Harry Potter: Bloodraven

Outside the VIP complex at Heathrow, three sleek black SUVs sat in a tight row, their police lights flashing red and blue across the quiet terminal. No sirens, no rush—just that low hum of serious business in the air.

The doors of the front and back SUVs opened first, and three men in sharp black suits stepped out from each. They moved with practiced precision, taking up positions around the middle vehicle.

One of the men from the front SUV, his face calm but alert, walked over to the middle vehicle. When he reached the door, he paused and glanced around sharply before opening it with a steady hand.

From inside, two men and a woman stepped out, exuding relaxed yet noticeable confidence. They were dressed sharply, moving with an easy assurance.

The man in front was tall and striking, wearing a black trench coat over a black suit. He had a calm, self-assured expression that subtly set the tone.

Right behind him was a younger man, equally good-looking, with slightly tousled black hair and a focused, laid-back vibe. He walked confidently in a sleek black leather jacket, zipped down to reveal a crisp white shirt underneath. His black jeans added a casual touch, and a black Louis Vuitton backpack hung effortlessly over one shoulder.

Next to the young man was a beautiful woman in smart-casual attire, blending elegance with an easy style. Her hair was neatly styled, framing her face as she exchanged a few casual words with him, her expression warm and inviting.

The men from the other SUVs stayed put, holding their ground like statues, eyes constantly scanning the area for any hint of trouble. They didn't miss a beat, covering every possible angle as the three made their way toward the gate.

Waiting for them near the entrance were two men in formal attire. One had a uniform loaded with more badges than anyone could count—clearly someone high-ranking. The other, in a sharp blue suit, stepped forward with a respectful nod.

"Good evening, Prime Minister Caesar. Ma'am. Sir," he greeted smoothly, offering his hand to Michael at the front.

Now, Maverick had tried to keep this visit under wraps, planning to go solo to avoid all the fuss. But with a dad in high places, there was no way he was slipping in without some form of an entourage. His parents, Michael and Ariel, had insisted on coming, though they'd managed to keep the scene surprisingly quiet. No flashing cameras, no crowd, just essential personnel and a tight security team—bare minimum, as "low-key" as a prime minister's family arrival could get.

Escorted through a series of doors, the family of three found themselves in a private lounge, decked out with plush furniture, bright lighting, and a massive glass window overlooking the busy runway, where planes taxied like giants in slow motion.

A spread of refreshments was already laid out, waiting for them, and the staff discreetly slipped out, and the family was left alone for some privacy.

"Make sure to call us as soon as you get to Edward's place, alright?" Ariel said, her voice carrying that unmistakable hint of mom-worry. "His family should be there to pick you up…"

Maverick chuckled, giving her a reassuring smile. "Mom, I promise. I'll call. And it's not like I'm vanishing off the face of the earth. Uncle said he'd get our place registered in the Floo Network, so I can pop by whenever!"

Michael stepped closer, putting a firm hand on Maverick's shoulder, his expression serious but warm. "Just keep your head straight, yeah? Good luck with everything. And don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

"And please visit your grandparents," Ariel added, her voice softening. "I haven't even told them you're moving to America for school. This all happened so fast…"

Maverick grinned, squeezing her hand. "I'll see them, Mom, promise. And don't worry—I've got the cover story all set." He paused, looking between them with determination. "I'll be okay. You both taught me well."

The three of them kept chatting as boarding time crept closer. His parents were dishing out their usual mix of advice and little reminders, and even though he felt a bit overwhelmed, Maverick couldn't help but appreciate every word.

Finally, when two airport staff came to escort him to the gate, Maverick gave each of them a tight hug. "I'll be fine, really. I'll call you as soon as I'm settled," he promised, one last time.

Maverick had planned to fly business class, but, of course, his mom had gone and upgraded him to first. No complaints here, though. A few hours later, he was high above the Atlantic, comfortably nestled in his seat, with London disappearing behind him and New York City up ahead.

The flight was smooth, taking off from London at 4 PM and landing at JFK around 8 PM local time. The airport was busy, but Maverick's VIP service got him through immigration like a breeze. By the time he was outside, his backpack slung over one shoulder and his suitcase in hand, it was barely 9 PM, and Edward was already there waiting.

They hopped into the car, and soon, they were cruising toward Manhattan Beach. Maverick could feel a mix of excitement and nerves brewing. New country, new school, new life.

Edward seemed to pick up on his thoughts. "I've already talked to Silvia and Bella," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "They're in on everything, and help keep your story straight."

Maverick nodded, grateful. He was lucky his dad was close friends with Edward. Without his help, establishing his wizarding identity without leaving any loose ends would have been a real nightmare.

In under an hour, they rolled up to Edward's place, and Maverick's eyes widened. High walls surrounded a massive 4,000-square-foot property, like a hidden sanctuary. As they drove through the main gate, two men in black suits nodded respectfully—security was clearly top-notch here.

Inside, the green landscape stretched out around the house. Trees lined the lawn, and a wide, grassy yard made the place feel like a tucked-away paradise. Right in the middle stood a beautiful two-story house, nestled among all that green. He felt like the place was a hidden paradise.

As the car pulled up to the grand house, Maverick spotted a beautiful woman and a girl waiting on the steps, their faces lighting up with welcoming smiles. Mother and daughter, no doubt—the resemblance was uncanny. Their expressions carried that unmistakable "we've been waiting just for you" vibe.

Maverick stepped out, feeling the familiar warmth of the Garling family already. Edward headed to the back of the car to grab his suitcase, while the woman and girl came down to meet him.

The woman enveloped him in a hug, her voice soft and warm. "It's so good to see you again, Maverick," she said. This was Silvia Garling, Edward's wife. With her easy smile, rich black hair, and effortless beauty, Maverick couldn't help but wonder if Edward might be casting a little magic to keep her looking that young—she could easily pass for someone in her late twenties, not the mother of a teenage girl.

"This must be your first time seeing our real home," she added, her smile gentle. "Here, Edward and Bella can actually be themselves."

Just then, the young girl spoke up, her voice filled with excitement. "Ricky!" she exclaimed, wrapping Maverick in a big hug.

Maverick grinned, hugging her back, his heart warming at her excitement. "Good to see you, Aunt Silvy," he said, nodding toward Silvia first. Then, pulling away from the hug, he glanced at Isabella with a smirk. "And you too, Bella..."

"Finally, I don't have to act like I don't have magic around you!" Isabella said, rolling her eyes, almost making Maverick laugh.

Maverick chuckled. "So, you were just pretending to be my friend all these years?" he teased, earning a playful jab. She was clearly relieved—finally free to be herself without the "pretend to be normal" act.

"Don't just stand there—bring him inside already!" Edward called out, flashing a grin as he hoisted Maverick's suitcase over his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. Maverick couldn't help but admire that; other wizards would've just levitated the thing, but Edward seemed to enjoy doing things with good old-fashioned muscle, more like a warrior than a typical spellcaster.

As soon as Maverick walked through the doors, he felt like he'd stepped into a whole new world. From the outside, the house looked spacious but modest, maybe 1,500 square feet. Inside? It had to be at least three times that size. The ceilings soared, with thick wooden beams crossed in intricate patterns, and massive crystal chandeliers cast a warm, soft light over everything. This was definitely an advanced Traceless Extension spell at work.

The walls were adorned with tapestries showing scenes from old battles and grand feasts, colors still vivid as if they were woven yesterday. Heavy, velvet curtains framed the tall windows, adding a royal touch. Maverick couldn't help but stare.

The living room was vast, with plush sofas arranged in a square around a polished wooden table. Straight ahead, towering bookshelves held rows upon rows of leather-bound tomes, each one brimming with history. Two sweeping staircases flanked the room, their bronze railings gleaming softly. Stone steps that looked worn but perfectly clean led up to what must be even more wonders.

Maverick looked to his right, spotting the dining room through a wide, arched doorway supported by stone pillars etched with symbols for luck and protection. To his left, a few more doors hinted at rooms he was curious to explore.

He stood there, taking it all in, awestruck. This place wasn't just a home—it was like a palace, filled with centuries-old charm and a sense of deep history. Edward's family watched him, clearly enjoying his reaction. They'd probably seen it a hundred times before, and yet, their faces were lit with anticipation.

"So…" Isabella prompted, her eyes sparkling. Her tone had a knowing ring, as if she was already sure of what he'd say.

Edward and Silvia leaned in a little, looking just as eager, waiting for Maverick's response.

Maverick exhaled slowly, giving them a grin. "It's… wow. This place is insane. I mean, I've been to Buckingham Palace, but your home definitely holds its own. And honestly? Feels a lot more welcoming here."

Isabella's grin widened with pride. She elbowed her mom and whispered, "Told you he'd be blown away!"

Silvia and Edward exchanged pleased looks, clearly delighted by his reaction.

They led Maverick to his bedroom on the first floor. It was as luxurious as the rest of the house, and Maverick couldn't help but feel a little shy. His own family's place back home was impressive, sure, but they went for modern and sleek, not this kind of royal charm.

The four-poster bed had deep, velvet curtains, and the furniture looked like it belonged in a castle. From the plush carpet to the carved details on the wardrobe, everything was steeped in history.

This kind of luxury was too overwhelming for him. Maverick couldn't help but grin, feeling a little out of place but excited all the same.