Mate

Timeline:

Grindlewald's Reign: 1891 – 1955

Peace/Tom Riddle Travels: 1955 – 1970 's

First Blood War Stared: 1970's

Marauders Born: 1972

Marauders Era: 1983 - 1990

Cantha was Born: July 31st 1992

Parents Died: October 31st 1993

Cantha Started Hogwarts: September 1st 2003

War Ended: May 1st 2009

Moved Mystic Falls: September 2nd 2009

Chapter 1: Moving

"Can we go up?" she asked the gargoyle.

"Feel free," groaned the statue.

They clambered over him and onto the spiral stone staircase that moved upward like an escalator. Acantha pushed open the door at the top; she had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where she had left it, before an earsplitting noise made her raise her wand with curses and jinxes on the tip of her tongue, thinking of returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort.

It was applause; all around the walls, the previous headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving her a standing ovation. They waved their hats and in some cases their wigs, they reached through their frames to grip each other's hands; they danced up and down on their chairs, in which they had been painted in: Dilys Derwent sobbed unashamedly; Dexter Fortescue was waving his ear-trumpet; and Phineas Niggelus Black called, in his high, reedy voice, "And let it be noted that Slytherin House played its part! Let our contribution not be forgotten!"

But Acantha had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard, the pride and the gratitude emanating from him filled Acantha with the same balm as a phoenix song and yet also with some resentment. Albus had hidden so many things from her, playing his cards close to his chest, when sharing all those thoughts could have saved so many people. Instead they had to fight a whole war that would not have even lasted this long if Dumbledore had just learnt to share his information and thoughts.

At last, Acantha help up her hands, the portraits falling in respectful silence, beaming and mopping their eyes and eagerly waiting for her to speak. She directed her words at Dumbledore, however, and chose them with enormous care. This was one topic that was better of as a myth or bedtime story. Even though she was exhausted and bleary-eyed, she had to make one last effort, seek one last piece of advice. Say what you would about the old man but he did give good advice and this was a topic that he had obviously researched a great deal, for whatever reason.

"The thing that was hidden in the snitch," she began, "I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"

"My dear girl, I do," said Dumbledore, while his fellow paintings looked confused and curious. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?"

"No one," said Acantha, and Dumbledore nodded his satisfaction.

"I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though," said Acantha and Dumbledore beamed.

"But of course, Acantha, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!"

"And then there's this." Acantha held up the Elder Wand; Ron and Hermione looked at it with reverence that even in her befuddled and sleep deprived state, Acantha did not like to see. The 17 Year old didn't understand the appeal of power or the lust behind it, seeing as the both the First and Second Blood War was fought for this very reason.

"I don't want it." said Acantha.

"What?" said Ron loudly, "Are you mental?"

"I know it's powerful," said Acantha Wearily. "But I was happier with mine, so…" she rummaged in the pouch hung around her neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Hermione had said it could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe. All she knew was that is this did not work, nothing would. She laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk with the upmost care, and touched it with the very tip of the Elder Wand, and said "Repairo."

As her wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Acantha knew that she had succeeded. She picked up her holly and phoenix feather companion and felt a sudden warmth in her fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion. The emerald eyed woman understood that she was now the master of the Elder Wand but she didn't have the same connection with it that she did with her first wand, the wand that had been with her through everything the moment she re-entered the Wizarding World.

"I'm putting the Elder Wand," she told Dumbledore, who was watching her with enormous affection and admiration, fake might she add since no one would leave someone they loved to live an abusive home without checking on her or making some effort to make their home lives better, "back where it came from. It can stay there; if I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

Dumbledore nodded; they smiled at each other.

"Are you sure?" said Ron. There was the faintest trace of longing in his voice as he looked at the Elder wand. She was reminded of simpler times, when they were eleven year old standing in front of a mirror just because she wanted to show her friend her parents. Ron had seen himself with the House Cup, Head Boy Badge and Quidditch Captain, being better than his brothers. Apparently, that had not faded completely over time but was only pushed to back burner.

"I think Cantha is right," said Hermione quietly.

"That wand's more trouble than its worth." Said Acantha. "And quite honestly," she turned away from the painted portraits, thinking now only of the four-poster bed lying waiting for her in Gryffindor Tower, and wondering whether Kreacher might bring her a sandwich there, fighting a war made a person hungry and tired, not that her nightmares would let her get much sleep but she was hoping for some relief since she had just won a war. "I've had enough trouble for a lifetime."

***Two Months Later***

The trio sat in the sitting room with the entire Weasley family, including Neville and Luna, and Draco and Astoria and Blaise. No one had lost their lives in the final battle, Fred had been close to it; he had gotten distracted by Percy pulling a joke that he didn't move fast enough from the rubble that had resulted from a blasting hex to the wall above him. If it hadn't been for his twin brothers, George, quick thinking he would have been dead.

"So what's this we-

Here about you moving-

Away from us, Delia." Fred and George finished each other's sentences, as normal. The emerald eyed beauty in question looked at the rest, taking in the somber faces and sighed. This was why she hated Lord Voldemort for, taking away the happiness and optimistic nature of everyone. She had already been a bit jaded from the Dursleys treatment now the others were too, everyone was expecting the worst news.

"Twins! What can you do with them?" Cantha huffed, everyone laughed out loud while the twins clutched their chests in mock pain, but then smirked at each other. This was why she had hit it off with the twins in the first place, all three of them had a talent for making people laugh.

"Don't change the-

Subject, missy. Why-

Are you moving?" they retorted. She sighed. "It's just... after the war, I thought... that... maybe... it would get better but it feels like we're still under attack. I just... I think that a change of scenery will be good for me, so I can move on." Cantha explained. They looked at each other and nodded, surprising Cantha with the immediate agreement, she thought, she would have to spend more time convincing them.

"Okay. Where are you going?" Draco asked. After the war they had become good friends, like brother and sister, the others had warmed up to him afterwards and now, they were probably known and the golden quartet. Draco had explained all the pressure he was under, though not without some cruel poking and picking at his nerves until he finally let it all go. Narcissa, or Aunt Cissy as she had been told to call the woman, had been very thankful to her niece, because that is what she was, for making the burden her son was carrying lighter. The three of them had bonded over the expectations of their parents or guardians but Cantha had understood the most. She could honestly say that she was closer to Draco and Blaise than she was to Ron and Hermione, simply because they understood the dark side of her life far better. It had been the same way with Blaise, they were actually friends throughout school, and they just never showcased it. While Draco was like a brother, Blaise basically was her twin brother for all intents and purposes.

"Well… funny you should mention that…. I bought a world map and some darts so one of you can throw it and my new home, hopefully, is where it lands. Okay?" Cantha explained. They all nodded and decided that Blaise would be deciding where his sister in everything but blood went, so he got up, picked up a dart from the packet and aimed it at the map. The dart had landed in the middle of Mystic Falls, Virginia, America. They looked at each other, silently finalizing it. Mystic falls wasn't too far from England, so apparition wouldn't be as much of a problem. It was far away enough to not be hounded my memories of the war but close enough to visit.