Wizard Crackers and all sorts of bizarre fireworks always had a place on shop sales charts before the Christmas holidays. As wizards gazed at the magical projections of Fantastic Beasts that the fireworks cast against the night sky, wondering which varieties to take home, an enormous, mind-numbing firework exploded above the Ministry of Magic-without question, without a doubt, it was the mark of the Death Eaters, a snake clutched in its mouth.
"Shopkeeper, get me one that's big yet small, fat yet thin, fancy yet simple, colorful yet spotless-" On the shopping street near the Ministry of Magic, a customer choosing fireworks-or perhaps provoking the shopkeeper-froze.
"I think you're looking for trouble! If you're not buying, get out! Don't get in the way of my business!" The shopkeeper impatiently pulled out a feather duster to chase the customer away. After several fruitless swats, he too looked up-and in that instant, he made his decision.
"Out! Everyone out! I'm closing now!" the shopkeeper shrieked, driving every customer out of his shop, even though several still held fireworks they had not paid for.
Only after clearing the shop and slamming the door shut did the shopkeeper stop before a mirror. He took a hideous mask out of a pocket he carried with him and slowly became one with it, as though reunited after a long separation.
"At last. At last, the day has come!"
He was a Death Eater who had been lucky enough to escape arrest after the last war. All these years, he had kept his head down,
quietly gathering strength, because he firmly believed the Dark Lord would return one day-just now, through that Dark Mark,
he had truly felt the Dark Lord's summons. Unlike the indistinct call last time, the power and will behind this summons were so