A cool wind blew across the sea, whirling the grey water into formidable waves. White horses reared their heads before crashing to the shore, washing the sand clean. The wind blew across the beach, whipping the loose sand into little eddies and carrying with it the faintest drizzle. Senan shivered as it hit him, and pulled his cloak tighter around him. Grey clouds hung low in the sky, smothering the landscape and threatening lonely walkers with a sudden downpour. Fabulous Irish summer, isn’t it, he thought sardonically.

He had never been keen on solitude, but he was beginning to feel its attractions. Better to be struggling along the beach than to be hiding at home, waiting anxiously by the radio for news of the War. His parents were so keyed up that they had barely noticed him leave. He couldn’t see what was so hugely significant for them anyway. If the Dark Lord won – which appeared to be the way things were going right now – all well and good; if not, he and his parents hadn’t been very involved in the whole thing anyway. His sister was a different matter. Death Eaters, even new ones, might be in danger if the other side won.

His mind drifted back to that day, the one which stood out so clearly in his memory. A visitor, one of the Dark Lord’s followers, had come to talk to his family. A gaunt, exhausted-looking young man, whose skin was almost as pale as his hair. He had spoken of the worthiness of the Dark Lord’s cause, the glory to be obtained from joining him, and the satisfaction of helping to restore the world to its rightful order. Senan could still see him in his mind’s eye, leaning forward across the table, face flushed from fervour, overly bright eyes shining from his sunken face. His talk had so inspired Síofra that she had decided to join the Dark Lord; to become a Death Eater. Oh yes, Draco Malfoy had had a very real effect on the de Paor family. Senan hadn’t seen his sister for the last few months; apparently, she was not as yet trusted enough for her to have taken any steps to support the Dark Lord. She was now his parents’ pride and joy, and indeed many of his peers envied him the opportunity to show support for the Dark Lord. He too was proud of her, and agreed with many of the Dark Lord’s ideals, but… there was always a but. He had nothing against the Dark Arts, as they were termed, but some of the methods the Dark side was using to achieve their end were a little extreme.

The sound of an excited bark came to him on the wind. Turning his head, he searched the sandhills for the source of the noise. His overlong, dark brown hair blew into his eyes. Scowling, he shoved it back. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a russet shape streak across the grey sand, tearing towards the beach.

“Genius! What are you up to?� The wind whipped his words away before they were barely out of his mouth, but the dog skidded to a halt, sand flying up from between ungainly paws.

“Get back here!� Genius wagged her tail and hurtled towards the water’s edge. Growling about the stupidities of dogs, his in particular, Senan trudged after her. She was a Red Setter, a pedigree, naturally. Nothing that wasn’t of the purest blood would be allowed to grace the draughty manor that was his home. But Genius was living proof that good breeding did not mean good brains.

There was a saying he knew of that said dogs resemble their owners. There certainly was a similarity between the two, with their rangy frames and dark, reddish-brown hair. Genius’ long face was also somewhat reflected in Senan’s, although his pale blue eyes differed sharply from her soft brown ones.

His parents had not been amused last year when he had arrived back from his last year in Durmstrang with a puppy, and a Muggle bred one at that. However, what with the political situation and turmoil at the time, they weren’t really too concerned about their son’s pet. So long as Genius kept out of their way, they tolerated her.

Síofra was another problem altogether. For some reason, his older sister had taken an aversion to Genius. She particularly objected to her name.

“Why did you call that idiotic dog Genius? It makes no sense!� she had lectured him. Sometimes, he wondered if Genius had eaten Síofra’s sense of humour, as she had so many other things. In some ways, Síofra’s absence had been a blessed relief.

A joyous bark made him lift his head to see what trouble his dog had thrown herself into now. When he located her glossy shape, he almost screamed in frustration.

“Genius! You eejit of a dog!� He charged down the hill, slipping and sliding on the loose sand until he lost his balance and tumbled the rest of the way. He leapt to his feet, swearing and shaking sand from his new black robes. He staggered on until he reached the water’s edge. Just where the waves lapped against the sand, Genius had found a large dead fish and was rolling in it enthusiastically, showing every sign of enjoyment. Senan lunged at her, attempting the difficult task of grabbing her new leather collar, which by now was probably forever ingrained with the stench of fish, while avoiding touching any part of her body. His struggles were fruitless, as she threw herself on him ecstatically, knocking him over, and began licking his face. Gasping and gagging, he managed to extricate his wand. He hated being short. If he was just a bit taller, he could have withstood Genius’ barrage and he wouldn’t stink of fish. But being, to be kind, rather vertically challenged and underweight for a boy of nearly nineteen, her onslaught had overwhelmed him within seconds.

“Petrificus Totalus!� Genius froze immediately into uncharacteristic stillness. He scrambled out from underneath her. He took the opportunity to perform a quick Cleaning Charm on her before restoring her to her usual bouncy self. He clipped the lead onto her collar, his nose wrinkling as he did so – no Cleaning Charm would ever remove that odour – and began to drag her away from the cursed place.

Too late, he realised that he was in a Muggle area. His head snapped up, and he scrutinised his surroundings, screwing his eyes up against the gathering wind. The beach was deserted; the only sign of life was a small town huddling along the top of a cliff. He continued into the hills, Genius almost pulling his arm out of its socket as she lunged at every shadow. Eventually, he reached a secluded area behind a precarious mound of sand. He grabbed Genius’ collar, grimacing as he did so. Before she had a chance to wriggle away, they Apparated.

Senan felt the now familiar compression and tightening. With a loud crack, he reappeared just outside the small wood behind his house.

He snapped Genius’ lead off and she galloped into the trees in pursuit of several members of the local rabbit population. She had yet to catch one, but that didn’t stop her crashing through the foliage in hot, or at least lukewarm, pursuit.

Senan strolled towards the house, swinging the lead casually. He entered through the back door, something his parents would have disapproved of. Their son, entering like house elf? The scandal!

Grinning to himself, he strode through the cool, high ceilinged corridors. The house was unusually silent, except for his echoing footsteps. A cloak of uneasiness settled slowly on him. His gait became less certain, and he slowed his walk. There was no sign of his parents anywhere. His brow furrowed; it wasn’t like them to be so quiet, and there should at least be the ever-present sound of the radio.

“Mum?� His voice reverberated from the walls, but he heard no reply. “Dad?� Still nothing. He peered into the drawing room, their usual habitation. The heavy scarlet curtains still fell across the window, stirring in the breeze. Everything was as it should be, save for a small coffee table which seemed to have fallen over. Normally, Senan would have dismissed this as carelessness on the part of a house elf. Now, it served to increase his dread.

He backed slowly out of the room, and slowly climbed the main stairs, tensing at every creak. The feeling that he was being watched grew on him at every second. The house was no longer the familiar home he had grown up in; it was a malignant entity, bent on his destruction. The thick rose carpet, before so luxurious, now seemed designed to hamper his movement in the event of flight. At every corner enemies lurked; each shadow hid an assassin. By the time he reached his room, he was on the verge of a nervous collapse.

He almost leapt in the door, so eager was he to reach the comfort of his bedroom. He collapsed on the four-poster, relaxing against its soothing green covering, and reached out to flick on the radio by the bed. Hopefully, the familiar sound of the Wizarding Wireless Network broadcaster’s voice would calm him down a bit.

He froze as the sounds washed over him. His heart, only just beginning to slow from its frantic beat, turned to ice in his chest.

“…whole wizarding world is celebrating the final defeat of You Know Who. The Ministry are at this very moment rounding up anyone connected with the Dark side, and have ordered the immediate execution of all Death Eaters. It is hoped that these measures will prevent another rising…�

Senan’s head was spinning. This can’t be possible, he thought wildly. Everything he had expected for the future was gone in an instant. His sister ….Síofra was dead, or soon would be. Total shock gripped him. This couldn’t be true. It had to be a nightmare.

Where are my parents? His stunned brain concentrated on that one point. If he could just find someone, a friend, a relative, anyone, things would be okay. He couldn’t face being alone any more. Suddenly, realisation hit him: …rounding up anyone connected with the Dark Side…. They must have considered his family a threat, with a Death Eater sister. Bewilderment flooded him. How could this have happened? His family hadn’t done anything; they wouldn’t have become involved at all if it wasn’t for Malfoy.

Malfoy. All other thoughts fell away, leaving him only with a burning anger. Malfoy had done this. He had caused this. He was responsible for this.

He would pay for this.

Fury overpowered shock, and he stormed out of the room, a red haze of rage preventing him from thinking clearly. He would find Malfoy, and he would kill him. Senan strode towards the stairs, barely noticing the unfamiliar figure at the foot of them. He barely had time to register surprise before the figure raised a wand, crying “Stupefy!�. As the jet of red light flew towards him, his last thought was, I will get Malfoy for this.

And then there was darkness.