One reader made a comment about how unlikely it'd be that Harry would be the subject of more than one Prophecy. This Prophecy in this story is over 1000 years old, so I do believe it is highly plausible that it could happen. The rationale for said Prophecy will be delved into soon, and ties into another genre of books that I adore. With my penchant for crossovers, the title gives a clue—but this won't be a true crossover in the traditional sense.

Back at Ville Fleur Étoile, Hermione was now pacing in front of her Father, while Harry was watching her with a concerned look on his face.

"So you're telling me that our situation is unprecedented?" She bit out, and Pierre sighed, then nodded.

"Angel, as much as I adored your Mother, the sharing of wands is not a common occurrence. The fact that you and Mr. Potter were forced to do so whilst on the run, might've been the catalyst for such a feat, but it hardly explains it in its entirety."

"And the issue of the Elder Wand?" Harry inquired lowly, and Pierre turned his attention to the young wizard, his own expression clearly pondering.

"What I know of the Elder Wand is limited, Harry. Perhaps there is something else I'm missing?"

Harry gazed briefly to Hermione, who sighed and then plopped down gracefully next to her best friend before she inquired, "Papa, when I shared with you about our time on the run, I didn't share all of it."

"Oh?"

"No. You know about the horcruxes..."

"Nasty pieces of magic."

"Yes." She shivered involuntarily at the memory of wearing that infernal thing around her neck. Based on Harry's taking of her hand in solidarity, she'd suspected that he too, was reliving how horrific that had been. "Papa, you know of the Tales of Beedle the Bard, and the Tale of the Three Brother's?"

"I do. Your mother never read those to you growing up, as she'd preferred Muggle Fairytales—but I do know of the story."

"Do you know what the objects in the story represent?"

Pierre sat back and steepled his fingers together, his gaze narrowing in contemplation. "I'm familiar with the legend of the Deathstick. Most wizard's grow up learning about the fable of the all powerful wand."

"And the other two items?"

"The stone and the cloak?"

"Yes."

"I'm aware of story, Angel. Why? Is there some significance to these items?"

Harry cleared his throat and nodded. "The wand in the story is the Elder Wand. The most powerful wand in the world. Dumbledore won it from Grindelwald in 1945 and at the end of our sixth year, Draco disarmed Dumbledore and the Elder wand gave him its allegiance. No one knew this though, as the Elder Wand was buried with Dumbledore. Voldemort broke into Albus Dumbledore's grave, when he found out from Grindelwald that our former Headmaster had won the wand in their duel back in 1945. He killed Grindelwald, then took the wand for his own—but it never worked properly for him. When we were taken to Malfoy Manor, I disarmed Draco, and his wand changed its allegiance to me."

"Thereby making you the Master of the Elder Wand?"

"Yes, Sir. But there's more. The Invisibility Cloak in the story, also belonged to me. It was passed down throughout the generations from my ancestors. The Peverell Family, specifically—Ignotus Peverell. The stone in the story, is called the Resurrection Stone and it was passed down through the Gaunt Family, until Riddle made it into a Horcrux. Dumbledore destroyed the horcrux prior to our sixth year, however the Hallow remained, but he was mortally cursed because of it. He was dying throughout our sixth year, and he also knew about Malfoy's mission."

"From whom?"

"Severus Snape. Our former Potion's Professor took an unbreakable vow to protect Draco, and Snape was the one who killed Dumbledore that fateful night on the Astronomy Tower, at the Headmaster's own request."

"How do you know all this, Harry?"

"Before Snape died, he gave me his memories. I was able to watch them in the Headmaster's pensieve, before I went out to the Forbidden Forest to face Riddle. Snape was always Dumbledore's man."

Pierre nodded in understanding.

He'd met the surly Potions Master once, many years ago. The wizard was formidable, dour and an enigma. It made perfect sense, in a fucked up way, that he would've spied for the light.

"So these three items: the Wand, Stone, Cloak? I'm assuming they hold some significance?"

"Yes. They're called the Deathly Hallows."

Pierre paled and breathed out... "The Master of Death."

"Yes."

Hermione considered her Father curiously, before asking, "You know of it?"

"Only in passing, Angel, and only by the name. There was a classmate of mine, who wore a symbol around his neck..."

"Xenophilius Lovegood has one as well." Harry offered, and Pierre nodded.

"To control all three, makes one Master of Death, in theory."

"It's true," Harry whispered haltingly, "I am the Master of Death."

Pierre's eyes widened in disbelief. "You?"

"Yes. I still have the cloak. The wand is back where it belongs, and the stone..."

"Hidden away?"

"Sort of."

Pierre cleared his throat and then queried lowly, "If I might make a suggestion?"

"Yes?"

"If you know where these items are, Harry—I would highly suggest you find them, take possession of them and then put them somewhere safe."

"Where would you suggest?"

"Maybe not Gringotts." Hermione deadpanned, and Pierre smirked.

"Not all of them together, that would probably be unwise. However, you wouldn't even need to hide all of them, as long as the ones you do, were each placed in a secure location that only you would know of, and have access to."

"That might work." Harry hummed thoughtfully, side-eyeing Hermione, who nodded in agreement.

"Would it be alright if I went with him, Papa?"

"Where would you be going?"

"Hogwarts, Sir."

Pierre's mouth tightened but he bowed his head in acquiescence. "You both can floo to Hogsmeade from here. It's only one way however, for security reasons, so you'll not be able to floo back."

"That's impressive."

"It was set up in case of an emergency," Pierre admitted with a sigh, "and due to the War, the permissions were never rescinded."

"And if someone were to try and floo back?"

"It would lock them out, and the wards here would lock down. Dumbledore had the permissions installed prior to Hermione's first year."

"And where does the floo come out?"

"The Hogs Head. Aberforth Dumbledore was kind enough to allow it."

"Did he know about Hermione?"

"He only knew that my child would be attending Hogwarts, but not whom that child was. If he suspected, he'd never mentioned it."

Hermione sighed. "He knew."

"How?" Pierre asked, intrigued.

"During the war. We apparated into Hogsmeade, looking for a way into Hogwarts. We set off the cauterwauling charm. Aberforth saved us, let us inside the Hogs Head and gave us access to Hogwarts through a secret passage into the Room of Requirement. Explains too, some of his comments that night."

Harry nodded, as he'd always been somewhat confused about why Aberforth had been so abrupt. The issue with Ariana aside, Harry had to wonder if Aberforth was more privy to just how his own brother had a penchant for manipulating situations and people, to his liking.

"Well, let's get you both through."

Pierre opened the floo, and kissed his daughter's forehead softly, whispering, "Be careful."

"I will, Papa."

He nodded and watched as both Hermione and Harry, swirled away in a torrent of green flames. Once they were gone, he sat down and placed his head into his hands.

Master of Death!

To discover such a truth, rocked him to his very foundation but to find out that somehow, his only child shared some kind of affinity for a wizard who was the Master of Death...

...who had killed the darkest, most evil wizard to ever walk the earth?

It made Pierre question just how powerful Harry Potter truly was.

At that moment, both Harry and Hermione came through the floo into the back room of the Hogs Head, and once they were clear of the hearth, they both heard footsteps heading in their direction.

When Aberforth walked in, his eyes widened briefly before he bowed his head in greeting.

"Mr. Potter and Miss Granger—or would you prefer being called Miss Alphonse?"

"Miss Alphonse is fine, Mr. Dumbledore. Or Hermione, if you'd prefer?"

The older wizard nodded his head sharply in reply, before his blue eyes, so like his brother's, settled on the Boy Who Lived.

"Mr. Potter?"

"Hello, Sir."

"I take it you both floo'd in directly from France?"

"Yes, Sir."

Aberforth sighed, and then gestured for them to follow him out of his back room, and into the main part of his Inn. Thankfully, there weren't too many witches or wizard's patronizing the establishment. With the war ending not too long ago, and Hogwarts in the process of being rebuilt, Hogsmeade was still a veritable ghost town.

"Did you two need anything?"

"No, Sir." Hermione offered politely, "We're heading up to Hogwarts. Is Professor McGonagall there?"

"She is, along with most of the Professors, as they're working on fixing the castle."

"That's good," she smiled, "thank you for allowing the use of your floo."

"Of course."

Harry took Hermione's hand within his, and they walked out of the Hog's Head together. Luckily, High Street was rather empty still, and they were fortunate not to run into anyone they knew personally. Eventually, once they got up the path towards Hogwarts, Harry took a detour south into the Forbidden Forest, just past Hagrid's Hut, which had been recently rebuilt.

Their walk into the Forest was quiet for the most part, and eventually, they reached the spot where Harry had dropped the Resurrection Stone.

It took him less than twenty minutes to locate it.

When he picked it up, he sighed sadly and then felt Hermione's hand on his arm, offering him comfort like she always did.

"You know?" She whispered with concern, "You never told me what happened that night?"

"I know."

"I didn't want to push, but if you ever wanted to discuss it?"

Harry squeezed her hand within his, and handed her the stone, which she placed in her warded beaded bag, before he led her back the way they'd come. Once they'd reached the border of the Forest, they both walked down towards the Black Lake.

"Would you have really gone with me?"

He felt Hermione sigh, but she replied unequivocally, "Of course, I would've gone with you. It was never a question for me, Harry. Part of me was so angry that you'd left me behind. We've faced everything together, and then I saw Hagrid carrying you into the courtyard, and I think that was the first time I acknowledged to myself, the feelings I'd held closely for so long. For those few moments, all I could process was I'd never gotten the chance to tell you how I felt. Then you were alive, and the relief I'd felt in that moment was utterly overwhelming."

"I didn't want to leave you." He admitted softly, as the Black Lake finally came into view. "When Voldemort hit me with the killing curse, I ended up in an in between place of sorts. It looked a lot like Kings Cross. Dumbledore was there, and he told me the choice was mine to make. I could board a train and it would take me on towards the next life, or I could choose to stay and fight."

"Were you tempted?"

"No. I saw Riddle there, or what was left of him, and I knew I had to go back. I had to defeat him. There wasn't a choice for me, not then. I couldn't leave you and Ron. As angry as I get with his selfish tendencies, he's still my best mate. But you, Hermione? You're everything to me."

"Oh, Harry! I feel exactly the same way."

He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her temple sweetly. "I spoke with my Mum and Dad. Sirius and Remus were there too. They told me how proud they were of me, and how brave I'd been. I'd asked Sirius if it hurt..."

"What?"

"Dying?" He shook his head, turning them to face the Lake. "He told me it was as easy as falling asleep. It comforted me to know, that if the worst happened, I'd have my parents and Sirius there."

"I know losing Padfoot was hard for you, Harry."

"It really was. He was the only parental figure I've ever really known."

"He loved you just as much."

"I know. For as much as he liked to pretend he wasn't responsible nor capable enough to be a Father-figure, he always came through when it mattered most. I just wish he'd had a better life. It seems so unfair that he'd had his freedom wrongly taken from him, only to die without us ever being a proper family."

"At least you have those memories, Harry. I think about my Mother quite a bit. I remember the good times when I was a young girl and feel grateful that I had her for the years I did. I wish she was still here, but I think it's harder seeing my Father, who loved her so much, try and move on without her."

"Has he?"

She shook her head in the negative. "No. If there has been anyone, he's never mentioned it to me. He's always been so singularly focused on his duties, I think it's been hard for him to find someone he can trust."

She opened her beaded bag, and reached inside, until she found what she was looking for. When she pulled it out, she handed it over to Harry, who enlarged it.

It was a broom, and the only way they were able to access the area where Dumbledore was buried.

Harry straddled the broom, and grinned when Hermione gazed down at it in disgust.

"Aren't you sure you just can't go over there, and get it yourself?"

"Come on, love? I promise I won't let you fall. You've ridden a dragon, so this is nothing."

"Prat."

"Of course."

She reluctantly straddled the broom, sitting behind Harry and wrapping her arms around his waist. She could also feeling his chest rumbling, as it was clear he was being cheeky at her discomfort.

When he took off across the water, she yelped a squeak of shock and gripped onto Harry tighter, but he didn't seem to mind and thankfully, the ride was rather short. Once they'd landed, she was quick to dismount and Harry followed, a shite-eating grin plastered on his face.

The walk to Dumbledore's gravesite was also a short one. The white stone edifices were large and rather imposing. Harry sighed as they approached, and once they were within arms reach, he placed a hand on the largest of the stone markers and shook his head ruefully.

"There was a time, I venerated Dumbledore. I believed in his goodness, and saw him as a beacon of light and truth."

"Oh?"

"Yes. But this past year, it forced me to stop looking at him through rose colored glasses. He was terribly flawed, and far too used to manipulating situations and people to his advantage." Emerald green eyes that were filled with raw emotion, gazed over her way, and she had to admit, that she'd often thought the same, about their former Headmaster.

"I'd often wondered," she began, "why I was sorted into Gryffindor. I was convinced Ravenclaw was a better choice, and the sorting hat even briefly considered Slytherin."

"Really?" Harry grinned and she nodded. "It did for me as well."

Amber eyes widened comically, and they both laughed at that. "Merlin, can you just imagine how that would've gone over?"

Both shivered at the unwelcome thought.

"A right nightmare, that would've been." He agreed readily.

"Speaking of nightmares, have you spoken to Ron?" She asked lowly and Harry shook his head.

"He's not speaking to anyone right now, but me especially. You know how he gets? Either he'll get his head out of his arse or he won't."

"I know." She sighed sadly. "I keep hoping that somehow, Ron will one day be capable of engaging his logical brain before he goes off half-cocked with his temper."

"Probably not anytime soon." Harry shrugged, before waving his wand and they both watched the stone markers elevate aside, and Dumbledore's crypt opened to reveal their former Headmaster, still lying inside a stasis spell.

Harry reached down for the Elder Wand, and as soon as his hand gripped around the base, he felt the power of the wand accept him. Waving it, he closed up the grave back to its original state, before handing the Elder Wand to Hermione to put inside her beaded bag for safe keeping.

"Do you think we should test out our theory about the wand with Malfoy?" She asked reluctantly, and Harry rolled his eyes at her.

"Do you?"

"It might be a good idea. We could first hide the stone at Grimmauld, place it in a warded area?"

"Maybe. I'd have to change the wards, so no one but us can access it."

"And Kreacher?"

"He's at Hogwarts now, and there he'll stay. I don't know if it's possible to ban him from Grimmauld, but I'd just as soon he stay at the school. I'd rather not have a House Elf."

"I'm sure we can find a suitable hiding place there."

"And the wand?" He queried as they'd reached the place where he'd left their broom, and he straddled it, helping Hermione get herself situated too.

"We could place it in Gringotts, in France."

"And the Goblins?"

"Father spoke with the head of the Goblin Horde in Paris, and was able to negotiate some kind of understanding. My family has several vaults, but I was thinking of my Mother's vault. I'm the only one with access to it."

"That might work."

The flight back across the lake was a bit easier than before, and once they were back on terra firma, Hermione shrunk down the broom and placed it back inside her beaded bag. Heading back up the path towards Hogsmeade, they were caught unawares when they heard someone calling out their names.

Turning around, Harry grinned when he noticed Neville and Luna walking towards them.

"Harry!"

"Hey, Nev!"

The two clapped each other on the back, before the other wizard smiled widely at Hermione.

"Hey, Hermione."

"Hello, Neville." She hugged him briefly, before turning her gaze to the willowy blonde next to him. "Hey, Luna."

"Hello, Hermione," Luna offered, in her whimsical voice, "it's good to see that your infestation of Nargles are completely gone."

"Oh?"

"Mmhmm," she smiled brightly, "I'm just surprised no one noticed the resemblance before now."

Hermione side-eyed Harry, who was considering Luna's words carefully. "Luna? Did you know who Hermione really was this whole time?"

"Not exactly. Her aura seemed off, so I knew something wasn't right but it wasn't until I'd read the Prophet that I put the pieces together."

"Ah." Harry nodded, gesturing for them all to head towards the Three Broomsticks.

"So, you're really betrothed to Malfoy?" Neville grimaced sadly, and Hermione huffed but nodded.

"Looks that way."

"Bad luck, eh?"

"Not my first choice, Neville." She admitted, as they walked through the door to the pub.

"No, I don't suppose it would've been. How did he take it?"

"About how I'd thought he would."

"How's Ron taking it all?"

"About how I'd thought he would." She rolled her eyes for effect, which caused them all to have a laugh at how spot on that comment was.

"My dears!" Rosmerta came over and fussed a bit, "Welcome! What can I get for you folks?"

Harry glanced to Neville and he nodded. "How about four butterbeers and some crisps?"

"Coming right up!"

The small group found a empty private table towards the back, and ignored all the interested stares coming from the other patrons.

Once settled, conversation resumed...

"What have you both been up to?" Harry inquired of his friends, nodding at Rosmerta, who'd brought their drinks over.

"Just helping with the rebuilding efforts at Hogwarts. I've been working with Professor Sprout, getting the greenhouses back into shape."

"That's awfully nice of you, mate."

"I'm happy to do it, Harry. I'm going to head back in September, restoration efforts willing, and once I'm done with my NEWTS, Professor Sprout is going to take me on for a Herbology Mastery."

"That's brilliant!" Hermione piped in, "and sounds perfect for you. You know, my family estate has the last living specimens of silver cedar and silver lime trees."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm, so if you'd like, you can come take a look? My Father is quite an Herbology buff himself, so I'm sure he'd love to share his knowledge with you?"

"That'd be amazing, Hermione!"

Their conversation flowed for about fifteen minutes more, and once food was brought over, as well as another round of drinks, the foursome were thoroughly enjoying themselves, until a caustic voice interrupted their revelry.

"Well, don't we all look cosy?"

Glancing up, Hermione noticed Harry stiffen against her side, as her eyes locked onto the stormy blue of her other best friend...

Who looked completely hacked off...

Just lovely!