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Prince The Black Wand was done, lying quielty in his hand, no longer bursting with energy. Perhaps, like Prince, it was comtemplating the majesty of their achievment. Hogwarts, the untouchable school, had fallen. In past wars the school had always been the safe haven, a calm island in the middle of the storm. This time, Hogwarts was only the beginning.

Tucking the wand safely up his sleeve, Prince walked through the smouldering ruin, the occasional flame licking at his robe hem. No fire, however, would catch him. Like the rest of his group, Prince was still protected. He sought out Daiva, and motioned to Derek, Danuliete and Gem. Brooke of course, still followed her Mother like a lost duckling. She seemed in shock, but either way, it didn't matter. Daiva's girl would side with them.

"Come Daiva." He said, taking her hand and smiling again. "It is time to leave."

~~~

Bertram de Black Bertram de Black had a letter in his hand and a smile on his face. The letter bore on it an official crest and his daughter’s name. He could have owled it to her of course, but after all this time, he desperately wanted to be there at one of the happiest occasions in Brooke’s life. He had missed so many in the last ten years, due to his personal mission to clear his wife’s name. But he knew just how important this letter was, which is why he was hurrying at a great pace towards Hogwarts School. Of course he could have apparated. Could have been there an hour earlier. Only he didn’t know that then and he would forever feel a nagging guilt that he should have, could have, done more.

As he nearer the school environs however, after having dismounted the train, he became aware of a sickly aura and a gross black discharge which began to fill the air. With mounting horror he saw that it must be coming from Hogwarts Castle itself.

Bertram’s smile dispersed and his Auror sense took over. At this very moment a letter was winging its way to the Minister of Magic himself. Posted faithfully from Hogsmeade by Vivienne Moor, but the whole world was still oblivious. Bertram de Black did not know what he would find inside, but he was prepared. He put the letter away, took out his wand and cast a spell of speed. Within two minutes he was at the front door. Or at least what should have been the front door, for it was no longer there.

He stepped into the smouldering remains and saw…what there was to see. He saw charred remains, flames that danced, corpses and then he saw – his wife!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Daiva!” he yelled. “Oh my……… Daiva!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

There was a lot else he didn’t see, including the man standing behind her. But in that moment it was the culmination of ten years work and ten year’s loss in a moment. Bertram de Black saw his Daiva.

~~~

Daiva Danuliete Daiva didn't have a heart. But whatever it was which was there in the place where her heart had once rested, made a movement, allowed her to feel something else except for the searing nothingness, for the first time in many years.

Wonderingly, searchingly she turned and looked at the man whom, almost despite herself, she had once loved as dearly as the daughter whose hand she held.

She forgot the rush of the flames, the high of the dance and moved away from JP towards Bertram without thinking what she was doing.

In some situations it could have been a beautiful moment, a touching family reunion, to be talked abut in years to come, if only someone had had a camera...

But it wasn't one of those situations and the whole thing had a ghastly, unnerving quality to it.

Daiva and Brooke stood opposite Bertram and they all stared. Noone moved and noone spoke. The only noise to be heard was the crackling of the flames as Hogwarts came down around them.

~~~

Brooke de Black "Mum," said Brooke, breaking the silence. "Dad."

She positively beamed. It was indeed out of all the horrors of the day, a dream come true. Somehow, some way, it would all be OK.

~~~

Prince Being on the sidelines was not a situation John-Paul was used to, nor did he particularly enjoy it. This family reunion was sickening. Daiva should have been his, Brooke should have been his heir. Instead Daiva had thrown herself at the feet of that mudblood-blood loving fool, de Black.

The de Black brat was grinning foolishly, staring like a delusional two year old at a candy store. He had come so close, his goal was in sight... and that git had interfered again.

Anger made his blood boil and he lifted his wand. He wouldn't, couldn't, let this happen. This time, Bertram de Black would lose everything. Starting with his life.

"Avada Kedavra!"

~~~

Daiva de Black It took the smallest fraction of the smallest second. The spell lept from the wand, as if eager to be tested in its capacity for destruction.

In later years it was much debated how much thought was involved in the decsion that followed. Whether perhaps her mind had been so warped, so altered that she in fact had no clear idea what she was doing at all, or just be chance happened to wander in the wrong direction at the wrong time.

But whether it was, in the end, an act of selfless, blind love or the mark of the insane does not alter events and oes not rewrite history.

As the words were cast, Daiva de Black stepped in front of her husband.

And died.

~~~

Prince All eyes watched as the single figure dropped to the floor, lifeless. Disbelief registered on the faces of all, including, for a moment, the murderer. It took less than a second for John-Paul to realize what he had done... and who was to blame.

"You!" His wand never lowered, and he advanced on the foolish man. It was Bertram's fault, he had poisoned her mind. He had her so close to being normal, to being his, and then this man had appeared. The shock of his appearence had undone all the sanity John-Paul had forced Daiva to accept. That was why she had stumbled in front of her old lover. It wasn't as if she actually loved de Black.

He paused just an instant as that thought sunk in. She had never loved Prince, a fact he was willing to overlook for his own satisfaction. Could it be possible, was there a chance--?

No!

It couldn't be, he wouldn't accept it! But he was no fool. If love was the cause--which it wasn't--this man before him, this shrivelling wreck, had an undoable protection. Love! Curse her! Curse Daiva for dying without telling them why!

Without a sure knowledge he couldn't risk an attack. But he could not let de Black get away! Every moment that man had stolen from John-Paul would be paid for in tears! His love for a dead woman would not stop him from hurting her murderer, the thief who had taken who should have been his child!

De Black was slowly coming out of his stupor, and quick as a flash he reached out and grabbed Brooke's, no, his daughters (for should she not have been his?), arm. He signalled to his companion and his daughter, and back away from de Black. Where was Danuliete? One way or another they were leaving--she could fend for herself.

The group of four gathered, Brooke's arm still in his clutch. He gave a low growl in de Black's direction.

And without another sound they were gone. Prince John-Paul, Brooke de Black, Derek Taurus, and Gem Taurus vanished.