Bear's Beauties: Existential Crisis 12 (Patreon)

[center]<<Nikhol Diomedes>>[/center]

The stone that was taken from the Fool’s soul anchor was intriguing. I’d only seen something remotely similar, besides Vitiate devouring my birth world, in the Force Walk ritual, but that was very, very different. I’d lived through the havoc binding multiple ghosts to be intimately familiar with the intricacies of that particular technique.

‘Quite the relic you have there,’ a familiar voice spoke up, as the translucent form of a stately sith pureblood walked into my vision.

It had been a while since Horak-mul had bothered to do more than sit in the back of my soul, tormenting the only other ghost I currently had bound to me. The thought of that particular pain I’d had to deal with brought a smirk to my face.

“What can you tell me about this?” I asked Dumbledore, making the old man start as my voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Ah, I can safely say that is the Resurrection Stone. One of the three Deathly Hallows, it is an old story, a fairy tale really. The story tells of three brothers who used their wits and magic to cross an extremely dangerous bridge, only to have Death appear before them. Death praised them for surviving what should have killed them, and offered each of them a boon.

“The oldest wanted a wand that would make him unbeatable in battle. So Death gave him such a wand, and later that night, after having bragged about how he was unbeatable, he was killed in his sleep and the wand taken. Thus, Death claimed the first brother.

“The middle brother asked for a way to speak with his deceased wife. So Death picked up a stone that could call the souls of the dead. Eventually, unable to move on, the middle brother took his life. Thus, Death had the second brother.

“The youngest, he knew what Death was doing. He requested a cloak that could hide him even from Death. So Death gave him part of his own cloak. For years, the youngest brother evaded Death, until, as an old man, he passed the cloak on to his son and greeted Death as an old friend.

“The story is meant to be a fable about the folly of pride, being obsessed with the past, and accepting death, but at some point, there was an addition to the story. Supposedly, any who can become the master, or mistress,” Dumbledore nodded in my direction, “of all three Deathly Hallows will become the Master of Death. What that means is up to interpretation.”

I chuckled, while an entertaining story, I couldn’t help but be amused by the title, so similar to one of my own.

“I’ve read about a lot of Death Entities,” Bear said. “Even the friendliest is unlikely to call anyone ‘Master’ no matter what magical artifacts they have.”

“There are friendly death entities?” Kara asked incredulously. “In my experience they’re all after more and more death.”

“Well, there’s Hades. While I wouldn’t call him friendly per say, he’s portrayed in most media I’m familiar with as both professional and something of a workaholic. But the one I was thinking about specifically is Death of the Endless.”

“Who?”

“The Endless are the personifications of seven key forces, one of which is Death. She typically appears as a pale skinned woman dressed in black pants and tank top with an ankh necklace. She primarily acts as a psychopomp, guiding people to the beyond when it is their time. The way she describes her job, ‘when the last thing dies, I’ll put up the chairs, turn off the lights, and lock the door behind me.’”

“This Death of the Endless sounds a little like the way the Mandalorians viewed the concept of Death,” I mused aloud, recalling a partially translated ancient text. “‘And Death appeared before him in armor of blackest night and said, It is time. And the warrior smiled and said, What took you so long, brother?’”

“An interesting perspective,” Dumbledore noted, clearly intrigued by what little he’d heard of the Mandalorians.

Any further conversation was put off as we reached the doors to a large stone castle. When one considered the available industrial capacity, it was quite an impressive structure, even if it paled in comparison to Kaas City or the Dark Temple.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Dumbledore intoned, pride evident in his voice.

I gently reached out with the Force to get a feel for the aura of the structure, and my eyebrows rose as something pressed back. It wasn’t sentient, but like certain structures or locations strong in the Force, it had an awareness of its own. A sense of purpose, to care and protect, as well as being filled with joy and a child-like innocence. It reminded me a little bit of Vette, though the twi’lek had more than her share of scars in her past that I wasn’t sensing here.

“The diadem should be in the Room of Requirements, what the elves call the Come and Go Room,” Bear said, pulling me from my thoughts.

“Elves?” Kara asked, surprised.

“Not Lord of the Rings elves, more like Santa’s elves.”

“Oh, phooey.”

Dumbledore led us up several flights of stairs, before stopping outside a rather hideous tapestry of while looked like the spawn of a hutt and a wookie trying to perform a mon calamari dance. While Bear paced, I couldn’t help but look at the tapestry. It was like a pair of ugnaughts fucking, it was disgusting but you couldn’t look away.

“Bingo,” Bear said as he looked through a door that wasn’t there a minute ago. Tearing my gaze from the torture tool on proud display, I followed him into the room with… mounds and mounds of junk.

“Great, how are we supposed to find it in…” Kara began, only for Dumbledore to interrupt, holding up a…

‘Interesting, that focus in his hand feels like the stone,’ Horak-mul noted as a glittering headpiece flew through the air to come to a stop in front of us.

“… I take back what I said earlier,” Kara said as I stepped up to the diadem and felt out the soul fragment within it.

It was there, smaller than the earlier ones, except for the one in Hyacinth's head. There were also nearly a dozen different traps and curses bound into the metal and gemstones on it. Three were redundancies, not full duplications, but there were only so many ways to make flesh necrotize at a swift pace. Plus the blood boiling one, much as I hate to give the Fool any credit, I might have to experiment to see if I could duplicate the effects, it would be devastating to the morale of enemy combatants.

Ah, that’s why there were so many flesh rotting curses, clever. Tying them to the presence of the other curses so that removing them in the wrong order would trigger them. Finally, a challenge.

“Miss Diomedes, I would ask that you try to spare the diadem,” Dumbledore said as I started focusing my power. “It is a personal relic of one of the founders of this school.”

“That’ll make this much harder,” I stated, before grinning, “and like I said while training on Korriban: the more challenging, the better.”

[center]<<Hermione Granger>>[/center]

Without Taylor, cleaning went slower, but the various pests had been taken care of so it wasn’t as dangerous as it was those first few days before Harry had shown up. I could hold back a shudder at some of the pests that had settled in the house, and was thankful that Mrs. Weasley provided potions that kept the domovoi from wanting to… well, Harry’d already avoided what they would have done to Rhonda and I.

Before I could let my thoughts head down that rabbit hole, there was the distinct sound of the fireplace letting people floo in. Glancing over at Harry and Rhonda, we set down the brushes and made our way to the stairs. It had been hours since Bear, Nikhol, and Kara left with Professor Dumbledore, and from what Taylor had told us there should only be a few more of Voldemort’s soul fragments.

“Ah, Harry,” Bear said with a small smile, “We were hoping to run into you.”

Nikhol and Kara both stepped through the fireplace as Harry, Rhonda and I stepped into the main room, confusion on our faces. Bear held out a hand towards Nikhol, who dropped a pebble into it before walking off. Kara gave Harry a bittersweet smile, her eyes red from crying, before leaving as well.

“Is everything okay?” Harry asked as Bear walked over to us.

“We managed to eliminate two horcruxes, so there’s just two left and Riddle will be mortal again. But the first one we eliminated on our trip… well, I know Rhonda’s heard the story, but have you or Hermione ever heard of the Deathly Hallows?”

“Oh bloody hell, which one was it?” Rhonda asked, her face pale.

Gently, Bear took Harry’s hand and placed the pebble in it, “This is the Resurrection Stone, I’d recommend using it only as a chance to say goodbye, and I believe that Sirius and Remus would like to be there to say their own goodbyes. Everyone dies, but we can’t dwell in the past to the point that we forget about the future.”

As Bear left, Harry and I turned to Rhonda, who started to explain to us what the pebble in Harry’s hand was. As she did, I had a realization. Something about Harry’s invisibility cloak had always bothered me, they were only supposed to last for a few decades, and after the first they started to lose their effectiveness. But Sirius had mentioned Harry’s father having it in his early years at Hogwarts. A stone that could call the dead, an invisibility cloak that lasted for far longer than it should… was Harry’s cloak a Deathly Hallow?

If it was, who had the wand?

[center]<<Remus “Moony” Lupin>>[/center]

“What’s up, Pup?” Padfoot asked as Hyacinth sat in front of us, fiddling with a small onyx stone.

She opened her mouth to answer, only to hesitate. I admit I was curious why she asked to meet us in private, but I was willing to wait for her to gather herself. Finally, she seemed to give up and said, “James and Lily Potter.”

Before Sirius or I could say anything, two white, ephemeral forms floated out of the stone in her hand. The forms became clearer, revealing…

“Prongs? Lily?” I breathed, eyes wide.

The two spectres of our friends looked around for a moment, before James smiled and said, “Moony, you got old.”

I snorted, tears coming to my eyes. That was exactly the kind of thing James would say. Hyacinth spoke up next, “Mum, Dad, there’s so much I want to say… but now I don’t know where to start.”

“That makes two of us,” Sirius said as he stared at James and Lily.

“Well for starters Padfoot,” Lily said with a familiar glint in her eye as she walked up to him. Before slapping the back of his head, “You should have talked to quite literally anyone before going on your rat hunt! You were supposed to have gotten over your bullheaded impulsiveness!”

“Lily,” James began.

“I want to be furious with you!” she shouted, before she sighed. “But after twelve years in Azkaban, I’d say you more than paid for your mistake.”

That was indeed Lily. I blinked away the tears that were starting to form, and took a deep breath. “Lily, Prongs. I’m sorry I ever gave you reason to doubt me. I wish things were different, but I’m glad I get to say these things now.”

“Remus, we’re sorry for ever doubting you,” James said, barely able to meet my gaze.

“I figured it out years ago, and forgave you at the same time.”

“Mum, Dad…” Hyacinth began, swallowing a lump in her throat as she struggled to ask the question on her mind.

“Harry,” James said, making Harry look at him, a soft, proud smile on his face. “Yes. Every minute of every day. We’re just sorry we couldn’t be there with you. We’re sorry you ended up at Petunia’s, that you had to deal with everything there.”

“You have a good coven, sweetie,” Lily said as she hugged her daughter, “trust in them, take care of them as they take care of you. Don’t be afraid to take things with them a step farther.”

Sirius and I chuckled at the furious blush that lit up Hyacinth’s face at Lily’s suggestion, even as she continued, “You know, muggles were starting this thing with test tubes and kids when we died, so you don’t ever have to touch anyone you don’t want to when you decide you want kids. That’s without anything your new friends might have.”

“Which reminds me, from everything we’ve seen on the other side, they’re all on the up and up,” James said, turning serious. “Even the women with the red spell-swords; the black haired one especially, has done more to stop that bastard that killed us than damn near anyone else.”

“Speaking of her,” Lily got a mischievous grin that had Sirius and I start looking for cover, nothing good ever happened when she had that grin. “If you want to do more than simply admire her, you should talk to her.”

Hyacinth blushed and glanced aside, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh? So you haven’t been talking with your coven mates about certain dreams featuring her? I believe some of the dreams featured you burying your face into her butt as you ate her out, was I mistaken?”

“Please stop,” Hyacinth asked as her blush reached past the collar of her shirt.

“Only if you promise to learn to brew the Wet Nurse potion to give to her friends as a Christmas gift.” Wait, what? Oh. “Your father loved drinking from me after you were born.”

“Does she really need to know that dear?” James asked in an exasperated voice.

“You were the deer, ‘Prongs.’” Lily shot back with a grin.

“That was one time! I was drunk!”

“I promise! Please stop sharing embarrassing stories or dreams!”

Chuckling in amusement, James turned to face Sirius and I, “Moony, Padfoot. Do us a favor and get on Dumbledore’s case about the quality of his Defense professors. He’s got access to a bunch of Aurors, see if any of them will take the position.”

“Agreed, let’s move on and avoid talking about anyone’s sex lives,” Sirius easily agreed.

“You’d have to have one for us to talk about it anyway, Paddy,” James quipped, before his and Lily’s forms started to fade.

“Looks like we’re out of time,” Lily said sadly, before leaning in and giving Hyacinth a gentle kiss on her forehead. Smiling down at her, Lily managed a few final words before they faded completely, “We love you sweetie, remember us, but don’t cling to us.”