Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling. The members of the Secret Sealing Club are the creations of ZUN.
Umbridge's notice is taken verbatim from Order of the Phoenix, Chapter 17. Belated Merry Christmas and have a happy new year!
Chapter 15 – Awakening of the Earth Spirits
BY ORDER OF THE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS
All student organisations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded.
An organisation, society, team, group or club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.
Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).
No student organisation, society, team, group or club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.
Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organisation, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.
The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.
Signed: Dolores Jane Umbridge, High Inquisitor
"Tch, about damn time." Harry, fresh from exercise in the morning November air, stared down the notice posted in big, bold lettering at the Entrance Hall. From beside him, an equally sweaty Neville looked on with slight worry.
"Harry?"
"Business as usual." Harry curtly said. "Tell the others if you see them. Make sure word gets to the Ravens as well, even Luna." He started walking off briskly, and Neville jogged to catch up.
With any luck, Terry will have those coins ready by this week.
"Even Luna? You're not going to tell her yourself?" Neville questioned.
"No." Harry said. "I probably should, since I have some questions I need to ask, but that'll have to wait."
Neville raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Unless you've heard of something called the Elder Wand?" Harry questioned.
Neville searched his mind for a bit. "Yeah, the wand of Death himself, said to be unbeatable. That's Beedle the Bard, Tale of Three Brothers or something."
"Any chance it's real?"
"No, it's a fairy tale." Neville shook his head in the negative, right before the implications set in. "Harry, you can't possibly be wanting to–"
"And why not?" Harry laughed, without mirth. "It's not as if I need to fight a Dark Lord with fifty more years of experience than me." At Neville's conflicted expression, Harry slapped him on the shoulder, a rare physical gesture of affection. "Just kidding. But," and Harry's voice returned to its serious tone, "Voldemort thinks it's real, and he's after it."
"How do you know this?"
"I dreamt it."
To his credit, Neville reacted took the words at face value. "When?"
"Last night. This morning." Harry replied. "All the same." Seeing the portrait of the Fat Lady in the distance, Harry changed the subject. "Not now. Oh, and for Potions later, Merlin says do not look Snape in the eyes, now that I've told you this."
"Excuse me?" On some days, Harry's okay, but then sometimes he just goes in ten different directions like this and it's just…
"He's a Legilimencer, and can read your mind through eye contact. Without his wand."
"Harry–"
"Voldemort fucking knows about the damn duel, Neville. I'm not ruling out Snape as a possibility."
By then they were too near the common room and other people for the conversation to continue.
~~[q]~~
October 31st was a date of much significance to many. For many nonmagicals, and indeed even many modern wizards and witches, it was Halloween, where children went out and about in costumes accumulating candy. For those magicals raised more traditionally, it was All Hallow's Eve, and marked the beginning of the festival of Samhain, a ritual dating back to the Celtic roots of the British Isles.
For Harry Potter, it would forever be the day that the Dark Lord killed his parents.
And for Voldemort, it would forever be the day that he was somehow defeated by a baby.
Needless to say, Harry had not had a good night. He no longer dreamed of Cedric's death so often, of his failure at the graveyard, but arguably worse visions came to him.
The Ministry of Magic, burning. The screams of the incompetent fools and the unworthy, suffering at his, at Voldemort's, hand. His satisfaction at finally seeing Magical Britain, an ungrateful, useless society, brought to heel.
The Dark Lord's dreams became Harry's dreams. Eddies of intention, vortices of malice–Harry could feel them all. Had felt them all.
The pursuit of an unbeatable wand, after his own had failed him. The breaking of Azkaban, where his loyal followers would rejoin him, and where his faithful servant would open the way into the Department of Mysteries. Another scheme at his leisure, perhaps, to strike at that old crone, Dumbledore…
Yes…the boy was indeed growing into a formidable opponent, if what he had heard was true. Unlike his father before him, who had somehow thought to hold him off without a wand…pitiful.
No matter. He would march into the Ministry soon, and the truth shall be known to him. Or would a ploy using the boy suffice? He would have to think–
"POTTER! Daydreaming again, are you? Twenty points from Gryffindor." The acid tone of Severus Snape cut through Harry's reverie, and Harry snapped back to attention. "For one with an utter lack of talent, Potter, you might do well to pay more attention."
If it were any other day, like the many that had passed before, he would have let it go, would have just kept his head down and ignored all of the venom that had been spat his way.
But it wasn't. Harry raised his head in defiance–
–and felt the probe of Legilimency attempt to enter his mind.
Fuck you.
Harry's Occulumantic instincts, now more like a beast at his command, rose to met the mental attack. It caught the probe and fed it with the memory of Voldemort's Cruciatus, and returned it back to its sender.
Unfortunately, instinct was not fully controllable. In concert with his mind, Harry's magic lashed out, attempting to shove away his attacker on a more physical level. However, Summoning or Banishing (or any type of motion magic, in fact), had severely reduced effects on your fellow magical beings, due to them, well, also being magical, and having some volition.
The end effect was that Snape appeared to simply stagger backwards, both from surprise and from the muted effects of Harry's wandless Banisher.
"Lacking self-control as always, Potter? Another twenty points from Gryffindor. And as for you, Longbottom," Snape eyed Neville's cauldron, "unless a miracle occurs, that looks like yet another failing grade." Snape swept away without saying anything further, his composure returned after that momentary lapse.
"K-keep it together, Harry." Neville murmured from beside him, where his head was turned downwards. His voice was soft, which masked a tremor, but his jaw seemed to be set firm with resolve.
Harry recalled his friend's old Boggart of two years prior, and felt a pang of shame. Well, if Neville is able to walk repeatedly to face his worst fear for five years straight, I can damn well control myself for one more lesson. He forced his fatigued mind to focus, willed himself to remember the tranquillity of magic, and continued brewing.
The rest of the lesson passed without incident.
~~[q]~~
So did the rest of the week, for the most part.
Harry had now settled into some manner of new routine. Time that had once been dedicated to training had now been eaten by Umbridge's detentions, and so time that Harry once used to sleep he now used to train.
(Not that Harry missed sleep much. If he slept, he dreamt, and that just meant more visions of Voldemort.)
Currently, he was busy trying to master two new spells. Incendio was in the Standard Book of Spells, and Fulminis was in a book whose title Harry had forgotten the moment he found out that he could shoot lightning out of his wand.
Slash, slash, jab. Two slashes for kenaz, the torch, and a point of intent to light the way. "Incendio."
Even after a half-hour's practice, a underwhelming amount of flame came forth, and the target dummy very much did not catch on fire, to his disappointment.
It's a standard spell after all. At the very least, the heat and light would blind his opponent for a few seconds, but he had Concussus for that.
No, I'm not up against some kids. I'm not even up against Aurors. I'm up against Voldemort, for the gods' sakes. Voldemort, who has more experience than all the years I've lived. Voldemort, who had been charming and gifted and powerful.
Voldemort, who had been so much of a terror that almost all the country refused to speak his name.
And he thought that a spell any NEWT student could do would be enough?
Foolish.
He had nearly forgotten who his true enemy was.
Harry rubbed his eyes, then looked to the other book, which held a more complicated wandmotion. Magic was and always will be about intent, about forcing and cajoling the universe to bend to your will, but some ways were easier than others.
The first problem that Harry had to tackle, as someone trying to learn things by himself, was how to learn well in the first place. Copying the wand motions and visualizing the result worked well enough at first, but he had come to realise that "well enough" simply wasn't, well, enough.
An upwards slash, a twist, then a slash to each side.
"Fulminis!"
Lightning, elemental power in a form close to raw, shot out from his wand, and Harry promptly fell to his knees, and then flat on his face.
Not...this…again…
He grit his teeth, and pulled himself over to a conjured chair.
Power…I think I'm slowly adapting to using large amounts of power at once…
He groped around, before his hand landed on an enchanted hourglass that functioned much like an alarm clock or egg timer, which the Room had also gladly provided.
But it isn't a conjured item. The Room is able to make simple items easily, and even make simple spell effects like how the golems have been working, but I think creating a custom magical item on my needs on the spot is impossible.
Gah, enough about that. I need to make sure I don't collapse completely.
Harry overturned the hourglass and spoke. "Two hours," he said, and he promptly fell asleep.
~~[q]~~
Time. I need more time. I quit Quidditch to get it, but then Umbridge cursed me with these bloody detentions.
"Sorry I'm late–" Harry entered the Divination classroom, then noticed the conspicuous addition of two additional desks which seemed to now serve as a (very messy, from the looks of it) workstation. "–and what is this?"
"Me and Su decided to set up some stuff here," Terry said cheerfully, ignoring the twitch in the Chinese girl's eye. "Much easier to work on projects if you have a dedicated workspace–"
"–your common room, Boot–" Ernie interjected.
"–that isn't filled with many people all the time." Terry finished.
"And if a stray spell hits whatever's on there and causes an explosion?" Susan pointed out.
"We'll throw some cloth over it." The Ravenclaw waved a hand. "In any case, the medallions are ready."
Harry could already sense the beginnings of s storm brewing, but he decided not to say anything yet, as the coins were passed out. Instead, he asked as question. "Why is there a small hole in the centre?"
"To differentiate it from a real Sickle, of course."
"The whole point is that it isn't supposed to be–bah, I guess it's small enough for people not to notice unless they look through everything closely." Harry thought better of arguing.
"Now, the features," Terry said excitedly. "With Transfiguration, change the etchings on either face side, or, if you want to be subtle, change the serial number on the edge. The Protean Charm will make sure everything is reflected. As for how you know there's a change, everyone's coins will vibrate until you touch it with your bare hands, or any skin. Be warned that the vibration makes a soft buzzing noise, so don't make unnecessary changes where someone might notice. Also, I had the idea of personalizing everyone's coins such that you can choose who to send messages to, but that requires a central–"
"Silencio. I think we all get the point, thank you Terry." Su sighed, as she lowered her wand. "Feel free to stop him if he goes off on unnecessary tangents."
The rest of the group gave hesitant signs of acknowledgement, and Su fell silent yet again.
"Right, now on to business." Harry spoke, somewhat wearily. "Divide into pairs as usual. It'll be the Stunning Hex again today. And as for the Umbridge thing, we'll discuss it during break." He grabbed a chair and sat down to oversee, absentmindedly calling out switches and correcting wand form as needed.
When an hour had gone by, he called for a recess, and the group broke, making small talk and grabbing cups of water.
"You didn't participate once." Susan spoke quietly from beside him. Harry was sitting backwards in the chair, his arms resting on top of its back.
"You noticed?"
"I didn't. Too busy steamrolling Neville and the other Sue."
Was that a hint of rivalry? Hmm…
"But Hannah did, and she asked me to check on you." Susan said. "So…"
"Don't worry about it. It's just…Umbridge's detentions, you know?"
Some truth, but not the whole truth.
Susan nodded understandingly. "Good luck with those."
"Thanks. And speaking of…" Harry raised his voice. "Alright, listen up!" Heads turned in his direction. "I know about Umbridge's Decree. This changes nothing. As far as anyone knows, this club doesn't exist. We don't even have a name, and we're not planning to get one, so anyone that refers to us by name is a big fat liar."
There were a few chuckles.
"But some basic stuff: make sure you don't get followed here. Make sure you have some excuse as to why you're disappearing, and cover for each other. And most importantly, act normally." He scratched his head. "Oh, and now that we have the coins, don't suddenly meet up for no reason. Studying together in the library is still fine…I think."
Harry finally got to his feet.
"Right, ready for round two?"
~~[q]~~
"Headmaster, you wanted to see me?"
"Ah, Miss Hearn." Dumbledore nodded. "I did, indeed. And…Miss Usami is here as well, I see." If there was disapproval in his tone, the old headmaster hid it well. "Wouldn't you like a seat?"
"It's fine." Renko waved a hand from where she was leaning on the back of Merry's chair, arms crossed and looking over her head of blonde hair.
"As you wish. Now, the reason I have asked for a meeting is to ask for your discretion on certain matters."
"What matters, Headmaster?"
"Rumour has spread that our Professor Snape has been out and about performing Legilimency on the students, an illegal act."
"And?" Merry asked innocently.
"I understand that you have made mention of the Mind Arts in your lessons, which may have been the fuel for such rumors in the first place. I must kindly request that you cease mentioning it."
Imperceptibly, Renko dropped a hand and placed it on Merry shoulder, where Merry reached up and gave a reassuring squeeze. Locking eyes with the headmaster, Merry spoke. "I'm afraid that is impossible, Headmaster."
"Impossible?"
"Yes. Legilimency and Occlumency are both integral parts of the Divination curriculum, after all."
Dumbledore shook his head. "I think you are mistaken, Miss Hearn. There is no mention of either of the two magics anywhere so."
Merry continued. "Not at the OWLs, no. But an introduction to both is covered at the NEWT level."
"We have not had a student take Divination post-OWLs for fifteen years."
"Nevertheless, it is a part of Divination, and I will continue to answer the questions of the students about a subject I am being paid to teach." Maribel said, tone still pleasant.
Dumbledore sighed. "Surely there is some compromise that can be reached? I cannot afford an inquiry into one of my professors at this critical juncture."
Merry shrugged. "I only mentioned the Mind Arts once during my lessons, at the start of term. If any rumours persist, I suggest looking into the behavior of Mr Snape instead."
"I see." The headmaster was obviously disappointed. "Though that would be quite difficult…"
"If I might add, headmaster, I've talked to quite a few of the students, and many of them have mentioned quite a few disturbing things."
"Really now?"
"Well, Miss Usami also holds office hours for consultations in both Arithmancy and Astronomy. Between her and myself, that is quite the number of students, that pass through our door, and a few patterns have showed up."
Dumbledore motioned for her to continue.
"Many students have complained about casual favouritism by Professors, with Snape being the worst offender, though McGonagall's name was also mentioned a few times. Additionally, it's quite ridiculous how entitled some students could be, demanding meetings based on the fact that they're 'Purebloods' or something. You might want to consider looking into the issue of blood discrimination within your student body." Merry finished. "Though I certainly do not want to overstep my bounds. I'm just a visiting Professor, after all." She added.
"All problems, Miss Hearn, which have plagued me for a long time." Dumbledore sighed. "Discrimination is a problem that has plagued Magical Britain for a long time, now, and my earlier attempts at stopping it were met with stiff resistance from the parents of nobility." He shook his head again, and withdrew a small yellow candy from a small pot on his desk, which he popped into his mouth. "As for Snape, he is a skilled brewer like no other, and is an essential part of my staff. A few behavioral problems is the compromise I need to pay for his services."
Renko's grip tightened on Merry shoulder, and Merry gave yet another squeeze. just evading questions. I would say I'm surprised, but I never keep my expectations high. "Of course, Headmaster. Is that all you wanted to see me for?"
"Not quite, Miss Hearn. There is also a matter regarding a Mr Harry Potter, who I understand attends your classes."
"What about him, Headmaster?"
"I understand that you're teaching him Occlumency. I do not particularly disapprove, but I ask that you report to me periodically about his mental state and abilities."
This old bastard is seriously entitled, isn't he? Renko thought, but remained silent and composed.
Let me deal with it, Renko. Merry had not removed her hand from her own, and as fast as the foreign thought came, it retreated. Renko made an effort to control her surprise. Telepathy? Manipulating the border between my mind and hers…she must be seriously upset if she's using it for just something like this.
"Are you accusing me of showing favouritism to a student, Headmaster?" Merry's tone remained light, but the tension in the air seemed to increase. Now, just to check if he's just fishing or not…
For once, Dumbledore seemed taken aback. "No, I am not. Then, am I to understand that you are not tutoring him in Occlumency?"
"How did you come by this information, Headmaster?" Merry answered the question with her own. "To know that one practices Occlumency, you would need to attempt intrusion in their mind."
"In the case of Harry Potter, and only in his case, I have specially instructed Professor Snape to examine his mind periodically, if he is able to do so."
"I see that Mr Potter's mental privacy, and indeed, the mental privacies of all your students, is not being respected, Headmaster." If Merry had a cup of tea in front of her at this moment, she would have taken a sip. "Also, it is you who seem to be playing favourites."
Dumbledore sighed. "Please understand that there are extenuating circumstances, Miss Hearn. If you did not already know, the Dark Lord Voldemort has recently resurfaced, and Harry has a special link to him."
Merry shook her head, while making sure to not cross her arms. "And that gives you the right to disrespect Harry as an individual? What games are you playing, Headmaster?"
"Games? On the contrary, Miss Hearn, this is a matter of utmost severity."
"You're supposed to be the Headmaster of the best school in Magical Britain, Dumbledore." By all respects, it should have been a rant by now, but Merry still maintained her calm and soft mien. "Why, then, are bureaucrats running roughshod over your curriculum? Why are students being mistreated and discriminated against? Why does it seem that a Professor who's been around for barely a few months is able to gain the trust of the students more easily than those that have been around for years?"
I think some of that might just be you, Merry. Renko thought to herself, but refrained from speaking. But now's not the time to point that out.
"Samuel Harris, Third Year Gryffindor. Not keeping up with Divination, and is constantly worried about his ailing father. Gemma Farley, Seventh Year Slytherin, one of the top scorers in Arithmancy. Blood is pure as they come, or so she says, but all she really wants is to become an artist and not have to deal with high society. James Cadwallader, Fourth Year Hufflepuff. Wants to be a professional Quidditch player, but also has anxiety when he gets on a broom." Merry ticked off her fingers. "I can list plenty more, Headmaster."
"I suspect, Miss Hearn, that your pleasant personality and appearance might have endeared you to the students more quickly than say, Professor McGonagall's image as a stern disciplinarian, or Professor Snape's dour personality." Dumbledore echoed Renko's thoughts, and Renko herself flinched. "Nevertheless, I do not currently have the time to check up on every single one of my students, however much that I want to." Dumbledore said the last few words with the force of someone indenting a wax seal on parchment, or biting down on a particularly hard piece of candy. "Please do believe me, Miss Hearn. Preparations for the upcoming war, and believe me when I say it will be war, must take precedence at this moment. Which brings me back to the issue of Harry Potter."
"Why are you so fixated on him, Dumbledore?" Merry countered. "Why is he so special to you?"
"Of that, I cannot say." The old wizard's face was grim. "It is a matter of utmost secrecy. Seeing as you are not even a citizen of Magical Britain, all the more I cannot agree."
"Harry Potter has been plagued by nightmares and anxiety since the end of his last school year." Merry unknowingly began to raise her voice as she changed her approach. "He has much determination, yet he feels little happiness or pride in his achievements. He has a terrible home life, and recently he cut off some of his oldest friendships, which has caused him yet more strain. And through all this, he is obsessed with the idea of defeating this Lord Voldemort, and almost appears to think that he is destined to fight him–"
Dumbledore flinched backwards in a highly visible manner, and in Merry's mind, some pieces connected–
"–which he is, isn't he?" Merry ended off with a shout, and Renko put both hands on her shoulders and almost pushed her back down into her seat. "A prophecy, right under everyone's noses?"
Dumbledore instinctively reached for his wand–
–but Merry was faster. Right behind her, all around them, gaps had opened in reality, exposing a violet backdrop spotted with innumerable eyes, all which hurt to even look at.
Dumbledore very carefully withdrew his arm, and placed both palms down onto the table slowly. "Like I said, a matter of utmost secrecy, Professor Hearn."
"Try modifying my mind in any way, Headmaster Dumbledore, and you will regret it." Merry did not move an inch. "It was my own mind I mastered out of all other fantasies first, after all."
"I swear that I will not attempt to attack you in any manner," Dumbledore said placatingly. "And with Miss Usami as well," he added, after the scenery stubbornly remained unchanged.
Merry closed her eyes, and took a deep exhale. All around them, the dreadful purple gaps began to gradually close, and it was only after they had all vanished completely did Merry begin to speak again. "So you haven't told him?"
"I have not. I deemed it a hefty burden to place on his shoulders, especially at such a young age," Dumbledore's voice held a weary note to it. "Yet, as much as I wanted to give him a peaceful childhood, I fear I must tell him soon."
"I can nearly respect that," Merry said, almost grudgingly. "However…" she paused, "some events are simply inevitable. Dread them or run from them, they will happen all the same. Isn't it better, then, to be prepared, to be able to face the future head-on?" She stood from her chair. "I do not know your plans for your Chosen One, Dumbledore, but I will continue to teach him the Mind Arts."
"Will you tell him, then, Professor Hearn?" Dumbledore had also stood to show them out.
"I will do as I see fit, just as you will do as you see fit." The familiar words sent a chill down the Headmaster's spine. "If it is any reassurance, I only have his best interests at heart, and will not carelessly divulge the existence of any sort of prophecy."
Merry reached the door, Renko firmly grasping her hand, and Dumbledore made one final remark. "I see that you seem to care a great deal, not only for the students, but for young Harry in particular. May I ask why?"
"Perhaps I feel a great deal of empathy for him."
The door swung shut, and Albus Dumbledore was left alone to ponder his actions.
~~[q]~~
With the gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office behind them, Merry collapsed into Renko's arms.
"Merry! You idiot!"
"No choice." Merry weakly shook her head in Renko's chest. "Do you know that I hate dealing with people?"
Renko sighed, and began to slowly help Merry back to their office. "Yes, Merry, you've said it before."
"I know what to say, and how to say it, but it just makes me feel dirty sometimes." Merry said. "And those powers…I don't like them, not like this."
Merry must be in quite the state for her to say this much. Renko mused. She reached a hand to adjust Merry's position–
–and felt an unpleasant warmth. "Merry, you're running a fever!"
"Am I? I guess I am." Merry reached up to pat her own forehead.
"This is no joke," Renko swore under her breath and switched course for the Hospital Wing instead. "You know, Dumbledore had kind of a point." She ignored Merry's weak cry of protest. "Not directly, but you're definitely overworking yourself, making yourself so available."
"But the students–"
"Look, I know you want to help everyone, but you can't." Renko said bluntly. "You're only surviving this long because I've been helping you with the lesson plans."
There were more moans of protest.
"Look, it's not your job to help with everyone's pet projects or to answer everyone's questions." Renko said. Believe me, I know how you feel, after all this time at your side. But your own health needs to come first. "Do any more, and you'll end up destroying yourself."
More mumbles, softer this time–
"Yeah, we'll have to deal with Harry's case too. But you're not going to be of any help if you collapse."
~~[q]~~
"Luna."
"Harry Potter–"
"What is the Elder Wand, Luna?"
"You're being unusually forceful today, Harry," Luna said. As was her usual self, she maintained a casual atmosphere, and an even tone.
The morning sun shone down through the foliage of the Forbidden Forest, as the both of them stood in the shade, feeding Thestrals by hand.
A quiet place, where people most likely won't follow…
"Voldemort's after it. Neville told me that it's a children's fairy tale, but you seem to think otherwise. Tell me everything."
"Everything…" Luna echoed. With her gloved hands, she tore off another strip of meat and guided it into the nearest Thestral's mouth. "There once were three brothers, who were on a journey by twilight. Soon enough, they came upon a broken bridge by a raging river…"
Harry listened, enthralled, by Luna's recounting of the tale. When she had finished, he spoke instantly. "So, that's the Tale of the Three Brothers?"
"Yes. Daddy used to read it to me all the time as a bedtime story," Luna said. "Can you see it?"
"The three artifacts? Yeah." The wand, the stone, and Death's own cloak, huh?
"That's what Daddy and the other people who believe call the 'Deathly Hallows'." She picked up a fallen branch, and traced a symbol on the ground. "The Elder Wand, said to be unbeatable." A straight line. "The Resurrection Stone, said to bring back the dead." A circle at the base of the line.
That is nearly a perfect circle, Harry noted.
"And the Cloak of Invisibility, said to conceal one from Death itself." A triangle enclosed the line and circle.
"Yeah, death itself, my arse." Harry interrupted. "Imposter Moody could see through it with his damn eye last year."
"Imposter Moody?"
"Didn't Dumbledore say…well, I guess he didn't say anything." Harry outlined the events of the end of last year to Luna.
"I don't know about any mystic eyes like that," Luna shook her head. "But that eyeball isn't death itself, so it might not count?"
Despite himself, Harry let out a small laugh. "Your lines of thought never fail to surprise me, Luna."
Luna smiled at him and went on. "Together, they are known as the Deathly Hallows, and it is said that whoever unites all of them will be the Master of Death."
"Like, they couldn't die?"
"Nobody knows. I like to think that the person just becomes Death itself."
Become Death itself…yeah, who am I kidding? It's not as if I could find these artefacts here, anyway. If Voldemort is busy chasing fairy tales, it just means he's wasting time. And even if he does get the wand…wait.
"Voldemort doesn't know about the Hallows." Harry said, half to himself. "He only thought about getting the wand."
"Well, the wand is the most famous," Luna said. "I don't remember much about it, but Daddy knows about the history about it. I could write a letter to him, if you want."
"No." Harry said immediately. "It's too dangerous."
"So you believe it's real? Then you'll just have to come over for Christmas so you can talk to him in person." Luna smiled. "Now that I think about it, that'll be nice."
Christmas seems so far away, though. Though if Dumbledore forces me to stay with the Weasleys again…no, I'll have to persuade Sirius. "I'll try my best. But for now, don't say anything. And remember, don't look Snape or Dumbledore in the eyes."
"Don't worry, Harry. My mind's impenetrable." Luna said cheerfully.
"Sure it is." Harry deadpanned back. "Come, let's head back."
~~[q]~~
And after the day's session of torture at the hands of Umbridge, Harry walked into the Room of Requirement, a dreadful resolution in his mind, a plan fully formed after an hour of nothing but being forced to cut open his own hand with an enchanted quill.
Show me the room where everything is hidden.
"Accio Time-Turner."
I think that Merry's becoming a bit of a Mary Sue. I can't help it, since she's supposed to be the force that shakes up the pre-established canon events, but it still makes me feel dirty.
Before I knew it, I was quoting Thanos. That was also a kind of inevitability.
Review please!