So for those of you that have already read this story this is the new version, for those of you that have only just found this welcome :) hope you like it, leave a review if you care to.

Alexander Walsh was sat in his office at his desk, tired after a long day of translating. His family were keepers of one of the oldest libraries in the Northern Hemisphere. It was a secret, handed down to each generation, a library that housed ancient texts that dated back to before the times of the great Merlin himself. The Library was peaceful at night, after everyone had gone home and most of the lamps had been extinguished for the night. A sense of tranquility seemed to take over and this was the time that Walsh found he could always get the most work done.

Walsh absent-mindedly stirred the spoon in the fresh cup of tea that sat at his side as he translated a text that had been sent from Egypt earlier that morning. A group of Muggle archaeologists had discovered it in a tomb the believed to be that of a Pharaoh, in reality it was a tomb of an ancient Wizard. The Muggle's of course had had their findings confiscated and their memories modified. The artifacts had been sent to various Ministries for study while the ancient texts had been sent to the Library for translation.

It was the early hours of the morning when Walsh first heard the noise, a creaking sound like that of a closing door, or heavy steps on old wooden floors. He lent back in his chair and stretched, checking the area around him as he did. Nothing, just shadows from the candlelight of his office. Walsh sighed, he hated working late but the Egyptian Ministry were expecting a translation by noon the next day.

"Why they need me to do it is a mystery," he grumbled to himself before taking a sip of his tea.

He had just bent back down over the hieroglyphics when another sound came from out amongst the shelves.

"Hello?" he called, thinking it was perhaps his son come to force him to retire for the night. "Joseph is that you?" He stood and walked to the door.

There was no reply.

Just as Walsh turned to return to work a gust of wind swept through the room and blew out all the candles, engulfing the office in darkness.

"What on earth?" Walsh asked himself as he moved to retrieve his wand from his pocket. But before he could something slammed him back against the wall his wand forced from his hand and thrown to the floor.

There was a mutter in the dark and the candles were relit illuminating the room in a soft glow. Walsh gasped as a hooded figure stood not a metre in front of him. They were tall and decidedly masculine if the broad shoulders and large hands were anything to go by.

"What do you want?" Walsh asked fear making his voice shake and his body tremble.

"Myrddin's Book, where is it?" he barked, pressing his wand against Walsh's throat. He gulped, forcing air into his lungs as he felt the wand dig into his windpipe.

"Where is the book?"the man growled, pushing him so hard against the wall that books were knocked from their perches and fell to the floor.

"I don't know what you're talking about!"he cried almost gagging as the wand began to crush his windpipe.

"Don't. Lie." The man growled again before removing his wand and pointing it at Walsh's chest. "Crucio!" Walsh screamed as pain ripped through his body. He felt as though a thousand knives were digging into his flesh, as white hot pain flashed behind his eyes. Just when Walsh thought he was going to pass out from the pain it suddenly stopped. The man looked him in the eyes before leaning down to punch him in the stomach. Walsh's eyes watered and his knees shook as he lost his breath.

"Now I'll ask again. Where is Myrddin's book?"

"Please I beg you, I don't know!" Walsh cried, his voice raw from screaming.

"Crucio."

Walsh screamed again.

"Tell me!" the man yelled shaking Walsh's limp body before shoving him back against the wall. Walsh coughed as he felt blood trickle passed his lips. He spat at the man.

The man wiped his face and sneered at Walsh. "You shouldn't have done that," the man whispered before once again cursing Walsh, only this time the pain was far worse. "You will tell me, and I'll let you die. If you don't, well you'll die anyway but it won't be anywhere near as fast."

Walsh chuckled, his white lips stretching over his blood stained teeth. "I do not fear death." The man punched him and Walsh felt his nose crunch as more blood poured from his face. "Did I hit a nerve?" Walsh asked smiling.