He was in the middle of the war again. Not he was ever truly was able to leave war behind; Not after it had dominated his life for so long.

He was using muggle weapons again. Somehow it gave him minute satisfaction to watch Death Eaters be destroyed by 'inferior' devices.

Their bigotry was their downfall.

Muggle bombs didn't set off there protection wards; And he knew how to slip past them, avoiding the nastier ones that would have any number of 'unpleasant' effects upon intruders.

He watched the timer in his hand, as bright numbers flitted across it. '5, 4, 3, 2, 1.' Explosions ripped through the night. Fire flared in the dark; Sound ripped through the night.

He waited at the main entrance. Naturally, with the building is on fire, you run for the nearest and largest exit. He played this game to well -though truly that was discordant comparison.

He stood by the entrance to what was seemingly just a cave, and eyed the black figures pouring out. Most ran out without looking back, not caring for anyone's safety but their own.

A least a dozen of them were in sight now, the farthest a good twenty feet away and still moving, still well within then apparition barrier.

All at once, a force bowled most of them over, sending them flying back towards him. Sprawled on the ground, it wasn't especially difficult to curse most of them before they realized what was happening.

And he was not shy about using the killing curse.

He would leave some alive if possible for the Order to find, to get information from; His main priority, though, was to take them down. He knew full well the idealism that would have stayed most others, and agreed with them. He also accepted the other side of life, that imbued all cynics with sarcasm.

He winced in sympathy as one of them, running heedlessly through the illusionary cave entrance, tripped over a body. Ouch. She'd be unconscious for a while, having hit the towering rockface the ringed the mountain.

More Death Eaters were streaming out; This was one of the larger bases, yet least defended, which is why he had chosen to attack it. One of the Death Eaters on the ground was shouting for them to 'get him.' Good luck with that.

He used simple dodge, duck, and run tactics for a while, always moving, always cursing. The ground below was mostly dirt and rock, twigs and stones littering it.

Currently he was about ten feet from the entrance. One nasty spell did manage to hit him, but lucky for him that it didn't damage him physically. Sure, it felt like the entire left side of his torso had been shredded –skin, flesh, bone, organs and all –but he could grit his teeth and move on.

That brief moment, however, was all it took to leave him disarmed –there were more Death Eaters than he had counted on. Must have been a meeting. Joy.

He had more tricks up his sleeve, however. He started off running in a random direction, using all his speed to keep ahead of the curses. He closed he eyes for a brief moment, needing to concentrate, hoping that he would not stumble.

That would be very inconvenient.

Suddenly, he was not there. Or rather, they could not see him. They all frantically shot curses at where he had been, figuring out that he was now invisible.

Didn't do them any good. He crouched and used his free moment to summon Gryffindor's sword. He started towards the nearest Death Eater.

Some of them would already be fleeing if they didn't know what Voldemort's wrath was like.

As they saw comrades go down spurting blood they shot curses and hexes at where he should be. Thanks to his many hours exercising, he avoided all of them, and they only succeeding in hitting nothing or each other.

Now they did flee. See ya later.

It wouldn't be so easy much longer –in fact, he expected it to be much harder next time. He was milking his anonymity for all it was worth.

He'd plan later though. Now, if he remembered correctly, this was also one of Voldemort's mini-prisons. He had people to rescue; Information to find.

And sooner or later, he might see his friends again.