Chapter 33:
Harry waited until they could hear Xenophilius moving about in the kitchen downstairs before speaking.
"What do you think?" he asked Hermione.
"Oh, Harry," she said wearily, "it's a pile of utter rubbish. This can't be what the sign really means. This must just be his weird take on it. What a waste of time."
Alicia however disagreed. That stone, years and years ago, put into a ring with the scratchings on it, she had to dive into the memory and have a better look, but she was sure of it. It was from the Peverells. It didn't say the stone was real, but it proved that something had been passed down. Another thing, Ignotus Pevrell had been in Godric's Hollow were the Potter twins had been, with a cloak that had been passed down from Ignotus from his son, was it not likely to be continued to be passed onwards? Until it reached Harry that Christmas of their first year of Hogwarts?
"I s'pose this is the man who brought us Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," said Ron.
"You don't believe it either?" Harry asked him.
"Nah, that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? 'Don't go looking for trouble, don't pick fights, don't go messing around with stuff that's best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, and you'll be okay' Come to think of it," Ron added, "maybe that story's why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky."
"What are you talking about?"
"One of those superstitions, isn't it? 'May-born witches will marry Muggles.' 'Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.' 'Wand of elder, never prosper.' You must've heard them. My mum's full of them."
"Harry and I were raised by Muggles," Hermione reminded him. "We were taught different superstitions." She sighed deeply as a rather pungent smell drifted up from the kitchen. The one good thing about her exasperation with Xenophilius was that it seemed to have made her forget that she was annoyed at Ron. "Well I think you're right," she told him.
"Alicia?" Harry asked. The three turned to her and she pursed her lips.
"Well, the cloak we know is real. And legends are lessons that stem from truths. I mean how does a person just make something like that up?"
"Oh Alicia, don't tell me you believe this rubbish?" Hermione snapped
"How can you not when we know of one already? If there's one, why not another, and you heard him about the wand. I don't know about you but those are real stories with real names, I've definitely read of a few of them." She said.
"There's no proof!" Hermione said
"There was no proof beside mine and Harry's word You-Know-Who was back." Hermione snapped her mouth shut.
"That's different."
"Not really." Alicia disagreed.
"It's just a morality tale, it's obvious which gift is best, which one you'd choose —"
The three of them spoke at the same time and Alicia looked surprised; Hermione said, "the Cloak," Ron said, "the wand," and Harry said, "the stone."
They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused and Alicia chuckled.
"You're supposed to say the Cloak," Ron told Hermione, "but you wouldn't need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!"
"We've already got an Invisibility Cloak," said Harry.
"And it's helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn't noticed!" said Hermione. "Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble —"
"Only if you shouted about it," argued Ron. "Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, 'I've got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you're hard enough.' As long as you kept your trap shut —"
"Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?" said Hermione, looking skeptical. "You know, the only true thing he said to us was that there have been stories about extra-powerful wands for hundreds of years."
"There have?" asked Harry.
Hermione looked exasperated: The expression was so endearingly familiar that Harry and Ron grinned at each other. Alicia rolled her eyes and hit her forehead.
"Seriously you two."
"The Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, they crop up under different names through the centuries, usually in the possession of some Dark wizard who's boasting about them. Professor Binns mentioned some of them, but — oh, it's all nonsense. Wands are only as powerful as the wizards who use them. Some wizards just like to boast that theirs are bigger and better than other people's."
"But how do you know," said Harry, "that those wands — the Deathstick and the Wand of Destiny — aren't the same wand, surfacing over the centuries under different names?"
"What, and they're all really the Elder Wand, made by Death?" said Ron.
Harry laughed randomly.
"So why would you take the stone?" Ron asked him.
"Well, if you could bring people back, we could have Sirius… Mad-Eye… Dumbledore… my parents…"
Neither Ron nor Hermione smiled.
"Harry," Alicia whispered "They wouldn't really be here." she reminded him "The story said their was a veil in the way." Harry looked at her "Honestly that one reminds me of the Mirror of Erised, Dumbledore said men waisted away in front of it, wishing for what was beyond. The stone doesn't sound much different." Harry pursed his lips as he thought about it.
"I don't suppose there have been loads of other stories about a stone that can raise the dead, have there?" he asked Hermione.
"No," she replied sadly. "I don't think anyone except Mr. Lovegood could kid themselves that's possible. Beedle probably took the idea from the Philosopher's Stone; you know, instead of a stone to make you immortal, a stone to reverse death."
The smell from the kitchen was getting stronger: It was something like burning underpants.
"What about the Cloak, though?" said Ron slowly. "Don't you realise, he's right? I've got so used to Harry's Cloak and how good it is, I never stopped to think. I've never heard of one like Harry's. It's infallible. We've never been spotted under it —"
"Of course not — we're invisible when we're under it, Ron!"
"But all the stuff he said about other cloaks, and they're not exactly ten a Knut, you know, is true! It's never occurred to me before, but I've heard stuff about charms wearing off cloaks when they get old, or them being ripped apart by spells so they've got holes in. Harry's was owned by his dad, so it's not exactly new, is it, but it's just… perfect!"
"Yes, all right, but Ron, the stone…"
Harry got up as they argued in whispers while Alicia sat herself back in her seat.
A wand that was unbeatable. A stone to revive the dead. A cloak to hide oneself. The Cloak passed down through the inhabitants of Godric's Hollow. A stone passed down as a ring through the Gaunts…
Alicia's eyebrows furrowed. Dumbledore had had that ring. What's more, he'd put it on and cursed his hand…
And he knew of the hallows, possibly, he sighed a letter with the symbol… Had Dumbledore believed? Had he believed the stone so real that he'd put it on, forgetting about the fact it was no longer just a ring?
And Alicia could guess why, his mother, his sister…
This dreadful coffin-side brawl, known only to those few who attended Ariana Dumbledore's funeral, raises several questions. Why exactly did Aberforth Dumbledore blame Albus for his sister's death? Was it, as "Batty" pretends, a mere effusion of grief? Or could there have been some more concrete reason for his fury? Grindelwald, expelled from Durmstrang for near-fatal attacks upon fellow students, fled the country hours after the girl's death, and Albus (out of shame or fear?) never saw him again, not until forced to do so by the pleas of the Wizarding world.
She remembered the words from Rita Skeeters book. And then she remembered Dumbledore, when he'd been drinking the potion in the cave to collect the locket horcrux.
"It's all my fault, all my fault," he sobbed. "Please make it stop, I know I did wrong, oh please make it stop and I'll never, never again…"
It all seems like he blamed himself for something. Had he wanted to bring them back to quell some last quarrel? It seemed strange that someone like Dumbledore would believe something so primitive, but perhaps, it wasn't actually.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Hermione.
"Harry, what are you doing? I don't think you should look around when he's not here!"
Alicia turned to see Harry climbing the stairs. It wasn't a few minutes later that he came right back down again, his posture was completely different now though.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked but before he could respond, Xenophilius reached the top of the stairs from the kitchen, now holding a tray laden with bowls.
"Mr. Lovegood," said Harry. "Where's Luna?"
"Excuse me?"
"Where's Luna?"
Xenophilius halted on the top step.
"I — I've already told you. She is down at Bottom Bridge, fishing for Plimpies."
"So why have you only laid that tray for five?"
Xenophilius tried to speak, but no sound came out. The only noise was the continued chugging of the printing press, and a slight rattle from the tray as Xenophilius's hands shook.
"I don't think Luna's been here for weeks," said Harry. "Her clothes are gone, her bed hasn't been slept in. Where is she? And why do you keep looking out of the window?"
Xenophilius dropped the tray: The bowls bounced and smashed. Alicia, Harry, Ron, and Hermione drew their wands: Xenophilius froze, his hand about to enter his pocket. At that moment the printing press gave a huge bang and numerous Quibblers came streaming across the floor from underneath the tablecloth; the press fell silent at last.
Hermione stooped down and picked up one of the magazines, her wand still pointing at Mr. Lovegood.
"Harry, look at this."
He strode over to her as quickly as he could through all the clutter. The front of The Quibbler carried his own picture, emblazoned with the words Undesirable Number One and captioned with the reward money.
"The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then?" Harry asked coldly, his mind working very fast. "Is that what you were doing when you went into the garden, Mr. Lovegood? Sending an owl to the Ministry?"
Xenophilius licked his lips.
"They took my Luna," he whispered. "Because of what I've been writing. They took my Luna and I don't know where she is, what they've done to her. But they might give her back to me if I — if I —"
"Hand over Harry?" Hermione finished for him.
"No deal," said Ron flatly. "Get out of the way, we're leaving." Xenophilius looked ghastly, a century old, his lips drawn back into a dreadful leer.
"They will be here at any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave."
He spread his arms in front of the staircase, and Alicia frowned. Had her and Harry's mother not done the same thing? Here was Xeneophillius risking himself in order to just have his only daughter and family member.
"Don't make us hurt you," Harry said. "Get out of the way, Mr. Lovegood."
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed.
Figures on broomsticks were flying past the windows. As Hermione, Ron and Harry looked away from him, Xenophilius drew his wand. Alicia's went up and the shield charm caused the stunning spell to deflect as Harry had launched himself sideways, shoving Ron and Hermione out of harm's way. Xenophilius's Stunning Spell soared across the room and hit the Erumpent horn.
There was a colossal explosion. The sound of it seemed to blow the room apart: Fragments of wood and paper and rubble flew in all directions, along with an impenetrable cloud of thick white dust. Harry flew through the air, then crashed to the floor, Alicia hit the wall and gasped as the air was knocked out while Hermione screamed, Ron yelled, and a series of sickening metallic thuds began. Xenophilius had been blasted off his feet and fallen backward down the spiral stairs.
Alicia coughed and opened her eyes as she began to slide down the wall and regained her feet. Dust was everywhere and Alicia breathed it in and coughed some more. Half of the ceiling had fallen in, and the end of Luna's bed was hanging through the hole. The bust of Rowena Ravenclaw lay beside Harry who was covered in white fluff, parchment and dust. Fragments of torn parchment were floating through the air, and most of the printing press lay on its side, blocking the top of the staircase to the kitchen. Then another white shape moved close by, and Hermione, coated in dust like a second statue, pressed her finger to her lips.
The door downstairs crashed open.
"Didn't I tell you there was no need to hurry, Travers?" said a rough voice. "Didn't I tell you this nutter was just raving as usual?" There was a bang and a scream of pain from Xenophilius.
"No… no… upstairs… Potter!"
"I told you last week, Lovegood, we weren't coming back for anything less than some solid information! Remember last week? When you wanted to swap your daughter for that stupid bleeding headdress? And the week before" — another bang, another squeal — "when you thought we'd give her back if you offered us proof there are Crumple" — bang — "Headed" — bang — "Snorkacks?"
"No — no — I beg you!" sobbed Xenophilius. "It really is Potter! Really!"
"And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!" roared the Death Eater, and there was a volley of bangs interspersed with squeals of agony from Xenophilius.
"The place looks like it's about to fall in, Selwyn," said a cool second voice, echoing up the mangled staircase. "The stairs are completely blocked. Could try clearing it? Might bring the place down."
"You lying piece of filth," shouted the wizard named Selwyn. "You've never seen Potter in your life, have you? Thought you'd lure us here to kill us, did you? And you think you'll get your girl back like this?"
"I swear… I swear… Potter's upstairs!"
"Homenum revelio," said the voice at the foot of the stairs.
Hermione gasped and Alicia grit her teeth as she had the odd sensation that something was swooping low over her, immersing his body in its shadow.
"There's someone up there all right, Selwyn," said the second man sharply.
"It's Potter, I tell you, it's Potter!" sobbed Xenophilius. "Please… please… give me Luna, just let me have Luna…"
"You can have your little girl, Lovegood," said Selwyn, "if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter. But if this is a plot, if it's a trick, if you've got an accomplice waiting up there to ambush us, we'll see if we can spare a bit of your daughter for you to bury."
Xenophilius gave a wail of fear and despair. There were scurryings and scrapings: Xenophilius was trying to get through the debris on the stairs.
"Come on," Harry whispered, "we've got to get out of here."
"Hermione," Alicia said turning to her and she girl nodded, thinking hard.
Harry started to dig himself out under cover of all the noise Xenophilius was making on the staircase. Ron was buried deepest: Alicia, Harry and Hermione climbed, as quietly as they could, over all the wreckage to where he lay, trying to prise a heavy chest of drawers off his legs. While Xenophilius's banging and scraping drew nearer and nearer, Hermione managed to free Ron with the use of a Hover Charm.
"All right," breathed Hermione, as the broken printing press blocking the top of the stairs began to tremble; Xenophilius was feet away from them. She was still white with dust. "Do you trust me, Harry?"
Harry nodded.
"Okay then," Hermione whispered, "give me the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, you're going to put it on."
"Me? But Harry —"
"Don't argue." Alicia said quietly.
"Please, Ron! Harry, hold on tight to my hand, Ron, grab my shoulder. Alicia," Hermione held her hand to the girl who took it.
Harry held out his left hand. Ron vanished beneath the Cloak. The printing press blocking the stairs was vibrating: Xenophilius was trying to shift it using a Hover Charm. They stayed, and they waited.
"Hold tight," she whispered. "Hold tight… any second…"
Xenophilius's paper-white face appeared over the top of the sideboard.
"Obliviate!" cried Hermione, pointing her wand first into his face, while Alicia had her's at the floor.
"Deprimo!" She had blasted a hole in the sitting room floor. They fell like boulders, Harry still holding onto Hermione's hand for dear life; there was a scream from below, and they glimpsed two men trying to get out of the way as vast quantities of rubble and broken furniture rained all around them from the shattered ceiling. Hermione twisted in midair and the thundering of the collapsing house rang as she dragged them once more into darkness.