The Three Brothers: The Cure

Prologue

The forest was quiet. Only the sound of rustling leaves was to be heard. Sprawled like a sleeping giant, it had endured for many millennia, bearing silent witness to the events it had been a host of. So it had done in the past. And so it would continue to do in the future.

But this was no ordinary forest. All forests are bastions of nature, championing life in its most primal form. This forest, however, was home to some of the most dangerous magical creatures in the world; creatures that teemed the forest with a combination of life and magic unlike any other. Some born here, some brought in from distant lands, carried in the pockets of travellers.

Today, they too had decided to hold their silence. For magic had demanded it.

Magic. At least that was what it had been called over the years, a testament to its mysterious and unexplored nature. It was present everywhere and affected everything.

Many believed they had discovered it. Some tried to study it, attempted to control it. A few even claimed that they knew everything about it. And time and again, they'd been surprised by its chaotic nature; what they had named impossible feats of magic.

But that all was nought for the forest. For the forest did not bother with believing in magic; it simply breathed it. It owed its very existence to magic and would one day owe its demise to it as well. It was far too detached to partake in its feeble, worldly motions.

After all, today had been one of those days, when these remarkable, the so-called impossible had happened. Right here, in the bosom of the wild growths. And the forest had still remained silent.

"Pop"

The soft sound was heard distinctly in the clearing of the forest, lying adjacent to the large and imposing stone castle that stood beside it. In a way, it marked the entrance to the forbidden depths that lay further ahead. The sound had marked the arrival of a tall, bearded figure appearing out of thin air. Old leaves crunched beneath his solid boots as he took in a deep breath. He savoured the earthy and musty smell of the forest floor before turning and taking in the sight of the magnificent structure behind him, his eyes shining with melancholy.

Once a stronghold against those who would persecute magic and witchcraft, its builders founded a school within it for training and preparing the younger generations in the art of magic. Hogwarts, it was called by its founders—Lady Helga Hufflepuff of Wales, Lady Rowena Ravenclaw of Scotland, Lord Salazar Slytherin of Ireland, and Lord Godric Gryffindor of England; and it had housed the future of magical Britain for the past millennium.

'This is no time to reminisce,' he thought to himself. 'Especially when there is work to be done.'

Walking a few steps, he started scanning the forest floor beneath him. It had to be somewhere here. His eyes wandered between the scattered leaves, the spectacles framing them helping him focus. It might have taken someone else a much longer time to find what he was looking for, but he was well acquainted with the object in question; perhaps even more than its creator. After a while, he doubled back—and that's when he saw it. Lying in the dirt, just as unassuming as the day he had found it.

He bent and picked it up. For a fleeting moment, he hesitated, turning the stone once in his fingers.

Should he? One last time?

"No," the man spoke softly as his palm closed around it.

Its work was done. The stone had served its purpose. Some things were not meant to be disturbed. Not anymore.

Taking a deep breath, he pocketed it. Turning on the spot, he disappeared with another pop.

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