CHAPTER TWELVE.
DEATHLY HALLOWS

|

    "We need to talk," Rosalie heard outside the tent, the demanding voice of Hermione Granger causing her to stir.

    The Allen girl just wanted to stay in her bed all day, reading Dumbledore's journal in peace until they decided to move again. Sadly, she knew that Hermione had something important to say and that she couldn't miss it.

    "I want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood," Hermione said as Rosalie walked outside, squinting her eyes at the sunlight.

    "Sorry?" Harry asked the Granger girl, giving a smile to Rosalie once he noticed her there, one that she returned.

    No, she cursed herself, don't smile. Don't smile at him and be nice, don't become friends with him, it will only hurt more later...so don't.

    "See this?" Hermione turned the book in his direction, "It's a letter Dumbledore wrote to Grindelwald. Look at the signature. It's the mark again." Rosalie went over to the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. "It keeps cropping up. Here. In Beedle the Bard. In the graveyard in Godric's Hollow – what?"

    "Jesus," Harry muttered to himself, not noticing that the others heard him, "It was there too."

    "Where?"

    "Outside Gregorovitch's wand shop. On the alley wall..." Harry trailed off.

    "But what does it mean?" Ron asked, and Rosalie rolled her eyes at that.

    "It's the Deathly Hallows, you idiots," she looked at them, "You know? The Invisibility Cloak...Elder Wand...Resurrection Stone...come on, haven't you read the story before?"

    "I'm sorry?" Hermione asked, slightly offended by her comment.

    "Well, I wouldn't expect you to have heard of it, being a muggleborn and all, but Ron surely should've. It's a wizard fairy tale, my mum read it to me sometimes before she died," Rosalie looked down with pained eyes, recalling the memory of her mother.

    Hermione huffed, "Harry, you don't have a clue where the next Horcrux is. And neither do I. But this, this means something. I'm sure of it."

    "Well, of course, it does. Saying that these are real, if one obtains all these items, they become the Master of Death," Rosalie rolled her eyes again, "Something Grindelwald wanted...something Dumbledore also wanted at one point."

    "Can you tell us anything else about it, Rosalie?" Harry asked her kindly.

    "No, I don't have the story anymore. It burned in a fire my father set with every item that belonged to her," Rosalie muttered, a hatred burning in her for her father. Even though he was dead, she still felt such a hatred for him.

    "Then I say we ought to go and see Lovegood," Ron decided, "I mean, he could probably tell us more."

    They all nodded, packing up their tent again before walking. Rosalie stayed with Ron, neither of them speaking, while she faintly heard Harry and Hermione talk.

    "Not still mad at him, are you?"

    "I'm always mad at him."

€

    It was a strange looking house, they saw, with strange plants looking growing outside. The three called Luna's name, but something felt wrong to Rosalie. She saw the plants growing, how they were slowly withering as if they hadn't been watered in such a long time. Luna wouldn't let this happen, and neither would her father, if he was in the right state of mind.

    She had never been to Luna's house before, but still, she knew that Luna would never let a plant die. That was a crime to the Lovegood girl, probably a crime to the whole Lovegood family.

    "Keep off the dirigible plums," Ron muttered, causing everyone to turn to him. He pointed to the sign that said that, and then the door swung open to reveal a barefoot, baggy-eyed Xenophilius Lovegood.

    "What is it? Who are you? What do you want?" he fired questions at them, only stopping when he saw Harry.

    "Hello, Mr. Lovegood. I'm Harry Potter. We met a few months back?" Lovegood's eyes drifted to his scar, "Would it be okay if we came in? It won't take long, sir. I promise."

    Apprehensively, Lovegood let them inside. Rosalie looked around, glancing at the many issues of the Quibbler lying around.

MUGGLE MURDERS RISE

DOZENS DIE AS DEATH EATERS ATTACK

HARRY IN HIDING

WHERE IS THE CHOSEN ONE?

YOU-KNOW-WHO CLAIMS ANOTHER VICTIM: QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP CANCELLED AMID DEATH THREATS

    Rosalie felt herself growing sick as Lovegood turned to them. "So. What brings you here, Mr. Potter."

    "Well, sir, we need some help," Harry politely answered, causing Rosalie to blink because she had never seen him so polite.

    "Ah. Help. I see. Yes, well, the thing is, helping harry Potter, rather dangerous these days..." he shuffled.   

    "Aren't you the one who keeps telling everyone it's their first duty to help Harry?" Ron eyed him, and Rosalie's bad feeling grew bigger as she looked at him.

    "I have expressed that view, yes. In the past. Would you excuse me one moment. I shall return shortly and, um, try to help you..." he then dashed away.

    "What's going on here?" Harry asked, eyeing the room that was incredibly disorganized and ruined.

    "He's mental," Ron replied, "Let's face it. Luna's always good value, but she's nutty as squirrel poo."

    Rosalie let out a shaky breath, "I have a bad feeling here. I think we should leave."

    There was something in her gut that was telling her this, warning her and pleading her to leave. Her heart was beating loudly and she knew that something was going to happen that she didn't like, and she didn't know how to stop it, especially with how stubborn everyone was there.

    "Rose, everything's fine," Harry tried to assure her, but nothing worked. She just knew it was going to happen. Whatever 'it' was, she didn't know.

    Then, Lovegood returned with a tray that was rattling from how shaky his hands were. "May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots? We make it ourselves."

    "Where is Luna, sir?" Hermione inquired stepping closer to him, but not too close.

    "Luna? Oh, um, she'll be along. Now how can I help you, Mr. Potter?" Lovegood quickly changed the topic.

    "Well, sir, it's about something you were wearing around your neck at the wedding. A symbol..." Harry trailed off.

    "You mean this?" Lovegood reached inside his nightshirt and pulled out the symbol of the Deathly Hallows.

    "Yes! Exactly. What we wondered, sir, is, well, what is it?" Harry asked kindly.

    "What is it? Well, it's the sign of the Deathly Hallows, of course," Lovegood told them.

    "So you were telling the truth..." Hermione looked at Rosalie, causing the Allen girl to roll her eyes.

    She scoffed, "Do you think I would lie, Hermione?"

    "Well, do you know everything about them?" they all stayed silent as he chuckled, "I assume you're all familiar with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'?"

    "Yes," three of them answered as one of them said, "No."

    Rosalie, Ron, and Hermione stared at Harry, who just shrugged. Rosalie didn't blame him. He never did read and he was raised by muggles, so of course he had never heard of that story...the one her mother used to read to her when she cried because she was dying.

    Her mother told her of the Resurrection Stone, said that if she found it, she would see her mother again after she died. Rosalie dreamed of that stone after her mother died, hoping to find it to say one last thing to her mother.

    Hermione reached into her bag, taking out the children's book Dumbledore gave her. "It's in here," she looked at them.

    "Well, there's no real reason to go on unless one is familiar with the tale. Why don't you read it aloud, Miss...?" Lovegood questioned Hermione.

    "Granger. Well...all right," Hermione smiled slightly at him, "There were once three brothers who were traveling alone a lonely, winding road at twilight –"

    "Midnight. Mum always said midnight," Ron interrupted, "But twilight's fine. Better actually."

    Hermione huffed before continuing. "In time, the brothers reached a river too treacherous to pass...but being learned in the magical arts, the three brothers simply waved their wands and made a bridge. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

    "It was Death and he felt cheated, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He granted each brother a wish for their cleverness. The oldest, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. So Death fashioned one from an elder tree on the banks of the river.

    "The second brother, who was an arrogant man, asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death plucked a stone from the river. Finally Death turned to the third brother. A humble man, he asked for something that would make him disappear. And so it was that Death handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility. Death then stepped aside and the brothers went their separate ways..."

    Hermione paused before continuing, "The first brother traveled to a distant village where, with Elder Wand in hand, he killed a wizard with whom he had once quarreled. Proceeding to an Inn, he bragged of his invincibility. But that very night...another wizard crept upon him as he lay sleeping. He took the Elder Wand...and slit the brother's throat for good measure. And so Death took the first brother for his own...

    "Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his home, where he took out the stone and turned it thrice in hand. To his delight, the girl he had once hoped to marry before her untimely death appeared before him. Yet soon she turned sad and cold, for she did not belong in the mortal world. Driven mad with hopeless longing, the second brother killed himself so as to join her. And so Death took the second brother...

    "As for the third brother, Death searched for many years but was never able to find him. Only when he had attained a great age did the youngest brother shed the Cloak of Invisibility and give it to his son. He then greeted Death as an old friend and went with him gladly, departing this life as equals..."

    Rosalie looked up at Lovegood after Hermione finished reading, who was staring out the window as if he was waiting for something. "Well, there you are," Lovegood tore his eyes away from the window and to them, "Those are the Deathly Hallows."

    "Sorry...I still don't really understand..." Harry admitted sheepishly.

    Lovegood took a quill and parchment and began to draw a vertical line, "The Elder Wand..." then adds a circle surrounding the line, "The Resurrection Stone..." then drew a triangle around them, "The Cloak of Invisibility. Together...they make the Deathly Hallows. Together...they make one Master of Death."

    "Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione asked before turning to the others, "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 eyes skim over to Rosalie with sadness, but only for a second, before eyeing the tea kettle. "Ah, but your tea's grown cold. Excuse me, I'll be right back."

    They watched him leave as Ron turned to them abruptly, "Let's get out of here once he's back. I'm not touching this stuff, hot or cold."

    "Let's not wait and leave now," Rosalie snapped, "I still have a terrible feeling about him."

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

    "It's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione asked, but then all four of them answered at once.

    "The Wand." Ron.

    "The Cloak." Hermione.

    "The Stone." Harry and Rosalie.

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

    "Its owner grew drunk with power and was murdered," Hermione pointed out.

    "Yeah, but imagine what a short wicked life you'd lead," Ron smiled.

    Hermione rolled her eyes, "Why the Stone, you two?"

    "Well, you could bring people back, couldn't you? Mad-Eye. Dumbledore. Sirius. Anybody," Harry said.

    "I could see my mother again," Rosalie smiled softly, "Talk to her, ask if she's proud of me...say I love you one last time..."

    "What about your father?" Ron asked.

    "I already know what he's going to say," Rosalie grimaced, "I don't want to hear it again."

    The three stared at her sadly, but the one with the most sympathy was Harry. Even though he never knew his own father, he had always been told great things about him, or that he would be proud of Harry, but apparently that was not the case with Rosalie. Apparently, he would say nothing good.

    They started to stand as Lovegood returned. "Mr. Lovegood. Thank you, sir –" Hermione was cut off.

    "You forgot the water."

    "The water?" Lovegood asked, his mind seeming to be somewhere else.

    "For the tea," Ron answered.

    "Did, didn't I? How silly of me," Lovegood muttered.

    "No matter, sir," Hermione shook her head, "We really out to be go–"

    "No, you mustn't –"

    "Sir?" Harry asked him.

    "You're my only hope. They were angry, you see, about what I'd been writing, so they took her. They took my Luna..." Lovegood eyed Harry, "But it's really you they want..."

    "Who took her, sir?" Harry asked the old man.

    "Him. Surely you call him You-Know-Who. But his real name of course is...Voldemort."

    "No!" Ron shrieked, as did Rosalie at the sound of his name. But it was too late. Instantly, out the window, figures on broomsticks appeared in the sky, zooming directly towards the house. The four went straight to the floor as things inside the house exploded. Lovegood started to yell, but was blasted off his feet by a Stunning Spell.

    "Ron! Harry! Rose! Take my hand!" Hermione yelled. The three started to crawl on their knees toward the muggleborn when there was another explosion.

    Finally, they reached Hermione and the four of them were transported out of the house.

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

    "They've kidnapped Luna because he supported me. He was just desperate," Harry softly said, letting guilt take over him.

    Ron said nothing for a while before standing again. "I'll do the enchantments," he took out his wand when Hermione raised her hand, stopping him. Her breath catches and the three others looked to see wands above, illuminating the face of a Snatcher. He grabbed Hermione's scarf, sniffing it before grinning at her. "Hello, beautiful."

    And then they ran. The four of them together, but Rosalie knew that they wouldn't get away. They got far enough away as Harry stopped them after what felt like hours, but it wasn't.

    "They exist. The Hallows," Harry yelled, "But he only wants the one, the last one. That's what he's been looking for."

    "What're you saying?" Hermione asked her friend, afraid of the answer she would receive.

    "He knows where it is, You-Know-Who. He'll have it by the end of the night. He's found the Elder Wand."

    They stayed there for a moment as figures emerged from the trees. Ron is shoved to the ground as the Snatcher from before stripped Harry and Hermione of their wands. No one touched Rosalie.

    "Don't touch her!" Ron yelled, the 'her' being Hermione, but a fist hit Ron hard.

    "Stop it!" Hermione screeched.

    "Your boyfriend'll get worse than that if he doesn't behave, lovely," the Snatcher told Hermione. He then looked at Harry, who had swollen eyes and a horribly misshapen face. "What happened to you, ugly?"

    Harry's hand found his face, feeling around at the lumps. "What's your name?" the Snatcher asked him.

    "Dudley. Vernon Dudley," Harry lied, and Rosalie's heart was beating so loudly in her chest.

    "Check the list," the Snatcher ordered before looking at Ron, "And you, ginger."

    "Stan Shunpike."

    "Like 'ell you are," the Snatcher sneered, "We know skinny Stan. Try again."

    "Weasley...Barney Weasley," Ron answered.

    "Weasley, eh? Wouldn't be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?"

    "Piss off!" Ron yelled, growing angry. "Arthur Weasley's ten times the wizard you are!"

    "Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn't you that tipped him off, was it?" Ron stayed mute as the Snatcher turned to Hermione, "How about you, lovely? What do you they call you...?"

    "Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood," Hermione stiffly answered.

    "You smell like vanilla, Penelope," he said, sniffing her hair, "I think you're going to be my favorite." He then turned to Rosalie, "Now you...you look familiar. What's your name?"

    She couldn't lie, she couldn't lie anymore. If they hated her, good, they should, but she couldn't lie anymore. "Rosalie."

    "Rosalie, eh? Couldn't be Rosalie Allen, could it? The one that You-Know-Who's always talking about? The one who's watching over Harry Potter."

    "Yes, but I lost him a long time ago," Rosalie partially lied. She didn't miss the shocked and betrayed looks on the others, but she looked away before she could see Harry's.

    "There's no Vernon Dudley on here," another Snatcher said, stopping the conversation, something that Rosalie was thankful for.

    "Hear that, ugly?" The Snatcher went to Harry, "The list says you're lying. How come you don't want us to know who you are? Hm?"

    "The list if wrong. I told you who I am –" Harry started in a panicked voice, only to be silenced when the Snatcher placed his finger on his lips.

    "Change of plans, boys. We won't be taking this lot to the Ministry," the Snatcher said, sending a wink to Rosalie.

    The Allen girl took in a sharp breath, hating the way they looked at her. She was a traitor, she was going to hand them over to Voldemort, and she was going to be Nothing forever. No, she already was Nothing, born that way and will die that way.

    But even if she would die that way, she wouldn't let Harry die first. She needed the world to be alright, she needed him to live and she die, because he was the key, even if she would never be remembered.