Complete and Utter Poppycock

Chapter 16: The Tale of the Three Brothers

Chapter 16: The Tale of the Three Brothers

"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, "who attacked me for sporting the symbol of the 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."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I still don't really understand." I took a sip of the cup, which didn't taste good at all.

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

"But what are the Deathly Hallows?" asked Hermione. Xenophilius sat aside his empty teacup.

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

Harry and I said, "No," but Ron and Hermione both said, "Yes." Xenophilius nodded gravely.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter, Miss Samus, the whole thing starts with 'The Tale of 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 her beaded bag. 

"The original?" inquired Mr. Lovegood 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 handed me her beaded bag before she opened her book.

"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lovely, 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!"

"Yes, Ron, let's add a bit more fear to our lives," I said sarcastically, stopping him and wanting to hear the story. "Go ahead, 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 art, 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 way blocked by a hooded figure.

"And death spoke to them —'"

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

"Shh!" I said loudly over him, wanting Hermione to continue.

"'And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned down 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 so clever 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 oldest brother.

"'Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate Death still further and asked for the power to recall others from Death. Death picked up a stone from a riverbank and give it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.