AN - AJ Freas: Since the disillusionment spell doesn't have an incantation or wand movement, we created it - calamitatis. Calamitatis in latin is disillusion... according to Google Translate, but we all know that can be misleading.

AN - Elipsa: Sorry guys, I've been trying to update all day today... the site wouldn't let me on

We Still Love You.


"Okay Peter let's try this again."

"Calamitatis."

"Close, tap your head like this."

"Calamitatis."

"You have to swish and tap."

"Calamitatis."

"There you go!"

"Where?"

"Well... there."

"This is great! Thanks, Harry. Now I don't have to worry about those bloody Slytherins when I come back from walking Karen to her common-"

"Hey, where's Peter? I thought he was in here with you."

"He is."

"Is what?"

"Here with me."

"What? Where?"

Harry grinned and flicked his wand, "Finite."

"Pete!"

"Okay that's wicked. Why don't I know that spell?"

"Dunno; Mine offered to teach all of us the disillusionment spell back in our fourth year."

"What? When?"

Peter smirked, "One word, Sirius." He waited until Sirius and James looked at him expectantly. "Haliwinkles."

"I don't get it."

"Haliwinkles!" James howled with laughter, "I remember. That was bloody brilliant."

"I still don't get it!"

Peter patted his friend on his head and smiled, "It's okay, Snuffling Flowers. We still love you."


The Marauders were in the common room when the news came. They all knew it was coming. They had all hoped that Dorea would somehow make it through, but she hadn't. Each of the students reacted differently to the loss, but each felt as if a part of them had been brutally ripped away, reminding them that they were, after all, mortal and death came to claim them all at some point in time.

James read the notification before it dropped from his grasp. His voice hitched when he spoke, "I… I'm…" The young man cleared his throat and tried again, "I'm going up. I need to be alone." No one stopped him. No one spoke. They respected his need for solitude and kept silent as all eyes watched him retreat.

Lily picked up the parchment and gasped. Her hand covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes. Her voice was barely over a whisper when she spoke, "Dorea passed the Veil." She clutched the paper to her chest, squeezing her eyes shut.

Sirius fell on the couch, his head held in his hands. Remus and Peter plopped onto the floor with Hermione crawling onto Remus' lap to bury her face in his shoulder. Harry had taken one look around and knew he couldn't stay. He didn't know where he was heading to, but it had to be away: away from his friends, away from prying eyes, away from anyone who would even remotely consider questioning what was wrong or why he was reacting as strongly as he wanted to.

Harry fought back the tears, clenching his teeth and gripping his hands into fists. He reached down, grabbed the map and folded it carefully before putting it into his pocket. It was past curfew and he knew it was risky to leave, but he couldn't use the map to see if the coast was clear seeing how there were still other Gryffindors - non-Marauders - in the common room.

Apparently no one was paying any attention to Harry because no one called for him to wait or warned him not to leave. Perhaps they understood that he needed to be alone. Either way was fine with Harry.

The lady in pink tsked at him when he exited, but one look at the boy and she refrained from reprimanding him. She gave him a soft sigh and a solemn nod. Harry gave her a stiff nod because he didn't trust his voice and gently closed the portrait.

The moment Harry was in the hall, he ducked into the nearest hidden alcove. He grabbed the map and activated it. Harry searched the different floors, the marble staircase, and passageways for anyone or anything that would stand between where he was and where he was heading. Prefects were on the fourth and first floors. Head boy was wandering on the second floor with a prefect, Head girl... well, she was crying on her boyfriend in the common room of Gryffindor Tower. Harry closed his eyes and took a calming breath. There was a lot of ground to cover between the seventh floor where he stood and his destination, the dungeons. Harry had a passing thought to go back to borrow James' invisibility cloak, but the disillusionment charm had worked for him so far. He glanced back towards the direction of the portrait, remembering James' desire to be left alone. No, the charm would have to be enough.

"Mischief Managed," Harry whispered as he tapped the map with his wand. The boy proceeded to fold the map with care before putting it back in his pocket. Mentally preparing for the journey, it was time to physically prepare. With a swish and a tap of his wand on his head, "Calamitatis," the boy vanished.

Moving quickly, Harry went to the staircase. The way was clear, but that didn't mean it would stay that way until he made it to the bottom floor. Harry held the rail and moved as silently as he could. He could hear the soft chatter coming from a few floors below him where the prefects were apparently moving from the fourth floor to the fifth.

Harry was still reaching the sixth floor and wasn't overly concerned about getting caught. Once Harry reached the fifth floor, his steps hesitated. He could take the passageway from here to the second floor, possibly missing most of the danger of detection, but it would be a detour at best. Harry dismissed the idea and forced his feet to move again.

Stopping twice as the staircase adjusted and moved, Harry waited impatiently, resisting the urge to tap his foot. Hugging close to the shadows, Harry moved swiftly and silently. The urgency to reach his destination weighed on his mind, heart and soul.

He had lost his parents, but he hadn't known them. Sure he had been sad and even a bit angry with the injustice of it all, but he hadn't mourned their deaths. Harry missed them, yet never felt the loss, not like this. He was alone, but that was a different timeline, a different lifetime. The timeline he lived now, Harry knew his parents and at least one set of grandparents. But the loss of his grandmother affected him differently. The pain was too real. The loss was overwhelming and the urge to break down crying was simply too strong.

Harry had made it to the third floor before he was abruptly brought back to reality. The sound of footsteps broke through his revelry. Severus and Regulus were walking towards the marble staircase. Harry's heart lurched at the sight of his once Slytherin friend, one more person in this timeline that he had lost.

Regulus' annoyed, aristocratic drawl reached Harry when the stairs stopped. "I hate these staircases. They do it on purpose to annoy us."

Severus' deep voice carried an edge of impatience, "Yes, it is personal. The stairs hate you. The castle hates you." The sarcasm dripped from the teen's voice, not bothering to hide his disdain. "Not everything is about you, Black. Now shut it and move."

"What's gotten into you?" Regulus managed to sound offended.

Harry let his weight rest on the rail and waited until the other two moved to the opposite side in order to get up to the third floor. Once he noticed their eyes shift away from his direction, Harry was on the move again. There was another secret corridor on the third floor that would take him to the ground floor. If he hurried, Harry could make it behind the tapestry before the two Slytherins would be in position to see him enter the passageway.

Their voices grew distant and Harry wasted no time. He slipped behind the tapestry and heard Severus growl as he rounded on Regulus. "That's where you're wrong, Black. I do not have to explain anything to you."

While the lone Gryffindor could no longer see the two, he could hear them. From Regulus' reaction, Harry guessed that Severus pulled his wand. The younger boy blustered, "What? Why-"

"If you could manage to cease your prattling for more than two minutes," Severus cut the other boy off, "you'd know that someone is near."

"How-"

Severus hissed. Regulus managed to stop yammering. Harry held his breath, willing his heartbeat to slow so he could hear over the pounding in his chest. He edged away from the tapestry with a slow steady gait and didn't release his breath until he was at least halfway down the corridor and his lungs were simply screaming for relief.

Once he was free of the two Slytherins, Harry quickly made his way down to the lower levels and soon found himself walking down the Prowling Passage. His steps faltered and slowed. Harry took his time and looked at the paintings: Godric's Hollow, the Potter Home, and his nursery, Lily, James, Peter and Sirius.

Harry's throat tightened at the last painting as it materialized before his eyes. Hermione, Remus and Charlus were weeping over the graves of Lily and James. Charlus looked directly at Harry with a look of utter disappointment. The young wizard closed his eyes tightly and turned away. "Not this time."

The circular room awaited his arrival. Harry could almost feel the magic within quiver with anticipation. With renewed determination, Harry entered - wand drawn - to face his fears and failures. No one would needlessly die. Harry had to save them.


His emotions were still everywhere. He had no outlet except for the Room of Doom. His friends were going through similar pain, but not nearly to the extent Harry was… with the exception, of course, of James. James' pain from the loss of his mother would be much worse than what Harry was experiencing.

Harry stood in Dumbledore's office stroking Fawke's throat, smoothing the feathers with his fingertips. The motion was methodical, mind numbingly repetitive and oddly therapeutic. Dumbledore had been surprised by the young wizard's sudden arrival, but took the time to speak with the boy. Or more accurately, the old man tried to speak with Harry, but so far the teen in question was rather unresponsive. Therefore, the understanding headmaster waited until the troubled student finally spoke.

"I've managed to defeat my fears." Harry could feel Dumbledore's eyes on him, but he didn't turn to face his headmaster yet. "The Room of Doom was finally beaten, but nothing changed. I'm still alone and Dorea is still dead."

"The room doesn't bring back-"

"I know that." Harry snapped. His hand stilled and his head dropped. He schooled his emotions and proceeded to pet Fawkes again. "Apologies. My temper has been rather short lately. Still it isn't fair that I take out my frustrations on you."

"Understandable, my dear boy." Dumbledore was quiet, allowing Harry to continue.

Fawkes trilled. Harry gave a sad grin to the bird before making his way to Dumbledore's desk. He stood before the desk deep in thought. "May I ask you a question, sir?"

"By all means. Please, have a seat." The headmaster motioned towards the wing back chair near the fireplace and Harry shook his head, opting to stay standing where he was forcing Dumbledore to stay put as well.

Harry was fidgety, restless, his mind refused to slow down and he hadn't slept very well the past week. "Why?"

"Sorry, Harry. You'll need to be more specific."

"Why would you just blindly reach for that ring? What compelled you to just go at it? What is so bloody special about that damnable stone that you'd risk your life when so many of us still need you?" By the time Harry reached his third question he was shouting at the man he considered his mentor and surrogate grandfather. Harry squeezed his eyes shut and turned away.

The boy was trembling when Dumbledore finally made his way around his oak desk. The headmaster didn't speak for a while, giving the impression that he may not respond. Thin, yet deceptively strong, arms wrapped around the youth and pulled him into a warm hug. Harry stiffened at first, but allowed himself to be comforted.

They stood that way for some time while Harry pulled himself together. Once his tears calmed, Dumbledore lead Harry to the wing backed chairs that were situated before the fireplace and eased the young man into one. For once Dumbledore didn't mince words and refrained from being overly cryptic, "I'm sorry, Harry. That was very foolish of me."

He eased his frame into his own chair and summoned tea for the two of them, "I saw the ring and recognized the stone immediately. Do you recall the memory we watched with Ogden from the Ministry?" When Harry nodded that he did indeed remember that particular memory and its events, the man continued, "During his tirade Marvolo Gaunt mentioned the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone.

"Well, in my misspent youth, I had sought after the Hallows."

"Wait, the hollows? What are the hollows?" Harry's cup had paused inches from his lips when he had asked his question. He continued to sip his tea, listening with rapt interest to Dumbledore's tale.

"The Deathly Hallows," Dumbledore smiled patiently at the confused frown on his audience's face. "I sometimes forget that you were raised by Muggles, dear boy.

"Have you heard the story of The Tale of the Three Brothers, by Beedle the Bard?"

Harry bit his lip, lowering the tea cup and setting it aside. "Aunt Poppy told us the story after our third year during our first summer here. She was surprised when Hermione had found a book with fairy tales that we had never heard of before and thought it was of the utmost importance for us to hear the stories." Harry turned towards his headmaster and repeated what he could remember of the story told to him and his adopted sister so many years ago. "Three brothers crossed a river safely. Death wasn't happy about it and felt cheated because they used their magic. But because they 'won', he gave each a gift of their choosing. Oldest wanted a wand that couldn't be defeated. The middle missed his girl who died before they could get married and asked for the…"

His voice drifted at that point and his green eyes widened. "That was the resurrection stone?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore pulled his wand and flicked in the air nonverbally casting the flagrate spell and drew midair in flames. "Do you recall what the third brother had?"

"Invisi… James has it!"

This got Dumbledore's attention, his eyebrow raised. "Does he now?" The headmaster had completed the drawing of the Peverell coat of arms.

"Well he has one, maybe not that one."

"Cloaks like that are quite rare. Most lose their potency after a few years." Dumbledore pointed out each piece. First pointing at the line in the center, "This represents the Elder Wand." Next he pointed at the circle around the line, "That represents the Resurrection Stone." Last he pointed out the triangle that encompassed the others, "And that is the Invisibility Cloak." With a final flick of his wand, the design vanished. "Those are the Deathly Hallows. It is said that if one possesses these three artifacts, he… or she… would become the Master of Death."

Harry sat stunned, "But I thought it was just a story."

"Many stories are based on truth. You'd be surprised," Dumbledore smiled over his half-moon glasses.

"We need to figure out how to destroy the ring without destroying the stone."

"I have an idea on that." Harry peered at the old man and Dumbledore chuckled and continued, "Surely you recall how you destroyed the diary during your timeline…"

"Basilisk venom from a fang, but the snake has been dead for a few years now. Don't you think the venom would have dried up by now?"

"Perhaps, and how was the Basilisk destroyed?"

"Godric's sword."

"Which is Goblin made." Dumbledore continued when Harry shook his head in confusion, "the steel absorbs what is placed upon it. Blood, poison…"

"So we could theoretically use the sword since it has already killed the snake in this timeline!"

"Indeed."


AN - AJ Freas:

A note to Alyss - Thanks for the review and ... well ... I knew that ... but then, I thought, meh, this is already so way out there into AU world so who cares when the two actually met and since Luna is only a year younger than Harry & Hermione it could have happened.

(Can you tell I wrote that chapter?)

And you're spot on about the ring! The stone was the draw for old Dumbles, but not for power... he sorely missed his little sissy.

Keep the reviews coming. It makes my little girl very happy. She gets this adorable little grin and she claps like she did when she was a wee bairn.

AN Elipsa: *blushes* Anywho, here's the reason why the sword was still used against the basilisk. :)