Disclaimer: Really? We don't own this? Are you sure? Darn, must have been a dream then.

A/N: A reminder — the Longbottoms did not go insane since Dumbledore had told Moody to send aurors to their house soon after the attack on the Potter's. The Death Eaters were captured.

Part 14: Targets

Harry woke to Fawkes softly poking him.

"Huh?" he mumbled, trying to roll over and go back to sleep, but Fawkes was insistent. And then Harry remembered!

Last night had been his first slumber party. Neville and Luna had come over and they had all camped out on the floor in his room. Sure, it was a little unusual for a slumber party to be co-ed, but Neville and Luna didn't know that, and Harry wasn't about to point it out.

It had been fun and relaxing just being a kid, especially after the 'glass incident' the previous week. He had also been reassured by Luna that she wasn't mad at him, and that she had actually been worried he was going to be upset with her, since she had accidently told her mum about the runes. So all was quickly forgiven and forgotten, as most childish worries are.

Harry rolled over, almost bumping into Neville, who was still asleep next to him. Was that drool on the pillow?

"Hey, Nev," he whispered, nudging him a little. "We have to get up, 'member?"

Neville was quite a chunk when he was little, though, because his parents were raising him this time, he had a healthy tan to go along with his young build. Harry smiled, looking forward to telling Neville's parents that their son had displayed his first bout of accidental magic. Though it had been a small bit of magic, Harry was going to retell the tale with the help of Luna.

"'Kay," Neville said, rubbing his eyes.

Neville's parents were not as concerned about his apparent lack of magic as Augusta had been in the original timeline, though it was clear Augusta was trying to get her son to do something to help 'encourage' Neville to show something to put her mind at ease. Frank and Alice Longbottom did no such thing, and actually told Neville not to worry about it. Whether or not he was a wizard, he was their son and was the heir of the Longbottom line.

Harry could tell they were worried for their son, though. Not for fear of what him being a squib would do to their image or anything, but what that would mean for Neville's future. They, understandably, did not want their son to suffer any public bias or unfair judgment. They also didn't want him missing out on Hogwarts or grow to resent those who could use magic.

Neville, to their bewilderment, wasn't worried, thanks to Harry privately pointing out to him that he wouldn't be making runes with him and Luna if he wasn't magical. They had, of course, been secretly drawing runes for some time so that proved Harry's point.

Harry heard Luna sit up behind him. "You have to go with your Papa today, huh?" she said, stretching.

"Uh-huh, it's some guy's retirement party or something."

"Retirement?" Neville asked tiredly. "Are people tired?"

"Maybe they need a nap," Luna suggested.

Harry smiled. "No. It's when someone gets to stop working at a job. They get health benefits and everything."

"For getting old?" Luna asked.

"I guess," Harry said, deciding it was easier to just agree, since it was kind of true.

Harry looked at the clock, seeing that it was almost 7:30 am. They would arrive at the Ministry at 8 for the retirement party. Mad-eye Moody's party.

"Ah, you are all already up," Dumbledore said pleasantly, ready for the day as he entered.

"Uh-huh. Fawkes woke Harry up," Luna said.

"Very good. Well, your parents will be here a little before eight, so why don't you all get dressed. Come to the office when you are all ready," he said, flicking his wand which packed everything up for them while leaving their clothes out. "And pack up your PJ's once you change. Luna, you may change in the bathroom."

Luna nodded, grabbed her bag and skipped to the hall restroom while Harry and Neville picked up the clothes Dumbledore had taken out for them.

They were all heading to the office in ten minutes.

"So how were they?" Alice Longbottom asked, sitting on a recently conjured couch next to her husband, Frank. Rebekah was standing beside Alice.

"They were perfectly well behaved children," Dumbledore answered happily. "We even played a few games before I sent them off to bed."

"And Neville, he was alright during the night?"

"With Fawkes in the room, his fear of the dark was nearly nonexistent," Dumbledore assured her just before Harry, Neville and Luna entered.

"Have a good time, son?" Frank asked.

"Uh-huh. We played snaps and made shadow puppets!" he said happily, surprising his parents since he had a serious fear of the dark, and shadows. . . .

"Oh? What did you make?" Frank asked, happy his son was slowly getting over his fear, with or without the presence of a phoenix.

"I made a dragon; I had to protect Luni the Worm! Uh, Luna was the worm," he said, wiggling his finger, evidently showing how Luna had made the shadow worm.

Harry smiled, not at all surprised Neville had forgotten about his little display of magic. Why should he be concerned about maybe not being something he already knows he is? He didn't understand that his parents were privately concerned about his supposed non-magical issue.

"What was Harry?" Rebekah asked.

"Oh, he was the light," Neville said simply before becoming excited. "Fawkes was the monster I had to fight! He even played dead and everything for us!"

Dumbledore's eye twinkled as he glanced at his familiar. Fawkes seemed to shrug.

"Yeah, and Neville made our shadows shrink!" Harry said, knowing this would spark their curiosity.

"What Harry?" Frank asked, afraid to read into what this might mean.

"Oh yeah, shadow-Fawkes was about to gobble up Luni the worm, so –" Neville started, only to be cut off by Luna.

"He gasped and Harry's light shifted some and that gave Luni a chance to dodge shadow-Fawkes' beak!" she said, playing out the scene with her hands.

"Accidental magic!" Frank said, quite happy. "You're a wizard!"

"I know," Neville said, not seeing the big deal.

"Well, aren't you happy?" Alice asked, having expected Neville to be ecstatic rather than practically apathetic.

"Yeah, but I've known for a while. Harry told me I was," Neville said with a smile.

"Harry told you?" Alice asked, turning her eyes to find a rather sheepish child. She didn't know if she should be happy about Harry having faith in Neville being a wizard, or be angry about how Neville would have felt had he learned he was a squib instead.

Harry decided to play mysterious. He was the Boy-Who-Lived after all, and what he was going to say was the truth.

"He asked me what I thought," Harry said with a shrug. "I knew he was, so I told him he was."

"How did you know, though?" Rebekah asked.

"How can you not? It's all around him," Harry said, allowing himself to look confused as he gently jabbed Neville's chunky arm with his scarred hand. "And in him. See?"

"You can't know that by just poking someone, Harry," Frank said seriously, though it was clear he was a bit amused by Harry's naivety.

Rebekah and Alice noticed Harry used his right hand, which they knew he rarely used to make any sort of contact with, particularly human contact. They were not so quick to agree with Frank.

Harry frowned, inwardly deciding to have some fun, just to teach them the lesson that you can't judge a person by initial impression or set a standard for them to meet or fail. They just might surprise you. Also, after the 'glass incident', he felt he didn't need to hide so much.

In the time of learning to deal with his scarred hand, he learned his 'hand instincts' were never wrong, and could tell him quite a bit about what he was touching if he paid attention, which was probably why he wasn't able to comfortably write runes with it, now that he thought about it. His hand was telling him too many things at once, and he wasn't able to decipher it all . . . yet. Just another thing he was currently looking into.

He knew his hand could tell him if someone was magical or not, and, to a certain extent, how strong they were (or rather could be). And at the Unspeakables, he had picked up a few other things his hand could tell him, particularly about who was an animagus, a hint of what animal they may be, and if they had any other magical abilities. He was still working out the specifics, of course, but he was happy with the progress he was making. And with Albus' help, they were narrowing down what each feeling in his palm meant.

Harry looked at the adults before him, Albus' eyes twinkling, pretty sure what Harry was planning, since they had discussed how much he should slowly reveal about himself. Everyone already knew he was different; there was no reason to try to completely hide it from everybody, just the general public. And he knew he could trust these people, the only question was how much trust was safe for them.

Harry walked up to Frank, stopping within arm's reach of him and stretched out his scarred hand and touched his knee.

"You like cougars," he said simply, before pulling his hand back and placing it in his pocket.

Frank and Alice exchanged glances. Frank's animagus was a cougar. They looked back at Harry, finding his eyes, as always, holding a glint of unknown power and intelligence.

"You're right, Harry. I do like cougars," Frank admitted softly.

"Neville likes lions," Harry added, before there was an awkward silence.

"Well, Harry and I must be off. I would hate to arrive late for Alastor's retirement party," Dumbledore said as if nothing had happened.

"Of course, Albus," Rebekah said, guiding Luna toward the fireplace, the Longbottoms moving to get behind her.

"Harry, what do you say?" Dumbledore asked.

"Thanks for letting Neville and Luna spend the night," Harry said obediently.

"You're very welcome, Harry," Frank said, before looking up to Dumbledore. "Tell Alastor we will arrive, but will unfortunately be a bit late. Augusta will be babysitting Neville."

"I will," Dumbledore said.

Immediately after the two families left, Harry and Dumbledore flooed to the Ministry.

O o O o O

Don sprinted onto the grounds of Hogwarts. There was probably no need to hurry, as Albus and Harry Dumbledore spent most days at the castle, but he hurried anyway. Intel given too late rarely helped anyone.

The castle grew steadily closer, and soon Don was at the main entry. He yanked on the door.

Locked. Shit.

Don looked around but saw no one, not even the huge, hairy, truck-like groundskeeper. Pounding on the door would probably not be helpful, seeing as the castle was huge, and only a few professors stayed over the summer.

Don pulled out a slim tool and inserted it in the huge lock on the door. "C'mon, let me in, let me in," he mumbled as he expertly began picking the lock. He knew that since the wards had been updated, the castle didn't let people in unless they were working for the good of the people in the castle. His errand qualified as such, and he hoped his picking the lock would be overlooked.

The lock clicked, and he slid the tool into his robe and opened the door, wand drawn. No one greeted him, so he ran toward the headmaster's office. It had been years since he had been there, but he was confident of the way.

Sure enough, he soon came upon the gargoyle hiding the entrance. He boldly cast a spell that should go through any magic defenses on any door.

The gargoyle didn't budge. "For crying out loud!" Don exclaimed. "Let me up; I've got important news for the headmaster."

"He's not here," a voice from down the hall answered.

Damn. Don whipped around, a curse forming in his mind before he remembered where he was. "Who are you?" he asked instead, keeping his wand trained on the large man.

The man chuckled, his wand already pointed at Don. "Since you're the one who barged in, perhaps you should answer that question first." His bare head had a scar across the top, and Don wondered what sort of spell caused it, as it looked like it had once been painful.

Frustrated, Don explained, "I need to warn the headmaster about something. Where is he?"

"Give me a reason I should answer you," the man said.

"Hogwarts let me in," Don pointed out.

"True, but that's not enough," the man responded.

"What more do you want?" Don asked. This was wasting time.

"Maybe someone to vouch for you," the man suggested.

"Hello Michael," a new voice said. "Who is this?"

"I was trying to find out," the man, Michael, answered.

The well known form of Professor Flitwick came from behind Don. "Well," he said, suddenly businesslike, "who are you and what do you want?"

"I'm trying to find Headmaster Dumbledore, because I have news he needs to hear," Don said quickly. This was getting old. He supposed he could imperio one of them to get the information, but that was generally frowned upon.

"What news?" Flitwick asked.

"I can't tell just anyone," Don responded. "Can you just tell me where he is?"

"I'm afraid not, since I don't know who you are or what your intentions are," Flitwick answered.

Don suddenly remembered his card. "Oh, I'm with the Unspeakables; here's my card," he said, handing the card to Flitwick. It didn't give his real name, but it had his picture, and was coated in magic that made it impossible to forge. He had forgotten it because his jobs generally involved taking people out without making contact, or hiding who he was working for. Talking to someone up front was usually Anna or Colin's job.

Flitwick glanced over the card, then handed it to Michael.

"Albus is at the Ministry, attending Alastor Moody's retirement party," Flitwick finally answered.

"Great, thanks," Don said as he held out his hand. Michael passed the card back to him. Don's curiosity grew. "Who are you?"

"Michael Bear, Defense against the Dark Arts professor," Michael answered.

"Oh, you poor man," Don said, thinking of the curse. "Well, hope you make it out alive."

"I've been here two years already, since the updates on the wards broke the curse," Michael said with a laugh. "Your concern for my safety is appreciated, though."

"Ah, well, see ya," Don said as he ran back to the entrance. All the way back to the Ministry, damn it! Something was going to go down. He could feel it.

O o O o O

Harry looked around, taking in everything. This was not his first time in the Ministry. He had been here a few times when he was three and four, but this was the first time Albus had allowed him to walk beside him—while holding his hand of course.

Everything seemed so much bigger than the last time they had been here in the original timeline. That time had been when they had first met Unspeakable Jess, the time their deep bond had been created, strengthening the bond that had already been forming due to the war.

"Excited, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, both of them without any glamours, since they were there for a party.

Harry nodded, catching a glimpse of the absurd statue in the main area. Harry almost wished to see the blasted thing explode. So egotistical and arrogant. It was a wonder there had not been an uprising made up of 'inferior' magical creatures. The Wizarding World would see how 'inferior' they really were if they joined Voldemort again as many of them had last time. . . . Harry shook his head, Dumbledore catching his dark emotions concerning it. Glancing back to what Harry was staring at, he instantly understood.

He was about to comment when the Minister came upon them.

"Ah, Albus Dumbledore! And your heir! I'm so happy you have taken the time to come today. Alastor will be quite pleased," he said.

His name was Justin McCormick. Cornelius Fudge was never able to even approach the position of Minister, thanks to the public's cry of wanting serious, hardworking politicians. Dumbledore had not made the same mistake of sitting back and hoping people would wise up on their own as he had last time. No, sometimes it took a respected man to stand firm and make his voice heard. Sometimes people were too accustomed to things to know changes were needed. He was still hopeful of people, but, understandably, the blind faith he once had was gone.

"Since Alastor became an Auror, I have always intended to come to his retirement party," Dumbledore said, Harry scooting closer to his side.

"Of course, and the fact there are an unlimited supply of a variety of cakes doesn't hurt in this decision, does it?" he asked, smirking.

"Cake? No, the icing, Minister, the icing," Albus said seriously, getting a nod of agreement from Harry.

Minister McCormick looked down at Harry, seeing him nod. "So, after the old man's own heart, are you lad?"

Harry blinked, allowing himself to look like a confused child as Albus chuckled.

"Well, to the party, gentlemen," McCormick said, waving his cane toward the direction they were headed.

McCormick was an average looking man with dark hair. He was a pureblood, but was fair and treated all individuals equally, for the most part. His main difference from Fudge was the fact he despised brownnosers, which was a pleasant condition from what Dumbledore had prepared himself for. He also valued his own opinion, more so than Fudge had initially, not coming to Dumbledore at every choice he had to make. This gave more time to Dumbledore to run Hogwarts, rather than spending time trying to assist a brainless, cowardly minister.

They went down a few floors in an elevator, before going down a corridor and entering a grand hall. There were already a large number of people within, no doubt including all of the older aurors, who had retired before Alastor but had worked with him, and a majority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It didn't surprise Harry and Dumbledore. After all, this was Mad-Eye Moody, the legendary auror.

The large area had a number of tables laden with food, including cakes with impressive layers of icing. There was also a congratulations banner over the length of the hall at the back against the wall.

"Oooo," Harry said, taking in the décor, the giant chandelier, the two balconies on either side, overlooking the possible dance floor, and all of the formally robed people.

"The lad is easily impressed," a voice said behind them, not far from Minister McCormick.

"Not really," Harry answered, recognizing the voice, despite never having formally met the man before in this time.

Harry turned around with Albus to find Alastor standing behind them. He had a larger portion of his nose than his alternate self had had at this time, but his leg and eye were both still prosthetic.

Harry continued looking at him, perfectly at ease before a man who frightened most, innocent or otherwise.

"Wow! Cool eye!" Harry said suddenly. "Can you play catch with it?"

Alastor blinked, before his face contorted and a howl came out of his mouth. Unrestrained laughter.

A number of people stopped and stared, never having heard the man chortle like that, and because of a child no less.

"I like you, boy," he said, once he had calmed enough to speak. He then looked at Dumbledore, who had a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Been teaching the lad well, I see. May make a mighty Auror one of these days, but just the same, I am certain he will make a fine wizard."

Albus took a moment to bask in fatherly pride as Harry tried not to look too embarrassed, particularly with most in the room staring at him with open curiosity and amazement.

"Come, Albus, knowing you, you are looking forward to something sweet," Alastor said, shepherding them to the nearest table.

For a few minutes, they mingled, the Minister going off to speak to some other people a few tables away as Harry kept close to Albus. Alastor had left soon after the Minister to speak with some ancient looking aurors.

Taking an offered cookie from Albus, Harry tried to not appear too self-conscious. He could feel a number of eyes on them, for it wasn't often that the great Albus Dumbledore came to the Ministry with 'the Next Merlin'. He was glad they didn't scramble toward them, though, demanding to shake his hand, or some nonsense, as they had in the original timeline. Perhaps it was because most of these people here were Aurors or related to them and knew if they bugged Dumbledore or his heir they would have Moody to answer to.

There were many stories about how protective Moody had been of them after they had left Godric's Hollow that Halloween. One poor healer never grew back his eyebrows after he strongly suggested removing Harry from the room while Dumbledore was still unconscious.

"Headmaster, if you would pardon me, I have always wanted to meet you and y-your son," a man said hesitantly.

Harry slowly turned, at first unable to believe his ears. Fudge. Cornelius Fudge. A younger and humble Cornelius Fudge. Granted, 'humble' might not be the right word.

"You did attend Hogwarts, if you recall, Cornelius, so you have met me before," Albus said lightly. "If I remember correctly, you were quite talented in Astronomy."

It never ceased to amaze Harry how Albus could degrade someone and compliment them at the same time, leaving them frazzled.

"Er, yes, of course. Thank you. I just, I mean…." He paused, and Harry could feel Albus' amusement as he looked up at the man.

He was wearing a lime green bowler hat and dark robes with barely visible stripes running down them. Fudge noticed Harry looking at him and Harry met his eyes.

Harry could tell the man was nervous and obviously quite taken at being noticed at all by 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'. So much so he was unsure how he should act in front of the four year old.

"This is Cornelius Fudge, Harry. He is an assistant to Dean Marmalade in the Department of Magical Transport and Upkeep," Albus said, taking pity on the man.

"Oh, like the Knight Bus?" Harry asked.

"Yes, my department helps ensure they undergo routine maintenance and are up to snuff on standards," Fudge said, happy to offer any facts he had to show he was knowledgeable and an important member of society.

Harry wondered if Fudge had changed for the better with all the changes they had caused over the years. He had clearly backed away from politics, which was definitely a positive for the rest of the Wizarding World. . . .

"It pleases me to learn past students are making something of themselves," Albus said. "Working for the Ministry to serve much of the Wizarding population is quite a responsibility."

Fudge beamed. Butter anyone?

"It was nice meeting you, Mr. Fudge," Harry said.

"Likewise," Fudge said, happily bowing and taking his leave, absolutely tickled that Harry had said it was nice to meet him. He migrated toward the Minister.

Albus shook his head slightly. He wasn't surprised.

"Well, Harry, shall we mosey over to the lemon cakes?" Albus asked.

Harry was torn between nodding enthusiastically and rolling his eyes. He settled on giving a small smile with a short nod.

Going to the table, they found a familiar man beside it.

"Ah, Mr. Shacklebolt," Albus said pleasantly, taking the large black man by surprise since his back was to them.

Kingsley turned, his eyes widening ever so slightly when he realized exactly who had greeted him so happily — as if they were long time friends or something.

"Headmaster, good morning," he said formally, giving him a nod before noticing Harry.

"Hi!" Harry said, holding out his hand. Kingsley gently took it, swallowing it up in his large hand.

Kingsley, in their future, had helped them a great deal, and, near the end, had gallantly died for Dumbledore. Kingsley definitely had a place in their hearts.

"Have you caught any bad guys?" Harry asked excitedly.

"Not recently," Kingsley said, giving a soft smile.

"You have just been made head of a squad, correct?" Albus asked, appraisingly.

Harry was surprised to note that Kingsley became slightly … embarrassed? It was almost as if he was having confidence issues, which, Harry supposed, made some sense. He was a fairly young auror.

"Yes, sir. I'm head of a training squad. I help prepare new aurors to enter active squads."

"And I can't think of a better man for the job. I certainly remember your OWL and NEWT scores," Albus said.

Kingsley barely gave any hint of his reaction, though Harry and Albus could tell he was quite proud to hear such a compliment from his old Headmaster.

"Papa, are OWLs when all those really ol — uh… those people come and test everyone?" Harry asked, playing his part and causing Kingsley to hide a smile at his near slip of 'old people'.

It was so fun to play innocent kid.

"Yes, Harry. I'm sure you remember Griselda Marchbanks?"

"The lady who always talks like she wants to give you a cookie? I like her," Harry said. "Was she like that when you were little?"

"Not as much, but some," Albus said, before turning his attention back to Kingsley.

As they spoke, Harry managed to get a second piece of lemon cake, and before he looked up, Kingsley had politely bid farewell and was going to another table, respectfully allowing others a chance to speak to the Headmaster.

Harry lifted the cake to take a bite, but before he could sink his teeth into it, he felt a . . . disturbance at the border of his magic.

He instinctively turned, sending feelings of alarm to Dumbledore as he dropped his cake and raised his hands before him, finding a bolt of green coming right at him. He already felt his magic gathering in front of him as he straightened his arms, the very blatant killing curse slamming into his near invisible magic before all became pandemonium.

O o O o O

Jess and Colin hurried into the ministry party, intent on finding the Dumbledores. It didn't take long. Albus' bright robes, resplendent with moving orange embroidery, pointed him out almost immediately. Jess shook her head. With assassins after him, they would have to talk more about blending in with a crowd.

Jess was about to approach them when she noticed Harry's magic swirl, reaching out in a protective way. This was something they had not yet seen in their tests, and she knew something was very wrong. Harry, as if pulled or alerted by his magic, whipped his head around and dropped his cake. Jess followed his gaze as he threw up his hands, a hauntingly familiar look in his eyes. The same look she had viewed in Don's memory from that Halloween night.

A flash of sickly green magic, that could only be an AK, caught her eye as it sped toward Harry. There was no way she could block it with an object from this distance. She fearfully followed the path of the AK, only to see it come to an abrupt halt when it hit a wall of pure chaotic magic emanating from Harry's palms. Peering closer, she saw lines connecting from the wall to Harry's hands, primarily his right, and then a thick line from his torso to Albus's center.

Seeing that the Dumbledores were okay and moderately protected with the wall still up, Jess turned her attention to the source of the AK. From the balcony, a body fell over the railing, a dark robed figure stepping forward to look down. Don. She felt a sense of pride in her husband as it was clear he had taken out the assassin.

"FIRE!" Harry screamed as a swath of fire split the room in half, catching many in its wake. The smell of charred flesh filled the air and was soon coupled with screams as the room fell into chaos.

Something was off about the fire, a malevolence that wasn't present in ordinary fire. Feindfyre, she noted with horrified dismay as another burst of it went directly for Albus.

O o O o O

Don sliced the throat of the assassin with a small knife and then calmly watched him tumble off the balcony. Most wizards would prefer to kill with a spell, but Don liked to feel that the person was dead. Something seemed off on this one, though, but he had no time to think on it as bright fire shot across the middle of the room. Good thing Colin and Jess were at the edge.

Knowing the fire suggested a second caster, Don searched and quickly found him. He was stepping through the fire, controlling it with his sword. A sword? The one on the balcony had been using a sword. This reminded Don of something, but his primary objective was to take down the assassins.

As his first kill hit the floor, he gracefully leapt off the balcony, landing in a crouch. The few aurors on this side of the fire were trying to protect innocents, organize defenses, and figure out what the hell was going on, especially after a body had hit the floor with a dull thud nearby.

Don narrowly missed landing on the body as the Aurors leveled their wands at him.

"Bloody hell," Don uttered.

Of course they would think he, who was only trying to help, was a crazed murderer and not a kind wizard eliminating bothersome assassins.

He cursed the wards on all ministry buildings that limited apparation to a few special places, which, of course, were not even on this side of the Ministry.

"I don't have time for this!" Don lifted his wand and began banishing people out of his way. There was no way they would die from it, and if they were hurt, well, St Mungo's existed for a reason.

O o O o O

Dread filled Albus as the fiendfyre approached. He had seen Death Eaters try to cast it in battle, only to see it gobble up both allies and enemies alike, and finally turn on its summoner. He raised his wand, hoping to at least turn it aside. In battles such as those he and Harry had fought in the future, this involved a simple turning onto the oncoming enemies. However, in this place crowded with innocents and allies, it would not be so straightforward.

He felt the steady drain of his magic due to the wall Harry had formed. It was tiring, but at least he would not be attacked from behind. Albus reflected that even with the drain he should be able to affect the fire's path, and perhaps gain control of it if he worked it just right. With that thought, he engaged a battle of will for control of the fire, taking on the one who had cast the spell. The will he came up against was much stronger than he had expected, but he managed to weave his magic so tightly against them that he could feel them straining to keep control. Sweat on his brow, Dumbledore guided the fire to the ceiling, the one place where it couldn't harm anyone. He saw the fire curve up as the caster's control waned, but then it trembled angrily, and shifted.

The mass of fiendfyre was at the ceiling when control was wrenched from Albus. A figure stepped out from the line of fire recently placed across the center of the room. He was holding a smoking sword and was strangely unburned. The figure kept his eyes not on the fire, but on Albus, and Albus found that his attempt to reclaim the fire had little to no effect. The swordsman brought his hands together, and when he pulled them apart, one sword became two. As they did, the twisting shaft of damned fire split above them.

Albus' eyes narrowed suddenly, a jolt of painful memories passing through his mind in an instant. The fall and total destruction of Hogwarts. He had only been able to watch as five vampires, who had newly allied with Voldemort, controlled a huge mass of fiendfyre, shattering the very foundations of the venerable castle.

Harry and Albus had both encountered them in later battles, and they quickly learned how to recognize this elite and ruthless clan of vampires. Even other vampire clans despised and avoided them. They cast using swords, controlling demonic fire with practiced ease. And they had used their ability to erase Hogwarts from existence, and had mercilessly murdered over half of his remaining students in one horrid night.

Albus met the eyes of the duel blade wielding vampire, rage like none he had ever felt before rising within him.

His steel blue eyes seemed to glow with an unmatchable fury as Harry just behind him let his hands fall away from the shield to redirect them toward Albus.

Albus felt a rush of power, Harry thrusting all of the power from the shield through the bond as the vampire wove the fiendfyre above them for a second attack.

Dumbledore rose up to his full height, powerful magic rippling off his frame ten times as it was before, if not more, as he whipped his wand about, his lips soundlessly moving just as fast.

Now was not the time for mercy.

O o O o O

Jess continued forward, relieved Dumbledore seemed to have a handle on deflecting fiendfyre despite the magic draining from him to help Harry maintain the shield. She was about to help Dumbledore with the fire, but suddenly wondered why Harry was bothering to maintain the shield. Hadn't he seen the assassin fall?

She looked over, expecting to find a body void of any magic or life force on the floor beyond the scrambling and terrified people, only to discover the body was raising itself up and had magic to spare. It was now clearly ebbing gray magic.

"They're Vampires!" she shouted, not caring how the panic rose tenfold in the room. She had to let her team know!

Not wasting any time, she motioned Colin behind her to help Dumbledore as she dashed forward, catching her husband bulldozing his way toward the fire-assassin from the corner of her eye. The balcony-assassin was now hers.

Focusing her attention to the task before her, she wove her way around frantic people, most now huddling beside chairs or fallen tables, coming to the clearly alive vampire. He turned toward her, the bloody gash on his neck closing as he assessed her. She narrowed her eyes, the people near fearfully edging back as the vampire's magic and her own churned in the air.

The vampire raised his scimitar, its curved blade layered with dark magic invisible to all but her.

"You'll die here, witch!" he shouted, slashing the sword before him, throwing out a wave of hideous magic.

She waved her wand before her, promptly cancelling the spell. Seeing magic and the makeup of spells can often be very helpful in removing them.

"I'll die someday, but not here," she said with a smirk.

O o O o O

Colin didn't watch Jess' progress and totally missed Don's advance through the chaos as he moved forward, only to pause and give a heavy blink.

As he had run forward, he had watched Dumbledore redirect the flames up and was certain the old man had gained total control, but that was suddenly no longer the case as a duel blade wielding madman stepped out of the flames.

The fiendfyre taking up at least a quarter of the ceiling split into two separate entities — entities, this fire had a form of consciousness — but he was not prepared for what he saw next.

Something in Dumbledore snapped as he looked upon the vampire. In that moment, Colin fully understood why Albus Dumbledore was the only wizard Voldemort feared. He barely took notice of Harry's new stance behind the old wizard as he bolted forward, feeling he needed to get as close as he could to the Dumbledores as fast as he could.

He nearly gasped at the magic backlash that brushed across his skin, and he couldn't help but feel a tad sorry for the poor assassin who had bitten off more than he could chew. Chunks of floor were now missing in front of Dumbledore, who was only just starting his attack. Colin raised his wand, at the moment only wanting to keep the fire at the ceiling since he wasn't sure of the caster's power and didn't want to openly reveal himself just yet. The flames being contained could easily be blamed on Dumbledore for the time being. However, hearing the first few notes of an overture in his head, he prepared himself in case he had to do something drastic.

Still moving forward, having to shove past a number of frightened people trying to make it to the narrow double doors, he saw Dumbledore sweep his wand around his head, making all juice and other party liquids in cups suddenly vaporize. Colin's eyes widened, never having seen such a massive selective banishing charm cast before, but he quickly learned it was not merely a complex banishing charm.

The vampire screamed, releasing a terrible high pitched squeal that would deafen a banshee. His drenched clothes and wet skin were steaming and burning significantly from . . . holy water?

The fiendfyre twisted horribly in that instant, the caster clearly having relinquished all control to the fire itself so it would nearly be impossible for anyone to regain control. The Dumbledores seemed to pay no mind to the raging inferno rolling erratically above them as they focused their sights to the vampire who had just taken another wave of Dumbledore's magical onslaught.

The fiendfyre suddenly plummeted.

Colin acted, hearing the soft strains of music swell into the easily defined 1812 Overture.

Jumping on top of a table that had managed to remain solid and on all of its legs, Colin stood and expertly waved his wand, his free hand weaving about in a unique pattern at the flames. Hoping no one would be dumb enough to try to interrupt his casting (such as confused aurors) he felt his hold on the fiendfyre materialize.

Ah-hah! he thought, hearing the canons in his head as he thrust the rebellious flames back up just before they came down on Dumbledore and all those below.

Grasping his wand, he curved the fire about, collecting the malicious flames back into one entity again. With an unrelenting glint in his eyes, Colin compacted the fire as much as he could and aimed it at the still screaming vampire. Dumbledore seemed to be mercilessly amplifying the potency of the holy water, while Harry was . . . what was Harry doing? Colin refocused, deciding it best to ask questions later as he gave the fiendfyre a new command.

The vampire's screams suddenly fell off, no doubt seeing its coming demise.

O o O o O

Jess deflected another curse, about to retaliate with some of her own when a blur dashed across her vision before slamming into the unsuspecting vampire.

An auror. Brave or foolish, she didn't know, but the vampire was rammed down onto the floor where the crazed auror began pounding on him with his magically strengthened fists. Jess could see swirling layers of magic coming from the man's knuckles.

Must be a muggle-born, Jess mused.

She was about to fire a powerful and well aimed curse at the assassin, but then the screaming vampire, who was somewhere behind her, suddenly shut up, and the assassin before her gave a jolt, before vanishing.

An event initiating portkey. Jess could see the lingering magic from it disperse into the air.

Evidently, it was set to activate upon the death of the other assassin.

O o O o O

The raging firestorm streaked down, Dumbledore leaping back in surprise as the hellish-blaze shot right in front of him, nearly taking his hat, before slamming into the dripping vampire. The holy water instantly vaporized, which was soon followed by the total annihilation of the would-be-assassin. His corpse landed in a heap of dust, dry bone, and . . . was that a wedge of wood?

With a wave of his wand, Colin banished the fiendfyre to where it had come and quenched the flames running down the middle of the room with another simple wave.

The place was utterly silent, staring at either him, Dumbledore, or Harry.

And then someone broke the silence.

"Colin! I should kill you! You nearly barbequed me! A little warning next time?! I had already staked the monster! He was already dead!" Don shouted, standing just beyond the crispy remains of the vampire.

Ah, so that is what that piece of wood is. A stake, Colin thought.

"Oh. Sorry, Don. I guess I didn't see you," Colin said simply.

"You're lucky I can evade, or you would be answering to my wife right now."

Colin blinked, paling at the thought.

O o O o O

"You failed? I thought your people were the best."

"They are. Circumstances were not right. I warned you about launching an attack at the Ministry." The speaker paused. "And now they know they have been targeted."

"You'll just have to do better. I want them eliminated."

"Of course, but it will take more time now, since they are aware. We must wait for them to think they are out of danger; then we will attack."

"Very well, I suppose you know best."

"Oh, I do." The speaker grinned.

A/N: Well, there it is. . . .