two brothers
War is black. Under a starless sky, the battle rages, and at it's centre, two brothers stand. Fists clenched tightly around their wands, they tread wary circles around one another. Curses fly over their heads, jets of light that are white and green and red, and a voice snarls from somewhere, "For Merlin's sake, Black, just finish him off!" It could have come from either side.
He makes a brutal slashing motion in mid-air. The mask, but not the man, crumples to the ground. A mere boy stares out at the battlefield, and he, his brother, lowers his wand and says, "Get out of here, Reg. Before you get hurt."