Beauty and the Beast of Malfoy Manor

The Curse

"She warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within."

-Disney's Beauty and the Beast

The curse spread throughout London. Its enchanted snow blanketed cars and taxis and turned the dirty city streets into an unseasonal Winter Wonderland.

For most.

When it reached the luxurious neighborhood of Knightsbridge, its winds picked up, upending a car and snapping a telephone pole. It was late at night, and the streets in such a well-to-do area were empty.

Finally, the storm's wrath settled on the home of one Edith McNair. Edith lived alone now. After the war, her husband and sons had been tried and convicted. They were now serving lifetime sentences in Azkaban for their crimes. Edith, however, had only been found guilty by association and had been let off with a one-year probation and wand check.

Edith sat in her drawing room, taking in her evening cup of tea. She stared down at The Daily Prophet's society pages and was horrified to see the headline, "Ginny Weasley, a survivor of the Battle of Hogwarts and the daughter of heroine Molly Weasley who ended the killing spree of Bellatrix Lestrange, has committed to tryouts for the Quidditch Minor Leagues."

A Weasley in the society pages! What was the world coming to? She withdrew in horror, tossing the paper in the wastebasket.

Just then, a vortex of wind and snow appeared in her drawing room. It dissipated, and a bent, old woman was left standing in front of her.

Quicker than should have been possible for a woman her age, Edith was at her feet with her wand drawn.

The bent woman smiled but not kindly. Her eyes flashed with white hot anger. "I think not."

Edith's wand was incinerated to ash in her hand. She let out a terrible scream and stepped back from the woman.

The woman advanced upon her. "Edith McNair, you are responsible for the death of a young muggleborn girl and her parents. You were also present at the heinous torture of the Longbottoms. You will answer for your crimes."

Edith drew herself up with as much dignity as she could muster with her back pressed against a glass case of antiques and family memorabilia. "I was found innocent. I don't know who you are, but you need to leave my--"

"You have been found guilty. You burned the body of the girl. Your judgment shall follow the same."

She snapped her gnarled fingers, and fire sprung to the expensive silk curtains and the oriental rug at their feet.

"No! No!" Edith shouted, trying to move to put out the flames. But her feet would not move as her home turned into a blistering inferno of smoke and flame.

The woman held her gaze. "Goodbye, Edith McNair."

***

After finishing its work in London, the curse and its executioner moved on to the wizarding prison, Azkaban, a feat no one would have believed possible. The facility was heavily warded with centuries of enchantments plus a battalion of guards. No one, without authorization, should have been able to get in or out.

Yet, the curse visited each cell, punishing the guilty and passing over the innocent. The guards slept deeply through this terrible storm.

The next morning, half of the prison population would be found dead in their cells. The guards would remember nothing.

***

Finally, the storm picked up steam, moving into the countryside. Its icy tendrils searched for its next victim. No matter how well they were concealed, no matter how spectacular their use of magic, each surviving Death Eater was found. One by one.