It was early the next morning when Cormac returned. He'd had a good time dropping by a few post-school parties, but was now feeling the full effects of a very potent hangover. It was not until his hand had touched the front door until a disturbing thought flashed keenly in his mind.
Something's not right…
"Mum?" called Cormac warily, stepping through the entranceway. "Da?"
His drawn wand did him little good. A spell hit him full-on as he entered the living room, knocking him to the hard-wood floor. His wand slipped from his grasp and, shouting, he reached for it – too late. A booted heel snapped it in half.
"Not so fast, there, junior," growled the bearded man who stood over Cormac. Another was poised over the still bodies of his mother and father. Both men wore long, black cloaks.
"You're just in time for the show, sonny-boy," jeered the bearded man, aiming a hard kick at Cormac's ribs. "We were just teaching your parents here to show the Dark Lord some respect." He gestured to his parents. His mother was barely conscious, covered in cuts and bruises. His father was dead.
"Watch close, now, boy – Forrester, finish the job." Cormac's scream echoed out as the jet of green light struck his mother. Beastly rage overcame him – in a flash he was on his feet.
Cormac stood a head taller than both men. He hammered the first with two blows to the throat and jaw – the bearded man fell to the floor. He'd tackled "Forrester" before the man had raised his wand. Cormac struck again and again, unrelenting in his fury. Forrester's face was turning to pulp. Finally, Cormac closed his hands around the man's throat, squeezing the life out of him. Cormac's tears fell upon him, mingling with blood. Forrester stopped breathing – turned cold – and was dead.
Cormac lost all control of thought and feeling. He would have no memory of what transpired after that – his mind a black blur of shocked agony. Never turning toward his parents' bodies, he ran out the door, into the forest beyond.
He was deep within the woods when he regained consciousness. It was the dead of night; no moonlight shown through the trees. Recalling the horror he'd fled from, Cormac was violently sick. His head spun until he collapsed on the forest floor. The deathly silence and the sweet smell of duff below overwhelmed him, carrying him off into a long, dreamless sleep.