Chapter 9: Another Step Closer
Wiping his eyes furiously, Harry gave the two graves one last glance before standing up and making his way over to where the others were waiting. Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself, trying not to let it show how unnerved he was by the visit. Hermione draped her arm around his shoulders, pulling him close to her as they made their way down the winding street, back to Grimmauld Place, back to their quest.
***
"Harry?" Harry looked up to the sound of Hermione's voice and saw his girlfriend standing nervously in the doorway. Harry hastily moved to shove the photo album he had been looking at underneath his pillow. He had never actually shown Hermione or Ron the album Hagrid had given to him during his first year, for reasons unknown to even him. He had felt it to be his secret over the years, a secret that he didn't have to share with anyone, a secret to enjoy in solitaire.
"What was that?" Hermione asked, pointing towards the pillow. "What are you hiding from me?" Harry sat silently for a couple of moments, not wanting to show Hermione the book, yet feeling bad for hiding such a thing from her. Eventually, he sighed, pulled the book out from under the pillow, and gestured for Hermione to sit down on the bed next to him.
"What is-" Hermione asked, stopping mid-sentence as Harry opened the front cover, revealing the smiling photograph of his mother. "Oh Harry, where'd you get it- when did you get it?"
"First year," he answered, still staring down at his mother's picture, entranced at how she looked so happy, so innocent, so untouched by Voldemort. Had she already faced Voldemort by the time the picture was taken? How many times? Did she already know about the prophecy?
Harry looked up from the picture. "Hagrid gave it to me after I saved the stone from Quirrel."
"Oh," Hermione said simply and Harry suddenly felt bad for keeping it a secret from her.
"That's your mum, right?" she asked, pointing towards the album. The picture of his mother was now waving, her bright green eyes sparkling with happiness. Harry nodded sadly.
"She's beautiful," Hermione said softly, a trace of sadness in her voice.
Together, they flipped slowly through the pages of the book, pausing at each picture. Hermione kept pointing out various people that they knew, but Harry was trying to drink in every detail, every last bit of information about his parents that he hadn't been able to know: his mother's sweet, joyful laugh, his father's playful grin…
Harry paused at the picture of himself, held in his mother's arms, his father looking over her shoulder. The three of them looked so happy…so perfect. How unfair it was that Voldemort took all of that away.
How different his life would be without Voldemort; he thought of how his father would have taught him how to play Quidditch, how his mother would have held him tight and told him that she loved him…
He could feel Hermione looking at him. "Do you want to stop? I could leave…," she said softly.
"No," Harry looked up. "Don't go…I'm fine."
Harry flipped the page again and a small photograph fell out of the book and into his lap. It was the one Moody had shown him the summer before his fifth year, the one of the original Order of the Phoenix. Harry suspected that someone-most likely Remus-had stuck the picture in Harry's book for him to keep.
He hastily tried to shove the photograph back inside the book, but was stopped by Hermione. "What's that?" she asked, pulling the picture out of Harry's hands to have a closer look.
"The original members of the Order," Harry answered cynically; seeing the picture had brought up the same bitter feelings he felt that summer when Moody had shown it to him. Seeing all of the smiling facing of the original members, most of them long dead because of Voldemort, was just a reminder of the consequences of the war, a reminder of what was being lost the longer Harry waited to fulfill his destiny.
"This is incredible!" Hermione exclaimed, staring intently at the picture. "Look, there are your parents, and Remus-he definitely has aged since then-and Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick… oh, there's Hagrid in the back, you can't miss him…and Dumbledore, and that old barman at the Hog's Head…"
"How did you get this?" she asked, excitedly.
Harry, who had been staring at his hands, looked up. "Moody showed it to me a couple of years ago…I reckon he thought it would be a real treat-" He stopped mid-sentence as a person in the photograph caught his eye.
"Is that Ollivander?" he asked, grabbing the picture from Hermione's hands to get a closer look.
"I suppose so," she answered, looking at Harry with a puzzled expression on her face. "Why?"
"I had no idea he was in the Order…" Harry said slowly.
Hermione continued to stare at him blankly. "Harry, what are you talking about?" she asked.
"Ollivander…if he was in the Order originally, then maybe someone knows where he's hiding…we could go find him, see if he still has Ravenclaw's wand, and check to see if it even is a Horcrux. This is it, Hermione, I just know it is." Harry said all of this very quickly. His cheeks were flushed and his green eyes twinkled with excitement; he spoke with the same passion that Hermione had seen him have only a few times in the past.
Hermione bit her lip, not knowing quite what to make of everything. In her opinion, she thought it highly farfetched, but she couldn't bring herself to point that out to Harry. Sighing, she said slowly, "I suppose the only way to find out is to ask someone. Perhaps Remus will know…" She shook her head in amusement, watching Harry race down the stairs in search of their old professor.
***
Unfortunately for Harry, Remus was nowhere to be found. Unfortunately for Hermione, she had to put up with an hour of watching Harry pace back in forth in front of the door, checking his watch every minute or so, as they waited for Remus to return.
"What are you two doing?" Ron asked as he came down the stairs to find Harry pacing anxiously and Hermione perched annoyed on the edge of a trunk in the front hall.
"We're waiting for Remus," Hermione said dryly, running her fingers through her hair. "Care to join us?"
"Oh…uh, no…" Ron stammered, his face slowly reddening. "I'm kind of busy, doing something upstairs…"
Harry stopped pacing, smirking at Ron with an amused expression on his face. "Are you writing to Luna again?" he teased.
"What?! No…of course not," Ron stammered, his face now the color of a tomato. But as soon as he saw the disbelieving looks on his friends' faces, he changed his answer. "Well, fine. Yes, I am writing to Luna Lovegood. Happy?"
"Very," Harry said, laughing. "It's about time you told us, mate. I know you've been sneaking letters to Hedwig at night."
"Do you fancy her, Ron?" Hermione asked in mock sweetness.
"I'm going back upstairs…" Ron mumbled, walking back up the stairs towards his room.
Harry and Hermione burst out laughing, but were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. "Remus!" Harry jumped up, almost tackling his former professor as he entered Grimmauld Place. Hermione smiled to herself, very happy that the person entering was indeed Remus and not another random member of the Order…like McGonagall… Hermione shuddered at the thought.
"What's going on?" Remus asked as he made his way through the door, closely followed by Tonks, who was sporting alarmingly bright green hair. Remus took off his hat and hung it on a hook on the wall.
"Why didn't you tell me Ollivander was a member of the Order?" Harry asked, crossing his arms across his chest.
Remus looked confused. "I wasn't under the impression you wanted to know…," he said simply.
"Then, do you know where he's hiding?" Harry asked, his excitement growing.
"Well, of course. I was the one who told him of a good place to hide," Remus answered, a bewildered expression still across his face.
Hermione jumped to her feet, surprised at where this conversation was headed.
"He's at the Shrieking Shack," Remus continued.
"Did he tell you why he wanted to go into hiding?" Hermione asked, looking almost as excited as Harry.
"All he told me was that there was a lot of Death Eater activity around his store, and that he was beginning to feel unsafe, what with the war going on. A good thing too, Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour was attacked only days after he went into hiding, and their shops were right across from one another."
Hermione let out a small gasp.
"Hermione, we need to go," Harry said, his eyes still twinkling. "This is it."
"Go where?" Tonks asked. "To the Shrieking Shack?"
The two teenagers nodded. "There's not…no, there can't be," Remus said softly, looking at them in amazement. "Is there a Horcrux there?"
Harry nodded, a smile creeping upon his face.
***
Less than an hour later, Harry stood facing the Shrieking Shack, accompanied by Hermione and Ron. The old house looked just as it used to, and Harry wondered why he once thought it looked creepy and haunted; it was simply an old house, its years of aging evident by the broken windows and cobwebbed front porch.
Taking a deep breath, Harry began walking towards the house, and boldly opened the front door, stepping into the Shrieking Shack. He had sent Hedwig ahead with a letter to Ollivander, notifying him that they would be arriving.
"Mr. Ollivander," he called out, slowly climbing the rickety old staircase, followed closely by Hermione and Ron. A light shone through the crack under one of the doors; Harry couldn't help but notice that it was the same room that he had first met Sirius in.
"Mr. Ollivander?" he called out again, knocking lightly on the door, before creaking it open.
"Ah, good evening Mr. Potter," Ollivander said warmly. "I was expecting to see you."
Harry looked around the room in amazement. Wands stacked ceiling high lined the walls. In one corner, a stone basin rested on an end table, silvery light glowing from it. The Pensieve looked similar to the one Dumbledore had in his office. A hundred or so wands littered the tables, each in various stages of creation. Some, Harry noticed, were simply sticks of wood, others carved and polished until they were sleek and smooth; a few had obviously just recently endured the charms and spells needed to create a working wand, and were twitching on the ground.
"New wand working properly for you, Mr. Weasley?" Ollivander asked, as the trio nervously sat down in chairs set up in the middle of the room. Ron, who had just sunk about a foot into a poofy armchair, looked up in surprise. "What?" he stammered, as he attempted to pull himself out of the chair.
"Ten and a half inches, ash, am I correct?" Ollivander continued, failing to notice Ron's discomfort. Ron nodded, causing him to sink even lower in the chair.
***
"And Death Eaters coming into my shop once every week!" Ollivander exclaimed, bringing a Butterbeer up to his mouth. The trio had arrived at the Shrieking Shack over an hour ago, and three Butterbeers later, the conversation was finally getting somewhere. "It's enough to send anyone into hiding."
"Why do you think the Death Eaters even came to your shop, sir?" Hermione asked politely. Harry noticed Ollivander's eyes dart impulsively towards the corner of the room. Harry felt a smile creep to his face, and he tried hard to keep his excitement hidden.
"Oh, well…" Ollivander fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable with where the conversation had headed.
"It's because of Ravenclaw's wand, isn't it, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry asked suddenly, causing Hermione to shoot him an angry glare. He shrugged, and looked expectantly at Ollivander.
"The- the wand?" he repeated, looking dazed. He pulled off his spectacles, rubbing his eyes.
"Yes, Ravenclaw's wand," Harry said, his voice filled with authority and confidence. "The one that was on display in the window."
"But how did you-" Ollivander stammered, remembered the last time someone had recognized the wand.
"Do you think the Death Eaters kept coming to your shop because of the wand, sir?" Harry repeated.
"Well, of course I would have no way of knowing for sure…"Ollivander said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He looked up and spotted the stern look that Harry was giving him. "But yes…I do believe that it has something to do with Ravenclaw's wand."
"What makes you believe that?" Ron suddenly asked. Harry turned around, surprised; he had forgotten Ron was even there.
"It was almost fifty years ago…,"Ollivander said softly. Harry leaned forward intently, eager to hear what he had to say. "Young Tom Riddle came to my shop…but he looked nothing of how he did during his days at Hogwarts…he'd changed, though I thought nothing of it at the time…and well…I don't know…" He drifted off and looked anxiously towards the ground.
"Could you show us the memory, sir?" Harry asked suddenly, remembering the stone basin he had spotted when he first entered the room. "Please, sir, it's really important."
Ollivander looked up, surprised. "Well, I suppose that won't do any harm," he said. He stood up and made his way over to the Pensieve in the corner. Harry and Hermione looked in awe as he put his wand to his temple and pulled out a silver strand, before dumping it into the shimmering surface of the basin. Hermione, Harry, and Ron glanced eagerly at one another before looking down and allowing themselves to be sucked into the memory…
"Ah, good afternoon, Mr. Riddle…Thirteen and a half inches, yew, phoenix tail feather, wasn't it?" Ollivander asked brightly as a younger Tom Riddle entered the shop.
"Yes, it is a wonderful wand, sir," Riddle answered earnestly.
"So what can I help you with?" Ollivander asked as he polished a pile of wands in front of him.
"I was in Diagon Alley, and thought I would say hello to an old friend of mine," Riddle said, his voice thick with contempt that Ollivander didn't seem to notice. He glanced nervously at Ravenclaw's wand, resting on the faded pillow in the window.
"Well, actually, there may be something you can help me with. That wand in the front window…" Riddle began, but was interrupted by a customer entering the shop.
"Ah yes. Mrs. Bones, good afternoon," Ollivander said, greeting the woman who had entered with a small, timid girl. "Ten and three quarters, oak, rather bendy, am I correct?"
The woman smiled and nodded. "We're here to get Amelia a wand. Starting Hogwarts at the end of the month," she said, smiling proudly down at her daughter.
"Of course," Ollivander said, "I thought I would be seeing you soon." He went to the back of the store and came back carrying a thin wand. "Well, give it a wave," he said impatiently.
Riddle who was standing in the corner, looking very displeased that he had been interrupted, eyed the wand in the window hungrily. His slightly bloodshot eyes narrowed, and he looked strangely inhuman.
"Did you hear about the killings this morning?" Mrs. Bones asked Ollivander. Ollivander shook his head, his mouth slightly opened in disbelief.
"Yes, it was in Ashwood. Killed that auror, Augustus Moody-he's been hunting down dark wizards for years now-and a few Muggles were killed as well, I believe."
"That's dreadful," Ollivander exclaimed, as he snatched yet another wand out of Amelia's hand, replacing it with a thick, stubby one. "Have they figured out who was responsible?"
As Mrs. Bones and Ollivander continued their discussion, they failed to notice the young man in the corner of the room, shrinking back into the shadows, but still eyeing the wand greedily.
It was another ten minutes before Amelia found her wand and the two of them left.
"So, the wand, sir," Riddle said, startling Ollivander who had forgotten he was even there.
"For heaven's sake, dear boy," he exclaimed. "Can't sneak up on me like that!"
"So the wand," Riddle repeated. "It's Ravenclaw's wand, isn't it?"
"Well, yes it is," Ollivander said, walking over to the wand and picking it up delicately. "You may just be the first person to recognize it as hers, I believe. Dear old thing…the pillow's even faded it's been sitting here for so long…"
"I will give you 100 galleons for the wand," Riddle said, cutting off Ollivander, greed glinting in his narrow, bloodshot eyes.
"Of course not!" Ollivander exclaimed. "Selling such an important artifact as this? The wand has been in my family for hundreds of years-" Right then, another customer walked into the shop, interrupting Ollivander, causing his to miss the enraged look on Riddle's face. As Ollivander was busy helping the customer, Riddle walked slyly over to the wand and muttered a long string of words. A small jet of green light shot from Riddle's wand, and Ravenclaw's wand glowed for a moment before returning to normal.
By then, the customer had left, and Ollivander turned his attention back to the mysterious boy. "A hundred galleons!" he muttered under his breath.
"An artifact such as this would be kept forever, kept safe, and protected, am I correct?" Riddle asked, the anger from his face was long gone, replaced by the mock politeness and respect he had adopted earlier.
"Well of course," Ollivander responded, looking slightly confused at the sudden change of attitude. "This wand is forever safe; this wand is worth more than you know…"
"Well, good day then," Riddle said politely, reaching forward and shaking Ollivander's hand, before leaving the shop. Ollivander stood immobile for a few moments, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment.
The memory ended, and with a swirl of colors, the trio found themselves back in the Shrieking Shack. Ollivander was standing to the side anxiously. "Such a great, powerful wizard...so terrible," Ollivander muttered to himself. Harry guessed that Ollivander fully recognized the importance of his exchange with Tom Riddle.
"Sir, if it's not too much to ask, may we please have the wand?" Harry asked nervously, unsure how Ollivander would react.
Ollivander simply nodded and began rummaging through a pile of wands, before pulling out the one that was distinctly Rowena Ravenclaw's. Harry could see a small eagle etched into the handle. "Have it," Ollivander said simply. "It seems to have done enough damage already." Ollivander handed Harry the wand, which Harry carefully wrapped in a cloth-he didn't want the same thing as last time with the locket to happen-before Ollivander bowed them from his room.
Author's Note: Finally…Sorry that took ridiculously long to get out. The next chapter will be out within a week, I promise. And I know this chapter has a few unrealistic, farfetched things in it… Please review!
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