Authors Notes

Greetings all! I have another chapter for you, this time I'm introducing some more POV's and we get a little insight into some of the other characters. Once again I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited. I cannot believe there are over 700 of you following this story and it really means a lot.

As always please leave a review if you liked something and if you didn't, then tell me what was wrong so I can work on it. I love reading your thoughts on the story, it really makes it worth it.

Reviews

Griffin Blackwood - I'm glad you're still enjoying it! Yes Oliver and the other Ravenclaw's in Harry's year will start to crop up more as the story progresses, not necessarily in good or bad ways, but its inevitable that personalities will clash. I have read a few good stories with Gemma in as well, I may even drop her in as a reference ... we will see!

SilverBladeStar - Harry is a nervous 12 year old boy who was hearing voices about killing, while logically it makes sense he should share that immediately, he is not running on logic at this point. He does share the information later on but he doesn't want to be blamed or seen as evil and at 12 years old, I think I would have hidden something like this as well. As for following canon, it's true I have so far kept fairly close to the original story however the story will begin to split from canon much more now that we are in the middle years.

littleemberlou - I'm glad you are enjoying it! I love it when readers review and let me know what they are liking so it's really a joy to read your comments, thank you! 'Flirt-wick' is a great one! I will have to remember that! I hope Year 3 doesn't disappoint!

Chapter 22

The sound of the bell above the door at the front of the store pulled Harry from his focus on the crystal orb he was examining, it was part of a set Castamir had bought, and he had tasked Harry with identifying the magic each item was enchanted with. The previous items had all been Divination items of some kind, but all with hexes or curses attached; a Tarot deck that foretold the readers death at the hands of their closest friends, knuckle bones that caused tremors in the user's own hands until they couldn't grip anything and now a crystal orb that seemed to affect the user's mind. Harry thought it likely induced nightmares or something along those lines, the runes for sleep and illusions were faint but repetitive.

"Oi! Castamir, get your arse out here before I start looking for illegal items." The bellow was easily recognisable as Alastor Moody's and Harry placed the crystal ball back in its case before he walked around and through the doorway that led to the front of the building. As he rounded the corner and leant against the counter, Alastor turned and pointed but deflated when he saw that it was Harry.

"Hello Alastor, how are you?" He greeted with a grin as the surly Auror grunted and stepped up to the counter to join him.

"Potter, I forgot you were working for Leventis. Where is he?" The Auror's magical eye whirled and pointed upstairs and then to the front door. If Harry didn't know him, he might think the grizzled Auror was nervous.

"He popped to Gringotts, he left a while ago so he should be back soon. Is it anything I can help with? Castamir has been letting me identify some of the artefacts people sell to him, I'm getting pretty good." Harry flicked his wand at a small silver bell in a glass case on the counter and it slid along the worn wood until it stopped between them. "Like this one, Mrs River brought it in, it's enchanted to send anyone who hears it into a deep sleep. I think it was made by her grandfather, I'm not sure, but originally it was just to help you sleep except someone got hold of it and twisted the magic. It's pretty potent now, Mrs River said it sent her and her neighbours to sleep when it fell off the mantlepiece."

"That's very good lad, you've picked this up quick. A little birdie even told me you managed to surprise McGonagall." Moody praised as his eye whipped back to the front of the shop and he raised his voice. "Maybe you can replace that useless sod Leventis soon, eh?"

"Now that's hurtful Alastor. I've still got a few tricks I need to teach the boy before he's ready for that." The bell above the door didn't ring as Castamir opened it and walked in, but that didn't surprise Harry. The whole building was enchanted by Castamir, he doubted the floorboards creaked without his knowledge.

"Hmph. I need a word, in private." Alastor didn't look at Harry, but he clearly meant without him there.

"Alright. Harry can you keep watch out front? Alastor and I will just be in the workshop." Castamir led the Auror through the doorway and as they stepped through, a web of runes lit up across the threshold of the room. Harry couldn't hear what they were saying. He couldn't even see what was going on in the room as the ward blocked almost all magic from crossing it. So he settled in and leaned against the counter, his curiosity was strong but he respected Castamir too much to snoop. Besides which, he doubted he could put a dent in the man's wards, and he definitely couldn't without the artificer noticing let alone Moody's enchanted eye.

"Alright what's going on then Alastor?" Castamir demanded as the Auror stomped across to lean against the wall opposite the door.

"I need you to do me a favour Leventis. You aren't going to like it." Moody's enchanted eye spun in its socket, not stopping in any direction for long before it whirled around to check somewhere else.

"I very rarely like the favours you ask of me Alastor, how bad could this one be?"

"I need you to come with me to Azkaban. Tonight." It was a testament to how well Castamir knew Alastor Moody that he didn't immediately draw his wand to flee an arrest attempt of some kind.

"You would have brought more Aurors with you if this was some misguided arrest attempt, so what do you need my help with Alastor?"

"I need you to examine a cell. This isn't an official visit, me and Savage have been given a twenty-four hour lead before the Prophet reports it." Moody sighed and rubbed a scarred hand across his face. "There's been an escape. It's Black."

"Hell's bells man." Castamir sagged as he sat down on a stool, the colour draining from his face as he absorbed the news. "How? And why now? Why wait nearly thirteen years to escape?"

"All good questions. That's why I want you to come with me to inspect his cell. He's been out for at least twelve hours, the Dementors didn't notice anything, and the warden's portkeys are all accounted for. Fudge wants it handled quietly if possible, so we've got some leeway. Dumbledore is at the ICW conference and won't be back for a week, after him you're the best expert at Dark Magic I know." Moody leaned across the workbench and shot a look with his good eye towards the door. "There's something else. The guards reported that he was muttering things in his sleep the past few weeks. Said he kept repeating the same thing over and over. He's at Hogwarts."

"You think he's after Harry?" Castamir straightened and shook his head as the Auror shrugged. "Well blast waiting until tonight then. Evoco Veloxum."

A shimmering grey eagle made of lines of dull light sprang from the tip of Castamir's wand and hovered in the air in front of him, wings flapping silently as it's white eyes studied him intently.

"Filius come collect Harry from the shop and escort him home. I will meet you at Moody's tonight." The eagle nodded as Castamir finished reciting the message and then flew up, disappearing through the ceiling as it journeyed to its target faster than any owl could fly.

"You want to leave him here alone? With Black on the loose?" Moody asked as Castamir searched one of the workbench draws, pocketing a pouch of glittering dust and a handful of clear glass beads before he turned to the doorway and frowned.

"He'll be safe here. Black won't be able to get through the building's protections." Castamir paused for a moment as he tilted his head. "Well he won't get through before Filius gets here anyway, and not without making quite a spectacle."

Castamir walked through the wards that hung across the doorway without hesitation and they dissipated moments after as he grabbed a long overcoat from behind the front counter and patted Harry on the shoulder as the boy turned a page in his book.

"Harry, me and Alastor need to head out for a quick errand. I'll be shutting the shop early and Filius should be along shortly to collect you. Oh and I doubt I'll be opening for the rest of the week so spend it revising your Runic patterns and I'll have a little challenge for you next week." Castamir smiled at the young boy who he had grown so fond of over the previous few years.

"Okay Castamir, I'll just wait here for Professor Flitwick then. See you later Alastor!" Harry shouted as the Auror opened the front door and waved back at the boy.

"Be good Harry, and don't open the door for anyone but Filius." Castamir instructed as he ran his thumb across a symbol roughly carved into the doorframe, activating the more dangerous enchantments that protected the building.

"Right, we only have an hour before we have to report our findings to Amelia so do whatever you need to do and do it quickly." Alastor grunted as he inserted a heavy iron key into a seemingly innocuous stone block next to the cell. The key sunk into the stone without resistance and a quick turn caused the cell door to melt into a puddle of viscous grey metal on the ground, leaving the cell open to be examined.

"I'll stay by the stairs in case any more of those bloody demons tries to interfere." Auror Savage spat to the side and turned to face the dimly lit stairs that spiralled up the centre of the ancient prison tower, his wand gripped tightly in his hand.

Castamir stepped up to the doorway of the cell but didn't step inside. Instead, he reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small leather pouch filled with glittering powder, he tipped a small amount into his palm and tossed it into the cell. The powder was actually made of two different materials; tiny metal shavings and ground salt crystals mixed together.

"The Unspeakables have already tried iron and salt, there were no traces." Moody muttered from the other side of the cell as he peered into the gloomy cell with his good eye.

"The Unspeakables tried cheap shavings and table salt. I am using cold iron and Egyptian embalming salt; they are very different things Alastor." Castamir corrected with his usual air of casual arrogance as the powder hung in the air. There was no breeze or breath to move the lingering power, and yet it did move. A portion of darker material moved to the corner of the room and settled into the outline of a hunched figure while a lighter part of the powder drifted to the far wall and stuck to the old stone in a spiralling shape.

Castamir seemed surprised by the symbol on the wall but not the outline that lingered in the corner, he tucked the pouch back into his pocket and withdrew the handful of clear crystal beads he had also brought with him. He didn't throw these into the room but held them clenched in his hand as he stepped through the doorway. The already frigid cold that permeated the island intensified as he stepped into the cell, every breath formed icy crystals in his mouth as he stepped deeper into the room.

"Auror Savage, I should warn you the Dementors will not like what I am going to do next. You may have to dissuade them from joining us up here." Castamir called back into the hallway as he opened his hand and let the crystal beads fall to the floor. There was no response beyond a muffled curse from the Auror as the beads collided with the floor with an unnaturally heavy thud. The once transparent and clean beads were no speckled with crimson as blood dripped from Castamir's open hand. The now scarlet beads rolled slowly across the stone slabs leaving faint stains behind them until they all came to a stop by the far wall, their winding path leaving a bloody trail that formed a distorted symbol.

"Fucking hell - Expecto Patronum! Tell your mate to hurry up Alastor, the guards are pissed." Savage shouted from the stairway as a shining wolf dashed towards the approaching shadows, the white light struggling to repel the encroaching darkness the Dementors carried with them.

"Right Leventis, we need to move. Get out of there." Alastor ordered as he drew his wand and stepped up to the doorway.

"If you want to leave, why don't we use the back door?" Castamir asked as he kept his eyes on the symbol the salt had formed on the wall, stepping closer to it and running a hand across it with a dark grin.

"Back door? What are you on about man?"

"Black made a door. Watch." Castamir pressed his still bleeding palm into the centre of the wall and grunted in pain as the flow of blood quickened, rivulets flowing in a spiral out from the centre until they reached the edges of the wall and stopped. Castamir stumbled back with a curse, his hand hanging by his side, as the wall crumbled. Enchanted stone that had stood for half a millennium crumbled and collapsed like wet sand until a gaping hole had formed in the wall, harsh winds ripped through the opening and into the cell as the elements were allowed entry into the tower once again.

"Merlin's beard." Alastor mumbled as he conjured a barrier to stop the howling gale that was trying to tear away more of the cell wall.

"That's how Black got out. He's a lunatic. He must have spent years preparing for that. Pouring his blood, his soul into that wall until he could overpower the tower's magic." The tower shuddered. Dust fell from the ceiling as the stone monolith groaned like a wounded beast before the broken wall reformed, stone blocks unbroke, mortar resealed as the ancient magic ripped control back and sealed the wound. "Years of pain, of blood and tears all for a minute's control of six feet of stone."

"Shit. Can we do anything to stop other prisoners trying the same thing?" Alastor asked as Savage backstepped closer to the cell with his wand still pointed at the now silent stairwell.

"Whatever the fuck that was, it seems to have distracted the Dementors. Which reminds me. What the fuck was that?" Savage coughed into his elbow as he eyed the dishevelled and bleeding enchanter still stood in the cell.

"It's not something you can stop, not unless you want to restrain the prisoners from moving while they're here. But it's also not something you should worry about anyone else doing." Castamir stepped out of the cell and into the hallway, sagging to lean against the wall once he was free of the still freezing cell. He knew why the cell was so much colder than the rest of the prison now; the tower was angry that Black had wrested control of the tiny patch of stone from it's enchantments, the cold was a physical manifestation of Azkaban's injury. "What Black did shouldn't be possible. He imbued that stone with so much of himself that he was able to overcome Azkaban's own enchantments. There was an old monk that did something similar with a tree in Germany a few centuries ago, he managed to force enough of himself into the tree that he was able to make it move. No magic, no wand, no spell needed. He spent so long sharing himself with the tree, putting himself into it, that it was like moving his own body. And then he died."

"What?" Savage asked as he cast another glance towards the stairs.

"The monk had sacrificed so much of himself. His lifeforce, his soul, whatever you want to call it. He imparted so much of it into the tree that he died when he was finished. Not of anything special, no disease or curse. He just … ran out of himself, reached the end. And that was with an ordinary tree, no magical protections on it. Black did the same thing with enchanted stone, he used some runes to make it a bit more sophisticated than just meditating next to it, but he still had to sacrifice a lot of himself to do it. If he survived the climb down and the swim back to Britain … well he won't live to be an old man and he'll know it." Castamir stared at the fixed wall as he explained.

"Wait, what about you? You just did the same thing, did you give up some life or whatever as well?" Alastor asked gruffly as he reached down to help the enchanter to his feet.

"Do I look like an idiot? No, I used a bit of blood to activate the runes Black carved. I just piggybacked his sacrifice; I'll be tired for a day, but I'll be fine. Give it a few weeks and you can reuse that cell, but for now its best if it stays empty." Castamir brushed some of the dust from his jacket and followed Savage as he led the way down the tower steps.

"What about Black? You said this monk died, how long do you think Black has? With any luck maybe he'll keel over before he gets to civilisation." Savage chuckled darkly at Moody's grim query.

"It's not an exact science Alastor. Black is powerful and that runic circle was clever. He might have given up a few years or a few decades, it's impossible to know for sure. He certainly won't be going anywhere quickly for a few weeks though."

"We'll try to pick his trail up on the coast then. With any luck we can give Amelia some good news when we report to her." Savage nodded at the suggestion and surprisingly, so did Castamir.

"I'll join you. If Black can perform esoteric magic like that, well you might need an expert to track him."

"Come on then, lets get off this damned island."

"So Flitwick reckons Black's after you then?" Terry summarised bluntly as Harry leaned back in his chair outside of Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, he had spent the past ten minutes explaining everything he knew about the escaped dark wizard, which wasn't all that much.

"Auntie has avoided talking about it around me, but I know it's caused a big ruckus at the Ministry. Nobody has ever escaped from Azkaban before and Black was at the very top of the tower. I mean look around, have you ever seen the Alley like this before?" Susan gestured at the normally bustling Alley. While the shops were almost all still open, there were drastically fewer customers and most would hurry from their destinations, throwing fearful glances around as they rushed to the Leaky Cauldron or just apparating away as soon as they reached the top of the Alley.

"Ha-have you all had your permission slips signed?" Neville asked in a weak attempt to steer the conversation onto brighter topics, but Harry smiled gratefully in the boy's direction and nodded.

"Yeah, my aunt signed it yesterday after I promised to send her some Honeyduke's chocolate, apparently my mum used to send it to her for Christmas and her birthday."

"Oh I love Honeyduke's! Auntie Amelia used to bring me some of their Ice Mice and Fudge Sludge whenever she visited Hogsmeade, oh I can't wait to see it myself." Susan eyed Harry's Fudge Sundae as she expounded on the virtues of Honeyduke's Fudge Sludge, which did sound good despite the name, and Harry grinned as he sighed in mock annoyance before he pushed the remainder of the Sundae across the table to her. Her own Banana and Chocolate frozen delight was long gone and Harry honestly couldn't finish his large portion anyway, Florean was always overly generous with his servings despite his, admittedly weak, protests. "Oh if you insist Harry."

"Oi what about me?" Terry grumbled as Susan began demolishing the remaining ice cream with single-minded focus.

"I'll buy you a chocolate frog on the train mate, besides we still need to go and pick up our books. You still want to come with Nev or are you meeting Hannah with Susan?" Harry asked as he stood and pushed in his chair.

"Oh no I need to buy my books too so I'll come with you, besides that Auror scares me." Neville shot a furtive look at the man who had escorted Susan during their visit to the Alley. He had introduced himself as Auror Savage and certainly lived up to the name with his unkempt beard, wrinkled shirt and fierce gaze. Harry trusted him though, Alastor had mentioned him a few times and seemed to hold him in high esteem and the fact he hadn't made a fuss about meeting Harry was always a good sign.

"Alright well we will see you next week then I guess Susie?" Harry wasn't surprised when the redhead leapt from her seat and grabbed him in a tight hug, but he was shocked when she pressed her warm lips to his cheek in a brief kiss.

"Thanks for the ice cream, bye boys!" Susan chirped as she walked away with her Auror guard trailing a step behind, though Harry did absently notice the smirk on the man's face as he stood stunned.

"Come on Romeo, we still need to get our books." Terry grabbed Harry by the shoulder and turned him in the direction of Obscurus Books, after visiting with Harry previously Terry had decided to buy his schoolbooks from the less crowded book shop, mainly as they sold second-hand books at a fraction of the price that Flourish & Blotts did which left Terry a tidy profit from the allowance his father had given him for the visit.

If the main thoroughfare of the Alley was sparsely populated, then Obscurus Books and the surrounding shops were positively deserted. Perhaps due to its close proximity to the entrance to Knockturn Alley, which Harry had heard some horror stories about, or because it was quite far from the sense of security that Gringotts exuded. They passed at least four Aurors on their walk down the Alley but as they neared the entrance to Knockturn Alley the street seemed to be empty, though Harry suspected there were Aurors hidden nearby. Either way, Harry, Neville and Terry were the only customers as they perused the teetering stacks of books and the densely packed shelves.

"So all three of us need the Monster Book of Monsters, right?" Terry asked as he leaned over the makeshift pen that held a dozen of the slumbering tomes. Harry had seen them the last time he had visited and had given the enclosure a wide berth after the owner threw a chunk of meat in, the frenzy that followed had been an experience he would never forget.

"No just two, Hagrid sent me a copy for my birthday. Nearly gave Aunt Petunia a heart attack when she tried to give it a read." Harry had spent several minutes pondering the tome after he had pinned it down under his cane, but in the end the key had been hidden in Hagrid's birthday card. A quick stroke of the spine and the book had fallen open, the enchantment was a clever, if risky, way to try and promote the Scamander school of thought about magical creatures; even the dangerous ones can be befriended if you treat them with kindness. "Wingardium Leviosa."

Harry levitated two of the snoring books up and out of the enclosure and set them down in a nervous Neville's surprisingly steady arms.

"Somnus. There that should keep them asleep until you get home, and you can just stroke the spine to calm them down." Harry had been half-tempted to leave out that last bit of advice but he didn't think Neville's gran would see the humour in a rabid book.

"Cheers mate, okay so we've got Intermediate Transfiguration, Hagrid's book, Unfogging the Future … we just need The Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts?" Terry read aloud from the book list he had brought with him. "Blimey it's not a very original name is it?"

"Does it say which edition?" The proprietor, a tall man Harry had only briefly spoken to on his first visit, spoke up for the first time since they had entered. He was sat on his usual stool near the front of the shop and looked up from his book to point to a shelf behind Neville. "The only copies of Arsenius Jigger's defensive work we have are some first edition's. I should warn you, they are … frowned upon by the Ministry though not explicitly illegal."

"Wicked." Terry whispered as he pulled down three copies of the book before he stopped and put one back as he glanced in Harry's direction. "Er do you have any in Braille?"

"Three shelves down and six books to the right." Came the almost instant reply, although the owner had turned back to his own book and continued his reading by this point.

"Ah…thanks." Terry awkwardly called back in a false whisper as he collected the Braille copy for Harry.

It turned out that, despite being first edition's, the alternative copies of their defence book's were not all that expensive. They ended up paying as much for the second-hand copies as they would have for new one's in Flourish & Blotts but a quick comparison as they passed the larger book shop told Harry that their first editions were much thicker than the books Flourish & Blotts stocked, so he still considered it a good deal.

Albus Dumbledore was many things. Chief Warlock. Supreme Mugwump. Transfiguration Master. Defeater of Grindelwald. Apprentice to the Immortal Alchemist. But his favourite mantle was the one he found himself spending less and less time wearing. At heart, he was a teacher. While he still taught some NEWT level classes, his other responsibilities took up more and more of his time and attention. He had given up almost all of the classes he used to teach, passing them over to Minerva McGonagall who handled the additional work admirably. His least favourite mantle was one he had hoped to give up thirteen years ago, but alas fate conspired against him and now he was once again thrust into the role of a warrior.

There were very few Black's left alive after the Blood War, and of those few most were in Azkaban. He had visited the other three surviving members of the once great Black family already and learned little of use. Arcturus was old and his spirit was as broken as his body, the loss of his wife and family and a severe case of Dragon Pox had all but crippled him. He still needed watching, but Dumbledore doubted Sirius would turn to him for aid anyway. Too much bad blood had been spilt between Sirius and his family. Narcissa Malfoy would have little to do with Sirius either and Andromeda hated the man fiercely so he would find no help with them either.

The last surviving member of the Black clan was much harder to locate. Hiding away in Europe, Cassiopeia had escaped judgement and punishment after the Grindelwald's war thanks to the Black name and hefty donations to the ICW. However, she was still unwelcome in Britain and never dared return. It took Albus two days to find her home, an unnamed island off the coast of southern France where she lived in a chalet. It was hidden with powerful enchantments and several deadly wards, a web of magic that promised pain and death to any who dared cross it.

Albus rent a hole in the dense weave of enchantments with all the effort of a man walking through a spider's web. No subtlety or stealth, not with this witch. A show of force was required when dealing with Cassiopeia Black.

CRACK

"I suppose I should have expected you to turn up one of these days Albus." Cassiopeia was in her eighties but looked much the same as she had when he last saw her almost fifty tears earlier, her hair had greyed and a few lines had appeared on her regal face, but she was still a beauty. "Are you here to arrest me, Albus?" She had her wand in hand but had made no move to attack or flee so far.

"No, Miss Black. As far as the ICW are concerned, you are a free woman and have been for four decades or so." He replied calmly even as the Elder Wand sent a thrill of pleasure up his arm. It had been some time since he had flexed his power in such a way and the wand approved immensely, he had spent many years trying to lessen its bloodthirsty appetite but had yet to succeed.

"Then why have you sought me out?" Her words were still polite, but the tone had changed. Her voice was cold but Albus could see barely restrained madness in her eyes. Clearly four decades of solitude had not helped her already capricious nature.

"Your great-nephew, Sirius. He has escaped Azkaban and I wish to find him before any harm is done."

"To him or by him?" The Black witch asked with a cackle.

"Both."

Cassiopeia watched him curiously for several moments as the wind picked up and tugged at his beard, thankfully he had tucked it into his belt in anticipation of the trip to the island.

"You are the first visitor I have had in over thirty years Albus. Arcturus never forgave me for siding with Gellert, I'm fairly certain he told the rest of the family I was dead." For a moment Albus relaxed, this was a very different witch to the one who had carved a bloody path across Europe with Gellert.

That momentary lapse almost cost him his head as he barely deflected the curse aimed at his throat from the Black witch as she backed away with a fierce scowl.

"Forty years! You cost me my family Dumbledore, my life! I always left you alone for him, he made me promise not to harm you. But I don't think he will care anymore." Cassiopeia let loose an anguished scream as she hurled curses and hexes across the sand at him.

When they first crossed wands during the war, Albus had struggled with the almost inhuman speed she could move at and the breadth of her knowledge of obscure curses. Forty years ago she had been one of the few mages he had thought could defeat him besides Gellert. That was no longer the case. While she had spent her time cooped up in an idyllic prison, Albus had fought another war. He might have slowed down a touch once he crossed the century mark, but his skill had only grown.

With a flick of his wand, a wall of sand erupted to swallow the barrage of curses aimed his way. By all rights the curses should have been barely slowed by the barrier, but imbued as it was with the old mage's will it proved to be an impenetrable bulwark. As Cassiopeia paused to regain her breath, he flicked the remnants of his shield aside and twirled his wand in a looping motion. Flecks of light gathered at his wandtip and drifted to float above him until a dozen motes of bright light hung in the air a heartbeat later.

Evidently Gellert shared this particular spell with his protégé as she paled and summoned a formidable shield around herself. It would do her little good as Albus sighed and thrust his wand at the witch, sending the innocent looking stars rocketing across the beach one after another. He closed his eyes just in time to avoid the blinding light that accompanied each collision as the transfigured light erupted with thunderous impact against Cassiopeia's shield. When he and Gellert had first created that spell he had only managed to create one instance of transfigured light, but even that took all of his focus and energy at the time. Nearly a century later, he could comfortably summon a dozen but if he put some effort into it he suspected he could create at least two dozen of the motes.

He dragged himself from his introspection as the light faded and observed the effects of his spell. The beach around Cassiopeia was black and slick as the immense heat had turned the sand into rippled glass but, rather impressively, the witch was still standing although she looked to be swaying slightly. He waited for her to act as he gathered his magic, ready to defend against whatever she threw at him next, but she just stood staring at him in disbelief. No. Not at him. Past him.

He whipped around and deflected a cutting curse as a hooded figure, wearing a depressingly familiar mask, tried to catch him unaware with their attack. Three other cloaked and masked figures quickly joined the attack and Dumbledore took a few careful steps backwards, deflecting and blocking curses all the while, until he felt water lap at his boot. He stepped back twice more until the water was spilling over the top of his boots and soaking the bottom of his robes and only then did he stop defending. He dipped his wand into the warm sea and grasped the tide in an iron grip, summoning a sudden and immense wave that swept across the beach from behind him. The wave swallowed several curses before it engulfed the Death Eaters and carried them down the length of the beach, spitting them out into the sand which opened and then swiftly closed around them leaving only their heads uncovered.

"You are still weak. Gellert would have destroyed them in a heartbeat." Cassiopeia muttered as she walked across to join him, her earlier hostility seemingly forgotten.

"Mercy is not weakness." Albus replied calmly, though internally he wrestled with a voice that echoed the Black witch's sentiments. His hand ached to direct the Elder Wand's fury at the cloaked figures and put a stop to their dark intentions permanently, but he resisted and instead picked up a shell from beside his boot. "Portus"

He threw the shell onto the beach between the four of them and then triggered the anchor. The shell and a cube of sand that contained the Death Eaters disappeared in a whirl, transporting them to the Ministry holding cells where they could be dealt with by the Aurors.

"Unless that portkey took them to Azkaban or a cliff edge, you were too merciful. I alwa-" Whatever else she was going to say was cut off as she fell to the ground, blood pooling from her chest and soaking into the sand as Albus knelt and pressed his wand to the wound as he attempted to staunch the bleeding. "Y-you killed during the war, Albus. Y-you know sometimes it-its necessary." She coughed out as blood speckled her lips.

"Hold on Cassiopeia. Gellert would kill us both if I let you die like this." Albus half-joked as he tried to counter the dark magic that suffused the two inch hole in her chest, a few fingers lower and it would have struck her heart but even as he wrestled with the tendrils of dark magic he knew he couldn't stop it. Three beats of her heart later and it stopped as the curse ripped it apart.

Albus stood solemnly as he eyed the dead witch who had wrought such carnage in her youth. He gestured with his wand and gently covered her in black wrappings as he turned to look at the rest of the island with a frown. Cassiopeia had been truthful when she told him she had received no other visitors, he could tell. A wasted trip and a needless loss of life.

Although the fact that Tom's followers had followed and attempted to attack him made him think that perhaps he was close to something they did not want him looking into. Very few of Tom's Death Eaters would dare risk openly duelling with him, and those that would were all in Azkaban. Was there something in France they were hiding? Or perhaps it was the person he was visiting? Either way it merited further investigation. After he had returned to Britain with his findings though. He took a deep breath and sighed as he turned back to the fallen witch before he apparated away with a hand on her floating body to keep her in tow. He could return her to Britain and lay her to rest with the rest of her family at least.

END