The Legend of the Three Brothers
Sirius made breakfast. Although he wasn't good at cooking, he was skilled in magic. After ordering "Conjure a Feast" and "One Hundred Ways to Make Bread" from Flourish and Blotts, he quickly replaced Harry, who had been a child prodigy in cooking, thanks to his talent.
Queenie heard a knock on the door while she was having breakfast.
The house was enchanted with a spell of unwavering loyalty, and with both she and Sirius inside, it was obvious who was outside.
She ran to open the door for Harry, but strangely, the doorway was empty.
"Harry?" Queenie asked doubtfully, then raised her voice slightly after receiving no reply, "Harry?"
"Who is it? Has Harry arrived?" Sirius called out from the kitchen.
"No...maybe I misheard." Queenie turned to the side, and a gust of wind blew in through the half-open door, ruffling her golden hair. She didn't pay attention, closed the door, and returned to the dining table.
Queenie took a couple of bites of toast, reached for the milk, but found nothing. She looked up and saw the milk cup right in front of her. Hmm, did she just put the cup here? Wasn't it on the left?
Queenie reached out to grab it again, and just as she was about to touch the cup, the milk glass on the table moved two inches to the left out of thin air.
"...!" Was she seeing things?
Queenie moved to the left, and the cup seemed to grow legs and moved to the right.
She took a deep breath. Great, it seems someone is showing off their little tricks.
"Silis! You're teasing me again!"
"What?" Sirius came out of the kitchen carrying a large basin of marinated raw meat, a special meal he had prepared for Buckbeak. "What did I do?"
"My milk!" Queenie saw him pretending to be confused and reached for the cup again in front of him, this time the cup floated into the air. She raised her eyebrows, as if to say, "See, you still say it wasn't you."
"It really wasn't me!" Sirius was also taken aback, but he quickly realized, "The Invisibility Cloak? Harry—"
Huh? Where's Harry?
Queenie gasped suddenly as something was playing with her hair, as if an unseen ghost in the house was inviting her to play.
Queenie instinctively raised her arm sharply.
"Awooo—!"
“I’m sorry, Queenie, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Harry’s voice was muffled, which was to be expected—his nose was stuffed with a wad of tissue paper to stop the bleeding.
The table was a mess from the spilled milk, but Sirius cleaned it up with a simple spell. He then returned to Black's old house—the Order of the Phoenix had a meeting today—and reminded Harry not to forget to feed Buckbeak.
Queenie poured herself another glass of milk and, while drinking it, examined the invisibility cloak with great interest.
She was once again amazed by the wonder of magic.
It looked like an ordinary wad of silvery-white fabric, shimmering slightly, but it felt cool and soft to the touch, like water. Queenie lifted a corner and reached inside, and her hand immediately vanished, like a severed arm, its cut smooth and even, utterly eerie.
"That's really amazing, what's the principle behind it?" Oh, look at her question, magic doesn't have any principles.
“Ron said most of them are made from the fur of invisible beasts, but Hermione said that the quality of invisibility cloaks on the market is far inferior to this one. She guessed—” Harry sniffed and continued, “she guessed that maybe a particularly powerful wizard in the Potter family cast some kind of permanent spell or soaked it in some kind of magic potion. After all, this is something passed down from my father’s family. The Potter family is, after all, a pure-blood.”
Harry was feeding Buckbeak, who was under a Disillusionment Charm. Queenie could only see large chunks of raw meat disappearing into thin air, accompanied by muffled thuds of gnawing and swallowing. But if she looked closely, she could still make out blurry outlines, as if the magnetic field had been disturbed.
It seems Harry's cloak is indeed rare; even she can tell that its invisibility effect is much better than the Disillusionment Charm.
Harry's phone buzzed, and before he could check who was sending the message, a barrage of text messages came in, the buzzing continuing.
Harry took off his gloves and glanced at the sender. "It's Hermione. I asked her last night if she'd heard of the Deathly Hallows, and she said she'd have to look it up... Merlin, did she not sleep all night?" By the way, Sirius also bought cell phones for Hermione and Ron.
The nosebleed had stopped. Harry pulled out the crumpled paper and threw it away, then read the contents of the text message to Queenie.
"—I knew I must have read about 'The Elder Wand' somewhere! 'The Guide to Medieval Wizardry,' 'Wizard Relics,' 'The Origins of the Wand,' 'The Most Famous Magical Items,' 'The Development of Wizardry,' 'Major Discoveries in Modern Magic'... Do you know how late I was flipping through those books last night? Why did you have to ask me this question before bed?"
“Well, at least Hermione didn’t stay up all night.” Harry clicked on the next item.
"You've kept me up all night! I dreamt about flipping through books all night, even dreamt about the days when I was in first grade looking up 'A Study of the Development of Modern Witchcraft'!"
“Well…we were looking for any clues related to Nicolas Flamel, and Hermione did a lot of work…”
Queenie heard a familiar name. "Nicole? Wasn't he Dumbledore's friend? He just died four years ago."
"Yes, he invented the Philosopher's Stone, which can be used to make the elixir of immortality."
"Is this why he lived for over six hundred years? Unbelievable."
Harry opened the next text message.
"And yet I still have to rely on Ron!"
This sentence was all in capital letters, and then Hermione regained her temper.
"Ron called me in the morning and asked when I was going to the Burrow... Anyway, I saw a book on the bedside table—you may have forgotten, Ron mentioned its name before—and I bought a copy to read later."
—“The Tales of Beedle the Bard! It’s like the Grimm’s Fairy Tales for wizards, and one of the stories is about Death and his three brothers.”
The next one was a photo sent by Hermione.
"I took a picture for you. Although it doesn't explicitly mention 'Deathly Hallows,' it clearly says 'The Elder Wand.' I think that should be it, which means there are three Deathly Hallows."
"If this is true, if it really is true, then Harry, think about your Invisibility Cloak—not a woven fabric of Invisibility Beast fur, not an ordinary cloak soaked in Illusionist Charms, not the kind of garment that fades over the years until it is no longer transparent—a real Invisibility Cloak."
"You might be a descendant of the third of the three brothers!"
"Oh Merlin, I really doubt whether Ron has the blood of a prophet. But I can't understand it, it's just a fairy tale."
"—Besides, it's been five years. If you've ever seriously flipped through 'A History of Magic' even once, or carefully read the annual book lists, you should know that Bathilda is its author!"
"I need to catch up on my sleep now, no need to reply."
“Hermione types really fast,” Queenie commented honestly, then reassured him, “It’s okay, Harry. I don’t know who wrote the chemistry textbook either, that’s normal.”
"Um……"
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