𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝘂𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻

Chapter 14: Blood and Motive

The wounds were healing, slowly.

The potion Narcissa had prepared shimmered gold in the vial, viscous and warm. Vivienne drank it without hesitation, even as it burned its way down her throat like liquid iron.

She sat on the edge of the bed in the old manor's guest room, her wand across her lap, her hair damp from the fever that had finally broken. Outside the windows, rain struck the stone rhythmically.

The door creaked open.

"You're awake," Narcissa said, stepping inside, arms crossed tightly against her chest.

"Barely," Vivienne replied, voice low. "But enough."

Narcissa closed the door behind her. She didn't sit. Her eyes gleamed like polished glass — cold, unreadable.

"You should know," she said calmly, "I'm a skilled Legilimens."

Vivienne blinked. "That supposed to frighten me?"

"No," Narcissa said. "But it does mean I know exactly what you've been doing."

Vivienne didn't flinch. "Then you know why."

Narcissa's voice sharpened. "You're using her."

"I'm giving her a choice," Vivienne corrected, too calmly. "The same choice she gave me — only mine doesn't involve murder and devotion to a half-dead madman."

Narcissa's lip curled. "You're manipulating her—luring her out like an animal. That's not a choice."

"No," Vivienne snapped. "It's justice."

The room fell silent, the air tense.

"She loved you," Narcissa said finally, her voice brittle. "In her way."

Vivienne's laugh was hollow. "If that was love, I'll take hatred any day."

"She's not like you," Narcissa hissed. "You don't know what it meant for her to feel anything for a Muggle-born—"

"She made me believe I was hers," Vivienne cut in. "And then she buried me alive under her loyalty to Voldemort."

Her eyes gleamed now — not with tears, but fury.

"You think I'm cruel? You think I'm playing a game?" She stood. "Your sister used me until I was inconvenient, then tossed me into the dark like a broken wand."

Narcissa's voice faltered. "And yet here you are. Still chasing her."

"No," Vivienne said softly. "I'm not chasing her anymore. I'm hunting the piece of her that might still be real. And if I don't find it—if it's already gone—then I'll finish what this war won't."

A long silence.

Then Narcissa stepped closer.

"I hate what you're doing," she said coldly. "But I hate what she's become more."

Vivienne looked up.

"So you'll help me."

Narcissa nodded once. "We'll find a way to speak to her without Him tracing it."

"And how do we do that?" Vivienne asked.

"There are rituals," Narcissa said. "Old ones. Forbidden ones. They don't use direct magical signatures — just blood and memory."

Vivienne's eyes narrowed. "Dark magic?"

"No," Narcissa said. "Ancient magic."

A beat passed. Then:

"When do we begin?"

Narcissa smiled thinly. "Tonight."

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