Two lamps lit up in the basement.
An open notebook lay on one table.
Under the light on the other side was a man tied to a chair. He wore a hood and, perhaps sensing the light, twisted twice and tried to make muffled sounds.
Murphy yanked off the hood, revealing Albert Runcorn's swollen face.
He pulled the rag from the man's mouth.
"Runcorn, do you have any last words?"
"Murphy!"
Runcorn was drenched in sweat. He looked around wildly. "Where is this? What do you want?"
"Take a guess."
"You want to kill me? You can't kill me! My relatives are spread all over the world. They'll avenge me! You'd better let me go now, or I'll make you regret it..."
Murphy rolled his eyes. "Looks like you don't have any final wishes."
"Then say goodbye to your current self."
"What? No! Wait! Wai—"
"Obliviate!"
The spell's glow lasted for half an hour. At last, Albert Runcorn's memories were wiped clean.
That was only the first step.
For the second step, Murphy took out a bottle of Polyjuice Potion and forced it down his throat.
After a horrifying bout of twisting transformation, Runcorn became a blond boy of around eleven.
It was the appearance of a Muggle boy Murphy had found at an orphanage.
This Polyjuice Potion was highly potent, but it would only last a few hours at most.
So he seized the time for the third step, using Total Recall and the Duplication Charm to write images into Albert's mind.
Image One:
Several children played with a battered broomstick amid the ruins.
Suddenly, several bright missiles rose over the horizon at dusk. Like swords piercing the sky, they dragged brilliant arcs into the clouds, flickered there for several moments, then began to descend again.
"What are those?"