The Deathly Hallows
The moment of stunned silence following Snape’s abrupt disappearance stretches out into an awkward one and Harry and Ron glances sideways at each other, both blushing furiously and neither wanting to be the first to speak. Harry wonders how much of what the Horcrux had said that Ron actually heard…I may have confessed to an innocent schoolboy crush on you… Harry swallows thickly, shooting another glance at his friend who is now looking everywhere but in Harry’s direction. With a sinking feeling, Harry is sure that his friend heard it all, sure he knows now… knows Harry’s deepest, darkest secret… I have to say something to him, Harry thinks desperately, but his mouth refuses to co-operate.
Finally, Ron looks over at the pool instead and with a deep breath he marches over to it. Harry can’t help but to wonder if his best friend is so unwilling to face this conversation that he would rather dive into a freezing pool of water… Ron kicks off his boots and pulls his sweater off, then dives in without as much as a glance in Harry’s direction.
Harry shivers as his sense memory recalls the temperature of the water, and he pulls Snape’s cloak tighter around himself as he waits for his friend to re-emerge. It only takes Ron a couple of seconds to grab the Sword of Gryffindor from the bottom of the pool and then he shoots up through the hole in the ice and gasps desperately. For a brief moment he struggles for purchase on the slippery ice, but then he heaves himself out of the water and quickly grabs his sweater with shaking hands. Harry gingerly gets to his feet, his legs screaming in pain as he regains blood circulation.
Ron struggles to get his wet arms into the sweater and then pulls it down with trembling hands. It bunches a little around his waist. Dark patches appearing where the water from his torso stains the threadbare textile.
”You alright?” Harry asks.
”Ye- eah- I- I’m fine…” Ron forces out through his chattering teeth, still not looking directly at Harry.
All relief that had flooded Harry at the sight of his best friend leaves him in a whoosh and instead he remembers exactly how angry he has been with him ever since he up and left him and Hermoine. He recalls all the hurtful things that he said before he stormed off, the ugly, bitter scowl that had marred his red face.
”What are you doing here anyway?” he barks.
Ron startles and finally meets his eyes. Harry’s newfound rage immediately deflates at the regret that shines clearly from his friend’s face, and he drops his own gaze to the ground.
”I- I- I w-wanted t-to c-come back —” Ron stammers through the rattling of his teeth. ”Just as s-s-soon as I left…”
”Alright”, Harry mumbles and starts pulling his boots back on to have something, anything, to focus on other than the emotions emanating in waves from his friend.
It takes him the good part of ten minutes to tie his laces, his fingers still numb from the cold. By the time he’s done, Ron looks positively miserable.
”I’m glad you came back”, Harry murmurs finally. ”We’ve missed you. Hermione especially. But that’s between the two of you…”
Ron seems to be studying the rubies on the hilt of the Sword of Gryffindor when Harry glances up, but his face is bright red and there’s a new emotion in his eyes. Hope, Harry decides. Hope and fear, in equal measures.
They start making their way back through the forest, neither of them saying anything else until they can glimpse the moss green of the tent through the grey columns of the trees. Ron ambles to a stop and Harry automatically slows down as well and turns to look at his friend.
”Before we —” Ron cuts himself off and shoots a glance at the tent over Harry’s shoulder, then meets his eyes. ”Should we talk about what just happened? I mean, with — with Snape…”
”What?” Harry says, keenly aware that he’s become defensive and tries to relax. ”He just showed up and saved me. I don’t know what else to tell you.”
Ron frowns, ”He saved you?”
”Yeah. From drowning”, Harry says shortly, jutting his chin up defiantly as he waits for the tirade of slimy, murdering git that he is sure to come.
”He saved you”, Ron says again, and it’s barely a question this time.
”Yeah, he saved my life”, Harry says anyway. ”Again. And then he destroyed the Horcrux. What else do you want me to say?”
”Mate…” Ron murmurs and holds out a hand as if to calm, which makes Harry bristle further because he is bloody calm, and he opens his mouth to snap just that to Ron, but before he can get the words out, Ron’s hand goes up further as if to say, Hey, no offense, ”No, really, mate, I’m not… I’m not having a go… I’m just in shock — aren’t you shocked? — we all thought Snape was a traitor, didn’t we? So —”
”So What?”
”So, why aren’t you surprised that he showed up from out of nowhere and saved your life out here in the middle of nowhere and then helped us destroy a bloody Horcrux, when he’s supposed to be on the side of You-Know-Who?”
”I was…” Harry mumbles. ”I…”
He sighs heavily, and then decides to tell Ron about the dream that turned out not to have been a dream at all. He skims over the kissing part, and just tells Ron that Snape had been leaning over him and whispering his name, and later when he woke up properly he’d found the Potions book on the floor next to the bed.
”But… But why would he risk everything just to give you that book? And why was he trying to wake you if he was just going to cast a sleeping spell on you again?”
”Er… I’m not sure… ” Harry lies, feeling the tips of his ears grow hot.
Ron groans suddenly and shoves Harry half-heartedly in the chest. The familiarity of it strikes Harry with such force that he almost forgets where they are and what they’re talking about, and after having staggered back a step, he swats at Ron’s arm just as playfully.
”What?” he demands.
”You kissed him, didn’t you?” Ron demands.
Harry’s stomach plummets and he stares aghast at his friend. His brain is screaming at at him to come up with a lie, an excuse, a diversion, but all he can do is blink stupidly. Ron groans again.
”I can’t believe you have a thing for that greasy git —!”
”H-Hey —” Harry starts protesting feebly.
”You kissed Snape!” Ron exclaims and gives him a miserable look. ”Mate, that’s — that’s just — why? Why would you do that?”
”I thought I was dreaming —”
”Why would you be dreaming about kissing Snape? Is that who you kept having sex dreams about at school? Oh, man, that is just… that’s gross! And —!”
He points an accusating finger at Harry.
”All those things that the Horcrux said, about you being attracted to —”
”I’m not attracted to Malfoy!” Harry says firmly.
”What?” Ron frowns in confusion. ”No. No, I know that. But the part about confessing your feelings for the git… Oh, please, tell me you didn’t…”
”I might have mentioned having a crush on him”, Harry mutters. ”But that was before — before that night —!”
”Before!” Ron yelps. ”How long have you fancied him?”
”Er… Since I stayed with him last summer… But I didn’t realise it at first! I didn’t even know I was into blokes before then so… it took me a while to work it out…”
”Bloody Hell… And you still… you know, fancy him? You still… like him?”
Harry hasn’t even had time to ask that question of himself, but now that Ron puts him on the spot the answer is clear as ice. He nods, giving Ron a sheepish look.
Ron just shakes his head like Harry has just disappointed him so deeply he can’t even find the words to berate him with. But then his shoulders sag slightly and he sighs.
”Well”, he says. ”I don’t get it. But… At least we know he’s on our side now. So… it could have been worse, I suppose…”
Harry feels a surge of relief and gives his friend a tentative half-smile. Ron shrugs again, then reaches out and pulls Harry into a one-armed hug.
”Harry? Harry what —?” Hermione’s muffled voice calls out and the boys spring apart.
They can see her just outside the tent, looking around in worry and wringing her hands.
”Come on”, Harry says.
They hurry over to Hermione, who stumbles back with a gasp when she sees Ron. He gives her a weak but hopeful smile and starts raising his arms as if getting ready for a hug when she lurches forward and immediately starts slapping and punching every bit of him that she can reach. The Sword of Gryffindor clatters to the frozen ground as Ron tries to shield himself from her blows.
”Ouch — ow — what’re you — Hermione — OW!”
”You — complete — arse — Ronald — Weasley!”
Harry stays rooted to the spot for a moment, unsure whether he should try and break up the fight. But then he decides it’s probably better if he doesn’t get involved and backs away from his two friends.
”Ow! Gerroff —!”
”You — crawl — back — here —!”
”Her- Hermione — ouch —!”
”— after — weeks — and weeks — oh! Where is my wands?”
Harry startles as Hermione suddenly stops assaulting Ron and whirls around to face him instead, holding out her hand expectantly. Her eyes are flashing and her hair seems even frizzier than usual, as if she was literally shooting sparks and her hair had gone static from it.
”Protego!” he says quickly, casting the charm instinctively around Ron and himself.
The force of it knocks Hermione backwards and she sits down hard on the ground before immediately scrambling to her feet again.
”Hermione, calm —!”
”I will not calm down!” she screams at him. ”Give me back my wand, Harry! Give it to me!”
”Hermione, will you please —”
”Don’t you tell me what to do, Harry Potter! Don’t you dare! And you —!”
She rounds on Ron again, who stumbles back in fear despite the protection of the Shield Charm Harry has cast between them and Hermione.
”I came running after you!” Hermione screeches, eyes shining with unshed tears. ”I called you! I begged you to come back!”
”I know”, Ron says in a small, quivering voice. ”I’m sorry, Hermione, I’m really —”
”Oh, you’re sorry, are you? You come back after weeks — weeks — and you think it’s all going to be all right if you just say sorry?”
”Hermione —” Harry tries to mediate again.
”No!” she bellows. ”It’s been weeks! We could have been dead for all he knew —!”
”I knew you weren’t dead!” Ron bellows back, his ears red. ”Harry’s all over the Prophet, all over the the radio, they’re looking for you everywhere, all these rumours and mental stories, I knew I’d hear straight away if you were dead, you don’t know what it’s been like —”
”What it’s been like? For you?” Hermione screams, her voice more shrill than Harry has ever heard it before.
”I wanted to come back the minute I’d Disapparated”, Ron says and steps as close to her as the Shield Charm will allow, his eyes beseeching. ”But I walked straight into a gang of Snatchers, Hermione, and I couldn’t go anywhere!”
”A gang of what?” Harry interjects.
”Snatchers”, Ron repeats, without tearing his gaze away from Hermione. ”They’re everywhere. Gangs trying to earn gold by rounding up Muggle-borns and blood-traitors. There’s a reward from the Ministry for everyone captured, see. I was on my own and I look like I might be school age, so they got really excited, thought I was a Muggle-born in hiding. I had to talk really fast to get out of being dragged to the Ministry, I’ll tell you…”
”What did you tell them?” Harry asks curiously, when it becomes clear that Hermione won’t be saying anything else anytime soon.
”Told them I was Stan Shunpike. First person I could think of… They weren’t the brightest though, but they did start fighting amongst themselves over whether I was Stan or not… Two of them got into a real scuffle, and while they were all distracted I punched the guy holding me in the stomach, grabbed his wand and Disarmed the bloke who had my wand, then I Disapparated again… I didn’t do it so well, Splinched myself again…”
He holds up his hand and Harry notices two fingernails missing that he hadn’t seen before. Hermione merely raises an eyebrow coldly.
”Anyway”, Ron says. ”By the time I found my way back to the riverbank, you’d gone…”
”Gosh, what a gripping story”, Hermione says airily, but her eyes are still flashing behind the layer of still unshed tears. ”You must have been terrified. Meanwhile, Harry and I went to Godric’s Hollow, and let’s think, what happened to us there Harry? Oh yes, You-Know-Who’s snake turned up and nearly killed us both — ”
Ron looks stricken and opens his mouth to say something, but Hermione ploughs on in an even louder voice.
”And then You-Know-Who himself arrived and only missed us by seconds —!”
”What!” Ron gasps, and looks over at Harry for confirmation and Harry gives him a small nod.
”Imagine losing fingernails, Harry!” Hermione continues scatchingly. ”That really puts our suffering into perspective, doesn’t it! One thing I would like to know though, how exactly did you find us? We need to know so we can prevent anyone else we don’t want to see from finding us!”
Ron glares at her, then pulls a small silver object from his jeans pocket.
”This”, he says simply.
”Dumbledore’s Deluminator?” she says, surprised.
”It doesn’t just turn the lights on and off”, Ron tells them both. ”I don’t know how it works exactly, or why it happened then and not any other time, because I’ve been wanting to come back ever since I left, but I was listening to the radio really early on Christmas morning and I heard… well, I heard you…”
”You heard me on the radio?” Hermione asks incredulously.
”No, not on the radio. From my pocket. You voice… it came out of the Deluminator.”
”And what exactly did I say?” Hermione says, clearly trying to keep her tone sarcastic but a bit of curiosity was shining through now.
”My name”, he says simply. ”And something about a wand…”
Harry remembers the brief conversation he and Hermione had had about Harry’s broken wand when he came to in the tent; that had been the first time either of them had mentioned Ron by name since he left them. Hermione, whose face is now burning red, seems to have come to the same conclusion because she shoots Harry a stricken look before resolutely looking away again.
”So I took it out”, Ron continues. ”It didn’t look different or anything, but I was sure I’d heard you. So I clicked it. All the lights went out in the room, but another light appeared just outside my window… It was like aball of light, kind of pulsing and sort of blue like the light around a Portkey, you know?”
”Yeah”, Harry and Hermione automatically murmur together.
”I grabbed my stuff and went out into the garden, and the ball of light was waiting for me, and when I came out it sort of bobbed along a bit and I followed it behind this shed and then it… well, it went inside me. Into my chest”, he touches his hand to heart. ”I could feel it, it was hot. And once it was inside me I just knew what I was supposed to do. I Disapparated and came out on the side of a hill, there was snow everywhere…”
”We were there!” Harry exclaims. ”We spent two nights there, and the second night I was sure I heard someone moving around and calling out!”
”Yeah, that would have been me”, Ron says. ”Well, your protective spells work, anyway… I couldn’t see or hear you. But I knew you must be around, so I got my sleeping bag out and decided to wait. I figured you’d have to show yourself when you were packing up the tent at least.”
”We’ve been Disapparating under the Invisibility Cloak as an extra precaution since — ” Hermione cuts herself off and glances over at Harry quickly, and he realises she must have been about to mention Snape but not knowing that he’d already told Ron about it, she swiftly comes up with something else. ”Well, since we’d heard someone blundering about…”
”Yeah, when it started to get dark I realised I must have missed you, so I got the Deluminator out again. When I Disapparated this time, I arrived here in these woods. I still couldn’t see you, so again I just had to wait and hope that one of you would show yourself, and then Harry did — well, I saw the doe first, obviously —”
”You saw the doe?” Harry says.
”The what?” Hermione demands.
”Um, let’s go inside”, Harry says quickly. ”It’s a long story, and Ron and I are both freezing… are you… going to start throwing punches again?” he adds cautiously.
Hermione sniffs indignantly, then whirls around and storms back inside the tent. Ron and Harry exchange a wary look, then follow her.
Hermione is staring wide-eyed between the two of them as Harry finishes the story, then blinks rapidly a few times as if trying to bat the images away again.
”Snape… saved your life…” she all but whispers. ”Oh, Harry…”
He lets a tentative smile twitch into place and nods minutely, ”Yeah, he’s on our side. Somehow. I don’t understand it, I mean he did kill Dumbledore, but… There must be some explanation. Because he’s definitely on our side, not Vol—”
”No!” Ron gasps suddenly and smacks his hand hard against Harry’s face and knocks his glasses askew.
”What— the Hell—” Harry mumbles against his palm before wrenching away from his grasp.
”I almost forgot to tell you!” Ron says, deathly pale. ”You can’t say that name. The Death Eaters have put a Taboo on it. Anyone says You-Know-Who’s name and they’re alerted immediately. That’s how they found us so quickly after the wedding, remember?”
”Oh shit…” Harry mumbles.
”Yeah… So, just… You-Know-Who, from now on, okay?” Ron says, then glances over at Hermione with a suspiscious look. ”Hey, you don’t seem at all surprised about this Harry fancying Snape business. You already knew, didn’t you? Harry told you, didn’t he?”
Ron turns back to Harry with an accusating look, ”You told her, but not me!”
”So what if he did!” Hermione snarls. ”What would you have done if he’d told you? How would you have reacted?”
Ron frowns, ”Well, I might not have taken it completely in stride, I mean it’s bloody Snape, innit — But I wouldn’t have had a problem with it or anything! — I wouldn’t!”
Hermione merely sniffs derisively.
”Look, guys, it doesn’t matter”, Harry says. ”We’re one Horcrux down, and we have the Sword. This is great news. We shouldn’t be fighting —”
Hermione just shakes her head and stalks over to her bed and burrows under the blankets without another word. Harry and Ron exchange a look, but Ron smiles a little and shrugs.
”To be honest, I expected worse”, he says quietly. ”Remember those birds she set on me in Fourth Year?”
”I still haven’t ruled it out!” Hermione’s muffled voice comes from beneath her blankets.
Harry stifles a smile and gives Ron a gentle pat on the shoulder before going to his own bunk. Ron gestures vaguely to the opening of the tent, offering to take over the watch.
Harry pulls out the Marauder’s Map and murmurs ”I solemnly swear that I am up to no good”, then holds his breath as the scarlet outline of Hogwarts stretches out like intricate ink stains on the parchment. He quickly scans the Great Hall for any sign of the little black dot labelled Severus Snape but it seems breakfast is nearing its end, so he flips one of the folds of the Map until he can see the Headmaster’s Office instead, and there, to his immense relief, Snape is sitting at his desk.
He made it back alright, Harry thinks happily and feels a faint flutter in his belly.
For the first time in a long time, Harry allows himself to think of Severus and his silky hair and even silkier voice, and he doesn’t even feel guilty about it. Because Severus is on our side, he thinks and his heart leaps with joy.
*
Harry offers to take the first watch and sits down in the tent opening, practising with the blackthorn wand that Ron had taken from one of the Snatchers by levitating pebbles at his feet and although he can get the spell to work properly, his magic feels clumsy with this new and unfamiliar wand. Still, he thinks, better to have a less powerful wand than no wand at all.
Hermione is lying in her bed reading The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore and Ron is fiddling with a Wireless, trying to tune into a particular programme that he tells Harry is different from the others.
”This one tells the news as it really is. All the others are on You-Know-Who’s side and following the Ministry line, but this one… Well, just wait ’til you hear it, it’s brilliant… Only, they can’t broadcast every night, because they have to keep changing their location in case of a raid, and also you need a password to tune in, problem is I missed the last one…”
He keeps tapping the Wireless with his wand while muttering different possible passwords under his breath, once in a while throwing cautious looks over at Hermione, clearly wary of an angry outburst, but she is still ignoring him.
After a while, she hops down from her bunk however and Ron immediately stops tapping the Wireless just in case. Hermione doesn’t even look his way however, instead she walks over to Harry.
”We need to talk”, she says seriously.
”Why?” he says and eyes the book in her hand warily, knowing there’s supposed to be a chapter on him in there and he really doesn’t want to hear what Rita Skeeter thinks of his relationship with Dumbledore.
”I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood”, Hermione says, surprising him.
”Er — why?”
”It’s the mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this…”
She shows him the book and Harry notices a photograph of the original letter from Dumbledore to Grindelwald and his stomach turns unpleasantly.
”The signature, Harry”, Hermione says. ”Look at the signature!”
He can’t tell what she’s talking about at first, but lifting the blackthorn wand and casting a Lumos and peering more closely at the signature he realises that Dumbledore had replaced the A in Albus with that triangular symbol.
”It keeps cropping up doesn’t it!” Hermione insists.
Harry turns back around and looks out into the darkness. He’s so sick and tired of trying to decipher possible clues that Dumbledore might or might not have left them. Why couldn’t he just have told me some of this stuff while he was alive? he thinks furiously. All those meetings in his office, looking at memories together, he could just have told me!
Snape would have told me, he thinks suddenly and the thought surprises him. But all the same, he knows it to be true, somehow, he just knows… Thinking back to that night by the pool, the stress in the man’s face when he’d been forced to come face to face with Harry sooner than he’d planned… Because Harry had bungled everything up, forcing him to make himself known… Clearly he’d wanted to tell me everything, but there wasn’t time, he even said so himself, Harry thinks. He’d said something about the Carrows noticing his absence from Hogwarts, and that he didn’t have time to answer questions — stupid questions, Harry corrects himself with a wry smile; why embelish…
”Harry?” Hermione says tentatively, and his smile slips away again.
”No”, he says. ”We don’t need another Godric’s Hollow. We talked ourselves into going there and —”
”But it keeps appearing, Harry! A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald and Godric’s Hollow? Come on, this must be important! And it’s not like we can ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald, I don’t even know if Grindelwald is still alive, but we know that Mr. Lovegood wore the symbol at the wedding and we can talk to him!”
”I think Hermione is right”, Ron pipes up from behind them. ”We should go talk to Lovegood!”
Harry barely refrains from rolling his eyes. Hermione huffs a little to herself.
”It won’t be like Godric’s Hollow”, Ron adds. ”Lovegood’s on our side, Harry. The Quibbler keeps telling everyone they’ve got to help you!”
”I’m sure this is important”, Hermione says earnestly.
”If it was, don’t you think Dumbledore would have told me?” Harry says, but it rings hollow even to his own ears, because Dumbledore hadn’t told him nearly anything, had he?
”Maybe… Maybe it’s something that you need to find out for yourself?” Hermione suggests vaguely and Harry gets the sense that she isn’t even buying that herself.
”Yeah, that makes sense!” Ron pipes up again.
”No, it doesn’t!” Hermione snaps at him. ”But I still think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood.”
”Why don’t we vote on it?” Ron suggests, and Harry does roll his eyes this time.
”Fine, we’ll go”, he mutters and jabs at a pebble with the tip of his wand, accidentally causing it to crumble.
*
The wind on top of the hill whips their hair and clothes. Harry has to clutch the Invisibility Cloak, that Hermione has forced him to wear, tightly in both hands so that it doesn’t fly off him. But as they reach the top of the zigzagging path, Hermione suggests he take the Cloak off again.
”It’s you Mr. Lovegood wants to help, not us”, she says.
After having stowed his Cloak into her beaded bag, Hermione raps on the front door of the weird looking house, forgoing the eagle-shaped knocker and simply rapping her knuckles against the wood. The door creaks open almost immediately and a barefoot man wearing a stained nightshirt sticks his head out and peers down at them suspiciously. His long, white, candyfloss hair is dirty and unkempt, Harry notices and there are shadows under his eyes.
”What? What is it? Who are you? What do you want?” he cries, looking first at Hermoine, then Ron and then finally Harry and his eyes widen in recognition.
”Hello, Mr. Lovegood”, Harry says politely, extending his hand in greeting. ”I’m Harry, Harry Potter.”
Xenophilius’ non-lazy eye immediately shoots up to the lightening bolt scar on Harry’s forehead and he seems to clutch the door harder. He doesn’t shake Harry’s hand, and Harry feels a bit disappointed. He’s not sure what he’d expected, but it wasn’t this.
”Is it okay if we come in for a minute? There’s something we’d like to ask you…”
Xenophilius mumbles something to himself, his gaze scanning the garden nervously.
”It won’t take long”, Harry insists.
”I — oh, all right then. Come in, quickly. Quickly!”
He ushers all three of them over the threshold and then slams the door shut again, locking several bolts as soon as it’s closed.
Harry looks around at the circular kitchen that they’ve entered into and is only mildly surprised at the weird but colourful decor, this is Luna’s home after all, so nothing should really have surprised him. Speaking of which, he thinks and glances up at the ceiling. From the floor above a lot of clanging and clattering can be heard and he wonders what Luna is doing up there. It’s still Christmas hols after all, so she should be home and he knows she and her dad live alone, her mother having died when Luna was a little girl.
”You’d better come upstairs”, Xenophilius mutters and leads the way up the spiral staircase.
The room on the top floor seems to be a living room and workplace in one, and is even more cluttered than the kitchen. Luna isn’t here though, as Harry had expected. The thing that’s making the noises he’d heard from downstairs is actually a printing press churning out copies of The Quibbler. Xenophilius quickly covers the entire thing with a big blanket, then moves over to one of the windows and peers out nervously.
”Why have you come here?” he asks Harry without tearing his gaze away.
When Harry explains that they need his help, the man casts a shifty glance between the three of them and the spiral staircase before turning back to the window again, all the while muttering to himself and Harry can clearly make out the words Helping Harry Potter and Dangerous. He feels a surge of irritation.
”Aren’t you the one who keeps telling everyone that it’s their first duty to help Harry, in that magazine of yours?” Ron demands, obviously feeling the same way.
”Where’s Luna?” Hermione says. ”Let’s see what she thinks!”
Xenophilius gulps, then seems to steel himself.
”Yes, all right”, he says in a shaky voice and his non-lazy eye comes to rest on Harry. ”Luna is down by the stream fishing for Freshwater Plimpies, I’ll go and call her and then — yes, then I shall try and help you…”
He disappears down the spiral staircase again and after a moment they hear the front door open and close. When he comes back, he is carrying a tray with four teacups and a steaming teapot, but no Luna.
”May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots? We make it ourselves”, he says and starts to pour out the drink into the cups. ”Luna is most excited that you are here. She ought not be too long… Now, how may I help you, Mr Potter?”
After Hermione has read the story of the Three Brothers from her copy of Beedle the Bard, Xenophilius, who has been gazing out of the window the entire time, seems to shake himself out of his thoughts and says, ”Well, there you are. The Deathly Hallows.”
”Sorry?” Hermione says, frowning in confusion.
”The Elder wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Cloak of Invisibility… Together they make The Deathly Hallows”, Xenophilius explains and draws the symbol on a bit of parchment.
”But there is no mention of Deathly Hallows in the story!” Hermione says.
”Well, no, of course not. That is a children’s tale, told to amuse not instruct. But those of us who truly belive recognises that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor a master of Death.”
”Do you mean”, Hermione says slowly, clearly trying not to sound too sceptic. ”That you believe these objects — these Hallows — actually exist?”
”Well, of course!”
Hermione is steadily losing the struggle with her own face that is soon contorted with a mix of scepticism and exasperation. Before she can build up enough steam over the existence of a stone with the power to reverse death to send her inte a full-fledged tirade, Harry cuts in and asks Mr Lovegood about the Elder Wand instead.
Hermione listens to the man’s theories about the wand with a frown on her face, but this time she doesn’t bother contradicting his beliefs, instead she asks him about the Peverell family. The name rings a bell, but Harry can’t think of where he’s heard it before.
”That was the name on the grave with the mark on it in Godric’s Hollow”, Hermione explains, still watching Xenophilius closely.
”Exactly!” Xenophilius exclaims with a look of triumph on his face. ”The sign of the Deathly Hallows on Ignotus Peverell’s grave is conclusive proof that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!”
With another glance out the window, the man springs into action and disappears down the spiral staircase once more, calling out over his shoulder that they must stay for dinner with him and Luna.
”Everybody always requests our recipy for Freshwater Plimpy soup!” they hear him call out from the kitchen.
”Probably to show to the Poisoning Department at St Mungo’s”, Ron mutters and pours his Gurdyroot infusion back into the teapot.
He and Hermione seem disappointed and Harry has to agree with them that Xenophilius theories about the children’s tale being based on true events and that such death-defying objects would actually exist seems very far-fetched, even though Harry does possess one of them. Still, he figures, they should have known better than to get their hopes up. This is after all the man who has raised Luna Lovegood.
Harry tunes out a whispered agrument between Ron and Hermione over the properties of Harry’s Invisibility Cloak and walks over to the spiral staircase to glance up to the top floor… A putrid smell is now wafting up from the kitchen and Harry wonders how much of the horrid Plimpy soup he would have to force himself to eat so as not to appear rude… He tilt his head and stares up the staircase and for a second he catches a glimpse of what he believes to be a mirror, but then realises it can’t be, the face staring back at him is too still and the angle is all wrong… It’s a painting, it’s a painting of me, he thinks and curiously walks up the stairs to take a better look.
”Harry!” Hermione whispers after him. ”I don’t think you should look around when he’s not here!”
Harry ignores her and steps into the room on the next level of the house. It’s clearly Luna’s room, her colourful personality seems to scream from every surface and in the sightly slanted ceiling five large portraits have been painted, including the one of Harry that he first had mistaken for a mirror. The other portraits are of Ron, Hermoine, Ginny and Neville, all of them linked together with a chain of golden letters spelling out the word ’friends’ over and over, and Harry feels a surge of fondness for Luna at the sight. None of the portraits are moving like magical portraits usually do, but they aren’t exactly still as muggle paintings either, because Harry somehow gets the feeling that all five of them are breathing, and watching him passively.
He smiles a little to himself and looks around the room once more. There is one other picture in the room, but it’s a framed photograph not a painting, and like all magical photographs the people in it are moving, hugging each other to be exact, and Harry walks closer to the nightstand on with the photograph is standing and bends to look closer at it. The little girl in the picture is defininitely Luna and the young woman whose lap she’s sitting on must be her mother, Harry guesses. She is quite pretty and has the same dreamy look in her eyes that Luna usually has…
The smile on Harry’s face stiffens when he realises that that picture is dusty. That’s odd, he thinks and has another look around the room… Something is wrong… The pale blue carpet is also thick with dust and the wardrobe is gaping at him, completely empty of clothes… The bed is made, but Harry gets the feeling that it hasn’t been slept in in quite a while.
”What’s wrong?” Hermione says immediately when Harry descends the stairs.
Harry opens his mouth to voice his concerns, but before he has a chance to say anything, they’re joined again by Xenophilius who is carrying another tray, this one laden with four bowls of foul-smelling soup.
”Mr Lovegood, where is Luna?” Harry says.
The man halts on the top step of the staircase and his shifty eye flits between the three of them, and the window.
”I- I’ve told you, she’s down at the stream fishing for Plimpies…”
”So why have you only laid that tray for four?”
Xenophilius drops the tray and the bowls smash against the floor, soup splattering all over the place. Harry, Ron and Hermione have all drawn their wands before Xenophilius has even managed to reach into his pocket, and he freezes, staring between them in horror.
At that moment, the printing press stops clanking and one of the freshly printed copies of The Quibbler spills onto the floor from beneath the blanket. Hermione stoops to pick it up and her face grows even more grim as she holds it up for the boys to see. On the cover is the familiar picture of Harry with the headline ’Undesirable Number One’ printed in fat, red letters followed by the Ministry reward sum.
”The Quibbler going for a new angle?” Harry says cooly, but his mind is racing in panic. ”Is that what you were doing when you went outside then, owl the Ministry?”
Xenophilius seems to be trembling slightly and he licks his lips, then finally whispers, ”They took my Luna… 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 m- might give her b- back if I — if I —”
”Hand over Harry?” Hermione says coldly.
”No deal”, Ron says. ”Get out of the way, we’re leaving.”
Xenophilius spreads his arms and blocks the staircase to prevent them from leaving, and Harry has a sudden vision of his own mother standing between Voldemort and Harry’s crib in a similar way, arms spread wide and a desperate, pleading look in her eyes, like the one in Mr Lovegood’s good eye right now.
Everything happens really fast.
Hermione screams Harry’s name and he whips his head around and sees figures on broomsticks flying past the windows, only realising his mistake when it’s too late, catching the movement of Lovegood drawing his wand in the corner of his eye, Harry barely has time to throw himself to the side before the Stunning Spell soars across the room.
There is a massive explosion; wood and paper and rubble fly in all directions; Harry hits the floor with a hard thud and quickly throws his arms over his head to shield himself from the flying debris, vaguely aware of Hermione and Ron screaming, and Lovegood crashing to the floor below.
”I told you last week, Lovegood, we weren’t coming back for anything less than solid information—!” a furious voice yells from the level below, his angry outbursts punctuated by muffled shouts of pain from Xenophilius. ”And now it turns out you only called us here to blow us up —!”
”No, no, please, I beg you, Potter is upstairs! I swear! Potter is upstairs —!” Xenophilius sobs.
”You lying piece of filth! Thought you would lure us here to kill us, did you? And you think you’ll get your girl back that way?”
”I swear… I swear… Potter’s upstairs!”
”Let’s get out of here”, Harry whispers and the three of them climb as quietly as they can manage through the rubble.
Hermione tells Ron to put on the Invisibility Cloak and grab her shoulder, then gripping her wand tightly in one hand, she grabs Harry’s hand with her other and stares at the broken printing press that is blocking the stairs.
”Hold tight”, she whispers.
When Xenophilius finally manages to shift the printing press and they can see his paper-white face, Hermione swiftly obliviates him and then blasts a hole in the floor through which the three of them fall like boulders… There is a starled scream from the Death Eaters below as they’re hit by planks of wood and other rubble… Hermione manages to twist in mid-air and the three of them are swallowed up by darkness.
Harry feels himself connect with the ground and lets go of Hermione’s hand again. He pants for breath, while swiping his hand over the grass next to his body, before scrambling to his feet. Hermione is already running around putting up the protective charms and Harry allows himself a moment to catch his breath and hopefully calm his heartrate down.
”That treacherous old bleeder!” Ron gasps as he throws off the Invisibility Cloak and tosses it to Harry. ”Hermoine, you are a genius! I can’t believe we got out of that! — What do you reckon they’ll do to him?”
”Oh, I hope they don’t kill him”, Hermione moans. ”That’s why I wanted the Death Eaters to get a glimpse of Harry before we left, so they’d know Mr Lovegood wasn’t lying to them…”
They put up the tent and once inside Ron makes them all a cup of tea. After yet another narrow escape, with adrenalin still pumping through his body, sitting in the familiar musty old tent with his cold hands wrapped around a warm mug, Harry feels like he’s home.
”Oh, why did we go there”, Hermione wails. ”Harry you were right, it was Godric’s Hollow all over again! A complete waste of time!… Deathly Hallows… such rubbish!”
They launch into another discussion about the three Hallows and the odds of their existence and talk in circles for a few minutes until Harry decides to change to subject and asks Hermione is she knows anything about the Peverell family, still sure he’s heard the name somewhere but can’t put his finger on where… Hermione shakes her head, a look of irritation flashing in her eyes, which tends to happen whenever she is asked a question to which she doesn’t know the answer.
”I looked up Ignotus Peverell after that night in Godric’s Hollow, if he’d been famous or done anything important he was bound to show up in one of my books, but the only reference to the name Peverell that I could find was in Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, that I borrows from Kreacher”, she says, and Ron raises his eyebrows. ”It lists the pure-blood families that are now extinct in the male line, and apparently the Peverells were one of the earliest families to vanish… their name died out centuries ago. They could still have descendants though, only they’d be called something different, since it’s customary when a witch and wizard get married that the witch takes on her husband’s name…”
”I thought that was common practise for muggles too?” Ron interjects.
”Yes, of course”, Hermione agrees. ”I meant to say when a man and woman get married, I suppose, as opposed to two men, or two women…”
”Oh right”, Ron says and nods in understanding.
He then gives Harry an apprehensive, sideway glance as if worried that the mention of two men getting married might somehow give Harry ideas. But Harry is barely even paying attention to what his friends are saying anymore, because he suddenly remembers where he’s heard the name Peverell before.
”Marvolo Gaunt!” he exclaims, and when Ron and Hermione only give him questioning looks he hurries to explain, but he can barely get the words out properly, his mind racing. ”I-In the Pensive — with Dumbledore — I saw him, Gaunt, Marvolo Gaunt — You-Know-Who’s grandfather —!”
”What?” Hermione gasps. ”Wait, slow down, Harry! What are you —?”
”He said he was descended from the Peverell’s! Marvolo Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverell’s in the memory Dumbledore showed me, the memory with the ring —!”
”What ring —?” Ron says, looking even more bewildered.
”The one that became a Horcrux!” Harry all but hollers at him, barely refraining from shaking him. ”The ring that Dumbledore destroyed. It belonged to Vol — er — You-Know-Who’s grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt, and he said it had the Peverell coat of arms on it!”
”The Peverell coat of arms?” Hermione says sharply. ”Could you see what it looked like?”
”Not really”, Harry admits. ”There was nothing fancy on there, I remember that. Just looked like some scratches, but then I only ever saw it up-close after it had been cracked open… But don’t you see? It all fits!”
”Harry…” Hermione says cautiously. ”It doesn’t necessarily —”
”It fits!” Harry says firmly. ”And it was a stone in that ring, wasn’t there?”
”Blimey”, Ron says. ”You don’t think it was the —”
”The Resurrection Stone? Why not?” Harry says ecstatically.
”You think it would still work, even after Dumbledore broke —?”
”Work? Work?” Hermione says shrilly, jumping to her feet. ”Ron, it never worked! There’s not such thing as a Resurrection Stone! It’s just a story!”
”Hermione, I know the sign of the Deathly Hallows was on that stone”, Harry says. ”And Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverell’s!”
”A minute ago you told us you never saw the mark on the stone clearly! You said it just looked like some scratches!”
But Harry just shakes his head at her, refusing to listen. His mind is going a mile a minute… Three objects, one of which is already in Harry’s possession, and if he can only find the other two… if united they make a Master of death… Harry can picture it now, facing Voldemort with his Invisibility Cloak, the Resurrection Stone and the Elder Wand… Voldemort’s Horcruxes would be no match for the Deathly Hallows… Neither can live while the other survives… What if this was Dumbledore’s secret plan all along?
It all makes sense, Harry thinks giddily as hope flares up in his chest once more.
”Dumbledore borrowed the Invisibility Cloak from my dad, he had it that night when they were killed”, he says, almost to himself. ”Why would Dumbledore need to borrow an Invisibility Cloak when he could cast such a powerful Disillusionment Charm that it would make him completely invisible? Because he wanted to study it, to see if it was the real deal, if it was one of the Hallows! It all makes sense…”
”No, Harry, it doesn’t —!” Hermione insists desperately.
”My mum told Sirius in that letter that Dumbledore had borrowed the Cloak!” Harry insists and starts rifling through his pouch. ”Dumbledore borrowed the Cloak even though he had no need for it, because he wanted to study it, because he believed it was the third Hallow! Ignotus Peverell is buried in Godric’s Hollow, what if he’s my ancestor and that’s why my dad had the Cloak in the first place?”
He finally finds the letter from his mum and thrusts it at Hermione, vaguely aware of a clang as something else tumbled out of the pouch and fell to the floor.
”Read it!” he urges Hermione, then looks around for whatever else fell out of the pouch.
When he catches the glint of the Golden Snitch, another certainty plummets into his mind and he gasps.
”What, what?” Ron says quickly.
Harry stoops and picks up the Snitch, heart hammering hard in his chest… I open at the close…
What if… What if Dumbledore had it all worked out for him, what if he hadn’t left him with nothing in the dark after all…
He already had one of the Hallows, maybe he even had two…
”It’s in here!” he says. ”Dumbledore left me the ring — it’s in the Snitch! I’m sure of it!”
”You — you reckon?” Ron says, staring at Harry with wide, almost frightened eyes.
Harry has never been more certain of anything in his life. He just knows Dumbledore left the ring with the Resurrection Stone in the Snitch for him to find… if only he knew how to open it… I open at the close… whatever that means, Harry thinks. But at least he has it. He has two of the three Hallows, now all he needs is the Elder Wand, and maybe he’ll actually stand a chance against Voldemort after all…
”The Elder Wand”, he murmurs.
With a sinking feeling, ice-cold clarity fills him and he knows what Voldemort is after finally. Not a new wand, on the contrary, a very old wand… the most powerful wand in the world… the Elder wand.