It was Ignotus Peverell’s turn to tell his story.
“I,” he started with an amused chuckle, “being the wise one wanted an artifact that could bypass any kind of magical trap, perimeter, scrutiny, ward or anything else.”
“To achieve what I wanted,” he continued, “I crafted an invisibility cloak like no one had ever seen before.”
“And most probably,” he added, a slight pride mixed in his voice, “none like my invisibility cloak, either, will ever be seen again.”
“No magical spell, no type of magical sight, and no kind of magical perception or artifact could detect my cloak.
It could be used to bypass the most advanced wards like it is child’s play, and no person would know of it.”
“Even Death,” his voice was now serious, “had a hard time detecting its presence.”
Harry, meanwhile, was staring in awe at the three brothers.
If what they said was true, and he believed them, then he was, without any doubt, talking to the strongest wizards to ever live on the face of earth.
And it was not because they wielded the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, or the Cloak, but because they had the capability to create them.
To forge something of that proportion.
He could only imagine their might.
“The story in that book is so foolish,” Cadmus remarked, drawing Harry’s attention back to reality.
“It seems wizarding common sense has gone down the drain.”
“How so?” Harry questioned instantly.
“Start with the story itself,” Antioch picked up, “which says that Death was displeased with us.
And why?”
“Because we three brothers created a bridge to cross a river and avoided death.”
“It is such a foolish injunction,” he said.
“People have been doing that, creating bridges, crossing rivers and avoiding death, for centuries and will continue to do so forever, be it through Muggle or magical means.
What we did in the story was hardly anything worth mentioning.”
“But let us consider the river and the bridge as a metaphor for us somehow fooling Death,” he continued, “which is a great feat in itself.”
“I mean,” he said.
“You have just avoided, bypassed or fooled death.
You have achieved an extraordinary feat.
You are bound to be an intelligent man.
A genius man.”
“After my great feat,” he continued.
“I ask for a wand like no other.”
“Very well,” he said.
“I intend to alleviate my strength to another level.
Another fine step, I would say.”
“But what happens next?” He questioned with an amused smile.
“I somehow,” he answered, “suddenly turned into an ignorant child?”
“I become so naive, so foolish and so idiot, that I scream to the world about the Elder Wand.
I became an arrogant man.
And if this step of foolishness was not enough, what did I do?
I, a man capable of avoiding death and who wielded the Elder wand, somehow got careless and then let some buffoon slit my throat at midnight?”
“I mean,” he said, “this is just so laughable.”
The three brothers chuckled at this, and even Harry found the logic perfectly reasonable.
If they were cunning and powerful enough to cheat death, how could they have made such foolish decisions immediately afterward?
“Then there is my story,” Cadmus said.
Unbelievable.
Laughable.”
“I cannot complain much,” Ignotus mumbled with a smile.
“The tale at least portrayed me as wise, even if it was all wrong.”
“So,” Harry asked tentatively.
“The three objects have nothing to do with Death and the Hallows?”
Harry remembered Ignotus mentioning that his even Death had a hard time sensing the presence of the cloak.
He had an inkling that there was still more to this story.
The three brothers fell silent for a few moments.
“We never said that,” Antioch sighed, breaking the silence.
Harry was confused and ready to fire off a volley of questions, but Antioch explained himself.
“Each of the three objects we crafted,” he said, “was somehow connected or related to Death.”
“The wand, due to the Thestral hair, became more entwined with Death than we ever expected.”
“The stone could save a dying man by anchoring his soul and stopping it from crossing the Veil.”
“And,” he said.
“The invisibility cloak could hide its wearer from Death’s presence, even if it is only for a short time.”
Harry waited in anticipation.
“Death was impressed by our creations,” Ignotus picked up.
“It granted its blessings to our creations.”
“A small portion of its power to our work as rewards and made the objects more powerful than they already were.
It was only then that they truly became the Deathly Hallows.”
“If someone collects all three Hallows, will they be the Master of Death?” Harry questioned immediately.
His curiosity was gnawing at him.
“And did you all actually meet Death?” He asked further.
“I mean, how did it grant its power to the Hallows?”
“We did not meet Death,” Cadmus answered, “well, not in the sense you mean.
It simply blessed the Hallows.
And how do we know this?
We just do.”
“And no one can be the Master of Death.
Everyone must eventually cross the Veil,” he added.
“We will explain that further in the second part of our discussion.”
“Which is,” Antioch said, “why you were chosen as our heir,”.
Harry nodded in affirmation.
This was what he wanted to know the most.
Why him?
He did not think he was special.
“We lived very long lives,” Ignotus said.
“Wizards naturally have a long life, but we were exceptionally and extremely powerful, and our connection with the Hallows extended our lifespans even further,” he said.
“We saw the foundation of Hogwarts, the legendary battle between Merlin and Morgana le Fay, and many other historical events,” he continued.
“And let me correct you. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Salazar Slytherin never turned evil, nor was Morgana evil.
You will learn more about them through our inheritance.”
“Even so,” he continued, giving no chance to Harry to ask anything.
“We were finally growing old and we knew that death would eventually come for us, and we dreaded one thing.”
“Not our own deaths, but the power we would be leaving behind.
If the three Hallows fell into the wrong hands, the whole world would be turned upside down.”
Harry agreed with that sentiment.
He could only imagine what someone like Voldemort would have done with that kind of power.
“To protect the Hallows from falling in the wrong hands,” Antioch said.
“We devised a ritual and, again, with the invisible assistance of Death, sealed the true power of the Hallows.”
“They would remain strong even in their sealed state, but nowhere near their original potential,” Antioch added.
“Through that ritual, we stored our inheritance, to remain sealed until our true heir was found.”
“The one who would wield the Hallows with their true power,” he said, his voice loud and booming and echoing through the mindscape.
“And that heir, my boy, is you.
Harry Potter.”
Without giving Harry a chance to speak, Cadmus picked up the explanation.
“And why were you chosen?
Because you were deemed worthy by Magic and by Death itself,” he said.
“This was our condition.
Our requirement.
Only the person who is chosen worthy by Death and Magic itself would be able to become our heir.”
“Magic may have deemed quite a few people worthy over the centuries,” he said.
“But Death deems almost no one worthy,” Ignotus said.
“When we sealed the powers, we were almost certain that there would never be another human worthy of Death’s favor,” he added.
“But here you are,” he said, gazing directly at Harry, “chosen by Death itself.
You are a special case, my boy.”
Harry froze.
This information was too much to take in.
Deemed worthy by Magic and Death itself.
He could not think of anything he had done to warrant such a distinction.
As far as he was concerned, he had only survived this long because of luck.
“Tell us, how many times have you brushed against Death, Harry?” Antioch finally questioned.
And so began Harry’s tale.
He told the story of his life: from surviving the Killing Curse as a baby to the encounter with a troll, the battle with the Basilisk and the possessed diary, and his three near-death experiences against the Dementors.
By the end of his tale, the brothers stood solemn, stunned, and in genuine awe of the boy standing before them.
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