Lady Magic’s Interference

“Are you sure we won’t die from this?” 

Maribella stares at the redhead with an incredulous look on her face, “I’m sorry?” She snaps and Ronald ends up being smacked sideways by an annoyed Hermione. 

“Honestly Ronald. We’re trying to break into Malfoy Manor to kill off our twentieth horcrux. If we don’t end up dying I’d be surprised.” She grumbles, hands crossed tightly around her midsection. Her normally bright brown eyes were just as haunted as the rest of theirs were. Her usual curls were in such disarray, Maribella was getting flashbacks from first year. 

“I think I’ll ask aunt Death for a bloodprice when I die,” She blows some stray hairs away from her sweaty forehead. She was crouched on the ground, staring at their pathetic excuse for a map on the dirt of the forest floor. They’d been in this forest for three weeks, simply planning and replanning their attempt to destroy one of the many Horcruxes they knew had been recreated in an attempt for a barely alive man to remain breathing. 

“And it’s actually the twenty-first horcrux Hermione,” Harry smirks, his avada green eyes dull with exhaustion. There was a hint of humour in them though, one that made the rest of his best friends snicker at. 

“Really Mione, you’re falling behind,” Ron grins and the tense atmosphere that was surrounding their tight group dissipates just like that. Hermione’s face grows red in anger, grabbing a handful of dirt to stuff in the redhead’s face.

“RONALD!” She screeches and it forces laughs out of the three of them; Harry leaning on his godsister, tears of mirth and hysteria leaking from his eyes. 

Maribella smiles softly, it was a pained little thing… one that brought out the holographic cracks in her purple eyes. McKinnon’s were known to have violet eyes, it was a hereditary thing. Their eyes grew lighter the more powerful they were and Harry had never seen eyes as light as his sister’s.

“You think this might be our last job?” She asks quietly to the group, her eyes trained on the half-baked plan they had spent days trying to perfect. It was a lackluster plan… more of a suicide plan if Maribella was being honest. 

“Oh yeah,” Ron snorts, “We are going to get bloody blown up,” He grins in mirth, finding the whole thing funny. 

Harry and Hermione snort and Maribella lets out a wet laugh, “At least we are all dying holy virgins,” Maribella makes a trinity cross and Harry cackles, shoving her sideways. 

“Let off,” He snickers, “Mother Magic would have an aneurism if you ever did that in front of her,” 

“Maybe I wouldn’t do that if our beloved mother would ANSWER OUR QUESTIONS!” She yells up at the sky. They all pause for a second, waiting for the classic gold shimmering that always accompanied Maribella’s mother’s assistance. 

“We are so screwed,” She flops to the forest floor with a sigh. 

“Lady Magic wouldn’t let you and Harry die though.” Hermione says thoughtfully, “One because you are her heir of course,” She nods at the brunette girl, who sticks her tongue out in disgust at the phrase. “And two because you’d literally kill her if something happened to your brother,” Hermione says a-matter-of-factly. 

“Can’t do that if she dies from a Fiendfyre blast now can she?” Ronald offers, always the bearer of good news. 

“Harry I told you, you should’ve told Charlie how you feel,” Maribella ignores Ronald solely for the reason of making Harry blush. 

“Yeah mate, maybe then one of us would’ve gotten laid,” Ron flops down over Maribella and the girl coughs out a lung as a result. 

“Get off me you pig,” She grunts, trying to kick him and epically failing. He rolls off her with a loud cackle.

Hermione rolls her eyes, her hands twitching slightly as she moves towards her notes, reviewing the ritual Lady Magic had hinted at to them. The Torvak invasion had been nothing short of an actual disaster. All of wizardkind was in peril now. After Voldemort had been vanquished at the Battle of Hogwarts, it hadn’t taken the maniac long at all to somehow regenerate like some zombie. 

The man looked much more feral than he had been. Tom Riddle had become no more. Any humane features Voldemort had carried were wiped out the second he had come back to life. They had been facing the actual Voldemort for a couple months now.

The idiot had decided that six horcruxes were not enough anymore- well seven considering they all consensually agreed to having missed one, due to Voldemort’s untimely come back.

The four of them along with the rest of their friends and allies had destroyed what amounted to twenty-one horcruxes. Maribella’s absolute limit had been when Voldemort had split the sliver of soul he had left into a bloody leaf. 

She wasn’t the only one who had lost it then. 

She knew how Voldemort had returned. Hermione and Ron suspected as well. Their suspicions were further cemented by Snape, who had in so many words told them that their beloved friend was housing a portion of the Dark Lord’s soul. 

Maribella hadn’t regretted punching the bastard for his misplaced bloody protection that had traumatised her godbrother. Her dad certainly would have cheered her on. 

Maribella suspected Harry knew the truth, or at least could sense something was amiss. But she, Hermione and Ron had all agreed that this was not worth it, if Harry didn’t come through this alive.

Ever since they had figured out that brutal truth, her mother had stopped answering her pleas for help. 

It made sense after all. Maribella was the daughter of a deity, created from the very tendrils of Lady Magic’s soul. She’d been given to her mum; Marlene Mckinnon, who had carried her to term via a scandalous dalliance with one Sirius Black. 

And Harry? Harry was Fate’s favourite chew toy -as he liked to jokingly call himself. He had a prophecy written about him and Voldemort and prophecies were Fate’s domain. Any attempt to intervene with Fate was forbidden. Deities rarely liked to piss other deities off because that ended with centuries worth of headaches. 

However Maribella would at least like her mother to show up. She would adore giving the woman and her aunt Fate a piece of her mind. 

On second thought, perhaps that was why her mother decided on a no-show. Maribella would probably cause a feud with Fate on her own.

“Any luck?” Ron questions the genius brunette, who looked just as gutted as she always was whenever she decided to take a look at the centuries old ritual Maribella’s mother deemed them fit enough to attempt. 

Hermione wails in anger, twitching hands going to grip at her hair. Crutiatus exposure was a serious pain in the ass sometimes. The four of them had at least some experience with fighting off all three of the Unforgivables. It just turned out that repeated exposure to the torture curse had disgusting side-effects they should have expected. Maribella’s hands were so nerve-damaged she couldn’t really hold her wand properly anymore. She didn’t even want to bring up Harry’s hands. 

Or the scars…

Those were hard pills to swallow. The light faded lines along their arms or the jagged knife wounds covering their bodies because Torvaks didn’t just use magic to fight oh no- they used blades and knives and bloody daggers. They had armour and they loved taking wizard-born by surprise and just stabbing them through with blades so long, bodies would dangle. 

They learned the hard way that magic wasn’t enough, not anymore at least.

Voldemort had bargained with the Torvak, knowing good and well that they required the blood of very powerful dragel-born in order for them to enter Nevarah to lay siege to the homelands. 

That had been a rude awakening, realising that not only was Harry, Ron and Maribella dragels but that their inheritances had been sealed away. 

The seals had only cracked when Dumbledore had let loose a spell in Hogwarts. It was the year of the triwizard tournament and the old coot decided that Harry needed more tests he had to be manipulated into. 

Hundreds of students had been claimed by creature inheritances as a result of the old man’s interferences. 

“Hermione…” Maribella says gently, knowing eyes on her best friend. Hermione grits her teeth, shaking her head. 

“No Mari… We agreed all of us would come through this alive or no one at all.” She snaps, sounding and looking like a wounded, cornered animal. 

“It's the only way!” Maribella demands, “It would fix all of our issues. Excalibur is a soul made blade! It would kill off Voldemort and all his little trinkets instantly. It would end the war.” She says like she had memorised the words. 

The ritual required a powerful wizard to enact it and to end it. One needed enough magical power to start the ritual and then to end it safely enough to survive. Everyone here knew that Harry was powerful. He had a bloody prophecy written about his magical prowess.

But they knew Maribella was stronger. She was the daughter of Magic herself. Her very blood was so magically powered it shimmered if you looked close enough. No. Maribella was the one who would start and close the ritual. It was on her.

And they knew that. 

There was a brief silence before Maribella sighs, “Mione…. You know by now that’s it’s either going to have to be us or the rest of the wizarding world.” She says firmly, “And I’d rather it be me who is killed rather than hundreds of underage wixen barely able to fight back.” 

“There’s a chance she’ll survive,” Ron says softly, his jaw as tightly wound as Harry’s and Hermione’s were.

“It’s a high chance too guys. I’m pretty strong,” Maribella forces a smile on her lips to ease her companions’ fears.

Harry clenches his jaw, his hand snapping out to grab her own. “I don’t want to live in a world without you.” He turns to stare at Ron and Hermione, “Without any of you.” 

Ron’s hands shake slightly as he fists them at his sides. “Well good thing all of us are heading towards a suicide mission so we can all go out with a big bang.” 

Hermione scowls at him, her fingers crinkling the edges of the parchment in her hands as if she wanted nothing more than to shred it to tiny pieces. “We won’t die,” She pauses to blink and then frowns, “…hopefully,”

“HA! That’s so reassuring.” Maribella snickers out.

“At least we have permission to blow up Malfoy’s house this time.” Harry grumbles making Hermione roll her eyes. 

“You didn’t have to blow it up last time,” She scolds lightly but her lips were twitching upwards as all three of them whirled on Maribella with matching grins.

The girl scowls, arms crossed defensively, “Should’ve just killed them all in one go I swear.” She grumbles and Harry laughs.

“There… there, then you wouldn’t have Narcissa to talk to when you want to discuss the newest fashion trends.” Ronald snickers out, flicking his hair away from his eyes. They were a hue darker than usual. It was something that occurred lately when he was emotional. His normally bright hazel eyes would simmer down to the colour of the darkest coffee beans. 

“Hilarious….” Maribella drawls, “I’ll let my fellow Blacks know you were insulting one of their daughters,” She grins ferally, causing Harry to snort. 

“You made me heir of the damned house idiot,” He chortles out, green eyes lightening slightly with the lighter conversation. 

“Oh shite. I did do that, didn’t I?” She beams unapologetically, causing them all to burst out laughing. 

It was a while later before anyone dares bring up the topic looming over their shoulders. 

“Did you send out the message?” 

Hermione glances up at the expression on her oldest friends’ faces before sighing quietly. It was time she supposed. She was the first of the four to stand and they all followed up after her, expressions grim. “I sent it out an hour ago. The Resistance is aware of our next move.” She answers Harry’s previous question. 

“Neville is going to flip his shite,” Maribella mutters under her breath. 

“Pfft, Neville? Luna is going to want to kill someone, not to mention Susan and the twins.” Ron grumbles out, crossing his arms defensively. 

“God I wanted to end this war and go to Nevarah,” Maribella crouches in disdain, hands gripping her hair in anger. 

“That was our plan, yeah.” Harry seemed as saddened as she was. 

“We should’ve noticed something was wrong when none of us got our mentors.” Maribella grumbles before standing up to lean on one of the trees behind her. 

“Yes, well at least the three of you have a choice in your respective mates and circles. I am branded!” Hermione’s outrage on this subject was very common and very much shared between the four of them. 

“Think you can call over your Hellhound paramour to help us in this realm then Mione?” Ron beams before ending up smacked in the face. Hermione had indeed, never ever seen or heard of the Hellhound responsible for branding her as one of his mates without receiving her consent. She was pissed about the whole thing- rightfully so- and would be giving the person a piece of her mind when they finally deemed her important enough to show up. 

“Mother Magic called you the Hellhound’s consort when you asked,” Harry muses, “You’d think a consort would be important enough to be checked on once in a while especially since that mark transfers your physically state and health over to your mate,” 

Hermione scowls, “They aren’t my mate! They didn’t even ask!” She demands and Maribella shrugs. 

“You read what the inheritance book said Mione. The mark wouldn’t take if your weren’t meant to be together.” 

Hermione blinks, a wave of sorrow and despair crashing over her shoulders and causing her to slump. “They would have come by now if they cared,” She whispers and they all knew what she was talking about. All eyes flickered inconspicuously to her left arm. The one torn up and carved into like she was cattle for slaughter. 

“Should’ve just killed them all in one go I swear.” Maribella repeats in a snarl and Hermione snorts. 

“Please channel all that rage towards the Malfoy manor,” She directs her to the house like a tour guide and the brunette scrunches her forehead in distaste. 

“Just don’t Fiendfyre the whole place with us still inside,” Ron smacks Mari’s shoulder, grinning wickedly. “I almost lost an arm last time,” 

The gentle atmosphere goes terse as they find themselves all lined up, shoulders tense and jaws clenched. 

“Ready?” Harry grits out and they all nod in unison. 

“Ready,” Hermione, Ron and Maribella demand at once. And three of the four apparate out of existence, leaving the biggest and baddest of the four in direct line of the Malfoy entrance. 

“I’m going to have nightmares of snake-face again I just know it,” Maribella scowls before she was pushing her way through the trees and towards the house, eyes ablaze with the magic that was her birthright. 

The wand in her hands was more of a comfort than a necessity. And she demonstrates this by effectively sending wave after wave of magic at the centuries old wards surrounding the manor. 

She didn’t really need spells to be honest -just like how Harry and Ron stopped needing spells after their inheritances. Only she never needed them in the first place. Magic was all about intent and as the Lefay heir magic would always heed to her commands. 

Every blast of raw magic energy from her fingertips caused explosions that shook the earth beneath her feet. Sure the Malfoys were on their side now -mostly all wizardkind was fighting back against the Torvaks and Voldemort. The only ones that stayed by Voldemort’s side were the deranged and the blackmailed. Case in point Belletrix Lestrange. The current madwoman screaming profanities at her from behind the safety of her pathetic lord’s mansion. 

“YOU FILTHY HALFBREED!” She was squawking which was stupid considering she was the daughter of Marlene Mckinnon and Sirius Black, two very well known purebloods. But who was she to comment on the ramblings of a psychotic person. 

“Incoming bitch,” Maribella scowls and rears up her arm like she was throwing a baseball -only it wasn’t a baseball…. It was the equivalent of a nuclear bomb….

She couldn’t help the feral grin on her face when she sees the panic in the eyes of her father’s murderer. 

She was a Black after all.

Harry was pretty sure he was going to murder his godsister if they managed to survive this. The earth was quacking under his feet and every time his deranged sister sent another bomb at the wards of the most noble and ancient house of Malfoy, he’d end up stumbling and falling face first. 

Maribella wasn’t one of the most powerful wixen alive for laughs and giggles after all. She was going to utterly desolate this manor. And considering the four of them had hefty grudges against this place, Harry was certain this whole land was coming out scorched by the end of the night. 

It was his responsibility to grab the horcrux -whatever it was this time- and destroy it. The Resistance had gotten scarily proficient at casting the Fiendfyre curse. It was a notorious spell used only to destroy, burn and lay ruin to anything it touched. It took a powerful wizard and a controlled one to be able to cast it and wield it properly. 

Any wixen who wanted to fight against the Torvak army and Voldemort was required to learn the spell. As a result Britain had become somewhat of a wasteland. Their homebase was at Hogwarts, with reinforced wards and security around the clock. 

Harry had somehow become the face of the Resistance and the leader all in one. It wasn’t something he had ever wanted but now he had Teddy and Maribella to think of- his family. And he’d be damned if he died and left them all alone. 

It only took Mari three minutes to take the ancient wards down. Harry couldn’t help but grin at the expression Lucius would surely have if they ever mentioned that to him. 

He slipped into the manor, through the fallen protective barriers like they were butter. It didn’t take him long at all to hear the nails-on-a-chalkboard screeching of the horcrux. The items seemed to scream louder the more they killed off and the more Tom Riddle made in his attempts to stay immortal. 

Harry’s favourite horcrux adventure had to be the time Luna had informed them of a lone rock at the bottom of the ocean. 

It had taken days for Mari’s bloodlust to die down after that revelation. 

They’d been standing on a beach in front of a large mass of salt water and Hermione, Ron and himself all had turned to Mari with matching looks. 

“I’m NOT BLOODY MOSES!” She’d screamed before parting the ocean in half and cursing Voldemort out the entire bloody time it took to reach the pebble horcrux. Ron had taken to calling her Moses every time she annoyed him. It had been the highlight of Harry’s year. 

Harry reached the location where the screeching was the loudest and he blinks because he couldn’t see anything around him. Crouching down, he stares deadpanned at the lone piece of hair on the grass. He couldn’t help the utter groan of exhaustion that comes out. It barely takes a second before he’s lighting the bastardly thing on fire, the shrieking coming from it reaching a climax before everything was lovely and silent again. 

“I think I hate Fate,” He grumbles, watching silently as a bunch of Torvak began to race towards him. He knew if his pseudo father, Arthur Weasley hadn’t been a Torvak, he’d have probably despised the creatures until his last breath. As it was, Harry simply turned on his heel and ran the hell away. 

Harry couldn’t help the adrenaline filled laugh he lets out at the sudden fireworks that erupt overhead on the far east side of the manor. 

Ron was coming.

Hermione sometimes wondered what the heck she was doing with her life. It was an existential crisis you see. And she was having one right now. 

She shoved handful after handful of priceless dark, light and grey magical books into one of the many expandable bags she held on her person. Being back in this haunted house caused chills to creep up on her spine and the words in her left arm to burn with residual memories of pain and tortured screams. 

It was her job to save anything that could be saved. Books, clothes, money. All stuff the Resistance needed with a passion. And Harry, Ron and Maribella couldn’t scorch the place down without Hermione emptying the Malfoy coffers. 

She wondered what would have happened if she had simply ignored that bloody letter when she was eleven. It certainly would have made things a whole lot easier. But then she wouldn’t have her three idiots and that was a very hard pill to swallow. Hermione could hear the utter wreck Mari was pulling on the Torvak and the remaining death eaters, still loyal to Voldemort. 

Sometimes Hermione got jealous of the magical capabilities Mari and Harry seemed to have. And then she remembered all the baggage that came with said power and was perfectly fine being slightly above average thankyouverymuch. 

It took Hermione less than five minutes -with the help of magic and luck- to trap everything in her bag before she was signalling to Ronald from her position. The coin in between her fingers flipped once, the message engraving itself on the back and being sent to her friend within seconds. 

 D O N E 

The coin heated up a second later and she looked down at her coin only to scoff out a laugh. 

L E T   T H E M   B U R N

Hermione rolls her eyes slightly and heaves up the wad of fireworks the twins had gifted them for this occasion only. 

“Let them burn indeed,” She giggles and then starts to run, whipping around and casting a curse at the bundle. “FIENDFYRE!” 

The entire hall is alight in flames and she casts another spell at the roof, “BOMBARDA MAXIMA!” 

And the Malfoy manor was no more. 

It was rather therapeutic if she had to say so herself. 

A spell of white and red slashes by Harry’s face and the Torvak who had been gaining speed on him was now a harmless doll. 

Harry loved Ron sometimes. He was the ying to his yang and had the darkest sense of humour he had ever seen in someone. 

Ron was also king at transfiguration magicks. His magic was so precise, it sometimes cut without him meaning it to. 

Hence his proficiency in one of the hardest magic disciplines in the world. Mcgonagall had been so proud. 

“Got the goods?” Harry pants out when the redhead started to run by his side.

Ron sent him a mischievous grin and then picked up the pace, running even faster than the chickens behind him. Harry simply laughed. 

Maribella was bombarded with curls and a wave of Fiendfyre that was catching up to her very, very quickly. 

“You make fun of me for misusing these bloody flames and you DO THE SAME THING!” Mari screeches ducking to the side when a flaming eagle decides her ear looked nice enough to eat. 

“It was THERAPY!” Hermione yells back, dodging in much the same manner the other girl was. The Torvak she had been fighting had mysteriously evaporated the second Hermione came barreling out of the house like a wrecking ball. 

“WE ALL NEED THERAPY!” Maribella screams. 

“Hurry up! We need to put the Fiendfyre wards up!” Hermione ignores Mari’s predicament, who simply deadpans at her which was very impressive considering they were running for their lives again. 

“Custodire ab flammis maledicti,” Mari started to mutter under her breath, repeating the spell over and over again. It was weird how the girl used spells sometimes and at other times not. Mari told her it was a case of habit. Case being in point- how she never bloody used her own wand because it was too time consuming. 

Hermione usually agreed with the voice in her head about hitting the girl after one of those comments. She joined in with her best friend, muttering the spell and a second ward shot up right after Mari’s own.

They flung themselves over the wardline with a heaving desperate exhaustion that neither of them appreciated very much. The girls flopped on the ground breathing harshly and trying to recover from the magical exhaustion of putting up a wardline given to them by Lady Magic herself.  

“I’m pissed the Bellabitch got away,” Mari scowls instantly and Hermione snickers.

“I like that name. I’m going to use it.”

“Feel free,” She grumbles, heaving herself up. Her clothes were grass stained heavily and dirt patches marred the sides of her jeans and the palms of her hands. 

It took barely a minute later for Harry and Ronald to come barreling through the wardline like a pair of gorillas. Hermione and Maribella didn’t wait for the pair to fall on them before they jumped to their feet in a rare expression of self-preservation. 

“I want to sleep for a week,” Ron groans, spitting up grass from where he and Harry had jumbled up together in a fit of exhaustion. 

“Get the horcrux?” Mari asks, plopping back to the floor.

“It was a strand of hair, guys. I don't know how much more of this I can take,” Harry grumbles and there was silence. 

“Wish I could say I was surprised,” Ron grumbles, “After the pebble that our dear ol’-”

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Mari screeches and bodyslams into the redhead who screams in horror before groaning in pain. 

“DEAR OL’ MOSES HERE CAUGHT!”

“RONALD WEASLEY!” She screams and Hermione and Harry share amused glances with one another.

“Well Harry got the horcrux, I got the goods and Mari was on distraction mode. Ron, you get the papers?” Hermione asks, eyes worried. Ron sits up, shoving Mari to the side to pull out the papers he had stolen from Voldemort’s study. They’d been incredibly lucky that Voldemort and the Torvak leader hadn’t been in the house when they had struck. They had planned for this of course, but plans had a way of screwing you sometimes.

“List of all the horcruxes he made- least the dumbass forget where he placed his own soul.” Ron places the sheet on the ground and then looks much more serious. 

“And a detailed map of where their next targets are and their plan for the ritual.” Ron looked up at Mari and Harry.

“It’s our blood they need isn’t it?” Harry winces and Ron nods. 

“Yeah Mari was right. So the ritual you guys did to curse your own blood probably saved the entirety of Nevarah and screwed earth.” Ron tells them.

“If they can’t have Nevarah, they’re going to stay here until they can. And that means hundreds of Torvak portalling in.” Ron hands out the papers he’d already read and memorised.

“It’s Voldemort who summoned the leader here,” Hermione points out, her voice soft . 

Maribella sighs, a gentle, strained smile on her lips “And the Torvak leader can’t stay here without an anchor.”  

“And without the Torvak leader…. He can’t summon more Torvak to Earth,” Harry’s jaw was strained and his hands were in fists. 

Ron looked at his own fists in his lap before turning to stare into his best friend’s eyes. He was asking her to die, to risk sacrificing her own magic and dying to save this world.

“We need Excalibur Mari,” Ron says gently and she smiles at him. Ron realises that lately her smiles have always been sad and the ache in his chest intensifies. This girl was like his sister in everything but blood. And even then Hermione had joined the four of them in an ancient practice as siblings-in-arms. 

Her eyes were exhausted, just like the rest of them were. But there was a bone-deep exhaustion that her and Harry just seemed to share. It worried him sometimes. 

“Then Excalibur you shall get,” Maribella announces and just like that she signs her own death with her own oath.