Harry and Amelia Potter

7.20

The four of us stare at the symbol. "Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione asks, then she looks to Harry, Ron, and I. "That was the name on the grave with the mark on it in Godric's Hollow. Ignotus Peverell."

"Ignotus and his brothers Cadmus and Antioch are thought to be the original owners of the Hallows and therefore the inspiration for the story." Lovegood's focus abruptly wavers, sadness in his eyes, then he blinks, eyes the tea kettle. "Ah, but your tea's grown cold. Excuse me, I'll be right back."

"Let's get out of here once he's back. I'm not touching this stuff, hot or cold." Ron mutters as the man exits.

"Which one would you choose if you could? Of the Deathly Hallows?" Harry asks, lost in though.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" I ask.

Then all four of us speak at once. My brother and I say, "The Stone." Hermione says, "The Cloak." And Ron says, "The wand."

We all glance at each other, amused.

"You're supposed to say the Cloak, but who wants to spend all day being invisible. Dead boring if you ask me. But an unbeatable wand!" Ron states.

"Its owner grew drunk with power and was murdered." Hermione raises her brow.

"Yeah, but imagine what a short wicked life you'd lead." He grins.

She rolls her eyes. "Why the Stone, Harry and Mia?"

"Well, you could bring people back, couldn't you? Mad-Eye. Dumbledore. Sirius. Anybody." I say, looking out the window.

"But according to the story they don't want to come back. It's all rubbish anyway. There's no such thing as the Deathly Hallows." Hermione says gently.

"But we have one. The Invisibility Cloak our father left us." Harry tells her.

"There have always been Cloaks-" Hermione begins to explain. Ron then cuts her off.

"Not like Harry and Mia's. I've seen a fair few. Dad used to bring home the ones the Ministry confiscated from petty thieves and the like. They always got holes or tears. Their's is different. It's perfect."

"And I think we've actually held the Resurrection Stone in our hands, that night in Dumbledore's office when he showed us the ring he'd destroyed, the Horcrux. It had a symbol on it. Now I think it was the mark of the Hallows." I inform them. Then we stand silently when Lovegood returns.

"Mr. Lovegood. Thank you, sir." Hermione tried to act kind.

"You forgot the water." Ron tells him.

"The water?" He looks deep in thought.

"For the tea." Ron replies.

"Did, didn't I? How silly of me." He chuckles, then his face returns to a blank expression.

"No matter, sir. We really ought to go." I tell him with a smile. The four of us make our way to the door.

"No!" He gets in our way.

"Sir?" Hermione questions him.

"You're my only hope." He looks up with grief. "They were angry, you see, about what I'd been writing, so they took her. They took my Luna..." His eyes finding Harry and I. "But it's really you two they want..."

"Who took her, sir?" Harry asks.

I eye the printing press. A copy of the Quibbler lies stuck under a roller. I reach out, pulling it free, the ink streaming over the cover, over mine and Harry's faces and the blazing headline: "Undesirables Number 1."

"Him. Surely you call him You-Know- Who. But his real name of course is..." He pauses for a moment. We eye him cautiously. "Voldemort."

"No!" We shout.

Instantly, out the window, figures on broomsticks appear in the sky, jetting directly toward the house. As Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I hit the floor, ropes of light ricochet off the windowsill. The printing press explodes, raining Quibblers everywhere, like a flock of doves, smoking with flames. Lovegood waves madly from the window.

"Stop! I've got them-" Lovegood is blasted off his feet by a Stunning Spell so great the chain around his neck flies across the room and settles at Harry's feet. Harry and I glance down, watching the symbol of the Deathly Hallows dissolve like mercury, then look up, seeing Lovegood streak out the door.

"Mia! Ron! Harry! Take my hand!"

Harry, Ron, and I begin to crawl on our knees toward Hermione when another volley of spells ricochet about the room and strike the Gurdyroot teapot. As Hermione watches, it flies into the air, tumbling end over end toward the Erumpent Horn. Harry and I's hands close on hers, Ron reaches out and the teapot strikes the Erumpent Horn.

There is a colossal explosion. The second floor of the black cylinder ruptures. Quibblers belch into the air like confetti as Lovegood narrowly escapes and the Death Eaters are engulfed and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I tumble. Rolling to our feet, barely visible in the darkness.

"That treacherous old bleeder! Is there no one we can trust!" Ron exclaims.

"They've kidnapped Luna because he supported us." I look to Harry and then back to Ron. "He was just desperate."

Ron says nothing, then spits, clearing the grit from his teeth and peers toward the river. Unlike the raging force it was the last time we were here, it is little more than a trickle now. The trees are eerily quiet.

"I'll do the enchantments." Ron takes out his wand when Hermione raises her hand, stopping him. Her eyes rise. Her breath catches. Ron, Harry, and I look. Clinging to the branches of the trees above, almost as if a part of the trees themselves, are Snatchers.

A wand blooms above, illuminates the face of Scabior. Hermione's red scarf, now faded and filthy, dangles from his neck. He presses it to his grimy nose, inhales and grins.

"Hello, beautiful"