A New Place to Stay Chapter 57 - Harry Potter

Harry finally remembers Luna’s strange tale about the Deathly Hallows and heads down to the dungeons to tell Severus what he has pieced together. Together they examine Marvolo Gaunt’s ring, connect the Peverell crest to the Resurrection Stone, the Potter cloak, and the Hallows legend, and realize just how deep Harry’s family is tied into wizarding history. When Severus follows Harry’s hunch about Gregorovitch and the “Deathstick,” he finds only a tortured corpse and chilling proof that Voldemort is already hunting the Elder Wand. This episode dives into lore, wandlore, and rising stakes as father and son race to stay ahead of the Dark Lord.

Transcript

**Chapter 57: Christmas Coming Again**

Another month had passed, filled with more memories from Dumbledore about Tom Riddle, while Harry pretended to have no idea what they meant. Things had been so hectic that he had completely forgotten what Luna had told him.

When the memory finally surfaced, he made his way down to the dungeons, intending to inform Severus. He wasn't sure how important it was, but it felt worth sharing.

If it was a Deathly Hallow, it had to be the stone—the Resurrection Stone. His dad had kept all the destroyed Horcruxes, ensuring they could discover if the story was true.

Luna believed in many things that others dismissed, but Harry found himself tempted to believe her. After all, he was related to the Peverells; somewhere along the line, their name had changed to Potter.

He possessed a cloak of invisibility that had been in his family for generations, a precious heirloom. There were other invisibility cloaks, sure, but none like his.

The Gaunts were descended from another branch of the Peverell line, and they just happened to have a ring with that symbol. Too many coincidences, and Harry wasn’t a fan of those.

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight. Everything okay?” Severus asked, emerging from his book and looking at where Harry would be under his cloak.

“You did save the broken Horcruxes, didn’t you?” Harry replied, removing his cloak and hanging it on the hooks by the door. In his other hand, he clutched a book, but that was nothing unusual; Harry always had books with him.

“Yes,” Severus said cautiously, placing his book on the table and eyeing Harry curiously. “Why?”

“Can I see the ring?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Very well,” Severus replied, standing up to retrieve it, wondering what his son was up to this time. Harry slumped into a seat, kicking off his shoes and relaxing, still holding onto his own book.

He glanced over at the one his dad was currently reading. It was one he had taken from the chamber.

Harry didn’t get to read his books often; it wasn’t practical to carry them around Hogwarts. The only time he found to read was down in the dungeons, but lately, he and Severus had been focused on dueling—mostly non-verbal spells.

Despite that, he kept up with his book about Zar, and he had even drawn another picture of what he imagined he looked like now. He was brainstorming an interesting title for when he eventually published it, but he wouldn’t consider that until the war was over.

“What are you up to?” Severus asked as he returned with the item Harry had requested. He didn’t hand it over right away; he wanted to know what his son was planning.

“See the insignia?” Harry pointed toward the stone again. “Of course,” Severus replied dryly, wondering what Harry was getting at.

“I found out a month ago what it was, but everything that happened afterward slipped my mind. Luna picked up a necklace for her father that had the same design, and I asked her about it.

Neville was skeptical, but I actually believed her, especially when she shared more information about it.”

“Indeed?” Severus questioned, intrigued. It must have some merit if Harry was bringing it up.

“Have you read ‘The Tales of Beedle the Bard’?” Harry asked. “Of course.

I had memorized my mother’s copy before I was nine,” Severus said with a hint of wryness. “More specifically, the tale of the Three Brothers,” Harry stated.

“Yes,” Severus replied, raising an eyebrow, curious about how an old wizarding storybook related to the insignia. “I just finished reading it; it’s a fantastic book,” Harry said, grinning with amusement.

“It is,” Severus agreed, perhaps he should have given Harry a copy to read, but since he had grown up with it, it hadn’t occurred to him. He had already given Harry his Christmas presents this year—a complete art set so he could paint and color to his heart's content.

And there was the permanent Portkey he’d created, knowing that the war was going to get worse. Severus wanted Harry to have a safe place.

The moment it was touched, it would activate, transporting him to Prince Manor without the need for magic, thus avoiding detection. Severus would always know when it was activated, allowing him to keep an eye on Harry.

Last year, he had given Harry a new wand and a holster—practical items that offered no chance for recreation. This year, he aimed to provide both a practical and a fun gift.

He hoped Harry would like them; he wasn't accustomed to giving gifts, but he sensed that, given Harry's home life, he would appreciate whatever he received. “What do you think of the tale?” Harry asked, curious if Severus believed even a fraction of it.

“I did not dwell on it,” Severus replied honestly, feeling a twinge of irritation as he realized Harry was intentionally prolonging the conversation for suspense. Harry nodded thoughtfully.

“Do you believe it could be true?” 

“Perhaps. With magic, all things are possible,” Severus said, avoiding a direct answer.

“Not just possible; it’s true,” Harry insisted. “The three brothers were the Peverells.

That’s the name at the top of my family tree.”

“No names are mentioned in the tale,” Severus pointed out wryly. “No, but history makes it true.

The heirlooms make it true,” Harry shot back, a smug grin spreading across his face. “How do you figure that?” Severus asked, now merely indulging Harry.

“Accio cloak,” Harry said, and the cloak floated toward him. He handed it over.

“The cloak of invisibility,” Severus noted. “There are other cloaks, Harry.

This means nothing,” he added, amusement creeping into his tone. “Touch the stone,” Harry challenged confidently.

Severus let out a resigned sigh before extending his long, dexterous finger to touch the stone. If he had been pale before, he now turned nearly ghostly as he dropped the stone, shuddering.

Either his mind was playing tricks on him, or Lily had stood before him. Swallowing thickly, he realized he had no choice but to believe Harry now.

“Anyone who holds all three objects would become the…”

“Master of Death,” Harry said, his voice grave. He had no doubt about who his dad had seen, and he was tempted to pick up the stone and see them himself.

But he knew the danger of that temptation all too well. He had suffered through enough encounters with the Mirror of Erised to understand that nothing—not even the stone—could bring them back.

The second brother had learned that lesson the hard way; it had driven him mad, leading him to take his own life. Dumbledore had warned that many who gazed into the Mirror wasted away, uttering, “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

Severus shivered.

He had never heard Harry sound like this before. “Believe me now?” Harry grinned.

“The truth is irrefutable,” Severus replied sarcastically, picking up the broken ring while avoiding direct contact with the stone itself. This was a very dangerous object, just as Harry had said.

It truly didn’t do to dwell on dreams and forget to live. By Merlin, this was a piece of magical history—it should be on display in a museum for everyone to see, if only it weren't so perilous.

“I wonder if I could trace the wand,” Harry mused. “There was a rumor back in the day that Gregorovitch had a wand of unlimited power and was trying to duplicate its abilities,” Severus said thoughtfully.

“This was well before the Dark Lord’s time. If I remember correctly, Malfoy's father used to regale his son with tales of the Deathstick, or as he sometimes called it, the Bodie of Ellhorn—a reference from a book called *Magick Moste Evile*.

It’s said he used it as a guide to write that very text.”

“I’m surprised he doesn’t want it,” Harry remarked. “I doubt he would care for rumors,” Severus dismissed the notion.

But in an instant, Severus gasped in shock. Bloody hell, why hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

It could explain why he wanted Ollivander—he was a wand maker. No, surely not.

He couldn’t really be after a fabled wand, even if it was the most powerful. "Is he really after the twin wands?

If he realized he couldn't use his normal one to kill me, that might have driven him to seek the most powerful wand in existence. At least if he's focused on that, he won't be worrying about me."

“What is it?” Harry asked, frowning at the sudden shift in Severus’s demeanor.

What had he said? “I’ll be right back,” Severus replied, leaping for the Floo powder.

He threw it in and shouted the destination, disappearing in a swirl of green flames. Moments later, he found himself at Gregorovitch's residence.

The place was shrouded in darkness. Shivering, he lit his wand and began to move cautiously, careful not to make a sound.

The stench hit him first, and then he saw the body of the tortured wizard. The man's eyes were open, glazed over, frozen in a permanent expression of terror.

Swallowing thickly, Severus bent down and gently closed the man's eyes, offering a silent prayer. Nobody deserved to die like this.

Knowing he wouldn’t be able to find any answers here, he quickly returned through the Floo, reluctant to use any magic that might lead to accusations of this... atrocity.

Once back in his quarters, he fell to his knees, fighting the urge to be sick. “Sev!” cried Harry, standing up and staring wildly.

“What happened?”

“I do not know how you do it, Harry,” Severus said, chuckling in disbelief. “Somehow, you manage to pick up on things that shouldn’t be possible.

You’ve hit the nail on the head. The reason Ollivander was taken—no doubt he was well aware of the legend.

Through torture, he likely revealed information about the Elder Wand.”

Harry shivered, a wave of goosebumps washing over him. He had never seen his father like this before.

“You mean he knows about it?” he asked, his heart sinking. “Yes,” Severus replied grimly.

“Gregorovitch is dead. Whatever he knew...

the Dark Lord will know. He is searching for the Death Stick, thanks in no small part to the twin wands debacle during the graveyard incident.”

Harry swallowed thickly.

“We need to—”

“Get to it first,” Harry urged. “An impossibility.

We do not know who could have gotten it after Gregorovitch,” Severus replied, standing back up and feeling dizzy. He was accustomed to the sight of death; he had witnessed Nagini feasting on wizards and witches, and his stomach had hardened against the horror of it all.

But this was different. The knowledge that Voldemort was searching for a wand—the most powerful wand in existence—sent a chill through him.

It could be used to kill Harry. What if he had been training Harry against an unbeatable foe?

If they had only figured it out sooner... Gregorovitch could have told them.

They might have found it before the Dark Lord and thwarted his plans once again. “Is there a chance he didn’t do it?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with desperation.

“He did it,” Severus said quietly. He had seen enough of his victims over the years.

Sitting down, he resisted the urge to get up and pace. Running his hand through his hair, he struggled to contain his agitation.

What was he supposed to do now? Harry sat back down too, the weight of the situation settling in.

Things had just gotten a lot more complicated. Instead of merely searching for the remaining Horcruxes, they now had an insane madman after the most powerful wand in existence.

Great. Just great.

It was the last thing he needed. How could they gather information when the man was dead?

He didn’t live in the UK, so sifting through Daily Prophet records in hopes of finding something was futile. They were truly at a dead end.

There was nothing left to do but find and destroy the Horcruxes and hope he could face Voldemort when the time came.