Hernán Aiza stalked a pace behind and to the right of Lord Malfoy. He didn't need to look to know his wife flanked the wizard on his other side. They knew better than to walk beside him. This was a wizard of dark and terrible power. It flowed at his command. Muggles believed that death rode a pale horse, but any wizard worth his salt knew that death wasn't the thing to fear. Malfoy wouldn't grant death. Death was a mercy, and Malfoy had none at the moment. The wave of magic pulsing around Lord Malfoy knocked people from his path and transformed the floor beneath them to a mirrored black finish. Any wizard with sense would flee as the dark rose up to meet the needs of a true master, but, apparently, the majority of English gentry were fools.
"This is a hospital, Lord Malfoy." One exceptionally stupid wizard tried to stand in their way.
"I'm well aware of where I am." Lucius snarled. Hounds bayed in the distance. "My family has paid for most of it. Step aside."
"You'll frighten the patients." The man groveled as he stepped slightly to the side. The hounds howled again. They were gaining fast.
"Then soothe them." The pale wizard flicked his wrist and the man was dragged from his path by the floor itself. "I am Lucius, head of the ancient and noble house of Malfoy. You have no right to gainsay me or mine in doing our duties."
The dark hounds burst through the doors behind them. They paced the halls, falling into place around them. Creatures of will and magic, they swirled as much as they stalked, black canine clouds of doom.
Hernán heard the soft prayers and the startled gasps as they continued down the hall. He pitied those that turned away. The oldest magics were not kind things. They were wild and fearsome. The people too often forgot this.
As a healer and a potioneer, he understood balance. There were no simple groups. Light and dark, good and evil, these were human constructs. Magic merely was. It transcended such narrow confines.
"We need to get Severus." Andromeda frowned and yanked at her hair. It seemed her normally wavy hair was lost in a riot of curls. This was no time for it to act up. "He's at the Prince Demesne. He wanted to open it before the wedding."
"I need to get to the hospital." Narcissa paced in the small room. "Would you collect him? I'll take Teddy with me. If this is some larger plot against our House, he will be safest with all of us about."
"Lucius is probably needing a steady hand about now." Andromeda licked her lips. "I do hope they let him dispense the punishment. He was always so creative."
"If Hermione can not be saved, it won't be one punishment." Narcissa grabbed a bag of toys for Teddy. "He will call the hunt and let loose the Unseelie on this plane once more."
"Goddess above." Andromeda clutched at her chest. "With Severus at his side and Draco standing for Hermione, they could level England."
"Get Teddy." Narcissa glanced at the door. "It just occurred to me that the elves will be preparing for war. I'll have to have Lucius summon them. Left to their own devices, they might kill off everyone before we get any amusement from it."
Andromeda moved out of the room. Her body itched with the urge to let magic fly. It was like bees were moving beneath her skin. She dragged in a breath and forced herself to focus. It would be far too easy to follow this urge into madness.
Kreacher felt the call. He felt it and ran towards the tapestry. He'd put it in the little cupboard he occupied at Hogwarts. It was not a good place. It was not his place. He was meant to serve the House of Black, but Potter had forced him out. Potter had sent him to serve at the school, and his new Lady had only just called.
He grabbed the tapestry, and the magic whirled through him. Vitality, life, magic, all of it flowed into him with the demand. He was Kreacher of the House of Black, last descendent of Fryct.
His Lady called in her time of need, and he would answer. He roared his anguish and pain out into the night. There would be no mercy for those that would harm his House.
He clutched the tapestry to his chest and yanked the iron blade from deep in his nest.
"You go back to your family?" Frilly peaked at him from around the door.
"I go." Kreacher stood as tall as his kind could. "I needs to protect them."
"I help." Frilly stepped toward him and raised a small weapon made from an iron nail. "I call your House mine?"
"Will you fight?" Kreacher stared into the smaller elf's eyes. "I go to fight. I not lose my Lady. I not lose my House. Will you cut the magics from those what brings harm to family?"
"I wills." Frilly stood as tall as her little body would allow. "I remembers when we chooses the wizards and helped drive the dark ones back. I will chooses your House. I watches over them even when I's is no more. I wills."
She bent her head and Kreacher bit her ear. He felt her devotion and her honesty as her blood joined his. She would bring strength to his House. Fryct's blood would not die with him. The House of Black would see generations of loyal elves from her. He released her ear and grabbed her hand. They left the sorrow and shame of Hogwarts behind with an audible pop.
Draco blocked the healer from his sister's bed. The Weasel was trussed up in the corner. His tearful apologies were beyond annoying, and the scent of his desperation hung in the air. Potter and Astoria were standing behind him, warding the room against any and all threats. He needed to be free to defend his sister.
"This is the course of treatment. You are not a healer. Step aside." The wizard stood before him, paunchy and bored. "I am the healer."
"So you've said." Draco crossed his arms over his chest. "You haven't made any attempt to examine my sister, so, forgive me, but how can you possibly have devised a course of treatment?"
"She's been poisoned. A general antidote will set most everything right." The wizard rolled his eyes. "It's not as if some society darling will be running about dealing with curses and more esoteric magics."
"Do you even know her name?" Astoria all but growled at the man. Draco smirked as his beloved surged to the fore. "She is Hermione, Matriarch of the House of Black."
"I don't care if she's Moganna, back from the dead." The healer rolled his eyes. "I have other things to do then cater to some spoiled witch with no sense."
Hounds bayed, and Draco felt a feral grin form on his face. The man was a fool. His father wouldn't suffer him for long.
"You all need to step back and let me do my job." He took a step into the room and then was flung from it in a flash of light as two elves popped into the space between them.
Draco watched as the elves snarled and brandished small weapons.
"Kreacher." Harry moved toward the larger of the two. "Why aren't you at Hogwarts?"
"Kreacher serves the House of Black." The elf glared up at Potter. "No more harm comings to my Lady from bad wizard's potions this night."
"We serves the House of Black." The smaller elf raised a dagger made from a nail. "We answers the call. I kills them that hurts my Lady."
"Blood, but not my House." The larger elf pointed at him. "Makes the Potter's Weasley bes quiet."
Draco blinked at the larger elf. He couldn't recall an elf giving him an order before, but he didn't have a problem obeying this particular command. Flicking his wand, he relaxed at the sudden reduction in noise.
Draco looked down and saw the floor turning into black marble. He glanced over at Astoria as the smaller elf snarled at the collapsed healer. He was pretty sure things were not looking up any time soon.
Severus pushed back the darkness from his mind. He knew Hermione had been harmed, knew it for fact. He took a deep breath and felt the very ground beneath him rise. He closed his eyes and felt the hum of his magic as it flowed through him and into the land only to return to him with more power.
A familiar presence approached. He could feel the magic in the being. Its thrum was somehow sweeter than the deep flow of the land. He took another deep breath and let this magic join him as well. His awareness stretched farther than it ever had before. He could feel the life force in everything around him. There was beauty in it.
Part of him wanted to revel in this moment, but he didn't have the time. He remembered those horrible days after Lily when he'd chased oblivion down many dark paths. He remembered the rage that had coiled inside him. He let those memories free. All the secret parts of his own power, of his mind and soul, joined the howling cacophony of his heart.
He could feel her presence. Hermione. He pushed up from the ground and gathered the ferocity of purpose close to him. He would not lose his witch to the hands of a fickle fate. Magic crackled around him in deep green sparks. The scent of roaring bonfires swirled out from him. It was his destiny to stand between the living and the dead.
"You is the Prince." Pippy approached him with wide eyes. His other elves flanked her. "You is the Prince now. They says it happens. They promises. Now, we fights besides you. We defends our House."