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Along a dark lane of houses which were built tightly together, Regulus Black—the youngest out of the two sons of Walburga and Orion Black and the younger sibling of Sirius Black (who he hadn't considered a brother for a long time)—walked out of 12 Grimmauld Place in the dead of night

Leaving to never return again.

A loud snap! echoed through the still air an eerie wind blew through the trees making their leaves rattle. Momentarily the air seemed that the world had gone cold, like all the joy and what was happy had been sucked from everything.

A woman peaked her head out, from the door which Regulus had left from, to inspect the chilling lane before her. The woman's powder white hair swayed in the air for a bit, she looked left and right, distracted she steadily placed her palm on her unborn child after she felt a kick.

A rustling of old Autumn leaves caught the woman off guard, so like any fully fledged witch she aimed her wand at the threat, narrowing her eyes to spot her target—she paused, her face softened before she slowly made her way down steps to the pavement.

"I didn't expect you to come now" The woman with the white hair said, the dark lighting didn't help with her bad eyesight, in turn she gently tapped her toes on the pavement as she approached the person "what are you doing here?"

"I thought Regulus had told you" Said the person, his voice sounded odd to the woman.

"How would you have known what Regulus had told me?" The woman inquired, the wind began to pick up, her robes began to flow in the wind letting in leaves which touched the woman's toes, making her shiver—an instinct took over; she slowly backed away. They're here she told herself.

"He is abandoning you, he knows that your Lord Voldemort will fall, he wants to see you perish" the man said, the woman had backed enough to touch the railings of the steps.

"No!" The ghostly woman yelled, disbelieving. "Regulus would never do such a terrible thing—you—you're lying, The Dark Lord won't fall—" The woman froze, she realised who she was talking to, her wand hand flicked up but the man was quicker, her wand arched in the air and landed in the bushes nearby.

"Now, where is your child?" Questioned the man, in a flighting bout of fear the woman attempted to spin around but her heel caught on her robes—her body fell back—she yelled in pain as her spine hit the stone steps with a violent snap.

"You'll never get my child!" The woman laughed darkly, spitting blood at the man's shoes "Leave now, before I call for the Dark Lord" The woman hissed, the man stood on one of the steps, he rested his elbow on his knee before he lifted the cloak over her white maternity dress under that her abdomen was covered.

"She hasn't been born yet" The man muttered, he took in a deep breathe as he then stood straight up at the bottom of the stairs again. The man looked up to the sky, dark clouds surrounded the area. He slowly turned away, trying to quickly think of a way to get the child.

"No! You can't leave me out here!" The woman cried, desperately spitting blood before she gasped and chocked on the blood in her throat, A dark cloaked figure was hovering toward her, the woman felt a frosty chill shivering her skin as a hand, which looked as if it had been rotting in water, latched to her neck "No..." she murmured weakly as she struggled to grasp the wrist of her assailant to unwrap the clammy fingers from her neck.

The man took in a deep breathe before a loud click alerted the woman of his disappearance, a swarm of the cloaked figures began to feed off her essence. Her soul was streaming out of her  like a translucent cloth slowly being consumed by the cloaked beings as though drinking life giving water in a hot desert.