Chapter 44 – The End of a Legend

Hogwarts Grounds, Tournament Field

Albus Dumbledore felt his stomach drop to his knees when he heard the growled unforgivable curse. This should not be possible. No one should be so bold as to perform the torture curse while at Hogwarts. Not with so many Aurors around, not with Mad-Eye watching everyone with his roving eye, and especially not while he was watching. Did no one fear his power anymore? Did no one respect his authority? Did they think him so old he would be powerless to stop them and too slow to react?

What was the world coming to?

He knew that Tom did not respect him, but he was wary of his power. Or at least he had been during the last war. Perhaps he no longer was. Perhaps Tom just saw him as the old, failing man now, no matter what incarnation he happened to be.

"SILENCE," Albus roared over the screams and shouting. "I would like all spectators to begin evacuating immediately. Everyone should head to the castle so that the DMLE and my staff can properly investigate and ensure your safety. I ask that all young children be given priority in the evacuation and that all adults and older students aid them to ensure an organized and safe exit."

Whirling, he looked to Minerva and the other professor sitting behind the judge's platform. "We need to start evacuating immediately." He saw his deputy nod and almost let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't realize the danger this could mean. Her approval gave him confidence in his hastily put together plan. "Pomona, Aurora, Bathsheda, and Septima, I want you to station yourselves at the entrance of the school and direct students and visitors into the building. Students should report directly to their common rooms and visitors to the Great Hall." He pulled some socks from his pockets and quickly turned them into port keys, "Take Sybil with you," he glanced at the divination professor who was staring off into space, mumbling to herself while rocking slightly.

Pomona took her sock and nodded, reaching for Sybil's hand, "We will take care of it. No one will get through us without a fight. I will have the first prefects I see take roll when the students get to their common rooms as a secondary check in case we miss someone."

"I would not expect many of my older Lions," Minerva sighed, "I expect that they will try to help and will dawdle in the hopes that Harry returns."

"Agreed," Albus nodded, "Filius, I want you and Minerva to protect the students as they evacuate, I have a feeling this is going to get messy. I am sure Severus and Remus will agree with me and are planning on standing guard." He turned his attention to Amelia Bones who had joined the teachers in their box before the start of the event, "I was hoping you could post Aurors at the exits to the sections to direct and guard?"

She nodded curtly, "I have Shack directing them now. The strongest fighters will be stationed in central areas where they can best defend. I also have Robards and Tonks looking for Dawlish, that was his voice and I will have him arrested and tried for what he just did to that girl."

"Who else could have been doing that?" Minerva wondered, "He was the only one who spoke but the three were downed almost simultaneously, he could not have hit all three."

"I have my team rounding up anyone who Crouch favored and placing them in custody until this is over. I was forced to bring five of his cronies, but the rest of the team Shack and I can vouch for."

"I leave the evacuation in your hands for now, Amelia," he looked to the champions platform as three of the four champions appeared, Miss Delacour twitching with Cruciatus exposure. "I am going to attempt to track the cup. I felt it activate but Harry is not here. If I am lucky, perhaps I can follow its trail." He held out his arm and a second later, Fawkes flamed onto his arm with a worried trill. "To the pyramid my friend. We must find Harry so that we can help him.

"Good luck my friends, I will be with you as soon as I can, but Harry is my immediate priority."

Albus was engulfed in flames, his vision full of them for a few seconds and when it cleared, he was standing at the pedestal that once held the Triwizard cup. His wand was in his hand and he was instantly attempting to trace the cup. For a man who had taught children for decades, he knew an impressive number of expletives, each and every one of them flew from his mouth as he was blocked time and again while trying to trace the cup's path.

Someone knew what they were doing. It couldn't have been Dawlish, who had been given the task of creating the port key on the cup, he wasn't that creative or knowledgeable, so it had to have been whomever was waiting at the port key's destination. There was really only one man who could have done this and that was Tom. Voldemort, for all his insanity, was rather formidable when it came to traps and power. He had spent a great deal of time studying the ancient libraries of his followers and Albus could only thank the goddess that Bellatrix and Regulus Black had not had access to the worst of the Black library; Voldemort with the legendary Black curses would have been even more devastating.

"Could you give it a try, my old friend?"

Fawkes cooed and brushed Albuses head with his own. He knew that the clever bird would close his eyes and feel out the path and attempt to locate Harry's magic. Albus felt his heart sink as Fawkes deflated on his shoulder and let out a sorrowful squawk.

"It is not your fault, Fawkes. The fact that you can't reach him just confirms that Tom is responsible for Harry's disappearance. The only question is, which version is it? Is it the shade or the one Dmitri Markov nearly lost his life to?"

The old man almost smiled at the confused sound the phoenix made, "I know, Fawkes, only time will tell on that front." He sighed and raised his wand only to pause as he felt magic cross the wards. His connection to the wards allowed him to feel when people entered but also allowed him to ignore certain types of times of entry. During the tournament, he was able to acknowledge but not really feel the entries at the main gate. He did feel every instance a magical creature entered the school grounds, save for lower-level ones like Redcaps or nifflers.

Now, he felt eight or so magical beings enter the wards using magic as they did. They could not enter with a port key, all that entered Hogwarts had to be made while inside the wards and had to be done with authorization from him and the only ones made were the ones for the tournament. They could not Apparate either. Magical creature entry would feel differently, altered by the type of creature used so it must be brooms.

He slashed his wand quickly and precisely, dismantling the pyramid as quickly as he was able. As the structure disappeared, his eyes went to the sky, instantly finding the incoming intruders. "TAKE COVER," he shouted. "THE WARDS HAVE BEEN BREACHED. ENEMIES FROM THE SKY."

With a glance around the stadium, he took in a few points of destruction already and the brooms had not yet arrived. It looked like someone had attempted to take the judges platform and he could see blood; he could only hope that Percy had survived; his mother would be a nightmare to deal with if the boy had been injured in any way.

He could also see that his professors were spread around the stadium, directing students and guests alike. The only problem was, there were far too many people left in the stands for what was coming.

His eyes found Remus. The werewolf stood on the champions platform with Madam Pomfrey and the three remaining champions. She was crouched over the French champion while the boys stood at the ready wands poised for attack. Remus himself looked tense, his eyes tracking the approaching brooms. With relief, Albus watched the defense master crouch and speak to the healer. Poppy's head turned to the sky and then she was on her feet, pulling Fleur Delacour with her. The champions, healer and defense professor scattered and started for the exits just as he heard the unmistakable cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange as she pointed her wand at the platform and fired.

…

Despite the fact that his heart was in his throat, he continued to run, dodging around fleeing students and guests in an attempt to reach the platforms holding the champions and judges. Remus Lupin knew he could not focus on what was truly bothering him, because that would just cause him more pain and fear.

Harry had been his reason for living for so long and, while he had other reasons now, he was still the reason Remus had found peace in his life. Harry Potter was the reason for the bond between man and wolf. He was the reason Sirius was free. Without Harry, Fay would not be in his life. That kid was his courage. And now he was missing, presumably in the hands of the man who killed his parents and wanted him dead above all else.

When they heard the whispered torture curse, he and Severus had immediately started moving. The others had their orders, planned and given just in case something happened. Knowing the kids, they didn't even try to order them to retreat, especially because it was necessary for Draco and Harry to be on hand just in case Atonement could be of use. Instead, he and Severus had ordered them to help with any evacuations and to remain on the defensive. If any of them sought out an enemy, they would be in detention until they were fifty.

The hardest thing for him was leaving Aria behind, just as Severus struggled with allowing Narcissa to not only stay but do so without him to watch her back. Narcissa was a deadly weapon and could take care of herself, she had proven that time and again over the decades. Aria, while not the strongest duelist, was still very capable; those facts didn't negate the fear and wish that they could be somewhere safe and away from danger.

Remus dodged around a group of Hufflepuffs, the majority of them freezing in fear, "Get moving," he barked out, "Susan, clear the section and head to the school. Make your aunt proud." Before he turned the corner to head up a flight of stairs, he saw the fourth-year redhead nod and physically push her friend toward the closest exit. He just hoped it would be quick enough.

With a final push of speed, he bound up the steps connected to the champions platform. Poppy was already there and was handing a potion to Fleur Delacour. He watched the girl down the familiar potion and then started scanning the area. His wolf was on edge. Something was coming and it was not going to be good.

"We should get out of here," he said almost to himself but the two male champions must have heard him as they both tensed.

Cedric's wand made its way into his hand, while Viktor merely tightened his grip as he had never stowed his wand in his holster. "What is it, professor?" the Hufflepuff gulped.

"The headmaster called for an evacuation; I can only assume you were still stunned when he made the announcement." He looked to the healer, "Poppy, it isn't safe here. You should be in the castle."

"Miss Delacour needed immediate attention, Remus. She is too young for this."

"I do not refute that; you know how I was with Aria from her own exposure to the Cruciatus curse but everything in me is screaming that we are in imminent danger."

She looked at him then, knowing just how accurate his feelings could be. "Perhaps it is time to go then. Just let me go one more scan to make sure she isn't going to collapse from an aftershock."

"TAKE COVER, THE WARDS HAVE BEEN BREACHED. ENEMIES FROM THE SKY."

The five on the platform looked to the center of the stadium to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the middle of an empty field. Remus did not allow his gaze to linger and instead looked up and toward the forbidden forest, it was the most likely tactical entry. Had he not trained himself so thoroughly he would have frozen, instead he crouched, grabbing Poppy's arm, "Time to go," he pulled her to her feet and made his way toward the stairs. "Everyone, get off this platform now, we have escaped convicts incoming on brooms."

Remus pushed Poppy down the first stair just as he heard the unmistakable cackle of Bellatrix Lestrange. A moment later, the platform exploded in a blaze of flame and flying wood.

…

Albus watched with trepidation as the broom holding Bellatrix Lestrange and one other angle to the ground and landed a few feet from him. After more than a decade, Albus found himself facing Tom Riddle. He was younger than he should be; younger than he had been since they had last dueled meaning he was facing the Tom that was resurrected at the expense of Dmitri Markov's magic.

"Are you prepared to die, Dumbledore?" Bellatrix cooed in that way she loved so dearly; it caused a shiver to run down his spine. Though she had been a hard, unforgiving child, he had never dreamed she was capable of the destruction and madness she had wrought.

"He is mine, Bella," Tom waved her away, never taking his eyes off Albus. "Go have your fun with whomever you wish. Perhaps the little blond? She did escape you after all."

"You made a mistake coming here, Tom." Albus sighed. "I will not allow you to harm my students."

Tom spread his arms, "But I already have, Albus. I decided to break some of my friends out of prison and invite them to your tournament finale. Yaxley may have been pathetic but he was very informative about the plans of my other self. The shade was always planning to strike today so I thought I would come and have some fun myself. Take his plan to kidnap and add some death and destruction to the masses." He chuckled, "I will get rid of you and then track him down and kill him leaving me as the strongest wizard alive, I can't have competition after all. I will rule all, and it will be all your fault for not being able to stop me."

Do not underestimate me Tom, I have lived a long life. I know more about magic than you ever will."

"Oh Albus, I have gone farther than any before me. You may think that your advanced age will help you in this but you have no idea the lengths I have gone to in my road to glory."

"Splitting your soul was not the way to go, Tom."

The younger man shrugged, "Perhaps. I will admit that the other version of myself seems to have fallen over the edge between genius and insane but I have not. I decided to use other methods this time around. You will not win, old man."

"I know I can't talk you out of this, so I will have to stop you."

"You can try."

Albus was no fool. He knew that Tom would have done a number of dark rituals to increase his strength so he would have to strike hard and fast. His only hope of winning this was to surprise his opponent before he ran out of steam. As Tom raised his wand, Albus swirled his and conjured a flame whip and flung it at Tom. The younger man had to dance away from the flame as it nearly struck his wand.

"Old man has come to play," Tom mused as he regained his stance. "Let's see what you do with this, Avada Kedavra."

With a flick of his wand Albus cancelled the whip and conjured a block of stone to intercept the killing curse and then banished a few more at the younger man, these sharpened to points. "I have done this before, Tom. You will need more spells and skill than your minions to beat me."

"Then try this on for size," Tom twirled his wand in a complicated pattern, one Albus knew but also knew how to disrupt.

The headmaster flicked his wand, throwing a series of blasting, cutting and banishing spells at his opponent. He did not let up, continuing the stream, forcing Tom to either shield or dodge if he wanted to avoid injury and defeat.

The measure of a true fighter was the ability to change tactics and be inventive. If there was one thing Albus had always thought about himself it was that he was inventive. He had always enjoyed coming up with new ways to use things, it was why he helped find so many uses for dragon's blood. Transfiguration specialists tended to be good at this and that was why he knew, if he kept moving, he could stop Tom Riddle, no matter how talented or powerful he was.

He would win, or die trying.

…

Veela were stronger than normal witches. They had stronger reflexes, more power and could withstand more destructive magics. She knew this, had been told this all her life and had even noticed it during school.

Being hit by the Cruciatus curse made her wonder how anyone survived exposure. If her ancestry made her stronger, then regular witches would feel it more and she was sure they would not be able to move at all if she was having difficulty. The potion the healer had given her had helped. As the liquid went down her throat, she had felt a wave of cold touch her. as the cold cleared, her pain decreased. After a minute, she didn't really feel pain at all, though to be fair she was partially numb so she wasn't sure if it had made the pain go away or if it had just numbed her pain receptors.

Then the Hogwarts Headmaster had yelled his warning and Harry's wolf uncle had told them to run. The warning came just in time and at the same time a second too late. Even with her advanced speed she would never make it to the stairs.

She heard the laughing and saw the woman point her wand at them, so she turned and used option number two.

Fleur launched herself off the champions platform a second before the blasting curse hit. The force of the blast sent her tumbling as she hit the ground forcing herself to roll. It was luck more than anything that allowed her to keep hold of her wand.

Looking back, she could see that the platform had been blown to pieces and only a small section of the flooring remained. She could only hope that the boys and madam Pomfrey were alright.

"Such a pretty little girl," a dark-haired woman cooed. "Too bad she didn't die when she was supposed to, it would have been less painful. CRUCIO."

Fleur dove to the side, using her Veela reflexes to avoid the curse and to allow herself to roll into a crouching position, wand at the ready. She cast a blasting curse at the woman before she had fully oriented herself and followed it up with a nasty cutting curse she had only ever cast once before at conjured targets. The blasting curse was off target and hit the ground at the woman's feet sending grass and dirt flying. Her cutting curse was perfectly aimed.

The mad woman flicked her wand, casting a powerful shielding spell that clanged when the curse impacted it. "Pretty girl has some bite to her." She giggled menacingly, "Does she want to play."

The blonde gulped, recognizing who the woman was. Fleur may have been a young child when the last British wizarding war ended but she still knew who Bellatrix Lestrange was. There was only one person that was feared more than the insane woman and that was the Dark Lord himself. It was believed that Bellatrix was responsible for more deaths than even her lord.

"I will not let you kill anyone," Fleur got to her feet, glaring at the woman with more courage on her face than she actually felt. "Do you think you are woman enough to face me?" She allowed herself to shift, allowing her avian features to come forward. Her left hand became engulfed in fire as she pointed her wand at the woman with the other.

Bellatrix laughed maniacally, "I am going to enjoy killing you, creature. You don't deserve to live."

Fleur threw the fireball in her hand toward the murderous woman at the same time she started casting. The Veela used her speed and reflexes to her advantage, dodging deadly spells while countering with fire and her own destructive spell knowledge. This was not the time to stun, not when your opponent was intent on killing you; this was the time to incapacitate by any means necessary.

Cutting curses, blasting hexes, projectiles, banishers, fire. No matter what she did, the cackling woman blocked or danced away from them in a way that should not be possible for someone who had spent over a decade in Azkaban.

Fleur let out a cry of pain as she was clipped by a blasting curse. Luckily it was mostly the backlash of the spell or she would have been dead. The curse sent her sprawling, disoriented and defenseless.

Bellatrix Lestrange sauntered up to her as if the mad woman didn't have a care in the world. "I knew you wouldn't be a match for me. No creature will ever measure up to a lady of house Black." She licked the blood off her lip. Her face had been cut by some flying debris, which only made the woman angrier. "Any last words?"

Her wand tip lit up with green light a moment before she opened her mouth. Fleur closed her eyes, not wanting to see the spell that would end her life in an instant.

It never came.

Instead, she heard a frantic shield spell and the heat of a fiery explosion between her and the woman who would have murdered her.

"You are no lady of House Black," Bill Weasley growled, moving in front of Fleur. "I know two and they are far superior to you."

"My sisters are weak," she wheezed. "They are mice compared to me."

"Prove it. Do you think you can take on a curse breaker?" He didn't give her time to answer. Bill attacked with a flurry of spells, most of which were either cast too quickly for her to differentiate or were foreign to her.

Fleur watched amazed as the deadliest woman in recent history was put on the defensive. Shielding and dodging. Bellatrix had not cast one offensive spell since Bill began his onslaught.

The Veela was watching carefully, ready to intervene if needed. Because of her attention, she saw the smirk slowly spread across the lunatic's face. That smile claimed victory in a time when it should seem impossible. Fleur looked around quickly and nearly jumped when she saw another escaped convict approaching from Bill's blind spot.

With a shriek of rage, Fleur launched herself into the air, relying on her avian form to carry her and dive bombed the approaching man. The impact sent them both tumbling to the ground. She struggled to breathe and hoped that the man had also had the wind knocked out of him.

While Fleur had been taking care of the intruder, Bill had been busy. The smile on his opponent's face had concerned him and he had assumed there was something he was not seeing but he knew the second he let any of his attention slip she would kill him. All he could do was hope that he could destroy her first or that Fleur would have his back. A smile of his own spread across his face when he felt the younger woman leap.

He had not let the young woman's shriek distract him, his training would not allow it, instead he continued his attack. Luckily for him, his opponent had let Fleur distract her. The moment her eyes left Bill, following Fleur, he struck, hitting her with an ancient Egyptian curse that had no counter. It could not be shielded. There was no escape beyond dodging. The black curse struck the woman who was feared by all and she started to melt. Her skin heated and began to slide from her bones, steam rising from every inch of flesh. The scream that ripped from her throat spoke of excruciating pain.

Bill did not let himself get distracted by the disturbing sight of a woman literally melting to death. Instead, he whirled, prepared to take on whomever had been attempting to take him by surprise.

He found Fleur and Augustus Rockwood both on the ground, both struggling to gain their breath. Scanning the area quickly and knowing that most were distracted by the death of Bellatrix Lestrange, he acted quickly. The spell was tricky and took more time than was typically available when in battle but in this case, he was sure he would have just enough time.

The words were both familiar and foreign. He could speak to them but did not know exactly what they meant; he only knew what wizards today assumed they meant. What he did know was that the spell would put his opponent into a deep sleep that could not be countered easily. He was casting spells that emulated the drought of living death so perfectly that even potions masters would assume the individual had been doused with the liquid. If he succeeded, Rockwood, a former unspeakable, would be out of the battle for good.

When the silver spell left his wand, he knew he had succeeded.

"Are you alright?" he crouched next to Fleur, helping her sit.

She nodded, "I am fine. I just hit him harder than I meant to and lost my breath for a moment." She looked at the downed man, "Is he dead?"

Bill shook his head, "No, only sleeping. No one here should know how to wake him up again, he is the only one that might have had the knowledge, so he should be out of the fight for good."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"No, thank you. If it wasn't for you distracting them both, we would both be dead." He pulled her to her feet, "We have to get moving. Someone is bound to notice us if we stay here too long, and I have to see if I can find my siblings."

"I have your back," she held her wand at the ready, scanning the area. "Harry would be most unhappy if something happened to the twins."

…

Albus faltered when he felt the port key slam into the wards. It would have been a costly mistake if Alastair hadn't shielded him in time. The altered cutting curse that Tom cast in his moment of distraction was perfectly aimed and would have taken his head had the overpowered dome shield not sprung into place at the last possible second.

"Constant vigilance, Albus. Don't let anything distract you," the grizzled, scarred former Auror growled.

"Sorry my friend," he breathed out while scanning the tournament field, "A port key breached the wards and it can only be the one that took Harry away from Hogwarts."

As the words left his mouth, two figures appeared a few feet away, standing where the Triwizard cup had been sitting before the pyramid was dismissed. In wonder, Albus watched Harry push the other traveler with all his might, causing the bald man to fall back and land heavily on the ground.

Luckily, the arrival of the port key had also distracted Tom. The resurrected dark lord was looking at the pair with a raised eyebrow and amusement on his face. "Is that the boy my followers claim I am hell bent on destroying? Pathetic."

Albus paid the man no mind, instead he focused on identifying the individual who Harry brought with him. His identity would be important, otherwise Harry would have found a way to lose him in transit, of that the headmaster was sure.

He felt his stomach drop when the man gained his feet. Despite the deformities, Albus knew exactly who this was. Tom Riddle; bald, missing a nose, and looking far too much like a serpent but still the self-named Lord Voldemort that haunted his nightmares on the nights he struggled to sleep. It seemed both versions of young Tom had decided to attack on the same night, just as his dueling opponent said, but at least their targets appeared to be different.

While his Tom was still distracted by the new arrivals, he struck. He would have to end this Tom quickly if they were to have any hope of stopping them both. Albus redoubled his efforts, throwing more destructive curses with every flick of his wand. He wouldn't admit it if asked later but he definitely threw some curses that were decidedly gray; curses that in all honesty probably should be unforgivable because there really was no light reason to use them, they were only created for destruction and pain. In this situation, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Beside him, Alastair continued his own assault. He had chosen to remain on guard while they took stock of the port key's arrival. He had shielded Albus and himself while keeping one eye on their opponent and allowed the other to watch what happened with Harry and his passenger.

Albus and Alastair were brutal. Accurate, quick and destructive but Tom was younger. The dark lord they faced had his youth, he was perhaps in his mid-thirties giving him a body not bogged down by age or injury which gave him the advantage of speed and maneuverability. Knowing the man as he did, Albus was sure Tom had undergone any number of rituals to increase his power and stamina in anticipation for this duel. Albus was nearly out of breath while Alastair was hampered by his artificial leg. Without the ex Auror's help, Albus would have lost easily despite his experience. Tom always had been a thorough overachiever. It seemed that even as young as he was, he still knew far too many dark, dangerous magics for comfort.

It was Lucius Malfoy that caused him to lose his concentration completely. Severus had stepped in and started dueling the older Voldemort to get Harry clear. What the paranoid potions master didn't see was his former friend sneaking up behind him, wand drawn and a malicious smile painted on his face.

As his wand tip glowed emerald green, Albus straightened and threw his hand out toward the other dueling pair. "Fawkes," he shouted, and due to their bond, the phoenix knew what he wished.

The pure hearted bird flamed into existence between Severus and Lucius, materializing just in time to take the killing curse meant for the younger man. Albus let out a sigh of relief when he saw his young friend still standing and knew that his companion would eventually be alright, once he had finished growing, that was the beauty of the phoenix.

While Lucius was distracted by the appearance of the magnificent bird of flame, others were not. Narcissa Black was not a woman to be trifled with because her ire was to be avoided. There was one man who had never quite remembered just how dangerous she could be. While Lucius was trying to curse her fiancé behind his back, she was running as fast as she could to try to defend her love. While she felt relief when the phoenix intercepted the killing curse, she didn't not allow herself to slow. If given the chance, Lucius would do the same again and again. Narcissa was sure that he wouldn't even stop at cursing his son in the back.

With a rage she rarely allowed to the surface she cast a curse few knew and even fewer knew how to cast. A silver light hit Lucius Malfoy, sending him to his knees then face first into the grass, wide eyed and silent. To everyone watching, it would appear as though he succumbed to a forced sleep. In all actuality, he had died. When the curse hit him, his insides began to change. His organs, one by one, became stone while his blood thickened and eventually solidified. All of this, he felt but was unable to scream because the first thing to solidify was his vocal cords. The last thing to stop working were his pain receptors. Lucius Malfoy died a silent, painful death at the hands of a woman he thought beneath him. She had warned him years ago not to cross her, it seemed death was the only way he would realize how true that warning was.

Tom smirked upon seeing Albus distracted by the blonde's cowardly attack. Lucius was not his father, but he did have his uses and though he was now dead, he had done his job well enough. Taking advantage, he attacked. With a blast of untapped power, he sent an exceptionally overpowered banishing charm blasting Alastair Mad-Eye Moody away, breaking through his shield and sending him flying. He smirked as the man hit the ground, bouncing with the force of the impact, taking him at least temporarily out of the fight.

"AVADA KEDAVRA," he smirked, casting the curse with no counter at his greatest enemy. In a flash of brilliant green light, Albus Dumbledore fell to the ground, lifeless. On June 17, under a beautiful sunset, Albus Dumbledore died defending his students and teachers.

It was the end of a legend.

I know, I'm horrible. In my defense, 2020 transferring into 2021 was not great. I ended the year getting passed up for a promotion by someone outside the company and have since had to train him and fix his mistakes...Add to that my grandfather dying and a snow storm knocking out internet for a week and power for five days and you have a recipe for disaster. I am working on the next chapter now. Hopefully I can have something for you soon but only my brain knows how long I will be inspired to write.

I am working on 45, some is written I just need to organize and decide what is needed and not.

Wolf