Shadowflame

Diana soared through the sky, leaving the bustling chaos of Mount Justice behind like an old superhero costume that just didn't fit anymore. The sun warmed her skin, filling her with energy as she flew toward Themyscira, her heart racing with anticipation. It had been a long night, dropping off Harry, Kara, Kori, Sirius, and Talia. Honestly, Diana was ready for a break from the superhero hustle.

As she approached the familiar shores of her island paradise, the sound of waves crashing against the cliffs mixed with the cheerful shouts of her fellow Amazons training nearby. Once she landed at the palace, she was immediately enveloped in the warm embrace of her mother, Queen Hippolyta, who looked like she could take on an army with just a fierce glare.

"Diana! It's wonderful to see you!" Hippolyta exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with a pride that could probably light up the whole island. "You've been busy, haven't you?"

"Always, Mother," Diana replied, managing a smile while internally debating whether she'd ever get to just hang out without some world-saving drama.

After exchanging pleasantries, they settled into a large room adorned with tapestries that told the stories of the Amazons. It was like a history lesson but with more action and fewer boring footnotes. "So, about this meeting with Atlantis and the UN," Diana began, "we need to ensure we present a united front. This could change everything."

Just as they were diving into the serious stuff—because apparently world diplomacy was a thing—they were interrupted by the dramatic entrance of Donna Troy, who burst through the door like a whirlwind of energy. Seriously, if there was an Olympic event for entrance drama, she'd take home the gold.

"Diana! I've been waiting forever to see you!" Donna declared, her excitement palpable enough to power a small village.

"Hey, Donna! How was training with Antiope?" Diana asked, mentally bracing herself for the over-the-top answer.

"Intense! But that's not why I'm here! I heard something incredible—you have a son now? I need to meet him!" Donna practically bounced on her heels, and Diana couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yes, Harry," Diana confirmed, a proud glimmer in her eye. "He's been through a lot. I found him in a pretty rough spot, and now he's part of our family."

"Oh, cool! What's he like? Is he as awesome as you? I can't wait to lord it over him that I'm his aunt, even if I'm younger!" Donna grinned, clearly relishing the thought of that sibling rivalry.

"Easy there, superstar," Diana laughed. "He's amazing in his own right. But we need to keep things under wraps for now. His story is… complicated."

Hippolyta, listening intently, leaned forward. "And I would like to meet my grandson as well. Unfortunately, he cannot come to Themyscira being a boy, but perhaps you could bring him to visit in Man's World?"

"Of course! That's the plan," Diana assured her mother, her mind racing with the details. "We've come up with a backstory for him to protect his identity. He'll go by Harry Peverell. Turns out, he's actually a descendant of the Peverells, so he's the last living heir of that family."

"Wait, Charis Peverell?" Donna interrupted, her brow furrowed in curiosity. "Why that name?"

"It means grace," Diana explained, her voice softening. "It suits him. He's been through so much and yet he's determined to help others."

"And who is this James Peverell?" Hippolyta inquired, eyes sharp and perceptive.

"James is the alias we created for his father—a wealthy philanthropist I dated ages ago. He tragically died in an accident shortly after I found out I was pregnant with Harry. At the time, I was… conveniently busy with a crisis here in Themyscira," Diana said, her voice steady but laced with a hint of sadness. "The League will spin it to say I was mourning while giving birth to Harry, but I had to keep him away from prying eyes for his own safety."

"Wow, quite the story," Donna said, a mix of admiration and disbelief washing over her. "So he's Wonder Woman's son but has a whole life waiting for him?"

"Exactly," Diana affirmed, her smile returning. "He has a strong desire to be a hero, and he's taken on the mantle of Shadowflame. He's ready to make his mark."

"And I assume the Peverell family empire will be waiting for him when he turns eighteen?" Hippolyta asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yep! Batman helped create a cover story using one of his dummy companies—the Peverell Foundation," Diana explained, leaning back in her chair, feeling a bit like a proud mom with an epic résumé. "It's run by his godfather, Sirius, who also has a backstory as James' best friend, along with Talia using the alias Talia Tate."

Hippolyta nodded, absorbing the information like a sponge. "It sounds like Harry is destined for greatness, much like his mother."

"I hope so," Diana said, a warm smile spreading across her face. "He deserves to know where he comes from. When the time is right, we'll introduce him to his family."

Donna's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I can't wait to meet him! He's going to love having us as family."

As they continued to discuss plans for the future, Diana felt a surge of hope. Harry's journey was still unfolding, but he wasn't alone. He had family, a legacy, and a bright future ahead—one filled with heroism and perhaps a little bit of mischief, just like his aunt and mother. And that, Diana mused, was something worth celebrating.

—

As I lay in bed, the soft weight of Kara and Kori snuggled against me felt like pure bliss. It was like being wrapped in a cozy blanket of awesomeness. Seriously, if someone could bottle this feeling, they'd be richer than Bruce Wayne. The two girls were fast asleep, looking peaceful enough to make even the toughest villain reconsider their life choices. But of course, my mind was buzzing with a million thoughts—mostly about the shiny thing in my hands.

In my grasp was the Potter Family Invisibility Cloak, a treasure from my past. I could practically hear the echoes of my adventures as I stared at it. Hogwarts, midnight sneaking, the occasional near-death experience—you know, typical wizard stuff. But now, I was in a bit of a pickle. Should I absorb this cloak into my armor?

The Crimson Gemstone in my armor pulsed, practically begging me to make a move. It felt like a kid in a candy store, and I was the poor parent trying to keep them from going wild. On one hand, this was an incredible opportunity to supercharge my powers. On the other, it felt like I'd be tossing a piece of my family's legacy into a cosmic blender. Great. Just great.

Just then, I felt a stir beside me. Kori blinked awake, her fiery red hair an absolute mess, and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Harry?" she mumbled, her voice all soft and sleepy. "What are you doing? Are you planning to kick the butt of someone while I am sleeping?"

I laughed. "No, Kori. Just…thinking."

"Thinking is good!" she exclaimed, suddenly wide awake and leaning closer. "What do you think about?"

I hesitated for a second, then lifted the cloak. "I was thinking about this. I'm not sure if I should absorb it into my armor."

Her eyes went wide, like I'd just told her I was going to fly to the moon on a giant marshmallow. "The beautiful invisibility cloak? That sounds so fun! But you look very serious. Is it not a good idea?"

"It's a big decision," I admitted, trying to articulate my feelings without sounding like a total sap. "This cloak means a lot to me. It's like my trusty sidekick."

"Ah, I understand! It is like a shlorvak for you! A special thing!" Kori beamed, her smile practically lighting up the room. "But if it will help you become more powerful, then it must be a great thing to do!"

Just then, Kara woke up, blinking at us as if she'd just stepped out of a time warp. "What is happening?" she asked, stifling a yawn. "Did I miss something?"

"Kori thinks I should absorb the cloak into my armor," I explained, hoping to make this sound less dramatic than it felt. "But I'm unsure."

Kara tilted her head, considering. "Why do you feel unsure? If it will help you protect us, then maybe you should do it!"

"But I will lose something special," I said, glancing at the cloak, feeling a pang in my chest. "It's a part of my family."

Kori leaned closer, her eyes filled with sincerity. "Your family is here with you, Harry! We are your family now! You must do what feels right in your heart."

Their words hit me like a ton of bricks, but in a good way. They were right. I had a new family now—one that would support me no matter what I chose. Maybe absorbing the cloak wasn't about losing my past but about gaining strength to protect my future.

With newfound determination, I nodded. "You both are right. I do not need to rush into this decision."

As I set the cloak aside for the moment, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. My gaze drifted back to Kara and Kori, their warmth and comfort wrapping around me like a protective blanket. Whatever came next, I knew I could face it with them by my side.

"Now, how about we get some more sleep?" I suggested, grinning. "There is nothing to kick the butt about right now."

"Good idea!" Kori said, practically bouncing back down into the covers.

Kara smiled, settling back in as well. As I closed my eyes, ready to embrace whatever new adventures awaited us, I couldn't help but think that with a little luck and a lot of magic, we could handle anything—together.

—

I was in the middle of an epic dream—so epic that I was probably going to need a whole series of books to do it justice. Picture this: I'm zooming through the skies, dodging Death Eaters while trying to maintain my balance with a giant slice of chocolate cake in one hand. You know, standard hero stuff. Just as I was about to shout something cool like, "Avada Kedavra? More like Avada... not today!" I was jolted awake by a weight on my chest.

I squinted against the morning light and found Kori and Kara sitting way too close for comfort, their faces alight with the kind of excitement you usually see in kids who just discovered a treasure map.

"Harry!" Kori chirped, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. "We have discovered an incredible method of waking up that will make you feel happy and good!"

"Happy and good?" I echoed, still trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "Like, a surprise party? Because I could totally use some cake right now."

They exchanged a look that screamed, "You're missing the point!" Kori leaned in, her big green eyes sparkling. "No, Harry! Not a party with cake! It is a more delightful way, one that involves helping you feel very good when you awaken!"

I was now fully awake, and my brain was racing to catch up. "Delightful way? As in... like a special breakfast? I mean, I love pancakes."

Kara's expression was a mix of determination and innocence. "It is much more intimate, Harry! Something that girlfriends do for their boyfriends!"

Ah, there it was. My face felt like it was spontaneously combusting. "Oh! Right! Like kisses! Kisses are good!" Wow, I really hoped that was a safe answer.

"Yes!" Kori exclaimed, her enthusiasm radiating. "But this is a different kind of waking! Like how you do with your, um, kisses?"

I suddenly felt like I had stepped into a really awkward scene from a rom-com. "Kisses? Sure! Kisses are great, but you know what else is great? Movies! We could totally watch a movie instead!"

Their expressions told me that I was not making any headway. Kori leaned in even closer, practically glowing with excitement. "No, no, Harry! We want to wake you up in a special way! To make you happy!"

"Right, right! I get that! But how about we stick to breakfast first?" I felt like I was trying to redirect a runaway train. "Maybe pancakes, followed by a movie marathon? I promise I'll be the happiest Harry ever!"

"Movie!" Kori exclaimed, clapping her hands as if she'd just discovered the meaning of life.

"Yes! And then we will figure out how to make your waking extra special!" Kara added, her eyes sparkling like they were about to set off fireworks.

As we settled down to binge-watch whatever movie I could find, I couldn't help but marvel at the sheer absurdity of my life. Here I was, Harry Potter, trying to navigate a universe where two adorable but utterly clueless alien girls were intent on making my mornings as complicated as possible. Just another day in my wonderfully weird life, right?

—

So, after that very interesting wake-up call the girls had given me (let's just say it was an experience I would not be forgetting anytime soon), I was ready for a shower. Honestly, I felt like I needed to wash off the remnants of whatever bizarre dream—or reality—I'd stumbled into.

"Okay, Harry," I muttered to myself as I stepped into the bathroom, the steam curling around me like a fluffy cloud. "This is your life now. Just roll with it."

In the end, I couldn't help but laugh. One day, I'm a wizard trying to figure out how to stop dark lords, and the next, I'm in a complicated superhero love triangle with two incredibly powerful alien girls. How does that even happen?

After a shower that felt like a mini-vacation (because nothing says "rejuvenation" like hot water and soap), I emerged feeling like a new man. I slipped on my favorite joggers and an old T-shirt—one that was slightly too small but had a cool graphic of a phoenix on it. "Perfect for a day of heroics," I thought, admiring my reflection with a cheeky grin.

I strolled into the main room, and wow, was it a sight to behold. Kara was adjusting her Supergirl uniform, looking a mix of powerful and a little uncomfortable. "Ugh, why do these suits have to be so tight?" she grumbled, tugging at the hem like it was a rebellious snake.

Kori, on the other hand, was in full-on fashion mode, sliding into her Starfire outfit like a pro. "I feel strong like K'norfka! Like I can save planets!" she declared, striking a pose that would make any superheroine proud.

"Just save the flying for the Watchtower, okay?" I said, trying to suppress a laugh. "We don't want to alarm the neighbors with any spontaneous superhero landings."

"Agreed!" Kori said, her eyes sparkling like she was ready to take on the universe. "But I want to see the big shiny circle in the sky again!"

Once they were all suited up, I grabbed my backpack and nodded at the girls. "So, you're headed to the Watchtower to hang out with Megan and Zatanna. Make sure to give Megan a hug from me, alright? She's like a sister."

"Will do!" Kara replied, giving me a thumbs-up. "Zatanna will love that too. She always enjoys a good 'hey, Harry is thinking of you' message."

"Especially after we kinda left them in the dust yesterday," Kori added, her cheerful smile lighting up the room.

"Right! Let's keep that little adventure on the down-low," I said, waving a hand like I was sealing a pact. "No one needs to know about our very interesting morning."

As we stepped outside into the bright sunlight, I couldn't shake the feeling of excitement bubbling in my stomach. With Kara and Kori beside me, I was ready for whatever awaited us.

What could possibly go wrong?

Okay, don't answer that.

---

Deathstroke was having a pretty decent day. And by "decent," we mean he hadn't killed anyone important—yet. Lex Luthor's latest contract? Child's play. A few scientists poking their noses where they didn't belong, no big deal. It was the kind of job Slade could do in his sleep.

Rose Wilson, his daughter and trainee, sounded bored out of her mind as she chimed over the comms. "Target down. Do we really have to stick around for extraction?"

Slade rolled his eye. "Patience, Rose. It builds character."

She groaned. "That sounds like something old people say when they want you to suffer."

He let out a quiet chuckle—okay, she wasn't wrong—and leaned against the rooftop's ledge, staring down at Gotham's murky streets. The city looked like someone had taken the world's grimiest snow globe and smashed it on a rainy sidewalk. But, hey, that was Gotham for you.

Just as Slade was about to give the all-clear, his comm pinged. A new data feed flashed across his screen. He took a glance—then froze.

Ra's al Ghul. Captured by the Justice League.

That wasn't the kind of thing you just brushed off. Ra's had been untouchable for, oh, a few centuries. And the League didn't just take him down; they stormed Nanda Parbat—his personal fortress—and bagged some bonus villains along the way. Sportsmaster, Cheshire, a few other lower-tier baddies.

But the real kicker? Talia al Ghul, Ra's own daughter, sold him out.

Slade let out a low whistle. "Well. That's awkward."

This, right here, was the kind of chaos Slade lived for. Power shifts. Betrayals. Ancient empires teetering on the edge of collapse. It was like a Shakespearean drama, but with more sword fights and fewer confusing soliloquies.

Rose's voice buzzed in his ear again. "Dad? What's going on?"

"We're leaving." Slade slung his rifle across his back. "The contract's done. We've got bigger things to handle."

A pause. "Bigger than assassinating Luthor's enemies?"

Slade grinned under his mask. "Much bigger. Ra's al Ghul is out of the game, and the League of Assassins is up for grabs."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Wait. You're going after them?" Rose sounded half-excited, half-terrified—pretty much how most people felt whenever Slade made plans.

"We are," he corrected. "With Ra's gone and Talia betraying him, the League's in free fall. Perfect time to swoop in and take control."

Slade started moving, boots silent against the rain-slick rooftop. The League of Assassins wasn't just some ragtag bunch of hitmen. It was an ancient network with fingers in every pie—blackmail, espionage, assassinations, you name it. And with the right leader, it could become unstoppable.

Rose, never one to miss a beat, was already on the same wavelength. "So… What's the play?"

"We visit Talia. See if she's in the mood to cooperate." He shrugged, which was impressive, considering he was holding a grappling hook. "If not, well… you could use the combat practice."

Rose snorted. "You always say that."

"Because it's always true."

He fired the grappling hook, and with a hiss of cable, he swung into the night. The cold air whipped against him, but Slade didn't feel it. All he felt was the thrill of a perfectly executed plan sliding into place.

"Suit up, Rose," he said as he soared through the air. "We've got a League to steal."

This wasn't just about power or control—okay, it was mostly about power and control—but it was also about legacy. Slade wasn't going to let centuries of assassins, spies, and operatives scatter to the wind.

Because if there was one thing Slade Wilson knew how to do, it was take what wasn't his—and make it better.

And with Rose by his side? They were about to build something no one could touch.

---

Meanwhile, somewhere in Northern Africa, Nyssa Raatko—better known as Nyssa al Ghul—was having one of those "multitasking" days. You know, the kind where you're planning a high-profile assassination and suddenly get hit with family drama on top of it.

She stood at the edge of a campfire, casually oiling a dagger while her team prepped for the night's festivities: the assassination of a ruthless warlord who, by all accounts, deserved everything coming his way. But just as Nyssa finished testing the blade's weight in her hand, her comm crackled to life.

The report that came through made her pause mid-throw. Her father—Ra's al Ghul himself—had been captured by the Justice League. That alone was enough to make her eyebrows rise. But the cherry on top? It wasn't the League that had tipped the scales against him—it was her half-sister, Talia.

Nyssa blinked once. Twice. Then muttered, "Of course it was her."

To be fair, Talia had always been unpredictable, but betrayal at this level? That was impressive, even for her. Nyssa tossed the dagger into the air, caught it easily, and smirked to herself. "Guess the family reunion's going to be... interesting."

The assassin next to her—a wiry man named Yusuf—gave her a curious look. "What is it, Mistress?"

She turned her gaze toward him, her expression cold but amused. "A family emergency."

Yusuf frowned. "Should we cancel the mission?"

Nyssa laughed—a sharp, bitter sound. "No. First, we kill a warlord. Then, we free my father. And after that?" She spun the dagger on her finger like a baton. "We deal with Talia."

She didn't say "avenge" out loud, but the promise was there, hanging in the air like a blade waiting to drop. Talia had crossed a line—one even Nyssa wouldn't have dared to breach. And there were some things you just didn't walk away from, not in the League of Assassins, and definitely not when Nyssa al Ghul was involved.

Yusuf shifted uneasily, but he knew better than to argue. "The warlord won't know what hit him."

"No," Nyssa murmured, her eyes glinting in the firelight. "He won't."

She turned toward the camp, motioning for her team to move out. The warlord was a mere stepping stone—a warm-up, really—for the far bloodier work she had ahead of her. Because freeing her father was only the first item on her list. After that, Nyssa was going to make sure Talia learned a valuable lesson.

Family could stab you in the back. But Nyssa? She always made sure to stab back.

With that thought, she adjusted her hood, gave her team a silent signal, and disappeared into the night.

She had a warlord to kill—and a sister to settle the score with.

---

Meanwhile, at Mount Justice, Talia al Ghul sat comfortably on the couch, looking as if she owned the place—which, knowing Talia, wasn't far from the truth. She leaned back with a smug smile, her sharp green eyes glinting with mischief, while Sirius Black slouched beside her, glaring into his coffee like it had personally offended him.

"So," Talia said, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "have I told you about the time Ra's forced Grimm here to spar against six assassins—blindfolded?"

Remus Lupin blinked. "I'm sorry... who's Grimm?"

Harry, perched on the armrest with one eyebrow raised, fought back a grin. "Sirius, apparently."

Sirius groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose like a man who regretted every choice that led to this exact moment. "I told you not to call me that."

"You were the Grimm," Talia said, smirking. "You had no memory of who you were—didn't even know your name—so we gave you one." She paused dramatically. "The Grimm. Mysterious, dangerous... if a little scruffy."

"Scruffy?" Sirius muttered under his breath. "That's rich, coming from a bunch of ninjas with hygiene issues."

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Wait. So you're telling me my godfather—the Sirius Black—became an assassin for the League?"

"Almost," Talia replied smoothly. "Ra's wanted him to join, but Sirius—sorry, Grimm—wasn't exactly cooperative. Even without his memories, he was... stubborn."

"Stubborn?" Sirius snorted. "Try 'unreasonable.' I wasn't about to become the League's attack dog, no matter how many times your dear old dad tried to make me 'see reason.'"

Talia rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, that didn't stop Ra's from trying. You should've seen it, Harry. The way he fought—brute force combined with reckless instinct. No technique, no finesse, but somehow, he managed to survive every trial Ra's threw at him." She looked over at Sirius with a fond, teasing smile. "It was... impressive, in a chaotic sort of way."

Remus chuckled. "That sounds about right."

"I punched my way through it," Sirius grumbled, shifting in his seat. "Literally. When in doubt, hit harder. That's the Black family way."

"You were very... memorable," Talia continued, clearly enjoying herself. "Even Ra's admitted that. He kept saying you were like a wolf that didn't know it was a wolf. Raw power, no discipline. It's why he named you Grimm—to remind you of what you were, even if you didn't remember it yourself."

Harry leaned in, grinning. "And I bet you hated every second of it."

Sirius shot him a deadpan look. "What do you think?"

"Oh, you were terrible at first," Talia said with a sly smile. "Tripping over your own feet, snapping at everyone like an angry dog. But once Ra's forced you to start training, you got better—way better."

"Of course I did," Sirius muttered. "If I didn't, they'd have killed me."

Talia shrugged, as if that was just part of the charm. "It was survival of the fittest. And somehow, despite your... rough start, you survived." She gave him an amused look. "You even earned the respect of some of the assassins."

Harry crossed his arms, the grin never leaving his face. "So let me get this straight. You were basically a memory-wiped, grouchy assassin-in-training, and Ra's wanted to recruit you because you fought like a wild animal?"

"Pretty much," Sirius muttered. "And here I thought Azkaban was bad."

"You were quite the spectacle," Talia added, her voice dripping with amusement. "It's a shame you never joined the League. You would have made a legendary assassin."

Sirius huffed. "Yeah, well, I'm more of a 'freedom and pranks' kind of guy. Not really into the whole 'cult of murder' scene."

Remus shook his head with a laugh. "You've had quite the adventure, Padfoot."

Sirius shot him a playful glare. "Adventure? Try nightmare."

Harry leaned back, folding his arms with a satisfied grin. "I don't know. Sounds like a good story to me. 'Sirius Black: The Assassin Who Refused to Play Along.'"

Talia smirked. "It does have a certain... poetic ring to it."

Sirius gave Harry a sidelong glance. "If you write that, I'll hex you."

"Worth it," Harry said with a shrug.

---

Back in the Wizarding World, things were going about as well as you'd expect when Lucius and Draco Malfoy were put in charge—meaning they were supervising from the sidelines while barking orders at a group of particularly inept Death Eaters. These were the bottom-tier types: the kind of Death Eaters you hire when you need a door kicked in but don't care if they do it face-first.

"Careful with that rubble, you idiot!" Lucius snapped, waving his cane at a Death Eater who looked like he'd failed every single OWL exam. "The Dark Lord wants this room cleared, not further demolished."

Draco, standing off to the side, arms crossed and looking thoroughly bored, leaned closer to his father. "They can't all be this stupid, can they?"

Lucius sneered. "I've tried to believe otherwise, but every day proves me wrong."

The room they were so painstakingly trying to clear housed the remains of the Veil of Death, or what was left of it after the Weasleys—those infernal, red-headed Blood Traitors—had blown it to bits the previous month. The thought of it still made Lucius's skin crawl.

"Blood traitors," he muttered under his breath, as if saying it aloud might somehow curse the Weasleys into a worse afterlife. "The worst family to ever pollute wizarding bloodlines."

"Right," Draco added bitterly. "And they didn't just leave. No, they escaped—dragging along half of wizarding society with them!" His upper lip curled in disgust. "Half-bloods, Mudbloods, even Pureblood traitors like the Longbottoms. And the Greengrasses! Daphne Greengrass would've made a perfect bride, too—if she hadn't run off with that lot."

"And don't forget the Veela," Lucius grumbled, rubbing his temples. "The Dark Lord's forces could've used the morale boost. But no. All of them, gone."

Even the goblins—greedy little pests—had slipped through the Veil. And, because goblins never leave empty-handed, they'd taken every last Galleon from Gringotts with them, effectively bankrupting Wizarding Britain. The Malfoy family vault was as empty as Draco's sympathy for house-elves. No gold, no investments, nothing. Poof.

And the dragons—they still couldn't figure out how the Weasleys managed to smuggle dragons through the Veil, but those beasts had gone, too. Now Britain was dragonless and destitute.

Draco kicked a piece of debris across the room. "I swear, if I ever see another Weasley—"

"You'll do nothing," Lucius interrupted sharply. "Not until the Dark Lord decides how we're going to fix this mess."

Fixing things, in this case, meant clearing out the ruined chamber before Voldemort's wrath descended upon them—because if there was one thing the Dark Lord hated more than Harry Potter, it was incompetence.

Speaking of wrath...

In the manor's east wing, Narcissa Malfoy was stuck with the unenviable task of tending to Bellatrix, whose mind had spiraled into the kind of madness that made even her usual level of insanity look tame. The explosion that destroyed the Veil had taken her husband, Rodolphus, along with it. Whether Bellatrix was mourning or celebrating the fact was anyone's guess.

She'd been laughing—no, cackling—ever since, like an old phonograph record stuck on the worst song imaginable.

"She's lost it completely," Narcissa murmured, dabbing at her sister's face with a damp cloth. Bellatrix's wild eyes gleamed as she stared off into nothing, her lips twitching with glee—or maybe sorrow. It was impossible to tell with Bellatrix. The line between joy and devastation had always been razor-thin with her.

"Rodolphus is dead," Bellatrix whispered suddenly, her voice full of eerie delight, as if she were sharing a secret joke. Then she cackled—high, shrill, and utterly unhinged. "Boom! Gone, just like that! Isn't it wonderful?"

Narcissa winced, pretending not to hear the strange mixture of glee and despair in her sister's words. There was no point reasoning with Bellatrix. There never had been.

Lucius, from the doorway, gave Narcissa a weary look. "How is she?"

"Mad as a box of Puffskeins," Narcissa said, sighing. "But you already knew that."

Draco peeked in from behind his father, taking one look at his aunt and deciding he wanted nothing to do with whatever this situation was. "I'll be... downstairs," he mumbled, retreating before Bellatrix noticed him.

"Wise choice," Lucius muttered under his breath.

Bellatrix suddenly stopped laughing, her dark eyes locking onto Lucius with disturbing clarity. "Lucius, darling," she purred, a dangerous smile spreading across her face. "When are we going to hurt someone?"

Lucius's spine stiffened. "Soon, Bella. Very soon."

And with that unsettling promise hanging in the air, Lucius turned on his heel, cane tapping sharply against the marble floor as he strode away, Draco trailing behind him like a reluctant shadow.

The room behind them filled with Bellatrix's giggling again—soft, eerie, and far too pleased with the world's destruction.

---

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