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HP: Bloodraven Chapter 172 - Crossroads of Power (V)
🕑 Added 2025-05-26 13:15:15 +0000 UTCThe room was quiet, the kind of stillness that comes when people are hoping for something to change. Soft lights glowed from the ceiling, gently illuminating two older women lying motionless on separate beds, each with a simple monitoring setup positioned near the head.
Charles Xavier, seated in his wheelchair, leaned forward with his fingers gently pressed to the temple of one of the women, whose chest barely rose with each breath. His eyes were closed, and the index and middle fingers of his other hand rested against his own temple, forming the connection.
Maverick stood a step behind him, with Logan and Ororo on either side. On the other side of the bed were the woman’s son and her granddaughter, and all of them waited patiently for Professor X to make his comment.
It has been three days since the X-Men arrived.
Maverick spaced them straight from the Xavier Mansion into the treatment room where the two patients were, and Professor Xavier was just as swift. He wasted no time, slipping into the minds of the two women one after the other, carefully examining their condition. His diagnosis came quickly—and to everyone’s relief, it carried the promise of recovery.
What was even more incredible was Xavier saying he could finish treating both women in under a week. Maverick had no doubt about the telepath's abilities or his confidence, but that kind of speed was far beyond what he had expected.
Then again, it was likely that his own efforts—stabilizing their minds and patching up the worst of the damage—had laid the groundwork and made Xavier’s job easier.
Still, completing the entire treatment in just a few days was something Maverick couldn’t manage with magic alone. It just went to show that while magic was powerful and flexible, it wasn’t always the ultimate solution. Whether it was a wizard’s spell or a mutant’s gift, each had its strengths—and its limits.
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Xavier slowly drew his hand back from the patient’s temple. He opened his eyes, looking thoughtful for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully.
“I believe that should be enough,” he said at last. “The last fragments of their memories are patched. They shouldn’t have any more trouble with amnesia now.”
Irene, the woman’s granddaughter, broke into sobs almost the moment Xavier gave his conclusion. Her father looked just as emotional, his eyes glossy, but he managed to hold himself together. He gave Xavier a sincere, grateful nod for his work.
“Well then... let’s wake them both,” Maverick said with a satisfied sigh, hope rising in his chest. The treatment was finally done. The woman who had suffered from recurring amnesia had been the easier one to stabilize, but Maverick had kept her in a coma until Bridget Keena—the more serious case—was also fully treated.
A few drops of a special potion and a quick spell later, the two women finally opened their eyes. As expected, their first reaction was panic. Sometimes, remembering everything at once can be just as traumatic as forgetting, hence, why the potion had been necessary.
It allowed them to regain awareness of their surroundings while keeping most of their physical functions subdued. That had been Professor Xavier’s suggestion, and Maverick was glad he had listened.
It took hours to calm them down. Only after they had been gently brought up to date on what had happened were they given full control of their bodies again. When it finally sank in that they were truly safe and healed, the relief on their faces said more than words ever could.
At last, they were able to tell their story—what really happened during their encounter with Lockhart and how they had ended up as victims. Hearing it in their own words, with the emotion behind each memory, was different from simply viewing the memories directly. It was a level of realism that magic simply could not achieve.
Finally, both women agreed to testify in court. They didn’t ask for anything, nor did they set any conditions. Having been pulled back from the brink of mental death, they felt a debt they could never fully repay. Whatever Maverick asked, they agreed without hesitation. And even if he hadn’t made a request, there was no way they would have let Lockhart walk free so easily.
Lockhart’s trial was still more than a month away, but Maverick’s direct involvement in the case was now over. From this point on, everything that came next—the trial, coordination with the Ministry, all of it—would be handled by Greengrass. And naturally, he would get the credit as well.
The noise surrounding this case, if Greengrass played it right, could launch him several levels up the British magical political ladder—which, from start to finish, had been the real objective of this entire operation.
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Professor X and his team did not return to America just right after their task was completed. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to experience an entirely new world, so when Maverick asked them when they would like to be sent back, they asked instead to see the magical world with their own eyes.
Maverick saw no reason to say no. He agreed gladly, even stepping in as their personal guide. For two days, he gave them a crash course in magical Britain, starting with the beating heart of it all—Diagon Alley. Just like Muggle-born students on their very first visit, he led them through the Leaky Cauldron and into a world where every brick whispered magic.
Naturally, a man in a wheelchair gliding through the crowded streets drew a few raised eyebrows, but with Maverick by his side, no one caused a reaction.
Logan took it all more or less as expected, like a man who had seen just about everything. Ororo, on the other hand, reacted quite naturally—and by naturally, that meant she drifted from shop to shop with wide eyes and barely contained excitement, like a child stepping into a theme park for the first time. It was hard to blame her—this was a whole new world for her.
She bought—or rather, Maverick bought her—all sorts of magical items along the way, while Professor X practically cleared out Flourish and Blotts of every book related to magical history and the legal system.
Ororo even insisted on buying a wand for herself—just to have one—but Maverick firmly talked her out of it. What he was doing already, by bringing them into the magical world, was skirting the edge of what the International Confederation of Wizards would tolerate.
“Magical law forbids it,” he explained. “Even souvenirs have their limits.”
After that, he took them to Hogwarts. He wanted them to see where young Jean would be studying next year and to get a feel for the place.
Dumbledore was away, unfortunately, wrapped up in some ICW business or other, but Professor McGonagall stepped in without missing a beat. She received them with her signature poise, all crisp robes and sharp eyes, and answered every one of Xavier’s questions with the quiet confidence of someone who had been holding the school together for decades.
“Rest assured, Professor Xavier,” she said confidently. “Hogwarts stands among the finest and safest magical schools in the world. Your student will be in good hands here.”
Xavier nodded, a gentle smile crossing his face. “That means a great deal to me, Headmistress. Knowing Jean will be guided by such capable hands puts my mind at ease.”
As they strolled through the ancient corridors, Xavier and McGonagall carried on their conversation up ahead, while Maverick, Logan, and Ororo followed a few steps behind.
Maverick kept silent when McGonagall praised Hogwarts as the safest school in the world. He knew better... it's not.
Despite its rich history and countless achievements, even with two Archmages and two Greatmages on staff, the school could not be considered the safest magical institution in the world—at least in Maverick’s opinion.
For one, there was a damn curse on the place that somehow prevented any Defense Against the Dark Arts professor from lasting more than a year. And that was not even counting the string of bizarre, suspiciously timed incidents that seemed to happen like clockwork every single year.
It's hardly a secret—everyone in wizarding Britain knows about it, but no one seems to be bothered. And true, it’s... a safe school. The kids learn their spells, sit their exams, and graduate like at every other school.
As the saying goes: if it is not broken, do not bother fixing it.
“It’s incredible,” Ororo said, looking down over the Quidditch pitch and the Forbidden Forest, their treetops dusted with a soft blanket of snow. “A hidden society with structure, education, order... Do you think, Caesar, that mutants will ever be able to live so freely?”
Maverick heard the longing in her voice. He couldn’t blame her. After all, she and her kind had faced nothing but hunting and discrimination their whole lives.
And it wasn’t like magicals lived completely free either. They were, in their own way, like birds in a cage—free to move but never truly free to soar. But there was no need for Ororo to know all that.
“I wish I had a clear answer, Ms. Ororo… but in my view, your numbers are too few to sustain a system like this one. Unless every mutant stands under the same banner, with shared purpose and vision, the freedom you’re hoping for will stay out of reach.”
Ororo and Logan kept their heads down, and neither seemed to have an argument. Maverick wasn’t trying to be harsh. He was being honest—it was the truth as he saw it.
“What you need is leadership,” he said after a quiet moment. “Someone strong enough to earn respect, and wise enough to wield power without letting it consume them. Even then… that’s only the beginning.”
“And what comes after that?” Logan asked, arching a brow.
“Establishing order,” Maverick said simply. “Without a system to maintain, there can be no progress.”
The two mutants didn’t argue. Instead, they shared a sigh of quiet understanding.
“I believe that day will come,” Xavier called from behind. “These past few days have opened my eyes to many things—chief among them, hope.”
Their tour briefly turned into an unexpected philosophical debate, with even Professor McGonagall offering her thoughts now and then. In the end, there was no clear right or wrong—perhaps everyone had a point, or perhaps no one did.
The final stop on their itinerary was a lavish early dinner, specially prepared by the school’s house-elves. After that, their tour of magical Britain came to a close.
Maverick brought them back the same way they had arrived. Before parting, they exchanged ways to stay in touch. Maverick promised that the X-Men could count on him as an ally whenever needed—and Professor Xavier, in turn, made it clear the feeling was mutual.
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December melted away in a whirl of snow and cheer, and the new year arrived with fireworks, resolutions, and the quiet promise of fresh beginnings. Nineteen ninety-three had begun.
Maverick returned to Hogwarts in the fading light of the first week of January, after spending the holidays with his family. The term would officially begin in the third week, but before that, there was just one last thing he wanted to take care of.
The source of the trouble.
A creature whispered about in legend, said to have once belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself.
A monster older than the castle walls.
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Author's Note:
Does it feel rushed? I felt like this arc was dragging on a bit too long... apologies for that. The next chapter kicks off the second term, and the pacing will pick up from there.
As for the system updates... they’ll be addressed with the next replication of the Extraordinary Characteristic. I already have one in mind, but feel free to share your thoughts. I might just change my mind. 😊
Thank you all for your continued support!
