Kassandra Bauer and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Book 3)

Chapter 2: Prison Break.

On the Shores of England. (3rd Person P.O.V)

All was relatively quiet on the shores of England. The only sound was that of the surf pounding on the beach. And also the occasional seagull looking to nest on the rocks or whatever docks they could find. Nothing very much happened on the isolated locations of the shore, where no one visited. Especially for a place where Muggles would dare not go. 

So it seemed out of the ordinary for a black dog to suddenly emerge from the shore out of the waves. The Black Dog was panting, exhausted by the long swim it had endured. And it had endured swimming for a long time. All over the North Sea. It completely collapsed on the shores. And then, as by magic... the black dog had suddenly turned into a man. A man with messed up black hair. Disgusting black and white robes. And a bad beard. He was also very skinny. "The Shores... of England... I made it..." He laughed while passed out on the beach. He then looked to see the forests. "You haven't changed a bit." 

But the Man knew he couldn't stay for long. It was only a matter of time before word that he was now on English Shores would no doubt reach the Ministry of Magic. Pretty soon, the Aurors would put out an all points bulletin. The Man knew this. 

And he also knew that he had one thing to take care of. And one thing was on his mind. The Boy Who Lived. The World Famous Wizard who defeated the Ultimate Dark Lord when he was only an infant. The Man hadn't seen him in so long. 12 years now. 

"Harry Potter..." He said.

Kassandra (P.O.V)

It was a hot afternoon in the summer. I was used to heat like this though back in Greece. My hair was tied in a bun. I was breathing in and out. My Yew Wand in my hand. And I was gripping it in my hand. I closed my eyes.

Ever since that fight against the Basilisk, there was an idea in the back of my mind. I fought it with the Sword of Gryffindor. I did it. And I know that I've seen sword fighting before by my brothers. They could make Energy Swords with their wands. Or in Jacob's case, his wand. So why couldn't I do it? 

The problem was that there wasn't anything in my textbooks about trying to make a sword out of magic. I was only going to be a third year. But maybe if I believed in myself, then I could do it. It would also make dueling and standing up to bullies like Draco Malfoy far easier. "Energy Sword!" I shouted. But nothing came forward. 

"Malaka." I muttered. I raised my wand again. "Energy Sword!" I yelled out. Only it released a bolt of magic that hit a rock. "That's going to leave a mark." I squinted my eyes. And the rock was completely sliced in half. And caused a noise disturbance. "Oops." 

It got Mater's attention though. She walked outside the door to the house. And she saw the rock sliced in half. "Kassie. If you're going to slice things in half, could you please not do it in the Garden?" She requested. She then raised her wand. "Reparo." And the rock was fixed. 

"Sorry, Mater." I said guilty. "Spell gone wrong, again." I slumped down on the ground.  

"Which Spell?" Mater asked. 

"That Energy Sword Spell." I answered. "I've been trying to figure out how to make one ever since that fight with the Basilisk. And also because I wanted to try something different instead of all the Work I got over the Holiday." 

The Professors at Hogwarts had given us a lot of Holiday Work. And I was trying to do my best albeit very challenging. Mater helped me with Transfigurations and Charms. Especially Lumos Maxima. We did it at night so we could get a better results. At least I didn't have to sneak off at night and do under the covers. The only thing that was so annoying was having to work on History of Magic and talking about the 14th Century Witch Burnings being pointless because of Anti Freezing Charms or something like that. I got about a roll of parchment about the topic. And the only reason I was able to get it to a Parchment was because Mater pretty much sat down with me and made sure I got what I needed. It had to be in my own handwriting though and my own words.