A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Newt Scamander had spent his life advocating for the protection of magical creatures.

He believed wizards had a duty not only to safeguard magical beasts but also to coexist peacefully with intelligent species categorized as "beings."

His entire life was dedicated to this cause.

William couldn't help but feel admiration for someone with such dreams and devotion to their cause.

After a moment's hesitation, William recounted what he had witnessed beneath the Black Lake.

Newt, an expert in this field, might have the answers to his questions.

"I've seen something similar to the ritual you saw in the merfolk village," Newt began.

"It's not exclusive to merfolk. Nearly all intelligent species engage in rituals.

"Humans, too, performed rituals in ancient times, often to gain power, which led to the emergence of the first great sorcerers.

"These sorcerers were the precursors to some of today's wizards."

"Some of them?" William caught the nuance in Newt's phrasing.

"That's right. Not all wizarding power originates from rituals," Newt admitted after a pause. 

"Child, this isn't my area of expertise. Professor Dumbledore would be better equipped to discuss this."

It was clear Newt was reluctant to delve further into the topic.

"Through precise magical steps, rituals open portals to special realms," he explained.

"The unseen forces residing there, much like humans, exist in various forms—some benevolent, others malevolent.

"Powers of light that can heal, protect, and explore the universe, while the powers of dark that can bring destruction and chaos.

"If the ritual is performed correctly, these intangible powers respond to the practitioner's plea and manifest in the world, granting immense power.

"But such power comes at a cost. Light forces require prayers and praise, while dark forces demand blood or even lives."

"So... who were the merfolk worshipping?" William asked.

"I believe it was the siren, the original mermaid," Newt mused. "You must have seen the statue, correct?"

William and Hermione both nodded quickly.

"That statue represents the legendary siren. I've encountered similar statues in merfolk communities all over the world."

"The siren? Isn't that just a myth?" Hermione asked skeptically. "Muggles have legends about sirens too."

"A myth?" Newt shrugged. "Child, I wouldn't be so sure."

"Take the Himalayas, for instance. Muggles there frequently report sightings of the Yeti. Similarly, stories of the Loch Ness Monster circulate widely among Muggles.

"To them, these creatures are mere legends, but to us wizards, the Yeti and the Kelpie are well-documented magical creatures.

"They enjoy showing off and deliberately attracting Muggle attention."

"But... that's different."

"Not so different. Wizards themselves are like myths to Muggles—stories of Merlin and King Arthur, for example."

Newt turned his gaze toward the sea of clouds.

"Many stories evolve from truth. Over time, as they're passed down, they become distorted, exaggerated, or blended with other tales.

"But that doesn't mean they're entirely fictional."

William raised an eyebrow. Dumbledore had expressed similar sentiments before.

"Do you have any evidence?" Hermione asked, still doubtful.

Newt chuckled. "Over the years, I've traveled the world, encountering countless magical creatures and collecting a wealth of firsthand data.

"Even if you were interested, it would take me a full school year to explain it all to you."

"We'd be delighted to take your Care of Magical Creatures class," William chuckled.

"Spare me, child. I'm retired. Besides, Professor Kettleburn is an excellent teacher."

As Newt grew more comfortable with the group, he became more talkative.

"Here's something simple to consider: every merfolk, no matter where they are, knows the siren's name.

"Even isolated tribes, confined to the same lake for thousands of years, recognize her. Isn't that fascinating?"

William and Hermione listened intently.

Newt continued, "In my research, I've also uncovered something interesting.

"All merfolk hold a deep belief in a distant island out at sea, home to the siren who sings an enchanted song.

"This song is said to guide the souls of the dead to the afterlife.

"The siren is a ferryman of souls, the most faithful servant of Death."

"Death?" William frowned.

"Do you mean the Death from the tale of the Three Brothers?" asked Mercury, who had been quietly listening.

"Exactly," Newt replied with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

"Wait a minute—the Three Brothers... that's just a story, isn't it?" William grew more confused.

If sirens were real, he could understand. He'd seen the power of phoenixes; perhaps the siren was just a highly magical mermaid.

But now they were bringing in the afterlife and Death itself? That was starting to sound like the magical equivalent of an email scam.

"What's the story of the Three Brothers?" Hermione asked, completely lost. She hadn't heard of it before.

"It's a bedtime story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard," William explained.

"How have I not heard of it?" Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"It's an old wizarding tale, supposedly written by Beedle himself. Every young wizard knows it."

"How do you know it?" Hermione asked curiously.

"I bought a wizarding storybook for Annie before I started at Hogwarts. She used to insist I read her bedtime stories every night," William said.

"So, what's the story about?" Hermione pressed.

Clearing his throat, William began;

"Three brothers, travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight reached a deep treacherous river where anyone who attempted to swim or wade would drown. Learned in the magical arts, the brothers conjured a bridge with their wands and proceeded to cross

Halfway through the bridge, a hooded figure stood before them. The figure was the enraged spirit of Death, cheated of his due. Death cunningly pretended to congratulate them and proceeded to award them with gifts of their own choosing.

The eldest brother, a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence. Death granted his wish by fashioning the Elder Wand from a branch of a nearby elder tree standing on the banks of the river. 

The second brother, an arrogant man, chose to further humiliate death, and asked for the power to recall the deceased from the grave. Death granted his wish by crafting the Resurrection Stone from a stone picked from the riverbank. 

The third and youngest brother, who was the most humble and wise, did not trust Death and asked for something to enable him to go forth without Death being able to follow. A reluctant Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own invisibility cloak.

The three brothers took their prizes and soon went on their separate ways.

William summerised the rest of the story;

"In the end, the two brothers died.

"Death searched for the youngest brother as years passed but never succeeded. It was only when the third brother reached a great age, he took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. Greeting Death as an old friend, they departed this life as equals."

"It's just a fairy tale," Hermione interjected, supporting William's skepticism. "There's no such thing as Death…"

"Wait," Mercury interrupted.

"I've heard a different version of the Three Brothers tale from my great-grandfather.

It's nothing like Beedle's version."

Mercury's statement left William stunned.

A bedtime story… with an entirely new version?

join my patreon for 100+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/HyppoTL