The Chronicles of Blood and Fire (HP Fanfic)

The plan had been set in whispers.

Tonight, the Circle moved.

Not in theory. Not in preparation. In truth.

The east wing of Greystone was known as the Medical Block—sterile, quiet, and heavily warded. But beneath it lay something else, something the staff never spoke of. A sub-basement. No map, no registry, and yet Caelum had seen staff disappear into it after hours, unmarked keys vanishing into hidden panels.

Julian had procured the map—lifted from an unguarded office file during a fire drill.

Mara had suppressed the detection wards with a delicate charm—her magic subtle and emotional, weaving confusion into the surveillance nodes.

And it was Caelum who led the way, invisible under disillusionment, guiding them down.

The basement door opened with a soft hiss of stale, cold air.

Below, the truth waited.

…

They passed two locked doors before they reached it.

The third door bore no label. Only a black metal plate embedded into the stone—no handle, just runes. Caelum stepped forward and pressed a finger to the plate. His fire flickered beneath his skin, subtle but potent, slipping through the magic like smoke through a keyhole.

The runes blinked once—then faded.

The door opened inward.

The Circle slipped inside.

And what they saw stopped them cold.

…

The chamber was not a medical facility.

It was a holding block.

Five magical containment cells, rune-carved and enchanted. One was still active, glowing sickly yellow. Inside it, slumped against the wall, unconscious but breathing—

Lina.

Mara rushed forward, fingers pressed to the edge of the containment field.

"She's alive," she whispered. "Barely."

Talwyn knelt to examine the field's glyphs. "It's a stasis lock. They weren't healing her. They were preserving her."

Julian turned to the desk at the far wall—a long black table covered in folders, ledgers, and vials labeled with initials and codes.

He opened one.

His breath caught.

"Look at this."

They gathered around him.

Patient File: G-146

Name: L. Avenleigh

Status: Flagged – Protocol Thorne

Magical instability high. Potential for outside use.

Transfer recommended for private research under indirect contract.

Final clearance by GH Operations Director. No family claim. File closed.

The next file was worse.

G-113 – R. Mecklen – missing, assumed escaped.

G-104 – N. Fenrey – "terminated in transit."

Caelum scanned the pages silently—until his hand froze.

It was a transfer summary form. Routine. Administrative.

But one line stood out.

Supervising Evaluation Officer: Rosier, A.

The handwriting was formal. The ink, black Ministry standard.

Rosier.

Caelum remembered him.

Adrian Rosier, The visitor who smiled too much. Who asked leading questions. Who talked about "compliance" and "potential."

He hadn't stayed long. Just long enough to observe. To plant the Ministry's eyes on Caelum.

Now here he was again. Not as an observer.

As a handler.

A dealer.

A name stamped across at least four transfers, including Lina's:

G-120 – Transfer cleared.G-099 – Research redirection approved.G-088 – Deceased en route.

So Rosier plays both sides, Caelum thought. He smiles at children by day and sells them by night.

He slid the form into his inner shirt pocket.

He had a name now. A real one.

A target.

…

"We need to get her out," Mara said.

Caelum's voice was quiet but razor-sharp. "We do more than that."

He looked at the ledger.

"We bring this to light."

They disabled the stasis field and lifted Lina's unconscious form between them.

Somewhere above, a pulse began to thrum—deep and low.

An alarm. Not blaring. But alert.

They had minutes.

But now, they had proof.

And that made them dangerous.