Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters	By : RestraintAbandoned Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Tom Views: 9001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, the Harry Potter world, or the Harry Potter characters. No money is being made from this fan fiction.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 1

It was the morning after his cousin had paid his humble home a visit, and Hadrian was sick with worry. The boy sat at the edge of his loft, contemplating on just what was to be done.

Riddle had said he didn’t want his title. Hadrian didn’t know whether he believed him. Sure, the man seemed positively disgusted with the House of Gaunt. However, if Riddle had a pureblood name he would have much more opportunity then he would with just his muggle name.

The Gaunts used to be well known and highly respected…a hundred or two years ago. From what Hadrian had seen, most Pureblood society assumed they were extinct. No one had any idea of the Gaunt's Slytherin connection. Having the title of Slytherin…

Tom Riddle would surely want that.

It was too bad for Riddle. His cousin most likely had no idea that title could still be claimed; treasures could still be inherited. It was unfortunate that Hadrian wasn’t entirely certain he himself would be able to claim it. It wasn’t exactly a normal last blood relation comes and claims the inheritance through a simple blood test kind of deal. But the boy did take comfort in the fact that as long as he didn’t inform Riddle of it, there was no threat to it.

But there was enough threat Hadrian's current position. The boy was not officially claimed as Heir. Riddle would not be able to claim the Heir position without the Gaunt Lord's approval, but he may be able to challenge Morfin for the title of Lord. Morfin, an aged, unmarried, illiterate man with no heir. In addition, that history of violence against muggles, wizards, even Ministry officials. However, the violence against muggles may actually not count against the man. Sadly, just Morin's required presence at a Lordship challenge would work against his father. It was quite possible Riddle could win.

That would not do.

Having an official heir would protect Morfin's position. But to do that…

Morfin had to leave the shack. Go out in public.

'Oh dear.'

This may prove difficult.

Green eyes lowered and swept over to the man, who was sulking in a chair by the fire. His Father had been in a foul mood all morning. Hef had not been pleased that he was stunned by 'his sister's dirty half-blood.' Yes, Hadrian had lied. Really, anyone who had to live with the man would do the same.

"Say, Morfin, isn't it time we got out for a bit?" the boy hissed to his Father.

"Got out?" Morfin asked. "Ta where?"

"I was thinking Gringotts."

"Gringotts? Have me bring my shame out and be seen?" His father's voice was steadily rising in anger. "No!"

"Don’t worry. No one will know." The boy tried to reassure. "I've been out plenty of times. Not one person has ever had any idea; goblins certainly wouldn’t." Actually, people often first assumed he was a poor mudblood. Until they heard Gaunt.

Fueling Morfin's family pride might help.

"And if anyone did, father, they would see that even a half-blood of our line outclasses the purest of their inferior blood." Hadrian convinced, sending Morfin his most charming smile.

That seemed to do it. Morfin's wretched face morphed into a lopsided smile as he stood. "Aint that right. No ones got blood like ours. What are you wantin' with Gringotts?"

"To be claimed as your heir."

Morfin's smile immediately curled into a grimace. It didn’t make him look any prettier. "You think to be Heir? A half-blood become Heir?! Never! Dishonorable, shameful, unfit, filthy boy!"

Hadrian jumped, forced to dodge what looked like a rather nasty curse. The young wizard examined where the curse had exploded with unamused exasperation. There was a good size hole in the side of his loft.

So his father still thought he would sire a nice pureblood son? As if Hadrian would ever let that happened. If Morfin did manage to find a willing….or unwilling….pureblood witch, the man would find he was quite sterile. Hadrian's doing, of course. Morfin was all Hadrian had, and the boy was unwilling to share him with anyone.

It was a strange relationship they shared. There was hate, but an odd sort of caring also existed. Morfin was mostly the source of all of Hadrian's companionship; a form of love was bound to happen. A possessive, clingy sort of love Hadrian supposed.

Most of the hate Hadrian had felt for his father had slowly transformed to pity over the years. He understood the man much more then when he was younger.

His understanding of Morfin led him to the following conclusion: Morfin would rather have his dirty bastard as heir then his sister's as lord.

"Morfin, Riddle said he's going to steal your lordship title."

The man's temper exploded.

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Hadrian tried in vain to hide his self satisfied smirk as he sat across from a mean looking little goblin. Morfin sullenly stood across the room.

With the possibility of Riddle stealing his lordship title, the boy had managed to convince his father the best way to deal with it, was to take preventive action by allowing him to be 'temporary' heir. Morfin grudgingly agreed, after a couple fits. There little home now boasted several new and rather drafty windows.

The Goblin addressed him. "Finger, please," it demanded, somehow managing to make please sound rude.

The young wizard offered a slender finger to the goblin. Hadrian watched impassively as the horrid creature pricked his finger, a good deal deeper and rougher then needed. The goblin tightly held his hand over an old and yellowed parchment.

Blood dripped onto the parchment. The boy suspected it was more blood then necessary. Goblins were vicious little things. Green eyes studied the parchment. Hadrian could not notice anything different. Apparently the Goblin did.

"Everything seems to be in order. The title of Heir, you say?" the goblin asked, sounding like he would rather be doing anything else.

The boy gave a slight nod.

"You don’t want to claim the Gaunt Lordship?"

Why would the Goblin ask that? He had to know that Lord Gaunt was in this very room, waiting to give Hadrian permission for the Heir title.

"No. That's my Father's." Hadrian was not cruel enough to try to take that from his father. Even if he wanted to, the boy was too young to challenge an adult who already held the title.

A sharp, terrible grin split the goblin's ugly face. "No? If you're certain…."

"I am very certain," Hadrian snapped.

That sharp-toothed grin stretched wider; it aggravated Hadrian. What was this goblin was playing at?

"Sign here, please."

After Hadrian finished, the Goblin stood and said simply, "All finished."

"Finished? But don’t you need Morfin?" the boy asked, confused.

The Goblin cackled, as if Hadrian had asked something incredibly stupid. Its beady eyes filled with malicious mirth as he observed Hadrian.

The boy apprehensively studied the creature. Hadrian had the feeling he was missing something.

"No; that is not necessary. Have a good day." the goblin dismissed them.

"Are you sure I don’t need Morfin?"

"Yes. He isn't needed for your Heir claim. Good day."

Hadrian, still befuddled, made his way out, beckoning to Morfin. They quickly exited Gringotts.

The Goblin watched them go, chuckling.

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

A cool breeze slid over Hadrian as they left the Gringott entrance.

"Damn Goblins. I don’t like em. C'mon let's go home."

Hadrian looked back at his father. A small smile turned his lips at his father's petulant mood. It often felt as though Hadrian were the parent and Morfin the child. He found he could not disagree with Morfin on Goblins, though. They were an unpleasant sort.

"We do still need to replenish our supplies, Morfin. It shouldn’t take-" the boy was cut off with an oomph as he collided with a solid wall of robe adorned chest.

Hadrian stumbled back, narrowly avoiding a fall. The boy snapped his eyes to the man he had bumped into. A tall and longhaired blonde wizard. He wore some of the richest robes Hadrian had ever seen. The boy became uncomfortably aware of his ratty, ripped garments. He cranked his neck to peer up at the face. Aristocratic features with silver eyes. All the evidence pointed to rich pureblood.�@

The blonde wizard looked Hadrian up and down. Unveiled loathing accompanied silver eyes. The man looked startled as his gaze landed on Morfin, but it quickly shifted to repulsion. The wizard held his head higher; as if he knew without a doubt, he was their superior.

The green-eyed boy grew irate. His clothes were poor, yes. Nevertheless, this man was no superior of Hadrian's.

"Do watch where you're going. I would rather not have my robes mucked up by filthy Mudbloods," the man arrogantly drawled.

"Mudbloods?! We are no Mudbloods! Our blood is pure! Better then yur own." Morfin screamed.

Silver eyes turned to Morfin. After examining Morfin with clear distaste, the man haughtily replied, "I greatly doubt that. The Malfoy name is old and highly respected. We have the purest blood and always produce magically strong offspring. Not to mention, Malfoys are always pleasing to the eye."

The man, Malfoy, seemed to hold a lot of family pride and self worth. Hadrian had heard a bit about the Malfoy's before. This man did not impress him.

"Never heard of you," Hadrian informed Malfoy, with a cheeky grin.

That seemed to ruffle the man's feathers. The handsome face contorted into a grimace

"Of course the likes of you have never heard of the Malfoy name. It's too good for ignorant, rag wearing-""But I've heard of the Weasleys. Why should I waste my precious time on you? You're less known then the Weasleys! Step aside, we would like to leave your common company," Hadrian tried to imitate the Malfoy's earlier arrogant drawl.

The boy found immense satisfaction in Malfoy's following reaction. A red hue covered that milky skin, brows furrowed, face pulled back into a snarl. The man angrily sputtered, "The Weasleys are nothing compared to the Malfoys! We are far better wizards then those blood traitors! You know your own sort, boy! My family can be traced back hundreds of -"

"Only hundreds?" Hadrian jubilantly cried. "How sad for you. My bloodline can be traced back thousands of years! Hundreds? You're practically a family of old Mud Bloods!"

"You tell 'im son!" Morfin encouraged. The boy's eyes slid to his father. A warm feeling pooled in Hadrian's chest at Morfin's rare approval. His father wore a large grin, displaying rotten and yellowed teeth, as he watched Hadrian with excitement. He shared a smile with Morfin, before looking back at Malfoy.

A wand was thrust into the boy's face. Malfoy looked livid. "I will not suffer such disrespect by a filthy little nobody dressed in rags!" the man hissed. Why was Hadrian always judged on his clothes first?

Hadrian decided to do something no respectable witch or wizard would ever expect.

The boy pulled his leg back, and swung his foot full force into Malfoy's groin. The wizard crumpled to the ground, cursing, and clutching his crotch. Blonde hair splayed out on dirt covered stone

Hadrian spared Morfin a glace. Grinning, the boy told his father, "Let's head off." As the boy turned he almost fell forward, from Morfin's heavy pats on his back. The elder wizard cackled as he started walking, spitting on Malfoy as he went.

Hadrian's grin stretched wider. Following Morfin, Hadrian stepped on Malfoy' golden hair for further insult. He laughed at the man's strangled insults.

A nice, warm feeling bubbled in the boy's chest as he watched his father lead the way. A rare true smile on Morfin's hideous face.

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

By nightfall, Hadrian stood outside Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. The boy was forced to wait for an invitation through the wards.

Through the front door came the face of Pollux Black. Pale skin, dark hair, blue eyes, handsome features. The man aged well and his look was signature Black. All Blacks had pale skin; most had black hair and blue eyes. Once in awhile there was an odd blonde.

That sightly face wore a frown as the man spotted Hadrian. Pollux turned away, without even a greeting. The boy felt the powerful wards open up to him. Heading towards the door, Hadrian heard the man call for Alphard.

"Alphard, that friend of yours is here."

Pollux knew Hadrian's name; he just didn’t use it often. While the man didn't seem to mind Hadrian horribly much, he didn't particularly like him either. Which was too bad really. The boy admired Pollux. The man had dignity, intelligence, and power. He was even somewhat kind. As kind as a rich pureblood fanatic could be.

Pollux hadn't even disowned Alphard when the boy had sent his allowance to Pollux's estranged squib brother, Marius Black. Irma Black, Alphard's mother, disagreed, quite strongly, with letting Alphard go unpunished. Pollux didn’t even fight Alphard becoming acquainted with someone as poor as Hadrian. Another thing Irma disagreed with.

But that could be because the man thought Hadrian was pure. The boy decided it best this particular family remain ignorant to his dirty blood.

As Hadrian walked through the entrance, he spotted Irma Black; moon face disdainful as she glared at the boy. The young wizard held back his own sneer. As much as he hated the woman, it wouldn’t do to fight with his only sort-of-friend's family.

That, however, may not even earn him the ire of the Blacks. It was hard to like or respect Irma Black; unpleasant, a bit dim, and less then average magical power. Her husband hated her. Even her own children had a hard time respecting her. Alphard outright loathed his mother. It wasn’t hard to see she wasn’t a Black by blood. She came from the far inferior Crabbe line.

Poor Pollux stuck with that. 'A perfect example,' Hadrian thought, 'of arranged marriages gone horribly wrong.'

Hadrian spotted Alphard descending the staircase. A pleasant smile graced his features. Alphard took after his father, almost an exact younger version of Pollux. He was a couple of years older then Hadrian, though it didn’t feel like it to Hadrian. He liked Alphard much better then Cygnus, whom was Hadrian's age.

"Hadrian, nice to see you again." Alphard warmly greeted Hadrian.

"Hello Alphard, same to you."

Alphard scowled at his mother, who not making any effort to hide her dislike of Hadrian.

"Come on, let's go somewhere more private."

Hadrian readily agreed.

Entering Alphard's room, Hadrian made his way over to the bed. The boys sat side by side on the plush mattress.

"So I met a Malfoy today." Hadrian broke the silence.

"Oh? And what did you think?" Alphard asked a small smile playing on the corner of his lips.

"Disappointing. Malfoy didn’t live up to your inflated views of his family. That man was a pompous arsehole."

Alphard's flowing laughter brushed across the younger wizard's ears. "Oh they are all like that. They're very agreeable if they wish to be. And they are powerful wizards, Hadrian, magically and politically. Don’t go and make enemies out of them."

"Too late for that."

Alphard's eyes immediately found his. "What do you mean 'too late for that'? What did you do, Hadrian?" Alphard's voice held a rough note as he spoke.

"I put the man in his place. By the end of our encounter, he was at my feet; right where he belongs." Hadrian smiled, gazing unfocusedly at the wall; it was a good memory.

A hand roughly gripped his own. The boy was pulled closer to the elder. Green eyes met blue eyes; far too close to his own.

"Hadrian! You don’t want to mess with the Malfoys! They can, and will, make life very difficult for you." Alphard whispered. "And I can't help you there! Father wouldn’t offer you any protection. He's on good terms with the Malfoys. Friendly, even. He wouldn’t dare ruin that for you!"

The younger boy pulled back and angrily retorted, "Well I'm not going to smile and roll over for the arse. If he had better manners I would be more inclined to show him mine."

Alphard let out a long-suffering sigh. "Just be careful and try to avoid them I suppose. It's a good thing you're not interested in politics or the ministry. Because those are not options for you anymore, trust me."

"No loss there," Hadrian flippantly said.

Alphard let out an even heavier sigh. "You should really take it more seriously," Alphard scolded lightly.

"Anyways, I didn’t come here to talk about the Malfoy's. Besides begging for the use of your library, I wished to ask about a visitor father and I received."

"Visitor? Who?" Alphard curiously asked, eyes on Hadrian.

"Tom Riddle. Ever heard of him?"

Alphard went pale. The boy's interest rose. Hadrian didn’t expect that reaction. Neither did he expect the following reaction. Reactions.

Alphard stared dumbfounded. "T-Tom Riddle? Did I hear you right?"

"Yep."

"Oh no," the elder boy whispered. "Forget the Malfoys. What did you do Hadrian? Why would Tom Riddle visit you?" Alphard voice rose steadily.

"I didn’t do anything! I take it you do know him then?"

He's…a friend of my Father's," Alphard's eyes cut into Hadrian's, eyes filled to the brim with worry. "What did he want? It can't be good."

Hadrian decided to hold back the fact that Tom Riddle was his cousin. Just until he learnt more about him. His cousin was proving to be as dangerous as Hadrian suspected; Alphard seemed afraid of Riddle.

"Something about how he thought Hogwarts would be good for me. Nothing important."

Alphard looked visibly relieved; shoulders sagged, jaw unclenched, and blue eyes didn’t look nearly as worried. "Oh good. Just a routine school visit then. That's very relieving."

"I don’t know if like him much."

Alphard's face was suddenly very close to his own. The boy could see all the different shades of blue those eyes held. A strand of dark hair hung less then an inch away from Hadrian's face.

"It doesn’t matter if you don’t like him. You do not do anything to upset Riddle. He's extremely dangerous. Having Riddle as an enemy won't just troubling for you, Hadrian, it will be fatal." Alphard warned him in hushed and grave voice.

That was ominous. He may have already made an enemy out of his cousin. Intense curiosity and a feeling of dread clashed within Hadrian.

"So tell me more about Riddle. How does he know your father?"

"I don’t know much about him. Just that he's a powerful friend of father's, and he's not a nice man."

After that, Alphard remained strangely tight-lipped on the subject of Riddle. He wouldn’t tell Hadrian a single thing more.

Hadrian was sure he knew more.

The rest of the evening, the two boys spent in the library. Hadrian got to look up some much needed cleaning and home maintenance spells.

Alphard stared at Hadrian with worry in his blue eyes for much of the night.

It made Hadrian uncomfortable. Surely they weren't close enough for Alphard to be that concerned with him? Hadrian didn’t think so anyway.�@

*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*:*

Hadrian awoke the next day to scraping at the window. In an instant, Hadrian was down the ladder with his wand drawn.

He needn't have worried. A large eagle was scraping at the window, carrying a letter. The boy let the owl in. As soon as he took the letter, Hadrian almost dropped it in surprise.

It was sealed with the gaunt family crest. Odd. His father was sleeping in his usual spot by the fire. On the opposite side, his name was written in elegant handwriting.

Hadrian didn’t have a good feeling about this letter.

Hesitantly opening the letter Hadrian read:

Hadrian Paracelsus Gaunt

Heir of Gaunt,

I require your presence immediately. You and I have a few matters that need discussing.

Lord of Gaunt

What the-? The Lord of Gaunt was sleeping not fifteen feet away! He couldn’t have sent this letter!

The green-eyed boy turned to the owl to send a reply. The owl was gone. There was sharp tugging sensation at his navel. Panic coursed through him and the boy quickly tried to drop the letter.

It was already too late.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Paracelsus, and Other Gauntly Matters