It was a few days later on an early Friday afternoon and once their classes were done for the day, that Hermione, Theo, Harry and Draco ended up meeting up in the Astronomy Tower for their excursion to McKinnon Manor.
"Are you sure about this, Sister mine?"
"It'll be fine, Harry."
Her brother nodded reluctantly, before allowing Hermione to apparate him through the wards of Hogwarts and back to McKinnon Manor.
Harry had insisted to be the first to arrive, and when Hermione and he appeared—Harry took out his wand and scanned their immediate area with a barrage of different spells. Satisfied, Hermione called for Bunny, who was ecstatic at seeing her 'mistress' and asking if she would be needing any snacks for the afternoon.
"That will be fine, Bunny. Has everything here been quiet?"
"Yes, Mistress. No ones evers comes through the wards."
Eyeing Harry with a smirk, Hermione disapparated and came back with Theo, and then Draco.
When Draco arrived, his eyes widened at his first view of the elusive McKinnon Manor.
As far as he knew, no one he knew had ever been invited within the walls of this home. His Mother had mentioned it briefly after Sirius' will reading that as far as she knew, not even her parents nor grandparents had ever set foot within the grounds of this ancestral estate.
Hermione watched Draco closely, as he took in the expanse of the foyer that she'd apparated them into. The large columns surrounding the room as well as they skylight above were at least 30 metres high. The circular stairs to the left, went up to the second and third levels and the staircase to the right—went down towards the basement and the potions laboratory.
"It's impressive." Draco murmured and Hermione nodded, taking his hand and leading him outside towards the path to the smaller cottages on the outskirts of the property. When they got to the ancient forested area, Draco's breath caught in his throat at the sight of the large yew trees.
"Merlin!" He whispered in awe, "They're huge!"
Hermione walked to the largest of the yew trees, nestled in the middle of the sacred stones and placed her hands gently on its trunk. The tree moved its large branches towards the sky and shivered, almost as if it was sighing in pleasure.
Then the branches groaned when they moved back down, and all three wizard's stood there staring in wonder.
"What was that?" Draco asked his friend, and Theo shrugged.
"Dunno, but last time we were here, Hermione did the same thing and the tree seemed to respond accordingly."
Draco nodded, his stormy eyes continuously gazing around the property—taking in the expanse of the gardens, as well as the forested area—as their quartet walked down the path towards the edge of the grounds.
When they got to a smallish cottage house, Draco paused, sensing that they were being watched.
"Do you feel that?"
Hermione glanced up at her intended's worried expression, and tilted her head questioningly.
"What is it?"
"I don't know exactly, but I feel like someone is watching us."
Hermione, Harry and Theo glanced around nervously, but no one could see anything. Harry sent out several revealing spells but there was nothing.
"What is it you're sensing?" Theo inquired curiously, but Draco just shook his head.
"I don't know how to explain it, but it feels like someone is observing us."
"Are you sure you're not being paranoid, Malfoy?"
"No, Potter, I'm not." Draco was quick to reply.
"Let's just get what we came for." Theo offered, and they all nodded their heads in agreement as they walked into the cottage and Hermione found the books that had been left in the room from before. Reaching for them, she put them into a small satchel, when the hairs on the back of her head stood to attention.
"Draco's right." She murmured.
"You feel it too?" He came over quickly, pulling her into his embrace, and she nodded.
"It's strange," she replied uneasily, "I didn't feel it before when I was here."
Harry and Theo shared a wary look.
Theo said urgently, "Let's go."
As they moved out of the small house, Hermione stopped suddenly—her magic reaching as she felt a power she didn't recognize.
"Something's coming."
The boys drew their wands out, and it wasn't even a moment later a green light fell over the pathway, moving in their direction until it settled in the clearing right before them.
"What is that?" Harry bit out, his wand held aloft within his hand while Draco and Theo mimicked his offensive posture.
"I don't know." Hermione gazed at the light and even though it was odd, she didn't feel threatened by it. She glanced up at Draco and he too, was watching it with a curious expression on his face.
It was several moments later, that the light seemed to move and change shape, and then a singular form emerged.
They all gasped in shock as a woman stood before them, her green eyes piercing and her long black hair flowing down to her waist. Her dress was from a time period long since passed, but her expression was open and friendly.
"Ah, I bid you welcome."
Hermione blanched. "I'm sorry?" Her voice unsteady, "But this is my home and who are you? How did you get through the wards?"
The woman's smile was bright and her eyes glistened like emeralds in the light as she took in each one of them, before her knowing gaze landed back on Hermione.
"It has been far too long since one of my kin has had sufficient power to call me here. Praytell, might you be Hermione? Daughter of Marlene?"
Hermione's eyes widened like saucers and she nodded dumbly. The woman then turned her gaze towards Draco with another meaningful look. "And this is your mate."
Draco swallowed, but he bowed his head in the affirmative. "Draco Malfoy."
The woman beamed at him for a few seconds, then her gaze flitted over Theo and Harry.
"Harry Potter..."
"Yes?"
"Please forgive me," the woman waved her hand blithely, "I should make myself known. I am the Lady Morgan le Fay."
The four shocked faces were comical and it caused the woman to chuckle at their expressions of disbelief and wonder.
"Merlin's beard." Harry whispered, and the woman's gaze locked onto his with a scowl.
"He was a braggart filled with vanity and envy."
The group was brought up short, as they didn't know how to respond to that at all.
"This was the home where my beloved son Yvain was born, and throughout the ages, my descendants were all born here, as were you, Hermione."
"I was?"
"Oh yes," Morgan moved her hand out, gesturing for the group to follow her, which they did, "my husband Urien and I came here to live out our days in peace. This was once the bridgeway to Avalon, and a source of comfort for those who sought out the divine powers of Magic's."
"How have you remained here, My Lady?" Theo asked quietly.
"My essence is bound to this place and my magic protects its borders from those who would seek entrance in the hopes of obtaining knowledge and power for nefarious gain."
Hermione gazed over at Harry, who seemed to be thinking the exact same thing she was.
"Have there been witches or wizards who've tried to enter this place?"
Morgan nodded. "Some. The pathway to the heart of magic resides here."
"I don't understand," Hermione's voice was shaking, "the heart of magic?"
"Yes, child. The source where elemental magic came to be."
That comment caused them all to stop in their tracks—each pausing to take that bit of information in.
"Do you know why my mother and her family would've left this place after my birth?"
Lady Morgan shook her head sadly, "Alas, it has been far too long since I've been called forth and as such, my magic has lain dormant for far too long. You, Hermione, will have sufficient power when the time comes to open the portal and bring light back into the darkness."
"I don't understand?"
Morgan just replied cryptically, "You will. The veil is thinnest within the stones and under the root of the cosmos—where the boundary of rebirth is met."
And with those final words, the Lady Morgan faded into the falling light.
After she was gone, the four of them stood and gaped at each other until Theo blurted out, "Did that just happen?"
They all nodded.
"Holy shite!"
"Language, Theodore."
Theo grimaced, but continued to look around as if he still couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed.
"Why do you think she showed herself now, and not before?" Harry wondered aloud, and Hermione had to admit, she was curious about that as well.
"Maybe we should keep this quiet?" Draco posed his question to Hermione, then looked to each of the others in turn, "It might be prudent to keep this to ourselves, at least for now."
"I agree," Harry nodded firmly, "the less people who know about this, the better."
The foursome all nodded in agreement, before heading back towards the Manor.
When they got there, Bunny had snacks waiting with some warm hot cocoa and chocolate biscuits. After they'd had their fill, Hermione promised Bunny she'd be back for Easter, but that she would check in weekly to make sure everything was alright and to contact her should anything odd untoward occur.
"I wills, Mistress."
Taking each one of her wizards back in succession, it wasn't until she was left alone with Draco later on that evening that he asked her how she was feeling.
"I don't know," she responded carefully, "I think I'm still processing it all. It almost feels too surreal to be true."
"Do you think that it had anything to do with the fact that I was there with you?"
Considering that thought, she had to admit—she'd wondered that too.
"Maybe?" She admitted with a small sigh, "I just wish I knew what she meant by her words."
Draco pulled her into his lap as they sat together within the common room in Slytherin—which was fairly empty save for a few people lurking about. Luckily, Hermione had erected a few privacy wards, so they could have some peace while they talked.
"I think you shouldn't stress over it, love," Draco's voice was cajoling, because he knew how his witch would overthink this, "the answer will likely come in time. I don't think researching at all hours in the library is a good idea either. If we are to keep this secret, we will have to be judicious with how we go about our investigation."
Hermione sighed unhappily, but knew Draco was right.
They were still working on their mind Magic's, and both Harry and Theo's Occlumency was fairly advanced—but that didn't mean they didn't need to be careful.
"I need to tell my Grandmother," her voice lowered as she finished timidly, "and as much as I abhor the idea..."
"I know." Draco interrupted, not needing an explanation.
His parents would have to be told at some point too, and he wasn't looking forward to that conversation at all.
"Do you know if your Father and my Grandmother?"
Draco shook his head, "No. I haven't heard a peep from my Father lately."
"That's not worrisome." Hermione's voice held a sarcastic edge to it, and Draco didn't want to admit that he was troubled by the lack of communication too. He knew how stubborn his Father could be, but he also had a pretty good idea that Muriel Prewett would come out of the negotiations on top.
That witch was scary.
As it turned out, Draco was more right than he knew.
Chapter 65: The Snake
Summary:
Lucius fumes over his inability to get a contract in place.
Chapter Text
Slamming the parchment down on his desk, Lucius Malfoy stood from his seat and made his way to his set of fine crystal decanters to get a tumbler of firewhiskey—hoping to soothe his frazzled nerves.
As he poured himself a glass, his floo went off—signaling he had a visitor.
Turning to the hearth, he saw Thoros' face in the flames.
"Lucius, do you have a moment?"
Setting his glass down, Lucius waved his wand and opened the floo for his fellow comrade to come through.
A few seconds later, Thoros was standing there siphoning off the soot from his robes, and with a quick glance and nod at Lucius' gesture—had his friend handing him a half full glass of firewhiskey as they both sat down on the sofa.
"You seem unsettled." Thoros eyes gleamed as he considered the Malfoy Lord over the rim of his tumbler, watching Lucius expression darken noticeably.
"Muriel Prewett is a stubborn old crone." Lucius replied, his tone biting, and Thoros couldn't help but smirk.
"You've always known this," Thoros offered in amusement, "so did you honestly expect just because Hermione's magic chose your son, that Muriel would allow you to run roughshod over her in the negotiations?"
Lucius huffed, refusing to dignify that comment with a response—while his friend just eyed him speculatively.
After a few moments of silence, Thoros decided to take pity on his younger friend.
"What's the issue?"
Waving his wand, Lucius accio'd the parchment and handed it to Thoros, who perused the contents with a calculating gaze before throwing his head back in laughter.
"Well...well...well..."
"I don't appreciate your tone, Thoros."
"I don't imagine you would, old friend. But did you honestly believe Muriel Prewett would agree to allow access to anything in relation to the McKinnon family?" Thoros shook his head in exasperation, "Even I know Muriel doesn't have that right, only Hermione does." Thoros gaze then narrowed in accusation, "What exactly are you after?"
Lucius stood and moved over to the area behind his desk where a large portrait of his parents were located. He waved his wand and the painting shimmered, revealing a space behind it. Taking his wand, Lucius cut his finger and used his blood to break through the enchantment, before pulling out a small ledger of some kind. He then reset the wards, and sauntered back over to his spot, handing the booklet to his friend before re-taking his position on the sofa.
Thoros gazed down at the small book with a discerning eye, as he could feel the magic radiating from it. Opening it, he read through the first few pages, his eyes widening in surprise as he continued to read a bit more before closing the book and handing it back to his friend.
"How long has the Malfoy Family had that?"
"Four hundred years, more or less." Lucius set the book down and grabbed his glass to take a sip of his Ogden's finest. "One of my ancestors married into the McKinnon line and that book, from what my Father shared, came from the McKinnon estate."
"Do you know where it's located?"
Lucius shook his head. "No one does to my knowledge except Hermione, and those she's allowed to enter the grounds with her."
"Why is it so important to you to antagonize Muriel in such a vein, when you know her hands are tied?"
"Because I have a theory and if I'm right, it may explain why Marlene McKinnon and her family left their estate during the height of the First Wizarding War."
Thoros lifted an eyebrow in question, but Lucius just took another sip of his drink before standing back up and replacing the book back from where he'd taken it.
"Have you given any thought to the 'token'?"
"I have," Lucius hummed as he sat back down, "and you were holding part of it within your hand."
"So you mean to return a book that rightfully belongs to Hermione to begin with?"
Lucius shook his head.
"Not exactly, old friend." Lucius paused as he took another sip of his drink, before setting it down on the coaster and sitting back, his expression pensive, "I believe that I am close to discovering the truth behind the McKinnon's death."
Thoros was taken aback. "They were killed by Dolohov after Pettigrew outed their location, we both know this."
"That's the simplest answer," Lucius agreed, "but I'm not convinced it's entirely the correct one."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"We suspect Dumbledore encouraged the family to leave their ancestral home for reasons no one can guess, but what if the Manor itself was compromised to begin with, and the family had no choice but to leave?"
Leaning forward, Thoros eyes glittered with intensity, "How?"
"For generations, it's been assumed that McKinnon Manor was nigh on impenetrable, but as we've learned recently, there may be certain instances where wards, even ones as strong as Hogwarts, can be breached and have."
It only took a few seconds for Thoros to understand.
"Animagus."
"Yes," Lucius tilted his head in agreement, "Pettigrew can be ruled out I believe, because as we both know he was the one to tell Dolohov the McKinnon's location after they left their ancestral home."
"Then whom?"
"My future daughter-in-law is an animagus: a phoenix as we've seen. However, she isn't the only one."
"Shite," Thoros murmured deeply, "Dumbledore's familiar."
"Yes. Do you not remember what occurred when Fudge tried to take the Headmaster into custody last year?"
Thoros nodded. "He used his familiar and apparated through the wards of Hogwarts."
"Indeed," Lucius drawled arrogantly, "while the wizard is Headmaster, he can come and go as he pleases. But perhaps he also tried to use his familiar to penetrate the wards at McKinnon Manor."
Moving back in his seat in shock, Thoros pondered Lucius words carefully and as much sense as it made—how would they go about proving such perfidy?
"It doesn't explain exactly why you want access to the McKinnon lands."
"Magic leaves traces as we know, Thoros. If I'm correct, the Headmaster may have been trying to gain access to the McKinnon property for years."
"What if the old coot is an animagus himself?"
"Therein lies the crux of the problem."
Both men considered the issues at hand, but neither one had a clue what to do about it.
"If you're right Lucius, and Dumbledore somehow purposefully made it so the McKinnon's left their ancestral home thereby leading them to slaughter, how do you think your future daughter-in-law might take such news?"
Lucius smirked as he smugly crossed his right leg over his left thigh, as he draped his arm over the back of the couch.
"I believe that Hermione will be rather incensed if we can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dumbledore either directly, or indirectly, was responsible for having her Mother killed. Can you think of a better token than that?"
Thoros chuckled and shook his head at how utterly Slytherin his comrade was.
"I do believe I can't, old friend." Thoros paused then inquired, "But why not tell Muriel directly?"
"Tradition forbids it, you know this."
"It forbids you from outing the token before it's given, but as for myself?"
Chuckling deeply, Lucius silver eyes sparkled with glee, "I believe that just might work, Thoros."
"If you'll excuse me, Lucius? I do think I best make that visit post haste?"
The other man bowed his head in parting, watching Thoros floo away with a satisfied smile upon his face.
Perhaps his friend would succeed where he could not.
Moving back around his desk with the modified contract from Muriel, Lucius added a few codicils and addendums to some of the more cognizant points. He understood Muriel wanted the Prewett line to benefit from the union, but his first responsibility was to his own house. A male heir therefore, was paramount. Of course Draco and Hermione's first born son would be the Malfoy Heir. If other children came from the union, which was unlikely as the Malfoy's hadn't given birth to more than one heir in over 200 years—then he might understand the notion of having any subsequent children taking over either the Prewett of McKinnon estates. The bride price was another issue he was unwilling to negotiate upon. Normally a dowry would be given by a prospective witch's family, but Muriel had decided to enact a more ancient custom and demand an actual bride price for her Granddaughter. She would then match that amount into the dowry and that money would be given to Hermione to use at her sole discretion.
It was a mercenary tactic to be sure, and while he appreciated the volley—the amount in which Muriel was suggesting was ludicrous.
The dowry for Narcissa had been a million galleons, and from what Lucius heard from his friends at school—no witch had ever fetched anything close to that sum.
Muriel wanted twice that amount.
Plus a guaranteed equal sum for each future child, male or female.
That was simply, unheard of.
For a male heir, yes.
A female?
Lucius scoffed at the thought.
Then the witch had the audacity to demand that he agree to fund any Masteries (plural!) that Hermione wished to undertake, as well as research and travel expenses.
There was even a codicil about wardrobe, jewelry, and an unlimited supply of books.
The infuriating crone was trying to put him into the poor house!
Slamming his hand down on the contract, he growled out in frustration.
It wasn't the galleons so much, it was being outplayed by a witch!
A vicious Gryffindor witch whom he wanted to strangle.
His irritated groan as he rubbed both hands down his face wasn't missed by his lovely wife, who even now—was watching him with amusement.
"Luc?"
Silver eyes lifted to his wife and Lucius felt his body instantly deflate at her presence. She could always manage to calm him, even in the worst circumstances.
"Hello, love. How long have you been standing there?"
"Not long. I just came to see what you'd like for supper this evening."
Reaching out his hand, Lucius watched his wife move effortlessly into his study as she perched herself onto his lap and kissed him gently.
"I am fine with whatever." He drawled out lazily, his hands grazing his wife's thighs absently.
Narcissa spied the parchment on the desk, and hummed thoughtfully, "Are you both still haggling over the children's future?"
"You make it seem as if I have a choice?"
"Of course you do, Luc," Narcissa admonished with a wave of her hand, "but you enjoy the challenge too much. Even if Muriel were to give you all you've asked for, you still would suspect duplicity and deceit."
Lucius smiled lovingly at his wife, as she knew him far too well.
"You make that sound like it's a bad thing, Cissy."
"No, it's not," his wife was quick to reassure, "but I'm also fairly certain our Son will not appreciate this game of brinkmanship you insist on taking part of. Draco will be seventeen in a little over four months time. You and Muriel need to get something concrete written and sent to the Ministry before that time."
"Yes, dear." He knew better than to argue with his wife. She was a Black, and despite her outwardly calm demeanor—his little vixen was unmatched in both cunning and cleverness. "I will make sure to get something definitive soon."
"See that you do, dear husband."
Lucius watched his wife stand and smirked at she placed a chaste kiss on his head before she glided out of his study, his silver eyes glued to her backside.
After she was gone, he tilted his head back on his chair and stared at the ceiling—deep in thought.
He had to wonder just how fortuitous Thoros visit to Muriel Prewett would be.
Lucius hoped for his own sake, his friend was better at negotiations than he was at present.
Chapter 66: The Lion
Summary:
Thoros returns to Fosgate Hall.
Chapter Text
Muriel Prewett was sitting in her solarium when Thoros strode in, looking inordinately pleased with himself.
"So?"
"You really should've been sorted into Slytherin, Muriel."
The older woman laughed and shook her finger at the Nott Lord, before she waved him to his seat and Sabbo served afternoon tea for the both of them.
"He showed you the contract?"
"As you knew he would."
"And he admitted his suspicions about Dumbledore?"
Thoros expression darkened, but he nodded.
"You and Lucius are of one mind on this, which frankly, I'm not surprised about at all. Have you given any thought to sharing your suspicions with Hermione?"
Muriel sighed as she poured the tea for the both of them.
"This needs to come from Lucius. I suspected his 'token' would have to be something rather extraordinary—especially if he wishes for Hermione to forgive him for the loss of her Godfather. I'm not going to be here forever, and Hermione's main source of family will be you, Theodore and Harry, as well as the Malfoy's."
"You don't blame Lucius?"
Muriel didn't answer immediately, as she passed Thoros a plate of his favorites and then prepared his tea as he liked it.
"I understand that like you, his service to Tom Riddle wasn't necessarily by his own choice even if he did agree with his ideology. We both remember Abraxas quite well, and what a horrible man he was. I don't think Lucius had much choice in following Riddle, just as you didn't, dear."
Thoros took a measured sip of his tea and nodded his appreciation to his hostess.
As always, she'd prepared it to perfection.
"I just don't see how Lucius is going prove his suspicions without proper evidence."
"Oh, I think Lucius is more clever than we give him credit for. I've often wondered how my Grandsons, the Potters, McKinnons, Edgar Bones and the Longbottoms, were all targeted so successfully within months of each other."
"You don't believe it coincidence?"
Muriel scoffed, "In my experience, there is no such thing," her expression then morphed into one of practiced familiarity, "even Amelia has begun to share my concerns."
The surprised expression on Thoros' face was to be expected, "Amelia has always been a staunch supporter of Dumbledore."
"I think Amelia wished for Dumbledore to believe that, but the death of her brother has never set well with her."
"Who else shares your opinion?"
"Andromeda Tonks and her daughter Nymphadora. Dora, as she goes by—is newly mated to Remus Lupin. Of the active remaining members of the Order, only Alistair and Kingsley seem to be firmly in Dumbledore's pocket."
Thoros pondered this for a few moments before he inquiring seriously, "What do you wish to do about Lucius?"
"I do believe he's on the right track, but I'm unconvinced having access to McKinnon Manor will gain him the necessary information he's looking for. Dumbledore, for whatever reason, has an agenda and likely has had it for years."
"And he's not a stupid wizard."
"No," Muriel agreed readily, "he's a manipulative bastard. Always has been."
Muriel hummed as she gazed out the window and pursed her lips in thought. When she turned her blue eyes on Thoros, she noticed he was watching her with concern.
"What do you know of Elphias Doge, or Bathilda Bagshot?"
"Elphias has always been a reclusive wizard and was rumored to be one of the first members of the original Order."
"And Bathilda?"
"Noted magical historian. Also reclusive. Lives in Godric's Hollow from what I remember."
"Albus also lived in Godric's Hollow as a boy. His brother Aberforth owns the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade. They do not get on."
Thoros sat there and pondered that information before he asked, "Which one is the weak link?"
"If I had to guess?"
Thoros nodded.
"Bathilda. She's old and lonely and if anyone has any information we could use, it just might be her. Tell Lucius to start there."
Lord Nott grinned malevolently as his expression noted his admiration.
"I'd forgotten how diabolical you are, Muriel. Is there anything else I should be concerned about?"
Lady Prewett just snickered, "Don't get on my bad side," her face fell for a moment as she sighed sadly, "truth be told, I've had these suspicions for years, Thoros—but being left out in the cold as I was—it made it impossible to enact my own plans."
Taking Muriel's hand, Thoros felt his stomach drop in shame.
He'd never checked in on Muriel in all the years since the First Wizarding War ended. He'd not been there for Muriel when her daughter passed away from Dragon Pox. He'd dismissed her needs because of his duty to the Dark Lord, and he was deeply ashamed of his actions.
It was not how he was raised to be, and despite his lack of consideration for Muriel...when the time had come and she'd seen the need for his son and Heir to have a place with family and love—she'd opened her home and heart to Theodore and encouraged Hermione to do the same.
He felt like an utter failure.
"I owe you a sincere apology, Muriel."
The older witch's eyes gleamed for a moment, and then she grasped his hand in return and patted it reassuringly.
"I won't offer empty platitudes and tell you it's fine, Thoros. But if there's one thing you can do to make it up to me, is to make sure that Hermione is kept safe and promise that my Fabian and Gideon are avenged."
Thoros took his wand and waved it as he promised solemnly, "You have my magical vow, Muriel—that I will protect Hermione with my life and will make sure those who are responsible for the deaths of Fabian and Gideon suffer the consequences of their treachery."
"Thank you, Thoros."
The wizard nodded and the conversation switched to simpler concerns and as he left Fosgate Hall, Thoros promised himself that he'd make sure that Muriel wasn't left alone again.
Chapter 67: The Token
Summary:
Lucius gives Hermione his Token.
Chapter Text
Weeks passed and Hermione hadn't heard much from her Grandmother, other than negotiations with Lord Malfoy were still progressing and for her not to worry about anything other than her school work.
Draco received the same exact response to his letters.
So with that in mind, both of them decided to let it go for the time being and just spend this time working on their schoolwork and learning more about each other.
Theo and Luna were spending quite a bit of time together as well, and Harry had started dating too.
He was seeing Katie Bell, and even though she was a year ahead of Harry, the two had the same interests.
Primarily Quidditch.
As Easter hols finally loomed, Hermione spent most of her free time on the weekends brewing with Draco, which proved to be quite fortuitous, as she also got to spend a bit of time with Professor Snape. She and Draco discussed their concerns about their eventual bonding with him, as well as the fact that they'd both wanted to get a Mastery in Charms. Severus listened and lamented, then snarled at how unfair it was that he would be required to teach them—and wasn't he doing enough, having to put up with their other extracurricular endeavors too?
Draco pulled his godfather aside after Hermione left the room nearly in tears, taking him to task for being such a brooding, insensitive dunderhead.
Severus sneered at Draco and then left the room, robes billowing behind him—while Draco just smashed his forehead onto his desk—never having in all his formative years, spoken to his godfather in such a way.
Over a week passed by until Severus had deigned to speak with Draco again, and it hadn't even been a proper conversation. He'd just handed over a stack of parchment with the word 'here,' and immediately left the potions lab.
But when Draco read over the papers, he'd felt his body sagging with relief.
It would seem that his godfather, for all his insistence that he didn't have a heart—actually capitulated and agreed to allow Hermione to apprentice their shared seventh year in Charms.
When Draco shared with Hermione the information, which was essentially an intensive schedule for the following year from Severus—she'd taken one look at it and burst into happy tears, snogging him repeatedly throughout the day, and telling him what a wonderful wizard he was.
Of course, he'd been chuffed and righteously smug for weeks afterwards.
Gryffindor also won their next match against Hufflepuff, which set up the final match of the year between Slytherin.
If Draco hadn't been nearly stretched to the limit between classes, perfect duties, his apprenticeship, his witch, and Quidditch; it was compounded by the additional stress of not knowing what was going on with his Father and Lady Prewett. Which only served to fray his normally stoic facade even further.
That was why when Easter hols finally did arrive, it was a huge relief to be returning home for a much needed break from his school work.
He was also looking forward to just spending time quality with Hermione without the other distractions.
So it was somewhat of a surprise to find his Father and Mother waiting for him on the train Platform at Kings Cross, both looking inordinately pleased.
"Father, Mother?"
"Hello, darling." Narcissa kissed her son's cheek in greeting, before he nodded to his Father.
"Not that I'm not thrilled to see you both, but is something wrong?"
"No, Draco," his mother was quick to reassure, "we are having dinner at Fosgate Hall this evening and we thought it might be nice for us to all go together."
Draco wasn't adverse to the idea, but he was also wary. Turning his head, he glanced over his shoulder and noticed Theo speaking with his own Father—who was with Harry and Hermione.
"Is everything alright?" Draco inquired again, quieter this time, "Lady Prewett isn't here."
"She's attending to dinner preparations and asked Thoros to bring the children. He and Theo will be dining with us as well."
Draco nodded, because he had nothing to say to that comment.
"Shall we go?" Lucius demanded haughtily, offering his arm to his wife—who took it with years of practiced ease born of their union—while Draco followed his parents over to his intended and her family.
Once they'd reached them, Hermione's smile had Draco feeling a bit better—his uneasiness fading a bit.
He didn't know why he was feeling unsure, and it was probably his imagination, but he just felt apprehensive.
That feeling didn't abate once they'd reached Fosgate Hall and made their way to dinner. Draco escorted his witch, making small talk with Theo and Potter—trying his best to ignore the feeling of anticipation settling in his gut.
When the meal was done and they were all seated in the solarium—enjoying the clear night sky—his Father stood and addressed the room.
"Narcissa and I wanted to thank you first off, Muriel, for inviting us into your home this evening."
Muriel bowed her head at the concession, while Hermione and Harry just sat there perplexed.
Theo however, gave his mate a knowing nod.
Draco now finally realized what was going on...
Shite!
Draco watched as his Father pulled two wrapped packages out of his robes, the one on top a bit smaller than the one on the bottom.
"As I'm sure you've become aware, Miss Prewett, it is customary for the Patriarch of a wizard's family to offer a token of good will. Something of this vein, signifies not only respect for the witch, but her family as well. As such, tokens are never to be taken lightly, but given and received in the spirit in which the token is intended."
Hermione glanced over at her Grandmother, whose own expression was a strange mixture of veiled curiosity and...satisfaction?
Strange.
Lord Malfoy cleared his throat and handed Hermione the first package. She took it with a sincere 'thank you' and opened the wrapping, her eyes widening as she stared at the antique book.
"This is beautiful, Lord Malfoy," her blue eyes lifted to silver as she inquired, "might I ask what it is?"
"That book, Miss Prewett, has been in the Malfoy Family for four centuries. One of my ancestors married into the McKinnon family and that book you hold there came from the McKinnon library. As you can see, the writings are runic in nature, and whilst I understand some if it—I would imagine the only translation books available are within your ancestral home."
Muriel smirked, as she now understood a bit better just why Lucius wanted access to McKinnon Manor.
"This is..." Hermione swallowed heavily as she gazed at Draco, who was smiling softly at her, "Thank you, Sir."
"You're welcome, Miss Prewett. However, I must admit, whilst I'm happy to return that which is rightfully yours, that is not the token itself." Lucius then handed her the second package which Hermione took with a bit more grace. "This is."
Taking a moment, Hermione nodded to herself as she opened the wrapping and then stared down at the book in astonishment, her eyes widening comically at the title...
The Life and Lies Of Albus Dumbledore
By: Rita Skeeter
"What?"
Harry glanced down at the book, his eyes darkening in suspicion before they landed back on Lucius.
"I know you must be wondering why this book would be consider a token of good faith?"
Hermione nodded, clearly confused and somewhat dismayed.
"Due to our unfortunate past associations, it became glaringly obvious once your history and my subsequent vow was made, there were many things at play I simply had not foreseen. As I have spent these past months pondering those things, it became clear not only to myself, but also to Lord Nott and your Grandmother—that certain truths were purposefully kept hidden. That book there, seeks to expose some of those truths, and perhaps it will also give you more context as to why certain things were allowed to happen. I, as Draco's Father and your future Father-in-Law—refuse to idly sit by any longer as we are all played as pieces on a chess board of another's making. That book you hold, will be published come the morrow. I waited until you, Mr. Potter and Draco were safely returned home, so that you could read what has been written and understand who is most likely responsible not only for the death of your parents, Miss Prewett—but others as well."
Hermione's hands were shaking and she felt Harry's hand covering hers, as he stared down curiously at the book before he remarked shortly, "Skeeter isn't exactly known for being truthful with her words."
Lucius smirked and bowed his head in agreement, "Perhaps not, but her sources are irrefutable."
"Such as?"
"Bathilda Bagshot primarily, as well as Elphias Doge. Thoros and I even got special permission to visit Gellert Grindelwald in Nurmengard, and he confirmed much of what was written from Dumbledore's early years. He isn't used as a direct source, but he did help us discover a few things we didn't think to look for ourselves."
"And how did you know to ask him, Father?"
"He is Bathilda Bagshot's great-nephew."
"Merlin!" Theo whispered, and Draco nodded. "And she just willingly shared all this?"
"Most of it." Lucius replied with a gleam in his eyes.
"You gave her Veritaserum, didn't you?" Hermione's expression was hard, and Lucius just smirked at how intelligent his son's intended was.
He nodded, seeing no reason to lie.
"Severus brewed it himself."
All the children sat there, mouths agape.
"Uncle knew?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Draco!" Lucius answered haughtily, "You know Severus would've never asked for the particulars. He can't claim plausible deniability if he did."
Draco chuckled and nodded, while Harry and Hermione just sat back stunned.
"Is that legal?" Harry wondered aloud, causing Theo to snort in disgust.
"Does it really matter, Harry? Do you think for a single moment the Headmaster would be so concerned over proper procedure if there was something he desperately needed?"
Harry didn't know how to answer that either, as he'd had doubts for a while about Dumbledore's motivations, especially after Hermione's heritage was discovered and Sirius subsequent death at the Ministry.
Lucius gestured to the book. "Read it, Miss Prewett and prepare yourself. When you return to school, you may find the Headmaster not as agreeable as before. There will be those who will look upon this as a blatant fabrication, but there are others, who will see the truth of the words written therein."
"Why Skeeter?"
"Because it will be assumed she was the sole instigator behind this expose and frankly, if there is any backlash, I gathered you wouldn't be adverse to the witch having to deal with such considerations."
This did get a brief smile from Hermione, before she commented, "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"
"A token as such given—shows great thought and care for the witch it's meant for. I only wished to convey not only my contriteness for our shared past, but hopefully show you my sincerity and ability to protect you as the future wife to my son and heirs to the Malfoy Family."
Hermione stared down at the book again, her mind swirling with thoughts, but the most persistent one was simply voiced as, "I don't know whether to be abhorred or impressed by your thoughtfulness, Lord Malfoy."
Lucius chuckled. "If it hadn't been for your parents being such lions, Miss Prewett—I'd imagine you would've done quite well in the House of Snakes."
"Now you're just being cheeky."
The genuine laughter that fell from the Malfoy Lord shocked those within the room, but his expression was filled with mirth as he considered the young witch before him.
"I don't think in all my years, I've ever been accused as such."
"Not true, darling!" Narcissa lamented with a conspiratorial wink to the young witch, who shared a genuine smile with her future Mother-in-Law.
Theo then cleared his throat and gave his cousin a questioning look, and both Harry and Draco knew what Theo was asking silently.
Hermione sighed but nodded, as she turned to her Grandmother and said seriously, "Grandmother, I have something I need to tell you."
Chapter 68: Master Manipulator
Summary:
May the real Albus Dumbledore, please stand up?
Notes:
Love...love...love the great comments! You all are wonderful!
Chapter Text
The Life and Lies Of Albus Dumbledore
Forward by: Betty Braithwaite
It tis to be noted, that Albus Dumbledore—venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as the former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot—has lived a reclusive life and as such, there remains an aura that surrounds him like a veiled cloak of mystery and intrigue. His more notable exploits are widely known, but the motivations behind those accomplishments were purely speculative.
Until now.
In his formative years, Albus Dumbledore lived with his family in Mould-on-the-Wold until his father, Percival—was sent to Azkaban for the murder of muggles, and his mother Kendra moved Albus, his younger brother Aberforth and his youngest sister Ariana, to Godric's Hollow.
It was there, the venerable wizard met Gellert Grindelwald, great-nephew of the noted magical historian Bathilda Bagshot.
It was also in Godric's Hollow that the true nature of who Albus Dumbledore truly was and is, would become born.
Gellert Grindelwald, as we all know from history, was a dark wizard. A zealot who attended Durmstrang and was subsequently expelled at the age of sixteen for his penchant for twisted and dark experiments. Undeterred, he branched out and eventually joined forces with Dumbledore, their ideologies as youths bent on "World Domination" and "Wizarding Supremacy," all for the Greater Good. Correspondence between the two wizards was of a decidedly 'intimate' nature and can be seen starting on page 394.
But this was not the most scandalous of truths...no...
Dumbledore was given charge over his sister, Ariana—whose own magical gifts being somewhat suspect caused the altercation with Muggles when the girl was young, and this was the impetus for their Father's imprisonment. Being the eldest son, the care for his baby sister fell to the young Albus, but he resented this responsibility and lamented often to his good friend, Gellert—wishing to be able to join the Dark wizard on his more than questionable escapades.
All that changed one fateful night in Godric's Hollow when a duel broke out between Albus, Gellert, and Aberforth. It was never discovered who cast the killing curse that took young Ariana's life, but Grindelwald left Godric's Hollow, never to return.
In the years to come, Albus Dumbledore made a name for himself as a Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. His goal was to shape the minds of those he taught and use them to do his bidding.
Newt Scamander, noted Magical Magizoologist was one such pawn, used to free Albus Dumbledore from a blood pact he'd made with the erstwhile Grindelwald, which eventually lead to the now famous duel between the two wizards.
As the years passed, Albus Dumbledore has led those around him to believe that he is the guardian of the light, but those who have seen his power grow within the British Magical Community, have often wondered just what of the former Albus Dumbledore's motivations remain to this day. Many good witches and wizards have flocked to his banner, all under the guise of the 'Greater Good.' Many of those have died as a result.
This book will separate truth from rumor and give insight into the complex mind of one of the most powerful wizards of our time.
The larger question remains...just whom is Albus Dumbledore really?
For all those questions and more, Rita Skeeter does a superlative job separating truth from fiction...read on!
The Headmaster slammed down the book in anger!
How in the world had Rita Skeeter known where to dig up his skeletons?
There were very few people left alive that knew of that time in his life...three really, and one of those was in prison.
So who talked?
He wasn't a stupid wizard, far from it but...this?
He had not foreseen this!
Albus spent many years seeking out power, with Gellert and without. He was Master of the Elder Wand, and unbeknownst to those at the Ministry when Tom was vanquished—the Resurrection Stone had survived Miss Prewett's power.
Being a Hallow it could not be destroyed.
He knew where the cloak was, and selfishly hoped with the death of the Potter lad—he'd be able to procure all three of the most important magical artifacts the world had ever known.
The one goal both he and Gellert had shared.
The Deathly Hallows.
The goal he'd never given up.
Apparently though, there was more to the Hallows than even he'd known.
The Hallows would only give him the key. But he'd realized in 1979–he needed to get access to McKinnon Manor to open the door—and for over fifteen years, since he'd discovered the truth, he'd desperately tried to find a way into gaining access to the elusive McKinnon Manor.
Oh yes, he'd overheard Sybil spout the Prophecy of the Prewett Heiress.
Albus realized there was so much more to the Hallows on that fateful day.
It had been fortuitous that he'd found himself to be in Scrivenshafts that early June afternoon—after the Order meeting at the Three Broomsticks.
He'd seen Marlene McKinnon and Fabian Prewett walking into the store together, leaving behind the Potter's and Sirius Black and hadn't thought much about it, as he was in the back of the store to grab some supplies.
He was talking quietly with the owner, when he'd heard the bell on the door chime again, and then spied Sybil Trelawny moving into the shop. He was to meet her the following afternoon for a teaching position, and had his reservations about her suitably for the position of Divination Professor. But all that changed when he'd heard the words come from her mouth.
He'd wandlessly stunned and then obliviated Scrivenshaft, whilst making himself invisible to the two people in the shop, who were staring at the witch like they'd seen a ghost.
It wasn't even a month later that the McKinnon family went into hiding.
And the following afternoon, Sybil had given another Prophecy...this one about a child born as the seventh month dies.
One who would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.
He'd simply had no choice but to hire the barmy witch after that—and offered her some measure of protection for her unknowing assistance.
Fortunately through careful plotting on his part, he'd finally played the chess board to his advantage.
Then discovered that the Prewett babe hadn't died after all, and like the Master manipulator he'd always been?
He'd readjusted and recalculated.
For every plan, he'd had a backup to it.
It had been that way during his time fighting Gellert and Tom...all to get to his final goal.
He thought all he'd have to do was sit patiently and wait for the right time to move his final Queen into play...and then this ridiculous book happened!
Fortunately, it had not ruined his plans...but it had put a severe dent into them.
Sighing heavily, Albus had to wonder just how he was going to downplay some of the more outlandish claims within the book. Bringing a libel suit now would cause more scrutiny than he wished to deal with, and frankly...he could simply hope that his reputation as being the purveyor of light and vanquisher of Dark Wizards would generate some good will. Those who knew or highly suspected the truth were all either dead, in prison, or obliviated.
No...bringing more attention to himself was never a good thing.
He'd act the doddering, eclectic, old fool and let the masses think what they will.
If everything went to plan, in a few short months he'd finally have his final goal within reach.
He just had to hope no more unforeseen circumstances would make themselves known, thereby hindering his plans.
He was running out of time.
Chapter 69: The Tales of Beedle the Bard
Summary:
On the return to Hogwarts much is speculated upon, and a few truths are discovered.
Notes:
This chapter contains the actual story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.
Chapter Text
Returning back to Hogwarts after Easter hols filled Hermione with a sense of dreaded anticipation.
Rita's book had become an overnight sensation, selling out in every Wizarding bookstore from Hogsmeade to Diagon Alley.
It had even, according to a letter from Viktor—made it to Bulgaria. Igor Karkaroff, Viktor's former Headmaster at Durmstrang had—according to Viktor—been one of the secret sources behind the book.
Hermione couldn't help but wonder just how many witches and wizards provided anonymous information about Dumbledore to Rita Skeeter.
Several Wizarding publications lamented over the fact that the 'Great Albus Dumbledore' had yet to come out and refute the allegations made in the book.
Some of the more notable ones left both Hermione and Harry reeling.
They'd venerated the man for five years, only to find out now, that he may have very well been setting them up like the lambs for slaughter.
Hermione still didn't understand why.
At least until she'd found Luna on the train sitting with Theo, her normal wistful expression completely absent from her face.
"Hey, Luna."
"Oh hello, Hermione." Luna smiled sympathetically at her friend, "How have you been this past week?"
"I've been fine."
Luna nodded sagely, and Hermione noticed her friend had a letter clasped in her hands.
"My Father wanted you to have this and asked me to give it to you personally," Luna's voice was tinged with worry, "he seemed to be rather unlike himself, these past few days."
Hermione took the proffered letter with a soft, 'thank you,' while Harry and Draco—who'd just come into their compartment, were making themselves comfortable.
"What's that?" Harry asked as he sat down next to his sister on her left, while Malfoy took the spot to her right.
"It's a letter from Luna's father."
Draco lifted a curious eyebrow, "Why would Xenophilius be writing to you?"
Glancing back over at Luna, the blonde witch just shrugged and replied with, "I got the impression the letter would explain it. He didn't tell me much."
Waving her hand at the door and warding it private—Hermione carefully opened the letter to see an elegantly handwritten scrawl staring back up at her—addressing her formally...
Miss Prewett,
I understand from my Luna that you and she are good friends. I had the opportunity over break to read the now infamous book about Headmaster Dumbledore and something caught my attention I thought you should perhaps be made aware of.
On page 394, the correspondence between Grindelwald and Dumbledore would seem to some, rather innocuous, except for the signature at the bottom. Now some might think this insignia to be a meaningless rune, but to those of us who know better, it is the mark designating the most powerful magical artifacts known in existence.
I have to wonder if you are intimately familiar with the old children's tale of the Three Brothers?
If not, I would encourage you to read it again more carefully. That story, is no mere fairytale. Its words are based on a truth so long forgotten, there are very few alive today who remember the tale.
Death, and his gifts, are denoted in the story: The wand, the stone, the cloak. The Deathly Hallows they are called and to possess them all makes one Master of Death.
Dumbledore obviously knew of their existence, and what's more, I believe that he and Gellert Grindelwald may have actively sought them out. Whether or not Dumbledore obtained these treasures is a mystery to be sure.
But there is more.
For legend says that for the Hallows to offer its secrets, they must be returned to the place where they were created. No one knows where this place is, or if it even exists. It is a doorway, a place where the veil is thinnest.
I hope this letter can answer some questions for you. My Luna seemed to believe that you would be in need of as much information as possible. I also wish to convey my everlasting gratitude for your friendship and loyalty to my Luna.
Your humble servant,
Xenophilius Lovegood
Hermione handed the letter to Draco, as Harry had read it over her shoulder and they were both silently communicating to each other about what it could all possibly mean.
When Draco finished it, he gave it over to Theo—whose expression was filled with worried impatience, but once he'd read the letter, he just set it down next to him and cocked his head in confusion.
"I know that story. It's in the book, Tales of Beedle the Bard."
Draco hummed in agreement. "It's my favorite of all the stories."
Both Harry and Hermione just shook their heads, as they didn't know of the story at all.
"I can recite it, if you'd like?"
Hermione answered sincerely, "Please."
So Draco did just that...
There was once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts—and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning—he pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.
So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence; a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an Elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.
The second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.
And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without him being followed by Death.
And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own cloak of invisibility.
Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts.
In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.
The first brother traveled on for a week or more and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and how it made him invincible. That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat.
And so Death took the first brother for his own.
Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him. Yet soon, she turned sad and cold—separated from him as by a Veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.
And so Death took the second brother for his own.
But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him.
It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son.
He then greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they parted this life.
Their group was quiet for a few moments as they all absorbed Draco's words. If Hermione had heard the story as a child, there was no doubt she'd believe it to be some elaborate tale of no great measure...much like the Muggle fairytales of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. But now, she had to wonder just how much of these magical tales night actually be rooted in something more real?
"So the Elder Wand?" She asked and Theo hummed before he replied, "And a Stone to bring back people from the dead."
"A Resurrection Stone." Harry offered, and Hermione nodded too—thinking that was an appropriate title for it.
"And a Cloak of Invisibility." Luna spoke up, giving Harry a knowing look, which no one missed.
Hermione turned to her brother and lifted an eyebrow questioningly, "Harry, didn't you tell me that someone left that cloak for you back during our first year?"
"Yes," Harry's brow furrowed uneasily, "there was a note too. It said, 'your Father left this in my possession when he died. It is time it was returned to you..use it well."
He then pulled out the cloak and enlarged it magically, before handing it to his sister, who rubbed the fabric between her fingers.
Draco however, just scoffed.
"So that thing is how you two managed to sneak around the castle and not get into trouble for five years?"
Harry chuckled and nodded, while Hermione blushed prettily and bit her lip, her blue eyes shining with mirth.
"Uhm, yes?"
"Unbelievable!" Draco growled out lowly, clearly irate, while Theo just stared at the cloak with a questioning gaze.
"When did you get it, Harry?"
"Christmas, first year. It was left for me in the Gryffindor common room."
Everyone pondered that factoid, until Draco spoke up, "So I think it's fairly safe to assume that Dumbledore left it for you, but I think the larger question is why? I mean, if he was seeking out these Deathly Hallows, wouldn't he have kept it for himself?"
The five of them just stared at each other then the cloak, as they pondered that question deeply.
Hermione had to admit that Draco did make an excellent point.
"Why do you think your dad gave it to Dumbledore in the first place though?" Theo lamented with a deep scowl, "I mean, Dumbledore would've had to have had the thing when your parents were killed, right? If your parents had that cloak, Harry—and if it really is a Hallow, it could've protected them, right?"
Harry's eyebrows lifted in surprise as he registered that comment, and by the look on his sister's face, she too seemed to be thinking along the same lines he was.
"What if Dumbledore asked to borrow it, to see if it really was the actual Cloak in the story?" Luna offered quietly, "Maybe your dad really did let him take it willingly?"
"Then why give it back?" Draco asked again, "I mean, the only reason I can see that as an option is it's either not the Cloak from the story, or Dumbledore needed you to have it for some reason?"
"You two would've never gotten away with all the things you did without that cloak, right?" Theo inquired and Harry nodded, while Hermione just sat back and pondered all the variables in her prodigious mind.
"What if he had to give it back?" Hermione finally piped in, "What if for some reason, he not only needed Harry to have the cloak, but somehow was betting on the fact that he could take it back whenever he wished?"
"It did make things easier," Harry agreed readily, "without the cloak we never would've been able to do half the stuff we did."
"Agreed." Hermione nodded slowly, "So this way, he gives you the cloak and he knows where it's at. He can get it back at anytime or perhaps he assumed from the Prophecy, that you wouldn't survive your encounter with Voldemort?"
"What Prophecy?" Theo asked, as he leant forward his forearms resting on his thighs as he turned his attention from Hermione to Harry, and then back again.
"There was a Prophecy about Harry in the Department of Mysteries, which is where we broke into the end of last year."
Draco shook his head, while Theo turned to Luna and gave her a wicked grin, "You broke into the Ministry with these two dunderheads?"
"Well, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Luna replied breezily.
Theo chuckled and Draco smirked at his witch, who was grinning at him.
"So what did this Prophecy spout out about our resident Boy wonder?" Draco drawled lazily, causing Theo to snicker while Harry just glared over at the blonde wizard in disgust before replying...
"Neither can live while the other survives."
"That old coot really believed you weren't going to survive!" Draco scoffed out in disgust, and both Harry and Hermione just stared in horror at each other...wondering how they could've been so blind not to see it.
"What do we do?" Hermione asked quietly, while Harry shrugged helplessly.
"I think we need to know if Dumbledore has the other two items."
"And how do we find that out?" Theo wondered out loud, while the other four just sat there feeling wary and uncertain.
How would they be able to find that out, and just whom could they go to that might have that information?