1 The Prince's Plans Proceed

"Professor," he greeted as he entered the perilous potions room, closing the heavy wooden door behind him with a resonating thud. It echoed around the cobbled alcoves of the dungeon potion's room with eerie ease.

The lone lab's shadows crept forth, deepening and seeming to dance at Hadrian's feet as the lights from the corridor outside were obliterated. Walking further into the room the scarcely scattered, weeping wax-candles flickered forlornly as he strode to stand to the side of the tall teacher's desk.

Atop the dark desk was a battered, worn cauldron bubbling away beside a torn and tattered tome and cleanly cut ingredients. The Master continued to count clockwise stirs until with practiced precision continuing to ignore the other presence beside him. After some time, he lifted the stirrer out of the cauldron and with an intricate wave of his wand placed a protective stasis charm over the complicated cocktail.

Hadrian maintained his position at the side of the desk, all the while, his fingers nimbly nudging his wand in its holder as he stared ahead- waiting. Finally, the other turned his attention to Hadrian whose gaze locked directly onto the hardened onyx eyes of the Potions Professor. The other lowered his gaze minutely, in recognition, of Hadrian's impatience or ranking, or both.

Accepting the silent acknowledgment, Hadrian gave a simple tilt of his head and the room was surrounded, wordlessly, with a silencing charm and the door a locking charm from the Potion Master's wand. To anyone else the silence may be deafening in the shiver-inducing, shadowy potion's pit- but to Hadrian, the deathly quiet was peaceful, soothing even. Sure that the room was secure in its solitude the elder knelt on the cold, cobbled floor, his head lowered, and wand offered to the other as a visible sign of his respect and following.

"My Prince," he murmured with reverence.

The younger gestured him to rise with a flick of a finger in the elder's field of vision and replied with a small huff, "again with the title, Severus?" Hadrian motioned for Severus to put away his wand as well with a wave of his wrist.

"Of course," he replied meeting the emerald gaze with a smirk, slipping his wand deftly into a hidden space within his billowing, black robes as he stood tall.

Gone was the sneer and scorn from the Slytherin/Gryffindor potion's class on the Potion's Professor's face. Now, a conspirative, clear expression adorned the elder's features. Hadrian much preferred the latter.

"Always so formal," Hadrian chided softly in return with a similar smirk. He turned from the older walking over to the desk with a clutter of cauldrons sprawled across its surface. Their ruse of Harry Potter's detention already perfectly constructed by the Potion's Professor and ready to be utilised.

Each cauldron was caked in crumbling crust from over boiled students' potions. Unidentifiable liquids remnants remained at the bottom of the blackened cauldrons. Hadrian peered over in obvious disgust at the student's sub-par work before turning to once again glance at the elder.

"Anything to report?"

The Potion Master had followed, conjuring a scrubbing brush for the other and handing it over to the younger at his question. He nodded. "The Old Coot is delighted by your placement, as expected."

"I would expect nothing less, considering the compulsion charm that was aimed at me during the sorting. Luckily, it was my intention to be sorted into the Lion's Den," he finished, eyes gleaming with malice.

"My Prince, the Snake in Lion's Clothing," the Potion's Master grinned with pride.

"Don't go having too much fun with this now, Severus," he attempted to admonish the other. Though Hadrian's tone left no real, reprimand. If anything, Hadrian would encourage the elder to extend upon their already successful setup.

Severus scarcely stopped himself from rolling his eyes in exasperation at Hadrian. "With what, the vengeful, dungeon bat act? The evil Head of Slytherin? The greasy git? We both know I will, especially now that I have a 'new celebrity' to play with," he smirked again.

Hadrian chuckled. He couldn't argue with that; he did agree that meddling with Dumbledore and his cronies would be enjoyable. They had been waiting a long while for this. Hadrian wasn't going to stop Severus' scenarios now that he was truly aware of the other's eagerness.

Pointing to a few of the smaller cauldrons Severus cast a casual cleaning spell to reinforce their theatrics that Hadrian had been held in detention, or rather was completing cleaning out the cauldrons for his detention instead of chatting amicably with the Potion's Professor. Of course, Severus would never actually have his Prince clean cauldrons- it was just a cover.

"Anything else?" Hadrian questioned.

Severus shook his head, "Nothing." He paused a moment before continuing, "How long until the two minions come to your 'rescue'? I would assume-" he started before he was interrupted by menial magic attempting to penetrate his wards. His eyes narrowed when he turned to the door- two shadows flittered under the frame. Glancing at his Prince he raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"Know-it-all and Weasel. Obviously sent by the Old Coot," he whispered before beginning to rigorously scrub the cauldron in front of him, his face changing into a scowl at the terrible task. Even if it was all the scene, Hadrian didn't like having to scrub the scum one single bit and the evidence was evident on his face.

The potions master walked hastily towards the door at his Prince's nod in that direction and opened it suddenly with a sharp flick of his wand. As the door slide to the side it revealed the two miscreants Hadrian had said. Know-it-all's wand was outstretched having performed a spell (probably to try and open the door) and Weasel's outraged face.

"Harry!" they both exclaimed as the pair caught sight of Hadrian inside the potions room up to his arms in slop.

Hadrian had to force himself to not roll his eyes at the idiot's antics. He glanced fearfully up at the Potions Professor whose face was thunderous and directed at the pair. Severus turned a glacial glance on Hadrian who took the cue to cower and continued to scrub at a dingy cauldron.

"What might you be doing down here, Mr Weasley and Miss Granger?" he boomed at the students. Both had the semblance to pale a shade at the look before what Hadrian could only call 'Gryffindor Gall' kicked it. The Know-It-All took a step forward, her chin held high and mighty, "Headmaster Dumbledore wishes to see Harry," she stated snottily.

"I am in the middle of detention with the brat," Severus snapped back giving Hadrian another pointed look. Hadrian continued to scrub as if in fear of the taller professor. "The Headmaster can call on the boy after."

The youngest Weasel's face turned an unflattering shade of red at the Potions Master's comment, "He said now!" he whined in outrage.

"The Headmaster did say it was urgent, Professor Snape," the Know-It-All chimed in.

Raising a pale hand to his face and pinching his nose in annoyance, the Potion Master sighed deeply in disdain. "15 points from Gryffindor, for disrespect," he declared, "each." Before the two students could scrobble over the points deduction he turned to the still scrubbing Hadrian. "Another 15, Potter, for your unfinished detention," he roared with as much venom as he could muster.

Viciously, he grabbed Hadrian by the arm, seemingly uncaring about the other before dragging him over to the pair of wayward Gryffindors and shoving the lot of them out the door.

"Get out of my sight!"

The door slammed in the faces of the trio with a resounding clamor down the cold, corridor. Hadrian glanced down at his hands, still covered in soap suds and muck. He rolled his shoulders forwards in a protective position and lowered his head so he was hunched over and staring at his feet. His fringe covered his eyes that flashed in amusement at their act.

"W-what was that, guys?" he asked hesitantly two the dunderhead duo.

The Weasel placed his arm around Hadrian's shoulders in a physical sign of support and began guiding the other towards the tower. The Know-It-All was already bursting forth with her babble as she walked beside the pair, her arm linked around his in another show of comradery. Hadrian, for the umpteenth time, had to force himself not to shove the pair away from him with everything he had.

Gryffindors.

As the portrait of the Fat Lady came into view from the bottom of the moving stairs, Hadrian feigned a sigh of relief. Shrugging off his play at 'Snape-shocked-Harry' he leaned, just a tad, into the red-headed boy.

"-greasy git. That dungeon bat has it out for you, Harry! Of course, that's why we came to save you!" Weasel crowed haughtily.

"Professor Snape, Ronald," the bushy-haired girl tutted. "Though he was too harsh to give you detention from our first lesson. It wasn't even your fault that you were taking notes. It didn't look like anyone else had the answers for the questions either. Honestly-"

"What about, Dumbledore?" he interrupted quietly, his voice quivering slightly, as they reached the portrait's archway and glanced worriedly back down the stares in faux confusion. "I thought you told h-him Dumbledore wanted to see me?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry." Know-It-All reprimanded him. "He told us to get you and take you back to the Tower," she continued matter-of-factly.

"I thought he wanted to see me?" he asked again trying sounding a disappointed at the comment as if his hope had been deflated.

"He does, mate," Weasel agreed, his hand squeezing his shoulder in comfort. "He's just very busy with the start of the year," he explained further.

"You'll see him soon," the Know-It-All stated knowingly. She turned to the portrait and stated the password- the grand door opening at the correct words.

Playing his dejected orphan act Hadrian's lips wobbled as if in sadness as he nodded silently at the pair. He followed them into the tower through the painted portrait. The Know-It-All and Weasel smiled in sympathy at Hadrian and he offered a small, watery smile back at the dumb duo.

Their plans were perfect.