Three Amigos - Part 1

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As Daphne and Harry made their way through the quiet halls of Hogwarts she felt an odd sort of imbalance. In her previous discussions with the headmaster she had always had the upper hand. This time she and Harry were going in blind. Technically she wasn't even invited...it was just meant to be Harry.

"You ready for this?" she asked as they approached the gargoyle, wanting to release some of the silent tension that had been building since that morning.

"Yeah," he commented nervously. "It's just...he kept so many things from me...now suddenly I'm the only one he trusts with his big remaining secret. And I can't even be properly pissed at him because he is dying. It's a bit of a ripoff."

When Harry had asked her to come despite not being on the invitation list she accepted without hesitation. But now...as she stood on the precipice of such an intimate moment between the two...she started to doubt her place.

"Harry, if you want to speak with him alone-"

"No," he interrupted determinedly. "I want you here and if he isn't okay with you knowing than he can find someone else to unload his problems on. You and I will just get to have lunch a little earlier. If I'm being honest I want to get this over and done with as quickly as possible so we can finally have our lunch in Hogsmeade."

At Harry's words she felt a surge of emotion. The six days until Harry's birthday seemed like an eternity.

To her surprise Dumbledore did not look at all upset when he saw her entering. If anything he looked pleased.

"Ahh, Miss Greengrass, I had a feeling you might be joining us today." As he motioned for them to take the offered seats she noticed that two teacups had been set up in front of the offered chairs.

He looked much older...much more tired than she remembered. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Like a man who is going to die very soon," he replied serenely. "Thanks to you two it will be a much more peaceful end than I had anticipated."

As he dutifully poured them tea he spoke. "I will need to speak to Harry on another matter for a few moments privately once we are finished. I'm sorry but I must insist that conversation be between just the two of us."

Dumbledore quickly raised his hands to head off Harry's protest. "There is another party involved who insisted I make the request of you and you alone Harry. You, however, will be under no such restriction. I fully expect and would encourage you to share it with Daphne later if you so desire. I am simply looking to establish plausible deniability for myself," he said with a smile, clearly pleased with his cleverness. He was a chess player to the very end.

Harry looked to Daphne and waited for her affirming nod before he spoke. "Okay...that's fair."

The Headmaster became much more serious. "What I need to share now will be a secret...a burden you will need to bear for the rest of your life. I would not ask this of you if I did not believe you were more than up to the task."

It was all Daphne could do to not start hurling curses then and there. She clamped down the emotion fighting to break through and reached for Harry's hand.

"Harry is done risking his life...he's been through too much, we've worked too hard and I won't let him risk his life again," Daphne stated matter of factly. "He's done more than enough and deserves to be done with this nonsense."

"You are, of course, correct Daphne," Dumbledore replied reassuringly. "What I am asking of you only involves your wisdom...your keen judgement...your humanity. Nothing more."

"'Nothing more', he says" Harry muttered bemusedly.

Dumbledore remained silent, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Once again Harry waited for Daphne's affirming nod before speaking. "Let's do it."

"So...down to business," Dumbledore intoned as he placed an ornate wand and a small stone on the desk in front of them. While the stone was unremarkable the wand seemed to be vibrating with power...the magic seemed to be coming off of it in waves.

"So that's the wand...the wand that goes with my cloak?" Harry asked. Daphne wondered if she had been imagining the wand's power as Harry seemed unimpressed. His eyes were fixed on the stone.

"Indeed it is, Harry. Indeed it is," Dumbledore replied. "Are either of you familiar with Beedle the Bard?"

Daphne answered 'yes' while Harry answered 'no' at the same moment. At Harry's questioning look she spoke.

"It's a collection of wizarding fairy tales," she supplied. "All children in the wizarding world grow up knowing them."

"It is believed by some that all of the stories were inspired by actual events," Dumbledore continued as he picked up the wand. "Can you hazard a guess which story is based on these objects and Harry's cloak, Daphne?"

A wand.

A stone.

A cloak.

A set.

"Merlin," Daphne muttered as Harry looked on in confusion.

"Peverell, actually," the headmaster replied amusedly.

An hour later the headmaster had explained the history and meaning behind each of the objects as well as the horcrux that had inadvertently led him to discovering the stone. The information overload reminded Daphne of her first meetings with Harry in the Chamber and she struggled to get her bearings. She thought she was done hearing Harry Potter revelations only to learn he was a direct descendant of the Peverells and the presumptive caretaker of the Deathly Hallows. She should have known. When it came to Harry there always seemed to be more. And the 'more' was always much, much more.

Harry, however, appeared unfazed. "So that's what happened to your hand. Who were you trying to bring back?" he asked bluntly, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"My sister Ariana," he said weakly. "She died at a very young age. I was the oldest and due to a family tragedy I became her guardian when she was fourteen. I loved her very much...but I loved myself and my own ambitions more. She died in part due to my arrogance and selfishness."

As she listened to the headmaster speaking about Ariana she thought of her own sister and the curse that seemed to loom over her family. It was the wand that had caught her initial attention but now her eyes were fixed on the stone. She had no need of it now but in thirty years? She was positive the magic contained within the stone rivaled that of the wand and was infinitely more insidious.

She watched as the Headmaster picked up the stone and placed it into a small bag before handing it to Harry.

"There will most likely come a time when the desire to use the stone will become overwhelming. Please, I beg you, remember the Tale of the Three Brothers, remember the Mirror of Erised, and remember my story. Nothing you see using the stone will heal the pain driving you toward it."

He picked up the wand once again and regarded it as he twirled it in his remaining healthy hand. "I spent a large part of my youth researching the history of the elder wand...it was an obsession. From what I could determine the wand's ownership was always transferred through conquest...through bloodshed. Always, without fail."

His eyes then fell on Harry as he handed him the wand, the relief on his face now palpable. "I consider it the greatest accomplishment of my life that I am the first to pass its ownership willingly...to a good friend."

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