Speculation, the Hidden Death Eaters

In Wiltshire, the sound of shattering glass suddenly rang out from a respectable manor. A cloud of black mist smashed through a diamond-paned window on the ground floor and shot out at incredible speed.

But the next second, the black mist stopped and slowly descended before two imposing wrought-iron gates. The mist dispersed, revealing Voldemort's pale face.

Then several more identical clouds of black mist rushed out of the manor.

"Master—" Bellatrix and Barty Crouch Jr. dropped to their knees at Voldemort's feet in terror, unable to understand why their master had suddenly flown outside in the middle of speaking, only to stop inexplicably at the front gate.

But they did not dare ask. They could only wait anxiously for Voldemort's orders.

Yet Voldemort acted as though he had not seen them. In a soft voice, he said, "You ran quite fast—but are you really willing to stay in Diagon Alley forever?"

Voldemort was not speaking quietly. At the very least, all the Death Eaters nearby heard him, but none of them understood what he meant.

And Voldemort clearly had no intention of explaining. Just as Barty Crouch Jr. was about to ask, he returned to the manor.

"Tell the Dementors they may feast as they please!"

At the same time, Silvan did not stop for a moment after returning to Diagon Alley. Only when he ran back to the wand shop did he finally let out a breath, and the sense of urgency in his heart eased slightly.

Fred and George soon came running after him, panting heavily.

"What exactly happened?" Fred asked impatiently the moment he entered. "Why do I feel like you were hiding from something? Dementors? But I didn't see any!"

"I don't know how to explain it either." Silvan glanced out the window and, only