A mist of rain falls around the outskirts of the muggle village named Sharmourn. Up a winding path to the hill overlooking the village is a dark manor surrounded by budding thorny bushes. Past the cold metal gates, the dark manor is surrounded by dead trees (and a sea of tombstones behind the manor). The smell of moss and decay fills the air strong enough to suggest that something else is decomposing just below the surface.
Abruptly scores of popping sounds are heard as Aurors in crimson uniforms appear along with the A.P.D. officers in their dark forest green robes with the insignia of the A.P.D. embroidered on their chest, (that of a crow, wolf, and a green snake wrapped around the letters, A.P.D.). Already prepped, the raiding party moves as instructed led by an auburn-haired Auror with brown eyes and pale skin, Marlene McKinnon (nee Stein).
"Bombarda!" Marlene cast the incantation to blast open the sealed front doors.
With wands held high, the Auror's burst casting the Shield Charm expecting a barrage of spells. However, none fall upon them causing them to glance around. "Split into three teams," Marlene barked. "Kingsley head East, Podmore to the outskirts, the rest head West. Disperse!"
A third of the A.P.D. officers and Auror's depart with a tall darker, broad-shouldered wizard. Kingsley Shacklebolt's bald head glinted in the candlelight along with his single golden hoop earning. Sturgis Podmore, a square-jawed wizard with straw-colored hair easily heads out to surround the grounds, while Marlene heads towards the west corridor.
Bursting into rooms, the Auror's at first glance find nothing until they have traversed the entire mansion. The only living souls that they find are terrified house elves hiding in their cubbies. They are largely left alone beyond asking where their master is.
"Anything yet," Marlene called out to one of the A.P.D. officers in wolf form.
The A.P.D. officer transforms back into his human form and responds, "The scent of people is two days old. Everyone that was here left in a hurry and has not once returned. The only scent of a living presence within the manor is that of the house elves."
Marlene grimaced. "Spread out! See if we can't find traces of where they fled!"
The three teams break down even further into teams of two. The Auror's swiftly spread out even more covering the ground. And though they found traces of dark magic, especially in the basement, whatever had been housed there had been taken. There were no dark magic artifacts left behind to be used as proof.
About to despair, the A.P.D. officers sounded out an alarm. The Auror's rushed out towards the back of the house. "What is it?" Marlene asked Sturgis Podmore and his team.
"Corpses," the square-jawed wizard grimaced. "Some are rather fresh and the oldest perchance a year old.
"How many?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked newly arriving at the scene.
"Sufficient to be concerning," Sturgis grimly answered pointing at the small red flags that the A.P.D officers scurrying the grounds were placed in tombs or patches of dirt.
The Auror's expressions grew tighter with each new body that is marked. By the end of it, the dead corpses numbered into the hundreds. "These all can't be Death Eaters," Marlene flatly said. "I would wager to guess muggles."
Sturgis's clenched his jaw in anger. "This isn't even killing for a purpose but for pure pleasure! What sickening madness is this?!" He spat on the ground. "They shame all of us!"
"Sturgis, but I do believe they are not in the least bit concerned about honor," Kingsley agreed in a tight voice trying to keep his anger at bay. "Shall we pay a visit to the muggle village below and see if anyone spotted anything?"
"We have nothing to lose," Marlene gestured to several A.P.D. officers. "Take a few A.P.D. officers and see if they can't pick up a trail of anyone down there. If perchance we are lucky one of the Death Eaters possessed lustful urges and sought to relieve his urges in secret."
Kingsley nods his head in understanding and motions for several A.P.D. officers to follow him. They move away from the graveyard, while Marlene addresses the remaining Auror's and A.P.D. officers. "It's going to be a long night. Everyone is to pick one of the marked graves and commence digging the old-fashioned way. We can't risk any cross-magic contamination of the bodies."
The Auror's and A.P.D officers grimace before shovels are conjured out of thin air to dig. It was going to be a back-breaking night for all of them. And if anyone had to take a trip to the bushes to hurl, it would be perfectly normal considering the state of the corpses.
As the team descended into the village of Sharmourn led by Kingsley, they transfigured their robes into muggle clothing. The villagers openly eye the strangers, especially the dark man. There weren't any of his kind in the village. In fact, many of them had never even seen a black man before except for on the telley.
Sensing the visitor's wariness towards him, Kingsley permits the A.P.D. officers to spread out, before heading to the only pub in town. Where there was drink, there were always loose tongues wagging. Drinking made for rather loose lips.
The pub smells of old cedar, and tobacco from smoking pints, while others hold their rolled-up cigarettes in their mouths as they play a round of gin. The conversation abruptly halts in the pub as Kingsley Shacklebolt enters the premise. Looks of blatant distrust and curiosity are sent his way as he heads toward the barkeeper.
"A pint of beer," Kingsley placed the somewhat unfamiliar wad of muggle money onto the counter.
"That will get you a round of beer," the grizzled barkeeper hmphed. A crotchety old man, but an honest man too.
"Then a round for my new friends," Kingsley smoothly earning brisk nods and even a few crooked grins.
"Hear, hear," a friendly chap with a brown tweed flat cap and gestures for Kingsley to join him and his friends at the pub.
"What brings you to Sharmourn, stranger?" The friendly chap asked.
"A missing person case," Kingsley smoothly answered telling no lies. "Have any of you noticed anything strange about the manor on the hill?"
"Oh, those people," grimaced a yellow-toothed man smoking a tobacco pipe. "They're a strange lot walking about in cloaks. They keep largely themselves for the most part."
"Downright haughty," piped in a bucktoothed man. "But Riches did say he saw one of them come down into the village in the dead of night to visit the good widow, Marsha," with a leer.
"Oh?" Kingsley asked as the barkeeper placed a pint of frothy beer in front of them.
It is silent for a moment as they enjoy their cold pint before the bucktoothed man wipes the white beer froth from his lips. "The good widow, Marsha, married young and was widowed young jus' a few years back. She's a right attractive woman, but she's never accepted any willing lads into her empty bed."
"And where might I find the good widow, Marsha?" Kingsley asked.
"Jus' past the village bend, her house is on the left," the friendly chap with a brown tweed flat cap answered. "Her house is the one with the budding primrose bushes."
"I am very much obliged, gents," Kingsley said in good nature, before chatting some more before excusing himself.
The rain had increased in strength as puddles formed on the road and in the mud. He strides through the town as many villagers lock their doors and windows upon spotting him coming down the road. He whistles to one of the A.P.D. officers who excuses themselves and hurries over.
"Report to Auror (Marlene) McKinnon that I may have found a trail," Kingsley instructed the A.P.D. officer who dutifully hurried away through the village and up to the mansion hanging over the hills overhead.