As thick fog spread through London and Greyback's squads were captured one after another, the city's unusual developments also drew the attention of others.
Wiltshire. Moonlight poured through the trees, casting vast, bizarre, eerie shadows across the grassy clearing where a cool breeze stirred in the quiet night.
Branches and leaves swayed, blades of grass bowed low, and the wrought-iron gates at the manor entrance trembled softly. The letters spelling "Malfoy Manor" at the top swayed along with them.
From afar, the wind passed through the maze of hedges beyond the iron gates, carrying a voice that echoed beneath the night sky—a furious, exasperated roar:
"...Those filthy scum, sewer rats, contemptible turncoats..."
Deep within the manor, on the first floor of the castle, dim yellow light spilled from an open window. Dobby squeezed out of thin air, a tray floating beside him, piled with small snacks to accompany the wine.
"...When I first took office, I should have swept all those traitors and petty villains out!"
Hearing the shouting and cursing from the hall, Dobby shrank back in fear. But the obedience to his master that had been ingrained into his bones over countless years made him overcome his terror and knock softly on the door.
"Who is it?"
A voice asked.
"It's Dobby, my master. Madam ordered Dobby to bring some snacks."
"Come in!"
Having received an answer, Dobby hurriedly lowered his head and gently pushed open the door.
The hall was vast, with a high, shadowy vaulted ceiling like the palace of a giant. Its furnishings were quite sparse. Apart from several windows and a few drapes serving as decoration, there was only an enormous table and a fireplace at the far end.
Two people stood by the fireplace.
One of them was tall and slender, his platinum-blond