Chapter Text
Hadrian woke slowly, the faint ache in his palms reminding him of yesterday, even though Tom had healed them. The room was dim, quiet.
Tom was already awake, sitting on the edge of his bed. Back straight, Eyes fixed on Hadrian the moment he stirred.
“Good morning,” Tom said.
Hadrian rubbed his eyes. “Morning.”
Tom didn’t look away. He just watched him — the same way he had for two weeks, but now with something sharper underneath. Something hungry for truth and frankly, that terrified him.
“Your hands,” Tom said quietly. “Do they hurt?”
Hadrian shook his head. “No. You fixed them.”
Tom’s jaw tightened. “Good.”
Silence stretched — he knew that Tom was going to ask something he did not want to answer.
Tom leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees, gaze locked on Hadrian like he was dissecting him.
“Hadrian,” he said, voice low, “why weren’t you afraid of her?”
Hadrian froze.
Tom’s eyes narrowed. “Everyone fears the matron. Everyone. But me and now you—”
He tilted his head, studying him.
“You looked her in the eye and talked back to her, why?”
Hadrian swallowed. “Tom—”
“No,” Tom cut in, voice clipped. “Don’t evade this one. Give me the truth, Peverall”
Hadrian’s pulse spiked. He didn't know if this was something he wanted to talk about or if he sould even talk about it.
A whisper slid through his mind.
Tell him the whole story
Hadrian whispered back, in his head.
He’ll think I’m weak.
Death’s voice curled through him like smoke.
No. He will think you are honest. That's what you need right now. It's one truth.
And then the presence faded
Tom’s tone softened, but only in volume — not intensity.
“What happened to you,” he asked, “that made her seem harmless enough to be so bold?”
Hadrian stared at the blanket, fingers curling into the fabric.
His breath stuttered.
He looked down at his hands, healed but still trembling faintly.
But Tom’s eyes were steady and waiting.
He didn’t want to say it. He didn’t want to remember. The truth is, he did want to talk to someone about it. No one ever really asked or listened to him when he tried. Dumbledore just said it was for his own safety, but he was never safe. When he went to McGonagall about staying at Hogwarts over the summer holidays, she shut him down.
Hadrian exhaled shakily.
“My aunt and uncle…” he started, voice thin. “They weren’t just unkind folks.”
Tom didn’t move.
Hadrian swallowed hard.
“They were the worst sorts of people. Any chance they got, they called me a freak. Every single day. Said weird things happened when I was around, and how it was embarrassing. Said I ruined everything just by existing.” which was true really, trouble follwed him everywhere, granted it was Voldemort's fault, but still he felt guilty.
Tom’s jaw tightened.
Hadrian kept going, the words spilling out like a dam cracking.
“They didn’t just… yell. Or ignore me. They—”
His voice broke.
“They starved me.”
Tom’s eyes snapped to his.
Hadrian’s voice shook. “Not… not forgetting meals. They withheld food. On purpose. Sometimes for days. Sometimes longer.”
Tom’s fingers curled into fists.
Hadrian’s breath hitched. “They’d… they’d put a plate in front of me and then take it away if I looked wrong.’ Or if I asked a question, or if their son wanted seconds.”His fingers curled into his palms,"id have to take food at night and hide it so I could eat just a little bit sometimes.
Tom inhaled sharply — a quiet, furious sound. Hadrian flinched at it.
He wasn’t used to anyone reacting like that to his abuse. Not with anger that wasn’t aimed at him. It was refreshing to see after years of being ignored. sure mrs. Weasly was mad when she found out, but she never did anything to help him.
Hadrian continued, voice cracking. trying to get it all out once before he burst.“They shoved me in a cupboard, under the stairs. There were no windows, no light besides a dim light bulb. I slept there, I stayed in there when they had gatherings, because again I was a freak. I lived there until I was eleven.”
Tom’s expression twisted — thankfully not pity. But it was a controlled rage.
Hadrian’s voice trembled. “They’d lock me in for hours, sometimes days, I never really knew how long, if I'm being honest."
Tom leaned forward, not saying anything at all, but his shoulders were more tense than he had ever seen. Tom’s hands curled tighter.
Hadrian’s voice grew smaller. “They made me do everything. All the cooking, all the cleaning, all the yard work, all the laundry. I was four when they started. Four.”
Tom’s breath hitched.
Hadrian kept going, tears burning behind his eyes.
“If I burned something, they’d hit me. If I dropped something, they’d hit me. If I did something… freakish… they’d—”
He swallowed hard.
“They’d drag me outside. Lock me out. Sometimes all night, sometimes in the rain. It didn't matter; my aunt and uncle never really cared about me. They said the neighbors couldn’t see me,That I’d embarrass them.”
Tom’s eyes darkened.
“And their son—” Hadrian’s voice faltered. “He’d chase me around with his friends. For fun. Like I was something to hunt. They let him. My aunt and uncle said it was needed because I'm an ungrateful freak.”
Tom inhaled sharply again — louder this time.
Hadrian flinched, but continued.
"Once I got to school, it got even worse. I did better that dudley in school, and it brought even more punishments. So I had to start dropping my grades on purpose"
Tom’s voice was a whisper of steel. “That’s why you don’t fear her. Because you’ve already lived through worse.”
Hadrian’s breath shook. “Nothing she does to me will ever be as bad as they did; they were supposed to be my family ."
The memories were already at the forefront of his mind even as he tried not to let them pass. The cupboard.The beatings.The chores.The hunger.The fear.
He tried his best to suppress his anger and his magic, but it was too late; he slipped.
A ripple in the air. The dust on the dresser is lifting again. The light flickering. The bedsprings creaking.
Hadrian gasped, trying to pull it back. His breathing was ragged, and worry crept in.
“I’m sorry— I can’t— it just—”
Tom’s eyes widened. He now had undeniable evidence that Hadrian had magic. There was no way he could deny anything now
He inhaled — slow, deliberate — like he was breathing in the magic itself. Like he could feel it. He could taste it and understand it.
His voice dropped to a whisper.
“You’re like me,” he grabbed Hadrian's wrists
Hadrian froze.
Tom leaned closer, eyes locked on him with a fierce, almost reverent intensity.
“You’re like me,” he repeated, softer this time. “I knew it. I knew there was something.”
Hadrian shook his head. “Tom—”
fuck. fuck.
Tom didn’t let him pull away.
He sat beside him, closer than before, their knees almost touching.
“You’re not a freak,” Tom said. “You’re powerful. Those muggles should never have laid a hand on a magical child like that”
Hadrian’s breath hitched.
Tom’s voice softened — not warm, but honest.
“And you’re not alone.”
Hadrian blinked, stunned. He never thought Tom fucking Riddle would say that to him. Ever.
Honestly, he shouldn't be surprised by this. He knew how he was treated, even when he got to Hogwarts, he was an outcast nobody looked at with respect at all, until he forced them.
Tom looked away for a moment, jaw tight, like he was forcing the next words out.
“My mother died before I knew her, in childbirth,” he said. “My father left before I was born. I grew up here with her, and she hates me too.”
Hadrian’s chest tightened.
Tom continued, voice low.
“She calls me unnatural. Wrong. Says I ruin things just by being alive.”
Hadrian stared.
"Many times she'd lock me in the basement because id fight back"
Tom turned back to him.
“And she’s right about one thing.”
Hadrian swallowed. “What?”
Tom’s eyes softened — barely, but enough to feel like a crack in stone.
He let his magic out just a bit .“Weird things happen around me, too.”
Hadrian’s magic stilled. Settling, like it recognized something familiar.
Tom watched him carefully.
“You’re not the only one,” he said. “And you’re not hiding from me anymore.”
Hadrian whispered, “Riddle… "
Tom’s answer was quiet, certain, and terrifyingly gentle.
“We’re the same.”
Tom didn’t say anything else and let go of Hadrian's hands as he got up.
He just stood there for a moment, staring at Hadrian like he was trying to memorize every breath he took.
Then he turned sharply and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.
Hadrian sat frozen on the bed.
His heart was still racing.His magic was still humming.And Tom’s words were still echoing in his head.
You’re like me.
Hadrian pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to steady himself.
A presence slid into his mind like a shadow stepping through a doorway.
Well, Death said dryly, That was faster than we planned.
Hadrian groaned. Please don’t start. I didn't think telling him about the Dursleys would lead to my magic flaring
Death chuckled — that somehow felt amused.
Hadrian flopped back on the bed. “He knew that day in the library”
Oh, I know, Death said. He inhaled your magic like it was oxygen. Very dramatic. Very him. Though he has a hunger to be around power full pepole
Hadrian covered his face with both hands. I'm so fucked ain't I
Yes, and no, Death said. He knows you’re like him. And he’s not going to let that go.
Hadrian’s stomach twisted. What am I supposed to do now
Death’s tone softened — just a little.
For now, you keep playing dumb. You don't know anything about magic
Hadrian swallowed. Okay, and the letter, when will that be here again
ah. Death sounded almost pleased. that arrives in two days.
Hadrian sat up fast. Two days .
“Two,” Death repeated. “Which means you have forty‑eight hours to keep Tom from tearing the orphanage apart, trying to figure out just how much you know about magic.”
Hadrian groaned again. Great. Well, wish me luck, I guess
Death’s presence flickered
Oh, and Hadrian
Hadrian sighed. What now
Death added, tone suddenly casual in a way that meant it absolutely wasn’t.
Hadrian narrowed his eyes.
Your wand, Death said. The one you’ll need
Hadrian blinked. What about it
It’s already been taken from where it originally ended up, Death said, and placed neatly on a shelf in Ollivander’s shop
Hadrian stared. You— you moved my wand
Of course, Death said. We can’t have you walking in with a wand you already own. That would be suspicious. Even for you
Hadrian rubbed his face. So Ollivander will think I’m choosing it for the first time
Exactly, Death said. Magic covers your tracks. No one will question it.
Hadrian let out a shaky breath. Death… thank you
Death’s presence softened, just a little.
You’re welcome, Hadrian.
Then, with a faint ripple of cold air:
But Death was already gone.
Leaving Hadrian alone in the quiet room, heart pounding, magic trembling under his skin, and Tom Riddle’s words echoing in his mind.
We’re the same.