The Weak Fall First

The shrouded figure crossed the courtyard silently, invisibly, and came to a stop in front of the manor. A sinister smile played her lips, and she quickly ascended the worn stone steps leading to the great oak door. As her feet reached the top steps, the hair on the back of her neck stirred and she felt the air around her crackle with tension. She immediately knew she was not alone.

Instinctively, she turned, dropping into her duelling stance as she spun. She scanned the ground ahead of her.

Empty.

She had expected as much, he always did like to sneak around under that cloak of his. Predictably, she heard the shout: ‘accio invisibility cloak!’ and resisted the urge to laugh as no cloak flew into his outstretched hand. The young man pulled off his own cloak, and stared around in confusion.

She grinned.

The now visible male swiftly approached the manor and hurried up the steps to where she was standing un-seen. She gracefully side-stepped and waited patiently as he magically opened the door to his house than no-one else could enter uninvited. As soon as he entered, she nimbly stepped in after him and the door creaked shut behind.

Excellent.

She hissed his name into the silence. He spun around, stunning spells flying from his mouth. She dropped to the floor and grinned evilly as he continued to look confused.

A hint of fear in the depths of his eyes.

He barked out ‘accio cloak!’ but again, no cloak came at his call.

She smiled.

She had different means of becoming invisible without the use of a pitiful cloak!

She easily dodged the shower of clumsy spells aimed at the sound of her laughter, and came to a stop behind him. She placed her midnight black wand at the side of his head, and whispered two words in his ear ‘petrificus totalus!’

His wand clattered to the floor.

She twirled to face him, grinning evilly. As she allowed herself to be seen, she raised her wand to point right between his eyes. She laughed at the look of shock on his face.

Soon, very soon, she would hiss the words that would kill him, but first she wanted him to pay for his mistakes.

Her perfect lips curved into a cruel smile.

His screams as she tortured him would continue well into the night, but soon she would grow bored.

A flash of green light.

A thud of a body falling to the floor.

Silence.

…the last thing Hector Rookwood saw before he died was cunning, haunting, beautiful blue eyes…the eyes he knew so well…the eyes of his sister…