Summary:And so we begin the third year of Hazel Potter's education at Hogwarts, and all the bullshit that goes along with it. Spoiler: there's a lot of it.
Special thanks to HourlyLawyer and EclipsianMaiden for their assistance in kicking this mess into shape!
Chapter 1: An Early SummerChapter Text
Many thanks to RavenclawGreen28 for the lovely cover!
Another summer had descended upon England, just as hot and boring as the last bunch of them. Privet Drive was no different, with lawns browning in the heat despite the surreptitious efforts of its inhabitants to keep their grass watered at night. Number 4, occupied by the Dursley family, happened to stand out in that it had a lush green lawn which the big, beefy Vernon took great pride in mowing twice a week. "Lovely sunshine!" he would crow to the neighbors as he sweated over the mower, "simply lovely! Petunia and I are headed for Majorca this fall!"
Vernon loved to brag about Majorca, and the vacation home he had bought after pulling off a huge business deal with the wealthy developer Mr Mason. He also loved to brag about his son Dudley, who was getting to be just as big and burly as his father even at the age of 13; he bragged about his son's physical accomplishments, yet hastily changed the subject when it shifted to Dudley's academic performance.
But there was one thing in his life he didn't brag about, one thing he in fact preferred to ignore, and that was his niece, Hazel Potter. Hazel was a budding young witch, with a wand and a racing broom and a trunk full of spellbooks, and a white snowy owl named Hedwig which flew around at night, and sometimes delivered mail and brought back packages from her friends in the Wizarding world. She couldn't let on to anyone else about it though, or cause any sort of mischief, or bad things would happen.
Hazel preferred to avoid bad things, so she grudgingly accepted the rules and kept Hedwig inside during the day, and left her things put up except when she was doing homework. As long as she could get letters from her friends she thought she could handle it. She had worried about the little green bottle of pills, but found she didn't have to; once a week it went off as usual, but it did so later in the night and was much quieter, as if it sensed Muggles about.
Swimming lessons were a thing this summer; since everyone in Little Whinging was putting their kids up for them and of course, the Dursleys hated to stand out, so Hazel went too. She was a decent swimmer, she found, and the Muggle swimming suits were a far cry from the old-fashioned ones she imagined a witch or wizard might wear. Between swimming, self-defense, and the various ways she kept herself busy at night (homework, Occlumency, working out, training her left hand), she didn't have time to worry about Dementors and other mad things, so the month fairly flew by and it was halfway through July before anything interesting happened.
Well, aside from how Hazel was the one who kept the Dursleys' lawn so green and lush. But she'd never admit to it, how she stood at her window in the dead of night and cast a few quiet spells over the lawn beneath. She preferred her relatives to be in a good mood, for then they were willing to overlook some of her own quirks.
Anyway, halfway through July she got a letter from Ron, one that was much more interesting than the letters she'd gotten up til now.
Dear Hazel,
I guess you heard about the Malfoy decision already? If not, read the newspaper clipping I put in here. I feel bad for Draco, but after what happened to you and Ginny I can't say I'm too torn up about it.
Mum and Dad are planning to have you over for the rest of break too, and Sirius Black volunteered to get you. Let us know when's a good time and we'll set it all up!
-Ron
Frowning, she peeked in the envelope again and saw the clipping in question. The picture was of Lucius Malfoy, looking distant and arrogant as usual. Malfoy Patriarch Confesses to Plot Involving Rival Family & Relics of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! blared the headline. The article described how, two months ago, he had appeared voluntarily before the Wizengamot to confess to his part in the events at Hogwarts, claiming full guilt and foreknowledge, and admitting to a motive of trying to discredit Arthur Weasley.
Deliberations, she read, were quite brief, and Lord Malfoy was quickly sentenced to one year in Azkaban, though many of the warlocks had pushed for a lifetime sentence. It was speculated that Malfoy offered substantial reparations to the Weasley family as well as intelligence regarding the identities of other Death Eaters still at large in Wizarding Britain as leverage to reduce his sentence. Arthur Weasley had no comment for the press; Narcissa Malfoy could not be reached.
Hazel put the clipping down, trying to ignore the guilt bubbling in her guts. If only she'd acted sooner, caught the signs faster… maybe if she'd been in Gryffindor, been closer to Ginny… Ugh.
Getting away from Privet Drive early was always a plus, at least, so she put the letter down, finished her morning routine and went downstairs. Vernon and Dudley were watching tv, and Petunia was cleaning the kitchen. She stood beside Vernon's chair and cleared her throat. "Uncle Vernon?"
"Mm?" he muttered, not looking away from the screen. Usually he just grunted irritably, so she considered this a success.
Just as she opened her mouth, she remembered how Petunia had reacted last time, when she had mentioned going to a boy's house. "My, um, my friend Hermione Granger wants me over at her place for August, and she was wondering when they could come and get me?"
"Hm…" His brow furrowed, but not in fury for once. "Petunia!" he called. "When was Marge wanting to see the new place in Majorca?"
"The first of August, Vernon!" Petunia called back.
"You heard your Aunt, any time before August," and he went back to his show. "You make sure they don't disrupt things around here, mind, we won't tolerate any freakishness!"
"Yes, Uncle, thank you." She turned to head back upstairs, reaching for a pen and a piece of parchment.
Ron, it's all good, Sirius can come and get me any time before the 1st of August. He's not to disrupt the neighborhood, mind you; my uncle's words, not mine. And if Hermione's there, make sure she comes too.
It would be the first time she'd met her godfather, she thought with a smile. She wondered what kind of man he was, was he serious or fun loving? Would he take his position seriously or not?
Hedwig came back within the hour with a reply, with Ron confirming that Sirius would be by in two days to collect her.
Two anxious days later, around 4pm, there came a distant rumble that quickly grew louder.
"What in blazes," Vernon muttered, standing up and moving to the window as the source of the noise drew up outside. "Hazel! I thought I told you not to let your friends disrupt the street!"
"I did, I promise I told them not to!" she called, dashing down the stairs and flying to the door. Outside was an enormous black motorcycle with a sidecar, and two people were pulling old-fashioned helmets off and climbing onto the ground. One was her friend Hermione in jeans and a t-shirt, the other was a tall man with wild dark hair and a sleek green frock coat with matching suit. That had to be Sirius!
"Hazel!" Hermione called, a huge grin on her face as she raced up the walk and pulled her friend into a hug. "Oh gosh, it's so great to see you!"
"You too, Hermione!" she gushed back, smiling as well. They had both grown a little, it seemed. "Oh, here, this is my Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and my cousin Dudley."
Hermione cleared her throat and offered her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mr and Mrs Dursley," she told them, and after a moment they shook her hand very quickly.
Behind her, Sirius was also grinning, and Hazel recognized the mischievous glint in his eyes; it was the same glint Fred and George had before truly epic trouble happened. She frowned and shook her head briefly, and he just rolled his eyes. "All packed up, kiddo?" he said instead, rocking back and forth on his heels.
"Right, one second." She ran back upstairs, checked the room for any last things, and opened her trunk to make sure everything was packed away neatly. Everything was in order so she grabbed trunk and cage and tripped back downstairs, where Sirius and Hermione had already retreated back outside. "Have fun in Majorca! See you next year!" she called back to the disapproving Dursleys (well, Vernon and Petunia were anyway; Dudley had an awe-struck expression at the sight of the huge bike).
The sidecar and saddlebags were much roomier than they looked, as the trunk slipped away easily and Hazel, Hermione and Hedwig all sat side by side with room to spare. "Helmets on, ladies," Sirius called over the roar of the motor, and handed one to Hazel. She slid it over her head and gripped the side, heart racing with excitement. "We'll let your owl out soon enough, just need to get away from all this!"
There was a bang, and the bike lurched forward; Hedwig screeched as the cage was rocked back and forth, and Hazel and Hermione clung to each other on instinct. They blasted down the street, no doubt attracting many stares from windows, and turned a corner at such a speed the whole bike creaked. "Sirius, slow down!" Hermione cried, still clinging to Hazel. Hazel didn't know what to think; on one hand it was nerve wracking, on the other hand, Hermione was a nice person to have clinging to her.
"One speed!" the man shouted back, hitting two buttons on the handlebars; one didn't seem to do anything, but the other had them flying! "Maybe you don't remember, Hazel, but Hagrid brought you back there on this bike twelve years ago!"
"I do! I've always had dreams about a flying motorbike!" she shouted back. And a large hairy man, come to think of it. It was nice to know her very early childhood wasn't all doom and blood. "They weren't ever very clear, of course!"
"Sirius, it's too loud!" Hermione complained. "Can't you-?"
"Oh, sorry!" He did something with his wand, and the noise of the motor dropped considerably. "There, better?"
"Much better, thanks." She scooted away from Hazel and tried not to look down. "Um, so Hazel, this is-"
"Sirius Black, I know, I saw his picture a few times," she replied with a grin. "Hagrid gave me a photo book once!"
"Ah, yeah, I wondered if that came to anything," Sirius said. "Of course he came to me, and I think he tracked down Lupin too, probably visited old Mrs Longbottom…"
Neville's grandmother, Hazel reckoned as she looked over the side. "I think it's safe to let Hedwig out now," she told Sirius, who just nodded in return, and she turned to unlatch the cage. Hedwig hooted indignantly and soared away, falling behind quickly because of their speed.
"I've got so many questions, Sirius! About you, about my parents- all of it!" she went on.
"I bet you do, kiddo!" he replied with a laugh. "Sorry I never showed my face before now, Dumbledore made me promise to wait. But I've kept an eye on you in my own way." He looked back at her with a fierce grin. "Believe me, if those Muggle relatives of yours had stepped out of line I'd've been there in a flash, Dumbledore or not!"
"Good thing they didn't, then." She didn't want to think about the scene that would ensue if Sirius felt he had to intercede on her behalf. "How fast are we going? How far is it to Ron's place? And speaking of Muggles, won't they see us?"
"About 150 miles, give or take," he explained, "we'll be there in an hour and a half at this rate. And no Muggle's gonna spot us up here, that button I pushed made us invisible to them!"
"How've you spent your summer so far, Hazel?" Hermione asked, and she regaled her friend with the not-so-thrilling tale of summer on Privet Drive. Swimming lessons, self defense, tending the lawn when the Dursleys weren't looking…
"Ooh, Uncle Vernon's gonna be pissed when the grass dies," she finished unconcernedly. "Doubt he'll make the connection though."
"Vernon Dursley is a special kind of Muggle," Sirius remarked. "So why're they letting you learn Muggle dueling anyway?"
"I let them imagine what'd happen to the house if I were left alone for hours," she replied smugly. "It's helped a lot, I gave that asshole Lockhart a piece of my mind a few times last year, and the movements are useful in wizard's duels."
The mention of Lockhart made Hermione go quiet for a minute, and Hazel regretted bringing him up. "Cheer up, he's in Azkaban now," and she hugged her again.
"I know." After a moment Hermione hugged back. "I just- I still can't believe he had me fooled…"
"It was the same when we were at Hogwarts," Sirius cut in, shaking his head. "Dumbledore couldn't hang onto a Defense teacher longer than a year. And the nutters he did manage to bring in, it's a wonder we learned anything at all."
"None of them were child predators though, were they?" Hermione sniffled.
"Yes, actually. Professor Smethly, real cradle snatcher she was, retired Obliviator and Auror; she was actually competent when she wasn't slavering over the fourth-years." He shook his head. "Got caught in May and thrown out, died in Azkaban six years later."
This revelation was troubling, especially in regards to Dumbledore's judgment, and Hazel was silent for some time. After a while Sirius lifted the Silencing Charm and the roar of the motorcycle engulfed them again, and though Hazel and Hermione held hands they didn't speak until the bike began descending through the darkening sky.
"Ooh, there's the Burrow!" Hermione said, pointing forward. From up here it seemed to be a pile of stone and wood, stacked haphazardly toward the sky; glancing around again, Hazel thought she saw a stone tower higher in the hills north of the Burrow, but they were descending too fast for her to get a good look.
Chapter 2: The Weasleys, AgainSummary:Hazel relearns first-hand that the Weasleys are incredibly Gryffindorish, and this time she doesn't really mind that sort of thing. Is this what they call growing up?
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextBefore she knew it they were bouncing to a stop, and they all climbed off the machine and stowed their helmets. "Go on in, girls, I'll see to it Hazel's things are put away," Sirius said, drawing his wand and popping her trunk from the saddlebags.
"Hazel, dear!" came a voice, and Hazel turned to see Molly Weasley hurring forward. "So good to see you! Come in, come in!" Hazel grinned and let herself be pulled into a smothering hug, and as usual her heart ached slightly that she never knew a mother's touch like this.
She followed Mrs Weasley inside, and the first thing she saw was a small kitchen, clean yet untidy; with seven people in residence she was surprised it wasn't dirtier. "Dinner's almost ready, dear, but if you're hungry I can whip something up," Mrs Weasley was fussing, casting an eye over the busy stove.
"Er." Her stomach growled, and she went to wash her hands. "If you've got any tomato soup, Mrs Weasley, I wouldn't say no."
"Me too, if that's alright?" Hermione asked as she too stepped up to the sink.
"Right you are." A wave of her wand brought tableware and cutlery clattering out, and a second wave summoned a jet of warm red froth that landed neatly in two bowls. "There's crackers, dears, and salt and pepper…" And those things too were called forth from the ether.
"Thanks, Mrs Weasley." Hazel added crackers and salt and pepper, lots of pepper, then dug in hungrily. "It's wonderful!"
"What do they eat, those Muggles," the matronly witch sniffed, sitting down herself with a sigh and waving a couple bottles over. "You both need to eat more, not to mention my own lot growing like rabbits." She shook her head and popped the corks out with a flick of her wand. "One silver lining in all that mess from before, not that we needed it, mind you!"
"Surely not," Hazel agreed automatically. She'd always gotten the sense from Ron that the Weasleys weren't quite well off, but she also had the sense that offering to help would offend them massively. And now that she was thinking about it, wasn't Mrs Weasley wearing a new dress? And a lot of the dishes and cutlery looked brand new, too…
The bottles turned out to contain chilled butterbeer, and they eagerly gulped away. "Mm, this isn't as sweet as the stuff at the Leaky Cauldron," Hermione declared after a long sip of her own bottle. "I think I like it better." She put the cork aside and looked up at Mrs Weasley. "Where'd you get it from?"
"Ah, we have it sent over from Hogsmeade," Mrs Weasley explained absently, glancing at the stove again. She flicked her wand and some of the cookery slowed down, and she nodded. "Hogsmeade's the village outside Hogwarts, dear, you'll be allowed to go visit this year."
"Sounds like fun." Hazel vaguely remembered notices on the Slytherin common room board about scheduled visits somewhere, but they were never for her year so she'd ignored them. "Where's everyone else? I'm surprised we aren't drowning in freckles by now."
Mrs Weasley chuckled slightly at that. "Percy hasn't left his room all summer, except to eat. Arthur's at work, Fred and George are… hm, I should probably check on them soon. Ron's napping, and Ginny's upstairs. You'll be staying in her room, I hope that's alright."
"No problem, Mrs Weasley." She'd finished her soup by then, but the smell of roast was making her ravenous all over again. "Er, I like mine rare, Mrs Weasley, like, really rare…"
"Yes, dear, I thought you would," and she smiled knowingly. "Ginny's going through that phase now too, we all did. Fortunately, some of us never grew out of it!"
Sirius wandered in about then, looking pleased with himself. "Got your trunk dragged up to Ginny's room, kiddo," and he sat down at the table, accepting a butterbeer from Mrs Weasley. "Cheers, Molly."
"So, um…" All her questions piled up, and she wasn't sure where to start. "What should I call you, then? Mr Black, Lord Black?"
"Ugh! No, Sirius is fine, just Sirius," he retorted immediately. "Can't stand all that Lord 'n Lady shit."
"Okay, just thought I'd ask." She shrugged it away and washed down the last of her soup with her own drink. "So, like-"
"Dinner's almost ready!" Mrs Weasley announced, as the rest of the Weasleys began trickling down the stairs. Ron yelped for glee at the sight of Hazel and immediately ran over to thump her on the back; Fred and George trailed in too and grinned at her, while Percy settled for a stiff nod, which she returned. Ginny floated in behind Percy and seemed to be trying to hide behind him, and Hazel rolled her eyes at the sight; she was back to being shy, it seemed.
Shortly they moved outside, and the fireplace flared green as Mrs Weasley began setting a long table in the garden. "That'll be Arthur," she said distractedly, "Percy? Percy, can you-?"
"Right away, Mum," the older boy replied importantly, drawing his wand to help out. "Charlie was coming tonight as well, wasn't he?"
"What!" Ron sputtered, spinning to stare indignantly at his mother and older brother. "Charlie's coming? Since when?" Fred and George were likewise caught off guard, and Mr Weasley walked out with a befuddled expression on his face.
"What's got you lot all riled up, then?" he asked with a laugh. "Oh, Hazel! Glad to see you made it over alright." He ambled over and clapped her on the shoulder, and she nodded back. "No trouble from them Muggles, then?"
"No more than usual, sir," she replied with a shrug, noticing his new robes. "What's this about Charlie?"
Before anyone could answer there was a pop and a whoosh from the field beyond the garden, and a stocky human figure could be seen appearing, surrounded by a great deal of luggage. "That's him, that's him!" Ron, Fred and George all sprang up and dashed out to help, but the distant figure merely waved a wand and floated it all through the air.
"That's a lot of stuff," Hazel remarked to no one in particular, "is he staying for a while, then?"
"Oh, not here, thank Merlin," Mrs Weasley replied with a chuckle. "Our poor Burrow's filled to bursting already!"
"Ah, like we'd have it any other way," Mr Weasley countered fondly, leaning down to kiss his wife on the cheek.
Charlie, it turned out, was short and stocky like his mother, and at first Hazel couldn't tell if his dark skin was because of a tan or if his freckles were just that thick. Once he came closer it was apparently a bit of both, as he was extremely wind-swept and tanned, and also quite freckled. He saw her and grinned widely. "The famous Hazel Potter! Pleasure to meet ya, Charlie Weasley at yer service!"
"Just Hazel, please," she replied, gripping his hand. His palm and fingers were heavily calloused, she noticed, and his grip was quite strong. "I doubt you've gone inside much lately, have you?"
"Ha! Not on me life I haven't!" His laughter sounded like barking. "What good's inside when all the fun's outside, I wanna know!"
Percy cleared his throat and tried to interject, but Fred and George cut him off, leaving him looking rather put out. "If it weren't for the people who worked inside, you wouldn't have so much fun playing around in the sun, now would you?" he muttered, sitting down in defeat.
There was clearly a rift between Percy and the rest of his family, but Hazel was having too much fun to bother with it right then. "Oi, Perce, chin up!" and Charlie came out of the throng to clip his brother on the chin. "I know it ain't all fun and games, innit? But it's thanks to folks like you and dad that I can do as I please, innit? Don't think I ain't grateful, I just ain't a desk-work guy!"
Percy's mouth twitched upward, but whatever he might have said was drowned out as Mrs Weasley announced dinner was finally ready. Everyone sat down, and Hazel found herself with Sirius on one side and Hermione on the other. "Bit overwhelming, them," her godfather muttered as food went around. He had a smile on his face, though. "Lot different from what I grew up with…"
"Oh, me too," Hazel agreed fervently, helping herself to generous portions of roast and hot sauce, potatoes and ham and wine. It was impossible to have a coherent conversation with everything going on, so she focused on eating instead, letting the chaos wash over her as she kept watch.
Mrs Weasley was clearly in charge, for all that Mr Weasley sat at the head of the table. It was her glance that quelled the twins whenever they got too loud, or that prodded Ginny into speaking up when she was too quiet. But somehow she knew not to fix that gaze on herself? Kind of her, very kind of her.
Percy spoke only when spoken to, and only really got excited when 'The Future' was brought up, or what subjects he thought he would do best at in school. Which… seemed to be all of them. Percy was ambitious, she figured, and a raucous family dinner wasn't the right venue to express that ambition; maybe she'd have to get him alone before he disappeared again, surely he'd have insight on the various classes on offer at Hogwarts.
Charlie, being practically a stranger after so long away, was the center of attention, though he was happy to share it around and regaled them all with stories of his work back in… Romania? with dragons? Yes, it seemed, Charlie Weasley was a dragonologist. So. Cool. No wonder Percy was jealous! He definitely would have done well in Care of Magical Creatures, which was one class Hazel was looking forward to.
Farther down the table, Hermione and Ron were mostly chattering with each other, and with Ginny. Sirius had no problem inserting himself into whatever conversation happened to be handy, feeling right at home with all the rambunctious redheads. Was this what it was like in the Gryffindor common room every night? If so she considered herself lucky she'd been put in Slytherin instead, this was too much to live with constantly.
Should she try to speak up? No, no, this was fine. She didn't have much to say to any of them except Sirius, and she rather wanted him alone for that conversation. Well, Percy too, but see above.
Before she knew it she had taken three helpings of everything, and rather had to use the bathroom. "Hermione, where's the loo?" she asked, nudging the frizzy-haired brunette.
"Huh? Oh, I'm not sure… Ginny, show Hazel the loo, would you?" and she nudged Ginny in turn. Ginny flushed red but got up and beckoned awkwardly, and Hazel went to follow her.
Ginny didn't say anything as they went inside, and up a few flights of stairs. "Here," she muttered, pushing a door open. Inside was a cluttered space, and Hazel imagined the ladies had this one to themselves; she didn't want to think what the boy's bath looked like. She did her business, flushed the toilet and washed her hands thoroughly before stepping back out.
"Thanks, Ginny," she said with a smile. Ginny smiled back a bit before flushing scarlet again, and ducked her face away as she led her back downstairs and out into the garden once more. Hazel really hoped she'd grow out of that shyness soon, especially if they were going to share a bedroom.
Mrs Weasley was a fine cook, Hazel decided afterward as they trooped back inside after the wonderful repast. Despite the late hour there was no sign of anyone going to bed, and everyone was settling into various chairs and sofas in the living room; Mr Weasley had brought out a dusty bottle of what she thought was firewhiskey, and he was pouring some into tiny glasses for himself, Charlie, Mrs Weasley and Sirius.
"Want some, do ya?" Charlie chuckled when he caught her stare.
"Charlie, they're kids!" Mrs Weasley said warningly. "Far too young for firewhiskey!"
"Now Molly, just a taste, it's a big night," Mr Weasley said soothingly. "My own father did the same to me once…"
"Dad's right, Mum, let 'em have a lick, best way to ruin the taste for it!" He winked to his dad and beckoned Hazel and the others over. "One sip and you'll swear never a' touch the stuff again!"
Feeling a bit dubious, Hazel took the shot glass anyway and politely put her lips to the rim before tipping it back. The fumes hit her nose like a freight train before her mouth knew it was on fire! "D-Dammit!" she swore as she spat it back out, coughing and waving her nose clear. "I'm never touching that stuff again!"
"Told ya," Charlie replied smugly, and one by one the other kids had similar reactions. Even Fred and George were put off, though they tried to fake otherwise. Percy had the best luck, only shuddering slightly as he manfully swallowed a tiny portion of it, though he was of age so it wasn't so impressive for him. Ginny could only squeak and drop the glass, and Sirius snapped his wand out just in time.
"How do they stand that stuff?" Ron gasped, thumping his own chest. "If that's what it takes to be a grownup I'm not sure I wanna grow up!"
"Oh, it- it wasn't that bad," Hermione retorted, even though she'd nearly been sick at the very smell.
"Never you mind," Mrs Weasley huffed, irritated at being overruled in her own home. "I'll get hot chocolate ready, come into the kitchen, kids." Hazel followed her through the door and watched as she flicked her wand to summon mugs from the cabinets, and put a kettle to boil on the stove. "Don't worry, Ron, it's not necessary to drink firewhiskey before you're allowed to grow up!"
The hot chocolate was better than all the firewhiskey, Hazel decided as she slowly sipped hers down, especially when Mrs Weasley added something to cool it off and give it a peppermint kick. "Does everyones' parents do that to them at some point?" Hazel wondered aloud.
"You can't deny it works," Hermione remarked, blowing on her mug and sipping from it. "None of us really want more firewhiskey now, do we?"
"Speak for yourself," one of the twins muttered, trying to look blase and sophisticated.
Hazel finished her drink and put the mug in the sink. "I'm about ready for bed," she said with a yawn. "Mrs Weasley, I'm staying with Ginny and Hermione, right?"
"Yes dear," the matronly woman smiled, "it'll be a bit cramped with the three of you for tonight, but once Arthur has time to put an Extension Charm in place tomorrow you'll have plenty of room!"
Hazel wondered why he hadn't effected such a charm already, then shrugged it away in the next thought; he was probably a busy man after all, what with working to support seven people and a rickety old house. Once again she followed Mrs Weasley, heading up a flight of stairs, and through the doorway she indicated. "G'night, Mrs Weasley," she murmured, fumbling for a light switch before realizing the Burrow probably didn't even have electricity.
"Oh, here, dear," and there was a ball of light hovering near the ceiling. "Don't worry about using your wand while you're here, the Trace gets confused with so many wizards in one place and we're well away from Muggles anyhow; you're in the sleeping bag there, sleep well."
"Thanks…" Digging her pajamas out was too much work, so Hazel settled with getting undressed and crawling into the bag. She was asleep before Mrs Weasley's light ball went out.
Notes:As always, I welcome your honest and forthright comments. I'm still learning as a writer, after all!
Chapter 3: Professor WeasleySummary:More fun at the Burrow. Hazel meets her new Care of Magical Creatures professor, and wonders if they're all mad. Spoiler: they're all mad.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextHazel woke up from a very pleasant dream to someone shaking her by the shoulder. "Dindoit," she mumbled, blinking in the early sunlight. Someone was hovering above her, and she couldn't see them clearly. "Whozere?"
"It's me," came Hermione's whispered voice, and her glasses were put in her hand. "You were making noises in your sleep."
"Was I?" She put her glasses on, and Hermione's face came into focus at last. "What kind of noises?"
"Um." Was Hermione flushing red in the face, or was it her imagination? "Wh-What were you dreaming about, anyway?" Now her voice sounded weird and forced, too…
Hazel ignored it and tried to recall the last few scraps of her dream. "I think it must have been Luna… someone blonde and pretty anyway…" Narcissa Malfoy was blonde and pretty too, but she wouldn't admit to that in a place like this. "And she was… we were…" Now they were both red in the face. Wonderful.
"You sounded like mum and dad sometimes do when they think we're all asleep," Ginny said, causing both of them to jump slightly. "Only quieter, obviously."
"Okay, I get it, I get it." Hazel waved it all aside and pushed herself out of the bag, quickly fumbling for some clothes so she wouldn't be in her underwear too long. Ginny and Hermione joined her in getting up and dressed, and they slipped up to the bathroom by turns.
"Oh, that's lovely," she muttered afterward, staring at her hair in the mirror as she washed her hands. It was even messier than usual, and she fruitlessly tried patting it down before drying off.
On the way back down, one of the doors opened, and a bed-haired twin poked his head out. "Alright, Hazel? Heard you lot clomping about, won't be long before everyone's up…"
"Oh, sorry, I didn't wake you, did I?"
He just chuckled and waved her off. "Nah, no worries, mum'd be dragging us out of bed soon anyway." He shut the door again, and she kept going down.
"Good morning, dear," Mrs Weasley called as she filed in. "Breakfast will be up in a few."
"Thanks, Mrs Weasley." Hazel sat down at the table, still fiddling with her hair. "Mrs Weasley, do you know any hair spells?" Hermione looked interested at that too.
The older witch gave them sympathetic glances. "Well, there is a simple spell or two. Potions are best, but we're all out of Sleekeazy's, unless Percy…"
"What's that stuff?" Hazel asked.
"A hair potion," Hermione replied instead. "Your grandfather Fleamont invented it, you know, I'm surprised you haven't heard of it before."
"Flea- are you kidding? People named their kids Fleamont?" This was incredibly amusing to her for some reason, and she collapsed into giggles for several moments. "I guess I never thought of it before, but I must have had grandparents…" She shrugged it away and looked impatiently at the stove; she could ask Sirius, he'd been close to her father after all.
Everyone else filtered downstairs in time, and soon there was bread and sausages and eggs being passed around. Hazel took hers with liberal amounts of hot sauce, which wasn't as strong as the stuff at Hogwarts but it still smarted her eyes and nose, and as usual washed it all down with lots of cold milk.
Afterward she washed off and went after Mr Weasley. "Mr Weasley, can I have a word with you?" she asked politely, gesturing outside. He shrugged and followed her to the garden, where they stood and watched the gnomes. "I, um, I read about what they did to L- to Mr Malfoy."
"Did you?" His face hardened at the mention of the imprisoned wizard. "He was a Death Eater, Hazel, I hope you realize that. Just deserts, if you ask me!"
"Yes sir." She looked up at him. "I read something about reparations, though?"
"As if money could make up for what happened to our Ginny," he scoffed. "Five million galleons, Hazel, and don't you be repeating that either! Most of it has gone to charities already, we've no use for bloody Malfoy gold."
"I hope you bought Ron a new wand, at least," was all she said to that. Money was still a sore subject for the Weasley patriarch, it seemed.
"Well, of course," he replied, messing with the cuffs of his new robes. "If that was everything, Hazel, I've got to get to work…"
"Where d'you work at, sir? If you don't mind my asking?"
"Ah, at the Ministry, of course. Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office," he explained with a smile as they went back inside. "Ask Ron to explain it, I really have to go." He swept a cloak over himself, ducked to kiss his wife, then stepped to the fireplace and threw a pinch of something green into it; green fires flared up and he stepped into them. "Ministry of Magic!" he cried, and disappeared just as fast.
"What, never seen Floo powder before?" Ron asked when he saw her staring. "We use it all the time, it's how we get around. What'd you need Dad for earlier?"
"Huh? Oh, I had a question for him, is all." She doubted it was a good idea, loudly talking about Malfoys around here for a while. "Hey, show me your new wand!"
"Oh yeah, here!" He pulled out a plain-looking wand with a knot at one end, probably for holding onto. "Fourteen inches, willow and unicorn hair! It's amazing!"
A scarred hand clapped Ron on the back. "Couldn't hang onto me old wand more than a few years, eh, bro?" Charlie interjected with a smirk. "Heard all about it, I did."
"Aw, Charlie." Ron went red and grinned sheepishly. "No offense, mate, but your wand didn't do so well by me, even before that arseface broke it…"
Feeling overwhelmed again, Hazel went back outside, to stand in the garden and breathe the clean morning air. There was so much to do, and she was grateful she'd finished her summer assignments already; she had to talk to Sirius about her past, Percy about her future, write a letter to Draco to make sure he was okay. But she had a month and change to take care of things yet…
She put it aside for now and went to get her broom, and spent the rest of the day with Hermione and the Weasleys. Charlie, it seemed, had been a legendary Seeker himself while at Hogwarts, and showed them a few tricks and maneuvers even she didn't know existed. Ginny was also a real flying savant, and they played three-a-side Quidditch above the Weasley orchard, with Ron as Keeper while Hazel and Ginny were Chasers against Fred, George and Charlie.
Near the end of the day, when Mrs Weasley came out to call them down for dinner, Hazel tried her swan dive trick again, flying as high as possible and then leaping off her broom, arcing downward before calling it back at the last possible moment. "That was amazing!" Fred and George yelled at the same time, clapping with the rest as Hazel bowed shakily. Everyone else was duly impressed, of course, and she noticed how Mrs Weasley merely shook her head and hid a smirk; it was a contrast to Narcissa's reaction to the stunt, she reflected.
That evening, as everyone dug into mashed potatoes, steak and kidney pie, and pub chips, Hazel took the opportunity to ask Percy about school. "Which electives did you pick in third year, Percy?" she opened, ignoring the groans and facepalms from the others.
"Oh, I took all of them," Percy replied haughtily, "even Muggle Studies, which people say is a soft option. But it's important for us wizards to be able to work with them and blend in when necessary, wouldn't you say?"
"Absolutely," she agreed, thinking of what she'd seen of wizards trying to dress like Muggles. "Hermione and I signed up for all of them too, of course, but which would you say are the most useful?"
"Well, obviously the core classes are important, though I can't say our Defense Against the Dark Arts education has been at all consistent," he went on, quite happy to have someone new to explain these things to. "I just wish History of Magic had a more interesting teacher! No one ever pays attention to anything old Binns says, and it's just the most fascinating stuff!"
"I pay attention!" Hermione said indignantly. "History is fascinating, I can only imagine what we learn about in later years!"
"Come off it," Ron scoffed. "Who cares about medieval wizards or goblin murderers or-"
"It saved me against the basilisk, Ron," Hazel cut in. "If I hadn't known the history of Hogwarts or Salazar Slytherin's dislike of Muggle-born wizards, I might not have convinced her to take my side against Riddle's."
That seemed to bring the table to silence for a few moments. "...okay, well, I don't really plan on confronting gigantic snakes any time soon, so…" Ron muttered, trying and failing to save face.
"Oh Ron, you're hopeless," Hermione snapped. "Go on, Percy, what else is there?"
As Percy went on and on about the classes and teachers, Hazel wondered if he really believed what he was saying. They were all equally important, really? Care of Magical Creatures still sounded utterly fascinating, of course, and she was still determined to carry on as much as she could with the rest, but she couldn't help but compare Percy's long-winded discourse with Gemma Farley's flippant dismissal of Divination and Muggle Studies as classes worthy of a Slytherin's time.
Soon enough, no one could eat another bite, and Mrs Weasley cleared the table with a sweep of her wand. "So Dad, ya heard anything about who they're putting in old Kettleburn's place now he's retired?" Charlie asked, an exceptionally impish grin on his face.
"Well! I did hear that Dumbledore had considered Hagrid for the job," Mr Weasley replied smoothly, with the air of someone playing along with a joke, "but in the end he persuaded an exceptionally talented young man to come back from overseas to teach the subject instead…"
"Aye, so he did!" and Charlie got to his feet. "That talented man were me! I'm coming back to Hogwarts, I am!" Everyone clapped, even Hazel, and he waved his wand; a heavy box zoomed out of the Burrow to land on the table before him. "One for each of ya, and fair warning, ya gotta stroke 'em."
With that he opened the box, and six large books erupted upward. "Catch 'em!" Charlie crowed, and all six students had to try and pin down one of the vicious things. "Good job, Perce! Remember, stroke it!"
Hazel managed to corner one and throw herself down on it, where it chittered and tried getting loose again. "Oh no you don't!" she growled, thumping it on the face with her hand and making it squeal. She tried stroking it, but nothing changed until she did the spine; only then did it shudder and go limp. "The spine, the spine!"
Shortly they had their books subdued, and Charlie was laughing uproariously at the looks on their faces. "Ah ha! You can't tell me ya weren't having fun!" he laughed, wiping his eyes. "Bloody hilarious! Should've seen yer faces!"
"I think I would've preferred Hagrid, if this is what our own brother does to us," Percy sniffed haughtily, conjuring a belt to bind the book with.
"Ah, he'd do the same, or worse," Fred remarked with a theatrical shudder. "Oi, toss us a few of those, eh?"
"Just use ropes," Hermione panted, as she wiggled her wand at her book. "Incarcerous!" Lengths of cord erupted from the end of her wand and bound themselves tightly around the thing, and Hazel, Fred and George did the same to theirs. Ron, after a moment's struggle with the wand movements, did likewise. "Charlie, is this really such a good idea?"
"Prolly not, but," and he shrugged theatrically. "Yer learning about monsters, ain't ya? What better than a Monster Book fer that?"
Hazel looked down at hers, and sure enough, The Monster Book of Monsters seemed to be its title. "At least there's a trick to taming it," she said, though she doubted that every monster would be so easily subdued. "Is it always so exciting around the Burrow?"
"Nah, just when we got guests over," Ron replied with a smirk. "Come on, we better head in…"
Notes:More of my actual writing style is coming through in this story, without the rails of the book to follow. As always, I welcome your honest thoughts!
Chapter 4: Pick Your Own MistletoeSummary:Hazel goes to visit the Lovegoods for an afternoon, and gets more than she bargained for in the process. Spoiler: she doesn't pick any mistletoe.
Notes:(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter TextHazel made certain to hold her Occlumency firmly in place before bed, not wanting more nightmares or another embarrassing morning (though their pills went off and Ginny asked about them, to much furtive embarrassment at the explanation). And thankfully, that's what she didn't get.
After breakfast (eggs, hash browns, toast, ham and bacon and coffee), she went back to Ginny's room to write a few letters. One to Sirius, asking when he could come back to the Burrow; one to Draco, asking after his health and his mother, making sure they were okay wherever they were, and filling him in on random bits of news she could think of; and one to Luna, asking when they could head up for a visit.
"Get to Sirius first, he's probably closer," she murmured to Hedwig as she tied the letters to her feet and held some bacon rinds up for her to pluck at. The owl hooted softly and nipped at the bacon, then took off out the window. Hazel took the last letter in hand and went to find Mrs Weasley.
She found her in the kitchen, naturally enough. "Mrs Weasley, have you got an owl I can borrow? I've already got Hedwig out and I have this I wanted to send to Luna Lovegood?"
"Well, we've got Errol," and Mrs Weasley nodded to a great gray owl dozing in the corner, "he's getting on in years but he should be able to make the Lovegoods and back. And, dear, I wanted to ask you," and she turned to face Hazel, "what did you want to do for your birthday?"
"Oh." She had to stop and think. "I hadn't thought about that, actually, been having too much fun here lately. Um…" She approached Errol for something to do while thinking about it, stroking his feathers to wake him gently. "Well, I'd love Beef Wellington for dinner, I know that much. I like it nice and rare too." She knew the Weasleys had money now, but the source of it made her uneasy yet. "I guess just going to Diagon Alley for the day would be enough?"
"Lovely, dear, of course we can do that," Mrs Weasley replied with a smile.
Hazel smiled back, then realized she should make a note of when her birthday was in her letter to Luna so she unrolled it and did so, then tied it back on and carried Errol up to the third floor to let him out the window up there, figuring if he was old and weak a longer fall would help get the wind under his wings. Sure enough, he seemed to struggle slightly even with a simple letter, but got his wings out eventually and was soon winging northward.
Hedwig came back at the same time Errol did, about an hour later. She made sure Errol got some water before he dozed off again, and gave Hedwig an owl treat before she took off to search for the Malfoys. The reply from Luna was nice and cheerful, on yellow stationary with periwinkle blue flowers dotted around the edges; she wrote about Freshwater Plimpies and Singing Sunflowers, and almost as an afterthought indicated she was free to come and visit whenever she liked, at the big tower to the north of the Burrow, and there'd be fresh Gurdyroot tea waiting for her. "Oh, Luna," Hazel said to herself, giggling slightly.
Sirius' reply was more direct, and he said he'd come by the day before her birthday, armed with presents and answers. That was everything she wanted from him, she thought with a shrug.
After lunch she went and grabbed her broom. "Hey, I'm gonna go see Luna for a while, anyone wanna come with me?" she asked, and she grinned when Ginny was the first to volunteer. Hermione got up too, though she looked a bit hesitant at the idea of brooms.
"You lead the way, Ginny, you know where they are," Hazel said once they were in the air. She was riding a brand new broom, Hazel noticed, while Hermione had nervously climbed aboard one of the older Weasley brooms.
And as they flew over the hills, Hazel thought about the Quidditch game she'd played with Ginny. "You thinking about trying out for Quidditch this year, Ginny?"
"You bet I am!" the feisty redhead called back, grinning fiercely. "I'll be just as good as you, watch!" Hazel grinned back and wished they were in a more remote area, so they could race each other. As it was, she had one hand on her wand, ready to Obliviate anyone who looked like a Muggle and saw them.
Fortunately they encountered no Muggles, in fact they didn't see anyone until they finally crested the ridge and came across the stone tower Hazel had seen from the bike a few days ago. It was at least four stories high, with a creek running behind it, and surrounded by a rickety fence in which a wide variety of plants and trees grew. Sheep grazed here and there on the moor beyond.
The three of them landed at the gate, and Hazel saw three hand-painted signs tacked to the post. The first read:
THE QUIBBLER. EDITOR: X. LOVEGOOD
The second said:
PICK YOUR OWN MISTLETOE
And the last:
KEEP OFF THE DIRIGIBLE PLUMS
"I'm not sure what half of these are," Hermione said, nervously eying the various plants as Ginny pushed the gate open and led the way to the front door. "Oh, is that Mr Lovegood?"
She had seen a figure bent over a bush covered in orange radishes, which Hazel thought she'd seen Luna wearing as earrings once. The figure straightened and turned to them, and sure enough, it was Xenophilius. "Ah! Luna said we'd have guests today!" he said happily, looking down at them with his mismatched eyes. "Hazel Potter and little Ginevra, and you are…?"
"Hermione Granger, sir," she replied promptly, standing straight. "Hazel and I are starting our third year at Hogwarts this fall."
"Wonderful, wonderful!" He smiled at them all and led them inside. "Luna's down at the stream fishing for Freshwater Plimpies, she was ever so excited to get your owl." The bottom floor was entirely taken up by a brightly decorated kitchen, with perfectly circular walls painted with plants and bugs and birds, all in bright primary colors. Hazel thought maybe Luna had done the painting, perhaps when she was younger.
She sat down with her friends at the table while Xenophilius bustled around to get tea ready. "Once my Luna gets back with those Plimpies we'll start lunch, okay? Our Freshwater Plimpy Soup recipe is famous all over Britain!"
"Sounds wonderful, sir." She saw he wasn't wearing the funny necklace from before, or at least, he wasn't wearing it visibly. "Sir, when we first met, you had a necklace on? And there was this funny symbol attached to it?"
"Ah, of course." He reached inside his robes and pulled the necklace out, letting it hang where they could see. "It isn't a common sign, you know. It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows."
"Deathly Hallows?" Hazel repeated, wracking her brains trying to recall some mention of them from her studies. But nothing came to mind. "I've never heard of them." Hermione and Ginny both shook their heads.
Xenophilius set a plethora of mismatched cups and a teapot down on the table, as well as a tray with little snacks and candies. "Do help yourself," he said graciously, pouring himself a cup, "Luna and I pick the roots ourselves from the herbs outside." He added sugar and sipped happily. "So, the Hallows. You are familiar with The Tale of the Three Brothers, I assume?"
"Oh yes, we heard that one all the time in our house," Ginny remarked with a smile. "Though Dad never told it the same way twice."
Hazel recalled Ron mentioning it offhand last year, while discussing her wand. "Is it a wizards' fairy tale, then?" she asked, pouring herself a cup of deep purple tea. She tasted it first, found it surprisingly bitter, and added several sugar cubes and some honey. Ginny and Hermione followed her lead after tasting their own cups.
"Quite so, quite so. If you'll excuse me…" Xenophilius set his cup down and disappeared up the spiral staircase in the center of the house.
No sooner was he out of sight, but the front door swung open. "Daddy? Daddy, I caught lots of- oh!" It was Luna, with a basket full of strange legged fish over her shoulder. "Hazel, I thought you'd be a bit longer." She put her catch down on the counter and went to wrap her arms around her friend. "I was ever so surprised to get your letter this morning, Daddy and I have been cleaning all day."
"Hi Luna," Hazel replied, hugging her back. "I'm excited to be here, your house is so interesting!" She couldn't help but get all sappy whenever the eccentric younger witch was around, but she didn't care. "All those plants outside, I don't even know what most of them are!"
"Well, there's the Dirigible Plums, of course, those are very important," Luna explained serenely. "They guide your thoughts and help you accept the extraordinary."
"Is that why you wear them as earrings?" Hermione asked, and though her tone indicated skepticism, Luna only smiled and nodded.
"Your letter mentioned Singing Sunflowers as well?" Hazel asked as they sat down again.
"Oh yes, when they wake up this evening I'll have them sing for us." Luna took Hazel's hand and started counting the creases in her knuckles. "Oh dear…"
Whatever she saw was postponed with the reappearance of Xenophilius, who held an old picture book with a triumphant air. "Knew I had it around!" The book was The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and it had a funny blue cover. "Luna, here, The Tale of the Three Brothers if you will!"
"Okay, Daddy." Without letting go of Hazel's hand, Luna put the book in front of her and opened it to the last chapter. She cleared her throat and began reading aloud:
Three brothers, traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight, reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceeded to cross.
Halfway through the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeded to award them with gifts of their own choosing.
The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river. The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank. The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Invisibility Cloak.
The three brothers took their prizes and soon went their separate ways.
The eldest brother traveled to a village where a wizard whom he had quarreled lived. He sought out a duel and fought the wizard using the wand, instantly killing the latter.
Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother walked to an inn not far from the dueling site and spent the night there. Taken by his conscience and lust of the Elder Wand's power, the eldest brother boasted of this wand gifted by Death and his own invincibility.
That very night, Death transfigured to a murderous wizard. The unknown murderous wizard crept to the inn as the eldest brother slept, drunk from wine. The wizard slit the oldest brother's throat for good measure and stole the wand. That was when Death took the first brother.
The second brother returned to his home where he lived alone. Turning the stone thrice in his hand the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him, much to his delight. 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, committed suicide by hanging from his house' balcony so as truly to join her. That was when Death took the second brother for his own.
Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals.
She closed the book and went back to scrutinizing Hazel's knuckles, humming softly to herself. Xenophilius cleared his throat. "And there you have it! The Deathly Hallows!"
"Er… you mean the Wand and the Stone and the Cloak? Those are the Deathly Hallows?" Hazel replied.
"Indeed!" He held up the triangular symbol on his necklace. "This rod down the middle is the Elder Wand. The circle around it is the Resurrection Stone, and the triangle represents the Cloak of Invisibility! Together, the Hallows." He pointed out each element as he explained them, too.
"And what do these Hallows do?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"Individually, just what the story says," he went on animatedly. "The Elder Wand is an unbeatable wand, the Resurrection Stone brings back the dead, and the Cloak of Invisibility is a perfect, enduring source of concealment for oneself and one's friends. Not merely a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm or a Bedazzling Hex or what have you, those fade and lose their power as time goes by."
Hazel said nothing, and nudged Hermione under the table to warn her not to say anything either. Her own Cloak fit that description exactly, and the last thing she needed was for Xenophilius to fixate on her and her things. "It sounds quite fantastical, sir. Is there proof these objects really exist? The Resurrection Stone, for instance, how could it be real?"
A maddeningly smug expression crossed his face. "Prove it isn't real, Hazel Potter," he said challengingly, sitting back in his chair.
"Wh- How? That's ridiculous, I'd have to go all over the world testing every pebble and stone!" Hermione insisted instead, sounding flabbergasted. "You could say anything is real if your only proof is that no one else can prove it isn't!"
"Exactly, my dear." The smug look deepened. "That is a fine attitude to approach the world with, do carry it forward with you."
"What about the Elder Wand, then?" Ginny asked. Hazel blinked in confusion; she'd forgotten Ginny was even there in her argument with Xenophilius.
"Ah, yes, the Elder Wand." The smug look slipped away, and he assumed a more businesslike expression. "That is the Hallow most easily traced, there is endless evidence of its bloody trail across the pages of our history. Pay attention in History of Magic, young ladies, study well the stories of Emeric the Evil, Egbert the Egregious, of Godelot, Hereward, Loxias and Barnabas Deverill. Dark wizards all, of a most foul disposition that even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would hesitate to challenge! All of them mastered the Wand, and all of them fell to the next in line!"
"It can't be so unbeatable if it passes by conquest," Hermione sniffed, draining her tea. "I mean, you'd have to beat whoever has it to take possession, right?"
"Maybe not, remember the story?" Ginny countered. "The eldest brother had his throat cut in his sleep, and the other wizard took the Wand that way. So maybe you just need to defeat someone to claim the Wand?"
"If that was so, then any wand could be seized that way!" Hermione snapped. "And who ever heard of a wand being stolen from its owner?"
"Mommy lost her wand in a duel," Luna said unexpectedly, lifting Hazel's hand to peer at it more closely. "Fortunately she got it back, but it never quite worked so well for her afterward."
"Yes, my lovely Pandora was ever such an adventuress," Xenophilius sniffed, looking downcast. "Luna's growing up to be just like her, too…"
"Cheer up, Daddy." Luna let go of Hazel to stand up and walk around, so she could hug her father. "Mommy wouldn't want you to be sad so much, now would she?"
"No, no… I don't suppose she would…"
Notes:The text for the story "The Tale of the Three Brothers" was lifted directly from an online archive called Hogwarts Is Here. The text differs somewhat from the story as presented in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and as usual I claim no ownership or profit.
The link to the archive: https://www.hogwartsishere.com/library/book/8451/chapter/1/