Butterfly Effect ; H. Potter

137. the three brothers.

Harry turned to look at Antheia, Ron, and Hermione. 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 your brother's wedding," he nodded at Ron, '"ho 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 liquidised bogey-flavoured Every-Flavour Beans.

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

"But what are the Deathly Hallows?" asked Hermione.

Xenophilius set aside his empty teacup.

"I assume that you are all familiar with 'The Tale of the Three Brothers'?"

Harry said, "No," but Antheia, Ron, and Hermione simultaneously said, "Yes."

Xenophilius nodded gravely.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter, 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 Hermione said, "I've got a copy, Mr. Lovegood, I've got it right here."

And she pulled out The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the small beaded bag.

"The original?" enquired Xenophilius sharply, and when she nodded, he said, "Well then, why don't you read it aloud? Much the best way to make sure we all understand."

"Er ... all right," said Hermione nervously. 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 travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight –'"

"Midnight, our mum always told us," said Ron, who had stretched out, arms behind his head, to listen. Hermione shot him a look of annoyance.

"Sorry, I just think it's a bit spookier if it's midnight!" said Ron.

"Because we need more fear in our lives?" said Antheia sarcastically. Xenophilius did not seem to be paying much attention, but was staring out of the window at the sky. "Keep going, Hermione."

"'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 –'"

"Sorry," interjected Harry, "but Death spoke to them?"

"Harry, it's a damn fairytale!" said Antheia.

"Right, sorry. Go on."

"'And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travellers 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.