The Chronicles of Blood and Fire (HP Fanfic)

The last term of Caelum's first year resumed with the sort of quiet that felt… too quiet.

No more vampire hunts. No more secret excursions into the Forbidden Forest. No ancient stones whispering blood-drenched memories into his mind. Just classes, corridors, and the slow shift from chill spring winds to the mild warmth of early summer.

But something had changed.

Caelum could feel it in his magic—particularly in the fire.

The Luxardent that once flickered erratically in his palm now moved with a strange elegance, a disciplined flicker that obeyed not only his will, but his emotion. It burned hotter when he was angry, danced with more clarity when he was focused. It had become an extension of his breath.

Even the professors noticed. Professor Flitwick had praised his charmwork's precision. Professor Sprout had commended his wandless use of root-binding hexes in Herbology. And Snape… well, Snape didn't praise—but he had nodded, which was something.

And yet, in the quiet of his dormitory or when walking alone on the castle grounds, Caelum felt it again—the subtle, creeping discomfort. Not in his body. In his thirst.

The blood elixirs—discreetly delivered to him by Amelia every week—had always been enough. A single vial, taken in the early morning, quelled the whisper of hunger within him. But ever since returning from the sanctuary… that whisper had grown louder.

He hadn't said anything. Not to Amelia. Not to Madam Pomfrey. But the dark thought lingered, quietly fraying the edges of his focus.

What if this isn't enough anymore?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of raised voices.

"Oi, no way in hell McGonagall's giving you an 'E' in Transfiguration," Bastian was saying, lounging across a study bench in the common room, legs dangling off the side.

Evran replied dryly, "I'm more worried about Potions. What if Snape gives me 'D,' I'll have to fake my own death and transfer to Beauxbatons."

"D's for daring," Bastian said confidently, throwing a crumpled parchment at him.

Caelum smiled faintly, the normalcy of it oddly grounding.

Their final exams were over. Results would be posted next week. Then the Hogwarts Express would carry them back to the outside world, where holiday plans—however mundane or magical—waited for most of them.

Bastian was already talking about visiting his grandfather's summer estate in Ireland.

Evran was debating whether to take the Knight Bus alone to visit his cousins in Wales.

Caelum didn't say anything.

His thoughts had drifted again—to the scheduled visit with Amelia. The papers had come through. At the end of term, he would be permitted to visit Adrian Rosier in Azkaban.

They told the world the Rosier heir had gone mad—that he'd snapped under the weight of a disgraced family name.

But Caelum knew better now.

He knew Adrian hadn't acted alone.

He'd been following orders

He knew they were watching. Hunting.

And Adrian might be the only one left who knows why.

There was no telling what he would find there. No telling what Amelia was walking into, either.

But if there were more pieces of the puzzle hidden behind those prison walls—then he would find them.

He had to.

Because whatever peace Hogwarts gave him… it was only temporary.

And he could feel it—like thunder rumbling beneath his skin.

Something was coming.

The last days at Hogwarts passed in a blur.

A strange tension hung in the halls, not heavy like it had been after the duels and danger of winter, but light, nervous—like static before a coming storm. Students whispered predictions over House standings and final marks, crammed last-minute sweets into trunks, and dashed down corridors with half-fastened cloaks and unlabelled owl cages.

For Caelum, there was no such frenzy.

He had packed the night before with quiet efficiency. He triple-checked his potion case, tucked away his wand holster, and sealed the blood elixirs Amelia had prepared in a rune-locked pouch. He even made sure the emergency talisman stick Vesper gave him was secure.

And now, he sat alone in a train compartment, forehead leaning against the glass as the Hogwarts Express whistled its long, familiar cry.

He watched as the towers of the castle slowly disappeared behind the hills.

The Hogwarts Express rattled and hummed on its track, cutting through green hills under a bright summer sky. Caelum sat in a window seat, staring out in thought.

The exam results had been released just before departure.

Bastian had passed—just barely. His Charms and Defense marks were solid, but Potions had nearly sunk him. "Mum's going to murder me," he had sighed. "Or worse, enroll me in summer brewing school."

Evran, surprisingly, had ranked in the top quarter of their year. Quiet, thoughtful, and meticulous—his efforts had paid off.

Vesper, cool as ever, had placed fifth overall.

And Caelum?

He had placed first in the year.

Not that he had aimed for it—it simply happened. With his professors quietly giving him advanced assignments and his late-night study sessions, he'd scored Outstanding in every subject. Even Snape had left a grudging note: "Acceptable progress. Do not become arrogant."

Back in the Great Hall, Ravenclaws had stared at him in disbelief.

Some clutched their scrolls with slack jaws. Others exchanged horrified whispers. One second-year declared loudly that a "first-year Slytherin topping our year was a disgrace to academic tradition!"

The glowering stares that followed weren't malicious—just dramatic, theatrical expressions of defeat.

Caelum, naturally, found it all a bit amusing.

Now, as the train sped south, the noise and chaos around him felt distant. Laughter from the next compartment. A cat yowling. Someone running down the aisle.

Summer has come.

He leaned back in the seat, resting his head against the padded cushion, letting his eyes close.

But not for long.

The whistle blew again—long and low—and the train began to slow.

He opened his eyes to see the familiar arch of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters coming into view through the smoky glass.

And there—standing just beyond the barrier, wearing her usual crisp coat and sharp gaze—was Amelia Bones.

She spotted him before the train even stopped, raising a hand in quiet greeting. Caelum stood, grabbed his trunk handle, and took one last glance back toward the window, where Hogwarts now lived only in reflection.

The journey was done.

And another one was about to begin.

Because this summer, he wasn't just going home.

He was going to Azkaban.

And there, in the heart of the wizarding world's darkest prison, the truth of his bloodline waited to be unearthed.