The ruins slumped quietly against the night sky as the stars twinkled. Once a regal and mysterious castle it now doubled as a graveyard. Little remained of the once tall towers and wandering hallways. The rubble piled awkwardly, burn marks giving evidence to the damage wrought. A faint smell of acrid smoke seemed to still whisper from the deep corners of shattered rock. A shadow walked among the ghosts, his black cape fluttering in the midnight air. His pale blue eyes searched the jagged rocks, memories flooding his mind.
It had been one year since the first act of The Shadows startled the magic world. The blood of the wizards began to spill soon after, followed by the other citizens of the world of magic. Giants and elves began to vanish. Some had thought the dark lord fifty years vanquished had somehow returned. Others believed it to be shadows from within the Ministry of Magic.
They were all mistaken.
Aurors were dispatched to seek out the source of the vanishings. It was not long before some returned with tales that would send the strongest men to shake with fear. Others never made it back to The Ministry. Their fate to this day is unknown.
In the midst of this all, some still remained. Elder Aurors returned from retirement. Most took up residence in the Ministry of Magic while a select few were sent far across the land to monitor the vanishings. It was not long after the first act that destroyed the school and murdered hundreds that the Ministry of Magic came under siege and fell.
Looking across the valley, The Stranger shuffled his deep auburn cane forward, the memories overwhelming his fragile emotions. He had stood in these hallways a lifetime ago, learning the lessons of the past to use in the present. Battles of the mind and heart had been fought within the classrooms. He remembered the voices and faces of those now long gone into the mist.
One year later and the hope they had enjoyed for so long had soured. Blackened by the faceless evil that stalked the lands of magic, the power that so many relied on had failed. The spells lost meaning and with that, the power faded. The wands sputtered as the tide had turned.
The World of Magic was dead as far as The Stranger was concerned. Limping through the remains of the school, his eyes searched the grounds once more. So many teachers. So many good men and women. The students, murdered. All buried where they had fallen that fateful day one year ago. Few had escaped. Fewer still were those that remained.
The Stranger straightened his shoulders and looked down the path. The morning would return soon and with it the threat of The Shadows. He would have to travel with speed to seek protection. The Shadows never traveled or did much of anything past dark. The Stranger wasn't sure why this was but he was quietly thankful for such an interesting fact. For the time being, it had kept him spared from the massacre that had befallen his friends.
He would make best speed down the path. A last hope remained.
And it remained in the former Chief Auror.