They apparated to the other side of the hill. She could already see smoke curling toward the sky in large, sooty columns. Then the acrid smell of burnt meat and ozone from clashing magic hit her. She raced toward the crest of the hill. At the top, she gasped taking in the burning hellscape that had once been the pleasant front garden. It was now a smoking crater, evidence of an explosion. She heard the zings of spells slung and countered as well as the few screams of the dying. It had been a family party celebrating the engagement of their only daughter. The table that would have held the food overturned. Someone had tried to use it as cover, but it hadn’t worked, as the blown apart pieces could attest. She saw a pair of legs unmoving behind it. 