The Dawn of Darkness || T. Riddle

Chapter 45: Blood Magic

Chapter 45: Blood Magic

Wind howled along the cliffside and icy rain swirled behind. What little semblance of May's warmth had begun to douse over England was nowhere to be found on the little island of Hoy.

Rosier's head hung low, the collar of his coat upturned against the climate - despite the weather-resistant charm protecting him from the rain - the cold still bit. He rubbed his palms together, blowing breaths of warm air into his hands to stop them from stinging. He tried his best to close his ears to the harsh raven song and the wild rumbles of thunder that sounded across the rough sea, but they seemed to be amplified by the vast openness of the island.

He'd always found this place to be ominous, ever since he was a boy. He remembered back to the sleepless nights in the eerily cold rooms, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and the idle splashes that would sometimes reach the windows on the really bad days.

He looked up, squinting through the rain, and his hazel-green eyes found the dark silhouette of Rosier Manor. Though the storms and the cold may have haunted him as a child - they brought him a strange solace in his adulthood. He could understand why tales had circulated about his home, though.

The local muggles were adamant the place was haunted. It had become somewhat of a local legend over the years - with muggle tour guides boasting to those from far and wide that a vengeful widow stalked the halls of Rosier Manor, enchanting the senses of anyone who dared enter and eventually forcing them off the towering cliffs, down into the turbulent sea, once she'd grown bored of them.

Lightning split the grey sky in two for a second. The gates of the Manor swung open without challenge at Rosier's approach - a noble coat of arms halving as they broke apart - rose torn from stem.

The grand Manor came into full view now. Firestone lanterns shone upon the gables despite the rain. He could just make out the blurred silhouettes of two figures standing beside the front door awaiting his arrival.

He sighed, taking in his family home in its entirety. He wondered how long it would remain standing in the wars to come. He wondered whether he could keep it intact, or whether he would be the one to see it crumble. He suddenly comprehended the stress that Malfoy had been under the past few years.

He had called upon his family Matrons and nurses to come to the Manor at once. He had told them to be ready for his fellow Death Eaters' return from wherever they were. He flinched at the thought of what state they may be in when he saw them next. He dreaded who may not be in their midst during their next meeting.

He instinctively touched a few of the phials in his satchel, the glass freezing on his fingers. Potions. And plenty of them. From dittany to healing potions, tonics made to mend bones and cure even the harshest of wounds. Not to mention some strange looking potions he'd never heard of that he'd thrown into the mix for good measure.

Rosier had taken them from the Potions Chamber at Malfoy Manor before he left. Crafted by Alden Viridian himself before his capture. Rosier just hoped he wouldn't have to use Viridian's potions on him anytime soon. Or any of the other Death Eaters for that matter.

He tried his best to keep his faith. Even when things were at their most perilous, he put his trust in his leader and his friends. If he failed to do that, he may as well give up hope this very second. Though a single thought lingered - one he couldn't get rid of no matter how hard he tried: that in all trust, there was the possibility for betrayal.

Whispers of what may be going on beyond this island of rock and sea swirled before his vision. He wasn't sure whether it was his mind or the fog playing tricks on him, but images of the Death Eaters kept flashing before his eyes.