The Marauders: A Hogwarts Tale

"Confringo!" The curse erupted from Godric, and a fiery blast consumed the wooden dummies in the Ignis Training Room. "Depulso!"

The air crackled as spells surged across the dark chamber, their flashes illuminating the blackened volcanic stone walls. Each strike sent echoes reverberating through the room. Sweat ran in rivulets down Godric's face and arms, clinging to his training-worn tunic. His movements were a blur of precision, his blade cutting cleanly through the dummies. Splinters and shards of wood littered the floor with every swing. Between strikes, he pivoted sharply, casting spells that slammed into the targets behind him, weaving magic and steel into a relentless barrage.

To Godric, the dummies weren't lifeless wood. They wore Volg's face—sneering, mocking, twisted into that same insufferable grin. The phantom voice taunted him, filling the room as if spoken aloud.

"She'll never be yours, New Blood. You can't save her!"

His grip tightened on the sword, the hilt biting into his palm. Anger boiled under his skin, and the fiery circuits etched across his body ignited with a bright yellow glow, flickering like molten veins. His strikes became faster, harder, each one driving him closer to the edge of control.

"White wolf therianthropes are rare, you know? She's a goldmine, and she's going to make me very rich. She wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you. All of this—everything—is your fault."

The final dummy loomed before him, Volg's face flashing in his mind. Godric let out a feral roar, his body a blur as he dashed forward. The blade in his hand sang as it cut through the air, a streak of silver. He came to a stop just behind the dummy, chest heaving, his breath harsh and ragged.

Behind him, the dummy fractured with a sharp crack, its two halves collapsing in a scatter of splinters. The training room grew silent, the only sounds lingering were the faint hum of dissipating magic and the dull thud of wood striking stone.

Godric's chest rose and fell with each labored breath, his body slick with sweat. His heart thundered, driven by a volatile mix of fury and grief that refused to relent. His thoughts churned in chaotic waves—anger searing through him, sorrow pulling him under. A shadow of doubt crept in, whispering fears that he might not be strong enough to endure. That Volg and The Calishans might triumph in the end.

The weight of that darkness was impossible to ignore, spreading like a stain through his life. It showed in his classes, in his work—an unspoken burden he carried everywhere. The professors, though they offered their own form of support, seemed to recognize their limits. Their efforts were kind, but ultimately powerless against the storm raging within him.

Godric's eyes snapped open, and his blade was up in an instant, its silver edge stopping just short of the boy's throat.

The boy froze, his hands lifting slowly in surrender. His gaze flicked to the blade, worry glinting in his eyes as he swallowed hard.

"Easy there, Gryffindor," he said. "I'm not here to fight."

Godric's gaze flicked to the Ferrum emblem on the boy's robes, his expression hardening. "You're not Ignis," he said flatly. "So, unless you're lost, you've got precisely ten seconds to explain yourself. Start talking."

The boy hesitated. "Adrian Veidt. I'm…" He paused, then forced the words out. "I was part of the Calishans."

Godric's expression darkened. His blade inched closer, and Adrian instinctively stepped back.

"Calishans?" Godric growled. "You've got some nerve showing your face here, Veidt. What's the plan? Hoping to take me out before I get to you, or is this just a pathetic attempt to crawl back into Volg's good graces?"

"As I said, I've left the Calishans—me, and a dozen others. I've no love or loyalty left for Volg Dryfus. He's always been unhinged, but thanks to you, the door's completely off the wall now," Adrian said, his gaze darting to the blade still trained on him. "I came here to talk. As you can see, I mean no harm. I understand your anger, but even the Lion of Ignis wouldn't stoop to striking down an unarmed man."

Godric drew a sharp breath, his grip tightening on the hilt before he reluctantly lowered his sword. "Why are you here? Other than to tempt fate."

Adrian straightened, though a faint tremor betrayed his nerves. "I came on behalf of the others—and myself—to confess our sins." His voice wavered for a moment, but his stance remained firm. "We've done terrible things. Horrible things. Under Volg's command, yes, but we can't deny we reveled in it. The pain. The fear. The destruction we caused."

Godric's gaze sharpened. "If you've come looking for forgiveness, Adrian, you've taken a wrong turn," he said coldly. "This isn't a church, and I'm no priest."

"We also…" Adrian faltered, his gaze dropping as if the weight of his words was too much to bear. "We did… things… to her. To Raine." He swallowed hard. "For days. Repeatedly. Over and over. She begged, pleaded, and cried, but we didn't stop."

A chill shot through Godric, ice giving way to fire as fury consumed him. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, and before he could think, the blade rose high above his head, poised to strike.

"You... You bastards!" he roared, the words tearing from his throat as he prepared to cleave Adrian in two.

Adrian dropped to his knees, his hands limp at his sides. He looked up at Godric, his expression a raw mixture of defiance and despair. "Go ahead, Gryffindor. Strike me down. Strike true!" Tears spilled down his face.

Godric froze, the sword trembling in his grip as it hovered over Adrian.

"I won't beg for your mercy," Adrian said, his tone steady now despite the tears. His gaze locked onto Godric, unflinching. "I know none of us deserve it. If you want your pound of flesh…" He grabbed the collar of his shirt and ripped it open, buttons scattering across the stone floor. His chest was bare, exposed.

"Take it from me," Adrian continued. "Let your rage be sated with my life and mine alone. But spare the others. Leave them to live with what we've done. Let my death be enough."

"Adrian…" Godric began. "You…" His words faltered, hanging in the air like an unfinished storm.

A tense silence hung between them, the icy winter air seeping through the cracks in the walls and biting against Godric's sweat-soaked skin. The moment stretched, heavy and unspoken, before he scoffed softly, his expression tightening. He squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling sharply, then turned away and lowered his sword.

"Get lost," Godric said, turning his back to Adrian. "Leave, and don't come back."

Adrian stared at him, more confused than afraid. "I… I don't understand. We've done unspeakable things to the one you care about most. And yet, you want no retribution?"

Godric spun back around, stepping closer. His gaze burned with intensity; his jaw tight as he leaned in. "Don't mistake my restraint for forgiveness," he said. "I haven't forgiven you. Not you, not any of them."

He jabbed a finger toward Adrian. "You want redemption? Or some pathetic shred of it? Then listen closely. When you and your friends see me in the hallways, you turn around and walk the other way. You don't speak. You don't look. You disappear."

Godric's expression darkened further, his teeth bared. "Raine didn't hurt you. Any of you. She's a slave—ripped from her family, forced into a life she never chose. And now, thanks to you, she's about to be sent to a fate worse than death."

"So no, I won't take your head—not here, no matter how much I want to." He exhaled sharply. "But don't fool yourself into thinking you're absolved. As far as I'm concerned, you and your friends can go straight to Hell."

He turned, striding toward his bag and scabbard. Behind him, Adrian's gaze lingered on the floor, his shoulders tense. Then, with sudden resolve, he sprang to his feet.

"I can take you to her."

Godric froze mid-step, his body stiffening as he slowly turned back, eyes wide.

"I can take you to Raine," Adrian said again. "I know where Volg is keeping her. I know the layout, the security, and how to get through." He paused, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "It won't erase what I've done—what any of us have done. But please… let me try to make this right. Give me this one chance to find some semblance of peace."

Godric's gaze hardened as he studied Adrian, his expression unreadable. Doubt churned in his mind. Was this an elaborate trap, or the desperate plea of someone seeking atonement?

He exhaled slowly, the weight of the decision pressing on him. His fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword, the faint creak of the handle breaking the silence. At last, his eyes locked with Adrian's, the tension between them heavy and unyielding, the moment stretching like a taut thread.

****

Within her cell in the castle tower, Raine huddled in the corner, clutching a tattered blanket that offered the faintest comfort against the oppressive darkness. The damp, cold stone pressed against her bare skin, its chill biting and unrelenting. She buried her face against her knees, hugging them tightly, her wolfen ears drooping with the weight of her despair. The rhythmic drip of water from the ceiling onto the floor was the only sound breaking the suffocating silence.

Each moment apart from her mate gnawed at her soul. She yearned for him—his warmth, his touch, the quiet strength in his smile. The sound of his voice lingered in her memory, a fleeting refuge against the ache that consumed her. The thought of losing it all, of being torn from the life they might have had together, filled her with a dread so vast it threatened to shatter her completely.

And yet, deep within her, a fragile hope flickered. Despite the stakes, despite the odds, she clung to the belief that her lion would rise. That he would carve through the darkness and find her. That one day, against all odds, they would be together again.

Her ears twitched at the sound of the tower door creaking open, but this time, there was no dread. No fear. Her tongue brushed against the raw wound on her lip, tasting the faint metallic tang of blood. Volg had spent the past few days venting his anger on her, though he never went too far. She was still considered premium merchandise—either promised to another or collateral for the impending duel.

Yet none of it stirred her anymore. The fear, the pain—it was all distant now, lost in a haze of numbness that no magic, fists, or whips could ever pierce again.

Once, even as a slave in Excalibur, she had dared to hope. She had clung to the belief that something better awaited her, that there was a life beyond the chains. But in this cell, with the Mills looming in her future, that fragile hope had been extinguished. Here, in the cold isolation of the tower, everything felt irrevocably lost.

"Raine?"

Her golden eyes widened at the sound of a voice she never thought she'd hear again. Slowly, she lifted her head, her gaze darting to the entrance. In the dim tower light, a figure emerged.

"Godric?" she whispered. She pushed herself to her feet, her steps cautious, hesitant. "Is it really you?"

Godric stepped closer, his expression a mix of relief and joy. A bright smile broke across his face, mirrored by the one pulling at Raine's lips as tears began to spill down her cheeks. Her breath caught as she rushed to the cell door, Godric meeting her there.

Through the iron bars, they reached for each other, their hands gripping tightly as if afraid to let go. Their lips met in a deep, passionate kiss, a fleeting connection that swept away the anguish of their separation, if only for a brief, fragile moment.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Godric murmured, his crimson eyes locked with hers, their foreheads pressed together. "Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you. I missed you more than words can say."

"As I missed you," Raine replied as fresh tears streaked her face. "My darling, my love."

Behind them, Adrian watched quietly, his gaze softening as a faint, bittersweet smile flickered across his lips. He glanced down, his expression shadowed with unspoken thoughts. "I'll keep watch outside," he said. "Just… don't take too long."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and slipped out, closing the door softly behind him.

Godric's smile faltered as his eyes traced the fresh bruises marring her face and body. His jaw tightened, his anger reigniting. "What have they done to you?" he growled, his fists clenching. "Volg… I'll tear that bastard apart limb by limb if it's the last thing I do."

Raine shook her head gently, her wolfen tail wagging faintly behind her. "I don't care about any of that, my love. You're here, and that's all that matters." She paused, her expression shifting as a thought struck her. "Godric… did you—did you challenge Volg to a duel? For me?"

He cupped her face in his hands, his touch soft despite the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Yes, my love," he said firmly. "Don't worry. You'll be free soon."

"Godric…" Raine's ears drooped. "You can't. The cost is too high, and I can't bear to see you lose. My heart couldn't survive it." Her fingers brushed over the blackened steel of the collar encircling her neck. "I'm not worth it. I love you, but I won't watch you share my fate. I won't let you throw your life away for me."

His brows furrowed, her words striking a chord of disbelief. "What are you talking about, Raine?" he asked. "Listen to me. I chose this. I did it for you—for us. I won't let Volg send you to the Mills. I'd rather die than let that happen."

"No, Godric," Raine said, her golden eyes wide with desperation. "You need to go. Tell this… Congregation. Tell them you withdraw." She bit her bottom lip, as if the next words were tearing her apart. "You need to let me go. You need to forget me."

Godric's crimson eyes widened in shock. His jaw slackened, his throat tight, but no words came.

Raine sniffled, her tears falling freely now, dripping onto the cold stone floor. "Volg is right," she whispered. "I'm just a filthy little slave. If the Mills are my fate, then so be it. I'd endure anything this world could throw at me—no matter how long, no matter how painful—if it meant you'd be safe."

Godric turned away briefly, his gaze dropping as her words sank in. When he looked back at her, his expression had softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"But, my darling…" he said gently, cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands. His thumb brushed her cheek, wiping away the dampness. "Could you truly love a man who would turn his back on you to save himself?"

Raine looked up at him, her eyes soft as they held each other close, neither willing to let go.

"I promise you, Raine, I won't lose," Godric said. "I'll win. I'll get you back, and I'll free you." He gazed into her golden eyes; his determination unwavering. "And when this is all over, we'll take a ride on one of those airships. Anywhere you want to go. Just say the word."

A small, tearful smile broke across her face as she wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers. "I… I'd like that very much, Godric."

He smiled softly, leaning in to kiss her once more, their lips meeting in a tender, lingering embrace. As their fingers intertwined, the cold, oppressive walls of the cell seemed to dissolve, leaving only the warmth of their connection. In that fleeting moment, he clung to the wish that time would stop, that this fragile piece of eternity could be theirs forever.

The door creaked open, breaking the spell. Adrian stepped in briskly, his gaze darting between them. "I hate to break this up, but we have to go," he said to Godric, urgency in his tone. "There's no telling what they'll do if they catch us here."

Godric nodded reluctantly, his hands resting on Raine's shoulders as if anchoring himself to the moment. His thumbs brushed gently against her skin, memorizing the feel of her, as if it might be the last time. "I love you, Raine," he said. "I'll end this. You have my word."

Slowly, he released her, his movements heavy with reluctance. He turned and strode toward the door, his steps firm despite the weight of the promise he carried. Adrian lingered a moment longer, his gaze flicking to Raine's tear-streaked face before he followed Godric, shutting the door behind them with a soft click.

Alone once more, Raine gripped the cold steel bars of her cell, the unyielding metal biting into her palms. Her body trembled as she pressed her forehead against the bars, tears streaming down her cheeks. She closed her eyes tightly, as if to block out the pain clawing at her chest.

"I love you, my brave lion," she whispered. "With all my heart."