Late at night, in a two-story building somewhere in Knockturn Alley.
A group of about ten wizards had gathered inside.
They were scattered around the room in what seemed like a disorganized fashion—but in truth, each one covered a different direction, ensuring that if an attack came, they could respond instantly.
At the center of the room, on a sofa, sat a young man.
He lounged back with one leg crossed over the other, dressed in a silver-white suit. His hair was black, as were his eyes.
On his chest was a strange insignia.
The emblem took the shape of a shield. In the upper left and right corners of the shield were two five-pointed stars. At the center of each star was a mountain-shaped symbol. Below them rested a short sword.
On either side of the shield were two greyhounds standing upright, and beneath the shield hung a banner bearing the French words:
Toujours pur — Always Pure.
Everyone in the wizarding world knew what that crest represented.
It belonged to the Black family—one of the most noble and wealthy pure-blood families in all of Britain.
And this young man was the only living sixth-generation heir of that family. The current head of the Black family—Karmit Black.
Karmit took a slow sip of the red tea in his hand.
"Bilair, has Belinda not returned yet?"
At his words, one of the wizards stepped forward and knelt on one knee. "My lord, judging by the time, she should be back soon!"
Karmit gave a small nod.
After about ten minutes, a wizard by the window spoke up. "My lord, Belinda's back!"
Karmit waved his hand lazily.
The wizard who had spoken went to the door and opened it. Moments later, a female witch walked in, dragging a man by the collar.
She tossed the man onto the floor before kneeling before Karmit.
"My lord, the man has been brought back!"
Karmit looked down at the male wizard on the ground, who stared back at him in terror.
The man crawled forward frantically until he was at Karmit's feet. "My lord, merciful master, please forgive me! Give me another chance!"
Karmit's voice was calm, almost emotionless. "Ulysses, I've trusted you—always have. I even put you in charge of the first magical creature materials shop owned by the Black family."
The words were spoken softly, but every person in the room felt the chill seep into their bones.
They knew their master well—when his tone was calm, it meant he was furious.
Karmit placed his foot gently atop Ulysses's head.
"But you betrayed my trust, Ulysses Cecil. You've disappointed me."
Ulysses trembled violently, his voice breaking. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, my lord! They—they took my family! I had no choice, I truly had no choice!"
Karmit's tone remained flat. "There was a time when I considered you part of my family. Bilair!"
"Sir," Bilair replied, turning to open the bedroom door.
Ulysses's eyes widened in horror.
Inside the room were his family—his wife, his son, and his mother—all bound and gagged.
He fell to the ground, bowing over and over. "My lord, please! It's all my fault! Spare them! Please, don't hurt them!"
"So," Karmit said quietly, "tell me, Ulysses—who ordered you to do it?"
Without a second's hesitation, Ulysses cried out, "Yaxley! It was Yaxley!"
"Oh? Yaxley, you say? Are you certain?"
"Yes, my lord! It was old Yaxley himself! He found me, captured my family—I couldn't refuse! Please, I beg you, forgive me!"
Karmit lifted his foot away.
Sensing the shift, Ulysses scrambled to wipe Karmit's polished shoes with his sleeve, his movements desperate.
"I've always appreciated people who value family," Karmit said softly.
Ulysses's eyes lit up with hope. "Yes, my lord! I treasure my family deeply!"
Karmit smiled faintly. "Funny. I considered you part of my family too. And yet—you didn't value me."
He extended a hand. Belinda stepped forward and offered him his wand with both hands.
Taking it, Karmit tapped the tip lightly against Ulysses's throat.
Ulysses froze. "M–my lord!"
Karmit spoke in the same measured tone. "For the years you've served me, I'll send you off myself. Don't worry—you won't be alone. I'll send your family to join you. After all, you care for them so much."
Ulysses's eyes went wide, but before he could speak, a flash of sickly green light burst from Karmit's wand.
The spell hit him squarely in the chest.
He never even had time to scream before life left his body, and he collapsed with a dull thud.
Belinda stepped forward, retrieving the wand from Karmit's hand.
"Give them a quick end," Karmit said softly. "Ulysses worked beside you for years. He made mistakes, yes—but perhaps his family's deaths will be enough to cleanse his sins."
Belinda bowed her head. "Yes, my lord. You are truly merciful."
Karmit smiled faintly, snapped his fingers, and vanished into thin air.
Once he was gone, the gentle curve of Belinda's lips twisted into a cold smirk.
"Bilair, let's go. We'll make sure Ulysses's family receives a… proper farewell. The master is merciful—but traitors like these don't deserve an easy death."
Bilair grinned. "Of course, my lady. As you wish."
Moments later, screams echoed through the building, mingling with the sounds of the Cruciatus Curse being cast over and over.
The other wizards didn't even flinch. They were used to it—some even looked eager to join in.
When dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight touched the streets of London—
At Number 12, Grimmauld Place, Karmit Black awoke.
Beside his bed sat a cup of warm milk and a freshly delivered issue of the Daily Prophet.
Leaning back against his pillow, he picked up the paper and glanced at the front page.
The headline caught his eye immediately:
[Fire in Knockturn Alley—Four Dead in Mysterious Blaze]
According to the report, Aurors had arrived too late. The fire had consumed the entire residence. Four bodies were recovered. Preliminary investigation suggested the use of Fiendfyre.
The Ministry of Magic had officially classified it as a dark wizard attack, with Aurors already dispatched to investigate.
Karmit tossed the paper aside with disdain.
The Ministry—just like Muggle police—always showed up after everything was already over.
Useless. Absolutely useless.