"We brought our pets with us, as you instructed. Mr. and Mrs. Norris. A pair of house cats." Argus Filch dragged two screeching cats with him as he and a frail woman entered. "Mr. and Mrs.?" One of the black robed and masked figures questioned with amusement. "Ahhh yess… ummm she…" Argus said nodding t the woman behind him.
"If that is your wish!" Thundered another. "YOU!" he pointed at the woman, "Come forth and speak; What ails you." "I don't know." She said quivering. "We- ah- we- hhuuh huh….. tried to … we tried it, magic, we are squibs but we still tried it, we don't know what happened but its killing her… he I SHE….. vomits blood" Argus said hardly, gulping. They all thought it but only one said it "Worthless squibs."
"Legend has it, that a Dark Lord, whose powers exceeded, that of you know who's once did this. He transferred his soul into another living being. And lived as it after his own body perished. And it curses everyone present. But you are wretches. And we…." Vile, malevolent vicious laughter resounded throughout the high domed manor as they all laughed, all except the wretched squibs who cowered in fear.
After a few preparations, "Take the life of one to break your soul." ordered one of them to the woman in a white chalk circle. And she wrenched the neck of one of the cats, weeping as she did. She fell to her knees as the cat died. She sunk into her self, crying gasping; unable to comprehend her own actions. She had raised the cat from whence it was but a mere helpless kitten. She had cherished it for years. And now it lay in her hands dead. She was ashamed at the lengths she had gone to survive. But now, there was no turning back, she wanted to, but she knew she couldn't.
One of the masked black robed men took another cat, and was handed a knife. They hummed a silent spell as he slit the cat's throat and walked around the circle, drenching it with his blood. He gutted the cat. Argus backed into a wall and fell, he backed away further into the wall, terrified. The symbols carved into the floor were now pools of blood. They were now screeching and screaming guttural prayers to the dark Gods. Argus was now frozen with fear. One of them left as they continued. Another went in the circle and stood beside the woman. He came back with a weapon [this is where you get to choose: a large claymore, a gleaming saber, a massive axe, a cartoony mallet, a blunt weapon like a club, or a spiked club as a morning star, or perhaps a bardiche] And handed it to the one standing to the woman's right within the circle. The weapon holder then started circling the woman counterclockwise. Another joined him and was circling them clockwise. The rest now stopped their screaming and started chanting a spell in an unknown tongue, filling the large room with a resounding metronome. The weapon holder stopped at the woman's left. The other one completed the circle to come to her right. He then walked to her, and bent down to push her to the ground. The dead cat was still in her arms, now engulfed by her body. He turned her head to face the weapon holder. The weapon holder raised his arms, hoisting the weapon above his head. They chanters changed their tone and as the crescendo rose to a peak, the weapon holder let his hands fall, crashing the mighty weapon upon the woman's head, her puny skull crushed. [Her head smashed, brain scattering everywhere, even a few specks on Filch himself. OR Her head was perfectly sliced (somewhere around the eyes) and toppled a few inches away] Their chanting continued.
After a while, while they still chanted, the cat burrowed itself from the folds of cloth it was confined in. It hopped out from corpse of the woman that smothered her in its dead embrace. A few nails got stuck in the woman's clothes. It freed itself. Once completely free, the cat shook itself and meowered.
The one who seemed to conduct the ceremony said, "Have you know of the Legend?" Argus Filch shook his head. "This be not coincidence that you bring cats, for the DarkLord hath turned himself into a cat it says. And now so has your wife."