𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗘𝗟𝗜𝗔 𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗧

ACT TWO, CHAPTER ELEVEN
malfoy manor & the escape to shell
cottage.

VENUS COULDN'T LOSE Harry.

In the past two years (oh my God, two years) that they had been dating, Harry sort of become something like her lifeline. He was the one who kept her head above water and made her feel safe.

She couldn't lose Harry. She couldn't lose Harry. She could lose Harry.

"I'm sorry," Venus whispered. "I love you."

Venus pointed her wand straight at his face and nonverbally casted the spell. There was a bang and a flash of white light. Through the darkness, she watched as Harry collapsed onto the floor from the impact. Venus winced.

Two rough hands then grabbed Venus' arms. One hand snatched her wand right out of her hand. Venus struggled against the person as she was dragged outside, wanting to get her wand back and to escape. However, it seemed impossible.

"Get — off — them!" Ron shouted.

One of the people punched him right across the face, and Ron grunted in pain.

"No!" Hermione screamed. "Leave him alone, leave him alone!"

"Your boyfriend's going to have worse than that done to him if he's on my list," a horribly familiar, rasping voice said.

Venus' eyes widened as she noticed Fenir Greyback, a Werewolf, standing there. Also, calling Ron Hermione's boyfriend — these people clearly didn't know who Ron was actually the boyfriend of.

"Delicious girls . . . what a treat . . . I do enjoy the softness of the skin . . ."

"Search the tent!" another voice demanded.

Venus fought against the person holding her as she watched Harry get thrown facedown onto the ground. Ron was thrown down as well. However, the person merely gripped her tighter. Her and Hermione were the only ones standing. Venus could hear footsteps and crashes from the men pushing over chairs inside the tent as they searched.

"Now, let's see who we've got," Greyback continued, rolling Harry onto his back. He put his wand close to Harry's face, revealing the impact of Venus' spell — a tight, swollen, and puffy face. Greyback laughed. "I'll be needing butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?"

Harry didn't answer.

"I said—" Greyback punched Harry, and Venus flinched as her boyfriend doubled over in pain "—what happened to you?"

"Stung," Harry muttered. "Been stung."

"Yeah, looks like it," a second person agreed.

"What's your name?" Greyback asked.

"Dudley," Harry replied.

"And your first name?"

"I — Vernon. Vernon Dudley."

"Check the list, Scabior," Greyback stated. He then moved sideways to look down at Ron. "And what about you,ginger?"

"Stan Shunpike," Ron answered.

"Like 'ell you are," Scabior argued. "We know Stan Shunpike, 'e's put a bit of work our way."

He got punched in the face again.

"I'b Bardy," Ron corrected, his mouth full of blood. "Bardy Weadley."

"A Weasley?" Greyback questioned. "So you're related to blood traitors even if you're not a Mudblood. And lastly, your pretty little friends . . ."

Venus' skin crawled as Greyback got up and stared at her and Hermione like prey — which, they were.

"Easy, Greyback," Scabior told him.

"Oh, I'm not going to bite just yet. We'll see if they're a bit quicker at remembering her name than Barny." He focused on Hermione first. "Who are you, girly?"

"Penelope Clearwater," Hermione voiced, sounding terrified, but convincing.

"What's your blood status?"

"Half-Blood."

Greyback looked at Venus. "And you?"

Think, Venus. Think, Venus. Think, Venus—

"Charlotte Rogers," Venus said, combining both Charlotte and Elijah's names. "Half-Blood."

"Easy enough to check," Scabior announced. "But the 'ole lot of 'em look like they could still be 'ogwarts age—"

"We'b lebt," Ron cut in.

"Left, 'ave you, ginger? And you decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?"

"Nod a laugh. Aggiden."

"Accident?" Scabior repeated over more jeering laughter.

"You know who used to like using the Dark Lord's name, Weasley?" Greyback growled. "The Order of the Phoenix. Mean anything to you?"

Ron shook his head. "Doh."

"Well, they don't show the Dark Lord proper respect, so thename's been Tabooed. A few Order members have been tracked that way. We'll see. Bind them up with the other two prisoners!"

Venus was dragged a short way and pushed her down into a sitting position. She glared at them harshly as she was tied back-to-back with some other people. Venus didn't know who the other prisoners, but she could tell that Harry was next to her.

"Anyone still got a wand?" Harry whispered.

"No," Venus, Ron, and Hermione chorused.

"This is all my fault. I said the name, I'm sorry—"

"Harry?" a familiar voice began, coming from directly behind Harry.

Venus' eyes widened. Oh my God.

"Dean?" Harry inquired.

"It is you!" Dean exclaimed. "If they find out who they've got—! They're Snatchers, they're only looking for truants to sell for gold—"

"Not a bad little haul for one night," Greyback was saying as boots marched close to the prisoners and they heard more crashes from inside the tent. "A Mudblood, a runaway Goblin, and four truants. You checked their names on the list yet, Scabior?"

"Yeah," Scabior revealed. "There's no Vernon Dudley on 'ere, Greyback."

"Interesting. That's interesting." He crouched down in front of Harry, and Venus clenched her fists. "So you aren't wanted, then, Vernon? Or are you on that list under a different name? What House were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin," Harry responded automatically.

"Funny 'ow they all thinks we wants to 'ear that," Scabior stated. "But none of 'em can tell us where the common room is."

"It's in the dungeons. You enter through the wall. It's full of skulls and stuff and it's under the lake, so the light's all green."

There was a short pause.

"Well, well, looks like we really 'ave caught a little Slytherin," Scabior said. "Good for you, Vernon, 'cause there ain't a lot of Mudblood Slytherins. Who's your father?"

"He works at the Ministry," Harry lied. "Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes."

"You know what, Greyback. I think there is a Dudley in there."

"Well, well," Greyback voiced, clearly wondering if he had just attacked and bound the son of a Ministry official. Venus' heart pounded against her chest. "If you're telling the truth, ugly, you've got nothing to fear from a trip to the Ministry. I expect your father'll reward us just for picking you up."

"But if you just let us—" Harry started to protest.

"Hey!" somebody yelled from inside the tent. "Look at this, Greyback!"

A dark figure came running towards them. Venus felt her heart to her stomach upon seeing a glint of silver in the wandlight. They had found Gryffindor's sword.

Greyback took the sword. "Ve-e-ry nice. Oh, very nice indeed. Looks Goblin-made, that. Wheredid you get something like this?"

"It's my father's," Harry continued. "We borrowed it to cut firewood—"

"'ang on a minute, Greyback!" Scabior insisted. "Look at this, in the Prophet! 'ermione Granger, the Mudblood who is known to be traveling with 'arry Potter."

Venus wasn't one to curse a lot like Charlotte or Penelope, but right now, all she was thinking was shit shit shit shit shit—

Greyback crouched down in front of Hermione. "You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."

"It isn't!" Hermione squeaked, but how terrified she sounded was as good as a confession. "It isn't me!"

". . . known to be traveling with Harry Potter," Greyback repeated quietly. Venus could feel her heartbeat in her ears. "Well, this changes things, doesn't it?"

Nobody spoke. The gang of Snatchers were all watching them, frozen in shock.

Greyback got up and moved over to Harry, staring closely at his misshapen features. "What's that on your forehead, Vernon?"

"Don't touch it!" Harry yelled as Greyback pressed a dirty finger to his stretched out scar.

"I thought you wore glasses, Potter?"

"I found glasses!" one of the snatchers announced. "There was glasses in the tent, Greyback, wait—"

Harry's glasses were shoved back onto his face. Venus looked away, feeling very sick all of the sudden. So much for her stinging curse.

"It is!" Greyback rasped. "We've caught Potter!"

The Snatchers all took several steps backwards, stunned by wat they had done.

"Should we take them to the Ministry?" one of the Snatchers asked.

"To hell with the Ministry," Greyback protested. "They'll take the credit, and we won't get a look in. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who."

This was the worst day of Venus' life.

"Will you summon 'im?" Scabior questioned, sounding awed and terrified at the same time. "'ere?"

"No, I haven't got — they say he's using the Malfoys' place as a base," Greyback revealed. "We'll take the boy there."

It was clear to Venus that Greyback didn't have the Dark Mark, even though he was wearing Death Eater robes. Apparently they only used Greyback for specific situations.

"Are you completely sure it's him?" a Snatcher inquired. "'Cause if it ain't, Greyback, we're dead."

"Who's in charge here?" Greyback roared. "I say that's Potter, and him plus his wand, that's two hundred thousand Galleons right there! But if you're too gutless to come along, any of you, it's all for me, and with any luck, I'll get the girls thrown in!"

Oh, Venus thought to herself. How lucky of me.

"All right!" Scabior shouted. "All right, we're in! And what about the rest of 'em, Greyback, what'll we do with 'em?"

"Might as well take the lot," Greyback voiced. "We've got two Mudbloods, that's another ten Galleons. Give me the sword as well. If they're rubies, that's another small fortune right there."

Venus got dragged to her feet. She knew even her status as a Black and a Pureblood wasn't going to help her today. A Gryffindor and a blood traitor with her parents escaping Voldemort's regime instead of joining.

"Grab hold and make it tight," Greyback ordered. "I'll do Potter! On three! One — two — three—"

They Disapparated, pulling the prisoners with them. Venus tried to throw off the person's hand on her, but it was hopeless. She was squeezed tightly against Harry, and she tried to remind herself that he was here, even though they were absolutely screwed.

The prisoners lurched into one another as they landed on a country lane. Venus stumbled for a moment and blinked the black spots out of her vision. There was a pair of wrought-iron gates at the foot of what looked like a long drive.

One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them. "How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't — blimey!"

He tore his hands away in fright. The iron was contorting itself out of the abstract coils into a frightening face.

"State your purpose!" the face demanded in a clanging, echoing voice.

"We've got Potter!" Greyback triumphantly revealed. "We've captured Harry Potter!"

The gates swung open.

"Come on!"

The prisoners were pushed forwards through the gates and up the drive, between high hedges that muffled their footsteps. Venus vaguely saw a ghostly white shape above her and realized it was an albino peacock. Harry stumbled and was dragged onto his feet by Greyback, now staggering along sideways. Venus looked over at him in concern. She wanted nothing more to grab his hand, but that was impossible.

They were pushed over gravel. A door opened, and light spilled over all of them. Narcissa Malfoy stood there. Venus momentarily felt her heart stop.

"What is this?" Narcissa's cold voice asked.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Greyback answered.

"Who are you?"

"You know me! Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!"

Greyback grabbed Harry and dragged him around to face the light, forcing the other prisoners to shuffle around too.

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" Scabior added. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am—"

Narcissa scrutizined Harry's swollen face. Scabior thrust the blackthorn wand at her. She raised her eyebrows.

"Bring them in," Narcissa ordered.

Venus and the others were shoved and kicked up broad stone steps into a hallway lined with portraits.

Narcissa led the way across the hall. "Follow me. My son, Draco, and my niece, Penelope, are home for their Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, they will know."

Venus resisted the urge to gasp. Penelope was here. That meant, potentially, she would be able to help. Venus didn't know how, but Penelope was smart. She would figure something out — especially if Ron was in danger, which he was.

The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside. It was a wide room with a crystal chandelier on the ceiling and more portraits against the dark purple robes. Two more familiar figures rose from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace as the prisoners were forced into the room by the Snatchers — Lucius and Draco Malfoy. Penelope was nowhere to be found. Venus felt her mind spin with panic.

"What is this?" Lucius questioned.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa replied. "Draco, come here."

Greyback forced the prisoners to turn again so Harry was directly beneath the chandelier. "Well, boy?"

Venus felt sick to her stomach. She glanced over at Harry, still able to see him since she was right next to him. Her hands started to shake behind her.

"Well, Draco?" Lucas began. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't — I can't be sure," Draco responded, keeping his distance from them.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer! Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv—"

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" Greyback interjected.

"Of course not, of course not!" Lucius said impatiently. He approached Harry himself, studying him closely. "What did you do to him? How did he get into this state?"

"That wasn't us," Greyback stated.

"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me." Lucius' eyes went to Harry's forehead. "There's something there, it could be the scar, stretched tight . . . Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

Draco stood right beside his father. His eyes flickered to Venus for a moment for some reason. She sent him a pleading glance. Sure, they had had their differences, but this was life or death. Losing Harry would shatter her completely. And she didn't want to die.

"I don't know," Draco voiced before walking back to the fireplace where his mother stood watching.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa called to her husband. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord . . . they say this is his—" she looked at the blackthorn wand "—but it does not resemble Ollivander's description . . . if we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing . . . remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

"What about the Mudblood, then?" Greyback growled.

Venus nearly fell as the Snatchers forced the prisoners to swivel around agin so that the light fell on Hermione instead.

"Wait," Narcissa said sharply. "Yes — yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"

"I . . . maybe . . . yeah," Draco stammered.

"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" Lucius shouted, walking around the prisoners to face Ron. "It's them, Potter's friends — Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, the one who dated Penelope, what's his name—?"

"Yeah," Draco agreed, his back to the prisoners. "It could be."

"And that's the blood traitor, Venus Black!" Narcissa added. "Potter's girlfriend!"

The drawing room door opened behind Venus. A woman spoke, and the sound of the voice made Venus even more terrified.

"What is this?" Bellatrix Lestrange inquired. "What's happened, Cissy?"

Venus turned her head. Bellatrix was walking slowly around the prisoners. However, there was another person — Penelope. Penelope's eyes were trained on Ron, looking like her veins had turned to ice.

Bellatrix stopped in front of Hermione. "But surely this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" Lucius cried. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"

"Potter?" Bellatrix backed away to look at Harry better. "Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!"

She dragged back her left sleeve. Venus saw the Dark Mark burned into the flesh of her arm. She knew that the woman was about to touch it, to summon her beloved master⁠—

Lucius took Bellatrix's wrist in his hand to stop her. "I was about to call him! I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority—"

"Your authority!" Bellatrix sneered, attempting to rip her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy—"

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy, but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold—" Greyback insisted.

"Gold!" Bellatrix repeated, laughing while still attempting to free herself from Lucius' grasp and reaching into her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his — of—"

She suddenly stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Venus couldn't see. Lucius removed her hand from him and tore up his own sleeve. Venus felt her heart stop.

"STOP!" Bellatrix ordered. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!" Lucius froze with his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode out of Venus' limited line of vision. "What is that?"

"Sword," an out-of-sight Snatcher replied.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yorn, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."

There was a bang and a flash of red light — the Snatcher had been Stunned. The other Snatchers roared in anger.

Scabior drew his wand. "What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"

"Stupefy!" Bellatrix screamed. "Stupefy!"

They were no match for her even if there were four people against one. Bellatrix had prodigious skill and no conscience. They fell where they stood, all except for Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position with his arms outstretched. In her peripheral vision, Venus saw Bellatrix bearing down upon the Werewolf, the sword of Gryffindor gripped tightly in her hand.

"Where did you get this sword?" Bellatrix whispered, pulling his wand out of his unresisting grip.

"How dare you?" he snarled, his mouth the only thing that could move as he was forced to gaze up at her. He bared his pointed teeth. "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword? Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent. Release me, I say!"

She waved her wand. Greyback got to his feet, but appeared too wary to approach her. He prowled behind an armchair with his filthy curved nails clutching its back.

Bellatrix indicated to the unconscious men. "Draco, move this scum outside. If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like—" Narcissa started to say furiously.

"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!" She stood, panting slightly, as she looked down at the sword and examined its hilt. Then she turned to look at the silent prisoners. "If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed." She seemed to e talking more to herself than to the others. "The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself . . . but if he finds out . . . I must . . . I must know . . ." She turned back to her sister again. "The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my—" Narcissa argued.

"Do it!" Bellatrix insisted. "You have no idea of the danger we are in!"

Bellatrix looked positively frightening and mad. A thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet right near Penelope. Penelope jumped to the side to avoid her mother's wand.

Narcissa hesitated for a moment before looking towards her niece. "Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Penelope."

Venus felt slight relief. Penelope wouldn't hurt them.

"Wait," Bellatrix interjected sharply. "All except . . . except for the Mudblood."

And it was back to feeling like she couldn't breathe. Leaving Hermione alone with Bellatrix and Greyback . . . that wasn't good.

"No!" Ron protested. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix smacked him across the face, the blow echoing around the room.

"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," Bellatrix promised. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, little Penelope, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them — yet."

Bellatrix cut Hermione free from the other prisoners and dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room. Penelope stood behind the prisoners with her wand pointed at their backs and ushered them forwards. They shuffled across to another door, into a dark passageway. None of them said anything, but the tension was thick — they hadn't seen each other in months. Venus could tell that Penelope and Ron were just itching to at least hold each other's hands.

They descended down a steep flight of stairs. At the bottom was a heavy door. Penelope unlocked it with a tap of her wand and forced them into a dank and musty room that was dark. Penelope left the door open to shine some light and cast a Muffliato charm. She finally looked at the three Gryffindors, her face pale.

Ron instantly pulled his girlfriend into his arms, repeating three specific words — I love you. Penelope hugged him back, looking like she was about to cry. She let him go and demanded what happened and why they were here. Ron told her that Harry had said Voldemort's name. Penelope then promised that she would find a way to get them out, along with Luna and Mr. Ollivander, but couldn't stay any longer or else Bellatrix would torture her more.

Venus blinked. "Wait, Luna and Mr. Ollivander? They're here?"

Penelope revealed that they had been there for months. Venus shared a look with Harry. This was where Luna had been.

Venus, Harry, Dean, and the Goblin Griphook all entered the cellar. Ron was the only one who didn't at first, obviously wanting to stay with his girlfriend, but eventually got in. Penelope shut the door and locked them in, leaving them in total darkness. Suddenly, there was a terrible, ear-splitting scream from above. Venus' eyes widened as she looked at the ceiling.

"HERMIONE!" Ron yelled, starting to struggle against the rope. "PENELOPE, PLEASE—"

"Ron," Venus stated firmly. "Shut up, Penelope said everything would be fine—"

"PENELOPE! HERMIONE!"

"Be quiet!" Harry insisted. "Shut up, Ron, we need to work out away—"

"P! 'MIONE!"

"We need a plan, stop yelling — we need to get these ropes off—"

"Harry?" a whisper came through the darkness. "Venus? Ron? Is that you?"

Ron stopped yelling. There was a sound of movement close by them, and Venus saw a shadow moving closer.

"Luna?" Venus began. "Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me!" Luna confirmed. "Oh no, I didn't want you to be caught!"

"Luna, Penelope said you could help us get these ropes off," Harry said.

"Oh, yes . . . there's an old nail we use if we need to break anything . . . just a moment . . ."

Hermione screamed again. Bellatrix was screaming too, but her words were inaudible because Ron was shouting Penelope and Hermione's names again.

"Mr. Ollivander?" Luna inquired. "Mr. Ollivander, have you got the nail? If you just move over a little bit. . . I think it was beside the water jug . . ." She came back within seconds. "You'll need to stay still."

Venus could feel here digging at the rope's tough fiers to work the knots free. Meanwhile, they could still hear what was going upstairs.

"I'm going to ask you again!" Bellatrix demanded. "Where did you get this sword? Where?"

"We found it — we found it — PLEASE!" Hermione begged.

And then, all was quiet. Venus could hear Penelope's soft voice after the silence — she had interrupted Bellatrix's torture of Hermione. However, that made Ron struggle against the rope harder than ever. The rusty nail slipped onto Harry's wrist.

"Ron, please stay still!" Luna pleaded. "I can't see what I'm doing—"

"My pocket!" Ron told her. "In my pocket, there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!"

A few seconds later, there was a click, the spheres of light the Deluminator had sucked from the lamps in the tent flew into the cellar. Unable to rejoin their sources, they simply hung there like tiny suns that flooded the underground room with light. Venus saw Luna with her big eyes and white face, and the motionless figure of Ollivander curled up on the floor in the corner. Venus looked around at the other prisoners — Dean and Griphook, who seemed barely conscious, kept standing by the ropes that bound him to the humans.

"Oh, that's much easier, thanks, Ron," Luna responded, beginning to hack at their bindings again. "Hello, Dean!" It was a couple more moments until she finished. "There!"

The ropes fell from them. Ron instantly started to run around the cellar to look for a trapdoor. Dean, his face bruised and bloody, gave a small thanks to Luna and stood there shivering. Griphook sank onto the cellar floor, looking groggy and disoriented with many welts across his face.

Venus shook out her wrists before looking at Harry's face. It seemed to be morphing back to normal. She reached forwards and took his hands.

"Sorry for the Stinging Jinx," Venus voiced.

"It's okay," Harry replied. "But I'll make sure not to get on your bad side so you don't use it on me again."

Ron was now trying to Disapparate without a wand.

"There's no way out, Ron," Luna revealed. "The cellar is completely escape-proof. I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here for a long time, he's tried everything."

Venus glanced up at the ceiling. Hermione was still up there, but Penelope was up there. She could at least keep her mother under some kind of control. At least that's what Venus kept telling herself.

"Help us!" Harry suddenly pleaded to a mirror fragment. "We're in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, help us!"

Hermione suddenly sobbed. "We've never been inside the vault . . . it isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" Bellatrix repeated. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" Lucius admitted. "Draco, fetch the Goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

Harry rushed across the cellar to where Griphook was huddled on the floor. Venus knew he was telling the Goblin to say the sword was a fake so they wouldn't get even more hurt.

Venus could hear someone scuttling down the cellar steps. She looked towards the door.

"Stand back," Draco's shaking voice demaned from behind the door. "Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!"

Malfoy wouldn't kill them. Venus knew he wouldn't.

They did as they were told. As the lock turned, Ron clicked the Deluminator and the lights went back into it, restoring the cellar to its darkness. The door flew open, and Malfoy marched inside, pale and determined, with his wand held out in front of him. He seized Griphook by the arm and backed out again, dragging Griphook with him. The cellar door slammed shut, but at the same time, a loud crack echoed inside the cellar. Ron clicked the Deluminator. Three balls of light flew back into the cellar, revealing Dobby the House-Elf, who had just Apparated into their midst.

"DOB—!" Ron began, but Harry hit him to stop, and Ron looked terrified at his mistake.

There were footsteps crossing the ceiling overhead — Malfoy marching Griphook over to Bellatrix.

Dobby's enormous eyes were wide and was trembling from his feet to the tips of his ears. Venus recalled Harry telling her Dobby used to work for the Malfoys. It was clear he didn't like being in the home of his old masters.

"Harry Potter, Dobby has come to rescue you," Dobby said.

"But how did you—?" Harry started to say, but then shook his head. "You can Disapparate out of this cellar?" Dobby nodded. "And you can take humans with you?" Dobby nodded again. "Right. Dobby, I want you to grab Venus, Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander, and take them — take them to—"

"Absolutely not," Venus protested. "I'm not leaving you. Not right now, not ever."

Harry's eyes were pleading. "Please just go with them, Star."

"No."

"Venus—"

"No."

Venus crossed her arms defiantly against her chest. Harry's eyes trailed across her face, as if he was realizing this was serious.

Harry sighed. "Fine. Stay. But Dobby, the others, take them to—"

"Bill and Fleur's," Ron cut in. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts ofTinworth!"

The Elf nodded for a third time.

"And then come back," Harry continued. "Can you do that, Dobby?"

"Of course, Harry Potter," Dobby whispered.

He hurried over to Mr. Ollivander, who was arely conscious. He took the wandmaker's hands in his own. Dobby held the other to Luna and Dean. Neither of them moved.

"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna stated.

"We can't leave you here," Dean added.

"Go, both of you!" Harry urged. "We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's."

"We'll be fine," Venus told them, even though she didn't really believe that herself. "Go, we'll follow."

They caught hold of Dobby's hand. There was another loud crack, and Dobby, Luna, Dean, and Ollivander vanished.

"What was that?" Lucius shouted. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"

Venus, Harry, and Ron all stared at each other.

"Draco — no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"

Footsteps crossed the room overhead, then there was silence. Venus could tell that the people in the drawing room were listening for more noises from the cellar.

"We're going to have to try and tackle him," Harry told Ron quietly. "And Venus, you can . . . silence him, when we do."

Venus nodded. "Solid."

"Leave the lights on."

Someone descended down the steps outside the door. Harry and Venus stood on one side of the door against the wall while Ron stood on the other side.

"Stand back," Wormtail ordered. "Stand away from the door. I am coming in."

The door flew open. For a split second Wormtail gazed into the apparently empty cellar, ablaze with light from the three miniature suns floating in midair. Then Harry and Ron surged forwards and launched on him. Ron seized Wormtail's wand arm and forced it upward. Venus slid onto her knees and pressed her hand to his mouth, muffling his voice. They silently struggled. Wormtail's wand emitted sparks, and his silver hand (Venus remembered Harry telling her Voldemort gave him that) closed around Harry's throat. Venus' eyes widened and she lifted up her other hand, trying to tug Wormtail's hand away.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Lucius called from above.

"Nothing!" Ron replied in a passable imitation of Wormtail's wheezy voice. "All fine!"

"You're going to kill me?" Harry choked, assiting Venus in trying to pry the metal fingers away. "After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail!"

The silver fingers slackened. Harry, astonished, wrenched himself free and fell to sit next to Venus closely, who was still holding a hand over Wormtail's mouth. Wormtail's small watery eyes widened with fear and surprise — just as shocked at what his hand had done. He continued to struggle more powerfully as if it would make up for that moment of weakness.

Ron took Wormtail's wand. "And we'll have that."

Wadnless, helpless, Wormtail's pupils dilated in terror. His eyes slid from Harry's face to something else. His own silver fingers were moving towards his own throat.

"No—" Harry began.

He tried to drag back the hand. However, there was no stopping it. Wormtail was punishing himself for Voldemort by strangling himself.

"No!" Harry repeated.

Venus removed her hand from Wormtail's mouth and used both of her hands to help Harry. Ron released Wormtail too and tried to help. They tried to pull the crushing metal fingers from around Wormtail's throat. but it was no use. Pettigrew was turning blue.

Ron pointed the wand at the silver hand. "Relashio!"

Nothing happened. Wormtail dropped to his knees and his eyes rolled upwards in his purple face. He gave a last twitch, and was still.

Venus felt absolutely sick to her stomach.

She felt Harry grav her hand and bring her up the stairs. Her, Harry, and Ron ran back up the stairs into the shadowy passageway that led to the drawing room. They crept cautiously along it until they reached the drawing room door, which was a jar. Now they had a clear view of Bellatrix looking down at Griphook, who was holding Gryffindor's sword in his long-fingered hands. Hermione was at Bellatrix's feet, barely stirring. Venus met Penelope's eyes, and the girl shook her head a minimal amount. Not yet.

"Well?" Bellatrix asked. "Is it the true sword?"

Venus' breath hitched.

"No," Griphook answered. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix urged. "Quite sure?"

"Yes."

Bellatrix instantly looked relieved. "Good." With a casual flick of her wand, she slashed a deep cut into the Goblin's face. He dropped with a yell at her feet, and she kicked him aside. "And now, we call the Dark Lord!" She pushed back her sleeve and touhed her Dark Mark with her finger. "And I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Ron screamed.

Ron burst into the drawing room. Venus blinked at the sudden movement. Bellatrix looked around in shock. She turned her wand to face Ron instead, but Penelope was faster than her mother. Penelope Disarmed Bellatrix and threw the wand to Venus, who had just started to run into the room.

Venus caught Bellatrix's wand effortlessly. She started to Disarm the others with the unfamiliar wand. Venus caught all the wands and even found hers among them from when the Snatchers had been dragged away. She picked it up and ducked behind a chair to avoid a jet of light from Malfoy's wand, putting her own wand in the waistband of her jeans.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!" Bellatrix demanded.

Venus peered around the chair. Bellatrix was holding Penelope in her arms, her short silver knife pressing onto her daughter's throat.

"Drop your wands. Drop them, or we'll see exactly how traitorous her blood is!"

Penelope, of course, told them to leave because she wasn't worth it. As if. Venus, Harry, and Ron stayed where they were.

"I said, drop them!" Bellatrix shouted, pressing the blade harder into Penlope's throat, making beads of blood appear and start to drip down her chest.

"All right!" Harry yelled.

Venus dropped Bellatrix's wand and Ron dropped Wormtail's. The three of them raised their hands in surrendder. Venus swallowed, hoping her wand was concealed enough. She was their only hope right now.

"Good!" Bellatrix exclaimed. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!" Malfoy moved to take the wands. "Now, Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood and I take care of little Penelope. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

At the last word there was a strange grinding noise from above. Venus looked up to see that the crystal chandelier was trembling. Then, with a creak and an onimous jingling, it started to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it. She dropped her daughter and threw herself aside with a scream. Penelope jumped forwards into Ron's arm and he pulled away from the chandelier. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains.

It fell on top of the Goblin. Ron ran forwards to help the Goblin out of the wreckage. Harry went to go get the wands while Venus left her face from behind the chair, running over to Hermione. She gathered the girl in her arms and lifted her up, basically leaning all of her weight on her. They all grouped together, Dobby standing in front of them.

Narcissa pointed her wand at the Elf. "Dobby! You! You dropped the chandelier—?"

Dobby pointed a shaking finger at his old mistress. "You must not hurt Harry Potter."

"Kill him, Cissy!" Bellatrix shrieked. There was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room. "You dirty little monkey! How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Ron, catch — and GO!" Harry yelled.

He threw the wand, and Ron caught it. Venus held on tight to Hermione and grabbed Dobby's shoulder. Instantly, they spun on the spot and Disapparated. As she turned in the darkness she saw the frozen figures of Narcissa and Malfoy, a streak of red that was Ron's hair, a blur of flying silver as Bellatrix's knife flew to where they were vanishing — Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur's, Shell Cottage, Bill and Fleur's . . .

Venus kept repeating that in her head.

And then they hit solid Earth. Venus smelt salty air as she gasped, her eyes flying open. She glanced around. There seemed to be a cottage a short away away under the wide starry sky. There was weight in her arms, and Venus looked down to see Hermione was still unconscious. Penelope was repeating the words I'm sorry to Hermione until Ron interrupted, picking up Hermione.

"DOBBY!" Harry suddenly screamed.

Venus' head whipped over. She scrambled to her feet, running over to her boyfriend. Dobby was swaying slightly, stars reflected in his eyes. They all looked down at the silver hilt of the knife protruding from Dobby's heaving chest.

"Dobby — no — HELP!" Harry bellowed. "HELP!"

Harry caught Dobby in his arms when the Elf stretched his arms out to him. Venus sunk to her knees, tears filling her eyes as the dark stain spreading across Dobby's front got larger and larger.

"Dobby, no, don't die, don't die—"

The Elf looked at him. "Harry . . . Potter . . ."

And with a little shudder Dobby went still, and his eyes were nothing but spheres of glass that were sprinkled with light from the stars they couldn't see.

╞════════ ༺ ༻ ════════╡

VENUS DIDN'T KNOW what to do.

She suddenly got a wild sense of déjà-vu — kneeling next to Harry, trying to pull him away from a dead body. Last time it was Dumbledore. This time it was Dobby.

Harry kept repeating Dobby's name over and over even though the Elf had gone to place where he could not call him back. Venus felt tears drip down her cheeks as he did so. Nothing she could say or do would make this better.

They had come to the right place. Bill and Fleur, along with Dean and Luna, were gathered around.

"Hermione?" Harry suddenly questioned. "Where is she?"

"Ron's taken her inside," Bill replied. "She'll be all right."

Harry looked back down at Dobby. He reached a hand forwards and pulled the sharp blade from the Elf's body. Harry then took off his own jacket and covered Dobby in it like a blanket.

"Venus." She looked up at Bill. "Why don't you go inside and get cleaned up? There's a cut on your forehead."

She reached up and touched her forehead, which was wet and sticky. When she pulled her hand away, she saw that blood was staining her fingertips. She must've been cut by some glass from the chandelier and hadn't noticed.

Venus squeezed Harry's shoulder sadly, who was seemingly out of it. She stood up from the sand and followed Fleur into the cottage with Dean carrying the injured Goblin.

She sat at a table in the kitchen and allowed Fleur to treat her cut. Right now, all she just felt was numb. The past few hours had been nothing but pure chaos and Venus' mind hadn't really caught up yet. She just wanted everything to stop.

It was about thirty minutes later when they all migrated outside. Venus had a blanket slung over her shoulders and trailed after Fleur, who was wearing a large white apron with a bottle of Skele-Gro in it. Hermione, who was wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown, was pale and unsteady on her feet. Venus put an arm around her waist and supported her, giving her friend a small smile. They all gathered around a grave Harry and Ron had dug, and Dobby was wearing a woolen hat and socks like he always did.

"We should close his eyes," Luna suggested. She leaned down and placed her fingers on Dobby's eyelids, closing them. "There. Now he could be sleeping."

Harry placed Dobby into the grave and arranged his tiny limbs. He then climbed down and gazed upon his body for the last time. Venus frowned as he did so. He had lost so much already.

"I think we ought to say something," Luna voiced. "I'll go first, shall I? Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."

She turned and looked expectantly at Ron.

Ron cleared his throat. "Yeah . . . thanks, Dobby."

"Thanks," Dean muttered.

Harry swallowed. "Good-bye, Dobby."

Bill raised his wand, and the pile of dirt beside the grave rose up into the air and fell neatly upon it, creating a small, reddish mound.

"D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" he asked the others.

Venus stared at him in concern. He needed his alone time, she knew that, but she also wanted to be there for him. Maybe that meant letting him come to her like always. She didn't want to push him — that would only make him snap.

She helped Hermione walk back to the cottage. Venus sat with her on the couch, allowing Hermione to lean against her because she was exhausted. Bill was talking to the room as a whole as they all sat in the living room. It was a pretty, light-colored room with a small driftwood fire burning brightly in the fireplace.

". . . lucky that Ginny's on holiday," Bill admitted. "If she'd been at Hogwarts, they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she's safe too."

He looked and saw something in the doorway. Venus glanced around to see Harry standing there, covered in dirty and Dobby's blood. She instantly sat up straighter.

"I've been getting them all out of the Burrow. Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family — don't apologize. It was always a matter of time, Dad's been saying so for months. We're the biggest blood traitor family there is."

"How are they protected?" Harry inquired.

"Fidelius Charm," Bill explained. "Dad's Secret-Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing now. Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too. There isn't much room here, but she's got plenty. Griphook's legs are on the mend, Fleur's given him Skele-Gro; we could probably move them in an hour or—"

"No. I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It's important."

Venus' eyebrows knit in confusion. His voice was filled with authority. However, she didn't know why he needed to talk to them.

Harry looked down at his mud and blood-covered hands. "I'm going to wash. Then I'll need to see them, straightaway."

He left. Bill left not soon after him, probably to talk to Fleur.

With an anxious look on her face, Venus turned to Penelope and asked the one thing she wanted to know most — how Charlotte and Elijah were. She had been with them at Hogwarts for the past couple of months. Venus' heart basically ached for any news of them.

"I've been worried sick about them," Venus told her. "How are they?"

Penelope hit her with the truth. Charlotte was getting the harshest treatment from both being a No-Maj-born (wait, sorry, her American ways still stuck with her — Muggle-born) and speaking her mind. Elijah, on the other hand, was constantly taking care of her because of it.

Venus didn't really expect anything less. That's how she thought things would be. After all, Charlotte and Elijah just worked like that — Charlotte speaking out and Elijah just being along for the ride.

"I need you two as well!" Harry called.

Venus looked over. Harry was standing on the staircase with Bill. She stood up, joining him on the stairs with Ron, Hermione, and Penelope.

"How are you?" Harry inquired to Hermione. "You were amazing — coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that—"

Hermione smiled weakly. "Well, we should actually be thanking Penelope, because she saved me."

Penelope responded by saying she would never let Bellatrix hurt her.

"What are we doing now, Harry?" Ron asked.

"You'll see," Harry said. "Come on."

Harry offered his hand out to Venus. She took it, interlocking their fingers together, feeling a little weight lift off of her shoulders from the comfort it gave her. They went up the steep stairs onto a small landing with three doors leading off of it.

"In here," Bill stated.

He opened the door to his and Fleur's room. It had a pretty view of the sea, now flecked with gold in the sunrise. Harry moved him and Venus to the window. They turned their back on the spectacular view. Hermione took the chair beside the dressing table, and Penelope Ron stood by the chair, wrapped up in each other. Bill reappeared while carrying the Goblin. He set him down carefully on the bed. Griphook grunted a small thanks. Bill left, closing the door behind him.

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed," Harry began. "How are your legs?"

"Painful," Griphook responded. "But mending."

He was still clutching the sword of Gryffindor and wore a strange look — half defiant, half intrigued. His skin was sallow, his fingers were long and thin, and his eyes were black. Fleur had removed his shoes, and his long feet were dirty. He was larger than a House-Elf, but not by much. His domed head was a lot bigger than a human's.

"You probably don't remember—" Harry started to say.

"—that I was the Goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?" Griphook finished. "I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst Goblins, you are very famous." The Goblin and Harry sized up each other for a moment, and Venus squeezed her boyfriend's hand. "You buried the Elf. I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door."

"Yes."

"You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter."

"In what way?" Harry questioned.

"You dug the grave," Griphook answered.

"So?"

Griphook didn't answer. Venus had a feeling Harry was being sneered at for acting like a No-Maj — Muggle.

Harry went on. "Griphook, I need to ask—"

"You also rescued a Goblin," Griphook interrupted.

"What?"

"You brought me here. Saved me."

"Well, I take it you're not sorry?" Harry argued a little impatiently.

Griphook twisted the thin black beared upon his chin with his finger. "No, Harry Potter, but you are a very odd wizard."

"Right. Well, I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me." A moment of silence, where Griphook just frowned at Harry. "I need to break into a Gringotts vault."

Venus' eyes widened and her head snapped over to him. Huh?

"Harry—" Hermione protested.

"Break into a Gringotts vault?" Griphook repeated, wincing slightly as he shifted in the bed. "It is impossible."

"No, it isn't," Ron countered. "It's been done."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "The same day I first met you, Griphook. My birthday, seven years ago."

"The vault in question was empty at the time," Griphook replied. ""Its protection was minimal."

"Well, the vault we need to get into isn't empty, and I'm guessing its protection will be pretty powerful. It belongs to the Lestranges."

He was definitely asking for a death wish. Penelope looked the most shocked out of all of them.

"You have no chance," Griphook voiced flatly. "No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours—"

"Thief, you have been warned, beware — yeah, I know, I remember," Harry told him. "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"

Griphook stared at Harry. "If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did notseek personal gain, it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and Elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers."

"Wand-carriers," Harry echoed.

"The right to carry a wand has longbeen contested between wizards and Goblins."

"Well, goblins can do magic without wands," Ron responded.

"That is immaterial!" Griphook exclaimed. "Wizards refuse to share the secrets of wandlore with other magical beings, they deny us the possibility of extending our powers!"

"Well, goblins won't share any of their magic either. You won't tell us how to make swords and armor the way you do. Goblins know how to work metal in a way wizards have never—"

"It doesn't matter," Harry interjected. "This isn't about wizards versus Goblins or any other sort of magical creature—"

Griphook let out a nasty laugh. "But it is, it is about precisely that! As the Dark Lord becomesever more powerful, your race is set still more firmly above mine! Gringotts falls under Wizarding rule, House-Elves are slaughtered, and who amongst the wand-carriers protests?"

"We do!" Hermione insisted. She sat up straight, her eyes bright. "We protest! And I'm hunted quite as much as any Goblin or Elf, Griphook! I'm a Mudblood!"

Venus frowned at the term. Penelope even tried to stop her from saying it.

"Why shouldn't I? Mudblood, and proud ofit! I've got no higher position under this new order than you have, Griphook! It was me they chose to torture, back at the Malfoys', before Penelope intervened against her own mother! Did you know that it was Harry who set Dobby free? Did you know that we've wanted Elves to be freed for years? You can't want You-Know-Who defeated more than we do, Griphook!"

Griphook gazed at Hermione curiously. "What do you seek within the Lestranges' vault? The sword that lies inside it is a fake. This is the real one." He looked at all of them, his eyes stuck on Penelope's for a little bit longer. "I think that you already know this. You asked me to lie for you back there."

"But the fake sword isn't the only thing in that vault, is it?" Harry asked. "Perhaps you've seen the other things in there?"

Oh. That's why he was doing this. He thought there was a Horcrux in there. It made sense, due to Bellatrix being Voldemort's most faithful servant.

"It is against our code to speak of the secrets of Gringotts," Griphook revealed. "Weare the guardians of fabulous treasures. We have a duty to the objects placed in our care, which were, so often, wrought by our fingers." His eyes moved from one to the other. "So young to be fighting so many."

Venus agreed.

"Will you help us?" Harry urged. "We haven't got a hope of breaking in without a Goblin's help. You're our one chance."

"Wait," Venus cut in. "We have a Lestrange with us. Why can't Penelope just let him in?"

Penelope agreed. Griphook, however, told them that names were attached to vaults. Since Penelope's was attached to the Tonks one and deemed traitorous to the Lestranges, her name wasn't on the Lestrange Vault. Penelope didn't seem particularly surprised by it and asked Griphook again if he would help them break in.

"I shall . . . think about it," Griphook stated.

"But—" Ron began angrily before Penelope elbowed him in the ribs.

"Thank you," Harry told Griphook.

Griphook bowed his head in acknowledgement and flexed his short legs. "I think that the Skele-Gro has finished its work. I may be able to sleep at last. Forgive me . . ."

"Yeah, of course."

They all left. Before leaving, Harry leaned forwards and took the sword of Gryffindor from the Goblin. Griphook didn't protest, but Venus could see the resentment in Griphook's eyes.

"Little git," Ron commented. "He's enjoying keeping us hanging."

Hermione pulled them all away from the door into the middle of the still-dark landing. "Harry, are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you saying there's a Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault?"

Penelope instantly jumped in, saying that Bellatrix looked terrified when she saw the sword and thought that they had been in their vault. And Bellatrix was never terrified. There was only one thing inside that vault that she was feared could be taken.

"But I thought we were looking for places You-Know-Who's been, places he's done something important?" Ron replied, looking baffled. "Was he ever inside the Lestranges' vault?"

"I don't know whether he was ever inside Gringotts," Harry said. "He never had gold there when he was younger, because nobody left him anything. He would have seen the bank from the outside, though, the first time he ever went to Diagon Alley. I think he would have envied anyone who had a key to a Gringotts vault. I think he'd have seen it as a real symbol of belonging to the Wizarding world. And don't forget, he trusted Bellatrix and her husband. They were his most devoted servants before he fell, and they went looking for him after he vanished. He said it the night he came back, I heard him. I don't think he'd have told Bellatrix it was a Horcrux, though. He never told Lucius Malfoy the truth about the diary. He probably told her it was a treasured possession and asked her to place it in her vault. The safest place in the world for anything you want to hide, Hagrid told me . . . except for Hogwarts."

Ron shook his head when Harry finished speaking. "You really understand him."

"Bits of him." Venus frowned, squeezing his hand. "Bits . . . I just wish I'd understood Dumbledore as much. But we'll see. Come on — Ollivander now."

They followed Harry across the little landing. He knocked upon the door opposite of Bill and Fleur's room.

"Come in!" a weak voice exclaimed.

Ollivander was laying on the twin bed farthest from the window. He had been held in that cellar for more than a year and quite obviously tortured. The bones of his face were sticking out sharply against his yellowish skin. His great silver eyes seemed vast in their sunken sockets. The hands that were resting on the blanket could have belonged to a skeleton. Harry sat down on the empty bed. Venus sat down next to him, and Harry placed their interlocked hands on his lap. Ron, Penelope, and Hermione joined them on the bed. The sunrise wasn't visible in this room. Instead, it faced the cliff-top garden and the freshly dug grave.

"Mr. Ollivander, I'm sorry to disturb you," Harry told him.

"My dear boy," Ollivander began. "You rescued us. I thought we would die in that place. I can never thank you . . . never thank you . . . enough."

"We were glad to do it." After Penelope tried to apologize for never finding a way to break him out and him reassuring that she did a valiant effort, Harry continued. "Mr. Ollivander, I need some help."

"Anything. Anything."

"Can you mend this?" Harry questioned. "Is it possible?"

Ollivander held the two barely connected halves of Harry's wand in his trembling hand. "Holly and Phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."

"Yes. Can you—?"

"No. I am sorry, very sorry, but a wand that has suffered this degree of damage cannot be repaired by any means that I know of."

Venus felt like she got punched in the stomach from that. She knew Harry was devastated from that, even if he had been expecting it.

Harry took the wand halves back and put them back in the pouch around his neck. Ollivander stared at the place where the shattered wand had vanished and did not look away until Harry took out the two wands he had brought from the Malfoys'.

"Can you identify these?" Harry inquired.

Ollivander took the first wand and held it close to his faded eyes, rolling it between his fingers. "Walnut and dragon heartstring. Twelve-and-three-quarter inches. Unyielding. This wand belonged to Bellatrix Lestrange."

He gave the wand back to Harry, but Penelope took it instead.

Harry then gave him the other wand. "And this one?"

Ollivander performed the same examination. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Ten inches precisely. Reasonably springy. This was the wand of Draco Malfoy."

"Was?" Harry repeated. "Isn't it still his?"

"Perhaps not. If you took it—"

"—I did—"

"—then it may be yours. Of course, the manner of taking matters. Much also depends upon the wand itself. In general, however, where a wand has been won, its allegiance will change."

There was silence in the room except for the distant rushing of the sea.

"You talk about wands like they're their own entities," Venus noticed. "Like they have their own feelings."

"The wand chooses the wizard," Ollivander recited. "That much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wandlore."

"A person can still use a wand that hasn't chosen them, though?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes, if you are any wizard at all you will be able to channel your magic through almost any instrument. The best results, however, must always come where there is the strongest affinity between wizard and wand. These connections are complex. An initial attraction, and then a mutual quest for experience, the wand learning from the wizard, the wizard from the wand."

"I took this wand from Draco Malfoy by force. Can I use it safely?"

"I think so," Ollivander responded. "Subtle laws govern wand ownership, but the conquered wand will usually bend its will to its new master."

Ron pulled out Wormtail's wand and handed it to Ollivander. "So I should use this one?"

"Chestnut and dragon heartstring. Nine-and-a-quarter inches. Brittle. I was forced to make this shortly after my kidnapping, for Peter Pettigrew. Yes, if you won it, it is more likely to do your bidding, and do it well, than another wand."

"And this holds true for all wands, does it?" Harry questioned.

"I think so," Ollivander answered. "You ask deep questions, Mr. Potter. Wandlore is a complex and mysterious branch of magic."

"So, it isn't necessary to kill the previous owner to take true possession of a wand?"

Ollivander swallowed. "Necessary? No, I should not say that it is necessary to kill."

"There are legends, though," Harry continued, and Venus started to see what he was talking about. "Legends about a wand — or wands — that have passed from hand to hand by murder."

Ollivander turned pale, so pale that he loked light gray against the snowy pillow, and his eyes were swimming with fear. "Only one wand, I think."

"And You-Know-Who is interested in it, isn't he?"

"I — how?" Ollivander looked at Venus, Ron, Penelope, and Hermione for help. "How do you know this?"

"He wanted you to tell him how to overcome the connection between our wands," Harry continued.

Ollivander looked terrified. "He tortured me, you must understand that! The Cruciatus Curse, I — I had no choice but to tell him what I knew, what I guessed!"

"I understand. You told him about the twin cores? You said he just had to borrow another wizard's wand?" Ollivander, still looking horrified by how much Harry knew, nodded slowly. "But it didn't work. Mine still beat the borrowed wand. Do you know why that is?"

Olivander shook his head as slowly as he had just nodded. "I had . . . never heard of such a thing. Your wand performed something unique that night. The connection of the twin cores is incredibly rare, yet why your wand should have snapped the borrowed wand, I do not know . . ."

"We were talking about the other wand, the wand that changes hands by murder," Harry reminded him. "When You-Know-Who realized my wand had done something strange, he came back and asked about that other wand, didn't he?"

"How do you know this?" Harry didn't answer. "Yes, he asked. He wanted to know everything I could tell him about the wand variously known as the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny, or the Elder Wand."

Venus could feel Harry's gaze on the side of her face. He had been right about everything.

"The Dark Lord had always been happy with the wand I made him — yew and Phoenix feather, thirteen-and-a-half inches — until he discovered the connection of the twin cores. Now he seeks another, more powerful wand, as the only way to conquer yours."

"But he'll know soon, if he doesn't already, that mine's broken beyond repair," Harry voiced quietly.

"No!" Hermione shouted, sounding frightened. "He can't know that, Harry, how could he—?"

"Priori Incantatem. We left your wand and the blackthorn wand at the Malfoys', Hermione. If they examine them properly, make them re-create the spells they've cast lately, they'll see that yours broke mine, they'll see that you tried and failed to mend it, and they'll realize that I've been using the blackthorn one ever since."

Venus saw the little color Hermione regained since their arrival drain from her face. "Okay, how about we don't talk about that right now."

"The Dark Lord no longer seeks the Elder Wand only for your destruction, Mr. Potter," Ollivander revealed. "He is determined to possess it because he believes it will make him truly invulnerable."

"And will it?" Harry urged.

"The owner of the Elder Wand must always fear attack, but the idea of the Dark Lord in possession of the Deathstick is, I must admit . . . formidable."

Venus slightly frowned. Even after being tortured and imprisoned by Voldemort, the idea of the Dark wizard in posession of the Elder Wand seemed to enthrall him as much as it repulsed him.

"You — you really think this wand exists, then, Mr. Ollivander?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh yes," Ollivander answered. "Yes, it is perfectly possible to trace the wand's course through history. There are gaps, of course, and long ones, where it vanishes from view, temporarily lost or hidden; but always it resurfaces. It has certain identifying characteristics that those who are learned in wandlore recognize. There are written accounts, some of them obscure, that I and other wandmakers have made it our business to study. They have the ring of authenticity."

"So you — you don't think it can be a fairy tale or a myth?"

"No. Whether it needs to pass by murder, I donot know. Its history is bloody, but that may be simply due to thefact that it is such a desirable object, and arouses such passions in wizards. Immensely powerful, dangerous in the wrong hands, and an object of incredible fascination to all of us who study the power of wands."

"Mr. Ollivander, you told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand, didn't you?" Harry cut in.

Ollivander turned, if possible, paler, and looked ghostly as he gulped. "But how — how do you—?"

"Never mind how I know it. You told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the wand?"

"It was a rumor. A rumor, years and years ago, long before you were born! I believe Gregorovitch himself started it. You can see how good it would be for business: that he was studying and duplicating the qualities of the Elder Wand!"

"Yes, I can see that," Harry agreed. He stood up, tightening his grip on Venus' hand. "Mr. Ollivander, one last thing, and then we'll let you get some rest. What do youknow about the Deathly Hallows?"

Ollivander looked utterly bewildered. "The — the what?"

"The Deathly Hallows."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. Is this still something to do with wands?"

Harry stared at Ollivander for a moment. "Thank you. Thank you very much. We'll leave you to get some rest now."Ollivander looked stricken."

Ollivander looked stricken. "He was torturing me!" he gasped. "The Cruciatus Curse . . . you have no idea. . . ."

Penelope said that she did have an idea what it was like. Venus had been unconscious at that moment in time, but back in the Department of Mysteries, Penelope had the Cruciatus Curse used on her by her own mother. Penelope then told Ollivander to get some rest and thanked him for talking with them.

Harry led Venus, Ron, Penelope, and Hermione down the staircase. Venus saw Bill, Fleur, Luna, and Dan sitting at the table in the kitchen with cups of tea in front of them. They all looked up at Venus and Harry as they appeared in the doorway. Venus gave them a small smile and Harry merely nodded to them as they continued into the garden. The reddish mound of Earth that covered Dobby lay ahead, and Harry brought them to it.

"Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand a long time ago," Harry explained. "I saw You-Know-Who trying to find him. When he tracked him down, he found that Gregorovitch didn't have it anymore: It was stolen from him by Grindelwald. How Grindelwald found out that Gregorovitch had it, I don't know — but if Gregorovitch was stupid enough to spread the rumor, it can't have been that difficult. And Grindelwald used the Elder Wand to become powerful. And at the height of his power, when Dumbledore knew he was the only one who could stop him, he dueled Grindelwald and beat him, and he took the Elder Wand."

"Dumbledore had the Elder Wand?" Ron asked. "But then — where is it now?"

"At Hogwarts.

"But then, let's go! Harry, let's go and get it before he does!"

"It's too late for that," Harry admitted. He clutched at his head, clearly in pain. Venus stared up at him in concern. "He knows where it is. He's there now."

"Harry!" Ron yelled furiously. "How long have you known this — why have we been wasting time? Why did you talk to Griphook first? We could have gone — we could still go—"

"No."

Harry suddenly sank to his knees in the grass. Venus' eyes widened and she fell to her knees next to him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and allowed him to lean his weight on her. Harry's head slumped on top of hers. Venus gave a panicked look to Ron, Penelope, and Hermione. This was not good.

"Hermione's right," Harry stated. "Dumbledore didn't want me to have it. He didn't want me to take it. He wanted me to get the Horcruxes."

"The unbeatable wand, Harry!" Ron insisted.

"I'm not supposed to . . . I'm supposed to get the Horcruxes . . ."

Harry sunk into his mind, looking at what Voldemort was doing. Venus had an awful feeling as to where Voldemort was and what he was after. This was really not good.

╞════════  ༺ ༻  ════════╡

BILL AND FLEUR'S cottage stood alone on a cliff overlooking the ocean, its walls embedded with shells and whitewashed. Venus found the place both lonely and beautiful. Maybe that's why she enjoyed it so much — it was quiet, away from the chaos. She could hear the constant flow of the sea at all times. It made her miss when she would sit beside the Hudson River, just listening. Back then, she had no worries but getting home before the Wall Street workers got out and avoiding getting hit by taxis.

God, Venus hoped she could get back to New York City one day.

Harry kept making excuses to escape the crowded cottage. Venus wanted to join him, but he needed his space. She knew that. So, instead, she focused her attention on helping Ron and Hermione catch Penelope up to speed on what they had been doing since the wedding, when they saw her last. It was an extremely long story. Venus was just glad that there were three of them to fill in details that they had sometimes forgotten.

Three days after they had arrived at cottage from Malfoy Manor, Venus, Ron, Penelope, and Hermione joined Harry in his usual spot — the wall that separated the cottage garden from the cliff. Ron and Hermione were arguing about Dumbledore and the Elder Wand again. With a shared exasperated look, Venus and Penelope took the two of them outside to get some fresh air. That proved to be a mistake, because all they did was try and include Harry in their argument.

"But is he dead?" Ron argued.

"Yes, he is, Ron, please don't start that again!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Look at the facts, Hermione. The silver doe. The sword. The eye Harry saw in the mirror—"

"Harry admits he could have imagined the eye! Don't you, Harry?"

"I could have," Harry replied, not even looking at her.

"But you don't think you did, do you?" Ron questioned.

"No, I don't."

"There you go! If it wasn't Dumbledore, explain how Dobby knew we were in the cellar, Hermione?"

"I can't — but can you explain how Dumbledore sent him to us if he's lying in a tomb at Hogwarts?" Hermione inquired.

"I dunno, it could've been his ghost!" Ron protested.

"Dumbledore wouldn't come back as a ghost," Harry interrupted. "He would have gone on."

"What d'you mean, gone on?"

"'Arry?" Fleur's familiar voice began. Venus turned to see she had come out of the cottage, her long silver hair flying in the breeze. "'Arry, Grip'ook would like to speak to you. 'E eez in ze smallest bedroom, 'e says 'e does not want to be over'eard."

Her dislike of the Goblin sending her to deliver messages was clear — Fleur looked quite irritable as she walked back around the house.

Griphook was waiting for them, just like Fleur had said, in the tiniest of the cottage's three bedrooms, which Venus, Hermione, Penelope, and Luna all shared at night. He had drawn the red cotton curtains against the bright, cloudy sky, which gave the room a fiery glow that didn't seem to belong with the rest of the airy, light cottage.

"I have reached my decision, Harry Potter," Griphook announced, who was sitting cross-legged in a low chair, drumming his arms with his thin fingers. "Though the Goblins of Gringotts will consider it base treachery, I have decided to help you—"

"That's great!" Harry exclaimed. "Griphook, thank you, we're really—"

"—in return for payment."

Venus raised an eyebrow. Payment?

Harry hesitated. "How much do you want? I've got gold."

"Not gold," Griphook refused. "I have gold." His black eyes glittered. "I want the sword. The sword of Godric Gryffindor."

"You can't have that. I'm sorry."

"Then we have a problem."

"We can give you something else," Ron suggested eagerly. "I'll bet the Lestranges have got loads of stuff, you can take your pick once we get into the vault."

Griphook flushed angrily. "I am not a thief, boy! I am not trying to procure treasures to which I have no right!"

Ron nodded in agreement with Penelope, who said it wasn't stealing because she was a Lestrange. "The sword's ours—"

"It is not."

"We're Gryffindors, and it was Godric Gryffindor's—"

"And before it was Gryffindor's, whose was it?" Griphook demanded, sitting up straight.

"No one's," Ron answered. "It was made for him, wasn't it?"

"No! Wizarding arrogance again! That sword was Ragnuk the First's, taken from him by Godric Gryffindor! It is a lost treasure, a masterpiece of Goblin work! It belongs with the Goblins! The sword is the price of my hire, take it or leave it!"

Harry glanced at the other four. "We need to discuss this, Griphook, if that's all right. Could you give us a few minutes?"

Griphook nodded, looking sour. They all went downstairs to the empty sitting room. Venus crossed her arms across her chest as she stood next to the couch.

"He's having a laugh," Ron insisted. "We can't let him have that sword."

"It is true?" Harry asked to Hermione. "Was the sword stolen by Gryffindor?"

"I don't know," Hermione responded hopelessly. "Wizarding history often skates over what the wizards have done to other magical races, but there's no account that I know of that says Gryffindor stole the sword."

"It'll be one of those Goblin stories about how the wizards are always trying to get one over on them," Ron revealed. "I suppose we should think ourselves lucky he hasn't asked for one of our wands."

"Goblins have got good reason to dislike wizards, Ron. They've been treated brutally in the past."

"Goblins aren't exactly fluffy little bunnies, though, are they? They've killed plenty of us. They've fought dirty too."

"But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn't going to make him more likely to help us, is it?" Hermione stated.

There was a pause. All of them were trying to think of a way around the problem.

Ron spoke up first. "Okay, how's this? We tell Griphook we need the sword until we get inside the vault, and then he can have it. There's a fake in there, isn't there? We switch them, and give him the fake."

His girlfriend immediately shut him down, saying that Griphook would know the difference between the real and fake because he was the only one who realized it back at the Manor.

"Yeah, but we could scarper before he realizes—"

Penelope then cut in again, saying he would just make the rivalry between Goblins and wizards worse. They needed to give him something just as valuable or actually give him the sword.

"Maybe he's lying," Harry offered. "Griphook. Maybe Gryffindor didn't take the sword. How do we know the Goblin version of history's right?"

"Does it make a difference?" Hermione questioned.

"Changes how I feel about it." He took a deep breath. "We'll tell him he can have the sword after he's helped us get into that vault — but we'll be careful to avoid telling him exactly when he can have it."

Venus blinked. Oh?

Hermione looked alarmed. "Harry, we can't—"

"He can have it, after we've used it on all of the Horcruxes," Harry continued. "I'll make sure he gets it then. I'll keep my word."

"But that could be years!"

"I know that, but he needn't. I won't be lying . . . really."

"I don't like it," Hermione admitted.

"Nor do I, much," Harry agreed.

Venus sighed. "I also don't like it — there are a lot of things that could go wrong."

Ron stood up straight. "Well, I think it's genius. Let's go and tell him."

Back in the smallest bedroom, Harry made the offer, careful to phrase it so as not to give any specific time for the handover of the sword. Venus tried to keep her face neutral.

"I have your word, Harry Potter, that you will give me the sword of Gryffindor if I help you?" Griphook inquired.

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Then shake."

Griphook held out his hand. Harry took it and shook.

"So," Griphook said. "We begin!"

It was like planning to break into the Ministry all over again. They settled to work in the smallest bedroom. It was always semi-dark in there, which was Griphook's preference apparently.

"I have visited the Lestranges' vault only once on the occasion I was told to place inside it the false sword," Griphook told them. "It is one of the most ancient chambers. The oldest Wizarding families store their treasures at the deepest level, where the vaults are largest and best protected . . ."

They remained shut in the small room for hours at a time. Slowly the days stretched into weeks. There was problem after problem to overcome. The biggest one at the moment was that their store of Polyjuice Potion was greatly depleted.

Hermione examined the thick mudlike potion against the lamplight. "There's really only enough left for one of us."

"That'll be enough," Harry responded, who was examining Griphook's hand-drawn map of the deepest passageways.

The other inhabitants of Shell Cottage obviously noticed something was going on. Venus, Haryr, Ron, Penelope, and Hermione only emerged for mealtimes. Nobody asked questions, but Venus could feel all of their eyes on them.

As she spent more and more time with Griphook, Venus started to realize that she didn't like the Goblin at all. He was unexpectedly bloodthirsty — he laughed at the idea of pain in lesser creatures and seemed to enjoy the possibility that they might have to hurt other wizards to reach the Lestranges' vault. Venus could tell that her hatred was shared by the others, but they never discussed it. They needed Griphook.

Griphook ate only grudgingly with the rest of them. Even after his legs had mended, he continued to request trays of food in his room like the still-frail Ollivander. That was until Bill, following an angry outburst from Fleur, went upstairs to tell him that the arrangement could not continued. Griphook joined them at the overcrowded table, although he refused to eat the same food, insisting on eating lumps of raw meat, roots, and various fungi.

Venus was helping Ron, Penelope, and Hermione set the table for dinner that night. Luna and Dean were coming inside, their arms full of driftwood and their hair damp from the rain. Venus was putting goblets down on all of the placemats when Harry came in, carrying two jugs of pumpkin juice.

". . . and if you ever come to our house I'll be able to show you the horn, Daddy wrote to me about it but I haven't seen it yet, because the Death Eaters took me from the Hogwarts Express and I never got home for Christmas," Luna was telling Dean as they relaid the fire.

"Luna, we told you," Hermione called over to her. "That horn exploded. It came from an Erumpent, not a Crumple-Horned Snorkack—"

"No, it was definitely a Snorkack horn. Daddy told me. It will probably have re-formed by now, they mend themselves, you know."

Venus shook her head, a small smile on her face. She loved Luna. Bill then appeared, leading Mr. Ollivander down the stairs. He still looked exceptionally frail and clung to Bill's arm. Bill supported him, carrying a large cuitcase. He was taking Mr. Ollivander to Auntie Muriel's, where he would be safer with the Weasley's and get more care than what was provided here.

Luna approached him. "I'm going to miss you, Mr. Ollivander."

Ollivander patted her on the shoulder. "And I you, my dear. You were an inexpressible comfort to me in that terrible place."

Fleur kissed both of his cheeks after Penelope said goodbye to him. "So, au revoir, Mr. Ollivander. And I wonder whezzer you could oblige me by delivering a package to Bill's Auntie Muriel? I never returned 'er tiara."

Ollivander gave her a little bow. "It will be an honor, the very least I can do in return for your generous hospitality."

Fleur drew out a worn velvet case. She opened it up to reveal a tiara, sitting glittering and twinkling in the light from the low-hanging lamp.

"Moonstones and diamonds," Griphook stated, who had literally just come out of nowhere. "Made by Goblins, I think?"

"And paid for by wizards," Bill added, and Griphook shot him a challenging look.

A strong wind gusted against the cottage windows as Bill and Ollivander set off into the night. The rest of them squeezed in around the table. Elbow to elbow and barely enough room to move, they started to eat. The fire crackled and popped in the grate beside him. Venus noticed that Fleur was merely playing with her food and kept glancing at the window every few minutes. However, Bill had returned before they had finished their first course, his long hair tangled by the wind.

"Everything's fine," Bill said. "Ollivander settled in, Mum and Dad say hello. Ginny sends you all her love. Fred and George are driving Muriel up the wall, they're still operating an Owl-Order business out of her back room. It cheered her up to have her tiara back, though. She said she thought we'd stolen it."

"Ah, she eez charmante, your aunt," Fleur responded crossly, waving her wand to make the dirty plates rise and form a stack in midair, and she caught them and marched out of the room.

"Daddy's made a tiara," Luna voiced. "Well, more of a crown, really." Venus and Harry shared a look, the two of them remembering the strange headdress they had seen at Xenophilius' house. "Yes, he's trying to re-create the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. He thinks he's identified most of the main elements now. Adding the Billywig wings really made a difference—"

There was a bang on the front door. Venus' head whipped towards it. Fleur came running out of the kitchen, looking frightened. Bill jumped to his feet and pointed his wand at the door. Venus, Harry, Ron, Penelope, and Hermione did the same. Griphook silently slipped beneath the table and disappeared out of sight. Venus stared at the door, holding her wand tightly.

"Who is it?" Bill demanded.

"It is I, Remus John Lupin!" a voice shouted over the howling wind. Venus felt her heart stop — what had happened? "I am a Werewolf, married to Nymphadora Tonks, and you, the Secret Keeper of Shell Cottage, told me the address and bade me come in an emergency!"

"Lupin," Bill muttered.

He ran to the door and wrenched it open. Lupin fell over the threshold. He was white-faced, wrapped in a traveling cloak, his graying hair windswept. He straightened up and looked around the room, making sure of who was there.

"It's a boy!" Lupin cried, and Venus' eyes widened. "We've named him Ted, after Dora's father!"

"Wha—?" Hermione shrieked. "Tonks — Tonks has had the baby?"

"Yes, yes, she's had the baby!"

Venus let out a small laugh of amazement, her heart soaring.

"Congratulations!" Venus, Hermione, and Fleur squealed.

"Blimey, a baby!" Ron exclaimed as if he had never heard of such a thing before.

"Yes — yes — a boy," Lupin repeated, who seemed dazed by his own happiness. He strode around the table and hugged Harry — the scene in the basement of Grimmauld Place might never have happened. "You'll be godfather?"

Venus smiled. It was fitting.

"M-Me?" Harry stammered.

"You, yes, of course — Dora quite agrees, no one better—" Lupin stated.

"I — yeah — blimey—"

Lupin then turned to Penelope. "And you, godmother?"

Of course she accepted. Venus felt Harry take her face in his hands and kiss her in celebration. She grinned into it before pulling away, watching as his pretty green eyes twinkled in delight.

Bill was hurrying to fetch wine, and Fleur was persuading Lupin to join them for a drink.

Lupin beamed around at them all, looking quite young. "I can't stay long, I must get back. Thank you, thank you, Bill."

Bill filled all of their goblets with wine. They stood and raised them high in a toast.

"To Teddy Remus Lupin, a great wizard in the making!" Lupin shouted.

"'Oo does 'e look like?" Fleur asked.

"I think he looks like Dora, but she thinks he is like me. Not much hair. It looked black when he was born, but I swear it's turned ginger in the hour since. Probably be blond by the time I get back. Andromeda says Tonks' hair started changing color the day that shewas born." He drained his goblet. "Oh, go on then, just one more."

The wind swept across the little cottage and the fire leapt and crackled. Bill was soon opening another bottle of wine. Lupin's news seemed to have taken them out of themselves and removed them for a while from their state of darkness. Venus could feel herself getting a little loose from the wine she was drinking, but this was acceptable. Lupin and Tonks had a baby, and Harry was godfather!

"No . . . no . . . I really must get back," Lupin said at last, declining another goblet of wine. He got to his feet and put on his traveling cloak. "Good-bye, good-bye — I'll try and bring some pictures in a few days' time — they'll all be so glad to know that I've seen you—"

He fastened his cloak and made his farewells. Then, still beaming, returned into the wild night.

Venus started to help clear the table again. She picked up some empty goblets, the smile never leaving her face. Venus then felt a presence next to her after a minute, and she saw Harry, grinning brightly at her.

"Hey, you," Venus greeted. She then noticed the troubled expression on his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Harry responded. "I just . . . I think I'm going to be just as reckless a godfather to Teddy Lupin as Sirius Black had been to me."

Venus laughed slightly and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Yeah, I believe it."

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this chapter took me so many days to write holy fuck