Professor Alan Vector rushed into his classroom, shoes untied and hair uncombed. He stood in the door and surveyed the class, it was in a state of uproar, most the 5th years were talking at the top of their lungs, a few of the boys were wrestling, a small group of girls were singing some muggle song he didn't recognise and in the midst of all this commotion Hermione Granger of Gryffindor was sitting at her usual desk, her nose in a book. He admired her concentration skills.

"Alright settle down and take your seats," he ordered, then strode to the front desk and placed his bag by the chair. Only half the class had obeyed, the others preferring to complete their conversations, and in the girls case finish off the verse of their song. "I SAID SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!" he bellowed. The class stopped and stared, there was a quiet scuffle as those who were standing, took their seats. They were in shock, Professor Vector rarely lost his temper and he had never before yelled at them. "Ok, I know I'm late, I'm sorry, I was delayed. Now, we're going to start a new section, this will be included in your OWL exams as well, so pay attention, turn to page 215 in your textbooks."

There was a quiet murmuring as the students pulled out their books and turned to the page, the students were curious to what was wrong with their Arithmancy professor. They were concerned, they liked their usually calm and jolly teacher, he was different to many of the professors, he was patient, he respected them, and they all respected him.

"Ok now read the first 2 pages and then answer the questions on page 3, then we'll have a discussion about them, you have 25 minutes." The class began their work, sharing whispered comments on Professor Vector's mysterious behaviour. Gradually the class's noise level returned to its usual daily volume, Professor Vector flicked his wand at the board, instructions for an assignment appearing, along with a due date. He then sat at his desk, pulled the Daily Prophet out of his bag and was quickly engrossed in reading its contents. 20 minutes later and in the middle of reading an article, he was interrupted by Padma Patil, "Sir? We've all finished our work," she called.

Professor Vector raised his head in surprise, he looked at his watch, "Good show everyone," he complimented, "Now, who can tell me the effect that the combination of 54 and 23 have and its relevance to those in mourning?" The class shuffled dumbly, the Professor smiled slightly, it was a tough question, but as usual Hermione Granger's hand had shot up into the air, "I see." he said, "obviously most of you need more work on this, Miss Granger, well done 10 points for Gryffindor and no homework," she smiled at him shyly, "Now, as for the rest of you, read the next three pages of your books, then answer all the questions on page 220 and write a paragraph answering the question I just asked. This is due tomorrow."

The class stared, but the Professor continued obliviously, "Also some of you would have noticed that I have put an assignment up on the board. This is due next Wednesday and must be at least 2 rolls of standard parchment." There was an indigent outcry from most of the students upon hearing this, "Sir-" "Professor, that's really-" "we can't do-"

"QUIET" said Professor Vector harshly. The class quietened, "All of you need to complete this assignment." he said sternly, "now copy it down, then you are dismissed, I have something I need to attend to," With that said, Professor Vector grabbed his bag and his paper and strode briskly out of the classroom and down the hall, leaving the class staring after him.

As his footsteps died away the class burst into conversation, "What was that about?" questioned one student, "Homework AND an assignment! He must have gone mad!" exclaimed Padma, "seems a tad off, maybe something catastrophic happened to him?" suggested a pompous blond haired boy. "Maybe he was poisoned?" piped up a pig tailed girl, "Or bitten by a Thwaticus, they can have grouchy side effects," said one kid knowingly, "He could have been kidnapped, and this is an impostor using the Poly-juice potion!"

"Don't be ridiculous," snapped Hermione, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "The school has precautions against that sort of thing, after what happened last year," She stalked out of the classroom, leaving the rest of her class to their speculations. -- Professor Vector stalked along a long corridor on the 7th floor, not heading anyplace particularly, just following the shuffles of his own feet. Following his memories. Every corner he turned, every door he walked through, the memories of his time at Hogwarts, the time spent here with Fabian Prewett; his best friend, attacked him with powerful waves of emotion.

The death of his best mate was intolerably painful for Alan. Time had taken the raw pain away, but now, with the cause of his friends death, his murderer; Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov; recently escaped, in the mass outbreak of Azkaban along with 10 other prisoners had reopened the wound, seeing Dolohov's long, pale, twisted face brought with it a fierce hunger for revenge. He wondered how the loved ones of the other escapee's victims were feeling, Neville Longbottom, whose parents had been tortured into insanity, Susan Bones, whose Uncle, Aunt and 2 cousins had died, so many victims, so much death, and Alan Vector could do nothing.

He was not an Auror, he was not good enough to be one, Alan was the smart one, Fabian had had the skills in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but even so, in the end, it wasn't enough. Fabian and his older brother Gideon had fought like heroes; it took 5 Death Eaters to kill them both. No, Alan himself wasn't powerful enough, or strong enough, to exact vengeance on Dolohov, there was nothing he could do. He had to trust others to the task.

The Ministry of Magic, which didn't even believe that Voldemort had returned, was in charge of the recapture of the escaped convicts. Alan didn't hold much faith in that. The Ministry Aurors, and Hit Wizards were talented, to be sure, but controlled by a man whose stupidity was even larger then his top hat, they didn't have a chance. Alan suspected that Dumbledore had started taking action towards fighting Voldemort, but he feared it wouldn't be enough. It took a miracle to defeat the Dark Lord during his last reign. He doubted that the same thing was likely to happen a second time.

No, they would fight, some would die, who knows how it would end. Alan punched the wall, numb to the pain that the stonewall was inflicting on his fist he struck again, repeatedly. His inner conflict tormenting him, his lust for revenge fighting against his sensible nature. He would do what he could. But it wouldn't be enough. He was helpless.