Chapter 13: The Fall of Azkaban

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While Harry and the Marauders, as well as half the Order under Professor McGonnagall were fighting Voldemort's forces outside the Ministry, Dumbledore took the other half of the Order to Azkaban.

When they arrived, they found that the gates to the great wizarding prison were already opened. The bodies of two of the special Auror guards lay on the ground. The group drew their wands and passed through the gates, fanning out so that they could cover a larger area.

The grounds immediately on the other side of the gate were deserted. An eerie silence engulfed the whole island.

"Everyone remain alert." Dumbledore said. After several minutes they approached the gigantic castle that served as the prison. As they approached the entrance, a tall, black-robed figure appeared, its red eyes glowing with anticipation.

"Greetings Dumbledore. I see you were foolish enough to come." Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Riddle, said hissing. "And I see you've brought some friends. Excellent."

"I see you are pleasant as ever, Tom." Dumbledore replied, sarcastically.

"Don't call me that! That person is dead!" Voldemort said in anger. Then he calmed down and smiled again. "Very nice Dumbledore. But you will not distract me by making me angry. Allow me to introduce you to a few of my friends."

A wave of cold swept over the members of the Order. Dozens of Dementors slowly glided towards them. Behind the Dementors were the Deatheaters.

"Expecto Patronum!" a series of voices shouted. From among the members of the Order, a series of silvery shapes charged forward, tearing into the Dementors, driving some of them off. Then, all at once, all hell broke loose as the Deatheaters began hurling curses at the Order. Green, red, and blue bolts flew through the air.

The members of the Order scattered, attempting to doge their foes curses. Most were successful, but several were hit, dropping to the ground.

"Stupefy!" Sirius cried at the Deatheater nearest him. He smiled with grim satisfaction as his opponent fell to the ground. He glanced around at the scene unfolding before him. Several members of the Order were sprawled on the ground, motionless. The rest were fighting with grim determination, but it was obvious the odds were not in their favor. In addition to the five-dozen Dementors, there were over a hundred Deatheaters against only about three-dozen members of the Order.

Sirius fired another Patronus towards a Dementor that was stalking one of the wounded members of the Phoenix. The Dementor glided off. Hearing a scream behind him, he whirled to see Remus Lupin, on the ground, writhing in pain, clearly under the influence of the Cruciatus curse. Sirius fired a curse at the Deatheater, hitting him in the chest, and releasing Remus from the curse. Sirius ran over to him and helped him up.

"Thanks Padfoot." Remus said, trying to catch his breath.

"My pleasure Mooney." Sirius replied, before they both turned their attention back to battle before them.

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"We finish this once and for all Dumbledore." Voldemort said. While the rest of the Order and Voldemort's forces were fighting, the two wizards faced off against each other. "Today you die." With that he hurled a death curse at him. Dumbledore managed to dodge the curse, and sent another in return.

"You cannot win Tom. Even if you manage to kill me there are others that will take my place. And they will defeat you." Dumbledore replied. Voldemort avoided Dumbledore's curse.

"I suppose you are referring to young Mr. Potter." Voldemort said with a sneer. "He too shall bow before me as I drain his life away."

The duel continued for several minutes. Dumbledore was clearly a very powerful wizard, and in his prime would easily have been a match for Voldemort. However, age was rapidly taking its toll on Dumbledore. He had several near misses with some of Voldemort's curses, as evident from the scrapes and blood on his robes. Voldemort too had several small injuries, but being younger, was not as vulnerable.

Finally luck ran out for Dumbledore. A shrapnel curse exploded near him, throwing him to the ground and injuring him. Smugly, Voldemort stalked over to him.

"How the mighty have fallen. Now you die!" Voldemort said, raising his wand and pointing it at his long time foe. But before he could utter the death curse, a voice rang out from behind him.

"Not today, Tom!"