As always, I apologise for my instability. I can't promise to do better, but I can promise to try.

Please leave a review - it's a great incentive to keep going.

- Love Leo

Albus Dumbledore was sitting near the fire, knitting – it was a hobby he had taken up recently. He did it the muggle way, trying to understand the mechanics of the patterns and how to move the needles to get different stitches. So far, he had made 34 potholders and was decidedly proud of himself. It helped cementing his image as a lover of all things muggle too. Nothing was more muggle than knitting.

He interrupted the knitting every once in a while, to take a sip of the fine mead sitting in a tumbler on the side table. All in all, he was quite satisfied with the way things were turning out. One by one, the families had lost influence, leaving himself as the natural leader of their community. The last of the ancient families to go down was the Blacks. It had been a challenge since the family had members on both sides of the war, but a few well-placed remarks had painted Sirius in a bad light and when the idiot had all but made a clear confession to killing the Potters, he couldn't believe his luck. That mangy dog was the only thing that had stood between himself and power and he had only had to lie back and enjoy the show while Black dug a deeper and deeper hole for himself. Of course, he knew about the change in secret keepers – James Potter wouldn't even wipe his own arse without his permission. Dumbledore was after all, the only one to know how Lily Evans really fell in love with James Potter.

He had caught the boy sneaking out of Slughorns office with the vial of Amortentia that his class had brewed earlier in the week. It would already have been graded, but Slughorn had always been sloppy with destroying the potions samples from the students. Recognising the writing on the label as that of young Severus Snape, he knew that the potion would be most potent, which was likely the reason Potter had stolen that particular vial. He let the boy keep the potion, with a "good luck" and a smirk. Potter had left the dungeons looking absolutely dumbfounded and slightly wary. Nevertheless, the boy started the romance with the Evans girl on a high dose of Amortentia, but eventually lowered the dosage to stop completely. He assumed that the girl must have become naturally enamoured with the Potter boy, because she stayed. Of course, it was hard for her to leave by then because they were already married, but c'est la vie. At least their son wasn't conceived under the potion, so that was a relief.

Yes. Everything was coming up Albus – slowly but surely, all the pieces were lining up as they should on his chessboard. He leaned back in his chair with a satisfied sigh. The only ones that could threaten him had barely reached their toddler years. He was still debating with himself whether or not it would be easier to kill the girl at least, but if he could control her, she would be a formidable weapon.

…

Nico shadow travelled them directly into Camp Halfblood, pulling Hermione out of the shadows behind the Big House.

They were met with chaos.

Large flames licked at the border of the camp, making it look like a large fiery wall. Demigods were running with buckets of water that had been fetched from the lake, though a short boy was hauling what looked like a seriously tricked out Super Soaker.

Two girls were half walking, half dragging Argus, whose eyes were all rolling, giving Nico slight vertigo. He and Hermione both ran to help them and together they managed to get him to the porch, where he finally collapsed.

"What happened?" He asked Kayla, the head of the Apollo Cabin, who was now checking Argus' vitals.

"I have no idea. Argus was supposed to pick up that guy who was coming from Camp Jupiter to get the flower to help Will, but suddenly he just came rolling in on his own and the hill was on fire. We can't seem to put it out and we haven't been able to look for that other guy he was supposed to bring." She rattled off, frowning in concentration as she worked with frantically on Argus who looked impossibly pale. "Joanna might know more though, I think she was feeding Peleus, so she might have seen what was happening on the hill." She nodded her head in the direction of a young girl who was standing near the great pine, staring at the fire with large horrified eyes and an open mouth. Silent tears were streaming down her cheeks, but if that was due to what she witnessed on the hill, or the angry red burns on her hands and arms, was unclear.

"She won't let me heal them" Kayla said with pursed lips.

Nico nodded. "I'll have a look."

He strode up the hill, carefully so he wouldn't startle the girl. He put a hand on her shoulder and gently turned her around, so she wasn't looking at the scene before her. She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged him fiercely. He generally wasn't a hugger but traumatised 10-year-olds would be the exception to anyone's rules, and he hugged her back with equal force. He sat down with her and cradled her, carefully snaking the arm that wasn't supporting her back, down to grab the first aid kit from his bag that had slipped off his shoulder and now laid with its contents scattered on the ground.

He took a bottle of water that Hermione had charmed to be self-replenishing and constantly from the bag, and silently thanked both her and Hecate for the wonders of magic. He slowly let the water trickle down the girl's burns, cooling them down. After a while of this, he found the burn paste (again, thank you Hermione) and applied it generously, finishing off with bandaging her hands and arms with practised hands. He had gained a lot of first aid experience working with Will, first in the Apollo Cabin and later in the Valetudinarium in New Rome.

Will.

Sure, he worried about Draco, but for selfish reasons. First and foremost because he was the only one, as far as he was aware, who would be able to make the potion for Will and secondly because Hermione would be sad about losing him.

Hermione would recover from losing Draco though. Will wouldn't recover from dying.

He coaxed Joanna into eating a small piece of ambrosia and drink a mouthful of nectar to speed up her healing.

…

Hermione had started helping with the efforts of getting water from the lake. Percy should have been here – it would be easy for him to just redirect some of the water or even summon the toilet water to put out the fire. In her own way, she was concentrating heavily on levitating one of the canoes filled with water and was almost at the border of the camp, when she saw something that made her gasp and drop the canoe.

Something was moving inside the flames.

No. It was the flames themselves, making the movement.

Large dragons, chimeras, manticores and any other animal that would wish to devour you, were dancing in the fire, and she knew that all the water in the world would not be enough to put this out.

"Fiendfyre" she whispered, horrified. It wouldn't stop until it had devoured anything flammable or until the countercharm was cast. A countercharm she had only tried once, with something smaller than a campfire. There was no way she would be able to be able to put this out.

"Stop!" She screamed, when she saw the short boy with the Super Soaker step towards the border with the intention of crossing it. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. "Whatever you do – do not cross that border!" she yelled at the campers who were on their way with buckets of water. "That's cursed fire"

She ran until she reached Nico and the girl. She was about to fire questions at her, but Nico glared at her in warning. "I think it's better if we go to the Big House and sit down. Maybe have a nice cup of hot cocoa before we start with the questions, yeah?" He told her and she bit her own tongue in frustration. He started walking with an arm around Joanna's shoulder, but Hermione grabbed his bicep as he was about to pass her.

"We can't put this out on our own. We need backup." She told him lowly.

Nico frowned. "It's going to take Percy ages to get here"

"Not that kind of backup. That there is Fiendfyre – cursed fire, which means that it needs to be put out by wizards who know the countercharm. Either that or it's going to burn down the entire forest."

Nico nodded, not entirely happy about the prospect of even more people learning the camp's location.

"It also means that it was a wizard or witch who cast it" Hermione continued grimly. "We'll need aurors."

"They can investigate on the outside, but they probably can't get in. We should talk to Chiron." Nico frowned.

"I'll follow in a moment. I'll get a message to Harry. They need to be on stand-by at least."

They separated, Nico gently guiding Joanna into the Big House and Hermione walking closer to the lake. She turned her back to the fire and ignored the exploding cracks from the trees that were consumed by the fiendfyre in the background. Rather than thinking of a memory, she thought of the people she loved the most and let those emotions fill her up. Since she started doing that, her patronus had been brighter and stronger than ever. She thought about the message she wanted to send to Harry, said the incantation and watched as her otter frolicked around her once before it dashed eastward across the Atlantic towards London, England. She sighed as she turned around and followed the other two to the large farmhouse.

…

His first thought was that it was strange, how his head felt incredibly light and his body felt incredibly heavy at the same time. He felt completely drained and had difficulty opening his eyes, but he was sure that if he were to peel apart those eyelids of his, the room would be spinning. The next thing he noticed was the floor his face was pressed against – it was made of stone, but was a floor nonetheless, but hadn't he fallen on grass?

Maybe this was the Underworld – obviously the Fields of Punishment, judging by the pain and the metallic stench of blood. It certainly wouldn't be a surprise considering his previous misdeeds. Either that or his mind had chosen to take a stroll down memory lane and relive the good times of his summer holiday between sixth and seventh year after failing to kill Dumbledore. The Malfoy dungeons had a lot of equipment, and it had all been tested thoroughly on him.

He finally managed to roll over, even if the movement gave him severe vertigo. He opened his eyes and found himself in a classic dungeon. Stone walls, stone floor, stone ceiling, tiny barred window up high, a heavy wooden door and even straw in the corner. Why is there always straw? Honestly? Smelled like mildew too.

He thought he might have been slightly delirious from blood loss, but his head quickly cleared when he heard movement outside the door. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down, and to listen.

He heard a key being shoved roughly into the lock. The door was stuck but after a few attempts, the man outside the door swore and shoved it open with a grunt.

The man was shuffling along unevenly, so if he was to take a bet, the man was drunk. Something that was confirmed when he got close enough to smell. One could get tipsy just from standing too close to him and the way his breath tingled his face almost made him gag.

"So. The little blood traitor." The man coughed and spat into the corner "I know you're awake little dragon" he hissed mockingly.

Draco opened his eyes and rolled them at Avery.

The older man smirked and Draco took in his unkempt appearance. He had never been the most put together man, but the bloodshot eyes, the stained shirt, the sunken cheeks, unkempt hair and stubble made him look like a homeless person. But then again, he had heard that the Ministry had seized all Avery's assets, so he probably was. That made Draco smirk a little too.

SMACK

His cheek burned as the bastard backhanded him.

"Thought we lost you there, boy" Avery sneered. "But you seem to have just as much cheek as usual"

"Why, I didn't know you cared, old man" Draco coughed.

The old man laughed without humour. "It should be obvious that I don't particularly care, but your blood won't work when you're dead"

Draco didn't like the way the man said 'when' and not 'if' "What do you even need it for" he winced

The man stood up and swayed for a bit before answering. "You'll get us into the Manor. Your father was keeping something there that wasn't his to keep." Avery spat into the corner again.

Draco wrinkled his nose. He knew about the diary – maybe that was it. He almost breathed a sigh of relief, but knew that if he told the old idiot that their efforts were in vain, he would die instantly. Playing ignorant seemed like the best option.

"What was he keeping?" he asked.

"Never you mind that, little dragon" Avery grunted and turned around. He walked out the door, slammed and locked it. A surge of power followed, and Draco knew that the door had been heavily warded.

…

Harry almost fell off the toilet, when the otter burst through the bathroom wall and spoke in Hermione's shaking voice.

"Harry, I need you to find as many as you know knows the countercharm to the Fiendfyre curse. I have a forest fire out of control at Long Island and I don't have enough power to put it out. I'll send the coordinates in a moment"

He cursed and threw the Daily Prophet in the corner and finished his business. He had been in the middle of a great article, but the former Chaser for the Ballycastle Bats would have to wait. Said chaser was covering his eyes on the photo as Harry pulled his pants up, washed his hands and went in search of his DA-coin.