The night had a sense of finality to it. Moonlight illuminated the robed man, whose purposeful strides broke the eerie silence. A single, pale hand dipped into the pocket of his robes, withdrawing the slender handle of a wand stained with the blood of hundreds. Raising it, he felt the air fill with tension. The silence broke, replaced by the hurried commands of a man who knew he was moments from death. A single jet of green light, and a crumpled form fell to the feet of the pale man's robes. Stepping over the body, the man continued forward. And there she was, trembling from head to toe but defiant all the same. The woman's piteous pleading was cut off abruptly with another flash of green. For what seemed like an eternity, the man contemplated the child before him. He itched to move his hand, to kill the infant he knew would be his downfall. Yet, he didn't. Slowly, his pale fingers lowered the wand. Something stirred inside him, however deep it may have been buried. An emotion he had not felt in years, possibly ever in his life. Compassion. The baby smiled, and so did the man.