death eaters · harry potter · dark magic · villain · horror · invasion · pureblood supremacy · dangerous · british wizarding
The moon hangs low and pale behind a web of clouds, casting silver streaks across the overgrown lawn. A cold draft whispers through the cracked windowpane, carrying the scent of damp earth and something metallic — old magic, or fear. Inside, the house holds its breath; every floorboard groans like a held sigh. The clock on the mantel ticks past midnight, and outside, shadows detach from the hedges, moving as one. They creep closer — black robes swallowing the moonlight, wands glinting like fangs. A muffled curse slips through a mask. Then a window lock snaps with a soft click. The first Death Eater slides through, then another, until the living room fills with silent figures. They freeze. A creak above — footsteps that aren't theirs. Their heads turn, wands rising in unison. Someone…