Master Windsey leaned back in his seat as the Hogwarts Express raced along the tracks. He snarled out the window, challenging the rain to beat down harder, turn into any storm harsher. Just so his charges would be that much safer.
The war this Dark Wizard who called himself Lord Voldemort was in full swing, of course the year after Jake Windsey had retired from his work as an Auror. He had been asked to step up as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and to protect the students on their journey to the school. Voldemort had no qualms against attacking children, as Windsey was all too aware.
"Almost there…" He growled under his breath as one of the dementors, a shadowy figure always in a cloak, assigned to the train flew past his window.
He flew out of his seat, cursing the whole while, as the train screeched to a stop.
Grimacing, and with a limp in his step, he strode out to the hall. A quick glance showed him students, their faces young, round, and full of fear poking their heads out to see why the train stopped.
"Git back in yer coaches," he shouted, "lock the doors and stay inside!"
They rushed to do as they were told, most even drawing the privacy curtains down as he stomped forward, his long and beat-up leather coat flapping out behind him. Every car he reached he'd shout at the children to get back in their rooms and stay as quiet as possible. The guards he passed were on their feet, and quickly stepped out of his way, many with reverent bows of their heads to the passing veteran.
Windsey felt that it took far too long for him to reach the engine, wand in hand.
The engineers were laying still on the floor, and one black robed figure stood calmly above them, casting spells about the cab to cause destruction.
The figure never knew what hit him after a quick wave and a green flash by Windsey. This was war. No one would care if he cast the death curse on a Death Eater.
Turning on heel to sprint to the rear of the train, he found himself laughing at the irony of the name. Death Eaters. Easy enough to kill, almost like they just want to eat a dose of death when they wake up in the morning.
Screams ahead of him spurred his feet to move faster. He couldn't reach the back of the train before coming across disaster in the Gryffindor dining car.
Dead bodies, children and adults, lay about the scarlet and golden flooring. Each with their eyes open, searching for salvation. Dark figures were leaving the car opposite Windsey, wands out. Half had a Patronus out to keep the Dementors at bay as the shadow people attempted to intervene.
But they were not the ones who caught the Aurors attention.
In the center of the death and destruction stood one man, bald and barefoot, with a face that more resembled a snake than a man.
The Dark Lord himself.
Most men would be pissing themselves as they faced a warlock oft described as death itself. One who wields magic in much the same as any battle-hardened Auror. But, most men weren't Aurors.
It was with giddy glee as Windsey began casting spells, though deep inside he knew that even if he won he would be racked with grief over the needless loss of childrens lives. Each spell he cast was defended and cast aside by his opponent with relative ease. Acts which he returned in kind when the Dark Lord cast anything offensive.
Like this they danced. Windsey tiptoeing around the bodies that the Lord gracefully glided over. Holes began to appear in the walls of the train car, and eventually a whole side gave way to the open elements beyond.
Dementors circled behind the Auror, much as the Death Eaters stayed behind their own master, showing no kindness to the dead they kicked out of their way, an act that threatened to only fuel Windseys' rage.
"Why continue this?" Voldemort asked once they had returned to their original positions. His voice was silken, one that carried the threat of relaxation and sleeping spells tied into it. "You indeed are a great warrior, Jake Windsey. You are pure of blood too, don't cast your life away like this."
Windseys' voice was ragged like gravel between cobblestone in comparison. "You talk like yer scared of me." He did not stop his barrage of attacks.
"Hmmm, maybe I once looked up to you. Your career is quite impressive." He wasn't even winded, words coming out as smoothly as if he just woke from slumber.
A laugh barked out from Windseys throat, he couldn't help it! "Looked up ta me did ya? Lies! If you had then ya would not have turned into this!" He used his free hand to point up and down, noting the overall appearance of his opponent. "Transfiguration to make yerself more intimidatin' ain't all that impressive."
The Dark Lord simply smiled as he continued to casually bat aside the elder mans attacks. Neither had been speaking their spells, and a few of the Death Eaters were watching in stunned, slack-jawed silence. Their eyes wide behind their pale masks.
Windsey changed tactics then, reaching deeper inside, deep into ancient magics. He was of the few who could access these powers, and he intently rarely did so.
Blue smoke darted out from his free hand, as green bolts continued from his wand. At the same time he strode forward, closing the distance between the two.
The tactic worked, and the smirk fell from the Dark Lords face as he moved his free hand in tandem to his wand to block the forthcoming blue mist, forming into a bird-like shape as it preceded both the death curse and the angry wizard.
Both spells were deflected. The left hook to the gut, however, was not.
Voldemort stumbled, Windsey grasped the wrist of the wand-holding arm, and shoved his own wand up under his opponents chin. There was no hesitation as he cast the final spell.
The hesitation came just after, when instead of a dead body falling to the ground, a scream came out behind him as a spirit, a twin to the Dark Lord, came spiraling from behind him.
Eyes wide, Windsey turned, wand at the ready as the spirit came to them and entered the body of the Dark Lord with such violence that the entire train car shook and his grip broke.
Struggling to catch his breath, and finally feeling true fear, Windsey watched as the Dark Lord stood and straightened, pure anger and irritation showing in his face.
"You… no…" Windsey whispered. He had only heard of warlocks finding a way to become truly immortal. They were called Horcuxes, and he had only come across one other who dared use them. He thought the dark wizard dead, only to later find him standing over the bodies of his family.
Wizards who used Horcruxes needed to be killed multiple times over, or their bodies needed to be destroyed in such a way that no part of the soul could enter. The whole process was a very tight-kept secret, for if it became common knowledge it was feared the world would end.
And Lord Voldemort, once Tom Riddle, had one, and it returned him to life with far too much speed. Meaning it had been close…. Or he had multiple.
"So, you have chosen death." The snake-like man whispered, yet all could hear his words clearly. However, instead of stepping forward to start casting he first tossed a small item, a locket, aside to one of his attendants. He started speaking in a hissing manner, Parseltounge, as he raised his wand.
Windsey raised his own in response, now focused on defense. As he could, he shot spells off to the side, targeting the Death Eaters holding off the Dementors. If even one could get through he might still win the fight. His blood was cold in his veins. He knew why the man could not be killed, for he had planned ahead, and ensured his soul would always survive. It would not surprise Windsey if he even had a plan in place for if his very body were also destroyed.
He also realized that this whole fight Voldemort had been toying with him. Playing with him. And now that he revealed his Ancient Magic trick, he had no more surprises left.
Each spell cast brought Voldemort closer to Windsey. Step by step. Until they stood as they had mere moments before, only now Windsey was ensnared and unable to move. He heard the door rattle and bang behind him as the guards attempted to break in. No doubt wards had been cast to keep it locked. Possibly even before he entered the car.
It was all a trap set for him. And he ran right into it.
"I do wish you could have joined us." Snakelike words whispered into his ear. "But, you will serve me all the same."
Bright green, and Windsey was falling, falling…. Falling….
He woke, his face a drooling mess on warm stone. He felt… younger somehow. His hip no longer ached, and the world was brighter than it had been mere moments ago. His brow furrowed as he thought hard. How did he get here?
"Jake?" A womans voice said behind him.
Windsey stood and turned. He stood on a beach, a boulder jutting from the sand beneath his feet. The sand went up a hill to a grassy knoll, where a large gazebo stood.
Friends and family he had lost to Dark Wizards and Death Eaters stood before him. His young son was bounding, arms lifted for a hug.
Tears clouded his vision as he bent and picked up his son. His heart sinking with knowing what had happened. That he could not warn anyone of the true danger Voldemort presented.
He began to carry his dear child up the hill when he heard sobs behind him, from the boulder on where he just stood.
Turning, he saw one of the students who was just alive, watching in horror as Windsey ran past his room to the back of the train to his doom. A moment later, another child appeared on the boulder, eyes open in shock and fear.
Turning to his son in his arms, Windsey smiled. "My boy, I think we have a job to do here."
"What is it, dadda?" The small boy asked.
Windsey nodded to the children on the rock, a third now showing. "More children will be coming, and they're going to be sad and confused. I think it's our job to help them."
He set his child down, who took off and hugged the first arrival. Jake Windsey, former Auror who went toe to toe with the Dark Lord himself, went to help his son ease the transition of life to death for those souls taken too soon from the mortal realm.
