Chapter Text
Prologue 01
“Power does not corrupt. Fear corrupts... perhaps the fear of a loss of power.”
― John Steinbeck
October 31, 1981 - Midnight
It was wrong. All wrong, and he knew that he was not the only one in a sea of black robes who was not only angry, but disturbed and disgusted. There had always been rules in place. Even if you didn’t agree or like them, you followed the rules no matter your affiliation. Rules that all those with magic in their veins have followed since before the time of Merlin and written history.
There were magics out there that tended to get snarky and nasty when you broke the rules. Time and time again humans believed they could bend magic to their will, when in actuality it was the magic that bent humans. Humans were incredibly fragile.
A glance to his right showed immediately that he was not alone in these feelings. It needed to stop or they were all going to suffer the consequences of an insane Dark Lord.
“Lucius.”
“I know, Augustus.”
“We can’t do this.”
“I know, Augustus.”
Lucius Malfoy stood at his right. He had to be one of the prettiest men Augustus Rookwood had ever met with his ice blonde hair and aristocratic features. He was also petty, but he was not stupid. He was a smart and intelligent man. He was also a family man. Augustus quite liked the Malfoy family. He admitted to feeling envy for them and what they had that he did not. It wasn’t a hatred filled envy. He wasn’t jealous exactly. More of a warm envy. An envy to see them do well.
Before all of this, their families had been close. So close that they were basically family. They said it took a village after all. Augustus was never able to have what Lucius and many of his fellow brothers had. His first official week as an Unspeakable after finishing his Mastery studies saw to that when he was stripped of his biological ability thanks to the secret experiments that were being conducted.
As the newest member he had been forced to participate in an atrocious experiment that had been funded by the Lord of the Light, Albus Dumbledore, and many others who thought it was a good idea to come up with a way to change a man’s or woman’s fertility status. All in the name of good. When Augustus heard what they were doing, the very specific wording, and who was funding it he knew it wasn’t just about increasing fertility and the number of magical children being born. The Lord of the Light was looking for a way to curtail the number of Dark magical children being born.
However, no other Unspeakable working on the experiment would listen to his concerns. It didn’t help that the Head Unspeakable at the time was known to be in Dumbledore’s pocket and no one outside of the Department knew about these experiments. Augustus had been bound to all the oaths he took when he joined the Department of Mysteries. What happened in the experimental chambers of the Department of Mysteries stayed in the Department of Mysteries. He lost everything that day when the experiment ‘failed’ and was never able to regain what he’d lost. He had been forced to touch things that should not have been touched. The only comfort he had was that it affected the Light Lord too. All who were there the day of the failed experiment were effectively sterilized.
Augustus knew that tonight too was going to have lasting consequences. You wouldn’t see them right away, but in about ten years it was going to be apparent and it was going to terrify a community who were already shunned and ostracized for simply existing.
“What can we do?” Even one of the Dark Lord’s most staunchest followers leaned over to ask. Theodore Nott the II was another lucky man, though he didn’t know it like Lucius knew it. He took for granted what he had and what many people were never likely to get, but he was also not stupid.
Contrary to popular belief, they were not all zealots. It was only in the last ten years that things had begun to take a turn for the worst. For both sides. No one was innocent. Everyone was at a fault. Augustus just knew that in the coming years that there was going to be a hefty price to pay for breaking such intimate rules.
“Xeno walked away after looking up.” That didn’t surprise Augustus. Xeno was always paying attention to Astronomy, reading the planets and stars in the same way centaurs could. He wasn’t sure, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if Xeno had centaur blood in him.
“If something isn’t done we are all going to pay a price. Everyone. Not just us. We are breaking every law of magic that has ever been laid. We are about to destroy the very foundation of magic. We are betraying it.”
“What would you have us do then?” asked Lucius. “I’m all for it if you have a plan.”
“All I can think of right now, Lucius, is praying to magic and our ancestors because if we stand here and do nothing at all, we won’t be an ancestor to anyone. Pray that magic will show us the way.” If Augustus was among friends only he’d likely rake a hand through his loose black curls in frustration. However, given the fact they were in a public place with men who did not belong among their social circle kept him from the action. All high society Purebloods followed the same protocol rules, the most important boiled down to restraint when not with your family and allies. Restraint in public because the public expects perfection from Noble and Ancient families even if they argue against it. Unfortunately for Augustus, Lucius, and a few others it meant that even when in the presence of the Dark Lord, who was nothing more than a poor Halfblood, they could not be their true selves.
It was a grim reality they had found themselves in, but no one doubted Augustus’ advice. None except for their Dark Lord who had dabbled in bending the laws of magic, believing himself to be above them. In the end, he became cut from the very same cloth as the Lord of the Light, and no one knew what they were fighting for anymore.
It was a clear dark Samhain night. So clear that you could see the pearly shadows of Muggle ghosts and magic dancing and playing through the tombstones that were stuck up from the ground like teeth. The moon was near to full but the stars weren’t overshadowed by the glow. Augustus may not have Xeno’s skills in reading the skies, but he still knew it was bad to be here. If he could leave he would. There were twenty-four men in black robes gathered around, most had shed their masks because in a graveyard this full of magic there was nowhere to hide. Thankfully wives, heirs, and other family members were not forced to participate in this; were not forced to go against everything they are. Xeno was lucky in being able to leave before the magic rose and locked them all there. Augustus already knew the numbers the Dark Lord had insisted on being there was vital to whatever ritual he planned. The ritual called for thirty with three sacrifices. Three, seven, and their multiples were magically charged numbers. Anyone who took Arithmancy knew that.
The graveyard was encircled by a tall stone wall that was well aged and starting to crumble. Godric’s Hollow cemetery was older than the village itself. It sat next to an old style Cathedral. Most Light wizards and witches nowadays tended to gravitate toward the Christian religion brought in by the Muggleborns, forsaking their long held belief in magic and everything it brings. Believe it or not, religion was not an entirely Muggle idea or concept. Muggles had corrupted religion and blood beliefs over the centuries to the point where anyone with thick enough magical blood would no longer tolerate it. Muggles burned down everything good. Everything strong until there was nothing left but ashes and smoke. It was Helga Hufflepuff who had the Cathedral to Magic built. You could see the likeness of her work if you were magical and smart enough to do so. But now, it was overrun and taken over by the filth of Muggles’ one god religion.
They were crowded around the tombstones of three men long since dead, three brothers buried near each other. The Dark Lord had committed to the prophecy told to the Lord of the Light, overheard by Severus Snape. These three dead men were supposedly the main component for the ritual the Lord of the Dark planned in order to overcome it.
Dark and Light Lords were a special phenomenon. It all had to do with Ancient Magics and their rights. Even now, with so much knowledge gained they still didn’t understand Ancient Magic to its fullest. Texts explaining Ancient Magic were lost if there had been any at all. Merlin was not the ‘founder’ of Ancient Magic. He was simply the first wizard that they knew of to possess the ability to use it in Britain along with his counterpart Morgana. She was known as the Dark Lady while he was the Light Lord. Titles that had been documented by multiple magical families. The first born on British soil.
None of that history mattered now. What mattered was that the current Dark Lord was Tom Riddle, who insisted on being called Lord Voldemort, and the Light Lord was Albus Dumbledore. With the way magic tended to work - at least the modern magic they had today - Dark and Light were polar opposites. Those who were inherently Dark leaned toward the Dark and those inherently Light leaned toward the Light, drawn inexplicably to their respective lords. It shouldn’t have been about fighting, about trying to rule one over the other. It should be about maintaining balance.
Unfortunately, somewhere along the way that balance began to tip and now it had disappeared completely because both sides had lost their way. Dark and Light Lords were supposed to be guides, they were supposed to be the leaders and rally their followers. They were supposed to be a source that allowed magic in its truest and rawest form to flourish. They were supposed to keep the sanctity of magic pure and prevent it from crumbling.
It was like a house of cards and Augustus had the nastiest feeling that tonight that house of cards was going to crash down.
Even the wind knew that something was wrong because it’d gone still. A thread of heavy magic that was neither Light nor Dark started to creep around them. It caused each of the men in that graveyard to shudder involuntarily.
There was a bitter taste on their tongues as they felt the arrival of their Dark Lord. They heard the giggles and insane laughter of his second in command, Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black, and the sniveling groveling of the sycophantic Halfblood, Peter Pettigrew. So the whispered rumors were true, Pettigrew had betrayed the Light side and gave up the location of the hidden Potter family in hopes of rising in society. The man wanted to raise the Pettigrew family from their place among the commoners to join the circles of the Noble and Ancient families.
As soon as he saw the three together Augustus knew. He knew when those in the circle all dropped their chins to their chest that they were all praying and pleading to magic, not showing deference to the current Dark Lord. This was not the way magical blood was supposed to be spilled. It was a corrupt parody of the blood rituals Purebloods and those following the Dark practiced.
His magic no longer tasted right. No longer called to them. It didn’t kiss them or breathe a different kind of energy through any of them. You did not have to be smart or intelligent to feel how wrong all this was. You could be as lame as a flobberworm and still know.
Two bodies were floating after the three figures. Augustus could see the spill of crimson hair hovering by the end of the Dark Lord’s wand. He was the tallest and most imposing figure of the three. He stood in the middle, face taut and gaunt as his ancestors. His visage had corrupted over the years with more and more rituals and magics that were too vulgar to explain.
His only comfort in that moment was when he saw Rodolphus following a few steps behind the floating bodies, holding a bundle in his arms very carefully. You could see in the way he moved that he was unhappy. He did not agree to this, but he was in an even more of a bad spot than all of them combined. His wife was the Dark Lord’s right hand, and most desperate and loyal follower. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for his cause or goals. Rodolphus was probably the most unlucky man of them all, tied up in a contract that he could never be free from. Walburga Black had made sure of that when she killed her own father, Pollux, to take over the Black family Lordship. The one person who would have been able to break the contract without shaming the Lestrange family killed before Rodolphus could make the petition.
“My dear followers, I thank you for your loyalty and coming out tonight to witness a momentous occasion that will bring the Dark to the center.” His voice was like an ice cube running down their spine combined with a razor sharpness that was on the edge of piercing them. “All of you are about to see magic as it truly is… and you will be rewarded for your sustained loyalty.”
A flick of his wand and the two floating unconscious figures were brought down upon the bed of graves. Both of them were covered in bruises, but they were not bloodied. They were not allowed to be bled until the moment of sacrifice.
Augustus saw half of Bellatrix’s face had been blown off and partially caved in. From the blackness on the red haired woman’s hand and fingers, it was likely that Lily Potter had done the damage.
It was because of that blasted Prophecy that they were all where they were today. Augustus had advised the Dark Lord to leave it alone. He hadn’t been the only one either. He knew that others in the circle with him had also advised Riddle to ignore it. Prophecies only activated if the ones they were about decided to act on them. If anyone mentioned in a prophecy actively ignored it or did the opposite then it was mute. Magical prophecies only showed a possibility after all, not a certainty.
James Potter had always been suspected of having traces of Ancient Magic. It’d been talked about extensively due to his direct bloodline ancestor, Ignotus Peverell. Except it never showed up in the Gryffindor. For all intents and purposes James Potter was completely average, but Augustus knew that even average blood was still magic blood. The Potters may have been Light affiliated but when Dorea Black had married into the family and had Henry they had shifted the family magics from firmly Light. Augustus and other Dark Purebloods had heard that Cygnus Black the II had hoped to shift the Potters towards the Dark. Henry had unfortunately married a Light witch, as did their son, Fleamont. James Potter, Henry’s grandson and Dorea’s great-grandson, was firmly still Light affiliated and the first Potter in three generations to not marry a Light affiliated magical. Pollux Black, Dorea’s eldest brother and Sirius Black’s grandfather had hoped that with Sirius breaking from the family and becoming close friends with James would be another chance to pull the Potters to the Dark, but Walburga had ruined those plans.
James Potter’s robes were singed and one side of his face looked as though a wolf had gone berserk. Augustus hoped that someone from Fenrir’s pack hadn’t been involved tonight. He had nothing personally against Fenrir and his werewolves, but the wolf strain being introduced into this ritual the Dark Lord insisted on would only spell further trouble.
Voldemort stood there untouched and unbothered. There was not a scratch on him but Pettigrew was bleeding profusely from one arm that looked to be hanging a bit too low. Upon further inspection, Augustus saw that the shoulder had been disjointed. Likely what happened was Bellatrix and Pettigrew attacked and when James’ back was turned, dealing with Pettigrew, Voldemort caught the man from behind. From rumors he had heard while at Hogwarts, James had been average in every class but Transfiguration. The one thing he had going for him was his craftiness. He’d had the luck of the devil. It was like nothing could touch him. The move was quite underhanded for a Dark Lord who was supposed to be the most powerful Dark Lord.
Augustus’ eyes searched the row of black and noted that he was not the only one piecing it together. It meant that the Dark Lord was not as confident in his power as he should have been. It also meant that maybe magic wasn’t either or magic was on the edge of abandoning him and this is why he was doing this. He was convinced that the Prophecy was to blame and he had to do something to stop it.
“Crouch, lay the runes.” Another zealot. Barty Crouch Jr seemed to move out from the shadows as he left his place in the circle of Death Eaters. A grin that matched Bellatrix’s was on his face as Barty Crouch Jr used his wand to begin laying the rune foundation for the ritual. The man may have been a zealot but he had gained a Runes Mastery before falling under Voldemort’s hold.
No one else bothered to move, everyone kept their heads slightly bowed. Raised just enough to be defiant, but not to be noticed. Augustus watched as Crouch Jr slowly created a circle, starting from the north going clockwise, runes being drawn in white upon the ground as he went. He then moved inside of it and formed a triangle whose points came to within a millimeter of the circle but didn’t touch it, moving slowly to ensure straight lines. When he moved before Augustus and Lucius before going back to the start, Augustus tried to read the few near him without moving closer to the circle. Unfortunately, the runes were upside down to him and he had a hard time reorganizing them in his mind. If he had parchment and a quill he could have figured out what the ritual circle was going to do. Voldemort had only told them the basics of the ritual and the desired outcome, but not what would occur during it.
It was only the petrifying fear of being cursed by the Dark Lord that kept them all in their place and prevented them from moving, daring to breathe, or voice a protest. No one mentioned their missing member.
Before the ritual could even begin, Augustus felt a warning buzz like a swarm of hornets start as soon as the final rune was laid. It circled around his head, stinging into his ears. Warning him against being here willingly. He continued his prayers to magic silently.
Once the circle of runes had been completed it lit up. The verve was shining white and Lily Potter was placed at one point of the verve with James Potter at another. Augustus noticed Severus Snape shuffle from his place in the circle behind a few followers so that he was closer to Lily. He wondered if Lucius was correct in his worry that the man still loved the Muggleborn and would do anything for her. Given the man was marginally Dark affiliated and Lucius’ son’s godfather, a title of great honor considering he was neither Noble nor Pureblooded, Augustus understood how much Lucius wanted to be wrong. Wanted to believe that the man he had introduced into their circles, claiming he wanted to work towards reclaiming the honor the Prince family lost because of his mother, would not be easily swayed by the Light. With a gesture at the very end point closest to where Augustus stood with Lucius and Theodore, Voldemort turned to Rodolphus and ordered, “put the child at the final point.”
Only a fraction of hesitancy could be seen by the keen observer as Rodolphus moved forward with the child in his arms. He was wrapped in a blue knitted blanket and all Augustus could see was a mop of fine dark hair. He could feel a thread of Lucius’ anger next to him. No doubt this was hitting him harder than everyone else considering this child was nearly the exact same age as his own infant son, Draco, who was born a month before the Potter heir.
Just because they were Dark wizards did not mean they were cold and heartless. That was an entirely fabricated stereotype. They may not always use their emotions to make decisions and more often than not used hard logic, but this - this was atrocious because if it was successful then all the life in the magical child’s body would vanish and he would essentially burn up from the inside out.
Based on the runes and the verve lines of magic, Augustus theorized that Voldemort was planning to stand in the middle. While he may not have been a Runes Master like Crouch, having gone for a Masteries in Arithmancy and History, he had done well in the class while at Hogwarts, getting Os in his OWLs and NEWTs for the class.
Voldemort planned to sacrifice each of the elder Potters, causing the blood to run down the verve and flow toward the Potter child before he killed the boy. Voldemort would essentially consume the child’s and both the parents’ magic. The child was the lightning rod because he, like all infant magical children, was pure magic.
His breath stopped when he realized that Voldemort was actually planning on committing line theft. Augustus’ mind raced through arithmetic equations. A Dark Lord committing line theft on a Light affiliated family was going to create a giant clash of magic.
Stiffly Rodolphus crouched before where Augustus stood and looked up at him. The man was looking for some sign that he wouldn’t actually have to partake in this ritual. Unfortunately, Augustus hadn’t figured out a way to get himself out yet. At his subtle headshake to Rodolphus, Augustus could see the man swallow as he worked to mask his horror and distaste of the situation. He didn’t just drop the child down as Bella would have. Instead, he carefully sat him down. As soon as he did, Augustus could see that the child was awake.
Bellatrix made a disgusting cooing sound, moving closer, when the child wobbled, sitting up and looking around, the blanket fell loosely around the child. He’d specifically been placed with his back turned from his parents and they could see him clearly. The child looked up at all of them in curiosity.
He heard Lucius muttering low in French at his side, saying a prayer to magic.
“Get away from him!” Rodolphus snarled, snapping his fingers around Bellatrix’s extended wrist and throwing her out of the rune circle. “You taint the Dark Lord’s line with your blood or skin he won’t be pleased.” Augustus knew that wasn’t the reason he was yanking her away from the child.
“Indeed,” said Voldemort, glaring at the woman.
“So sorry, my Lord… I just want to be up close and personal to watch the fireworks!” Her eyes bulged wide.
“Stay on the other side of the tomb, Bella,” he ordered, gesturing her to stand behind where James Potter was laid.
“Yes, my Lord!”
The child couldn’t speak, likely he’d been silenced. He looked like he was making noises from his mouth. Poor child, Augustus thought. A sudden thought hit him like a high speed broom. “My Lord,” he stepped forward a fraction at that moment, arousing his fellow men, and making Bellatrix sneer at him.
“Yes, Rookwood?” Voldemort hissed in warning.
“You might want to remove the silencer from the child. If any other magic interferes with your ritual…” He didn’t know why he was suggesting this. It was typically not true. A silencer wouldn’t do anything. Just like the magical binds on Lily and James Potter would do nothing. But the Dark Lord was if nothing else, paranoid. “It could be catastrophic.”
The Dark Lord smiled coldly at him. “Your eye for detail never disappoints me, Rookwood,” he said pleased. “Rodolphus, remove the silencer.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Augustus took one step back, watching the child looking around and then up and around as if he was fascinated with something. A quiet child. He wasn’t crying at all. He should be screaming and squalling, even if silenced, and wondering why his parents weren’t responding to him. He should be scared. Augustus was man enough to feel scared for the child. Feel the horror that a child could never understand.
Rodolphus removed the silencer. “Stay like a good boy,” he patted the child on the head and removed himself from between the lines. He came to stand between Augustus and Theodore. “What was that about the silencer?” Rodolphus asked him in a whisper. “I may not be an Unspeakable but even I know that it wouldn’t do anything to the ritual.”
Augustus shook his head slightly, “later.” He was thankful that Rodolphus and the others didn’t push for more. He didn’t have a great answer in anycase. Just a gut magical feeling. “Just continue praying to magic. Magic is listening.”
“Shiny…” the child babbled looking around as he brought his fingers up to his mouth to chew on. He stretched out his other hand and pointed in the air. “Shiny…”
“Barty, Peter. You know your positions. You are to bleed the Potters at the exact same time. Not a second sooner and not a second later, do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord,” they chorused simultaneously.
“I wanna do it, I wanna do it!” Bellatrix bounced up and down behind the tombstone she’d been ordered to stand behind.
“I need delicacy, Bella and you have far too many injuries.”
She pouted, but said nothing as she rocked forward eagerly.
That was when Voldemort disrobed completely. In the naked light of the mostly full moon, Augustus could see the lack of humanity like an armor surrounding the man. He was chalk white from head to toe with a scattering of blue veins. It did not look porous like a human’s skin. It was not silky soft or smooth, but like leather that had been stretched over a canvas and then heavily bleached. He stepped forward into the center of the circle. He brought a silver knife to his wrists and made a slit, one on each side and then nodded sharply at both Peter and Crouch.
Peter seized James by the back of the neck. Crouch had grabbed Lily by her hair, forcing both of them up to where they were almost sitting.
The baby by now was clapping and reaching for the soft dewy grass and pulling on the clovers. He was intent on something on the ground. Likely a beetle or a bug. He was giggling and in a world of his own. Augustus still didn’t know why he insisted that the child be unsilenced. Maybe it was for their own punishment because they deserved it for just standing around. All of them were too weak to do anything. They could not stand against the Dark Lord. He had all of them by the throat. He had tainted them all with magic that was not Dark, but something else entirely. Augustus hesitated on using the word evil. It was such an overused term and it had lost its meaning a long time ago, but it wasn’t far off.
“Shiny, shiny…” the child kept repeating as he started to place bits of the grass he had pulled up around himself.
Power flowed like air and breathed life into the still and silent cemetery. It began to raise all the fine hairs on their skin causing them to stand up straight and at attention. Lily and James Potter’s blood had been spilt at the same time as ordered and they fell to the side as the blood began to rush out of them. A hush of familiar Light magic burned the night at the edges. A part of Augustus noted that Pettigrew had cut deeper into James than Crouch had done on Lily. It was unlikely going to affect the ritual, but it did mean that James bled out at a faster rate.
Lord Voldemort was chanting a ritual in a language that he couldn’t identify. It sounded more made up. Like Latin, Greek, and Parseltongue mixing in a way that should not have been possible.
As the power bloomed, Augustus watched fascinated as the blood raced down the lines as if it was being guided. Moving where the runes demanded. It ran too fast, too hot as the heat began to rise with every syllable that Lord Voldemort enchanted. It was heading right to the child who suddenly leaned back to look around before he let out a sound, slapping his small hands into the ground at the same moment that the bloodlines connected with him.
“SHINY!”
“What-!?” It was all they heard from the Dark Lord before the magic built so fast and hot like a spill of lava then exploded.
The child screamed and Augustus reacted as if someone had possessed his body. He snatched the toddler at the same time that the magic made full contact.
“NO!”
“My Lord!”
All of the world lit up, blinding them all. Then the magic dropped the temperature to a freezing point as Lord Voldemort screamed.
Augustus tried to shield the child who was now screaming in real terror. Everyone else fell back or dropped to their knees as the pressure of the magic built and built until it filled the circle and the graveyard. He could feel something pulsing at the terrified toddler who gripped at him, squalling for his parents.
“We gotta get outta here…” Rodolphus somewhere through the haze of magic and power screamed out. “Augustus!”
The Dark Lord was continuing to scream, but they couldn’t see him. It was like the magic was blinding them all. Nothing but a white wall of pure magic. There was nothing to see. No sense of smell. Nothing except for sound and a pressure that compounded into their ears and made the insides drum on the verge of bleeding.
Then it was over. As fast as it came and as long as it seemed to last, it was over in a flash. All their senses came rushing back too quickly. When they could see again, none could be sure that what they saw could be truly explained.
Lord Voldemort was dead. His whole body had been burnt to a crisp within the triangle of power. Within the circle Lily and James Potter were still, prone and bleeding, and then there was the child.
Augustus rocked back and let go of him, lowering him back to the ground and drawing back enough to see the child passed out though he looked unharmed. A soft glow seemed to emit from him and on his forehead, beneath the jet black hair, was a small little scar. A lightning bolt.
That wasn’t all. Augustus realized that he was kneeling deep in a magic that he could feel but could not see. He felt as if his knees were in a puddle of water and he knew from the records that Ancient Magic could show up in those who possess the capability to wield it like a small glow or something shiny. It would shine like silver raindrops. He’d seen images and art of such a phenomenon in his family vaults but truly seeing it was something else entirely.
“We have to go! Bring the child,” Lucius was suddenly right there. Augustus didn’t hesitate while the confusion and chaos spread quickly. “Rodolphus! Theodore! Oberon! Where are Morpheus and Callum?”
“We’re with you.”
Augustus scooped the small delicate child back into his arms and he felt Lucius’ hand grab his robes, helping to direct him backwards. The handful of them backed away from the chaotic sea of black robes that surrounded the circle. Augustus’ eyes narrowed when he saw Severus rushing to Lily Potter’s side in the confusion, wand firing spells towards the witch while cradling her body close. Bellatrix ran for Voldemort and Pettigrew shifted into a rat before running off. He lost track of Crouch Jr but it was clear that others were apparating out, getting as far from the failed ritual as they could. Who knows who will show up with the blast of magic that occurred. Someone shot an Avada Kedavra across the circle that hit a random gravestone. Augustus could only suppose the purpose was to try and confuse what happened there tonight, the killing curse not only killed living humans and animals but the magic ate through atmospheric magic along its path. He kept backing up, smudging some the runes as he moved, watching the scene, and trying to capture as much information as he possibly could before he turned and apparated a second after Lucius let him go with coordinates whispered in his ear.