In Wiltshire, a few miles from Malfoy Manor, stood another manor with a dark, gloomy style.
The Nott Family had built it three hundred years ago.
Today, Old Nott had just been discharged from St. Mungo's-not because his injuries had healed, but because he had to deliver goods to the Dark Lord at an appointed location that evening.
Old Nott returned home with his limbs still poorly coordinated. His eldest daughter, Gloria, waited at the door and thoughtfully took his coat as he removed it.
Old Nott swept a cold gaze around the drawing room and asked disapprovingly,
"Where's Theodore? Why hasn't he come to greet his father?"
Gloria hurried to explain.
"Dad, he's reading in his bedroom."
Old Nott glared at Gloria and casually slapped her across the face.
Smack!
"So you've learned to lie to me too?"
Gloria covered her bleeding mouth and stammered,
"Father, he's... he's really reading in his bedroom."
"Hmph!"
Old Nott shot her a glare and started toward Theodore's Bedroom. Gloria's expression turned alarmed.
She hurried forward to stop him.
"Dad, you've only just come home. You haven't eaten yet, have you? I've prepared a lovely dinner for you."
Seething with anger, Old Nott flung his arm out, throwing Gloria, who had grabbed his arm, to the floor. Then he stepped forward and kicked his daughter.
"Eat, eat, eat! All you ever think about is eating! Having you two children was utterly pointless!"
Gloria lay on the floor, enduring the pain without daring to make a sound. From the corner of her eye, she saw Theodore emerge from the back garden with a white rabbit in his arms.
Terror crossed her face, and she hurriedly mouthed for her brother to hide.
Theodore remained expressionless, utterly indifferent to the domestic violence before him, as though