Chapter 50: Aftermath and Attitude
Elian returned to Hogwarts long after curfew. The castle was silent, the usual night-time whispers stifled by the day's terror. The Gryffindor common room was empty, the fire reduced to embers. An eerie quiet had fallen over the whole school.
While students tried to sleep, the heads of house were locked in urgent meetings with Professor Dumbledore, who had returned swiftly. News of the Dark Mark over Hogsmeade had spread like fiendfyre. A single, terrifying question echoed in every dormitory: if Death Eaters could strike Hogsmeade, was Hogwarts itself safe?
And at the center of the rumors was Elian Throne. The "older freshman" found at the scene. Professor Trelawney's dramatic prophecy from weeks before was dredged up and whispered with new urgency. The school buzzed with fearful speculation.
Immediate changes followed. All future Hogsmeade weekends were cancelled indefinitely. Student movement was restricted; leaving the castle now required special permission. The castle felt like a fortress under siege.
For Elian, there was only a brief, stern message from Professor McGonagall: the Headmaster would speak with him when time allowed. Until then, he was to attend his classes and say nothing. The tension in the halls was palpable.
Far away, in the gloom of Malfoy Manor, a very different meeting was taking place.
The long table in the great hall was lined with black-robed figures. At its head sat Lord Voldemort, his red eyes gleaming in the candlelight. Lucius Malfoy stood before him, pale and trembling, his wife Narcissa a silent, terrified statue beside him.
The mission had been a catastrophic failure. Five Death Eaters dead. The target, unharmed. And Lucius had fled.
The air was thick with dread, broken only by the dry, slithering sound of Nagini coiling across the stone floor. The great snake lifted its head, tasting the fear in the room, its gaze fixed on Lucius's throat.
Voldemort rose slowly, his voice a whisper that filled the hall. "My dear Lucius... you failed to capture a mere student."
Lucius fell into a deep bow, cold sweat beading on his forehead. "My Lord! I returned to bring you news! The boy... he is not normal. He is dangerous!"
He spoke in a frantic rush. "He can fly! Without a broom! He created clones—perfect copies! He blocked spells with shields of light he conjured from nothing! He never even drew his wand!"
A murmur of disbelief and scorn rippled through the Death Eaters.
"Lies!" one spat. "Only the Dark Lord commands such flight! You invent stories to save your skin!"
"Pathetic cowardice!"
"Punish the traitor!"
Voldemort watched Lucius writhe, his head tilted in cold curiosity. "You claim this... child... rivals Dumbledore's power?"
"I swear it, my Lord!" Lucius pleaded, his voice breaking. "I saw it! I only escaped to warn you! That knowledge is worth more than my death!"
For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, Voldemort let out a high, cold laugh that made every Death Eater flinch.
"Ahhh... Dear Lucius. So dramatic." He paced closer, his bone-white hand coming to rest on Lucius's trembling shoulder. "You have always been one of my most... prudent followers. Perhaps this new Child of Prophecy is indeed a surprise. A weapon Dumbledore has kept hidden. Harry Potter... and now this Elian Throne."
He patted Lucius's shoulder, a grotesque gesture of false comfort. "Sit. Your information has value."
Weak with relief, Lucius collapsed into his seat. Narcissa gripped his hand under the table, her face as white as chalk.
Voldemort turned his gaze to the rest of his followers. "It seems the game grows more interesting. We must accelerate our plans. Azkaban's guests have waited too long for their liberation."
With a final, unreadable glance at the cowering Lucius, the Dark Lord swept from the hall, Nagini at his heels.
As the other Death Eaters began to disperse, one leaned close to Lucius, his voice a venomous whisper.
"Best you sit out the Azkaban raid, Lucius. We wouldn't want you to be the first to run... again."
(End of Chapter)
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