The Tribrid and Her Reflection {Book Two - - Complete}

Ding-Dong, Hope Is Dead

The power coursing through Hope's body wasn't the physical ability she'd thought she'd lost. She'd always had that and simply had forgotten how to channel it. The knowledge she'd lost and gained back in an instant made her veins feel like they were on fire.

It was like she'd been dipped in gasoline, and someone dropped a lighted match.

Hope slowly stood to her feet, gazing down at her hands. Hands, she remembered. Blood-soaked hands, metaphorically speaking, that took her to this moment in her journey.

"Hope?" Newt's voice came in a whisper.

Looking up, she greeted his wide-eyed gaze. Those green eyes were reddened by many falling tears. Her eyes flitted around the place, but only Theseus stood in addition.

"Where's Albus?" she asked, looking at him with a frown.

Newt swallowed audibly. "They took him. I don't know where," he paused, "Hope I-"

"I know," Hope moved to him, crushed her lips to his, and stroked his jaw lightly, "I'll be able to explain things later, but right now, we need to move. We need to find him before they go too far in their little interrogation."

"You don't think she'd kill him, do you?" Theseus asked with a frown.

Hope's eyes darted to look at him. "I wouldn't put it past her." She looked down at Newt's wrists. "Any chance of getting these off?" She asked, tapping the cuffs.

"Oh, yes. Allow me." Theseus said as he tapped the spelled metal with his wand, and restraints fell with a clang.

Hope looked between them. "And you have no idea where they might be headed?"

Theseus shook his head. "I hardly ever knew anything. They used the Imperius curse on me to make me cooperate...to get closer to you all." He swallowed hard. "I'm so..."

"Don't apologize," Hope said with a quick jolt, "it wasn't your fault, and we don't have time for unnecessary guilt."

She had her own internal battle as she remembered where she was this time last year. One thing was sure: she'd been right in her earlier predictions.

Not knowing what she'd done was easier.

"You have no way of tracking them?"

They shook their heads with a frown.

Hope nodded with a sigh. "Okay. I'll be able to," she said, thinking through the spells in her arsenal, "but we need to get to Godric's Hollow."

"Why?" Newt frowned, brows furrowing.

"I need a Dumbledore's blood."

Hope held Newt's arm as they apparated in front of the Dumbledore residence. Hope blinked the blur from her eyes and stared forward as Theseus appeared next to them, carrying a rolled map she'd requested.

Knocking, it took only a few moments for Credence to answer the door. His eyes narrowed with suspicion upon opening.

"We weren't expecting another session for a while." Credence frowned.

Hope nodded. "I wish that was why we're here, but there's no time to fully explain. Albus is in trouble, and I need blood from a Dumbledore. A few drops will do." She said, pushing herself forward and into the house, where she took the map from Theseus and spread it over the dining table.

"What's going on?" Aberforth asked with a frown as he entered the space from the hallway.

"I'd prefer your blood," she said to Aberforth, "I don't know what Obscurial blood might show, and you're a closer link to Albus." Hope's voice cut through straight-forward. No nonsense. This was a matter of life and death, and Hope wasn't playing games.

"Why do you need my blood?" Aberforth scoffed, glaring at her.

She glanced up, eyes sharp. "To save your brother's life. Give me a knife."

Aberforth stared at her a moment before nodding and moving forward. He offered his hands while Credence retrieved a knife from the kitchen, setting it on the table. Taking hold of his wrist, Hope sliced his fingertip until it dripped onto the map's yellowed parchment. He took his hand back and wrapped a fist around his finger to stunt the bleeding.

Hope raised her hand over the map. "Sequitur." She murmured. Almost immediately, the blood pooled together in a tight circle and began to travel the map, landing in London. More specifically, where the Ministry of Magic was located.

"They're actually at the Ministry?" Hope asked, looking up at Theseus.

Frowning, he shrugged. "If they are, I don't know where they'd be unless..."

"Unless what?" Newt asked with a frown.

"There's a new section of the Ministry under construction. It was delayed for one reason or another and now lays dormant until someone needs it. It's underneath the Ministry itself."

Hope nodded. "Well, I think Sylvia has found use for it."

"What do we do?" Newt asked with a frown.

Glancing over at him, she tilted her head. "We go to the Ministry."

"And do what?" Newt asked. "How will we get him away from that many wizards?"

Hope shrugged. "Well," she smirked, "you can apparate us, and I'll take it from there. If you don't mind."

Newt stared at her, growing confusion in his eyes. "To do what exactly?"

Hope tilted her head, and a slow worry set in her soul. Something she feared might just come to light tonight. "Newt, I'll be honest. You knew the Hope that didn't remember who she was. The Hope that was afraid of her own shadow..." she trailed off and breathed.

"That Hope is dead."

Newt watched, swallowing hard. "What will you do, Hope?"

Her lips curled into a wicked grin.

"I'll kill them all."