[FF] Trinity VII: The Twilight (Type-Moon/Harry Potter X-over)

[YamiheKazeto]

[something was written here]

Fine, I concede defeat. I'll just wait to see whatever you planned about them.

[Kieran]

Well there is my problem. I never actually got around to seeing Deathly Hallows since my faith in the movie franchise had dropped significantly after 5 and 6.

The last movie was disappointing in that it was the first one I'd seen where, if you hadn't read the books, there were a couple of points that made no sense. All the others, cuts and changes aside, made sense within the context and continuity of the movies - but on that one, they blew it.

(And, of course, there were the canon pairings - but I've gone into that before.)

They're fun to watch if you enjoy watching the actors, but if not, then I can see why you'd stop.

Fine, I concede defeat. I'll just wait to see whatever you planned about them.

I'm not saying you haven't raised a couple of interesting points, but the problem with adding logic to the Potterverse is that I have to think things through logically - and at the moment, I can't see why Voldemort would be particularly concerned with something he already thinks is securely hidden and/or lethally protected. At worst, I can see him making a replacement for the diary to bring his protection back . . .

[YamiheKazeto]

I'm not saying you haven't raised a couple of interesting points, but the problem with adding logic to the Potterverse is that I have to think things through logically - and at the moment, I can't see why Voldemort would be particularly concerned with something he already thinks is securely hidden and/or lethally protected. At worst, I can see him making a replacement for the diary to bring his protection back . . .

Which is why I conceded defeat. My arguments might raise "interesting points", but if you, as this story's author, don't agree with them and give me a logical explanation of why you feel so, continuing it instead of admitting defeat would only make me appear needlessly obstinate.

[Kieran]

Fair enough, and I appreciate it - but please pick a different phrase. I'm not trying to beat my opinion into you, either.

[B.B. Rain]

Without Harry Potter to act as a clear, single focus for attention and plots, it makes sense for Voldemort to focus on his original, longer term goal of conquering Britian (other then the obvious one of immortality, I mean).

It seems kind of interesting that the Seven, or at least Neville, are expecting something clever and full of misdirection from Voldemort (the same way he's been far more clever and competent here then in the original series) that still targets them and draws attention away from Britian to make his takeover easier when, no, he's just going to take over Britian directly, while they're out of the country.

Also, since she's been out of contact in boot camp, there's been no chance for Takara to learn that Shiki's still alive, right?

[Kieran]

I've been waffling on that - Rin is free to pass messages, so she could've learned about it. Or I could just wait until Ciel sees her at the wedding. I'm open to opinions.

And yeah, the Seven have forgotten the lesson of the Triwizard Tournament - Riddle will always do something complicated, unless "simple" will get him what he wants.


In any case, I'll get back to this as soon as I finish up the next chapter of "Gods and Monsters" (hopefully soon) - I just haven't had a lot of time and energy lately for complicated stuff.

[YamiheKazeto]

I've been waffling on that - Rin is free to pass messages, so she could've learned about it. Or I could just wait until Ciel sees her at the wedding. I'm open to opinions.

Revenge is a strong drive when getting a hold of some new power. Therefore, any self-respecting combat instructor would use Takara's drive. The only question is, will Rin not screw it up and spill it accidentally (because I'm pretty certain she has retained some degree of contact with the outside), but I guess she's clumsy enough to at least drop hints.

And yeah, the Seven have forgotten the lesson of the Triwizard Tournament - Riddle will always do something complicated, unless "simple" will get him what he wants.

To be fair, his last plan during the tournament year was slightly more complicated from their perspective than it really was. And since his original motives were pretty cruddy (as described in the original books), it's not like they really know what his long-term plans are (other than the "enslave wizards, kill mudbloods" shtick).

[TheAbsolutistsCreed]

Nice to see you started so soon. I don't really have time to nitpick at things, though all the same I'm eager to see what happens.

I will say this though... this is gonna be fun​! xD

[kuniKaiRoe]

Laconic description for my absence: Life sucks.
Extended description for my absence: Life sucks, fanfics are a distraction, Nobody Dies has become infectious-ish, H-stuff remains in the bed, and registration sucks more.
So! Yeah. Right.
And the curtain rises on the Seventh/Ninth Act of the Trinity.
Summation of two chapters: in which the Prime Minister acts as an audience surrogate, Ciel's motherly instincts kick in a bit, Shirou's family receive refuge in the Clock Tower, Love Triangle Takara/Hermione fluff, Rin cribs off of Galen, Neville plans to become a saboteur, Neville's Gran gives him her version of a thumbs up, and Kolda-Quart applies reason before revenge (or something similar).

[Kieran]

Laconic description for my absence: Life sucks.

Sorry to hear it, though I have missed you, and it's nice to see you back.

Extended description for my absence: Life sucks, fanfics are a distraction, Nobody Dies has become infectious-ish, H-stuff remains in the bed, and registration sucks more.

Really sorry to hear it.

So! Yeah. Right.
And the curtain rises on the Seventh/Ninth Act of the Trinity.

Depending on how you're counting . . .

Summation of two chapters: in which the Prime Minister acts as an audience surrogate, Ciel's motherly instincts kick in a bit, Shirou's family receive refuge in the Clock Tower, Love Triangle Takara/Hermione fluff, Rin cribs off of Galen, Neville plans to become a saboteur, Neville's Gran gives him her version of a thumbs up, and Kolda-Quart applies reason before revenge (or something similar).

*chuckle* I always enjoy these.


Anyway, since I've finished with the latest chapter of "Gods and Monsters," I'll get right on this again.

[YamiheKazeto]

Depending on how you're counting . . .

I'm counting on the Trinity having to struggle. Does that count?

*chuckle* I always enjoy these.

So do I.

[kuniKaiRoe]

*chuckle* I always enjoy these.

So do I.

Good to know that my presence was sorely missed.
To be honest, my absence is sort of my fault. *looks at Theatrhythm and Dream Drop Distance and Nobody Dies*
Raftel: *alive and amongst the first to return* And miii~ine~
*facepalm* And the Terrifying!Rei fanboy over there.

[Kieran]

DISCLAIMER: Lunar Legend Tsukihime, Fate/Stay Night, and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of Kinoko Nasu and Type-Moon, along with anyone who's happened to license them, like Geneon or Funimation. Harry Potter and all related characters and concepts are the creation and property of J.K. Rowling, along with her publishers and Warner Bros., as regards the movie material.

This is a not-for-profit, just-for-fun project.



Writer's Note: Certain dialogue sequences in this story are lifted from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, but I trust in the intelligence of my readers (and the availability of the books) to recognise them when they see them.



Chapter 3 - Coming to Conclusions



July 30, 1997






After a solid month and a half of wedding preparations (and arguments about them), Ginny was more than ready for a break. When she was informed that the preparations would resume the morning after their arrival in France, the youngest Weasley resolved to make herself scarce - but her mum had apparently counted on that, and had gone to some pains to keep her confined. Her claim was that, as Ginny spoke passable French, she was needed as an interpreter.

As if Fleur didn’t speak English perfectly well - or her parents, for that matter! Ginny thought derisively.

And of course, the Delacours did indeed speak English with at least passable fluency, along with several other languages, as well. One did not, after all, become one of the premier merchant houses in France by restricting oneself to only one language, especially when you dealt in fashion. Yes, their accents were quite thick, but hardly impossible to understand. Still, that was the excuse she’d been given, and as such, if her little red-haired head was spotted anywhere near a door - which was almost a certainty, given the crowd of relatives pouring in - she was really in for it.

But if Ginny was unable to escape her mother’s watchful eye, Kitsune had no such problem. Indeed, the little vixen excelled at just this sort of thing - and in no time at all, she was trotting along a tree branch outside the upstairs bathroom window, making judicious leaps along the trunk to lower branches, gradually seeking the ground. She’d happily help Mum with the preparations - later. Right now, on the other hand (or paw), she had very different plans. The wedding wasn’t the only important event taking place right now, after all . . .

The little red fox slunk carefully along the grounds, trying not to be seen by predators, or anyone that might think a fox’s presence here at all suspicious. Her nose was busily tracking a familiar, masculine scent of damp earth, vegetable matter, and bear - not scents that would normally interest a fox, but which held a special significance to this particular one. Fortunately for her, the Longbottoms had opted to “camp out” on the Delacour estate grounds for the duration of the wedding, since Neville was part of the wedding party, and had taken one of the several magical tents set up for guests coming in from England. She knew it was a double bluff - the fewer people who knew anything about the Longbottom cottage here, the better for their safety - but in this case, it worked out well for her.

Kitsune trotted along to the tent, which had been charmed with several defensive enchantments - she could feel her fur start to rise and crackle as she neared their outer edge. Between Galen’s teachings about protective spells, and Shirou’s about how to enchant objects, Neville was good at defensive enchantments. Even Bill had been surprised when he saw the work, mentioning that it’d probably take him a good ten minutes to tear them down - which was enough time to flee, or counterattack, if the Longbottoms needed it.

However, there were a few deliberately designed holes in the security scheme, and Kitsune was one of them. Satisfying herself that no one was within the range of sight of hearing, Ginny reverted to human form, and crept into the tent, quietly making her way to Neville’s room. Once there, she spent a few moments just watching him sleep - and the redhead had to admit, he looked awfully peaceful. Really, it almost seemed a crime to disturb him . . .

But then again, she was a little vixen, after all.

The moment that Ginny was certain Neville was awake came from the way his eyes bulged wildly when her tongue forced its way into his mouth. She could feel the smirk curling her lips as she pulled back, leaving him panting, and whispered, “Good morning, birthday boy.”

“. . . Ginny,” he breathed at last. “You startled me - I could’ve bitten your tongue off.”

“Off? No,” Ginny scoffed. “Taken a good chunk out of? Probably - but I thought that was more Hermione’s taste now than yours.”

Neville went silent, sombre even, at that remark, and it brought down Ginny’s own mood, as well. Despite the fact that Galen’s death had turned out to be a ruse (and one they’d continue to play in public, as long as the Death Eaters were a threat), Takara and Hermione hadn’t come back from their “delivery” of his corpse to the Japanese magical government. She knew from dealing with the Delacours that they were working with the French Department of Mysteries, as was their own daughter, Rin - but Ginny had no idea what kind of work, or why.

Hopefully something to get at those last two Horcruxes . . .

The red-haired witch shook herself mentally. They’d have enough to worry about this year. If nothing else, the trinity’s departure from the school (and Neville and Hermione, for that matter), would open the rest of them up to retaliations. Anybody who wouldn’t have dared attack while the older students were within earshot, or potential reach, would no doubt take the chance to get a little payback on the weakest members of their little group - which was why Ginny and Luna had been sparring, physically and magically, at every possible opportunity. They’d need to be sharp, when the time came.

Neville brought the redhead out of her thoughts with a look that was almost wistful, but made perfect sense to Ginny. As much as he loved her and her company, he missed his friends.

“What do you suppose they’re doing right now?” Neville asked thoughtfully.

Ginny considered that for a moment before answering, “Well, we’ll have a chance to find out in a couple of days, hopefully . . . But, the romantic part of me would hope that they’re having a lie-in, possibly with an eye towards serving Takara her birthday breakfast - or dinner, if Hermione’s included - in bed.” She smiled. “I’d have done that for you, but I couldn’t figure out a way to levitate the tray and escape Mum at the same time.”

“The wake-up call was enough of a surprise, Gin,” Neville said with a chuckle. “But that’s what your romantic side thinks they’re doing - and what about the practical part of you?

“That part of me figures that with their luck, they’re either getting the daylights kicked out of them, by Rin or someone else, or they’re doing it to each other,” she said drily.

Neville released a deep, sudden sigh, and Ginny restrained a grin. Neville might need cues on how to actually do romance, from time to time, but deep down he was as big a romantic as she was.

“Yeah,” Neville said heavily,“that’s what I figure, too.”






It wasn’t rare that Galen was up before Takara was - like him, the Japanese witch was not a morning person, but she wasn’t a hardwired early riser, either. Still, since they’d begun this “intensive training,” she hadn’t had much choice about her sleep schedule. So the fact that Galen found himself up before her today was a bit of a surprise, until Rin said that she’d decided to give the younger witch an extra half-hour’s rest, for her birthday. Unfortunately, Galen’s sarcastic comment that she was “all heart” hadn’t been quite quiet enough. As a result, he was dodging and shielding against spells (sorry, sparring) when the girl in question woke up, and staggered into the periphery of their firefight.

“Morning, birthday girl,” he called as he caught her reflection in the wall, out of the corner of his eye.

He really couldn’t spare much attention to the conversation, because Rin was good - not on the level of that Tohno kid in terms of power or speed, but she was no slouch, and her knowledge base gave her a seemingly endless variety of spells to choose from. Neville’s Ant duelling style would’ve been overwhelmed by now, and Shirou and Luna’s Spider style likely left too many openings to exploit. Only a near-pure aggressive style, like Scorpion, or a near-pure defence style, like Beetle, would’ve stood a chance against her - and even then, the practitioner would need both power and speed behind it.

“Sorry - no - present,” he said tightly as Rin pressed her attack, silently willing Shield Charms or counter-curses into existence, his wand drawing enough power to deflect them despite the lack of incantation. “Couldn’t - shop.”

A spell suddenly ricocheted off the polished wall beside him, and Galen flinched, until he realised that it had hit Rin, instead of him. Locked in a Body-Bind Hex, she toppled, leaving Galen to turn and face Takara - whose eyes had narrowed into icy slits. If she’d had a tail, it would’ve been lashing furiously.

Crap - what had he done now?

“Um, I’m really sorry I didn’t get you a present?” he tried lamely.

She bristled in response, and said, in her Nanaya voice, “You got me away from them.” Her voice turned hoarse, then. “I thought - I thought you’d died getting me away from them . . . And then you came back.”

Her eyes were bright, and Galen abruptly realised that she was about to cry.

“Takara - ”

She slashed the air angrily with her wand to cut him off. “No presents can - nothing is worth more to me right now than that, Galen. They tried to take Hermione, and they did take Father . . . “ Takara trailed off for a moment, before releasing a deep, shuddering breath. “. . . But I still have you.”

Barely, growled the voice in the back of his mind. The Tohno scion had beaten him - even with the potion pumping through him at the time, he’d barely managed to hold his own in magical combat, and when it had turned to physical attacks . . . The lycanthrope shuddered. Yes, he’d held back his trump cards for fear of collateral damage, but things like Fiendfyre and the Thunderbolt Charm weren’t really meant for fighting one-on-one duels, unless it was with something like a dragon. The fact that he’d needed them in combat with a kid who looked barely old enough to be considering high school . . .

“You’ve got me, too,” Hermione murmured sleepily, looking not quite as awful as she usually did when she was up during daylight hours - being this far underground was apparently easier on her vampiric constitution. Still, there were prominent dark smudges, almost bruises, under her eyes, and she stifled a yawn with one hand as she waved her wand with the other, releasing Takara’s Body-Bind.

Rin was on her feet immediately, her face a mask - but Galen was fairly sure that she was more uncomfortable than angry. Partly at having been caught off-guard, he was sure - the older witch was as much of a perfectionist as Hermione, and as proud of her skills as Takara - but also from having overheard so much personal conversation. The French might discuss such things in polite company, but Rin was as much Japanese, if not more so, and such matters Were Not Talked About around outsiders, and in this case, at least, she was.

Even if she knows and understands far more than even some of our family members . . . Galen mused. But once again, his train of thought was derailed by a witch’s voice speaking up - in this case, Rin’s.

“Now that you’re all up,” she said, “we’ve only got a couple of days left when you’ll have access to the resources of the Departement. Have you found anything else that can give you a lead on that last Horcrux?”

Galen scowled at the reminder of his compound failure last year. Not only had he failed to protect Hermione or Takara from being attacked, he’d gotten the damned Horcrux wrong - and not even realised it! But Ilya’s logic, passed on by Rin, had been unimpeachable, and something he should’ve realised himself. But he hadn’t, and now they’d wasted years that they could have and should have spent researching, trying to determine the identity and location of the last one.

Still, he told himself, it had made sense at the time. Lord Voldemort had planned to make his last Horcrux with the death of Harry Potter - canon-supported fact. Some species of snake could live up to thirty years, making Nagini’s survival from 1981 until the present day plausible - fact. Nagini had been present when the Dark Lord had been cared for in homunculus form by Pettigrew in 1994 - canon-supported fact. And nothing was ever mentioned of the Dark Lord’s wand being found at the remains of the cottage in Godric’s Hollow, yet it were present during his resurrection in 1995 - also a canon-supported fact. As was the fact that Pettigrew had not possessed a wand of his own, when revealed to be alive the summer before - but obviously, both wand and snake had to have come from somewhere.

So, assuming that Nagini had ingested the wand for safekeeping and just slithered off to hide herself away for all that time had been a logical conclusion, given the facts we were presented, Galen reminded himself. A hell of a lot more sensible than the idea that Voldemort had just decided to make a Horcrux out of her when the caretaker wandered into the shack and spotted he, Nagini and Pettigrew - and killed him to do it . . .

He snorted. Rowling’s accounting of the murders used to create the Horcruxes made damned little sense, really. He supposedly killed Myrtle to create the diary, but the imprint knew of events that had occurred years after its creation - and the murders of his mundane relatives to create another Horcrux the following summer, when he was still under the underage magic restrictions, was just as puzzling. The Ministry might’ve overlooked the Imperius Curse on his uncle, given that it was cast within the Gaunt home, but the murders of at least three mundanes in their own territory? Unless they were using a different tracking system in those days, it boggled the mind how he’d not been caught at it.

So going on in that vein, the werewolf supposed, allegedly using the caretaker who’d just wandered by in order to create Nagini made perfect sense - perfect nonsense, that was.

Then again, this is the woman who created a blood protection that burned someone who was merely possessed by Voldemort’s soul to ashes on contact, but apparently had no issues whatsoever with a fragment of the soul itself existing in its charge’s head for nearly eighteen years . . .

Galen shook his head. Honestly, when deconstructed with any amount of seriousness, the books failed to make any real sense. Like, why and how did Voldemort’s spirit end up in -

“Albania,” he said suddenly, causing all three witches to look at him.

“Galen . . .?” Hermione said uncertainly, staring as though trying to slide herself into his mind - but since she hadn’t bitten him in nearly three months, that connection had long since faded.

“The forests of Albania,” Galen repeated. “Every time Voldemort was rendered incorporeal, his spirit wound up there - why? It’s in the area of Greece and Turkey, miles from anywhere . . . But there he went, not once, but twice, because that’s where both Quirrell and Pettigrew found him.”

“The diadem was there, originally,” Hermione mused aloud, no doubt sorting through what she’d absorbed of his memories. “But he moved it, didn’t he? He brought it to Hogwarts.”

“Why would he do that?” Takara asked. “Ravenclaw’s diadem had been lost for a thousand years - no one would’ve looked for it, unless they managed to charm the Grey Lady like he did.”

“And that’s why,” Hermione said triumphantly. “Just in case someone did do exactly that - after all, he had. And he believed that no one else had ever found the Room of Requirement, making it absolutely safe.” She sniffed derisively. “Really, you’d have thought the sheer mountains of junk inside would’ve told him otherwise.”

“But if you put another Horcrux in the place where the diadem was,” Galen said “nobody will think anything of it, because it’s not what they’re looking for if they ever do find the hiding spot, a place that no one had found in a millennium. You want a tiara, after all, not a rock - or whatever the Horcrux happens to be.”

“And to be absolutely sure, you make that your failsafe,” Rin said, joining the conversation. “Make it your primary anchor, to draw your spirit to it if you ever do get killed - because it’s so far out of your normal sphere of influence that no one will even consider that you’ve escaped, or that you might be somewhere else . . . Especially if you’ve hidden all your other anchors in one place - or more specifically, one country.”

“Why cut yourself off from your power base, after all?” Galen murmured in agreement. “Why risk yourself by denying the possibility of aid, or risk its collapse at the hands of the Ministry, or the rise of a rival taking control of it? But if you’re immortal, you have time. You can rebuild, even if it takes decades - and in a place so far away, and so well-hidden, that they’ll never even think to look for you there, much less find you.”

“. . . It’s a start,” Rin said at last. “It’s a place to start.”

“It’s a guess,” Galen corrected. “Even worse, it’s a ‘good guess,’ and I don’t like entrusting the future of society to just those - but we don’t really have anywhere else to go from here. If we assume that Voldemort did the really smart thing, that he made a Horcrux out of a rock and pitched in the ocean, then we may as well give up now.”

Rin scowled. “No, I don’t think so. Everything I’ve heard about this character indicates that he’s like Gilgamesh: he has no real grasp of human emotions, but he has an ego. He wants to believe - he needs to prove - that he’s smarter, more powerful, and superior in every way. Why else use artefacts of Hogwarts’ Founders as his Horcruxes? The loss of historical treasures might’ve stopped a British force, but not the rest of the world. No, it’s because he’s the heir to their power and wisdom, and even better than them, because he’ll live forever, whereas they all died.”

She snorted. “So it needs to be something ostentatious - something worthy of him - and something that will show anyone who sees it that he is the greatest wizard in the world.”

“Which can’t happen if no one can get to it,” Hermione finished. “That’s why he put up those defences around all of them, instead of dropping all of them in the ocean - or burying at least one in Antarctica, or sticking at least one on a space probe.”

Galen considered the difficulties inherent in an attempt to get to and eliminate a Horcrux that was, say, currently orbiting Saturn - and shuddered. Yeah, that would’ve been the really smart play, since you’d be virtually guaranteed a Horcrux that could never be destroyed. And it wasn’t like getting it onto the probe would be very hard, either, with the use of the right spells.

“And why he left them all in Britain,” Takara added. “So that his future subjects would know them - and what they elevated him to - if they were ever found . . . All of them except one, just in case.” She smiled thinly. “He’s a megalomaniacal egomaniac, but he’s not an idiot, after all.”

“Clever enough, though,” Galen warned. “We still don’t know exactly where the diadem was hidden - and it’ll be hard to get in and ask Lady Ravenclaw, at this point. Much less what he might’ve put in for defences - or what the Horcrux actually is.”

“Those are both interesting and formidable mysteries,” Rin admitted, before adding drily, “It would really be helpful if you were in a place that existed to solve such things - oh, wait . . .”

The girls laughed at his expression, and Rin concluded, “Come on, apprentices - we’ve got two days left, tops. Time to get to work.”






Upon careful consideration of the current state of affairs, Albus Dumbledore had to admit to himself that things were not really going all that well.

Oh, there were certain things that were cause for hope, or at least relief, to be sure. To begin with, Lord Voldemort had been driven to flee the shores of Britain once more, at least for the moment, buying them time to mount a suitable defence for the moment of his inevitable return. And he would return, Dumbledore was certain of that. Furthermore, Galen Salvatore’s regrettably cursed soul had found redemption in dying to save the girl he loved, and thereby ending the possibility of his influencing either Shirou Einzbern or Neville Longbottom towards the Dark.

As such an outcome had long been a concern of Dumbledore’s, the ancient wizard found that fact very pleasing indeed, and he was equally gratified that the poor boy’s spirit had turned fully to the Light, at the last. Such events proved the validity of his convictions beyond all doubt . . . And in such times as these, renewed faith was a precious thing, indeed.

Albus Dumbledore was no longer the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and many of his former connections through that venerable body had either dried up, or traded upon for so long that his pull was now nonexistent. He could no longer track Tom Riddle’s movements beyond the British Isles, and thus had no idea where the self-styled Lord Voldemort might have chosen to hide himself, or his followers . . .

No, the old wizard corrected himself, that wasn’t true - he had several ideas, but no evidence to aid him in deducing which was the right one. And while the magical world was somewhat smaller than the Muggle one, in some ways, when given an entire planet to hide in, even a handful of witches and wizards could successfully manage to conceal themselves for years. And while Tom’s followers might be all too mortal, Lord Voldemort himself was the next best thing to immortal - which meant that he, at least, had time to spare.

Whereas I, Albus admitted, am certainly feeling my years.

It was unsurprising, really - once one hit the century-and-a-half mark, even wizarding life spans began nearing their end. It was something of an astonishment to him that Bathilda Bagshot was still alive, at her age, much less as vital and active as she’d proved to be even two years ago. But the fact remained that he was a very old man, indeed, and less vital now than he’d been even three years ago.

. . . Three years ago - when he’d lost the mastery of the Elder Wand.

Only Albus himself knew (and he had no intention of informing anyone else) just how much that mastery of the infamous “Deathstick” had built his reputation. He’d always been a prodigy in the field of magic - a genius, if he might be permitted the boast - but age inevitably dulled one’s senses, slowed one’s reflexes, drained one’s magical strength. Time would inexorably claim its due, unless one wielded the wand that, by design, must always win duels for its owner.

The wand itself added speed to its wielder’s muscles, precision to their movements, and clarity to their thoughts. When battling to undo a spell, or cast a spell, the power of the wand itself reinforced the caster, until what it accomplished would either stand for eternity, or bring down what stood against it. Holding mastery of the Elder Wand would elevate the merely competent to the ranks of the great - and those who were great to the truly legendary. So long as he’d possessed it, Albus had not needed to fear any witch or wizard, no matter their strength or reputation, for the whole of his life. And it had been his plan that, when his life had ended, the power of the Elder Wand would have died with its master, undefeated, ending the Deathstick’s reign of terror upon the world for all time.

And it had been going quite well - until Shirou Einzbern had shot him in the back, catching him by surprise. For that was the secret of the Elder Wand, something that even Gellert Grindelwald had never considered. The Elder Wand must inevitably win any duel - but against a surprise attack, or in an open melee, it was no more than an extraordinarily powerful wand. Still more powerful than any other wand made by human hands, perhaps, but no longer an utterly unbeatable artefact. If there was any truth to the Tale of the Three Brothers, then Death had given Antioch Peverell precisely the wand he’d asked for - no more, and no less.

Albus cursed his luck that day. Since then, he’d still managed to do extraordinary things, being an extraordinary wizard, but the wand merely tolerated his touch, now. It waited, always, for the call of its true master - and in circumstances such as these, such a thing could be dire, indeed. The threat of Lord Voldemort was held in check partially - perhaps entirely - by the Dark Lord’s caution of him, given that he had already killed Tom once before . . . But now, there could not be a repeat of that event. And Shirou Einzbern was unlikely to remain in Britain, with his family returned to Germany.

The sole bright spot, he mused, is that Tom could not gain mastery of the wand now by killing me, even if he knew what it truly was - but it’s a cold comfort. He hardly needs the Deathstick of legend to terrorise Britain, or kill young Neville. Nor, should he choose to kill Shirou Einzbern, would he realise what he has gained in doing so.

If Dumbledore could not end the threat the Elder Wand posed, then at least he could ensure its location remained buried - perhaps for lifetimes. It might surface again, but none would link it to the legends of the Deathstick, or the Hallows -

He paused. The Hallows . . .

For a brief moment, the temptation tugged at him to fulfill the dreams of his youth, to gather the three, and become Master of Death. Surely, whatever the truth of the legend, uniting the Hallows would provide some benefit - allow him to carry on against Lord Voldemort, at least. Prophecy might prevent Dumbledore from vanquishing him for all time, but surely he could aid in it . . . Then, gradually, sense reasserted itself. To leave Britain at this time would almost certainly invite attack from the Death Eaters, and arranging to regain mastery of the wand without giving away something of what he was doing would be nearly impossible in a short period. If nothing else, Xenophilius Lovegood would guess the truth, Albus admitted to himself. And perhaps his daughter, who could tell her friends . . .

Then, too, the Invisibility Cloak had seemingly disappeared with young Salvatore’s death - locating it again could be a lifetime’s work. But the Resurrection Stone . . . He knew where it was, and leaving instructions to young Longbottom on how to use it would allow him to advise the boy, even if the worst should befall - or Einzbern, if he was truly the boy of prophecy. It wouldn’t be easy to accomplish, of course. The Gaunt ring was being watched by the Ministry, Albus knew. Timing its acquisition would be difficult, as would getting away with the theft - but he would find a way. Now that he had a plan of action that meant hope for Britain again, Albus resolved that nothing would stop him from carrying it out.

Amelia or others might complain about his decisions, but in the end, they would all see that it was for the greater good in the long run.

[MWkillkenny84]

And, AGAIN, Dumbles fail to use something VITAL in this story: TALK TO OTHERS and STOP TO SEE THE WORLD IN BLACK AND WHITE!!!

[Kieran]

Well, fairly soon, it'll just be in black . . .

[rajvir]

Well kieran I surprisingly found dumbledoor's perspective fascinating.

[TheAbsolutistsCreed]

I'm surprised he had a few more months among the living... I say fate should be calling for his death about now, if it isn't already screaming for it. It's too bad Kieran already set his attitude from the beginning, if he had a bit more perspective then maybe... just maybe... he would have better received the Scarlet Seven and their goals. Then again, working off of a non-sensical work, I suppose that's the best you can get in some ways since this is Dumbledore we're talking about. Nearly a century of building himself to be what he is now, you might as well say that, "An old dog can't learn new tricks." Kind of amusing in hindsight.

Great chapter, seeing their thoughts going in the right direction (read: circles) adds to the mystery. I hope you do the plot more justice than Rowling did Deathly Hollows, though that's probably not hard at all.

[Kieran]

Well kieran I surprisingly found dumbledoor's perspective fascinating.

I was hoping you might.

I'm surprised he had a few more months among the living... I say fate should be calling for his death about now, if it isn't already screaming for it.

Soon . . .

It's too bad Kieran already set his attitude from the beginning, if he had a bit more perspective then maybe... just maybe... he would have better received the Scarlet Seven and their goals. Then again, working off of a non-sensical work, I suppose that's the best you can get in some ways since this is Dumbledore we're talking about. Nearly a century of building himself to be what he is now, you might as well say that, "An old dog can't learn new tricks." Kind of amusing in hindsight.

Done right, Dumbledore can be very amusing - but that's not quite what I was aiming for here.

Great chapter, seeing their thoughts going in the right direction (read: circles) adds to the mystery.

That's the idea. I don't know yet whether the Horcrux will actually be in Albania - depends on how much trouble they have to go through to get there, I guess - or quite what it is (though I have a few thoughts), but it's a place to start. Because that always bugged me - why Albania, and not just once, but twice?

I hope you do the plot more justice than Rowling did Deathly Hollows, though that's probably not hard at all.

*Sigh* No, sadly, it isn't - but I'll try my best, anyway.

[kuniKaiRoe]

I'm going to say this now, and will never repeat this again.
You've ruined the HP series for me. I'll never take the mainline stories and related fanfiction category seriously ever again.
Raftel: Unless they're already a funny parody~ Like Oh God, not Again!~
Shush. And stop using tildes; that's creepy.
Raftel: Hmm~mmm. How 'bout no~?
Summary: in which Galen awakens, a Eureka moment gives a good clue, Prof. Lollipop has grown weak due to age and exact wording, and his mindset is insulted.

[Kieran]

I'm going to say this now, and will never repeat this again.
You've ruined the HP series for me. I'll never take the mainline stories and related fanfiction category seriously ever again.

Thank you very much for the compliment - and for what it's worth, I can't, either. I only watch the movies for the actors and effects, now.

Raftel: Unless they're already a funny parody~ Like Oh God, not Again!~

I'm rather fond of that one, too.

Shush. And stop using tildes; that's creepy.

Is that what those are called? Thanks, I never knew.

Summary: in which Galen awakens, a Eureka moment gives a good clue, Prof. Lollipop has grown weak due to age and exact wording, and his mindset is insulted.

And now my night is complete.