Harry Black and the Rise of the Dark Prince

Once again a big thank you to my editor Night auditor for his relentless work and listening to my ideas. I have recently been reading A Marauders Plan, by catsarecool (Rachel500), again and it has inspired some of the scenes over the rest of the story.

Six Months ago…

 

“C’mon, Neil, classes have finished for today,” a dark-skinned man urged the brunette sitting at the table pouring over his notes, “we’re all going out to have a few drinks at The Leaky.”

“It is all right, I am trying to work on my project, I still have some more to do tonight,” Healer-in-Training Neil Abbot replied to his friend. “You go on ahead, Dion. If I get finished here, I will join you.”

“I doubt it,” Dion replied with a grin, then waved at the man before closing the door and heading off. Neil looked around at the empty space, the wooden benches all empty except for his which was covered in parchment for his final project. He had six months before he had to present it to The Board, then he would be declared a Healer at St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries if he passed the exams and got a good mark on the Project. He looked down at the parchment in his hands.

“The Valerian root is used in both the Forgetfulness Potion, the Draught of Living Death, and The Sleeping Draught. Too long drinking The Sleeping Draught is addictive,” Neil spoke to himself leaning back on his chair staring up at the roof. “What possible ingredient, could be used to counter valerian?” 

His mind swirled; he had already been working on the Project now to cut the addiction to Valerian root for four months. All his teachers said the Project was ambitious, but Neil was adamant he would find a way. He had watched an aunt deteriorate while under the influence of Valerian root.

“In the news today, the Black Yule ball was a resounding success. The Duke of Anglia, Sirius Black the Tenth, opened his home up to Wizarding World’s high society. Our reporter said everyone had a wonderful time with the high society coming out in full regalia, something we have not seen in a long time.” 

Neil wondered how his cousin Hannah had got on at the ball, she was close friends with The Duke’s eldest  son, if Neil recalled correctly.

“Augusta Longbottom was seen at His Grace’s ball, the first time a Longbottom has been seen at Black ball. She wore a beautiful dress without her usual vulture hat. Instead, she wore a lovely Occasion Hat of deep purple to match the passionflower she had pinned to her chest–“ Neil never heard the rest as a lightbulb suddenly lit up in his brain: Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata) was used in the Muggle world according to his Aunt, Hannah’s mother who was Apothecarist in the Muggle world. Pharmacist’s, he believed they were called. 

Neil spent the next few hours going over his notes and done the equations, it was nearing midnight by the time he grabbed up several sheaves of parchment and dashed out of the study room. A couple of floors later he hammered on a door. After several moments, a man opened up blinking wearily at the intruder.

“This better be good or I shall hex you into next Sunday,” Senior Healer Richards told the man.

“I have done it, I have found a virtual cure for Cruciatus and stop the addictiveness of The Sleeping draught,” Neil huffed. Richards eyes widened as he woke up,

“That is extraordinary, come in come in, while I grab my glasses,” Richards told the healer. This was the start of one of the greatest modern finds of the 20^th century.

 

Three months ago…

 

“Welcome back, Regent Longbottom,” Senior Healer Thomas Sanderson told the elder woman. She had been to see her son and daughter-in-law and was now in the office of Healer-in-charge of the Janus Thickey Ward.

“I would like to say it is a pleasure,” Augusta Longbottom replied stiffly as she settled primly onto a seat opposite the man overseeing the treatment of her family. The gentleman offered his guest a cup of tea, pouring it out for her.

“I know you dislike pleasantries so I shall begin as you know and signed off on we have been administering the Flora Potion to Frank and Alice. Although the potion is experimental, we expected good things from it,” Sanderson explained.

“Yes, you told me this when I agreed to let them administer the Potion,” Augusta replied impatiently.

“Correct, in fact the rate of success has been 100% in the other five cases of Cruciatus over-use,” the Senior Healer continued.

“I detect a But coming,” Augusta sighed. For fifteen years, the woman had periodically allowed the Healers to use experimental potions to try find a cure and return Frank and his wife to their minds. She knew this would be the last time, this Potion had failed. Augusta had not told Neville about the experiment, even with the greater odds, in case like all the others it failed.

“You would be right, in your case there is a But, as I said all the other cases have been successful in the first month administrating the Potion. However, in Frank and Alice’s case, though we have now been dispensing the Potion for a little over two months, it does not seem to have changed anything,” Sanderson told the formidable woman.

“So, we are back to square one?”

“Not necessarily, one of our student interns was in here running diagnostics and used a new technique we have been introducing from Japan. Firstly, she found a potion in their system, one so old our Librarian had to go the Great Library in Alexandria,” Sanderson explained.

“Well, what was this Potion?” Augusta asked, now starting to get annoyed.

“It mimics the effect of the Cruciatus curse,” Sanderson returned and let that sink in for a moment. The old lady looked at him, as her brain processed what she had just been told.

“If I am understanding correctly, they had remnants of a Potion that mimics the Cruciatus curse,” Augusta repeated slowly, getting a nod, “but we know they were attacked by the Lestranges and Barty Crouch, Jr.”

“Ah, but were they?” Sanderson seemed to have gotten into his role as detective. “We bought in a Healer, Derek Laidlaw. He is a Private Mind-Healer in the Hospital and was willing to use Occlumency on them.”

“I dread to ask, but what did he find?” the Regent Longbottom looked horrified at the suggestion they had been misdiagnosed.

“Someone very powerful has locked their minds away. He, himself, was unable to get too close to their very being. He almost passed out several times,” the Healer revealed.

“But surely Cruciatus locks their minds away, if I understand what you have been telling me for years, surely Frank and Alice did this to themselves to perhaps protect parts of their minds,” Augusta responded.

“No, I thought that at first. But Derek explained there is a virtual glass cage around their minds, someone externally has locked their minds away,” Sanderson answered.

“So, what can we do?”

“I have spoken to a colleague in Germany who suggested Rika Doi, she is the foremost expert in Mind Healing and matters of the mind,” the man held his hand up stopping any questions. “We have not contacted her before, because the cruciatus is not merely mind healing alone.”

“Please contact this Rika Doi. I shall spare no expense getting her here,” Augusta said, a new hope blossoming in her chest. She also felt anger as the woman realised someone tried to hide this attack by using Cruciatus as an excuse. Augusta had an idea of who might have attacked Frank and Alice, but the question was: Why?

 

One month ago…

 

“Do you think it will work?” the Duke of Anglia asked as he walked alongside the formidable Regent Longbottom, Augusta. The woman had become somewhat friends with the younger man since he had taken his titles. He also had known Frank and Alice well, all three being in the same House at Hogwarts.

“I am hopeful, from the literature I have read about Rika Doi she is the best in the world,” Augusta replied as the pair entered a private room, which had been laid out with two beds that currently held Frank and Alice Longbottom. She stepped over to her son and gently stroked his brown hair. He looked like an older version of Neville and Augusta was so proud of her grandson.

“Ah, Regent Longbottom and Your Grace, I am glad to see you here already,” Thomas Sanderson greeted the pair as he entered the room with a small woman beside him. Sirius was taken aback by the Asian looking-woman. She was short, perhaps a little under five feet with dark brown eyes. From what Augusta had said, he was expecting an elderly woman, but Rika Doi could not be older than forty, though he suspected she was younger.

“Greetings,” Rika Doi spoke bowing to both of them, “these are the patients, yes?”

“Yes, Rika. As I explained, they have a glass cage around their minds. It also appears they are trapped in some sort of scenario,” Sanderson explained.

“I will see,” Rika announced, stepping up to Frank first. Augusta stepped back but watched Rika like a hawk.

“Be careful, the cage has defences,” Sanderson added only getting a hum in acknowledgement. Rika placed her small hands on the Duke of Whitby’s head then closed her own eyes. 

For the first thirty minutes, they watched the woman closely. Occasionally Rika would grimace or frown at something causing Augusta to lean forward. However, after nearly an hour of no signs of anything happening, the three began to take it in turns to watch in case something happened. Sirius and Sanderson were first to leave, both going for drinks. At the two-hour mark, Sirius returned with a drink for Augusta, and she left to spend some time in the canteen. Sanderson took over at the three hour mark and Sirius returned home to freshen up. By five hours all three had returned but were talking quietly amongst themselves when there was a gasp.

“Dumbledore!” came a raspy voice. Sirius could see the tears streaming down Augusta’s face as Frank spoke his first legible words in over fifteen years. Frank Longbottom opened his cornflower-blue eyes to stare at his mother.

“Frank,” she said gently.

“Mother where am I?” the disorientated man looked around. Thomas stepped up to the bed and caught the man’s attention.

“Can you tell me your name?” the Healer asked beginning to exam the bed-bound man.

“Frank Albert Longbottom,” the Duke of Whitby replied.

“When were you born?” Sanderson asked as a Medi-witch entered pulling in a small trolley. The Healer allowed his patient to have a small drink to lubricate his throat.

“Fourth of August, Nineteen Fifty-Eight,” Frank answered though he appeared to be getting sharper by the minute.

“And can you tell me what house you went in at Hogwarts?”

“Gryffindor, though the hat nearly put me in Hufflepuff,” Frank replied, looking more alive than he had ever been. Augusta gave a watery chuckle. Again, this was the most emotions Sirius had ever seen from the stern older woman.

“Can you tell me what the last thing is you remember?” Sanderson asked. Frank looked down at his blanket’s, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Dumbledore,” the man all but growled. “A few days ago, we discovered the truth of our godson’s parentage, Sirius Black was really Harry’s father. He was to come live with us after Lily Evans and James Potter had been killed, Sirius had been arrested and Harry was to come live with our little Nev and us.”

“I should have known Dumbledore had something to do with this,” Sirius snapped angrily. Frank looked at his friend for the first time.

“Wow, you look old.”

“Nice to see you too, Franky,” Sirius returned with a small chuckle.

“How long have I been affected?” Frank asked looking at the three.

“Fifteen years,” Sirius finally answered the man. A stream of swearwords came from the former Aurors mouth that would make a sailor blush.

“Franky!” Augusta exclaimed.

“Sorry mother, but I have missed Nev’s childhood,” Frank admitted.

“You are not the only one,” Sirius muttered. Then aloud he said, “What happened next?”

“Alice and I were going through the parchment-work to adopt Harry, we had contacted Gringotts as we knew we were in the Will of Lily, but we kept getting rebuffed. Someone had sealed the Will,” Frank glared out the magic window. “We found out Dumbledore had been meddling in everything. On the Fourth of November he came around, we thought to explain himself.

Before I knew it Dumbledore had stunned Alice. I could hear Neville crying from the Nursery when Dumbledore bound me. He told me I had to forget for the Greater Good,” Frank continued after taking a drink again. “Next thing I know, I am waking here. I remember little glimpses of moments, but thought they were just a dream.”

“That bastard has meddled in too many lives,” Augusta swore.

“Mother!” Frank cried. While the three chatted, Sanderson had been seeing to Rika Doi.

“How is she?” Sirius asked, concerned.

“I will be fine, Mister Grim. Need sleep!” Rika told the man, though she looked rather ashen.

“I am going to take Miss Doi to the Guest Wing, she may need a few days rest before we are ready to revive Alice,” Sanderson told the group who all nodded. He then led the Japanese woman out of the door. Sirius and Augusta began to fill in Frank until he got tired and needed sleep.

 

30^th July 1996 (Today)…

 

Harry wondered through the house trying to while away the time, but they were due to go out. He heard the cries of a baby, following the sounds to the Nursery where Teddy was crying his cot.

“Shh, shh,” Harry crooned and picked the boy up, jiggling him slightly so the cries become giggles. The usual turquoise hair become black, and his eyes become green, so the boy could have been Harry’s son.

“I’s sorry Master Harry, Noj nearly burnt cooking,” Sair popped into existence.

“Do not worry, Sair, you go and mind your Kitchen. I will look after Teddy,” Harry replied moving over to a rocking chair in the corner. Sitting down carefully Harry began to warble to the small child getting Teddy to close his eyes and fall gently to sleep, one thumb in his mouth.

“You are going to make a great father one day,” Narcissa whispered as she entered the room. Harry blushed smiling up at the woman. Every so gently they swapped places with Narcissa taking Teddy and rocking back in the chair while Harry unceremoniously dropped onto a nearby bean bag chair.

“Thanks, I think,” Harry looked down at the praise from Narcissa. His face become even redder.

“I am glad you took on the role of godfather, there is no one I trust more,” Narcissa once again praised the boy who studied his trainers.

“Will you be teaching us potions again this year?” Harry asked the woman that had become like a mother to him, trying to deflect the subject away from him.

“No, I am taking a break to look after Teddy,” she replied.

“After Snape left, your lessons were the best we ever had,” Harry sounded disappointed.

“I am glad to know someone appreciated them,” Narcissa’s laugh tinkled through the room. “Your father is going to try speaking to an old Potion’s Master of ours, but he may need your help.”

“Why?” Harry crinkled his nose.

“Horace Slughorn is a….Collector,” Narcissa paused for a moment. “He has a lot of connections and likes to ‘influence’ people, getting a buzz if he has introduced two people of importance.”

“I feel like I do not like him already,” Harry replied.

“His ultimate collection would be the ‘Boy Who lived.’” Harry could not look more disgusted at that comment.

“Now I know I want to stay away from him,” Harry returned grunting.

“We shall see,” Narcissa gave him a small smile, before they lapsed into a companiable silence. “How is your leg now? I noticed you were not using your walking stick in Diagon Alley.”

“I hate that thing,” the teen grimaced, “I have been using that charm Aunt Andi gave me, it helps me walk better.”

“You know, it will eventually stop working. You remember what the Healer’s told us, that you may never regain full use of your leg,” Narcissa told the dark-haired teen gently.

“Can I not just forget about it for a few days?” Harry whined. The older witch looked at him sympathetically before silently performing ‘finite Incantatem.” Immediately Harry felt the tightening around his leg loosen up and knew he would need his cane again.

“I thought you had a special project going on?” Narcissa smiled coyly.

“I do, but I was hoping not to have to complete it,” Harry grumbled. They heard a noise at the door, both looking up to find Hermione looking at them. Harry stared at his wife, friend, and partner. Her curly brown hair fell around her shoulders and Hermione’s freckles stood out on her pale face despite the English summer weather. The book-worm was wearing a beautiful summery dress that did not hide her curves. Harry smiled at the young woman, trying to be discrete about checking her out.

“Are you ready to go?” Hermione asked.

“Sure, let me get my cane,” Harry responded giving a quick glare at Narcissa, though the smile on his face dispelled the look.

“No need,” Hermione answered producing the cane from behind her. She stepped into the room and helped Harry from the beanie bag chair allowing the dark-haired teen to lean on her as the boy steadied himself. He took the cane with his right-hand and slipped his left hand into Hermione’s , linking their fingers. He could almost see Narcissa cooing behind his back, so Harry made a hasty retreat.

“How are you feeling about all the revelations?” Harry asked as they passed down the corridor.

“Strange, it’s been nearly two weeks and I still cannot get over the fact I am related to Dagworth-Granger,” Hermione replied getting a snigger from Harry. She looked at him in askance.

“Only you, Hermione, only you! Never change please.” Harry could not help himself and burst out into full on laughter.

“What?” Hermione stopped them at the top of the stairs looking affronted at Harry’s laugh.

“You are related to the greatest wizard and witch of all time, and you are more interested in Dagworth-Granger. That is my book-worm.” Harry pressed a kiss to her temple and put his arm around the girl’s shoulders as they slowly moved down the stairs.

“Merlin would be quicker than you and he has been dead a thousand years,” Draco drawled leaning against the frame of the door into the Floo room.

“Seriously, when are you moving out?” Harry responded with a groan.

“Not nearly quick enough,” Draco muttered, then looked at Hermione. “I thought it would only take you a few minutes to get Harry, not three hours.”

“It was not three hours,” Hermione stiffened. “Besides who said you were invited to the party anyway?”

“Nev,” Draco replied simply. Harry was so surprised at Draco’s use of his friends nickname he stopped. A year ago, the blond would have bullied the budding Herbologist.

“We should go, then, or they will eat the cake without us,” Harry followed his wife in.

“I do not think they will start without you, honey bunny,” Hermione winked and leaving the two boys speechless walked through the flame.

“What in Medraut’s name was that?” Draco turned to the hapless brunette.

“I think she was getting her revenge, for me calling her Kitten a few weeks ago,” Harry replied with a growing smile.

“You two are weird, I am glad I have Theo,” Draco replied.

“Is he still sending you letters every other day?” Harry asked with a smirk.

“It is not every other day, once a week,” Draco flushed with a roll of his eyes. Harry’s smile threatened to grow wider, so Draco punched his arm and strode through the fireplace with his nose held up in the air.

“Have fun, Harry,” Narcissa told him from the door.

“I will, sorry you are not coming,” Harry returned.

“Someone has to look after the house,” the dark-haired witch replied jiggling the baby quietly to keep him asleep.

“Do not let Riley into the kitchen,” Harry advised.

“I heard that,” a yell echoed through the house. With a final laugh and a yell Harry limped through the green flames arriving at an upscale Parlour like his own.

“My Lord Rendlesham, welcome to Ealdvale Manor,” Neville Longbottom stood next to his grandmother. Harry could see how the boy had grown up over the last year. Gone was the baby fat, the now sixteen-year-old Marquess of Grossmont was leaner for all the exercise he had been doing. His sandy brown hair fell over his forehead where he let the bangs grow out. Despite the formal robes and clothing Neville wore, Harry could still see a leaf stuck in the other teens hair.

“Lord Grossmont, a pleasure to be here,” Harry replied equally as formal then turned to Augusta Longbottom, who looked the most relaxed he had ever seen her. He bowed slightly, “Regent Longbottom, a pleasure to be in your home.”

“Lord Rendlesham, Happy birthday and thank you for attending today,” Augusta inclined her head slightly.

“Now that’s out of the way,” Neville boomed and took several large steps and hugged his cousin/godbrother. “Family.”

“Family,” Harry returned gripping the other boy’s wrist.

“Whoa, where are your glasses?” Neville suddenly exclaimed. “I am sure I saw you have them on at Diagon Alley.”

“Yes, you do look better without them, Lord Rendlesham,” Augusta added.

“I have been working with Aunt Andi over the last year to see if I could get rid of my glasses completely. Last week, during an interview Dumbledore let slip some of the potions and charms he had used. Using this information, we could counter some and I was able to take something to improve my vision,” Harry explained.

“Wow, that is great,” Neville told his friend leading him into the main hall, then into a grand Hall, which appeared larger than the Great Hall. Many of their peers were there including Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones, several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Most of the Gryffindor’s in their year and the Quidditch team.

“You really know–“ Fred spoke.

 “–how to throw a party, Nev,”  George finished. Both had plates in their hand and was enjoying the buffets the house-elves had made. Katie Bell and Angelina Johnson, the beaters for the Gryffindor Quidditch team came over and kissed Harry on each cheek wishing him a happy birthday. Harry was blinded as Colin Creevey took a photograph of the pair of them.

“That boy is a nuisance!” Harry growled.

“Grandma invited him,” Neville shrugged with a laugh at the other teens face.

“I am glad she allowed Draco to come,” Harry said looking at the blond talking to Hermione and Daphne Greengrass. The dark-haired teen caught sight of Cepheus in conversation with Astoria Greengrass, Danica, Reilly, and Mark Evans. Close by Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley and Rose Zeller were talking quietly.

“I think Grandma invited half of Hogwarts,” Neville replied.

“Seems like it,” Harry returned. The pair moved over to Hermione, Draco, and Daphne. Harry slipped an arm around Hermione’s waist as Daphne’s expression softened.

“How is Theo?” Daphne asked Draco.

“Bored, and wanting to come back to Britain,” the blond returned.

“He is coming back to Hogwarts, right?” the girl asked in return.

“As if we could keep him away,” Draco drawled.

“I see Ceph and Tori are getting on well,” Harry commented looking at the pair.

“Oh, Tori has a definite crush on Ceph, I have been teasing her about it since the beginning of summer,” Daphne told them as she watched Astoria laugh at something Ceph said. They saw Danica and Riley give each other knowing looks.

“OK, everyone, gather around. It is time for the birthday boys to open their presents,” Sirius boomed out. Harry groaned but followed Neville up to a pair of tables. He still had his arm around Hermione’s waist, if he had to suffer, she could help him. Augusta was also stood by the table with a small, relaxed smile on her face. All his friends gathered around. He thought this might have been one time where all his friends were together for his birthday. Sirius directed Harry over the right-hand table while Neville went to the left. 

All their friends watched them as the pair, very self-consciously began to open presents. Harry thought this must be the most presents he ever had. He got books, quidditch supplies, a new notebook from Hermione, and sweets galore. Neville looked to have got a good haul of presents too, like Harry thanking individual people that were in the room. Soon they were all finished, and the pair had an array of new stuff surrounding them.

“Thank you, Sirius and Madam Longbottom,” Harry acknowledged the pair with Neville following suit.

 “Now, there is one more present for Neville,” Sirius could not bite back a grin. Harry knew his father was up to something. He almost groaned aloud, hoping the man did not prank the other sixteen-year-old. Harry tracked Sirius and Remus to the back of the room where they went through an open door. 

Moments later a wheel come through, then a wheelchair with a man sitting in it followed by Sirius pushing the wheelchair. Remus followed close after with a woman, both appeared to be smiling brightly. Harry’s jaw dropped in shock as Neville collapsed to his knees.

“Mother, Father,” he uttered, before somehow finding his legs to run over to the pair. Sirius and Remus left the pair together as Neville embraced them. Frank and Alice Longbottom looked better than he had ever seen them. Both of his parents were whispering to Neville as they hugged him to them. Harry felt a bitter lump rising in his throat as he remembered his mother was dead. Though his dad had been returned to them it was still a reminder of something he lost and wished to have since he was a toddler.

Harry shook himself; this was about Neville not his own grief. Hermione squeezed his hand as the pair made their way over to Neville after giving the boy time to reunite with his parents.

“Your Grace, Lady Whitby,” Harry bowed before the pair as Hermione curtsied.

“Come here, Harry, I will have none of that. You can call me Aunt Alice, your mother was like a sister to me,” Alice beckoned the dark-haired teen over pulling him into a hug. Harry cried like he had not cried in a long time as he embraced the woman that would have been his family if things had been different. 

~

“My Lord, Ollivanders is still not talking,” Geoffrey Nott dared to interrupt Lord Voldemort while he was in the library researching. Voldemort closed his trembling right hand and whirled around with his wand in his left hand.

“Cruciatus,” Nott senior dropped to his knees as the torture curse made every joint in his body feel like it was on fire. However, knowing his Lord, Nott would not cry out or scream. Voldemort let up on the curse, “do not interrupt me when I am doing research.”

“Yes, my lord,” Nott gritted out through the pain.

“Now, I will be down soon to see if Master Ollivanders shall tell me what he knows,” Voldemort answered turning away in a clear dismissal. Nott bowed out of the room not daring to move his eyes away from Voldemort’s back. As soon as he was gone a figure emerged from the bookshelves.

“You could have allowed me to have some fun with Nott,” the figure replied. Voldemort could hear the pout in their voice.

“You need to learn patience, my child. Nott will only respond to me but one day you shall rule next to me, and we shall have them all on their knees in fear.”

“One day,” Prince De Coeur snorted like the teen they were.

“Now, have you found any mention of the Grail amongst these books?” Voldemort asked his child.

“I would have more if I spoke to Draco, he knows a lot about this subject,” Noah answered.

“I will have one of my spies in the school approach him, but for the time being we shall have to settle on the books here,” Voldemort responded opening a book he had laid out on the table before him.

“Do you have the time? Are the symptoms getting worse?” Noah asked concerned.

“Of course, I have the time,” Voldemort snapped, “I am immortal, this whatever this is, will not stop me.”

“Yes, Father,” Noah bowed his head in submission.

“Good, now what can you tell me of the Grail?”

“Said to be a cup or plate, it is supposed to grant those that drink from it healing powers and true immortality,” Noah recited, “Crafted before Merlin itself, the Grail is of unknown origins, but it has stories even in the Muggle world. Many places have been prominent in the location of the Grail including Glastonbury, Rosslyn Chapel, and several other places across Europe.”

“Who do you think created it? If the legend exists,” Voldemort asked his child curiously.

“A powerful wizard, it was not the work of a god,” Noah scoffed, “it sounds more like the Philosophers Stone.”

“Very similar, and more than likely made by Alchemy too, but the Stone does not grant the bearer true immortality. You have you keep drinking a potion with the Stone used to help you stop the aging process.”

“Sounds boring, so what will you do next?”

“I will send some of our people to Glastonbury, Rosslyn Chapel and Montségur Castle,” Voldemort responded musing aloud, “The British Library and Alexandria library are other prospects for clues to the Grail’s location. Now, I need to find what Ollivanders knows about the Elder wand.”