Chapter 18: Little and Too Much
"How have things been with Kreature?" Dumbledore asks as Harry and Hermione sit before him once more. Harry smiles.
"Surprisingly well," he chuckles. "I guess he's glad not to be alone anymore and actually have something to do. I mean, how terrible it must have been to take care of a house with no occupants and only a painting to speak with." Hermione's lips lift into a smirk.
"Told you so," she murmurs. Harry rolls his eyes.
"Kreature is almost happy for once."
"He'll be truly happy once you get that locket away from him. Having it with him constantly is the reason he's so bitter and mean. It takes its toll," her voice fades away with sadness coloring the tone. Harry reaches out and grabs her hand. He squeezes gently, before turning back to Dumbledore.
"I think he's ready," Harry says. Dumbledore nods his consent. "Kreature." A pop announces his arrival.
"Master," the elf says, bending low. "What can Kreature do to helps?" Harry rises from his seat and walks to the elf before bending down. Even on his knees, Harry is still taller than Kreature.
"I understand that Regulus Black was a good man," Harry says softly. "That he wanted to make the world a better place, for the killing to stop. It was because of this that the Dark Lord Voldemort killed him."
"Master Regulus was good. He was nice master. And that bad wizard took him away and he hurt him," Kreature says solemnly.
"I know," Harry pats his shoulder sympathetically. "Regulus asked something of you before he left, did he not?" Kreature's eyes grew bigger.
"Master?" the elf asks, fear seeping in.
"I want to destroy the locket," Harry says firmly, not looking away from the elf. "I'm going to destroy it like Regulus wanted." Kreature threw himself at Harry and wrapped him in a tight embrace.
"Master, Kreature thanks yous," he squeaks. A lump forms in Hermione's throat and she looks away.
Kreature had become a good friend during the war. He had taken care of the three of them during their stay at Grimmauld Place, completely changing once the locket was out of his sight. They had returned once it was destroyed. He had been so happy, but then...they were forced to abandon it when a group followed them back. They'd escaped, barely. Kreature defended them and that was another life lost, another friend lost.
Pop. Kreature is back and shivering while holding out the locket. Dumbledore levitates it from the elf into a box. Once the box closes with a snap, the air in the room feels lighter, the darkness receding. Kreature sighs and Hermione knows this is the first time he is free of its curse.
"Thank you," Harry tells him sincerely. Kreature smiles and pops away.
"Professor Flitwick says your training has been going well," Dumbledore redirects the students from the recents acquisition of the locket.
"I'd hope so," Harry says under his breath. Dumbledore laughs. It's been ten grueling weeks of training. Four night a week with Flitwick, the extra assignments he's giving out to move them along, as well as classes and homework is taking every bit of energy they have.
"Hermione. Hermione, come on," Draco says gently, shaking her awake. Hermione slowly open her eyes and look around the Room of Requirement. The parchment before her has a large black blotch of ink still spreading. She closes her eyes and sighs. They've been training with Flitwick for three weeks.
"I fell asleep," she mutters.
"That you did," Draco drawls. "What has you so tired?"
"Flitwick. Harry and Ron have magical power to spare, not to mention the quidditch keeping them in shape enough that the dodging and running isn't too bad for them. But they are worn as well. Me, keeping up, it's been rough," she says.
"You are smarter that those two," Draco placates.
"That's why I can keep up. I'm smart enough to know when to cast and when to find cover. Still…" He smiles at her.
"That's got to be intense. I mean, you know he's a master dueler, right? He is the acknowledged best dueler alive. He stopped doing competitions about ten years back, but rumor has it his skill has never dulled." She sighs again.
"I guess I know why Dumbledore picked him to tutor us then." Draco smiles.
"Get some sleep, Granger," he says.
"Granger?"
"Hermione," he corrects with an eye roll.
"I can't. I've got to get this essay done. It's due tomorrow." Draco sighs.
"I'll do it. You rest."
"I can't let you do that," she tells him.
"Why? You already got top grades in these classes once. Are you really so stubborn that you would work yourself into the ground to do so again? It's not like you haven't already learned all this. You just keep doing it so not raise suspicion," he replies.
"Draco…"
"Rest," he commands, pushing her back towards the couch. Hermione obliges and it became a routine. On evenings when she wasn't training with Flitwick and seems especially worn, he would write her essays and she would sleep. He would charm it to change to her writing. It's at least once a week, but Hermione couldn't be more grateful for the help.
"We are reaching the end of the year," Dumbledore says, his eyes flitting over to the witch. Hermione tilts her head minimally to show her understanding. "After this term, I believe the war will become a much more pronounced part of our existence. That is why all the training. Mr. Potter, what do you know of the tale of the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione shivers at the mention. Dumbledore notices the reaction over his steepled fingers, but doesn't comment.
"The death what?" Harry replies intelligently. Dumbledore almost smiles, but the blue eyes sparkle only with sadness.
"The tale goes that there was once three brothers. As they journeyed, they came across a river that would surely be their demise. However, with their magic, they conquered the obstacle and thus cheated death.
"Death appeared before them and congratulated them. He offered them each a gift in return. The youngest of the three told them that they could not trust him and should leave. But his older brothers were enticed.
"The oldest of the three asked for a wand, more powerful than any other. Death smiled and plucked a stick off of a nearby tree. With a wave, the wand was formed and handed over.
"The second brother had recently lost his wife. He loved her greatly, so he asked that he may be able to speak with her from the great divide. Death smiled and picked up a stone. It glowed red and then he handed it to him.
"The youngest brother looked at Death, the wide smile and eyes gleaming. The revenge for cheating their own demise swirled just beneath the surface. He asked for cloak that would hide him from Death. Death scowled and took off his own cloak, and then was gone.
"The eldest brother may have not seen death in the shadows, but it followed him has he flaunted his new power. It was only a week's time before Death came for him in the form of a knife to the neck as another took the wand.
"The middle brother called forth his wife. She was not quite solid, but to see her face again was enough. It took a week for him to notice how empty she felt, how out of place, out of time. By two weeks she became angry and blaming him. He tried to let her go, to send her back, but her soul was tied to his. In the end, he killed himself to set her free.
"The last of the brothers used the cloak all his life. And when he was ready, he passed it on to his son and met Death on his own terms," Dumbledore finishes.
"Wow," Harry says. He cocks his head to the side, pausing before saying, "What does that have to do with our training?"
"Little and too much," Dumbledore answers with a sigh. The edges of Harry's lips slant down and his brow rides low. He turns to Hermione, who looks away. His hand touches hers and a strangled sob slips through her lips.
"The elder wand?" she asks, looking to Dumbledore. He nods. She swallows hard and looks at the ceiling, willing the pain away. She's watched that wand kill Harry.
"The elder wand," Dumbledore turns to Harry, "is the wand spoken of in the tale. It is the strongest wand of all." Dumbledore places the piece of white wood on the desk. "When the time is right, I will give you this wand. The master of the wand is the only one who can use it to the fully capacity. The master is either the one who overtook the last master or who was given it by the last master willingly." He sighs. "It is much more a burden than a gift. What the elder wand looks like is not fully known. It is best if none know you have it."
The Headmaster looks older, tireder than before. His movements show the weakness aching in his bones, killing him slowly.
"Well there is still five more weeks in the term," the Headmaster says. "And curfew is approaching. Good evening." Harry and Hermione leave the office, seeing Snape on the way out.
"Severus, my good friend," Dumbledore greets.
"Albus…" Snape replies, the sneer missing from his voice. It almost sounds like a...plea? The gargoyle clothes behind them and they hear no more.
Hermione wonders if it is her fault that Snape has to kill him. If it weren't for her stupid deal, Dumbledore could have lived out the rest of his illness and Snape would not have to...let go of his mentor. She swallows hard and follow Harry back to the common room, neither of them speaking.