A/N: Thank you for checking out my story! I'll keep this brief, just wanted to warn readers that this story will have violence, language, sexual situations, drug use, mentions of torture and rape and a bunch of other trigger inducing scenes scattered throughout. I don't like putting trigger warnings before each chapter because as a reader I like to be surprised and feel that warnings spoil the events to come. So this is my disclaimer for the remainder of the story, please avoid reading if you don't like such content.
Like I said, I don't like spoilers so I don't want to reveal too much of the plot. However I can tell you I treat (most of) the epilogue as canon while manipulating other aspects of the books, such as who lives and dies in the Final Battle. Also involves a bit of time travel shenanigans but it's NOT a TT centric story. Just as it will feature next gen characters but is not exclusively a next gen story. And while it does feature Delphi it does not pull much of anything else from Cursed Child besides her parentage. Finally, this story will have multiple different pairings, both het and slash, but I won't reveal who they are as that would definitely be a spoiler, however I think you'll be able to spot a few of them early on ;)
Without further ado, off we go!
May 2, 1998
Hogwarts Castle
The final battle raged on throughout the ancient castle Rodolphus had once considered a sanctuary during his youth. As the elder of the two Lestrange heirs he spent the entirety of his adolescence and early adulthood with a golden spoon affixed firmly in his mouth.
However he learned quickly that golden spoons held as much weight as their plastic counterparts when it came to shielding oneself from Dementors. Nothing in his luxurious and easy upbringing could have prepared him for what it meant to become and remain a member of his Dark Lord's inner circle. And none of the horrors he committed as a Death Eater could have prepared him for the terrors housed within the frozen stonewalls of Azkaban.
The only thing that kept him hanging to his last thread of sanity was his Bella. For reasons he still didn't fully comprehend the Ministry had allowed him and his wife to share a cell. Normally prisoners were housed separately in cells so narrow it was impossible to lie down without bumping a head or foot on the walls at either end. However he decided early on not to question the one small blessing he was granted in that hell hole and instead focused each day on how fortunate he was to remain close to the only person he ever truly cared for.
Even if that person hated him.
Their relationship was complicated from the first day they met, and after over three decades together he had long ago accepted the limits of what Bella was able to offer him in their union. There were moments he truly believed she hated him, felt it down to the marrow of his bones. He could see the deep seated resentment simmering beneath her dead stare as she sat huddled in the corner of their shared cell, as far from him as she could manage in such a confined space.
But then there were the nights she sat huddled in his arms, physically wracked from the sobs and the screams, mentally drained from the hopelessness of their shared situation. And that was the core of it all. They shared everything. Every sin, every travesty, every defining moment in one another lives from the moment their eyes connected across Black Hall all those years ago. That was what kept them tied for eternity, no matter the pain and regrets that littered their past. It was their pain and regrets to share.
He was the only one who could possibly understand what she was feeling all those long years wasting away in that tower in the North Sea, and for that she always found a way of coming back to him. Whether that meant crawling six feet across the filthy cell floor into his open arms or apparating halfway around the world to provide backup on a mission that was getting out of hand, his Bella would always return to him, eventually.
For their could not be hatred where there was not first love. That was another mantra he repeated to himself all those long nights in the freezing cold of their shared hell.
A bright green curse sped past his head, missing by inches thanks to many years of honed reflexes. He was surprised to see the young face scowling at him from the end of the opposing wand.
A child had successfully cast a killing curse. Curious.
He knew Severus allowed the Carrows to teach and inflict the cruciatus on school grounds, but he hoped they weren't stupid enough to arm the students with lethal abilities.
By the time he finished pondering how a person so young could have successfully unleashed such a curse the said child was stunned and left in a heap of bodies, blood, and rubble littering the long corridor.
Their Master had instructed them to only stun the younger students when possible, reserving their Avadas for upperclassmen fighting with more lethal force and proving harder to brainwash after the battle was won. Of course once the battle began the air was alight with smoke and multi colored flashes from the onslaught of non-stop curses and shields. It became next to impossible to determine the approximate age of anyone in a uniform. At first he merely went off height, then fighting ability, but soon stopped trying to decipher and unleashed stunners on nearly every non-Order member he crossed wands with.
From the corner of his eye he watched his fellow Death Eaters openly disregard the Dark Lord's orders and unleashed a multitude of lethal curses indiscriminately. In another lifetime he would scream orders and personally oversee their punishments for insubordination.
But none of that mattered to him now. He only had one goal in mind: finding his wife.
A cold numbness had settled into his bones before they even apparated from Malfoy Manor to the school gates. He couldn't convince Bella to sit out this battle, to stay at the Manor and protect the most important jewel in their treasury. And of course he had followed her here, unable to stand the thought of Bella fighting for her life and dying without his wand at her aid. They had been through everything together, and would see this night through side by side.
The Battle was out of control, far more difficult than even the Dark Lord had been anticipating, though he knew his Master would never admit to being surprised by the forces of elderly professors and toddlers with their milk teeth.
Suddenly he heard his wife's battle cry, a high pitched laugh that proudly declared what was likely a gruesome victory against a bunch of school children. Before the Battle had begun, a part of him wondered if Bella would find difficulty with dueling children now that she was a…
Another curse went zipping by his head, this one splitting into a sea of embers that sizzled and snapped in the air, burning everything they came in contact with. An impressive bit of magic unleashed by an older looking teen with a yellow tie loosely hanging from her neck, the color barely discernible through caked dirt and dried blood.
He sent a strong stunner her way and was once again impressed by the powerful shield she threw up a split second before his curse connected. What exactly were the Carrows teaching these students? Was it possible this was magic learned at home? He'd witnessed too many explosive and dark curses uttered from the mouths and wands of babes to believe these children were performing at their typical school level. Perhaps parents throughout Wizarding Britain were arming their offspring with private dueling lessons?
Unlikely. Somehow these students had armed themselves behind Snape and the Carrows' backs and were putting up one hell of a fight.
He engaged in a few more seconds of dueling with the talented Hufflepuff teen before she suddenly jolted forward, her eyes glazing over and her limbs dropping like a marionette with its strings cut.
He was puzzled for a moment until she dropped to her knees and then into a crumpled heap, Dolohov's wand still poised behind where she once stood, his eyes gleaming feral even in the poorly lit hall.
"Wasting time with stunners?" His Russian accent was always heavier during a battle.
"Just following orders," Rodolphus ground back, flying past his fellow Death Eater in the direction he last heard his wife's voice.
He wasn't surprised to see Antonin keeping pace at his side.
"The time for stunners has long passed. The Dark Lord is ready for this battle to end and to claim victory. Kill anyone left standing."
"And I'm to take order from you now, am I?" Rodolphus bit out with more anger than was appropriate for Dolohov's comment. But the Russian took the scathing remark in stride, a knowing smirk already at home on his smudged and filthy face.
"Hunting for wifey?"
Rodolphus cringed internally at the other man's sarcastic taunt. He and Antonin were brothers in many ways after fighting so many bloody battles side-by-side, often guarding one another's back. If Rodolphus was ever hard pressed to choose who he trusted most in this world, Antonin would easily rank third. But the ongoing sore spot between the two men, as well as between him and Rab, was that Bella held the top spot in all facets of his life, even after what she did while he sat in Azkaban the year prior, pining for merely a glimpse of her.
He was still reeling from the events of the last ten months and coming to terms with the long-term ramifications of his wife's decision on their marital future. But while he had chosen to accept the things in which he could not change and push ahead with the current circumstances, Rab nor Antonin were as open minded and refused to let him pretend his marriage was anything close to normal.
"Perhaps I am," he responded tightly, the roar of screams and spells echoing off every stone of the vast castle, but Antonin remained at his shoulder and could hear him just fine, "Though it would seem I am not the only one on the hunt. Still can't locate your Mudblood prize?"
He couldn't afford to pull his attention away from possible attacks in order to see his friend's reaction, but he could practically hear the scowl in the Russian's voice.
"I have spotted her several times throughout the night, but always from across the battlefield. I believe she is in the Great Hall now, battling your wife, if Yaxley is to be believed. Everyone is gathering there for the final push. I was on my way there when I heard your pathetic attempts at subduing a teenager too young to apparate."
Rodolphus chose to ignore the slight. He broke into a run towards the Great Hall, where the battle raged the loudest, the ground and walls vibrating the closer they got.
"Remind your wife of our deal!" Antonin shouted as they approached the entrance of the Great Hall, the noise almost deafening, "I will have my Mudblood in exchange for my Vow-"
"Bloody hell, I know, Dolohov!" Rodolphus shouted his parting words with more contempt than he really felt towards his friend.
True, Antonin's obsession with Potter's Mudblood since their run in at the Department of Mysteries was well known within the Inner Circle, and a great source of amusement for those looking to make the Russian's blood boil. But his endless reminders of their deal while preparing for the final battle was not what made Rodolphus explode with anger.
No. It was spotting Bella at the front of the enormous room dueling against three young women, laughing maniacally as she wielded her wand as a masterful maestro.
He shot and dodged curses blindly, desperate to clear a path through the insanity to his wife. He recognized the fire in her eyes as well as he his own face in the mirror. She was lost to bloodlust, half crazed with the dark magic pulsing through her veins and exuding from every pore. She was not staying on the outskirts of the battle, shooting down the fleeing and injured students as promised, she was in the very heart of the battle surrounded by the most skilled of their opponents.
A quick look to her left told him exactly why.
She was fighting alongside her Master.
It always came down to Him.
Rodolphus's blood boiled with a ferocity he had yet to feel this evening, and it wasn't for the students and Order members shooting a rainbow of curses and hexes his way. He shook with rage that his wife was once again risking her life for her Dark Lord rather than preserving herself for the sake of her husband. Or, on this particular night, for the sake of her daughter.
He had lost track of Antonin but upon seeing Potter's Mudblood dueling Bella he could only assume the Russian was trying to cut a similar path across the Hall. Dolohov would not stand for Bella to strike down his war prize this close to the end of the battle.
And the end was near. The same foreboding shadow that settled upon him earlier this evening was now fully engulfing him it its cold and dreadful clutch, so similar to the sensation of a Dementor passing his cell that he felt half mad with blind terror.
Stunning spells long forgotten, he aimed to kill, whether it was man, woman or child, anyone standing between him and Bella was to be struck down permanently. He was slowly getting closer and honed his senses to her voice, now clearly discernible above all the other chaos.
She was taunting the girls she was dueling, clearly playing with her food as she was easily capable of cutting them all down with one fatal sweep of her wand.
This enraged him further. She was playing games and taking her time instead of opting for efficiency. No one could drive him mad like Bella could. No one else inspired such a reaction from him, made him feel every emotion across the spectrum between love and hate in such quick succession.
And then he saw it, that flash of finality in her dark eyes, her decision to plunge her claws into her prey and tear out their jugular.
She shot a killing curse at her redhead opponent, the teen's athletic body performing an acrobatic twist a millisecond before the curse hit its target, sizzling a wisp of her flying tresses.
Just as suddenly another red head appeared, someone much older than Bella's current adversaries and draped in common house robes. It took his overactive mind a moment to process this was Molly Weasley, rapidly firing neurons connecting the dots that the younger girl must be her daughter, who he vaguely recognized from the Department of Mysteries.
Any Weasley was considered as powerful a bargaining chip as the Mudblood herself. He didn't goad Antonin for his obsession with the filthy girl for he understood what it was to be bewitched mind, body and soul by someone that evaded you at every turn.
As the elder Weasley pushed the younger girls back and threw curses at his wife he turned his focus to the opponents closest to him. He only half listened to Bella's cutting taunts, something about one of the Weasleys being struck down. The family was so prolific he was surprised more weren't dead by now.
He fully expected Bella to cut the old, fat hag down to size in a matter of seconds.
That was the thought going through Rodolphus's mind when his world shattered.
For decades to come he would always remember the following moments in stunning clarity. He would later obsess whether time literally slowed down merely to torture him, forcing him to absorb every last bit pain and misery that bore into his being.
Time, after all, was soon to become his most elusive and demanding mistress.
But he didn't know any of that just yet. All that existed was the here and now and the sudden flash of blinding green from the corner of his eye. Reliving that terrible moment time and time again he'd ask himself how he knew Bella was the victim of the killing curse before actually witnessing her fall.
He later decided it was the ominous silence that followed the blast.
After successfully striking down her opponents Bella would unleash a victory call, ranging from a bark of amusement to high shriek peels of laughter, depending on the fierceness of the duel and victim.
But his wife's voice did not immediately follow the flash of green, and that was the moment he knew she had fallen. That was the moment everything slowed, everything changed, and a central part of him died in the smoldering pit of his chest cavity.
He turned in time to see the killing curse dissipate from the air surrounding her upper torso, crackling in the air like an electric current. She staggered on her feet and a look of shock crossed her face, a look he was sure was mirrored on his own. He was screaming endlessly in his head, a mantra of her name and other pleas to any deity that may have been listening, but his throat burned with how tightly it constricted, rendering him mute as the world around him exploded.
It was then that Bella's eyes shifted, just a fraction, the rest of her face frozen in that expression of dumbfounded misery he would never be able to purge from his memory.
Those fathomless, dark, beautiful eyes he spent over half his life gazing into locked onto his one final time. A world of memories and broken promises flashed through his mind, like stuffing his head in an overflowing pensieve of every moment he ever held dear and preserved from the Dementors.
He watched in abject terror as the light behind those eyes faded and she slowly collapsed, first to her knees, then finally breaking their gaze as she collapsed lifeless to the stone floor in a near identical mimicry of the Hufflepuff slain before him only minutes before.
Suddenly a deep, agonized scream erupted in the Hall, overpowering every other sound and making the great stone walls tremble anew. People stopped fighting mid cast to turn and look at the spectacle at the front of the Hall.
Rodolphus was still frozen in his all consuming agony and disbelief so it took a moment to realize the screaming was emanating from somewhere other than in his own head. Recognition was slow to come, thoughts moving through a thick fog, until he finally realized it was the Dark Lord wailing like a wounded animal.
He felt a flush of anger that his Master could possibly pretend to comprehend the depth of what Rodolphus had just lost, but just as suddenly as the rage overrode his despair the Dark Lord was cursing away his previous opponents with a powerful blast and making a move towards the Weasley woman who was now clinging to her daughter.
And then Potter appeared as if from thin air. But Rodolphus was disassociated to the world around him.
Whether his Master killed the idiot boy or Potter once more pulled another miracle from his endless repertoire of tricks was meaningless. All that mattered in his world just hit the stone floor and snuffed out the last bit of light in his life.
Rodolphus staggered backwards, deaf to the conversation happening between the Dark Lord and the boy as they slowly circled one another like birds of prey.
He felt a strong hand grip his arm, halting his movements. He spun around, wand at the ready, and locked eyes with a face so similar to his own.
"What is it?" Rabastan asked and then answered his own question when he averted his eyes to where Rodolphus had previously been transfixed. He sighed deeply, nodding in realization and then redirected his attention to his older brother.
"I'm sorry, Rod, but we have a mission to see through."
His brother's words were slow to take root in his mind, but once they settled Rodolphus was hit with a memory that nearly buckled his knees with its weight.
"Brilliant, My Lord!" Bella gushed, leaning over for a closer look at the item sitting on the table before the Inner Circle and their Leader.
"Careful, Bella," their Master reprimanded lightly, causing Bella to jerk back as if burned, "Neither hand, hair or breath may touch this item until precisely the right moment, should that moment ever come." He spoke the last part in a quiet hiss that sent chills up Rodolphus's spine.
What lay before them was a secret meant to be kept upon pain of death. Rodolphus was quite positive the Dark Lord would have put them all under an Unbreakable Vow if more than one individual could execute the task in question.
Alas, it could not be, and there was no way to know who would be the one to perform this duty should the need arise.
"The information we have discussed this night is to not leave the walls of this room. If I find out any of you have discussed this plan, even amongst yourselves, I will be not be pleased." The calm way in which he delivered this threat imparted a deeper malevolence than if he had outlined each and every step of their promised evisceration.
"Of course, my Lord," was Bella's instant response, unphased by the heavy threat hovering above all their heads.
"Since this is the only time any of you are permitted to speak of this plan, are there any questions?" The Dark Lord's snake like eyes burned an acidic trail as he looked to each of them in turn, no one meeting his gaze except Bella, until Rodolphus felt the heavy weight of his Master's attention focused solely upon his downturned head.
"Comments?"
He forced himself to meet his Master's eyes, a task that had become a minor feet ever since their Lord returned from the grave half man, half beast. Rodolphus knew the final question was directed for him specifically, as he had been unusually quiet throughout the night's revelation and subsequent discussion. He hoped his distracted state would go unnoticed, but of course nothing escaped their Master's attention.
Rodolphus swallowed heavily in realized fear and to afford a few precious moments to formulate his response.
"Yes, my Lord," Rodolphus began, measuring each word carefully, "Would it not be prudent to have a member of your Inner Circle, someone you trust beyond reproach, stay here at the Manor, to ensure someone is alive to execute this plan if the need arises?"
He saw his wife stand straighter, muscles tense, beside him. She knew what he was trying to do and he expected a tongue-lashing and particularly nasty hex for it later. But all that mattered was convincing his Master right now.
The skin above the Dark Lord's left eye lifted slightly, his version of a raised brow without brows to raise.
"Go on."
Rodolphus took a deep breath to steal himself and continued, despite the anger radiating from the slight feminine form beside him.
"If we need to execute this plan as a last resort, it's because you will have fallen, my Lord," he saw his Master's face go tense and rapidly pushed forward, aware of how uncomfortable his surrounding Death Eaters became upon his blasphemy, "Which is unfathomable, I can't imagine any scenario in which the coward Potter would be able to take a piss without the Order assisting. But since we are discussing this as a back up plan to the unthinkable, I'm also considering the likelihood that if they do have some hidden trick up their sleeve it's also likely the majority of the people in this room will be dead before it has any effect on you. You will be the most powerful wizard in the battle to come, my Lord, if you fall, there is no logical way anyone in this room could still be standing."
He paused, braced for death or torture, unable to fully read his Master's face. He only hoped his insults against Potter and praise of his Lord's immense power would be enough to earn him a reprieve.
The room was deadly silent, even Bella seemed unsure how to proceed; poised at the ready to stroke her Master's stung ego if need be.
Just as Rodolphus was resigned to death and his mind started to drift to the nursery upstairs his Master tipped his head forward a slight fraction, "Proceed."
Rodolphus released the breath he'd been holding.
"I propose that someone stay behind at the Manor while the battle in underway. We are connected to you through our Mark, my Lord. Should that connection be severed, your loyal followers will know instantaneously," this part Rodolphus wasn't so sure about, but his Master didn't offer any opposing information to give him pause, "The person stationed at the Manor could then proceed accordingly, with the Order remaining none the wiser."
He hoped his last statement would mitigate any insult imparted by the rest of his speech.
Silence filled the vast dining hall once more until Lucius anxiously shifted his weight upon his cane.
"Interesting proposition, Rodolphus…" the Dark Lord's tone revealed nothing, "And were I to agree to this plan, would you volunteer to be the one to remain behind at the Manor?"
Rodolphus inhaled sharply and braced himself once more, though this time he was fortifying himself for his wife's fury.
"I would happily do so should my Lord request it of me, however I would like to recommend Bella for the task."
He no sooner finished his sentence before Bella exploded with movement at his side.
"Absolutely not! I will fight by my Dark Lord's side and see that Potter brat dead at his feet! I will watch the Order crumble in on itself and-,"
"Calm yourself, Bella."
Rodolphus's jaw tensed as his wife fell silent more quickly than a silencing charm could take effect. She showed unlimited obedience to but one Master, and it had never been him.
"And why would you volunteer Bella for this task, Rodolphus? Are you sure you aren't allowing bias to cloud your judgment? It would be understandable after all, to want your wife to be as far from the threat of peril as possible."
Bella stared up at her husband with challenging eyes, as though daring him to resume his attempts to sequester her.
"Not at all, my Lord. Bella's skills at the Dark Arts are surpassed only by you," this at least, was something Rodolphus believed to be true, "I do not doubt her ability to protect herself in the battle to come. However if this truly is a last resort, it must be preserved and executed by the best of us. Should anything go awry, Bella is most equipped to neutralize any threat in your absence."
He felt as though he was grabbing words floating freely in the air, trying to piece together a solid argument as he went. Rodolphus was well versed in thinking quickly on his feet; he only hoped his proposal held weight to the one person who mattered.
The appraising look his Master gave him told him that he wasn't about to be tortured and killed on site, at least not yet. Was it possible he had actually convinced his Lord to remand Bella to the Manor while the final battle raged?
Bella seemed to sense the change in the Dark Lords demeanor and panic visibly creased her face, though she appeared equally afraid to speak out of turn after being silenced moments before.
Rodolphus knew his wife would love nothing more than to fight and die beside her Master rather than being holed up in the Manor like an impotent elf awaiting their next command.
He waited with baited breath for his Master's next words, already tasting the victory on his tongue, when another voice rang out within the long Hall.
"My Lord, if I may…"
The Dark Lord snapped out of his internal reverie and looked to the person standing closest to his other side.
"Of course, Severus, I am most interested to hear your thoughts on Rodolphus's proposal."
Rodolphus clenched his fists at his side. Severus was always a wild card. Rodolphus never understood the trust their Master instilled in the pompous, lanky excuse for a man.
Of all the Inner Circle members Severus has performed the fewest acts of loyalty. He never even served time in Azkaban for Merlin's sake! Rodolphus couldn't comprehend the connection the pathetic oaf shared with their Master but he knew better than to question it, or to argue openly with Severus while he delivered his council.
"I do not fault Rodolphus's logic in remanding a Circle member to remain behind with the relic. I do however think it a waste to deny our side the use of one of our most lethal weapons in the heat of the final battle."
Bella openly preened at the compliment, which Rodolphus found most amusing considering her deep hatred for the man who delivered it.
Severus never took his eyes from his Master, "Should this plan need to be executed it will require minimal effort, literally the flick of one's wrist. Even the most incompetent of your followers could perform without fail. I think it most prudent to leave behind someone who will not be missed on the battlefield."
Severus paused, letting his words settle into his Master's mind before adding almost as an after thought, "Perhaps Avery."
"Fuck you, Snape!"
"Silence!" The Dark Lord's voice seemed to reverberate from within the walls and vaulted ceiling, surrounding them from all sides, "You will refrain from using such language in my presence, Avery."
"My apologies, Master."
"My Lord," Lucius suddenly spoke up, his voice hoarse from prolonged screaming after multiple torture sessions over the last few weeks, "I realize my family has not performed to the level that is worthy to serve you and to further our ideals-"
"Yes, yes, out with it, Lucius."
"I would like the opportunity to redeem my family name and serve you in this matter. May I volunteer Draco for the task-"
This time Bella couldn't contain her outburst, a peel of high pitch laughter exploding from her lips as she bent over the table trying to catch her breath.
Rodolphus was not surprised their Master didn't reprimand her this time for he wore an amused expression as well.
"Lucius, I believe what our dear Bella is trying to convey is our shared disbelief. First of all, do you see your son standing anywhere in this room? Perhaps he's under a disillusionment charm I have yet to detect?"
Rodolphus watched what little color remained in the pale blonde rise to his cheeks.
"Of course not, my Lord, I only meant-"
"You meant to leave what may be the last hope for our cause in the hands of your incompetent offspring, who has already failed every task I have assigned to him. The reason you do not see your son standing in this room is because he is not a member of my Inner Circle, he has done nothing to earn that right and therefore is not worthy to be privy to this secret. To be quite honest, I've debated allowing you into this room. I would not trust a Malfoy with casting a proper lumos when I need it."
Lucius bent his head down, defeated, and Bella finally fell into a supremely smug silence.
"Now, back to Severus's point," their Master continued, his words cutting like knives, "I agree that it would be a waste to leave someone as skilled as Bella behind at the Manor."
Rodolphus swallowed heavily, his heart pumping wildly as the Dark Lord went on, "However I do not think it prudent to leave the task to one of my more-" his eyes locked onto the top of Lucius's downturned head, "incompetent followers."
Severus turned his gaze downcast; Rodolphus could practically see the wheels turning behind those black eyes. How could their Master trust this man as he did? Rodolphus was merely trying to spare Bella from lethal injury in the battle to come, and not for his sake (so he told himself) but for the sake of the innocent child sleeping upstairs. Severus clearly had motivations of his own; Rodolphus didn't trust him for a minute.
"So here is my compromise," their Master began anew, speaking loud and clear across the long table. "We will all go into the final battle, however I shall assign a choice few of you to remain on the outskirts of the fight, capturing anyone trying to flee and the injured left behind. Should I become incapacitated in any way, it will be up to one of you to return to the Manor and execute this task. Do not fail me."
The final words were spoken as a cold warning that snuffed out the flames in the nearby sconces.
Clearly dismissed, Rodolphus turned to depart the Dining Hall, mentally fortifying himself for his wife's wrath once they returned to their chambers and sparing one last glance at the time turner laying on the table.
