At the Shores of the Grey Havens

During the first age, he was known as the Lord of the Falathrim. The People of the Foaming Shore. They were the Elves that lived on the coasts of Western Beleriand, and became the first mariners and shipwrights of Middle-earth until they were invaded by the Orcs. Círdan the Shipwright, born as Nowë, was considered to be the wisest and most foresighted of the Elves, and one of the oldest to still roam in Middle-earth, acting out his duty as Master of the Grey Havens.

Long before they had set foot ashore, Círdan had seen the strange ship sailing towards the havens when it was far beyond the horizon. A change could be felt in the salty wind blowing in from the Great Sea, and he knew that with the return of the Ithryn Luin, that the wind would soon turn into a storm. Concern lay on his mind, for he knew that the Blue Wizards had once been banished from these lands by Aulë – and the consequences of their unsanctioned return were unknown to him.

'Is it truly Soron Rá's hat I see upon your head, my dear Alatar,' Círdan called out, 'or do my eyes deceive me?'

The black sails of Durmstrang's ship lowered itself as it docked in the bay. Over the edge, Alatar and Pallando could see Círdan awaiting them with a grand smile on his face. 'My dear friend Círdan,' said Alatar in response. 'If your eyes are deceiving you, then old age is finally catching up with you.'

Alatar let Pallando walk the plank first, and as soon as Pallando had set his first step ashore he slumped down to his knees and looked up at the sky. 'This is home,' he said with tears in his eyes. 'My heart can finally be at peace.'

'And yet there is very little peace to be found in these lands I fear,' said Círdan to him, and extended his hand to help him up. 'It is written on your face that you have endured much hardships and struggles.'

'Forgive me, Círdan,' said Pallando as he stood up, and placed his hands upon his shoulders. 'It is with Alatar you must speak, for I have to make my way to the head of our Order – and I feel I have no time to lose. Tell me, does he still reside in Isengard?'

'He never left,' said Círdan. 'I will let the two of you share your goodbyes, for it is unheard of that the Blue Wizards have chosen to go their separate ways.'

'Many times we have,' said Pallando, 'and yet we always return back to each other – as is our fate. My dear Alatar, please come to me.'

Alatar had been looking around him in silence. He could hear the silver bells from the towers ringing softly in the wind, and the Stars of Varda were appearing one by one as the Sun was starting to set. The comfort of their return felt as though he was wrapped up in a warm blanket by an open fire. A peaceful state of mind. 'It is time, Pallando,' he said with a heavy heart. 'But as it is fated, and as you said, we shall always return to one another.' He cupped Pallando's face into his hands and placed a kiss upon his brow. 'I know that you must go, my dearest. Love cannot tame the heart. It can only mend it.'

'Farewell, my dearest,' said Pallando in return, and wiped a stray tear from Alatar's cheek with his thumb. 'Until we meet again.'

Alatar and Círdan watched Pallando set his mind to the East, and followed him with their eyes as he went up the many steps that led away from the harbour and into the city. By the falling of the twilight, he was gone. 'Until we meet again,' Alatar whispered into the air, and turned his gaze towards Círdan. 'You must wonder where Kémya is,' he said to him.

'Kémya has returned to Middle-earth,' said Círdan. 'I know so because I've spoken with Goldberry. She also spoke of the young man that held it, and the last thing I knew was that she send him on his way Eastwards to continue his search for the friend that he lost.'

'No sign of the young woman then?' asked Alatar. 'His friend is very dear to him.'

'No news has reached my ears thus far,' said Círdan. 'However, to not have received news means no ill fate has befallen an outlander here. His friend may still be out there – but I cannot tell you where.'

'She's a resilient young woman,' said Alatar. 'I have no doubt in my mind that she can adapt and overcome the hardships of this place. I wish to see her safe and sound, but I must turn to find Severus first. I will journey through Bree, and if he is not there, then I will continue my journey to Rivendell regardless. I'm hoping to find some council from Lord Elrond – and if fortune is with me, from my old friend Gandalf also.'

'Before you leave,' said Círdan with a hint of concern. 'What will be of Aulë once he finds that the Blue Wizards have returned?'

'I have no intention of staying,' said Alatar. 'We are mortals in the place where Aulë sent us, and it has given me joy and purpose in a way that my life here has not been able to provide. Someday I will learn what fate befalls all Men – and I will not fear it when it comes. I am here, Círdan, to bring home my two students. There is turmoil and danger unfolding in their world, and their disappearance was the drop in the water that will cause the ripples to turn into waves. If Aulë comes to me, then I shall have my words ready for him.'

'All is written,' said Círdan. 'It is clear to me that you must go and follow the path you've chosen. Your ship is in capable hands. Namárië, my dear friend. Until we meet again.'

'Namárië,' said Alatar as he turned around one last time to look at the ship. Durmstrang's ship was the last thing that tied him back to the Land of the Wizards. The place that he had grown to love as Albus Dumbledore. A name he wished would one day to be carved into his tombstone. With Godric Gryffindor's hat firmly placed upon his head, he left the Grey Havens and into the dark of night.'

...o0o…

The news that Durmstrang's ship had been stolen had reached the Daily Prophet, and thus every student at Hogwarts was talking about it as soon as the owls had dropped off their papers. One theory sprung up after another. By the end of the day the theories of it having been an innocent student's prank gone out of hand, had grown into epic tales of vampires planning on conquering the seven seas. James considered it a good thing that no-one was taking it serious. Most people simply didn't care enough to know just how special that ship truly was, and it was a comforting thought that no connections were being made with Dumbledore's absence either.

To the growing concern of his friends, James had been locking himself up in the school's library in search of any information on You-Know-Who's ancestry. With great disdain he had opened a copy of The Pure-blood Directory he had found in the Forbidden Section, and read up all there was to know about the House of Gaunt. Despite being a House related to Salazar Slytherin and Cadmus Peverell, there was surprisingly little information about the family to be found. James had gone to Remus for help, who pointed out to him that a lot of information may have been erased due to implied impurities within the family's history. There was a brief mention about Isolt Sayre, who's mother was a Gaunt, and who founded the Illvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the new world. James remembered learning more about Isolt in A History of Magic lesson, had he actually been bothered to pay attention. The mention of Little Hangleton in county York was also mentioned several times, and he had grabbed a map of the United Kingdom from the Muggle Studies lessons to try and find it. After a while, he found a small dot labelled "L. Hangleton" right next to a larger dot named "Great Hangleton" in North Yorkshire. Had it been a fully magical town, it would not have shown up on a Muggle's map, thus implying that the Gaunts lived among Muggles.

James left the library more confused than informed. In the Gryffindor common room, he had asked his friends to think along with him, wondering where he could possibly even begin. 'It's as if You-Know-Who's never existed before,' he said. 'It's as if there's ancestry, but without any beginning.'

'Of course he has,' said Sirius. 'D'you think his the name he uses was once his real name? It's no secret that he was a student at this school several decades ago, and they certainly didn't call him Vold – well, you know what back then. There's got to be records somewhere. Records that you may not find in the library.'

'You mean like the records Filch has filed on us?' asked Peter.

'Something like that,' said Sirius. 'However, there's centuries of records filed and stored away. It could take ages to sort through all of that – and then not to mention that we don't even know his name yet.'

'But there are some who do,' said Remus. 'I'm positive there are some teachers here who have been around long enough to have known him as a student.'

'You mean like professor McGonagall?' said James. 'She trusts me, but I don't think I could persuade her to give me this type of information. The last thing she would want is a student trying to go after him. Especially now that she knows about the Cloak.'

'I'm actually thinking about someone who may have been a lot closer to him,' said Remus grimly. 'Professor Slughorn. We know You-Know-Who was a Slytherin. Being a literal descendant doesn't leave much room for other options, and Slughorn's been around long enough that he may very well have been his Head of House. If anyone knows more, it's got to be him.'

'Slughorn's not easily persuaded though,' said Peter. 'Just because some of you made it into his little Slugclub, doesn't mean he will start whispering every little secret he has into your ear. Having had You-Know-Who as a student may bring back some terrible memories. My best bet is that you're going to need a very powerful truth-telling serum if you want to pry some information out of him.'

'How about you start brewing one then?' said James sardonically. He could sense that Peter was right, and it bothered him. Slughorn, despite being brutally honest in his favouritism, was not an easy man. He was a great source of information, and yet nothing that came out of his mouth was ever personal.

'How about you just steal one from his bloody supply closet,' Peter sneered back. 'I'm just trying to help. Now, if you'll excuse me, I may not be good enough for the Slugclub, but at least I'm good enough at Transfiguration to help a bunch of younger students out. I'm off.'

'I'm sorry, Wormtail,' said James. 'It's just – things have been weird for me these days.'

'Yeah yeah I get it, Prongs,' said Peter as he waved it off, and made his way to the Fat Lady's portrait.

'Tell my idiot little brother I said hello,' Sirius called out to Peter. 'Oh, and tell him I will tell on mummy if he doesn't pass the next Transfiguration test with an Outstanding.'

'I'm not your owl, Padfoot,' Peter answered with a frown. 'And clearly, talent seems to be hereditary as you're both dreadful at it. Cheers!'

'He got you there,' Remus laughed as Peter shut the portrait behind him. 'Now, who's up for a game of Wizard's Chess?'

...o0o…

'Where are you going, Tobias?' asked Eileen. Tobias had a nervous energy to him over the past few days, and finally an answer as to why was coming out. He was wearing his finest travelling clothes, a scarf neatly tucked into his jacket, and laced up boots as though he was ready for a long march. On his back he carried a leather backpack, and he had filled it up halfway with sandwiches and a bottle of water.

'Wiltshire,' growled Tobias. 'Remember how Severus spent his past two Christmases with those minted folks in secret? I can't help but shake the feeling that there's more to this story. I intend to go and pay them a visit.'

Eileen wanted to warn him on the power these people held. Not just in magic, but also politically. It was a world she had shielded him from for many years, and yet she knew him well enough she could not convince him to stay away from. These were not people that could be spoken to with a stern word and a mild beating, and she feared he was bound to get into more trouble than he was bargaining for. 'How do you intend on finding them?' she asked. 'It's not as if Severus has specified who and where exactly.'

'He never spoke of any names,' said Tobias, 'but he did mention a large manor and something about liking the albino peacocks in their garden because their feathers were supposedly good for something. Albino peacocks, Eileen! Fancy Wiltshire may be covered in manors, estates and small castles, but I doubt many have peacocks roaming in their gardens; let alone rare white ones. Once I get there, all I need to do is ask around for the bloody peacocks, and it won't take very long to find it.'

'And once you get there?' asked Eileen. 'Then what will you do?'

'I'll know once I get there,' said Tobias. 'Now please, move out of the way. Either I can sit here and continue to wallow in self-pity like you are, or I can go out and find out about what happened to our missing son.'

Eileen bit her tongue to make sure she would not anger him by defending herself. She knew she wasn't wallowing in self-pity. She was dealing with the loss of their son and his friend in her own way, and that was all there was to it. 'Good luck out there,' she said. 'You're going to need it.'

As Tobias left through the door, on the other side of the city Petunia had taken a seat at her writing desk. She looked up at the framed poster on the wall. It was an image of the Purple Petunias by Georgia O'Keeffe, painted in nineteen twenty-five. She was named after it, just as how Lily was named after Claude Monet's water lilies. Petunia owed her name to her mother's love of O'Keeffe's work, but she was still trying to figure out what her mother had seen in it. The petals on the canvas were larger than life, and its purple shades stood out and dominated the wall the frame hung on. She had read up about what Petunia's meant symbolically. Desire, hope and calmness were among those symbols, but she had quickly closed the book again once she read about their connection to anger and resentment. Things she did not want to be associated with, she had thought, but deep inside had to admit to herself that she did harbour a lot of those feelings. She had been jealous, and resented Lily for so long for being Magical, and now she would give anything for her sister to be back.

And Petunia was angry. Angry that her parents seem to give up so soon on her sister's disappearance. Angry that her letter to Dumbledore had been answered with a rejection into Hogwarts. Angry that Lily had teased her about it when she found the letter, and angry that Severus got to read it too. She had decided then and there that she never wanted to have anything to do with Magic ever again. But with Lily's disappearance, it became clear that Magic was just as much a part of her life as it was in her sister's. What happened in her sister's world would affect everything in her own – and visa versa. Mentally she had to peel off layers and layers of resentment, grabbed on to a fountain pen and a piece of parchment she found lingering in her sister's room, and began to write;

Dear Mary and Alice,

My name is Petunia Evans.
You must have heard of me, although we've never met.
Lily, my sister, has told me a great many stories about you and of all your adventures at Hogwarts.
As you may understand, I am still very much grieving the disappearance of my sister. I am having a hard time putting the pieces of the puzzle together, in a manner of speaking. I only know of the Great Lake by your school in tale, and I wish to come and see it for myself. In a way I suppose I am desperately seeking for closure.
I am aware that I am asking a great deal from you here, since being a Muggle, and the castle thus appearing as a ruin for me as I've been told, don't make the situation any easier.
I am hoping for your cooperation.

With kind regards,

Petunia Evans

She folded the parchment and shoved it into an envelope. For the address she wrote;

Alice and Mary
Godric Gryffindor's Tower
Hogwarts Castle, Scotland

She didn't quite understand how it worked, but when she had written to Dumbledore the letter had also found its way into his hands. She made her way downstairs and headed out for the post office. Unsure how many stamps it would require, she covered the letter with as many stamps as she could with the money she had, and placed it in the mailbox.

Petunia understood she needed to be patient, and with the letter dropping down into the mailbox she felt that a small bit of the heavy burden on her shoulders was lifted. She was going to try to get into Hogwarts one last time. And this time, it was to find her sister – and to bring her back home.

...o0o…

Tobias was chugging along the streets of county Wiltshire in his rusty old Mini Cooper. It had been a long drive from the midlands to Wiltshire, and he had taken a break at a pub in picturesque Malmesbury. He was asking around if anyone had seen any albino peacocks in someone's garden lately, but the more he spoke, the more he realised he was sounding like a madman trying to get his hands on some exotic specimen. He washed away the disappointment with a few pints, and went back on the road again. He continued on further down South, remembering what Severus had said about studying whatever it was at Stonehenge. He was convinced it had been a lie from his son's mouth, but perhaps it was also a clue in what surroundings he had been residing in.

'Peacocks,' Tobias scoffed. 'Blitherin' bloody peacocks.' Thinking about peacocks brought him back to a story his mother had once told him, which was a story she was told when she was still a little girl living in India. Peacocks and peahens had roamed in the gardens of her parents' house. On a flowerbed of Jasmine and Marigold stood a small statue of Lord Krishna, the incarnation of Vishnu. His head was adorned with the feathers of a blue peacock. The story his mother was told, was of Lord Krishna feeling a strong desire to dance, and he had taken his flute into the forest. He played his music so melodious that the peacocks were enamoured and began to dance along with him. Lord Krishna and the peacocks danced for days until they finally grew tired and weary. The peacocks were so full of happiness and gratitude, that the King of Peacocks went up to Lord Krishna and gave him his most prized possession – his feathers. It was then that Lord Krishna would always be depicted wearing the peacock's feathers in his hair.

His mother had loved peacocks in all their colours and glory. She frequently weaved them into the Madhubani paintings she made that adorned the walls of their home, and he remembered saying to her as a little boy how much he loved having the most colourful house in the whole of England. The statement may have been an exaggeration, but it was how he had felt nonetheless. He could start to smell the memory of his mother's home-made thadia saagak teeman, and by the growling of his stomach he realised it was about dinnertime. He had made it all the way down to Winterbourne Stoke. There wasn't much to the place. The River Till ran through it. There was a gas station with a single pump, and there was a large manor that appeared to have been remodelled into a wedding venue. He was ready to stumble into another pub for a few more drinks and call it a night, when suddenly he noticed two women wearing dark green dresses and large purple overcoats coming around the church. He had seen Eileen do something similar before. The colours were rarely worn by commoners, or Muggles as she liked to say. It was how they revealed to other magical people what they were out in public, and he knew that that's what was happening here too.

'Excuse me, young ladies,' Tobias called out after he rolled down the window. 'D'you mind if I ask you something?'

'Stonehenge is that way, sir,' said one of the ladies as she pointed towards the road to the East. 'It's about a four minute drive – or a forty-five minute walk I'd say.'

'And how long would it take me on a broomstick?' asked Tobias. 'I'm actually not looking for Stonehenge. I'm looking for a large manor that has albino peacocks roaming in its garden. Any chance you've seen it?'

'By broom it would take less than a minute,' said the other woman, amused. 'T'is Malfoy manor you're looking for, I presume? I know Lucius' wife, Narcissa. Just pass Stonehenge and follow the River Avon up North. Eventually you'll find it on your left-hand side. Can't really miss it. It's enormous!'

'Thanks for the help,' Tobias answered with a polite nod. 'And, do me a favour. It's a surprise that I'm coming. So don't tell on me, alright?'

'As you wish,' she replied. 'Goodnight to you, sir.'

'Goodnight ladies,' said Tobias as he rolled his window back up. He sped off towards Stonehenge and passed it to follow the River Avon. From there, he kept looking out the window in search of a manor. He saw a few large houses along the way, but none that he would deem good or big enough for this supposed "Malfoy" that lived there.

And then he found it. A large wrought-iron gate prevented Tobias from entering the estate. The gravel driveway behind it was wide, and a large hedge curved alongside it. Having spend years being surrounded by magic, he knew by his gut feeling that magic was at play here. Something dark and sinister lingered, and the sound of a high-pitched cawing caught him off guard. Behind the gate, a pure-white peacock strutted from left to right, as though acting as a guard. The creature almost seemed to give light in the dark, and he thought back to his mother again and how much he would have wanted her to see this. She would have found a deeper meaning behind crossing paths with it, but all Tobias could see was a bird ready to alarm its owners.

'Please state your purpose,' said a cold voice. Tobias jumped back a bit when he realised it was the gate that was speaking to him. The iron beams had contorted itself into an angry face. Its mouth crackling as it spoke.

'Just out for a walk,' answered Tobias stiffly. 'Now if you'll excuse me. I better get going.'

'Hurry along,' said the gate.

As soon as Tobias stepped out of view, the gate contorted itself back in its original state. 'Bloody magic,' he spat. It had been quite a few years, but there was a time where he could sneak into buildings undetected and make it out again as though he had never entered. Years of being in the military had done that for him. Hiding in buildings with his rifle aimed at targets. Listening in on secret conversations, or stealing intel. He's done it all by now. He walked around the gate until he reached the Eastside of the estate. From there, all he needed to do was to stay in the shadows and tiptoe his way through the hedge. If there's one thing these blithering Wizards didn't understand, it would be using absolute common sense. Through all the protective layers that their spells could put on the things they held dear, they'd often forget it could easily be broken with the use of a closed fist. He carefully wrapped up his hand in his scarf, and swiftly punched a hole through the small window that led to a kitchen. The sound of the falling shards faded into nothing. From the inside he twisted the lock and slithered his way in.

Tobias might as well have made his way inside Buckingham Palace. Even something as simple as a kitchen looked as though it was carved from marble by the ancient Greeks. There were paintings everywhere, and many looked as though they belonged at the right-hand side of the Mona Lisa at the Louvre. This was old money. Ancient money, even. He wanted to keep looking around. Perhaps he could find a few unobtrusive trinkets he could take home and sell, was it not for an unexpected cackling sound that came low from the ground, as though something had appeared out of nowhere. He hid in the shadows, and listened.

'Kreacher must speak with the mistress right away!' said a weak voice to itself. 'Mistress Black, where are you?' Tobias saw that the creature resembled something of an ugly potato with large pointy ears and a hooked nose. The thing wasn't much taller than a small child, and it wore something that looked like a worn and torn pillowcase. He waited until the creature had made its way out of the kitchen, and then he followed it at a safe distance until it stopped down the hallway.

'Mistress Black? Oh, there you are! How delighted I am to see you again!' the thing said as it jumped up and down from happiness.

'Did all go according to plan, Kreacher?' said a shrill woman's voice from around the corner. She did not care for the strange creature's enthusiasm in the slightest.

'Slytherin's Locket's hidden deep in a cave at cliffs of Dover, mistress, as ordered by the Lord,' said the creature with a bow. 'Your son Regulus and his rat friend are smart to have thought of it so. The Dark Lord put me through many tests – and it was very gruelling...but it don't matter mistress. Anything for you, my mistress. It is the other news that may be more of interest to you. I did go down to Nurmengard, and it is indeed as you had expected. Grindelwald has gone, mistress.'

Tobias could feel his heart skipping a beat, and he could feel a cold shiver running down his spine. Grindelwald. A name that has hunted him for years was spoken out loud for the first time by someone other than himself.

'It is as I feared,' said the woman. 'Come, follow me. We must inform the Dark Lord straight away.'

A door closed and the woman and the strange creature disappeared. Tobias felt himself growing weak in the knees. Grindelwald had hunted his dreams ever since he had led his men into an ambush. He had followed the wise man to the very edges of the continent, in search of an unobtainable thing. He had to find something for him. Something that Grindelwald believed lay hidden in the war riddled trenches in France, and in exchange he would give him all the fame and glory he could ever want if he found it. But he never did find the chalice. The Fountain of Youth. The Holy Grail. Or whatever other names it had gone by over the centuries. Grindelwald had wanted it to gain back his eternal life – whatever that meant to him. But it all fell to shambles when he found out Grindelwald was not visible to anyone else. Erwin Evans, especially, had made it abundantly clear that Grindelwald was nothing more than a figment of his imagination. A hallucination that had led to his men getting blown up in his trail. All but Evans, who did not hesitate to remind him of his terrible mistake. And now, in an overheard exchange between a Witch and her bootlicking pet, he learnt that his mind had not dwindled down into madness that day. It had been very real – and he had been used against his will. Magic had been involved. Dark, disgusting magic!

Tobias released the tension in his fists, and reminded himself why he had come here in the first place. Severus had been here. Of that he was certain. He walked down the hallway and passed the door the Witch and her creature had disappeared through. The place was so immense he wasn't quite sure where to start. He made his way up a spiralling staircase that led to another long hallway. There were faint whispers in many of the rooms he passed, and he realised that there were loads of people currently residing in the house. All bowing to the will of this supposed Lord, Tobias thought to himself. How pitiful. Near the end was a door that was ajar, and flickering candlelight shone through it. The room appeared to be attached to a rounded balcony. Carefully he peaked through the door, and saw two shadows speaking to each other through the sheer curtain. They appeared to be in a heated argument, and so he swifty made his way inside and looked around. There was a pile of books on top of the night-stand. The top one read "Asiatic Anti-Venoms" by Libatius Borage. On the cover was an image of a cauldron with green steam rising from it. Severus would like this, he thought, and grabbed the whole pile of books and shoved it under his arm.

'Walburga's House-elf should be back by now,' said the woman from behind the curtain. 'We should go and look for her. See what the Dark Lord has to say if the situation is as we feared.'

'Do not worry too much, my dear Narcissa,' said the man as he placed a kiss on top of her head. 'Many things are going according to plan.'

This Lord was here somewhere. Important things were unfolding, and Tobias understood it was time to leave. If they found him, especially now with the negative connotation it had that Grindelwald had disappeared from whatever place he had been residing in, their wands would surely turn on him in an instant. These people were not friendly towards Muggles like him. That Petunia girl had made it very clear on the day they had visited the Evans' family. What Severus had been hoping to find here, however, had only let to more questions than answers.

Soundlessly Tobias left the room and walked the same way back he had come from. He made his way down the stairs and back to the kitchen. The window he had broken appeared to have repaired itself, and he smirked at the thought that any evidence of his presence had been magically wiped away. By the hedge he had come in stood the albino peacock that he had seen in front of the talking gate. 'Be off!' he scoffed at the peacock. 'There's no need for you to start alarming anyone here with your shrilly cat call!'

The peacock looked at him, as though thinking hard on what to do. After a moment he rustled his feathers, and shook one off that fluttered to the ground. He then turned and marched off, as though pretending he had never seen Tobias standing there. Tobias picked the feather up from the ground. The white feather looked even more beautiful in the light of the waxing moon. Perhaps Severus had been on to something here, whatever it was. He turned around to look at the manor one last time. A fireplace was lightening up what appeared to be a living room area. Many shadows were gathering inside of it, as though a meeting was about to start. Not wanting to deal with it any further, he pushed his way through the hedge and walked back up to his car. With the closing of the car's door, he felt the tension that has rose up in his body slipping away.

Tobias wasn't even sure why he had taken the books. Surely Asiatic Anti-Venoms would be something Severus would be interested in, but Severus was gone. Disappeared into nothingness, and he wasn't even sure any more if the people in that living room had anything to do with it. He put the peacock feather in the book and tossed it aside. The other book from the pile looked more like a diary. The cover was black and battered – as though it was old and used up. On the front page was a faint inscription that read "T.M. Riddle" but as he continued leafing through it, the rest of the pages appeared empty. Considering it useless, he tossed aside and looked at the final book he had taken. "The Pure-blood Directory" it read. He skimmed over the pages, and it looked more like a family tree than anything else. It spoke of twenty-eight sacred families, of which the names Black and Malfoy appeared to be a part of. The name Prince wasn't mentioned in here, which used to be Eileen's name before she married him.

It was time to go home. As much as he despised the very thought of it, he had to start speaking with Eileen about all this. If the names in the Pure-blood Directory meant anything to her. And about Grindelwald and his disappearance, which is a thought that terrified him most of all.

Deep in thought, Tobias started the car, wandering in the memories of all he had heard and seen.

A/N Círdan is the Sindarin word for "shipbuilder" or "shipwright", thus making it an earned nickname.
He was given Narya, the Ring of Fire, by Celebrimbor to hold until the Wizards arrived by ship and he surrendered it to Gandalf.
He's also so old that he is one of the very few Elves that can grow a beard. He was one of the very first in Middle-earth, and was one of the very last to leave it.

A/N Why can Elves see so far into the distance?
When Arda was first sang into existence, the world was flat. Because of this, Elves (who already have exquisite vision) were able to see very far into the distance. In the late second age, Eru Ilúvatar pulled a devine punishment on Númenor (The Drowning of Númenor which is envisioned in the Rings of Power series) because they broke the Ban of the Valar. This is so because Ar-Pharazôn (the last King of Númenor) was coerced by Sauron to assault the Undying Lands, which led to the island's destruction.
Eru's punishment did not end with washing away the island in a great wave, but also pulled Arda into a curve, which made it round. This way the land of Aman and the island of Tol Eresseä were removed from the Circles of the Earth forever and could only be reached by Elves sailing West out of Middle-earth following the Straight Road.
It was Men that was punished that day, but not the Elves. The new curvature of the world did not affect their vision, and thus they could continue to see far into the distance, beyond the new curvature of Arda.

A/N The fate that befalls all Men that Alatar speaks of, is in reference to the fact that the Men of Arda pass on to a place that only Eru Ilúvatar knows. This is because Tolkien's Catholicism made him hold on to the believe that only God knows what happens to people after they die. Elves can die in battle, but can also grow weary of the world and decide to sail the Straight Road to Valinor (which can now only be reached by Elves when Arda got its curvature). They end up in the Halls of Mandos (one of the Valar) who judges the spirits of all Elves. It is possible for Elves to return re-embodied (which also happened to Glorfindel, which we will touch on a bit more later on). Dwarves also go to the Halls of Mandos, but they never return. They stay there until the End (Dagor Dagorath) and will come out to help Aulë rebuild the world after it's been destroyed.

A/N "Nobody sees a flower, really, it is so small. We haven't time - and to see takes time like to have a friend takes time. If I could paint the flower exactly as I see it no one would see what I see because I would paint it small like the flower is small. So I said to myself - I'll paint what I see - what the flower is to me but I'll paint it big and they will be surprised into taking time to look at it - I will make even busy New Yorkers take time to see what I see of flowers. ...Well, I made you take time to look at what I saw and when you took time to really notice my flower you hung all your own associations with flowers on my flower and you write about my flower as if I think and see what you think and see of the flower - and I don't." - Georgia O'Keeffe.

A/N Madhubani art or Mithila painting is practiced in the Mithila region of India and Nepal. It was traditionally created by the women of different communities of the Mithila region. It is named after Madhubani district of Bihar, India which is where it originated.

A/N "Witches and wizards often reveal themselves to each other in public by wearing purple or green, often in combination."- Rowling, Wizardingworld

A/N We only know of Malfoy Manor being in Wiltshire (true location unknown), but in the movies they used Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire. If you google Hardwick Hall, you can see what kind of enormous estate it really is.

A/N "Harry did not answer at once. He pretended to be perusing a page of Asiatic Anti-Venoms, because he did not want to say what was in his mind." — Harry stalls in answering Hermione's question about him teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Book 5.