Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Returning to Sanity	By : AchillesTheGeek Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 31212 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter books or films, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 33
- 34
- 35
34 The Elder Wand Makes a Return Appearance
Twenty-four hours after being caught, Marcus Flint was still livid with rage. Not that it had done him the slightest bit of good. To begin with, he had been taken to an initial holding cell that was even smaller than the pigsty they had had the gall to incarcerate him in for the previous week; he had yelled and whined and raged and demanded "acceptable accommodation", and once he had yelled himself hoarse, the Auror in charge had looked in on him, said, "tough", and left him alone again.
After that he had appeared before a summary hearing to decide his immediate fate. He had expected to be asked to plead his case, or given a chance to explain, or something.
But the senior Auror charge had simply looked him up and down, and asked, "Marcus Flint?"
Shocked at the complete lack of interest in the man's voice, Marcus had snarled "yes". Before Flint could say anything else, the Auror, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork, had lazily said just two more things.
"Silencio. 14B."
They were the last words he had heard. The two Aurors at his sides had simply picked him up and carried him bodily to his new cell, not saying a word. The Silencio had, quite literally, shut him up; he had not been able to make a sound since. Even his fists beating on the door seemed to have no effect. Certainly, no-one seemed to pay him any notice. And as for the cell …
When he had first been imprisoned, the cell he was in contained a three-foot wide cot, with a hard, lumpy mattress on it; a toilet; and a washbasin, in a space perhaps three metres square. He had regarded it with total contempt at the time. The other inmates, for there was mesh they could talk through, and exercise yards, had told him to be glad he wasn't on level 14, and he had sneered, "how could it be worse than this?"
Now he knew. The cot in his new room was two feet wide, six feet long and took up at least a third of the floor space. He couldn't complain about the mattress; there wasn't one. The walls were oppressive, solid, and painted a soul-sapping grey. The room was damp, and cold, and poorly lit. There was, quite simply, nothing to do, and no hope of change. His prison record would read that he had made no complaint; how could he, as he had no voice?
He sat, and thought over the events of the previous day, which proved rather difficult for him; thinking was not really his strong suit, as the fact that he had failed his exams the first time gave testimony to. Over and over again, he returned to the same questions.
What had gone wrong? Yaxley was so clever. He had it all planned out. Blaise had assured them that the traitor would be alone. How had the Aurors known what they were up to? They hadn't seemed to have a clue when he was there before. Blaise had told them that Potter's spell wasn't strong enough to unmask the dark Aurors. How had Malfoy survived? He should have been destroyed. How had Potter got to him so quickly? He had been on the step.
It took a while, but eventually it dawned on him that he shouldn't trust what Blaise said. But the man had taken veritaserum? He couldn't lie, surely? Unless he was dark enough to have taken … No, surely not, only a few people knew about that. He must have told the truth. And anyway, what he said about the wards was true, they had let them in.
It was only after he had sat on the cot for the whole day that he realised the truth: Blaise had indeed told them the truth. A carefully constructed truth. A truth designed to lead them astray. The traitor had been alone. As far as Blaise knew. They must have had a plan he deliberately wasn't told about. The spell wasn't strong enough to unmask their confederates. But it gave them enough clues to work it out. The wards did let them in. Because it was a trap …
All in a rush, Flint realised that he had been duped. Outplayed. He felt shame; and the shame fuelled his anger, and a cold hatred grew in his heart: a hatred for Potter, the goody-two-shoes; and the Malfoys, the treacherous family; and most of all for Blaise Zabini, the man who had betrayed them in the end.
He sat there and his rage boiled around him. Of course, it did him no good; he had no magic, no voice, no hope. But he held onto the anger fiercely. He had to; the only alternative was to despair.
Monday 8 June 1998
The letter from the Wizengamot arrived while Harry and Draco were sitting at breakfast. It began directly enough but then tailed off into impenetrability, as formal missives will: 'Mr Harry James Potter and Mr Draco Lucius Malfoy are requested to attend a meeting of the Wizengamot at ten o'clock this very morning in Courtroom Ten for the purpose of assisting the Court in discovering the facts of incidents relating to the behaviour of one Marcus Flint, with particular reference to …" and the letter had continued for an entire page with mind-numbing jargon, becoming more and more convoluted. But the intent was clear: the Wizengamot wanted to interview them about the two attacks on Draco that Flint had been part of. And it was equally clear that, while the letter might be phrased as a polite request, it was in fact nothing of the kind: their presence was obligatory.
Arthur Weasley had Floo-called them a little before nine, rather apologetic that they had only been given two hours' notice of the meeting. He invited them to come through so that they could discuss how things lay beforehand; which they were both pleased to do. It was all a bit sudden, and they were eager to find out why things were moving so quickly, given that nothing had happened to Marcus during the previous week.
Accordingly, they Flooed into Arthur's office at ten past nine, and were offered tea and biscuits, which they accepted. Draco looked a little put out, and Harry guessed it was a the lack of cream cakes, but decided to say nothing. His lover was tense enough already. And they didn't really need cream cakes at nine o'clock in the morning, especially after the bacon and eggs they had had for breakfast.
"Now," Arthur said, once they were seated, "I suppose you're wondering why this is happening so suddenly."
They were, so they simply nodded and let him get on with it.
"The Wizengamot has been preparing the case against Flint rather aggressively, and were ready to bring him to trial on Wednesday of last week. Given your suspicions that Yaxley would attack at Draco's party, and that Flint might be part of the attack, we specifically asked for a delay; now that the weekend is over, the Wizengamot has decided it needs to expedite the trial, especially as we also arrested two Aurors on Saturday night."
"What?" Draco asked.
"There were two Aurors who helped Flint escape. They thought that we hadn't discovered them, as the Signum Revelare didn't make their hidden Dark marks burn. But we did detect them, so they were under observation, and their actions had not gone unnoticed, as they thought; on the contrary, we took them into custody only minutes after the party started, and they have been held incommunicado ever since. The Wizengamot, understandably, is not happy about imprisoning them like this without trial; so the whole thing will be examined today."
Draco still looked confused. Harry spoke up, remembering that the details of the party had been kept a secret.
"Sorry, Arthur, you'd better explain fully. You must remember that we didn't tell Draco about the party, as it was a surprise." This wasn't entirely true, but the Deputy Minister didn't need to know that. "So all he knows about what Blaise did is the little bit that I was able to tell him while the shield was protecting us; which was really to reassure him that Blaise was never a traitor."
"Fair enough," Arthur replied. "Well, as Harry says, Blaise was always on our side, and we used him to manipulate Yaxley. I must say, he did an amazing job. We knew that Yaxley couldn't get Blaise to attack you, because Blaise had told him that. We knew he would want to use someone else he could trust, and suspected, rightly, that he'd want to use Flint if he could get him, since Flint had already attacked you and probably had nothing to lose by doing so again. That's why we decided to keep him in the Ministry cells, so it would be relatively easy for Yaxley to get to him, given that we knew he controlled two Aurors. And that's exactly how it turned out; which made things much simpler for our teams. After all, it's much easier to keep tabs on what the enemy is up to if you've pushed him into doing what you want."
Draco thought about this, and nodded as he understood, and admired, the subtlety of the Ministry strategy.
"Yaxley and MacNair, of course, were taken straight to Azkaban; their guilt had already been conclusively established, and they had been tried and found guilty in absentia, so there was no need for any further process."
"I would be interested to know," Harry chipped in, "why they used those three spells. They used the same three at the Memorial service, so it must be deliberate."
"Interesting," Arthur said, "I don't know if anyone had made the connection, But now, it's half past nine, we should go."When they reached Courtroom Ten, Arthur bade them farewell.

"I'm afraid I can't stay today," he said, apologetically. "Apart from having a job of my own, the Ministry doesn't want the impartiality of the Wizengamot to be questioned, and the Prophet has been giving dark hints about me always being present; so Kingsley and I agreed we'd both best sit this trial out."
There were two men waiting for them outside the courtroom. Arthur waved to them, inviting them to come over by gesture, as he continued, "so I shall leave you in the capable hands of two men you know well: Auror Tom Godwin, and Dempster Wiggleswade from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Dempster will be covering the trial for the Prophet, I believe?" The question was aimed at Wiggleswade, who nodded in response. "But as ever we shall vet the copy. Moreover, the Ministry has asked him to take notes with a view to writing an official history of the wizarding war; so he may wish to interview you both in that capacity."
Harry groaned inwardly, but was careful not to let his displeasure show on his face. He knew something like this would have to be done; and if anyone had to do it, Wiggleswade was a good candidate. His prose was a little dry, but he stuck to the facts and reported them fairly.
To Harry's surprise, Dempster congratulated them both warmly on their engagement.
"Thank you, sir," he replied; but Dempster told him not to mention it.
"In fact, you might as well get used to it," he said, and as they walked in, Harry saw why: all of the members of the Wizengamot were wearing badges that said 'Congratulations!' It was an amazingly silly gesture which brought tears to both boys' eyes.
"Welcome, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy" the Chief Warlock began. "May we extend our warmest congratulations on the occasion of your engagement?"
"Thank you, sir," Harry and Draco replied in unison, but the Wizengamot drowned them out as everyone cried out "hear, hear!"
'Yes, well, you've had your fun, Elphias, can we get back to business now?" Borage asked, snarky as ever; but Harry could see the smile fighting to come out at the edges of his mouth and knew it was a front.
"Very well," Doge replied, and waved his wand. Each of the badges was transfigured back into the silver W that identified the wearer as a member of the Wizengamot; it was clear that that was what the badges had started as.
Doge turned to address Draco, "Mr Malfoy, I must extend our thanks to you, particularly, for coming today; I appreciate that your memories of this room will not be particularly pleasant, and I hope that our little prank may help you to see that, while the business of this chamber is indeed serious, we do have our lighter moments. Now, Clerk of Court, kindly open the proceedings."
With that, the Clerk stood up and gave his usual dry announcement of the day's proceedings. The Wizengamot settled down to the trial, which turned out to be a very short event indeed. It did not take long to establish Flint's guilt, given the number of eyewitnesses. And his testimony was very sparse: he had been told what to do, and he had done it. He hadn't been told why, nor had he asked. But that wasn't all that Harry and Draco wanted to know. Once more, Harry asked Flint the question from Saturday night:
"Why attack Draco?"
Flint stood, trying to maintain a dumb insolence. But the eyes of the Wizengamot members bored into him, and he found himself unable to refrain from speaking.
"It was never him I wanted," he replied. Then, through clenched teeth, he added, "I wanted power! I wanted magic! I wanted … the Elder wand."
"You mean this?" Harry asked, producing the wand from the sleeve of his robe.
"You carry it with you?" Wiggleswade asked, evidently amazed that Harry would cart such an important wand around so nonchalantly. "Surely you don't use it all the time!"
"Yes, I carry it with me," Harry answered. "Just so no-one else can get their hands on it. Not that it would do them any good. Permit me to demonstrate?"
The question was asked to Doge, who nodded his approval.
"Thank you," Harry said, returning the nod. "Marcus, let's see what you can do with this."
And, to a shocked audience, with a wave of his hand he cancelled the magic restraining Flint, and handed the stick of elder to him.
Flint was no less shocked than anyone else. He took the wand and swished it. Nothing happened. He cast Lumos. Still nothing.
Harry took it back off him, and swished it himself, and also spoke "Lumos". And still, nothing happened.
"You see?" he said, to the incredulous Flint. "After the events at Hogwarts, it seems that all of the power has gone from it."
Flint looked sick, and angry, and deflated, all at once. He practically fell back into his seat with surprise. And he wasn't the only one; the entire Wizengamot was silent as well.
"You mean … all the time I listened to Yaxley, all the work I did to get hold of that wand was useless?"
"I'm afraid so," Harry said, as two Aurors came to take him into custody. "I'm sorry, Marcus."
"Don't you call me that, Potter!" the prisoner snarled. "I still don't want your pity!" And with that, he was led away; and, as though this were a signal, every member of the Wizengamot seemed to start speaking at once, and the din rose high as people were yelling questions at Harry, musing out loud, or, most counterproductive at all, yelling to their neighbours to be quiet. Eventually, Doge, his patience clearly stretched to breaking point, called for quiet; but even his authority was seriously tested, and he had to cast a Sonorus charm to be heard above the hubbub.
"My dear witches and wizards, please, calm yourselves" he said, the mildness of the words belied by a tone of steel. "I'm sure we're all most eager to know exactly what is going on here. Mr Potter, are you telling us that that is the Elder wand, from the legend about Death and the Three Brothers?"
"Yes sir," Harry answered as he stood up before the court.
"And it is no longer effective?" Doge continued.
"Yes sir."
"And can you explain this?"
"No sir," Harry said, regretfully. "I didn't even notice myself exactly when it happened; but I tried to use it a week after the battle of Hogwarts, and it had no power then."
"Extraordinary," Doge said. "I think we would all be interested in discovering the answer to this mystery?"
"I believe we need an expert," an elderly wizard Harry didn't know piped up. "I wonder if Mr Ollivander is available?"
"Capital idea," Doge said. "Mr Potter, would you consent to the Wizengamot seeking the assistance of Garrick Ollivander in this matter? It is, after all, your wand now."
"I think that is a brilliant idea," Harry agreed. "I'd really like to know what happened. If the wand truly has no power then we can tell everyone and stop people like Flint from attacking."
"Still not your fault," a voice said behind him. Harry smiled and reached over to his lover, twining their fingers together.
"Thank you," he said quietly to Draco. Then he turned back to Doge. "Will Mr Malfoy be welcome to stay as well?"
"Yes, of course," the Chief Warlock said warmly. "So, members, do we all concur in inviting Mr Ollivander to this chamber?"
The buzz around the room was definitely one of agreement, and a recess was called, during which the elderly wand-maker would be called and invited to assist the Wizengamot. During the interval, Harry and Draco were invited to join the members for luncheon, which was served in the room they used for morning tea. At lunch, by common consent, conversation was kept entirely away from the subjects of the day.
Harry was concerned that Draco might be overlooked; he had specifically asked about him being present because he had rather got the impression that Draco's evidence had been nearly irrelevant, given the speed with which Flint had been found guilty; and that the Wizengamot was no longer interested in him, but only in Harry. His lover did not deserve to be treated merely as an hanger-on to him, and he looked around to see what could be done about it. But his fears proved groundless: as soon as they entered the room, Libatious Borage called Draco over to him, and the two sat and ate together, spending the entire hour's recess deep in conversation.
Eventually they were recalled to the chamber, where they found Ollivander waiting for them, his eyes sparkling with obvious interest to be consulted by the body. Harry wondered how much he had been told. He also wondered exactly what Draco and Borage had discussed, but there was no time for that; as soon as they were seated, Doge asked Harry to produce the Elder wand.
A table had been set in the middle of the chamber, and Harry approached it, drawing the wand. As the wand was revealed, the light in Ollivander's eyes glowed fiercely, and he almost pounced on it when it was offered to him.
"The Elder wand," he whispered, though his voice was clearly audible as everyone else was quite silent in the chamber, watching his every move. "So it really does exist."
Like Harry and Marcus Flint before him, he cast Lumos with the wand. Or tried to; as before, nothing happened when he did so. This did not seem to deter him in the least, however; he cast a few more charms, and, seeing that nothing worked, picked up a bag that he had placed inconspicuously next to the table and took out a set of scales and weighed the wand, making some careful notes on a piece of parchment that he took from an old pocketbook he evidently always carried with him. Seemingly satisfied, he took out some very strange pieces of equipment from the bag, and proceeded to carry out what were obviously highly specialised observations on the wand. A couple of them produced lights of various colours, which he noted down very carefully on his parchment. As he worked, his face was a picture of concentration; but from time to time he made strange little noises, which nearly always sounded either extremely pleased or very shocked indeed.
After perhaps half an hour of this procedure, he put the wand down on the table, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He then opened his eyes, which Harry could see were shining in excitement, and turned to the chamber.
"Well, Mr Ollivander," Doge intoned, "are you ready to give us your findings?"
"I am," the wandmaker replied, and adopted a didactic tone. "In examining a wand, it is essential to begin at the beginning, cataloging each fact about it, proceeding with caution and care. Here is a wand, made of Elder, fifteen inches in length, with a Thestral tail-hair core. The wand is perfectly weighted; a firm grip is easy to establish and maintain, the wood pliant enough to accept being held, but not so springy as to need an excessive grip. The manufacture is exquisite; the core has been bonded to the wand perfectly, and the wood and core tuned with sufficient skill to indicate that the wandmaker was truly first-class. There is no evidence of defect or decay whatever in the wood of the wand. Normally this would be evidence of recent manufacture, but it is clear that this is not the case here; the spells that I cast to discover its age were completely defeated, meaning that its maker managed to imbue it with a longevity charm to never show age in any way during its existence. There is therefore nothing whatever that would give a true indication of the wand's age."
"And is it the Elder wand?" Dalmatea Merrythought, sitting next to Doge as usual, and turning fascinated eyes on Ollivander, asked.
"Well that is the question!" was the testy reply. "All that we know of the Elder wand leads me to say yes," the wandmaker answered. "Which is to say, it is made of elder, and the right length, and the core matches the legend. Moreover, it once held more power than any wand, perhaps than any two wands together, that I have ever possessed or known of. So, if the elder wand is real, which, as Mr Potter knows, I believe it to be, then there is every chance that this is it. Of course, we should consider its provenance and history to be certain – that is, how did this wand come to be here? Who had it last? Can we find a chain going back to a known, or suspected, possessor of the elder wand?"
"Fascinating questions, no doubt, to one in your line of business," Borage remarked acidly. "But it is now useless?"
Ollivander glared at him, clearly not wishing to be rushed.
"There is no doubt in my mind, witches and wizards, that this was once a wand of truly exceptional power. I have certainly never made, or known, a wand with the power that this wand possessed. But yes, that power has been removed. And that makes this the most exciting day in my life for many a year. Wands normally only lose their power when they are used in a duel and their wizard is completely destroyed. But that cannot have happened here; it would require another wand with even greater power than this one had, and if any such wand existed, we would certainly know about it. No, there is a great mystery here."
He turned to Harry, his eyes still showing the excitement of before, together with a rapacious thirst for knowledge.
"So, Mr Potter," he said, "you have set us a very pretty puzzle indeed. When we met last, under rather more humble circumstances" - here Draco blushed at the memory of Ollivander's incarceration at the Manor – "you told me that Voldemort was after this wand, and would certainly take it from Dumbledore's grave. What can you tell us of its history since then? And do you know how Dumbledore came by it?"
Harry stood, and began to tell of the history of the wand, as he knew it. He went back to Albus Dumbledore's possession of it, recounting what the headmaster had told him of the duel he had had with Gellert Grindelwald in 1945 and how mastery of the Elder Wand had passed to him at that point. He explained how it was that Draco Malfoy came, briefly, to be its master (which made his lover gasp; Harry was secretly delighted to have been able to do so, the first time he had seen Draco really, completely, shocked into silence); and then the day at the Manor when, without anyone knowing it, not even him, Harry Potter himself became master of the wand.
He told how Voldemort had mistakenly assumed that the wand passed by killing, while in fact it only cared about strength; and that because of this error, Voldemort believed that Snape was the master of the wand, a fact that had proved fatal, both for the Potions Master, as Voldemort had had Nagini kill him; and for Voldemort himself, as the wand did not give him the absolute mastery he had expected.
"So that's it," Garrick Ollivander interrupted, evidently excited by something. "The first law!"
"The first law?" Borage asked, clearly interested, despite his earlier comment.
"The first law of wandlore: the wand chooses the wizard. The Elder wand chooses, not the wizard who kills, but the wizard who is strong. It chose Mr Malfoy because he disarmed Dumbledore; and then Mr Potter because he won the allegiance of Mr Malfoy's wand; a ten-inch hawthorn, if I remember aright?"
Draco nodded, not altogether surprised; Ollivander was famous for remembering every wand he ever sold.
"That's why the wand wouldn't kill you, Mr Potter," the wandmaker continued. "And why the Avada Kedavra he cast killed him, even though you only repelled it with an Expelliarmus. You didn't repel the spell at all; you merely reminded the wand who was its master, and it did the rest."
Harry, respecting the wizard's age and expertise, waited for him to finish his little digression, and then spoke about the events of the morning he had given Draco his wand back. He told them of the spell Voldemort had put on Draco and Lucius through their Dark marks, to bind their magic so they couldn't betray him. And that when he died, Draco's magic was locked away. He told of the anger that had been kindled inside him that Voldemort would do such a thing. How he had no idea how to stop it, no clue what spells would be required to break the curse. And how, not knowing what else to do, he had laid the elder wand on Draco's wand and spoken the only words that came: "Life … Wholeness ... Connection ... Belonging …"
"Fascinating," Ollivander said.
"Do you have an idea, Garrick?" Borage asked him.
"It seems," the wandmaker replied, "that Mr Potter somehow got hold of the magic inherent in the wand itself. That what he did was not so much to cast a spell as to pour out the wand's magic itself." He fixed his eyes keenly on Harry. "But there must be something more. The wand itself was not enough; not only were Mr Malfoy and his father released from the curse, but I hear a rumour that, at the same time, Mr Frederick Weasley came back from the dead. Is that not so? Did you do that too, Mr Potter?"
"Yes it is true," Harry agreed, speaking slowly, seeking the right words. "But I didn't do it. Or at least, I didn't try to do it. Perhaps it was an accident?"
Harry was, in truth, rather amazed that no-one had tackled him on this question at any time in the preceding five weeks; but that didn't make it any easier to answer, especially as his answer here would become known to the whole of the Wizengamot today and the whole wizarding world tomorrow. He thought back to Saturday the first of May, as he stood there, shaking with rage that anyone would seek to destroy a fellow wizard in the way that Voldemort had done to Draco and Lucius. He remembered:
The wand in his right hand started to glow with hot magic. Clearly it knew what was needed, even if he didn't. He felt something hard Apparate into his left hand, and then the two wizards were suddenly engulfed in a huge cloud of white light. It hit the column, which crumbled to dust at its touch, and then spread out throughout the Hall.
And as he thought, he realised that was all he actually remembered at the time; he had then fallen into an exhausted stupor, and wound up sitting on Draco's lap … He pulled himself away from that memory rather viciously. Not really the time or place to dwell on that memory, he told himself.
No, it was only later that he realised it was the Resurrection Stone he held. So, was he going to mention it? NO WAY! A voice shrieked in his mind, and he completely agreed with it. He told them of the light, and the column, and the falling unconscious; but the stone, no, no-one needed to know about that. It was enough that the Wizarding world was aware that the Elder wand existed; the stone was surely the more dangerous of the two. For the wand gave power, but the stone could give information, knowledge from the dead. Who knew what could be discovered and how that knowledge might be used?
When he finished, there was another general hubbub as people expounded theories. Once again, it got too much for Doge, who demanded quiet.
Once he had got the members under control again, he spoke in his usual mild tones: "it seems rather stupid to have invited such an eminent professional as Mr Ollivander to this chamber and then not to listen to his advice." He turned to the wand-maker and asked, with grave and gentle courtesy, "would you be kind enough to give us your summation of Mr Potter's remarks, please?"
"It has long been believed that the wand was stolen from the wandmaker Gregorovitch," Garrick began, speaking very deliberately and pedagogically. "From Mr Potter's testimony, we have a clear line of possession from Gellert Grindelwald, who I am convinced was the thief, as it is known that he suddenly became very powerful indeed; through Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy, and Mr Potter himself. As he now holds the wand, and is able to produce it, I think there now can be no doubt that this is indeed the Elder wand of legend."
"Then, it is clear that the wand, which once possessed great power, no longer does. Quite how is still somewhat of a mystery to me; but it is clear that Mr Potter used it to perform some very powerful magic: he released the imprisoned magic of two wizards, magic that had been locked away by Dark Magic performed by one of the greatest proponents of the Dark Arts who ever lived; and he also seems, accidentally, to have managed to bring back a wizard from the dead."
Here Ollivander, having stressed 'accidentally' very heavily, fixed Harry with another stare, but Harry just looked back at him blankly.
"Well," the wand-maker continued, "Mr Potter is unable to provide any further explanation; but of course it is unfair to expect it. What he did was completely unprecedented, so there's no reason why he would be better placed to explain how it happened than anyone else. We are left with the inescapable facts that Mr Potter performed three amazing feats of magic, using the power of the Elder wand; and that that wand no longer retains its power. Can we conclude that the power was all used up in the acts of magic?"
Ollivander's style might be a little dry, and his voice rather monotonous; but at this point, he had all of the attention of his listeners. No sound other than his voice filled the chamber; the storyteller might be unskilled at rhetoric, but it didn't matter, they were all fascinated with the story.
"Here, the safe answer has to be, we don't know," Ollivander continued, and his audience let out a collective sigh at the cliched conclusion. "It would be so simple, so convenient, to say 'yes, the Elder wand no longer has power, and never will have again'. And in fact, I think that is true. But whether its power was destroyed, or has been moved into some other object, or has met some other fate, there I fear we must still keep an open mind."
Before anyone else could, Doge spoke. "Thank you, Mr Ollivander, for that masterly summation. And there, I fear, we must let the matter rest. Unless anyone has anything further to add?"
No-one did.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have set up a thread for replies at http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/56042-review-replies-for-returning-to-sanity/ . I will generally try to reply to posts before posting a new chapter.
- 33
- 34
- 35
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Returning to Sanity