Chapter 527: Sirius Black vs. Lucius Malfoy
“Let go of me! Let go of me!” Bobby Suarez screamed in terror.
Below, the masked wizards laughed with malice. “You really want us to let go?”
The man, upside down and spinning wildly, felt his fear spiral as the ground receded farther and farther. Panic overwhelmed him—he wet himself, then his stomach churned violently, and he vomited mid-air.
The sight of his flustered state sent the masked wizards into fits of laughter. Some twisted Suarez into grotesque shapes with magic. Others lit nearby tents ablaze, while a few unleashed a piercing green beam of light, illuminating the entire clearing.
Ordinary wizards nearby shrieked and scrambled to escape. Sirius Black’s fury ignited. He immediately shifted back to human form, drawing his wand to intervene—when suddenly, a voice boomed through the darkness:
“Now!”
A low, resonant voice split the night. Instantly, beams of magical light erupted from every direction. Members of the Phoenix Society and Aurors materialized from thin air, surrounding the masked attackers in a tight circle.
“Petrificus Totalus!”
“Stupefy!”
“Expelliarmus!”
Several masked wizards froze in place, collapsing. Others lost their wands, which flew into their comrades’ faces. Seeing this, the remaining attackers turned and fled.
“It’s a trap!” someone inside screamed, voice cracking with panic. He tried to Apparate—spun in place three times—but stumbled, disoriented, and fell, only to be trampled by his own allies.
No one had noticed, but the area was already laced with a wide-reaching Anti-Apparition Curse. Escape was impossible.
Without the masked wizards’ control, Suarez plummeted toward the ground—only to slow abruptly just before impact. A silvery beam of light caught him mid-fall, guiding him safely to the earth.
Following the light, they saw Dumbledore’s towering silhouette. The old man’s cold, furious expression sent chills through every soul present.
“Avada Kedavra!”
One masked wizard unleashed a desperate counterattack. Dumbledore raised his wand—then, the burning tent beside him suddenly unfurled like a giant shield, blocking the Killing Curse. It exploded into ash.
“Stupefy!”
“Cruciatus Curse!”
Sirius Black leapt into the fray, joining the battle. Spells streaked across the clearing. The masked wizards fled while firing back. One Phoenix Society member was hit by the Cruciatus Curse, collapsing to the ground with a bloodcurdling scream.
“Enough!” Dumbledore thundered. With a sweep of his wand, an invisible force suppressed every last resistance. The battlefield fell silent.
“Thank you, Dumbledore,” Kingsley said, wiping blood from his face. He strode forward. “You’re under arrest. Spend the rest of your lives in Azkaban.”
He reached for the frontmost masked wizard—then paused, studying his companions. Grove Crabbe froze, eyes widening as Kingsley’s hand drew near. Instinctively, he turned his pleading gaze toward Lucius Malfoy.
Kingsley followed his line of sight. When he glimpsed a faint shimmer of light beneath the hood—golden strands of hair—his eyes flickered.
He hadn’t even pulled off the mask, but Kingsley already knew.
“Looks like we caught a big one,” Kingsley said coldly. “Even Imperius won’t save you this time.”
Without hesitation, he let go of Grove Crabbe and charged toward Lucius Malfoy.
Just then, a terrified scream split the air from afar.
Kingsley spun, alert. A man burst from behind a tent, screaming, stumbled, and scrambled away on hands and feet.
“Run! Run!” he cried. “The Boggart’s gone mad!”
“What?” Arthur Weasley grabbed him, demanding answers. In the next instant, dozens of Boggarts erupted from the tents—now enormous, their eyes blood-red, fangs bared. Their lanterns, now as large as clubs, swung wildly, smashing into people.
The frenzied Boggarts didn’t target anyone in particular. Some slashed Phoenix Society members’ legs with clawed hands. Others clamped onto Death Eaters and bit their ears. Most simply seized their victims and hurled them into the air.
Though many Phoenix Society members could defend themselves, most wizards—especially those separated from their parents—had no idea how to fight back. They only screamed and fled.
“Save them!” Remus Lupin shouted. With a flick of his wand, a red beam shot out, knocking a Boggart aside and rescuing a sobbing child.
Dumbledore had to release his suppression spell. He raised his wand, and a blinding flash of light erupted from the camp’s center.
“Go!” Lucius Malfoy roared. The group surged forward, breaking through the encirclement and scattering in all directions.
Meanwhile, screams echoed throughout the camp. Everywhere, Boggarts attacked with wild abandon.
Lucius Malfoy sprinted through the tents, heart pounding. After passing several, he thought he’d cleared the Anti-Apparition Curse’s range. He prepared to Disapparate—when suddenly, a chill shot down his spine. He dropped low, rolling aside.
A spell whistled past his head, obliterating a pillar in a thunderous explosion.
“Don’t think you can run!” Sirius Black’s voice erupted from behind, a crimson beam lancing from his wand.
Malfoy cursed under his breath. Without looking back, he threw up a Shield Charm—then bolted faster than before.
He couldn’t afford to be captured like this. But if he could shake Sirius Black, he could discard his mask and cloak, blend in with the ordinary crowd. Even Dumbledore couldn’t charge him without proof.
Yet Sirius Black pursued like a true guard dog, relentless. Spells rained from behind. Then—suddenly—a blade of invisible force tore through the air, slicing deep into Malfoy’s shoulder.
He screamed in agony, nearly falling. Clutching his wound, he ran, feeling the footsteps behind him drawing ever closer. Every hair on his back stood on end.
Then—suddenly—Malfoy saw two Ministry Aurors struggling with a Boggart. He acted fast. With a sharp gesture, he pointed to his throat, then spoke in a voice utterly unlike his own:
“Help! Someone inside wants to kill me!”
Behind him, Sirius Black roared in fury.
But the Aurors, confused by the scene—two men chasing each other through the camp—didn’t hesitate. One aimed his wand at Sirius Black.
“Expelliarmus!”
Sirius Black rolled aside with lightning reflexes. The red beam grazed his hair, striking a tree with a crack. Malfoy seized the moment, leaping over a pile of firewood and fleeing.
Sirius Black glared at the Auror who’d attacked him. “You idiot! That man’s a Death Eater!”
“What?” The young Auror froze, stunned.
Sirius had no time to explain. He vaulted over the man and resumed the chase. His gray eyes burned with dangerous, unwavering fire—enough to make the young Auror shrink back.
Two figures streaked into the forest beside the camp. Spells flew, sparks erupted, cloaks flapped wildly in the cold wind.
“I know it’s you, Malfoy!” Sirius Black snarled. “This time, you won’t escape!”
Malfoy gritted his teeth, silent. He threw a Cruciatus Curse behind him, then staggered behind a tree, his wound burning, breath ragged beneath his mask.
Sirius Black gripped his wand, then slashed it forward. A burst of flame ignited the bushes and dry branches nearby, forcing Malfoy out of cover.
Just as Sirius lunged—another spell struck him from behind.
He stared, stunned, at the figure ahead. His mouth opened—then nothing. His body shrank instantly, collapsing into a pile of discarded cloak.
Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, eyes wide.
Before he could react, a squirrel shot out from under the cloak, darting like lightning up a tree, leaping from branch to branch—gone in an instant.
(End of Chapter)
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