Neb Storm: Sorry for the wait, I don't own Harry Potter. Takes place three years after Harry defeated You Know Who. I hope you enjoy the fanfic. We left off at Norman learning of his nightmares about the fugitives.

Norman stayed after potion class as the letter instructed. This was about the dream he had with the wanted criminals fighting some other poor fellow. They stole his wand and killed him. What made it especially terrifying was that they used spells that he never seen or heard of, yet they were real spells. Not made up ones in his dreams.

"So you stayed," a familiar girl with black hair and freckles spoke up.

"Your that girl," Norman responded. "Cook."

"Yes, Wendi Cook," she replied as she drew her wand. Norman didn't get a good look at it before, but it was a black wand with a purple stone on the bottom of it. As Olivander said, it was shorter then his own wand and made from the same wood. Why they were painted and polished differently was beyond his understanding. Also what was the point in the stones, none of the other students had stones embedded in there wands. "I need to be sure? Describe your dream!"

"Why?" Norman questioned her. "What is the significance of it?" She became angry with his lack of obedience, so she raised her wand. He reached for his own mermaid tear wand, but it was too late.

"Legilimens!" Everything flashed as he saw through the eyes of the victim is his dream being burned to death. Norman begged her to stop as the flames engulfed him, but the dream wasn't ending. He expected to see Benson Write standing with Leslie Squire, however... Wendi Cook was standing with Benson.

"Yes," she thought out loud. "My dream had me seeing things through Leslie's point of view while you were the victim. She pulled an I.D card out of his front pocket. "Gruntman Snout... alright then Mr. Snout, why are we so interested in Dragon Heartstring? Where would we go next? She kept going through his pockets, but then turned her head to see a frighted boy in the shadows. The boy held out his wand paralyzed in fear. "They have three wands in total then. Although the Unicorn Horn wand is giving them trouble. So this story ends with them defeating four wizards with Dragon Heartstring wands, due to the wands being loyal to the stronger wizards, the victorious." The flash ended and Norman fell on the ground panting as she begun wiping her wand with a cloth. "Thank you for your help, I will be sure to call you on my investigation if we share anymore dreams."

"Why did you use a spell on me? Also how did you know we had the same dream?"

"I suspected it had something to do with our wands," she shrugged. "I used this spell because you were uncooperative. I will use another if you turn me in." She pointed her wand at his chin and he stumbled back in fear. "That's what I thought. Never doubt a Slytherin's resolve." She turned to the door and exited the classroom.

Norman wasn't sure why she was after all this information, but after everything that has happened he knows one thing. He's not going let her solve this mystery first.

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"So we have three wands then," Trixie Salt spoke up as she drew circles in the dirt. "The Unicorn horn wand works best with me I suppose until I get a Dragon Heart String."

"They will be after us soon," Benson Write growled through his teeth as he glared at his white and grey wand with two green stones along it. It was a five inch wand that had belonged to the boy he had killed. The son of Gruntman Snout. Leslie Squire sat back polishing her nailes without a care in the world. She has her Dragon heartstring wand witch will serve her just as well as her first wand did, before it was snapped and she was sent to Azkaban.

"Is the boy's wand a dragon heartstring wand?" Trixie asked and Benson shook his head.

"No," Benson spoke up. "I don't know what it is, but it seems to be triggered by my emotions. It might be just as useless in my hands as the Unicorn Horn wand was."

"You sure Benson," the final of the four spoke up as he finished shaving his beard. He took the knife and started working on carving a wand out of the human's bone. "Do you have the heartstring?"

"The white dragon's heartstring is right here," Leslie spoke up as she pulled a jar out of her jacket.

"It may not be my Albino Pheonix Feather wand," the man laughed. "But this will do just fine."

"Who's bone is that?" Benson asked.

"One of the Azkaban guards," Nathan Fries responded as he ran his hand along his dragon tattoo on his own neck. "It's just long enough and straight enough to turn into the perfect replacement of my last wand. Although Olivander gave me a white Oak wand."

"You're sick Nathan," Benson grumbled.

"Relax Benson," Nathan Fries responded. "We are approaching our destiny. When the ritual is complete we will become all powerful. Then no one will lock us away ever again. We can perform whatever rituals we want, no matter how dark they are." He turned his head to Trixie Salt. "Light the circles."

"Incendio," she spoke up as the circles she drew lit up with blue fire. "He grabbed his carved bone wand and the dragon heart string and begun binding them together using the flames.

"I can feel my victims crying in agony," Nathan Fries grinned as his mind flashed to the guard screaming before having his bones plucked out one by one. Then he flashed to the dragon that tried to burn him to death, but was stabbed by the very knife he used to make his wand.

The ritual finished and he held up his new wand victoriously. "A fine piece if I do say so my self." The other three stared at him with disgusts, but decided not to challenge him on it.

"Let's just get back to finding better wands," Trixie Salt sighed. The four of them walked off into the night.