Chapter Text
“Are you with me?” Blaise asked from his armchair and Hadrian hummed in answer, feeling too lazy to say anything.
Hadrian was covered in cats which was quite fantastic. Crookshanks was laying on his chest, pretending to be a furry loaf of bread and purring like a loud engine, Vela was sprawled on his stomach with her fluffy tail hitting his thighs from time to time and Ara took all the space left on the chaise lounge, warming up his side.
The monster in his chest was satisfied. As it turned out, Blaise did look good in the Black family’s collar necklace. It was clearly designed with a man in mind - not too dainty and delicate, not too thick or vulgar either. It wasn’t ludicrously ornate either, though no one would describe it as simple.
Of course, they were searching for rings but the moment Hadrian saw the necklace he knew he wanted Blaise to wear it. The chance that someone would overlook both a ring and a necklace was extremely slim. Even if one were so unobservant, the enchantment on jewellery would take care of everything. No rude Italian aristocrat or insolent Hogwarts student could even lay a finger on Blaise's shoulder unless they wanted a nasty surprise. Simply wonderful.
Blaise didn't seem bothered by the obvious possessiveness at all. He knew exactly what the ring was enchanted to do and wore it proudly without a word. Hadrian had the feeling that both the ring and the necklace brought Blaise some kind of bizarre delight just like any act of jealousy on Hadrian’s part .
At the same time Blaise developed a strange fascination with Hadrian's ring. Jewellery gifted from someone other than a family member was seen as a courting gift and that paired with Hadrian insistence on waiting with any declarations meant that Blaise never gifted him any. Now Blaise had made a habit of fiddling with it when they held hands, which Hadrian couldn’t help but find adorable.
Hadrian petted Crookshanks and fur covered his fingers.
He didn’t want to face what lurked beyond the Black family estate. A small, evidently foolish part of him hoped that the tournament would be the last of ground shaking events. That maybe - just maybe - he wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than classes, potential masteries and day-to-day dramatics of Hogwarts students’ social life.
He forced himself not to think about the mayhem at the Ministry. Although the official statement called the disaster a terrorist attack, nothing else was disclosed. Nothing leaked to the press, no one knew anything. Even Hadrian's friends, especially Draco, had nothing to say. Hadrian briefly considered asking Arcturus what was going on but ultimately decided not to disturb his peace of mind. It was already difficult for him to fall asleep as his mind presented him with various scenarios, some less and some more tragic. He didn’t need more nightmares about the war. If Arcturus had decided not to tell him anything, asking him wouldn’t have led to a specific answer. Knowing only fragments of information, his imagination would probably have taken it as an invitation to start speculating.
Maybe it was for the best.
Tomorrow at the same time, they will both be in their dormitories at opposite ends of the castle. Hadrian got so used to being the centre of Blaise’s attention when they were together, he couldn’t imagine it stopping. And Hadrian could tell it wasn’t only his issue.
Aunt Cassiopeia didn’t allow them to share Harian's room at the Black Manor, but other than at night, they were inseparable. They were together at the Malfoys' ball and during the rituals. They went shopping for the new school year, wandering around the estate and visited friends. Even now, if Hadrian tried, he could reach and touch Blaise.
Hadrian could tell that Blaise loved it. Blaise adored the closseness, the lack of personal space and sharing every hour of the day, which meant that the first week of sleeping in different dormitories and separate classes would prove to be a challange. Not only for them but for anyone around.
However, there was one unexpected downside to Blaise being with him at the Black Manor. The whole family seemed to leave them in their own bubble, which meant that the time spent alone with Orion, Lycoris or Cassiopeia was reduced to zero. Even if someone was willing to join them, an invisible barrier created of reserved behaviour and polite questions appeared. Hadrian missed learning from his aunts and grandfather. Perhaps he should have expected distance and that, even though he himself was incredibly close to Blaise, for the rest of the Black family, Blaise was a potential candidate for his spouse and nothing more. Just as Hadrian was maybe a step above a stranger to Mrs Zabini. He himself didn’t expect her to be familiar with him, and somehow he was still surprised that his family didn’t act that way with Blaise.
He felt absurdly guilty for missing the heated exchanges of ideas and discussions with his aunts. He should have done something over the summer break. Although the time spent with Blaise had not been wasted, he had a strange feeling that time was slipping through his fingers.
Perhaps it was part of a larger plan? Originally, Blaise was not supposed to visit them, and his presence until the end of the holidays was not necessary to establish the betrothal contract. He wouldn’t have been surprised, especially since from the very beginning, everyone kept telling him that he should slow down and rest. And he was so bad at taking a break it was almost legendary among his friends and housemates.
Ara rolled to her other side and slid off the chaise lounge with a thump.
“Such a big stretch,” Hadrian found himself commenting, petting what he could reach and what happened to be her butt and fluffy tail. She trilled and slipped away from his hand, walking towards Blaise to jump straight into his lap, move around for a second, paw at Blaise’s thigh and finally settle.
“You know that every piece of clothing I have here is now covered in fur?” Blaise asked but he didn’t sound annoyed. Yet.
“There are spells for that,” Hadrian said. He himself got used to reapplying them frequently fairly quickly. Immaculate clothes were something he had to forget with three kneazles walking all over him and under his legs.
“You’re lucky you’re Hadrian’s,” Blaise told Ara, petting her head carefully.
Blaise behaved so awkwardly around animals that Hadrian never had to wonder whether the only animals he had ever been around were owls, post hawks and sometimes Crookshanks. He was overly gentle when petting the kneazle and comically confused by most of the sounds, kneading, rolling around or contortions during nap time. Not that Hadrian could explain why kneazles slept curled up in bizarre positions and sometimes rolled up into pretzels.
And to think that Hadrian persuaded him to pet thestrals… Admittedly, Blaise agreed solely for him but that didn’t mean Hadrian couldn’t be excited about it. He hadn't brought anyone outside the family to them before, and the Black Family’s magic stood out quite a bit so the herd stayed watchful. Hadrian had to bribe them with treats but in the end they seemed to accept Blaise’s presence enough to take meat from Blaise’s hand and sniff his robes. Artemis even put her nose in his pocket and let Blaise pet her flank! The next time they found the herd in the forest, Hadrian managed to appease Demeter enough for Blaise to touch her head.
Hadrian didn’t want to move and he didn’t want to face the world.
On the one hand, Hadrian was aware that the news of his betrothal to Blaise would be published in the society column but on the other he didn’t expect enthusiastic reactions. Hadrian already had a small pile of mail to which he needed to respond with at least a short, polite note, unless he wanted to offend someone and the mention was released with this morning's edition. Hadrian didn’t want to know how big that pile would be in a week. At least his friends knew beforehand so the most embarrassing letters already arrived. His only consolation was that Blaise would receive a similar if not greater amount of congratulations. After all, mail from the Continent took longer to arrive.
Crookshanks turned to his side and baited with his paws at Hadrian’s nose lazily.
“What are you doing, little terror," Hadrian murmured, pushing the paws away.
“You had a little break from them when they were stalking my mother,” Blaise teased. “Now they’re trying to make up for the time you were away.”
Indeed, the kneazles went through a particularly intense fascination with Blaise's mother, following her around, watching her from windowsills, the tops of cabinets, and even under the table. Hadrian was pretty sure they also stalked her in her rooms. Blaise’s uncle wasn’t spared either, although they got bored quite quickly. Maybe it was something in her magic? Hadrian wasn’t sure but Mrs Zabini bore the kneazles’ interest with grace, even if one of them found its way to her lap during a meal and another hunted for her hand whenever she placed it on the armrest.
However, there was one thing he could be sure of - if negotiating a betrothal contract didn't deter Blaise from being with him, there was little that could. Of course, Blaise didn't get the fully unfiltered version of the Black family but some of the masks reserved for the outside world had been set aside so as not to interfere with one of the most passive-aggressive and brutal negotiations Hadrian had ever witnessed.
Lesser wizards would run, Blaise still had a polite smile plastered on his face while Mrs. Zabini and Blaise’s uncle were trying to negotiate provisions that would not deprive them of at least several estates and eight vaults. Hadrian was convinced that at some point, Cassiopeia and Lycoris were being difficult and unwilling to make concessions just for the sake of their enjoyment.
The more Lycoris pushed Blaise's uncle to the wall, the more Mrs. Zabini stared at Lycoris like a niffler at gold. Negotiating the most ironclad contract of the century apparently didn’t stand in the way of a very intense flirtation. Hadrian wasn’t sure if Lycoris was too focused to pinpoint what was going on or was just committed to ignoring Mrs. Zabini’s every attempt while holding Blaise’s uncle in a headlock but it didn’t seem to matter. Mrs. Zabini was quite relentless yet subtle and far from pushy.
Bellatrix was in her element as well and no one indicated any desire to stop her. Hadrian knew that his grandfather, great-grandfather Arcturus, Cassiopeia and Lycoris were scheduled to be present at the negotiations but Bellatrix turned up at the mansion two days before the scheduled meeting, inviting herself in unceremoniously. Although none of her fits happened in the immediate presence of the Blaise family, Bellatrix neglected the silencing spells.
Blaise was introduced to almost the entire family much sooner than Hadrian had expected, which was mainly due to the curiosity of the rest. Both Grandmother Dorea and Narcissa dropped by for a visit after the negotiations. That in turn gave Hadrian the opportunity to spend some time with Anemone. She didn’t refrain from teasing but Hadrian missed her enough to not care. Even Andromeda showed up, surprisingly willing to spend an evening with her sisters. Regulus made a brief appearance too, albeit he quickly disappeared along with a few books from the Black library.
Crookshanks butted Hadrian’s chin with his head and Hadrian scratched obediently behind his ears. He really, really didn’t want to leave for Hogwarts.
*
“Honestly, I can't believe that we’re writing O.W.L.'s this year,” Michael said. “Half of our time at Hogwarts is behind us. It’s kind of scary and I’m sort of envious that Hadrian already passed his Runes’ O.W.L. and has one exam less to worry about.”
“You are forgetting that I registered for the Theory of Magic O.W.L. so I think we have an equal amount of exams to study for.”
“Out swot is swotting,” Michael teased fondly, “and here I thought you wanted more time to plan the wedding of the century.”
Hadrian rolled his eyes.
“I remember times when Hadrian thought that no one would be interested in him. He didn’t want to consider any other option,” Terry joined in because of course he had to remind everyone that he told Hadrian so.
“He was truly convinced. Now look!” Michael was clearly gloating. “And speaking about being one hundred percent convinced… Draco lost another bet. He bet that he would be the first to get betrothed. Five galleons for me.”
“Draco also bet that he would be invited to the Yule ball by a girl from Beauxbatons and that his father would take him with him on a visit to their overseas investments, and not only none of the Beauxbatons’ girls wanted to invite him, but the only place his father took him was Gringotts to supervise the transfer of funds from one vault to another.” Blaise commented and rolled his eyes. “All he saw was flying dust.”
“Losing bets seems to be his favourite hobby at the moment,” Terry said. “He can't refrain from trying to bet on everything possible with anyone.”
Draco had a lot of different phrases since Hadrian met him but the betting was far from the most annoying one. At least he stopped interjecting every other sentence that his father would hear about this or that. Jokes about buying a diary instead of reporting every detail to Lord Malfoy stopped being funny after a few weeks.
“That reminded me! Who won? Whose owl came first?” Michael asked.
“Terry's. By less than ten minutes.”
“You have single-handedly guaranteed that he will be boasting about it for the next month in Draco's presence…”
Terry patted Michael’s shoulder. “And proved once and for all that my owl is the best.”
“You live the closest to Hadri ー” Michael interrupted himself suddenly as Terry held a finger to his lips for a moment.
“The best, Michael. Simply the best. Give in,” Terry teased, “you lost that one.”
Hadrian and Blaise exchanged knowing glances. Something was happening there and Hadrian wasn’t sure what exactly. The blush on Michael's face, however, was very telling.
Hadrian almost jumped up in his seat when the compartment door opened with a bang. Crookshank protested the noise with a loud mrah from his carrier but didn’t jump down from an overhead shelf.
“Granger.” That wasn’t what Hadrian expected to hear from Draco the first time he saw him since the Malfoys’ ball.
“Granger is the prefect,” Daphne said, squeezing herself though Draco to the compartment.
Anthony pushed Draco inside and threw himself on the bench beside Terry with a huff after closing the door. “She’s going to be even more insufferable.”
Daphne seemed horrified by the sole idea. “I can't believe it, honestly. She was already scolding some third years because she saw them laughing and one of them had a bag from Zonko’s. I can't bear the thought that this is what the whole year will be like.”
“You and the majority of Hogwarts.” Anthony sighed. “She’s going to have a massive power trip.”
“I can’t wait. Do you think she’s going to be too busy with making herself a nuisance among younger years to be a menace?” Terry asked, leaning on Anthony’s shoulder. “You know what? Suddenly, I’m happy that I am not the one they picked.” Terry patted Anthony’s arm lightly. “Good luck patrolling the castle.”
Draco was already opening his mouth to say something when the compartment’s door slid open. Everyone looked at the tiny boy with mouse hair and incredibly large eyes who immediately blushed and closed the door mumbling a very indistinct ‘sorry’. His robes and tie still had none of the colours of any house and from behind the door Hadrian could hear the clatter of a trunk.
“It’s hard to believe we were that small,” Terry said.
“I don’t know. I'm not entirely sure Hadrian has grown a head since then,” Michael laughed when Hadrian kicked him in the calf without real force. “He certainly hasn't stopped being so dramatic. Tiny, petite, with a head of wild curls, conveying the wisdom of ancient philosophers with the solemnity of a hundred-year-old wizard.”
“Sof off Michael, I don’t dramatically quote excerpts from books anymore,” Hadrian was still somewhat embarrassed but they all agreed it was better than Draco’s hair gel and ‘I’m going to tell my father’ phrase. He grew out of it. “And I’m not that dramatic!”
“And this summer I was carrying you over the algae because you wouldn't touch… What was it? Slimy particles of abomination with your foot.”
“It’s gross and ー” The door to the compartment opened with a bang.
“Did you hear?!” Morag was absolutely outraged.
“For Mother of the Magic’s sake, I’m going to spell this door closed!” Draco yelled.
Soon Hadrian honestly doubted there was anyone left who could interrupt them. After Morag and Mandy, Sue and Lily also found their way into the compartment, Padma barely squeezed herself into Mandy’s lap a few minutes later and Hadrian gladly sat sideways on Blaise’s, although his legs had to be thrown over Terry’s so Michael could sit on the floor with Sue. At least Anemone wasn’t about to ambush them. From what he knew, she was going to sit with Astoria and Eliza and the rest of her housemates, whom Hadrian didn’t even recognise in the corridors apart from Susan Bones and Hannah Abott.
“I am petitioning to form a club,” Morag said. “Personally aggrieved by Granger or something like that. I heard her telling a girl from Gryffindor that her skirt was too short. She’s patrolling the train like an overeager Auror trainee looking for a sign of crime. Who cares about that?”
“Granger cares. Entirely too much. You know what I care about? Show me the ring, Hadrian. I couldn't get a good look at the Malfoys' ball.”
Hadrian wasn't sure if it was a welcomed change of subject that suited him but he would rather talk about anything other than Granger. He reached out to Daphne and showed her the ring. They didn't choose anything too showy or eye-catching. Both rings were practically identical – simple bands, enchanted, pale gold and encrusted with green sapphires. Hadrian liked the fact that they couldn't get caught on anything.
Neither Daphne nor anyone else managed to get anything more out of him except that the contract had been signed. Hadrian and Blaise didn’t set a specific wedding date or even a timeframe. They didn't talk about the wedding or any details either. Hadrian didn't even have any idea what he wanted, when or where he wanted it. The only thing he knew was that he wanted it to be with Blaise.
“Only you could be so boring as to get betrothed just for the sake of it and not make any further plans,” Draco told them. Hadrian was pretty sure he was one of those who had everything planned down to the underwear and flower composition.
“Have I ever told you how they got together?” Anthony asked and Hadrian resigned himself to even more teasing.
He felt the slight pull of the curse early enough to be aware of being pulled inside his mind as Anthony was retelling how Hadrian and Blaise had simply decided, without words or discussion, that they were together.
Although while living through it was very confusing for him at the time, Hadrian was unable to feel embarrassed. His relationship with Blaise was one of the best things that had happened to him in his life so far. Perhaps his current life was not what he had imagined when he first boarded the train to Hogwarts, and perhaps he would have preferred to avoid certain events, but overall, Hadrian's life was incomparably better.
A calm year in Hogwarts would be a nice addition though. No tournaments, no dramatic events. If Granger as prefect and grades were his biggest stressors, Hadrian would be satisfied. He could even survive the fact that Granger would probably be more unbearable than when she was trying to find anything that would allow her to skip a year.
His mind drifted in and out. He could tell that Blaise had adjusted him on his lap so that Hadrian could rest his head on Blaise’s shoulder, but most of the conversation around him had turned into one big jumble of sound. He was somewhat aware of Blaise’s arms holding him surely and tightly.
Someone left the compartment, someone entered. The rustling of wrappers, Blaise's chest rising and falling.
When he finally regained his senses, Blaise led him towards the carriages.
“You didn't miss anything interesting, just more bitching about Granger and speculations about the Defence professor because no one knows anything,” Mandy said after their eyes met. “Apparently, Dumbledore couldn't find anyone, so the Ministry had to choose someone and it's not Moody.”
“And you arrived just in time to cuddle thestrals,” Anthony pointed out cheerily.
“Don’t mind me if I do. I can help you if you want to pet them too.” Hadrian rolled his eyes at the grimace on Anthony's face. “They’re really calm and peaceful. Blaise can tell you there is nothing to be afraid of.”
“They took pieces of meat from my hand with exceptional precision and spat out the bones with unparalleled elegance,” Blaise said with a serious expression, which made the whole group burst out laughing. “I report no grave injuries.”
Hadrian sighed, reaching out to stroke the neck of the nearest thestral, which was already looking at him. “They can laugh all they want, hm? Their loss, you wonderful creature,” he said, looking straight into white pupil-less eye. He supposed thestrals could be unnerving but after observing how Artemis pranced around and played in the forest with Crookshanks? Hadrian adored them.
The thestral nudged him gently with its nose and Hadrian hugged the skeletal head lightly, still petting the black coat. “You are a cuddly one, aren’t you?”
“Are… Are you really petting a thestral?” Padma asked.
“He really is.” Hadrian looked at Terry when he heard the slight tremor in his voice. This was probably the first time Terry had ever seen a thestral.
“Do you want to try? They’re really calm and rather friendly. Not interested in living beings in the context of food.”
“You know what? I saw them only in drawings but since you’re not being eaten, I guess I can touch one for educational purposes,” Morag decided, lifting her hand in the direction of the thestral.
Hadrian took her hand and gently placed it on its neck. Despite expecting it, Morag still seemed to be startled at the contact but got over it quickly with quiet ‘oh’.
“It’s so warm and silky!”
“At this point I could be convinced that Hadrian is on some kind of thestrals awareness campaign,” Michael said but obediently let Hadrian guide his hand to thestral’s flank.
To his surprise, not only Anthony, but most of them were persuaded to pet the thestral, which he had already named Boreas in his mind. Harian had no intention of trying to convince or force Terry, but Terry approached Boreas himself and, with fierce determination written all over his face. It seemed that this was all Terry needed to relax. Boreas barely moved, only leaning in closer to the stroking hand and not even making a sound.
“What are you doing? Why aren't you getting into the carriage? You'll be late for the welcome feast because of your sluggishness!”
“And there she comes. The destroyer of good fun, the slayer of smiles, the prosecutor of joy” Daphne murmured quietly enough that Granger couldn't hear.
“What are you doing? What is taking you so long? You’re going to be late,” Granger repeated herself as soon as she got closer.
“Petting thestrals,” Hadrian said simply and watched confusion blooming on her face.
“Thestrals?”
“You know, creatures that pull carriages.”
“The carriages are pulled by enchantment,” Granger stated with absolute certainty. “Stop fooling around, we're going to be late!”
At first Harian was briefly outraged by Granger’s disbelief but then he realised some of them would have to ride in a carriage with Granger. After one last pat on Boreas’ flank, he tugged Blaise’s hand and gave Anthony a meaningful look.
The rest quickly caught on and scrambled to fill the remaining carriages.
Michael's face turned almost entirely red as they watched Daphne intercept Bulstrode, who was just passing by, to pull her into Daphne’s carriage and close the door swiftly.
Hadrian breathed a sigh of relief when the carriages set off.
He glanced at the castle. Torches and candles had already been lit in the great hall, and their warm glow could be seen through the windows.
Hadrian tried to relax in his seat but suddenly it seemed impossible. He wasn’t tense but couldn’t help the ominous feeling that washed over him as if something was about to happen. Maybe Cassiopeia was right about the mind healer? This was definitely not normal.
Nothing was happening - the carriage was travelling at a steady pace, he was sitting with Blaise and his friends and they had just got off the train. Perhaps he simply began to associate going back to school with something unpleasant and extremely stressful? After all, year after year, there always seemed to be something that put him on alert. Come to think of it, perhaps only the first year was relatively calm. Everything else seemed like a battle for survival, with at least a few minor stressors thrown in for good measure.
It wasn't as if everything about Hogwarts was tragic. Hadrian really liked the castle and the echoes left behind by all the wixens who had passed through its walls over more than a thousand years of its existence. Hogwarts was indeed a magical place with all its towers, huge halls, corridors and secrets. Hadrian adored all the oddities. Hogwarts may not have been a match for the breathtaking architecture of the Black Manor, but the entire castle felt steeped in history like no other place Hadrian had ever lived.
“Hadrian, please tell me you don’t have a bad feeling?” Anthony more asked than pleaded.
“I… don’t?” Hadrian convinced probably no one. “It’s probably nothing.”
“This year ought to be normal,” Michael said. “There is nothing being organised at Hogwarts, everything that could go wrong has already gone wrong and the situation is settled.”
Hadrian sincerely hoped that Michael was right and from the expression on Anthony’s face, Anthony probably hoped Michael didn’t jinx it as well.
*
“Welcome, everyone, to the new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin the grand feast, I would like to ask for your attention.” Dumbledore's voice echoed through the great hall. “Each new year brings new challenges. Every year, we learn not only about spells, but also about ourselves. Our weaknesses, our strengths, our desires, and our goals. Each year shapes you into incredible wizards and witches who will be ready to face the world…”
Hadrian wondered how Dumbledore could manage such a speech when his people killed so many people in a moronic attempt to enter the Hall of Prophecies.
“However, we must remember that Hogwarts should teach us one more thing. Something extremely important. To face difficulties together, united. Especially in these uncertain times.”
After a dramatic pause, Dumbledore stretched out his open hand towards the left side of the teachers' table. “Please join me in welcoming a new member of the teaching staff, a helping hand from the Ministry of Magic, who will be providing the Department of Magical Education with on-the ground feedback, Miss Dolores Umbridge!”
“I thought she’s the new professor.”
Hadrian barely heard Anthony over polite applause. Who, then, was the new professor, and why did the Ministry of Magic send someone to supervise the school?
Three taps of a spoon on the glass interrupted the applause and Dumbledore's new announcement.
Umbridge rose from her chair with a smile that didn’t bode well. Slowly, clearly enjoying the stares fixed upon her, she walked around the table to stand beside Dumbledore.
“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance…” she said slowly. She had a high-pitched voice that was both girlish and a little bit breathless. Michael likened her to a toad when they first saw her after entering the hall and Hadrian half expected her voice to match the visual. “There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering… Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.” She ended her speech in something that could be only described as a sugary titter.
This time, the applause was a little bit quieter.
“No one is looking happy she’s here,” Michael said and indeed, no professor showed even a hint of a smile for Dolores Umbridge.
“Apart from head-to-toe pink tweed, she seems unbearable,” Morag murmured quietly. “How is she going to prune whatever she wants to prune if she’s not a professor? What is she going to do? Investigate?”
“Can you imagine her sitting there supervising individual lessons? Can you imagine Snape or McGonagall tolerating such a thing?” Padma shook her head.
Hadrian found it just as abstract as Padma.
“And finally, the professor of Defence against the Dark Arts. Unfortunately, due to urgent matters, I am unable to introduce him to you in person. However, do not worry, all classes will take place as planned,” Dumbledore announced. “This year, once again in agreement with the Auror Office, lessons will be taught by a person with extensive experience and vast knowledge. Please give a warm welcome to the new Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, James Potter, who only recently stepped down as Head of Department due to injury!”
Hadrian didn’t hear the applause.
Hadrian didn’t hear anything.
He didn’t see.
He didn’t remember the feast.
He wasn’t there.
This wasn’t happening.