Chapter Text
Aurors moved swiftly, silently around the small cottage. Far away from the Wizarding community it was nestled within the picturesque English countryside. The wizard who had come to call the small settlement home had loved that about it, the seclusion. The man had valued privacy more than most things in life.
Approaching carefully, a shiver ran up several of the wizard’s spines, they could feel the remnants of powerful magic lingering in the air like a fine mist. Not long ago there had been strong warding wrapped protectively around the property but now they hung in the air as invisible scraps of energy, swaying in the wind like sheer curtains shredded by a dagger.
Dry grass crunched softly under sturdy leather boots as an older man with a hard stature about him led the Aurors closer. The sounds of his steps muffled by the thick velvet of his scarlet robes, carefully the man stepped up to the heavy wooden door and light as a feather touched it with the tip of his wand. His voice was less than a whisper as he cast a powerful detection charm, a glittering golden light invisible to all but the caster bled from the wand then twined and twisted into the cottage, searching. At last the Auror felt his magic react with something, it was mild, no dark curses or wizards remained inside, he sighed knowing that they were too late. The man signaled to the rest of the Aurors that the building was clear before gently opening the door and entering the dark room.
“Lumos,” he whispered, quiet as a breath, suddenly the room was washed in brilliant white light revealing a gruesome scene that was now all too familiar. In the center of the room the wizard who owned the property was laying atop a dark wooden table the poor soul had been immobilized and placed there before his attacker had taken to flaying open his chest and torso. The flesh had been peeled back layer by thin layer until his insides were completely exposed, the attacker had taken their time cutting into him as he still lived. Blood was dripping from the table staining what was once a white carpet crimson, it was still fresh, not yet thick or congealed; they were only moments too late. The Aurors dispersed through the property, most scattering to search for any trace of the attacker. However, the older man remained in place, his face schooled into a stoic mask as he examined the body. He scrutinized the corpse noting every minute detail that aligned with the other victims, another younger Auror appeared at his elbow also observing the body.
“It’s just like the others,” the younger man commented, the quaver in his voice breaking the thick silence in the cottage, “his magic is gone.”
The older man sighed heavily before responding, “That’s what it looks like.”
“But- how? I still don’t understand how someone could steal their magic? Like how is that even possible?”
“Kid, that is the question I have been asking myself and anyone who would listen since the first victim was found.” The Auror sighed again and turned away from his younger colleague, the light still emanating from his wand briefly illuminated his face and caught on the thin lines of a lightning shaped scar and a pair of thin wire framed glasses.