STORY NUMBER 10! YEAH!

Anyway, this story goes deeper into the fates of Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus Peverell. It will be a three-shot. I own the supposed names of witches and wizards, spells, and motives (the reason Antioch's enemy is his enemy). Anything you recognize is not owned by me.

Oh, and Tamworth is an actual place; it's located in present-day Staffordshire, England, and has been around since Saxon times (around the fall of Rome).

Enjoy!

Antioch Peverell stood atop the hill, looking down on his destination, Tamworth. Again, he checked his pocket to make sure his unbeatable wand was there. It had been a week since he and his brothers, Cadmus and Ignotus, evaded Death and were rewarded for it.

A man who lusts for power, Antioch requested that Death give him an unbeatable wand. Fashioned from the branch of an elder tree, Antioch had indeed seen its true power; a simple Blasting Jinx obliterated a giant boulder instead of ricocheting off its smooth surface.

It was, and would continue to be, an extension of his power. Pulling the wand out of his pocket, Antioch thought about the face of his enemy. Ancelot Orlebar's sharp angular features burned into his mind like the back of his hand, and Antioch felt the viselike sensation of Apparition as he sped to his enemy's home.

Not bothering with pleasantries, Antioch waved his indestructible wand. The door was blasted open with a loud bang, scraping against the floor until it hit the staircase with a crash. Smirking at his newfound power, Antioch stepped slowly and casually into the darkened room, as if he was just visiting.

The house had seen better days. A fine layer of dust settled on everything, giving Antioch the impression that it hasn't been cleaned in quite awhile. Waned yellow candles littered the furniture surfaces. Several portraits hung on the wall, their painted gazes following Antioch as he made his way further into the house.

"What the devil's going on down there?" Orlebar's accented voice drifted down the stairs, followed shortly by the man himself.

Tall and well built, Ancelot Orlebar was a man who inspired fear and intimidation. His shaggy blond hair fell in greasy strands down his angular, pinched face. His dark eyes seemed to peer into Antioch's soul, which reminded the latter of the purpose of his visit.

"Hello, Orlebar," Antioch stated coldly. "It's been a long time, old friend."

"Too long, I'm afraid, Antioch, ol' boy," Orlebar replied with equal iciness. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"I think you know."

Orlebar hesitated only a moment before answering, "Why don't you enlighten me, Peverell?"

"Revenge for Libbe." Even speaking her name brought waves of pain to Antioch, who allowed his mind to take him away in the memories of Libbe: her soft dark hair, laughing blue eyes, charming sense of humor...

"Libbe? Don't tell me you're still pining over that miserable-"

BAM!

A flash of green exploded from Antioch's wand; Orlebar barely had time to dive out of harm's way and whip out his own wand.

"You'll want to watch what you say about Libbe," Antioch warned. "She was my girl, and you took away the happiness we had. You got jealous and decided if you couldn't have her, no one could. You tried to kill me, but she got in the way. And now, I'm going to finish what I started!

"Prepare yourself, old friend." The last part slid off Antioch's mouth like oil as he got ready to duel. "I'll even let you cast first. You'll not get the better of me this time."

The two wizards circled each other, each with suspicion and loathing in their eyes. It was deadly silent in the old house.

Then, as soon as it began, it was over. Orlebar lay on the floor, his eyes wide open in shock. He had cast a Disarming spell at his opponent, who had his Killing Curse announced and exploding out of his wand before Orlebar's spell could burst out of his wand.

"Looks like I got the last laugh, old friend." Chuckling mirthlessly, Antioch stalked out of his former enemy's house, leaving Ancelot Orlebar staring at the ceiling, looking eternally shocked. He made sure to replace the door back on its hinges before stepping out into the steady rain.

Antioch made his way down to the local inn. He'd done it. He'd beaten his enemy, who always outshone him and tried to kill him, at the price of Libbe's life. Unable to keep the triumphant grin off his face, he strode into the inn, head held high. Pounding three Galleons on the table, he roared, "Barkeeper, a drink!"

The barkeepers and the other patrons stared at this boisterous stranger, but nonetheless, shrugged him off and went about their normal business.

Antioch laughed merrily as he grabbed his drink and gulped it down. Orlebar's shocked face matched perfectly with his broken neck; if one hadn't killed him, the other most certainly did.

"I did it! I bested your best dueler, Ancelot Orlebar, with one spell! Yes, check it for yourself; he's dead! Broken neck and Killing Curse!"

"Rubbish," a dark clad man called from a darkened corner of the inn.

The patrons, anticipating an arrogant reaction, turned to Antioch, who studied the man closely. "Rubbish, you say? Well, I can tell you that this wand-" He brandished the elder wood wand and waved it in the air triumphantly. "-I took from the hands of Death himself! Told me whoever wields it will win every duel they face!"

The dark man nodded, looking appropriately satisfied. Antioch, who failed to realize the greedy look in the dark man's eyes, called for more beer, repeating his tale numerous times, changing the details. By the end of the night, the duel apparently blew Orlebar's house to bits and Antioch suffered a severe concussion and several broken bones before finishing off his hated enemy.

"Barkeeper, a room if you please!" a severely drunk Antioch called out, his large frame swaying slightly.

Paying several Galleons, Antioch made his way upstairs and prepared himself for the long journey he faced heading home.

Climbing into bed, Antioch considered placing protective charms on his room, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. He was the most powerful wizard with his elder wood wand. He'd wake up soon enough to protect himself against any intruders.

And with that thought, Antioch drifted off to sleep, lusting over his virtual invincibility.

Later, Antioch woke up to feel himself choking. His neck felt very cool, as if wind was blowing on it. Warm blood gushed from his throat. He reached out for his wand, the one thing that would save him, but it wasn't there.

His eyelids heavy, Antioch was accompanied to his death by the sound of heavy, mocking laughter. He saw the twisted face of Death himself under a dark cloak. His skeletal teeth grinning down on him as he twirled the elder wood wand carelessly in his skeletal fingers.

"Come, Antioch Peverell. Your arrogance has cost you. There's no escaping what's inevitable."

Antioch could do nothing more as Death wrapped his fingers around his neck and pulled, taking with him Antioch's soul for his own.

And so Death took the first brother for his own.