Author's Note: Hey guys, I am so sorry for the delay in updates. My life has become so increasingly hectic and my shifts at work all lined up in just the wrong order which left me with like zero time to write. I've been working out a lot too and have been redecorating my house in between as well, so I kinda lost track of my laptop and my writing. I'm still a little stuck for time and I am going away for a few days next week but I am doing the best I can.
I hope you enjoy this chapter. There is a lot in here you will obviously recognise and I am building up to another confrontation (that much I can give away).
The first part of this story "Serpent Spell" has been nominated in the Couture Awards in the Best Cross-Gen genre so why don't you head on over to Couture Girl's profile to vote. The poll is up and it would be really nice if you'd vote for Serpent Spell!

Chapter 10

Illumination

The door was blown off its hinges as she stormed into the dining room. Splinters of wood rained down upon the marble floor and the sheer force of her magic shattered one of the large windows across the room. Hazel eyes were blazing and she clutched her wand in her hand. Her gaze locked on the two individuals now standing beside the table. A crystal goblet with red wine had fallen over, shards still falling to the ground as the alcoholic liquid spilt across the table.

"They found Gregorovitch!" Hermione barked and aimed her wand at an ornate picture on the wall. A bright flash shot from the tip of her wand and the frame erupted into the flames. She spun around on her toes and set fire to another picture on the other side of the room. When she went to turn again, strong arms closed around her waist and pulled her down to the floor. The weight of the body on top of her knocked the air out of her lungs and her wand slipped from her fingers.

"Have you gone mad?!" Bellatrix hissed as she reached past Hermione to retrieve the fallen wand.

Behind her Narcissa had put out the flames and she now stared at Bellatrix and Hermione, aghast.

"They found him," Hermione groaned as she pushed Bellatrix off her. The anger that pulsated in her veins was all consuming. It blinded her eyes, it stilled her heart. All she could think, all she could feel, evolved around the fear and the anger that spread throughout her body. She had never been this scared in all her life. She couldn't remember ever being this angry. Hatred was an intoxicating feeling.

The older woman rolled away from her and Hermione staggered to her feet. She contemplated extending her hand to help Hermione up but the brunette didn't even look at her. Bellatrix turned away.

"She fucking well found him!" Hermione whispered. "Merlin only knows how she did it but she did."

"How do you know?" Narcissa asked, staring at Hermione as if she was some kind of monster she had never seen before. "Nobody even knew where he was."

"A Scout returned from Saint Helen." Hermione coughed as she fought to regain her breath. She felt sore and bruised and her back was protesting against standing up. "He told a story of two witches attacking their post in the village. Not long before their arrival a wizard arrived, matching Gregorovitch description. They trapped him in his house and went out to send word to us but it never arrived."

"Andromeda," Bellatrix whispered. "I didn't think she had it in her."

"Never underestimate your worst enemy," Hermione retorted sharply. "Andromeda will go to the end of the world if it means she can find a way to stop us." She brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. "The Scout said they set fire to Gregorovitch cottage, trapping him inside." When she met Bellatrix's eyes she grinned. "You did say that the resistance shouldn't find him, under any circumstance."

"Is he alive?" Narcissa demanded and crossed the room towards Hermione. Fear was evident in her eyes. "Did he survive?"

"We can only assume he did," Hermione answered. "To think differently would be foolish. The Scout said Andromeda was accompanied by a younger woman. Sounds like a girl I went to Hogwarts with. Her name is Katie Bell. Figures she would join the resistance. She used to be friends with Potter and the Weasley kid." Her eyes narrowed. "Speaking of that piece of shit, where's his sister?"

"Where we left her," Bellatrix replied. "Why?"

The corners of Hermione's mouth curled up into a demonic smile. "I think it's time to dangle out some bait."

"You're thinking about letting her go?" Bellatrix sounded unconvinced. "What good could that possibly do? Holding on to her means we have power over the resistance. They will want her back."

"As far as they know, she's dead. They don't know she's alive," Hermione countered. "They need something else to believe in. Something they believe will weaken us even more than finding Gregorovitch did. Freeing Ginny will only add to their euphoria. It is a human instinct to try and save those who are weak and helpless, those who are part of a larger group. Animals leave the wounded behind because they slow them down. Humans experience guilt. They have to come back."

"What do you suggest we do?" Narcissa carefully came closer, still unsure about Hermione's rage. A cool wind blew into the dining room, tickling the back of her neck. It was an unsettling feeling and her head snapped around, her gaze fixing on the broken window for just a moment, before looking back at the young brunette.

"She said the resistance is hiding out in Hogsmeade," Hermione said slowly. "It is the only place we have failed to conquer." She paused for a moment and her eyes searched for and found Bellatrix's dark orbs. "Summon Severus. I think it's time we rely on one of Hogwarts' old passages to pay a quiet visit to the Three Broomsticks."

Narcissa furrowed her brow. "Surely by now the resistance would have closed those passages?"

"Were you almost such a pessimist?" Hermione snarled and rolled her eyes. Anger flashed across Narcissa's aristocratic features but the mask of the Ice Queen was soon put back in place. "Get Severus. Tell him we want access to the village by nightfall. No one speaks a word of this. No one, understood?"

Bellatrix nodded. "What about the warriors though?"

"They will be told when the time is right," Hermione said with a husky, deep voice. "I think it is time we wipe out the resistance once and for all and Ginny Weasley is going to help us kill all her stupid little friends."

"Including the wand maker?" Narcissa asked softly.

"Most of all the wand maker," Hermione chuckled. "With him gone, no one will ever be able to tell Andromeda the secret of destroying the Cores." Sheer hatred flickered deep beyond her eyes and she slowly walked towards the two sisters. Bellatrix's arm was first to protectively snake around her waist but Narcissa tentatively moved closer when she observed her sisters touch. "Remind the warriors that she belongs to me. If she dies, I want it to be at my hands. Nobody gets to kill her but me!"

~()~

"Is he going to be allright?" Andromeda anxiously asked when she saw Aberforth come down the stairs.

She and Katie had arrived back at the Three Broomsticks an hour ago and found Aberforth waiting for them. The old wizard had rushed to their side and helped them carry an unconscious Gregorovitch up the stairs. They had put him into bed and Aberforth demanded Andromeda and Katie went back downstairs to regain their breath and look after the blisters they had sustained in the fire. He would look after the old man, he promised. Andromeda and Katie had not seen him since.

Katie's hands were wrapped in bandages and reeked of the same paste Tonks and Rosmerta had applied to Andromeda's arm days earlier. The skin across the right side of her face was a fiery shade of red but hadn't quite blistered. She clumsily fumbled with her wand, having already dropped it several times. Her clothes were scorched in places and some of her hair had been burnt down to just above her ear.

Andromeda's forearms were covered in blisters but she had refused to wrap bandages around them. Instead her skin was caked in the paste once again, making her look like a snake about to shed its skin. She had gotten used to the stench and admittedly the paste did numb the pain. It took the burn out of her wounds and helped take away some of the redness. She could still smell the stench of burnt flesh and scorched hair and her airways hurt from inhaling the thick, black smoke. Every so often she coughed.

"He'll live," Aberforth answered solemnly. "He's not hurt too badly, thanks to you two. Put some of that stuff on his arms. Didn't seem to keen."

"I wonder why," Katie groaned, wrinkling her nose as she caught another waft of the smell.

"Is he awake?" Andromeda had slipped off her chair. "Can we talk to him?"

Aberforth shrugged. "Not sure how much you're going to get out of him, Andromeda. He seems pretty shaken up if you ask me."

"You'd be too if someone had tried to burn you alive," Andromeda answered. Her eyes darted back to the door. She had lost count of the amount of times she had done it. Fifty, maybe a hundred? She had hoped the others would have been back by now. Even though there were still hours left till the agreed final hour of eight o'clock, by now the others must have realised Gregorovitch wouldn't be found. She could only hope they hadn't encountered any trouble. Or worse.

She was about to ask Aberforth another question when a commotion outside made her look back over her shoulder. The next second the door to the pub opened and Tonks, Seamus and Dean staggered into the pub. The three of them looked like they had been through a storm. Tonks' hair was messed up and her clothes torn. Dean sported a broken nose and blood trickled from his lip. Seamus's face was swollen on one side.

"My God," Andromeda whispered as she rushed to her daughter's side. "What the hell happened?"

"Ran into a couple of Scouts," Tonks groaned. "Suffice it to say that they don't shy away from using their fists."

Andromeda lifted up her daughter's chin to inspect her face. A large bruise had begun to form across her cheek and when Andromeda reached to touch it, Tonks moved away, her face a mask of pain. She reached into the pocket of her jeans and retrieved the wand she had been using after her own had been destroyed. "Not a bad little thing but it's still struggling with its new owner."

"Maybe Gregorovitch can make you a new one," Katie suggested and Tonks eyes widened.

"You found him?!"

Andromeda nodded. "He was almost burnt to a crisp but we've got him. Scouts set fire to the cottage he had been hiding at. Managed to drag him out but we're not sure what state he's in." Her eyes found Aberforth. Once again she was painfully struck by the resemblance he bore to his brother. "How is he, Abe?"

"He's awake," the older wizard answered. "But he's in a lot of pain. I think it would be best to wait till morning, see how he pulls through the night. Give him a chance to get his act back together."

"We can't wait," Andromeda insisted and started crossing the pub towards the stairs. Tonks followed her mother. "I have to speak to him now. We may not live to see another day."

Aberforth didn't argue and stepped aside to let Andromeda pass. He watched the dark haired witch climb the stairs to the first floor and at the top she turned around. "I don't know how much you're going to get out of him, Andy. He's old and frail. The last few weeks haven't been kind to him." He heaved a sigh. "Second door on your right."

"What lies ahead of him is going to be even less kind," Andromeda answered sharply and turned around the corner on the landing. She reached the door Aberforth had mentioned and softly pushed the handle down. It opened with a weak creaking noise. The room was shrouded in darkness. The curtains had been drawn and as she stepped inside Andromeda could make out the shapes of furniture. She waited for Tonks to step into the room too and her daughter closed the door. She then flicked her wand and the oil lamp on the bedside table and a couple of candles on the dresser in the corner lit up.

Gregorovitch lay in bed, propped up against several pillows. In the dim light of the room the old wand maker looked almost see-through and very frail. Thin strands of silvery grey hung in front of his bony, thin face. Several large blisters covered his hands and his face. Andromeda could smell the rotten stench of the paste that was supposed to treat them but by now she had gotten so used to it that it didn't turn her stomach any longer. Tired grey eyes fluttered open when Gregorovitch became aware of the other people in the room. For a second he seemed frightened but he relaxed when he recognised the witch who had saved him.

"How are you feeling?" Andromeda asked softly and perched on the side of the bed. Tonks remained standing, her hands pushed casually into the pockets of her jeans.

"I'll live," Gregorovitch croaked. He spoke with a strong East European accent. "Thank you for saving me. I do not dare think about what would have become of me if you hadn't found me."

Andromeda didn't allow that thought to dwell on her mind. She folded her hands in her lap and tried to choose her words carefully. "Mr Gregorovitch, are you aware of what has been happening around us in the last few months? Who or what is responsible for this destruction?"

"Garrick told me about it," Gregorovitch answered and the echo of fear and sadness laced his words. "He told me it happened because of the wands he created decades ago. They finally found each other."

Andromeda nodded slowly. "The wands belong to Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy and Hermione Granger." She saw the reflection of a memory in Gregorovitch's eyes. "Bellatrix and Narcissa are my sisters, sir. Together with Hermione they unleashed evil into this world in a way we have never seen it before. All of this happened because of them, because of the Cores that reside within those wands." She swallowed. "Ollivander told us about the dragon."

"It was a monstrous creature," Gregorovitch sighed. "I have seen many dragons in my lifetime, my dear child. I have seen plenty of mysterious creatures but until this day I have not encountered anything as fierce, as angry and as dangerous as that Hungarian Horntail. Its heart was the size of three human heads and it only stopped beating after it was cut from its chest."

"What made you decide to use the heart strings?" Tonks curiously asked.

"Dragon heart strings have always been considered to be extremely powerful. The more aggressive the dragon, the stronger the heart and the better it will be to use for a wand," Gregorovitch explained. "When I saw that heart, I knew it was powerful. But I feared it as well. I feared its strength more than I admired it. I considered making the wands but I couldn't. Garrick offered to make them instead. In his opinion the heart was a shame to be wasted. So he collected the three strongest heart strings and placed them inside three separate wands. Soon he learnt that they could not be kept near each other in the shop. It was like they didn't want to be separated."

Andromeda frowned. "What do you mean when you say that the wands could not be kept near each other?"

"Strange things happened. Boxes of wands would be blown off shelves. Stuff that would normally only happen if a witch or a wizard didn't use a wand that was suitable for them," the old wand maker explained. "Garrick kept the three wands in different parts of his shop. Then one day, someone came and the only box to fall from the shelf…"

"Was the wand that chose my sister," Andromeda finished the old man's sentence. "The same thing happened when Narcissa and Hermione came to buy their wands. What made the wand choose them? Ollivander said that it recognised something inside of them. Something dark."

Gregorovitch shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It pained him to speak of the wands, of what he and Ollivander had created. In a way they had unleashed hell and damnation upon this world. "Every wand recognised qualities within the witch or wizard it chooses. Their personalities, their soul and their heart match somehow. The wand chooses its owner, not the other way around. Magic is a curious thing. But dragon heart string wands lean more towards darker magic. Not all, of course, but many do. They can easily be turned. Those three wands saw something in their owners no other witch or wizard could see."

"Ollivander made it sound like the wand can think or feel for itself," Andromeda said slowly. "Is that what you're saying too?"

"The wand becomes part of the witch or wizard, my child," Gregorovitch said. "And these three wands are no different. They were made in a moment of anger, taken away from a single heart and separated into three. They weren't created to be evil but they had little other choice than to feed on the darkness, the anger and the hatred that still lived within them when they were made. As time goes on, they feed of their owners feelings but instil more darkness inside of them as well."

Andromeda's eyes widened. "You're saying that the wands are controlling them? Not the other way around?"

"The perfect partnership between witch and wand," Gregorovitch said softly. "The wand lore about the wand choosing its owner runs far deeper than we ever knew or understood. In this case the core inside the wand recognised its owner's anger, the darkness within their hearts, and it formed itself after it. Those heart strings inside the wand still feel and reflect the fire and the strength of the dragon they were taken from."

"The core has memories?" Tonks shook her head in disbelief. "Do you mean to say that they actually remember being part of each other, of living inside that dragon?"

"Not like that exactly," Gregorovitch breathed. He seemed tired and the longer he talked, the paler he became. "But in a way, yes. It is a feeling more than a memory. We should have known those heart strings were no good. Garrick even said it himself. He wished he would never have to sell the wand to anyone. He did not dare think what would become of them if the power of the core would find and recognise the darkness and power inside a witch or wizard."

"The core's own dark origin is part of what it makes its owner do," Andromeda concluded and Gregorovitch nodded. "If what you're saying is true than the wand is responsible as well as the person who uses it. Does the wand feed of their anger, of their hatred? Does it use it to make itself stronger?" When Gregorovitch weakly nodded, she frowned. "So Hermione has darkness inside of her, the wand recognised it when she first entered Ollivander's shop, and attached itself to her, waiting for it to come out. Like a predator waiting for its prey. It's scary to think a wand can sense so much about a person."

"Not all wands, Andromeda," Gregorovitch interjected and she looked up, surprised. "Only those who were created from darkness or from light possess this strength. The wands created only for evil have been known to possess the same qualities too. "Has anyone ever told you the tale of the Deathly Hallows?"

"Rosmerta mentioned something the other day," Andromeda replied. "I don't think I have ever heard of them before."

"Are you familiar with the Tale of the Three Brothers?" Gregorovitch asked and he glanced at Tonks. The bright haired Auror nodded and looked back at her mother. Andromeda nodded.

"I used to read it to Nymphadora when she was little."

"Do you remember the story?"

"Three brothers were on their way and came upon a river. Trained in magic, they built a bridge. They were confronted by Death, who would normally claim those who tried to pass the river and drown. To congratulate the brothers on deceiving him, he offered them each a wish. The first brother asked for a wand more powerful than any other and Death created one from a nearby Elder tree," Tonks said softly. As she was talking, she remembered her mother sitting on her bed, reading the story by candle light. "The first brother used the wand in a duel in the nearby village but was promptly killed in his sleep that night by a thief who took the wand. So Death claimed the first brother."

"The second brother asked for a way to bring loved ones back from the dead. So Death took a stone from the river and told the second brother to turn it thrice in hand. The second brother went on his way and once home turned the stone in his hand and his dead lover appeared. But those who died do not belong in the mortal world and soon his lover became sad and cold and the second brother took his own life to be with her and Death claimed the second brother," Andromeda said and her gaze met her daughter's. She saw the hint of a smile on her lips, just like she used to do when she was little.

"The third brother asked for a way to move along without Death being able to claim him so Death created an Invisibility cloak. No matter how long he looked, he could not find the third brother to claim him. Many years later, the third brother removed his cloak and gave it to his son before greeting Death. They left this world as equals," Tonks finished the story.

Gregorovitch nodded. "There is your answer."

Andromeda swallowed. "Am I missing something here?"

"The Deathly Hallows," Gregorovitch whispered. "The Elder wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Cloak of Invisibility. Together they form what is known as the Deathly Hallows. Some would say it could make one the Master of Death."

"People actually believe something like that exists?" Andromeda tried to hide her scepticism. "These days one would argue that the only powerful wands in this world are the Cores."

"I have held one of the Hallows in my very hands," Gregorovitch said. His voice was stronger than before and Andromeda saw something ignite in his eyes. Something that wasn't just a memory. It was, perhaps, best described as longing. "They exist, my child. I have held, and lost, the wand the story speaks off. There is no wand more powerful than the Elder Wand."

"If the wand is real, then why hasn't anyone used it against the Cores yet?" Andromeda wondered. "You would have thought they'd come forward."

"I lost track of the wand a long time ago," Gregorovitch sighed. "I don't know who stole it or where it went. Somewhere along the lines of history, it vanished. I don't think anyone has seen it for years. But your question is correct; the wand would be able to fight against and most likely defeat the Cores."

"What would happen if just one wand is destroyed?" Andromeda asked and Tonks gave her mother a warning glare. "Is the ties between wand and owner are severed beyond repair?"

"The owner will suffer a great loss but the circle of darkness and hatred will be broken. The wand can no longer feed off the witch it belongs to and it also can no longer send the darkness and hatred back inside of her. Her heart would break and she would be in a great deal of pain. The darkness would remain inside of her but it can be dealt with, even fought against, without the wand," Gregorovitch said slowly. "But those Cores are not going to let you just destroy them."

"I know," Andromeda answered. "Ollivander was working on a wand based on Fiendfyre or Ashwinder eggs." She saw Gregorovitch grimace. "He failed to produce one and I am afraid he will not be producing anything else either."

"Garrick always was an overachiever," the old wand maker groaned. "First the Cores, then Fiendfyre. You'd think that after making the wands for You-Know-Who and Potter, he wouldn't need anything else to prove himself. Wands based on Fiendfyre or Ashwinder eggs are impossible to create." He gave Andromeda a dark look. "No discussion. It can't be done."

"Very well," Andromeda sighed and slipped off the bed. "We'll let you rest now, sir. Thank you for talking to us." She walked across the room but turned around before opening the door. "You really believe the Elder Wand can destroy the Cores?"

Gregorovitch looked at her. "I have held that wand in my hand, Andromeda. I know what it can do."

She set her jaw. "I guess there is only one thing left for me to do." She looked at her daughter. "I'll have to find the bloody thing and put an end to all of this, once and for all."