The Mark of Death

July 4th, a day off, was filled with the usual hustle and bustle of the Lupin household. William was deeply immersed in a book, while Ketti happily helped her mother in the kitchen, preparing lunch. Sunlight streamed through the windows, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.

Suddenly, a letter from Severus Snape arrived, delivered by an owl, breaking the calm. Malcolm took the letter, read it, and his face immediately changed, though he remained calm. He handed the letter to Charlotte and looked at her face, which was filled with determination.

Charlotte sighed, her voice soft yet confident:

— Malcolm, we have to do something. But first, we need to figure out how to explain this to the children.

Malcolm nodded, and they both considered the situation. Soon, he approached the children, who were sitting in the living room, full of joy about the upcoming day with their Muggle friends.

Trying to speak calmly and casually, Malcolm said:

— William, Ketti, how would you feel about spending the evening with your friends? We know it'll be fun, and you'll enjoy your time with them. We were planning to spend the evening together, and this will give you a chance to enjoy the company of Muggles.

Ketti, smiling, exclaimed:

— Oh, that sounds great! We haven't seen them in a while. And I really wanted to play with my friends!

William, also excited about the idea, added:

— Yeah, it's a great opportunity to spend time with them. We haven't been to their house in a long time.

Charlotte, gently supporting the idea, said:

— We'll be happy to know you're having fun. And we, in turn, will get a little rest and prepare for next week.

Malcolm gave a slight smile and confirmed:

— Exactly. I hope you have a great time. Don't forget to tell your friends that we're letting you go.

William and Ketti, unaware of the true reason, happily began to get ready. Charlotte and Malcolm exchanged farewell looks, full of hidden fear and resolve.

Once the children left to join their friends, Malcolm and Charlotte began preparing. They carefully checked all the protective spells and barricades, getting ready for an evening that could very well be their last. The shadows thickened, and night was drawing near, bringing with it an inevitable tension and fear.

Night descended on the Lupin house as the clock struck eight. The house was silent, with only the faint light from the windows and the flickering flames in the fireplace creating a cozy atmosphere. But on this evening, instead of the expected calm, the clouds of danger were gathering above the house.

Voldemort and his allies, Antonin Dolohov and Evelyn Hart, approached the house.

Voldemort then cast a spell, destroying all the protective charms that Malcolm and Charlotte had set up to defend against his intrusion.

As the charms were shattered, Voldemort and his followers entered the house. The Dark Lord and his companions moved through the corridors like shadows—silent, but with an inevitable, menacing aura. They found Malcolm and Charlotte in the dining room, where the couple had already been waiting for them, full of fear and resolve.

Voldemort slowly surveyed the surroundings, as if evaluating every detail. His face remained impassive, but there was a hidden undertone of refined malice in his voice.

— I see I'm not exactly welcomed in this house, — he said, his tone soft but laced with threat. — Malcolm, Charlotte, it's a pleasure to see you again.

Malcolm's face twisted with tension, but he tried to maintain his composure.

— We're not going to become your servants again. We've repented for our sins, and we won't return to serving evil.

Charlotte, despite her fear, stood strong beside her husband.

— We've made our choice, and we won't give in to your threats, — she added resolutely.

Voldemort smirked, his eyes gleaming with a malicious light.

— That's a shame. But I didn't come just to discuss past sins. I came to offer you a choice — return to me, or say goodbye to this world forever.

His words sounded like a curse as he took a step closer to Malcolm, who was trembling with fear. Voldemort raised his wand, and his voice became ice-cold:

— I have no doubt that you understand what it's like to face true fear. I'm sure you're ready to experience everything I can offer, to truly understand the price of your pride.

Malcolm and Charlotte exchanged looks filled with pain and resolve. Then, as if on cue, Antonin Dolohov and Evelyn Hart acted quickly. Dolohov grabbed Charlotte and dragged her up the stairs, despite her screams and attempts to break free. Charlotte was stubborn, her tears mixed with desperation, but her unwavering gaze was full of determination.

While Dolohov was dragging Charlotte away, Voldemort turned to Malcolm. His voice remained cold and refined:

— Now, Malcolm, allow me to remind you what it means to reject my offer.

With those words, he cast the Cruciatus Curse, and instantly, excruciating pain seized Malcolm. His body twisted in fear and suffering, his screams echoed through the house, filling it with terror. Voldemort savored every moment of the torture, basking in the satisfaction of every cry of pain emanating from his victim.

Dark shadows thickened, and in that house, the night felt like an endless nightmare, consuming all that was light and good, leaving only fear and suffering.

In the bedroom, now consumed by darkness, Charlotte struggled to pull away from Dolohov, her body trembling with fear. She fought her own terror, trying to break free from his grip, but her hands were bound by ropes, and fear and horror paralyzed her.

Charlotte tried to fend off his advance, gritting her teeth and pressing her knees tightly to her chest in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. The screams of her husband still echoed in her mind, and these sounds were her only comfort. She tried to use every last ounce of her strength to resist, though it seemed almost hopeless.

As Dolohov drew closer, Charlotte pressed her lips together, holding back sobs. She whispered a quiet "no," her voice almost inaudible in the grim solitude of the room. Charlotte resisted with all her might, but at some point, her desperate attempts were in vain. Dolohov was relentless, his movements confident and brutal.

Despite her inner struggle, Charlotte continued to try to fight him off. Her face burned with shame and fear, but in her eyes, the spirit of defiance still shone. She wanted Malcolm to know that she was fighting, even though she could not save him.

Her thoughts were focused on the sounds of pain coming from downstairs and on how she could justify her weakness to Malcolm. These thoughts became her inner refuge, the only place where she could battle the humiliation and terror that sought to consume her.

In the room, filled with the acrid smell of burnt wood and fear, Voldemort watched as Malcolm, exhausted from the torture, tried to regain his dignity. Malcolm, weary and covered in wounds, still stood proud. His eyes, despite the pain, sparkled with resolve.

Voldemort, with a cold, indifferent gaze, stood before him, his voice venomously soft as he spoke:

— I see you still hold on to your illusions. But listen to me, Malcolm. I am ready to offer you a path to forgiveness. Accept my offer, and you can once again take your place among those who serve me. I know you have two children. Let this be your final warning. You can return to the power, or... I will be forced to make sure you disappear forever, leaving nothing behind.

Malcolm, swallowing hard, broken and bleeding, looked at Voldemort with deep hatred and revulsion. His voice was hoarse but full of determination:

— You will never touch my children. I will never serve you again. Let death be my sentence, but I will not let you win so easily.

Voldemort watched with mild astonishment as Malcolm, even on the brink of death, maintained his resolve. As if in response, his face twisted into a smirk. He slowly approached Malcolm and, with a short, grim motion, uttered:

— As you wish.

At that moment, Voldemort pointed his wand at Malcolm and cast a curse that instantly consumed him in green light. Malcolm's lifeless body slumped to the floor, his suffering coming to an end.

In the bedroom, where silence had been replaced by sounds of violence and fear, Charlotte, exhausted, lay on the bed. In the darkness of the room, only shadows and the dim light of a lamp played across her face, reflecting both fear and anger. Dolohov, satisfied with his evil goal, showed her no sympathy. His rough hands and cruel actions were not just physical violence but an assault on her dignity and spirit.

Charlotte, despite her condition, continued to look at him with contempt and hatred. There were no tears in her eyes, only unyielding judgment, as if she saw him as nothing more than a pitiful creature.

Evelyn Hart, having gone upstairs, whispered something to Dolohov that was hidden from Charlotte's view. Dolohov paused for a moment, then smirked with a malicious grin, his eyes filled with coldness. He turned to Charlotte and mockingly spoke:

— Know this, the Dark Lord has already dealt with your husband. He is no more.

These words, full of sinister satisfaction, sparked an explosion of fury in Charlotte. Despite her pain and fear, she attempted to lunge at Dolohov, aiming, though hopelessly, to avenge her husband.

However, her attempt was immediately thwarted. Dolohov, with icy calm, pointed his wand at Charlotte and cast the spell:

— Avada Kedavra!

A bright green flash erupted in the room, and Charlotte's lifeless body fell to the floor. Her final thoughts were filled with grief and terror, but also with pride for her resilience, even in her final moments. She showed no weakness until the very end.

As they left the Lupin house, Dolohov cast a spell, and the sky above the house erupted with the ominous Dark Mark. The sky glowed with green light, a reminder to anyone who could see it that evil had once again visited this world. Then, with Dolohov and Hart, Voldemort vanished into the forest to Disapparate, leaving the Lupin house shrouded in darkness and despair.