Hadrian Peverel: The Lord Of Haven

Chapter 5

October 1976 – Three Days After the Ministry's Letter

The sharp crack of Apparition echoed just beyond the outer wards.

Hadrian stood near the east wing's balcony, his fingers resting lightly on the stone railing as he watched a figure materialize at the edge of the estate's grounds. The wards had not rejected the arrival outright, which meant the Ministry had chosen their approach carefully.

Interesting.

Matthias Rowle was already at the entrance below, arms crossed as he observed the visitor. Jonas Flint leaned against a pillar beside him, expression neutral but amused, while Catherine Hale stood a few steps away, sharp eyes scanning for anything out of place.

The man who had Apparated did not immediately move. Instead, he paused, glancing at the empty space in front of him—testing.

The wards held steady, allowing him through, but Hadrian could see the tension in his stance, the way he adjusted his cuffs before stepping forward. He was wary. He should be.

Hadrian smirked. Good.

Ministry officials rarely chose to Apparate directly into unknown properties, especially when dealing with someone as unpredictable as an unregistered Lord. A direct Apparition into hostile wards could be a death sentence.

So the Ministry had tested him.

A small, subtle probing spell had brushed against the outer defenses moments before the visitor's arrival—a calculated risk, likely performed by a lower-level official before sending their envoy forward.

Hadrian exhaled slowly. They had expected either obedience or arrogance.

They had expected to rattle him.

They would leave disappointed.

The visitor strode forward, his navy robes moving stiffly with each step. Even from a distance, Hadrian recognized him. Percival Avery, senior investigator for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Not a mindless bureaucrat, but a strategist. A man who handled problems with cold efficiency, without letting emotion interfere with duty.

Hadrian turned away from the balcony, descending the grand staircase at an unhurried pace. By the time he reached the entrance hall, Avery was already stepping inside, his gaze sweeping across the high-vaulted ceiling and dark stone walls.

Matthias stood still, offering no greeting.

Jonas, still leaning against the pillar, smirked lazily. "You lot usually send letters before showing up on someone's doorstep."

Avery ignored him, his gaze locking onto Hadrian the moment he entered the hall.

"Lord Peverell," he greeted, voice clipped. "I assume you know why I'm here."

Hadrian let the silence stretch for a moment longer than necessary. Then, he smiled. "That depends, Investigator Avery. Am I being thanked for returning a lost Peverell estate to its rightful owner, or are we playing a different game today?"

Avery's expression remained unreadable. "All properties within Britain fall under Ministry oversight. Even those belonging to distinguished families." His eyes flickered to the enchanted sconces lining the walls, taking in the lack of Ministry-approved security measures. "And yet, this estate does not appear in any modern records."

Hadrian tilted his head slightly. "Not particularly surprising, given that the last Peverell lord recorded in Ministry history died centuries ago. I imagine your filing system isn't quite that thorough."

Avery's jaw tightened slightly. A reaction.

Good.

"Then you won't mind answering a few questions," Avery said, adjusting his cuffs.

Hadrian gestured lazily toward one of the sitting rooms. "By all means."

Avery followed without hesitation. Matthias moved to stand just outside the doorway, posture deceptively relaxed but entirely deliberate. Catherine took a seat near the back of the room, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest as she listened. Jonas, of course, sprawled lazily onto the nearest couch, looking as if he found the whole thing deeply entertaining.

Hadrian settled into his own chair, entirely at ease, as Avery pulled out a parchment and unrolled it with careful precision.

"The Ministry has reason to believe," Avery began, "that your activities here may pose a risk to the established order."

Hadrian's lips curled slightly. "The 'established order'? You make it sound fragile."

Avery did not rise to the bait. "There have been whispers regarding your recent… associations. Business dealings with non-Ministry approved parties. Large financial transactions flagged as 'unregistered enterprises.'" His fingers smoothed over the parchment as he looked up. "What exactly are you building here, Lord Peverell?"

Hadrian smiled, slow and sharp. "A future."

Avery's gaze darkened slightly. "A future outside of Ministry authority?"

"Correct," Hadrian said without hesitation.

A flicker of genuine surprise crossed Avery's face before he schooled it back into impassivity. "You're rather blunt about it."

Hadrian leaned forward slightly. "Only because I enjoy watching Ministry officials try to wrap their heads around the idea that not everyone is playing their game."

Avery inhaled through his nose, clearly not pleased. "You do realize the consequences of what you're implying?"

Hadrian's smirk didn't fade. "Do you?"

Silence.

Avery studied him again, something colder behind his gaze now. "The Ministry does not take kindly to… independent factions."

Hadrian tilted his head. "I imagine the goblins would be delighted to hear that."

Avery's fingers tightened slightly against the armrest. "The goblins," he said carefully, "are tolerated within certain… boundaries."

"How generous of you," Hadrian murmured.

Avery exhaled slowly, regaining control of his expression. "Regardless," he said, "I am required to conduct a full inspection of this estate's wards, magical enhancements, and security measures." His gaze flickered toward the hall beyond. "As well as any… unregistered inhabitants."

Jonas let out a low, amused hum from where he was leaning against the doorway. "You're asking to go snooping through Lord Peverell's private halls? Bold of you."

Avery's eyes flickered toward Jonas, unimpressed. "This is Ministry business."

Hadrian chuckled. "No, Mr. Avery. This is my business."

The air in the room shifted.

Avery tensed—not visibly, not obviously, but Hadrian saw the way his shoulders locked, the way his grip on the parchment tightened. He recognized power when he felt it.

And Hadrian let him feel just enough.

Slowly, Hadrian rose from his chair, movements deliberate. "I'm afraid I must decline your request," he said. "But I do appreciate the… effort."

Avery stood as well, adjusting his robes. "The Ministry does not take defiance lightly," he said. "This will not be the last time we speak."

Hadrian's smirk widened. "I certainly hope not."

The Ministry had tested him.

Now, they would wait.

And Hadrian would make sure they regretted it.