The Order of the Black Cat

by xWolfx93

During his first year at Hogwarts, Harry befriends Daphne Greengrass and encounters Jingles, a magical cat. Their revelations help Harry see the world isn't just black and white and give him what he always wanted: a family. Together, they form a secret society to better the wizarding world. The OC will be a brotherly figure to Harry. No SI. This is a longfic.

61. Grave Robbing

Chapter 61 – Grave Robbing

The group reached Hogwarts, and the change was palpable. The grandeur of the castle stood as ever, but a tension in the air was unmistakable. As they crossed the threshold of the grounds, they were immediately approached by a squad of Aurors. The imposing figures of the law enforcers were a stark contrast to the usual welcoming atmosphere of the school. Each student, as well as their belongings, was meticulously searched. Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of discomfort at the invasive procedure, though he understood its necessity.

"Everything in order, Mr. Potter?" an Auror asked gruffly, patting down Harry's coat pockets before moving on to his trunk. Harry nodded, suppressing a sigh. This wasn't the Hogwarts he remembered. The war was casting a long, dark shadow over even the safest havens.

Once they were inside the castle, the presence of Aurors was even more pronounced. Patrols marched the corridors, their eyes sharp and wands at the ready. The Great Hall, usually a place of warmth and festivity, felt different too. Aurors stood at each entrance as the students filed in for the Sorting Ceremony and welcoming feast. It was clear that Minister Bones was taking Dumbledore's death and the security of the students seriously, but it still made Harry uneasy. Hogwarts had always been a sanctuary, a place where he felt safe from the outside world. Now, the dangers of Voldemort felt more real than ever before.

The Sorting Ceremony was a subdued affair. The usual cheers and laughter were dampened by the omnipresent tension. As the last new student took their seat, Headmistress McGonagall stood up, her face set in a mask of stern determination. She stepped forward, her eyes sweeping over the assembled students.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," she began, her voice carrying through the silent hall. "First, let us honour the memory of Professor Dumbledore, whose contributions to this school and the wizarding world are immeasurable. His legacy will live on in each of us, and we must strive to uphold the values he cherished."

Harry felt a lump in his throat as he listened. He glanced around, seeing similar expressions of grief and resolve on his friends' faces. McGonagall continued, outlining the additional security measures that had been put in place.

"You will notice the presence of Aurors within the castle," she said, gesturing to the stern-faced guards standing by the doors. "They are here for your protection. I understand that being searched upon arrival was unpleasant, and I assure you, it is not an accusation. Given recent events, we must take every precaution to ensure your safety."

Harry's mind drifted to Draco Malfoy, who was still in Azkaban for a crime that he, Rigel, and Daphne had committed. The tightened security measures were, in a sense, a consequence of their actions. The guilt weighed heavily on him.

McGonagall's speech ended on a note of hope. "These are dark times, but we must remember that light will always triumph over darkness. If we stand united, we will make it through this crisis. Our curriculum has been adjusted to prepare you for the challenges ahead. You are safe here at Hogwarts, and we will do everything in our power to ensure it remains so."

With that, she waved her wand, and the tables filled with food. The welcoming feast commenced, but the usual jubilant atmosphere was noticeably absent. Conversations were hushed, and laughter was rare. The reality of the war had finally seeped into the walls of Hogwarts, making the dangers they faced feel more tangible than ever before.

After the feast, the group gathered in Daphne and Rigel's suite. The room, adorned with Slytherin colours and furnished with plush chairs and a crackling fireplace, felt like a refuge from the grim atmosphere outside. Daphne and Rigel had spared no detail in creating a comfortable yet strategic space, ideal for their clandestine meetings.

Rigel leaned forward, his eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. "I've tasked Tonks to scout out Malfoy Manor," he began, his voice steady and confident. "Combined with the inside information from Snape, this should hopefully provide us with an opening."

Daphne nodded, her gaze sharp and focused. "And the twins?" she prompted, glancing at Rigel.

"I've spoken with them," Rigel confirmed. "They're working on a few plans to get to the snake. We need to find a way to separate Nagini and Voldemort so that we can deal with her."

Harry, sitting across from them, frowned slightly. "What do we do once Nagini is dealt with?" he asked, his tone serious.

Rigel grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Storm the manor, of course. Once the Dark Lord is mortal, we need to act fast. Voldemort is obsessed with immortality. He's probably looking for other ways to protect himself from death as we speak. Time is of the essence—once Nagini is dealt with, he'll surely go underground to secure his life."

Hermione, always the voice of reason, raised an eyebrow. "Storming the manor seems like a task too big for us," she pointed out. "The Death Eaters do outnumber the Order of the Black Cat."

Daphne nodded in agreement but added, "We won't be doing it alone. We'll use the Order of the Phoenix and the Aurors. We'll bring all available resources to end this."

Tracey, sitting next to Harry, looked worried. "Are we sure about this? Loads of people could die," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Rigel's expression turned sombre. "To end this war, sacrifices will have to be made. Some will die, but it will be worth it to end Voldemort's tyranny."

Harry leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "What's next, then? We storm the manor and then what?"

Rigel looked at Harry with a determined glint in his eye. "Then, we provide an opportunity for you to get to Voldemort. You're the chosen one, after all. We'll try to all come along, but our main goal is for you to reach him."

Harry's expression hardened with resolve. "I don't want you to put yourselves in danger."

Tracey reached over, grabbing his hand. "We have to, Harry. We'll do what we must to end this. Afterwards, we can all be a big happy family."

Harry smiled at the idea, a rare lightness in his eyes. He had never put much thought into the time after the war, but the thought of living in peace with his loved ones was a beacon of hope.

Rigel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I'll keep everyone updated on the Order's activities outside Hogwarts. We'll deal with Voldemort as soon as possible. Everyone should try to come up with ideas on how to achieve the goal of getting rid of Nagini, as the plan after that is straightforward. Curfew is approaching, and now there are more patrols thanks to the Aurors, so let's not get into trouble."

With that, Daphne and Rigel wished everyone a good night as they left the suite, each of them carrying the weight of their mission but also a glimmer of hope for the future.

~~~o~~~

That night, Harry found himself adrift in a strange dream. He was in a dimly lit room, the walls lined with shadows that seemed to whisper secrets. In front of him lay three objects: a wand he didn't recognise but was certain he had seen somewhere before, the stone from the Gaunt family ring, and his Invisibility Cloak. Each item felt significant, imbued with an unspoken power, yet their meaning slipped through his grasp like smoke through his fingers.

Harry reached out, his fingers brushing against the wand. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he tried to remember where he had seen it. It felt ancient, its wood smooth and dark, exuding a silent strength. Next, his gaze moved to the stone, a black gem that glinted ominously in the dim light. He knew it was from the Gaunt family ring, but its importance remained a mystery. Lastly, his eyes fell on the Invisibility Cloak, its familiar fabric shimmering under the ghostly light. It was his trusted companion in countless escapades, yet here it seemed to hold a deeper, more profound significance.

The scene blurred, and Harry found himself waking up in his four-poster bed, the dream still vivid in his mind. The room was quiet, the gentle snores of his dorm mates a distant hum. He sat up, the remnants of the dream swirling around his thoughts. Unable to shake off the feeling of importance, he decided to examine the cloak and the stone. He retrieved the cloak from his trunk, feeling its cool, smooth texture. Nothing seemed different. He then opened the small box containing the stone, its dark surface as enigmatic as ever. Frustration gnawed at him; the dream's meaning eluded him completely.

Harry knew that such dreams were often fleeting, their details slipping away like sand through an hourglass. Determined not to lose any part of it, he grabbed an empty potion vial from his bedside table. Carefully, he closed his eyes and concentrated, pulling the memory of the dream from his mind. A silvery strand of thought emerged, shimmering in the moonlight that filtered through the curtains. He placed it into the vial, sealing it with a cork. He needed to discuss this with his friends. Perhaps they would have insights into the meaning behind this peculiar dream.

Despite his efforts, sleep did not come easily. The image of the wand, in particular, haunted him. Where had he seen it before? Why did it appear in his dream? The stone from the Gaunt family ring was equally puzzling, a dark mystery he had yet to unravel. And how were these two items connected to his Invisibility Cloak? The questions piled up, each one adding to his growing sense of unease.

Harry lay there, his mind a whirlwind of uncertainty. He tossed and turned, seeking the comfort of sleep, but his thoughts kept returning to the three objects and their potential significance. Hours seemed to stretch into an eternity before exhaustion finally pulled him into a restless slumber. The strange dream continued to linger at the edges of his consciousness, a puzzle waiting to be solved.

~~~o~~~

The next morning, Harry decided to go through the school day normally and planned to discuss the dream with his friends afterwards. He joined the steady stream of students making their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, the morning air crisp and cool. The enchanted ceiling reflected a bright, cloudless sky, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere inside the castle.

After breakfast, Harry's first class was Transfiguration. He had already noticed last year that the classes had become a lot more intense, but this year, the difference was even more pronounced. As they settled into their seats, Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the class, her eyes sharp and watchful.

Harry had initially thought that spells like turning needles into matchsticks were somewhat pointless, but he now realised their importance. These simple spells were crucial for mastering the basics and preparing for more complex and practical applications of Transfiguration.

The theme of increased difficulty continued throughout the day. In Charms, Professor Flitwick had them practicing more advanced spells that required precise wand movements and concentration. In Defence Against the Dark Arts, the spells were not just about casting but about strategic application in various scenarios. Each subject pushed them further, demanding more focus and skill than ever before.

During lunch, Harry found Hermione in the bustling Great Hall. She was already buried in a thick textbook, her brow furrowed in concentration. He slid onto the bench beside her, grabbing a sandwich and a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"Hey, Hermione," he said, drawing her attention away from her book. "These classes are getting really tough."

Hermione looked up, her face brightening at the discussion. "I know, isn't it wonderful?" she said, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "It's about time we were really challenged."

Harry chuckled at her excitement. "Yeah, I guess. Though I think I need to put some extra effort into Transfiguration and Charms. Maybe I can apply some of it to my fire affinity."

Hermione nodded eagerly. "Absolutely, Harry. These principles can really help you expand your control over fire. It's all about the precision and intention behind the spell."

Taking her advice to heart, Harry paid close attention during the rest of his classes, particularly focusing on anything that might help him with his unique abilities. As the day finally drew to a close, he made his way to Daphne and Rigel's suite for their study session.

The suite, with its Slytherin colours and cosy ambiance, felt like a refuge from the pressures of their intense school day. Daphne and Rigel had already arranged the space with various textbooks and notes scattered across the table. The fire in the hearth added a warm glow to the room.

Harry settled into one of the plush chairs, looking at his friends. "Before we start studying, I wanted to share something with you all," he began, drawing their attention. "I had a curious dream last night."

Tracey, sitting next to Harry, smirked mischievously. "Was it a dirty dream, Harry?"

Harry grinned, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "If it was, Trace, I wouldn't be sharing it with everyone here. Just you." He winked at her, causing Tracey to blush slightly and giggle.

Rigel rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Get a room, you two," he teased, causing Harry and Tracey to laugh.

Harry retrieved a small vial from his pocket, containing the silvery strand of his dream. He approached the Pensieve, carefully pouring the memory into the basin. The liquid swirled, and a projection of his dream appeared above it, vivid and lifelike.

The room fell silent as they watched the dream unfold: the dimly lit room, the mysterious objects - the wand, the stone, and the Invisibility Cloak - each exuding a sense of importance that Harry couldn't quite grasp.

When the dream ended, the projection faded, leaving them in contemplative silence. Rigel leaned back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "That was an odd dream, Harry. The significance of these items is intriguing."

Hermione's eyes were narrowed in concentration, her fingers drumming on the arm of her chair. "I feel like I've read about these somewhere," she murmured, her mind racing to recall the information. Her posture was tense, the effort to remember clearly straining her.

Harry watched her intently, hoping she could shed some light on the dream. Daphne and Tracey exchanged curious glances, waiting for Hermione to dig up whatever knowledge lay buried in her mind.

Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up with realisation. "I think I remember something," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "Harry, I borrowed a book from you last year, one with wizarding fables. There was a story about three brothers who each received a gift from Death, but I can't recall the name of the book."

Harry's face brightened as the memory came to him. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard," he said. "That's the book."

Hermione nodded, her eyes shining with confirmation. "Yes, that's the one."

Tracey, who had been listening intently, raised an eyebrow sceptically. "Are you seriously suggesting that the story about the three brothers is real?"

Harry's eyes widened as he considered the implications. "If that's the case, then my Invisibility Cloak would be a gift from Death."

Hermione looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed as she processed this. Tracey, meanwhile, wore an expression that was a mix of shock and excitement. Both Daphne and Rigel were silent, their expressions pensive as they mulled over the idea.

Neville, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. "If that's true, then the stone Harry has would be the Resurrection Stone."

Harry's heart leapt at the thought, his mind immediately racing to the possibility of finally talking with his parents. He spoke rapidly, barely containing his excitement. "I could finally talk to my parents. I have to get the stone!"

As he made to rise from his seat, Rigel reached out and stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder. "Stay, Harry."

Harry looked confused but listened to his brother, sitting back down. Rigel's eyes were serious as he reminded Harry of the story. "Remember what happened to the second brother. He went mad because of the stone. You shouldn't give in to the temptation of talking with your parents. If you do, you'll suffer the same fate."

Harry's excitement deflated, his shoulders slumping. He knew there was truth in Rigel's words. He remembered his first year, how fixated he had been on the Mirror of Erised, and he realised that talking with his parents would be even more real, more intoxicating.

Hermione, sensing Harry's disappointment, suggested, "Testing out the stone would be the easiest way to confirm our theory that these items are indeed the gifts from Death."

Rigel sighed, then called out, "Kreacher!"

With a pop, the old house-elf appeared, bowing low. "Master Rigel, how can Kreacher serve?"

"Fetch the stone from Harry's dorm," Rigel instructed, his voice steady. "It's in a small box inside his trunk."

Kreacher's large eyes flicked to Harry, awaiting more specific directions.

Harry leaned forward, his tone careful as he detailed the instructions. "The trunk is at the foot of my bed." He paused, making sure Kreacher was following. "It's a small box made of dark wood. Inside the trunk, it's on the bottom left side, underneath some of my clothes and textbooks."

Kreacher nodded, a look of determination on his wizened face. "Yes, Master Harry. Kreacher will find it."

Moments later, Kreacher reappeared, clutching a small box. He handed it to Rigel, who took it with a nod of thanks. "Thank you, Kreacher. You may go."

Kreacher lingered for a moment, his eyes fixed on the box. Rigel dismissed him again, more firmly this time. "Go, Kreacher."

Reluctantly, Kreacher bowed and disappeared.

Hermione, her curiosity piqued, asked, "Why did you dismiss him, Rigel?"

Rigel looked around at the group, his expression grave. "I'll be testing the stone to summon my grandmother. Kreacher was obsessed with her. If he knew about the stone and its capabilities, he would surely steal it and go mad himself."

The others nodded in understanding, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon them.

With the box in his hands, Rigel took a deep breath and opened it. Inside lay the dark, enigmatic stone, glinting ominously in the firelight. The room fell silent, each person contemplating the profound implications of the moment.

Rigel picked up the stone, turning it three times in his hand. The room held its collective breath as an ethereal figure began to materialise. Walburga Black appeared, looking more physical than a ghost, though notably not quite alive. Her eyes were sharp, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

"Why am I here?" she asked, her voice carrying the regal authority she held in life.

Rigel stepped forward, his tone respectful. "We were just testing something, Grandmother. We didn't mean to disturb you."

Walburga's lips curved into a faint smile. "Testing something, are you? I'm proud that my grandson is already dabbling in such dark and forbidden arts as necromancy."

Rigel chuckled softly. "Not necromancy, Grandmother. We were merely testing out an artefact we found."

Walburga nodded thoughtfully. "I see. Well, if that's all, I'd like to go back. The land of the living is dreadfully boring compared to mingling with one's ancestors."

Before Rigel could respond, Harry interjected, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Have you not been watching over us since you died?"

Walburga laughed, a rich, throaty sound. "I left you my portraits, did I not? My memories and personality are still in this world to guide you if needed. I will not waste my time like other spirits constantly watching the living. Exploring the land of the dead is much more appealing. Rest assured, I will look in sporadically over the years, just to see if Rigel has kept his promise of restoring the Black family to its former glory."

Rigel nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "I won't disappoint you, Grandmother."

Harry, unable to contain his curiosity, asked, "What about my parents? Are they watching us? Is Marlene watching Rigel?"

Walburga laughed again, her gaze settling on Harry. "I have said enough. You do not need my answer to know the truth." She then looked back to Rigel, clearly expecting to be let go.

Rigel nodded and dismissed her, and she vanished, leaving the room feeling strangely empty. Harry felt a mix of confusion and hope, internally believing that his parents must be watching over him. They had to be.

Hermione broke the silence. "This confirms it then. The stone is real, and by extension, Harry's cloak must be one of Death's gifts as well."

Rigel sighed, placing the stone back in the box and handing it to Harry, who looked at it with wide eyes. "Here, Harry. Keep it safe."

Tracey, her voice soft, asked, "Rigel, don't you want to use the stone to summon your mother? You've never talked to her after all..."

Rigel shook his head, his expression pained. "I'm not ready for that. Walburga hadn't been dead that long, so I was at no risk of going mad from summoning her, but I'm unsure if I could keep my emotions in check if I summoned my mother."

Daphne placed a comforting hand on Rigel's arm. "That's a wise decision. In the future, when we're stronger and the world is at peace, perhaps we can try it. Both Marlene and Harry's parents."

Harry nodded, regaining his focus. If Rigel thought he wasn't ready, then there was no way he was ready to summon his parents. Though he felt the temptation, he knew he needed to resist it.

Hermione, still deep in thought, spoke up. "The wand from the dream must be the Elder Wand then."

The others nodded in agreement. Tracey frowned, a question on her lips. "Where could it be then? And how could Harry dream of it without having seen it?"

Rigel's eyes sharpened with realisation. "Harry has seen it." Everyone turned to him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and surprise.

Rigel's expression grew more intense as he explained. "I'm fairly certain that the wand from the dream was Dumbledore's wand. You saw it both during the Horcrux retrieval in the cave and during our fight against him. It's a distinct wand, hard to forget."

Harry's eyes widened in realisation. "You're right. That was Dumbledore's wand. But where is it now?"

Rigel sighed, considering the possibilities. "It's probably buried alongside Dumbledore. It's fairly common to bury the wand with the witch or wizard."

Hermione, ever the curious mind, asked, "But why are these items important? Why is Harry dreaming of them?"

Rigel paused, choosing his words carefully. "The gifts from Death are all powerful in their unique ways, but even I can't fully grasp why Harry would be dreaming of them. Perhaps something happens if one unites all three."

Tracey, her eyes glinting with mischief, chimed in. "Maybe we should visit Dumbledore's grave then. Harry already has two out of three, after all."

Daphne shook her head, a look of concern crossing her face. "First, we should research the topic more. What if something bad happens if you unite all three of Death's gifts? After all, he intended for the brothers to die."

Tracey looked shocked, and Hermione nodded in agreement. "That's a good point, Daphne."

Neville, who had been listening quietly, suggested, "This is a topic not many books will cover. We should talk to people, especially older ones, like my gran."

Rigel nodded but added a caution. "We have to be careful not to reveal too much. No one can know that these items are real, and that we have two of them, with a good idea of where the third one is."

The group nodded in agreement, the gravity of their discovery settling in. Rigel took a deep breath, pushing a stack of books towards Harry. "Let's focus on our studies for now. We'll need all the knowledge and skills we can muster."

Harry, Tracey, Daphne, and the others settled around the table, their textbooks and notes spread out before them. The flickering firelight cast long shadows across the room, creating an atmosphere of intense concentration. Hermione, ever the diligent student, quickly delved into her Transfiguration book, while Neville pored over his Herbology notes.

Harry glanced at Tracey, who offered him an encouraging smile. He returned it, feeling a sense of camaraderie and determination. They worked in silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of parchment or the scratch of a quill. Rigel and Daphne whispered quietly to each other, sharing insights and strategies.

Time seemed to slip away as they immersed themselves in their studies. The room grew quieter, the only sounds being the crackling of the fire and the steady ticking of the clock. Harry found himself lost in his Charms textbook, the intricate wand movements and incantations taking on new importance in light of their mission.

As the hours passed, the weight of the day began to settle on them. Despite the seriousness of their task, there was a comforting routine in their study session, a reminder of the normalcy they all craved.

The clock chimed, breaking the silence and reminding them that it was almost curfew. They looked up, blinking away the fatigue and gathering their things. With a sense of shared purpose, they packed up their books and prepared to head back to their respective dormitories.

Harry, Tracey, Neville, and Hermione then left Daphne and Rigel's suite, wishing the others good night. Once they were gone, Daphne turned to Rigel, a hint of admiration in her voice. "That was some good acting on your part. Saying that you weren't ready to meet your mother provided a plausible reason why you wouldn't summon her, and it also deterred Harry from summoning his parents."

Rigel nodded, his expression serious. "My grandmother revealed something we had suspected. The dead are watching over us. If Harry were to meet his parents, they would surely tell him what we've been up to, putting a strain on our relationship, or possibly alienating him from us."

Daphne sighed, nodding in agreement. "It's a delicate situation."

Rigel's face softened with a touch of vulnerability. "This also means my fear was somewhat correct. If I were ever to speak with my mother, she would surely berate me a lot. If she's anything like Dad described her, that is."

Daphne stepped forward, wrapping her arms around Rigel in a comforting hug. "We shouldn't linger on it. We're doing what we're doing to create a better world. Sacrifices have to be made, and it will be worth it in the end."

Rigel smiled, holding Daphne close. "You're right. It will be worth it." With that reassurance, the two of them retired for the night, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

~~~o~~~

The next few days passed without too much happening. NEWT classes began to pick up pace, demanding more from the students than ever before. Harry found himself remembering his fifth year, when Rigel was in his seventh. His brother had never seemed stressed or bothered by classes and had passed his NEWTs with flying colours. Harry, on the other hand, felt a bit overwhelmed by how much was suddenly asked of him—both inside and outside of class.

One thing that amused Harry during these days was the constant mistake many people, including some professors, made by calling Daphne "Miss Greengrass" instead of "Mrs. Black." He noticed that Daphne rarely made a conscious effort to correct them. Harry was certain that it wasn't due to a lack of pride, but probably because being referred to as "Mrs. Black" made her feel older than she was. Being married while still in school must be odd, Harry thought, and he certainly didn't envy her for that.

During those days, Neville received a rather pointed answer from his grandmother regarding his inquiry into the story of the three brothers. Her response was sharp, berating Neville and telling him that he was too old for fables and should invest his time more into his NEWTs. Neville had shown the letter to Harry, who had tried to console his friend, but it was clear that the rebuke had stung.

Harry also reached out to Sirius and Remus, hoping they might have some insight into the story of the three brothers. Unfortunately, both of them said they didn't know anything beyond the fable itself. Sirius had even joked about how much easier things would be if magical objects that powerful were real and easy to find.

Meanwhile, Rigel received word from Tonks. She reported that the Dark Lord was currently not at Malfoy Manor, his whereabouts unknown. She asked if she should enter the place, transformed into Snape, to snoop around. Rigel quickly told her not to take that risk and to continue surveying the Manor in a safe way. The uncertainty of Voldemort's location added to the tension that hung over their plans.

The twins, Fred and George, were also hard at work. They were coming up with various magical items designed to create distractions, hopefully long enough to separate Nagini and Voldemort. Yet, with how closely Voldemort kept Nagini, it seemed more and more likely that the only way to take her out would be to face Voldemort simultaneously—a risky move that would certainly cost many lives.

As the days progressed, Harry felt the weight of their mission pressing down on him. The balance between maintaining his studies and preparing for the impending battle was delicate and exhausting. Each class was a reminder of the skills he needed to master, and each quiet moment was a chance to strategize with his friends. The knowledge of what lay ahead kept him focused, even as the mundane rhythms of school life continued around them.

The group reconvened in Daphne and Rigel's suite, the atmosphere thick with tension and anticipation. Hermione, her brow furrowed in frustration, paced back and forth.

"I've combed through the library," she began, her voice tinged with exasperation. "I've searched for any information on the story of the three brothers, and—nothing. I found nothing of worth."

Daphne grew thoughtful, tapping her chin. "I might have an idea of whom to ask," she said after a moment.

Harry, eager to learn more, leaned forward. "Who are you thinking of?"

Daphne looked around the group, her eyes settling on each of them. "We need to ask someone really old, who preferably knows a lot about history. Does no one come to mind?"

Hermione's face lit up with excitement. "Professor Binns!"

Tracey groaned, rolling her eyes. "Are you serious? That ghost has done nothing but talk about goblin revolutions."

Hermione gave Tracey a chastising look. "You need to pay more attention then. Professor Binns has broached a variety of topics."

Harry, though sharing Tracey's sentiment, nodded thoughtfully. "I get where you're coming from, Trace. Professor Binns can be... difficult to follow. But Daphne might be right. No one really knows how long he's been dead. Maybe he was alive when the fable was more popular, or even when it was written?"

Rigel nodded in agreement. "It's worth a shot. Let's go to his office now; perhaps he's still there."

Nodding, the group set out for Professor Binns' office. The corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, the usual hustle of students replaced by an almost eerie stillness. They moved quickly, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

When they reached Professor Binns' office, the door was slightly ajar, a dim light flickering from within. Harry took a deep breath, pushing the door open further.

The group entered Professor Binns' office to find the ghostly professor sorting through some bookshelves. His transparent form moved effortlessly between the shelves, his ethereal fingers passing through the dusty spines of ancient tomes.

Turning to them, Professor Binns greeted them with a small smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure of such esteemed company—both the Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as a fellow colleague?"

Rigel chuckled. "Calling me a fellow colleague is going a bit far."

Professor Binns looked slightly shocked. "Are you not planning to renew your tenure, Mr. Black?"

Rigel shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "I really only took the position to help prepare the youth for the war. And, of course, to be close to my wife and brother while they're still in school." He emphasised his point by leaning over and giving Daphne a kiss.

Harry grimaced playfully. "Please, Rigel, don't give me a kiss as well." This earned a round of chuckles from everyone.

Even Professor Binns laughed, a dry, ghostly sound that surprised all of them. "So, why are you here? I usually don't get any social visits."

Daphne stepped forward. "We recently came across the fable of the three brothers and were wondering if there's some truth to it."

Binns chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Aren't you all a bit old to be reading fables?" He adjusted his ghostly glasses and continued, "Most fables have some elements of truth to them. Take the story of the three brothers, for example. It's widely believed that they were the Peverell brothers, a rather influential family back in the day. The fable was likely created to explain why two of them died young. Antioch was murdered, likely because he was the current heir rather than for possessing a powerful wand. Cadmus killed himself after his fiancée's death, which is understandable for those whose love runs very deep."

Rigel and Daphne shared a quick glance, a silent acknowledgment of their own deep bond and the truth in Binns' words.

"The final brother, Ignotus, lived a normal life," Binns continued. "But the fable probably exaggerated that for a more compelling ending. Some say his descendants still live, though it's hard to tell—documentation wasn't quite the same as it is today."

Harry, leaning forward slightly, asked, "What about Death's gifts? Do they hold any truth?"

Binns chuckled again, a knowing look in his eyes. "I don't think so. Most people accept the fable as an exaggerated tale of the Peverell family, with Death and his gifts added for dramatic flair. However, some believe them to be real and even gave them a name—the Deathly Hallows."

Tracey, her curiosity piqued, asked, "Do these people say anything special about the Deathly Hallows?"

Binns shrugged, his ghostly form rippling. "It's all just rumours and ramblings. Some believe that uniting all three Hallows would make one the master of death. But it's all hearsay. Death doesn't exist, nor do the Deathly Hallows. Why are you so interested in a fable instead of real history?"

Harry gave a nervous chuckle. "We just found the story really fascinating and wanted to learn more about it."

Binns scoffed. "Something truly fascinating is the Goblin Rebellion of 1612." He then began to launch into a detailed and rather boring account of the rebellion.

The group exchanged quick glances, realising they had learned all they could from Binns. "Thank you, Professor," Hermione said hastily. "We have to go now."

They quickly excused themselves, leaving Binns' office rather hastily. As they walked away, the sounds of Binns' droning voice faded into the background.

Once they were out of earshot, Tracey let out a groan. "That was excruciating."

Harry nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "But at least we learned something."

Daphne added, "Yes, we did. And it looks like we might be onto something with the Deathly Hallows."

The group nodded in agreement, each of them lost in thought about what they had just learned.

~~~o~~~

A couple of days later, Harry, Tracey, Daphne, and Rigel received a curious summon—from none other than Professor Snape. The summons was brief and to the point, instructing them to meet in the Potions Classroom after classes. Intrigued and slightly apprehensive, the group made their way there.

As they entered the dimly lit classroom, they found not only Professor Snape but also Sirius, Remus, and Professor McGonagall. The atmosphere was tense, and the air seemed to buzz with anticipation.

Snape, standing near his desk with his arms crossed, greeted them with a curt nod. "I have summoned you here because I recently learned of some interesting information. Given the constraints of school, you will have to do for now as the other Order members are otherwise engaged."

He continued, his dark eyes sweeping over them. "Ever since Dumbledore's death, the Dark Lord has been preparing to make his move—to take over the Ministry. His main obstacle before enacting that plan is Potter."

Harry, taken aback, asked, "Why me?"

Snape's gaze sharpened. "Your continued existence is like a stain for the Dark Lord. He feels that his reign can never be fully accepted while the Boy Who Lived... lives."

The weight of those words settled heavily on Harry, but he remained silent as Snape went on. "The Dark Lord also feels threatened. He has always believed in such things as prophecies. Which brings us to the main reason for this meeting—the Dark Lord has left the Manor in search of an artefact he believes will give him an edge."

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows knitted together in concern. "What is it?"

Snape's voice dropped to a lower, more ominous tone. "He is looking for the Elder Wand—said to be the most powerful wand in existence."

The group exchanged a quick but subtle glance, understanding that Voldemort believed the Deathly Hallows to be real as well.

Sirius let out a chuckle. "He's after something out of a fable? That's good news for us then. Gives us more time to prepare."

Remus nodded in agreement, but his expression was serious. "What about Nagini?"

Snape's lip curled slightly. "The Dark Lord has taken Nagini with him. He has not left the snake out of his sight since shortly before Dumbledore died."

Rigel groaned, frustration evident in his voice. "Nagini is the key to his defeat. Once she is out of the picture, Voldemort will be done."

The others nodded in agreement, the weight of their collective determination filling the room.

Snape then straightened, his demeanour as stern as ever. "That is all I had. I will continue to gather information as much as possible."

With a final round of nods, the group began to disperse, each member lost in their thoughts about the daunting task ahead.

Harry, Tracey, Daphne, and Rigel immediately headed to their suite to inform the others of what they had learned. As soon as they entered, Hermione and Neville looked up expectantly.

"We have news," Harry began, his voice grave. "Snape just told us that Voldemort is searching for the Elder Wand."

Hermione's eyes widened in realisation. "So, he believes in the Deathly Hallows too?"

Daphne nodded. "It seems so. He's taken Nagini with him, which means our chance to strike is gone for now."

Neville frowned, his brows furrowing in thought. "But this gives us more time to prepare, right?"

Rigel agreed, his tone resolute. "Yes, but we must use this time wisely. We need to figure out how to deal with Nagini and Voldemort once he returns."

Tracey's eyes sparkled with determination. "And if we can find out more about the Elder Wand and the other Hallows, maybe we can find a way to use them against him."

Harry nodded at Tracey's suggestion, his mind already racing with the possibilities. "If the Elder Wand is as powerful as they say, it might give us an edge. Wouldn't it be best to go and get it since we know where it is? That would keep it out of Voldemort's hands for sure."

Rigel leaned back in his chair, considering the proposal. "Since we're not 100% certain what would happen if one combines all three Hallows, it might be best to split them up. I'll take care of the Resurrection Stone. The cloak is a family heirloom, and the wand will be needed in your hands to fight Voldemort."

Harry nodded, feeling a sense of relief at the plan. "That might be best. And it would also keep me from the temptation of using the stone."

Rigel looked around the room, his eyes meeting each of theirs. "We can't all leave the castle. That would definitely be noticed. I have free reign to leave, and since Harry is now of age and Lord Potter, he can leave the castle too. Daphne and I will come up with a plausible reason—perhaps a trip to Gringotts to sign off on some investments or something similar involving Harry. Then we can visit Dumbledore's grave and retrieve the Elder Wand."

Harry looked puzzled. "But why do we need to leave Hogwarts? Dumbledore is buried on the grounds."

Rigel nodded, understanding the confusion. "We need an alibi if the grave robbing ever gets discovered. If anyone asks, we'll have a solid reason for being unseen during the time of the crime."

Harry nodded in understanding. "Got it."

Tracey, ever the one to lighten the mood, grinned playfully. "Ooh, grave robbing, my favourite."

The others chuckled at her comment, the tension in the room easing slightly.

Rigel smiled and then turned serious. "For the rest of the evening, we should focus on our studies. I'll inform Harry in the coming days when we'll leave."

Harry nodded in agreement. "Sounds like a plan."

With that, the group settled into their studies, the flickering firelight casting a warm glow over their books and notes. The seriousness of their mission weighed heavily on them, but they knew they had to be prepared for what lay ahead. As they delved into their coursework, their determination solidified, each of them ready to face the challenges that awaited.

~~~o~~~

Just as Rigel had promised, a few days later he, Daphne, and Harry were leaving Hogwarts. Rigel had told Sirius that he had found a sweet investment deal overseas, which would bring the MystiLens and MystiFrame to more magical communities. He wanted Harry to become a shareholder in the deal to emphasise the close alliance between House Black and House Potter.

What surprised Harry the most, though, was that this wasn't even a lie. Rigel really did find such an opportunity.

Once they were at Gringotts, waiting for the Goblins to prepare the necessary papers, Rigel turned to Harry with a teasing smile. "You know, if you were engaged to Tracey, she could come along as well."

Harry blushed furiously. "I get the message. Though I'd really love to, you know, end this war first."

Both Rigel and Daphne chuckled, nodding in agreement. Daphne added, "He's right, of course. But don't forget about Tracey, Harry. If you break her heart, I'll have to break something of yours, despite basically being your sister-in-law."

Harry nodded earnestly. "I'm not planning to."

Just then, a Goblin appeared, handing both Harry and Rigel a document to sign. They did so quickly, and with that, the deal was sealed.

Now it was time for lunch, and Rigel had told Sirius that they would eat in Diagon Alley. However, their real destination was Dumbledore's grave.

Returning to Hogwarts, Rigel and Daphne transformed into their cat Animagus forms while Harry got out the Invisibility Cloak. With the three of them now being adults, the cloak wasn't big enough for them all anymore, hence the cat forms. Dumbledore was buried close to the Black Lake—the first Headmaster ever laid to rest at Hogwarts.

Once they reached his resting place, a white tomb made of marble, they found to their annoyance that an Auror patrol was close by, constantly patrolling the grounds.

Suddenly, Rigel darted out from under the cloak, heading towards the Aurors. Daphne transformed back, joining Harry under the cloak.

"Rigel's going to distract the Aurors and lure them away," Daphne whispered. "Once he does, we have to move swiftly and retrieve the wand."

Harry nodded, watching as the two Aurors noticed Rigel. They watched him curiously. Suddenly, a loud crack echoed from the forest. One Auror moved to check it out while Rigel disappeared in the meantime. Then a loud growl could be heard, catching the attention of the other Auror, who went to check on his colleague.

"Now's our window," Daphne said urgently.

Harry and Daphne quickly approached the tomb, but they found no way to open it. Panicked, Harry asked, "What do we do now?"

"Blast it open—just enough to retrieve the wand," Daphne instructed.

Harry was about to object when Daphne cut him off. "Do it now! Rigel says the Aurors are on their way back."

With no time to argue, Harry quickly cast a blasting spell, creating a sizable hole in the tomb. He reached in and retrieved the Elder Wand from Dumbledore's cold hands, a morbid feeling washing over him. Yet as he grabbed the wand, he could feel its power—it felt right, like it belonged in his hand.

Once he had the wand, Daphne cast a silent Reparo spell, the marble debris returning to its original place, leaving no sign of damage.

"Get under the cloak, now," she hissed.

As soon as they were under the cloak, Rigel in his cat form joined them. The Aurors could be seen approaching in the distance, but the trio were already on their way back.

Harry admired the wand as they hurried back. This was certainly a powerful weapon—one that would hopefully bring Voldemort down. The tension from the operation gradually eased as they made their way back to safety, each step bringing them closer to the hope of ending the war.