To the fortunate adventurer,
By the time you read this letter, I should have been dead for a long time.
Perhaps you will hate me, despise me, or even want to dig up my grave and hang my corpse for a whipping. But unfortunately, you will never find where my remains were buried.
Because perhaps they have already become elements making up the next galaxy.
The fact that you have made it this far proves that, like me, you are not someone who enjoys sentimentality or nonsense. As long as you meet the following three conditions, you may proceed to the next stage and claim my inheritance. Otherwise, I can only ask you to return the way you came.
First, you must not tell anyone anything about this place or anything related to it.
Second, you must not use anything learned here to acquire wealth.
Third, take good care of my descendants.
Violating any one of these three agreements will be considered a breach of contract, and you will be punished until you weep bitter tears and regret it beyond measure.
So, promise me that you will keep the agreement, all right?
Thank you for knowing you in this life.
Monogenes Caecilius Hagrid
Voldemort finished reading the contract written in Greek.
Pomona had expected harsh conditions, perhaps some sort of trap, along with some self-glorification and obscure rhetorical language.
The first condition was easy to understand. None of the three Peverell brothers had ever said from whom they inherited what they had learned.
The second, however, was harder to understand.
Wizards who acquired the Elder Wand all used it to commit murder, then robbed people after killing them. Did that count as a breach of contract?
Grindelwald had intended to use the Resurrection Stone to revive an army of Inferi.