The church burned.
Blue fire crawled across stone and wood alike, unnatural and merciless—my Protego Diabolica twisting into something far more vicious under my anger. The flames didn't just consume. They judged.
I stood there, unmoving, watching it.
Beside me, Salazar was silent.
That alone told me how bad it was.
"We were right," he said quietly.
I didn't answer.
I couldn't.
Because if I did, I might not stop.
We had followed the disappearances.
One by one.
Children flagged by the quill—children who had shown accidental magic.
And then…
They were gone.
At first, I thought it was coincidence.
Then a pattern.
Then…
This.
The doors of the church had already been blasted open when we arrived.
Inside…
I forced myself not to look again.
Not yet.
"They're still alive," Salazar said, glancing toward the lower levels.
That snapped me out of it.
"Good," I said flatly. "Then we're not done."
We stepped inside.
The fire parted around us like it knew better.
Good.
They were waiting.
The ones responsible.
Priests. Officials. Men who thought themselves righteous.
I didn't speak.
Didn't warn them.
Didn't give them a chance.
My magic surged—
And their minds… opened.
Legilimency wasn't gentle.
Not when I didn't want it to be.
Images flooded in.
Screaming.
Children.
Tables.
Blades.
Experiments.
My hand tightened on my wand.
"…Animals," Salazar muttered.
"No," I said quietly.
My voice didn't even sound like mine.
"Animals don't do this."
One of them tried to speak.
Tried to justify it.
Something about "purging evil."
About "witchcraft."
About "saving souls."
I didn't even let him finish.
"Crucio."
The scream echoed through the burning church.
I didn't stop.
Didn't hesitate.
Didn't feel guilty.
I tore through their minds—every name, every location, every accomplice.
Every place they had taken children.
Every person involved.
I burned it all into my memory.
"Enough," Salazar said after a while.
I exhaled slowly.
Then flicked my wand.
Silence.
They dropped.
Godric arrived not long after.
One look at the scene—
And something in his expression… changed.
"…Where?" he asked.
I met his gaze.
"In the basement."
He didn't say another word.
The three of us walked down together.
I dismissed the flames with a flick of my wand.
They vanished instantly.
And then…
We stepped inside.
…
Even I froze.
Blood.
Everywhere.
Tables.
Tools.
Books filled with diagrams—twisted attempts to understand magic through flesh.
And children.
Too many.
Some… weren't moving.
My grip tightened on the Elder Wand.
"…Find the ones still breathing," I said, voice sharp.
We moved immediately.
I found the first one near the back.
Small.
Too small.
Three years old.
Barely alive.
Something inside me snapped.
"Stay with me," I muttered, kneeling beside them.
My wand moved instantly—precise, controlled.
Healing magic flowed through me, guided by everything I had studied, everything I had perfected.
Cells repairing.Blood restoring.Magic stabilizing.
I pushed harder.
More power.
More control.
"Come on…"
The child gasped weakly.
Relief hit me like a wave.
"Good," I whispered. "Good… you're okay."
I moved to the next.
And the next.
And the next.
Salazar worked beside me—silent, efficient.
Godric…
Godric was different.
He wasn't speaking.
Wasn't joking.
Wasn't smiling.
He was just…
Fixing things.
Carefully. Gently.
Like if he used too much force, something fragile would break.
"I've got this one," he said quietly at one point.
I nodded, not even looking up.
Time blurred.
One by one, we pulled them back.
Not all of them.
…But enough.
Too many small bodies still lay unmoving.
I sat back finally, breathing heavily, my hands shaking slightly.
"…Seven," Salazar said after a moment.
I looked up.
"Seven survived."
Out of…
I didn't even want to count.
Silence filled the room.
Then Godric spoke.
Soft.
But there was something terrifying under it.
"This doesn't happen again."
I looked at him.
Really looked.
Yeah.
This was the line.
I stood slowly, gripping my wand tightly.
"I got names," I said.
Salazar's eyes darkened.
"Locations?"
I nodded.
"All of them."
Godric didn't hesitate.
"Then we end it."
No argument.
No debate.
No morality discussion.
Just…
A decision.
I looked back at the children—those barely holding on, those already gone.
My voice was quiet.
Cold.
Certain.
"They wanted to study magic?"
My grip tightened.
"Let's show them what it really looks like."