From the moment Moody entered her office, Amelia knew nothing good was going to come. The man rarely bothered with social niceties, such as knocking on doors or announcing his presence. She eyed the man in front of her and sighed. It's not like I enjoy resting either way, she thought, sarcastically, waving goodbye to her early dinner.

"Whatever happened just spit it out," she ordered the scarred Auror.

Another chill slithered through her spine when the man closed his eyes, looking defeated. Without any word, he produced a folder from his trench coat and handed it to the woman. Amelia opened the folder; the gasp that escaped her lips was the only sound in the room.

"They were attacked approximately three weeks ago," Moody began explaining. "A week ago, the Carrows complained about not being able to contact Travers senior or his wife, and their house being empty. Considering who was making the report, we didn't bother with it until one of my Aurors heard Travers' secretary complaining about her boss not coming to his office for more than two weeks. We decided to take action. Kingsley led the inspection and that's what they found... Both were tortured with the cruciatus, the exact same way that Alice and Frank were."

"Did you find any other clue?"

"Absolutely nothing. For a moment, I thought the Lestranges were responsible, but the crime scene was much cleaner than what they would have left. The copycats are getting better, and much bolder... We no longer know what to think about them," Alastor admitted with a heavy sigh.

"Why's that?"

"Look at the last pictures."

Amelia did so, turning the pages until the last pictures were shown. Emotion drained from her visage, leaving behind a serious and somewhat pale Minister.

"That is right, Travers senior and his wife were Death Eaters," Moody confirmed, allowing his posture to sag, revealing how tired he was.

"We need to keep this quiet," Madam Bones muttered. "This scandal could harm Marcus' career even though it's just beginning... How many people are aware of this?"

"Of the crime, pretty much the whole department. Of the mark, Kingsley and the two of us. The bodies were already transported to Saint Mungo's, but no healer is allowed to examine them until I arrive."

"Great, I'll contact John so he examines them in person. Whatever the results are, we're going to hide their allegiances," Amelia said, closing her eyes afterwards and waiting a few moments before speaking. "I don't know how to tell Marcus..."

"He's a good kid, but overall, he's a responsible adult. He needs to know the whole truth, Amelia."

"I know... It's just – he's so young and already deals with so much bullshit. He doesn't deserve to go through this."

"No, he doesn't. But then again, good people rarely deserve what happens to them," the man muttered, looking grim.

"I'll call him, but please, you tell him."

Without waiting for an answer, Amelia cast a patronus. The adults waited in silence, unwilling to start any further conversation. Minutes seemed to stretch for too long until; at last, the office's door was opened. Marcus entered the room with quick steps, wearing a slightly worried expression.

"Is there a problem?" the anxious male asked, looking ready to take action.

"Take a seat, Marcus," Madam Bones told the newcomer, unable to look into the boy's eyes.

"Did I do something wrong?" Marcus asked, tilting his head in confusion and sitting on the closest available space.

"Not at all, lad, but there's news that concerns you," Moody began, eyeing the thick folder in the woman's hands before looking away. "There's no gentle way of saying this, so I'll tell you without sugar-coating it... Your parents died approximately three weeks ago." The young man's eyes widened at the news, then his brows furrowed in disbelief. "We believe the attacker is the copycat who's been giving us so much trouble lately."

"Is there any particular reason why they were attacked?" Marcus asked in a raspy voice. His unfocused eyes made Amelia itch with the desire to comfort him.

"Both of your parents bore the Dark Mark," Moody stated with no hesitation, observing the young man's reaction. "You knew..."

"I had my suspicions," Marcus agreed, not moving a millimetre.

"I guess that's why you cut almost all your contact with your parents."

"It is. I tried to lead them through the right path and they tried to lead me through the path they chose. In the end, our distance was inevitable. The last time I spoke with them was almost two months ago..." the young man admitted with a sigh.

"We will keep this as quiet as possible," Amelia announced after a brief moment of silence. "Unless you want the details to be public."

"Even though we became almost strangers, they are... were my parents," Marcus muttered, still looking perplexed by the news. "Though I want to keep all the shady details far away from public knowledge... Moody, what are your suspicions about those criminals?"

"I'm no longer sure about what it is that they want," the man admitted as a scowl marred his features. "They seem to be a group of extremists with an unknown goal. Maxime's attack was brutal and this one was no kinder. First, they followed the pattern of the McKinnons' massacre and then of the Longbottoms. If it wasn't because of the Aurors who were killed and how organized they are, we would have believed them to be lunatics who admire the Lestranges."

"Did the Aurors find anything in my parents' house?"

"Kingsley didn't allow them to explore, using the lack of a search warrant as an excuse. We won't touch a thing if you don't want us to, lad. It's your house after all."

Marcus nodded at the man, but remained silent for a few moments. "Please, search the house. We might find information about Voldemort and his movements."

"I will only take my most trusted Aurors," Alastor promised, knowing the boy would not change his decision.

"Take the week off," Amelia said after a prolonged silence, her tone leaving no room for arguments. "I'll help you organize the funeral, don't worry about the details."

"Thank you, Minister, but I don't think it would be wise for me to have much free time in this situation," the young man answered, giving his boss a forced smile. "I'll do some paperwork in my office before heading out. Besides, what would you do without me?" he tried to joke, but ended up grimacing at his own words.

"Marcus, you know that you can count on me, right?" Amelia asked when the dispirited boy stood up.

"I do, you've been really kind to me... I just need time alone to assimilate the situation."

Amelia hugged the young man, perhaps applying too much pressure, but it was her way of showing affection. Marcus accepted the hug and the woman's heart broke at how unsure her young friend seemed to be.

"Whatever you need, my doors are always open," she whispered. Squishing him one last time, she let go and watched the young man who had experienced far too much leave the office.

"He reminds me so much of you," Alastor commented, his posture looking relaxed, for a change. "You were also very young when you lost your family. Only twenty-one when you began taking care of your niece. No one was expecting you to, yet you did... I remember it took you a while to recover."

"Well, you were a great support. It was hard to go on without the family that had loved me so much," was the woman's monotonic answer. The 'unlike Marcus,' was easily inferred from the way she was glaring at the pictures of the folder.

All the pictures from that page showed the same thing, though from different angles, which perhaps made it even more disturbing. A cage. Nothing big or special, but it was swarmed with numerous scribbles. Some were about to fade while others looked as fresh as if they were just written.

I am Marcus. That was the phrase that was repeated over and over again with different degrees of penmanship. In a way, it was a horrific yet heart-wrenching piece of art, depicting the pain of a young child who turned into an adult.

"If they weren't dead, I would have killed them myself," Amelia muttered as a lone tear fell down her cheek.

"I would have helped you. Knowing that they suffered until the last second isn't enough punishment compared to what those monsters did to their own child."

"Alastor, get rid of anything that may harm Marcus," the Minister stated without hesitation.

"Will do."

It was a normal day at work for Marcus Travers. Go to the Ministry's archives in the morning in order to speak with the elves organizing the place in case they had found anything interesting. Among the dozens of forgotten books and strange manuscripts, the blueprints of the Ministry were yet to be found, much to his distaste. Then, the customary meeting with the Minister took an awkward turn.

Yes, Marcus knew about his parents'... demise, per se. The awkward part had been utterly forgetting about the incident. Well, at least he wouldn't need to worry about any suspicions falling on him. He opened the door of his office and raised an eyebrow at the intruder sitting on his couch, sipping tea as if they owned the place.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, not even pausing to glance at the trespasser.

"How cold," a sultry voice muttered. "Not even a greeting or a 'how are you, Camille?'"

"Well, considering how much you seemed to hate me the last time we met, I think it would be pointless. Besides, you're still alive, a sign of decent health. Now leave before I call the Aurors."

"But I guess you want to do the honours yourself," the woman snapped, frowning at him. "You've changed so much. Before, you were the perfect gentleman, and now..." she left the phrase lingering, pouting in an effort to convey her disappointment.

"If you have something to say, speak before I kick you out. Unlike you, I have things to do," Marcus told the woman, taking different folders from his desk and not even gracing her with a look.

"I came here to give you my condolences."

"So you heard," Marcus commented while concentrating on a paper.

"Of course I did, I'm training to be a healer, after all... I know you had something to do with their deaths." This declaration only earned a raised eyebrow. The man kept working, ignoring the intruder without problems. "There's nothing you want to say?"

"Why should I?"

"So you're admitting it," Camille accused, scowling at him.

"When did I say that?" Marcus retorted, riling up the female.

"Your mum was acting weird lately. From talking about how disappointed she was in you, she began praising 'her only son'. Your dad was no different. Suddenly, he began doing things no pureblood would ever do. I know you did something to them," she hissed. The young man didn't miss her tense posture or that she seemed to be holding something in her pocket.

"Perhaps they changed."

"They didn't!" she screamed at last, rising to her feet. "You did something to them!"

"Why don't you think they changed? Is it because of their attitude or because of their allegiances?" he answered, almost smirking at the comic way in which the intruder's eyes widened. "We both know who they served. Now tell me this, dear Camille, why are you so interested in my parents' deaths? Who sent you?"

With every word, he approached the woman, who lost all her colour.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered, taking a step back.

"Bingo," Marcus muttered, smirking at her. "Did your father promise you the Mark in change of some kind of blackmail material over me?"

"I have enough evidence to prove you did something to your parents," Camille wheezed, trying to look intimidating.

"Then go ahead, present it to the Aurors. I really want to see what happens."

"Why are you so cruel to me?" she asked at last, collapsing on the couch. "Before, you were so kind, always taking care of me."

"People change," Marcus said with an uninterested tone.

"You would have never spoken to me this way had Potter not come along!" she accused him, recovering her anger.

"My parents would have killed me."

"You used to love me until he came along!"

"Seriously? Can't you just say why you are here instead of throwing accusations? I really am a busy person."

"Let's date again and I won't present the evidence I have against you," she stated, trying to look calm.

"Ah, so that's it," Marcus acknowledged, somewhat amused at the situation. "My parents promised something to you while we were dating and now you still want it."

"In a way," Camille admitted without the slightest hint of shame. "But I also want you."

"We broke up years ago, get over it."

"We wouldn't have broken up have Potter not crossed our paths!" she growled in frustration.

"Dear Camille, I don't think you'll ever be able to understand," Marcus muttered as he stepped closer to the girl, no longer willing to tolerate her tantrum. "Harry opened my eyes and now I'm able to see the truth. I tried to do the same for you, but you refused to see the reality and decided to continue believing in the stupidity of pureblood superiority. My dear Camille, that alone would have made me leave you for your ignorance makes you – what's the word? Unappealing, disgusting, revolting, abhorrent... abominable, that's it," he said with a smile, while delicately lifting the tearing girl's chin. "Let's not forget about my parents forcing me to date you."

"You loved me," she whispered, her voice breaking in the last word.

"We had fun," Marcus admitted, smiling at her. "However, you have nothing to offer me to make me wish to remain by your side. While you're pretty enough, Daphne eclipsed you from a young age. While you're clever, you'll never be able to match my friends. While you're the perfectly-bred pureblood wife, you're nothing that a real man would ever want... You are nothing for me, dear." With those cruel words, tears began falling down the woman's cheeks and a ragged sob escaped her chest. "Go back to your father and tell him he should find an easier target," he whispered into her ear.

The man walked to his desk and grabbed a few folders before walking towards the door.

"I will give you one last piece of advice," he said, not reacting at the woman's state. "The path you are walking on will only destroy you. Open your eyes before it's too late."

Marcus exited his office. After taking a few steps, he heard a pop and looked to the side.

"Why did you let her in?" he almost whined, scowling at his elf.

"Master didn't eat breakfast again, so I thought it would be a good lesson," Tubby answered, a cheeky smile plastered on her face.

"Allowing my crazy ex to try to blackmail me is not beneficial."

"Don't worry, master, I deactivated the listening device she was carrying and she has no access to any of your documents."

"I meant it for me," he muttered with a slight pout. "Never mind, let's go to the castle. Aunt Eleadora will be happy to have us early, for a change."