Harry Potter : Bloodraven-Chapter 125: First Strike (II) (CH - 145)

Inside Malfoy Manor, the grand entrance hall echoed faintly with the sound of footsteps. The place was exactly as people whispered: vast, cold, and richly decorated. Dark wooden floors, tall, arched ceilings, and heavy velvet curtains gave the manor a solemn, timeless air, as if it were a place meant to be remembered rather than merely lived in.

Lucius Malfoy and his son stepped through the front doors. Draco looked bored, idly dangling a small, elegant pouch between his fingers — a space-expanded bag that held everything he had bought from Diagon Alley without the slightest burden.

In the living room, Narcissa Malfoy sat gracefully on a high-backed chair, flipping through the Daily Prophet. She was a striking woman—tall, with pale skin, sharp blue eyes, and long, dark hair streaked with two striking lines of silver framing her face. Even when relaxed, she carried herself like royalty.

As soon as Lucius walked in, Narcissa lifted her eyes from the paper and caught the tension in her husband's face instantly.

Without needing to be told, she set the newspaper down.

"Draco," Lucius said, barely glancing at his son, "head up to your room. Your mother and I need to talk."

Draco shrugged, looking mildly curious but too lazy to argue. He dragged his feet toward the staircase and disappeared upstairs.

Only once the boy was gone did Lucius let his mask slip. His shoulders slumped slightly, and his face darkened.

Narcissa gestured toward the velvet sofa. "Sit, Lucius," she said softly.

Lucius obeyed, sinking into the cushions with a weary sigh.

"What happened?"

Lucius leaned back, ran a hand through his hair, and said to his wife, "Something... troubling happened at Diagon Alley."

He started with the scuffle between himself and Arthur Weasley.

"You got into a fistfight?" Narcissa cut in sharply, her eyebrows arching. "With Weasley Senior? In public? Have you completely lost your mind?"

Lucius waved his hand dismissively. "That's not important," he said. "It's what happened after."

He told her about Maverick—the young master alchemist who had stopped the fight with a simple flick of power that didn't even involve a wand.

"That's the new professor Draco keeps mentioning, isn't it?" Narcissa asked, narrowing her eyes. "The young man... Maverick Caesar?"

Lucius nodded grimly.

Narcissa made a thoughtful gesture, then spoke. "Judging by what you just said... handling you two without a wand... are you suggesting that young man is a Great Magus?" she murmured. "Utilizing pure magic like that..."

Again, Lucius nodded.

Narcissa leaned forward slightly. "Go on."

Lucius continued, speaking slowly now. He described how Gilderoy Lockhart—ever the fame-hound—had tried to approach Maverick, but stopped dead in his tracks. How the man's face had drained of all color as if he had seen a Dementor, before running away like his life depended on it.

Narcissa hummed thoughtfully as she listened.

But then Lucius hesitated. His mouth tightened as he considered how much to reveal.

Narcissa noticed immediately. She placed her hand gently on his arm. "Tell me everything, Lucius," she said softly. "If there's anyone you shouldn't hide things from, it's me."

Lucius took another breath and nodded.

He explained the Ministry raids Arthur Weasley had been spearheading, constantly threatening to uncover old secrets. How, out of spite—and a little fear—he had come up with a plan to get back at Weasley while dealing with something else he desperately needed to hide.

"There was an artifact," Lucius said carefully. "Something... important. Our former master entrusted it to me."

Narcissa's brow arched. "The Dark Lord?"

Lucius gave a stiff nod.

"A book... a diary," he said. "I don't know its true nature, only that he said it was a powerful and dangerous object of Dark Magic..."

He paused, guilt flickering across his face.

"I couldn't risk the Ministry finding it," he said. "Even if... even if he's no longer among us, I have been keeping it safe as per my Lord's orders. But because of the recent raids, I decided I could no longer keep it. So, I thought of a plan to kill two birds with one stone. If I planted it on one of the Weasleys... it would be rid of me, and Arthur takes the fall."

Narcissa hummed, nodding as if realizing something. "So you started the fistfight on purpose to create a distraction?"

Lucius coughed awkwardly. "Yes," he muttered, unwilling to admit he had genuinely lost his temper.

He continued, once again touching on how Maverick had stopped the fight effortlessly, then following up with how he revealed the diary, holding it in his hand as if saying he knew exactly what Lucius had done.

When Lucius finished, Narcissa leaned back, thinking hard.

After a moment, she asked, "Do you think he means to blackmail us?"

Lucius shook his head. "I doubt it. He's powerful, influential, rich. He doesn't need anything from us. But..." He sighed heavily. "He knows. And if he chooses to go to the authorities... even with my influence, the Ministry wouldn't protect me against the testimony of an influential Master Alchemist."

Narcissa nodded slowly. "That is, if he wants to report it," she said. "From what you've described, I don't think he will."

Lucius ran a hand over his face, exhausted but silently agreeing.

For a moment, they sat there in heavy silence.

Then, suddenly, Lucius straightened sharply, his head whipping toward the windows.

"Lucius?" Narcissa asked quickly, alarmed by the look on his face. "What is it?"

Lucius's hand darted toward his wand. His voice was tight.

"The wards," he hissed. "Someone's attacking the manor's wards."

Rumble. Rumble.

The low, ominous sound vibrated through the stone floors, making the very walls seem to shudder.

Narcissa's head whipped toward a glass jar on the side table. Her breath caught as she saw the water trembling inside, the ripples growing faster and sharper with each passing second.

Then—

Click!

A sharp crack echoed overhead, like glass shattering in slow motion. She flinched with a startled yelp while covering her ears.

Lucius raised his head and saw the chandeliers above swaying dangerously, their crystals clinking against each other.

"Quick, get Draco! We need to leave—now!" He snapped at his wife as his mind raced to a decision. Every instinct in him screamed a warning. Something dangerous was coming—and it was not friendly.

Narcissa stumbled back a step. "Lucius..." she said worriedly. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded to know.

"Someone's... ripping apart the wards!" Lucius answered in a heavy voice, eyes flicking wildly between the windows and the door. As the lord of the manor and the master in control of the wards, he knew this from the feedback the magic was giving him.

Narcissa stared at him in disbelief. "Ripping?... Are you mad? How is that possible?" she hissed. "The wards on this manor are Black-family wards, Lucius! They're as strong as the ones on the Black family ancestral manor!"

Lucius shot her a fierce look. "Do as I say!" he growled. "I know what I'm sensing. There's no time to argue. Whoever's doing this..." He swallowed hard. "They'd have to be at least a Peak Greatmage... maybe even..." His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper, "an Archmage..."

Narcissa froze, her pupils dilating wide. If it was true—if whoever was trying to infiltrate their home was an Archmage—then...

"Go! Now!" Lucius barked again. "Get our son!"

Narcissa nodded hurriedly and turned toward the stairs.

But the next moment—

RUMBLE.

The floor trembled beneath her feet.

RUMBLE. FLAP. FLAP. FLAP.

A strange, heavy flapping noise filled the air, blending with the deep rumble. She had barely taken a step toward the staircase when she froze at that eerie sound.

"Lucius!" she gasped, turning wide-eyed. "Did you hear that?"

Lucius spun around, wand raised. "I hear it."

"WATCH OUT!" Narcissa screamed suddenly, her eyes bulging as she saw something absurd inside the manor.

Lucius dropped flat on reflex.

FLAP FLAP FLAP!

A huge, pitch-black raven with blood-red eyes shot past him, missing him by inches before landing on a tall stand near the wall.

Lucius scrambled up, pointing his wand at the creature. "What in Merlin's name—?" he snarled. "How the bloody hell did a bird get in here?"

But then—

FLAP FLAP FLAP.

The sound exploded around them.

More ravens.

Dozens.

No—too many to count.

They poured in like smoke, sweeping through the manor's grand hallways, circling the ceiling beams, perching on every surface.

The couple shrieked and ducked as some brushed past her head. Narcissa bolted to Lucius's side, her back pressed to his, both of them spinning in slow circles, wands raised and pointed at the swarming mass.

Everywhere they looked, they saw them, and what was even more terrifying were those blood-red eyes.

Even the birds flying still somehow kept their burning gaze locked on them.

"Lucius!" Narcissa shouted, breathless, her heart hammering in her chest. "What the hell is going on?! Is this some kind of curse?!"

Lucius swallowed thickly. "I—I don't know!"

CLICK.

Another sharp cracking noise echoed through the house. They both instinctively jerked their heads upward—but the chandeliers were still swinging, not broken.

CLICK.

CAW!

CAW!

CLICK.

The thick, sickening sounds of shattering glass and harsh caws filled the air, pressing down on them from all sides.

They turned, back to back, spinning slowly, covering every angle, until Lucius spotted something unnatural.

"There!" he croaked, pointing toward the sofa.

A thin crack had appeared—not in the furniture, not in the floor—but in the very air itself.

"Back up!" Lucius barked while grabbing his wife and took a few steps back.

CRACK.

CRACK.

Their breathing hitched, and their skin turned clammy. Of course, they knew what this was.

"This... this..." Narcissa stammered as her voice barely rose to a whisper.

"I know..." Lucius said, grabbing hold of her hand desperately.

CRACK. CRACK.

Before their eyes, the cracks widened. A thin vertical line appeared, growing and stretching, until the very air seemed to tear apart.

They could barely breathe.

Beyond the rupture—there was nothing.

Just black.

An endless, suffocating void.

"Merlin protect us..." Narcissa whispered, voice trembling.

Then—

From the darkness—

A pair of blood-red eyes blinked into existence, staring straight at them.

BOOM!

A pressure heavier than anything they had ever felt before — not even from their former master — crashed down onto them.

The air turned to lead.

Their lungs locked up.

Their knees buckled.

THUD! THUD!

That single glance hit them like a hammer blow, and both Lucius and Narcissa crumpled onto the marble floor, their minds buckling as they fought to stay conscious under the suffocating pressure.

CAW! CAW!

The ravens shrieked louder, rising into a deafening, frenzied chorus. The very walls of the manor quaked under the onslaught.

Step!

Boom!

Step!

Boom!

The owner of those terrible, ancient eyes emerged from the void. With each step, it felt as if a massive, ancient bell tolled above their heads, sending shuddering ripples through their very minds.

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