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Midnight black billowing robes cradled close to the man with no soul, his hood was drawn low and his features were sunken deep into the black shadows that caressed his life with every breath. Who he was couldn’t be seen by outside eyes, and even his mind was guarded with the veil of Occlumency that eclipsed him. The towering shadow flew across the face of the earth and glided hastily over the open entrance courtyard just outside the path that leads down to Hogsmeade until his last moments had hidden him within the abyss of the forest and all that lays forbidden within. He left Hogsmeade Streets as quietly as he could, his fingers clamped tight over the soft tendon of a throat while his wand danced under his robes.

Perilously gold eyes shot back and forth like a dagger as he raced within the forest, pressing deeper and deeper until he could see not but the grace of trees and the blankets of black that followed him all night long. The hooded figure separated all at once; a woman shot down from under the confines of the robe making that impeccably large shadow much leaner, much taller, and simpler, leaving that of a man standing over her.

But she was asleep, and even as he unraveled her from the hidden confines of his robes and dropped down her down to the ground, she didn’t wake. He could hear wolves howling in the distance, wings flapping overhead, and the crunch of grass beneath his feet with every step. Dragonhide shoes prodded the woman’s side, nudged her, so that he could see her face one last time…

He knew her, knew of her. Her name was Nancy Johnson, was, because by the end of the night, she’ll never be the same woman again. He would make sure of that. Her daughter was in the Daily Prophet, and this, this would be sure to draw headlines. He cast a few protective charms around him, to keep her shouts from waking the world.

Fire was all he could see, but he couldn’t use fire. No, not this time, not in the forest; the leaves and trees huddled closer together whispering secrets in the wind. He had no time to waste, he realized, and retrieved two books hidden on him and gently laid each down flipping open to the right page. Inferius, the chapter read at the top, and he smiled bright as the half-moon above him. ”Silencio, he decreed with such vehemence, it was like poison had seeped in and closed her throat from making any sounds, and squeezed tighter, and tighter, constricting airflow until her face glowed a bare aubergine hue and then, pale as death.

Huddled down beside her on one knee, his fingers teased the pages of the dark book he’d received from Lord Xilan and began reading the incantation to raise the dead. Now, more paranoid than ever, that someone may have seen his disappearance.

Life slowly drained from her face, leaving the middle aged woman with pale sunken features tainted a grim and ghastly stark white while her lungs concaved and she suffocated right before his eyes. Immobile and statuesque, he stood as hard as iron, unyielding and undamaging while gold eyes ravaged the book apart and ripped its contents from its dead pages until they were slipping out of his tongue. His dark, deep voice rolled in the chasms of his throat with insidious and malicious poison dripping off each and every syllable.

He didn’t dare to rip his focus away from this, the spell was long, too long, and his wand waved in slow, sweeping sharp slopes precariously timed. His gold eyes were set on the witch crumpled below him, the witch who chose to shun a pureblood wizard for a muggle man, whose daughter worked as an inquirer for the most noted wizarding newspaper in London.

Seconds stretched on to minutes, and minutes seemed to drag on for hours until he finally finished the spell, and the body of who was once Nancy Johnson began to glow a black, sinister hue. Her flesh bubbled and writhed all at once, muscles contorting and tightening and breaking all at once. A silent blast of light blinded him, and Tay grits his teeth as he took a step back to shield his eyes with his arm. A few moments later, and the light faded away.

Paranoid now, his eyes furiously darted back and forth ripping the forest apart for any signs of life that may have caught wisp of the sudden source of light in the pitch black. He hoped he was deep enough in that no one from the castle could see or notice.

But the body… She hadn’t done a thing. Her flesh seemed thinned, and purple black bruises marred her flesh in various places where the curse had failed to seep into her heart and infect her with undead life. He growled lowly, raised his wand, and tried again. His focus was keener, sharper, and much more oblivious to the world around him as he slowly began the incantation once more.