Alphard Black
Alphard Black was forty nine years old and he was dying. He'd been born with a rare, hereditary disease inherited from the Black family - cursed that it was - and he'd drank far too much Firewhisky in the past forty nine years. He knew he would soon leave Earth for wherever souls went. Maybe he would go to hell. By most people's accounts, Alphard Black had not been a good man in his life.
He rang the silver bell on his bedside table and seconds later Healer Hartwaith appeared. Her lime-green robes made Alphard's head ache and his eyes water. "Owl the solicitor for an urgent appointment to update my will." Healer Hartwaith bowed and retreated to owl Alphard's solicitor.
Alphard slipped into an uneasy slumber plagued by nightmares and spectres of his past calling his name. When he woke again, his solicitor was sitting by his bed while Healer Hartwaith hovered anxiously at the foot of it. Slowly, painfully they trudged through the legal jargon that was Alphard's will and changed it.
Sirius Orion Black, his nephew would inherit a large pile of gold as would Andromeda Elspeth Black-Tonks. Alphard coughed hackingly, they could rot in Tartarus, his crazy sister and the rest of her crazy family. Alphard smiled to imagine her reaction when she found out the deepest coffers in the Black family had been left to her blood-traitor son, disowned niece and assorted friends and lovers.
Sirius was a good kid, Andromeda as well. They'd do something that would use the money in such a way as to royally piss of the family. Alphard drew his last breath while imagining the fury of the rest of the family when they realised they'd been left nothing. He died smiling.