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HP: Bloodraven Chapter 295 - Brooms, Cheers, and a Dash of Chaos (V)
🕑 Added 2025-12-21 18:48:03 +0000 UTCWhat was supposed to be a wonderful day, bursting with epic fun, thunderous cheers, and heated Quidditch debates, how has it shattered into complete chaos in the blink of an eye...
Harry ran, moving with everything he had, his boots tearing through trampled grass while spells burst and flared around him, his mind spinning as he tried to make sense of what had gone wrong and what was happening, yet the surge of adrenaline and the roar of bangs and screams kept any clear thought just out of reach as chaos erupted all around him.
Not only him—everyone around him was caught in the same frenzy. The children, Sirius, and Mr. Weasley pushed through the panic, their wands flashing constantly, sending hexes at anyone who even hinted at danger.
“Keep moving, don’t stop, eyes up...”
Colorful spells jolted like a storm from their tight circle, and shimmering shields flared briefly before collapsing into sparks, yet their momentum never faltered, pressing forward like a single unit.
Behind them, Sirius pivoted, unleashing a stunning spell at a masked figure struggling to rise from the ground. Ahead of the group, Arthur was just as relentless, calm amid the chaos, shouting quick warnings and directions, deflecting curses with precise flicks of his wand while guiding children and terrified spectators toward the dark outline of the woods.
The children, likewise, weren’t just running either. At least Harry’s wand flashed constantly, as did Ron’s, Hermione’s, and Jean’s, hexing enemies with deadly precision.
Their strikes weren’t frantic panic but controlled. Today, they truly felt the difference—or rather, finally got to measure the training of the past three years. Their spells landed harder and faster, their shields held longer than they should. They moved with frightening composure, firing precise hexes without breaking stride. Even Jean felt it. Having joined them for only half a year, her magic, coupled with her mutant abilities humming beneath her skin like a second heartbeat, kept her from falling a single measure behind.
Percy, Fred, and George fired a hex or two as well, but their eyes couldn’t help darting to the four flanking them on the left and right, despite all the chaos around them. Especially their little brother—their seemingly very, very ordinary little brother, Ronald Weasley.
How, or when, in Merlin’s name, had their little Ronald gotten this good? Had they been missing something? Little Ginny, too, stared at her brother with sparkling eyes, clutching his arm as he was pulled forward. Perhaps it was the first time she truly saw him as… cool. She had half a mind to praise him aloud but swallowed the urge, knowing it was neither the time nor the place for such admiration.
Meanwhile, the redhead in question had no idea his standing in the eyes of his family had just risen several levels, far too busy dropping enemies left and right.
“Who are these masked freaks?” he shouted between breaths, blasting a hex into the ground that sent two masked figures sprawling at once, his face flushed with effort while his eyes remained sharp and fiercely focused.
“Bad guys, terrorists, what else,” Hermione answered from his right while deflecting a curse that would have caught Percy in the shoulder.
“But why here?” Harry’s breath burned in his chest as he, too, hurled a stunner backward without even looking, rewarded by the thud of a body hitting the grass. “What good will terrorizing civilians do?”
“Blimey, who cares…”
“Bad guys, blast them…”
George and Fred ranted in quick succession while Arthur subtly adjusted their course, guiding them as the woods loomed ever closer.
Hexing and shielding, they ran, and were almost there when, all of a sudden, a cluster of masked figures spilled out from between the trees and behind overturned tents, trapping them along with dozens of other fleeing spectators as taunts rang out and cruel laughter echoed through the smoke-filled air.
“Well, look at this,” one of them called, his voice distorted behind the mask, wand already raised. “Some fish trying to escape the net, eh—”
“Expelliarmus!”
“Bombarda!”
Too bad for the grunts—before they could even relish their taunts, spells erupted from the group they had just labeled as “fish.” They had no choice but to raise their shields as Sirius and Arthur advanced together, curses slamming into them hard enough to stagger. The trio dove in just as quickly, and the clearing instantly erupted into a riot of color and sound.
It was messy and tight, yet somehow briefly evenly matched despite the ratio of adults, all thanks to the golden trio, until a single, vicious curse from a grunt broke through the shields and hurtled straight toward a terrified Ginny.
Arthur turned his head, wide-eyed and horrified, and the one closest to her, her brother, felt it before he even saw it. A cold twist ran through his gut as the spell bore down on her far too fast for him to assist and for her to dodge.
Ginny!
Her family screamed while the grunts laughed maniacally, but then suddenly everyone’s eyes widened as out of nowhere a shimmering barrier, far more solid than any they had seen before, snapped into existence around Ginny with a sound like crystal ringing.
The expected bang didn’t even snap, as if the hex had been swallowed whole, only rippling the surface. At the same time, the air thickened and a heavy pressure descended over the clearing, so intense it forced nearly everyone to their knees for a heartbeat.
Before that feeling even registered, a crack of thunder split the air, followed by a blinding flash overhead. Bolts of magic then rained down in a furious storm, each one striking a masked figure with deadly precision, flattening them to the ground and turning them to charred husks before they even had a chance to react.
Silence followed in stunned waves.
Not a single masked terrorist was spared then everyone instinctively looked up just in time to see two figures descending slowly on faintly shimmering magical constructs, their robes snapping in the heat rising from the scorched ground.
“Professor Lupin…”
“Mr. Ali…”
Two youthful voices broke out, relief cutting through the fear as they clearly registered the identities of the two figures.
Lupin landed lightly, eyes already sweeping the crowd with sharp precision as he asked, his voice calm but carrying, if anyone was hurt, while Ali moved like a shadow around them, checking the fallen attackers with quick, efficient motions.
“I’m glad you’re all alright,” the werewolf said, ushering them toward the trees as distant screams and explosions echoed from every direction, the fire painting the sky in shades of orange and red. “We will move into the woods and transfer you to a safer location.” His gaze landed on the unfamiliar dozen or so civilians, and he gave them a reassuring smile.
“How bad is it?” Sirius asked quietly as they moved, also glancing briefly at the introverted man he knew very well.
“Not as bad as you think, Padfoot,” Lupin answered with a wry smile. He didn’t go into detail, giving only a brief overview. “The screams you’re hearing are mostly from the dark wizards… Jameson is personally leading the hunt—oh…” He paused, then added with a teasing smirk, “Bonsey is there as well. The Aurors will have everything under control soon...”
“What about body count?”
“None!” Ali answered without looking at Arthur’s question, his gaze fixed firmly ahead.
“Like I said, it’s not as bad as you all think,” Lupin added, shrugging his shoulders.
They had barely gone a dozen steps and came to a sudden stop again when a loud, thunderous crack tore through the air. Instinctively, everyone looked up to see a sickly green mist burst high above, spreading outward like ink in water before twisting and coiling into a form that made some of the adults go deathly pale in recognition.
“Merlin’s beard… is that a skull?” Ron’s mouth was half agape as he stared at the obviously ominous sight. After all, it was a human skull, and that couldn’t possibly be a good sign.
Hermione also swallowed hard, eyes wide, but unlike her half-brained friend, she recognized it instantly from all the books she had read. “That’s the Dark Mark, right?”
Arthur nodded grimly at the name, one he hadn’t heard in a long time. “Indeed. We need to leave. Now. I have a very bad feeling about this.”
But then he felt a hand gently on his shoulder, turned, and saw Lupin shaking his head. “There’s no need to panic. With us here, no one will be in danger. The camp is largely under control.”
Arthur blinked, then realization struck. He cast another glance toward the duo that had descended, and his eyes widened as it sank in. That’s right, he thought. Pure magical construct. That could only mean one of them was a great mage, and his gaze fixed on the most likely person.
He wasn’t unfamiliar with Ali—in a way, he was his boss, the general manager of all Caesar’s businesses—but this was perhaps the first time they were meeting face to face.
Lupin met his gaze, smiled, and nodded once. “Yes. Mr. Ali is an ascended mage. Moreover, we’ve been moving everywhere, taking out those Death Eaters and assisting the Aurors before coming here. That’s why I can confidently say the situation is under control.”
And just then, before Arthur could respond again, another deafening boom echoed from the sky, and every head snapped upward once more to see what was happening.
Two silhouettes streaked high across the sky like comets on brooms, the deafening sound coming from their spells colliding in blinding flashes. Clearly, it wasn’t just two random witches or wizards dueling—both were at least above magus rank, otherwise it couldn’t be this fierce.
The intensity was overwhelming, as if lightning were striking overhead, shockwaves rippling through the air and forcing even them all the way down to shield their faces.
“What kind of duel is that?” someone gasped, a hand over their face, barely audible over the roar. Given the few numbers, most of the wizarding population never experiences the true magical might of a great mage in their entire lives, and the sight before them left most of them gaping in awe and fear.
Even the children, including the trio, were wide-eyed as they watched the thick bolts of magic light up the sky like fireworks. Although they were students of Hogwarts, a school that had two archmages and two great magi, they had never truly witnessed any of them in real action up close.
Arthur, likewise, stared in awe, muttering under his breath, “That is a duel between two great magi.”
Only Ali and Sirius showed no outward reaction, having witnessed far greater power exchanged up close during the alien war just half a year ago. However, Sirius’s brows were furrowed at this moment, his gaze fixed on one of the silhouettes as he pieced together their identities.
“That’s Mad Eye, right?” Arthur said slowly, then hesitated.
“And the other is Bellatrix Lestrange,” Sirius finished, the name hissing from his mouth like a curse.
Hermione’s breath caught at the name. As a walking encyclopedia in the making, she knew the story behind the name as well. “I read… she’s You-Know-Who’s most formidable lieutenant… an infamous dark witch known for her… cruelty.”
Arthur tore his attention away, shaking himself, then glanced at the quiet, Middle Eastern-looking man calmly watching the sky. “That, Mr…” He hesitated, but went on. “Mr. Ali, don’t you plan to go and help?” Out of everyone in their group, he could think of only one person qualified enough to intervene in a duel of that scale.
In return, Ali gave him only a brief glance, then, without saying a word, continued to watch, sending a wave of awkwardness over Arthur.
The duel didn’t last long, at least seemingly, and before long the sky above them fell silent again. The ominous Mark of the Dark Lord still hung in the sky, bathing it in a brilliant green, but everyone’s attention had long been captured by the brief yet epic duel that had just unfolded.
“Who won?” someone finally asked amidst the silence, but no one answered. The figures were too high, silhouetted against the green light, impossible to make out.
“Right,” Sirius said at last. “Shouldn’t we be leaving… what’s the point of staying any longer?” In fact, his heart was in turmoil—confusion, anger, and… a twinge, just a twinge of worry he wanted to push aside as quickly as possible. After all, no matter how ruthless or mad a bitch Balatrix was, she was still his sister.
The chaos around them had dulled to distant echoes by now, just as Lupin had said it would, and for a brief moment, it seemed like things had finally turned alright.
However, just as everyone had finally let out a sigh of relief, they felt a sudden change in the atmosphere again, quite literally this time.
A suffocating, overwhelming pressure descended over them without warning, heavy as if a tsunami hovered above, stealing their breaths and freezing their blood. Every person present felt it at once, eyes widening in shared dread as something vast and terrible made itself known.
It was a stark contrast to when Ali and Lupin had descended, feeling the weight of a great mage’s magic. In fact, this felt nothing like that. This was more primal, as if reckoning itself had descended upon them. Before they knew it, everyone in the area fell to their knees, unable even to lift their heads. No one was spared—not children, not adults—and every breath seemed to catch in their throats.
---
A little while earlier, high above the devastated campsite.
“You cannot win against the two of us, Alastor,” Rosier said coolly, his gaze fixed on the one-eyed, fierce-looking man, trying to convince him to give up willingly in exchange for their promise to stop the carnage unfolding below.
But Moody gave her only a verbal middle finger, as if laughing at her audacity. “Heh… I know I can’t take on the two of you, you stupid cunt...” His growl then cut off, laughter fading into a wide, dangerous grin. “But… what about him?”
As he spoke, his gaze fixed just behind the maddest of the two, to which Balatrix only tilted her head, as if silently asking what madness he was spouting. Still, she turned, not even bothered if she would be attacked as she did, and while doing so, she chuckled, saying, “Who–”
Only to be met with a hand covering her face before it gripped her forehead.
“Me…” was all she heard.
In the next instant, a gut-wrenching, agonizing wail tore from her lungs as a monstrous force of absolute power enveloped her, shocking her body to the core as if she were being electrocuted, making her tremble violently as though seized by a convulsion.
With his current mastery, Maverick could focus his dominant spirit on a single target, but when unleashing his ocean of magic all at once, some of it was bound to leak. He wanted to obliterate the lunatic completely, body and soul, so he held nothing back, but a small fraction of his momentum still radiated outward from him at the center.
Apart from the crazy woman, the two closest to him—Rosier and Alastor—felt it most, nearly losing their grip on their brooms. But great magi were still great magi, and they held on, albeit barely, their faces etched with horrified expressions as they looked at him. And down below, well, for now, he had no idea.
Comments
QuantumServer
Farm the aura
QuantumServer
Thanks for the chapter!
André Lange
So awesome seeing him flexing those powers!!
