Deathly Hallows

Thinking bout that chapter in Deathly Hallows when this is said:

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains that he can move faster than Severus Snape when confronted with shampoo." --Fred Weasley

Petition to get Snape some shampoo... and some conditioner to be on the safe side XD

Soo idk what to call this type of fanfic but..here it is

Percy and his brother Fred appeared in Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s sight. They were fighting hooded men. Flashes of colored light illuminated the now dark and gloomy hall of Hogwarts. As the person who was fighting Percy retreated quickly, their hood fell down. All of them saw the certain large forehead and pepper hair that only belonged to one person in particular, Pius Thicknesse. The current minister of the Ministry of Magic. Percy shouted out the minster,“Hello minister!” Percy casted a jinx at Thicknesse. Thicknesse dropped his wand instantly, he was clearly in no fit state to fight and was highly uncomfortable, “Did I mention I’m resigning?”

Fred was flabbergasted, Percy? The pompous, uptight, strict, bossy Percy making a joke? He was ecstatic to say the least“You actually are joking, Perce!” Fred hollered to his brother as the death eater he was fighting collapsed, a cloaked heap on the broken stones that made up the floor. “I don’t think I’ve heard you joke since you were-”It all happened so fast that Harry, Ron, and Hermione couldn't process it. All that Harry saw in that split second was Percy pushing Fred out of the way. Why? Harry thought but he shortly knew the answer afterwards. There was a large BANG that pierced through Harry’s ears making him temporarily deaf. Pieces of rock littered the air, the wall exploded. Harry shielded his head with his arms, he didn’t know where the others were or if they were ok.

Cold air now drifted into the wreckage of a corridor. He felt a sharp stone scrape against his forehead leaving a small but long wound. Warm blood was trickling down his forehead but he didnt care at that moment, All he could hear was griefing screams. No no no no no! One of them CAN'T be dead…..right? Harry thought desperately. He climbed out of the wreckage and made it over to the source of the noise, Fred was screaming desperately shaking a certain redheaded man. Harry's breath caught in his throat, the words Fred was saying were,

“NO YOU CAN'T BE DEAD. PLEASE BROTHER DON'T LEAVE ME, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!” Harry felt his stomach twist….Could the dead person be Ron? His best friend for 7 years??, he came closer to the body..He could now identify that it was not ron…which left one Weasley brother that was fighting alongside them..Percy, Percy had saved Fred at the cost of his own life. Ron was crouching beside his dead brother. Percy's eyes were dull and plain. His mouth twisted in a small smile…that only brotherly love could cause.

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this contains spoilers for deathly hallows, you have been warned

Btw venucia potter is me

Rin.or.ruhi is her, and also it's her fandom username as well

Don't mind if it ain't funny our sense of humour is broken lol

~

No.1:

Explaining the Battle of Hogwarts

No.2

Mourning Dobby's death

No.3

However you wanna describe this lil memo...

No.4

Aberforth and Albus

~

Yep that's it for now ig!

First half of book:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003829962

Previous Chapters:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003833123

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003838588

Tags:

@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972 @Interested.me

Chapter Twenty-One: The Deathly Hallows

Harry fell, panting, onto grass and scrambled up at once. They seemed to have landed in the corner of a field at dusk; Theodore was already running in a circle around them, waving his wand, while Tracey kneeled behind Allison whose femur was bent at an unnatural way.

‘Cave Inimicum…Protego Totalum…’ Theodore chanted.

‘Brackium Emendo!’ Tracey cried in distress, and despite Harry looking away in time he could still hear the horrible crack of Allison’s bone whipping back to normal. Allison screamed, but the fresh pain seemed to have brought her back to her senses. Tracey whispered soothing words as she reached into her purse and pulled out the bottle of Restorative Draught. ‘It’s okay, you’re going to be ok, drink some of this.’

‘…Salvio Hexia…Muffliato!’

‘That lying bloody traitor,’ Allison managed as she finished shallow a swig of the draught. ‘Also thank you Theodore for getting us out of there and thank you Trace for healing me up.’

‘You’re thanking me? Without you pushing me out of the way I probably would have ripped apart by Erumpent shrapnel,’ said Tracey with tears in her eyes. ‘I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you, I’m glad you’re back with us.’

And then they hugged. Theodore just stared at them while Harry couldn’t believe it took all four of them nearly dying for the girls to finally make up.

‘Um,’ Theodore awkwardly, ‘I’d hate to break this apology up, but can we focus on what just happened?’

Right, sorry,’ said Allison as she and Tracey broke apart and she sat up.

‘So…Mr Lovegood’s house exploded…’ said Harry, as that was the only thing he could think at the moment.

‘Well, I did warn him about that horn, and maybe he got what he deserved,’ huffed Tracey, but then her expression softened. ‘What do you think will happen to him?’

‘It’s hard to say,’ said Theodore, ‘probably nothing good, but I don’t think they’ll kill him. At least I hope not.’

‘So why not just Apparate us out of there immediately, why erase his memory and collapse the floor?’ asked Allison as she rubbed her freshly healed leg.

‘Because I wanted to give him the best chance at fewest consequences as possible,’ answered Theodore. ‘The Death Eaters should have been able to see Harry before we Disapparated, so they’ll know he wasn’t lying.’

‘Alright, so we probably saved Mr Lovegood, but what about Luna?’ asked Harry.

‘Well, I don’t think the Death Eaters will keep their word about returning her, especially since they didn’t actually get to capture Harry,’ said Theodore, ‘but assuming they haven’t already killed her—‘

‘Theo don’t you dare even imply that,’ said Allison in a tone that almost sounded like she was about to spit acid. ‘Luna is alive, she has to be.’

‘—then she’s probably locked up in Azkaban,’ Theodore finished carefully.

‘Oh Luna, will she even be ok in there?’ said Tracey in a near sob.

‘She will,’ said Harry. He could not bear to contemplate the

alternative. ‘She’s tough, Luna, much tougher than you’d think. She’s probably teaching all the inmates about Wrackspurts and Nargles.’

‘Yeah-yeah, you’re probably right,’ said Allison, trying to sound relieved.

‘And poor Mr Lovegood, all that he’s been through and about to go through,’ said Tracey.

‘I’d feel more sorry for him if he hadn’t sold us out to Death Eaters,’ mumbled Allison.

They put up the tent and retreated inside it, where Tracey made them tea. After their narrow escape, the chilly, musty old place felt like home: safe, familiar, and friendly.

‘I’m so sorry everyone,’ groaned Theodore after a few minutes of silence. ‘We should have never went there. Harry was right, it was Godric’s Hollow all over again, a waste of time and we almost got killed again! All for what, “The Deathly Hallows”…they probably were made up by Xenophilius on the spot just to keep us from leaving…’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ said Harry. ‘It is much harder to make up a complete lie while under pressure, it’s easier to make up a lie based on truth.’

‘That’s true,’ said Allison. ‘Like last year when I was lying to Borgin to learn information about Malfoy, I could have made up a whole fake identity but I thought in the moment that still saying I was Albert Runcorn’s daughter would give me an advantage. It didn’t work then but it did when I was caught by Snatchers. So yeah, Mr Lovegood probably meant what he said.’

‘Just because someone means what they say doesn’t make it true however,’ said Theodore. ‘I have read many history books, including from the time period in question and I have never heard of the Deathly Hallows until today.’

‘I’d hate to sound like Mr Lovegood, but that technically isn’t proof they don’t exist,’ said Tracey, a little sheepishly. ‘The Chamber of Secrets was believed to be fiction, but in the end it turned out to be real.’

‘But there were bread crumbs that suggested the Chamber was real Tracey, but the Deathly Hallows appear to be nothing more than a children’s story,’ Theodore countered.

‘There are bread crumbs here to Theo,’ said Allison defensively. ‘I am not sure if they’re real either, but we already know Harry has a pretty unique Cloak of Invisibility, and then there’s the w—‘

‘The Tale of the Three Brothers is a children’s story about the age old question can man beat death,’ said Theodore firmly. ‘There is nothing more to it.’

‘I don’t know. We could do with an unbeatable wand,’ said Harry, turning the sycamore wand he so disliked over in his fingers.

‘I’m sorry Harry, but it doesn’t exist.’

‘You said yourself that there have been loads of wands—the Deathstick and whatever they were called—‘

‘I also said there owners were just egotistical braggers, and that wands don’t amplify power,’ said Theodore, he then crossed his arms. ‘Listen, even if the Cloak of Invisibility and Elder Wand are real, what about the Resurrection stone? There are no old stories about it throughout history, and that’s because no magic can bring back the dead.’

‘When my wand connected with You-Know-Who’s, it made my mum and dad appear...and Cedric...they even talked to me.’

‘Harry, you told us that Dumbledore explained to you that those were more like echos. The essence, thoughts, and feelings the deceased had leading up to the moment of their death, but it wasn’t truest them,’ said Theodore while trying his best to be sensitive. ‘Not like flesh and blood, they aren’t even there to the extent ghosts are. It’s just not the same as bringing them back to life.’

‘But she, the woman in the tale, didn’t really come back, did she? The story says that once people are dead, they belong with the dead. But the second brother still got to see her and talk to her, didn’t he? He even lived with her for a while…’

He saw concern and something less easily definable in Theodore’s expression. Then, as he glanced at Allison and Tracey, Harry realized that it was fear: He had scared him with his talk of living with dead people.

‘So that Peverell bloke who’s buried in Godric’s Hollow,’ he said hastily, trying to sound robustly sane, ‘you don’t know anything about him, then?’

‘Not Ignotus Peverell specifically, but growing up my father would tell me stories about our family lineage and other Pure-blood families we’re connected to, and he would also tell me about other Pure-blood families that died out as a way to try and make sure I’d eventually get married to a Pure-blood and have kids,’ explained Theodore. ‘The Peverell’s are one of the Pure-blood families he mentioned that died out a long time ago in the male line.’

‘In the male line?’ repeated Harry.

‘Right, sorry, it’s more stupid blood supremest ideology,’ explained Theodore. ‘You’re expected to try and pass down your Pure-blood status and your surname to your children, that’s why Pure-bloods are so obsessed with having sons. It’s just as crazy as their other ideals though, daughters can still pass down their Blood-status, even their name if they want to. Just because the Peverell surname isn’t used any more doesn’t mean there are no descendants of the family.’

And then it came to Harry in one shining piece, the memory that had stirred at the sound of the name ‘Peverell’: a filthy old man brandishing an ugly ring in the face of a Ministry official, and he cried aloud, ‘Marvolo Gaunt!’

‘Sorry,’ said his three friends together.

‘Marvolo Gaunt! You-Know-Who’s grandfather! In the Pensieve! With Dumbledore! Marvolo Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverells!’

All three still looked bewildered.

‘The ring, the ring that became the Horcrux, Marvolo Gaunt said it had the Peverell coat of arms on it! I saw him waving it in the bloke from the Ministry’s face, he nearly shoved it up his nose!’

‘What did the Peverall coat of arms look like?’ asked Allison.

‘Not sure,’ said Harry, trying to remember. ‘There was nothing fancy on there, as far as I could see; maybe a few scratches. I only ever saw it really close up after it had been cracked open.’

Harry saw Theodore’s comprehension in the sudden widening of his eyes. Allison and Tracey were looking from one to the other, astonished.

‘Do…do you think it was the sign again?’ asked Tracey. ‘The sign Mr Lovegood says is for the Deathly Hallows?’

‘Why not,’ said Harry excitedly, ‘Marvolo Gaunt was an ignorant old git who lived like a pig, all he cared about was his ancestry. If that ring had been passed down through the centuries, he might not have known what it really was. There were no books in that house, and trust me, he wasn’t the type to read fairy tales to his kids. He’d have loved to think the scratches on the stone were a coat of arms, because as far as he was concerned, having pure blood made you practically royal.’

‘Alright, it is probably likely he was a descendant of the Peveralls, and I will admit it is possible that the ring had the symbol on it,’ said Theodore very cautiously, we wasn’t taking his eyes off Harry, ‘but you better not be implying what I think you’re implying…’

‘Well, why not? Why not?’ said Harry, abandoning caution. ‘It was a stone, wasn’t it?’ He looked at Allison for support. ‘What

if it was the Resurrection Stone?’

Tracey’s mouth fell open, but Allison maintained her stoic demeanour.

‘I don’t know Harry, that’s a big leap to make,’ she said slowly, ‘and even if it was, do you think it would even still work after being broken by Dumbledore?’

‘Allison, what do you mean “would even still work”?’ said Theodore angrily. ‘It never existed in the first place. There has never in our history something known as the Resurrection Stone!’

Theodore leapt to his feet, looking exasperated and that his anger was boiling to the surface.

‘Harry, you are desperate to make progress in our mission so you are making connections where there aren’t any!’

‘No connections?’ he repeated. ‘Theodore, it all connects on its own accord! I know the sign of the Deathly Hallows was on that stone!

Gaunt said he was descended from the Peverells!’

‘What are you even saying? A second ago you admitted you never got a good look at the stone or what was engraved in it!’

‘Slight change in topic,’ said Tracey, trying to interject. ‘Harry where do you believe the ring is now? Do you know what Dumbledore did with it after destroying the Horcrux inside it?’

But Harry’s imagination was racing ahead, far beyond those of his three friends…

Three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death...Master...Conqueror...Vanquisher...The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death...

And he saw himself, possessor of the Hallows, facing Voldemort, whose Horcruxes were no match…Neither can live while the other survives…Was this the answer? Hallows versus Horcruxes? Was there a way after all, to ensure that he was the one who triumphed? If he were the master of the Deathly Hallows, would he be safe?

‘Harry?’

But he scarcely heard Tracey: He had pulled out his Invisibility Cloak from her purse and was running it through his fingers, the cloth supple as water, light as air. He had never seen anything to equal it in all his seventeen years. The Cloak was exactly what Xenophilius had described: A cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it...

And then, with a gasp, he remembered—

‘Dumbledore had my Cloak the night my parents died!’

His voice shook and he could feel the colour in his face, but he did not care.

‘My mum told Sirius that Dumbledore borrowed the Cloak! This is why! He wanted to examine it, because he thought it was the third Hallow! Ignotus Peverell is buried in Godric’s Hollow…’ Harry was walking blindly around the tent, feeling as though great new vistas of truth were opening all around him. ‘He’s my ancestor. I’m descended from the third brother! It all makes sense!’

He felt armed in certainty, in his belief in the Hallows, as if the mere idea of possessing them was giving him protection, and he felt joyous as he turned back to the other three.

‘Harry,’ said Allison this time, but he was busy undoing the pouch around his neck, his fingers shaking hard. ‘Read it,’ he told Theodore, pushing his mother’s letter into his hand. ‘Read it! Dumbledore had the Cloak, Theodore! Why else would he want it? He didn’t need a Cloak, he could perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful that he made himself completely invisible without one!’

Something fell to the floor and rolled, glittering, under a chair: He had dislodged the Snitch when he pulled out the letter. He stooped to pick it up, and then the newly tapped spring of fabulous discoveries threw him another gift, and shock and wonder erupted inside him so that he shouted out.

‘IT’S IN HERE! He left me the ring—it’s in the Snitch!’

‘Are-are you sure?’ said Allison, seemingly less certain on where she stood on this manner.

He could not understand why she and the others looked taken aback. It was so obvious, so clear to Harry. Everything fit, everything…His Cloak was the third Hallow, and when he discovered how to open the Snitch he would have the second, and then all he needed to do was find the first Hallow, the Elder Wand, and then—

But it was as though a curtain fell on a lit stage: All his excitement, all his hope and happiness were extinguished at a stroke, and he stood alone in the darkness, and the glorious spell was broken.

‘That’s what he’s after.’

The change in his voice made Theodore, Allison, and Tracey look even more scared.

‘You-Know-Who’s after the Elder Wand.’

He turned his back on their strained, incredulous faces. He knew it was the truth. It all made sense, Voldemort was not seeking a new wand; he was seeking an old wand, a very old wand indeed. Harry walked to the entrance of the tent, forgetting about his friends as he looked out into the night, thinking…

Voldemort had been raised in a Muggle orphanage. Nobody could have told him The Tales of Beedle the Bard when he was a child. Hardly any wizards believed in the Deathly Hallows. Was it likely that Voldemort knew about them? Harry gazed into the darkness...If Voldemort had known about the Deathly Hallows, surely he would have sought them, done anything to possess them: three objects that made the possessor master of Death? If he had known about the Deathly Hallows, he might not have needed Horcruxes in the first place. Didn’t the simple fact that he had taken a Hallow, and turned it into a Horcrux, demonstrate that he did not know this last great Wizarding secret?

Which meant that Voldemort sought the Elder Wand without realizing its full power, without understanding that it was one of three...for the wand was the Hallow that could not be hidden, whose existence was best known...The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history…

Harry watched the cloudy sky, curves of smoke-gray and silver sliding over the face of the white moon. He felt lightheaded with amazement at his discoveries.

He turned back into the tent. It was a shock to see all three of them standing exactly where he had left them, Theodore still holding Lily’s letter, Allison and Tracey at his side looking slightly anxious. Didn’t they realize how far they had traveled in the last few minutes?

‘This is it?’ Harry said, trying to bring them inside the glow of his own astonished certainty, ‘This explains everything. The Deathly Hallows are real and I’ve got one—maybe two—‘

He held up the Snitch.

‘—and You-Know-Who’s chasing the third, but he doesn’t realize...he just thinks it’s a powerful wand—‘

‘Harry,’ said Theodore in a softer tone, moving across to him and handing him back Lily’s letter, ‘I know this means a lot to you, but I think you are wrong.’

‘But don’t you see? It all fits—‘

‘I’m sorry Harry, but it doesn’t,’ he said. ‘You’re excited and that’s ok, but it’s leading you to wrong conclusions.’

He took a breath before speaking again.

‘Think of it this way,’ said Theodore, ‘if the Deathly Hallows are real, and Dumbledore has known about them for at least sixteen years, and subsequently knew that the person who had all three of them at the same time was considered master of Death, why wouldn’t he tell you?’

Harry had his answer ready.

‘Because of what the three of us discussed before going to Godric’s Hollow. He wants us to discover these things for ourselves. It’s a Quest!’

‘Harry, we only said those things to try and convince ourselves going to Godric’s was worth it, but it almost got us killed. We had to convince ourselves again to go to Mr Lovegood’s home and we all almost died a second time,’ said Tracey, this was some of the most serious he had ever seen her. ‘We don’t actually know what Dumbledore wanted beyond what he actually said to us and you.’

Harry took no notice.

‘Dumbledore usually let me find out stuff for myself. He let me try my strength, take risks. This feels like the kind of thing he’d do.’

‘Harry!’ snapped Allison suddenly, ‘this isn’t a puzzle, this is war, we don’t have time to figure out if the Hallows are worth finding or not! What we do need to find is the last three Horcruxes, that is what Dumbledore actually wanted us to find! More people die the longer it takes us to destroy them!’

Harry was barely listening to her. He was turning the Snitch over and over in his hands, half expecting it to break open, to reveal the Resurrection Stone, to prove to them all that he was right, that the Deathly Hallows were real.

Theodore and Allison turned to Tracey for support. And she nodded.

‘Look Harry, if the Deathly Hallows mean so much to you then when we’ve found and destroyed all the Horcruxes and the war is finished I will happily help you look for them,’ expressed Tracey. ‘For now though, Theodore and Allison are right, the Horcruxes must be our priority. You need to forget about the hallows for now so we can focus on the task at hand.’

‘Thanks,’ Theodore whispered.

‘You’re welcome, I’ll take first watch.’

And she strode past Harry and sat down in the tent entrance bringing the action to a fierce full stop. But Harry hardly slept that night. The idea of the Deathly Hallows had taken possession of him, and he could not rest while agitating thoughts whirled through his mind: the wand, the stone, and the Cloak, if he could just possess them all…I open at the close...But what was the close? Why couldn’t he have the stone now? If only he had the stone, he could ask Dumbledore these questions in person…and Harry murmured words to the Snitch in the darkness, trying everything, even Parseltongue, but the golden ball would not open…

And the wand, the Elder Wand, where was that hidden? Where was Voldemort searching now? Harry wished his scar would burn and show him Voldemort’s thoughts, because for the first time ever, he and Voldemort were united in wanting the very same thing...the others would not like that idea, of course...But then, they did not believe...Xenophilius had been right, about Tracey, Theodore, and even Allison…Limited, Narrow, Close-minded. The truth was that they was scared of the idea of the Deathly Hallows, especially of the Resurrection Stone…and Harry pressed his mouth again to the Snitch, kissing it, nearly swallowing it, but the cold medal did not yield...

It was nearly dawn when he remembered Luna, alone in a cell in Azkaban, surrounded by dementors, and he suddenly felt ashamed of himself. He had forgotten all about her in his feverish contemplation of the Hallows. If only they could rescue her, but dementors in those numbers would be virtually unassailable. Now he came to think about it, he had not tried casting a Patronus with the sycamore wand…He must try that in the morning…

If only there was a way of getting a better wand…And desire for the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, unbeatable, invincible, swallowed him once more…

They packed up the tent next morning and moved on through a dreary shower of rain. The downpour pursued them to the coast, where they pitched the tent that night, and persisted through the whole week, through sodden landscapes that Harry found bleak and depressing. He could think only of the Deathly Hallows. It was as though a flame had been lit inside him that nothing, not Theodore’s flat disbelief nor Tracey and Allison’s persistent doubts, could extinguish. And yet the fiercer the longing for the Hallows burned inside him, the less joyful it made him. He blamed the others: Their determined indifference was as bad as the relentless rain for dampening his spirits, but neither could erode his certainty, which remained absolute. Harry’s belief in and longing for the Hallows consumed him so much that he felt isolated from the other three and their obsession with the Horcruxes.

‘Obsession?’ said Tracey in a low fierce voice, when Harry was careless enough to use the word one evening, after she had told him off for his lack of interest in locating more Horcruxes.

‘Harry, it is our job to find the Horcruxes, it’s not a choice,’ she protested. ‘The rest of us aren’t the ones obsessed with something.’

But he was impervious to the veiled criticism. Dumbledore had left the sign of the Hallows for Theodore to decipher, and he had also, Harry remained convinced of it, left the Resurrection Stone hidden in the golden Snitch. Neither can live while the other survives…master of Death…Why didn’t the other three understand?

‘“The last enemy shall be destroyed is death,”’ Harry quoted calmly.

‘Maybe, but for now it is You-Know-Who that we have to put all our efforts into defeating,’ Tracey retorted, and Harry gave up on her.

Even the mystery of the silver doe, which the other three insisted on discussing, seemed less important to Harry now, a vaguely interesting sideshow. The only other thing that mattered to him was that his scar had begun to prickle again, although he did all he could to hide this fact from the other two. He sought solitude whenever it happened, but was disappointed by what he saw. The visions he and Voldemort were sharing had changed in quality; they had become blurred, shifting as though they were moving in and out of focus. Harry was just able to make out the indistinct features of an object that looked like a skull, and something like a mountain that was more shadow than substance. Used to images sharp as reality, Harry was disconcerted by the change.

He was worried that the connection between himself and Voldemort had been damaged, a connection that he both feared and, whatever he had told Tracey, prized. Somehow Harry connected these unsatisfying, vague images with the destruction of his wand, as if it was the sycamore wand’s fault that he could no longer see into Voldemort’s mind as well as before.

As the months crept on, Harry could not help but notice, even through his new self-absorption, that Allison seemed to be taking charge. Perhaps because she was determined to make up for having walked out on them, perhaps because Harry’s descent into listlessness galvanized her leadership qualities, Allison was the one now encouraging and exhorting the other three into action.

‘We’ve got three Horcruxes left,’ she kept saying. ‘We have to come up with a plan on what we’re going to do. With Potterwatch upping their security on how to listen in we’re going to need to use the info we already have. What are places with significance to him that we haven’t thoroughly checked already? The orphanage…’

Diagon Alley, Hogwarts, the Riddle House, Borgin and Burkes, Albania, every place that they knew Tom Riddle had ever lived or worked, visited or murdered, Allison, Tracey, and Theodore raked over them again, Harry joining in only to stop Theodore pestering him. He would have been happy to sit alone in silence, trying to read Voldemort’s thoughts, to find out more about the Elder Wand, but Allison insisted on journeying to ever more unlikely places simply, Harry was aware, to keep them moving.

‘We might have to try everywhere,’ said Allison in a way that somehow made it sound like a good idea. ‘Tutshill has a large magical community, it’s possible there might be information we need there. We should travel there next and look around.’

These frequent forays into Wizarding territory brought them within occasional sight of Snatchers.

‘Supposedly some of their higher ranks are just as bad as Death Eaters,’ said Allison. ‘Of course the group I ran into when I left weren’t the brightest. Still, if Fenrir Greyback is one of their leaders I don’t think we should relax when they’re around.’

Just hearing that name made Harry’s blood boil. All the pain and suffering he had caused Remus, Canini, and hundreds of other children and their parents.

‘How do you know he’s a Snatcher?’ Harry asked in a grumble.

‘It was reported on the last Potterwatch I managed to tune into,’ she explained. ‘It’s so frustrating that I haven’t been able to listen to any in months. After Kingsley just barely escaping capture and what happened to the also Potter friendly Quibbler they must be changing broadcast locations and frequencies as well as their normal changing passwords and air time.’

Allison spent evening after evening using her wand to beat out various rhythms on top of the wireless while the dials whirled. Occasionally they would catch snatches of advice on how to treat dragonpox, and once a few bars of ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love.’ While he taped, Allison continued to try to hit on the correct password, muttering strings of random words and names under her breath.

‘I’m worried they stopped using Order names as passwords,’ she told them. ‘Because if they have then the password could be anything…’

But not until halfway through the second week in April did luck favour Allison at last. Harry was sitting in the tent entrance, on guard duty, staring idly at a clump of grape hyacinths that had forced their way through the chilly ground, when Allison shouted excitedly from inside the tent.

‘I’ve got it! I found the password! It was “Albus”! Everyone get over here!’

Roused for the first time in days from his contemplation of the Deathly Hallows, Harry hurried back inside the tent to find Allison, Theodore, and Tracey kneeling on the floor beside the little radio. It was so nice to hear familiar friendly voices.

‘…apologize for our temporary absence from the airwaves, which was due to a number of house calls in our area by those charming Death Eaters,’ said Lee Jordan. ‘We also had to find a spot with as little magic as possible to protect Rangefinder from the trace.’

‘Trace or no trace, you can trust that I’ll always be here to share the truth,’ said Colin proudly.

‘Correct, that’s why we’ve found ourselves another secure location,’ continued Lee, ‘and I’m pleased to tell you listeners that two more of our regular contributors have joined me here this evening. Evening, boys!’

‘Hi.’

‘Evening, River.’

‘But before we hear from Royal and Romulus,’ Lee went on, ‘let’s take a moment to report those deaths that the Wizarding Wireless Network News and Daily Prophet don’t think important enough to mention. It is with great regret that we inform our listeners of the murders of Ted Tonks and Dirk Cresswell.’

Harry felt a sick, swooping in his belly. Theodore gasped. Harry’s heart felt as though it would stop. His uncle Ted…dead? Tracey gazed at the two brothers with great sadness, Allison took Harry’s hand into hers.

‘A goblin by the name of Gornuk was also killed. It is believed that Muggle-born Dean Thomas and a second goblin, both believed to have been traveling with Tonks, Cresswell, and Gornuk, may have escaped. If Dean is listening, or if anyone has any knowledge of his whereabouts, his parents and sisters are desperate for news.’

Colin then took over, ‘We have also sadly learned that a Muggle family of five in Gaddley have all been found dead in their home. Local Muggle law enforcement are attributing their deaths to a gas leak, but a member of the Order of the Phoenix has informed us that their deaths were actually caused by the Killing Curse. This is just more sickening evidence that those currently in power view Muggle lives as worthless, and killing them as sport.’

‘Finally,’ continued Lee, ‘we regret to inform our listeners that the remains of Bathilda Bagshot have been discovered in Godric’s Hollow. The evidence is that she died several months ago. The Order of the Phoenix informs us that her body showed unmistakable signs of injuries inflicted by Dark Magic. Listeners, I’d like to invite you now to join us in a minute’s silence in memory of Ted Tonks, Dirk Cresswell, Bathilda Bagshot, Gornuk, and the unnamed, but no less regretted, Muggles murdered by the Death Eaters.’

Silence fell, and Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey did not speak. Half of Harry yearned to hear more, half of him was afraid of what might come next. He still was in shock that his uncle who he had known most of his life, his aunt Andromeda’s beloved husband, and Tonks’ dad, was dead. Allison continued to squeeze his hand for support, and while he didn’t say anything, he greatly appreciated it. This broadcast was filled with mixed emotions, as while it had told him such terrible news, it was still the first time he had felt fully connected to the outside world for a long time.

‘Thank you,’ said Lee’s voice. ‘And now we can return to regular contributor Royal, for an update on how the new Wizarding order is affecting the Muggle world.’

‘Thanks, River,’ said the deep, measured, reassuring voice of Kingsley.

‘Muggles remain ignorant of the source of their suffering as they continue to sustain heavy casualties,’ said Kingsley. ‘However, we continue to hear truly inspirational stories of wizards and witches risking their own safety to protect Muggle friends and neighbours, often without the Muggles’ knowledge. I’d like to appeal to all our listeners to emulate their example, perhaps by casting a protective charm over any Muggle dwellings in your street. Many lives could be saved if such simple measures are taken.’

‘And what would you say, Royal, to those listeners who reply that in these dangerous times, it should be “Wizards first”?’ asked Lee.

‘I’d say that it’s one short step from “Wizards first” to “Pure-bloods first,” and then to “Death Eaters,”’ replied Kingsley. ‘We’re all human, aren’t we? Every human life is worth the same, and worth saving.’

‘Excellently put, Royal, and you’ve got my vote for Minister of Magic if we ever get out of this mess,’ said Lee. ‘And now, over to Romulus for our new popular feature “Pals of Potter.”’

‘Thanks, River,’ said Remus in a solemn but calm voice.

‘Romulus, do you maintain, as you have every time you’ve appeared on our program, that Harry Potter is still alive?’

‘I do,’ said Remus firmly. ‘There is no doubt at all in my mind that his death would be proclaimed as widely as possible by the Death Eaters if it had happened, because it would strike a deadly blow at the morale of those resisting the new regime. “The Boy Who Lived” remains a symbol of everything for which we are fighting: the triumph of good, the power of innocence, the need to keep resisting.’

Harry’s heavy heart was lifted somewhat. It was good to hear his father’s voice. And him sharing his confidence in Harry really made him believe he had changed since they all had seen him last at Grimmauld Place.

‘And what would you say to Harry if you knew he was listening, Romulus?’

‘I’d tell him, and all who are with him helping, that we’re all with them in spirit,’ said Remus, then hesitated slightly, ‘and I’d tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right.’

Harry looked at Theodore, whose eyes were full of tears, causing Harry’s eyes to leak a bit as well. They may have been fighting, but right now they were two brothers who both just lost their uncle and both were hearing reassuring words from their distant father.

‘All who are with him…’ Theodore muttered.

‘…and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter’s who are suffering for their allegiance?’ Lee was saying.

‘Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the more out-spoken supporters of Harry Potter have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of The Quibbler,’ said Remus.

‘Well at least we now know he’s alive,’ whispered Tracey.

‘We have also heard within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid’—all four of them gasped, and so nearly missed the rest of the sentence—‘well-known gamekeeper at Hogwarts School, has narrowly escaped arrest within the grounds of Hogwarts, where he is rumored to have hosted a “Support Harry Potter” party in his house. However, Hagrid was not taken into custody, and is, we believe, on the run.’

‘Perhaps having a sixteen-foot-high magic resistant half brother helps when you’re fleeing Death Eaters,’ suggested Colin.

‘It would tend to give you an edge,’ agreed Remus gravely. ‘May I just add that while we here at Potterwatch applaud Hagrid’s spirit, we would urge even the most devoted of Harry’s supporters against following Hagrid’s lead. “Support Harry Potter” parties are unwise in the present climate.’

‘Indeed they are, Romulus,’ said Lee, ‘so we suggest that you continue to show your devotion to the man with the lightning scar by listening to Potterwatch! And now let’s move to news concerning the wizard who is proving just as elusive as Harry Potter. We like to refer to him as the Chief Death Eater, and here to give his views on some of the more insane rumours circulating about him, I’d like to introduce a new correspondent. Rodent?’

‘“Rodent”?’ said either the voice of Fred or George.

‘I believe it’s Fred,’ said Allison, ‘because Tonks told me the twin we’ve normally been listening to for the last seven months was George.’

‘I’m not being “Rodent,” no way, I told you I wanted to be “Rapier”!’

‘Oh, all right then, “Rapier,” could you please give us your take on the various stories we’ve been hearing about the Chief Death Eater?’

‘Yes, River, I can,’ said Fred. ‘As our listeners will know, unless they’ve taken refuge at the bottom of a garden pond or somewhere similar, You-Know-Who’s strategy of remaining in the shadows is creating a nice little climate of panic. Mind you, if all the alleged sightings of him are genuine, we must have a good nineteen You-Know-Whos running around the place.’

‘Which suits him, of course,’ said Kingsley. ‘The air of mystery is creating more terror than actually showing himself.’

‘Agreed,’ said Fred. ‘So, people, let’s try and calm down a bit. Things are bad enough without inventing stuff as well. For instance, this new idea that You-Know-Who can kill people with a single glance from his eyes. That’s a basilisk, listeners. One simple test: Check whether the thing that’s glaring at you has got legs. If it has, it’s safe to look into its eyes, although if it really is You-Know-Who, that’s still likely to be the last thing you ever do.’

For the first time in weeks and weeks, Harry was laughing: He could feel the weight of tension leaving him.

‘And the rumours that he keeps being sighted abroad?’ asked Lee.

‘Well, who wouldn’t want a nice little holiday after all the hard work he’s been putting in?’ asked Fred. ‘Point is, people, don’t get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he’s out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don’t count on him being a long way away if you’re planning to take any risks. I never thought I’d hear myself say it, but safety first!’

‘Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier,’ said Lee. ‘Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don’t know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be “Mad-Eye.” Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night.’

The radio’s dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. Harry, Theodore, Allison, and Tracey were still beaming, even with tears still being in Harry and Theodore’s eyes. Hearing familiar, friendly voices was an extraordinary tonic; Harry had become so used to their isolation he had nearly forgotten that other people were resisting Voldemort. It was like waking from a long sleep.

‘You good?’ asked Allison as she slowly released Harry’s hand.

‘Brilliant,’ said Harry happily.

‘They are all so brave,’ said Theodore. ‘I’m so proud of h-them.’

‘I just hope they continue to stay safe, it sounds like they had a close call,’ said Tracey with a sigh of admiration.

‘They’re all D.A. members or former aurors, they should be ok,’ said Allison with confidence.

‘But did you hear what Fred said?’ asked Harry excitedly; now the broadcast was over, his thoughts turned around toward his all consuming obsession. ‘He’s abroad! He’s still looking for the Wand, I knew it!’

‘Harry—‘ said Theodore very cautiously.

‘Come on, Theo, why are you so determined not to admit it? Vol—‘

‘HARRY, NO!’ screamed Allison.

‘—demort’s after the Elder Wand!’

‘The name’s Taboo!’ Allison bellowed, leaping to her feet along with Tracey and Theodore as a loud crack sounded outside the tent. ‘We can’t say that name anymore—quick, everyone cast enchantments around the—‘

But Allison stopped talking, and Harry knew why. The Sneakoscope on the table had lit up and begun to spin; they could hear voices coming nearer and nearer: rough, excited voices. Allison pulled the Deluminator out of her pocket and clicked it: Their lamps went out.

‘Come out of there with your hands up!’ came a rasping and bone chillingly familiar voice through the darkness. ‘We know you’re in there! You’ve got half a dozen wands pointing at you and we don’t care who we curse!’

First half of book:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003829962

Previous Chapter:

https://harrypotter.fandom.com/f/p/4400000000003833123

Tags:

@SaphireStark @Missy Clara Oswald @CatsAndRoblox @Pervaza972

(For those that don't already know, I have just finished my four years, all classes, exams, assignments, volunteering, and internships. In a couple weeks I will now receive my Architectural Technologist diploma! I graduate in June! 👩🏻‍🎓✍️)

Chapter Twenty: The Tale of the Three Brothers

Harry turned to look at the other three. None of them seemed to have understood what Xenophilius had said either.

‘The Deathly Hallows?’

‘That’s right,’ said Xenophilius. ‘You haven’t heard of them? I’m not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young man at the wedding,’ he said referring to Krum, ‘who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows—at least, not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest.’

He stirred several lumps of sugar into his Gurdyroot infusion and drank some.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Harry. ‘I still don’t really understand.’

To be polite, he took a sip from his cup too, and almost gagged: The stuff was quite disgusting, as though someone had melted together bogey-flavored Every Flavor Beans.

‘Well, you see, believers seek the Deathly Hallows,’ said Xenophilius, smacking his lips in apparent appreciation of the Gurdyroot infusion.

‘But sir, what we’re trying to ask is what are the Deathly Hallows?’ asked Theodore. Xenophilius set aside his empty teacup.

‘I assume that you are all familiar with the “Tale of the Three Brothers”?’

Harry, Tracey, and Theodore said, ‘Yes,’ but Allison said, ‘No.’ To himself though Harry had to admit it had been many years since the last time he read it. Xenophilius nodded gravely.

‘Well, well, the whole thing starts with “The Tale of the Three Brothers”…I have a copy somewhere….’

He glanced vaguely around the room, at the piles of parchment and books, but Tracey said, ‘I’ve got a copy here, Mr Lovegood, Theo’s actually.’

And she pulled out The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the small, emerald purse and handed it to Theodore.

‘The original?’ inquired Xenophilius sharply, and when Theodore nodded, he said, ‘Well then, why don’t you read it out loud? Much the best way to make sure we all understand.’

Theodore passed the book to Allison.

‘I’ve learned to translate and read runes, but I think you’d recite it in proper tone compared to what I could do,’ explained Theodore. ‘It starts on page eighty four.’

‘Well, alright then,’ said Allison. She opened the book, and Harry saw that the symbol they were investigating headed the top of the page as she gave a little cough, and began to read. ‘“There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight—“‘

The other three got comfortable to listen to the story. Xenophilius, however, did not seem to be paying much attention, but was staring out of the window at the sky.

‘“In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them—“‘

‘I never understood that part,’ interjected Harry, ‘Death spoke to them?’

Allison shot him a look of a teacher with a trouble making student interrupting her class.

‘It’s only a fairy tale, it’s like the muggle mythological figure of Thanatos,’ explained Tracey.

‘Right, sorry. Go on Allison,’ apologized Harry.

‘“And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him. So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence: a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the older brother. Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death further still, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead. And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility”…Death had his an Invisibility Cloak?’

‘Yes,’ said Tracey, ‘I think it’s another metaphor about how most don’t see their death coming until it arrives.’

Allison nodded and then continued.

‘“Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death’s gifts. In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination. The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible. That very night, another wizard crept upon the older brother as he lay wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother’s throat. And so Death took the first brother for his own.”’

‘This is just terrible,’ whispered Theodore.

‘“Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and he turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him. Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her. And so Death took the second brother for his own. But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, as equals, they departed this life.”’

Allison closed the book and handed it back to Tracey. It was a moment or two before Xenophilius seemed to realize that she had stopped reading, then he withdrew his gaze from the window and said, ‘Well, there you are.’

‘Sorry?’ said Theodore, sounding confused.

‘Those are the Deathly Hallows,’ said Xenophilius.

He picked up a quill from a packed table at his elbow, and pulled

a torn piece of parchment from between more books.

‘The Elder Wand,’ he said, and he drew a straight vertical line upon the parchment. ‘The Resurrection Stone,’ he said, and he added a circle on top of the line. ‘The Cloak of Invisibility,’ he finished, enclosing both the line and circle in a triangle, to make the symbol that so intrigued Theodore and Harry. ‘Together,’ he said, ‘the Deathly Hallows.’

‘I’m sorry, but I’m still confused, I never translated any of the runes in that story to say Deathly Hallows. Did I miss something, Allison?’ said Theodore, to which Allison shook her head.

‘Well, of course not in the book,’ said Xenophilius, maddeningly smug. ‘That is a children’s tale, told to amuse rather than to instruct. Those of us who understand these matters, however, recognize that the ancient story refers to three objects, or Hallows, which, if united, will make the possessor master of Death.’

There was a short silence in which Xenophilius glanced out of the window. Already the sun was low in the sky.

‘Luna ought to have enough Plimpies soon,’ he said quietly.

‘When you say they make someone “master of Death”—‘ said Tracey.

‘Master,’ said Xenophilius, waving an airy hand. ‘Conqueror. Vanquisher. Whichever term you prefer.’

‘Let me try to understand,’ said Theodore slowly, and Harry could tell that he was trying to keep any trace of skepticism out of his voice, ‘are you saying you believe these items—these Hallows—actually exist?’

Xenophilius raised his eyebrows again.

‘Well, of course.’

‘But sir,’ said Tracey, and Harry could hear her restraint starting to crack like Theodore’s, ‘how could they possibly be—?’

‘Luna has told me that some of her friends are intelligent, but painfully limited. Narrow. Close-minded,’ said Mr Lovegood while looking at Tracey and Theodore. ‘That would be you two, I gather.’

Theodore looked as though he was trying to suppress his offence at being called closed-minded. He took a deep breath before speaking.

‘What we’re trying to say,’ Theodore began, ‘is that while we know a handful of Invisibility Cloaks exist, the other—‘

‘Ah, but the Third Hallows is the true Cloak of Invisibility, Mr Nott! I mean to say, it is not a traveling cloak imbued with a Disillusionment Charm, or carrying a Bedazzling Hex or else woven from Demiguise hair, which will hide one initially but fade with the years until it turns opaque. We are talking about a cloak that really and truly renders the wearer completely invisible, and endures eternally, giving constant and impenetrable concealment, no matter what spells are cast at it. How many cloaks have you ever seen like that, Mr Nott?’

Theodore opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again, looking more confused than ever. He, Harry, Tracey, and Allison glanced at one another, and Harry knew that they were all thinking the same thing. It so happened that a cloak exactly like the one Xenophilius had just described was in the room with them at that very moment.

‘Exactly,’ said Xenophilius, as if he had defeated them all in reasoned argument. ‘None of you have ever seen such a thing. The possessor would be immeasurably rich, would he not?’

He glanced out of the window again. The sky was now tinged with the faintest trace of pink.

‘Okay,’ said Theodore, disconcerted. ‘Let’s say the cloak exists…what about the other two, Mr Lovegood, like the stone?’

‘What of it?’

‘A stone that brings people back from the dead? If it existed every witch and wizard would know about it and would be fighting to possess it, so how could it possibly be real?’

‘Prove that it is not,’ said Xenophilius.

Theodore looked like he was reaching his limit for frustration.

‘T-that’s not how research, facts, or discoveries work. Just because I can’t prove it doesn’t exist doesn’t prove it does. You could say anything that’s made up is real with that logic.’

‘Yes, you could,’ said Xenophilius. ‘I am glad to see that you are opening your mind a little.’

‘So the Elder Wand,’ said Harry quickly, before Theodore could explode, ‘you think that exists too?’

‘Oh, well, in that case there is endless evidence,’ said Xenophilius. ‘The Elder Wand is the Hallow that is most easily traced, because of the way in which it passes from hand to hand.’

‘Which is what?’ asked Harry.

‘Which is that the possessor of the wand must capture it from its previous owner, if he is to be truly a master of it,’ said Xenophilius. ‘Surely you have heard of the way the wand came to Egbert the Egregious, after his slaughter of Emeric the Evil? Of how Godelot died in his own cellar after his son, Hereward, took the wand from him? Of the dreadful Loxias, who took the wand from Barnabas Deverill, whom he had killed? The bloody trail of the Elder Wand is splattered across the pages of Wizarding history.’

Harry glanced at Theodore. He was frowning at Xenophilius, but he did not contradict him.

‘If it’s so traceable, where do you believe the wand is now?’ asked Allison.

‘Alas, who knows?’ said Xenophilius, as he gazed out of the window. ‘Who knows where the Elder Wand lies hidden? The trail goes cold with Arcus and Livius. Who can say which of them really defeated Loxias, and which took the wand? And who can say who may have defeated them? History, alas, does not tell us.’

There was a pause. Finally, Theodore asked stiffly, ‘Mr Lovegood, one of the reasons we came was to ask if the Peverell family has anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?’

Xenophilius looked taken aback as something shifted in Harry’s memory, but he could not locate it. Peverell…he had heard that name before…

‘But have you been misleading me, young man!’ said Xenophilius, now sitting up much straighter in his chair and goggling at Theodore. ‘I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many of us Questers believe that the Peverells have everything—everything!—to do with the Hallows!’

‘Who are the Peverells?’ asked Allison.

‘That was the name on a grave we found in Godric’s Hollow that had the mark engraved on it,’ said Tracey, seeming to forget for the moment her no talking to Allison policy. ‘Ignorus Peverell.’

‘Exactly!’ said Xenophilius, his forefinger raised pedantically. ‘The sign of the Deathly Hallows on Ignotus’s grave is conclusive proof!’

‘Proof of what?’ asked Tracey.

‘Why, that the three brothers in the story were actually the three Peverell brothers, Antioch, Cadmus, and Ignotus! That they were the original owners of the Hallows!’

With another glance at the window he got to his feet, picked up the tray, and headed for the spiral staircase.

‘You will stay for dinner?’ he called, as he vanished downstairs again. ‘Everybody always requests our recipe for Freshwater Plimpy soup.’

‘How was Sirius friends with this man if he tried to poison him every time he visited,’ muttered Theodore under his breath to Harry.

‘He was part dog, maybe he didn’t care what he was fed,’ shrugged Harry.

Harry waited until they could hear Xenophilius moving about in the kitchen downstairs before speaking.

‘What do you think?’ he asked the group.

‘I think we’ve wasted our time,’ said Theodore. ‘Just like Viktor, Mr Lovegood must have misinterpreted what the sign really means.’

‘Which makes sense, this is the same man who thinks the Erumpent horn came from something called a Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,’ said Tracey.

‘None of you believe it?’ Harry ask. Allison looked hesitant.

‘It’s hard to Harry, I love Luna but it’s clear her father almost solely believes in things that don’t actually exist.’

‘But every story has a root of truth, doesn’t it? asked Harry.

‘Yes, but I think the truth in the Tale of the Three Brothers is the moral lesson in it, like most children’s stories have,’ said Tracey. ‘Like don’t be cocky or brag about your power to a crowd that hates you, don’t try to cheat death, be humble, stuff like that.’

‘This story is probably also the origin of the myth that wands made of Elder wood are unlucky,’ said Theodore.

‘I’m not sure I’ve heard that one,’ admitted Allison, and Harry wasn’t fully sure if he had heard it either.

‘It’s just a superstition, both the muggle world and wizarding world have them,’ said Tracey. ‘“Step on a crack and you’ll break your mother’s back”, “May-born witches will marry Muggles”, “Broken mirror brings seven years of bad luck”, “Wand of elder, never prosper”. You all must have heard of at least one of them?’

And they all mumbled in agreement. They were all left in thought for a moment as a rather pungent smell drifted up from the kitchen.

With Tracey focused on her frustration towards Mr Lovegood, Allison seemed to take it as a moment to try and get on her good side again.

(The shape is meant to be Hedwig).

I drew the Hallows symbol myself

Did you know that, ironically, the Resurrection Stone is the only Deathly Hallow not to appear in the Philosopher's Stone?

The Elder Wand Appears

The Invisibility Cloak (obviously) appears...

...but no Resurrection Stone.

But you ask: What ironic part?

Resurrection Stone. Philosophers Stone. Gedit?

So When I started Reading Hp, I flipped to the last pages of deathly hallows, and It said "Ginny Kissed Albus", and I was like OMFG PLOT TWIST

Hi everyone! I'm @LifeWasAWillow.13 but call me Willow. I have read the 7 books in the Harry Potter series, not the Fantastic Beasts books. I have read the Cursed Child book (but forgot almost everything about it). I spend most of my time on the Taylor Swift, Hunger Games, Twilight, Maze Runner, and Divergent Wiki. My favorite Harry Potter book/movie is The Deathly Hallows (part 2 for movie fav). I am excited to be a part of this wiki!

So i have a theory that all 3 of the deathly hallows have some connection with thestrals, because that would be interesting. There's not much basis for this theory, but i think it can make sense a little bit.

The first hallow is the elder wand. It obviously has a core of thestral hair, so that's that.

Second hallow is the resurrection stone. Now i thought it would be interesting if the stone was a stomach stone. Some animals have those and they help grind food. I have no idea if horses have them or if thestrals would be the kind of animal to have them. But regardless the second hallow is from a thestral, and perhaps would have been enchanted by Cadmus Peverell to function as a resurrection stone. I know in the tale, the stone was just picked up by death, but i like Dumbledore's idea that the hallows were created by the brothers themselves.

The third hallow is of course the cloak. It's unknown what the cloak is constructed from and how it's enchanted, or why it's worked without losing power for so many centuries. But other invisibility cloaks can be made from demiguise hair. That beast can of course become invisible. What if the cloak has thestral hair woven in it. It would fit with the death theme, as thestrals are invisible to those who haven't seen death.

So that's about it. What do you think of this theory?

I mean it's centuries old and then he's just gonna go *snap* and throw it into a ravine? It just rubs me the wrong way. Sort of like the way frodo left middle earth after saving the world if you know what I mean.