After the completion of (the removal of) inheritance ritual, Ogden slowly nods his head in full understanding knowing that said actions could not be faked. Removing a child via blood magic ensured that said descendant could never be accepted back into the family and be denied their right to claim the Wilkes surname.
Unlike regular disinheritances, blood disinheritances could not be undone. Blood disinheritance is a punishment that is permanent for all eternity, and which could only be enacted under the most stringent of circumstances as punishment for the worst transgressions. (To enact such a ritual increased the odds of a family potentially dying out due to lack of sufficient descendants to keep the family line alive). It is never lightly entered into.
Clearing his throat, Ogden asked, "Can you please recount the transpired events in order starting from this morning?"
"We rose early and ate brunch as usual with our children. Then my wife and I commenced getting ready early for the Malfoy wedding to be held later in the afternoon," Mr. Wilkes explained, while Mrs. Wilkes clutched their youngest and now only child to her chest.
"Our youngest is still much too young to attend at such formal events and as such, he was to be left in the care of our nanny house elf," Mr. Wilkes continued. "Wish for our son to also enjoy his afternoon, Silviu to leave with his nanny and spend time with his dear friend, Esmond Fawley. The two boys are of the same age, and they are rather good companions."
Mr. Wilkes took a deep breath, before speaking again. "The manor was almost entirely empty as the house elves had already been sent away earlier that morning to Hogwarts. They were to present themselves in order to receive proper training until their training is considered complete. Nevertheless, the house elves would take turns and return to prepare the family meals and full their daily tasks."
Mr. Wilkes grows silent as Mrs. Wilkes wipes another stray tear and speaks in place of her husband. "My husband and I were waiting in the hallway for our son before departing for the Malfoy wedding together. We initially did not notice him pull out his wand. We thought nothing of it until he petrified us with a full body-bind curse. We were unable to speak or move and could only helplessly watch as he plucked a hair from each of us. And then-."
Mrs. Wilkes' voice faltered as Mr. Wilkes wrapped an arm around his wife in comfort. Leaning into her husband's hug, she softly whimpers, "And then our son took our invitation and left. We lay there stiff and cold on the floor until one of the family house elves returned to complete the day's tasks. At which point, we immediately sent our house elf to the Malfoy wedding, but it was much too late."
The voice of Mrs. Wilkes faltered, "We then sent word to Percius to have him come see us as quickly as possible. We knew that something terrible must have occurred and it was best to hear the truth of the matter from a close family friend. And then-. And then, Percius told us what terrible thing our son had done."
Mrs. Wilkes is unable to speak anymore and buries her face into her husband's shoulder. Mr. Wilkes gravely says, "We knew not what our son had planned, Ogden. We would have never tolerated such an abominable act. And though I believe in preserving blood purity to an extent, I am no zealot. The Wilkes family bears the traces of half-bloods and the marriages to foreign wizards and witches, we are certainly not hypocrites and won't' be the one to cast the first stone."
Ogden slowly says, "Have you seen or suspected your son of anything strange?"
Mrs. Wilkes shakes her head as Mr. Wilkes' face slightly darkens. "Though there is one thing," Mr. Wilkes stiffly said with a frown. "As of late, our son had been in contact with my half-brother, Primus Wilkes."
"And?" Ogden pointedly inquired.
"I do not make it a habit to speak ill of the family," Mr. Wilkes reluctantly answered. "However, my younger half-brother and I do not get along, it is a rather commonly known fact. My younger brother was raised by my zealot father and stepmother, whom I have not seen since I took my inheritance and have never since then set another foot in my childhood home."
"Though I disagreed with the view of my family," Mr. Wilkes confessed, "I still wanted my children to know their relatives and as such I permitted my sons to visit the Wilkes family home for a week during the summer and for a day or two during the winter holidays. My stepmother and father were long gone when my children were small. Though still residing in the Wilkes ancestral home was my half-brother still a bachelor even at his age."
"I saw no harm in their visits despite our differences," Mr. Wilkes quietly explained. "And if my elder son was fond of his uncle, I did not terribly mind it. For all our differences, Primus is still my younger brother and I cared for him in my own way. I have never wished him ill and will never do so."
But then something changed," Mr. Wilkes' voice dropped to a whisper, "it all began during the winter holidays of my eldest son's fifth year."
"What?" Ogden keenly interrupted.
"He was different," Mr. Wilkes slowly expounded with a furrowed brow. "I can't say how or why, but there was something off about him. Now, my wife simply told me that I was hallucinating that our son was merely changing from a boy to a man. But I knew my son's heart and at times it felt as though I could see someone else peering out from his gaze."
"My fears were soon set aside when my son returned to normal," Mr. Wilkes admitted. "I thought nothing more of it with great relief. Even if my son did not return during the winter holidays of his 6th year. He was a young man and needed his space, I could grant him that."
"I paid it no mind," Mr. Wilkes bitterly said, "but then I received various letters of concern from his close friends. They were worried he had taken ill. Apparently, they had invited him to visit the continent during the holidays, but my son had declined their invitations. Rather unusual of him since he had vehemently pleaded to be permitted to do so as a third-year student. We had denied his request at that time, but promised he would be permitted to travel once he grew older."
"Concerned, I wrote him," Mr. Wilkes rubbed his face in old frustration. "Yet our son responded as though nothing was wrong. He merely implied he wished to further his study. Not desiring to argue, I let the incident pass. And everything continued as it was until his 7th year."
"But what?" Ogden impatiently interjected.
"And then Primus came to see me," Mr. Wilkes frankly said. "You must understand, Ogden, I have hardly ever met with my younger half-brother since I left home. The last time I saw him was at my wedding and since then not again."
"And why did Primus come to see you?" Ogden further pried.
"For the strangest of reasons," Mr. Wilkes answered rather perturbed. "Primus declared that he would be going on a journey for some time and wished to turn over the rights of Wilkes Manor to me. I immediately refused as it was his heritage and right to have. Instead, I asked if he was so concerned about a lack of an heir that he leaves the manor to either of my sons. Yet Primus stubbornly insisted, and I frankly refused."
Mr. Wilkes gazed down at the ground. "And for the first time in a long time, I was afraid. There was something cold, almost sinister about his gaze. Not even my zealous father had ever inspired such fear in me. It was as though something inhuman was studying me deeming me worthy or unworthy to live. The blood-curling gaze was fleeting, and my brother impossibly returned to normal. The two of us said our goodbyes, and he promptly left. But I still could not put his gaze out of mind, his gaze reminded me eerily of that of my own son."
Mr. Wilkes raised his gaze from the floor and said, "Since then, whether my wife and son will admit it or not, Spurius Roland Wilkes was no longer my son. There was a chill about him that had not been there before. Something inhuman, and other times, I would find my son dazed as if trying to wake up from a nightmare only to fall back under a spell. I would like to think my son was under some sort of spell, but experience dictates otherwise."
"In that case, do you know where your brother, Primus Wilkes might have gone?" Ogden carefully asked.
"I truly do not know, Ogden," Mr. Wilkes confessed. "But wherever he is, I am certain that you will find him allied with my son and those responsible for the attack. Primus was always a zealot like my father searching for a fervent cause. I even remember during his time at Hogwarts, he would regularly brag that he was a member of a so-called secretive group called, the Knights of Walpurgis with that wanted murderer, Tom Marvolo Riddle. What an utter face!"
Mr. Wilkes sneered in repressed anger. "Nothing more than pompous purebloods attempting to be far more superior than the rest of us." Mr. Wilkes flickered at seeing a rather subtle tale in his friend's posture. He frowned for it was a habit that Percius still hadn't been able to break after all these years whenever he was surprised.