Al was jolted awake by John's words.
John looked at Al and said, "Will the Invisibility Cloak really give you freedom?"
Al fell into confusion.
Looking at his sister Ariana, even he was no longer certain.
The third brother in the story had been bound by the cloak for his entire life.
John raised one hand, gazing at it through his blurred vision.
"The Elder Wand representing victory and power isn't entirely accurate. If it truly granted invincibility, it wouldn't have changed hands again and again."
"The essence of magic is to give a person greater power."
Under the two boys' watchful eyes, golden flames ignited in John's palm, transforming into a golden fire dragon.
In that moment, Gael clearly realized how different John was from himself.
He was like a golden eagle, soaring through the skies, displaying his ambition.
And John… he was a fire dragon with venomous fangs, craving power strong enough to devour everything.
Ariana edged closer. She carefully reached out, and just as she was about to touch the fire dragon, it extinguished.
"Where is the place you discovered?"
John turned to Gael. Gael froze. "Didn't you say…"
"Say what you like, but I'm still quite interested in the legend of the Three Brothers," John said calmly. "Especially when someone from the legend walks into reality."
In truth, John's interest in Ignotus Peverell was largely because the man had evaded Death's pursuit.
After all, as someone who had been through it, John found it strange that Death, that petty being, hadn't grown angry or sought revenge after being avoided for so long.
Gael explained what he knew. It was a church graveyard that contained Ignotus Peverell's tomb.
"Sounds interesting enough." John shrugged. "I'm in."
His agreement made Gael shift his gaze to Al.
Al hesitated. The chance to go on a tense and exciting adventure with his good friend was naturally very tempting.
But going to a grave…
"Are you scared?" Gael knew this younger Al well, so he deliberately provoked him with ill intent.
Al was a proud Gryffindor. How could he be afraid of an adventure?
He agreed.
When night fell, they would head to the church to search for Ignotus Peverell's grave.
John felt something was off. A group of wizards switching careers to become grave robbers?
Still, they were only going to take a look. It didn't necessarily mean they would rob the grave.
Al also noticed that Ariana showed an unusual closeness toward his new friend.
It was something he had never seen before, not even with himself or his brother.
Ariana hugged her teddy bear and stayed close to John.
John could sense her emotions.
"Something like the Longbottoms, perhaps," he murmured after a moment.
The Longbottoms had been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse, leaving their minds completely shut down.
Ariana had not reached that state, but the severe trauma she had suffered had left her fragile and sensitive.
Ariana was the same age as Astoria, yet she had never gone to school.
"She likes being around you," Al said, seeing the scene, his impression of John improving.
John glanced over at that and said calmly, "You want to escape this place?"
Al fell silent for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I'm just…"
"A prodigiously talented wizard," John interrupted. Though his eyes were unfocused, they seemed to see straight through people. "Forced to stay at home because of your sister. You can't possibly be content."
With his hidden thoughts laid bare, Al grew even more silent.
Yes. The purpose of the Invisibility Cloak was to escape. But who, exactly, was trying to escape?
John's wand was suddenly grabbed. He turned toward Ariana's blurred outline and felt the fear radiating from her.
His mental magic activated, and his voice carried a soothing power.
"The night isn't something to fear."
The anxiety and fear in Ariana's heart gradually settled.
Al's eyes widened. "What did you do?"
"A bit of magic." John guided Ariana's hand with his wand and said softly, "It gives her a sense of security."
Al looked deeply at John. Ariana tightly gripped the tip of the wand.
Just like when crossing the river, it gave her reassurance.
Night soon fell, and Ariana quickly grew drowsy in the darkness.
Before eight o'clock, she had already fallen asleep.
The three of them left the house, passed along a path lined with marigolds, and headed toward the graveyard behind Godric's Hollow.
A hundred years ago, there were none of the lively entertainments of later times. What people could do was drink in the pub, or wander outside looking for somewhere to spend the night.
The village was very quiet, the moon bright and the stars sparse.
They circled around the church and arrived at the graveyard.
Wild, tangled vegetation climbed over the rusted fence. At a glance, rows of uneven tombstones formed a road of death.
Many years later, a couple would be buried here.
They would die in Godric's Hollow, their lives taken by that flash of green light, leaving behind a great magic.
The arrival of the three did nothing to disturb the graveyard's deathly silence.
Within the cemetery, they walked forward with reverence in their hearts.
"The dead cannot return," Al read from a nearby headstone. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
Seeing the name on it, Al stopped in his tracks.
Kendra Dumbledore.
Gael saw the headstone as well. The wild, unrestrained youth put away his earlier exuberance, leaving only solemn quiet as he paid his respects to the one buried there.
"Someone you know?" John asked.
Mainly because he was blind and he couldn't read what was written.
In a low voice, Al said, "It's my mother. She passed away not long ago."
A thread of sorrow flowed through their hearts.
"May she rest in peace," John said.
Death was an unavoidable end.
He drew his wand and left a bouquet of white flowers before the grave.
Al knelt halfway, his fingers gently tracing the marble headstone.
Gael stood beside him, setting aside his ambition for the moment, leaving only the sincerity of a friend.
After ten minutes, Al rose.
His mother's death had dealt him a heavy blow, while also leaving him with responsibilities he could not abandon.
As for the Invisibility Cloak, a longing began to take root in his heart.
"Let's go," Al said.
Seeing his expression, Gael understood that from beginning to end, they were the same kind of people.
Two individuals burdened by troubled fates had ultimately found their way to each other.
The two locked eyes, making John feel the urge to urge them along.
"I think we can move on," John reminded them.
The interrupted pair glanced at him.
Gael took a deep breath and said, "This way."
He led the two of them deeper into the graveyard.
At the very back, they saw a headstone.
Upon it was written the name Ignotus Peverell.
Seeing a figure from legend step into reality gave an oddly surreal feeling.
"We can find the Invisibility Cloak," Gael said seriously.
Gael had come to Godric's Hollow for the Deathly Hallows, and Ignotus's grave confirmed his suspicions.
No, you won't.
John was certain of that. The Invisibility Cloak had been passed down through the Potter family.
Having seen the grave of this legendary figure, John lost interest.
He said with little interest, "There doesn't seem to be anything particularly thrilling about this."
The excited pair were doused with cold water. Gael shot John a resentful look, already regretting bringing him along.
"Heh~" John drew his wand and lightly tapped the headstone.
"Specialis Revelio."
A pulse of magic flowed downward from the grave marker.
"I think we can head back. This is a very ordinary grave, just like its owner—humble."
Shaking his head, John put away his wand.
As expected, the Invisibility Cloak was not in the grave.
As Ignotus Peverell's descendants, the Potter family had passed the cloak down through the generations.
John tilted his head toward the sky. In his blurred vision, the moon occupied most of his view.
"At least the night is beautiful. That counts as something gained."
The two of them looked up. Gael's expression held unwilling frustration, while Al's showed regret.
The hard-won lead had come to nothing, and Gael did not doubt John's words.
This white-haired boy was full of mystery, yet somehow always convincing.
…
That night passed.
Gael seemed to change his strategy. He began frequently dragging John into the activities he shared with Al.
They discussed magic and learned from one another.
John felt that this person seemed to want something from him, perhaps the Fiendfyre.
He could not interfere too deeply with this world, yet he had somehow become Ariana's caretaker.
While Gael and Al learned from each other, looking after Ariana seemed to have become John's responsibility.
Ariana held tightly to John's wand, which helped soothe her emotions.
John simply let her keep holding it.
"Treatment, hm." John considered the possibility of using mental magic to heal Ariana.
The thought passed through his mind, only to be forcibly suppressed.
Interfering with a person would change what was meant to happen in the future, and the world itself would change.
"Ariana."
John murmured the name, his expression turning complicated.
The name felt very familiar, until Al's brother returned.
That was when the faint hope in John's heart was completely shattered.
That goat-like boy who, at a glance, clearly had a terrible temper.
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