Hadrian could still feel the remnants of power coursing through his veins. The sensation was intoxicating, as if a long-dormant part of him had finally awakened.
Ignotus watched with knowing eyes. "You have talent, but raw talent means nothing without control."
Hadrian nodded, determined. "Teach me."
Ignotus raised a hand, and the room darkened as if shadows themselves had come alive. They stretched unnaturally, slithering across the stone like living entities.
"Magic is not just light and fire, Hadrian. Darkness is just as much a part of magic as any other force."
Hadrian hesitated. He had always been told that darkness was to be feared, that it belonged to the Dark Arts. But standing here, surrounded by history older than Hogwarts itself, he understood—magic was neither good nor evil. It simply was.
He extended his hand, focusing on the shadows, not commanding them but inviting them. At first, they resisted, flickering like candlelight, but then—they obeyed.
The darkness curled around his arm, cool and whispering secrets he couldn't yet understand. It wasn't frightening. It was natural.
Ignotus grinned. "You learn quickly."
Hadrian smirked. "I always do."
—