The second floor was darker than the rest of the building. No lights burned here. Ethan advanced quietly along the corridor, boots making almost no noise on the warped wood out of caution. His wand remained raised in his hand, senses stretched thin. Every nerve was tuned to the slightest change ahead for any threat. He moved from one room to another, checking each carefully.
He stopped at the door beside a painting.
Behind it, he could hear slow breathing.
Ethan eased the door open and slipped inside. The room was small and cluttered, shelves lined with grimy jars and bundles of dried ingredients hanging from the ceiling. A man lay on the bed near the far wall, sprawled awkwardly, mouth slightly open as he slept.
Ethan did not hesitate.
He lifted his wand and whispered a freezing charm.
The spell struck instantly. The man's body locked in place mid breath, flesh turning rigid, skin paling into the lifeless texture of stone. His eyes snapped open, wide and glassy, frozen in raw terror as they fixed on Ethan.
Ethan stepped closer and lowered his voice.
"Sorry, buddy," he said quietly. "My boss ordered your extermination. You and your friends did something very wrong. Something that made her angry."
He raised his wand and pointed it gently at the man's temple.
"But first," Ethan continued, his tone almost conversational, "I need to see what is inside that little head of yours."
"Legilimens."
The word echoed in the room like a verdict.
The man's frozen eyes trembled as Ethan forced his way inside his mind. Memories burst forth in jagged fragments. Dark rooms. Chains. Crying voices too young to belong here. Rough hands and cruel laughter. The exchange of coin and favors. Faces blurred by greed and fear.
Ethan clenched his jaw as he pushed deeper, sifting through the thoughts with ruthless efficiency. Locations. Names. A hidden level beneath the building. A door reinforced with spells meant to keep screams from escaping.
When he withdrew, the room felt smaller.
"So that is how it is," Ethan murmured.
He flicked his wand once more. A thin, precise cut opened across the man's throat. Blood burst free under pressure, splashing against the frozen skin before running down in dark streams.
Ethan stood over the corpse for a moment, expression unreadable, gaze steady and detached.
"I wish I had more time," he whispered. "I would have made you suffer for what you did to those children and women."
His hand trembled briefly before he turned away.
He left the room and descended the stairs toward the first floor, his movements sharper now, anger coiled tight beneath his control. According to the memories, another man slept below. One of the last.
As Ethan reached the bottom of the stairs, a sudden shout shattered the silence.
"Merlin! Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Ethan spun toward the voice.
A woman stood in the doorway of a small kitchen, her face twisted in shock, a glass clutched in her hand. Before she could scream again, Ethan fired a spell.
The curse struck her squarely. She screamed once and collapsed to the floor, the glass slipping from her fingers and shattering across the tiles.
Another sound came right after. Ethan heard footsteps, fast and uneven, followed by a door slamming open down the corridor.
A man emerged from a nearby room, wand already in hand. The moment their eyes met, both reacted.
Spells exploded into the air.
Curses streaked across the room, blasting chunks from the walls and splintering furniture. Ethan dove behind a heavy table as a spell scorched the space where his head had been an instant before.
"You bloody rat," the man shouted. "How did you get in here?"
He fired again, then bellowed toward the upper floors.
"Where the bloody hell are you idiots? Are you all dozing off while some rat creeps around the house?"
Green light erupted from the man's wand.
"Avada Kedavra."
Ethan reacted without thinking. He rolled aside as the curse tore through the air, missing him by inches. He seized a nearby chair with a sharp flick of his wand.
The wood twisted and stretched, legs splitting and reshaping. In a heartbeat, the chair transformed into a massive spider, its body dark and bristling, eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger.
The creature lunged toward the place where the man had been.
The man screamed.
"Oh Merlin… what is that? Get it away from me—please!"
The spider leapt onto him, knocking him to the ground as he flailed in panic. Ethan rose from cover and struck.
A paralysis spell slammed into the man, locking his body mid scream. He hit the floor hard, wand skittering away as the spider dissolved back into lifeless wood.
Ethan approached slowly, breathing steady despite the chaos he had unleashed.
He crouched beside the man and pressed his wand to his temple.
"Legilimens."
More memories poured out. The same cruelty. Hundreds of victims. Children begging for their lives, only to hear his cold words: they were lesser, just Muggles without magic. They were used and sold like cattle.
Ethan withdrew and stood for a moment in silence, staring at the man. He had seen many cruel things in his life, but nothing quite to this extent. The sight settled in his chest like lead—sadness, heavy and quiet, mixing with a slow, burning anger that made his jaw tighten.
He ended the man's life with a single, efficient spell.
Silence flooded back into the building, thick and suffocating, pressing down like a weight.
Ethan moved through the first floor with careful determination, inspecting every room, every cupboard, and every lurking shadow. Nothing emerged of real value. No damning evidence surfaced to seal their fate, and no fresh scraps of information came to light that might explain who they were or what they intended.
At last, he stood before a heavy door at the back of the floor. Cold air seeped through the cracks around it, carrying with it the faintest sound.
Ethan tightened his grip on his wand.
He opened the door and revealed a narrow staircase descending into darkness. Without hesitation, he stepped forward and began his descent into the underground.
~~~~~~~~
The stairs descended deeper than Ethan expected, each step sinking him further beneath the building. The air grew foul with every level, thick with the stench of waste, sweat, old blood, and sour alcohol. He moved carefully, one hand on the stone wall, the other gripping his wand.
When his boots touched the final step, darkness pressed in from every side.
"Lumos."
Soft white light bloomed at the tip of his wand, pushing the shadows back just enough to reveal the underground chamber. The sight before him made his jaw tighten.
The floor was crowded with cages. Rusted bars lined the room in uneven rows, chains strewn between them like discarded bones. Hooks jutted from the walls. Some cages were open. Others were empty but stained with signs of prolonged captivity.
Ethan walked past them slowly, every step measured, anger simmering beneath the surface.
At the center of the chamber sat a man slumped in a chair. His head lolled forward, chin resting against his chest. Bottles littered the floor around him, most of them shattered. Dragon fire wine. The smell alone was enough to burn the nose.
The man was unconscious, lost in drink.
Ethan stopped in front of him.
He raised his hand and struck the man hard across the face.
"Wake up, you fat pig," Ethan said coldly. "It is morning already."
The man groaned and shifted.
"Leave me alone," he mumbled. "I want to sleep."
Ethan responded with a sharp kick to the stomach. The chair tipped backward and the man crashed to the ground, wheezing as he scrambled upright.
"What is wrong with you," the man barked, blinking through bleary eyes. "You said I could…"
His words died as he focused on Ethan.
"Wait," he said slowly, the word hanging in the thick silence. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"
Panic crept into his voice as he began searching frantically for his wand.
Ethan did not wait.
A spell struck the man's arm with brutal precision. Flesh tore apart in an instant. The hand vanished in a spray of blood.
He said with a low, mocking laugh, "What's the matter with you people? Every last one of you asks who I am or what I'm doing here. Isn't it glaringly obvious? I'm here to kill you monsters."
The man stared at the stump of his nonexistent hand, confusion frozen on his face.
Then the pain hit.
He opened his mouth to scream.
Ethan cast again.
The man's mouth sealed shut as if stitched by invisible thread.
"Shush," Ethan said quietly as he stepped closer. "Do not scream like a baby. You only lost a hand. Nothing serious."
The man shook violently, tears streaming down his face as blood pooled beneath him.
Ethan pressed his wand against the man's forehead.
"Let's see what information you have in that disgusting fat head of yours."
The memories flooded in.
Children dragged from their homes. Women chained and silenced. Transactions sealed with smiles and laughter. The children and women were used for personal gratification, then handed over to rich or dark wizards.
Ethan pulled back sharply.
He slapped the man once more. The force knocked him sideways. His body went limp, consciousness slipping away under shock, blood loss, and pain.
"Fucking Monsters," Ethan whispered.
He ended the man's life with a final spell that left a gaping wound through his torso.
Without another glance, Ethan stepped over the body and moved toward a small iron door at the far end of the chamber. He opened it.
More cages awaited him.
These were not empty like the ones outside.
Children. Women. Boys and girls huddled together in cramped spaces. Some lay slumped against the bars. Others were curled on the floor. Most were unconscious, held in unnatural sleep.
Ethan took a step forward.
A voice reached him.
"Please," a woman whispered. "Please do not kill us."
He turned toward the sound.
Inside one of the cages lay a woman, naked, her body marked by cruelty. Her eyes were red and hollow, her expression stripped of hope.
"Please," she begged again, tears choking her words. "We did nothing at all. Don't hurt the children. Take me instead. They're only innocent children."
Ethan's breath caught in his chest.
He approached slowly and knelt at a distance. The woman flinched and turned her face away, eyes squeezed shut as she waited for pain.
Instead, warmth washed over her.
She opened her eyes.
Clothes covered her body.
Ethan lowered himself to her level, careful to keep space between them.
"It is all right," he said gently. "I am here to help. You don't need to fear me."
Her gaze flicked to his wand, her body tensing again.
Ethan noticed immediately.
"I will take you and the others out of here," he said softly. "You are safe now."
He reached into his coat and withdrew a small bag. With a flick of his wand, the bag expanded, its enchantments releasing.
He took out a small potion vial and held it where she could see.
"Drink this," he said. "It will help you sleep."
She did not take it.
"What will you do with us?" she whispered hoarsely, barely able to force the words out. "Are you taking us somewhere else?"
Ethan met her gaze steadily.
"I am taking you home," he said. "You will sleep for a while, and when you wake up, you will be safe."
She shook her head weakly.
Ethan sighed.
"I am sorry," he said. "I don't have time to convince you. After what you endured, you cannot trust me. I understand."
He raised his wand.
"Sleep."
The woman's body relaxed instantly. Ethan caught her before she fell and lifted her carefully.
He opened the bag.
Inside was not darkness, but space. A fully furnished interior unfolded within, rooms lined with tables, chairs, and beds. It looked like an ordinary Muggle home, warm and clean.
Ethan stepped inside and laid the woman gently on a bed.
He returned again and again, freeing the children, lifting them carefully, carrying them into the enchanted space. Each time the magical bag expanded slightly, accommodating its new occupants.
When the last cage stood empty, Ethan stepped out and sealed the bag with a final spell.
He slung it over his shoulder and turned back toward the stairs.
His face was calm.
His eyes were not.
Without hesitation, Ethan climbed toward the first floor, leaving the underground behind him.
***********
Ethan emerged from the basement and returned to the first floor, the building unnervingly quiet once more. The echoes of what had happened seemed to cling to the walls, but there was no movement now, no breath other than his own. He moved through the rooms with practiced care, opening doors, checking corners, ensuring that nothing living remained hidden and that no other victims had been overlooked.
When he was satisfied, he stopped near the entrance and looked back one final time.
"Well," he said quietly, "this bloody place needs to be cleansed."
He raised his wand and spoke the incantation.
Fire bloomed instantly, not as a wild blaze but as something deliberate and alive. From the tip of his wand burst shapes of flame that twisted into the forms of sparrows. They took flight at once, darting through corridors and stairwells, slipping through doorways and cracks. Wherever they went, fire followed. The basement ignited. The second floor caught. The third floor answered in kind. Wood groaned. Stone cracked. The building began to burn from the inside out.
Ethan stepped outside and paused at the threshold.
Dawn was breaking.
A thin, pale gold light crept along Knockturn Alley, uncertain and feeble, struggling against the angry orange glow that now flooded from the windows behind him. Smoke drifted upward in slow, greasy coils, laden with the foul stench of burning sins. From somewhere deeper within the shadowed passage came a sudden, heavy crash as something large and final gave way and fell.
Ethan watched long enough to be sure the flames had taken hold.
Then, with a sharp crack, he Apparated away, leaving the fire to announce itself to the waking magical world.
London.
He appeared in front of his house as the city hovered between night and morning. The street was still quiet. Curtains remained drawn. No one stirred.
Ethan stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Without hesitation, he crossed the living room and lifted the telephone. His fingers moved quickly as he dialed.
"Morning, boss," he said when the line connected. "I finished the mission."
He listened, nodding once.
"Don't worry," he replied, his voice calm and steady. "I'm glad I went when I did. Just tell me where to bring them."
Another pause.
"All right. I cannot Apparate there since I have never been, so I will take a cab."
He listened a moment longer.
"Sure. See you there."
Ethan placed the receiver back and picked up his bag. Moments later, he was outside again, flagging down a cab as the sun finally began to rise.
***********
Surrey Hills.
The cab pulled over near a quiet roadside, surrounded by rolling green fields and tree lined lanes. Ethan paid the driver and stepped out, breathing in the clean late morning air. It was a sharp contrast to Knockturn Alley, almost jarring in its calm.
He followed the path Olivia had given him, walking toward a distant farm nestled among the hills. After several minutes, a wooden fence came into view. A sign hung at the entrance, its lettering simple and clear.
Ethan opened the gate and walked in. Sheep grazed lazily across the fields. Farther up the slope, cattle were being guided toward shelter. People moved about the land with quiet purpose, tending to their work as though nothing extraordinary ever happened here.
As Ethan approached the main building, a familiar voice reached him.
"You are late."
He turned to see Olivia stepping around the side of the house, her expression as composed and serious as ever.
Ethan sighed softly. "It seems you arrived before me, boss."
"An hour ago," Olivia replied. "Bring the children. They need tending."
"They are unconscious," Ethan said, adjusting the strap of his bag. "Seventeen of them."
Olivia nodded and turned toward the entrance. "Let us go inside. I had the building cleared so no one will see you perform magic. And don't t concern yourself with Ministry traces. That has already been handled by the Crown."
They entered the house together.
Inside, the building was spacious and warm, with a large hall at its center and rooms branching off in every direction. Ethan moved into the hall and began his work. One by one, he brought the rescued victims out of the enchanted space, laying them carefully onto prepared beds and blankets. When the last was settled, he shrank the bag back to its compact size and slipped it into his pocket.
Olivia returned with several men and women.
"Please clean them and bring them to the guest rooms," she instructed calmly. "They will be staying with us for a few weeks."
The staff moved at once, gentle and efficient as they carried the children and women away.
Ethan watched them go, his shoulders finally lowering now that the task was complete.
"You don't look well," Olivia murmured quietly, her gaze gentle but searching as it moved over his tense posture and troubled expression. "What did you see?"
Ethan exhaled. "They suffered a lot, boss. The children were going to be sold to dark wizards for experiments. The women were meant for abuse by influential figures. It was bad."
He stared out one of the windows, lost in thought.
Olivia remained silent for a moment before speaking. "They are safe now. That is what matters. Did you uncover anything useful?"
"Yes," Ethan replied. "They were only a small group. Part of a larger organization with international ties. This is a business. There are names that need investigation."
"Write a report and send it to me," Olivia said.
Ethan gave a small nod, then hesitated, his brow furrowing. "What about the victims?" he asked quietly. "Should I erase their memories?"
"No," Olivia answered. "The organization will handle that. Once they are stable, they will be returned to their normal lives."
Ethan turned toward the door. "Then I should return to Hogwarts. Nina will be looking for me."
As he reached the exit, Olivia spoke again.
"You did well today, Ethan. But remember who you are. You are an OCA. Unnecessary emotion is a flaw. The Crown does not tolerate emotionally driven agents risking missions."
Ethan stopped. For a few seconds, he said nothing. Then he turned back and smiled.
"Oh come on, boss," he said lightly. "I am not a child anymore. You don't need to remind me."
He stepped outside.
Olivia watched him go, then sighed softly to herself.
"You can hide it from everyone else," she murmured into the empty hall. "But you cannot hide it from me, you idiot."
With that, she turned and walked toward one of the rooms, already moving on to the her next task.