A Wand
Harry should have realised, perhaps, that the second Dumbledore had read his bloody letter that he would want to speak to them. Of course he would want them to come to his office for a meeting, immediately after dinner. A meeting that would no doubt be filled with the old coot trying to manipulate them into not wanting the wand, and plenty a “my boy,” his grandfatherly act shining most of the way through.
But there they were, him and George, standing outside the stairwell to the Headmaster’s office, looking at the gargoyle that protected it with apprehension and yet a little excitement too.
“We can do this, right?” George said, his eyes alight with many emotions, but excitement seemed to be the one shining through the most.
“Yes. He is an old man who has a habit of underestimating everyone and everything. He doesn’t know us. He doesn’t know how to manipulate us. He doesn’t know that he can’t manipulate us anymore. We’ll be just fine,” Harry said with a determined nod.
George nodded in return, “Liquorice Allsorts,” he said boldly, “What the fuck are liquorice allsorts?” he asked as they stepped onto the now moving stairs and let them take the both of them up to the office door.
“Some muggle sweets made of liquorice that many love and many hate,” Harry shrugged, “I’ve never had them myself so I’m not able to tell you my opinions, but I know my aunt and uncle loved them and my cousin hated them, and my cousin doesn’t, didn’t, really hate any food so that is saying something,”
Harry knocked on the wooden door and it only took a second for the Headmaster to respond, “Come in, my boys,” he said, his voice somehow sounding both hard and cheery.
Harry opened the door and they stepped in to find the old man sitting at his desk, smiling at them, eyes twinkling as he gestured to the two seats in front of him, and they sat in them.
“You wished to speak to us, Headmaster?” Harry said, as politely as he could.
“Yes, about the letter you sent me. My boys, how did you come upon the knowledge that I have the wand your ancestor owned?” the old man said, his voice gentle but his eyes hard.
“It wasn’t exactly difficult to deduce once we knew its history, sir,” George said.
“We knew that Grindelwald stole it from Gregorovitch, and we know that you defeated Grindelwald. So we could only assume that you either had it, or you knew who did. Then we saw you use your wand and realised that it was, indeed, that of our ancestors,” Harry said.
“Right,” Dumbledore said, nodding and Harry noticed his fist clench a little also, “My boys, this is a very powerful, very dangerous wand. I don’t believe you truly understand its capabilities, its strength, nor have the strength to wield it. Do you truly think it wise for this wand to be in the hands of two teenagers? Surely you have heard the stories,” the old man said.
“Of course we have,” Harry said, “However, I don’t believe it is for you to decide who has this wand when it belonged to our ancestor and according to the ways of our world, that wand is our heirloom, and belongs to us,”
“If you don’t give it to us, we can, of course, go about getting it back legally,” George said, raising his eyebrow, “I am sure the goblins would love to help us with that, and our lawyers, even, perhaps, some of the members of the Wizengamot who are really supportive of the rights of pureblood families,”
“Surely it is safer for it not to move hands again,” Dumbledore said, “No one is going to attack me for the wand because no one knows I have it,”
“People could know that you have it, though. They could learn. All it takes is for one person to leak that Grindelwald had the thing and then it won’t take long for people to deduce that you now have it, and there are plenty of greedy people out there, Headmaster. Greedy people who won’t have any problems with coming after an old man in order to get what they want,” Harry said, trying not to smirk at the look in the old man’s eyes.
“We could always win it from you ourselves, of course,” George said, his lips lifting up in the corners, “Apparently you don’t need to kill the person in order to be its Master. Unless you aren’t its true Master, which would mean that Grindelwald also wasn’t its true Master. But, I do believe, that even if we just disarm you we would be the true Masters because we do, in fact, own the wand. Whether you like it or not,”
“Oh, wait,” Harry said gleefully, “I do believe that so long as we’re alive, along with anyone that has our blood, and the family magics, the Hallows don’t work to their full capacity for whoever is using them. Especially if they are not part of the family. You aren’t a descendant of the Peverells, are you, sir? I do believe the Dumbledores are a rather modern family, aren’t they? They’ve only been around for a good few hundred years. The Potters and Tom Riddle may have minor successes with the Hallows, but even they cannot master them truly unless they have the family magics from the Peverells. The wand works for you, sure, but how much of that is the wand's power, and how much of it is your own? Especially since you didn’t really defeat Grindelwald did you?”
“Does it really matter whether I am the true Master of the wand so long as your heirloom is safe?” Dumbledore said, practically grinding his teeth.
“Hm, it may be safe with you, but it still isn’t yours. Or do you think it is okay to take things from others? As Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot isn’t it your job to uphold the law? To make sure that us wixen behave accordingly? You keeping our heirloom, even if to keep it safe, when we have kindly asked for you to return it so we can keep it safe in our own, heavily warded home isn’t you behaving accordingly, is it? You aren’t upholding the law by keeping something that doesn’t belong to you. Something that was stolen from the last Master of it, too,” Harry said, folding his hands on his lap as he crossed his legs.
“Harry, my boy,” Dumbledore said, a sigh in his voice.
“I don’t believe I have given you permission to call me by name, sir, especially the nickname that only friends can call me. It’s not very professional, is it? Calling a student by their given name rather than their surname? Although, saying that, it also isn’t very professional for us to be speaking to the Headmaster of our school without the presence of a teacher, such as our Head of House. You know, someone who sees us a lot more than you do as someone who doesn’t actually teach us anything,” Harry said, his lips twitching up at the look of icy fire in the man’s eyes, “‘My boy,” also isn’t a very professional thing to say to children who aren’t being protected by a responsible adult. I know we are teenagers, but we are still underage, you shouldn’t be speaking to us without either a guardian, or our Head of House in attendance. And you certainly shouldn’t be calling us, ‘my boy,’”
The old man’s hand twitched, his jaw clenched minimally, “What are you implying, Mr Peverell?”
“Nothing, Headmaster Dumbledore. I am just reminding you of your duties to protect the students in your care. You may not be happy with the letter we wrote you asking, kindly, for our heirloom to be returned to us. However, it is still your responsibility to make sure the rules are followed. I have read the rules of this school, and it clearly states that if a student is to have a meeting with the Head, they need to have either their parent, guardian, Head of House, or another teacher present to act in the student’s best interests. Especially if the student is underage, as we are. And, in the case of our wand, I do believe you have no choice but to give it to us. Either you do so now, or we will bring in the goblins, the aurors and anyone else we see fit, and they will return it to us. So, I do believe it will be far better for you and your reputation if you were just to return it to us,”
Harry smirked as the old man’s hand twitched again.
“I do believe that you also aren’t meant to get involved in our family or personal lives,” George said, “You are only meant to keep an eye on our education, and speak to us regarding our education inside these walls. Unless we come to you, with our Head of House, parent or guardian, or a healer, to discuss something personal with you. We did write to you, yes, but all you have to do is give us our wand, not try and get us to change our minds. Our minds are very set on getting our heirloom back, and we will, no matter what it takes to do so,”
Harry smiled as the Headmaster, for a brief moment, looked angry, defeated even, only to then mask that with a grandfatherly look and twinkling eyes that did nothing to hide the tenseness in the wrinkles around his mouth but he would let the man believe they did, for now.
“I want you boys to be safe, I hope you know that. Is there any way you could take me to see where you plan to keep the wand? Just so I know that it, and you both, will be safe?” he said, trying to sound kind, caring.
“I don’t think us showing the Headmaster of our school where we live, without another adult, is considered proper, sir,” Harry said, “It especially won’t sound good if we do, in fact, need to bring any authorities in to get our wand back. Or if we duel, you trial us, and then we use it in our defense. You see, before our parents died, they made sure we knew all our rights. They made sure we knew the laws, and everything else. And, well, we are always going to be prepared. No matter what the situation. Even if it is just a friendly meeting, with our Headmaster, to discuss the giving back of our heirloom,”
“Well, it’s not as if you can take it straight there without a Professor at this school guiding you,” Dumbledore said, pressing the issue, “And I think we can all agree that it will be much safer, for everyone in this school, if it was either in safe hands, or not here,”
“I do believe we have very safe hands,” George said, offended, “Do we seem the type to go around hurting people?”
“That is not what I was saying Mr Peverell,” Dumbledore said calmly.
“That’s what it sounded like, sir,” Harry said, raising an eyebrow, “I mean, I know you don’t like the House of Slytherin, but not all of us are bad. We are just children after all,”
“In any case, though, sir, I do believe that it is none of your business what we choose to do with our heirloom. You have nothing to do with our family. You aren’t part of it. You aren’t in charge of it. You aren’t anything to do with us. Just our Headmaster,” George said.
“I need to make sure that the students in this school are safe from the dangers of this wand,” the old man said fiercely.
“A wand is only as dangerous as the person wielding it commands it to be. Do you believe us capable of hurting others if not in defense of ourselves and the people we care about? Especially when the vast majority of the people in this castle are children? You think we would hurt them?” George said.
“And, yes, that is your job, isn’t it. Or a large part of it anyway. Keeping the people here safe. And yet you fail to do so, unless they are Gryffindors, and even then you drag them into a war, that should have nothing to do with them because they are children. You make them think that it is okay to hurt others. You let them get away with it. You let them get away with hurting the children in these walls, and that is a slippery slope that leads to many a crime being committed, and those Gryffindors of yours being tried by the law, being hurt in return and so much more. It is your job to keep everyone in this castle safe, and yet no one here is safe. From things on the outside or on the inside. You send children back to their abusive family members. You let bullying get worse. You treat the children unfairly. You’re meant to be unbiased and you clearly aren’t. You let rifts build that turn into wars. And so much more. So, how about you focus on your job, and doing it right… You know, in case the wrong people hear about how things actually are in this school… And we focus on keeping our heirloom safe,” Harry said.
“I perhaps should remind you, sir, that you may hold a lot of power, magically and politically, but it is only a matter of time before we Peverells take over. People know we’re back in the country. They know we are going to be working our way up. We have friends. We have goblins. We have others. And we aren’t afraid to use them to get back our heirlooms, and to make sure the children in this school are safe, and happy, and healthy, and all the things you and the rest of the staff here should be making sure of,” George said.
Harry wondered if they were taking this meeting too far, but he also knew they couldn’t help it. If not for this man then many people they care about wouldn’t have died. And well, they used to be Gryffindors. It can take a while to undo the behaviours, the personality, the temperament that had been drilled into you for years of your life.
And if they were taking things too far, and it came back to bite them, well, they would have two sets of the Hallows to help them work things to their favour. And their goblin friends. Maybe some others also if they could gather some more allies.
“We’ll make sure the children are safe, Headmaster,” Harry said kindly, “Don’t you worry about that. But, please, can we have our heirloom back? Before we actually do call in our goblin friends,”
And they would, too. They would make sure that every child in this castle was safe. From everyone and everything. Even the man in front of them.
Especially the man in front of them.
The man’s hand twitched as he took the wand out of the holster on his forearm and held it out to them. They beamed kindly at him as George reached out and took the wand from the old, pale hands, relishing in the warmth as more of the family magics washed over him. Harry watched the glow of family magics surrounding his brother with a smile, especially as he saw the mostly hidden look of anger in the old man’s eyes.
“Thank you, Headmaster,” Harry said overly sweetly, “We shall be going now. I hope you have a wonderful evening. Sleep tight,”
He and George stood and left the room with a bow to the man, really wanting to put a spark of fun into their lives, and relishing in the look the man gave them before they closed the door.
They made it to the Room of Requirement, where their family was waiting for them, before they cracked. Laughing for several minutes before they relayed everything to everyone with a smirk, especially as they both removed copies of their memories of the meeting and stored them, and a muggle recording device that Fred and George had made work with magic into a secure box, which would go into Harry’s trunk when they got back to their dorm.
And they changed the looks of both of the Elder wands to appear like the ones they had been using so that no one would be able to tell they were using the stronger wands. Especially the Headmaster.
They would keep them in the holsters on their legs, whilst the ones they had been using were placed into the ones on their arms. It was always good to have back-up. Powerful back-up.