With trembling fingers, Reginald gently closes his wife's eyes, before placing one last kiss on her still-warm hand. Rising to his feet, he paused to glance at the silently weeping groom, the young Lucius Malfoy cradling the still-warm corpse of his father to his chest. For all that the Malfoys were and appeared to be cold, they did in fact possess a strong love for each other. Abraxas Malfoy was many things, but he most certainly did care for his one and only child. And in turn, his one and only son, Lucius, equally cared for him just as strongly.
A loud sniffle can be heard at his side causing Reginald to turn towards the stunning bride. Instead of smiling with joy at her wedding, the now Narcissa Malfoy is cradled in the arms of her mother, Druella Black. Druella's eyes are wide with terror and shock as she rocks her youngest daughter back and forth in comfort. Not even conscious of it herself, Druella croons an almost soundless lullaby that she used to hum to her three girls when they were still small. It works its magic as Narcissa subconsciously ceases to make any loud sniffling sounds.
Glancing away from the private moment, Reginald turns his gaze towards the area where the guests were once upon seated at. Many chairs are on the ground, while others are broken into pieces in the wedding guests rush to escape or that of the hexes thrown between the mysterious attackers and other wedding guests.
The scent of blood and dark spells fills the air. A green sickly light belonging to a hideously, evil emerald star that hangs overhead bathes the area in its malicious light. Nothing seems to be recognizable anymore for in the space of mere minutes everything had changed.
A loud cry causes Reginald to turn his gaze away from the colossal skull in the sky and in the poisonous snake emerging from its mouth and curling about. There in the guest seats on the bride's side reserved for the numerous Rosier relatives, one of the male cousins of the widow Druella Black stands stiff while his wife weeps loudly over the utterly still figure of their eldest son, T. Rosier.
The wife, Mrs. Rosier's loud wails are heartbreaking as she cradles the corpse of T. Rosier in her arms. Her son was merely a boy of fourteen, who had been looking forward to the Quidditch World Cup and his upcoming fourth year at Hogwarts. And now her son would never age past his fourteenth year destined to remain a mere boy in the memory of others, and never to become a man with a family of his own.
At her side, her husband, Rosier Sr. blankly stares at the corpse of their eldest son. His boy, who had been so happy that morning. His son, who despite his burly figure was so very gently with his younger brother and sister. His son, who had been happily writing to him all through his third year explaining to his father. his fears and his great joy at finding new friends, after the departure of his best friend, Evan Avery.
Rosier Sr.'s and Reginald's eyes meet for a moment as both men stiffly nod to each other in understanding of each other's grief. Rosier Sr.'s gaze drops first as Reginald's eyes turned towards the wreckage ahead. There is a mix of relief, and anger at finding that most of the corpses on the ground are that of the mysterious attackers from the Malfoy Ball rather than that of the guests.
There were more than a few Auror's in attendance as guests, while others had been accompanying high functioning members of the Ministry of Magic that had been in attendance. The instant the first curse had been thrown the Auror's accompanying Ministry Officials had swiftly apparated away with their targets, while the remaining trained Auror's had wordlessly paired up to fight back to back against the slew of attackers. As a direct result, the assailant's volley of attacks had been mostly neutralized. And any resulting fatalities on the guest's side were due mostly to stray hexes and curses hitting the wrong objective. Those that had been injured had already been taken away to St. Mungo's to be treated.
Much more in control of his emotions now, Reginald turns back to face the softly weeping young groom. Reginald knelt down next to Lucius Malfoy and gently, but rather firmly pried the corpse of Abraxas Malfoy from his son's arms. Lucius despite being in shock scrambled forward unwilling to let go of his father.
"There, there, son," Reginald soothingly murmured as Lucius with dazed, tear-filled eyes stared back into the dry, icy cold dark eyes of Reginald Prince. As if in a trance, Lucius slowly releases his father's robes until Reginald is able to lay the corpse of Abraxas Malfoy on the ground.
In a patient tone, Reginald says, "Lucius, do you think that the Malfoy manor is safe to return too, or would you like for me to find you and your bride a place to stay for the evening?"
"I-, I don't know," Lucius replied rather bewildered by the entire situation. After all, his father had just been alive earlier that same afternoon, and now his father was simply gone.
"Lucius," Reginald steadily asked again, "Is Malfoy manor safe for you and your bride?"
"My bride?" Lucius dumbly parroted back, before scrambling to his feet in a panic.
"Narcissa!" Lucius bellowed in a frantic search for his newly wedded wife.
Narcissa instantly raised her gaze as Lucius staggered to her, almost tripping in his haste. Narcissa wrenched herself out of her mother's arms, before throwing herself at her newly wedded husband. The newly wedded couple desperately clung to each other as they nosily wept in each other's arms.
Reginald steadily closed the blank eyes of his one-time old foe, Abraxas Malfoy. No one, not even his greatest of childhood nemesis deserved to be struck in the back at his only son's wedding. And not even when the Prince's were still a clan had they ever enacted such a terrible crime. For there are lines that should never be crossed, and even a Percussor had their own set of moral codes.
Rising back to his feet, Reginald spots the pale face of Orion Black approaching him. "Black," Reginald said with cold, hard eyes. "Let the purebloods be aware that I demand Sanguis Enim Sanguis for this travesty. If there or were any that were involved let them come forth and beg for clemency for I shall and will seek utter and complete retribution."
Orion licks his dry lips and hoarsely answered, "I shall."
"Also inform everyone that I shall be holding a conclave in a weeks' time," Reginald resolutely declared. "The official summons shall be sent within three days."
"But a conclave hasn't been held since the wizard-," Orion began to protest to only fall silent at the cold steely gaze of the old Prince. Orion knew the rumors and even if only half were true then the old Prince was far more capable of uniting the purebloods in common cause than Abraxas. And it was far better to have the old Prince as a friend than an enemy.
"I will," Orion decisively murmured as Reginald Prince swept past him without waiting for Orion's reply. Orion ignored the slight and walked over to his sister-in-law, Druella and aided her to her feet.
The long legs of Reginald Prince carried him down the aisle and past the wreckage of the wedding party. There were still wet crimson spots on the floor and hundreds of scorch spots from fired spells. Despite the metallic scent looming in the air, he makes his way to each of the hooded corpses.
One of the Auror's attempted to stop him, but a single icy glare from Reginald had the Auror flinching and stepping hastily back. With indifference and a rather discerning eye, Reginald carefully studied the unknown assailant's corpses. Not only memorizing the faces of the deceased aggressors but also checking the assailants for any sort of symbol or mark. To his vast interest, he found a snake intertwining with a skull on the left forearms of a few of the deceased.
Glancing upward, Reginald easily identified the mark to match with that of the emerald symbol hanging overhead. With the symbol forever stamped into his mind, he turned away from the ghastly green star to meet with the tired, gaunt gaze of Alphard Black. Unlike the rest of the Black's, neither Orion nor Alphard had fled from the attack.
Reginald tilted his head in a brief nod of acknowledgment, while Alphard deeply bowed his head forward in acknowledgment of Reginald's loss. Reginald accepted the bow, when a faint pop from his side caused him to whirl around with his wand pointed ready at the source. He wasn't the only one as Alphard and various other Auror's did the same.
It was the Head of the Auror division, Bob Ogden. The short, plump man wearing enormous thick glasses angrily bellows, "I want witness testimonies taken down this instant! I want to know every single detail NOW!!!" Auror's quickly kick into triple speed and do as they are told.
Ogden stomped over to the corpses to only come to an abrupt halt at spotting four Auror's appearing just outside of the tent carrying a bleeding figure between them. One of the battle-weary Auror's croaks, "We managed to capture one of the attacker's alive."
"I want that bastard's statement posthaste!" Ogden roared to only still see the four Auror's before him. "Well, what are you all waiting for?!" The four Auror's instantly apparate away with the captured assailant to begin the immediate interrogation as ordered.
Ogden huffs and turns around to only meet with a blood-chilling gaze. Ogden warily asks, "Prince, I was quickly informed that you were at the front of the wedding party. Can you tell me, what you saw?"
"I saw a father without any hesitation throw himself in front of his newly wedded son in order to protect him," Reginald said in a dead voice that caused Ogden to wince. "I returned fire and killed the polyjuiced form of Wilkes wife, who as it would turn out is the younger, Rabastan Lestrange. And as for the polyjuiced Wilkes Sr. his killing spell struck my wife instead of the bride. And by the time, I returned fire the polyjuiced killer was gone."
"Thank you," Ogden solemnly said as he studied the pale faces of the guests still present and mourning their dead. "I am told there is a child victim."
"Yes, the eldest Rosier boy," Reginald quietly murmured. "He is-, was in the same year as that of my grandchildren. The boy was to start his fourth year this upcoming September."
"Merlin," Ogden swore under his breath. "The Daily Prophet is going to have a field day with this."
Turning away from the old Prince, Ogden nods his head once more, before muttering, "I'll be taking my leave, Prince." Before striding over to get the witness statement from the Rosier parents no matter how painful it was.