Summary: Three years later, and everyone has found their ending. Except Harry. And he soon realizes that his life has another twist to introduce. Or rather, his death does.

A/N: My favorite scene still hasn't popped up here yet, but it will soon. Real soon. I just keep trying to fit in more of the story before it and the interesting character pop up because then the story turns in a different sort of direction than how it's been so far. Anyway, just so you understand, Malfoy Convo is going to be cut up and may never really see an ending. The information it holds, however, is vital.

Lower London

"How did you know I had them?" The blond looks at him, unresponsive for a long period of silence before uttering a short reply. "Mother and Father were there when he…'killed' you. They managed to gather information afterward, and shared their findings with me in case I needed it." Malfoy is subdued again, but in a more solemn rather than a submissive way. Harry finds that answer acceptable. Voldemort, towards his last hours, wasn't so much concerned with secrecy when he seemed to have the entire world falling into his grasp. The Hallows had a history of tending to do that...

"They aren't only a children's story, right?" Malfoy's eyes meet his, swirling with a question before he nods curtly and turns his gaze elsewhere.

"They are a story based on the legends passed down through generations of every British Pureblood family. The Malfoy's migrated here from France long enough ago to be let in on it, and from my mother's side," His eyes flickered towards him again, "The Blacks have long-held the story as well." He coughed, and leaned forward on the table after a brief pause,

"Are you sure you know nothing about the Hallows?" There was no sign of the fain fear or frustration from before on that pale, pointed face. The blond was back to being stately Lord Malfoy. Harry shook his head and replied,

"All I know is what was in Beadle the Bard's book. The one who can gather the three Hallows-"

"Becomes the Master of Death," Malfoy finishes for him. Harry cocks an eyebrow,

"And what exactly does that mean? The invisibility cloak, the stone and-"

"Do you have the wand, Potter?" Malfoy seemed to want to lead the conversation into another direction , but Harry was having none of that.

"I want to know what it-"

"Do you have the Deathstick, Potter?" Harry, taken aback by the sharp question, shakes his head.

"I don't." Malfoy looks at him searchingly, before nodding. He's never looked so controlled before. Harry can feel something important is about to happen. Maybe what Luna was talking about...

"Then I guess it's my duty to tell you," He sniffs, and Harry almost smiles.

"So that you can repay me, for all those other things I did for you. You obviously aren't saving my life so..." Malfoy doesn't respond, but some pink tinges his cheeks and a familiar spark appears in his eyes. "You wish Potter," He sneers mildly,

"I'm just fulfilling my duties as a Lord. From one to another. Not just placing my vote in the Wizengamot whenever it suits my random fancy or when my friend puts a motion on the floor. I have to find another way to repay the debt." Now it is Harry's turn to flush, but he turns his head so that his hair shades his face from view, "Just get on with it, Malfoy." The wizard sniffs, and gazes into the distance, an invisible cloak of ceremony drapes around him, and in return, starts to creep over him as well.

Something is unraveling.

"In the time of the one called Merlin, several centuries before the Founders were born and claimed his great legacy as their own, there was a tournament called forth by the gods to launch forward the bravest and strongest in pursuit of a divine, forgiving goal….to return to life after sudden death. To resurrect, if you will..."

And Harry cannot find it in himself to interrupt.

A/N: Who should pop up next? I'm thinking Neville.