A Birthday Gift

July, 1986.

Years passed, and Hadrian had finally reached the grand old age of 6. His birthday fell on the last day of July, but it honestly felt as though the whole month had been in preparation for the occasion.

He sat beside his Grandfather, Charlus - as they both looked at his new training broom. The boy had been smitten with it, and desperately wanted to give it a go. His fingers brushed against the seam of the broom carefully as his eyes burned every nook and cranny into his skull.

He was in awe.

"Charlus, no," Dorea said in warning. "It's already very late, he's not going outside in the dark - riding that death-bestowing contraption!"

"Death-bestowing contraption?…" Charlus laughed mockingly. "Merlin, Dorea. It's a broom!"

"Please, can't I?", Hadrian asked pleadingly. His soft voice caused Dorea to wane, her glare already softening as she looked into his eyes.

"No, Hadrian.", Dorea replied with much difficulty. "And that's final."

Hadrian pouted sulkily, his eyes showing great disappointment as looked at his grandfather for help. Charlus smiled and shrugged before looking away, as if to say; 'you heard what she said'.

The small, dark-haired boy stood up, huffing as he said, "I'm going to sleep!"

"Good on you, son,", Charlus called out as Hadrian turned around momentarily. "The faster you sleep, the quicker tomorrow will come!"

Hadrian waited for a second to comprehend Charlus' words, before breaking out into a sprint - eager to reach his bedroom.

Charlus and Dorea shared a look, before breaking out into soft chuckles. They couldn't help being infatuated with their little grandson. Every interaction with him reminded them of a better time; of when James was his age and when they were inexperienced parents. Although, some did note that they had been rather unlucky to have sired a child that made even the fearsome Minerva Mcgonnogal mad with stress.

Fortunately for them, Hadrian was a sweetheart. Though even he was not immune to inclinations of Potter-branded mischief.

Dorea and Charlus fell into silence as they both sat beside each other. Their bodies neatly cradled together as they read their books. Dorea had nestled herself between Charlus' arms, whilst he used magic to suspend his book in the air, turning the page every while or so.

"They didn't stay for very long.", Charlus hummed absentmindedly. He tried not to sound bitter, but it was obvious that he was annoyed.

"No," Dorea affirmed.

"Won't be long until they completely cease coming."

"Mhm."

"I take it this doesn't trouble you?", Charlus drawled out. "Of course it doesn't, how could I forget your temperament."

Dorea raised her head to look at him, her face mere inches away from his. "Don't get sharp with me Charlus. You know how that voice irritates me."

Charlus smiled, before gently kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry, I'm just worried about him."

"As am I. But there isn't much we can expect from James and Lily, Charlus. Not anymore," Dorea replied, ignoring Charlus' gesture even though her face had started feeling warm. "They would much rather celebrate Arthur's birthday. Besides, it's not as though the relationship between Hadrian and his parents has improved ever since he was… given to us."

He let out a sigh, "I know. Though still, it troubles me. I don't want him to think of himself as unwanted."

"…This was going to happen regardless of our intervention, Charlus. Our job now is to make him feel as wanted as possible, something which that boy makes doing extremely easy."

"Sometimes, I think we're not doing enough.", Charlus voiced tiredly. "I think he feels as though his…lack of magic, is something to be ashamed of. I think that's why he's so desperate to get on the broom. Remember when he asked about…"

"James, and Quidditch." Dorea palmed her face. "Merlin, you're right."

Whenever Hadrian's parents visited, it always felt as though there was a disconnect between them. Whenever they spoke, it felt forced, and after a while - their visits had started becoming less and less frequent. The duration of their visits also lessened as time passed.

It was Hadrian's birthday, but they only came to deliver the broom and sit in silence for a few minutes before departing. To add to that, they had chosen to arrive late in the day - after Arthur's grand party had already finished.

It would make sense that Hadrian thought the problem lay with him, the person they were visiting. And it absolutely shattered their hearts to come to that realisation.

Charlus shook his head as he saw Dorea's eyebrows knit together in concern. "We'll work it through him tomorrow. We've all had a long day."

Dorea acquiesced, laying down her book on the table as she stood together with Charlus.

Suddenly, he dragged her into his arms and then lifted her up. The frills of her dress rustled as she squealed, "Ah! Charlus put me down!"

He guffawed before steadily marching out of the room, Dorea slapped her hands on his back as she demanded to be let down, though this only fuelled Charlus' enjoyment. As they went off into their rooms, gentle echoes of laughter could be heard, leaving a certain old-house elf amused.

The house then descended into quiet, in only 20 minutes. The silence would have been overwhelming, if not for the sound of the wind whistling tirelessly outside, the call of owls and other nocturnal animals hooting and hissing through the Manor's grounds…and the pattering of a small set of feet.

Feet belonging to a child who really ought to be in bed.

The door craned open slowly. It didn't screech or squeak, Korby always made sure the doors were perfectly oiled - though it did click as the door finally closed.

A voice huffed, letting out short relieved breaths. Hadrian's smile bloomed as he removed his head from the invisibility cloak that he had huddled under as he made his way to the study.

It was a gift given to him by his grandfather. He had expressed his apology on how it would never be able to compare to the true family's heirloom. The one that he had given to James, who undoubtedly would hand it to Hadrian's brother.

Still, Hadrian didn't care. His smile had been radiant as he donned it on for his grandparents to see. As far as he was concerned, an invisibility cloak had one purpose - and as long as it fulfilled its purpose, he didn't care.

Well, maybe he did a little. He tried not to let his grandparents know, though he could see it in their eyes, that they knew.

He brushed his fingers over the broom's length, just as engrossed as earlier. This time, with careless abandon - and festering excitement that began to make his heart pound. So, Hadrian grabbed the broom.

It thrummed in his hands. It was a small pulse, a whispered 'hello', or a 'go on,' that urged him to ride it. And oh, how he so desperately wanted to.

With a smile plastered on his face, he placed the broom under the invisibility cloak. He smirked to himself as he made his way around the house stealthily, until finally - he found himself near the courtyard.

He walked down the stone steps, out into Dorea's luscious garden, past the small canopy that she liked to read in, and out onto the grass.

Beside the entrance of the green expanse, was a small bench. Hadrian threw off his cloak and dashed it carelessly in the bench's direction without looking. He then kicked off the fancy shoes that Dorea made him wear for his birthday, tossing them behind him just as he did with the cloak.

He felt every bristle of grass tickle his toes, but he ignored it and focused entirely on the broom.

It was worth mentioning, that once Hadrian had finally gotten onto the grass, he hadn't known what to do. A couple of seconds passed, where he simply held it in his hands absentmindedly. His thoughts occupied with riding the broom, instead of actually doing so.

He scowled at himself, "Come on, you can do it!"

With a quick breath, he tucked the broom between his legs, his breath hollow as it slowly rose into the air and held him up.

Hadrian smiled at himself, with more than a little pride. He felt as though the broom had acknowledged him, as funny as it sounded - by allowing Hadrian to float. It affirmed that he was more than 'just a squib', regardless of whatever magic his parents had said he lacked.

With a gentle push of his legs, he slowly started rising in the air. He let out shaky breaths as he went higher, before exploding into laughter. He tensed his body as he aimed his broom higher into the sky, his speed lowering the higher he went.

"Hahaha!", he howled and whooped as he flew into the air. With his hair flowing back, and his body climbing towards the grey clouds…he felt free.

Eventually, Hadrian reached a point where the broom had reached its maximum altitude. It was only a training broom, so that amounted to perhaps up to the length of Hadrian's bedroom from the ground floor. This was still rather high, the manor was nothing to scoff at.

Slowly, the broom's point tilted downward. It began tipping and falling but the back of the broom remained fixed until gradually, Hadrian felt himself get pulled to the floor.

With a loud whoop, and child-like bravado, he hurled toward the ground.