#the three brothers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

via-the-ghoul · 1 year ago

Text

A Hanging Dying dream forever repeating

AKA: the Via-Verse’s version of Alagadda’s origin.

After working off and on on this for months and debating whether or not I should post it, it’s finally, finally here! This takes some elements from other tales, but I made it my own lol.

Anyways, TW: mind-altering, body horror, death by childbirth, heavy usage of blood, emotional child abuse, plague (which has descriptions of killing people), religious themes, child abandonment, mild gore, medical themes, suicide by hanging, slit throats, and someone snaps their own neck at one point, a knife’s briefly mentioned, cosmic horror, chains, brief mentions of drinking, someone plays with another person’s trauma in an attempt to manipulate them.

Sorry about the long list of TWs, but it’s just text, no pictures.

Anyways, here we go! (The document this is saved on is 12 pages long what is wrong with me lol)

Have you ever heard of Alagadda? Probably not, most haven’t these days. It was a kingdom long ago, before it became something else at the cost of memory. Do you wish to know what happened? …Good.

It all started as most stories do: before anything noteworthily weird happened. There was a king, there was a queen, she was pregnant, they loved each other very much, and the kingdom loved them. Nothing that made it seem too different from most kingdoms.

Except, of course, for one thing. The king had a certain secret, one that would hand the ink and pen to the hands of fate for Alagadda.

He had a love for forbidden magics. His nights spent at the Wanderer’s Library, writing the names of Gods and various sights across the sea of universes. Eventually, the Way he used just closed up, but that didn’t matter. He already had what he needed to grant his greatest wish.

Dyo’s surroundings felt like a dream to him. A faint memory of a dream from centuries back, that was what this was. He knew he wasn’t in Alagadda anymore, and he felt off. Was this fear, or bewilderment? And what were these colors? And why wasn’t this entirely unfamiliar?

He could hear birds chirping somewhere on his left. Why was the sound’s location so clear? And what kind of birds were these, with a song so beautiful and clear, something he could sing along to if he possessed vocal chords?

What was this strange, new, beautiful world? The sky above him, it was blue? Was that the word for it? Why did he know the word?

Gosh, if only he still had his body. Then he could investigate this strange new world he was thrown into. See the birds. Maybe sing.

The king wished that him, his queen, and his future child would live forever. The kingdom loved them, and he loved his queen, so there was no problem he could think of. Plus he had a common trait to most mortals: thantophobia. He was a strange man driven by fear. Not very strange, actually, when comparing him to others.

He whispered into the abyss, and three brothers answered. The youngest draped in darkness, his pale face standing out with a sliver grin. The middle a strange mismash of armor and arms, dust and clutter. The eldest of pale colors, faced in pure shadows and towering over the night sky. Three ways to die. A deal was made, a game of cards for immortality.

He fought for this immortality, he really did. He was able to top the two younger. But the eldest defeated him, far, far too easily, crushing the built up hope. And then they returned to the shadows without a word, leaving him alone.

The queen gave birth three days later. The child survived, but she faded away. The child didn’t cry, covered in their mother’s blood. The king didn’t understand why, and did not hold the child. So they remained, wrapped in dark clothes by the midwife, for someone else to take care of.

Time seemed to return to a familiar melding for Dyo. He couldn’t tell how many hours it took before the sun began to set. He knew that soon, a familiar night would appear. He felt strangely sad, he rather liked this new day. But he couldn’t really hear the birds anymore, and he was rather tired of being stuck in one place. Perhaps something familiar would help this horrid wait for some poor soul to come across him.

However, a new sound came from his right. Faint, but approaching. He had heard variations of this sound back home, and it sometimes appeared in this new daytime, but never was the crushing of leaves back home, and never was it approaching him here.

Footsteps. The stepper was probably wearing boots, from the sound of it. He honestly couldn’t wait, he really wanted to move around this new world. See the birds. He wondered what new colors they would be.

The footsteps got closer and closer, until finally a shadow covered Dyo. He could feel himself smiling. He never smiled back home. He could get used to this new world. He felt a gloved hand grab him, and hold it up to the mysterious face of the new being. The face…

It was probably the most horrific face Dyo had ever seen.

The plague came after that. Sores spotted the people of the kingdom, blood and bile coming from screeching mouths. The screams of the people echoing in the streets for years. The inescapable smell of death. But the king never heard them, never smelled rot or tasted bile.

The king had hidden deep in his castle, sobbing, mourning his queen, and only his queen for all those years. Unaware of the state of his people. He had put the lords in charge of it all, the kingdom and his child. His child…

His child grew strange. They were quiet, and rarely smiled, but weren't mean. They did try to help the people, as much as a child could. Sometimes, when there was no hope that someone would survive, they would sit by their side until they fell, no matter how the doctors warned against it. Strangely, the child never grew ill themself. Despite most people accepting the child, there were… rumors about the kid. Whispers of being the devil’s child and witchcraft, which the child somewhat heard. They didn’t believe it, but… it explained why their father never played with them like other fathers did.

10 years after it all, the king finally listened, having returned from his sorrows. He heard the screams. He saw the blood, and he saw the corpses. But he didn’t blame himself, no.

He blamed the child. He accused them of not being his child, of having been a spirit possessing them sent by the brothers to torment him, bringing the plague with them wherever they went. A monster that must have killed the real child.

The child didn’t understand. They had never met their father before this, but they heard they weren’t supposed to do this. They were supposed to love their children. That was what they saw with the fathers in the street. Was this why he never showed himself? Were they really a monster? A fake? Were those whispers right?

The king ordered the child to be locked away in their room, and never let out. Proclaimed them to be a contamination spreading monster. Some believed and some didn’t, but the ones that didn’t didn’t do anything to stop it.

Perhaps they were supposed to be locked away, perhaps there was something wrong with them. That was what they wondered, anyway. Their father hid away from them for so long, after all. Perhaps this was the reason. Perhaps they were born of dust and shadows, their mother unable to bear the beast she created. Perhaps everyone was right, perhaps they doomed the townsfolk they loved by existing.

The child began to cry.

There was something completely off about the figure’s face. It had the same mask-face as the people back home, but there was something off about its construction. The mask felt too organic, the yellow eyes uncovered, sunken deep in its head. Too expressive, too wrong, that was the eyes. It’s eyes, something changed in Dyo upon seeing the creature’s eyes.

Memories began to appear in his head, of long before, of a state of wakefulness, of trees and blue birds, and colors! So many forgotten colors, bright orange paints like the sky when the sun rose, the green grass and trees he could get lost in, a blue sky, a blue sky! And purple, purple was his closest friend’s favorite.

His childhood friend. The king’s child. By the stars, the king had a child! Why couldn’t he remember more about this lost child?! What happened to them?

Dyo didn’t see the strangely beautiful abomination for long, as it wordlessly put it in a dark brown bag. Brown, he could remember the color of tree trunks and dying leaves and the child’s eyes. The child…

Though now he was in darkness, he could tell the entity would let him out sooner or later, it had too. Perhaps there were more wonderful joys he had forgotten that the entity would show him. Though, why weren’t all these joys back home? Why were they hidden away? And what happened to his friend…

The king tried again the next morning. He knew he may not be able to resurrect his wife, or his child, but he was willing to try to give himself immortality again. Not with the brothers, of course. He simply called into the void, hoping someone, anyone would answer.

Something did come out, draped in dark robes and with a hidden face behind bandages, if it even had a face. They called themself an ambassador of a faceless being. They promised the king much more than immortality. They said they could make the king a God. A God… a God could bring back his wife and child. A God would never die. He could have it all, as long as he did what the thing said. The king smiled for the first time in ten years.

Meanwhile, our child looked out their window. A small wave to a boy their age they got along with, but the boy didn’t see. Perhaps the boy would forget about them. And they’d be up here forever. If they weren't such a clever child, perhaps they would try to jump out the open window. Alas, the child didn’t wish to die. Maybe not wanting to sacrifice themselves for the kingdom was part of being a monster. Not wanting to kill the twisted, sick devil that cursed the town-

It was at that time a crow landed at the window. The child liked crows, even though their father didn’t, as they were always nearby when they went to visit their mother’s grave, back before the tower. It was strangely comforting to them. So the child then took a piece of lavender from their shelf. It died when they plucked it, and it was rotting, being here for years, but the child didn’t care. They placed the lavender in front of the crow, and it picked it up. It almost seemed to smile before flying off. The child felt better. Maybe they were not a monster. Crows seemed more trustworthy than the king anyway.

Time was melding again in the bag. Or perhaps it was Dyo not liking the dark. It felt like he was floating in the darkest void, where no one could hear him scream, even if he had the vocal cords necessary. Gosh, perhaps the entity would give Dyo a body so he could actually talk!

A sudden blast of light and another gloved hand later, he was out of the bag. Apparently the entity lived in some sort of cave. He could make out some sort of cloth in the background. He didn’t know why, but Dyo figured it was called a blanket. People… slept on blankets. They never slept back in Allagadda.

He saw a table with another cloth on it, this one not a blanket for sleep. It was soaked in red blood. Medical cloth. This was a doctor of some sort. The entity placed him on said table, laying on the cave’s wall. The blood was dry, but the blanket was somewhat wet. Attempts of cleaning blood that never really worked. The doctor stared at him, before staying one sentence, in a dark, echoey voice.

“I know you are alive.”

Three years passed, and the kingdom grew strange. The king started to paint over anything that wasn’t black, white, yellow, or red. His favorite colors. More people started to wear masks, masquerade masks, forever. No one seemed to question any of this, and just went along.

The child meanwhile, disappeared. They had attempted escape twice before, and the lack of fighting back once they were caught again made them think escape wouldn’t be much of an issue. As the plague had been fading out, the king simply assumed they returned to the darkness they came from. This is not what happened, they merely escaped, without anyone noticing this time. Though some suspicion was casted on the new young court jester, theories they let out the kid, nothing ever came of it.

The child had grabbed a mask and ran off with it. No one was to see their face, no one was to know who they were. They cut their hair and changed their name. They ran to the town doctor, and claimed to be an orphan child seeking apprenticeship. The doctor took pity on the kid, and took them in. No one realized who they really were. No one claimed them a child of the devil, or a witch.

Dyo wished he could respond to this, he really could. He really wished that he and the entity could have spoken this whole time, about the sky, and the birds, and all these questions that were in his metaphorical brain. But he had no host, and he couldn’t look into this thing’s mind. Maybe he was still getting used to this dimension? He simply frowned. The entity tilted his head a bit.

“Huh, I thought you could still speak in this state. I must have overestimated you, my apologies. Hold on.” The entity picked him up again, and flipped Dyo around. Now they could only see the cave wall. The entity better have a good explanation for this when he actually gets a body.

He could still hear, however. He could hear the bag opening, tools being taken out, as well as something soft. Sewing, wet tearing sounds, soft fleshy noises? How did he not feel any of those in the bag!? And why did the entity think he wouldn’t want to see this over a boring old cave wall?

After what seemed like hours, he was flipped back around to see the entity’s crude creation. Flesh draped over bones, a tear in the “face” to simulate a mouth, bulging eyes and no hair. A small mannikin of flesh.

“I could have done better, but you will just destroy it anyway. No use wasting more spare parts than necessary.” The entity sighed before placing Dyo over its face.

Finally, he was getting pretty bored.

The years went on. No one mentioned the king’s child anymore. It was getting harder to see any colors that weren’t the king’s favorite, even in the yellowing sky.

The people began to change as well. They seemed to be losing themselves, more and more thinking merely of parties and wine. It didn’t affect everyone, but most that weren’t inflicted ran to other kingdoms. Eventually, the only people not affected were the town doctor, and our child. Our child…

Our child wasn’t much of a child anymore, and despite having hid it so well, they never forgot their past. They could still be found laying the last bits of rotting lavender at the Queen’s grave. Sometimes, they’d talk to the crows, simple little greetings, but still.

You see, that one crow in the old prison, it would come back. The child would talk to it eventually, when they ran out of lavender. They were friends. Once, the crow even gave a piece of rotting lavender to the child. They never forgot that. They even took it with them when they escaped, though they had now lost that decaying flower. The child spoke better with crows than people since then.

Though one day, 20 years after the day the king first invoked the three brothers, it was time for the final step of the thing’s plan. No one could have guessed. No one but the king knew the thing. And the king was too entranced to question its word. No one could have guessed what it wanted.

“Thank you, you do not know how frustrating it is to need to talk but have no mouth! I am sincerely grateful-”

“Why are you here?”

“...Huh?”

“Why are you here and not… there?” The entity’s voice was cold and stern. Clearly not a fan of Alagadda.

“Oh, right, I was so ungratefully thrown out of my home for daring to be worried about my king, daring to question the ambassador, daring to care about my people!” Dyo was still, admitting, getting used to puppeting a body in this world, and this body didn’t have all the necessary parts to move, but he tried dramatically throwing his hand to his face and his other hand where his heart would be. The intent could probably be read however, judging by the entity’s reaction.

“Sounds about right. There is no care in that kingdom, no sense. The moment someone begins to fall out of line…”

“Not a fan huh?”

“Of course not! That kingdom is an artery in the body of the pestilence. It is filled with animal instincts, only chaos, consuming, destruction with no rhyme or reason, and that ambassador would not have it any other way.”

“...Have you been there before?” A potential way back. As much as he liked this new world, he did want to go back. He couldn’t get revenge without going back. The entity hesitated before giving their answer.

“Yes. I am waiting until I have made enough progress on my cure to retur-”

“How did you get there? Have some unfinished business I need to, well, finish.” The entity froze. Something about that question thawed away all that cold from the entity. In there, somewhere, was something afraid to lose him.

“You… Want to go back there? What could there be to justify entering that place again, when you have just begun to find yourself again?”

Dyo tilted the fleshy thing’s head, and paused.

They found the king in the middle of his court, hanging by a rope. But no one seemed to care. They simply threw him in the grave, not bothering to remove the rope or even bury him. He just laid there, as crows feasted on the body. Even the town doctor, so far unaffected by anything, found herself uncaring to the king. Her apprentice never really cared for the king at all anyway.

That night, however, they still couldn’t sleep. They still wondered what could have happened to prompt this, so they looked out the window. What if the king really did love them, and this was their fault? No, that couldn’t be the case. Perhaps they’d see a crow outside, something to ground them in reality.

However, they didn’t see that. Instead, they saw… something slowly moving, for walking or even stepping didn’t feel right, through the street, rope around their neck. They couldn’t make out a single other feature, but enough was enough, and they could read context clues, they were not sticking around any longer. The town was going mad, and the apprentice and the doctor could not do anything about it. They had to leave, they had to. They panicked, putting on their mask, before they ran downstairs in an attempt to get their superior out with them…

The doctor was dead. Simply lying there, throat slit. Knife next to her. Blood was everywhere around her. Far too much blood for this type of wound.

The apprentice was horrified, and ran outside. It didn’t matter how, they had to get out of here as quickly as possible, and never look back. They’d mourn later.

But as they ran, they heard something behind them. Something was chasing them, but that wasn’t what they heard. It must have been floating, as they could also hear faint sounds of wind. No, the apprentice heard the thing talk. The voice sounded like a wind chime, neutral and sing-song. The apprentice didn’t want to listen to what it was saying. It clearly had bad intentions.

“THIS IS MY KINGDOM NOW. ACCEPT YOUR DESTINY AND TURN AROUND.”

The apprentice just kept running, and running, and not turning back. This wasn’t a home anymore. They didn’t know anything about the thing, but they knew the thing didn’t have good intentions. They knew their kingdom wouldn’t be a good place to be. Especially with the blood they felt on the ground.

And they did it. They ran all the way out. Perhaps they were tired, perhaps they thought they were safe, but they looked back. They’d never been anywhere else before.

A chain wrapped around their torso. Knocking them down, pulling them back into the kingdom, back with that… thing.

“YOU FOOLISH, FOOLISH CREATURE. YOUR DYING BLOOD WILL FLOW TO THE HIDDEN ONE, AND YOU SOUL WILL ROT IN YOUR COT FOREVERMORE. NO ONE WILL REMEMBER YOU. IT IS YOUR PURPOSE.”

The apprentice was terrified, they really were, but they didn’t show it. They knew damn well that no matter where this was going, they would die. But they knew the thing wanted them to bleed as they died. So maybe, if they died bloodlessly, they’d be safe from the… thing. They didn’t know, but they didn’t want this thing to have their soul. If they were right, perhaps they’d be somewhere safe, far away from this thing. Perhaps their mom would be there. Their knowledge of anatomy left them with one real option now, even if they were scared to die. It was on their own terms, at least.

Before the apprentice could fully be dragged back into the town, they wrapped their shaking hands around their own neck, and turned it as hard as they could.

“...what do you mean by finding myself? I’ve always known myself!” Dyo smiled, trying to ignore how much he only remembered after waking up here. That didn’t mean he wasn’t the same old Dyo. The entity’s head tilted.

“Alagadda used to not be a dream-state pocket world. It was a kingdom here once, until the Ambassador appeared. He changed people into caricatures of themselves obsessed with the king. Take yourself, for instance.” Dyo wasn’t smiling anymore. He could remember it now, figments of what Alagadda was. Blue sky. Their friend, the king’s child, a child around his age at the time, who he was close with, but disappeared one day, and then everything was foggy.

“When I knew you, you loved theater so much. You were so happy, I remember your smile so well, even after all this time. You wanted to be an actor. You became the court jester instead, suddenly obsessed with the king. It took a toll on you. You were miserable the last time I saw you, and when we met again today, I assumed you were warped so much that you were just… gone.”

Dyo remembered a lot more as they said this. The theater. There was a theater, where no actors killed themselves at the end. Where dying in the play didn’t mean anything for you. He had wanted to be there, with the actors themselves. They seemed to be having so much fun, and he’d practice his silly little improvised monologues to his friend. His friend, his only friend at the time…

They still couldn’t remember who this entity was. Strange. Maybe if he played his cards right, he could get the entity to jog his memory…

“I missed you. I mourned you. I, I should stop. This is a lot to take in-”

“No, please continue. Who, who was I, to you?”

It didn’t matter, it didn’t matter, it didn’t have to matter! The king doubted this kid even existed, they didn’t have to be in the kingdom. It wouldn’t affect the plan at all. They were entirely optional, and had willingly thrown away a chance at eternity. Strange. They did not accept the purpose of being locked away forever. So they left the child to rot away, feasted on by bugs and crows.

The king was hanging at their throne again, twitching, faint breaths, but no words. The three lords and the court jester each also hanged in a different corner of the court, each noose done too tight, blood dripping from their necks. The Ambassador held up a golden cup, and blood, all of the blood throughout the entire kingdom, flowed into it. The Ambassador went to the twitching, shaking king, who began to slowly reach for the figure.

“WITH THESE, THEIR BLOOD, IT IS THE HANGED KING’S.”

They held up the cup for the king, who held it himself. He held the cup behind his veil, to his small, rotting lips. He began to sip from the cup.

And then he dropped it.

“...We were close, very close.” The entity said. Dyo simply waited for them to continue, but they didn’t.

“...And…”

“My apologies. I tend not to dwell on the past, considering how warped the kingdom has become, so I tend not to talk about it. No one has heard of the kingdom anyway.”

“Heh. Strange that I can’t remember you though. Can you turn into a bird or something?” the entity let out the smallest of laughs.

“No, no, I just was successful in leaving my old life behind.”

In all fairness, Dyo wasn’t entirely honest anymore. His disappeared friend and this mysterious person claiming to have been his friend… it couldn’t entirely be a coincidence. But something felt… off. Something else happened. This wasn’t just an Alagaddan who left, something changed about them. Sure, there was no influence from the Ambassador, but there was something else Dyo couldn’t put a metaphorical finger on. Maybe if they played their cards right, he could get the figure to reveal it. Reveal if they could be friends again.

“Well then, what’s your new life like? This boring old cave doesn’t really jog the imagination, you know?” Maybe they’d give away a God or two with the details.

“I seek to cure the pestilence.”

“For anyone in particular?”

“Humanity.”

“...Why, though?”

“I believe that curing such a horrible ailment is simply the right thing to do, and it is why I am still here.”

Ok this wasn’t going anywhere. Why they are still here, though…

“What do you mean, why you’re still here? What happened to you?”

The hanged king was dead, the hanged king was alive. The kingdom was dead, the kingdom was alive. No one was truly dead, and the only one truly alive was the Ambassador, the real one in control. Everything was on repeat. Everyone would go through the motions of partying, drinking, forever and ever. The kingdom didn’t exist and it did exist. It was somewhere else. No one back on Earth remembered it.

Everyone would go through their motions, like a play, of sorts. Everyone had their roles to play. The lords walked with the people, and the king wrigged and withered chained on his throne, but the Ambassador was the one in charge. It was like a dream for them. Everyone only remembered what they wanted them to remember, and that didn’t include that child.

That child… the Ambassador barely thought about them. They were dead. They were dead, and they’d never know what the kingdom became. That was that.

The Ambassador was intelligent. They knew everything that had gone done in the walls of the kingdom, the many that entered, the few who’d left. They had trapped another goddess, one of the moon, in a cycle of trying to destroy the king, being attacked and almost killed by them, before returning to the sky to rest, before coming down again once per year. They even had found a use for the prison meant to contain that child, keeping the bird who’d betrayed the queen in there before repeating the cycle. They knew a lot.

But they were not entirely correct about that child.

“Whatever do you mean by that, Dyo?”

“It sounds like something should’ve killed you, but didn’t. Whatever happened-”

“Enough about me. I am afraid I have come across much more selfish than I truly am, I do not wish to dwell any more on me, let alone my past.”

“No, no. Tell me what happened. Now.” Dyo was getting impatient. This being clearly was hiding something. Dyo didn’t like when things were hidden. He needed to know it all.

“No.”

“I don’t think you know what’s really happened to me, do you? I… I am royalty these days! You better explain exactly who you are now!” Dyo forced the body up, and stared down the being. They didn’t look like much, muscle-wise.

“No.”

“You have no one, do you? That’s why you’re all alone here. No one would miss you if I were to-”

The entity ripped the mask right off the body, cutting Dyo off.

“I really let myself hope…” it said. Its eyes were filled with fire. But now, Dyo felt a bit more… comfortable here. He could speak in the entity’s mind.

“How rude. I bet if your father cared about you he’d be very disappointed.”

Dyo couldn’t really see where the entity was taking him, but that remark seemed to make them go faster. Seemed to, as they were rather slow either way.

“Why are you gripping me so hard? I thought we were friends!”

“We were, yes. You have made it clear that we are not now.” They did loosen up a bit though. Nice to know Dyo had found a way under their skin.

“Didn’t you miss me?”

“Yes, and I still do. Here we are.”

They were back in that field. A couple of dark birds flew off as they arrived. Maybe they were the same ones from before, maybe not.

The entity left him on the ground, face down, before beginning to leave. Dyo could not believe this rudeness!

“Hey, don’t leave me like this! At least let me see the stars!”

The entity didn’t respond.

It all started unlike how most stories do, with a young human snapping their own neck in a final act of defiance towards a God. Said God had then returned to their kingdom, but the human had woken up somewhere else.

Said somewhere wasn’t too different from the place they left, but there were more trees, and there was no kingdom. Or was there? It was very dark, the person couldn’t tell. Was this what death was like? They slowly got up, putting a hand on a tree. No reason to stay here all alone, when they could explore this strange world. …Until he heard a coo behind him.

Turning around, they saw someone. A crow. The person let out a small smile.

“Hello,” Said the human. After everything that happened that night, it was nice to see something, anything familiar. They sat down in front of the crow.

And then it wasn’t a crow. It was a being wearing shadows like a robe over their pale body. Its gray eyes stared into the person, into all they ever were. Horrible and beautiful.

“Oh.” The human did not react with fear, or even shock. Strangely, the figure still brought them comfort. Perhaps the being had been there their whole life, under the appearance of the crow. Perhaps it was some sort of guardian angel. Or perhaps it was one strange coincidence. It didn’t matter anymore.

“GREETINGS.” A voice akin to if whispers in the darkness spoke loudly instead came from the thing.

The two simply sat there for a bit. Until they began to talk again. About the kingdom, and about the thing that warped it in its own image. About the thing that drove it. About the curse that was still in the human’s blood, even if they escaped the kingdom. Even if their mind was clean. This burning red malice, it still lingered in the kingdom. In humanity. And whether they liked it or not, the human was a part of this now.

A deal was struck there. The king was never correct about their child’s identity, they were never some spreader of disease sent by the brothers to torment the king. They were merely a child who wanted to help the people of Alagadda. But they were not a mere child anymore, and the people of Alagadda could not be helped anymore either. They were consumed by a plague of madness, one the human could never hope to stop with what they currently knew.

So, the human would perfect a cure to the madness of spilt blood, eradicate it, and then they would return to the darkness they were in now. Or die trying. This was to be the human’s purpose, to cleanse the red-stained madness, one they took without hesitation. Only once it was gone, or if the physical burden on their rotten form grew too much, should they return here. To be a savior, to free the people of Alagadda, and help this… thing, that the king was wrong to use as an insult, who was better family than the king. This was something that the human accepted.

…Oh, who am I kidding?

They were not human anymore.

Come on, where was it? They knew it was somewhere in this journal- aw, there it was, right at the beginning. A simple list of names. Not every name, just the ones they could remember. A collection of them, lined up neatly. So many still unaccounted for.

The people of Alagadda. All gone from life and from memory. They couldn’t hope to remember every single name, but they put the ones they could here, as a memorial. It was necessary, since they were the only one who could mourn Alagadda.

They had hesitated at first, reading his name again, but it was needed at this point. His name was one of the first ones written, as the memories of him were some of the fresher, even now. They were close once, very close. But he changed. Sure, the kingdom changed everyone, but once away from the kingdom, he was still much more cruel. They did not wish for any part of this man to be remembered anymore, but they couldn’t just erase it. They couldn’t erase that boy who saw he was having a bad day and created poetry on the spot just to make them feel better, playing in the flowers, laughing together…

The doctor crossed out Dyo’s name. Never again, not even in death. Never ever, ever again. That boy was gone.

…Though, they figured the old them was gone too. They were not a quiet child worried about a father who never looked at him with love. They couldn’t care less about the king anymore. They were helping people now. They were untraceable to the kingdom now, no one needed to know, no one, no one.

No matter. It still hurt, just how much the two had grown apart. Perhaps it was meant to be, the two being driven apart. Maybe they should’ve stopped being sentimental and smashed the damned mask to smithereens.

This was why they didn’t sleep that night. What if Dyo came back? What if somehow, he saw the light? Or what if he came back to attack them again, and they had another chance to crush him?

But all throughout the night, Dyo did not return. It was quiet. Under different circumstances, they believed it would have been calming. But they couldn’t relax, Dyo could show up again, or someone sick could show up at their door needing help.

But as the sun rose, no one showed up. A part of them was sad Dyo didn’t show up again, but they buried that part of themselves. Their time as a child, as an allagadan, ended centuries ago. They were a professional, a doctor, they couldn’t keep thinking about the past, there were people they needed to save.

#via #via rambles #scp #scp foundation #scp fandom #scp alagadda #scp 2264 #the hanged king #the ambassador #scp three brothers death #the three brothers #scp three brothers #scp 035 #scp 049

21 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 6 months ago

Text

Chapter 16

Warnings: 18+ readers only, smut, orgasm deprivation, punishment sex

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

"You said it yourself!" I protested, "The Dark Lord-"

"Don't call him that." Severus snapped.

"-is trying to figure out where I am! He's trying to find dad to torture the information out of him." I continued as though Severus hadn't just interrupted me in the middle of our argument. "If he knows, or at least thinks that he knows, I'm with Harry and the others, he'll lay off. His curiosity will be abated. It's a win-win Severus."

"Unless, he takes you." Severus snapped.

"He's not actually going to be there himself!" I protested, throwing my hands up in the air. "Severus, I know what I'm doing."

"It's not safe." Severus spat. "I refuse to let you go-"

"You can't actually stop me." I replied, infuriated. "Don't you understand that I'm trying to protect my father-"

"I'm trying to protect you!" Severus snarled, slamming his fist against the desk. The room was silent for a second before Remus started to wail from his crib.

I stormed over, taking Remus out gently however, bouncing him on my hip.

"I can protect myself." I hissed. "I will be going to Lovegoods' house tomorrow and you will not stop me. I will do exactly what I need to, to get The Dark Lord-"

"Don't. Call him that." Severus breathed out through gritted teeth.

"-to believe I'm with Harry. And why can't I call him that? It's better than his actual name." I rolled my eyes, rocking side to side as Remus started to coo softly, his tears already dried up.

"Because only his followers call him that and he doesn't own you." Severus muttered, fingers tightly gripping the back of his chair.

I sighed, exhausted. It was late at night and I had thought breaking the idea of going to Lovegood's tomorrow as we got ready for bed was better than telling him in the morning. Clearly, I had been wrong. I should've let him steamed over it the entire day.

"I don't know why you fight me on this stuff." I said in a much more even tone than before, putting Remus back in his crib after kissing his forehead. He let out a soft whimper, scrunching his nose, before settling into sleep. "You and I both know that I'm going to get my way."

"Someone ought to change that." Severus purred, coming up behind me. I let out a squeak as he lifted me up, tossing me over his shoulder. I squirmed, to no avail, before he was tossing me back down on the bed.

He looked down at me for a second, before he waved his wand. I let out a surprised gasp, finding my limbs tied to the bed posts with intricate rope that was wrapped around my skin.

"I could just leave you like this." Severus whispered, starting to kiss down on my neck. His hands roamed softly over my body, leaving burning trails where his fingers caressed my skin. "You wouldn't be able to leave then, would you?"

I breathed out and then my breath hitched in my throat as Severus suddenly wrapped his hand around my throat, giving it an almost gentle squeezed. "Would you?"

"No sir." I whimpered, feeling the slick gather between my legs.

Severus gently released my throat, continuing to explore my body with his lips and hands. I was both startled and turned on. We very rarely delved into this type of play, preferring to make love more than anything else. But when we did do this play, I craved his dominance as much as he craved my submission.

He trailed his wand down my body now, before settling the tip against my clit. I whimpered, squeezing my eyes shut as slight vibrations.

"No." Severus said, the wand lifting from my clit. The pleasure stopped flowing and I whimpered, letting my eyes flutter open. "You keep your eyes on me."

"Yes sir." I said, my voice sounding like it was close to whining. I hated it when he deprived me of pleasure.

"I wish I could spank you." Severus murmured lowly, trailing his wand down the inside of my leg. The vibrations were there, but giving me nothing and I had to keep myself from whimpering pathetically in need. "What a shame. I guess I'll just have to deprive you instead."

The wand was back on my clit the minute the last word left his mouth. I tensed in my bonds, my body feeling like it was on fire again. A special tingly feeling in my toes started and I wiggled them, trying to work through it. "Sir please." I begged softly. "Please."

"Are you going to Lovegoods' tomorrow?" Severus asked softly.

"Sir." I whined, not wanting to give him an answer.

"Not the answer I want." Severus said, whipping his wand away again. I nearly cried, my legs jerking as they tried to come together, but they were tied to tightly. "Let's try this again, shall we baby?"

He did it four more times and I was on the verge of desperate tears by the time he had done the the most recent one.

"Elizabeth." Severus said in a serious voice.

"I'll be safe." I said, a small hiccup leaving my throat and that little action started the waterworks I'd been holding back. "Severus I need to do this, please! It's safe. Just please let me go."

Severus sighed, hanging his head over mine so that our foreheads were touching. His hands were shaking as he rested them on my hips. Finally, he nodded his head once and moved the wand back down to my clit. "Cum." He whispered, and I did immediately, cumming hard as he moved the wand down, shoving it into my cunt. "That's it baby."

I rode the orgasm out, before sighing in content, relaxing against the pillows. I was still needy, wanting him to fuck me, but he waved his wand and put it to the side, crawling into bed, pulling me into his arms. "I really, really need you to be safe Elizabeth. Do you understand?"

"Yes." I whispered, relaxing into him. "I can swear it Severus. I'll be safe."

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

My tail flicked as I sat underneath a bush of orange fruit that was otherwise known as Dirigible plums. I knew that Harry, Ron, and Hermione would be coming any moment now, but I was getting uncomfortable. It was cold, the wind blowing through my coat.

I let out a huff, which came out an annoyed mew, before I heard feet crunching and then heard Ron's voice say, "It's theirs, look."

They opened the gate and I crept out from underneath the bush. Harry pulled the invisibility cloak off of himself as the three of them looked down at me with grins on their faces.

"Well hello Elizabeth." Harry said with a grin.

I turned human, brushing dirt off of my skirt, blushing a little as they took in the state of my body, seeing that I was pregnant again.

"Hello." I said quickly, turning towards the door.

"You've been with Snape?" Harry asked, his voice near a growl.

"I told you before." I said slightly coolly, "I need his potions expertise." I glanced over at him. "And despite everything Harry, he still loves me."

Harry kept his mouth closed and Hermione rapped on the door quickly. The door was flung open almost immediately and there was Xenophilius, standing in the doorway. He was bearfoot, wearing only a nightshirt which was covered in stains and marks. His hair looked like it had snarls in it, bunched up around his head.

"What? What is it? Who are you? What do you want?" He asked, his voice high-pitched, his gaze falling upon each of us in turn, unrecognizing until he saw Harry.

"Hello, Mr. Lovegood. I'm Harry, Harry Potter." Harry said, quite unnecessarily in my opinion as his face had been plastered to every newspaper front and window for the past six months.

Mr. Lovegood did not take Harry's hand, his eyes fixed on the scar only, until his lazy eye shifted over to look at me, reminding me just a tad of Uncle Moody. My heart clenched down in pain and I took a deep breath.

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

"I. . . I'm not sure that's advisable. Rather a shock. . . my word. . . I. . . I'm afraid I don't really think I ought to-"

"It won't take long." I could hear the disappointment in Harry's voice, but I felt a pang of kindness towards Mr. Lovegood. Despite losing his daughter to the Death Eaters, despite knowing that turning Harry- and possibly me- over to the Death Eaters would free his daughter, he was still hesitant to do so. He had still been looking for a way to send us away instead.

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

To my surprise, the first room we came to stand in was a kitchen as the door was slammed shut behind us. There was no living room or sitting room, just a kitchen, along with a long spiral staircase leading up into the rest of the house.

As the house was a perfect circle, the kitchen appliances had been fitted to curve with the walls. The walls themselves were painted with nature ideograms in bright, primary colours. I had to blink several times to get used to it.

"You'd better come up." Mr. Lovegood said, taking the staircase.

We followed him up into another room that seemed to be half a sitting room and half a work room. There were piles of objects stacked up everywhere, mostly books and papers, sticking out in uneven ways. There were creature models, hanging from the ceiling, though I didn't recognize a single one of them.

There was a printing press in the corner, which Mr. Lovegood quickly strode over to throw a cloth over. I grimaced a little, turning away from it.

"Why have you come here?"

"Mr. Lovegood- what's that?" Hermione asked with a cry of shock. I decided to seat myself in one of the chairs, away from the Erumpent horn that I knew would explode later one.

"It is the horn of a Crumple- Horned Snorkack."

"No it isn't!"

"Hermione, now's not the moment-"

"But Harry, it's an Erumpent horn! It's a Class B Tradeable Material and it's an extraordinarily dangerous thing to have in a house!"

"How d'you know it's an Erumpent horn?" Ron asked and like me, started away from the horn.

"Hagrid brought one to Care of Magical Creatures last year." I said, "It exploded when I threw a pebble at it. It was fantastic."

Harry also joined Ron in backing away just slightly.

"I don't know where you go it-"

"I bought it two weeks ago from a delightful young wizard who knew of my interest in the exquisite Snorkack. A Christmas Surprise for my Luna. Now, why exactly have you come here, Mr. Potter?"

"We need some help."

"Ah, help. Hmm. 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? In that magazine of yours?" Ron asked immediately.

"Er- yes, I have expressed that view. However-" He said, glancing behind him at the covered printing press.

"That's for everyone else to do, not you personally?" Ron asked.

Mr. Lovegood did not answer for a long time.

"Where's Luna?" I asked softly, looking up at Mr. Lovegood. "Let's see what she thinks."

Mr. Lovegood did not like my question, as I knew he wouldn't. In a shaky voice he responded, "Luna is down at the stream, fishing for Freshwater Plimpies. She. . . she will like to see you. I'll go and call her and then- yes, very well. I shall try to help you."

"Cowardly old wart." Ron muttered after Mr. Lovegood had gone downstairs and out the front door. "Luna's got ten times his guts."

"He's probably worried about what'll happen if the Death Eaters find out I was here." Harry defended the man.

"Well, I agree with Ron. Awful old hypocrite, telling everyone else to help you and trying to worm out o fit himself. And for heaven's sake keep away from that horn."

I closed my eyes as the room fell silent, Harry crossing the room to look out the window. I could feel Hermiones' eyes on me, but I would not look at her, not wanting to start any new conversations about Severus. But me ignoring her did not good.

"How's Remus?" Hermione asked.

I opened my eyes to look at her. "He's really good."

"Where did you leave him to come here?" Hermione asked softly.

I sighed, crossing my arms over my chest. "He's with his father." There was a pause of silence and I said, "You don't have to like Severus, you can continue to hate him. But he is not a danger for me or Remus."

"I don't like you fraternizing with the enemy." Harry finally said.

"I'm on your side always Harry." I said softly. "But I need him and he's kept me safe this long."

We fell silent as Mr. Lovegood came back with a tea tray.

"Ah, you have spotted my pet invention." He said, noticing that Harry was standing near a crude representation of Ravenclaw's diadem. "Modeled, fittingly enough, upon the head of the beautiful Rowena Ravenclaw. 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure!' These are the Wrackspurt siphons- to remove all sources of distraction from the thinker's immediate area. Here, a billywig propeller, to induce an elevated frame of mind. Finally, the Dirigible Plum, so as to enhance the ability to accept the extraordinary."

He came back to the tea tray, which he had shoved into Hermione's arms, putting it down on the table. "May I offer you all an infusion of Gurdyroots, we make it ourselves. 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."

I did exactly that, reaching for the sugar bowl and picking up five sugar cubes to suck on.

"Now, how may I help you, Mr. Potter?"

"Well, it's about that symbol you were wearing around your neck at Bill and Fleur's wedding, Mr. Lovegood. We wondered what it meant."

Mr. Lovegood looked surprised, like this was not the question or request he had been expecting. "Are you referring to the sign of the Deathly Hallows?"

"The Deathly Hallows?" Harry asked.

"That's right. 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 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."

"I'm sorry. I still don't really understand." Harry responded, taking a sip of his drink and I swear his face almost turned purple, putting the cup down quickly. I tossed him a sugar cube.

"Well, you see, believers seek the Deathly Hallows."

"But what are the Deathly Hallows?" Hermione asked.

"I assume that you are all familiar with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'?"

"Yes." Hermione, Ron, and I all answered, though Harry answered in the negative.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter, the whole thing starts with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'. . . I have a copy somewhere. . ." He looked around at the mess of books and such and I rolled my eyes. I would have a better chance of reciting the story from memory than him finding the book in time.

"I've got a copy, Mr. Lovegood, I've got it right here." Hermione said, pulling the book from her bag as she said so.

"The original? Well then, why don't you read it aloud? Much the best way to make sure we all understand."

"Er. . . all right." Hermione said awkwardly, opening the book up and started to read, "There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight-"

"Midnight, our mum always told us." Ron interrupted and I threw a sugar cube at his head in annoyance. "Sorry, I just think it's a bit spookier if it's midnight!"

"Yeah, because we really need a bit more fear in our lives." Harry said and I let out a short laugh, "Go on, Hermione."

"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, but Death spoke to them?" Harry asked, sounding alarmed. I reached across the table, picking up the bowl of sugar cubes.

"It's a fairy tale, Harry!"

"Right, sorry. Go on."

"And Death spoke to them. 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 an, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always wind 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 older brother.

"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."

I shuddered, because I knew that was what I wanted. If only I could have a stone to bring everyone I loved back from the dead, then I didn't need to go through all of this trouble. But. . . they would not come back whole anyways. It was best to let the dead stay dead, no matter how much that pained me.

"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 that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility."

"Death's got an Invisibility Cloak?" Harry interrupted once more, much to my annoyance.

"So he can sneak up on people. Sometimes he gets bored of running at them, flapping his arms and shrieking. . . sorry, Hermione." I smiled a little at Ron. I had forgotten what humor was over the past couple of months.

"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."

I sighed to myself, looking out the window. The Lovegoods had a good amount of land, mostly sprawling green hills that weren't so green at the moment since they were covered with snow. The patches of grass that could be seen were more of a yellow-green-brown colour. There was a sliver of blue that ran off into the distance that must've been the river Luna would fish at, had she truly been home.

"Well there you are."

I gave a start, not even realizing Hermione had finished the story off. The book now laid closed in her lap. "Sorry?" She asked in confusion.

"Those are the Deathly Hallows," Mr. Lovegood said, picking up a quill, pulling a piece of parchment from the many trapped in the books. "The Elder Wand. The Resurrection Stone. The Cloak of Invisibility." He said as he drew the triangle with the line and circle in the middle of it. "Together, the Deathly Hallows."

"But there's no mention of the words 'Deathly Hallows' in the story." Hermione said.

I rolled my eyes. Wasn't that every story? Every story had a hidden message or symbol in it that wasn't verbally said. It wasn't like at the end of Cinderella they said, 'work hard and it'll pay off!' That's why the story was told in the first place.

"Well, of course not. 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 Hollows, which if united, will make the possessor master of Death."

It was silent for a short moment until Lovegood continued, "Luna ought to have enough Plimpies soon."

That was his code for, 'Luna is almost home', and my heart clenched in pity for the man, knowing that wasn't quite true.

"When you say 'master of Death-"

"Master. Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer."

"But then. . . do you mean. . . that you believe these objects- these Hallows- actually exist?"

"Well, of course."

"But, Mr. Lovegood, how can you possibly believe-"

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

I was going to defend her, but then thought there was a bit of truth to that. Truly, Hermione did have a hard time believing in things that weren't in front of her, that weren't instructed about specifically in books. Hermione was many things; brave, loyal, smart, kind, loving. But imagination was not her strong suit.

"Perhaps you ought to try the hat, Hermione." Ron said, voice straining as he tried not to laugh.

"Mr. Lovegood, 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?"

I quickly shot her a look as she opened her mouth, but then she closed it again, glancing at me and then at Harry and Ron.

"Exactly," Mr. Lovegood said, sounding victorious. "None of you have ever seen such a thing. The possessor would be immeasurably rich, would he not?"

"Not necessarily." I mumbled under my breath.

"All right, 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." Mr. Lovegood said plainly.

Hermione became rather outraged at that. "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's anything's real if the only basis for believing in it is that nobody's proved it doesn't exist!"

"Yes, you could. I am glad to see that you are opening your mind a little."

"It makes sense, actually." I said slowly. "I mean, muggles don't believe in magic, right? They don't think that there are such things as unicorns or dragons or broomsticks. Perhaps there is a higher magic than us, something that hides from us the way we hide from Muggles. It is possible, is it not?"

"Indeed." Mr. Lovegood said, looking thoughtful.

"What about the Elder Wand?" Harry asked. "You think that exists too?"

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

"Which is what?" Harry asked.

"Which is that the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner, if he is to be truly master of it. 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 killed? The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history."

"They didn't exactly pay attention in History of Magic." I mumbled, smiling to myself, winking at Harry.

"So where do you think the Elder Wand is now?" Ron asked, glancing over at me. I ignored him. I knew exactly where the Elder Wand is and I knew better than to touch it.

"Alas who knows? 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."

"Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?"

The name meant nothing to be and I frowned a little.

"But you have been misleading me, young woman! I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many of us Questers believe that the Peverell's have everything- everything!- to do with the Hallows!"

"Who are the Peverells?" Ron and I asked at the same time. Both Harry and Hermione seemed surprised with me at that, not that I blamed them. I usually had all the answers.

"That was the name on the grave with the mark on it, in Godric's Hollow, Ignotus Peverell." Hermione answered.

"Exactly! The sign of the Deathly Hallows on Ignotus's grave is conclusive proof!"

"Of what?" Ron asked.

"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!" He got to his feet and then looked over, "You will stay for dinner? Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimpy soup."

"Probably to show the Poisoning Department at St. Mungo's." Ron muttered underneath his breath. I snorted.

"What do you think?" Harry asked Hermione and I as Mr. Lovegood was downstairs now, moving around, clattering dishes.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione answered first, "it's a pile of utter rubbish. This can't be what the sign really means. This must just be his weird take on it. What a waste of time."

"I s'pose this is the man who brought us Crumple-Horned Snorkacks." Ron said skeptically, backing Hermione up.

"You don't believe it either?" Harry asked.

"Nah, that story's just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn't it? 'Don't go looking for trouble, don't pick fights, don't go messing around with stuff that's best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, and you'll be okay.' Come to think of it, maybe that story's why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky."

"What are you talking about?"

"One of those superstitions, isn't it? 'May-born wiches will marry Muggles.' 'Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.' 'Wand of elder, never prosper.' You must've heard them. My mum's full of them." Ron said.

"Harry and I were raised by Muggles," Hermione said while I rolled my eyes. "We were taught different superstitions. I think you're right. It's just a morality tale, it's obvious which gift is best, which one you'd chosen-"

"Cloak." Hermione said.

"The wand." Ron said.

"The stone." Harry and I said at the same time, though I said mine more mindlessly, mine on other things.

I tuned out the rest of the conversation, wondering how much longer I would be putting this facade up before the Death Eaters showed up. I wondered how much my presence would affect things. After all, looking at it like I wasn't here, they would get away. But my presence was already a permanent fixture, so Voldemort would be looking for me. I had to do something about it, get him off of dads' back and keep him safe.

Eventually, I was jolted back when Harry said, "Elizabeth? What do you think?"

I glanced around at all of them and shrugged, "I haven't been looking into the future much and I don't know much about this story. I do know that there's some proof of an unbeatable wand, or at least stories of it throughout history. And obviously, your invisibility cloak is very different from other invisibility cloaks. The stone however. . . technically it doesn't bring back the dead so I suppose it could possibly exist but I feel that if it was found, there would be more documentation on it."

We lapsed back into silence, before Harry slowly stood after some time, moving upstairs. Out of curiosity, I followed him into Luna's room, despite Hermione calling after us not to.

It was as I expected. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and myself were painted on the ceiling. But something I had not expected was Trang to be in there as well. All of us still linked by the golden ink of friends. I wondered how much time it had taken her.

"Harry. . . the room." I murmured.

Harry descended the stairs as Mr. Lovegood ascended the kitchen ones. "Mr. Lovegood, where's Luna?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where's Luna?"

"I- I've already told you. She is down at Bottom Bridge, fishing for Plimpies."

"So why have you only set that tray for four?" I asked.

There was no noise except the shaking of silverware as they rattled in the tray, and the printing press that sounded like it was going to die any second. I stepped down another step.

"I don't think Luna has been here for weeks. Her clothes are gone, her bed hasn't been slept in. Where is she? And why do you keep looking out of the window?"

He dropped the tray, freezing as the other three drew their wands. I slipped mine into my hand as well.

"Harry look at this." Hermione said, picking up one of the magazines.

"The Quibbler's going for a new angle, then?" Harry asked after a moment. "Is that what you were doing when you went into the garden, Mr. Lovegood? Sending an owl to the Ministry?"

"They took my Luna. 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 Harry and Elizabeth over?" Hermione finished.

"No deal, get out of the way, we're leaving." Ron said.

"They will be here at any moment. I must save Luna. I cannot lose Luna. You must not leave."

Despite the predicament, I could only feel pity for the man. He did not know that they would save Luna, so he thought he was going to lose her. I could only imagine the terrible things I would do to get Remus back. Because that's what parents did: protect their children no matter what.

"HARRY!" Hermione screamed, jolting me out of my thoughts once more. I should've gotten more sleep last night, I kept fazing out.

Harry tackled Ron and Hermione as Mr. Lovegood drew his wand. His spell hit the Erumpent horn, which made the room explode.

My back slammed into the metal rungs of the stairs I had still been standing on. I curled in on myself as heavy books and other objects rained down on me. I was going to have a lot of bruises tomorrow morning.

I groaned, sitting up as everything settled. Harry was also raising himself up. I couldn't see Ron or Hermione from where I was. I gingerly stood up, wiping off white plaster dust from my traveling cloak.

I heard the door downstairs crash open and then a furious voice said, "Didn't I tell you there was no need to hurry, Travers? Didn't I tell you this nutter was just raving as usual?"

"No. . . no. . . upstairs. . . Potter! And Kane!" Mr. Lovegood croaked out after he let out a squeal of pain for whatever they had done to him. I bit my bottom lip.

"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 headdress? And the week before-" There was another bang and squeal. I flinched. "- when you thought we'd give her back if you offered us proof there are Crumple" -bang, flinch- "Headed" -bang flinch- "Snorkacks?"

"No- no- I beg you! It really is Potter and Kane! Really!"

"And now it turns out you only called us here to try and blow us up!"

"The place looks like it's about to fall in, Selwyn. The stairs are completely blocked. Could try clearing it? Might bring the place down."

"You lying piece of filfth." Selwyn was content to ignore everything everyone was saying, "You've never seen Potter or Kane in your life, have you? Thought you'd lure us back here to kill us, did you? And you think you'll get your girl back like this."

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

"Homenum Revlio."

I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep my gasp from being audible, but it didn't matter because I heard Hermione gasp from behind a pile of debris.

"There's some up there all right, Selwyn."

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

"You can have your little girl Lovegood, if you get up those stairs and bring me down Harry Potter and Elizabeth Kane. 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 you a bit of your daughter for you to bury."

I wiped away a tear that had come down my cheek at some point. I quickly moved across the debris, helping Harry out. Harry, Hermione, and I climbed our way over to Ron, Harry having to help me over some of the largest objects.

"All right. Do you trust me, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

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

"Me? But Harry-"

"Just do it." I hissed. "Harry, hold Hermione's hand. Ron, grab my shoulder. Hermione, you obliviate Lovegood, I'll blast the floor open."

We waited, hearing Mr. Lovegood scrabbling against the furniture that had blocked the stairwell.

I waited, before I finally heard Hermione shout, "Obliviate!"

"Deprimo!" I shouted, pointing my wand at the floor. I could feel Ron's hand tighten on my shoulder. We fell through the floor, and my eyes searched out the Death Eaters. I met eyes with Selwyn and he raised his wand at me. Thankfully, Hermione twisted in midair, pulling the three of us with her, and with air squeezing through my lungs, we disappeared into nothingness.

⬅️➡️

3 notes · View notes