I've published the book! Arthur's Witch: The Priestess is now available on Kindle and Smashwords, and you can download the sample for free, so it's gotta be worth a look! The blurb is below.

Morgan le Fay is a woman shrouded in infamy. The original wicked witch, she is responsible for bringing the golden age of Arthur to a catastrophic end. Though evil guile, ruthless ambition and petty jealousy, she stood against the light of Britain's first Christian King, her own brother. She watched an entire kingdom burn. A subhuman monster who consorted with demons and became the Devil's mistress.

Or a woman shrouded in mystery. The original fairy godmother, she is responsible for creating the golden age of Arthur from the ground to the ramparts of Camelot. Though passion, purity of spirit and selflessness, she stood against the religious perversion which invaded her homeland and corrupted her King, her own brother. She protected an entire kingdom as a mother would a child. A High Priestess whose name and legend have been besmirched and besmeared by lesser men.

Her own story. Now told.

A/N: This chapter's really choppy, and I'm not really happy with it. But I hope you enjoy it anyway – I might take it down in a bit and do a rewrite. Thanks for reading :)

Chapter Thirty Five

"What about…Rose?"

Lily considered. "Maybe."

"Or Holly? Violet? Ivy, what about Ivy?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Why do you want a plant name so much?"

James squeezed her a little closer. "Because then I can call you my two flowers."

"You're an idiot," his wife informed him fondly.

"But you love me."

"But I love you." She paused. "I have a question—what if it's a boy?"

"It isn't."

"Oh, I didn't know you'd invented an x-ray spell, love."

"I haven't, I just know. We're having a little girl."

Lily smiled softly and put a hand over her stomach. "If you say so."

When the phoenix tear around James' neck began to shake, both of them felt it. Lily checked for hers—in a bracelet—but it was still. "Dumbledore's being selective," she frowned.

"He wouldn't be—but Moody might need aurors."

Lily nodded, then tried not to show any anxiety. "Try not to risk your life too much."

He kissed her. "I'll be back soon. I love you."

"Love you too."

It was a slightly disconcerting feeling, apparating without any idea where he was apparating to. He still didn't know exactly how it worked, only that it had to be a property specific to the phoenix tear. It required you to lock on to the signal and follow it. When James had followed it, he found himself standing on a very rain- and windswept dock, and was instantly drenched and chilled to the bone.

As predicted, Moody was there, equally soaked but completely unphased by it. "Potter, good. Shacklebolt's late, and as for Black-"

"As for Black, he's having a bad fucking day, so this had better involve a lot of violence, because I really need to punch something!" Sirius, newly-disapparated, yelled from behind James.

Moody gave a grim chuckle. "I'd say we're in for a bit of violence, lad, if that's what you're after." He pointed upwards, and they all followed his gaze. Above them was a black, squat, imposing structure. In apparently the middle of the sea.

"Is that Azkaban?" James demanded, above the howling of the wind.

"That is it. I'll explain once we're inside, come on."

A few moments later, Moody, James and Sirius entered the sparse entrance hall, dripping. They found that Kingsley Shacklebolt had been smart, and had apparated out of the rain. Not that Azkaban was exactly dry, James thought, eying the interior of the prison with disgust. The walls were weeping moisture, some kind of green slime was growing from between the stone blocks of the walls. A flash of movement caught the corner of his eye, and when he looked, it was a rat scurrying across the floor.

"Well, this is grim," Sirius commented from behind him.

"You can say that again," James replied. "What are we doing here, Mad-Eye?"

Moody turned from greeting the other two aurors with Shacklebolt. "This afternoon, all the defensive magics protecting Azkaban disappeared."

"And you think there's going to be an attack," Sirius assumed.

"A break out attempt, yes. Maybe even You-Know-Who himself."

None of them voiced the question as to how Voldemort had learned of the magic protecting Azkaban, unwilling to think about who the traitor could be. "Are all the aurors here, Mad-Eye?" Kingsley asked.

"No. Don't want to put all the flobberworms in one basket. But there are more here than you see. Plus the prison guards."

James looked up, seeing six or seven blue-clad wizards patrolling around in familiar routes on the upper floors.

"Do we know who they're going to break out?" the only female auror present, Sandra Shore, asked. "Or are they going for a mass breakout?"

"We don't know. Our intelligence on this is nil. We don't know when they're coming, how many of them they're going to be-"

"I'm guessing a lot," Sirius said.

"Probably. Patrol in pairs, and if you're attacked then help won't be far away."

"Late again," was the Dark Lord's greeting. "This is becoming an unfortunate habit."

The woman bowed deeply. "She required some…subduing, my lord, I am sorry."

He waved his hand dismissively, lacking the patience or desire for apologies. "The wards on Azkaban are lowered."

"When do we attack?"

"Very soon." He gestured to where a hood and mask lay on a chair. "Put them on. Do not allow yourself to be identified."

"Of course not." She put both on, concealing her face and hair beneath the grinning skull. "I take it, now that she has deserted you, you do not intend to keep the promise you made to her?"

Voldemort smirked. "Why ever should I not? You would still kill Malfoy, would you not?"

The woman's fist curled around her wand. "Gladly."

"Well, you'll soon have your chance. Don't do it in Azkaban. Wait for my order."

There was the sound of an impatient sigh from under the woman's mask, not trying to be hidden. Voldemort's hand snapped out with the force and speed of a snake, grabbing her chin in his cold fingers, hard. "You will wait for my order, do you understand?"

The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. She nodded. "I understand, my lord."

As suddenly as he had seized her, he released her, thin lips turned upwards once more. "Good girl."

Sirius had joined one of the Azkaban guards on patrol, going up and around, up and around. He had been here for only about three minutes, and he already knew he never wanted to come back again. Definitely the most depressing place in the entire world. On their route, they happened to walk past Lucius Malfoy's cell. He got no small satisfaction from seeing how bloody awful the bastard looked—all the arrogance gone from his gaze, his white-blond hair hanging in ratty strands and his clothes tattered. Sirius wondered if knowing how much he'd been reduced would make Helena happy, or merely frustrated that her desire for revenge still hadn't been sated. In either case, he was glad she wasn't here.

He walked past Malfoy without saying a word.

Then the cold set in. The rain seemed to stop completely, the sound of the wind dying away, though from the windows it was possible to see that neither had ceased. But it was cold, and it was silent suddenly. Despite the fact that he had dried his clothes with magic, Sirius was suddenly very, very cold.

He pulled his wand out. "Dementors."

His companion laughed nervously. "Rumours aren't true, are they? You-Know-Who can't really be using-"

"Expecto Patronum!"

The wolf-shaped Patronus burst out of the end of Sirius' wand, going snarling and howling after the dementor that had just appeared at the end of the corridor. It quickly retreated, but more were coming. Cries of alarm rang out throughout the prison, from both prisoner and auror alike, and Azkaban was suddenly lit by flickering silver light and patronuses raced all over the place.

Somewhere in the midst of the repelling of dementors, the first Death Eater melted out of the dark. One auror was down before anyone noticed. Two, and people started to. When exactly the dementors were replaced with their human allies, Sirius couldn't really pinpoint. But suddenly he was fighting against a Death Eater who was quite intent on killing him. But while Sirius was defending himself, the other Death Eaters were blowing the doors off cells, releasing prisoners by the score.

One such Death Eater—a woman—blasted open the cell of Lucius Malfoy, dragging him out by his hair. She was forced to let go of him when Sandra Shore charged towards her. Sandy was a talented witch, and a seasoned auror, but she was being far outclassed by her opponent. The masked woman seemed to be dancing around every spell Sandy shot at her, while her own never failed to miss—either impacting Sandy or being narrowly dodged by her. The Death Eater also increasing the potency of her spells, ramping up to Entrail Expelling Curses and Blood Boiling spells, to finally Unforgivables. When the Cruciatus Curse came out, Sandy had to drop to the ground and scream in pain, her limbs spasming. The Death Eater took advantage of this to kick her wand from her hand.

Once stood over Sandy, she lifted her wand. Sandy had little time to recover; as soon as the light of lucidity had come back into her gaze, the Death Eater lifted her wand again.

"Avada Kedavra!"

There was a flash of green light, and a high, hideous cackling.

The cackling did not go uninterrupted for long—shortly afterwards, the Death Eater found herself on the receiving end of spells from every auror in Azkaban. She didn't stop laughing though. None of the other Death Eaters seemed to think it was that funny; the newly-released Lucius Malfoy among them. He grabbed whoever it was by the arm, pulling her out of the way of a bodybind curse, and jumped out of the hole in the wall with her. Below was only the storm-tossed sea—yet when they looked, there was no sign of them.

There was a shocked silence in the Death Eaters' wake, from prisoner and auror alike. It had been so fast. A couple of explosions, a few curses, and they were gone as soon as they'd arrived. The final dementors were being chased across the sea now, and order was restored to Azkaban. Time now for triage to begin.

James work up slowly, groggily, but at least he woke up. The rocks hadn't done much permanent damage to his head, thankfully. When Sirius helped him up though, he immediately crumpled again, with a groan of pain. "Think my leg's broken."

Sirius conjured splints and bound Prongs' leg so that at least he could stand, and walk with help.

"I saw Sandra get hit," James said. "Is she-?"

Sirius shook his head. "Dead."

As soon as they arrived in safety, the female Death Eater snatched her arm from Malfoy's grip, glaring. "I did not ask for your assistance, coward!"

"They would have killed you."

She threw back her head and laughed again, shrilly. "They could never have killed me."

"Who are you?" Malfoy demanded, peering closer at her mask as though he would see right through it.

The woman scoffed. "You do not recognise me? You are a fool."

"Indeed he is," Voldemort's voice came from behind them.

Malfoy dropped to one kneww. "My lord, I-"

"- have caused me considerable exertion and have cost me valuable time," Voldemort said silkily. "Along with your fellow convicts," he snickered, causing an echo from the others to ripple arond the room. "Did you tell them anything?"

"My lord, I would never betray you."

"You would for the right price, I am well-aware. Slippery little Lucius…" Leaving Malfoy cowering on the floor, he addressed the woman. "What trouble?"

"Some. The Ministry's finest were dispatched en masse," she smirked. "We managed. I killed one."

"Congratulations."

She bowed. "My lord."

"I believe there is somewhere you need to be," he told her. "Unless you wish to take your pleasure now."

The woman looked down at Malfoy, her fingers tightening around her wand. It was with great difficulty she restrained herself. Choking down the killing curse on her lips, she shook her head. "As you say, my lord. I have somewhere I must be."

When he appeared in the living room, it was to see Helena asleep on the sofa, as if she hadn't been at all worried for his safety at all. He could wake her up, yell at her a bit more, storm out and not talk to her for a few days. Or he could admit the fact that he felt shell-shocked and weary, and very much in need of simple comfort. He moved a bit closer, still unsure what he was going to do, when she stirred, then shot up like she'd had a nightmare, staring at him. Without a word, she reached for him, relief etched on her features.

"Who?" she whispered.

He frowned. "How-"

"Your face."

He sighed. "Sandy. Sandra Shore. It's a real war now, Hellfire."

Seemed stupid, to say it aloud, but it was how he felt. He'd talked to Sandy, liked her, seen photos of her kids and her husband, made her cups of coffee occasionally. And now she was dead. Maybe that was how war worked. It wasn't real until it was personal. It had been…fun, in a way, just another challenge, another game of cat and mouse to play. Except before now he'd always been the cat.

"Is anyone else-?"

"No. Few are hurt. James' leg was broken, but it's fixed now."

"And you?" she asked, a tremour just quivering her voice.

"Fine. Everything seemed to miss me."

"Thank God," she uttered under her breath, pulling back to kiss him. She managed a bit of a smile. "You look like hell, Padfoot.

"Right back at you."

It wasn't an exaggeration either—there were big grey circles around her eyes, purple shading that made the dark blue look withdrawn and sunken. There were tiny lines of care all around her forehead and mouth. He imagined he looked much the same. He certainly felt completely exhausted.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go to bed."

"But I have to tell you something-"

He put a finger to her lips. "I know what you were going to tell me. And it's okay."

"But-"

"Really, Hellfire. Now can we just go to bed? Please?"

She twisted her mouth, but nodded. "Of course."

"I have a problem," Helena told Lily the next day, as soon as they had a moment alone. She did a double check, but the locker room was free from all healers apart from the two of them. Finding no one else, she pulled her wand out and pointed it at the door. "Muffaliato."

Lily was frowning when she turned back to her. "What's up?"

"Octavia. You know the attack on Azkaban last night-"

"Yeah, James went."

"I was summoned to that attack."

"Summoned? He knows where you live?" Lily asked in alarm.

"Well, yes, but that's not how he summoned me."

Lily's eyes darted to Helena's green-clad left arm. "Dark Mark?"

Helena nodded. "It's like a…burning, and a compulsion to drop everything and just apparate to him."

"And you resisted that compulsion, yes?" Lily asked suspiciously.

The brunette nodded. "Barely. As it was, even the effort of that knocked me out. Sirius thought I'd fallen asleep when he got back."

"Did you correct him?" Lily asked tightly.

"No. I got closer than I have before, but he said he knew what I was going to tell him and asked me not to say any more. He also…proposed," she added guiltily.

Lily's jaw dropped. "Bloody hell!"

"I know."

"Talk about bad timing…"

"I know."

Lily looked at her hand. "I take it from the lack of ring you said no?"

"I said yes. And then my inner Lily started making me feel horribly guilty and I gave him the ring back. Then I told him—or started to—but then he had to go. He's still got the ring. Not sure he's going to want to give it back to me now."

She must have looked as utterly downcast as she felt, since Lily put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "It'll be okay, Helena. Somehow."

"How?" Helena asked, wiping her eyes. "He's not going to want to come near me with a ten foot broomstick, Lily."

As she couldn't argue with that, Lily changed the subject. "Back on topic—how is Octavia a problem?"

"Well, she going to know I didn't turn up, isn't she?"

"Then she'll probably assume You-Know-Who gave you something else to do. And to be on the safe side, just don't be alone with her. She's not going to attack you in a ward full of people, is she?"

The Auror Office was a sombre place this morning. The emptiness of one tiny cubicle was glaring, and despite the fact that Sandy had hardly been a loud, chatty woman, it seemed overly quiet too.

Moody's reaction to the loss of one of his own had been pretty standard—he'd roared around the place like an angry lion, and then yelled at them all to find out who the Death Eater responsible was. No one had any idea though. There were few female Death Eaters, and even fewer whose names they knew. Bellatrix was one, but it definitely had not been her. There was something about that voice… Recalling it made Sirius' skin crawl. It was almost like finding there was a female Voldemort running around out there. To murder—execute—someone in cold blood like that was unimaginable. To enjoy it was even worse.

But none of them had any idea where to start. There was no list of Death Eaters, just potential names and ideas, which were mostly based on which pureblood Slytherin witches were most-closely connected with known Death Eaters. So, accordingly, they all worked on Moody's assignment. Some drew up names, others looked at possible hiding places and so on.

At what point Sirius discovered he had Helena's engagement ring in his pocket, he wasn't sure. But once he had, he kept pulling it out and frowning at it. Eventually James caught him at it, and at lunch asked him about it.

"You still haven't asked her then?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, I did. But she gave it back to me and basically told me she'd volunteered to spy for Dumbledore. On Voldemort."

"She what?"

"Yeah."

"But she can't have-"

"Apparently she can. After what happened it didn't—doesn't—really matter. She told me, that was the important thing."

"So why didn't you give it back to her?"

Sirius shook his head. "Dunno. Something…stopped me."

A/N: Review please!