I apologise to any of my long time readers who might look this chapter over. I sort of did a cut-and-run move on you and it was not fair. Again, I'm sorry.

Fuzzy Pumpkin! Yes I'm a girl, just turned 25 years old as of 09-15-04 and this is my first fanfic or story of any kind. I have added this chapter mostly because of you. I had become so discouraged by what I thought was poorly focused and badly written that I started something new. But I hate the idea of leaving you hanging with the ending as it currently is…or, as it was.

I claim no rights to anything that is not of my own invention and I make no money from this fic because it has intrinsic pieces that are directly borrowed without permission/ripped/commandeered from other works.

Hey I have no idea why but my formatting isn't loading properly. I can't indent to indicate an excerpt from a written document so I had to just insert a note telling you that it was a written document being read.

Chapter 54:

Near midnight the air between the lake and Hogwarts seemed to wrinkle as a concealment charm came apart revealing the advancing Death Eaters. No one fired a curse. Both sides eyed each other warily, hoping to see defectors coming to their side.

Voldemort saw that the pause was giving both sides too much time to think. While the students might have been trying to determine whether the figure opposite them was a cousin or maybe their father, he knew through their Marks that his own men were beginning to recognize sons and daughters in the soft glow of lit wands.

'Clever, Garom. Keep their faces visible so my men might hesitate when things get close.' He was under no illusions as to who had trained the force that now stood guarding the castle.

"Master?" Wormtail wheezed for attention at his elbow.

He gave the fidgeting little man a slight flick of one wrist and a moment later the field was lit with the green glow of the Skull and Snake. 'Where are you Garom, I know you survived.' Slowly he looked over the battle lines again, it took only a moment, but he wanted to make sure. "Not here," he whispered to himself. "Where will you come from then?"

At a signal his men attacked. Voldemort went forward with them, but kept back enough to avoid even the chance of being hit.

In the sickening strobe light effect produced by so many flying curses most of the hits were glancing strikes that did far less damage than had been intended. The initial rush of the Death Eaters was held off and forced to retreat, slightly. Gradually the rhythm of the battle came through, the give and take, the ebb and flow, that the members of Slytherin House had been taught to look for rose to the surface and they settled into it almost gratefully.

After joining them for the initial rush, Voldemort drew back to watch the fight from a slight distance. His men did not need him to stand beside them as they slaughtered children. They needed him to face Dumbledore or Moody…neither of whom was making an appearance.

He felt them approaching from the forest, but it was a moment too late. By the time Voldemort had wheeled around with a curse half spoken, the male had already jumped from the back of the animal he was riding. With his hands out in an obviously shielding posture the male landed on his feet in a crouch.

"Garom," Voldemort acknowledged his opponent as he began to slowly circle to the right. The male matched him step for step. Looking for changes and finding them he catalogued the minute differences between the creature before him and the shade of It he had seen while Snape was asleep. Its fluidity and grace were freed from the limits that the Human form had intrinsically shackled It with. The muscle distribution and the exact places where tendons connected were not vastly altered, but he could see the changes as It continued to move with him.

The Garom kept his gloved hands up, wrists together, and said nothing. His eyes glowed a dim blue and the buckles of his harness and boots flashed deep purple, piercingly yellow, and smoky white with the reflected light of curses.

"You cannot kill me, Garom," Voldemort stated in an effort to bait the male into speaking. He wanted to hear the other's voice.

"I don't need to," the male responded calmly. "I only need to stop you."

Voldemort did not welcome the words, but the creature's voice, unhampered by Human vocal cords, made him think of smoke over calm water. "They have all betrayed you," he crooned. "Once all of this is over," a sweep of one hand indicated the battle field, "they will all turn on you. You are not one of them and never will be. Even the great Albus Dumbledore will not be able to protect you from being found out as an Exotic…at best. At worst, if you side with them, you will go back to the Ministry and be either killed, studied, or used as a tool. Together we can-"

He had thought that he was getting through to the male, that his words were insinuating themselves into the male's mind and possibly turning It to his way of thinking. And then the pain in his side, sudden and breath stealing, stopped him in mid sentence. The pain intensified as the long blade was twisted sharply. He had been ready for any sort of Magical attack, even Unframed. Pressure on his right side; a hand shoving him away from the blade and the one holding it…

Lord Voldemort fell forward, catching himself on his knees then collapsing to the ground. He had forgotten about the other, the female. The male had been right, It needed only to stop him; from noticing the approaching knife…

With the last of his strength Voldemort threw a curse he had prepared so that he didn't need to actually speak the words, only think them. 'Aveda…Kadava…' His wand released a jolt of green light, but he was dead before it hit the male Garom, squarely in Its chest.

One week later…

(written excerpt being read)

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore said that, and I quote "I had no idea that such a thing was going on, yes we were close, as working colleagues. He had always performed his tasks adequately and I had no reason whatsoever to think he was other than what he claimed and appeared to be." When asked, he said that the same answer applied to the one described as a 'female' of the same sort.

After the horrendous and shocking terrorist attack that closed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry earlier this week it appears that we now have another and much older scandal to look into.

Exactly how did two Exotics reach the level of Potion Master? How could they elude detection for so many years, while being employed by two of the finest Magic schools in the world? These are but two of the many questions being asked and I, your humble purveyor of truth, Rita Skeeter will not stop until you have the answers!

(end of written excerpt)

The male crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it down an alley as they passed.

"I told you it would be a waist of time," Starch smiled weakly.

He shrugged and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his midnight green duster.

"Does it still hurt?" Starch didn't look over as he asked.

"I stopped a Kadava with my body." He shrugged again. "I'm a little sore."

Starch chuckled softly. "I was referring to the bite."

The male's left hand found its way to the two small puncture wounds on the side of his neck, Starch had a similar pair of fresh marks on the side of his neck. "You broke your fast…" He couldn't find the words to ask what he wanted to know, the idea that he had been worth the sacrifice still made no sense.

"When she brought you into the school and-" Starch stopped walking and closed his eyes briefly.

The male felt his friend's remembered pain; their link had been strengthened through the completion of the Vampire style exchange of blood. He had already been a Vampire, in part, and so had not Crossed Over but the introduction of fresh Manna had been enough to revive him.

"Have the two of you made any plans for housing?" Starch asked, changing the subject and continuing down the street.

"I just lost my job, my Race, my identity, and every right that a Being naturally possess. No, housing hasn't been dealt with yet." He changed his stride enough to lightly bump Starch with his shoulder and caught the Exotic's grey eyes. "I think we'll stay with you and Lenore for a while longer. Maybe get the Clan together and have a meeting."

"Lenore will be pleased on both counts," Starch jumped a step ahead and pulled open the lobby door to a London apartment building.

The male tilted his head in question as he entered the building.

The Vampire smiled. "You and Severa will be staying, and you've finally acknowledged the existence of my wife."

"Sev!" A voice called from several flights up. The male looked up through the well of the staircase. Severa was leaning over the railing, smiling down at him. "Where's the paper?"

"I forgot, Sev," he smiled back. "I'll try to remember it tomorrow night."

"You know, they had to have a cover story," Starch murmured, once Severa had returned to the apartment.

"I know," he sighed. Jogging up the stairs on his toes he didn't wait for Starch to catch up.