Chapter Forty-Four:
( luna's father tells the tale )

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

RICKY MAY BE BACK with Spencer, but she has come to realize that he cannot fix everything. Her lack of sleep is damaging and the way nightmares seclude her every night does not just disappear because he is there. Does he help? Yes. It helps that her best friend sleeps beside her and it is that same warm feeling he gives her that makes her feel protected.

Her mind is not the type to depend on one person, however. It has a great complexity that Spencer has not yet figured out how to deal with. Daniel warned her that during these times her brain will be the most helpful and hurtful part of her. Currently, it has been nothing but hurtful. She still does not understand what Dumbledore's watch is meant to represent. The days either get shorter or it somehow develops into years and Spencer is afraid it is referring to when they find all the Horcrux or maybe it is some time limit and when they get to that spot all hope is lost. She does not know! Spencer despises not knowing something that has to be known. That is to say, she understands if there are questions about the universe that cannot be answered because they are difficult to understand and they need better everything (for example, the question about the universe and if there is life after death or if there isn't), but this is something that was given to her. Something she has to figure out without question.

Hope is the worst of evils, for it prolongs the torments of man. Spencer winces as she hears another thought cross her mind. Euler's Identity is Euler's number— the base of natural logarithms with the power of an imaginary unit and pi plus one which equals to zero. Her hands go up to her temples knowing they will not stop. Remembrance of things past is not necessarily the remembrance of things as they were. Candles were originally used to protect the birthday celebrant from demons for the coming year. No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks. Stop. Is it bad that I don't care? She tugs onto her hair wanting the voices to stop. What happened in the past that was painful has a great deal to do with what we are today. Spencer tries to breath normally... she does not understand why they all overlap each other. She hates it because it overwhelms her.

Isn't it amazing what our minds can do?

"No," she whispers under the dark morning light. And with her answer, all the voices quiet down and she is left with only one. Daniel is not with them yet somehow it is like his presence is right beside her. His voice echoes on her mind like a guidance in a dark path. Spencer closes her eyes and finds some comfort in his familiar voice.

I know what it's like to be afraid of your own mind.

"Does it ever stop?" She knows not to speak any louder with all her friends sleeping around her. Perhaps it is better if she heads somewhere else but then someone would hear her shift around. Spencer stays under the warmth of her blanket and gazes toward the entrance of the tent where little light passes through.

In time it gets better, Daniel's voice answers. Soft and gentle just as she remembers it. You don't have to force your mind around, the answers you truly seek will come to you when it is time.

"What if it doesn't?"

You're brilliant by yourself, Spencer. It will. And just remember, by then his voice begins to fade away, I am proud of you.

"I miss you," Spencer murmurs softly as if her message will get to Daniel. She knows it will not. An odd occurrence, but the voice is just a figment of her imagination trying to help her. Perhaps... it is helpful at times. Her eyes wander toward her best friend whose eyes slowly begin to flutter open. She sits back and waits for him to fully awake, crossing her arms across her chest to give herself warmth.

Ricky awakes not too long after and sends her a tired smile. He does not say anything, but she knows he spotted the way her eyes are now watery and how she has been up for some time. Instead, he sits beside her in silence, his hands meeting hers for comfort. A small movement that to Spencer means the whole world.

Later on the day, all five of them sit together. Hermione is still angry with Ron and continues giving him dirty looks and pointed silences while making it clear that she is glad that Ricky returned. In fact, the bushy-haired friend of hers even gave him a long hug as if she missed him more than anyone. Do not get them wrong, all of them missed the two of them deeply— however, they all also knew that Hermione would only have given him a small hug instead (except this time she made her point quite clear to Ron). The other three were left feeling as if they attended a poor funeral. At one point, Harry, Ron, Ricky, and Spencer chose to give Hermione some time to release her anger while they began talking about what they all missed.

Harry and Spencer explained to them of their wandering around the areas and what had occurred at Godric's Hollow that had almost caused Voldemort to find the three of them and possibly head to their deaths. In return, Ron and Ricky filled them in on everything they had discovered about the wider Wizarding World during their weeks away.

"...and how did you find out about the Taboo?" Ron questions Harry and Spencer after explaining the many desperate attempts of Muggle-borns to evade the Ministry.

Spencer shares a look of confusion with Harry and then stares back at Ron and Ricky. "The what?" The two of them ask simultaneously.

Ricky raises his eyebrow in surprise. "What do you mean 'what'? You two have always spoken You-Know-Who's name and explaining it to us now we heard none of it. We thought you two figured it out..." he trails off noticing how his words only seem to make them even more so puzzled.

"Oh, yeah. Well, it's just a bad habit we've slipped into," Harry nods. "But I haven't got a problem calling him V—"

"NO!" roars Ricky and Ron, causing Harry and Spencer to jump into the hedge and Hermione (nose buried in a book at the tent entrance) to scowl over at them. "Sorry," Ron apologizes, wrenching Harry back out of the brambles while Ricky snickers at Spencer's groan, "but the name's been jinxed, Harry, that's how they track people! Using his name breaks protective enchantments, it causes some kind of magical disturbance — it's how they found us in Tottenham Court Road!"

Quickly, without Ricky's help, Spencer fixes herself and gapes at the two of them. "Shit... really? That makes so much sense! And pretty smart of them actually which is surprising..."

Ron nods with his eyes wide. "Exactly! You've got to give them credit, it makes sense. It was only people who were serious about standing up to him, like Dumbledore, who ever dared use it. Now they've put a Taboo on it, anyone who says it is trackable — easy way to find Order members! They nearly got Kingsley—"

"You're kidding?"

Ricky shakes his head and continues, "Yeah, a bunch of Death Eaters cornered him, Bill said, but he fought his way out. He's on the run now, just like us."

Ron scratches his chin thoughtfully with the end of his wand. "You don't reckon Kingsley could have sent that doe?"

Spencer shakes her head at the question and reminds him, "His is a lynx. The one we saw at the wedding."

They move farther along the hedge, away from the tent and Hermione. "You don't reckon it could've been Dumbledore?" Ron brings up hesitantly.

The girl eyes him weirdly. "You mean the dead wizard? Ron, as much as we would love to believe he came back from the dead or never died so he can just tell us what to do... Harry saw him fall, I saw Morgana snap his neck so even if he did survive that curse, Morgana would have killed him either way," she contradicts, making a face as she remembers hearing the snap so clearly and her sister's face. Ron frowns a little embarrassed before nodding in agreement to her words.

"Sometimes I've thought, when I've been a bit hacked off, that Dumbledore was having a laugh or — or he just wanted to make it more difficult. But I don't think so, not anymore. He knew what he was doing when he gave me the Deluminator, didn't he? He — well," Ron's ears turns bright red and he becomes engrossed in a tuft of grass at his feet, which he prods with his toe, "he must've known I'd run out on you."

Spencer smiles at him warmly while Harry shakes his head confidently. "No," Harry corrects him. "He must've known you'd always want to come back."

Ron looked grateful, but still awkward. Partly to change the subject, Harry mentions, "Speaking of Dumbledore, have you heard what Skeeter wrote about him?"

After having some thought, Spencer finally relaxed about Dumbledore and his past (not to say that she likes him, but her anger has faded away knowing it would not help with everything). Does she like it? No. Has he changed? Maybe— she still does not know. Was he young? Yes and no. They are practically the same age now, but everyone grows up in different circumstances and Spencer has barely remembered that. Not everyone is the same. Some people are scared and will do whatever it is to get them out alive, others will fight, ideas will change as one grows. All Spencer truly hopes is that Dumbledore did not change for his own benefit but for everyone else. Though, she still thinks he could have done better in keeping Harry and all of them informed on how to stop Voldemort without giving stupid riddles (and this is coming from a Ravenclaw! Sometimes life doesn't have to be full of riddles!).

"Oh yeah," Ron nods at once, "people are talking about it quite a lot. 'Course, if things were different, it'd be huge news, Dumbledore being pals with Grindelwald, but now it's just something to laugh about for people who didn't like Dumbledore, and a bit of a slap in the face for everyone who thought he was such a good bloke. I don't know that it's such a big deal, though. He was really young when they—"

"Our age," Harry cuts off coldly, just as he had retorted to Hermione, and something in his face seems to decide Ron against pursuing the subject. Ricky makes a nod of agreement toward Harry. Spencer already knows what he is thinking about it despite not saying it aloud. He too is probably hurt and surprised by having trust the man and yet years ago he wanted to do sort of the same as Voldemort wants.

A large spider sits in the middle of a frosted web in the brambles. Harry takes aim at it with the wand Ron had given him the previous night (which Spencer was left to examined and she gave him the details about the wand— which turns out to be made of blackthorn). Who knew that reading about wands would make her some close expert? She might as well take over Ollivander's job instead if he is not found. Though, she truly hopes he is still alive and safe. Or at least well enough to escape one day.

"Engorgio," Harry casts, trying out the wand of his. The spider gives a little shiver, bouncing slightly in the web. Harry tries again. This time the spider grows slightly larger. Ron inhales deeply and clutches onto Spencer's arm out of nowhere. She stares at him curiously before connecting that he must be deadly afraid of spiders.

"Stop that," Ron mutters sharply. "I'm sorry I said Dumbledore was young, okay?"

"Sorry — Reducio." The spider does not shrink. Harry looks down at the blackthorn wand. Every minor spell he has cast with it so far that day has seem less powerful than those he had produced with his phoenix wand. Spencer still cannot believe that her and Hermione had caused his wand to break... it was similars to Voldemort. Though, by the looks of it, both of theirs were not working. Was it the wand that was connected that makes them invulnerable or something else?

Hermione noiselessly approaches them from behind and tells Harry, "You just need to practice." Her voice slight quavers as she then continues, glancing from Spencer to Harry, "It's all a matter of confidence, Harry."

They silenced after that until Hermione calls Spencer over. She waves a little toward her friends before heading beside the girl in her bunk bed. Hermione scoots to the side and shows her the same book that revealed stuff they would have never thought of Dumbledore. Spencer cozies up beside her and stares at her in confusion.

"What is it?" She questions, staring at Hermione's brown eyes. Hermione points to Dumbledore's first name— most specifically, the first letter of the name Albus. Spencer gazes at it for a few seconds before her eyes widen in surprise. There it is again. The mark that they found on the children's book and on the grave about the figure... Spencer throws herself out of Hermione's bed causing her to stumble down and smacks her head straight on the ground.

Hermione gasps in surprise while the boys stand up with their wand out. They simply stare at Spencer not knowing whether to laugh or ask if she is okay. Ricky immediately does the latter and doubles back in laughter. Spencer rubs the back of her head in pain, a small groan coming out of her mouth by how completely stupid she just turned out to be. When she hears her best friend laughing, even without looking at him, she signals him the middle finger which Hermione quickly puts away and helps her up.

"What'd you do that for?" She questions in alarm.

Spencer squints her eyes. "Oh, I don't know... I've been wanting to smash my head on the ground, you see," she responds sarcastically, giving her a light smile afterwards to assure her she is joking with her. Hermione lightly returns it before sitting beside her (okay so maybe she has thought about smashing it on the ground but she did not mean to this time!).

"Anyway," Spencer remembers, "A while back... when we went to Godric's Hollow, you remember that grave? The one with the name Ignotus? I swear I have heard stories about how his brothers are the ones in the tale. It is the one where it mentions the Elder Wand and the two other powerful items."

"I thought these stories were fake?" Hermione frowns unsurely.

Spencer nods at her words. "Precisely! I did too but it can't be a coincidence that it relates to the wand that I tried connecting with Ollivander, right? Just like this mark!"

Hermione hums slightly skeptical and yet optioning to keep her mind open. "I think I know someone who can help..." she stares at her for some time until Spencer realizes who exactly she is talking about. Slowly, Spencer nods in agreement. "Well, whatever it takes to finally get some answers instead of guesses," she agrees.

The two girls head toward Harry and Hermione dramatically orders, "We need to talk." Harry lets his eyes wander to the book she is clutching in her hand. He stares at Ricky and Ron who both shrug their shoulders in confusion not knowing anything except that this might be what Spencer freaked out about and hit her head on the process

"We want to go and see Xenophilius Lovegood," Hermione continues. Harry stares at them blankly as if he did not hear what they said. Both of them know otherwise by the way Ricky tilts his head to the side and Ron gapes at Hermione.

"Sorry?" Harry clears his throat, hoping they will say another answer.

Spencer gives him a firm look. "You heard us. Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna's father," she repeats slower to make an emphasize.

"Er — why?"

Hermione takes a deep breath, as though bracing herself, and continues, "It's that mark, the mark in Beedle the Bard. Look at this!" She thrust The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore under Harry's unwilling eyes and he sees a photograph of the original letter that Dumbledore had written Grindelwald, with Dumbledore's familiar thin, slanting handwriting. "The signature," Hermione points out. "Look at the signature, Harry!"

He obeys. For a moment, Spencer can see how he has no idea what they are talking about, but then his eyes squint and he fixes the glasses she once gave him (as if they were cheap— she knows they are actually the best quality for his eyes) and finally notices. Ron makes a face of confusion, stares at Ricky who shrugs, and then turns back to them. "Er — what are you—?" Ron tried to ask tentatively, but Hermione quells him with a look and turns back to Harry.

"It keeps popping up, doesn't it?" She points out. "I know Viktor said it was Grindelwald's mark, but it was definitely on that old grave in Godric's Hollow, and the dates on the headstone were long before Grindelwald came along! And now this! Well, we can't ask Dumbledore or Grindelwald what it means — I don't even know whether Grindelwald's still alive—"

"I think he is, or was. Maybe V— You-Know-Who went after him too," Spencer cuts in momentarily before letting Hermione continue, "—but we can ask Mr. Lovegood. He was wearing the symbol at the wedding. I'm sure this is important, Harry!"

Harry does not answer immediately. He looks into their intense, eager face and then out into the surrounding darkness, thinking. After a long pause, he replies, "Hermione, we don't need another Godric's Hollow. We talked ourselves into going there, and—"

"But it keeps appearing, Harry! Dumbledore left me The Tales of Beedle the Bard, how do you know we're not supposed to find out about the sign?" Hermione shakes his arm desperately.

"Here we go again!" Harry sounds slightly exasperated. "We keep trying to convince ourselves Dumbledore left us secret signs and clues—"

"The Deluminator turned out to be pretty useful," pipes up Ron. "I think Hermione's right, I think we ought to go and see Lovegood."

Harry throws him a dark look. Ron raises his hand defensively. "It won't be like Godric's Hollow," Ron adds, "Lovegood's on your side, Harry, The Quibbler's been for you all along, it keeps telling everyone they've got to help you!"

Most likely more of Luna's doing than anything, Spencer thinks to herself. She shakes her thoughts away and then continues, "We've got two more to help us, Harry. Six if Luna is there. She has always been on your side and I'm sure her father will help in figuring out something that has been in my head for ages. Sixth-year, Harry! That was a year ago..."

"I think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow? Harry, I'm sure we ought to know about this!" Hermione begs at this point. Ricky furrows his brows indicating his thoughts on the situation before he glances at Spencer. Noticing the slight bright light in her eyes, he nods when Ron clears his throat and announces, "I think we should vote on it. Those in favor of going to see Lovegood —"

Ron's hand flies into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quiver suspiciously as she raises her own. Spencer does it at the same time as Ricky. Ron smiles successfully. "Outvoted, Harry, sorry," Ron remarks, clapping him on the back.

"Fine," Harry agrees, half amused, half irritated. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegoods live, anyway? Do either of you know?"

The redhead nods. "Yeah, they're not far from my place," Ron points. "I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn't be hard to find."

When they have an idea of when to leave, everyone began heading either to their bed or to whisper among each other. Ricky lies beside Spencer as always and watches her fingers fiddle with her necklace. He notices that she purposely avoids the stone while at it. A reminder hits his mind immediately, but before he can speak anything about it, he hears a quiet snore from the side. Ricky glances at his best friend and smiles lightly when he spots how her finger touched the stone and immediately another soft glow is what set her off to sleep. Her head falls onto his shoulder, and the two fall asleep on each other's arm.

.･:*:･ﾟ'✫,'✫'ﾟ･:*:･˙

SPENCER NEVER HAD A home when she lived in the manor. It was huge, empty, quiet. She hates her manor more than any other place. That is where she grew up and yet she loathes it. Her parents never cared for her, Morgana shut her out, her Aunt Mordra killed someone there. Spencer herself had been tortured within the walls so no, it was never a home. However, the Burrow is somewhere she likes to consider her home. Surely, it is the Weasleys more than anyone's, but that is where she found her family. Where she received love and affection more than any place. Anyone she has grown to love has visited the place as well— even Theodore and Blaise!

They are not at the Burrow, but they have an excellent view of the village of Ottery St. Catchpole from the breezy hillside to which they Disapparated in the morning. From their high vantage point the village looks like a collection of toy houses in the great slanting shafts of sunlight stretching to earth in the breaks between clouds. They stand for a minute or two looking toward the Burrow, their hands shadowing their eyes, but all they can make out are the high hedges and trees of the orchard, which afforded the crooked little house protection from Muggle eyes.

"It's weird, being this near, but not going to visit," Ron sighs, frowning at how close they are to his home and yet not there.

Hermione scoffs loudly. "Well, it's not like you haven't just seen them. You were there for Christmas," Hermione snaps coldly.

"We weren't at the Burrow!" Ron exclaims with an incredulous laugh. "Do you think I was going to go back there and tell them all I'd walked out on you? Ricky almost forced me to go because I was being an idiot, but yeah, Fred and George would've been great about it. And Ginny, she'd have been really understanding..."

Spencer widens her eyes in surprise. "Where'd you go then?"

Remembering what he was going to tell her last night, Ricky steps in and answers, "Bill and Fleur's new place! Shell Cottage. According to Ron, Bill wouldn't rat him out on him leaving, and he didn't. No other Weasley except him knew about it. Well, we did almost see Daniel, however. He was suppose to visit to check on them, but he was held back because since wizard profilers aren't the Ministry's property or business, Daniel had been withheld with his coworkers for their safety until days later. We were already gone though."

The young Montague brightens up at the mention of her brother, but then a small frown grew on her lips. Daniel had been in harm's way because of how profilers do not answer directly to the Ministry but different authorities. Hopefully, he is not harmed.

Ron turns his back on the Burrow after gazing it for a few moments. "Let's try up here," he clears his throat and starts leading the way over the top of the hill. They walk for a few hours, Harry, at Hermione's insistence, hiding beneath the Invisibility Cloak. The cluster of low hills appears to be uninhabited apart from one small cottage, which seems deserted.

"Do you think it's theirs, and they've gone away for Christmas?" Hermione questions, peering through the window at a neat little kitchen with geraniums on the windowsill. Ron snorts. "Listen, I've got a feeling you'd be able to tell who lived there if you looked through the Lovegoods' window. Let's try the next lot of hills."

Spencer smiles fondly. "You're not wrong," she remarks before Disapparating with the rest a few miles farther north.

"Aha!" Ron shouts, as the wind whips their hair and clothes. Ron is pointing upward, toward the top of the hill on which have appeared, where a most strange-looking house rose vertically against the sky, a great black cylinder with a ghostly moon hanging behind it in the afternoon sky. "That's got to be Luna's house, who else would live in a place like that? It looks like a giant rook!"

Hermione makes a face while Spencer shrugs in agreement. "It's nothing like a bird," Hermione denies, frowning at the tower.

"I was talking about a chess rook," Ron corrects. "A castle to you." Ron's legs are the longest (it's that Weasley gene that makes him taller than Spencer) and he reaches the top of the hill first. Ricky follows along second. When the rest of them catch up with them, panting and clutching stitches in their sides, they find them grinning broadly.

"Now this just proves you guys really did travel along and became healthier than the three of us combined," Spencer groans, leaning slightly toward Ricky.

"It's theirs," Ron points. "Look."

Three hand-painted signs are tacked to a broken-down gate. The first read, THE QUIBBLER EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD, the second, PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE, the third, KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS. The gate creaks as they open it. The zigzagging path leading to the front door is overgrown with a variety of odd plants, including a bush covered in the orange radishlike fruit Luna sometimes wears as earrings. Spencer softens her gaze realizing how much she misses hearing Luna's odd thoughts and rambles. The blonde girl truly is a wonder to the world and she always somehow finds a way to lift Spencer's spirit. It feels like a crime to be frowning around her.

             Two aged crab apple trees, bent with the wind, strips of leaves but still heavy with berry-sized red fruits and bushy crowns of white-beaded mistletoe, stands sentinel on either side of the front door. A little owl with a slightly flattened, hawklike head peers down at them from one of the branches.

"You'd better take off the Invisibility Cloak, Harry," Hermione warns. "It's you Mr. Lovegood wants to help, not us."

He does as she suggests, handing her the Cloak to stow in the beaded bag. She then taps three times on the thick black door, which is studded with iron nails and bore a knocker shaped like an eagle. Barely ten seconds passes, then the door is flung open and there stands Xenophilius Lovegood, barefoot and wearing what appears to be a stained nightshirt. His long white candyfloss hair is dirty and unkempt.

"What? What is it? Who are you? What do you want?" He cries in a high-pitched, querulous voice, looking first at Hermione, then at Ron, Spencer, Ricky, and finally at Harry, upon which his mouth falls open in a perfect, comical 'O'.

"Hello, Mr. Lovegood," Harry greets kindly, holding out his hand. "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."

Xenophilius does not take Harry's hand, although the eye that is not pointing inward at his nose slides straight to the scar on Harry's forehead. Spencer eyes the house curiously and finds it slightly comforting that Luna's odd habits are also inspired around the house as well. She wonders if she is inside. Spencer hopes she is.

"Would it be okay if we came in?" Harry asks. "There's something we'd like to ask you."

"I... I'm not sure that's advisable," whispers Xenophilius. He swallows and casts a quick look around the garden. "Rather a shock... My word... I-I'm afraid I don't really think I ought to—"

Spencer narrows her eyes curiously. One would think he would be more excited to get his papers printed— or maybe just excited in general that the Harry Potter is in front of him. If Luna is there... why hasn't she made an appearance?

"It won't take long," Harry reassures, slightly disappointed by this less-than-warm welcome.

"I — oh, all right then. Come in, quickly!"

They are barely over the threshold when Xenophilius slams the door shut behind them. They are standing in the most peculiar kitchen Spencer has ever seen. The room is perfectly circular, so that it felt like being inside a giant pepper pot. Everything is curved to fit the walls — the stove, the sink, and the cupboards — and all of it has been painted with flowers, insects, and birds in bright primary colors. The effect, in such an enclosed space, is slightly overwhelming. In the middle of the floor, a wrought-iron spiral staircase leads to the upper levels. There is a great deal of clattering and banging coming from overhead: is that what Luna is doing?

"You'd better come up," Xenophilius mutters, still looking extremely uncomfortable, and he leads the way. The room above seems to be a combination of living room and workplace, and as such, is even more cluttered than the kitchen. There are piles upon piles of books and papers on every surface. Delicately made models of creatures all flapping wings or snapping jaws, hung from the ceiling.

Luna is not there: The thing that is making such a racket is a wooden object covered in magically turning cogs and wheels. It looks like the bizarre offspring of a workbench and a set of old shelves, but after a moment Spencer deduces that it is an old- fashioned printing press, due to the fact that it was churning out Quibblers.

"Excuse me," Xenophilius clears his throat, and he strides over to the machine, seizes a grubby tablecloth from beneath an immense number of books and papers, which all tumbled onto the floor, and threw it over the press, somewhat muffling the loud bangs and clatters. He then faces Harry.

"Why have you come here?"

Spencer frowns not liking how Luna is not present when for the remaining years she has always gone home for Christmas. She knows best since Ricky and her sat next to the bubbly blonde girl for years and when Professor Flitwick would ask who is staying and who is going, Luna's answer was always: she is going..

"Sir," she interrupts before Harry can start talking. "I can't help but ask where Luna is? I'm— well, we're all friends with her. I'm Spencer."

The odd-looking man raises his eyebrows in familiarity before nodding. "Yes, yes, Luna spo— speaks fondly of you. Her friends that are on Ravenclaw. Spencer and Ricky," he murmurs softly.

Spencer makes sure to keep the same polite smile as she nods. "Yes, so, where is she? She always comes home, doesn't she?" Ricky sends her a look warning her that Harry wanted to get his questionnaire done with, but Spencer just wants to see someone who is not them. Just to get a peek that humanity still exists.

"Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies," the man answers almost stiffly. Spencer furrows her brows before accepting the answer when Harry gently holds her hand.

The attention divers back to him. "We need some help," Harry starts, glancing around at the house once more.

"Ah," Xenophilius nods. "Help. Hmm." His good eye moves again to Harry's scar. He seems simultaneously terrified and mesmerized. "Yes. The thing is... helping Harry Potter... rather dangerous..."

"Aren't you the one who keeps telling everyone it's their first duty to help Harry?" Ron glares at him. "In that magazine of yours?"

Xenophilius glances behind him at the concealed printing press, still banging and clattering beneath the tablecloth. "Er — yes, I have expressed that view. However—"

"That's for everyone else to do, not you personally?" Ron snarks back smartly. Xenophilius does not answer. He keeps swallowing, his eyes darting between the five of them. Spencer leans toward Ricky and whispers, "This doesn't feel right..."

He leans closer. "I wouldn't let my daughter go out to the streams if I was this paranoid," Ricky points out in the same tone.

"Why don't you get Luna? Let's see what she thinks," Hermione huffs proudly, knowing deeply that Luna would do anything to help them just like how she had in the Department of Mysteries.

Xenophilius gulps. He seems to be steeling himself. Finally he says in a shaky voice difficult to hear over the noise of the printing press, "She... she will like to see you. I'll go and call her and then — yes, very well. I shall try to help you." He disappears down the spiral staircase and they hear the front door open and close. They look at each other.

"Cowardly old wart," Ron scoffs. "Luna's got ten times his guts."

Harry frowns slightly. "He's probably worried about what'll happen to them if the Death Eaters find out I was here," he defends him.

"Maybe... I find it odd though. If he is paranoid, then why did he allow Luna to go out to the streams? I wouldn't even let my child out of sight," Ricky mutters quietly, making sure his voice is low enough to not be heard.

All five of them silence as they take a look around the area. Ron had been right. The Burrow is not too far from where Luna lives. Currently, they are very high up to the point where birds flutter pst the window. She can see the familiar house mocking her with the spirits that Fred and George are there along with Ginny. Spencer wonders if Daniel has visited them as well or if he still at Bill and Fleur's place. She sighs softly before her eyes follow to where Harry is gazing at. A stone bust of a beautiful but austere-looking witch wearing a most bizarre-looking headdress. There are two objects that resembles golden ear trumpets curved out from the sides. A tiny pair of glittering blue wings is stuck to a leather strap that ran over the top of her head, while one of the orange radishes is stuck to a second strap around her forehead. Spencer immediately knows it is the statue of her house founder. Rowena Ravenclaw.

"Look at this," Harry raises his eyebrows while calling for everyone else.

Ron snorts amusingly. "Fetching," he gathers. "Surprised he didn't wear that to the wedding."

They hear the front door close, and a moment later Xenophilius climbs back up the spiral staircase into the room, his thin legs now encased in Wellington boots, bearing a tray of ill-assorted teacups and a steaming teapot.

"Ah, you have spotted my pet invention," he said, shoving the tray into Hermione's arms and joining Harry at the statue's side. "Modeled, fittingly enough, upon the head of the beautiful Rowena Ravenclaw."

"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure'," Spencer murmurs. Luna's father stares at her in shock before pointing at her as if she guessed the correct answer. She did not guess, she just simply knows her own house. Then, he indicates the objects that are like ear trumpets.

"These are the Wrackspurt siphons — to remove all sources of distraction from the thinker's immediate area. Here," he points out the tiny wings, "a billywig propeller, to induce an elevated frame of mind. Finally," he points to the orange radish, "the Dirigible Plum, so as to enhance the ability to accept the extraordinary." Xenophilius strides back to the tea tray, which Hermione has managed to balance precariously on one of the cluttered side tables.

"May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots?" Xenophilius asks. "We make it ourselves." As he starts to pour out the drink, which is as deeply purple as beetroot juice, he adds, "Luna is down beyond Bottom Bridge, she is most excited that you are here. She ought not to be too long, she has caught nearly enough Plimpies to make soup for all of us. Do sit down and help yourselves to sugar. Now," he removes a tottering pile of papers from an armchair and sits down, his Wellingtoned legs crossed, "how may I help you, Mr. Potter?"

"Well," Harry begins, glancing at Hermione, who nods encouragingly, "it's about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Mr. Lovegood. We wondered what it meant."

Xenophilius raises his eyebrows. "Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?"

Spencer blinks and all of her numerous thoughts silence completely dead. That sounds more like a cult than anything else. There is a chance she may have heard of it long time ago— let's remember she has an eidetic memory and that usually concludes photographic tendencies, although, there is something about her that makes her remember what people say. It depends on the circumstances, however. Some words are easier to stand out than others. The Deathly Hallows? It feels like she should know it, but she does not.

Harry turns to stare at the four wondering if they have heard of it. Ricky raises his hand defensively. "Mate, I'm not the one with an eidetic memory," he reminds them. When they turn to Spencer, she simply stares at the older man curiously.

"Where does the term come from?" Spencer questions, patiently waiting for the man to continue.

"You haven't heard of them? I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young man at your brother's wedding," he nods at Ron, "who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows — at least, not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest." He stirs several lumps of sugar into his Gurdyroot infusion and drank some.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologizes. "We still don't really understand."

To be polite, he takes a sip from his cup too, and almost gags. Spencer grimaces slightly and places down her cup beside her. Somehow, not even the loss of food over the days can try to please her into taking this drink. As much as she loves Luna, she is slightly wary of her father.

"Well, you see, believers seek the Deathly Hallows," Xenophilius continues, smacking his lips in apparent appreciation of the Gurdyroot infusion. Xenophilius set aside his empty teacup. "I assume that you are all familiar with 'The Tale of the Three
Brothers'?"

Spencer smacks Ricky's arms in triumph. Her best friend hisses in pain and swaps her hand away. "I knew it!" She receives odd looks from everyone else. "The story! You know— sorry, go on, Mister Lovegood," she turns into a light shade of red in embarrassment when the older man appears taken back. Spencer shifts in her seat finally getting to hear what the story that has been on her mind has to do with all of this. Maybe a part of her mind can rest knowing they are getting further into the point.

"Right, well, the whole thing starts with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'... have a copy somewhere..." He glances vaguely around the room, at the piles of parchment and books, but Hermione interrupts, "I've got a copy, Mr. Lovegood, I've got it right here." And she pulls out The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the small, beaded bag.

"The original?" inquires Xenophilius sharply, and when she nods, he tells her, "Well then, why don't you read it aloud? Much the best way to make sure we all understand."

"Er... all right," Hermione coughs nervously. She opens the book, and they spot the symbol they are investigating headed the top of the page as she gives another little cough, and begins to read. "'There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them —'"

"Sorry," interjects Harry, "but Death spoke to them?"

Ricky stares at his former crush in bewilderment. "Harry... are you alright? Do you have a hearing problem? Truly, I'm worried about your mind," her best friend quietly jokes. Harry sends him an offended look and then tells Hermione to continue along.

"— He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him. So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother," Hermione continues reading, briefly glancing up when she notices Spencer mumble the words to herself. The young Montague lifts up her hand toward herself and puts up one finger. The Elder Wand... the one she had lost sleep over back at Hogwarts.

"'Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead," the Gryffindor reads aloud. Spencer puts up another finger up while mumbling the Resurrection Stone and she seems to realize the answer before any of them. Her eyes fall upon Luna's father only to see him continuously glance around like if he is waiting for something. She wants to ask him what is wrong or if she is right, but it will only interrupt Hermione in the process so she decides against not to.

"'And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility," Hermione continues on. Spencer glances toward Harry knowing he had one. Imagine if it is the same one? Actually, the grave that they saw at Godric's Hollow may actually show some connection to the Potters. It is Harry's Cloak that makes her believe the items exist but she had no idea they were called the Deathly Hallows.

"'Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination. The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible. That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat. And so Death took the first brother for his own," Hermione stops momentarily to clear her throat, "Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.'"

Spencer crosses her arms and leans back. She has to give props to the youngest brother. He chose the best item from the three, in her own opinion. Wait! Voldemort wants the Elder wand which is why he has Ollivander and Gregoverich in the first place... she has no idea why some stupid misogynistic and prejudice people choose to want the items that gives them more power rather than stealth and intelligence if used well.

"'And so Death took the second brother for his own. But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life.'" Hermione closes the book. It is a moment or two before Xenophilius seems to realize that she has stopped reading, then he withdrew his gaze from the window and tells her, "Well, there you are."

"Sorry?" Hermione asks, sounding confused.

Spencer steps in immediate. "The Deathly Hallows," she breathes out in awe. And then her eyebrows scrunch up. "But the mark...?"

Xenophilius picks up a quill from a packed table at his elbow and pulls a torn piece of parchment between more books. "The Elder Wand," he starts, and he draws a straight vertical line upon the parchment. "The Resurrection Stone," he continues, and he adds a circle on top of the line. "The Cloak of Invisibility," he finishes, enclosing both line and circle in a triangle, to make the symbol that so intrigues them.

"The Deathly Hallows," Ricky repeats in the same tone as Spencer.

Hermione shakes her head. "But there is no mention of those three words!"

"Well, of course not," Xenophilius scoffs, maddeningly smug. "That is a children's tale, told to amuse rather than to instruct. Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death."

There is a short silence in which Xenophilius glances out of the window. Already the sun is low in the sky. "Luna ought to have enough Plimpies soon," he mentions quietly.

"When you say 'master of Death' —" Ron begins.

"Master," Xenophilius nods, waving an airy hand. "Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer."

"But then... do you mean..." says Hermione slowly, and Spencer can tell that she is trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of her voice, "that you believe these objects — these Hallows — actually exist?"

Spencer laughs for a few seconds before realizing that she is serious. "What do you mean, Hermione? You can't be serious... there's a reason for—"

"Not right here," Harry coughs out. Xenophilius raises his eyebrows at Hermione. The bushy-haired girl glares at Spencer for a few seconds keeping the same skepticism. "Mr. Lovegood, how can you possibly believe — ?"

"Luna has told me all about you, young lady," Xenophilius tells her. "You are, I gather, not unintelligent, but painfully limited. Narrow. Close-minded."

Hermione appears offended by his words, especially when Spencer makes a face to show slight agreement. "I mean— I love you, Hermione..."

The girl ignores her words and tries saying, "We all know that there are such things as Invisibility Cloaks. They are rare, but they exist. But—"

"Ah, but the Third Hallow is a true Cloak of Invisibility, Miss Granger! I mean to say, it is not a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, or carrying a Bedazzling Hex, or else woven from Demiguise hair, which will hide one initially but fade with the years until it turns opaque. We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Miss Granger?"

The five of them share a look knowing it is best not to reveal that Harry has one just as that. Hermione opens her mouth to answer, then closes it again, looking more confused than ever. She, Harry, and Ron glance at one another. Ricky instead stares at Spencer, mentally having a conversation before he nods in understanding knowing that what Luna's father has said is something that Spencer believes in.

"Exactly," Xenophilius points, as if he has defeated them all in reasoned argument. "None of you have ever seen such a thing. The possessor would be immeasurably rich, would he not?" He glances out of the window again. The sky is now tinged with the faintest trace of pink. Spencer still does not understand the man. He is acting odd but she does not want to assume anything since this is Luna's father. Where is she either way?

"All right," Hermione mutters, disconcerted. "Say the Cloak existed... what about the stone, Mr. Lovegood? The thing you call the Resurrection Stone?"

"What of it?"

"Well, how can that be real?"

"Prove that it is not," Xenophilius huffs. Spencer raises her eyebrow amused. She has to admit, odd or not, Luna's father has a point. The young Montague is a lover of facts, but she is open to new ideas. If she was not, then how will the world improve? People have to believe in ideas even if they are not yet proven. Especially those that are not proven to not be real.

Hermione does not seem to agree. "But that's — I'm sorry, but that's completely ridiculous! How can I possibly prove it doesn't exist? Do you expect me to get hold of — of all the pebbles in the world and test them? I mean, you could claim that anything's real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist!"

"Is that not the point of how theorems get to and expanding our mind? Ever heard of a hypothesis and being the first to find something exists?" Ricky defends the older man, apparently having the same thought process as Spencer.

"So the Elder Wand," Harry interrupts quickly, before any of them can start to have a debate then and there, "you think that exists too?"

"Yes!" Spencer exclaims loudly, waving her hand around as if that is not what she has been saying for the past year. Harry sends her an apologetic glance.

"Oh, well, in that case there is endless evidence," Xenophilius nods. "The Elder Wand is the Hallow that is most easily traced, because of the way in which it passes from hand to hand."

"Which is what?" asks Harry.

"Which is that the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner, if he is to be truly master of it," Xenophilius responds. "Surely you have heard of the way the wand came to Egbert the Egregious, after his slaughter of Emeric the Evil? Of how Godelot died in his own cellar after his son, Hereward, took the wand from him? Of the dreadful Loxias, who took the wand from Barnabas Deverill, whom he had killed? The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history."

Ron takes their attention away with his own question. "So where do you think the Elder Wand is now?"

"Alas, who knows?" Xenophilius shrugs, as he gazes out of the window. "Who knows where the Elder Wand lies hidden? The trail goes cold with Arcus and Livius. Who can say which of them really defeated Loxias, and which took the wand? And who can say who may have defeated them? History, alas, does not tell us."

There is a pause. Finally, Hermione asks stiffly, "Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?"

Xenophilius looks taken aback. "But you have been misleading me, young woman!" Xenophilius gasps, now sitting up much straighter in his chair and goggling at Hermione. "I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many of us Questers believe that the Peverells have everything — everything! — to do with the Hallows!"

"Who are the Peverells?" asks Ron.

"That was the name on the grave with the mark on it, in Godric's Hollow," Hermione tells him, still watching Xenophilius. "Ignotus Peverell."

"Exactly!" Xenophilius agrees, his forefinger raised pedantically. "The sign of the Deathly Hallows on Ignotus's grave is conclusive proof!"

"Of what?" Ricky questions.

"Why, that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!" With another glance at the window he got to his feet, picks up the tray, and heads for the spiral staircase.

"You will stay for dinner?" he calls, as he vanishes downstairs again. "Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimpy soup."

"Probably to show the Poisoning Department at St. Mungo's," mutters Ron under his breath. Harry waits until they could hear Xenophilius moving about in the kitchen downstairs before speaking.

"What do you think?" he asks the four of them.

Spencer glares at him. "I'm starting to believe I'm not speaking English," she snaps, tired of how much they are ignoring her. Ricky squeezes her hand comfortingly. "How many times have I brought up the Elder Wand? I'm telling you You-Know-Who probably kidnapped Ollivander for this reason!"

"It just can't be what the sign is about," Hermione shakes her head.

Spencer stands up in frustration almost willing to throw her whole body off the house and hope to land in the ground and awake into another universe because of how they are ignoring her words.

Ricky widens his eyes and pulls her forward. Noticing the look on her eye and the way she grabs her head a few seconds later, he clears his throat and tells Harry firmly, "I believe it. Come on... Magic is real. You're telling me you don't believe that Harry's Cloak exist or have we been living in a different world than all of you?"

"The Cloak is different—"

"Hermione, listen to yourself," Ricky turns to the Gryffindor girl. "We can make pigs fly when that was a saying our parents said was impossible!"

"Okay, okay, let's stop arguing," Harry raises his hand up to calm everyone down. Spencer glares at Hermione, her arms crossed in defiance. "No fighting, I'm tired of that shit, okay? It's what makes us weaker," Harry snaps at them.

At his honest words, Spencer softens her gaze and turns away. She supposes that he is correct. That does not mean she is not exhausted at how only Ricky seems to be on her side. Harry appears adamant to both ideas, clearly conflicted himself, but Ron would blindly listen to Hermione. She keeps her mouth shut for the meantime while they go on about superstitions.

Just when she thinks her mind did no disappoint her, her friends do not even believe her, Spencer walks around the area to get her mind off what just happened. Or perhaps to dwell on it more. Her mind is it's own authority for some reason. She gives a small smile to Ricky before staring at the odd items Luna's father has around. The smell from the kitchen is getting stronger: It is something like burning underpants. Spencer feels the need to throw up just by smelling it. She hates to think about it, but food has become something unusual to her despite still eating something every day. It just is not the same. To them food became scarce unless they used the Cloak to wander to some supermarket or if they find berries or fishes. Other than that, they were left with crumbs. She hates to think that if they ever return to normality, they will have problems eating or getting back in shape.

Spencer blinks in confusion when she finds herself reaching the spiral stairs. Taking a small glance at her friends and noticing them still on with the topic of the three items, Spencer begins to head to the next level. Her eyes smoothly stare around when she spots Harry's face up on the ceiling. It does not take her long to realize it is a drawing of him. Around the area, she notices a drawing of her beside Ricky with an unusual bright smile on her face. Harry, her, and Ricky are not the only ones drawn. Luna has decorated her bedroom ceiling with eight beautifully painted faces: Spencer, Ricky, Theodore, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville. Around them is what appears like gold chains, but as Spencer squints her eyes to check (oh she is truly hoping she will not need glasses but it gets harder to believe each day) she realizes it says 'friends'.

Her eyes stay on Theo's face and her heart aches. Spencer misses him dearly as well. She truly hopes he is safe among Blaise's mother. It warms her that Luna thought of him as a friend because of all those times he would converse with her when they sat together.

Luna Lovegood is an angel to this gloomy world. Spencer hopes she comes back from the stream faster— wait a minute... her nose twitches slightly before she sneezes. Dust... From all the time Spencer has known Luna, that girl loves to have everything around her completely sparkly and odd compared to others. Dust means someone has not cleaned. That a person is taking longer in even being on the room. Her eyes wander to the bed. It is cold and unfriendly. Unfriendly... Spencer backs away in worry.

She keeps one hand where her wand is before returning back to her friends with a small sprint. They all look her way in surprise. Though, she does not stare at them but rather Luna's father who is standing with only six bowls. Six not seven.

"Where is she, Mr. Lovegood?" Spencer questions once more, heading closer to Ricky by the second.

Hermione gazes at her in concern, the memory of their argument long gone from her eyes. "What's wrong, Spence?"

Xenophilius halts at a step. "I-I already told you. She is down at Bottom Bridge."

Harry takes notice of what Spencer realizes and he narrows his eyes with the same defensive tone as he asks, "Then why do you only have six bowls?"

Xenophilius tries to speak, but no sound comes out. The only noise is the continued chugging of the printing press, and a slight rattle from the tray as Xenophilius's hands shake. Harry notices Spencer's frightened expression from whatever she saw upstairs and glares at the man in realization.

"I don't think Luna's been here for weeks," Harry starts off slow. Spencer slowly nods in agreement and adds, "Her clothes are gone, her bed hasn't been slept in. Where is she? And why do you keep looking out of the window?"

Xenophilius drops the tray: The bowls bounces and smashes. Immediately, all five of them draw out their wands. Xenophilius freezes, his hand about to enter his pocket. At that moment, the printing press gives a huge bang and numerous Quibblers came streaming across the floor from underneath the tablecloth; the press falls silent at last. Hermione stoops down and picks up one of the magazines, her wand still pointing at Mr. Lovegood.

"Harry, look at this."

He strides over to her as quickly as he can through all the clutter. The front of The Quibbler carries his own picture, emblazoned with the words Undesirable Number One and captioned with the reward money.

"The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then?" Harry asks coldly, his mind working very fast. "Is that what you were doing when you went into the garden, Mr. Lovegood? Sending an owl to the Ministry?"

Xenophilius licks his lips. Spencer knows she will not like his next words. Luna always talked fondly about her father and she would never miss Christmas when her mother is dead. She is correct. "They took my Luna," he whispers. "Because of what I've been writing. They took my Luna and I don't know where she is, what they've done to her. But they might give her back to me if I — if I —"

"Hand over Harry?" Hermione finishes for him. Even at this point, Spencer cannot have it in her heart to hate him. She is livid he wanted to hand them over, but Luna...

"No deal," Ron scoffs flatly. "Get out of the way, we're leaving."

Xenophilius looks ghastly, a century old, his lips drawn back into a dreadful leer. "They will be here at any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave." He spreads his arms in front of the staircase.

"Don't make us hurt you," Harry warns. "Get out of the way, Mr. Lovegood."

And then, Hermione screams: "HARRY!"

Figures on broomsticks are flying past the windows. As the five of them look away from him, Xenophilius draws his wand. Harry realizes their mistake just in time: He launches himself sideways, shoving his friend's out of harm's way as Xenophilius's Stunning Spell soars across the room and hits the Erumpent horn. There is a colossal explosion. The sound of it seems to blow the room apart: Fragments of wood and paper and rubble flies in all directions, along with an impenetrable cloud of thick white dust.

Spencer holds onto her wand right as she feels herself get thrown off into the air before crashing onto the floor. She can hear her friend's yell and weakly, she starts raising herself up. The dust, however, bothers her from breathing correctly and her vision has been ambushed by whatever white substance fell around the area. The house of the Lovegoods completely ruined by then because of the Erumpent horn the older man had. She only stops groaning in pain when she barely spots Hermione's finger pressed to her lips. Spencer hears why her friend orders them to be quiet.

The door downstairs crashes open. "Didn't I tell you there was no need to hurry, Travers?" asks a rough voice. "Didn't I tell you this nutter was just raving as usual?"

There is a bang and a scream of pain from Xenophilius. Spencer winces slightly and her eyes fall on Ricky who closes his eyes as if that will help him not hear. "No... no... upstairs... Potter!"

"I told you last week, Lovegood, we weren't coming back for anything less than some solid information! Remember last week? When you wanted to swap your daughter for that stupid bleeding head-dress? And the week before" — another bang, another squeal — "when you thought we'd give her back if you offered us proof there are Crumple" — bang — "Headed" — bang — "Snorkacks?"

"No — no — I beg you!" sobs Xenophilius. "It really is Potter! Really!"

"And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!" roars the Death Eater, and there is a volley of bangs interspersed with squeals of agony from Xenophilius.

"The place looks like it's about to fall in, Selwyn," says a cool second voice, echoing up the mangled staircase. "The stairs are completely blocked. Could try clearing it? Might bring the place down."

"You lying piece of filth," shouts the wizard named Selwyn. "You've never seen Potter in your life, have you? Thought you'd lure us here to kill us, did you? And you think you'll get your girl back like this?"

"I swear... I swear... Potter's upstairs!"

"Homenum revelio," casts the voice at the foot of the stairs. Spencer grimaces knowing they have been caught. Shit, she curses internally. That spell will alert them that they are there. She hears Hermione and Ricky gasp knowing what the spell does. Then, she feels something low occurring toward her, immersing her body in its shadow.

"There's someone up there all right, Selwyn," says the second man sharply.

"It's Potter, I tell you, it's Potter!" sobs Xenophilius. "Please... please... give me Luna, just let me have Luna..."

"You can have your little girl, Lovegood," Selwyn starts, "if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter. But if this is a plot, if it's a trick, if you've got an accomplice waiting up there to ambush us, we'll see if we can spare a bit of your daughter for you to bury."

Spencer forces down a gasp. No, not Luna, she repeats in her head desperately. And yet she does not want Harry to be caught. Xenophilius gives a wail of fear and despair. There are scurryings and scrapings: Xenophilius is trying to get through the debris on the stairs.

"Come on," Harry whispers, "we've got to get out of here."

He starts to dig himself out under cover of all the noise Xenophilius was making on the staircase. Ron is buried deepest: Harry and Ricky climbs, as quietly as they can, over all the wreckage to where he lies, trying to prise a heavy chest of drawers off his legs. While Xenophilius's banging and scraping drew nearer and nearer, Ricky manages to free Ron with the use of a Hover Charm.

"All right," breathes Hermione, as the broken printing press blocking the top of the stairs begins to tremble; Xenophilius is feet away from them. She is still white with dust. "Do you trust me, Harry?"

Harry nods.

"Okay then," Hermione whispers, "give me the Invisibility Cloak. Ron, you're going to put it on."

"Me? But Harry —"

Oh, you brilliant woman, Spencer realizes, giving Hermione a nod in understanding as she whispers to Ricky to use the charm that Blaise and her used ages ago. He does as she requests. "Harry, hold on tight to my hand, Ron, grab my shoulder," Hermione orders to the boys.

While Ricky holds onto Spencer's shoulder, she holds Harry's with her right hand despite it being her dominant hand which she uses her wand with. Instead, she takes her wand on her left hand and points it toward the entrance they will come out of. The printing press blocking the stairs is vibrating: Xenophilius was is to shift it using a Hover Charm.

"Hold tight," Hermione whispers. "Hold tight... Spencer, you know what to do, right?" When Spencer gives her a nod of reassurance, Hermione lets out a shaky breath and mumbles, "Any second now..."

Xenophilius's paper-white face appears over the top of the sideboard. Hermione points her wand right at him with total amount of confidence casts, "Obliviate!"

While she does that, Spencer points her own at the floor beneath them and with a surprising perfect movement (coming from her left hand) she cries out, "Deprimo!"

Spencer blasts a hole in the sitting room floor. They all fall like boulders, Harry still holding onto her hand for dear life, Ricky's hand gripping onto her shoulder tightly. There is a scream from below, and she glimpses two men trying to get out of the way as vast quantities of rubble and broken furniture rained all around them from the shattered ceiling. Hermione twists in midair and the thundering of the collapsing house rang in their ears as she dragged them once more into darkness.

(And despite being sold by Xenophilius Lovegood, Spencer cannot help but pity him and worry for his daughter— for Luna is her friend and she cannot bare to lose her).

▂✫⌒*･ﾟ

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
spencer is tired of their shit lol she's been
trying to tell them about the wand and
they're like "yeah but no"

also, yes you know what is coming in
next week 😁🙏