When the police came, the Muggle woman could only shrug helplessly as they asked about the man renting the flat above her shop. To be honest, she knew very little about him. He showed up at her door one day, asking about the flat above her shop. He had the cash already, so she had given it to him without a second's hesitation. Now, she was haunted by the man's presence. He disappeared for weeks at a time, leaving without a trace, and returning as suddenly as he left. She did not care too much, because since he had moved in crime rates had dropped drastically and known criminals started to show up dead on the local constable's doorstep. Somehow, she knew that he was connected to the killings. Thus, she was not surprised that police ended up on her doorstep, asking about her mysterious guest. But she could not help them, for she knew as little about him as they did.

Three weeks into his summer break and Harry had still not forgotten the image of Vandermine bursting into the room, weapons drawn. It was a terrifying picture, one that haunted him in his nights and plagued him when he was awake. In those few seconds Before Vandermine holstered his weapon, he was a ferocious machine, ready to kill on impulse; two minutes later he was calm and unconcerned. The ease with which he switched between the two unnerved Harry. Now he understood why Vandermine was such a dangerous man. He could have shot Harry, Ron and Hermione before any of them could have blinked, so fast was his entry. It was inhuman.

"What has Dumbledore gotten us into?" he asked aloud, staring at the pages of his journal. Images flashed from the past month rushed through his brain. What a way to end the school year. Sirius appearing and escaping, Vandermine almost killing them, Hermione punching Malfoy…

She has a great arm, he told himself repeatedly. Draco was so surprised when she hit him. I wish I had a picture of it.

A heavy fist pounded on his door. Harry turned to the door slowly, wondering what Uncle Vernon, for that was the only person he knew of with such a meaty fist, wanted.

"Harry, you've got a visitor."

"What?" Harry took a step towards the door and frowned. He hadn't received letters or anything so far this summer. A visit was the last thing he had expected.

"Yes, Potter. A visitor! Get downstairs and get rid of him now."

Vernon's voice had a sense of urgency to it. His visitor must be a wizard then, and a man. Perhaps it was a Ministry official. Harry doubted that. Why would the Ministry send someone to his house?

"Coming." Harry exhaled sharply and grabbed his wand. After adjusting his glasses, he inched the door open and started down the hallway. He heard voices below. Uncle Vernon was trying to start a conversation with the guest, seeing if this one was as 'bloody wacked' as the others. Judging by the fact that his voice kept going, this one was not.

Harry mentally reviewed his list of acquaintances that could pass as Muggles. The list was very short, and the one that first came to mind sent chills up his spine. Obviously a wizard, but passable as a Muggle: Vandermine. Great, that's just what I need.

Harry rounded the stairwell and walked hesitantly down the stairs. He paused in shock though, as it was not Vandermine below in the hallway but Judder McDouglass. He looked like a special security guard, from the black suit he wore to the earpiece connected by a wire to a radio in his pocket. A slight bulge on his left chest told Harry that he had a gun.

"Harry, how are you." McDouglass asked cheerfully. He waved to Harry and pulled an envelope out of his jacket. "I've got a letter for you from your pal, Snuffles."

"Who is Snuffles?" Vernon asked casually, trying to gain some information. Judder cast him a bored glance and handed the letter to Harry.

"An escaped mass-murderer, if you want to know. He's a friend of Harry's."

Vernon blanched in terror and ran from the room, muttering about 'dangerous wizards' and the like. Harry watched him go with a chuckle and accepted the letter. His chuckle died in his throat when he realized who was handing him the letter.

"Vandermine didn't find him, did he?"

"No." Judder said quietly. "Dumbledore told me where to find him, and we… Kathryn and I have been giving him the news and sending him what he needs. He's a clever fellow, good at hiding and very resourceful. The hardest part of it is not letting Lucas catch on. He stopped looking, just like Dumbledore ordered, but he's been frustrated about it. He keeps tapping into the Ministry's communications to check for sightings of him."

Harry opened the envelope with his wand and read the letter quickly. It was short, mainly just explaining how Sirius was doing and his hopes that one day he would be exonerated so they could live as a family. There were also some postcards from where he had been over the past weeks. The Caribbean, Bahamas, Australia, and some European country that he didn't recognize. The letter made no mention of Vandermine.

"So Vandermine hasn't found him. He still doesn't know, does he?"

Judder shook his head and sighed. "If he did, he'd probably snap."

Harry gave him a confused look, but Judder just nodded.

"You can't possibly imagine how fragile his sanity is right now. Once his family was murdered and he was caught at the Lestrange's-"

"It's okay, he told me about Bellatrix."

"Well, he's carrying more guilt and responsibility right now than any man should. He can't escape the guilt about what he did, or what he thinks he did. It's driving him insane, I think. Right now rage is about the only thing that keeps him from killing himself."

"What?'

"Yeah, I doubt anyone's told you about that. He's on suicide watch right now."

"He is?" Harry blinked in surprise. Vandermine was so strong, so powerful. He looked anything but suicidal. "How long has he-"

"Ever since we found him again. He's tried it twice, but we stopped him each time."

"That's sad. How do you watch him?"

"It's not as bad as it sounds. He never came close either time. I know him well enough to know that he'd never actually pull the trigger. He'll load the gun, sure, but he won't kill himself. He'd never abandon us like that. He is too honorable to do that."

"At the risk of sounding cold, that's a pretty casual attitude about it. If he's suicidal, he should be seen by a doctor."

"We tried that. The doctor came up empty. No, Lucas is struggling with more than normal pain. His family's been murdered, he betrayed his friends, he is an inhuman creature."

He paused when Harry cleared his throat for an explanation.

"I thought you already knew that. Outrider had become so corrupted by his own Dark Magic that he used to keep himself alive, that his blood became poisonous. When he bit Lucas during their fight, after the vampires had already gotten him, Lucas had three different liquids flowing through his body. His blood was destroyed by the vampire's disease and Outrider's poison. The poison fought the diseased blood though, and it still is. Half his blood is laden with the vampire's disease, the other half is werewolf blood. The poison in the blood is keeping the bloods balanced, so neither one can gain control of him. He's stuck as part vampire and part werewolf until either he dies or that poison gets drained from his body. With the poison gone though, all that blood that's been held in check will explode like a broken dam, killing him anyway. Either way, he'd die."

"So he's stuck."

"Yeah, but every year his creature traits are becoming easier to control. It's just when he loses it, and transforms, bad things happen. Most werewolves and vampires have some semblance of control once they transform. He just goes wild. We have a special room that we lock him in when he transforms, just to be safe. He built it himself, so there is no way he can get out of it or we can get in it unless he is recovered."

Harry shuddered as he thought about what Judder said. "I feel sorry for him."

"Don't tell him that. He can't stand it when people feel sorry for him. It makes him feel weak and helpless."

"Alright."

"Yeah, well," Judder tilted his head to the side and touched his earpiece. "Our ride is here. Want to come?"

"Where are we going?"

"Lucas is offering a tour of our facilities to a select few people, wizards only. You're invited to attend."

"Will anyone else be there?"

"Some of the Weasley men and Neville Longbottom are going, and Kathryn is at Hermione Granger's house convincing her to come as we speak.. Other than that, it will be Ministry officials and some Aurors."

"That's it?"

"Yeah." Judder opened the door and bowed slightly. "After you."

Harry walked out the door, wondering what he was getting himself into. There was a small Ford Explorer parked out front, completely empty. He glanced back at Judder, who was shutting the door behind them.

"Did you drive this?"

"Yes. Do you like it? It's a workhorse." He strode past Harry and opened the passenger door. "Hop in."

Harry entered the car carefully. When he drove with the Dursley's, it was always the back seat for him. He had never been in the passenger seat before. The feeling felt good, sitting in the front of the car for once.

"Buckle up and here we go." Judder eased down on the gas and the car took off, accelerating smoothly until the Dursley's house was gone from sight. Harry stared out the window as they drove, watching the houses and trees fly past. It was exhilarating to be able to experience the speed of a car like this.

"How far away is your headquarters?"

"Not too far. Near Diagon Alley."

"What's it look like?"

"You are full of questions, aren't you."

"Sorry." Harry sank back in his seat, chagrined by his calm demeanor. "Just curious."

"That's fine. It's a pretty big building. Six stories, marble walls, large entryway."

"How do you hide that from the Muggles?"

"We don't. To Muggles, our company is technically a PMC, or independent security force. We take jobs from dozens of countries."

"How do you keep them from finding out about your magic?"

"The building is swept every hour for surveillance devices. All of our missions are recorded and stored in a safe that no one can enter without a wand. When asked how we do our missions, we just don't tell them. 'Trade Secret.' Works like a charm. Most of our employers couldn't care less how the job gets done as long as it's done quietly and without trails."

"That's got to be hard."

"Not really. We've got twenty men in the company, but everyone thinks we have hundreds of operators. We encourage the rumor. Life's easier that way, with intelligence spooks chasing down imaginary operatives and such instead of concentrating on the few we actually have."

"How many missions do you handle?"

"Typically its twenty or so a year. We never send more than a dozen men out at a time. That way we can keep up appearances as being a large group."

"What all do you do, on your missions?"

"A little bit of everything. We've assassinated terrorists, assaulted strongholds, guarded buildings, anything that you'd need a gunman for. Our work is purely mercenary. Check that, we'll take anything that has us shooting at bad guys. When terrorists show up asking for help, we juts bag them and hand them over to US SOCOM."

"They've done that?"

"Twice. After the second one, an Al-Qaeda commander, they realized it was stupid. It was fun while it lasted though."

"You guys must be earning a lot then, doing this stuff."

"Millions per mission. Our employers pay well for our work, mainly because we've never failed, and never will."

"Have you ever lost anyone?"

"Not one. We've all gotten wounded, but we've never had an operative die."

"That's lucky."

"To some. Actually though, Lucas invented a spell that can stop bullets. The spell gives the skin a layer that absorbs the energy from a bullet. The bullet hits the layer, loses its energy and drops. It'll last as long as you can concentrate on it."

"Amazing."

"Yeah. You should have seen the looks on some of the terrorists' faces when they shot us in the head and we kept on going."

Harry could almost imagine that look. He wondered how long those men had lived after realizing that their shots had no effect.

"Judder, can I ask you a question?"

"Haven't you been asking them for the past ten minutes?"

"I mean a personal question. About Ms. Stringer."

"You can call her Kathryn. Go ahead. I'll tell you anything you want to know about her that she would let me."

"Is she really a veela?"

"Half-veela. Her mother was a pure veela, but her dad was a wizard. Why?"

"Just wondering. Ron told me she was, but I wanted to make sure. Every time she looks my way…"

"She does that to pretty much everyone. She can turn her charm on and off like a switch. She's not much older than you, actually. She's only twenty-two."

"Are you serious?" Harry's jaw dropped in astonishment. "She looks a lot older."

"Part of her veela blood. They reach full maturity at the age of thirteen. They also live longer, typically for one hundred and twenty years."

"Wow."

"She's too old for you."

"I wasn't going to ask." His cheeks reddened from the comment and he ducked his head into his arm, faking a cough. Judder just smiled and nodded his head.

"Didn't think you would either."

Neither spoke for the next few minutes. Judder concentrated on navigating through the heavy traffic while Harry gazed out the window at the passing sites. He had never realized before how large London was. The city went on for miles, stretching farther than he could see. It was an awesome sight.

"Does Kathryn really love Vandermine?"

Judder slammed on the brake, swerving around a corner and into an alleyway. The car jerked to a halt so quickly that Harry was thrown forward in his seat. The seatbelt dug into his neck, choking him. Then the car settled back and he fell against the seat, gasping for breath.

"What was that for?"

"Sorry," Judder checked the rearview mirror and groaned. He put the car in park and placed his hands on the dashboard. "That's a touchy subject."

"I'm sorry for asking then."

"It's okay. If you knew that much you might as well know all of it." He took a deep breath and switched off the car.

"Yes, she loves him. She's been obsessed with him ever since she first met him."

"When was that?"

"Four years ago. Her village in Germany had been attacked by vampires. Lucas and I were in the area on business at the time, so we went to investigate. We found the village and tracked the vampires back to their lair. There was a whole clan of them, twenty or so complete with a patriarch. Lucas and I fought our way in, looking for survivors. It was a pretty ugly sight. The vampires had been taking the villagers one at a time. Instead of each one taking one for a few weeks, all twenty-some of them used one per meal. That much blood loss killed the person. All that would be left was the dried out husk, too little for even the vampire's curse to infect."

"That's horrible." Harry tried to picture what that would look like, but gave up. It was too gruesome.

"She was one of the handful of villagers that hadn't been bitten yet. We grabbed her and the other survivors and escaped. The others fled to the neighboring villages afterwards, but she refused to leave us. She followed us through the country. We caught her skulking around our camp several times, and each time Lucas drove her away, but she kept coming back. In the end, and against my judgment, Lucas knocked her out and left her with a Wizard family in Paris."

"No surprise there."

"No kidding. Anyway, we traveled back to London and established our company. At first we did very little, having only two operatives. But then a pack of Lucas' former students showed up one day. They signed up and we got the business going full speed. In months we had established a reputation as a powerful and efficient PMC."

"Where'd she come back in?"

"She arrived on our doorstep three years ago. She wanted a job, and I signed her up before Lucas even knew she had arrived. He was mad about it, but I think he was secretly impressed with her determination. Originally he gave her a desk job, but she ended up getting an operations badge when we were short on people and needed a team to go to the Congo. She volunteered so we took her. She proved very useful in gaining information that we needed. Thanks to her we accomplished the mission without having to kill anyone."

"That's good."

"The problem started when she began requesting missions with Lucas. He was fine with it, we figured she wanted to be with a more experienced operative. One year later though, she was still requesting missions exclusively with Lucas, and she had put in several advances on him. When Lucas and I realized she was infatuated with him, we stopped sending her on missions and put her back behind a desk. Eventually, she managed to tone it down, and we allowed her to go on missions again, but she never got rid of it. She's head over heels for him, and we haven't been able to do a thing about it. He's tried saying no, but she won't take any answer but a yes."

"Why doesn't he say yes?"

"Who knows? Loyalty to his dead family, thinks she's too young, it could be anything. He is in his forties after all, and he's never gotten over losing his family, obviously."

"So what's the situation now?"

"She's one of his top aides, a position where we can keep an eye on her and where she can put her skills to best use. She hasn't been as obvious this year, but she's still trying."

"She must have a lot of patience."

"Not enough. This infatuation is bad for her. It's disrupting her life and creating tension in the company. Every time Lucas says no, it breaks her heart. I've caught her in crying in closets more times than I can count. He's not trying to do it, but Lucas is hurting her a lot. He's tried to persuade her to stop, but there's nothing he can do, except to say yes. He won't do that, for her sake and his."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if they get married, it would cause more problems than it would solve. You can't do this work while worrying about how your spouse is doing on some other mission. Distractions like that get people killed. One of them would have to give up their job, and it wouldn't be him. If she gets hurt or dies, it'll be like his family's murder all over again. He's not willing to risk that pain again. Even if the company wasn't an obstacle though, he'd never return her feelings like she wants him to. He's stuck in his past."

"So, she's in a lose-lose situation. So is Vandermine."

"Yeah." Judder turned the key in the ignition and the car roared back to life. "Don't tell Lucas or Kathryn that we had this conversation."

"Right."

Judder proceeded through the alley and exited onto the road. Their car moved smoothly through the traffic, weaving through life water. They drove for five minutes before Judder pointed at an upcoming building.

"There she is. Home sweet home." He pulled the car onto a side road and entered the parking lot. Harry noted that the guard at the gate was armed with a submachine gun. The guard scanned Judder's ID card and waved them in with a friendly smile. Judder parked the car in the executive parking and turned the car off. He hopped out of the car and started for the door. Harry followed quickly, matching his pace as they walked through the lot.

They entered through a set of double doors and were greeted by the security team. Instead of the Muggle metal detectors, two guards carried long orange wands that glowed a faint red. As they waved the wands in front of Harry, he felt a curious tingling sensation. The hairs on his arms stood on end as the wands passed. When the guards dropped the wands to their sides, the sensation left and his nerves calmed down.

"You're clear." The lead guard announced. "Welcome to the HQ, Mr. Potter."

Judder nodded his approval to the guards and strode towards the elevators. Harry hurried to keep up, glancing around at the building's interior. The walls were painted pure white, with no ornamentation or decoration of any kind. The result made the place look clean and spacious. It was creepy how white the room was.

"Here we go," Judder said as he stepped into an elevator. "Visitor's entrance, Second Floor. Everyone else should be there by now."

Harry felt his stomach lurch as the elevator rose up. A feeling of apprehension clawed at his mind. The last time he had seen Vandermine, he had been staring down the barrel of a pistol. The doors slid open with a hiss, revealing the room beyond. He swallowed hard when he saw the crowd of wizards huddled by the main desk. There were well over twenty of them, many of them famous wizards that Harry had read about before. They all stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him as he left the elevator. He heard them muttering under their breaths.

"Harry, you made it!" Neville appeared from the middle of the crowd, Fred, George and Ron right behind him. "For a while we thought you weren't coming."

"Fred and George were betting that you wouldn't show up." Ron grabbed him by the arm and pulled him through the crowd, squeezing through the throng of older wizards. They emerged on the other side in front of a large marble desk. Kathryn Stringer was seated behind the desk, wearing a typical secretary outfit. She greeted him warmly, shaking his hand vigorously.

"Where's Hermione?" he asked, not seeing her anywhere.

"She declined the invitation." Kathryn replied. She shook her head slightly and laughed. "Busy with schoolwork."

From the strained way she said 'schoolwork,' Harry realized that Hermione's reason was anything but schoolwork. She was probably still getting over the end-of the-year confrontation with Vandermine.

"Ah." Harry accepted the lie for what it was and nodded his head. "Already got her nose in the books."

"She told me to say hello."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing fit for civilized company, if you're asking about Lucas."

"That's Hermione for you. At this rate she'll never start liking him." Ron elbowed Harry on the arm and pointed to a large set of double doors past the desk. "He's in there, finishing up a meeting with the Americans."

"The Americans?"

"Yeah. There're some special forces soldiers in there. They're part of…" Ron's brow furrowed in concentration as he racked his memory for the name. "Demo Force?"

"Delta Force." Kathryn returned to her seat behind the desk and put on a headset. "The meeting is over. He's coming out now."

The doors behind the desk opened and Vandermine strode out, wearing a business suit. He approached the crowd of wizards slowly, looking each one in the eye as he neared them. The wizards quieted down and watched him expectantly.

"I welcome you, members of the Ministry. It is good to see you here Sorry about the delay. Let's begin, shall we."

Vandermine indicated the doors behind him. "In there is the meeting room, where all of our business is done. It is completely soundproof and has multiple surveillance devices placed at strategic points in the room. Please follow me."

The crowd of wizards trouped into the room, whispering quietly amongst themselves. Harry, and the other teenagers started to follow, but Kathryn halted them with an outstretched arm.

"Hold it guys, that's the wrong way. You guys get the real tour. That's Judder in there. He is just giving them the rough tour to keep them happy."

The wall to the right of the desk shifted and a door appeared. The real Vandermine appeared beside the door and gave a short wave.

"Let's go." He whispered. "Before they come back."

Fred and George whispered something that Harry could not hear, but he understood the gist of it. Another idea for a prank, probably.

They hurried through the doorway, staying silent until they had all entered and the door had shut behind them. Vandermine cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Welcome to the real HQ." he waved his arm wide to indicate the room they were standing in." This is the entryway. On our right is the armory, on the left is the planning room and Sim-room. Straight ahead is the vault, where we store all our recordings. Where do you want to go first?"

"The armory," Ron blurted before the others could respond. "I heard you've got a whole collection of dueling wands in there."

"Among other things, yes." Vandermine looked to the others for approval. They nodded their heads in agreement. "Okay, go on in."

Harry and Neville exchanged nervous looks. Neither of them knew exactly what the word 'armory' meant, but it sounded dangerous. Ron just pushed past them and headed for the door. They followed him timidly, wondering what was inside. The door swung open as they approached. Harry took a deep breath and entered, praying that he was making a good choice.

The sight inside took his breath away. He had seen a lot of guns in Vandermine's office, hung from pegs on the walls, but he had never seen this many. The room was easily the size of Hogwart's Great Hall. There were thousands of guns in the room. The walls were covered with rifle cases organized by the countries of origin. Some of the countries had only a handful of different weapons, others had hundreds. The United States section alone covered almost half of one wall. Every ten feet or so the walls recessed so that crates of extra weapons could be stored out of the way. Containers of ammunition were placed at the corners of the room, located near the weapons that used the same caliber rounds for easy access. At least fourteen different calibers of bullets were spread amongst the containers. Looking past all that, to the back wall, he saw crates of explosives lined up neatly in stacks that reached halfway to the ceiling. Twenty different explosive projectile weapons were placed neatly on a long table in front of the wall, aligned with the weapon's ammunition stacked behind it. The weapons ranged from a pair of small handheld grenade launchers to a humongous tripod-mounted rocket launchers. The rockets fired by that one were almost as long as Harry was tall.

While the display was impressive, it was the tables in the middle of the room that drew his real attention. Two long steel tables stretched from one end of the room to the other, displaying dozens of wands and swords. Harry saw Roman short swords, English rapiers, and even Japanese sais in the long rows of blades lining the northern table. On the other table were a host of wands and other magical weapons. Dueling wands dominated the center of the table, but on the far side were a range of potions and magic components that Harry had never seen before. Chimera hairs, dragon teeth and dozens of other foreign objects that he could not recognize were spread in rows along the table. The sight was overpowering.

"This is where we store our equipment between missions. As you can see, we've got a lot of it." Vandermine strode past them into the room and swept his arm in a semicircle across the room. "We buy this many weapons for flexibility. Frankly, we'll never use them all, but if someone wants someone assassinated and wants a specific group blamed for it, we just find out what guns they use and grab our own versions of them. It makes the job easier."

Harry nodded absently. He walked over to the wand-table and started reading the plaques beside each wand. The plaques held the names of who had wielded the wands. There were some famous names, but none too famous. Harry recognized many of them from on Vandermine's wall. Most of them had been taken from dead Death Eaters.

"There's a target range in there if you want to try out anything. We've got plenty of ammunition."

Harry stayed at the wand-table while the others looked around the room. Every once in a while he heard someone ask Vandermine a question about one weapon or another. They all drifted towards different sections of the room. Fred and George crowded around the magical items, thinking up various uses for them in future pranks. Ron wandered among the sword displays, gazing in wonder at the many different types of swords. Neville seemed to be the only one interested in the guns. He and Vandermine walked up and down the sides of the room, examining different guns. From the snatches of conversation that Harry overheard, Neville was finding the guns that his parents had used on one particularly nasty mission that they had been on.

As Harry studied the wands, he felt himself drawn unconsciously towards the middle of the display. Of the entire display of wands, only one was locked away. It was a large wand, easily two feet across and a half-inch thick. When Harry touched the glass case, the air inside the case wavered faintly. Before he could pull his hand back, his mind was assaulted by a wave of emotions. He stepped back with a strangled cry, clutching at his scar, which flared angrily. Vaguely, he was aware of some kind of intelligence forcing its way into his mind.

Harry.

The wand shook under the casing. Harry stared at it hard, wondering what was going on.

Harry, the voice repeated. I have waited a long time for you.

Harry rubbed his eyes and looked at the wand again. The wand was shining faintly now. An urge to claim the wand started pushing at his hand, moving it closer to the case.

Let me out of here. Think of what we could do. Think of the power that you could wield through me. With me at your hand, you could become the most powerful wizard in history!

His hand grabbed at the lock on the case. The lock was solid steel. It wouldn't budge.

Use your wand. Unleash me from this cursed case.

"Harry!"

The intelligence withdrew back into the wand, removing its hold on Harry. He looked around quickly, realizing that everyone was staring at him. Vandermine strode up to him and gently pushed him away from the case.

"I forgot to mention that. Stay away from that wand, it's intelligent."

"No kidding." Harry took a couple steps backwards and rubbed his aching head. "That thing just jumped into my mind."

"Yeah, it does that. Had a nasty owner, and some of his taint spread to it before he died."

Harry glanced down to read the plaque. Johannes Outrider. No wonder it had been so powerful.

"Why do you have it here? Shouldn't it be locked up somewhere safe?"

"We tried that, but it didn't work. It corrupted the guard we set on it. If it weren't for the fact the troll was too large to get to the wand, it would have taken it and who knows what would have happened."

"So… you just leave it here then?"

"No. I use it most of the time."

"What? You use it?"

"It doesn't affect me." Vandermine unlocked the latch on the case and rapped it twice with his other wand. The lid popped open with a hiss as compressed air shot out. For a brief second the intelligence came rushing back at Harry, but it was jerked backwards with a scream of rage when Vandermine picked up the wand. He paid it no more than a passing glance before sliding it into one of the many hidden sheathes in his coat.

"That should shut it up for a while. Let's move on to the next room."

They filed out of the room quietly, exchanging information about what they had seen. Ron had seen a particularly fascinating longsword from the Middle Ages that had been enchanted so that it created ice when it struck solid surfaces. It had been used by dragon hunters in Germany. The sword sounded amazing, but Harry was too busy thinking about Outrider's wand to pay much attention.

He's carrying an evil sentient wand. Doesn't he realize that it could be affecting him? Maybe that's why he is always so angry.

"Here's the Sim-room." Vandermine opened the door and waved for them to go in. They entered this room more confidently than they had entered the armory, expecting something similar. To their surprise though, the room was completely empty. Everything was painted a uniform gray. The uniformity of the room made it hard to judge where the floor and ceiling ended and where the walls began. For all Harry knew, the far wall was a mile away.

"What do you do in here?" Ron asked, craning his neck as he tried to gauge the distances in the room. "It empty."

"Not as empty as you would think." Vandermine reached out past them and struck the near wall with his wand. A small portion of the wall dissolved away, revealing a white door and a large viewing glass. "That's our observation room. Go on inside."

The observation room was small compared to the other rooms, but it was far from the least interesting. Banks of computer monitors and fancy-looking machines lined the back wall. Harry gave the monitors a closer look and saw that they were all connected to cameras placed in the adjacent room. They gave him a complete view of the room. Beside each monitor was a joystick and a small keyboard. He guessed those were the camera controls.

"This is where our mission simulations are observed and critiqued. While one team runs the mission in there," he indicated the room they had come from, "the other teams watch and take notes."

"How do you simulate it if there's nothing in there?"

"That room is equipped with prototype holographic projectors. We can create whatever scenario we want just by punching in a few buttons into the main computer. Type in either the coordinates or the scenario and the room will be configured to fit. It can even do time periods."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Go ahead, type one in."

Harry, Ron and Neville approached the main computer slowly, discussing what they should do. There were so many choices.

"Let's do an old fashioned one. Middle Ages."

Neville nodded in agreement. "Sounds good, but where?"

"I've got a better idea." Ron turned towards Vandermine. "Can you do fantasy stuff?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, like orcs and goblins."

"Yes, it can do that. Just select Fantasy under the main settings."

Ron looked back to Harry and Neville, grinning broadly. "I want to see him in action. Let's do it."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. Frankly, he had already seen Vandermine in action before. He was unnervingly fast and strong. This way however, they would see him killing monsters, not humans. It was not as creepy that way.

"Here we go, Fantasy, woodlands, orcs." Ron pressed the corresponding keys and the room warped before their eyes. The walls and floor disappeared. In their place appeared trees and bushes and long grass. The scene looked completely realistic.

"And here we go." Vandermine opened the door to the Sim-room and pulled out a dueling wand. Harry recognized it as the same one he had used during their tryouts for the Dueling Club. "Anyone want to come out too, or do you all want to watch?"

When none offered to accompany him, Vandermine shrugged and went out the door. It slid shut behind him, settling into place with an ominous clack. Data started scrolling across the main screen as the holographic computer analyzed the new arrival.

"Threat level 10 detected. Supplying adequate hostile forces."

"What do you think that means?" Ron asked Harry. Harry shrugged helplessly.

"I have no idea. I'm pretty sure we're about to find out though."

"Shh." Neville elbowed them both to get their attention. "Where'd Vandermine go?"

Everyone stopped talking and looked at the monitors. Vandermine had disappeared. They scoured the viewscreens, searching for a glimpse of him. After a minute of searching, they gave up.

"Oh well, he'll show up in a few minutes anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"The orcs just showed up."

Neville pointed out into the forest. A troupe of orcs were making their way through the brush, moving cautiously from point to point. They were hideous. Each orc was tall and lean, with leathery skin and fanged mouths that dripped venom every time they breathed. Their weapons were a motley collections of blades and clubs; only a handful of their swords actually looked clean. Their armor was no better. Some wore animal skins and loincloths, others wore heavy plate mail. They moved in a rough circle, staying close together for support. The ones on the outer edges poked at the underbrush with their swords, as if they were searching for someone; Vandermine, probably.

"Look, there he is!" Ron grabbed Harry's arm to get his attention. Harry followed the direction of his outstretched arm and saw a flash of red in a large tree above the orcs. "He's going to jump them."

They watched silently as the orcs moved in around the tree. One or two of them glanced up at the tree, but none of them noticed Vandermine as he crouched in the upper branches. They plodded on, oblivious to the shadowy figure crouching in the leafy boughs above their heads.

Then, just as the group's center reached the tree, Vandermine struck. He leapt from his place and plummeted downwards towards the surprised orcs. His wand flashed in a silvery arc and the nearest orc tumbled away, clutching its bleeding throat. Vandermine moved the instant he hit the ground. Spinning on one leg to keep his balance, he dodged a hastily thrown spear and brought his wand up to deflect a sword strike. In the same movement his other leg lashed out and caught the sword-bearer in the face. The orc stumbled backwards, grunting in pain, but Vandermine reached it before it hit the ground. His wand flashed red as it slid across the orc, leaving a trail of fire across its chest. The orc screeched in pain and fell to the ground. The flames consumed it in seconds, burning it to death.

Two orcs rushed at Vandermine's exposed back, thinking to bring him down from behind. Vandermine fell backwards into a roll as their blades swept in and came up between them. His wand flashed twice and the orcs fell lifelessly to the ground, their heads separated from their shoulders. A third orc approached him from the side, keeping its blade out defensively. Vandermine knocked the blade aside with a powerful swing and stabbed it in the heart. The orc groaned in protest and collapsed across its headless companions.

Four orcs remained alive. They faced Vandermine cautiously, staying close to each other for support while advancing steadily on him. He faced them all with a determined glare. The middle two orcs held their ground just a few feet in front of him, keeping him occupied while the other two circled to either side of him. He allowed them to fully encircle him, not once taking his eyes off of the two orcs facing him. Once they were all in position he moved like lightning. His wand moved so quickly that it appeared as one continuous flash. The four orcs stayed upright for a second, swaying in the wind, then they toppled over onto the grass, shock etched on their faces.

Vandermine sheathed his wand and the room dissolved back to its original, grey form. Everyone was speechless when he entered the observation room.

"That's what we do in here. We're running out of time, so lets head to the vault."

The kids nodded dumbly and followed him out of the room. As the door slid shut behind them, Ron turned to Harry, awe still on his face.

"Did you see that? He's amazing."

"Yeah." Harry muttered. When Ron looked away he added under his breath, "deadly amazing."

The final room was the smallest of the three. A row of filing cabinets lined the back wall and that was it. Harry felt slightly disappointed. This looked like it would be a boring end to the tour.

"This is where we store our mission records. Is there anything you want to see?"

Harry glanced dubiously at the file cabinets. "What do you have?"

"Everything. Every mission, every interview, every operation."

"Do you have your battle with Outrider?" Neville walked up to one of the cabinets, labeled Non-work. "I told Harry I'd show him that one."

Vandermine's expression soured, but he said nothing. He aimed his wand at the cabinet and whispered a command that none of them could hear. The cabinet slid open to reveal a line of clear goldfish-like bowls. Each bowl was full of a shining liquidy substance that swirled in circular patterns through the bowl.

"Pensieves," Ron explained to Harry, who was staring in wonder at them. "That's a lot of them."

One of the Pensieves rose from its place in the drawer and glided over to the table. They gathered around it eagerly, searching the images as they swirled in and out of focus in the bowl. Vandermine stabbed his wand into the middle of the bowl and muttered something, probably a password. The liquid ceased flowing and solidified, leaving one image at the top of the bowl.

"Here it is," Vandermine grunted. "I'll let you do this one on your own."

Neville nodded his thanks to Vandermine and turned to face the others. "Here we go. Just concentrate on the image."

Harry's eyes flicked from Vandermine's face to the image in the bowl. Vandermine returned his gaze with an angry grimace. Then Ron nudged Harry in the shoulder.

"Come on, here we go."

Harry tore his eyes away from Vandermine and looked back at the Pensieve. The image in the bowl started to move, growing larger and becoming clearer until it filled Harry's vision, although he was still an arm's length away. He felt a peculiar falling sensation in his stomach and the image rushed towards him. He closed his eyes and surrendered his mind to the image, allowing it to fill his mind…