Disclaimer: I own a lot of shoes, a few pairs of high-end jeans, and more hair products than one person needs, but I do not own Harry Potter.

Ring the Bell Twice

Draco and Hermione were sitting in the common room one dreary April morning when Harry burst in, tripped over his shoelaces, and landed face first on the carpet.

"You lack a certain grace, Potter," McLaggen sneered.

"I don't need grace," Harry proclaimed, getting up and dusting himself off. "I've got personality. I'm also a superhero!"

He cheekily grinned like a mad man at the elder boy, stuck up his left arm in front of him and hot footed over to Draco and Hermione with the arm still raised in the air.

"Where's Tom?" Harry asked, lowering his arm while Draco stared at him like he was mental. "What? Did you forget I'm a superhero?"

Draco blankly stared at his best friend.

"I believe Tom's trying to hunt down Professor Snape," Hermione said, having missed Harry's antics due to having her nose in a book. "What happened?"

"I ran into Tonks," Harry said, looking weirded out. "She was looking for Dumbledore. Not sure what she was doing on the seventh floor by the Room of Requirement."

"Isn't Nott in there?"

"Yeah, but she doesn't know that."

"Why were you there?"

"To see if I could catch him coming out," Harry admitted, rubbing his hair and making it look crazier than usual. "I just wanted to talk to him. Give him some vague something or other about how there's a way out, a light at the end of the tunnel, that someone cares."

"You care?" Draco inquired, sitting back in his seat. "He's never been nice to you."

"Yeah, but I understand why he's mean to me, why he picks on you worse than me. He's trying to be who his father wants him to be, who he was raised to be."

"I'm not sure he was raised to be a bully," Hermione commented. "Draco noted that in the previous timeline, Nott wasn't anything like this. He, in fact, didn't even know he existed until after Voldemort returned."

"He is controlled by Time," Draco muttered. "Anyway, I take it your mission failed?"

"Yeah, I ran into Tonks. Dumbledore's gone away again and she was aimlessly wandering around the castle evidently, looking for anyone who knew about the rumors. She wasn't too clear on what those rumors were, but—"

"The werewolves," Hermione said. "In the previous timeline, Tonk married Remus."

Harry made a face.

"She's hopelessly in love with him," Draco intoned. "Not sure how he feels about her, though."

"Sirius is also hopelessly in love with him," Harry grumbled. "I mean, Remus isn't exactly ugly, but…"

"But what?" Hermione asked sharply.

"But he's just a guy! A kind of antisocial guy, too. I mean, he's nice and all, but why does everyone love him?"

"Only two people love him," Hermione pointed out.

"But still! Tonks is…rather good looking. So is Sirius. I mean, they're both Blacks," Harry said, a strange look appearing on his face. "Atlanta's mother was also a Black."

"And looked alarmingly like Sirius," Hermione remarked.

"What?" Draco and Harry both exclaimed.

"How do you know?" Draco asked.

"Atlanta had a photo of her birth mother that Remus had given to her after Circe Hilderbatch died. I'm not sure where he'd gotten it, but I saw it next to her bed when I was in the dormitory to give something to Ginny. I asked her who that was, as it looked like a female version of Sirius. It was rather disturbing."

Draco and Harry both stared at Hermione.

"Poor Tonks," Draco muttered.

"Exactly," Hermione agreed darkly.

"He won't like her because she doesn't look exactly like Sirius?" Harry asked, his voice going a little high.

"It means that Remus is likely so in love with Sirius, he's ruined for life," Hermione replied.

Harry did not appear to know how to handle this information, so he got up and left again by raising a fisted hand in the air and shouting, "Up, up, up and away!"

"At least he didn't trip over his shoelaces. Why doesn't he tie his shoes properly?" Hermione muttered, going back to putting her nose in the book.

"What is the deal with the fist in the air?"

"It's a superhero pose," Hermione said, writing a few more sentences down before inquiring, "Next weekend, there's that extra practice for those who can take the test this spring. Are we going?"

"Yes. Wait, I mean no. I can't go. I'm not turning seventeen till June. Nor will Harry be going."

"But, I will."

Draco started to find Tom Riddle standing over him, creepy grin on his face.

"I'm already seventeen."

He looked extremely giddy about this factoid.

"You are?" Hermione inquired. "But you're…"

"My age is technically indeterminable."

"You're fifteen," Draco pointed out. "You didn't study for your OWLS, so you were a fourth year. Why is it so hard—"

"OWLs weren't that big of a deal in my day. They weren't even mandatory until the sixties."

"WHAT?" Hermione shrieked, making several people stare at her.

"So, I might never have taken them, being a lowly Muggle-raised half-blood."

"You would have taken any test to prove your worth," Draco drawled, narrowing his eyes. "Fine. You're seventeen. Why didn't you tell anyone when your birthday is?"

"It's New Year's Eve."

"Are you serious?"

"No. I'm Tom."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose while Hermione chuckled.

"Tom, you should have let us know it was your birthday, though."

"But was it really my birthday?"

"On paper it must be if you're seventeen."

Tom shrugged.

"Why were you trying to find Snape?" Draco asked.

"The mock trials are going well and I want this over as quickly as possible. I wanted to let Snape know we're ready, but I was unable to find him. He's so hard to find lately. It's like he's leaving the school."

"Will Moldy will bring the snake?" Hermione asked. "If he comes here for whatever reason Professor Snape can think to get him here?"

"Snape believes the snake is just a snake."

"Really?" Draco drawled. "Why would you believe him?"

"I've analyzed what he said and with what I know of Snake Face. I believe Snape is right. The Dark Idiot wouldn't make the snake one if he had a better option."

"Which would be?"

"He was able to get his hands on whatever he was going to use when he went after Harry. He planned to make Harry's death his last Horcrux."

Hermione gasped. "He went back to get it?"

Tom shrugged. "Snape claimed the ruins of the cottage remain as they were, a memorial to the Potters and what occurred that night. I have been unable to go myself, but I did inquire if Regulus had been to the village. He said the wand and the object were missing. Voldemort's cloak and robe were still there, but the wand and anything else he brought with him were gone."

"Wand?" Draco asked. "They just left the wand sitting there for thirteen years?"

"Yes. Voldemort had it the night he dueled Harry in the graveyard. Didn't Harry ever tell you that?"

"Oh," Draco breathed, his eye going wide and an unbidden memory re-entering his head. "Oh."

"What?" Tom demanded while Hermione reached out and squeezed his hand.

"His wand didn't work right when he'd turn it on Potter. He took Father's wand when they went after Potter when they were moving him from the Muggle's house and into hiding. But, Father's wand didn't work right when Snake Face tried to use it on Potter. He was…furious."

Draco glanced up and saw Hermione looking at him with sympathy while Tom looked calculating.

"Moldy Trousers was gone often throughout your seventh year, correct?"

"Yes. He was gone often. None of us knew what he was looking for, though. Or what he was doing. When he was summoned when we'd captured the Golden Trio during Easter…I'm not sure where he was, but he was…apoplectic when he discovered we'd lost Potter and Friends. He'd been close to finding whatever the hell he was looking for and, well, we ruined it."

Draco shuddered.

"Do you know where he'd been?"

Draco shook his head. "Far enough he was unable to Apparate straight to the Manor. That's the only reason they were able to escape. If he'd been close enough to Apparate, they'd never escaped, but he was somewhere in Europe."

Tom looked thoughtful. "Anything else you remember?"

"I saw Snake Face at Hogwarts. Hours before the battle began, he showed up out of the blue and headed for Dumbledore's tomb."

"Dumbledore was buried here?" Tom queried.

Draco nodded. "A lot of the Slytherins wanted to deface the tomb, but it was charmed so we couldn't do anything to it. Not that I tried."

Hermione shook her head.

"What would Voldemort want with a rotting body? He hates dead bodies. Death is a weakness," Tom hissed out, sounding alarming like the Dark Lord.

"Don't do that," Hermione gently said.

Tom looked confused.

"You hissed," Hermione clarified. "Don't hiss like that. You sound like him."

Tom looked befuddled but looked at Draco and his eyes went wide. Then, he appeared furious.

"You can't help it," Draco assured. "You do share DNA."

"Never mind," Tom said. "Clearly Dumbledore was buried with something Voldemort wanted. Something powerful."

Tom put his hand in the pocket of his trousers and looked thoughtful for a second before his eyes went huge and he tore out of the Common Room.

"Where is he going?" someone asked.

"Likely to find Harry and snog him to death," replied someone else.

Draco would have laughed at that if he wasn't worried and scared. He looked at his girlfriend to find her wearing a contemplative expression till she gasped.

"What?"

"Voldemort was after a wand," she whispered, clutching his hand so hard it hurt. "I read a history last summer on the last Dark Lord. Dumbledore defeated him. The dark wizard was obsessed with something called the Deathly Hallows."

"What? That's a children's story, nothing more."

"Yes, I know. I read it after I'd read the history as it's not a common tale in the Muggle world. The story featured a wand, a stone, and a cloak."

"I know the story. Mother told it to me when I was a child."

Hermione stared at him, her eyes a little unfocused. He knew she was sorting through the host of information stored within the confines of her mind. Draco, while feeling impatient, waited for Hermione to uncover whatever she was searching for. It took about ten minutes before she gasped, her brown eyes huge as they refocused on Draco. She looked as if she were sea sick as she swayed back and forth.

"What if they are real? What if the Deathly Hallows are real like Grindelwald believed?"

"Hermione, they're just tales. They can't be real," Draco insisted.

"No. Wait. Listen," Hermione said, flapping her free hand at him and leaning closer to him. "A powerful wand, more powerful than any other wand ever made. An unbeatable wand. A cloak that hides the wearer completely and will never. Ever. Fray."

She stared at him hard.

"Harry's cloak?"

"Yes," she hissed, leaning even closer. "It's old. That much is clear, but it shows no signs of wear, the charm on it shows no sign of dying. Harry treats it kindly, but he does shove it into his pocket, into his trunk, and tends to wad it up, yet it always unfolds easily, shows no signs of wear or tears. Yet, it is old. Very old."

Draco stared at her, not wanting to believe.

"And that ugly ring Tom's been wearing," Hermione went on. "He said it was a family heirloom returned to him. It is also really old, yet looks new. While I am sure Tom polished it, it did suffer something, as the stone is cracked down the center, but it did have something on it. This."

Hermione dropped Draco's hand, pulled a pen and paper from somewhere, and drew the symbol she'd seen on the ring Tom wore (not that Draco had noticed Tom wearing a ring).

"Grindelwald used it as his symbol, he carved it into everything during the war," Hermione explained. "Today, people who believe in the Hallows still use it to let others know they believe, but in countries Grindlewald took over during World War II it is still seen as unfavorable due to his use. It's been redesigned by those who still believe into this in those countries to reclaim the Deathly Hallows from Grindelwald."

She drew something else, which looked more complicated and didn't have the simple symbolism the other symbol had.

"But, Tom's ring has this symbol on it. What if it's the stone, the one who brings back your dead loved ones."

"Only they aren't happy so you die too," Draco reminded her. "The dead are dead and do not—"

"He brought her back for selfish reasons. He wanted her to stay," Hermione reminded him. "Also, I doubt Tom wishes to bring back anyone who is dead."

"Atlanta?"

"No, he's at peace with her death. He regrets it, yes, he mourns her, yes, but unlike many of us, he understands death and accepts it."

Draco looked at her doubtfully.

"I'm serious," Hermione insisted. "And I am sure he and Harry have put that together: they possess two Deathly Hallows between them."

"You're thinking Dumbledore had the wand?"

"The Elder Wand, yes. It was rumored Grindlewald had found one of the Hallows. It was never expressly said which one, but he told his follows it brought him great power and he'd find the other two. He'd never get the Cloak, as it's been in the Potter family for generations. And Voldemort had the ring."

"Really? At that time he did?"

"Well, no. Whoever his wizarding relations were had the ring, which Voldemort clearly stole and turned into a Horcrux."

"What? How did you come to that conclusion?"

"Oh, sorry. Didn't I tell you? That's why I figured it was split down the middle. While I doubt Voldemort knew of the Deathly Hallows, it was a family heirloom of an important, or formerly important, wizarding family."

"Which he'd make into a Horcrux. It fits with his M.O."

"Exactly," Hermione said. "Dumbledore did have, what, two Horcruxes?"

"Yes, I believe so. But they were the locket Regulus retrieved and the crown from the Room of Requirement."

Hermione nodded eagerly. "That's what Regulus and Dumbledore are doing. They're looking for the remaining Horcruxes. They must have found the ring."

Draco sat back. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"It's not important at the moment. Do you now what is?"

Draco gave her an impatient look.

"Dumbledore is in possession of the Elder Wand. Tom's realized this so he's gone off to tell Snape. You said Voldemort kidnapped Ollivander, right?"

"Correct."

"And he's done so again. Why would he kidnap a wand maker unless he wanted a wand?"

"He never had him make him a wand," Draco realized. "I mean, I wasn't there when he was questioning Ollivander, but he only used his own wand except when he went after Potter. He took Father's wand, which he broke."

"So, he had Ollivander for what? Decorations? No. I think he was questioning him on why he and Harry's wand reacted the way they do and maybe, just maybe on wand lore itself and the Elder Wand. Ollivander would know of the tales of a Death Stick. I bet all wand makers do."

"But would he know where it was?"

"Clearly not if Voldemort didn't show up at Hogwarts till the spring."

"True. But why would he be in—"

"The wand was last seen in Europe. The history of the Elder Wand is easier to trace than the other two objects. Just look for the bloodiest duels and you'll likely find it. The last person to publicly claim they had it was a wand maker in Germany. He said a blond imp stole it from him in the dead of the night."

"It wasn't me," Draco deadpanned.

"Grindelwald was blond. And rather impish," Hermione stated. "You've seen photos of him, haven't you?"

"Not really. We never cover modern history in the History of Magic," Draco pointed out. "And I wasn't very…motivated to read on my own about wizarding history."

"Fine. Take my word that Grindelwald was a blond imp. And claimed to have a Hallow but never said which one he had. Who dueled Grindelwald and defeated him?"

"Dumbledore."

"Exactly."

"So, Dumbledore has the Elder Wand? And never told anyone?"

"Would you tell people you had it? It's got a history steeped in blood. In the tale it was lost because the owner was bragging and someone wanted it."

"True."

"It makes sense. And, it'd bring Voldemort here for sure."

Draco shuddered.

"Wouldn't it be nice to have our final year without the dark cloud of Snake Face looming over us?" Hermione inquired.

Draco nodded. "Yes. That'd be a novelty, as I've not had a Snake Face free year in almost thirteen years."

Hermione gave him a sad look and squeezed his hand once more before letting go to return to her homework. Draco returned to his own and quietly plowed through his Potions essay till Harry and Tom fell into the Common Room, Harry landing on top of Tom. A few people snickered as Harry scrambled off Tom and vanished up the stairs with a tomato red face. Tom stood, brushed himself off, and headed for the table where Hermione and Draco sat. He glanced between them, smirked, and took a seat.

"I knew you'd get there," he remarked.

"And you're sure he'll come for it?" Hermione asked.

"Yes. Snape agreed," Tom said, evidently finally locating the man. "All we must do is make sure everyone is in the right locations on the correct night."

Severus was brooding.

Riddle was too clever for his own good.

It was odd having someone who could think on his level. Especially when that person was technically a fifteen-year-old. (He did not believe for a moment the child was seventeen like he was claiming. Fifteen made more sense with what Adelaide Black had told him when he'd questioned her on the origins of the boy.)

The fire suddenly burst to life with green flames and spit out Sirius Black. He landed in an ungraceful heap on the hearth and remained there until the fire was long dead and only the smell of singed hair and ash remained.

"You don't keep a fire going in this thing all the time?" Black asked, pushing himself up and resting on his elbows. "It's freezing in here."

"Wear more clothes," Severus drawled, leaning back and relishing in his layers of clothing.

Black snorted, sitting up and brushing the ash off his shoulders. He ran a hand through his hair a few times before getting out his wand and rapping himself on the head. He was clean and his usual form within a second. He hauled himself to his feet and shivered, glancing at the floating candles lighting the dungeon room.

"Maybe you ought to transfigure yourself a jumper," Severus offered.

Black gave him a mulish look.

"Why are you here?"

Severus had not seen Black since the disastrous evening when he'd shown up with a bottle of cheap whiskey. He'd woken in a bedroom within Grimmauld Place and was able to escape through a fireplace connected the to Floo network without alerting anyone in the house he was leaving with a headache and mouth full of wool. He'd suffered his hangover like a Muggle due to the fact he never got drunk so he didn't have any hangover potion.

"How do you live here? It's dank and freezing. You don't honestly—"

"Black," Severus leveled.

"I'm an alcoholic."

Severus blinked.

"My mind healer told me I needed to tell you, you know if I counted you as my friend. I've been working, on the whole…addiction?" Black asked like he wasn't sure. "She's a Muggleborn, my mind healer. She is a little strange because I guess Muggles have a whole branch of study for the head and mental things."

"Yes," Severus said slowly. "You're an alcoholic?"

"I used the word correct, right?"

"Yes. If you are saying you're addicted to alcohol and drink too much too often and suffer symptoms of withdrawal when you go without for extended periods."

"Yeah. That happened when I was in Azkaban. Didn't understand what was happening. Also happened after Narcissa got rid of all the booze."

Severus shifted.

Black ran a hand through his hair and moved his weight back and forth from one foot the other.

"So, erm, that's what I wanted to tell you. I mean, I liked drinking with you, but it's not good…for me?"

"Why do you keep asking questions when they ought to be statements?" Severus demanded, standing up.

"You're…a half-blood," Black said slowly looking as if he was afraid Severus might attack at any moment. "You should know…something?"

"I know quite a bit," Severus snapped. "What would you like to know about growing up around an abusive, alcoholic?"

Black shook his head dumbly, rubbing his hands together before he hugged himself. "Narcissa said…I just…I don't need to know, but I do need you to know I'm an…alcoholic. I don't want to be, though. I use it to help me sleep and numb my emotions, as I'm stunted. And I'm scared of going insane."

The last sentence was whispered. If Severus didn't have super hearing from years of teaching idiots, he would have missed it. He loosened his body posture and really looked at Black. While his hair was still amazing (stop thinking that), he looked like he'd gone ten rounds with a Dementor. Severus lifted his chin and pressed his lips together.

This man was not his father, not even close. Severus took a deep breath and asked, "Would you like to take a seat?"

"Don't take pity—"

"Take a seat, Black," Severus snapped. "I dislike alcohol, so we shall now drink tea."

Black blinked owlishly before taking a seat in the other armchair next to the empty fireplace. Severus swept into the small kitchenette in his rooms. He set the kettle to boil and waited.

"You have a Muggle kettle? How does it work?"

"Adelaide gave it to me."

"Ah."

Severus busied himself by mixing tea leaves from his vast selection. When the kettle was done, he'd gotten a mixture he thought might aid Black and help him sleep.

"You should have spoken to me if you were having issues sleeping," Severus said, thrusting the mug at Black.

Black took it, sniffing it before looking at the mug as if it were a pot of gold. "When was I to do that? You didn't even look at me till you showed up to talk about Tom."

Severus made a noise through his nose and sat down opposite Black.

"Drink."

Black sniffed the mug again before taking a sip.

He downed the whole thing.

"My god, where has this been my whole life?"

"Here."

Black made a few other appreciated noises and flopped in the armchair. With Severus' luck, he was going to fall asleep in the chair rather than his own home.

"Remus moved on," Black proclaimed. "Finally noticed Tonks was madly in love with him and took her up on her offer for…whatever adults do. What do adults do?"

"Have relationships?"

"Yeah. Those things. He and Tonks are trying that," Sirius said, flapping his hand. "Urgh. That was the most painful conversation I've ever had. No, I take it back. The most painful one that started all this crap and…well, stupid Time."

"Time?"

"Yeah. I am sure Time is the reason for all that…stuff I said to Remus to get him to leave."

"Didn't you leave?"

"Well, yeah, I left. Only, I don't remember. Any of it. I was drunk. For like two weeks," Sirius grunted out, slouching in the chair further. He stared into the empty mug. "When I got sober enough, I didn't want to go back to my apartment, so I went to Lanta's and we had a row and I never left."

"You left daily to go to work, visit the Potters, and finally go exact your revenge against Pettigrew," Severus reminded Black.

"Eh. Details," Black muttered. "God. I was twenty-one. Twenty-one. I'd hardly lived."

"Have you lived now?"

"Not really. I'll live after Moldy Trousers is gone for good. You?"

"Moldy Trousers?"

"Yeah, erm, that's what Addy tends to call him."

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "She knows his trousers are moldy?"

"No. First time she said it she said pants, but that make James snicker and she realized what pants meant here."

Severus nodded. The two lapsed into silence. Severus was about to break the silence by telling Black he ought to go home only to find the other man fast asleep in the chair. Severus pressed his lips together, but retrieved a blanket from his chambers and tossed it at Black. It landed on the man's chest, not even waking him. Shaking his head, Severus retreated into the bed chamber.