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HP: Bloodraven Chapter 244 - Unexpected Guest from the Stars (VII)
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 20:32:21 +0000 UTCAuthor’s note:
Three chapters up—enjoy, guys!
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Slurrrrp.
The sound was out of place in the heavy silence of Maria Rambeau’s living room. Isabella leaned against the wall near the window, sipping juice through a straw from a bottle she had scavenged from the fridge without anyone noticing.
Maverick was close by as well, but his attention seemed fixed on something other than the memories being recalled in the room at that moment. Isabella didn’t even bother to ask—her fiancé often drifted off, absentmindedly thinking of Merlin-knows-what.
Of course, as far as Maria Rambeau was concerned, only Fury and Danvers were there with her, and no one else. Maverick and Isabella, as agreed earlier, remained invisible to everyone except Fury and Danvers, and carried on pretending they weren’t there. Like background characters, the two had lingered nearby after landing—from Danvers’s first reunion with Maria and her daughter, all the way to being invited inside and listening to her story presently.
“Come look…”
Monica Rambeau’s small voice, carrying just enough excitement, made everyone turn their heads. She came rushing down the stairs, both arms wrapped around a dented metal box, and set it carefully on the table in the middle of the living room.
Fury was the first to wander closer, curiously, then Maria and Danvers followed, their conversation already slipping into an awkward pause, and both of them looked almost relieved for the interruption.
“Since you said you don’t remember anything, Auntie Carol,” Monica said, pulling out a stack of photos, “I thought it’d be a good idea to show you some… with me, Mom, and you. We even have some of you from when you were little.”
Having said that, she held one up with a grin. “This is me and you on Halloween…” Then, picking up another, softly added, “And this one… this one’s you with your dad. Mom told me you didn’t get along much with your family. So… we became your real family.”
One after another, Monica laid the pictures out like treasures. “This is us on Christmas… and this one’s from the summer picnic…”
Danvers stared absentmindedly at the snapshots, listening to Monica’s recollections, each one a fragment of a life she couldn’t remember—fragments full of laughter, warmth, and a sense of belonging that felt unmistakably real. Even though she still couldn’t place the moments, the feelings in the pictures hit her hard, and a smile tugged at her lips before she even noticed it.
Even Fury, staring at the pictures while the girl recounted the memories tied to each one, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Danvers. To have once had a life and not remember it… that must hurt like hell. And with that, he also cleared the last bit of doubt in his mind about Danvers being an alien.
Yes, until now, Fury hadn’t completely ruled out Danvers being an Earthling, no matter how many coincidences seemed to point to it. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be Nick Fury. But now, looking at Monica—that innocent, adorable girl—how could anyone possibly lie with such a straightforward, cute face?
So the real question now, he pondered, was… how did she end up mixed in with some intergalactic, alien empire?
Hmm?... From the corner of his eye, he then saw one of their invisible guests, Caesar, turn around with a thoughtful expression and walk to the window. Curious, he also excused himself, walked over, and whispered, “What? Did your tingly magic detect something?”
Maverick raised an eyebrow and, without turning, responded, “What tingly magic, Agent? Is that a thing your Shield records about my kind?”
Fury shrugged.
“I’m just admiring the weather,” Maverick remarked thoughtfully, a slight gleam in his eyes. Then, turning to Isabella and signaling her with a thought, he looked at Fury and said, “Anyway, I’ll be out for a bit.”
“Out—?”
Woosh!
But before he could ask, Maverick had disappeared from the spot, startling the crap out of him.
“This mother f—”
“—Fury?”
Danvers called at that moment, making him turn around—and fortunately, forcing him to hold back cursing aloud.
“It’s nothing…” he said with a resigned sigh. He glanced at Isabella, and seeing she wasn’t bothered by Maverick no longer being there, he brushed the rude bastard from his mind and turned to the owner of the residence. All that running around back at the Pegasus base, being scared to death by some magical monster bird, and finally flying all the way here had left him famished.
“I’m a bit hungry, Ms. Maria. I don’t mean to be rude, but…”
---
Half an hour later...
Maverick had been wandering the Rambeau property, admiring the little private propeller plane parked in her garage, when his magical sense suddenly flared—alerting him to a group of uninvited guests sneaking onto the property.
He smiled knowingly, understanding exactly who they were, and watched things play out.
It was Talos, the Skrull leader, along with his grunts. They were disguised as random humans, of course, and what gave them away to Maverick was the conversation they were having with one another. It was the plan they were going to carry out, and to Maverick, it frankly wasn’t even a plan—more like a bet.
Soon, he saw one—Talos himself—enter the house, while the other had changed appearance again and was heading toward young Monica Rambeau, who was now outside, playing alone near the small attic at the edge of the property yard.
His eyes narrowed, and for the first time, his magical sense thoroughly scanned a life that wasn’t native to planet Earth, searching for anything unusual. The outward appearance looked flawless, perhaps even on par with someone under a Polyjuice potion, but... that was all.
His magical sense could clearly distinguish that this wasn’t Maria—or, more accurately, the feedback he was receiving told him it wasn’t human at all.
Humans—muggle or magical—have their own unique signature that magical senses can pick up, and not just humans; all creatures emit their own distinct feedback. Call it a smell or a taste—for example, a watermelon. Every watermelon tastes similar, but some are sweet and some not so much. Yet from a single bite, you can tell it’s a watermelon.
Of course, that wasn’t the limit of magical-sense reconnaissance ability. When one’s proficiency in the talent is as good as Maverick’s right now, they could even distinguish individual humans—just like how Olympe Maxime first discovered he was Bloodraven.
Back to the matter at hand, he figured, Good. At least this way, I can distinguish whether a Skrull is impersonating someone in the future.
---
Meanwhile, inside the house
Danvers, Fury, the invisible Isabella, and the real Maria were still at it, going through old photo albums, when a knock at the main door interrupted them.
“Don’t answer that,” Fury warned immediately, out of instinct, but Maria wasn’t as vigilant as he was.
“It should… just be my neighbor,” she said. “He drops by around this time quite often with his kids…”
“The Skrull, Maria—they can change into anyone,” Carol reminded her.
Maria hesitated at that, and Carol walked forward to the door, followed by Fury with his gun ready. He gave Isabella a sideways glance and a nod, signaling her to be ready as well, then, finally, Carol opened the door.
It turned out it was indeed their neighbor, apparently there to check out the jet because his kids had been asking. To his credit, the Quinjet prototype they had come with was indeed pretty cool—and likewise, an out-of-place sight to be parked in front of one’s yard. But Carol wasn’t buying it. Suspicious, she kept pressing questions one after another.
“You’re really working overtime to sell this one, aren’t you, Talos?” Her eyes narrowed dangerously, even raising her fist.
But Maria had had enough. “I’m sorry, Tom,” she intervened just in time from behind her. “But this really isn’t a good time. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay?”
“Uh…” The man still looked like he wanted to say something, but Maria had already closed the door in his face.
And just as the door clicked shut, a voice came from inside the house, startling all three of them—well, except Isabella, who was still slurping from her drink, amusingly watching.
She had seen the green-skinned alien, dressed in some weird gothic formal drip, sneak into the house from the other side, take a drink just like the one she was having, and then lean against the wall, trying to look all cool—before delivering his line.
“You know, you really should be kinder to your neighbors. You never know when you’re gonna need to borrow some sugar.”
