SHE EXPECTED TO feel something, anything. She expected to feel some sort of relief, maybe even some strange sense of liberty from this never ending nightmare she'd been living.
—What Seven didn't expect however, was to feel nothing at all.

She stared down at her shaking hands, —At the dagger clenched tightly in her fist, pulled straight from the chest of a dead man. Seven had killed a Sin and in turn became a sinner.

  Her lungs ached and her throat burned with the absence of air, she couldn't breathe, terrified by her own dissonance.

  Casting one final look down to the body at her feet Seven tried her best to reassure herself that Lust was just one of many, that it would take the culling of all the Sins for her memories to return, just as the letters tucked safely away in her bag foretold.

  An anti-Apparation charm on the districts meant that ordinary civilians like Seven couldn't Apparate within the borders, only those in positions of power and the few rebel's that had managed to overcome the charm, forcing her to flee the party on foot after she'd done scrubbing the last of Lust's blood from beneath her nails and slipping the dagger back into her garter. Just in case, she told herself.

  The music blared just as it had before, only this time when Seven stumbled through the crowd her thoughts were not on what had to be done, instead Lust's last shuddering breath, reliving the feeling of a life slipping through her fingers over and over and over again.

It wasn't that she had never killed before, she had, it was more the foreign feel of human fragility, —how just as easily as life had been given, it could also be taken away.
—The sins after all were still human, albeit only just, so as much as they liked to fein immortality they could in fact be killed, Seven herself had just proven as much.

  She knew she had to get out of there, and fast, it wouldn't take long for someone to discover the body, and when they did, there would undoubtedly be anarchy.

  The death of a Sin would be not be taken lightly, an act that would unequivocally be considered blasphemous beyond belief. Luckily for Seven, there was no end to the possible suspects.

  Most wanted the Sins dead, and none more so than those who had been in support of Harry Potter before the war, though now not many remained alive.
—The few that had survived had fled, scattered far and wide throughout the slums of The Sloth District, for most the only place left where they may avoid persecution.

Many had even tried to slay the Sins, and many had failed. Since the time they were appointed in the dark days following the battle of Hogwarts, only one Sin had ever been killed... Until now.

  Sometimes Seven still dreamed about the day that the traitorous Envy was executed, as much as she tried not to think about it. They broadcast it live on every screen in every district for all to see, a clear warning, —This is what happens to traitors.

  They strung him up like an animal, before of the crowd in the ruins of what was once The Great Hall, and then the hooded figure of Wrath emerged, and struck him dead with a killing curse. Nobody grieved the death of Envy.

Severus Snape had once been one of the Dark Lord's most trusted advisors, now reduced to nothing more than yet another corpse left hanging to rot, —Yet another broken silhouette painted in a thousand shades of agony against the stained glass.

  The night air was far colder than it had been just an hour beforehand, and Seven found herself shivering despite pulling a silk shall from her bag. The moon was still high in the sky, no sign yet of the scarlet hues that signalled dawn and the momentary peace that came with the morning. When the sun came up was the only time the Lust district could ever be considered quiet, as most slept during the day only to party all night.

  The guards that had welcomed Seven paid her little mind as she passed them on the way out, head down and looking straight ahead as she followed the thin trickle of partygoers down the street, carefully stepping over the bodies of those who had passed out or fallen due to their own intoxication. She allowed herself a surge of relief as she lost herself in the winding roads, not knowing exactly where she was headed but also not particularly caring.

  Seven did not look the slightest bit out of place, wondering down the city streets of the Lust District scantily-clad in what little coverage her silk dress offered, heels clicking against the pavements, dulled only by the the music blasting in the distance from Knott Mansion. What did look strange however, was the group of men dressed all in black, huddled just inside an alleyway. Their unusual appearance caught Seven's attention at once, —only the Crawlers and Wrath himself wore black and yet these men did not wear the hoods or ivory masks that the Crawlers did, and as for Wrath, his presence was not just known, but felt.

She stilled at the entrance of the alleyway, lingering just out of sight, straining to make out words beneath the music.

"—Thats not what I've heard, Mundungus." Hissed one, every syllable he spoke dripping violent with malice. "—And you know how we feel about liars..."

"I've told you everything I know! —Everything I've said I heard straight from Echo himself, she's coming and so are the rest of them. —And when they do, they'll all be in one place, it's your only chance and you know it!"

"He's lying. They'd never be that foolish to leave the districts unattended, —especially not now, they're barely subduing the riots in Sloth as it is." Snapped a third, and the accused man, Mundungus, gave a shout as a strike sounded.

"I'm not, I swear!" Mundungus cried, "I'll take you to Echo, you can ask him yourself! Gluttony's coming first, she's arriving on the twenty seventh, a week before the others, then Lust, then Greed and the rest, Wrath's coming last with the Dark Lord himself!"

Seven held her breath, desperately clinging to every word, subconsciously leaning in closer, just about to spare a glance around the corner into the dark ally.

A tall, thin man with a wickedly angular face leaned in closer to his cowardly counterpart who was held in place by the other two men, the tip of his wand pressing into the hilt of his throat. "...No one likes a liar Mundungus."

As if he knew exactly what came next, Mundungus wretched free of his holders and attempted one last bid for freedom towards the exit of the alley way, towards where Seven lay hidden.

His eyes met hers as he burst onto the street, but only for a second, before simultaneously two things occurred.

  As if out of nowhere a pair of strong arms wrapped around Seven from behind, a callused hand clamping over her mouth to muffle the scream that broke from her lips and she was dragged backwards away from the mouth of alley, right as a beam of green light struck Mundungus dead. His body fell into the street with a thud, broken and lifeless, before a moment later it was summoned back into the darkness by a spell.

  Seven's fingers grappled for the dagger at her thigh only to find it missing and a second later feel the silver's kiss ghosted against her throat. "I wouldn't if I were you." Hissed a voice that made her knees weaken. All too familiar, and yet at the same time entirely foreign.

  "What do you want?" She spat, all too aware of her own vulnerability. Several cracks sounded from within the alley as the men disapperated, but still her captor held her close.

  For a long while he was silent, before he spoke the word to make Seven sick to her stomach. "You."

***
Who do you think 7s captor is? What did the men want from Mundungus? Why did they kill him?
-TFOA