Chapter 25 - Legends
The winds whirled through the trees blowing the autumn leaves across the solemn field. A lone figure stood at the foot of the fresh grave; the stone bore the epitaph for a fallen man. A laugh rang out into the night as he read the inscription,
"Bedd Ann ap lleian ymnewais fynydd
Iluagor Llew Ymrais
Prif ddewin merddin Embrais."
His boot kicked at the fresh dirt, "Good bye, my brother," he said with contempt. " Pendragon has fallen, his bastard son and nephew sits on the throne, and those fools believe sending three across the ages will deter my plans? Your death strengthens my power."
The wind ripped through the stones of the dead. A single crack of thunder split the clear night air. The autumn leaves fell against the new stone, hiding it from sight.
In the millennia that followed, land and title changed, and no more graves were dug on this hillside. The old ones became obscured with time. The legend of the grave of a famous wizard on this hill had passed from father to son and as most legends, it remained in folklore.
Myths and legends remain a curiosity until they are verified. One five-hundred year old legend within one world had been verified in the past quarter century, and another lay waiting. The green field hid its secret well.
A family of four sat alone at a table surrounded by a stone wall of the garden; both children listened patiently to the long tale from their parents for most of the morning.
"Mum, how can you be certain?" the girl asked. "You told me he helped you."
"Yes, he had all of us fooled. I should have remembered that even Muggle history claimed he died in the sixth century. With everything that happened to us, I should have thought it through," Hermione replied to her daughter.
"Your mum isn't the only one to miss the clues; none of us realized what was happening at the time. The document was left for us to find. Once we read it, and saw his name, we realized everything that's happened to us has been by design," Harry said to his children.
"All the suffering we've endured and all the suffering of those around us was caused by him. We are fortunate that he hasn't been able to foresee the inherent good in those he assumed to be unimportant. These two manuscripts are proof of that," Hermione added.
"And the fact I had found this one in Slytherin," Annie said.
"Right; that also shows he's not a member of that house, since the wards have prevented his entrance. We can only enter with your permission," Harry said agreeing with the disclosure of the original manuscript.
"So, how do we fix this, dad?" Ben asked.
"First task is to verify Abraham's role in this, and find a way to correct the original team's errors and trap him. And hopefully we can safely return him to his own world and time," Harry added.
"No, darling; our first task should be to build our own team, we need to tell our Ron and the others all these details," Hermione said.
"Mum, Rudy has a pocket watch - some form of talisman he said help point them to us," Ben said. "Maybe we can use it to return home."
"Possibly, but we need more information. We need to know the details that were left out of this journal," Hermione said.
"What details could have been left out?" Ben asked.
"This log only lists events from one point of view, we have no idea what happened in the time he and the others arrived. For that matter, we really have no idea if they arrived before or after 'he' escaped," Annie replied.
"Mum, if he was so evil, then why did everyone believe he was good? Could there have been two of him?" Ben asked.
The two adults looked at each other nervously before responding.
"We can discuss that idea later; first we have to leave this reality. Love, take the children and see that they are packed; I'll have a chat with Rudy, Lucy, and the others. I expect to be ready on the hour," Harry commanded.
"Children, you heard your father, we have less than three quarters of an hour to pack and meet back here," Hermione said focused at the children.
"Harry," Ron said suddenly when he stepped out of the shadows on the porch and grabbed Harry's arm. "A moment, please?"
Harry nodded, and a glance to Hermione left her smiling as she led the children inside the house to their tasks.
Once alone, Ron replied calmly. "I misjudged you and your wife. I'm sorry."
Harry shook his head, "No, there's no reason to apologize. Things in all the realities we experienced are skewed," he said with a smile. "We've been mates for years, and I'm sorry you and the Harry from this world fell out of friendship. He's a good man, but he's lost his way. I was fortunate to have friends around me that believed in me even when I stopped believing in myself."
"We, Hermione and I, believed in our Harry, but after Dumbledore was murdered by Snape, he gave up on us. Even though we agreed to work with him, he went out on his own that summer. He was really never the same since," Ron replied.
"The best recommendation I can give is for you to stay with him, he still needs you both now more then before. He needs you as much as I need Hermione and Ron from my world. Try to forgive Hermione, she loves you both and she made a mistake," Harry added. "Now, I believe it's time to leave."
Both wizards stood to return to the house, "If you need my help, Harry," Ron started, but was interrupted.
"No need to say anything. I know, as does my counterpart here, that I don't even have to ask. But we have to maintain the appearance that we don't know what's happened. Can you manage that here?" Harry asked.
Ron nodded, "But what of the others? This is my home, as far as I can determine. But what of the other Hermione and Anna that delivered your children here, and that boy the other 'me' brought? They obviously don't belong here, and they shouldn't be left here," Ron argued.
"Good point. Since we only have the one device to control the portal, either they would have to remain here or go with us until this is over. I'll ask Hermione what her preference is; the boy will have to stay with her," Harry replied and left the clearing to return to the house.
Ron followed Harry as they joined the others in the house before again leaving for the Ministry and the Department of Mysteries.
Annie and Ben had finished packing, expecting a brief excursion. Ben remained in the room, carefully dissecting a Muggle alarm clock he found in the room. Annie, still restless and uncertain of the truth, left him alone for the sanctity of one of the rooms upstairs Luna had converted to a reading room. The small room's walls were crowded with various books from both Wizarding and Muggle worlds. One small bookcase was filled with many old and new copies of the Quibbler. Several large winged-back chairs filled the room, creating a cozy and isolated retreat.
She sat in one chair, and mindlessly thumbed through a Muggle book. She hardly noticed soon she was not alone.
"Annie, I need to talk to you," a familiar woman's voice said.
"Mum?" Annie looked up and asked.
"No, I'm not your mother, I'm from another reality," Hermione said and sat next to Annie.
The girl looked slightly puzzled, "I still haven't worked out which reality is which yet," she replied forcing a half smile.
"There are things you must know," Hermione said.
"Mum and Dad already told me everything," she replied.
Hermione shook her head, and lifted Annie's chin and looked into her eyes. "There are things your parents haven't been told, specifically what happened to you recently," she said softly.
Annie's eyes widened, "My God, now what?" she asked nervously waiting for bad news.
"How do you feel? Have you been in any pain?" Hermione asked, avoiding the open-ended question.
Annie shook her head at first, but then finally nodded. "I-I have had some pain…down there," she said hesitantly.
"Sharp pain or dull?" Hermione asked.
"Mostly dull but constant, like I have to pee but can't. Sometimes I have sharp twinges, but not as bad as when…I was in hospital," she replied.
Hermione nodded. "The dull is more then likely cramps, I've had them myself a number of times, they are normal for a young woman. The occasional sharp pains concern me, you may need more time to fully heal," she said.
"So, this is normal? When did you get them?" Annie asked.
"When my Harry and I were together, afterwards," she replied before realizing what she said.
Annie stared at Hermione. Her lip began to twitch. Tears streamed from both eyes. Her hand went to her stomach, and she trembled. "Jerry…raped…me?" she managed to ask.
Hermione's eyes widened, "No, no, what gave you that idea, he has and still loves you dearly. He tried to protect you but he was powerless," she said.
"Mum and dad said you…were…when he…" she sighed deeply. "He did things," she finished.
Hermione's eyes began to fill, "They told you?" she asked.
Annie nodded. "What happened to you was wrong, how could you still have any feelings for him?" she asked Hermione.
"Because I knew he wasn't in control. Because I knew what ever else he did, he loved me," Hermione said. She reached over and wiped Annie's cheeks.
"So you're saying that even after what he did, Jerry still loves me?" Annie asked.
"He didn't do anything to hurt you, he tried to stop it. It was Tom Riddle's presence in you. Jerry knows you were hurt…" Hermione said.
"Raped? He raped me," Annie interrupted with sudden anger in her voice Hermione recognized came from Harry.
"No, he did not rape you. I repeat, he did nothing to harm you. When we found you, you had been bleeding. Your injuries were forced by Riddle, not Jerry. Fortunately you were in this condition briefly," Hermione said to comfort her.
"I don't understand; if he didn't hurt me, then who did?" Annie asked.
" Tom Riddle's presence forced you to do this to yourself; Jerry is just as much a victim as you are. What you must know is that Jerry's memory of that night was purged. But understand, if his memory returns he may not be strong enough to cope with his inability to stop what almost happened. He's not weak, but the power channeled through you was more potent then either of you should ever expect to witness," Hermione said.
Annie sat in stunned silence and waited for Hermione to continue.
"What happened to you was a physical violation. If anyone were to blame, it would be Tom Riddle's presence inside you. Annie, I want you to fully understand what happened was more than just an emotional violation. Tom Riddle forced you to harm yourself, which is that sharp pain you still feel. It will take time to undo the effects. Jerry's love for you is your link to a full recovery. I hope you understand that, and I hope you don't feel differently about Jerry. He really is good for you. Anna expressed some jealousy that you have someone that cares for you the way he does," Hermione said.
"What…how did this happen?" she asked, tears of forgotten pain began to streak down her cheek.
"Tom Riddle split his soul into seven fragments; one of those fragments was put into you at birth with the expectation you would become the host for his soul. Only he failed in that endeavor. That fragment of pure evil remained, contained by the good of a powerful wizard. The last possible attempt to resurrect Riddle was for him to be conceived of blood and pain. A magical talisman was needed as a beacon, to the moment of conception," Hermione said.
Annie shook her head afraid what to ask.
"He forced you to use Jerry's wand, to draw his blood then your own. The pain you have is from that wound," Hermione said softly.
Annie blinked the tears from her vision. "Jerry's wand? I… don't think I can face him," Annie mumbled.
"You have to; he is the only one that can help you past this incident. There's more to love then the physical act. And in time, if you truly love him, you can still share that physical love with him and still have a family. The physical injury was not irreversible, but the emotional damage could be. That boy truly loves you; he has always been by your side, even when no one wanted to be near you, remember that. He's shown how he feels for you time and time again. You both have the advantage of youth - this will be forgotten, and you'll live what I hope is a happy life," Hermione said, while holding Annie's hand.
"But…" Annie started.
"No 'buts;' he's in as much pain, and I think you need to go to him. And remember you shouldn't tell him any of this - it's a woman's prerogative to maintain a few personal secrets," Hermione finished and stood to leave.
"Thank you for being honest," Annie said softly.
"Now, if you feel anything for him, you must tell him, and you need to tell him you will be fine, and that the two of you will be fine. Go," Hermione commanded, and left the room.
Annie sat for a few moments and promised herself to sort out this issue with Jerry when they were safely home.
The Chamber of Death remained dark and forbidding, its secrets remained safe within the growing number of travelers, most contained within two families, and a hand full of other less authorized wizards. Radulphus surrendered the control talisman to Harry on the other side, and getting the eleven people into the small orifice proved challenging. But, all safely entered the portal and all safely returned home.
The eerie silence of the room echoed the sound of each breath drawn by the eleven.
"How long do you suppose we were in there this time?" a woman's voice asked.
"Is this finally our home?" a young girl's voice echoed.
A brilliant light pierced the darkness to revel the group when the main door burst open.
"Potter, Weasley!" a portly man shouted from the door. "The ward triggered exactly as you said they would."
"When, Simmons?" Harry asked impatiently.
"Two days ago. Two of our men were attacked; one was killed. We thought we could contain him, but he proved too powerful as you predicted," Auror Simmons replied.
"Sir, was there any identification on the woman that assaulted them?" Radulphus asked.
"We identified her as Bellatrix Lestrange, but our records listed her as deceased more than twenty-five years ago. She didn't survive long enough to gather any useful intelligence," Simmons answered.
"Understood, we believe we know how that came about," Harry replied.
"Uncle, can you ask about mum?" Arty asked, interrupting the official greeting.
"My sister was attacked after we left; Junior Aurors Malfoy came to alert us. Is there any news?" Ron asked.
"We… that is to say, I haven't any official word. She was taken to St. Mungo's after the attack, that was nearly a fortnight ago," Auror Simmons said.
"A fortnight? But by my calculations, we've been gone just over a week," Hermione commented.
"Possibly we were delayed due to the larger number this time?" Harry offered.
She shook her head, "No, we may have been deliberately delayed. Ron, take Arty and the twins to see about their mother. Sirius, you and Remus need to stay and debrief the Aurors with the results of our missions. Harry and I have an overdue appointment," she ordered.
"Mum? Where should we go?" Ben asked.
"With us; you both are involved in this," Harry replied. "Simmons, post a guard here to ensure no one else comes through."
"Yes, sir," Simmons said as he snapped to attention.
Without another word, the group made a hasty exit from the Chamber. The Apparation point in the Aurors' offices became the point of departure for the group. Ron and his sister's family left together first, closely followed by the Potter family.
The first stop for the Potters was home. Harry held his son's hand and Hermione held Annie as they appeared on the front steps of the cottage.
"Mum, why are we home?" Annie asked.
"First and foremost, we must recover certain items left at home that may be of value, namely the copy of that manuscript you have. We can't risk others finding it," Hermione replied.
"Secondly there are specific artifacts we will need," Harry added. "And from there we'll be able to use our floo for the next leg of our journey."
The four entered the home to an unexpected sight: the total destruction of the first floor. Gasps from the two children were not echoed by the parents.
"Come, children, we only have a few minutes," Hermione stated without emotion.
"Mum, our home…someone…" Annie gasped. The destruction of their home was absolute; nothing remained undisturbed.
"No, a precaution; if it looks like it has been searched, why waste time and search again? We set the house to appear this way when we have to leave for an unknown length of time," Hermione reassured the two children while Harry went to his study.
The kitchen had the same appearance of disarray as the front of the house. As did the study, but only on the surface. Nothing of value had been disturbed or exposed. He quickly walked directly to the antique roll top desk and opened the tiny drawer that still contained a special key. He removed the key and held the key flat in his hand and concentrated on his desired goal. He then moved across the room and stood at a specific bookcase, and started to look for a specific book.
"Seek," he commanded and the key floated from his hand to the one volume in the bookcase he had focused on. Quickly he retrieved the book, and turned the pages to a specific passage. Harry closed his eyes and placed his hand on the book and recited the passage in Latin.
"Est is a dagger quod EGO animadverto pro mihi,
tracto obviam meus manus manus? Adveho, permissum mihi clutch thee.
EGO have thee non, atqui EGO animadverto thee etiam.
Professio sententia non, letalis visum, prudens Ut sensus ut ut os?
vel professio sententia tamen A dagger of mens a reproba partum,
Cedo ex estus - gravatus brain?
EGO animadverto thee etiamnunc, in vultus ut palpable
Ut is quod iam EGO duco."
His hand closed around the jewel encrusted handle, and slowly withdrew the dagger from the tale in the book. He finally released the breath he had subconsciously held; his hand trembled as he held the same dagger that once had been imbedded in his wife's chest.
"I had hoped all these years I would never see this again," he muttered under his breath. He replaced the volume titled 'The Complete Works of William Shakespeare' and held his hand open. With a single thought, a scabbard appeared in his empty hand.
The same moment he held the dagger, his soul-mate felt a sensation she hadn't noticed in years. The icy cold tendrils of his fear gripped her stomach. In her youth that sensation had been limited to the scar on her hand; since Annie's birth, she felt these sensations deeper in her body, but less frequently.
Harry shook off his fear and quickly strode to the far wall where an ancient sword had been carefully hung.
"Don't be afraid of the sword, Harry; it's never hurt either of us before," Hermione said from the doorway.
"I have a feeling it might be useful; it once saved someone else I care about," he replied and removed the blade from its resting place.
She nodded, "Any word from Ron on her condition?"
"No, and that concerns me. He should be sending word soon," he replied.
"I realize we have to leave soon, and I have this uneasy feeling about…" she began but stopped her thoughts.
Harry nodded, "I've had the same concern ever since we realized who's been playing us like pawns in a game of chess," Harry said.
"Darling, it's nearly midnight . I know I said we have to move quickly, but the children looked exhausted. Ben went to his room and collapsed on his bed," she continued.
"Then you're saying we should delay further action until…"
"…Until morning, give us all a night's rest." She said completing his thought.
He paused and contemplated the request thoroughly before replying, "I think you may be right, we all could use the rest."
"Since the urgency is for tomorrow, I'll send an owl to him to prepare him for our visit," Hermione added.
"I would wait on that; we need to be certain to Gnome's motives. We can't hasten this task," he said stopping her as she turned to leave
"Then we must ask someone that has first-hand knowledge. The Centaurs are among the oldest magical creatures…" she began.
"True, but we still are not on the best of terms with them, except for Firenze . Let's visit him in the morning," he said agreeing.
"Well then, I'll send him a message to expect us in the morning," she said and left Harry alone in the study.
Harry waved his hand over Godric Gryffindor's sword, and carefully put it inside his worn rucksack. The sword fit inside the pack; Harry's charm reduced the length to prevent puncturing the bag but allowing it to be extracted in its entirety. He carried his bag with him as he too retired to the bed he shared with his wife of twenty-six years.
Harry rolled over in his bed and watched her sleep. Her hair curled around her face as if alive, and also slumbering. This was the moment of complete contentment he felt daily, surpassed only on those mornings their children had crawled into bed with them.
He smiled and watched her. She smiled, obviously having a warm and comfortable dream. He reached over and stroked her cheek. She released a light moan of delight, but remained peacefully asleep.
The time before Annie's birthday was the last relative peaceful days since the end of the war. He was home, with his family safe. As a benefit, his daughter was now free from the grip of Voldemort. Life would be perfect if only…
Knock… knock…
"Mum, Dad, are you awake?" Annie whispered.
"Come in. Mind your mum; she's still sleeping," Harry whispered back.
The girl tip-toed into the room. Harry held up the bedcovers to let her snuggle him. In the years of having a teenaged daughter, Harry had learned the hard way to wear full pyjamas to bed, and Annie had learned the values of asking first. The warmness of her young body next to him felt reassuring to her newfound health.
"I missed this, daddy," she cooed.
"I have too, sweetie," Harry replied in a whisper. "It appears a good rest did you a world of good."
"I had a lot to think about. I hurt a lot of people. People that only wanted to help me. I need to deal with that and make amends. I need to talk to Jerry, and tell him how much he does mean to me," she said with a sigh.
Harry smiled, "We have a surprise we had planned on saving for a while."
She rolled over to look him in the face, and half-heartedly smiled, "What?"
"We had a talk with the Headmistress and as a personal favour, you'll be allowed to finish in Gryffindor House," he said.
The form on the other side moved, and Harry felt a hand on his side, "Just couldn't wait to tell her?" Hermione teased.
Annie sat up in the bed, and with her parents also moved into a sitting position and shook her head. "No, it's not right; I've been sorted there and I should finish as a Slytherin."
"I do hate to admit you're right, but the fact you're willing to stay really shows the Gryffindor spirit," Harry said and hugged his daughter.
"Dad, I've been thinking about what Uncle Ron said, that we have to find the original reality and go to the starting point. How will we know which is the 'original' reality?" she asked with hesitation.
"We know certain details as fact," Harry began.
"Right, we know we exist in multiple realities and for those realities where we don't exist, there's an explanation; an ancestor had died where he or she hadn't in our reality. But we have no evidence that Gnome existed in any of the other realities. We can also assume that none of the three from the future had descendants in any but their reality," Hermione added.
Annie sat and thought hard, "Then there's a problem in the story, if what you had told us is correct." She paused and caught her breath before continuing. "Mum, you said once you met 'him' in a dream, and he told you he was part of the team that we know went back to capture him. He also said that this Aurellia had a son that turned out to be Godric Gryffindor. That's not possible."
"I don't see the conclusion you're making," Hermione started.
"Don't you see? Godric Gryffindor had to exist in the other realities if Hogwarts were to be built. That is proof that if the single thread theory is true, then what you were told is a lie. We know he has lied to you both to maintain his plan, so he'll change the facts here to lead us down the wrong path," Annie said.
"Harry, she's absolutely right; I have no idea why I didn't realize that," Hermione said.
"Outsmarted by your own daughter," Harry said with a smirk, followed by a well-deserved pillow across the back of his head.
"That's for your cheek," Hermione grinned from the other end of the pillow.
"Oy, that's not fair, she's the one that…" another pillow silenced his argument, this one wielded by his child.
"He was talking too much, mum, and made such a juicy target at that," Annie snickered.
"Mummph…" Harry mumbled from under the pillows.
"What was that, dear?" Hermione asked and peaked under the pile.
"I said, I'm out-numbered," he said as he reached for his wife's ribs, knowing where she was ticklish.
The laughter drew another Potter into the family bed, evening the odds for Harry. The carefree play continued until the family patriarch called for a truce when each adjourned to their respective rooms to dress for the day.
One by one, they appeared at the breakfast table over a warm cup and toast. Waiting at the window, a lone barn owl paused, but refused to enter until Harry came into the room with Hermione.
"Mum, that owl must be for you and dad.I It wouldn't come in, even for a bit of fresh meat," Ben commented.
Harry held out his hand to the bird, and it lighted gently on his arm. A single leg was presented with a scroll.
"It must be Firenze 's reply," Hermione commented while Harry untied the note.
"It's from Charley; he's called the family together and invited us too. He wants us at the Burrow by ten o'clock ," Harry read.
"That's in fifteen minutes. Children hurry along and gather your things, your father and I will be waiting at the Floo," Hermione commanded, scattering the family.
Once alone, he opened the scroll further, "I couldn't bear the thought of telling them, it's about Ginny," he added allowing his stoic mask to fall.
"Is she better?" Hermione asked hopefully.
Harry shook his head. "They asked us to join them in a memorial for her," he said softly.
"We have to tell the children; they need to know," Hermione said.
Harry nodded, "I half prepared myself for this. When Rudy mentioned her condition when we met them, something told me she was already gone," Harry said.
"Gone, dad? Who's gone," Annie asked at the door.
"The note from Charley, it's for a memorial service for your Aunt Ginny at their family plot," Hermione replied.
"She died that day we all went into the veil, didn't she?" Annie asked solemnly.
"Darling, we don't know the details, but we have to support her family," Hermione replied. The girl found her way into an impromptu family embrace.
Ben joined the group still in the kitchen; his mood became as solemn as the others.
"Do you think she'll be next to Uncle Draco?" Annie asked.
"I doubt it. You weren't well then, but when he passed he was buried in his family plot at Malfoy Cemetery . Aunt Ginny left a spot next to him; Rudy said she wanted to be with him when she…" Ben started to say.
Hermione's head snapped up with recognition, "Of course, she'd be with him. It's what she always told me she wanted, and after what you said, about what happened when…when he passed, I expect they'd be buried together there, not at the Burrow," Hermione rationalized.
"You don't expect a trap?" Harry asked.
"We can't rule it out; Ron would have come here and told us in person. He'd never allow this to be handled so coldly," Hermione said.
"I would suggest we all stay on our guard. It's time for us to go," Harry finally said.
"Your father is correct, keep your wands handy. When it's time to leave, we'll use the fireplace in the lounge," Hermione instructed the children. One by one, the four Potters entered the front room and then the floo, arriving at a familiar but now sombre home. Old friends greeted them on the other side of the floo.
"Harry, Hermione, thank you for coming," Fred said as they entered the house.
"We considered telling you last night, but Ron felt you needed a night's rest," George added.
"Where is she?" Hermione asked.
Annie abandoned her family to cross the room where Radulphus and Lucia were talking to Jerry. The conversation was brief, with Annie talking while the others listened. A nod from the twins, and a hand offered led the four to vanish from the room.
"Where she requested, with her husband," Charley replied on hearing them arrive.
Ben looked about before asking, "Where's Arty?"
"She's resting upstairs, she took the news the hardest," George replied.
"Ben, go keep her company, she shouldn't be alone," Hermione ordered, giving the boy a reason to leave the mournful group.
"We will have a brief gathering outside before we go to visit our sister," Ron said from the hall.
"Ron, you should have notified us when you knew," Hermione scolded.
"No, you all have been through too much recently, and there was little any of us could have done," Ron replied.
"Without sounding callous, when did she pass?" Harry asked.
"A few days after you left; she was holding on at St. Mungo's and they were optimistic. She was left alone by healers to notify us she was awake, when they returned, she was gone," Charley said.
"So her injuries were not fatal," Hermione surmised.
"No, that's what has us concerned; she should have been fine," Fred said.
"I've called for an investigation," Ron managed to say through his grief.
"What information do we…" Harry began to ask.
"HELP, MUMMY!" the shrill scream from upstairs changed the conversation to action.
"That was Ben," Hermione said breathlessly.
Without another word, the congregation rushed the stairs. First up was Harry, followed by his two best friends. He didn't hesitate as the door gave way to his touch only to find Ben lying in the centre of the floor, the recently occupied bed now empty.
"Arty!" Ron shouted, hoping to find her hiding.
Hermione was first to her son and rolled him over. His cold lifeless eyes echoed their worst fear.
"Nooo…" Hermione Potter shrieked, as the boy's sister entered the room.
"Mum, wait…" Annie began, but before she could take another step, her father held her.
"Don't go in," he pleaded and pulled his daughter from the room.
"Daddy?" she asked and stared into his swollen eyes.
"He killed my baby," Hermione screamed.
"Hermione, who?" Luna asked and stared at the mother cradling her dead child.
Ron held his wife and pulled her to face him away from the scene, "We only recently discovered what's happened, and who's behind it all…"
"Who the bloody hell did this?" Luna demanded.
Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee.
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation,
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.
Macbeth (2.1.33-61)