Despite my slight tolerance of Ron's presence, Hermione did not share my resilience. Hermione's anger did not abate overnight and therefore unsurprisingly she communicated mainly by dirty looks and pointed silences the next morning. Ron responded by maintaining an unnaturally sombre demeanour in her presence as an outward sign of continuing remorse.
"Someone helped us," Ron kept saying. "Someone sent that doe. Someone's on our side. One Horcrux down, mate!"
I felt as though I remembered this bit of information but the words couldn't form in my mind. But not wanting to be stuck inside with Harry and Ron, I decided to sit out with Hermione as she stayed on watch. Hermione and I were talking about the weird symbol in the storybook, Dumbledore's letter to Grindelwald, and on the tombstone back at Godric's Hollow when I saw a large blue flame out of the corner of my eye. We shared a look and bolted inside.
"What's going on in here?" I shouted, pulling back the tarp door.
"Nothing," both boys said sheepishly.
"We need to talk," Hermione huffed.
Ron sat up straighter and gave a lopsided smile, "all right."
"I want to go to Xenophilius Lovegood," Hermione said to Harry, ignoring Ron.
He stared at her.
"Sorry?"
"Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna's father. I want to go and talk to him!"
"Er— why?"
"Because of the symbol," I spoke up and walked over to the three of them.
Hermione took a deep breath, as though bracing herself, and said, "It's that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!"
She thrust The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore under Harry's unwilling eyes. Harry looked at the signature she had shown me before but did not have the same epiphany I had when I saw it. He looked up at Hermione with his eyes full of confusion.
"The signature," said Hermione. "Look at the signature, Harry!"
"Er— what are you —?" said Ron tentatively, but Hermione quelled him with a look and turned back to Harry. Ron looked up at me but I only gave him a small smile.
"It keeps popping up, doesn't it?" she said. "I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald's mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric's Hollow, and the dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can't ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means— I don't even know whether Grindelwald's still alive— but we can ask Mr Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I'm sure this is important!"
Harry did not answer immediately. After a long pause he said, "Hermione, we don't need another Godric's Hollow. We talked ourselves into going there, and —"
"But it keeps appearing, Harry! Dumbledore left me The Tales of Beedle the Bard, how do you know we're not supposed to find out about the sign?"
"Here we go again!" Harry felt slightly exasperated. "We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues —"
"The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful," piped up Ron. "I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood."
Harry threw him a dark look. I was quite sure that Ron's support of Hermione had little to do with a desire to know the meaning of the triangular rune. Harry gave me a pleading look, but I only shook my head.
"It won't be like Godric's Hollow," I said, "Lovegood's on our side, Harry, The Quibbler's been for you all along. It bet if we look now, they'll be telling everyone they've got to help you!"
"I'm sure this is important!" said Hermione earnestly.
"But don't you think if it was," Harry said indignantly, "Dumbledore would have told us about it before he died?"
"Maybe... maybe it's something you need to find out for yourself," I said carefully.
"Yeah," said Ron sycophantically, "that makes sense."
"No, it doesn't, actually," snapped Hermione, "but I still think we ought to talk to Mr Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow? Harry, I'm sure we ought to know about this!"
"I think we should vote on it," said Ron. "Those in favour of going to see Lovegood —"
His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.
"Outvoted —" Ron started, but Harry cut him off by saying, "Lottie didn't vote!"
"Sorry, Harry, I'm for it," I grimaced at his glower.
"Fine," said Harry, half amused, half irritated. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we?"
Though I was excited to see Luna again, there was a voice in the back of my mind that told me I wouldn't see her. It took a few weeks, but we finally went to find Mr Xenophilius Lovegood. In the distance, a most strange-looking house rose vertically against the sky: A great black cylinder with a ghostly moon hanging behind it in the afternoon sky.
"Luna?" I looked back at the three.
"Luna," they chorused.
"You'd better take off the Invisibility Cloak, Harry," I said as we approached the house. "It's you Mr. Lovegood wants to help, not us."
He did as I suggested, handing Hermione the Cloak to stow in the beaded bag. Barely ten seconds passed from when Harry knocked, then the door was flung open and there stood Xenophilius Lovegood, barefoot and wearing what appeared to be a stained nightshirt.
"Hello, Mr Lovegood," said Harry, holding out his hand. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."
Xenophilius said nothing and just gaped at Harry's hand and looked up to his scar.
"Would it be okay if we came in?" asked Harry. "There's something we'd like to ask you. It won' take long."
"I — oh, all right then. Come in, quickly. Quickly!"
Barely inside, Xenophilius slammed the door behind us. He led us up the spiral stairs that were in the middle of the perfectly circular room. Wordlessly, I followed Hermione who followed Harry up the steps behind Xenophilius to a room with many weird magical items and trinkets.
"So," Xeonophilius said, turned back to us. "What brings you here, Mr Potter?"
"We need some help," said Harry.
"Ah," said Xenophilius. "Help. Hmm."
His good eye moved again to Harry's scar. He seemed simultaneously terrified and mesmerized.
"Yes. The thing is... helping Harry Potter— rather dangerous..."
"Aren't you the one who keeps telling everyone it's their first duty to help Harry?" said Ron. "In that magazine of yours?"
Xenophilius glanced behind him at the concealed printing press, still banging and clattering beneath the tablecloth.
"Er — yes, I have expressed that view. In the past. Would you excuse me one moment? I shall return shortly and, um, try to help you," he said airily, running down the steps.
"What's going on here?" Harry mumbled.
"He's mental. Let's face it," scoffed Ron. "Luna's always good value, but she's nutty as squirrel poo."
"Ron, that's not very —"
Hermione cut me off with a gasp, causing me to turn around and brandish my wand. I narrowed my eyes at her as she pointed to an enormous, grey spiral horn, not unlike that of a unicorn, which had been mounted on the wall, protruding several feet into the room.
"Do you see that?"
"It's sort of massive, of course," I furrowed my brows.
Harry walked towards it only for Hermione to shout at him, "it's an Erumpent horn. It's a Class B Tradeable Material. It's dangerous!"
Ron and Harry shared their usual look causing Hermione to narrow her eyes at them. Just then, Xenophilius came back with a tea tray.
"May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?" said Xenophilius. "We make it ourselves." As he started to pour out the drink, which was as deeply purple as beetroot juice, he added, "Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not to be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plimpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar.
"Now," he removed a tottering pile of papers from an armchair and sat down, his Wellingtoned legs crossed, "how may I help you, Harry Potter?"
"Well," Harry said, glancing at me, nodding encouragingly, "it's about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Mr Lovegood. We wondered what it meant."
Xenophilius raised his eyebrows.
"Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?"
The four of us looked at each other with not even the slightest clue of what Xenophilius Lovegood meant.
"The Deathly Hallows?"
"That's right," said Xenophilius. "You haven't heard of them? I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckleheaded young man at your brother's wedding," he nodded at Ron, "who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows— at least, not in that crude sense."
"But what is it, sir?" I asked.
"The Deathly Hallows? I assume you're all familiar with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers?'"
Harry said, "No," but Ron, Hermione, and I said, "Yes."
Xenophilius nodded gravely.
"Well, well, Mr Potter, the whole thing starts with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'... I have a copy somewhere..."
He glanced vaguely around the room, at the piles of parchment and books, but Hermione said, "I've got a copy, Mr Lovegood, I've got it right here."
And she pulled out The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the small, beaded bag.
"The original?" inquired Xenophilius sharply, and when she nodded, he said, "Well then, why don't you read it aloud? Much the best way to make sure we all understand."
" 'Three brothers were travelling on a road when they came to a dangerous creek. Because they're wizards, they're able to cross the water by magic. However, Death comes along and is totally miffed that they've thwarted him. Death cunningly pretends to be pleased that the brothers escaped his trap, and offers them three gifts.'
" 'The oldest brother asks for the most powerful wand in existence, which will win any duel. Death goes over to a nearby elder tree and makes him one.'
" 'The second brother asks for the power to bring the dead back to life. Death picks up a stone and says that it will have that power.'
" 'Finally, the third brother, who's suspicious of this whole scenario, asks for something that will let him go on without being followed by Death, so Death gives the brother his very own Invisibility Cloak.'
" 'The brothers go their separate ways, each to his own fate. The oldest brother, who received the Elder Wand, boasts unwisely about it and is killed by another wizard, who goes and steals the wand.'
" 'The middle brother uses the stone to bring the girl he once loved back to life – but she's still separated from real life, and is miserable. He kills himself to try and truly join her in death.'
" 'The youngest brother, however, evades Death for many years, until he passes the Cloak on to his son; when Death came to him, he went willingly.'," Hermione finished.
Hermione closed the book. It was a moment or two before Xenophilius seemed to realize that she had stopped reading, then he withdrew his gaze from the window and said, "Well, there you are."
"Sorry?" said Hermione, sounding confused.
"Those are the Deathly Hallows," said Xenophilius.
He picked up a quill from a packed table at his elbow and pulled a torn piece of parchment from between more books.
"The Elder Wand," he said, and he drew a straight vertical line upon the parchment. "The Resurrection Stone," he said, and he added a circle on top of the line. "The Cloak of Invisibility," he finished, enclosing both line and circle in a triangle, to make the symbol that so intrigued Hermione. "Together," he said, "the Deathly Hallows."
"But there's no mention of the words 'Deathly Hallows' in the story," said Hermione.
"Well, of course not," said Xenophilius, maddeningly smug. "That is a children's tale, told to amuse rather than to instruct. Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death."
"But then... do you mean..." said Hermione slowly, and I could tell that she was trying to keep any trace of scepticism out of her voice, "that you believe these objects — these Hallows — actually exist?"
"Of course, they do!" he bellowed.
"But—"
"Hermione, they're real," I said softly.
"The Invisibility Cloak is, but the Ressurection Stone?" Hermione scoffed.
"What of it?"
"Well, how can that be real?"
"Prove that it is not," said Xenophilius.
"And the Peverells?" I said before Hermione could cause trouble.
"Ah, intelligent girl you are!" Xenophilius laughed greatly.
"Who are the Peverells?" asked Ron.
"That was the name on the grave with the mark on it, in Godric's Hollow," gasped Hermione, still watching Xenophilius. "Ignotus Peverell."
"Exactly!" said Xenophilius, his forefinger raised pedantically. "The sign of the Deathly Hallows on Ignotus's grave is conclusive proof!"
"Of what?" asked Ron.
"Why, that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!"
With another glance at the window, he got to his feet, picked up the tray, and headed for the spiral staircase.
"You will stay for dinner?" he called, as he vanished downstairs again. "Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimpy soup."
"What do you think?" Harry asked Hermione.
"Oh, Harry," she said wearily, "it's a pile of utter rubbish. This can't be what the sign really means. This must just be his weird take on it. What a waste of time."
"Hermione, I'm telling you it is true; for once, Mr, Lovegood is not... loony," I said to them.
"Nah, I think that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? 'Don't go looking for trouble, don't pick fights, don't go messing around with stuff that's best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, and you'll be okay' Come to think of it," Ron added, "maybe that story's why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky."
"What are you talking about?" I furrow my brows.
"One of those superstitions, isn't it? 'May-born witches will marry Muggles.' 'Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.' 'Wand of elder, never prosper.' You must've heard them. My mum's full of them."
"You forget that the three of us were raised by Muggles," I reminded him. "We were taught different superstitions."
"I think you're right," Hermione told him. "It's just a morality tale, it's obvious which gift is best, which one you'd choose —"
The four of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, "the Cloak," Ron said, "the wand," Harry said, "the stone," and I said "the stone."
We looked at each other, half surprised, half amused.
"You're supposed to say the Cloak," Ron told Hermione, "but you wouldn't need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!"
"We've already got an Invisibility Cloak," said Harry.
"And it's helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn't noticed!" said Hermione. "Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble —"
"And is extremely powerful and dangerous," I added. "That's why I chose the stone!"
"So why would you take the stone?" Ron asked Harry.
"Well, if I'd be able to bring people back, we could have Moody, Dumbledore... my parents..."
"I'd want to bring back my mother," I frowned. "I'd love to meet her... apparently I look just like her," a curt laugh left my lips.
"But according to Beedle the Bard, they wouldn't want to come back, would they?" said Harry.
"No," she replied sadly. "I don't think anyone except Mr Lovegood could kid themselves that's possible. Beedle probably took the idea from the Sorcerer's Stone; you know, instead of a stone to make you immortal, a stone to reverse death."
We continued talking about the book and the Deathly Hallows as we made our way to a room. It was most likely Luna's room; full of whacky things and a beautiful mural of Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and even me. But the more we looked in the room, I realized something was wrong; there were no clothes in the wardrobe, the doors stood ajar, and the bed was cold and unfriendly looking. I gasped and finally made the connection– the voice in my mind was a memory, I remembered.
"What's wrong?" Hermione asked me as I pushed out of the room and went to the kitchen. I heard their footsteps follow me as I scurried down the stairs.
"Mr Lovegood," I said dangerously low. "Where's Luna?"
"Excuse me?"
"Where's your daughter, Luna?"
Xenophilius halted on the bottom step.
"I — I've already told you. She is down at Bottom Bridge, fishing for Plimpies."
"So why have you only laid that tray for four?" I looked down at the counter.
Xenophilius tried to speak, but no sound came out.
"I don't think Luna's been here for weeks," I accused. "Her clothes are gone, her bed hasn't been slept in. Where is she? And why do you keep looking out of the window!"
Xenophilius dropped the tray: The bowls bounced and smashed. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I drew our wands: Xenophilius froze, his hand about to enter his pocket.
Hermione stooped down and picked up one of the magazines, her wand still pointing at Mr Lovegood.
"Harry, look at this."
"The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then?" Harry asked coldly. "Is that what you were doing when you went into the garden, Mr Lovegood? Sending an owl to the Ministry?"
Xenophilius licked his lips.
"They took my Luna," he whispered. "Because of what I've been writing. They took my Luna and I don't know where she is, what they've done to her. But they might give her back to me if I — if I —"
"Hand over Harry?" Hermione finished for him.
"No deal," said Ron flatly. "Get out of the way, we're leaving."
Xenophilius looked ghastly, a century old, his lips drawn back into a dreadful leer.
"They will be here at any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave."
He spread his arms in front of the staircase.
"Don't make us hurt you," I said. "Get out of the way, Mr Lovegood."
"HARRY!" Hermione screamed.
We all took our eyes off Xenophilius to see the figures on broomsticks flying past the windows. I quickly realized our mistake: I pushed them out of the way and fell to the ground just in time. Xenophilius's Stunning Spell soared across the room and hit the Erumpent horn.
There was a colossal explosion. The sound of it seemed to blow the room apart: Fragments of wood and paper and rubble flew in all directions, along with an impenetrable cloud of thick white dust. I flew through the air, then crashed on the floor, unable to see as debris rained over me, my arms over my head.
I tried to get up, but I could barely breathe or see. As my eyes focused and the dust settled, I finally saw Hermione; she was covered in dust and pressed her finger to her lips.
The door downstairs crashed open.
"Didn't I tell you there was no need to hurry, Travers?" said a rough voice. "Didn't I tell you this nutter was just raving as usual?"
There was a bang and a scream of pain from Xenophilius. "No... no... upstairs... Potter!"
"I told you last week, Lovegood, we weren't coming back for anything less than some solid information! Remember last week? When you wanted to swap your daughter for that stupid bleeding headdress? And the week before" — another bang, another squeal — "when you thought we'd give her back if you offered us proof there are Crumple" — bang — "Headed" — bang — "Snorkacks?"
"No — no — I beg you!" sobbed Xenophilius. "It really is Potter! Really!"
"And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!" roared the Death Eater, and there was a volley of bangs interspersed with squeals of agony from Xenophilius.
"I swear... I swear... Potter's upstairs!"
"Homenum revelio," said the voice at the foot of the stairs.
I let out an uncontrolled gasped from my chest as an odd sensation swooped low over me, as did Hermione.
"There's someone up there all right, Selwyn," said the second man sharply.
"It's Potter, I tell you, it's Potter!" sobbed Xenophilius. "Please... please... give me Luna, just let me have Luna..."
"You can have your little girl, Lovegood," said Selwyn, "if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter. But if this is a plot, if it's a trick, if you've got an accomplice waiting up there to ambush us, we'll see if we can spare a bit of your daughter for you to bury."
Xenophilius gave a wail of fear and despair. Hermione and Harry were crouched down next to me, quietly lifting pieces of rubble off of me. Very quietly, we made our way to Ron and use the Hover Charm to pick the heavy wardrobe off of him.
"All right," I breathed. "Do you guys trust me?"
"Of course," they said.
"Okay, then give me the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, you're going to put it on with Hermione."
"Me? But Harry—"
"Trust me! Please, Ron! Harry, hold on tight to my hand, Ron, grab my shoulder, and, Hermione, grab onto Ron," I instructed hastily.
Harry held out his left hand for me to grab. Ron and Hermione vanished beneath the Cloak. The printing press blocking the stairs was vibrating: Xenophilius was trying to shift it using a Hover Charm.
"Hold tight," I whispered. "Hold tight... any second..."
Xenophilius's paper-white face appeared over the top of the sideboard.
"Obliviate!" I shouted, pointing my wand first into his face, then at the floor beneath us. "Deprimo!"
Blasting a hole in the sitting room floor, we fell like boulders; Harry held my hand for his dear life, a scream echoed from below, and I saw a glimpse of the two men trying to get out of the way as vast quantities of rubble and broken furniture rained all around us from the shattered ceiling. I twisted in midair and the thundering of the collapsing house rang in my ears as I dragged my friends once more into the darkness.