AN: Really sorry it took me nearly a year to update. 2022 has not been a good year to me. I promise I won't abandon this fic.
A CHILDREN'S TALE.
OCTOBER 9, 1997.
"Are you insane?!" Harry hissed at Hermione, his forest green eyes narrowed to slits. Trying to understand her reasoning was like looking for the Golden Snitch in a thunderstorm which was nearly impossible.
Hermione sat up straight from the ratted couch she was sitting on. "I don't appreciate you questioning my sanity, Harry James Potter," the voice was barely audible, but the warning was crystal clear.
Harry sighed and sat down next to her. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. He knew what she had been trying to do since that night he suggested they took a trip to Godric's Hollow. The excuses were feasible at first, so he decided to get along with it thinking she'd give up eventually. But by the end of the first week, her reasons to delay the trip were getting ridiculous. Her suggestion that they should get Lucius a temporary replacement wand was the last straw.
"Do you even hear yourself, Hermione?" he asked calmly. Harry had learned the hard way from Ron to never match Hermione's anger. It would always end up horribly for them both. "You entered an unbreakable vow with him so that he wouldn't be able to use his wand against us even though we both know that thing barely functions at all. And now you want us to break into Ollivander's shop to get him a perfectly working one?"
Harry leveled his eyes at her, trying to make her see reason. Hermione bit her lower lip and looked away.
"It's only for this trip. We'll take it back once we're safely away," she said.
"What if he tries something while we're distracted?" he persisted. "What if he tries to escape?"
"He won't, okay?" Hermione insisted. Her tone sounded so sure. "He's not going to do anything because he knows Draco is out there somewhere with the Order. His only chance of getting his son back is through us. And even if he did try to escape, what do you think will happen to him if goes back to You-Know-Who empty-handed? Besides, he risked his life just to remove the Dark Mark on him, Harry. I think that should warrant a little bit of trust."
If there was one thing Harry was absolutely sure about, it was Lucius' love for his son. It was likely his only redeeming quality, but it was something that resonated with Harry quite profoundly and something he felt envious of. He had that relationship with Sirius but like all things in his life, it was taken away forcefully and tragically.
Fortunately, right now, Draco was on their side. He hated to admit it, but Hermione had a point. Lucius would likely stay with them until he had his son back.
"I trust him to only look after his self-interest," he grumbled, feeling like he had lost the argument already. He'd always enjoyed it when Hermione was winning an argument, especially when it was directed against people who often thought lowly of her because of her blood status but he absolutely hated it when she was turning the argument against him—which was happening right now.
"He wouldn't be a Malfoy if he doesn't," she said with a small smile. "I just don't want him to become a liability if something unfortunate happens in Godric's Hollow. This is new territory for us, Harry. I don't want another Ministry incident again. We have to take all the precautions we can get."
Harry's shoulders slumped in defeat, remembering how they nearly lost Ginny if it wasn't for Lucius. Compromise, a voice reminded him.
"We'll get the wand today while it's still early but we're leaving as soon as we find something that works for him," he said with finality.
Hermione's eyes tightened but she nodded. "We should start cleaning this place and pack up."
"I'm going to miss this place," Ginny sighed by the back door of the joke shop.
"Your brothers own this place, Gin," Hermione rolled her eyes as she slung her beaded bag over her shoulder. "You can come back here once all of this is over."
"Yeah, but I can't exactly squat in here with you three again, can I?" the redhead chuckled.
"No, you can't," Hermione agreed. "The twins would freak out."
"Now that's a sight to see," Ginny gave her a mischievous grin.
Footsteps sounded across the room and Lucius then came around the corner followed by Harry. The latter carried a small, transfigured rucksack on his back while the former only had his broken wand tucked inside his makeshift holster. The rest of their things were safely hidden in Hermione's enchanted beaded bag.
"We've cleaned the place up as best as we could," Harry said as walked towards the two women. "Are we all set?"
Everyone nodded their heads and Hermione took that as a cue to cast the necessary protective charms on all of them. Even though no one had discovered them yet, it was better to be cautious. As she muttered the last incantation, she and Lucius locked eyes with each other for a moment before she looked away hastily. Although it didn't escape her notice the way his frosty, blue eyes held an excited gleam to them.
She had been trying to limit her interactions with him ever since that night they continued that dance. The attempt proved to be futile since they were staying in proximity of each other, and she ended up growing closer to him in those two weeks. She had found a camaraderie with him in trying to delay the trip which amused Ginny and frustrated Harry to no end.
And seeing Lucius struggle with his wand every day made Hermione feel sorry enough to suggest going to Ollivander's for a replacement wand. She told Harry a different reason, of course, but it wasn't a lie as well. It might bite her in the arse if Lucius did end up betraying them with it, but she consoled herself that the guilt would be on him, not hers. Well, if he truly did have a conscience after all. If not, then, Hermione would start wearing a jester costume for the rest of her life.
They carefully slipped through the streets of Diagon Alley toward their destination. The wandmaker's shop was a good distance away but the street leading up to it was nearly deserted. It was a slow Thursday morning where people were still mostly inside their offices. Only a handful of pedestrians could be seen hurriedly making their way to their destination—wherever it may be.
The four of them continued forward, their heads ducked low until they finally arrived in front of the abandoned shop.
"So, are we just supposed to enter through the front doors?" Ginny asked as she discreetly looked around to make sure no one was suspecting them.
Hermione shook her head. One look at the front door and she could already tell that it was blanketed with layers upon layers of wards and enchantments. "Let's check the back."
"We should look for any kind of wards and protection," Lucius said, hand darting out to stop Hermione from stepping forward.
She jolted from the sudden gesture and looked at Lucius wide-eyed before regaining her composure. "I know," she said a little breathlessly. She really needed to get her grip together when it came to him.
There were actually quite a few nasty wards surrounding the back door entrance as well as some traps inside, but she easily managed to dispel all of them. Hermione's stomach fluttered when she spied the proud look on Lucius' face as they headed toward where the wands were stored.
The place was a lot messier than the joke shop even though Lucius swore that Ollivander never put up any resistance when the Death Eaters took him away, leaving the place nearly untouched. Harry guessed that some people tried to take advantage of the missing owner and looted the place.
"So how do we start?" Ginny asked. "Do we just take a wand and let Malfoy test it?"
"There are probably a thousand wands here. It'll take us forever if we go through one by one," Harry glared at the innocent look Hermione was sporting on the other side of the room.
Well, Hermione internally shrugged. I wasn't going to just surrender, was I?
"Maybe we could look for something similar to his wand?" she suggested, all three eyes were then fixed on the older wizard.
"So?" Harry asked. "What's it made of?"
Lucius pulled out his broken wand, his fingers ghosting over the cracked parts. "Elm."
"And the core?"
"Dragon Heartstring."
Hermione's eyes immediately snapped up to his, but Lucius was still looking at his wand as if held in a trance.
She had expected his core to be Rougarou hair or Basilisk horn—cores that had an affinity to the Dark Arts or dark magic itself. She wasn't expecting it to be Dragon Heartstring. Although she had read in Wandlore for Beginners that Dragon Heartstring wands tended to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it would not incline that way of its own accord. It was also the most prone of the three cores to accidents, being somewhat temperamental. Something Hermione used to justify to herself whenever something would go wrong with her spells especially when brewing potions, being that she also had a Dragon Heartstring wand. Although there was that ugly nagging voice at the back of her mind saying that she wasn't powerful nor skillful enough, hence the reason why she sometimes failed.
Hermione wondered what was going through Garrick Ollivander's mind when he brought Lucius his wand. Had the elderly wizard known the moment young Lucius stepped foot inside the shop what kind of wand he would give him? Or was it just a spur-of-the-moment decision?
Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Lucius finally breaking out of his trance. He placed his wand back inside his holster and leaned against the counter. The three of them now watched Ginny as she paced through the room and back again, eyes skimming the shelves as she passed by.
"But how are we going to know which wand is which? All the boxes here have no label on them," Ginny sighed as she stopped her pacing and went through a small pile to her left. She pulled out a short wand with a smooth handle. "Here, try this."
Lucius plucked the wooden stick from Ginny's hand and gave it a small flick. The impact nearly sent him flying across the room.
"If it was your intention to injure me, you almost succeeded," he muttered as he placed the offending wand on top of the counter.
"Don't be such a crybaby," Ginny said before pulling out another wand from a pile. This one looked similar to Lucius' broken wand although the handle was a couple of inches shorter. The wizard stared at it before giving it a quick swish. Fire erupted from the tip and for a moment, Hermione thought it was Fiendfyre but the flame soon vanished, leaving only a cloud of black smoke. "Guess that's a no then," the redhead sighed.
It was Harry this time who gave Lucius a wand. A dark brown one with a spindly handle. Purple sparks came out when Lucius waved it and immediately placed it beside the two rejected ones. Hermione also suggested a wand, but it ended up on the discarded pile as well when it nearly blew up the entire shop.
For a moment, they feared Hermione's enchantments broke and the entire neighbor heard about the ruckus, but five minutes passed and all they heard was the mundane white noise outside the wand shop.
When they were sure that no one was going to suddenly enter the establishment, the younger three then took turns in giving Lucius something to test but each wand reacted more violently than the last one.
"I wonder how Garrick Ollivander does this sort of thing," Lucius grimaced when another one scorched his sleeves. "How could he tell what wand suits a wizard just by looking at them?"
"And how in Merlin's name did he know what type of wand he's holding?" Ginny said as she continued rummaging through her pile. Hermione had given up and sat on the stool by the counter. "There are no labels here. Just a wand inside a box."
"There is likely an art to it, I supposed," Lucius said, a pained expression crossing his features. "The Dark Lord immediately knew what type of wood my wand was made of simply by touching it."
With a start, Hermione realized that it was the same wand You-Know-Who was using during the battle of the seven Potters. It was the reason why there was no Priori Incantatem although Harry mentioned that golden flames came out of his wand and attacked You-Know-Who even though he had never said any spell or incantation. Hermione hazarded a guess that Harry's wand recognized You-Know-Who even if the latter was using a different wand.
And on that note, Dragon Heartstring wands could change allegiances if won over from their original master. Could it be that You-Know-Who never won the wand from Lucius, hence the reason why it never worked for him?
Although dwelling on it further would not solve their current dilemma so Hermione placed that theory in the back of her mind and glanced at where Lucius was standing.
In this angle, the light outside the windows was hitting his side and Hermione noticed that his blond roots were starting to show. She had been so used to how he currently looked right now that it startled her quite a bit when she remembered how he looked before he cut his hair and dyed it black.
"Ollivander always said that the wand chooses the wizard. Maybe they are sentient and can whisper to us wizards. We just don't understand them yet as Ollivander does." Harry theorized.
"It is highly unlikely that wands can communicate that precisely," Lucius argued. "Although I do agree that wands are sentient on some level that wizards or wandmakers at the very least can connect with it."
He then strode on a nearby shelf and Hermione watched as he carefully inspected each one, maybe trying to get a feel for it until he stopped and pulled out a bleach white one with a longer and smoother shaft. He looked around the three of them, his eyes landing last on Hermione before whispering Lumos.
They waited but a minute went by, and the wand did nothing. All four of them collectively released a breath they didn't know they were holding.
"That sucks," Ginny said. "I thought there's going to be a 'eureka!' moment there."
"I think that's an improvement compared to the rest of these wands here," Harry replied as he patted the rejected ones.
"Try it again," Hermione suggested. Ollivander always said that the wands were the ones who chose their owners, but she couldn't help but think that it can go both ways. "Although say the incantation a little louder this time. Like you're asserting your ownership over it."
Icy blue eyes bore into her soft brown ones and Hermione resisted the urge to look away this time. Lucius then held out his arm as far away as could from himself and said the word this time with much clarity and conviction.
"Lumos."
The tip of the wand immediately flickered, and Hermione thought that the wand would resist Lucius again but, in the end, it produced a bright, warm light.
"It worked!" Ginny exclaimed.
Lucius' shoulders visibly relaxed and he sent Hermione a grateful smile, making her stomach churn again. Luckily, beside her, Harry leaped into action dispelling the moment quickly.
"Finally," he said as he grabbed the rejected wands and placed each of them back in their respective empty box before turning back to the other three who were inspecting the newly acquired wand. "We should go before someone else decides to go into the shop."
When the wards Hermione dismantled earlier were placed back again, she turned to Harry, a question on the tip of her tongue.
"So, Godric's Hollow then," she began, and Harry bobbed his head in the affirmative. His green eyes held a little bit of excitement to them which Hermione immediately extinguished with her next words. "Have you thought about how we're going to get there? Apparition is out of the question since we don't know the coordinates and I don't trust Lucius to do a side-along yet with his new and probably slightly unstable wand."
A glare was thrown in her direction. "I know what you're trying to do, and it won't work." Harry then rummaged through the pocket of his robes. "Do any of you have any galleons left or sickles at least?"
"I have three galleons and a few sickles," Hermione said. "Why do you need it?"
Harry grinned at her mischievously and Hermione knew in an instant that she wasn't going to like whatever her best friend was planning to do.
"We're taking the Knight Bus."
They were standing in front of the Leaky Cauldron's Muggle entrance along Charing Cross road and as soon as Potter stuck out his hand, Lucius held back the urge to strangle the boy then and there when the Knight Bus screeched to a halt in front of them. He had heard of it from his associates, but he never dared to try this piece of Muggle-esque outrage—until now, unfortunately.
The narrow, glass double doors hissed and swung open, revealing a slovenly young man in a wrinkled purple uniform that he later learned from Granger was a conductor's uniform. The conductor's dull brown eyes flicked between the four of them before ushering them hurriedly inside. "C'mon in now! We haven't got all day!"
Lucius expected the interior to be different, but it looked just as narrow as it was on the outside. Metal seats that looked like they hadn't been cleaned for a long while lined the bus and he also notice it wasn't fastened or bolted to the floor or the wall. An odd-looking chandelier hung in the middle, and he looked up to see that it was an open space that reached the third floor. At the front of the bus was an elderly man with an unshaven face and thick eyeglasses, making Lucius wonder if the old man was even capable of operating this monstrosity they called 'vehicle'. The entire contraption reeked of rust and burnt coffee.
If this does not kill me, then nothing else will, he shuddered as he was forced to sit beside Granger. The seat creaked, the sound reminding him of the prison doors in Azkaban and Lucius hadn't realized he made an unusual sound when the girl beside him placed a hand on his bicep. He nearly jumped at the physical contact.
"Are you okay?" she asked, a hint of worry in her tone. If he hadn't been around her for a while, he wouldn't have noticed it. Granger worrying about him was still a concept he was struggling to come to terms with. "I've ridden this bus before. It's a bit unpleasant but we'll be fine."
Before he could even open his mouth to reply, the bus propelled forward and the four of them were thrown back. Lucius let out a grunt of pain when the metal chair dug onto his back, nearly toppling him over. His survival instincts were the only reason he was still seated, his hands turning white with the way he was gripping the pole near him.
As the bus then swerved to the right, he heard Granger let out a yelp. His arm darted out and yanked her to him just in time.
"Thanks," she said. This close, Lucius could feel her heart beating just as fast as his. He gave her a look that clearly said, 'we'll not be fine' and she gave him a sheepish smile in return.
Potter and Weasley weren't as lucky as them though. Potter fell out of his chair when the bus made another turn and then collided with Weasley when a Muggle vehicle nearly hit them, forcing the bus to jerk to the other side.
"Eleven sickles each," the young man said when the bus was finally running steady. "Thirteen sickles if you want a hot chocolate and fifteen sickles for a hot water bottle and a toothbrush in the color of your choice."
"No, thanks," Potter answered as he pushed his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. "We'll just pay the eleven sickles."
"Suit yourself," the conductor shrugged as he handed them their tickets. "Where are you lot headed?"
"Cornwall," it was Granger who answered. "Godric's Hollow, to be exact."
"That's quite a distance, eh? Well, I hope you won't regret not taking the hot chocolate," the young man said then he tapped on the small partition separating the passengers from the driver. "They're headed to Godric's, Ernie. Better floor it if we want to make it back to the Leaky in time!"
The oncoming traffic whipped past them in a blur. It reminded Lucius of how it used to feel riding a broom through the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. He had always wanted to be a Seeker, but his body built made it hard for him to move as flexibly as he wanted. He became a Chaser instead and brought Slytherin the championship cup for three years until his duties as an heir made him quit the team.
They were thundering now on a narrow country lane and the conductor who was a few feet away had unfurled a copy of the Daily Prophet and was now reading with his tongue between his teeth. Lucius froze when he spotted four familiar photographs blinking at him from the front page.
He wasn't the only one who had noticed. The other three were less than subtle and were gawking at the newspaper. The conductor must've sensed something because he lowered his newspaper and flinched when he saw the four of them staring.
"Whatcha starin' at me for?"
"N-Nothing!" Potter stuttered. "We were just wondering where Stan was?"
Nice save, Lucius thought.
"Stan, you say," the conductor narrowed his eyes. "Didn't ya hear?"
"Hear what?" Weasley urged.
"Ol' Stan was claiming he knew something about them Death Eaters. He says he's got the information, ya know? Pretty bad dark stuff," the conductor shuddered exaggeratedly. "The Ministry took him away. Locked 'im up in that big island. Though last I heard, he escaped with the rest and joined You-Know-Who's ranks. He's probably out there now, killing Muggles with the Malfoys or You-Know-Who himself."
As soon as the word Malfoy was mentioned, all three of his companions looked at him with eyebrows raised. Lucius shook his head disbelievingly and opted to just stare at the window instead. He watched as the bus rolled through the scattering bushes and wastebaskets, telephone booths, and trees.
He couldn't wait to get off this bus.
The narrow glass doors gave a pneumatic hiss before slamming shut as soon as Ginny stepped off the Knight Bus. It then sped off as fast as it came to them when Harry hailed it almost an hour ago and Ginny was glad to see it go.
"We're not getting on a Knight Bus again," Hermione said, her face looking grave. "I'd rather splinch myself apparating or fly on a broomstick. Anything but that thing."
"I wholeheartedly agree with you on that," Malfoy murmured looking just as serious as Hermione, his eyes still looking at the point where the bus disappeared.
Ginny chuckled while Harry looked deeply offended at Hermione's statement.
The redhead stretched out her limbs which grew a bit stiff with the way all the muscles in her body were so tensed during the entire ride from Diagon Alley to wherever they were now. The Knight Bus wasn't so bad. By the fifth swerve that nearly flung all four of them off to the front, Ginny used a temporary sticking charm on her seat. It did the trick, but she still felt strained from maintaining it throughout the ride.
She also purposely neglected to tell her companions about it, enjoying as the others yelped and squeaked (or grunted in Malfoy's case) whenever the bus would make a hard turn or a sudden break. It was also just as interesting to watch the way Malfoy held Hermione so close to him as if she would disappear if he let his hand loose.
It reminded Ginny of that night two weeks ago when she was jolted awake from a nightmare, only to find her best friend and her father's arch nemesis slow dancing by the window. At first, she thought she was still dreaming but soon realized she was fully awake, and that Hermione and Malfoy were actually slowly swaying to the music coming off from the Muggle radio Fred and George kept in the storage. That radio was supposed to be a gift for their father but unfortunately, wars had to be fought first.
Ever since that night, Ginny kept wondering how much Malfoy had changed. She had known the older wizard ever since she was a toddler and his hateful views about anything other than rich Purebloods like himself (she wasn't sure if the Malfoys didn't hate the Goyles though). She had no idea what prompted such a gesture and who initiated who, but the fact that Malfoy was willingly (from the looks of it!) doing something mundane as dancing with a Muggleborn like Hermione spoke volumes.
Could there be an ulterior motive? Of course, yes. Despite the urgency of their situation, Malfoy was still a Slytherin through and through and Ginny wasn't naïve. That whole possessed-by-Horcrux-diary-thing during her first year in Hogwarts was a huge wake-up call for her.
But she couldn't really ignore the fact that the poster child for blood supremacy (Ferret was up for debate) would even deign to agree with Hermione's statements even so far as to dance with her. Ginny was reminded of that 'film' Harry made her watch during their stay in Hermione's place.
War brings out the worst in people.
But could it also bring out the good in them as well? When all of this was over, would Malfoy go back to the way he was? Back to hating Muggles and Muggleborns? Would he try and make their lives miserable again? Would he try to sabotage her father's job in the Ministry again?
Ginny looked at Malfoy who was now arguing with Harry about something. She had to hold her judgment until everything settled itself. For now, she would keep a close eye on not just him but Hermione as well.
The sun had begun to set when they finally reached the small village of Godric's Hollow. They stood on a narrow lane blanketed in a thin layer of snow that gave off a dark orange tinged from the rapidly approaching twilight. Looking up, Hermione could already detect a few feebly glimmering stars in the night sky. There were cottages lining up the entire lane, most of it had Halloween decorations scattered across.
"What do we do now?" Ginny asked beside her.
It had seemed to be the running gag of their group for some time now. Hermione thought that having Lucius here with them would make things a lot easier, but the older wizard was just as clueless. Sure, he had been a lot of help most of the time, but she would be a lot more appreciative if he could at least guide the three of them in the right direction.
"Well, it was Harry's idea so let him lead the way," the wizard in question snapped, still fuming from his argument with Harry upon arriving here.
Instead of rising to the bait, Harry only glared at Lucius and proceeded to walk into the village. Hermione rushed to her friend's side and whispered, "We only have an hour, Harry."
"I know," came the stern reply. Harry continued walking briskly while Hermione tried to keep up with his strides. Behind her, Lucius and Ginny followed, their eyes scanning their surroundings.
"Lucius has a point, Harry," Hermione insisted, relieving the earlier argument. "If people saw us just milling around, they would get suspicious."
"What alternative do we have, 'Mione?" Harry stopped. "Because I'm not going back to the joke shop without answers."
"This wasn't about that incident you saw in You-Know-Who's mind, was it?" Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and counted to ten backward. When she had sufficiently calmed enough, she spoke again. "That was just an excuse to satisfy your curiosity?"
"Dumbledore lied to me!" he hissed. "I had to see it for myself. I had to know what else he was keeping from me!"
"At the expense of our safety? We needed to locate these Horcruxes and find a way to destroy them, Harry. That was the whole point of this mission!"
"And where are we on that front, 'Mione?" Harry snapped. "It's been weeks since we got that locket and we're no closer to destroying it. What if we find something useful here? What if You-Know-Who had hidden one of his Horcrux here?"
"It's all what-ifs!" Hermione yelled. "We can't just base everything on—"
"It's a good thing I had the presence of mind to cast a privacy charm around you two or the entire neighborhood would be calling the Aurors on us right now," Ginny interjected and gave a stern look at Harry. "All this fighting would get us captured by the Ministry or worse, the Death Eaters. And since we're already here, why don't we just get on with it, okay?"
"The more time we spent standing here, the more likely they'll notice us," Lucius said.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Ginny remarked, earning her a glare from him.
They continued following the narrow lane until it curved to the left and they were greeted with the heart of the village. The small square had a pub across it, several shops, a post office, and a little church whose
stained-glass windows were glowing jewel-bright across the square. At the center was what looked like a war memorial, partly obscured by a tall windblown Christmas tree.
The four of them went over to the obelisk covered in names and Hermione knew by the sudden intake of breath beside her that Harry's parents' names were part of the ones written there.
"There's a graveyard over there," Ginny pointed behind the obelisk.
They made their way to row upon row of tombstones lightly covered in snow. Keeping her hand closed tightly on the wand in her holster, Hermione followed Harry to the nearest grave while the other two closely trailed behind them.
Joseph Abbott
21 April 1911—9 October 1974
Loving husband to Sarah Abbott
We can never forget those who give us so much to remember
"An Abbott. Do you think he's related to Hannah?" Harry asked but the silence was the only response he received.
They waded deeper and deeper into the graveyard, stooping to peer at the words on old headstones, now and then squinting into the surrounding darkness to make absolutely sure that they were unaccompanied.
"Look here!" Ginny called out to them.
Hermione was two rows of tombstones away from them so she had to wade back, her heart positively banging in her chest at what Ginny might have seen.
"Is it—?" she heard Harry start to ask when he was closer, but Ginny shook her head and cut him off.
"No, but look!"
She pointed to the dark stone. Hermione, Harry, and Lucius stooped down and saw, upon the frozen, lichen-spotted granite, the words KENDRA DUMBLEDORE and, a short way below her dates of birth and death, AND HER DAUGHTER ARIANA. There was also a quotation like the other headstones:
Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
"I guess Rita Skeeter wasn't entirely lying in her book," she heard Harry say curtly. Before she could even say anything, he stood straight and said, "I'm going to keep looking for my parents."
"I'm going to accompany him," Ginny said before rushing to Harry's side.
"I do hope he finally gets the closure he wanted when he finds his parents' graves," Hermione jumped at Lucius' somber tone. "Then again, I do not think I will ever find closure until I have avenged their deaths and put those responsible six feet under that dirt."
"I don't know how you could even muster the audacity to say those things," Hermione said icily. "It was your Master who was responsible for their deaths. And you as well." She added the last part accusingly.
"Me?" he said disbelievingly. "I was not the one who wielded the wand, Hermione. I was not even there."
"You and your fellow Pureblood friends supported him, Lucius. You were the one who placed him where he is right now. Indirectly, you were responsible not just for the Potters' deaths but for the other countless innocent people as well."
"And now I'm making up for my mistakes by helping you bring him down."
A mistake. Decades of prejudice. Decades of mistreatment and isolation her kind had suffered, and he considered it simply a mistake. Like it was a miscalculation on a potion's ingredient or an error in runic writings. Things that can be rectified immediately either by revising or starting over again. Neither of those things can be applied to that mistake he implied, and she could feel that rage bubbling up.
"Are you?" she stepped a little closer. Hermione gazed into that frosty blue eyes of his, looking for the truth in his words but all she could see was an impenetrable wall of ice. Hermione didn't believe for a fact that Lucius Malfoy had completely changed his mind regarding everyone's blood status after spending some considerable time in her presence. But an improvement from his bigotry would have been a great start. "Are you really repentant, Lucius? Do you really feel guilty for those innocent Muggles you hunted for sport only because you think they were beneath you? Do you still think of them that way? Of me?"
Lucius stared hard at her but the anger that had built up inside her was much more powerful. Hermione felt as though Lucius was the way he was due to endless indoctrination since birth, on top of an already arrogant personality.
Take a kid, let him know he was the only son of the most wealthy and influential family among the sacred twenty-eight, give him a lifetime of propaganda about Pureblood supremacy, family duty, loyalty, and all that, and eventually you'll end up with someone who was so far down the rabbit hole that even the thought of letting innocent people suffer seemed like a reasonable thing to do.
And it angered her because she cared about him enough that she wanted him to become a better person. She wanted to dismantle everything that made him who he was and rebuild him into a different man. A man who was capable of love for another person who wasn't an extension of his blood. A man who felt compassion and empathy for people and creatures mistreated and neglected by society just because they don't represent the majority, or their blood wasn't worthy enough.
"I cannot take back those lives lost in the war, Hermione," he said through gritted teeth. "What do want me to do? Do you wish for me to prostrate myself in front of you? Do you want me to sacrifice myself? To offer my life just to appease you?"
"I want accountability, Lucius," she sighed feeling her anger drain her, replaced by disappointment. He had evaded answering her questions again and as much as she wanted to change his mind right now, they had more pressing matters to do. It had been twenty minutes since they stepped foot into the village, and they still had more than half an hour left.
She trudged through the snowy pathway until she found Harry who was now kneeling in front of a white marble headstone while Ginny stood beside him with her head bowed. Hermione didn't need to read what was engraved upon it to know whose headstone it was, but she stepped closer nonetheless.
JAMES POTTER
BORN 27 MARCH 1960
LILY POTTER
BORN 30 JANUARY 1960
DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.
They were both only twenty-one years old, she thought sadly.
Hermione had a hard time processing that fact. Lily and James were just starting their lives together when it was abruptly taken from them, leaving an infant orphaned. An infant who now carried the weight of the magical world (and possibly the Muggle world) on his shoulders. She glanced beside her to see Harry visibly shaking not out of anger but out of grief.
Without thinking, she pulled him into a tight embrace, pouring all the love she could muster into it. She could feel him taking deep, sharp gulps of the night air, trying to steady himself, trying to regain control. And Hermione wanted to tell him, to assure him that it was okay to let go. To let yourself cry over something you had lost. Instead, she only held him tighter.
Across from Harry, she saw Ginny pull out her wand, moved it in a circle through the air, and a wreath of Christmas roses blossomed before them. When Harry had finally stopped shaking, Hermione gently pushed him off her and pointed in Ginny's direction.
"Harry," the redhead called softly. She knelt beside Harry and handed the flowers which he then laid in front of the headstone. Harry grasped Ginny's hand in gratitude and Hermione looked away, giving the two of them the illusion of privacy.
She noticed Lucius standing far back, having only moved a few rows from where they were both arguing a few minutes ago. He was gazing at a certain headstone, his face giving off a serious expression.
Then, as if he had sensed that someone was looking at him, Lucius looked up and straight into her eyes. Hermione quickly looked away this time, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze.
"We should get going," she said to Harry and Ginny who both nodded although Hermione could tell that Harry was reluctant to leave his parents' graves yet. She placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "You'll have plenty of opportunity to visit them in the future."
She then stood and dusted off the snow on her jeans before making her way to where Lucius was still standing. Hermione peered at the place his gaze was fixed upon, but the stone was so worn that it was hard to make out what was engraved there.
"Ignotus Peverell," Hermione finally read the name aloud.
"Have you read about The Tale of the Three Brothers?" Lucius asked beside her. A nod was her reply. "There were stories from when I was young that the tale was based on the Peverell brothers. Antioch, who was the eldest, Cadmus, the second child, and Ignotus, the youngest."
"The one who greeted Death as an old friend," she supplied. Lucius titled his head in acknowledgment.
"What's that symbol there?" Ginny pointed out. There seemed to be a triangular mark atop the nearly illegible name.
Lucius knelt by the headstone and wiped off some of the grime and snow that had clung to it.
"That's the mark on the book! Look," Hermione exclaimed as she pulled out her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard excitedly. She knelt beside Lucius as she raised the page where the mark was drawn beside the one on the headstone. She then turned to Lucius. "Do you know what this symbol means?"
"That's the sign of the Deathly Hallows," he replied.
"Deathly Hallows?" Harry asked. "Krum said that's Grindelwald's sign the same way you Death Eaters use the skull and snake as your mark which is sort a little on the nose, don't you think? Could use a little bit of imagination on that front."
Hermione expected Lucius to make a scathing retort, but a pensive look crossed his features instead. She waited for him to say something, but seconds passed, and he continued to stare at the point past her shoulder.
"It is not just a mere sign of Grindelwald. It preceded him," he finally said but then he paused again for a moment and Hermione could feel the gears in his head turning and whirring. She was still not used to this side of Lucius after all the months she had spent with him. It was deeply fascinating, and she couldn't help but lament the fact that she didn't know how to use Legilimency even just a little, just so she could get a glimpse of what was going on inside his mind. "This mark is related to the story of the three brothers."
"In the story, Death gave the brothers each a gift for outwitting him. He gave the eldest a powerful wand," Lucius ran a finger along the straight line bisecting the triangle. "The second brother was gifted a stone that can resurrect the dead," his index finger went to the circle on top of the line. "And the youngest one a cloak that can render the wearer invisible," he then traced the triangle enclosing the line and the circle.
"Together, they make the Deathly Hallows," he concluded, his eyes darting to Hermione. "Gaining all three of these will make one the master of Death."
"But there's no mention of the words 'Deathly Hallows' in the story," she said.
"It was posed as a children's story. A cautionary tale of one's hubris," said Lucius solemnly and Hermione couldn't help but think that he was referring to something or someone else. "I used to believe it was so, until now."
"You think the Deathly Hallows exist?" Ginny asked. "Mum also said it's just that—a childish fairytale."
"Tell me, Ginevra, how many Invisibility Cloaks do you know exist?"
"Sure, they are rare, but I think a handful of them exist," the redhead replied.
Lucius then looked at her smugly, "But do you know a cloak that is not a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, or carrying a Bedazzling Hex, or woven from Demiguise hair, which will hide one initially but fade with the years until it turns opaque? A cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Ginevra?"
Hermione opened her mouth to say something but only a surprised gasp escaped her lips. Was he implying that Harry's cloak was the one mentioned in the story?
"Harry, tell me," his attention was now directed to her best friend who was staring wide-eyed at Lucius. "How did you come across that invisibility cloak of yours?"
Harry hesitated and Hermione could clearly see that he was doubting whether to trust Lucius with that information, but she gave him an encouraging nod.
"Dumbledore told me it was a family heirloom. That my father inherited it from my grandfather as I did from him," he explained, eyes darting between her and Lucius. "But that can't be, can it? Maybe they just placed a very powerful magic so it wouldn't wear off."
"You still have a lot to learn about magic, Harry," Lucius said. "All things fade over time no matter how powerful they may be. Vows and pacts have a duration or would disintegrate once it was fulfilled. Even blood magic, the strongest form of magic there is, would cease to exist if the caster did not have a blood relative to maintain it since it is passed down genetically."
"What about the stone that can resurrect life? And the wand so powerful that anyone who wields it becomes undefeatable?" Ginny countered. "If such things exist then everyone would know about it, right?"
Hermione's hands were beginning to go stiff from standing out in the cold longer than they intended. She barely noticed that an hour had already passed, with the way the onslaught of information was going through her mind. She looked at Lucius, impatiently waiting for his answer.
"Initially, I thought the stone in the story was the Philosopher's Stone. But I realized that it was merely an imitation of it. Nicolas Flamel must have tried to replicate the stone though only produced a different kind. Still, it just goes to show you that the stone exists and someone close to Flamel has it—or at the very least, knows about it."
Out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Harry's eyes go wider and it seemed that she wasn't the only one who noticed.
"And the wand?" Ginny insisted.
"The wand is the easiest to keep track of. According to the story, the eldest brother was murdered in his sleep that night and another wizard took possession of the wand. We can assume that the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner if he is to be truly the master of it and since the wand is unbeatable, you must acquire it through different unsavory means hence the reason why it had acquired so many names like Deathstick, The Wand of Destiny, and most commonly, the Elder Wand. You only must look at the bloody trail that was splattered across the pages of Wizarding History."
"So, where it is now?" Hermione asked.
"Who knows? The trail went cold many years ago," Lucius said but his tone said otherwise. "Although I think Harry here has a clue on who was the last owner of the Elder Wand."
Heads turned in his direction. Harry had that hard look on his face, one that Hermione knew he only sported when he was in denial of something but knew deep inside it was the truth.
"Dumbledore knew Nicolas Flamel," her friend eventually supplied. "And Dumbledore was the one who handed me the Invisibility Cloak in my first year at Hogwarts."
The moment he said it, everything suddenly clicked inside Hermione's mind. Like the final piece of a puzzle sliding perfectly in place. The wand, the stone, the cloak. Gaining all three of these will make one the master of Death.
Dumbledore.
Dumbledore. Dumbledore. Dumbledore. Her mind kept repeating the name like it was some sort of spell that would reveal all the answers they needed.
Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore.
"The Deathly Hallows is real," it was Ginny who spoke the words aloud, then she looked at everyone as if to confirm her suspicions. "Right? I mean—"
"We can't jump to conclusions," Hermione said immediately although in her heart, she knew that the possibility of the Hallows existing was likely as true as Harry being the Chosen One.
"This is not the ideal place to talk about it," Lucius said quietly. "I think it is best if we leave the graveyard now. We have stayed far longer than we intended."
Hermione wholeheartedly agreed. Harry gave her a hand as she stood. She gave the headstone one last look before she silently followed Lucius and the others past the row of headstones and out into the pavement.
"Where do we go next?" It was Ginny who broke the silence. They had just passed the church and were now standing near the pub which looked fuller than it was before they came. "Should we try to keep looking for that house Harry saw in his vision?"
"I don't think it's here," Harry admitted embarrassedly. "None of the houses looked like the ones I saw in You-Know-Who's perspective."
"Should we go back to the joke shop?"
For a moment Hermione considered suggesting they take refuge inside the pub first. As much as it felt safe for them to stay in the joke shop, they wouldn't be able to move freely as they needed since they were surrounded by the entire magical community of Diagon Alley. But before she could say anything Harry murmured, "I want to go see the house."
Hermione instantly knew what house Harry was referring to. "But, Harry—"
"'Mione, please," her friend pleaded. "This will be the last one, I promise. Then we'll focus on the Horcruxes."
Ginny shrugged. "We're already here. Might as check it out for a bit."
Hermione glanced at Lucius, but he only gave her that 'I'm not the one in charge here' look.
In for a sickle, in for a galleon, she thought.
"Alright, fine."
They went down the dark street leading out of the village in the opposite direction from which they had entered. Hermione could make out the point where the cottages ended, and the lane turned into open country again. They walked as quickly as they dared, past more windows decorated with cobwebs and other Halloween decorations you could think of until they reached the end of this row of houses where a dark mass stood menacingly. Harry then sped up while the rest kept up with his pace.
"Look…" Ginny trailed off, a hint of wonder lacing her tone. "Look at it. It's… it's…"
Hermione could see it. The Fidelius Charm must've died with Harry's parents, rendering the house visible although Muggles still won't likely see it. The hedges had grown wild in the years since the awful incident while dark ivy covered most of the walls. The right side of the top floor was blown apart. It wouldn't take a genius to know that was where it happened.
The four of them stood at the gate, gazing up at the wreck of what must once have been a cottage just like those that flanked it.
"I don't know if I can go inside," Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to go but I don't think I can—"
"Someone's here," Lucius hissed as he stepped closer to them, assuming a protective stance.
Everyone stiffened at his words. Hermione looked around wildly but only saw nothing in the dark expanse of wet pavement across them. "Are you sure?"
"I can't see anyone," Ginny seconded.
"I have felt eyes on me since we stepped foot inside the graveyard," Lucius affirmed, his other hand now gripping his new wand. "I thought it was just a curious bystander, but I felt its presence again right now. It is the same person. I am sure."
"It could just be a cat?" Harry said but shrunk back a little when Lucius sent him a scathing look. "Or not," he mumbled.
A heavily muffled figure was hobbling up the lane toward them, silhouetted by the bright lights in the distant square. Hermione thought, though it was hard to judge, that the figure was a woman. She was moving slowly, possibly frightened of slipping on the snowy ground. Her stoop, her stoutness, and her shuffling gait all gave an impression of extreme age.
They watched in silence as she drew nearer, all of their wands held tightly behind their backs. Hermione waited to see whether she would turn into any of the cottages she was passing, but she knew instinctively that she would not. At last, she came to a halt a few yards from them and simply stood there in the middle of the frozen road, facing them.
This must be the person Lucius felt watching them in the graveyard. But why was she watching them? And did she follow them here? Somehow, Hermione had the strangest feeling that the old woman knew who they were. She instantly had the overwhelming urge to leave this place.
"Is that…" Ginny gasped. "That's…"
"Bathilda Bagshot," Lucius finished.
AN: I had to cut the story here when I realized this chapter was going to be a lot longer than I anticipated.
Merry Christmas everyone and advanced Happy New Year!
