They came in the evening. It was early in hour but the sun had long since set and darkness surrounded the great house. The group of hooded wizards passed through the magical wards guarding the house effortlessly and began their silent ascent up the path to the front doors. A non-verbal spell cast by the leader of the group unlocked the heavy wooden doors which were then pushed gently open to reveal a large hallway and a grand staircase.
The figures separated as they entered the house and as soon as the door was closed behind them, chaos ensued. Spells were cast blasting doors off their hinges, smashing irreplaceable heirlooms and shattering glass in windows and mirrors. Some of the group made their way up the twisting stairs and wreaked similar havoc in the rooms on the upper floors of the house. No bedcover was left unturned, no door remained closed and no room unsearched.
The only occupant of the house at that time was a young woman. She had been sitting in the library on the third floor when the first explosion echoed through the house. She placed the plate holding the toast she had been eating and the book she had been reading down on the table in front of her, and sat very still. She listened as each room of the beautiful house in which she lived was blasted apart and ruined. The noises grew closer and closer and yet she did not move. She knew who was in her house and she knew what they were looking for, or rather, who they were looking for. They had come for her, as they warned they would and trying to escape from them would be impossible. Her best hope was to show no signs of futile resistance and pray that the life she had worked so hard for would not be taken from her.
The blasting sounds began to quieten and the woman held her breath as she heard someone running up the stairs beyond the door her eyes were fixed on. Whoever was approaching slowed down as they walked down the corridor to the only door on that floor of the house, their heels could be heard clacking on the solid wood floor, louder and louder as they grew nearer to her.
The door to her left was shattered with a huge blast. She shielded her face with her arms, and was thankfully not hit with shards of wood that flew across the room with the force of the spell. The man who had cast the spells stood still as he waited for the smoke to clear and dust to settle, never lowering his wand. She sat up in her seat and took a deep breath in, thinking of the man she loved and how it was entirely his fault that she was in the situation.
When she could finally make out his face, she could see he was smiling; a row of yellowing teeth surrounded by a filthy beard.
He chucked manically before shouting, "She's here!"