Through Her Eyes

Chapter 32: Old Friends & Sweet Nothings

"You never told me you were an Anamagi,"

Hermione leaned in the office doorway of the Burrow, freshly washed hair knotted on top of her head as the young witch relished in her soft flannels. Before her, Aberforth was sitting before the fireplace, downing a bottle of Firewhisky,

"I ain't legal, ya' know. I don' want everyone knowin', now do I?"

The old man chuckled slightly as Hermione entered the office and fell down into a chair next to him, "what'er ya' still doin' up, 'ermione?"

"Can't sleep. Not with that Horcrux around, anyway," Hermione admitted, holding her bad arm, where her blood still flowed like tar under her skin, "now I understand why Harry never slept much,"

"Aye', I see."

Aberforth said nothing else as he poured Hermione a shot of whisky, before taking another swig directly from the bottle himself. Sighing deeply, Hermione twisted a dark auburn curl around one finger, stretching out her legs which had been healed a few hours before,

"Where did you go?" She finally croaked, head cocked slightly to one side as the fire crackled between her words, "I thought you were dead,"

'It must have been pretty important for him just to ditch out like that,' Hermione thought to herself, watching as Aberforth shifted awkwardly in his chair,

"Aye, I'm sorry. I didn' mean to leave, but I couldn't let ole Snake Face get ta my brothers tomb,"

"What?"

Hermione sat forward slightly and knitted her brows slightly, "why did you need to go there?"

"To fulfill ma brothers last wishes o' course. I got called in for his will readin' a few nights before I left, see? And old Albus," Aberforth chuckled deeply as he waved his hand, a long, dark box appearing in his lap, "he still has a few tricks up his sleeve. Left this wit' his body, he did,"

"What's that?"

"This, 'ermione, is a very powerful artifact. The old fool left it for ye in his will. Thought you may need it when facin' ole Snake Nose,"

Aberforth held out the box as Hermione reached out confusedly. It was longer then the average wand box, and was well engraved with runes even the 'smartest witch of her age' couldn't read. Lifting the lid, Hermione's face paled. The wand nestled in velvet was very familiar to her, and oozed magical power that was practically touchable,

"This is the elder wand," she breathed, picking up the instrument like it would burn at her touch, "I-I don't understand-"

"Ole Albus was quite the troublemaker as a boy. Dueled this wand off his ex-companion, Grindlewald. Has had it since then,"

"But what's the use? I can't use this. I would have to disarm Dumbledore for it..."

"Naw. How much do you know about magical law, 'ermione?"

"Not much I'm afraid," Hermione admitted, holding the Elder Wand and observing it carefully,

"Well, when a wizard dies, he can leave jus' bout anything in his las' will an' testament. Albus left ye' the Elder Wand in his will, signed it, an' that made his ownership void,"

"You mean...this wand is mine?"

"Aye'. Spectacular ain't it? He also left the sword for ye. It's sittin' over there,"

Glancing in the direction where Aberforth motioned, Hermione saw the glint of a silver blade tucked in one corner,

"Tom no doubt knows what we're up too," Hermione mumbled slightly, "have you heard anything from the Death Eaters about their attack on the Ministry?"