Lucius Malfoy's grand manor was no sanctuary anymore.The once proud heir of pureblood supremacy now staggered through the halls like a man half-drowned in shadows — eyes glassy, hands trembling.The chaos of recent days gnawed at his mind.
He had forgotten.
Forgotten his potions, his supplements — his lifeline to magic.Without them, even the simplest charms faltered.His wand felt foreign in his hand, his spells weak and flickering like dying embers.
The cruelty he once wielded with ease was slipping through his fingers.
Meanwhile, deep beneath the Ministry's cold stone chambers, the third trial of Severus Snape dragged on.The room was a battlefield of whispered accusations and desperate defenses.Severus stood like a statue — cold, unmoving, a man trying to keep the storm inside from breaking free.
The Wizengamot's decision was looming — Azkaban or freedom?
But the court wasn't only judging a man.They were judging what he represented: a Beta bound in a world of Alphas and Omegas, a broken pawn in the dark game between Voldemort and the Order.
At Hogwarts, Lillian moved with lethal grace —his mind sharper than ever, weaving a plan that would shake the very foundations of wizarding society.He didn't love Severus.He had never loved him.But control?That was a hunger deeper than blood magic.
The heatbond, the magical chains—these were tools for a larger purpose.
Lillian's eyes glinted as he whispered to himself, "The puppetmaster's greatest trick… is convincing the world he cares."
High above all, in his tower wrapped in star-silver shadows, Dumbledore watched.The chessboard was nearly set.
"Lucius falters," he murmured, eyes cold as the night."A broken Malfoy is a dangerous one — but a predictable one."His lips twitched into a faint smile.
"Snape's fate is still undecided. And Lillian… oh, Lillian. So close to losing control."
Back in the manor's dim corridors, Lucius's steps faltered.He caught himself on a pillar, breath ragged, skin pale.
The magic inside him felt like a dying flame — flickering, unsteady.His mind, once razor sharp, was clouded with fear and confusion.
He muttered, "I can't lose him. Not like this."
And far below, in the cold of Azkaban's prison cells, Severus clenched his fists.The chains might be gone.But the shackles of doubt and betrayal remained tight.
He whispered to the darkness, "I will not be broken."