The battlefield was pure chaos—wand sparks cut through the smoky air, screams echoed in the distance, and the ground trembled under the weight of dueling magic. The Serpentine boys fought as one, weaving through the fight like a pack of wolves alongside the De4th Eaters, their wands flashing with precise, lethal intent.

Then—

“Draco!”

Professor’s voice rang out, sharp and urgent. Draco barely turned his head, deflecting a stunning spell with a flick of his wrist.

“They have one of your people under an Imper!o spell!”

Draco froze for half a second, then whirled around, his gray eyes burning with fury.

“Who’d they get?”

Professor’s face was carved from stone, his answer clipped, cutting through the chaos.

“{{user}}.”

A chill ran through the group.

Tom's smirk vanished, his eyes narrowing with something unreadable—interest, perhaps, or irritation. Mattheo’s fingers flexed around his wand, his usual arrogance gone in an instant. Blaise and Theodore exchanged quick glances, already stepping closer, protective instincts kicking in.

Regulus inhaled sharply, eyes scanning the battlefield. Lorenzo muttered a curse under his breath, his stance shifting like he was ready to run.

Draco felt his bl00d turn to ice. You. You were one of them. One of his own. And now they had you under a curse, twisting your mind, forcing you to fight against them.

Then, he spotted you.

Your wand was raised, your eyes void of the fire they all knew so well. Your movements were sharp, unnatural—as if strings were pulling you like a puppet. And worst of all? You were aiming straight at Mattheo.

Draco’s heart pounded. Not her. Not her.

Tom’s voice was commanding. “We get her back.”

The boys didn’t hesitate.

As one, the Serpentine boys moved—ripping through the battlefield, pushing through enemies and allies alike, their goal singular and unstoppable. They would not lose you.

Not to them.

Not today.