*Trigger warnings - Blood, gore, mentions of torture*
New Year's Day - Malfoy manor - unknown time
Lucius Malfoy's private study, where only 1/2 a bottle of firewhiskey, of the original 5 remain. All consumed within the past hour.
The Dark Lord expected a report on the bi-weekly news of Dumbledore, the Order of the Grilled Pigeon, and the list Hogwarts students eligible for the Dark Mark.
There where 89 students eligible, and only 7 would never fight on their side. Black's Tenebris Equites.
To be the one to explain to Voldemort that 7 teenagers, all from ancient noble houses, including the Lord's own sons, have enough power to battle Merlin and be back in time for morning tea.
Teenagers who would never join the Deatheater ranks. Teenagers who had intricate plans about his death.
Teenagers who would remove his fingers, shove them down his throat, gouge out his eyes to be replaced by his kidneys, and the be blood eagled on his dining room table as his wife and son where spit roasted over a fire made from the bones of their house elves.
All maiming, gouging, appendage removal, and wounds are to be inflicted by a silver teaspoon.
All done because of a buying the last box of chocolate caramel praline brownies from a bakery in northern France, or over the rights to a magic gemstone found in an Egyptian tomb, or perhaps because he looked to dignified and "like a fucking stuck up preppy bitch with a log up her ass, with the body of a pregnant elphant, the face of a weasel, and the genes of inbred trolls with a maximum IQ of 2." as Mattheo Riddle had eloquently phrased it.
Those Teenagers hated the Dark side, and the Light, and there was no force, magic or muggle, no person, sane or innocent, murderous or delusional, dead, alive, or to exist who could stop Hadrian Black's Tenebris Equites.
Whitethorn Manor - The following Tuesday - 5:30am
Tom Riddle's POV
"AGAIN!"
The weekly knight's exams had just started. A non-magical three hour sparring session, a 2 hour written exam, and a 1 1/2 hour long magic duelling session, awaits them.
Accompanied by 3 hours of sleep, 11 cups of black double shots of coffee.
Last night included 16 games of chess at some time past midnight, 20ish bottles of firewhiskey, a philosophical debate on the worth of a ducks egg in 14th century China at dawn on a sunday, a series of cartwheels down the stairs, a fashion show using only curtains, three pina coladas mixed with lager, and 9 shots of potcheen each.
Tom woke up, and the lajnalerted him of what happened.
He had several fractures, a broken thumb, a half burnt suit, and a pureblood ball at 8pm Mattheo came up with the genius idea of running, backwards, clockwise with blindfolds and covered in cooking oil for the sparring session, while also wearing heavy robes.
They where all too hungover to protest.
He could feel the unending throb in his femur, the sharp burn radiating from his ultra, and the chess piece lodged I his hair with molasses, as the heavy Italian marble clunked on his head.
Vladimir lunged for his left, a fake. Instinctively his fist moved to block the kick, a bruise formed on his hip bone, his fist coated in blood, the Romanian stumbled.
A snap to his right, a thud resounding amongst the haze.
The force hit his temple, eyes blinking rapidly, wet lips with liquid iron in his mouth, spluttering to remove the sour taste.
The light was bright, his nose cracked, more blood.
He could hear faint singing, Mattheo.
He didn't known the tune, but the words sounded strange.
I gave yo- blood, blood, gall'ns o' the stuf-
-I'ave them all tha- never be enough
Grab a glass there's gon- lood
Celebrated man- gurney
Fix me proper with a bi-
The docto's and da nur- dor' me
Really quite alarmin cau- such an awful fuck
Blood, blood, gallons - he stuff
All they ca- ever be 'nough
I gave you blood, blo-
Kind of human wreck- you love
Red, all he could see was red, aches, throbs, he was a canvas of battles, a painting of purple, red, green and white.
He was almost dead. But to the Equites, death was met, or you lived, and he would live. For himself, for Mattheo, for Vlad, for Hadrian, for Stefan, for Aleks, for Theo. He would live, to honor the pact. To honor his new life, with his new family.
All the knights where on the verge of death, and all of then fought to live.
This was the resulting their sparring sessions, and he had no idea how long he had left until the exam.
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Tenebris Equites
FanfictionHadrian 'Harry' Potter was never deemed important in his parent's eyes, they were far to focused on his twin brother, Daniel or the Boy-Who-Lived, the one to supposedly defeat lord Voldemort. At age 3 Hadrian was left to the Dursleys but 13 years l...
