"Here", Albus handed Astor his wand, the elder wand. "One more dementor isn't going to hurt, and I'm sure you're itching for your revenge; you know the spell"Astor couldn't understand it. Was this some last cruel joke? Robbing him of any closure or joy in vengeance by handing his life over willingly? Or was something else going on? He held the wand in front of him, his hand trembling as he moved his lips to exhale the final words. Just before he cast the curse, the glint in Albus's green eyes gave something away. There was some chicanery in all this. Astor let his hand fall by his side, and the elder wand dropped, bouncing on the stone floor below his feet.