Harry began pacing in quick circles, his excitement mounting. It felt as though a magnificent, dazzling tapestry of truth was unfurling all around him.
"He was my ancestor!" he said breathlessly. "I'm the descendant of the third brother! It all makes sense now!"
A surge of confidence filled his chest. He believed in the Deathly Hallows completely, with the kind of certainty that made him feel shielded by their very idea.
"Harry," Hermione said again, but he wasn't listening. His hands were trembling as he fumbled with the small leather pouch around his neck.
"Read it," he said, thrusting a letter toward her. "Read it! My mum's letter, Dumbledore borrowed the Invisibility Cloak, Hermione! What other reason could there be? He didn't need a cloak, he could make himself invisible with magic!"
Something slipped from the pouch as he pulled the letter out, a glimmer of gold landed in the grass. The Golden Snitch.
Harry bent down and picked it up, and in that moment, it was as though the fountain of discovery burst open again, another revelation flooding his mind.
"Here!" he shouted, voice filled with wonder. "He left the ring to me, inside the Snitch!"
"You… you think that?" Ron stammered, staring.
Harry couldn't understand Ron's surprise. To him, the conclusion was blindingly obvious. Everything aligned, perfectly, beautifully.
His Invisibility Cloak was the third Hallow.
Once he found a way to open the Snitch, he would have the second.
Then all that remained was to find the first, the Elder Wand, and then,
But as if a brilliant stage had suddenly gone dark, the glow of his revelation vanished. His excitement, his joy, all of it fell away, leaving him standing alone in the cold dark.
"That's what he's after too."
The sudden change in his tone made both Ron and Hermione tense.
"Voldemort's after the Elder Wand."
He turned away from their startled faces, staring into the shadows. The truth fit together so neatly, so completely. Voldemort wasn't just searching for a new wand, he was looking for an old one. The oldest of all.
He'd grown up in a Muggle orphanage, never told wizarding tales as a child, just like Harry. Hardly anyone believed in the Deathly Hallows anymore; could Voldemort have even heard of them?
If he had… surely he would have sought them out, ruthlessly, relentlessly.
Three objects that made their possessor the master of Death, he'd have craved them beyond anything.
But he had found one of them, the ring, and turned it into a Horcrux.
Didn't that prove he didn't know its true power? The greatest secret in all magic?
That meant Voldemort was searching for the Elder Wand without knowing what it really was, unaware it was one of the three Hallows. Because, of all of them, the wand was the least hidden, the most well-known.
Its bloody history ran like a scar through wizarding lore.
Harry looked up at the sky, dizzy with revelation.
Hermione was still holding Lily's letter, and Ron was peering over her shoulder, his brow creased with worry.
"That's it," Harry said quietly, looking between them. "That's the answer. The Deathly Hallows are real, and I already have one. Maybe two."
He lifted the Snitch in his hand.
"Voldemort's chasing the third, but he doesn't realize… he only thinks it's just a powerful wand—"
"Harry," Hermione said softly, stepping closer. She handed him the letter. "I'm sorry, but you're wrong. You must be wrong."
"But can't you see? It all fits—"
"No," she said firmly. "It doesn't. It doesn't fit, Harry. You're getting carried away. Please, just answer me one thing." She cut him off before he could protest.
"If the Deathly Hallows were real, and Dumbledore knew about them, knew that possessing all three could make someone master of Death, why didn't he tell you? Why keep it a secret?"
Harry didn't hesitate. He already had an answer.
"You said it yourself, Hermione, and Anne said it too! It's something I have to work out on my own! It's a journey, a test!"
Hermione frowned, but he pressed on quickly.
"Dumbledore always wanted me to figure things out for myself. He made me prove I could face things, that I could take risks. This feels exactly like something he'd want me to do!"
"Harry," she said sharply, "this isn't a game or a lesson. This is real. Our mission is to find and destroy the Horcruxes. That symbol doesn't mean anything, forget the Hallows!"
Harry barely heard her. He turned the Snitch over and over in his hands, willing it to open, to reveal the Resurrection Stone inside, to prove her wrong, to prove that the Deathly Hallows were real.
Hermione turned to Ron. "You don't believe this either, do you?"
Harry looked up. Ron hesitated.
"I dunno," he said awkwardly. "I mean… parts of it do sound like they fit. But when you think about the big picture…" He took a long breath. "I think we should stick to destroying the Horcruxes, Harry. That's what Dumbledore told us to do. That's what matters most."
Neither Harry nor Hermione looked satisfied by that answer.
Ron glanced between them and sighed. "Look, you two, don't start another row. We'll wait for Anne to come back first. We'll see what she thinks."
"Fine," Harry said confidently. "We'll wait for Anne."
Hermione pressed her lips together but said nothing more. She pulled the tent out of her bag, set it up, and the three of them went inside.
Once inside, none of them rested. Hermione busied herself in the kitchen while Harry and Ron began practicing spells again, the flicker of wandlight breaking the heavy silence.