Chapter Fourteen
Bolstered by the destruction of the locket, Harry, Ron, and Hermione felt a new wave of optimism for more breakthroughs in the days that followed. Ron had also apologized to Harry profusely for what he had said about his guardians, “I’m so sorry, Harry, I swear I didn’t mean it. Wearing the Horcrux isn’t an excuse…” Ron had said, but Harry had cut him off.
“Water under the bridge, mate,” Harry assured him, and he meant it. With the events of Godric’s Hollow and their recent success, Harry had almost forgotten what Ron had said against Sirius and Remus. He knew already that Ron hadn’t meant it, and moreover, Ron was three times more inquisitive now than he had been before into how Harry’s family was faring with the ongoing war. Forgiveness, Harry found, was a sweet fruit indeed when it came to Ron and what he’d said in his anger.
And at Headquarters, Remus and Sirius’ energy also received a similar revitalization. Remus spoke anew to Sirius about his hopes for finding and ending Greyback’s reign of terror. Teddy’s drawings grew more colorful and imaginative—he stopped asking Harry when he was coming home and began asking him what he was doing, what did it look like, and could he tell Teddy?
This shortly became Teddy’s new bedtime routine, where Harry, Ron, and Hermione told Teddy of their day foraging and camping, embellished here and there with their sightings of magical creatures, until Teddy’s eyes drooped closed.
Harry now found that with Ron’s return, the destruction of the locket, the gaining of the sword, the appearance of the mysterious doe Patronus, and his family’s renewed hopes, he could not stop grinning.
It was five days after Ron’s return and the locket’s destruction that Sirius called Harry on the mirror with the news of the Taboo.
“Blimey, Harry, about time,” Ron said when Harry stepped into the tent after going out for a late-night wash in the nearby stream, “Sirius’ got news to share but he wanted to wait to tell Hermione and I until you got here.”
The good mood which Harry, Ron, Sirius, Remus, and Teddy now enjoyed was exempt for Hermione. She was still giving Ron the cold-shoulder, and Ron had the good sense to look downcast and forlorn in her presence as of late.
At the moment, however, even Hermione seemed antsy to hear Sirius’ news.
“The name’s cursed,” Sirius said in the mirror as soon as Harry sat before where it was propped up on the table, “You lot better keep saying You-Know-Who—I know you think it’s a bad habit, Harry, but the name’s been jinxed. Using the name breaks wards and causes a magical disturbance that the Snatchers and Death Eaters can track. They just about nearly nabbed Kingsley today.”
“What d’you mean?” Harry pressed.
“You’ve got to give them credit; it makes sense,” Sirius said lowly, “The Order is among the only people who ever say the name. Now they’ve gone and put a bloody Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable.”
“But what happened to Kingsley?” Hermione wanted to know.
Sirius ran a hand through his hair. He looked slightly haggard; there were bags under his eyes and he was holding onto Teddy tightly in his lap. The toddler looked quite serious—his featured imitating Sirius’ at the moment.
“Moony and I were with him. Bill too. It happened about two hours ago. Kingsley was giving us a report about the Ministry and he said You-Know-Who’s name. Bloody Death Eater’s appeared out of thin air—and we’d set up wards around our meeting place in Soho Square. It was late enough, there were no Muggles about. We thought it’d be safe. We fought them off, but the Death Eaters know well enough now that Kingsley’s one of us. He’s on the run now. Not sure where…” Sirius leaned down and lightly kissed Teddy’s forehead, “Anyway, don’t say the name, you lot.”
“Where’s Remus?” Harry asked him.
“Covering Kingsley’s mission with Bill tonight. A raid,” Sirius said.
The news was a bit of a let-down, most especially due to the loss of Kingsley’s inside ear to the Death-Eater-run Ministry, but it still did not completely dampen Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s uplifted spirits.
“I have an idea,” Hermione said suddenly.
Harry looked at her, she was holding that dreaded book: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.
“I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood,” she said, looking at Sirius in the mirror.
Sirius, Harry, and Ron all frowned. Teddy, meanwhile, had closed his eyes (Sirius’ eyes) and leaned into Sirius’ chest, fading off quickly into sleep.
“And why do you want to do that?” Sirius asked her.
Hermione pointed to the page in the book she had been reading—it showed the copy of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald. With a spark, Harry remembered that he had not yet told Sirius and Remus of his discovery of Dumbledore’s sexuality, or of the book’s contents. Later, Harry told himself, I’ll tell them both.
“It’s the mark,” Hermione said, taking a deep breath as if bracing herself, “The mark in The Tales of Beedle the Bard. Look at the signature!”
Harry and Ron looked closer at the page, Sirius’ whole face filling the mirror as he craned to see. Dumbledore’s letter was signed with a tiny version of the same triangular mark.
“It keep cropping up, doesn’t it?” Hermione continued, speaking in a rush, “I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald’s mark, but it was definitely on that old grave at Godric’s Hollow—”
“What old grave?” Sirius interrupted.
Hermione glanced up at the mirror, meeting his sharp gaze, “I’m not sure who’s grave it was, but the dates were ancient—long before Grindelwald came along.”
Sirius frowned but Hermione pressed on, “Mr. Lovegood was wearing this symbol at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. I think we should ask him what it means. I’m sure this is important.”
“Don’t you think if it was important, Dumbledore would have told me about it before he died?” Harry said, his voice slightly exasperated with his simmering anger at Dumbledore resurfacing.
“This symbol links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric’s Hollow,” Hermione said emphatically, “and it was in the book that Dumbledore left me. I’m certain we have to look into it.”
Harry looked to Ron, who was nodding earnestly, “I agree,” he said but Harry was certain that Ron’s support of Hermione had little to do with a desire to hunt down the meaning of the odd triangular rune.
Sirius spoke up, “I don’t know this symbol or what it has to do with Godric’s Hollow,” he said in a low voice, “but I reckon if it was in the book Dumbledore left you, Hermione…then maybe it’s worth looking into.”
“Excellent, it’s settled,” Ron said brightly, “And the Lovegood’s live just beyond the hills near the Burrow. Should be a nice trip.”
Harry looked to Sirius, who was now looking thoughtful, “Xenophilius is on our side, but best be careful traveling so close to the Burrow. The region is swarming with Snatchers. Keep the mirror in your pocket, Harry.”
“I will,” Harry promised, nodding and then asked Hermione, “Will Luna be around? Still holiday term, isn’t it?”
Hermione nodded, “I believe she’ll be headed back to Hogwarts in two days. If we leave tomorrow morning, we could see her too.”
The next morning, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood on the breezy hillside looking down upon the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Harry found himself smiling remembering the pre-dawn walk up these hills three years and a few months prior to catch the Portkey to the Quidditch World Cup Final. Now the village was cast in rays of slanted sunlight that broke through the wintery clouded sky, and they all turned to look back toward the Burrow. All they could see was the high hedges and trees of the orchard which protected the crooked house from Muggle eyes, but still Harry felt his heart flutter. Ginny was there, she’d be home for the holidays now too.
“It’s weird being this near, but not going to visit,” Ron said, voicing something similar to Harry’s own thoughts.
They turned and headed up toward the other side of the hill; Harry, at Hermione’s insistence, hidden underneath the Invisibility Cloak. They walked for a few hours, the sun reaching its zenith and then descending downward among the rolling hills. At last Ron cried, “Aha! There it is!” and pointed toward the strangest looking house Harry had yet seen.
It stood on the top of a hill, rising vertically against the sky—a great black cylinder with a ghostly moon hanging behind it in the afternoon sky. It looked rather like a giant chess rook.
The garden gate creaked as they opened it and stepped up the zigzagging path leading to the front door. The garden was overgrown with magical plants Harry recognized from Herbology, and two ancient-looking crab apple trees framed the front door. A little owl with a hawk-like head peered down at them from one of the trees’ branches.
Harry took off the Cloak and handed it to Hermione, who dutifully stuffed it inside her magically-enlarged beaded bag. Hermione then knocked briskly three times on the front door with the brass knocker shaped like an eagle—Ravenclaw’s house animal.
Barely a heartbeat passed before the door was flung open and Xenophilius Lovegood stood before them, barefoot and wearing a stained nightshirt. His long white hair was dirty and unkempt, his eyes quite wide and overbearing.
“What is it? Who are you? What do you want?” He said in a high-pitched quavering voice, looking from Hermione to Ron and finally to Harry. His mouth then fell open in a perfect, comical O shape.
“Hello Mr. Lovegood,” Harry said, holding out his hand, “I’m Harry Potter.”
Xenophilius stood frozen; he did not reach out his own hand to shake.
“Would it be okay if we came in? There’s something we’d like to ask you,” Harry asked.
“I…I’m not sure…” Xenophilius swallowed.
“It won’t take long,” Harry promised.
“I—oh, alright then. Come in, quickly, quickly!”
They stepped over the threshold into a circular and cramped kitchen. In the center was a spiral wrought-iron staircase leading to the upper levels.
“You’d better come up,” Xenophilius said, looking extremely uncomfortable as he led the way up the stairs.
They reached the room above, which looked to be a sitting room and study room combined. Harry looked around for Luna was disappointed; she was not seated among the assortment of cushions and chairs, or standing among the piles of books and whirring objects.
“Now,” Xenophilius said, spinning abruptly around to face Harry, “Why have you come here, Mr. Potter?”
“I need your help,” Harry said.
Xenophilius swallowed anxiously, his eyes darting between the three of them, “Yes…you see…helping Harry Potter…rather dangerous…”
“Aren’t you the one printing in your magazine that it’s everyone’s duty to help Harry?” Ron said.
“Er—yes, I have expressed that view…however…” He wrung his hands, looking quite conflicted.
“Where’s Luna?” Hermione said, “Let’s see what she thinks.”
Xenophilius gulped, “Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She…she will like to see you. I will go and call her and then—yes, very well. I shall try to help you.”
He turned and disappeared down the spiral staircase and they heard the front door open and close. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other.
“Luna’s got ten times his guts,” Ron said.
“He’s probably worried what will happen to them if Death Eaters find out I was here,” Harry said.
They heard the door open and close once more and then Xenophilius appeared once more, his long legs encased in Wellington boots and carrying a tray of ill-assorted teacups and a steaming teapot in his arms.
“Luna’s down by Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not to be long, she’s caught nearly enough Plimpies to make soup for all of us,” he said as they found seats and he handed them tea cups and poured out the steaming tea—which was as deeply purple as beetroot juice.
“Now, how may I help you, Mr. Potter?” He said, crossing his legs and sipping the dark juice from his cup.
“Well,” Harry started, looking to Hermione who nodded at him encouragingly, “it’s about that symbol you were wearing at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. We were wondering what it meant.”
Xenophilius raised his eyebrows, “Are you referring to the Deathly Hallows?”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged a confused look.
“The Deathly Hallows?” Harry asked.
“You haven’t heard of them? I’m not surprised. I suppose your godfather hasn’t heard of them either, or your godfather’s new husband, if I am correct in their most unique union?”
Harry nodded.
Xenophilius waved a hand, “Just so. The Hallows. Very, very few Wizards believe in them,” Xenophilius sighed, “But there is nothing Dark about the Hallows—at least, not in the crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal themselves to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest.”
“I don’t understand,” Hermione pressed.
“Well, you see, believers seek the Deathly Hallows,” Xenophilius said.
“And what are they?” Harry asked.
Xenophilius set aside his tea cup, “I assume you are all familiar with ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers’?”
Harry said “No” as Hermione and Ron said “Yes.”
Xenophilius nodded, “The whole thing starts with ‘The Tale of the Three Brothers’…” He looked about the room, “I believe I have a copy here somewhere…”
“I’ve got a copy, Mr. Lovegood,” Hermione said, and she pulled out of her beaded bag The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
“Well then, why don’t you read it aloud?” Xenophilius said, his eyes becoming much more focused than they yet had been, “Much the best way to make sure we all understand.”
“Er…alright,” Hermione said a trifle nervously She opened the book and Harry saw the symbol that they were investigating headed the top of the page as she began to read.
“There were once three brothers, who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight—”
“Midnight,” Ron said, “Mum always said midnight.”
Hermione shot him an annoyed look.
“Sorry, I just thought it’s a bit spookier if it’s midnight!”
“Yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives,” Harry said.
Xenophilius did not seem to be paying attention, he was staring out the window at the sky as he said quietly, “Go on, Hermione.”
“In time, the brothers reached a river too deep too wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them.
Death was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. Death pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade Death itself.
So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a Wizard who had conquered Death! So Death turned to an elder tree on the banks of the river and fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.
The second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he would humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.
And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. He asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.”
Harry felt gooseflesh rise along his arms and neck.
“Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure that they had had, and admiring Death’s gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for their own destination.
The first brother traveled to a distant village and sought out a Wizard with whom he had a quarrel. With the Elder Wand, the oldest brother could not fail in the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother went to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death itself, and of how it made him invincible. That very night, another Wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the Elder Wand and slit the oldest brother’s throat for good measure.
And so Death took the first brother.
The second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took the stone that had the power to recall the dead and turned it thrice in hand. To his amazement, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared at once before him. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Driven mad by hopeless longing, the second brother killed himself so as to truly join her.
And so Death took the second brother.
But though Death searched for years and years, he was never able to find the third brother. It was only when the third brother had attained a great age that he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, departed his life as equals.”
Hermione closed the book.
“Well there you are,” Xenophilius said, turning at last away from the window, “Those are the Deathly Hallows.”
He picked up a quill and a piece of parchment from the overcrowded table beside him.
“The Elder Wand,” he said, drawing a vertical line down the parchment, “The Resurrection Stone,” he said, and added a circle around the line, “and the Cloak of Invisibility,” he concluded, enclosing both the line and the circle with a triangle, “Together, they make the Deathly Hallows. The children’s story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which united, will make the possessor Master of Death.”
“But…do you mean…that you believe these Hallows actually exist?” Hermione said slowly.
“Well, of course. Now, Invisibility Cloaks do exist, rare indeed, but the Third Hallow is a true Cloak of Invisibility. Not imbued with a Disillusionment Jinx or woven from Demiguise Hair, which effect will fade with time. We are talking about a cloak that renders the wearer entirely invisible eternally. There are stories of such a thing, and many of the Elder Wand, for the Elder Wand passes from hand to hand—the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner if they are to be truly Master of it. As for the Stone…” Xenophilius looked out the window again, “There is no proof that it doesn’t exist.”
Hermione opened her mouth, her brow furrowed, but Xenophilius spoke again, “Are you familiar with the Peverell family?”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione shook their heads.
“Many Questers believe that the Peverell family where the three brothers from the tale—Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus. They were the original owners of the Hallows, and come—most coincidentally—” and here he tore his gaze away from the window to look at Harry, “from Godric’s Hollow.”
Abruptly, Xenophilius jumped to his feet, “You will stay for dinner? Luna shall arrive shortly,” he said, picking up the tea tray and hurrying down the metal staircase.
“What do you think?” Harry asked Hermione as soon as they could hear Xenophilius moving about in the kitchen downstairs.
“Oh, it’s a pile of rubbish, isn’t it? This can’t be what the symbol really means. This must be his weird take on it.”
“Still…” Harry furrowed his brow, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the two-way mirror, “The Peverell family came from Godric’s Hollow, and so did Dumbledore and Grindelwald…”
Ron leaned forward and tapped the mirror with his wand for Harry. It swirled for a moment before revealing two faces, illuminated by sunset and street lamps. Sirius and Remus appeared to be standing in an alley beside a darkening village road.
“Are you at the Lovegood’s?” Sirius asked at once.
“Yes,” Harry said, “and he told us about the Deathly Hallows…”
Harry repeated to his guardians what Xenophilius had told them, finishing by saying, “But the Cloak...the one Mr. Lovegood and the tale described…it sounds a lot like my Cloak. And it was given to me by my dad…”
Remus nodded, his brow furrowing, “And Fleamont passed the Cloak down to James…”
Hermione had wondered around the cluttered circular room, stopping at one of the whirring objects. It was large and wooden, and seemed to be full of sheets of colorful paper.
“Sirius…Remus…” Hermione said quietly, her voice shaking but carrying, “Can you Apparate here?”
She lifted up one of the pieces of paper, revealing the front page of The Quibbler emblazoned with the words UNDESIRABLE NUMBER ONE. Harry’s picture was featured below.
“On our way,” Remus said, his voice clipped and hard.
Harry put down the mirror, and turned to see Xenophilius standing at the top of the stairs, licking his lips.
“They took my Luna,” Xenophilius whispered, “Because of what I’ve been writing. They took my Luna and I don’t know where she is, what they’ve done to her. But they might give her back to me if I—if—“
“Hand over Harry?” Hermione said coldly.
But Xenophilius suddenly looked ghastly—as if he were a century old—his lips drew back into a dreadful leer, “They will be here at any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must leave.”
But Harry heard the sound of the door opening, two soft cracks and a second later, a grating voice said from behind Xenophilius, “Don’t make us hurt you.”
Sirius stood with his arm raised, wand pointed directly at Xenophilius’ chest. His face was set as stone, his dark eyes shining. Xenophilius’ hand jerked toward his pocket, and Sirius flicked his wrist like a whip and the non-verbal Body Bind Spell bound the older man instantly. Remus was scanning the room, his face white, his eyes moving to the windows. A heartbeat passed before his eyes snapped to Harry’s, “GO! NOW!”
Figures on broomsticks were soaring past the windows. Harry grabbed Ron’s hand, and Ron reached for Hermione’s—she dove among the clutter toward them as Sirius and Remus cast soundless Shield Charms and Silencing Jinxes, spinning their bodies so as to stand back-to-back, their wands high. Hermione’s hand met Ron’s and then she twisted in mid-air, dragging Ron and Harry along with her into the darkness.