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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.


Before Draco even had a moment to consider what Daphne had said, she had leapt onto her feet, gesturing at him to join her. Unsure of what exactly was going on, he clambered up.

"Daphne," he started, an eyebrow raised. "What are you thinking?"

"I think I know what's going on with your little book," she replied, excitement evident in her voice. "We need to talk to the others."

"Honest, Daph, I think I'd rather be trampled by hippogriffs that talk to Potter one more time today…"

"Please," she scoffed, shaking her head, blonde curls moving around her face. "Do you think one of them would have the information you need? No, for this we need the others. Our others."

Realization hit him like a battering ram. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if sharing the knowledge, he had about Dumbledore's will with the others was going to be appropriate, or just damn the task from the start.

Sensing his apprehension, Daphne reached over and took his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

"You don't have to tell us everything," she said softly, her blue eyes tracing over his face. "But you never let us help you the first time around, when you needed support… let us help you now. You don't have to hold the world on your shoulders. You know she wouldn't want you."

Draco's mind held onto the pronoun for a moment, wondering when Daphne Greengrass had acquired such a sharp knowledge of Hermione Granger and her wishes. However, the she was not specified. Realization swept over him.

Pansy.

He looked down at Daphne, and after a few more seconds of consideration, he nodded.

A smile lit up her face, and with their hands still entwined, she began to lead him downstairs.

When they reached a door on the second landing, she let go of his hand and knocked before entering. Draco followed her into the room, and met the stares of Blaise and Theo.

"Well," the newest arrival drawled, hazel eyes narrowed. "Come to attack me again?"

"Not today, mate," Draco responded sardonically, closing the door and leaning against it. Daphne took her place next to Theo on one of the small beds.

"Draco and I just had an interesting conversation," she started, placing her head on her partner's shoulder, as he leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"Did you kick his ass for us?" Theo muttered, closing his eyes for a moment with his lips tracing Daphne's temple.

"Absolutely," Daphne smirked, her eyes dancing up to meet Draco's once again. "We had a nice conversation about sharing difficulties with your friends and asking for help."

"Is 'nice' the word?" Blaise asked, leaning back against the wall, a smirk appearing on his face.

"Daphne felt the need to bring up four-year-old grievances," Draco said, frowning slightly.

The witch shook her head, chuckling slightly. "Doesn't matter how long it's been if we still give a shit."

Blaise raised an imaginary glass to the sky. "Cheers to that."

"I established that we all loved Draco and wanted to be able to help him," Daphne said, glancing around the room at the other men. "Even if he shut us out before."

"Excellent, Daph," Theo murmured, smiling slightly. "You finally wrung him out for all that shit in sixth year?"

"With precision."

"Gods, I love you," Theo muttered, eyes only for Daphne. Draco looked on at the moment that passed between the couple. For a second, it was as if Blaise and he were not even there, and all that Theo could see was Daphne. If all he could ever see was Daphne. It was so different than the last time he had seen the two interact; sixth year, in the middle of teenage nonsense, at each other's throats, hating the other one day, and unable to live without them the next.

Now all he saw was peace.

He felt momentarily jealous about the ease with which the two interacted. And then he felt sad, that he had not been there to watch their relationship grow.

You decided that hating yourself was more important than the people who loved you.

Daphne's words echoed in his mind for a moment. She was right, wasn't she? He had chosen to shut them all out, his oldest friends, the only people who really understood him, cared for him, stood by him. For what?

A mark on his arm and a lifetime of nightmares.

Blaise glanced over at him, noticing his pensive expression. "Something on your mind, mate?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the words got caught in his throat. What could he say? What sort of blanket apology could he offer these people, who after everything – with no reason to – still seemed to care about him. And he had wronged them. Left them. Hurt them.

And here they all were.

Except one. The one person he'd never get a chance to thank.

"I'm sorry," Draco started, with Pansy at the forefront of his mind, as Blaise and Theo's faces filled with astonishment. Daphne just smirked. "For… well, everything."

There was a beat of silence, as the group processed his words.

"Merlin, Daphne," Blaise whispered, glancing back at the witch. "You absolutely wrecked him."

"I had four years to prepare, Blaise," she replied. "I thought up some good lines."

Theo chuckled beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist. He glanced back at Draco. "Well, mate. As long as you don't attack me again today, and maybe try some communication, I say let bygones be bygones."

"I've already forgiven you for mostly everything," Blaise shrugged. "Says more about how excellent of a friend I am than how trash you are."

"The love in this room is overwhelming," Draco replied sarcastically. But he couldn't help a feeling of lightness that overcame him.

Because in truth, it was.

Daphne glanced over at him and gave him a small nod. "Well, if all's forgiven between you boys, then I think we need to move on to the matter at hand."

"There's something more important than Draco groveling for forgiveness?"

Daphne nudged Theo with her shoulder and gestured to the book sitting on her lap. "We have a mystery to solve."

"A mystery?" Blaise muttered, rolling his eyes. "What are we, The Golden Trio circa 1993?"

"I found Draco upstairs looking at this book," Daphne continued, ignoring Blaise. "It's a copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard."

"I take it back. The Golden Trio circa 1985."

"Blaise," Daphne snapped, a rare burst of annoyance shining through her otherwise composed demeanor. "This is important."

Blaise had the sense to look bashful. "Sorry, Daph. I just don't see the connection."

"Well maybe if you let her explain…"

"Ten points to Theo."

"Boys," Daphne snapped again, and the two bickering friends were silenced. The Greengrasses always knew how to command a room.

"m' sorry, Daphne."

"Yeah, sorry."

Her blue eyes danced around for a moment, something Draco couldn't quite recognize twinkling beneath her irises.

"What are you thinking, Daph?" Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow.

She smiled at him. "I don't know. It just feels like old times. Bickering in the common room. It feels like before the war."

He couldn't help but smile back at her.

She turned back to Blaise. "Anyway, we don't have time to get emotional right now. The reason this book is important is because Albus Dumbledore left it to Hermione Granger in his will."

Whatever Blaise and Theo were expecting Daphne to say, it certainly wasn't that.

"Are you… fucking shitting me, Daphne?" Blaise exclaimed, eyebrows reaching his hairline. "The greatest wizard to ever live left the most powerful witch of our generation a children's book?"

"He didn't know Hermione was a Le Fay," Draco pointed out.

Blaise shot him a look. "I doubt that, honestly. Nothing got past that mind. It was as if he were an oracle in his own right."

"He didn't know Snape was going to kill him," Draco murmured, the words exiting his mouth before he had a moment to think them through.

There was a pause.

"No, I suppose he didn't," Blaise said quietly.

"But back to the book," Theo interjected, looking between Blaise and Draco awkwardly. "So, our favourite murdered headmaster left Draco's true love a children's book? Why?"

Before Draco could retort, Daphne was flipping frantically through the pages.

"That's what Draco was trying to figure out when I went to talk to him," she murmured. "He hadn't a clue, so he let me take a peek at the book, and I think I might've found it…"

The pages opened, and Daphne lifted The Tales of Beedle the Bard to show Blaise and Theo. Their reactions were instantaneous and opposite.

Blaise frowned. "Why is Grindelwald's symbol in a book…"

Theo swore. "Oh, for the love of Merlin's hairy ballsack…"

Daphne shot Theo a look before continuing. She ran her finger over the symbol at the top of the page. "It's drawn in, Blaise. Dumbledore drew it in."

"Again, why would Dumbledore have drawn Grindelwald's symbol in a book. He bloody well defeated the guy…"

"Because, Blaise," Theo breathed, suddenly white as a sheet. "That symbol didn't originally belong to Grindelwald."

"Makes sense, it's hard to think of new shapes."

Theo ignored him. "That's the symbol of the Deathly Hallows."

Blaise looked at Theo for a moment, as realization washed over him in waves. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall.

"What is with the place and long-forgotten wizarding legends?" he muttered. "I'm in hell. This is hell."

"Could anyone fill me in on what the Deathly Hallows are?" Draco chimed in, looking between his friends.

"Old wizarding legend, mate," Theo said. "You know The Tale of the Three Brothers, right?"

"Been forever since I read it," he replied, scratching absentmindedly at his arm. "Something about a cloak…"

"There were the three brothers, apparently the Peverell brothers," Daphne explained. "And they all escaped Death. And in return, Death gave them all a gift so they could beat death in the future. One brother received the most powerful wand in the world. One brother received a stone to bring back the dead. The third brother received a powerful invisibility cloak."

"Oh right," Draco muttered, the story coming back to him. "And the first two brothers were too arrogant, or some shit, and Death got them, and the third brother lived a long life and gave the cloak to his son, right?"

"Exactly," Daphne nodded. "And so, the three items in the story; the wand, the stone, and the cloak, together they make up the Deathly Hallows. And the legend says that whoever unites the three objects will have the power to beat death."

"The legend," Draco said slowly. "So, we're giving credence to some fanciful wizarding legend based on a children's book? It's just a story."

"So was the Mark of Morganna," Blaise said quietly, eyes still closed. "And we all know how real that turned out to be."

Draco was silenced.

"So, you think that Dumbledore wanted Hermione and her two sidekicks to unite the Hallows?" Theo asked, face still pale, eyes on Daphne.

She nodded. "That man had a reason for everything, even if it revealed itself later. This mark was drawn in. We've all seen too much to believe that it's meaningless."

"And what does this have to do with Gellert Grindelwald?"

"It's Grindelwald's symbol, too," Theo explained. "The old bastard drew it into the walls of Durmstrang. Legend has it… that Grindelwald tried to unite the Hallows. And failed."

"You know what this means, right Daphne?" Blaise said, shaking his head slowly.

"Yes," she replied, before turning her gaze to Draco. "Time for you to go get Potter and Weasley."

Draco couldn't help but groan. "Daphne, do you know how many fucking meetings I've had to endure with those two morons?"

"Get ready for another," Daphne said resolutely. "I think it might be time to unite the houses. There's something bigger going on here. And I think we might hold the key."


"You're kidding. You must be absolutely kidding."

The words of the century were spoken by one Ronald Weasley, after Daphne had explained to him and Potter her theory about the book, the mark, and the intentions of Albus Dumbledore.

Draco had finally sat in a conjured chair and barely listened to Daphne's explanation as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Potter and Weasley had been understandably annoyed when Draco had knocked on their door to request an inter-house meeting. But, perhaps due to curiosity, or in Hermione's honour, or just out of plain boredom, they had followed him downstairs to join up with Theo, Blaise, and Daphne. The scene had been awkward, to say the least, but Daphne had commanded their attention quickly, explaining her theory to dumbfounded expressions.

"I'm not kidding, Weasley," Daphne shook her head. "The mark is drawn in. Why else would he have given it to Hermione? It's a puzzle."

"Hermione can solve puzzles in her sleep," Weasley said. "And she never mentioned this mark."

"She probably didn't know what it was," Theo chimed in. "We only notice things as they accrue meaning. Everything else is just white noise."

"And it may be a wizarding legend," Blaise interjected. "But we all know the sway those hold in this here Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix."

Weasley looked dumbstruck. Potter just frowned.

"Listen, Potter," Daphne continued. "We all know that your mission is to kill the Dark Lord. Everyone with wizarding blood on this continent knows that. What better way to do that than uniting the Hallows and mastering death?"

"But that's the thing," Potter responded. "Dumbledore hated the idea of beating death. He always spoke about death as… inevitable. As going to sleep at the end of a long day. Mastering it? It just doesn't seem like the man I knew…" his words trailed off.

Suddenly, he sat up straighter, and turned to the Weasel.

"What about the book? The Skeeter book?" the Chosen one said quietly, something flickering behind his expression.

"Harry, come on, you know that's a pile of lard…"

"Maybe, maybe not," Potter said quietly, a thoughtful look on his face. His eyes met Daphne's. "We… we went to Godric's Hollow and found this book that Skeeter's planning on publishing about Dumbledore. A tell-all. It said… it said that Dumbledore was friends with Gellert Grindelwald."

Strained silence filled the room.

"This whole day feels like following a treasure map," Blaise muttered. "Obvious. It's so fucking obvious."

"Sorry," Draco shook his head, suddenly lost. "We know that the Hallows symbol is also Grindelwald's symbol, but Dumbledore was friends with the guy? The lightest wizard ever known was friends with Gellert Grindelwald?"

Potter met his gaze, his jaw tensed, as he considered his words carefully.

"Lots of people do stupid things when they're young, Malfoy. You of all people would know."

Though he was loathed to admit it, that promptly shut him up.

"Legend has it that Grindelwald was trying to unite the Hallows," Daphne explained. "That's why his symbol is the same as the Hallows symbol. He apparently failed, but he sure tried."

Suddenly, the Weasel sat up straight, his back almost cracking with the effort.

"He beat him," Weasley said slowly, as if tasting how the words worked before uttering them. "Dumbledore. In 1945. He beat him, Grindelwald, in a wizarding duel."

Though Potter still looked confused, a ripple of understanding shot through the other members of the meeting.

"Of course," Daphne breathed, nodding slowly. "He… he beat Grindelwald."

"Are you all smoking something?" Potter interrupted. "He beat him. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Besting something in a wizarding duel can mean any number of results," Blaise explained, shaking his head in disbelief. "But first and foremost, it means that the other wizard loses control of his wand. Either by disarming, or being killed, or being knocked out. When Dumbledore beat Grindelwald, he must've taken his wand."

"So?" Potter asked, looking around. "He took the guy's wand. Neat."

"Harry Potter, it is genuinely incredible to me sometimes that you're supposed to save us," Theo muttered, rolling his eyes. "Dumbledore beat Grindelwald and took his wand. Remember that the wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter? Wands have allegiances. When Dumbledore beat Grindelwald, Grindelwald's wand became loyal to Dumbledore. The same Dumbledore drew the symbol of the Deathly Hallows in a book for Hermione to find. Remember the Hallows? The cloak, the stone…"

"The wand," Potter continued, finally understanding, his face stricken. "You're telling me that Dumbledore has your Hallowed wand?"

"Elder Wand," Theo explained. "Have some respect Potter, use the proper name."

Potter shot him a glare, before leaning back in the chair.

"I mean," he said slowly, glancing around the group. "It makes sense. Weird sense, but still sense."

"Poetic," Blaise chuckled.

"But, I can't believe that we didn't see this before," Potter continued. "Hermione spent a year reading that book every night and never noticed this symbol. And some how you lot show up here…"

"What a way to explain our arrival, Potter…"

"And suddenly it holds the clues to all our problems?" Potter stated, ignoring Blaise's interjection. "I'm sorry, it just doesn't follow."

Daphne laughed, a light, twinkling sound that seemed to lift the energy in the room by several degrees.

"Listen, Potter," she said, still chuckling. "I don't think it's necessarily that we showed up and solved all your problems. I think that sometimes you Gryffindors have trouble asking for help. You're so used to saving the world by yourself. Reality is that you don't have the answer. Who knows how far you would be if you had brought this book to your Order three years ago? But you didn't, did you?"

Potter shook his head slowly.

"There you go," Daphne continued. "This world isn't just yours, Potter. It belongs to all of us. As does the world we'll win, if you kill the Dark Lord and achieve your destiny, or whatever you call it. But you are still human. And humans need help. There's only so much your little group knows. Though Hermione Granger is brilliant, she does not hold all of wizarding history in her brain, and Merlin knows the two of you don't."

Surprisingly, Potter let out a gruff laugh.

"You're quite something, you know that, Greengrass?"

She shrugged. "I have my moments. But you know we're right. It makes sense. Your whole schtick is The Boy Who Lived, right? What else would you call mastering death?"

Something about Daphne's statement seemed to resonate with Potter. The Boy Who Wouldn't Die turned to Weasley and whispered something to him. Draco couldn't catch the whole sentence, but he did hear one line.

"…while the other survives…"

The Weasel went white, and the two exchanged a look. After a moment, Potter turned back to the Slytherins.

"Alright," he started. "Say you're right. And to beat the Dark Lord I need to unite the Hallows and master death. So, on top of everything else I need to do, I now need to get Dumbledore's wand…"

Daphne shook her head. "Remember, Potter, Dumbledore won the Elder Wand from Grindelwald by beating him in a duel. Dumbledore's dead, and the wand would pass in allegiance to the wizard who bested him. So, actually you need to get…"

"Snape's wand," Potter concluded, suddenly pale. "This keeps getting better."

"I thought they buried Dumbledore's wand with him," Blaise interjected. "Read it in the paper."

"Doesn't matter," Daphne said. "You won't be able to use the wand until you beat Snape in a duel, disarm him, as we all know you love to do. Even if Snape is using the same wand he has used since age eleven, you would need to beat him for the Elder Wand to recognize you as his rightful owner."

"So, I need to take Snape's wand," Potter said drily. Next to him, the Weasel lifted an eyebrow, and turned to Draco.

"Malfoy," he started, voice shaking slightly. "Didn't you say that Snape doesn't go on missions?"

Draco nodded. "Never has. More of a background guy. Last technical mission he went on, I guess, was the night he killed Dumbledore…"

He trailed off, and suddenly felt like he had been hit by a train.

"Of fucking course," he breathed. "Can't be beaten in a duel if you never give another wizard the opportunity."

"Snape's been staying behind on missions so the allegiance of the Elder Wand can't transfer," Potter said slowly.

And all the puzzle pieces fell into place.

"I never understood why," Draco admitted. "And Snape never told me. But why else would he? He's a brilliant wizard, wouldn't have much to fear. Except losing control of the Elder Wand."

Weasley groaned. "Why couldn't Dumbledore have just written a detailed letter? I'm so tired of these damn mysteries and puzzles."

Potter was shaking his head. "All this time. It was all right there…"

"That's what happens when you ask for help, boys," Daphne chimed in. "Makes a difference."

"So that's the wand," Theo continued. "What about the stone and the cloak? Either of you two Gryffindors have a clue where those two are?"

Potter frowned. "No idea. It's not like Dumbledore ever handed me a rock to bring back the dead or a cloak…."

The Chosen One's words died mid-air.

"No fucking way," he whispered, shock all over his face. Next to him, Weasley seemed to have drawn the same conclusion. He was gaping opening.

"Care to share?" Blaise asked.

Potter closed his eyes. "Dumbledore gave me an invisibility cloak. For my eleventh birthday."

Draco almost laughed. "This man was setting you up for years, Potter."

"An invisibility cloak?" Theo asked. "You had an invisibility cloak at Hogwarts?"

Potter nodded. "We used it to sneak out at night. For missions. Shit like that."

"Ever sneak into the girl's dormitory…"

Theo didn't have time to duck before Daphne promptly smacked him.

Draco felt like a gaping fish. "All those years. You had a fucking invisibility cloak?"

Potter nodded. "I was there that night, you know. At the top of the Astronomy Tower."

The shock hit Draco like lightning. "You were there?"

"Under the invisibility cloak," he muttered. "I saw the whole thing. Snape kill Dumbledore… you… I saw you lower your wand."

The declaration was followed by stunned silence. The shocked eyes of friends and enemies turned to him, as he stared forward, trying to fight the flush he could feel steadily creeping up his neck.

Draco had never admitted aloud that he had lowered his wand. That he had changed his mind. At the very last second. Way too late for it to matter. Way too late to redeem to his soul.

It had never mattered anyway. Snape had run up those stairs and completed his task for him.

So, he had forgotten. Over the years, it had never really come up. As he fell deeper into the Death Eaters' circle, the fact that he hadn't killed Dumbledore had always been seen as a moment of weakness. Not a choice.

Not a moment of agency.

"You lowered your wand?" Blaise whispered. Theo and Daphne looked stricken.

Draco nodded tersely. "I… I couldn't do it. We all know that."

Potter watched him for a moment. "No. You chose not to. I always thought it was because you chickened out or got scared. But… with everything that's happened lately, I think differently now. You chose not to kill Dumbledore."

Draco felt the eyes of everyone in the room on him. "Didn't make a difference, did it, Potter?"

"Not to Dumbledore," the other man shrugged. "But in a lot of ways, yes. It did make a difference."

Draco had no idea what to say. He glanced around desperately, feeling suddenly panicked. Blaise was watching him, his mouth slightly open. Theo's brows were furrowed. Daphne met his gaze head on. In her eyes, all he saw was pity.

"So, Dumbledore gave you the cloak?" Daphne asked, steering the conversation back to the Hallows. Draco shot her a grateful look.

Potter nodded. "I've had it for ten years now. Always worked perfect."

"That never made much sense to me," Weasley said. "Invisibility cloaks are only supposed to last a few years, and those are the expensive ones. But your cloak, blimey, Harry. How did we not know it was special before?"

"Because Dumbledore only ever reveals information at the strategic moment," Potter replied drily, bitterness in his voice.

"So is Dumbledore a descendant of the youngest brother from the story, then?" Blaise asked. "I thought the cloak was passed down from father to son."

At Blaise's words, Potter's gaze snapped to the Slytherin.

"Dumbledore wasn't," he answered slowly. "The cloak belonged… it belonged to my dad."

The revelation was met with quiet groans.

Potter raised an eyebrow. "Issue?"

Theo bit. "It's just… listen Potter. Nothing against you, personally. But how on earth are you the last descendant of the Peverell brothers? It just fits so well. It's unbelievable. And if we were watching all the pieces fall together around anyone else but Harry fucking Potter, I wouldn't believe it."

Weasley chuckled. "He's got a point, Harry."

Potter flushed, eyes on the ground. "I already have the cloak," he said, awkwardly moving the conversation back on topic. "It's upstairs. One Hallow down. And I need to beat Snape to get the wand. What the stone? Dumbledore never gave me a rock."

Draco sighed. "What did Theo just say, Potter? It all fits so well. The final puzzle piece. In the story, the resurrection stone is a tiny pebble from a riverbank. Every seen a pebble, Potter? Small, little rocks they are. A single one would probably fit inside another item neatly. An item like…"

"A snitch," Potter breathed, as it all finally clicked. "I fucking hate it here."

"Same, Potter," Theo said. "What about a snitch?"

"Dumbledore left Potter a snitch," Draco explained. "It says I open at the close on it. I'd bet the entire Malfoy fortune that whenever you figure out what the close is, Potter, you'll find yourself with the resurrection stone in your hand."

"Dumbledore set this all up for you," Daphne said softly, glancing at Potter and Weasley. "The Hallows. Don't you see? He wants you to unite them."

Potter glanced at Draco. "And among other things, defeat the Dark Lord."

Daphne smiled. "See what happens when you let other people in, Potter?"

"Technically, Draco let you in," Potter pointed out.

"Oh, he needs to learn the same lesson," Daphne said, shrugging. "Maybe it's a man thing."

Weasley snorted. "Great to have you on the team, Greengrass."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that we are? On the team?"

"You just solved a three-year problem in an hour," Potter said. "I guess that qualifies."

"What about me and Theo?" Blaise chimed in. "We helped."

"I still think you're a piece of shit, Zabini. Jury's out on Nott."

"Thrilling," Blaise replied sardonically, as Theo burst out laughing.

Daphne glanced around the room. "So now what?"

"Hmm?" Potter asked.

"Hermione's on her secret mission," Daphne continued. "And no, Draco, before you ask, Theo won't tell me either. You three apparently also have a quest on the table. Blaise, Theo, and I figured out your Hallows problem. The common denominator of all three is ending the war and defeating the Dark Lord. So, Potter. What next?"

Daphne's implication was here. She wanted to help. Draco frowned. Daphne had always been neutral. Just like Theo. Just like Blaise. Yet here they all were, sitting, eager, ready to help a man they had all despised since age eleven.

This was it. Draco felt it in his bones. It really was the end now, wasn't it?

The eleventh hour. The war was going to end. And they would either win the world they wanted or lose everything.

Hermione's face flashed through his mind, as Daphne's words rang through his mind.

"You don't have to tell us everything. You never let us help you the first time around, when you needed support… let us help you now. You don't have to hold the world on your shoulders. You know she wouldn't want you."

"Daphne," Draco said slowly, his eyes on Potter. After a moment, the Chosen One nodded.

Permission.

Draco sighed, and turned to his three oldest friends.

"Have any of you ever considered breaking into Gringotts?"


Review :) We're nearing the end now, folks