Hermione looked over the map in the captain's quarters of the ship that her Lord had provided for her and her team's travel back to her home of Britain. Adrian was present, leaning against the wall with a cigarette in his fingers. Idly he played with it, lighting it with his fingertips and wandless magic, before snuffing it out before it could burn for more than a moment.

"I don't know where we can land that won't have the Ministry all over us. Even with our numbers, I don't want to fight the Aurors if I can help it." Hermione finally admitted with a huff as she looked back up from the map. For this mission, critical to the war effort, Hermione was given command of an entire legion of her Lord's forces. Twenty magicals, organized well could topple countries with the right leadership. However, that was only the case if they could enter the country. Add in the First Lieutenant, and Hermione was certain that they could pull the mission off.

"Why don't we just attack Azkaban by sea?" One of the more senior members of the legion, Jonathan Mangrove asked. He was a muggleborn Hogwarts graduate from the late 80s, with a shaved head and a piercing in his left nostril. He was one of the few on the ship who Hermione was fairly certain could handle a single Auror without assistance. Of course, if they did as he suggested they would be dealing with more than just a single Auror. A lot more than a single Auror.

"Azkaban is one of the most well-guarded locations in Britain. Off the top of my head, I can think of only one location with better defenses than Azkaban and that's Hogwarts." The whole of the cabin shuddered slightly at the thought of attempting to capture the castle with both Dumbledore and Flamel present. The only one that did not bulk at the thought was Adrian, who nodded thoughtfully.

"The general is correct. Azkaban is not an easy assignment. It is isolated by sea, yes, but it is also steeped in wards to ensure the protection of the island and its contents. After all, it wasn't always a prison." Adrian spoke as he eyed a single island off the west coast of the country.

Hermione nodded, having studied as much of the island as possible before boarding the ship. "Lord Frankenstein is correct. Not only is Azkaban a prison, but it is also a fortress and houses the largest nest of Dementors in Europe. Unless you have a method to defeat a few hundred and haven't shared, simply attacking would be suicide. That doesn't even count the Auror response that triggering the wards would bring on." Glancing back at Adrian, Hermione smiled. "Even with the First Lieutenant, I don't want to deal with hundreds of dementors and a few squads of Aurors."

"Yes Ma'am," Jonathan nodded, properly chastised. Hermione looked back blushing slightly.

"I appreciate the input Jon. Continue to do so. We need multiple ideas." Looking back at the map, she pointed to a small inlet cove near the city of Falmouth. "We will land here. This time of year there are several storms in the area, and having a ship appear shouldn't throw the magicals into a frenzy as long as we don't go in wands blazing."

Adrian smiled as Hermione continued to give orders. Slipping silently from the room, he made his way to the deck, and looked over the waves. "Soon…"

Nicolas stared out over the stary sky later that very night from atop the astronomy tower. A goblet was in his hand, its smokey contents steaming in the cool air. Mentally, he was far away. His mind was back in France, in his cozy cottage with his darling wife as they prepared their birthday dinner. Every year, baring this one of course, they would meet up on this date and share a dinner together that they cooked as husband and wife. A tradition of their marriage. He scowled at the goblet he drank from, before downing the entirety of the warmed Elixir. With a snarl, he threw the goblet over the edge of the palisade, knowing it would vanish before it hit the ground.

His magic pulsed under his skin as the Elixir worked its magic on his body, and his thoughts flickered to the reaction he was certain the news of his Perenelle's capture would elicit from his former apprentice. A man without a family, who was the Alchemist's first, and only unwilling on his part, apprentice. A man who his wife treated as the son she could never have for over two decades.

He remembered when the bond first formed between him and Adrian; it was after he taught him the proper method of creating an alchemic circle to focus magic that he felt a twinge between them as Adrian casually called him Master Flamel. That bond was forged between them, unwillingly on his part, as he never wanted an apprentice. What use was a student when you lived eternally?

Adrian… Adrian changed his mind, with the help of his wife. Their relationship was great, until he refused to grant him the elixir. It was the couple's largest fight, arguing about if they would grant this young man eternity. Nicolas was certain it was a curse, and still thought that to this day. Perenelle, argued that it was the ultimate gift. An argument never finished.

He remembered that night, bolting out of bed as the wards on the house flashed as the mob outside threw torches and buckets of pitch at the house to burn them alive. He struggled to hold the wards as Perenel gathered all the necessities, including the ingredients to create their elixir. After ten minutes of holding the wards and keeping their house upright with his magic, and finally, his apprentice appears.

Calm as a tranquil lake, Adrian smirked at him, as he held a vial of liquid gold up for the Flamels to see. And then he was gone as the wards finally collapsed, and Nicolas and his wife apparated away.

It would only be years later that they finally found him, already too late. He had transformed, with bone-white hair and tired eyes. He stank of dark magic, blood and sweat. Around the hidden laboratory that Nicolas had cornered him in, piles of bodies and their parts littered the corners, and monstrous experimentations barred his path. Vampires wearing collars that were bonded to their very flesh and would shock them if they strayed, Lethifolds and Shaddol constructs controlled by the dark energies that were created in the location, and even a butler that had metal hands and an attitude issue. All fell before Nicolas came to his student, who had apparently already granted himself his immortality.

Nicolas shook his head, coming back to the present as his current apprentice called for him from the stairs. His eyes glanced towards the South West as a twinge on his magic confirmed what he knew would occur. He kept his mouth shut as he turned to go down the stairs.

Two fronts were better to accomplish one's goals than a singular one after all.

Cedric frowned as he researched the possible rites and rituals that Voldemort could create that would harness vampiric properties. Of the many different ideas, none fit with what he believed the man desired. He didn't care about becoming a pure-blood, not that they were even certain of Lady Flamel's blood status, so that took out the various vampiric adoptions that for some reason existed. It couldn't even grant him access to the Flamel wealth, now that Lucius had disappeared, as Nicolas hid all his wealth in various locations that were all locked behind wards that not even his wife could break without destroying what was inside. That left the only solution that Cedric could think of, and it was a vague reference.

He still carried the slip of paper with him to the Headmaster's study. It was the only lead they had over the last several weeks of constant research. As he knocked and was permitted entrance, he realized that the room was full. All of the Hogwarts staff alongside Harry and Fredrick were present.

Cedric smiled sheepishly as the headmaster asked,"What has gave us the pleasure of your company Cedric?"

"I think, I may know what Voldemort is doing." Dumbledore looked shocked for a second before he schooled his features.

"Everyone excluding Nicolas, Harry, Fredrick, Filius and Minera, we shall continue this conversation at a later date. Severus, I would include you, however I don't believe the risk…" The Potions master shook his head.

"Headmaster, it would be wise to avoid giving me any knowledge of what you know or plan. While I am certain the Dark Lord does not suspect me, I would not wish to risk having such knowledge in case I am wrong." With his piece said, he swept from the room, firmly locking the door behind him which Harry enforced with a series of charms to ensure privacy.

When the final spell simmered against the door, Cedric immediately started to speak. "We know Voldemort is doing some form of vampiric ritual, that he was modifying or creating. That led us to the research we have been doing. While everyone else was searching for how the ritual would be modified, I took a step back… a few actually." Harry nodded along, having done similarly with his own research while Fredrick looked surprised that he hadn't thought of that. Cedric continued, "I focused on the vampiric nature. Most rituals that would be considered vampiric are entirely useless for him. However, I did read something that would be interesting if adapted to a ritual." He held up the slip before handing it to the Headmaster.

Albus swiftly read what was on the parchment, his eyes widening as thoughts raced through his mind. "Harry, you have access to millions of memories, Nicolas you are possibly the most well-learned man I know, do you think this is accurate?" He moved the parchment so the two could bend over and read it.

Harry rapidly consulted his various ancestors, his mind racing. Nicolas cursed as he turned away, his mind swiftly going through the various alchemical calculations to theorize if it was even possible. Fredrick opened his mouth a single sound escaping before Harry silenced him with a glance.

"I'm… unsure. Vampires are one of the few topics that no one is completely certain on, but it would make sense. There are a few instances where a vampire knew something that would only be explained by that." Harry spoke as he glanced at his master who seemingly finished his mental calculations.

"Alchemically… its possible. Especially if it was a magical' s blood. I know that a vampire that feeds on a magical creature gains a property based around their prey. Partially why it is illegal for vampires to feed on dragons, giants or unicorns…." Nicolas trailed off as he thought deeper on the topic. Albus shared a look at Harry who shook his head slightly. They had both noticed the effects of the absence of Perenelle had on their eldest friend.

"If we assume this is the case, then we can narrow down the requirements…" Fredrick finally spoke up, his voice quiet as they looked at a map of Magical Britain. With swift circles of his wand, he circled various locations on the map with red. "If I remember the ICW debrief of the country correctly, these locations are hot spots of Dark Magic." On the map several locations were circled such as Knockturn Alley, Puzzlewood Forest, and Shade's Rock deep in the Forbidden Forest. Also circled locations were Azkaban, the Tower of London and the Forest of Dean.

"Hmm… You forgot here and here." Albus circled two more locations, them being the Hellfire Caves and the Isle of Man. "While the Auror Academy is on the Isle of Man, it is there as both a strategic location and as a deterrent. There was a coven of vampires that called the Isle home until about 1723 if memory serves."

Harry nodded,"I think we need to narrow down where this could be further. It couldn't just be dark magic that is present, but a certain kind. It has to be hungry, powerful and easily defendable." A few flicks of the wand immediately eliminated the highly populated locations baring Puzzlewood, the Tower, Azkaban, and Shade's Rock, leaving a total of five locations if they included the still circled Isle of Man.

"Its still too many." Nicolas frowned. All of these were viable for a vampiric ritual to suck the memories of someone's magic. The Isle of man had the necessary nexus of magic but housed the Auror Academy, a daunting target. Shade's Rock was arguably the most powerful nexus of dark energies in the entirety of Britain, yet was a stone throw from Hogwarts and deep in the Forbidden Forest, beyond even the Centaurs. Puzzlewood was a magical maze that shifted nearly constantly, each twist winding deeper and deeper into the wood until you hit the Fairy's Circle in the center of the wood. The Tower of London was heavily defendable by the Ministry as it was directly above it, though it would allow Voldemort immediate access to the ministry if he succeeded. Azkaban was a can of worms he didn't even want to discuss. If the ritual occurred there, the chances of success were so low with the presence of the Dementors he nearly eliminated it himself.

Harry looked at the circled locations and he cocked his head. He stared for many minutes, ignoring the various conversations that occurred around him. Finally, he smiled.

"It doesn't matter where it is. It can't happen yet. One, it will take time to move the resources required to the location. Two, it has to happen at some point of pivot in the year, my guess is either Samhain, or the Winter Solstice."

Albus looked at Harry with a frown, "Why do you say that?"

"Voldemort is dramatic. He would want it to work on a significant day. His greatest triumph, his coup de grace, he would want it on a date that would make sense to his ego." Harry explained as the rest of the room nodded.

"I hope you are correct young Harry." Albus looked at Nicolas who stared off into space. "For more than our sakes."

Voldemort smiled as the blood circle was completed. It seemed it was finally time. He looked at the sky, filled with darkness and stars. He raised his arms and the candles that his followers had placed on the rocks of the fairy circle in the middle of the Puzzlewood all lit simultaneously. It had taken them these last several weeks, but he had quietly moved his supplies. Of course, he would have liked to do this on Samhain, but after Lucius' disappearance…

Voldemort shook thoughts of what his Death Eater could have been forced to reveal before his disappearance. He was certain that Lucius was still alive, as he could feel the magic of the Dark Mark still pulsing, even if it was never designed to allow him to track his servants. It was a complicated mess of magic as it was to allow them to apparate to his location regardless of if they had visited it before, while also serving as an identification.

He glanced at the woman chained to the rock that was always found in the middle of the Fairy Ring of Puzzlewood, perfectly placed for rituals and rites. With a shift of his shoulders, he shed his outer robes, showing the black tunic he wore, along with the runes carved into his arms. As he stepped into the circle, the candles placed on the forty-nine stones that created the circle flared their flames higher. The runes that were painted on Perenelle's form lit in horrid green light and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

With slow, exaggerated motions, Voldemort started to move around the circle, touching a rune to a blazing candle until it was unrecognizable in the burnt flesh and the candle immediately went out. As he moved on, the smoke from the now flameless candle formed the rune that was burned away. Voldemort continued his movements, ignoring the now seizing form of Madam Flamel.

Once his circuit was completed, he took the two steps required to reach Perenelle's head, placing his fingertips along her face, and his thumbs firmly on her temples. Instantly, her movements ceased, and her eyes, who's pupils already covered the irises of her eyes, expanded until the whites themselves were mere black pits. Voldemort bent over her form and placed his forehead over the runes on her torso.

And he inhaled.

From the runes, bloody mist burst, colored with flecks of silver and gold as they flew into Voldemort's nostrils. As he paused to take another breath, the mist stalled in the air, some of it fading away before Voldemort could inhale again. As he took more breaths in, the runes slowly disappeared on her body, leaving emaciated limbs. When the final rune faded, Voldemort rose from his position and looked at the still alive Perenelle.

Her hair, once a lush black, now was a stringy white. Her once elder but healthy body was now nearly skin and bones, with veins mapping her flesh. Voldemort grabbed her hair in his fist, the world swimming before his eyes and apparated before he lost consciousness.

His personal safe house by the sea, staffed with a single elf, appeared before him. Said elf rushing forward as he fell, his vision darkening. He last remembered the squeaky voice of his bonded slave screaming, "Master! Master!"

Adrian looked at the plan that Hermione had devised to attack Azkaban and frowned. Tactically, logistically and goal-driven, the plan was perfect for their direct orders. To destroy the Dementor nest at Azkaban while killing any ministry or death eater magicals on the island. It even played to the varied strengths of the men that were assigned.

Yet it wasn't what Adrian wanted to happen. While the plan called for him to lead a vanguard into Azkaban to handle the three Aurors that were always stationed there, a task that if he was honest only himself or Hermione could handle, it then called for him to be the check against incoming forces, a task only he himself was capable of.

It was frustrating as his goal for coming back to this country was the rescue of Madam Flamel. Lord Grindelwald knew that, and still assigned a general that would complete the mission first. Why? Madam Flamel, if rescued, would at the least, place the Alchemist into neutrality, especially if freed. While the Dementors were a valued target, and he agreed with his Lord's opinion of their existence, he would rather be here to achieve his personal goal…

He cocked his head, as his mind raced with a new thought. If he did that, yes, he could likely achieve both goals, and possibly even splinter Dumbledore's side. He reached for a piece of parchment, swiftly writing a letter. With a smile, he rolled the parchment tight, sealing it with a simple spell. He then dove into his mind.

His mindscape was stylized after a laboratory that never ended, with millions of specimens in jars, subjects on gurneys, and up in the rafters, where most would never look, his security features. He strode towards an iron door, sealed shut with so many chains that it was nearly hidden entirely. A simple touch, and the chains shifted, allowing the door to open.

Adrian swiftly threw the message through the door before shutting it, amusement on his face as he felt the connection close again.

He certainly loved teasing his former master, even if the message was serious.

Nicolas frowned as his current apprentice studied. While Harry without the amplification enjoyed manipulating high-level curses, transfiguration, and movement to duel, with the amplification he shifted into a more power-intensive stationary style, similar to one that great wizards utilized such as Grindelwald and Albus himself. As Albus used to say, if they can't touch you while you stand still, why move? Nicolas never agreed with that mindset, but he couldn't shield against nearly anything or create barriers with a simple flick of the wrist either.

He had watched the battle between Albus and Grindelwald, he had seen the things those two could do. He watched as Grindelwald warped the air in front of him using runes and charms to engulf the transfigurations of his student. He watched as Albus transfigured the very air into vacuums to suffocate flames of eldritch might. He watched as Grindelwald's specially created protego diabolica be countered by Albus' water of faith charm, Aguaestia.

Even having seen that duel, watching his apprentice spar with Albus today was moving in scope. Vacuums, voids and blades of nearly invisible wind that could shear through the every walls of Hogwarts were countered by legions of transfigurations, obscure charms and even more obscure non-lethal curses. Both were largely stationary, with Albus being the one that moved the most, with sidesteps and slides to avoid blows that Nicolas barely anticipated. As he watched, Nicolas realized how far both his students had ascended.

Albus was a force; his legions unending, his focus unmatched, his mind a weapon of itself. Harry was the storm; unrelenting, overpowering, bearing down on his opponent just by existing. Even as the sparing duel ended, with Albus using Fawkes to avoid a trio of white fire arcs, only to tie with their wands to each other's throats due to Harry's incredible reaction time, Nicolas couldn't help himself but applaud his students. His smile was slightly forced, as he clapped and walked towards them.

"What is the matter Master?" Harry asked, seeing the smile for what it is. Albus takes a few steps way, still within distance to protect Harry if necessary.

Albus knows what he would sacrifice for certain things, if they were possible.

Nicolas smiled more warmly as he cataloged his apprentice's growth over the last year. Harry had learned alchemy to the point that he could teach the basics, he was able to easily pass his NEWTs and OWLs after taking them simultaneously, and he was knowledgeable beyond measure. It was time.

"I pride myself in my honesty. Harry James Potter… you have surpassed your master." Harry felt the bond they had forged via magic and time shift as he opened his mouth to counter, Nicolas continued. "It has been an honor my apprentice, for you to grow under me. You have reached the stage that I must assign, or you must reveal, your masterpiece."

Albus smiled softly as Harry started to celebrate. It was a soft celebration, with warm smiles and a firm hug for his master. As the two turned towards him, he schooled his features ever thankful for the beard he sported for such occasions.

"Albus, do you have any suggestions for his masterpiece?" Nicolas was curious about his students opinions of his apprentice.

"Hmm… a masterpiece historically is a magic complex and challenging. My transfiguration masterpiece is of course the watch I currently carry to this day." Albus pulled said watch from his robes, smiling at Harry's confusion. "Yes Harry, I created this watch from gold created by the Philosopher's Stone, enchanted it to be permanent, and it functions perfectly as attested by over a dozen different watchmakers across the world. It was also done with a singular spell, is made from gold that I personally melted with magical fire and in my humble opinion, is a gorgeous accessory."

Albus never mentioned the various functions that were beyond the mundane that the watch had. He felt there was no need. It's a magical watch, of course it has magical properties.

"Now, we must discuss parameters. Firstly, it must be created with a singular act of magic. Two, it must be useful to you; no pretty baubles are going to be your masterpiece. Three, it must be unique. So long as it is those things, you will be considered a Master of whatever branch you utilize to create the object." Nicolas waited until Harry verbally acknowledged his agreement before waving him away.

Harry nodded and walked out of the room, his mind clearly on the problem Nicolas has presented. As the door closed, Nicolas looked towards Albus.

"Adrian has contacted me. He wants to help save my wife."

Bellatrix smiled savagely towards the mass of her fellow Death Eaters. There were only twenty of them in the room, but a group of twenty hardened trained magicals could topple countries if enough planning was put forth. Their current goal, while their master recuperated from becoming even more perfect was much less complicated than the toppling of a country. She stepped upon a conjured soapbox, clearing her throat before launching into the speech that she and her Lord prepared privately.

"My fellows! Our glorious master has tasked us with a fulfilling assignment. Our numbers grow, our Lord wins his war, as we gather allies to rip the corruption from our world! Even now, in our luxurious quarters, we find space lacking." A statement that was true. While they had lost a significant member of the Inner Circle in Lucius, the true blow was the forced relocation as the Manor locked itself down. Now they met in a safe house that most were unaware was owned by their Lord. Only half the size of Malfoy Manor, holding the twenty Death Eaters in the room and the growing number that were being added to their ranks was becoming an issue.

Already their ranks had increased from a mere hundred magicals capable of combat to nearly one hundred fifty. Most were from the attack on Beauxbatons. Beauxbatons always had more students than either Hogwarts or Durmstrang, with students from as far as Greece and Morocco, and a student body of over ten thousand. A group of believers had allowed them entrance to the hallowed school, and since each had gone through swift remedial training.

Death eater training was always simple. Shoot a deadly spell or a productive one. You are either being productive towards the mission, or you are wasting time and energy. Most recruits failed to understand how easy it was to use magic for productive measures. Simple spells, mostly taught in the first five years, were the bread and butter of a Death Eater. Especially if one was creative enough to experiment or modify them.

Bellatrix shuddered slightly as the memory of the stone that was flung at her skull by the Potter brat months ago ignited in her memory. That was a perfect example; a conjured object being forced forward with a banishing charm. She could appreciate the elegance of the attack, even if she vowed to skin him for her Lord.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts and looked back out at the Death Eaters before her. "Our Lord has decided our next home… but first there must be some preparations! We will be raiding Diagon and Knockturn Alleys tonight!"

The cheers of her fellow Death Eaters brought a wide smile of euphoria to her face. In a rustle of displaced air, the masked followers of Voldemort vanished from their safe house.

Bill Weasley was, in many ways, a prodigy. He was highly intelligent; a muggleborn friend of his testing his IQ at over 130. He was extremely gifted in wandwork, having graduated with twelve OWLs, and eight NEWTS. He had taught himself seventeen different languages, including Gobblygook, Mermish, and Orcish. The latter was merely for fun of course, as the only known sighting of an orc that was willing to speak to a Magical was back in the fourteenth century.

However, for all his vaulted intelligence, for all his skill, the mere glimpse of Fleur Delacour made him speechless. It wasn't that she was a veela, or even her ethereal beauty. It was the feeling she gave off with her magic and presence. Bill was gifted with an extremely strong magical sense. It had first appeared as he started his fifth year. He still chuckled when he thought back to the dozens of nose bleeds and the hospital wing visits he had before Professor Dumbledore taught him how to control the surges of information.

Even just being in the same Alley as Fleur sent his senses into a tizzy. It was slightly addicting, like drinking a warm cup of coffee every morning. Fiery warmth that was tinged with feathers of flame that casually flickered and flanked every movement. So lost was he in his musing he nearly missed it.

Apparition felt like a flicker of a person's magic, moments before they appeared. It was a fact that Bill knew more because of experience than any other. It was that experience that saved so many lives that day.

Bill surged forward as he felt the magic flicker, signally over a dozen apparitions into the Alley. His wand was out, flinging a burning curse into the Death Eater's face just as he twisted into reality. He knew that magic anywhere; it belonged to a Slytherin who used to bully Charlie before he set him right. Used to, being the key word, as the curse turned the man's head to ash and embers. He looked up, into the fifteen Death Eaters who had their wands out, all pausing momentarily due to the surprise of one of their own dying instantly.

A heartbeat's worth of time passed as the thirteen looked at the CurseBreaker, and he stared back. It wasn't the first time he had stared at possible death; he had done that since he was seventeen. The odds though weren't in his favor this time. He readied his wand, took a deep breath, and let go. Six spells flashed though the air as he used apparition to flicker to the left, before turning the cobblestones beneath the death eater's feet to sand.

Cletus was a simple man. Slytherin in Hogwarts, graduated with five NEWTs and even more ego because he immediately became an undersecretary to a head of department in the Ministry of Magic. Pureblood and proud, he wore his bigotry on his sleeve like it was a badge of honor, once spitting in the face of the mudblood marrying janitorial wizard that fixed the weather in his boss' office. When the offer to join the Dark Lord was presented, he jumped at it.

Why should mudbloods exist in their society? They were filthy, taking jobs from their betters, taking the resources that could be used to help better their society. If they must exist, they should be slaves, not free. Wizards did it once with house-elves they could do so again with mudbloods.

Yet when he joined, he did not expect to be put into the middle of a war. When he joined the Raid on Diagon Alley, he assumed that it would be easy. Fling a few Unforgivables, watch as they scream and run, get what they need, and leave. He didn't expect to be greeted with a lone wizard killing Jones before he even fully arrived, then forcing thirteen of them to duel him. He knew the foreigners weren't as good as his British compatriots, that was why he was placed in charge of this group after all, but to have thirteen dueling one person? That was… unacceptable.

He raised his wand, taking aim at the redheaded fool who was more in the way. He summoned the hate he had for the world, for the mudbloods that took his chances away, for the mother who died when he was small leaving him to the mercies of a father with none, for a system that was clearly broken by the existence of those filthy unmentionables. He would erase them all, kill them all, with this spell.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bill ducked a stunning spell, returning fire with a bone-liquifying curse. With an elegant twist of his wrist, the sand he had transfigured suddenly spouted wrapped hands, grabbing ankles and calves. An Egyptian staple from the tombs, it was where the muggle legends of mummies appeared. Sadly, the sand wasn't deep enough to drag them down, but it was enough to hold them steady. He readied his magic as he slashed his wand, a pink flash of magic erupting from the tip, only to be met with a shield as two of the Death Eaters protected the others. They then started to move in unison, sending spells racing down the alley, towards the innocent bystanders that were still starting to flee. Bill raised his wand, breathing deep, and transfigured the alley. Walls erupted behind him, cutting him off from any help, yet protecting the innocent even as he threw up a shield spell to stop the cutting curses from taking his limbs.

"You fuckers aren't touching anyone without stepping over my dead body!" His wand flashed seven times as bright blasts of light blinded several people, and he rolled forward to avoid a lance of red-hot iron that slammed into the wall he had conjured. He rolled too far though and got met with a kick to the nose, making his eyes water as he flung back the attacker with a jinx. A quick healing spell, and a well-placed elbow to the temple of the nearest death eater, he claimed another life with a cutting curse even as he juked out of the way of a dark curse of some nature.

That was when he felt it, the woosh of death coming towards him. He felt it before he heard the words that were said, he felt it just as he felt all the magic today as it was formed. He turned his head to the man in the white skull mask, his hood fallen showing his black hair in a ponytail, his wand held high as the flash of green raced towards him. Bill turned and flung his magic forward, knowing he was going to die here, so might as well take as many as he could.

A marble orb appeared in the path of the curse, blasting into dust and splinters, even as Bill blasted fire from his wand tip, white hot and serpentine. The feel of the magic behind him made him smile, even as blood dripped into his left eye.

"Now now boys. Not inviting moi to the party? Rude." Fleur's voice was like music to Bill's ears, even has his heart raced and his vision blurred. He swayed slightly as the vision in his left eye seemed to bleed red for a moment. He flicked his wand, shielding against a random curse as Fleur responded with an inner body stitching charm, normally used in surgery, to make the caster scream in agony.

He kept shielding, transfiguring and countering any curse that he recognized as it was flung towards them, allowing Fleur the ability to fight, as she seemed determined to do. The constant glancing touches as he moved around her, her magic a comfort he didn't know he needed as he moved. Flinging balls of iron into the air with his wand, he shot them out with as strong as a banishment charm as he could, smiling grimly when one person went down to their knee, only to grunt as fire erupted from his belly.

He glanced down, and his vision swam. A sword stuck in his gut, would definitely explain the pain. He glanced upwards, at the woman responsible. Once beautiful, Azkaban had robbed her of that title. Titular black hair moved in the wind as she flicked her wand again, the sword transfiguring back into the rock it was originally. The world slowed down as he watched magic etch the rune for explosion into the rock, a trick that he thought only people from Ukraine knew. He flung himself backward, shoving his body into Fleur, and using the movement to throw a shield up.

The rock exploded with the force of a muggle bomb, tearing the alley apart with efficiency only the highest tier of blasting curse would mimic.

Bellatrix giggled as she watched the two struggle to get up. "You two are fun. The boy there, smart on his feet to think of layering shield charms just to make sure you lived. Sadly… the rest weren't as quick…" She gestured to the street, as Bill's wall crumbled from the blast. Several innocent people lay moaning in pain, nursing injuries as severe as lost limbs. At least those that were alive at all. Bellatrix glanced at the dozen bodies of the death eaters that had attacked in this portion of the raid. While none were a loss, they were all still bodies that swore themselves to her Lord. Their sacrifice for their perfect future would be noted. Just as the death of those two would mark the beginning of her Lord's new world. She raised her wand as the woman struggled to her feet, her left arm hanging limp, and wand held in her right. The ginger-headed man stood as well, blood pouring down his face yet wand held steady towards her, even as he swayed on his feet.

"Want to play with Bella? I see. Well, this is a game to die for!" With a snarl she flung the male back with a banishing charm, as she screamed "CRUCIO!" and watched as the woman spasmed in agony. She refused to scream, however. She glanced over towards the male and let up on the cruciatus curse.

Bellatrix launched another curse, this time an organ splitter, barely powered, at the male as he struggled to get up. The purple curse lit him up, and his mouth opened in agony as blood began to bubble from him. She smiled as she looked towards the former Triwizard competitor. She strode forward, stepping on her wrist as the French bitch tried to raise her wand.

"Look at him girl. LOOK AT HIM." A flick of her wand slapped Fleur's head to the side so that she was looking at Bill. Bill who had stumbled out of the wreckage he was banished in, and now desperately tried to counter the curse that was applied to his body. His wand flashed blue and his body then flashed green as finally the curse was broken. A healing charm was applied to his stomach, the hole in it still leaking his life essence. He looked up as the hole healed.

Bellatrix laughed and circled her wand. In the circle that she made, a single orb of water, tinged red appeared. With a tap, it froze, and then another tap flung needles of ice forward as if shot from a cannon.

Fleur screamed as several ice needles slammed into her arm, but her eyes never left Bill. She watched as he raised his wand, and fire erupted to melt the ice. Fire that she then took control over, her magic reaching out in desperation, and at that moment, he surrendered to her. The roaring flames turned and in a flash, rushed towards Bellatrix.

Bellatrix snarled as she slashed her wand, vanishing the flames before they touched her. As they vanished, she watched as Bill fell forward, his eyes glossy and an ice needle in his throat.

"Now there was one." She turned to the girl who looked on in horror, before smiling. "My master spared you once girl. I will do the same… look at this horror around you. This is why you are nothing. You don't belong in this world… no half-breed does." A flick of her wand, and Bellatrix broke Fleur's hip, cackling as she screamed. Another flick, and both ankles snapped, the volume of the screams increasing before her wand tip glowed red and a whisper of Crucio, made the crescendo of screams into a magnificent orchestra. She let up as the screams turned slightly bloody. Turning towards Bill, she was surprised to see him twitching slightly.

"Well that just won't do." She raised her wand but froze as with a snap two wizards appeared.

Cedric and Fredrick were the first to respond to the alarm, as they were already in battle gear at the Ministry. They were receiving a report from Madam Bones on the current status of several Death Eater Elements when the Diagon Alley alarm went off. They scrambled, attempting to apparate to the Alley only to be flung back to earth in a shaky crouch. Cedric looked towards his partner in horror.

"Wards? Or an anti-apparition jinx?" Fredrick was better at diagnosing magic in the moment than he, so he leaned into his expertise.

Fredrick shook his head. "Too violent, likely a multi-layered jinx. I'll break it as fast as I can."

Cedric nodded and spun to the Aurors that were only now starting to move after the klaxon had sounded nearly thirty seconds ago. "WELL GET THE FUCK MOVING! WE GOT INNOCENTS TO SAVE!"

Madam Bones had her wand out as she constantly spun in place, her attempts at apparating towards the alley greatly helping Fredrick dismantle the jinx. It still took nearly three minutes before she flickered. Instantly she stopped, and Fredrick smiled grimly, grabbing Cedric and twisting.

They arrived in a warzone. A massive crater had torn the alleyway to shreds, and the bodies of at least a dozen people were strung around. In the crater though, Bellatrix Lestrange stood, the twitching body of a red-headed man laying face down in front of her, and Cedric's fiancé Fleur Delacour moaning in agony as tears fell from her face under Bellatrix's boot.

Cedric reacted in malice, with murder on his mind as his wand flashed forward and six spells slammed into the shield that Bellatrix conjured. Fredrick, reading his partner, responded in kind with three spells, all designed to go through shields, erupted from his wand only to be countered in midair by the witch.

Bellatrix smiled in a mocking manner as she ground her heel into Fleur's wrist. "Now boys… that wasn't very nice. I haven't got to say hello." The world slowed for her as she pulsed her magic through her body. In a flash, she summoned several pieces of rubble to catch the curses that Fredrick sent, even as a honey-colored haze appeared around Cedric.

"Ohh family magic for little ol' me? Wonderful!" Bellatrix banished the boulders forward, sneakily etching explosive runes onto them before pouting as they were transfigured to dust. Twisting slightly on her heel, she smiled as the French bitch under her screamed when her wrist finally snapped even as she apparated backward three feet as the honey-colored blade construct of Cedric's family magic slammed into the earth where she was.

Cedric willed the magic to rush forward, his fingers twitching as it formed a dome around his fiancé and Fredrick opened fire with the most lethal curses he could. As flashes of blue, red, and black were countered easily by the mad witch, Cedric frowned as his senses tingled.

A heavy gong sound erupted when one curse was shielded against instead of countered in midair, and Bellatrix grunted as a spine of ice slammed into her left shoulder. Bill forced himself up on one arm, as blood leisurely leaked from the hole at the base of his throat, the needle there having been flung through the shield that Bellatrix held, her magic not reacting to itself. A grin on his face, Bill smiled a bloody smile at Bellatrix even as her wand raised to finish him off. Her wand stilled as more Aurors appeared, their red battle robes flashing in the sun.

With a twist and a cackle, Bellatrix vanished, before the dozens of spells collided where she once stood. Cedric slid down into the crater, followed closely by Fredrick.

"Check the man! I got Fleur!" He shouted as his family magic surged upwards and towards him, entering his body mid-stride before he crouched by his intended. "Fleur love, talk to me." His wand flashed several times as he ran diagnosis after diagnosis on his future wife, tears bubbling in his eyes as the dozens of wounds were registered to his mind.

"He… he wouldn't run my love… I couldn't… couldn't leave him to die…" Her voice was hoarse, her muscles twitching in her face. Cedric knew that his lover had been subjected to torture, just by those signs alone. Still he listened as he set the bones in her ankles, her gasp of pain barely interrupting her words.

"It… it was magnifique, he fired before they appeared. Killed one instantly. Then he protected us… made a wall… I burned through it to save him.." A rugged cough broke her story as blood bubbled from her lips.

Cedric's eyes widened as the blood leaked from her lips, his wand flashing trying to find the cause. "No…No…no… I don't…"

Fleur smiled slightly as she turned her head, the crunching of her neck signaling exactly what her issue was. Her whole body burned, and already she had lost sensation in her legs. She looked past the love of her life towards the red-haired man who she saved. She didn't know him, but she couldn't deny he was handsome in a roguish way. He was skilled and brave, even if he wasn't the brightest to fight thirteen at once. He glanced over her way. A glance in her direction and she felt it again. His magic reaching out to gently caress hers. It was warm and sandy, like the warm beach, and fresh ocean waves. Even though they were too far to speak, she knew what he was saying.

She lied to him with her magic, just the once. She knew that he knew that it was a lie, just as she knew that Cedric knew he didn't have enough knowledge to save her. She let her magic recede from his, and turned back to her love, ignoring the crunching of her vertebrae. She tried to speak even though her limbs and chest felt like stone. She smiled beautifully, knowing that her love deserved to see it once last time.

"Cedric… I..Love…" Her breath caught, and she kept the smile on her face, even as her chest burned, and still wouldn't move. She never looked away even as he frantically waved his wand, and her vision blurred with black spots rushing up. His face was the last thing she saw, just as it should be.

Bill let the tears fall, clearing tracks of water through the blood that coated his face. He felt as the magic he grew accustomed to these past weeks slowly curled around and into itself, as if it were a cat curling up for the night. Yet the ball kept growing smaller, even as he coaxed it to continue, to push through. He felt the lie the magic said, even though he knew what it was, he retreated. He had just wanted to help people, yet all that surrounded him was death.

He cried his heart out as he felt Fleur Delacour die, even as he lived.

AN: I apologize for the long delay... bluntly, I lost inspiration for a few months and focused on my other work. My muse has returned though, and here is the return. Yes, Fleur is dead. Yes, Bill is injured and may or may not be out of the war. Yes, Bellatrix is a badass. The next chapter should be the first stages of Hermione's plan and possibly even Adrian. Now, I will state that I deeply appreciate the reviews and the love this story has received. My goal is to finish this by this time next year. It's been a wild ride, and now we are at the climax of the story.