Hecate stood invisibly in the chamber where the witch 'trials' were being held. The victims were being 'accused' of stealing magic from 'noble purebred' magicals on the patently false premise that only purebred human magicals could wield magic. Logic was not one of the human magicals' strengths.
She considered which of her three faces would be most effective. The maiden, golden haired and beautiful? The matron, gentle and motherly but terrifying in the defense of her children? Or the crone, aged and bent, carrying the knowledge of all magic: light, dark, and gray. She scratched one of the heads of the black cerberus that stood with her.
The abominations were all but slobbering in their desire to rend the soul of the current victim, a young girl no more than eleven.
The girl's accuser was a woman dressed in pink who bore an uncanny resemblance to a particularly noxious toad.
Hecate moved closer to the child, whispering into her ear. The girl's eyes widened and she turned to stare at her tormentor. "You say I committed a crime even though I got my wand legally. Let Lady Magic judge!"
"Magic has nothing to say to a filthy lying muggle!" the woman screeched at the girl. If it was her intent to terrorize her victim, she was succeeding admirably. The dementors moved in for their feast.
Lady Magic judged.
Multiple things happened simultaneously. The cerberus howled to announce her, Hecate made herself visible as Mother Magic, regal and furious, and the girl vanished.
"Who are you?" the toad screeched, turning on her. "Arrest her!"
One of the guards began to step closer only to find he was frozen in place and his soul was filled with dread as though he was facing a dozen dementors. He knew he would not leave the chamber alive.
One of the 'jurors' commanded the dementors attack her. They backed away instead.
Hecate stared at the dementors and spoke with the voice of true power from before the invention of runes or spells. From even before the invention of language as humans knew it. "Be gone."
The dementors screamed as searing white light burned through them.
"An Unforgivable! You dare cast an Unforgivable in the Ministry!" one of the 'jurors' shouted. He attempted to cast a spell at her. His wand exploded instead.
Hecate looked coolly at him. "A slave cannot be a master," she said. All the jurors and guards in the chamber began screaming as the slave marks they each bore started to burn. There were screams all throughout the Ministry of Magic, all throughout the Western Isles and beyond as the Dark Mark, the slave mark, burned. Even those hiding behind ancient and powerful wards burned.
Within seconds the burning had consumed them all, leaving only oily black ash and the occasional house ring behind.
"What are you? What have you done?" The pink toad's voice shook as it finally occurred to her the magical strength of the being in front of her.
"I have stopped this murder of souls, this perversion of the winnowing. I am stopping this wholesale premeditated murder of my blessed children by jealous Oldbloods who know their time is limited. Their inbreeding has weakened their magic, they refuse to conduct the rituals that would renew themselves and Gaia. And they have chosen to kill those who are newer to magic and stronger and would conduct the rituals. Worse, you have chosen to destroy their very souls.
"I am Magic! And you are no longer my child!"
The pink toad screamed as she realized that her magic had disappeared. Her wand shattered in her hand. All over the Western Isles there were screams as those who had aided and abetted the slaughter of the Newbloods found themselves cut off from their magic.
"Magic has judged."