The Greater Good: Dumbledore and Grindelwald

Peverell the Third

A long time ago,

The sun had just begun to slip up over the horizon and Godric's Hollow was as silent as the grave. Which was appropriate, considering that Ignotus wasn't long from his own. The old house's drawing room had been emptied of all furniture and ornaments, save for the old rocking chair that Ignotus sat upon. He faced the big windows at the end of the room, watching the sunlight stream in.

Ignotus had seen countless sunrises, but this one was different. It felt different. Somehow, knowing it would be the last one he ever saw gave it a surreal, ethereal quality. Ignotus winced as pain suddenly gripped his chest. Every breath hurt. His hands were as brittle as ice, and try as he might to desist, trembled constantly.

So. Seventy-seven. Not a bad age to go out on, although Ignotus confessed that he would have hoped for better. Especially considering who he was, and what he could do. The Peverell family had always been scholars and scientists and men of knowledge, but none moreso than Ignotus and his two elder brothers, Antioch and Cadmus. Ignotus had always known that what they had achieved over their lives would shape the future of magic itself for generations to come. And while Antioch and Cadmus had chosen to walk the path of knowledge that had ultimately led to their demise, Ignotus had survived.

One thing was for sure. Ignotus did not fear Death. He welcomed it.

There was a gentle tapping at the door, but before Ignotus could answer, his body was wracked with painful coughing. Suddenly the door opened, and a young man poked his head around the door, his expression one of utmost concern. "Father!" he exclaimed.

At once, the young man rushed to his father's side, taking a knee beside the rocking chair. Ignotus waited patiently for the coughing to subside before he answered. "Perseus. My boy. You're here."

"Of course, father," Perseus Peverell said firmly. "I'm not going to leave your side."

"You must," Ignotus beseeched. "You have a family of your own. Your daughter...she needs you right now. I'm an old man, leave me to die."

"Iolanthe is grieving how she grieves," Perseus said magnanimously, but Ignotus would have had to be deaf not to hear the callousness in his son's voice, and blind not to see the tensing of his jaw.

"You disapprove," Ignotus said shortly. It wasn't a question, it was a deduction.

Ignotus watched his son consider masking the truth before kicking the idea into touch. "Her grandfather is dying," Perseus said finally. "And she's...out with that damned Potter boy."

Despite the situation, Ignotus couldn't help but laugh. "Thank Merlin I had a son and not a daughter," he said warmly. "You shouldn't be so harsh on him. Hardwin is a good lad, he's just a little...boisterous at times."

"He's a rich snob," Perseus said roughly. "I've never liked him."

"Iolanthe is just a child," Ignotus reminded him. "Death is too much for her to handle right now."

The sound of pattering at the window drew Ignotus' attention. "Is it raining?" he asked in bemusement.

Perseus frowned. "Yes, father. It's been raining all day."

"All day?" Ignotus blinked. "The day just started!"

The frown lines on Perseus' forehead deepened. "What do you mean, father? It's nearly midday."

Ignotus was shocked at this. "It's what?"

Perseus produced a handsome pocket watch from the recesses of his waistcoat and brandished it for his father to see. "Oh," Ignotus said. "So it is."

"I think you're tired, father," Perseus deduced.

"I must be," Ignotus agreed. For a moment, he sat in silence, just listening to the rain pound against the window panes. Then he reached out and took Perseus' hand in his own.

"I have something for you, my son," Ignotus said.

"Father?"

"The box, by the window," Ignotus vaguely gestured toward the window. "Bring it."

Perseus gingerly approached the window and picked up a large, flat box resting on the sill. He brought it back to his father. "For me?"

Ignotus nodded.

"What is it?"

Ignotus narrowed his eyes. "You know what it is, boy."

Perseus' jawline tightened once more. "You honour me, father."

"What you hold in your hands is the crowning achievement of my life, both as a wizard and as a scientist," Ignotus said proudly. "And it is the greatest honour of my life to be able to pass that down to you, my boy. As I hope you will to Iolanthe one day."

"I shall," Perseus nodded. "And Father, I...I'm sorry I couldn't give you a grandson. I'm sorry that the Peverell name will end with me."

"The Peverell name is nothing," Ignotus shook his head. "This family's strength comes from the bond that we have with one another."

Ignotus gripped his son's hand tighter. "Whatever your grandchildren are called, Perseus, I know that they'll go on to do amazing things. As will their grandchildren, and their grandchildren after them."

Perseus smiled wryly. "Not if Iolanthe marries that idiot Potter boy."

Ignotus returned the smile. "You made a promise, Perseus. Their betrothal was your gift to his father. When they come of age, they will be married. And whatever you may think of him, the boy will treat her right. I know it."

Another fit of coughing wracked Ignotus' body. Once again, Perseus looked alarmed, and distressed that he could not help. "Let me find something to ease the pain, father."

"No," Ignotus managed. "No, save your energy. My time has come."

Perseus blinked and a solitary tear rolled down his cheek. "I don't want you to go."

For a moment, for a single instant, Ignotus saw a speck of the little boy in his son, the boy that he'd beheld come into the world so many years ago. Ignotus smiled.

"Don't be sad," Ignotus shook his head. "I've had a good life. A good life."

Ignotus closed his eyes and just listened. He listened to the sound of the rain pattering off of the windows. My brothers were fools, he thought inwardly. They tried to control death, to cheat death. Because they feared death. But I do not.

I do not.

The last thought of Ignotus Peverell before he died was a defiant proclamation of courage. 

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