When Blood Comes Calling

The Hunt is a foot

Christmas had finally come, a time twinkling with warmth and cheer, two weeks after the shocking reveal that swept through the corridors like wildfire. Damian's mind wandered back to the frazzled, confused student who had stared blankly after the chaotic breakfast fiasco. He could still hear the hushed whispers that rippled through the crowd, each one adding to the growing unease. The students who had interacted and shared laughter with Marcus and Hadrian were left flabbergasted, their faces a mix of disbelief and dread, as they glanced at the front page of the Daily Prophet. The stark headline screamed at them, branding their friends as the notorious assassins known as the Jokers, the words echoing ominously in their minds like the tolling of a distant bell.

The fragrant notes of the freshly baked bread enveloped Damian as he ascended the stairs, creating a comforting warmth in his chest. The sweet scent mingled with the crisp freshness of pine needles, painting a picture of a cozy, inviting home. Delicate lilac aroma from Aries' locket added a touch of mystery, as if an otherworldly presence lingered nearby. The mirror's reflection captured the room's inviting glow, it was one of the few gifts unmarked that showed up for Damian and Aries.

Up in his room the sunlight streaming through Damian's window danced on the paper, making the markings on the map seem to come alive. The pins appeared like tiny glimmers of promise against the backdrop of the aged parchment. Damian could almost feel the anticipation building in the air, sparking his curiosity further.

His mind raced with thoughts and questions as he looked at the map. As he traced his finger over the marked locations, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was a deeper connection between them.

James, noticing his contemplative expression, approached him cautiously. "Damian, what are you thinking? You seem lost in thought," he inquired, concerned about lacing his voice.

Damian glanced up at him, a mix of determination and uncertainty in his eyes. "I can't shake the feeling that there's a pattern here. These places...they mean something dad. But what?" he pondered aloud, his voice filled with a sense of urgency.

Jame furrowed his brow, his mind already whirling with theories and possibilities. "It could be a clue, Damian. A clue leading us to something important," he suggested, his voice tinged with worry at the prospect of his eldest out there.

Just then, Lily walked over, her eyes scanning the map with interest and worry for both her sons. "What's going on, you two? Are we onto something here?" she asked, her curiosity piqued by their intense focus on the map.

Damian nodded, a spark of determination igniting within him. "I believe so, mum. There's more to these markings than meets the eye. We need to figure out what Harry is trying to tell us," he explained, his voice firm and resolute.

"Well you got mail, it was dropped off by a raven." Lily added

Eagerly, Damian lifted the letter that lay on the table, the raven's glossy feathers still shimmering in the dim light of the room. The envelope had a wax seal, intricately stamped with an emblem of a raven—a symbol that was becoming increasingly familiar and unsettling. "I wonder if it's from Hadrian or Marcus," he mused, flipping the letter in his hands as he hesitated for a moment.

James leaned closer, his breath holding a hint of anticipation. "Careful, it might contain more than just a friendly greeting. We know they're not just messing around anymore."

With a swift motion, Damian broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. His heart raced as he began to read. The letters swirled on the page, weaving a tale of caution and redemption. "They're asking for help," he stated, disbelieving in his voice. "They're saying there's something larger at play—something that involves the both of you."