Young Tomadrian (Tom x Hadrian)
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A random London street â 1935
There were two brown stones in the cobbled road.
They were slightly more rounded than their surrounding grey counterparts; misplaced slightly above the rest as if they were always meant to stand out. Although, the area was pretty mundane in itself aside from the occasional debris and littered streets.
He was in the same place.
Hadrian did not know where exactly in London this was by name, his parentsâor technically their house elf, Grimeashâdidnât exactly hand him a map every time they dumped him here as punishment. No, that would be too easy wouldnât it? What he did know is that a town was located further down the road, much more interesting than the run down little houses caging him on either side, or the piles of garbage staining an old wall yellow.
The streetlight flickered above. Faulty; it didnât provide any solace.
Heâd already covered a lot of ground so far despite the late hour thanks to his new clothes. You see, earlier, he stopped to help a boy fix his muggle toy. Hadrian wasnât familiar with it, but observation helped him solve the issue with the work of a stray wire and the twist of a screw. He remembered the way the boyâs face lit up with joy the moment it clicked back into motion, gratitude spilling out in an accent Hadrian had grown accustomed to since he first stepped into the slums of London.
âWe could use âands like yours round âere. Well âelpful,â the boy muttered in slight awe.
Hadrian watched the boy curiously. A lanky figure, shaggy hair, dirt on his hands and a fleck of dust on his cheek. He looked like the living embodiment of a cleaning broom, Hadrian thought.
âMighty cold out âere. Ainât it cold wearing that?â
A chill brushed his bare legs. Smooth. Smaller than the lanky boy. This dress he was forced to wear followed him like a curse. The body it covered was different and not anything like the boys Hadrian had come across. A girl is all they saw, and although he did not wish to appear as one, it had been mighty helpful in seeking help in the streets of London. Mothers eager to help and cooing over him, patting him on the cheek as if they had the right. It reminded him of that one encounter he had last time he was here â a woman, no⌠a liar. Hadrian didnât like her.
He survived; thatâs what mattered.
âA bit,â Hadrian finally murmured, brows twitching at his meek tone.
The boyâs brown gaze flickered to a house nearby. Brown bricks like the rest with a broken shilling roof. Inside, Hadrian spotted two figures through the cracked window pointing and jabbing their fingers into one another in a rage. They looked rather silly. Hadrian figured it was the boyâs home based on the look of solemn recognition in the boyâs eyes. He fidgeted with his toy for an awkward moment, eyes darting to the window and around the street as if he were about to commit a crime.
Eventually, whatever internal war the boy was fighting seemed to reach a conclusion in the form of rustling fabric.
âThis âere, yeah? âAve that.â
Hadrian watched as a dull blue jumper was shoved into his little hands, a tad too big for him but it was certainly warm. He held it tightly once he realised the boy had scurried off in a haphazard dash. Hadrian quickly looked around, not for the boy but for the reason he may have ran. Was it a muggle auror? An animal? Perhaps a criminal? His fears dwelled when the boy skidded out of a back alley with an old pair of shorts tinted slightly darker with long-term use.
âBit oldââ he paused, catching his breath. ââand all but donât mind it. Me muverâ threw âem out this morninâ so you can âave âem.â
It was warm, Hadrian agreed, but not only from the clothing itself. Sure, it was odd stuffing the dress under the shorts as they puffed up slightly, but⌠he felt⌠comfortable. For the first time, he felt like him. He pulled the large jumper over his head and awkwardly looked up at the boy with his blinking brown gaze.
âThank you,â he murmured quietly, eyes flickering down to stare at himself before his thoughts reminded him it was rude not to look others in the eye as they spoke.
âYeah âcourse,â responded the boy with a lopsided grin. âJust look out for the flatties âround âere. They always fink weâre up to no good.â
Muggle aurors, Hadrian mentally translated with a quiet nod.
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A main square in London â 1935
Perched upon a set of stone stairs, Hadrian watched as the remaining citizens of London headed in for the night. Those moving metal boxesâcars, Hadrian heard a muggle sayâwere no longer in sight. The only company he had was the faint rustle of a newspaper with the headline:
âAerodrome Gold Robbery: Daring Raid at London air terminalâ
âÂŁ21,000 in gold bullion stolen from vault!â
Hadrian didnât know what that was in galleons but it mustâve been a lot to make the papers. Sounds thrilling, he thought, dead of the night and making away with something that wasnât yours. Although, it's a bit foolish if youâre unequipped.
Hadrian watched as the wind blew it away, his small hand flying up to grasp the small cap he had snatched earlier from an old man passed out on the pavement. The man clearly wasnât responsible enough to look after himself, let alone this hat. Hadrian would take care of it.
He paused suddenly, gaze sliding down his nose as a strand of dark hair had, annoyingly, gotten stuck on his face. A groan left him as he removed it with pursed lips, shaking his head in annoyance before setting his eyes on his soft yet dirty palms.
âWonder what would happen if I just arrived home with shorter hair,â He murmured amusedly to himself.
âScratch that, I already know. Punishment. Duh.â
With a slight wobble, Hadrian awkwardly pushed himself up and hopped off the steps, before flicking his arms like a raven to dislodge the dust that clung to him obsessively. He couldnât stay out here as the moon rose, the night was full of dangers ready to strike at any moment â he knew that now.
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(I was going to write one for Tom but didnât have the motivation)
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