Albus Dumbledore:

Albus Dumbledore had just left the office of Cornelius Fudge in the middle of the night, as he considered the developments. Initially, the appearance of the Stormbringers had concerned him – after collecting many memories and piecing them together, he found himself stumped for the first time in his life. He had always been able to divine intentions from facial expressions, mannerisms and voice tone. And yet, these two teenagers had not provided a single detail. The mask, the robes, the voice distortion? It was all a mystery.

Not even their robes were traceable and he had never seen that style of robe before. He had suspected that the robes were a custom job and attempted a modified form of non-verbal Legilimency on all the known owners of robe businesses in Wizarding England. He was rather surprised when he discovered that many business owners had anti-legilimency measures installed in their businesses. He wasn't on speaking terms with any of them and Madam Malkin had gently warned him that any further attempts would result in a retainer getting involved. He considered that Madam Malkin had been in business a long time – he should have not assumed that he would get away undiscovered.

His primary concern was if the unknown wizards were aligned with his goals or not. He had slowly begun hatching plans that would allow him to end the Dark Lord. It was a carefully calculated game of chess. Harry Potter would have to play his part. So would the Weasleys and many others. The idea that new players were introducing themselves to his chessboard was concerning.

It could unravel everything he had worked to establish.

As an accomplished duellist, Albus was quite aware that oddities often won the day. Unique adaptations could often make or break a duel. His duel with Grindelwald had been won by a single transfiguration adaptation - a stone which had been transfigured into a bird had morphed again into a venomous tentacula mid-air, and it had knocked the elder wand out of the hand of his former lover. It was one of the cheapest duelling tricks that Albus had developed as a joke, and it had saved his life in the duel against Grindelwald, who preferred to throw objects with his non-dominant wanded hand. Albus did not ever possess that type of power, and after it was all done, he won. He had won the Elder Wand, the only Deathly Hallow.

Even Grindelwald had laughed when Albus had visited the man many years ago.

"Ah my love, that was a good one. You know I could break out of here. I could pull down the walls. But the snipers and the machine gun emplacements? That was lovingly provided by the German muggle government. I would not chance those, in combination with the anti-apparition ward. So here I am."

"What you did caused too much pain. The muggles don't care about us and will never care."

"Perhaps, but it is sometimes about what you believe in. What are you willing to die for? One day Albus, you will be required to spill blood to protect what you believe in, and then you will be made into a hypocrite."

"I will never become like that, Gellert."

"You will be forced. I used to think we could win, and then as I began to watch the television I realised that even if we could kill one hundred of them a second, it would take twenty years of non-stop killing to murder all of the muggles. They simply breed indiscriminately, and they strain the world's resources."

"This is a discussion we had many times."

"Yes, I suppose so. The muggles were always better killers. Far more efficient. I would not survive missiles, bombs and many other things. Nonetheless, eventually another Dark Lord will arise again. What will you be willing to do?"

Albus remembered this conversation as he considered what he had seen in the paper. A fusion of muggle weaponry with magic? That was something that scared him to his bones. No, the owner of these artefacts would be free to do as they pleased. And if these objects offered advantages, and innovations decided the fate of many magical duels, what would he do about these teenagers who seemed to be full of them? They certainly had a lot of power and agility for teenagers.

Alarming, was the scope of their artefacts. He had wondered how invisibility had been conjured without a wand. This was not something done easily by runic arrays, otherwise, it would have been a common product. Also, their ''guns" were far more accurate – he would struggle at that range to land a spell. Even Grindelwald himself would have problems with that type of range. Yet, the young girl had put down Dawlish easily. The boy had dealt with Lucius, Parkinson and Goyle as if they were harmless children.

Not good at all.

And his sword? A magical blade that was summoned on demand? He could openly carry a sword as merely a little hilt on his leg? From the memories he had seen, it did not look like an extension charm had been used. Perhaps a custom spell? The other issue was that they were well funded. He had been informed that the Rune-Priestess would probably be sitting on four million galleons by the end of the year. That type of money was unheard of in the Wizarding World. That type of wealth could cause problems for him especially if it was funnelled into an agenda that was different from his own. And the rumours about a new wizarding ink on the market were concerning.

Yet, the children at Hogwarts had benefited greatly from the Medi-Spray. Matroness Pomfrey had called it 'the greatest potion ever invented' and Severus Snape could not make head or tails to its secret. According to him, somebody had found an entirely new way to brew contradicting ingredients. The idea of a young woman being the inventor of such a potion seemed to annoy and please Severus Snape simultaneously. He had quietly admitted that 'she' was as good as Lilly Potter. This was not without reason.

Hermione had used many of Lilly's observations and notes to advance her work.

Just when the issue had seemed to solve himself many months later, and there had been no sighting of the 'Storm Bringers', he received a message from a contact in the Ministry of Magic. The Storm Lord had Azkaban under siege for the better part of four days straight and they had sent unexperienced untrained Aurors who would be completely unprepared, all in the name of keeping him out of the loop.

Albus Dumbledore possessed a runic ward bypass that had been built by Nicholas Flamel. This allowed him to bypass any wards that he wished. As soon as he arrived on the scene, he found himself witnessing that the young man had other collaborators. Shocking was that he was also a phoenix owner.

Now he and his collaborators could apparate to wherever he wanted with impunity.

It had long been theorised that there were many varieties of phoenix. He had been shocked to see the aggressor's phoenix apparate via lightning. The phoenix seemed to be younger, far healthier and agile. It flew at speeds that made Fawkes seem slow. And her tail feathers? Beautiful. Fawkes did not look anything like that. Worse yet, the young man had turned the world upside down. Dead Dementors had littered the island. And the two Patronii that faded away as the wizards had apparated were an Eagle and a Fenrir. There were no known wizards in England that possessed these Patronii and the power on display was enormous. Even with all his years of experience, he had never seen Patronii of such large sizes and brilliance. These unknown individuals were not people who delved into the Dark Arts. They had to be pure of heart.

But being pure of heart was merely a characteristic. Motivations and ambitions were another, and their motivations were not necessarily his.

The momentary battle with Moody had revealed that they possessed artefacts that could summon shields. They had found some way to repurpose the Azkaban walls and were playing what Emmeline Vance called 'Heavy Metal'. The music was loud and aggressive, and it almost seemed to make his blood pump. Undoubtedly, the Storm Lord was a bit of a prankster.

And why Sirius Black? What did he have to do with anything? As he thought about all the issues, he had to pressure Fudge into giving him a copy of Dawlish's memories of the events that had passed over the last four days. Albus had planned to examine every scrap of the memory with his Head of Houses to figure out what exactly had happened.

After waiting for the school day to pass, Minerva McGonagall, Fillius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout and Severus Snape were all huddled in the office, curious as to what could merit such a meeting.

"Good evening to all. I have called you here in your professional capacity because I find myself concerned about some of the recent events. I take it you are familiar with the 'Storm-Bringers'?"

"Oh, we certainly are! Many may not like them but they do fantastic magic" replied Fillius.

"They can get free membership in Gryffindor as far as I am concerned," replied Minerva.

"Hooligans and uncontrollable. And very dangerous. They are assassins in training!" Severus complained.

"I just want to see their robes again. Boy, do they have style!" replied Pomona.

"Ah, I see we have differing opinions. What I share with you, is for your ears and eyes only. This is considered classified as of right now. The 'Storm Lord' and an associate of his attacked Azkaban systematically with a military operation that put our Aurors to shame. Then, they broke Sirius Black out of the prison. I have not seen the memories myself, but I was able to obtain a report."

Minerva's eyes demonstrated much worry. She began to worry about Harry Potter.

"Oh Minerva, it gets even more impossible. They utterly destroyed ALL the Dementors."

"Albus, are you serious?" asked Fillius the charms professor.

"Yes. The Unspeakables are currently for the first time in history, dissecting a dead Dementor. I had to force the Minister's hand to get a copy of Dawlish's memories that spanned the entire length of their operation. That was late last night."

At this point, the entire room became dead quiet. The face of Severus Snape had taken on an expression of complete rage. Fillius broke the silence by commenting:

"We won't know what occurred until we look at the memories. To the pensieve, I presume?"

"Certainly Fillius."

All four individuals entered the Pensieve.

The first memory began with Dawlish observing Dementors being cut down at a distance. No person could be seen and worse yet the fire seemed to be coming from over the ocean. The four professors looked on as the Dementors had decided to run from whatever was attacking them. The unearthly sound of Dementors in pain was horrifying. The second memory revealed that Dawlish had remembered all too clearly what he had been attacked with – and the spell being fired off this time, seemed far more ferocious and was designed for killing. And this was not the killing spell. It was something else.

After sufficiently illuminating the area, was when the horror show unveiled itself. Their cloaks had become their coffins as they combusted into charred masses. In the upper parts of the tower, many dead Dementors were strewn about. It almost seemed that they had been killed much earlier, as the decomposition seemed much worse. This was confirmation that the Storm-bringers had started picking them off early.

Dawlish's fear and fascination could be felt as examined the dead bodies. The Aurors observed as the Dementors had become solid corpses. There was no human presence and Albus was quite aware that brooms did not work in Azkaban. Were the Storm Lord's brooms superior? Everyone observed Dawlish as he sent the Patronus to Fudge. It was now evident that Fudge had truly intended to keep Albus out of the loop, and he believed that the Storm-Bringers and their weapons were of no concern. But then he was a politician, and he understood little about theoretical magic.

The memory continued with a door collapsing in the early hours of the next morning. As they examined the hinges, it seemed that the steel had been melted to the point where a Reparo charm would have done little good. This was also problematic as it implied that not even steel was an obstacle for the Storm-Lord.

The cold of the area and the inherently depressive magic had made even flame warming charms useless. Not even the transfigured blankets helped, as it seemed that the Dementors enjoyed feeding off the high emotions. While Dawlish's skin was certainly warm, his insides felt cold and chilly. Dawlish began to feel something he had not felt in a long time.

Genuine Fear. The Storm-Bringers were coming.

They all exited the Pensieve and Albus was curious to hear the opinions of his professors. Fillius who was excited began first:

"I think the Storm Lord has made some type of magical implement that he can fly from a distance. And we do know that he possesses weapons that can produce spells. That way he could start setting up the situation long before he arrived."

"That is a novel idea. Do the muggles have such things?

"I believe so Albus?" Fillius answered.

"Perhaps this might be a blessing. Dementors are horrendous business. I am happy they are dead. As a person who works with soil, I do appreciate how he used the environment to his advantage." commented Sprout.

"I am not sure about what I have seen. All I can tell you is that they plan well. Brave sure, but he has wits. I think the Dementors usually patrol the ledge outside the main prison tower – so I heard at the Leaky Cauldron. I think he killed the Dementors there, to prepare for breaking Sirius Black out. There were bodies on the ledges," replied McGonagall.

"He thinks tactically. He is dangerous. He cares not about our traditions and culture. I must admit. I am curious to see what happens next" replied Severus.

"That was only until the next morning. Let us look at the rest of memories?" replied Albus.

As they entered the Pensieve, they began to witness the intermittent sleep that Dawlish and his Aurors had received with the cold beating in on them from the absent door. Loud music continued to blast from the walls. It seemed to come from everywhere and Flitwick found it upbeat and entertaining. For the rest of them who had never heard Heavy Metal music, it sounded far more aggressive than the Weird Sisters as the heavy WAH guitar ripped through the song and the bass line pounded the walls.

Albus became uncomfortable, as the intermittent sounds reminded him of World War II. Bombing sounds, gunfire and the dreaded MG-42 that he had never managed to defend against - everything that left him feeling vulnerable was being played loudly. World War II had been his first experience where his magic had counted for little and nothing. Albus never openly spoke of the small all wizard unit that had fought for the allies, because he was the only man who made it back alive. He had initially thought that the Storm Lord might have decided to experiment with muggle ideas and had built his weapons. No – the choice of sounds made one thing clear. This was a person who was muggleborn. Not a pureblood or halfblood. This was somebody who intimately understood guns, and who understood warfare.

Dawlish could not hear anything from his colleagues and eventually applied a silencing charm. Soon everything was inaudible, and the punishment stopped. Now he would not have to bear the sound of the loud music, the war sounds and then battle his lack of sleep. The regular cell patrols had stopped, and now the concern was how to stay alert as a group. Dalish wondered if things could get worse.

And then, it got worse.

At random intervals, explosions would occur as they chipped the solid stone into random flakes of debris. They were being peppered with the magical equivalent of artillery fire. It would take a squad of at least forty Aurors to replicate the frequency of the spells. And even then they would not have that type of spread. Dawlish left the ground floor, and began to randomly fire off stunners into the sky but he could not track the object that was firing the spells. The artefact was invisible and moving much too quickly. It was also much too high. There was no clear way to see where the spell started. It merely looked like multicoloured rain.

Dawlish, terrified by the idea that their continued silence would allow a deadly spell to be cast, opted to keep his ears open. Eventually, the fatigue became unbearable and they all ignored the music and the attacks and went to sleep late into the night, still cold and with all the furniture burnt. The misery had continued well into the night and the Dementors were elated to feed off the despair. The music had changed, and it had become much noisier. There also seemed to be any number of insults that he believed had come from muggle movies. Between these constant harassments, the Aurors had a terrible night.

As they retreated from the Pensieve, Albus decided that he would share his story somewhat:

"I think you have seen the concern on my face. The reason why those sounds disturbed me was that I fought in the Muggle Word War II. I have encountered these weapons, and it is a memory I prefer not to remember."

"Truly?" asked Severus, who was rather surprised.

"Yes, Severus. There were Germans or correctly…..Nazis that were wizards. The non-magicals carried muggle weapons and the Wizards carried wands. Hitler had ordered that magicals and non-magicals work together in the name of building a new Third Reich. An unstoppable military force that dealt death with the arcane and the technological working as one. The result was a force so deadly the Allies had to come up with something quickly."

"Explain Albus?" said Minerva.

"Well, there is this wonderful idea that the Muggle World is just a quaint world full of strange machines. Yet the unit I served in, only I returned. All my friends were cut down by MG-42 fire. A Nazi wizard had cast body-bind curses on my unit, and a Wehrmacht soldier opened up fire. I can remember it like yesterday. Short controlled bursts. Very efficient, and very lethal. There is no magical protection that I know of, that can survive a machine gun.

I have always been a champion for Muggle rights because the truth is that they have a history of outthinking us. The purebloods have no idea what guns or tanks are. I rode a B-17 aeroplane in the War. That could level Hogwarts from a height of 55,000 feet. They flew at a speed of six hundred miles per hour. That was 1935. Magic will not save us if they become angry. Those aeroplanes could carry approximately 5,000 pounds of explosives. And that is a single aeroplane."

"But don't we study these things in Muggle Studies Albus? Six hundred miles at 55,000 feet? No broom goes that far. And have they advanced their artefacts since then?" asked McGonagall.

"They have. Far faster, far more efficient. That is why I own a Muggle television. A Ravenclaw student told me that the Americans have a 'probe' in the great void. It is currently eleven billion miles away. They are sending it towards some Star far away in the heavens. It is travelling at 35,000 mph. They want to find out if there is life elsewhere in the void."

"Did you say thirty five thousand miles per hour? And eleven billion miles? That is mind boggling!" Minerva replied.

"Yes indeed. It is called Voyager II. One of my other claws has an American father and joint muggle citizenship. He shoots guns on the holidays on the family ranch. American muggles are allowed to own personal weapons. And yes, his father is magical. He explained that as an American Wizard, he is still a citizen of the United States and his constitution guarantees him his second amendment – the right to own arms. He said that the other pureblood American wizards frown at him, but they won't even get into wanded range when he can kill them from six hundred yards.

I think his father is from Texas. As the boy says, there is no faster way to the Good Lord than through a 12 gauge shotgun."

"Nonsense! All fantastic claims! And even if it was true. It does not affect our lives." muttered Severus.

"So what exactly are we here for Severus? It seems as it certainly matters now?" Minerva asked.

"We magicals are not as shielded from muggle society Severus. I have noticed Muggleborns generally cast better and far more stable spells. They don't have access to advanced magical theory books. I found out that they all know basic scientific concepts. All muggleborns attend a preschool and then primary school before coming to Hogwarts. A minimum of eight years of compulsory schooling.

Have you noticed they have a better vocabulary, and they write in a more structured manner? Might I remind you that we as magicals use modern muggle English? The Queen's English as they call it?" laughed Fillius.

"So why is the syllabus out of date then, Albus?" Pomona asked.

"The syllabus is one century out of date because of the demands of the right-wing purebloods. Severus your comments on the operation?"

"It seems that the Storm Lord cares very little for duelling. He is not a dueller. He is a fighter. He fights with any means possible, and he does not play fair. No mercy. And he is very strategic. And as he gets older and more experienced, he will only become better. The issue is how he and his associates fit into society? Is he going to come into our society and use his artefacts to change it to whatever he wants?"

"Didn't Voldemort do the same thing with his unique brand of dark magic? That is why his supporters loved him?" questioned Albus.

The tension in the room grew. Pomona sensing the dagger in the air intervened:

"Perhaps Albus, we should interview students who are muggleborn and find out what the most recent advancements are. Do you think the Storm Lord is hostile to Wizarding England?"

"I am not sure – I initially believed that it was a wizard merely experimenting with muggle ideas. This is someone who I think might be muggle educated and magically educated. That makes them dangerous. I think this person and his associates are after the followers of the Dark Lord. But if anyone gets in his wan, and he will kill you."

Severus Snape gulped.

"Let us see how the events play out. Tuesday and Wednesday were uneventful and were full of repeated attacks to wear the Aurors down. Let us see Thursday." Albus stated, perfectly aware that his recollection of Thursday night had been anything less than 'uneventful'.

On Thursday, the music and the periodic attacks occurred until twilight had arrived. Dawlish began to feel a sense of foreboding – was something new coming? He periodically looked off into the horizon and he hoped that help would arrive soon. He was not sure how much more he could take. The whole experience had felt like he had been engaged in attritional warfare for an extended period, where the enemy held the upper hand. Auror training had never focused on this – rather they were expected to go on occasional raids and they operated against other civilians. Even the occasional criminal would usually counter them with established spells and methods, that were taught at the academy.

The unconventional 'warfare' had left him clueless.

During the evening, the reinforcements arrived, and the frustration of Dawlish was seen first-hand, as he insulted the young cadets. The teachers considered that such an experience could impact the Auror enrolment as the news spread. Perhaps it was a good thing that the memories were currently under Ministry mandated secrecy. Dawlish then walked back inside as he began to worry about the Dementors who seemed incensed and extra hungry. He also considered how he might best make a defensive position out of what facilities were available to him, as the new cadets were not experienced enough to engage in combat.

And as soon as the cadets had assembled on the shore, they were dropped like flies and Dawlish realised that his aggressors were already there. At least half the cadets had been stunned. Far off in the distance, it seemed like a floating object had appeared. Dawlish immediately assumed that it was the Storm Lord, who was shooting spells again. However, the ranger was far further. The Professors who had realised the immense distance involved began to sweat cold.

This weapon could change magical combat forever.

And then it got worse. Some objects dropped out of nowhere, and bright flashes of light assaulted the eyes of the cadets. Many had lost their bearings, and then stunners began to rain from an obtuse direction. The spellfire had come at just the right time for the disorientation to work to the aggressors' advantage. Once again, the second volley of stunners came from the young man who just seemed to float in mid-air at a far and safe distance. Dawlish applied a magnification charm to his eyes, and he saw a helmeted figure floating on seemingly nothing. He also had a big, long object that was pointing toward the young cadets. It was noted that his stunner spell seemed far more controlled, and it travelled faster. There were no arcs or lightning patterns associated with conjuring magic from a wand. It was a simple, uniform beam that almost arrived immediately.

All the cadets were down on the ground cold. Dawlish's direction soon switched to the man who had been flanking the cadets and the Aurors behind him began raining stunners and body-bind curses.

A shield was summoned out of nowhere. It seemed to be attached to his left hand. This artefact was rather powerful in terms of what it offered. Simultaneous attack and defence? That was something many wizards had wondered about implementing, and only people who could utilise two wands at a time could do it somewhat effectively. Here, this was easily on display almost like normality. And the spell's hexagonal pattern? That had to be a new spell. It seemed to be able to be consistently maintained and it was impervious to everything.

Dawlish could see a red beam pointed to his chest. He then conjured a shield, only to encounter a continuous barrage of stunners that not even a group of thirty Aurors would be able to conjure in a combined attack. Dawlish was struggling to block the spells and the man seemed to rotate to each of his colleagues regularly. This person was reigning multiple stunning spells with such ferocity that he was keeping five of them at bay. He had to hold his Protego constantly against two or three stunners as they splashed out and became harmless. Then the man suddenly stopped firing spells but continued to sustain the shield.

That was when the young man truly came closer and landed a good way into the island. It was confirmed that his armour had allowed him to fly and he could use his hands as he pleased. It was well known that only Voldemort could fly and cast magic at the same time. It was one of the pieces of Dark Magic that made him feared and yet an alternate approach had been taken to develop the same idea. Albus consider that just the ability to have a vertical height on demand made the young man a dangerous combatant. His control seemed graceful - almost as if he had been flying his entire life. A distorted, impersonal voice came through a wanded sonorous and the frightening skull-shaped helmet that blinked in a pulsating red light, as he spoke:

"Enough of this stupidity, it exhausts me."

The voice sounded aristocratic and commanding. It felt full of magic. Not even the Lords in the Wizengamot sounded like this. The tone sounded almost like an adult berating a little child. With the Pensieve being able to extrapolate some details, the professors moved in as close as possible so that they might understand better the artefacts that the young man possessed. Albus paused the memory so that they could look at the equipment.

Severus walked around as he examined the armour. The armour seemed to be made of a brace that was strapped to his body rather tightly. It was also observed that his arms and legs were toned. The boots were made of metal and there were many moulded steel plates. It looked somewhat like medieval Armor, but it was far more complex. The Armor pieces seemed to be suspended on the frame and moved about somewhat to facilitate movement. The left-arm seemed to have a special gauntlet that was perhaps the Shield charm generator? There also seemed to be some sort of muggle device that displayed information.

Albus, the only person who had experienced and assisted with tank repairs during the World War, examined the artefacts. This armour had been built with muggle methods. It looked like an idea that was being tested, and yet it seemed utterly reliable and very sophisticated. Albus wondered what type of advancement could come with ten and fifteen years of work. Or worse yet, a century. His main weapon – Albus knew it was a gun. But this did not look like any of the guns he was familiar with. The design was beautiful, and the item seemed to be made of steel, copper and something else. There also seemed to be a mini-telescope at the top of the gun. Albus was familiar with how gun scopes worked and this one seemed to be modern and highly upgraded.

"I must say, if he built this we must give him credit where credit is due. I may not like it, but he has skilled hands. He has to be far ahead of our seventh years to do work like this." commented Albus.

"He must be gifted in Muggle studies. Only Goblins can transfigure steel. He probably used Muggle equipment to build many of the items. However, the rune work is present but it seems hidden. It looks like he used both magic and electricity. They do not work with each other?" asked Fillius.

"For us possibly. Not for him. He seems to make his own rules I suppose. Let us continue?" asked Minerva.

The teachers all huddled together and then were hit with an absolute ton of bricks as they heard the next few sentences when they resumed the memory:

"My name is Lord Peverell. I give you an oath upon my magic that Sirius Black is innocent. Peter Pettigrew killed Lilly Potter and James Potter. He was the secret keeper. If you hand him over, I will leave you alone.

If you refuse. I will not hurt you or damage you in any way that might threaten your livelihood. But I will cause you great pain. Listen well…Test me and you will receive no mercy.

You will kneel before magical might. You will bow to technological supremacy. Kneel to the lineage that made the wands of the Four Founders of Hogwarts. Kneel to the lineage that made the Deathstick.

Lumos!"

Albus Dumbledore who had been chasing the Deathly Hallows his whole life, now had a ghastly look on his face. Lord Peverell? The inheritor of the Deathly Hallows was alive and well? And the Peverell lineage had made the wands of the Four Founders? As Minerva and Fillius covered their mouths in absolute shock, the memory continued to play with no regard to their feelings.

It got even more exciting.

"Expecto Patronum! Protect Sirius. Let darkness die here today, permanently. Such creatures do not deserve to exist. Hound them!"

The other man who had been a silent partner conjured a Patronus, and suddenly a large Fenrir spawned into existence.

"Fenrir. Welcome to my pack. Hound all of the dementors on this island. Follow the eagle, put all of them into the open. There must be none left to terrorise the world."

The fiasco continued with the final question of the moment:

"Are you giving me Sirius Black? Make up your mind."

"No - I will not give you Sirius. He is a wanted criminal."

"Very well. Pain will make you change your mind."

All five of them stood in amazement as the boy apparated in and out of combat as he proceeded to strike with his hands and legs. One thing became obvious – the boy was well trained with his hands and probably did Muggle fighting. They watched in amazement as the boy exercised surgical attacks that seemed to target vulnerable spots. Wands were taken away, bones were broken and heavy painful bruising was the order of the day. Albus had been there as Madam Pomfrey had patched the Aurors up. He could clearly remember her comments on their injuries:

"This was an attempt to humiliate. If this was a scuffle, he merely chose not to kill. All blunt impacts. With just a small pocket knife he could have cut their necks easily. It is rather hilarious that the Medi-Spray on me will help a lot with these very same injuries."

As they looked on at how the young man deftly weaved into the battlefield, he observed how the other associate held his position over the stunned cadets. He was protecting them, as their plans unfolded. The young man's movements seemed to carry so much force, almost like an adult was throwing punches.

Magic was being utilised. Wandless Magic. He could channel it in his body. This was something that he had only seen Grindelwald do, very occasionally. Even he could not do such a thing. And he was channelling it into his hands and legs?

After the beatdown had finally occurred, most of the staff members were openly gaping like fish at how fast the boy could move. Then the boy once again landed a terrible insult, one that suggested that he was well-read and highly intelligent.

"Consider this demonstration a gift for your forthright stupidity you ubiquitous, cretinous, bipedal asininity."

All the staff members winced. Severus honestly liked the insult, despite having reservations about the boy. He seemed to be better spoken than all his seventh-year students. It was hard not to admire his competence. He could produce a Patronus and that was no joke at all. That was when a deep masculine battle cry sounded through the helmet. It sounded unearthly as he apparently charged up to end the fight, or perhaps make a statement.

There was a loud bloody roar that was distorted and it sounded inhuman through the helmet.

The boy then activated his oddly shaped shields and smashed into Azkaban directly. He then continued to pound the wall into utter submission as he screamed at the top of his voice. They looked on as the boy chained multiple attacks together from different angles, and he seemed to be able to exert large amounts of force without damaging himself.

"SMASH!–SMASH!-SMASH!–SMASH!-SMASH!" the wall echoed, as the rhythmic thuds continued.

Now the teachers were in abject fear – it was one thing to be able to apparate quickly but this? Had he modified apparition? How much understanding was required to do such a thing? One thing was very certain. He probably knew a lot of magical theory. He was tearing down centuries of protective charms as he pounded the wall into submission. The boy was relentless. Albus was convinced that while he knew much more magic, he was not prepared for this.

This young man could charge in at a distance and he would be dead before he could summon his wand. Albus was quite aware that he was not as tough as a concrete wall.

The other issue was that the shielding charm that he was using was not a standard Protego. It looked somewhat similar, but it seemed that this shield specialised in physical protection. It looked far more solid and different to the more translucent cell that his associate had used. Worse yet, there had been no audible incantations. The young man had the chops to create new spells. Something that only Severus had been known for – the development of seven new spells.

Suddenly his wand had twitched in his pocket. The Elder wand began to feel the presence of his lineage and it wanted to return to the rightful owner. The wand sensed Albus' reticence and suddenly he felt his command over the wand slipping. The Elder wand was not his to command anymore.

To finally add insult to injury, the young man had now apparated back to Dawlish's position where the Auror had knelt on the ground with a broken arm and his ribs roaring in pain. Lord Peverell made a pulling motion and a small spark at the end of his graphite black globe could be seen as the entire wall caved outwards.

He had pulled down the wall with wandless magic.

All Albus had ever managed to do was open and close doors. Not even Voldemort had that type of Power. After the wall had exploded, a silent nod was given and the associate collected Sirius. The Storm-Lord then sprayed the other four Aurors with a potion that seemed to be an irritant. They could hardly breathe and their eyes had burned. While it was not deadly, its application within the right context made it an incapacitating thing, that could not be cleared easily by magic. Madam Pomfrey had no solution to this until she had flooded their faces with water.

The boy continued:

"I am death incarnate – I am the last thing you will ever see, you foul creatures. Gaze upon the individual that will unmake your existence. Eat plasma you set of upright dildos."

Suddenly the music started again, as the young man readied his gun. He apparated to multiple positions and release volleys of gunfire as the Dementors screeched for their lives. Far off, the Dementors bled sickly green fluid and they combusted as their cloaks were again, set on flames. From Dawlish's perspective, Sirius Black could be seen leaving on an artefact that seemed to have a mind of its own. Albus also observed bolts of energy arriving from the top of Azkaban as they coordinated without any spoken words.

Soon enough all the Dementors were dead. It had only taken a minute.

The memory then ended. Albus had no intention to let anyone besides his trusted Aurors know that he could be transported via his phoenix. After all, he had obliviated everyone on the island quickly, right after the Storm Lord had left. Fudge could not know. As everyone finally came out of the pensieve, the professors were all unsure of what to say now.

"Does the Death Stick even exist? I thought it was an old wives' tale?" asked Severus.

"It is not – I can't say why. There are momentous secrets involved. It was once said to own all three Deathly Hallows was to cheat death. The elder wand, the resurrection stone and the true cloak of invisibility."

"The Storm Lord said that his lineage created wands for the founders. I can remember Rita Skeeter's article. Is there a chance that the first of his line brought wand making to England? Having that type of knowledge could easily allow him to create artefacts that cast spells. And if he happens to be muggle educated also he might bring many innovations forward. He is very young and he has a lot of time yet." Commented Minerva.

"I get the feeling you like the young man. He supposedly represents that which is righteous. He wants justice for those who suffered in the war. I suppose you think he is a lion." answered Severus Snape who was quite jaded.

"Perhaps Severus, perhaps. But then you knew a very special Gryffindor yourself, didn't you. I remember Lilly's friendship with you. She cried long tears after you insulted her. I spent many evenings with her, consoling her. It is good that the 'mudblood primary schools' are advancing magic. I don't care what house he is in – I highly doubt young people as accomplished as both of them need lessons here. I care that he changes things for us. Or perhaps you forget that the young lady invented a potion that outstrips your ability?"

Severus paled white immediately. Minerva knew about his 5th year incident? He considered that if any Head of House at Hogwarts ever found out that he was the person who was indirectly responsible for the death of James and Lilly Potter, they would probably attack him on the spot. He depended primarily on Albus to hold that knowledge secret.

"That is enough. Now is not the time for arguments. If he is coming to change things in our world, then we will have to revisit the topic anyway. We might even learn a thing or two. I am going to attempt to write him a letter. We will see where it goes."

"Albus, upon witnessing the boy's combat ability, how would a duel between both of you fare? And we have not spoken of the biggest elephant in the room. How is Sirius Black involved?" asked Pomona.

"Yes Albus, Peter Pettigrew betrayed my Lilly and James! Sirius is innocent! How does Lord Peverell as he calls himself, knows these things." asked Minerva, clearly distraught.

"Let me answer both of these questions. Firstly, in a duel, he will not have the necessary experience. I do more than a century of experience. An easy win for me. In a fight, however, I am afraid I would not last thirty seconds. I might be able to use transfiguration to buy time, but there is no countermeasure to the type of range that he can send spells at, nor the artefacts he can deploy.

And even if I was close to him, I can see no viable defence to his ability to strike with so much force into objects, and his raw ability to apparate quickly and use his limbs for devastating strikes? He has an artefact that can bypass wards. Notice he went to disarm the opponents, but instead of magic he went about the muggle method. It is hard to hold a wand in a broken hand. Crude but highly effective….."

Severus Snape was incensed. Some young upstart who meddled in muggleborn ideas posed a threat to Dumbledore, because of his savagery. Suddenly the words of 4th year Lilly Potter came to him:

"One day, science and technology will filter back into magic. Magic will advance science. Science will advance magic. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, but any sufficiently advanced magic is essentially complex technology that is not yet understood. Mark my words Sevy, it is coming whether you like it or not."

As Severus took a trip down memory lane, Sirius Black was now the topic of discussion – the same man who had baited him into the Shrieking Shack, when Remus Lupin was having his transformation. Anger and hatred accumulated in his soul as the conversation continued:

"But Albus, is it not possible? I remember Lilly telling me that Sirius had officially taken the Godfather's Oath. He could not harm the boy, even if it was directly." Minerva complained.

"Pettigrew was always unhappy that he was not the most popular or famous. Nor was he too bright. I always found him behaving suspiciously. Pettigrew being the traitor would make sense. Sirius would have confronted him – he was always a hothead." commented Fillius.

"Might Harry be at risk?" asked Minerva. "Has he been well?"

"I have been monitoring Harry Potter. He is well and he is in no current danger. Arabella commented that the boy enjoys a run around the neighbourhood every morning. He also grows grapes in a little garden. I had some a while back. There were fantastic."

Minerva smiled.

"Top student at his primary school. I am concerned that Sirius Black will exercise his rights as Harry Potter's godfather. We would not be able to stop him?"

"Is that such a bad thing? If we can have a trial for Sirius that might allow us to get closer to Lord Peverell. At least we could confirm under Veritaserum what happened. Harry Potter deserves childhood and teenage years. Sirius Black, if he is truly innocent would be preferable for him, for his magical education."

"Perhaps. Severus, you live not too far. Perhaps you can check in on him? Perhaps at the end of the school term. I am going to go to Gringotts and see if I can work backwards." commented Albus.

Snape remembered the promise he had made and nodded tersely.

Little did all of them know, Harry Potter was already planning his next prank, after successfully playing them all for fools. After all, he had been listening to the entire conversation with Remus and Sirius giggling along. He had bugged Dumbeldore's Office and S0nape's quarters before embarking on his Azkaban mission. It was this little side project that had led to the refinements that were used for Sirius' earbuds.