Chapter Ten: The Wand Maker.

The day of Hogsmeade finally arrived on a dismal and dreary Saturday. The rain continued to not let up as students began to carry their thick cloaks every where they went. Passing through the courtyard and into the greenhouses, even for the briefest of moments would have gotten one soaked to the toes.

In response to this, Professor Flitwick had begun to have classes on Repelling and Drying Charms. Hermione, who had always been brilliant with her Charms work, mastered them quickly, as did most of the other students. It wasn't that the Charms themselves were easy; it was simply the determination to get through one day of class without dealing with the cold weather.

For the next several days Harry did not speak to Ron and Hermione. He ignored them at every chance he had. If they were at the common room, he would flee to the library. He would wake up as early as possible to do his run and eat breakfast before they were even awake. He silently thanked Professor Castor for teaching him how to deal with sixteen hour days without feeling exhausted or burned out. On the day before Hogsmeade, Harry wasn't at all surprised to not see Castor in his Defense Against the Dark Arts course. Once again, the Auror whom everyone was now calling Sevagio avoided Harry altogether, in the hopes of that Harry wouldn't ask him any more questions about his past or relation to Castor.

Harry wasn't foolish. He knew perfectly well that Sevagio was avoiding him, as well as Ron and Hermione knew that Harry was avoiding them. Harry felt out of place and was getting more and more irritated with each passing hour. Although it was nearing the end of October, Harry had still not had the chance of speaking to Castor. To make things worse, he refused, flat out to speak with his two best friends, on the account that they would try to dissuade him from going to the Hog's Head. To make things even more complicated, during these days Harry was spending more and more time with Ginny.

'Harry,' she had said tiredly while walking out of dinner on Friday night. 'Just go and talk to them. This is getting a bit out of hand.'

'I'll talk to them tomorrow,' Harry said not helping but noticing he sounded like a child. 'Once tomorrow is done with everything will be back to normal.'

Ginny opened her mouth to say something but thought better of it, and let the conversation drop. Although Harry hadn't told her the reason behind his present difficulties with Ron and Hermione, he knew that Hermione would probably have told her about the letter Sevagio had given him instructing him to go to the Hog's Head, alone, and not followed.

To Harry's relief, Ginny didn't press the matter, but simply walked in silence.

Their relationship, if that be the correct word, wasn't complicated, but then again it wasn't simple Harry thought bitterly. They were spending more amount of time together as the days passed but everything between them was strained. At least, that's how Harry felt. They wouldn't talk about anything important, mostly Quidditch, Harry had finally gotten around to posting tryouts the following day after Hogsmeade, and their school work. Ginny had not mentioned the Horcruxes or their break up of last school year all the while, however Harry had caught her giving him longing looks or deep resentment and remorse.

Or maybe that was his imagination.

Finally, on a dreary and cloudy Saturday, Hogsmeade had arrived. Harry awoke feeling completely exhausted. His entire body ached and he felt soar when he reached for his glasses. He sat up in bed and looked out the window.

Rain.

He scratched the back of his head before standing up. He yawned tiredly and pulled on his jeans and a simple black button down shirt which he had acquired from Castor's house. He walked through the portrait hole, ignoring the Fat Lady's rebuke of having to be woken up so early in the morning and headed for the Great Hall.

To no great surprise, he was the first one to arrive. Breakfast had appeared half a second before he walked in.

He sat down, grateful at least that he could drink as much coffee or eat as much bacon as he pleased without someone giving him a hard time about it. The owl post hadn't come yet so he couldn't read but found peace in the silence. As time marched through, more students and Auror's passed through.

He finished his breakfast and was about to stand up and flee to the library for more of his solitary confinement when he heard a voice from behind him.

'Potter!'

Harry wheeled around to find a very thinned lipped Professor McGonagall.

'Professor,' Harry said curtly downing the last of his coffee.

'I've noticed that you are now accustomed to early mornings,' she said stiffly.

'Yea,' Harry said plainly.

'Well,' she continued eyeing Harry with narrowed eyes, 'Merlin forbid it is my business but I have a note for you from Professor Castor.'

She handed him a folded piece of parchment and without another word turned and headed back towards the staff table.

Harry, rolling his eyes at her unfolded the letter and read.

Potter,

You damn well better show up today.

Harry smirked.

Typical. The guy is bloody paranoid.

He chucked the letter before walking out of the Great Hall, completely ignoring Ron and Hermione who had just entered. Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Ron put a hand on her shoulder and she remained silent. Harry couldn't take it anymore. Bad enough he had to go and deal with whatever it was that was waiting for him at the Hog's Head and obeying his Professor who had avoided him since day one of this year, but being completely shut out from his two best friends was driving him to the point of insanity.

As he entered the library and pulled out a book that he didn't even bother to check the title, he sighed, immediately feeling tired and restless.

One o'clock sharp he thought to himself. Just get through the day.

Several long and boring hours passed as he marched past Filch the caretaker into the pounding rain and chilling wind. He wore his jeans along with a thick black jumper and his a heavy black robe. He made a path directly for the Hog's Head.

I'll get there early, but to hell with standing out in this weather.

The Hog's Head was exactly as Harry had last seen it. He walked right past the two Aurors now patrolling Hogsmeade both looking very put out about babysitting students, but nonetheless giving him curious looks as he shoved the large oak door of the bar and walked inside.

A thick scent of tarnished oak and stale tobacco hit Harry like a bucket of water. He rubbed his eyes to block the acrid smoke but with little success. The few people inside the bar gave Harry little attention, and he mentally thanked himself for not being stupid enough to wear his school robes. He walked up to the bar, passing a wizard whose skin resembled that of a lizards and approached the aged bartender, the same he had seen the last time he had been in the cursed hell hole.

The bartender, who was cleaning a glass with probably the same rag from before, but more filthy, looked up and surveyed Harry with a bored look on his face. Without saying anything, he bent underneath the bar and pulled out a large dusty bottle with a content but intoxicated looking monk on the label.

'You're early,' the bartender huffed popping open the bottle with a wave of his wand.

Grateful at least that the bartender didn't gawk at his scar and was giving him a round on the house, Harry didn't find it strange that the bartender knew about the reason he was here.

It didn't make him feel any better either.

'Thanks,' Harry said taking the bottle to his lips and taking a swig. It tasted strong and filling. 'What is this?'

'Franziskaner Hefe-Weisse' the bartender growled picking up his rag and cleaning another glass. 'Never liked the Germans but they no how to make a good beer.'

Harry took a few more sips then looked around the bar. With the exception of the reptilian looking wizard and two witches hunched over two steaming glasses of what looked like blood, the bar was empty. Harry turned back to the bartender and looked up.

A large oil painting Harry hadn't noticed before hung above the bar. It was of a country field with rolling plains and a small opaque cottage. In the foreground were two goats. Harry stared at it, wondering what a painting like that would be hung on display at this kind of place, but then something clicked.

'Excuse me,' Harry said.

The bartender looked around and stared at him.

'Uh,' Harry said dumbly trying to figure out a way of saying this without offending the cryptic old man in front of him. 'You knew Dumbledore right?'

The bartender stared at him as though it was the dumbest question ever asked.

'Course I did. Shit, who didn't?'

'Well,' Harry said fidgeting in his seat a bit. 'How well did you know him?'

The bartender looked at Harry, then up towards the paintings of the goats. To Harry's surprise, the bartender chuckled.

'He told you about that little incident did he?'

'Who told me what?' Harry asked confused.

'Not my most proudest moment, I admit,' he said looking up at the painting, 'but I'm sure my dear brother put it into a relatively humorous way.'

'Your brother?' Harry asked not believing this dingy looking bartender with hands covered in soot and wreaking of hard liquor could in fact be,

'Aberforth?' Harry asked uncertainly. 'You're Dumbledore's brother.'

The bartender looked at Harry then checked his watch.

'Almost one,' he said grabbing Harry's glass and chucking it into a wastebasket. 'Up the stairs, boy. Last door on the left.'

Harry looked at the bartender then towards the battered staircase leading to the top flat. He never wanted anything more in his life than to just leave the Hog's Head at that moment. Instead, he stood up, thanked the barman and headed up the stairs.

The second floor of the Hog's Head was none too similar to that of the first. A short hallway with putrid green carpeting led to four doors, two on the left, and two on the right. Harry didn't want to fathom what was in the other three rooms and walked straight to the last door on the left. He approached the door, feeling apprehensive, clutching his wand within his jean pocket, taking no chances.

He knocked once, and a familiar voice called from beyond the door.

'Right on time.'

Harry took that as an invitation and opened the door and walked into the room. It was a small room, with only one window on the opposite end where two men in dark traveling cloaks sat at a round table. Upon entering, the man who had called him in stood, his dark brown hair drenched from outside, probably entering the bar half a second before Harry had done so. He looked irritable and fatigued, yet his sallow eyes were narrowed and his form rigid.

'Glad to see you made it Potter,' Sevagio said unhooking his cloak and tossing it aimlessly upon a dark leather chair that Harry suddenly recognized from Dumbledore's pensieve. Harry felt a horrifying thought as he realized the room he was standing in was the same room that Professor Trelawny had made the prophecy of him and Voldemort.

'Close the door,' Sevagio ordered.

Harry did so, clutching his wand even tighter. He turned back to face the two men, his eyes lingering to Sevagio's companion whose back was turned, looking out the window into the hard rain and Hogsmeade underneath him. The man sitting had long grizzled white hair that was tangled and untreated. He wore a thick cloak of deep purple with leather buckled boots. Harry's gaze must have caught the man's attention for he turned, his silvery eyes as large as saucers bore into Harry's.

Harry felt as though he were dreaming. Standing up and stumbling a bit, looking exhausted and so frail that a hard wind would blow the man over, stood Mr. Ollivander, the great wandmaker.

'Mr. Potter,' he said softly walking forward and taking Harry's hand, his grip very loose, 'so nice to see you again.'

Harry looked at Ollivander than back at Sevagio, trying to put the pieces together.

'Er, excuse me,' Harry said. 'But what exactly are you two doing here? I thought I was suppose to meet Professor Castor.'

Ollivander, to Harry's surprise, chuckled.

'You won't be seeing him, Mr. Potter,' he said smiling. 'Just me and this fine specimen of an Auror. Riley came just to make sure everything would be done properly.'

'You know I don't like that name,' Sevagio said coldly.

Ollivander chose to ignore him and lead Harry to this table, where a large leather briefcase sat.

'I thought you were taken,' Harry said still unable to believe that Mr. Ollivander was standing right next to him. 'Your shop… there was a struggle.'

Mr. Ollivander opened the briefcase and smiled once more. 'Deception is the best friend to a man with no options, especially one in my line of work.'

Then Harry understood.

'You destroyed your shop to look as though the Death Eaters took you. You went into hiding.'

Mr. Ollivander nodded.

'I have been living in a friend's summer estate in the southwestern part of the U.S. It's a good climate for a man of ill health like myself.'

He paused and turned away from Harry and gave a view violent coughs and cleared his throat. Turning back, Harry noticed his eyes were now drowning in water and laced with red.

'I have come back on a personal request from Professor Castor to fit you with a new item.'

Harry looked at Ollivander for a minute.

'But sir,' Harry said. 'Why would Professor Castor want me to meet you?'

'Ah well,' Ollivander said, 'That's a long story.'

Harry, who was tired of people trying to get away from a question merely crossed his arms and stood ram-rod in front of the aged wizard.

'Tell me.'

Ollivander gave Sevagio a pointed look. Understanding the gesture, Sevagio marched out of the room, muttering something about getting a drink.

'Sit,' Ollivander said gesturing Harry to the vacant chair.

The old wizard didn't sit down but merely walked into the center of the room to address Harry.

'Do you remember, Mr. Potter, what I told you the day I sold you your wand?'

Harry remembered as if it were yesterday.

'That the core of my wand and Lord Voldemort's are the same.'

'Correct,' he said. 'But do you know why?'

Harry thought for a minute then understood.

'Because the wand chooses the wizard.'

'Yes,' Ollivander said, his misty eyes dropping to the floor, looking saddened.

'When I sold that wand to you, I did not know the consequences nor the prophecy.'

'You know of that to do you?' Harry said coldly cutting him off.

Ollivander sighed.

'Harry,' he said, 'Albus Dumbledore revealed the prophecy after the Tri-Wizards Tournament. When you told him about the duel between yourself and Voldemort, that something miraculous happened.'

'Priori-Incantatum.'

'Yes.'

'But what does that have to with this?' Harry asked.

'After that night in the graveyard, Albus knew that the final duel between yourself and Voldemort would not be a battle of wands, but between minds, which, I believe is why he wanted you to master Occlumency so quickly.'

Harry was about to protest but Ollivander put his hand up and continued.

'Nonetheless, he wanted you to have something that would put you a leg up against the Dark Lord, without He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named knowing of it.'

'And that is?' Harry asked, completely confused.

Ollivander marched back to the table and opened the briefcase. Harry turned to see that inside the briefcase were over two dozen wands, all looking different and polished.

'Do you also remember what I told you the day that I gave you your wand?' he asked.

Harry tried to remember, but he couldn't. He merely shook his head.

'That although the wand may choose the wizard, Mr. Potter, other wands the wizard may use will not work as well.'

Ollivander peered inside the briefcase and with a long bony hand picked up a wand looking similar to Harry's own.

'That being said,' he whispered. 'Professor Castor has made my job quite difficult.'

OVER AN HOUR later Harry returned to the downstairs bar. Sevagio was sitting at a high table drinking a beer, pretending that he didn't notice Harry had come down. Harry felt a bizarre mix of apprehension, curiosity and realization. In his pocket of his robes he carried his own wand, on his forearm was the dagger that Castor had given him. And now, tucked inside another leather holster around the back of his waist, was another wand.

'Nine inches, pine, dragon heartstring, and good for defense,' Ollivander had said before handing the wand to Harry then without another word grabbed the briefcase and vanished.

Harry didn't like the feeling of carrying two wands on him. He understood the prophecy and what it would come down to, but the mere fact that he was armed with two wands and a dagger made him feel more like a mercenary than a student. Before he walked out the front door, he turned. Something had just occurred to him that made him stop.

He looked over at Sevagio who was still staring blankly at the top of his beer. Harry closed the door and walked straight over to the table.

Before Sevagio could say anything, Harry spoke.

'Hagrid's wand,' he blurted, now understanding.

'Potter, what are you,' Sevagio started but Harry cut him off again.

'Ollivander made that wand for Hagrid,' he said looking straight at Sevagio, his temper raising. Why hadn't anyone told him? 'That wand, that, that club that Hagrid has, Ollivander made it. Only he could make a wand that big.'

Sevagio glared at him for a while, his eyes not giving away any emotion.

'Even if that were true,' Sevagio said coldly. 'Why are you bothering me with this useless information?'

At this, Harry snapped. He slammed his hands on the table making everyone in the bar jump and turn to stare at him.

'You sure as hell know a lot about what's going on,' Harry said, trying to keep his voice down. 'The picture of you with Professor Castor, the wand that Ollivander made for Hagrid, and now you just happen to be at the Hog's Head waiting for me. Castor told you to be here didn't he?'

Sevagio remained silent until he downed his drink and stared lamely at Harry.

'Course he did, Potter,' he said nonchalantly.

'I want to know who you are, and what business you have with me, and I want to know right now!' Harry said, leaning across the table, wanting nothing more than to pull out his wand and curse the snide looking Auror.

Sevagio, very casually, stood up and dropped a Galleon unto the table. He threw on his cloak and smirked.

'Tough shit, Potter,' he said. 'You'll just have to find that out on your own.'

Before he knew what he was doing Harry pulled out his wand and pointed it at Sevagio's chest. Everyone else in the bar seemed too transfixed to do anything.

'Tell me,' Harry said through gritted teeth. 'Tell me right now or I'll,'

'You'll what?' Sevagio said taking a step closer so that his chest was only a few inches from Harry's wand. 'You gonna kill me Potter?'

Harry stood frozen, the wand feeling heavy in his hand. Sevagio smirked.

'You're not gonna do nothing, boy,' he said clasping the hook of his robes together. 'I got shoes older than you kid, and tougher ones too.'

Hex him a voice inside Harry's head said. Hex the bastard.

'Bastard am I?' Sevagio said abruptly. 'Thank your lucky stars Castor won't let me do to you what I'd like to do.'

At this Harry cracked. He raised his wand in one swooping motion.

Before anything escaped his lips, there was a blood chilling scream from outside the pub.

Sevagio smacked Harry's wand away from him and nearly bulled him over walking towards the front door, his wand already in his hand.

'Stay behind me,' he ordered looking at Harry over his shoulder. 'No one leaves this bar.'

He put his ear up to the door and listened for a minute before swinging the door open and striding out, Harry following right on his heels.

Harry slammed into Sevagio's back. The Auror was standing just a few feet from the doorway, his wand now at his side. Harry side-stepped and walked forward, but he too, stopped, the image was too bewildering for him to do anything.

No more than twenty yards ahead of them were four figures, one lying flat in the mud, the rain pounding against the other three.

Harry peered through the rain and made out the body of Ernie MacMillian, lying on his back, blood flowing from his nose, clearly knocked out. Then he took in Hermione, her trademark bushy hair flying in the wind as two figures advanced on her.

'Your boyfriend ain't that tough, Mudblood,' one of them sneered, Harry immediately recognizing the hollow voice of Theodore Nott. The other figure was Blaise Zabini, his short black hair hung over his eyes.

'Get back!' Hermione shrilled pulling out her wand, her hand shaking violently.

'Ooooo,' Nott said in a sing-song voice. 'Granger's gonna hex us Blaise.'

'If she doesn't hex herself in the process,' the other boy said, stepping closer to Hermione.

Hermione looked frantic. Her whole body shook as the rain continued to pound away at her, her eyes wide and filled with terror.

'I'm warning you,' she said, her voice cracking.

'Put down the wand, Mudblood,' Nott said coldly, taking another step closer as Hermione tried to back up. 'You might enjoy our company if you do.'

Harry looked up at Sevagio who was gazing at the confrontation with mixed amusement and anticipation.

'Do something,' Harry said violently.

Sevagio continued to watch as Hermione was back into a wall of another building, the two Slytherin's closing the gap.

Without thinking, Harry shoved the Auror roughly aside and marched through the rain, pointing his wand directly at Nott's back. Before he could get a curse off, another figure came out from around the corner of the building Hermione leaned against, and in flash swung his fist and connected, hard against Nott's face. Nott let out a scream of pain and fell back, landing into the mud, his hands over his nose. In another instant, the figure lashed out his wand and pointed it directly over Zabini's heart, who stood frozen, as if he were a deer getting caught in the headlights.

Ron Weasley had never been more angry in his life. He never wanted to hurt anyone, but pointing his wand at the Slytherin he thought for a moment that he could kill him.

'Don't move you bastard,' Ron said viciously.

Zabini looked at Ron's wand hovering just over his heart then down at Nott who's nose was obviously broken. Ron's knuckles were caked in blood and looked swollen but at the moment Zabini figured Ron didn't even notice.

'You go near her again,' Ron said in a voice Harry had never heard before. It was chilling and ominous. 'If you ever go near her again, I'll kill you.'

Zabini, looking over his shoulder took in the sight of Harry and Sevagio standing outside the Hog's Head. Apparently noticing a Auror was now in the picture, the smugness and arrogance that had just evaporated in the Slytherin was now back.

'You won't do anything in front of an Auror, are you Weasley?' he said mockingly gesturing over his left shoulder.

Ron's eyes darted for a split second and saw Harry and Sevagio, but judging by the fury in his eyes, Harry guessed it didn't change his mind in what he was going to do. Harry guessed that Sevagio might have come to the same conclusion for he strode forward, his wand still in his hand.

'That's enough, Weasley,' he said in a commanding tone. 'Lower your wand.'

'You come near her again,' Ron growled, choosing to ignore Sevagio altogether, his wand still pointed at Zabini's chest.

'I said drop it!' the Auror shouted, his voice hard and cold.

Again, Ron acted as though he didn't hear him, the grip on his wand was so hard his knuckles began to throb and more blood poured through.

'I said now Weasley,' Sevagio said and this time he raised his wand and pointed it Ron.

Ron hesitated for a minute, his eyes darting from Sevagio to Zabini who was frozen in fear. Harry looked at his best friend for the first time with terror. Never had he seen Ron so angry, so terrifying. He looked as though he was a moment away from cursing the Slytherin to an inch of his life.

Before Ron could make up his mind, he felt a gentle hand fall on his shoulder. He didn't turn around, but he seemed to soften his grip as Hermione leaned forward and whispered something in his ear, her expression calm but worried.

Harry had no idea what Hermione had said but it appeared to snap Ron out it. He lowered his wand, his eyes still narrowed and looking at Zabini with intense hatred.

'Guess you're off the hook,' Sevagio said now pointing his wand at Zabini. 'I suggest you pick up that bloody mess of a friend you got there and get back to the castle. I will be informing the Headmistress along with your Head of House about this little incident, make so mistake. Now, beat it.'

The Slytherin didn't need to be told twice as he grabbed Nott roughly by the collar, stood him up and, swinging Nott's arm over his shoulder, dragged him away from the Auror as fast as he could.

No one said anything for a minute until Sevagio let out a sigh and tucked his wand back into his pocket.

'Well that was exciting,' he said in boring tone. 'And to think I wasn't going to have any amusement today.'

Harry looked at Sevagio then slowly walked forward to where Ron and Hermione stood. Hermione's hand was still on Ron's shoulder, but Ron himself was staring directly forward, his eyes clenched in anger. At that moment, the bruised form of the Head Boy lay forgotten in the mud.

'Ron,' Hermione said slowly.

Ron turned around, his expression of anger and fury still laced in his features as he tucked his wand back into his pocket. He stared at Hermione with the same anger and hate that he just had towards Zabini. Hermione instinctively jumped back frightened at Ron's demeanor.

'Serves you right,' Ron said callously. 'You should know better than to walk around by yourself.'

Hermione's mouth opened then closed, although the rain continued to pour, Harry noticed her eyes began to leak with tears.

'I wasn't alone,' she cried, 'I was with Ernie.'

Ron looked down at the Head Boy, still laying crumpled on the frozen mud as blood continued to pour from his face. Ron gave him a very pathetic look.

'Fat lot of good that did for you,' he said viciously, his words cutting through Hermione like a dull blade.

Before Hermione could answer, Ron turned on his heel and walked back towards the edge of the building, and disappeared around the corner, the wind making his robes billow behind him.

Hermione stood there, shivering as tears rolled down her face. Harry, finally gaining some sense as to what had just happened walked forward and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened at the contact but didn't back away. Harry felt utterly wretched.

'I'm sorry,' he said lamely.

Hermione sniffed but looked up at him. She tried to say something but instead threw her arms around him and cried.

Harry held her tightly, trying to ignore the pounding wind or Sevagio rolling his eyes at the sight until another terrifying screamed filled the entire village of Hogsmeade. Harry and Hermione broke apart instantly. The scream had came from the center of the village where Sevagio was already running to at break neck speed. Harry pulled out his wand and began to follow, Hermione doing the same.

'Stay with him!' Harry shouted motioning towards Ernie. Hermione looked at Harry, then back at the bloodied Head Boy until nodding.

'Hurry,' she cried.

Harry wheeled around and dashed after Sevagio. He passed several shop owners all looking nervously out there windows. A few third year Gryfindors had run into the Three Broomsticks just after walking out of it. Harry passed Neville Longbottom looking completely confused, his eyes full of terror.

'What's going on Harry? He shouted as Harry ran passed him, not listening.

Get to the scream, don't lose Sevagio.

Harry was nearly running along side Sevagio as the rain and howling wind hit them from the side as a Harry took in an image that made all the air in his lungs leave him as if he were just gut-punched.

Surrounded by dozens of scared figures, students, Aurors and a few shop owners was the crumpled form of Demetrius Castor. He lay flat on his back, his leg bent in a horrifying acute angle, as if it had been snapped in half. His long hair fell over his bruised and beaten face. Falling right beside him, Harry had to bite back the sensation of vomiting as he took in Castor's mangled state. Besides a long slash that swept from Castor's temple to his jaw bone, along with the numerous bruisings covering his face, Castor's right eye was so horrifyingly mutilated Harry couldn't tell if his eye was still intact. Castor was conscious though, his breathing sounding forced, as though his ribs had been shattered. He held his wand limply in his left hand, his right a barrage of needlepoint cuts covering his hand which was clenched in a fist.

'Everyone back up,' Sevagio ordered, shouting over the crowd. 'Aurors, escort the students back to the castle. The rest of you, clear off, IMMEDIATELY!'

There was a bustle of movement and yells as everyone dispersed. Harry still crotched at Castor's side.

'Professor Castor?' Harry said uncertainly, lightly shaking Castor's right arm. Castor continued breathing and let out a moan, then nothing.

'Professor Castor?' Harry said again, this time a little louder, shaking Castor's arm more roughly.

Nothing.

Before Harry could call out his name again, Castor's good eye shot open, then squinted against the rain falling down on him.

'Professor?' Harry said, now getting frightened.

Castor looked as though he didn't hear him for a second then his eyes met Harry's. To Harry's great astonishment, Castor smiled, blood tainted on his teeth and he coughed violently, emitting more blood that smacked against Harry's face. Still, Castor kept smiling, and if Harry hadn't been so close, he wouldn't have heard Castor chuckle.

'Sir,' Harry said.

Castor looked at him, his eye narrowing.

'Don't,' he wheezed as more blood trickled from his mouth. 'Call – me, that.'

'Are you alright?' Harry asked dumbly.

Castor looked around once more then back at Harry. Harry tried to overcome the nausea hitting him. Castor looked far worse than even Hagrid did when Harry had seen him when he returned from his mission back in his fifth year.

'Give – me your – hand, Potter,' he croaked.

Uncertainly, Harry outstretched his hand over Castor's mangled form. Taking a few wheezing breaths, Castor raised his right hand, grunting in pain and placed it over Harry's. Harry felt Castor pass him something from his blood soaked hand. Before Harry could look at what Castor had given him, Castor grabbed Harry roughly by the neck and pulled him down, only an inch away from his beaten face. Once again, Castor smiled.

'I – got it Potter,' he said in a low but deadly calm whisper. 'I – I – know where – it – is.'

Harry was at a complete lost.

'You know where what is?'

The grip of Castor's grasp tightened around Harry's neck. He was looking at him with a psychotic glaze in his eyes.

'I,' he stammered coughing up more blood, 'found it.'

Before Harry could ask again, Castor smiled and said in a faint whisper. 'The Holy Grail, I – found it.'

With that, his grip went slack, and he passed out, a blood trenched smile still on his beaten lips.

Harry looked down as Professor Castor fell back and closed his eyes. He let Castor's arm drop slowly to his side and stepped back, as Sevagio ordered a few remaining Aurors to send Castor to the hospital wing immediately. Stepping back, Harry unclenched his fist and peered down at the object Castor had given to him.

It was a piece of parchment, completely soaked in blooded and creased in the middle. Harry unfolded it. In faded black ink, almost unreadable from the thick layer of blood and pounding rain were the words,

New York City

A/N: Sorry it took a while, but this was a hard chapter to write. Please review, I need feedback. Cheers.