Dark figures began to appear on the wasteland, illuminated only by the ghostly moonlight.
— Hello, Lucius. It's a fine night to finish off that pathetic mudblood, — a voice rang out.
Lucius Malfoy only nodded silently in response.
Representatives of England's pure-blood families had gathered in the clearing: the Malfoys, the Crabbes, the Goyles, Alecto, and Carrow.
— Greetings, comrades! So many familiar faces, and all former Death Eaters. But where are the other families?
— Pff, those cowards! — spat the head of the Goyle family. — They are only good for shouting about their purity, but when it comes to action, they vanish instantly.
— The Master should have gotten rid of them back then. Especially the Greengrasses. I heard their daughter panders to that mudblood. What a disgrace!
Lucius frowned. He had planned to marry his son to Daphne Greengrass to strengthen the family's influence, but now that idea seemed less than ideal.
— Where is your brother? Why is he late? — Lucius inquired in an icy tone.
— Maybe he's celebrating? After all, you're paying him handsomely today, ha-ha-ha! — Gibbon smirked nastily. — I can't believe how much you're willing to give for the head of some boy. And all because your offspring were beaten by him? The Dark Lord would be deeply disappointed to hear of this.
— At least we have heirs to continue serving our cause, — Malfoy hissed. — If there's anyone the Lord would be disappointed in, it's your family.
— How dare you! My family, the House of Gibbon, died for the Master! Only my brother and I managed to survive by a miracle, while you...
He didn't finish: a suspicious rustle came from the darkness. Everyone instantly turned toward the sound. A triumphant smile spread across Gibbon's face. He stepped confidently toward the newcomer and clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.
— Brother, you've finally come! We were starting to get nervous.
Lucius drew a heavy leather pouch from the folds of his robes, the gold clinking clearly inside.
— Let's end this farce. Here is the promised reward, — he said coldly. — Where is the boy?
Oscar cast an indifferent glance at the bag and slowly shook his head.
— There will be no exchange.
The smile vanished from his brother's face instantly.
— Oscar, what are you talking about? Have you lost your mind?!
A strange, almost blissful smile played on Oscar's lips.
— Quite the opposite. For the first time in my life, I think I'm seeing clearly.
He didn't get to finish. A blinding flash of a spell hit him in the chest, throwing him back several meters.
— Lucius, what are you doing?! — Oscar's brother roared, leveling his wand at Malfoy.
— Are you blind? He's under the Imperius Curse, — Lucius snapped, not even deigning to look at the weapon pointed at him.
He approached Oscar's motionless body and touched the tip of his wand to the man's forehead. The wood glowed with a soft white light, scanning his consciousness. Ben, hiding in the shadow of an old oak, gripped his wand tighter. He didn't know Victor's true plan, but it seemed the boy had underestimated experienced pure-blood mages. Ben had already aimed at Oscar, deciding to kill him before he could betray Victor, but Malfoy's next words made him freeze.
— There is no curse on him, — Lucius frowned, not believing his own senses.
— Are you sure? — the head of the Alecto family stepped closer.
Malfoy gave him a disdainful look.
— Believe me, I am capable of recognizing an Imperius.
— Then wake him up. Let's hear what he's plotting.
Lucius nodded, after first searching Oscar. Finding no wand, he incanted a spell to wake him. Oscar groaned in pain. Malfoy immediately stepped back, still pointing his wand at him. Oscar's brother rushed over, helping him sit up.
— Brother, are you alright? What's wrong with you?
— I'm fine... — Oscar blinked, focusing his gaze. — I'm already starting to get used to this.
— Why did you change your mind about handing over the boy? — Lucius hissed.
Oscar laughed hoarsely.
— It doesn't matter anymore, — he looked at his brother, and his eyes reflected an infinite sorrow. — Forgive me... It's my fault we became like this. I'm the one who led you to Voldemort.
— What are you talking about?! It is an honor to serve the Dark Lord!
Oscar only shook his head sadly and began unbuttoning his shirt. When he bared his torso, his brother recoiled in horror. Thick, bright yellow veins radiated in all directions from his solar plexus. They pulsed and writhed under the skin like living larvae.
— Who... who did this to you? — he whispered.
Oscar didn't answer. He scanned the gathered Death Eaters.
— One day He will come for you. Everyone will get what they deserve. He will burn out everything rotten in your souls.
— Who is "He"? Oscar, you're scaring me! — his brother's voice trembled.
Oscar smiled, sat up, and gave his brother a firm, fatherly hug.
— Don't be afraid. He has already granted us liberation. Our souls will be purified in His flame... I love you, little brother.
The lines on his chest flared with an unbearable, brilliant yellow light. Sensing something was wrong, the Death Eaters scattered. Lucius reacted first — he apparated the moment he saw the start of the flash. Reappearing a hundred meters from the epicenter, he turned and was blinded: a sphere of pure light was expanding where the meeting had been, so bright that the world around it turned black.
Then the sound hit. A thunderous crack deafened him, followed immediately by a shockwave. Lucius was thrown to the ground like a rag doll. For a long time, he lay there disoriented, hearing only a thin, drilling ring in his ears. Finally, leaning on his cane, he stood up.
His heart skipped a beat. Before him yawned a gargantuan crater, its walls melting. Thick smoke and orange flames rose from the abyss. It looked like the gates of hell had been flung open.
— Lucius! Are you alright? — someone's frantic scream rang out.
He turned. The other Death Eaters looked pathetic: robes in tatters, faces covered in soot. Crabbe lay on the ground, steam rising from his charred arm.
— I'm fine. What about Crabbe?
— Alive, but he's in a bad way! — Goyle replied, trying to provide aid.
— What the hell was that?! — Carrow yelled, surveying the ashen remains.
Lucius frowned. He remembered recent reports from the Ministry about murdered and burned Death Eaters.
— Someone has opened a hunt for us, — he replied in an icy tone.
— What are you talking about? What hunt?
— Not here! Let's get out of here before the Aurors show up for that noise!
With a sharp crack, Lucius vanished. The others followed suit, Goyle being the last to drag the wounded Crabbe away. When the wasteland was finally empty, Ben stepped out from the shadow of the trees. He frowned, brushing dust off his robes.
— That damn boy... He could have warned me, — he grumbled, then casting a glance at the blazing crater, he sighed heavily. — Haaaa. Crazy child. Note to self: never make him angry.