwald. Seeing his brother flush slightly confirmed his suspicion. "Get out of my pub!" he spat but kept his voice low so not to draw attention. Accusing a child of being in league with Grindelwald, Hadrian Peverell looked to be around fourteen or fifteen years old. If it hadn't been a Slytherin he would best the idea wouldn't have ever crossed Albus' mind, he was so prejudice that it made him grit his teeth in fury. He'd always been that way, even back at Hogwarts he'd refused to associate with them, he was an utter hypocrite given what he'd wanted to do at the age of eighteen.
Albus looked around cautiously, relaxing a little when he realized his brother hadn't drawn attention to them. Knowing his temper, he knew he should leave, and that's what he did, with a regretful sigh he walked away.
Neither brother noticed the shadow in the corner, carefully concealed especially his blonde hair that gave off like a halo, his grey eyes glimmering victoriously. He knew someone who would love to get their hands on this information, it was time to write to Hogwarts, write to Tom.
Harry opened the door to the potions classroom, finding the professor and Hagrid already there. He could feel the remnants of magic lingering in the air, he hoped Slughorn had taken his suggestion and actually made Hagrid take an oath or vow. If he had concentrated hard enough, he probably could figure it out but he was too tired for that. He might be used to pain, but his body still tired and he was that, extremely tired.
"Hello, professor," Harry said as he walked in, and took a seat, his bag thumping on the floor where he dropped it, while he waited on Slughorn telling him what to do. He stiffened slightly when he heard sniffling; Hagrid it seemed was just as emotional as a teenager as he was sixty years later.
"Did everything go well with healer Chang?" Horace enquired.
"Yeah, she let me go, I promise," Harry replied, knowing what he was really asking - or he assumed so anyway. He honestly couldn't tell with this time, he wasn't used to teachers caring or bloody listening.
"Good," Horace said firmly, making a mental note to speak to her later, find out how he was really doing, he looked utterly exhausted.
"What do you want me to do?" Harry then asked after a few minutes of silence.
"Do you have homework to complete?" Horace asked, standing in front of the teenager, he would give him a short detention then send him to his common room.
"Um, just Ancient Runes," Harry replied surprised. He'd had the time to complete his Transfiguration homework, which was easy for him. Nott had tried to borrow his Charms homework (which was three feet) since he and Tom were the best at it, and they never asked Tom so it was him they asked. Which of course he'd agreed to for a boon, to pick up whenever he wanted to, since it was due in tomorrow Nott agreed somewhat reluctantly - boons were never taken lightly by the uptight purebloods. Uptight they may be, but when they granted favours they did pay you back, loyalty was everything to them.
"Then why don't you do that? Afterwards go back to the common room," Horace answered, before moving over to Hagrid and placing a large roll of unused parchment in front of the teenager and gave him a pointed look.
So lines it was, Harry couldn't see what he was writing though, but seeing him hunched over in school uniform was bloody weird. Sure he'd gotten a glimpse when he was twelve years old, but it had been dark in the memory Tom had shown him in the diary. He hadn't gotten a good look, and he only saw Hagrid occasionally around the school, it wasn't as if they were in the same classes or anything. Shaking off his thoughts, he picked up his bag, and took out his Ancient Runes book and some parchment, ink and a quill before absently beginning his newest assignment.
During the next hour or so there was silence in the room, besides the scribbling of the quills against the parchment. Slughorn was sitting at his desk, eating his way through a box of chocolates while reading a book looking as though he was enjoying himself. Occasionally drinking from a goblet, and Harry highly suspected it wasn't pumpkin juice. The urge to tell him if he wasn't careful he would end up extremely well rounded in the years to come was strong but he refrained. He obviously did enough exercising to keep the weight off; either that or he hadn't built his 'network' to the extent that he got sent things every day yet.
Flicking through his book, he looked up part of his answer before writing it in his own words; he was distracted by Hagrid speaking. Looking up he noticed that Slughorn had disappeared. Great, just great. Then he actually looked at Hagrid and was taken aback, he looked as though he'd been playing with his half-brother. That is to say he had a large bruise on his face, Harry winced seeing it, and the Slytherin's surely hadn't done that? It was difficult to use magic on a half-giant they were impervious to a lot of magic…surely no student had the ability to cause that much harm to him?
"What?" Harry finally said none of what the half-giant had said had sunk in.
"I am sorry, I didn't mean fir this ti happen," Hagrid said, his beetle black eyes filled with sadness tugging at what was left of Harry's heartstrings.
"What did you think would happen by bringing in a bloody wolf-cub? Tearing it away from its family?!" Harry snapped, regretting it immediately, damn Hagrid to hell.
"I…I…" Hagrid was at loss for words, looking away guiltily.
"What do you want to do when you leave Hogwarts?" Harry asked, changing the subject completely.
Hagrid beamed at him despite his sore face, as if Harry had just forgiven him. "I want ter work with animals, dragons mostly."
"Then leave off the pets you want to care for now, if you keep this up you'll be expelled, which you would have been if it had bitten one of the other Slytherin's." Harry stated sharply. "Just concentrate on your schooling, and then you'll get your wish of working with dragons. Which means no more bloody werewolf cubs or whatever else you want to look after…if its not an owl, cat or toad do not bring it here or anywhere near Hogwarts." he warned him, feeling a bit hypocritical since he technically allowed a Basilisk to remain under Hogwarts.
Hagrid dumbly nodded his head.
"What happened to you?" Harry then demanded gesturing to his face, he would bet part of the bruise was hidden by his long shaggy black hair.
"I fell," Hagrid replied immediately.
"Anyone help you fall?" Harry asked suspiciously, knowing a rehearsed answer when he saw one.
"No," Hagrid denied, not quite meeting Harry's eyes.
"Slytherins?" Harry demanded, his eyes narrowing further.
Hagrid merely shook his head, actually meeting Harry's eyes, out of all the people the Slytherin's hadn't been the ones to 'teach him a lesson' he might not be the sharpest knife in the drawer so he had noticed it and kept waiting for the other shoe to drop and for them to join in but so far they'd done nothing.
"Then who?" Harry snapped, irritated by the vagueness.
Hagrid said nothing, but their short discussion was interrupted by their professor returning, Hagrid went back to his lines.
"Finished?" Horace asked, glancing at Hadrian who was no longer writing.
"Yes, sir," Harry replied honestly, he had finished his homework.
"Good, you may go, no dawdling go straight to the common room," Horace instructed.
"I will, goodnight professor," Harry said, mentally making a note to get to the bottom of what was wrong with Hagrid. He might not be overly fond of him, but bullying? He detested bullying with a passion - too many years of being a target himself had ensured that. Standing up, he rolled up his parchment and slid his things back into his bag, making sure the ink top was secure - the last thing he wanted was his ink spilling all over his new books and bag.
"Goodnight, Hadrian," Slughorn answered as he reclaimed his seat, the clicking of the door letting him know Hadrian had left the room.