Part I: After the War
Chapter 1: Pieces of a Puzzle
He walked down the stone steps and descended into the entrance hall of the ancient castle, the quietness deafening to his ears. It seemed as if with each step he took, his footsteps echoed loudly off of the war-torn walls. His heart felt heavy, almost as if it was tied down to an anchor within the pit of his stomach, as his breathing was deeply uneven. His hands were shaking as sweat coated the back of his neck, while his jet black hair was dotted with rubble, dirt, and grime. His glasses had a crack that ran down the left lenses while his eyes grew heavy in both tiredness and weariness of what was to follow.
Harry passed by the wide-open doors of the Great Hall and saw bodies lying on the cold, stone floor, dead. Haunting images of Remus Lupin, who had a deep gash slashed across his bloodied chest, Tonks, whose left eye had been savagely taken out by Bellatrix Lestrange, Colin Creevey, whose neck had been pillaged by Fenrir Greyback, and Fred Weasley, whose face masked a mix of surprise and pain, clouded the image before him, so much so, that Harry was sure he would collapse in the next moment.
Shaking his head of the horrific, dismembered bodies, Harry spotted Ginny Weasley, her eyes red from shed tears over her dead brother. In fact, the entire Weasley family stood rooted on the spot, huddled around the body of Fred, a member of the family that would never make anyone laugh ever again.
Turning away, Harry walked out of the Hogwarts castle, and basked in the bright sunshine, which almost seemed to mock the deadly scene underneath it. And yet, under the clear, blue skies, Harry felt at ease. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air, he spotted someone familiar ahead of him, sitting under a tree, and staring out at the calm waters of the Black Lake.
Making his way over, a thought occurred to Harry that ever since he defeated Voldemort, he had not spotted Hermione. Through all of the congratulations and celebrations that had taken place right after the evil dark wizard fell dead, he had just assumed Hermione was lost in the throng of the well-wishers, which encompassed who Harry considered his family and friends.
A wind swept over the grounds of Hogwarts, ruffling Harry's jet-black hair into an even more unruly mess, while Hermione's brown curls swirled around her face, while the waters of the Black Lake rippled in small waves. The grass crunched under Harry's shoes as he made his way closer and closer to Hermione. He saw that she was hugging her knees against her chest as she leaned back against the trunk of the tree.
Upon approaching Hermione, Harry didn't know exactly what to say. So instead, he sat down next to her as he stretched his legs out in front of him. Together, the pair basked in silence, as Harry was picking away at a hole he had in his jeans.
He felt Hermione turn to look at him. Sighing inwardly, he turned to face her and the two gazed into each other's eyes. He noticed that Hermione's warm, brown eyes had turned to tiny pellets of sadness as he also noted that her face was smeared with a mixture of dirt and blood. Her clothes were ripped in several places while she had a bruised cheek, and a deep scar that ran down the length of her exposed neck.
"Hermione, are you okay," Harry managed to ask, seeing her injuries.
"I've been better," she replied quietly, shrugged her shoulders, "but don't worry about me. Harry, how are you?"
Harry shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly as he responded, "I don't know, actually. I don't think I've ever taken the time to think about what life would be like after the war ended."
Hermione nodded her head as she said slowly, "I feel the same way right now. It's almost as if I don't know what to do anymore. We spent such a long time trying to finish everything Professor Dumbledore had set out to accomplish and now that it is done, what's there left to do?"
Harry nodded his head in answer and went back to picking at the hole in his jeans, while also scratching at an itch in his ear.
"Everything's going to change now isn't it," Hermione asked quietly.
Harry looked over at her and replied, "Probably but isn't that what we set out to do…to change everything?"
"Yes, but it's almost as if this all feels like a dream. Voldemort's dead, his followers are caught, but for some reason, I don't feel happy at all. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but something feels wrong about this whole situation."
"Maybe its shock, what we're going through, because I feel exactly the same," Harry said, now picking at a blade of green grass.
"Maybe," Hermione replied thoughtfully. "I don't even know what to do next."
"Then come with me," Harry said, standing to his feet, stretching out his hand for Hermione to take, while chucking the newly-ripped grass back towards the ground.
Hermione turned to give him a questioning look. "Harry, where are you going?"
"Away," he responded simply, "I just can't be here right now."
"But what do we tell the others," Hermione asked, "Ron, Ginny, the rest of the Weasleys, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall?"
Harry shook his head slightly from side to side as he replied, "We don't tell them anything, Hermione. We just go."
"And do you have any plan of what you're going to do?"
Again, Harry shook his head from side to side as he responded, "For the first time in my life Hermione, I don't have any plans. But right now, I need to get away from Hogwarts. But, I want you to come with me."
Hermione looked at Harry's still outstretched hand before she cautiously reached out her own hand and placed it in his. He helped her stand to her feet as they once again gazed into each other's eyes.
Suddenly, Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. Smiling for the first time in what seemed like hours, Harry returned her hug, as he then noticed she was crying.
"I'm going to apparate away," Harry whispered down to her calmly.
"But, Harry, what about the wards," Hermione replied tearfully into his chest.
"They probably have been taken down with everyone celebrating," he replied.
As he felt her head nod in approval, Harry though hard before suddenly he apparted away, leaving behind Hogwarts, with Hermione in his arms.
Harry and Hermione appeared on the doorstep of 12 Grimmauld Place in London. As another blast of wind swept over the pair, Hermione realized they had left Hogwarts, as she slowly retracted her arms off of his shoulders; however, Harry still had one of his arms wrapped around her waist.
Grabbing his wand with his free hand, Harry pointed it at the keyhole of Grimmauld Place and said, "ALOHOMORA." Instantly, the lock clicked open and the door swung forward, emitting entrance to the two Gryffindors.
They stepped over the threshold and Harry instantly realized that the home was kept in pristine condition.
"It looks like Kreacher has never stopped cleaning the place," Harry commented, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Well, this is his home, Harry. I was actually surprised he left it to fight at Hogwarts and stay there instead of returning back here," Hermione responded softly, as the pair made their way down the narrow and darkened hallway, past closed doors and the life-sized painting of Walburga Black, whose soft snores could be heard rumbling about.
"Come on," Harry urged, now leading Hermione by the hand. He opened the door leading down to the kitchen. As the pair descended the steps, Harry flicked his wand as a fire started to burn in the room's fireplace.
"I'm going to fix us something to eat," Harry said, as he got to work in the kitchen, "just take a seat and relax."
Hermione rolled her eyes as she said, "Harry, when are you going to get it that you don't have to do everything alone? I'm going to help you."
"Honestly, Hermione, I'm fine," Harry said, "I did all of the cooking while at the Dursley's; it's no big deal."
"Well, I'm still going to help you, Harry," Hermione said, walking over to a counter, waving her wand to have a loaf of bread start to slice itself apart.
Harry and Hermione started to work like this in silence, waving their wands at different points in time, having a wide assortment of foods chop itself up, while the dishes, goblets, and cutlery flew over the pair's shoulders and onto the long table situated in the middle of the kitchen.
After ten minutes, Harry looked over at Hermione and said, "Take a seat, I'm just going to finish off this stew and I'll join you."
Harry waved his wand again as a black cauldron poured its contents into two bowls, billows of steam issuing into the air. Harry then walked over and sat down across from Hermione as the two bowls plopped itself down in front of them.
"Thanks, Harry," Hermione said, smiling appreciatively over at him, "I can't remember the last time we sat down and ate a meal together."
As Harry dipped a slice of bread into his stew and took a bite, he wondered aloud, "I think it was with Kreacher, wasn't it…the night before we went to the Ministry of Magic?"
"Has it been that long," Hermione asked, looking off towards a bare wall.
"I think so," Harry responded.
"That was such a long time ago," Hermione stated, "and so many things have happened since then."
Harry nodded his head as he said, "Too many things."
The pair continued on to feast away on stillness, lost in their own muddled thoughts.
"I just wish there was a way we could have saved everyone," Harry started to say.
"Harry, don't," Hermione warned, looking over at him, staring into his bright, green eyes. "This was war, and as hard as it is to admit it, war holds no prejudice. It's unforgiving and cruel and unfortunately, not everyone lives to see their next day."
"I know that, Hermione, but it just hurts to see dead bodies all over the Great Hall, bodies of our friends and people we considered our family," Harry responded bitterly.
"Harry, you can't blame yourself for what has happened. None of this was your fault," Hermione reprimanded.
Harry shot her a cold glare as he said as calmly as he could, "I'm not blaming myself for anything."
"Yes you are," she said firmly, "you always tended to blame yourself for situations and events that were completely out of your control. I know you, Harry."
Harry shook his head, trying to even his breathing, as he knew Hermione was right.
"Harry, this isn't easy for me and I know it isn't easy for you," Hermione said gently, reaching out and taking hold of his hand, "but sometimes, life isn't fair. The best we can do is always remember who is close to us, and surround ourselves by those who love us, and we love in return."
Harry looked over at Hermione as his eyes started to water. He squeezed her hand as a lone tear escaped down the side of his cheek.
"I just remember seeing the faces of Remus, Tonks, George, Sirius, Dumbledore, and…I don't know, I feel like I failed them."
"Harry, how could you possible think that," Hermione sighed.
At her words, anger started bubbling dangerously inside of Harry all of a sudden as he ripped his hand out of Hermione's as he slammed his first on the wooden table and yelled loudly, "Because they're not here with us anymore, Hermione! They're dead…all of them…just like my parents! How could you possibly sit there and eat like nothing has happened! We just went through a war and you're trying to tell me that none of this is my fault!"
Hermione shakily stood to her feet as she started to say, "Harry, please-,"
But he cut her off as he continued to shout, "I'm a failure! I've failed so many people in my life and let so many others down! I hate where I am right now and I hate what my life has become! How are we able to move on from what has happened!"
Harry then grabbed his half-filled plate and flung it as hard as he could against one wall, where it shattered into thousands of pieces. He shoved his goblet off of the table where it clattered loudly onto the ground, dumping its contents onto the stone floor. Harry then stomped up the stairs of the kitchen and slammed the door as hard as he could behind him, leaving Hermione speechless and all alone in the Grimmauld Place kitchen.
At the sound of a door being slammed closed, the cold and murderous screams of the portrait of Ms. Black sprung to life, as the dark violet curtains of her painting were flung open, revealing the wide and hollowed, dark eyes of Walburga Black as her mouth spewed insults, such as, "Filth! Mudbloods! Blood-traitors! There are all the same! Pieces of vermin besmirching the noble and ancient house of Black! Trollops and gypsies alike, be gone!"
Harry looked at the revived portrait in disgust as he ascended the creaking stairs up to the homes' second story.
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP," Harry yelled at the painting, shooting a shower of red sparks over at it, causing the curtains to close, and plunging the house back into silence.
Harry opened a random door and closed it, making sure not to slam it shut, and flung himself face-down on the bed inside. Thoughts clouded his mind. He kept seeing the dead bodies and the lifeless faces of those in the Great Hall, along with his outburst at Hermione down in the kitchen. He slammed his firsts onto the bed and groaned loudly in frustration. Why wasn't he celebrating an end to Voldemort and an end to the second Wizarding War that had finally reached its finale? Why wasn't he happy? Why did everyone have to die for him?
As more tears threatened to fall, Harry hastily took off his glasses and wiped his eyes free from a cascade of sorrow that still hung over him like a set of heavy chains to which there was no key to free him from.
After shoving his glasses back on his face, Harry took off his jacket and threw it against a wall as he continued to lay face-down on the bed, wishing for his feelings of dead weight to go away. However, he had the distinct feeling that these feelings would hang over him for the rest of his life.
A quiet knock was heard upon his door as Hermione's soft voice called out attentively, "Harry, are you in there?"
Harry thought of ignoring her, before he realized he didn't have the heart to do that to Hermione. He got up from the bed and opened the door to see Hermione standing there, a frown on her face, while a tray full of food levitated behind her.
He looked down into her eyes as she gulped and said courteously, "I thought you might like some food. You didn't get to finish yours downstairs."
Harry nodded his head once as he opened the door wider while Hermione motioned her wand for the food tray to land calmly on the bed. She gave him a small smile before turning away.
However, before she could descend the steps, Harry called out, "Hermione, wait!"
She turned around as he said, "Come join me, please? I'm sorry about before. I promise I won't yell at you again. And…I don't think you were able to finish your food either."
He gave her a lopsided smile as she gave a small smirk of her own and nodded her head in agreement. After she entered into the room, Harry closed the door behind them.
"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry about before. I know that this is hard for all of us, but especially you. But I meant everything that I told you back in the kitchen."
"I know," Harry nodded, "this is just so hard to come to terms with right now and all. But I really am sorry about yelling at your before…I just exploded."
"Don't worry about it," she said, before she sat down on the bed, while Harry took a seat across from her with the tray of food situated between them.
As the munched away on their food, Hermione remarked, "You know, Harry, I've got to hand it to you: you do cook really well."
He smiled at her and replied, "You think so?"
"No, I know so. I didn't know you could do it this well."
"Well what can I say: I had a lot of practice with my relatives."
"Are they officially out of your life," Hermione asked.
Harry thought about this for a moment before he responded, "I think so, for the most part at least. Although, it seemed as if Dudley finally got around seeing me as a person instead of his own personal punching bag right before they left."
"Where did they go?"
"Into hiding but I don't know where. I guess that they're somewhere far away."
"Do you think they'll return to Little Whinging since the war is over," Hermione asked, after she took a drink from her goblet.
"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging his shoulders, "I suppose so. I mean, they lived their whole lives there and all."
As Hermione nodded her head in understanding, Harry looked over at her and asked, "And what about your parents? They're still in Australia, right?"
Hermione nodded her head in answer as she said, "I think I'll keep them there for a little longer. I don't have any idea what's going to happen after today and I really don't want them to be around for that."
"Do you think you're ever going to tell your parents of exactly what happened with Voldemort and everything," Harry asked.
This time, it was Hermione who shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "I don't know yet. Part of me wants to, but another part of me doesn't. I guess I'll come to a decision when I bring them back to England."
As Harry and Hermione continued to eat their meal, Harry thought that it was time to address the 'elephant' in the room, so to speak.
Swallowing, he then asked, "So what is there between you and Ron?"
At this, Hermione froze with a forkful of food halfway to her mouth, as her eyes grew wide, and her cheeks flushed a light pink in embarrassment.
"What are you talking about," she asked quietly, not meeting Harry's eyes.
"Oh, come off it, Hermione, I saw what happened between the two of you during the battle. I'm not blind you know."
Hermione giggled lightly as she took her wand in her hand, pointed it at Harry's glasses and said, "REPARO." Instantly, the crack in his left lenses of his glasses fixed itself as Hermione said, "I can't believe neither one of us thought to fix it before now."
"Thanks, but stop avoiding my question," Harry continued.
"I don't think there is anything between me and Ron," Hermione said, after a thoughtful moment.
"Really? Because that kiss suggested something."
Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head as she responded, "It was the heat of the moment, actually. I was overwhelmed with all of these emotions and Ron made that comment about the house-elves and…well, you know the rest. But enough about me, Harry, what about you and Ginny?"
"I don't know, really," Harry replied honestly. "I broke up with her before you, Ron, and I went off searching for horcruxes and I had every intention of getting back together with her when all of this ended."
"And you feel differently now," Hermione asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I do. Something changed in all of us when we were away from Hogwarts. I don't know exactly what it was but something happened to us out there. I saw it in Ron, and I can see it in you, Hermione. But, it seems as if my feelings for Ginny have, you know, gone away. Not completely, but a good part of it just isn't there anymore. Does that make any sense?"
Hermione nodded her head as she stated, "It does, Harry. I guess it's safe to say we all grew up and maybe you realized that Ginny just isn't the one for you. Of course, you could still change your mind and everything; you shouldn't count her out just yet."
Harry nodded his head before he realized their tray of food was now empty.
Smiling over at her, he nodded his head and said, "Well, that was a pretty good lunch. Thank you, Hermione, for staying with me. It means a lot."
"Well, Harry, I was glad to keep you company and thank you for taking me along."
Before either of them could say anything further, a quiet POP was suddenly heard. Harry and Hermione whipped their heads around to see Kreacher had just appeared in the Black family home, in the room where Harry and Hermione had just finished their lunch.
"Master Harry, your disappearance has created a stir back at Hogwarts," Kreacher croaked, "everyone is wondering where you have gone."
Harry looked from Kreacher to Hermione then back to Kreacher as he said, "I needed a break."
"Should I tell them at Hogwarts that Master needs his rest?"
Harry sighed audibly as he responded, "Tell them Hermione and I will be back before nightfall."
As Kreacher gave a low bow to Harry and hunched his shoulders at Hermione, Harry suddenly called out, "Kreacher."
The old and aging elf turned towards him, with his back curved at the spine while his over-large ears drooped towards the floor, as Harry said, "Thanks."
The elf bowed again before disappearing with another quiet POP.
Harry again looked over at Hermione and noticed she was smiling over at him, with little doubt of her reason of doing so was because of Harry and Kreacher's respectful relationship.
"What's that look for Hermione? Did you think after all this time that I would forget about being nice towards Kreacher?"
"Well, I would hope you wouldn't forget but you never know," Hermione joked, as Harry gave her a wide smile.
"Actually, Hermione, I want to go and visit my parents in Godric's Hollow," Harry said suddenly.
Hermione nodded her head at him and replied, "I thought you might want to. It also makes sense for you to visit them. But I think before we go, we need to clean ourselves up. We both look hideous."
Harry made a point to look down at himself before he gave Hermione a quizzical look and said, "I don't think so."
"You are so full of jokes today, Mr. Potter. I can see that you changed as well."
Harry laughed out loud as Hermione pointed her wand at him and said, "TERGEO." Harry was instantly free from the dirt, blood, and grime he was coated in as he then performed the spell on Hermione.
Being alone with Hermione made Harry feel more at ease ever since the final battle ended. He did not know if he could stomach being around so many people at the present moment, but having one of his best friends there with him, after everything they had been through together, comforted Harry far more than would ever be able to say.
Now feeling more elated than when he first arrived, Harry stood to his feet and held out his hand to help Hermione stand up.
"Are you ready," he asked her, pulling her close to his side.
She looked up at him and nodded her head. Nodding his own head once, Harry and Hermione apparated out of 12 Grimmauld Place, leaving behind the noble and ancient house of Black.
Harry and Hermione suddenly appeared on the outskirts of the small village of Godric's Hollow. Harry saw no one around them as he looked for anyone that might have spotted them as he wrapped an arm around Hermione's waist as she did the same to him.
It all seemed so serene to him to be strolling down a cobble-stone street where Harry had lived for a small part of his life, with one of his best friends right beside him. A soft wind blew over the pair as they passed tall trees that thundered upwards towards the clear, blue sky. The pair then walked by small cottages, nestled between high hedges which separated property from property.
It was quiet in Godric's Hollow, a sound that was so welcoming to Harry's ears, which would no doubt be a stark contrast to the events that were taking place at Hogwarts.
Turning a corner, Harry then spotted what he had ventured here for: the wrought, iron gates of the village's cemetery. Together, the pair walked under a small gated entrance where Harry, who knew exactly where his parents' graves were this time around, led Hermione towards.
Walking down a lone row, the young pair stood before the gravestones of James and Lily Potter, lives taken too soon while their deaths left behind a life they never knew.
Both Harry and Hermione kneeled down before the headstones of Harry's parents, while Harry noticed that the wreath of flowers Hermione had conjured the winter before was still there, resting peacefully against the tombstones.
Harry closed his eyes as Hermione took his hand and squeezed it comfortingly. He reassured her that he was fine by squeezing her hand back.
For a long moment, the two knelt there together, no words being said aloud, as no words were needed. The peace, knowing that Harry had defeated the wizard who had killed his parents, surrounded him in a manner of pure euphoria. And even though his parents were gone, Harry had made sure there deaths were not in vain. A small part of him knew that even though his parents were not there physically, mentally and emotionally, they would always be part of him.
Harry thought about everyone that had died in both the first and second wizarding wars that had erupted in England. The faces of his friends and family passed through his head, making him aware of the fact that he would never be alone. Harry surmised that he had come a long way from his first day on the Hogwarts Express, where he would enter into another world, blind to Muggles, which would forever change him.
He opened his eyes just as Hermione waved her wand and conjured a set of white lilies and placed them against the graves quietly.
Harry smiled at the flowers before standing to his feet while Hermione did the same. Taking her soft hand in his, the pair walked out of the cemetery, both of them feeling lighter than when they first came in.
"Harry, did you want to stop by your house," Hermione asked softly, looking over at him.
After he thought about her suggestion for a moment, he nodded his head and replied, "Yeah, I think we should check it out."
The two walked down an empty street, before turning right and heading towards the end of the lane which was where the Potter's cottage lie in its current state of ruin. Harry and Hermione saw that its outer wall was covered in green ivy, while beyond an old, wooden gate, the grass seemed to have never stopped growing. A portion of the roof had caved in, revealing collapsed wooden beams and small splinters. The door to the cottage had been blasted apart, while curtains behind a broken glass window blew gently in the breeze.
Harry carefully opened the gate as he and Hermione passed the small sign that appeared before wizards, explaining what had happened that fateful October night. As they wandered among the chest-high grass, Harry's breathing became more and more uneven, for this would be the first time he stepped into the home where the death of his parents occurred.
Leading Hermione by the hand, the pair stepped over the threshold and looked around and noticed how bad of a state the Potter's cottage was left in. There was rubble everywhere; the banister of the stairs was coated in a thick layer of dust, while a bed hung halfway down the middle of the ceiling. A small chandelier was shattered onto the wooden floor in the home's foyer, as glass was littered all around. The furniture was covered in mold and dirt, while the wallpaper hung dead off of the cottage's walls.
Hermione gasped as she looked around the home as she whispered, "Harry, this is awful."
He turned towards her and said, "Well, no one's been around to look after it."
"Do you mind if we clean it up a bit," Hermione asked.
He shook his head from side to side as he replied, "Not at all."
Hermione then waved her wand as instantly, the cottage began to repair itself. The dust vanished off of the banister of the stairs; the bed flew upwards and disappeared as it returned to its original place upstairs; parts of the ceiling pieced together again in which the small chandelier hung itself from; tiny glass shards flew around Harry and Hermione as they fit together to form the windows of the home; the mold and dirt disappeared from the furniture while the wallpaper plastered itself once again against the walls of the small home.
Harry looked around the see the Potter's cottage was clean as if it was completely new.
"Wow," he breathed in satisfaction, "thanks, Hermione."
She smiled over at him in answer.
Harry then walked into the living room and saw a number of pictures that were erected upon a ledge over the fireplace.
He bent down with Hermione and saw a picture of him as a baby on his dad's shoulders, as the both of them were laughing and smiling. Another picture showed his mum feeding him his bottle of milk, while she repeatedly looked over her shoulder to wave at the camera. A final picture showed both of his parents dancing in the room he and Hermione were standing in, as Lily was enveloped in James' arms, the two of them enjoying the love they shared with each other and for their only son.
"Your mum was beautiful, Harry," Hermione said, gazing at each picture in turn. "And you look exactly like your dad."
He smiled over at Hermione before replying, "Except for my eyes."
She smirked beside him as he then noticed a folded piece of parchment was lying under the picture of his parents dancing.
Curious, he picked up the piece of parchment and read aloud:
January 30, 1981,
James is just someone who is always full of surprises! When I woke this morning, a year older than the day before, I expected to receive a big kiss from my husband, wishing me a 'happy birthday.' However, that did not happen. In fact, nothing did. I thought that he had forgotten about my birthday altogether, and quite frankly, who could blame him? Just yesterday we received grim news about the murder of Fabian and Gideon Prewett; a very big loss in such a senseless war that has been going on here in England. It is feared that an entire generation will be lost before this war finds its end. Even though James always keeps a smile on his face, I can see in his eyes that he always worries over me and little Harry. He always makes sure that me and little Harry are as comfortable as possible even though we have since gone into hiding in Godric's Hollow. And this is distinctly why I have fallen in love with him.
I shake my head to see how far James has come since our years at Hogwarts together. He was such a big-headed showoff and I could barely stand the sight of such a daft airhead! But, by the time our seventh-year came around, he changed. I didn't know how or why he had done so, but he just did. Although I tried to bid my time away from his charming smiles and his untamable jet-black hair, there was something about him that I suddenly felt attracted to. Was it his hazel eyes that seemed to glow in mischief or was it his Quidditch skills that made the entire Gryffindor house swoon at the knees? I don't know if it was one or the other, or a completely different trait, but he had definitely changed and I started to take notice.
After I was initially upset after not being wished a 'happy birthday' by anyone the entire day, Sirius suddenly appeared in our home. James told me that Sirius was going to baby-sit little Harry while James told me we needed to talk, in private. As we left our cottage, I cast a nervous glance over my shoulder at Sirius and little Harry; no doubt a handful of items would be broken by the time we would arrive back at home.
James led me down the quiet streets of Godric's Hollow in the moonlight, until we came upon what looked like a piece of graffiti plastered across a side wall in a dim alleyway, situated between two old stores. The graffiti art was of a woman's face, covered in heavy makeup while her brown hair was styled beautifully. There was also a raven that was situated on her shoulder but this raven appeared to be quite odd: one of its wings was covered in black feathers while its other wing was covered in shimmering diamonds; the display was simply stunning!
James looked at me and gave me a sly smile before taking out his wand and tapping the graffiti three times. Suddenly, the raven flew out of the picture as the woman blinked over at us. James leaned towards the graffiti woman and said quietly, 'Potter, party of two.' The woman nodded in understanding as a doorway suddenly appeared to which James and I stepped forward. I gasped in surprise when I saw…
Harry stopped reading and looked on the back of the parchment he had found his mother's note upon but saw no other writing.
"It stops there," Hermione asked, who had taken a seat next to Harry on a couch while he read the note to her.
"Yeah," Harry said, disappointment seeping into his voice. He stood to his feet and looked under all of the other pictures to see if the second part of Lily's note was there, but it was not to be found. "Well, at least it's something, right?"
Hermione then stood to her feet as she looked over at Harry and said, "It was lovely. It shows just how much your parents cared for each other and for you, Harry."
Harry folded up the piece of parchment that bore his mother's writing and tucked it into the pocket of his jeans. He then turned to Hermione and said, "Let's go upstairs and take a quick look around."
As she nodded her head, he grabbed her hand and together, they walked up the stairs of the cottage. When they reached the landing, Harry led Hermione to a door on their immediate right and opened it to find a room that housed a small bed, decked in blue and white sheets, while a dresser and a full-length mirror stood against a far wall.
They then traveled to the landing's second bedroom, and Harry and Hermione viewed what they supposed was James and Lily's room, for it was much larger than the first room, and another assortment of pictures of the two of them, as well as Harry as a baby, along with another picture James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter.
When Harry saw the four marauders standing together, laughing at the camera before them, Harry's mouth turned into a frown before hatred started to bubble deep within his heart at the sight of his parents' betrayer: Peter Pettigrew.
Seeing Harry's face contort into a mask of rage, Hermione put her hand over his chest while her other hand rested softly on his shoulder.
He looked over at her as she silently but forcefully pried him away from the moving picture.
"Harry, remember that it is over now," she said in a somber voice.
Harry grabbed her hand that was still resting peacefully against his chest before wrapping Hermione in a warm hug.
"I miss them…I miss them a lot, Hermione," he eventually whispered to her.
"I know, Harry, but remember that they'll always be a part of your life. It doesn't matter if it's physically or not." She pulled away as she said, "They'll always be right here," and rested her hand over his heart.
Never before had Harry shown such emotion or feeling over his family, other than the time that he completely trashed Dumbledore's office after Sirius had died in the Death Chamber down in the Department of Mysteries. To Harry, he had never been given a childhood of emotional depth, and he felt awkward if he tried to express his wide range of emotions. Simply, it was something Harry could not do. Back in his fifth year, Harry had lashed out at anyone within his reach, including Ron and Hermione, after he had been disconnected with the wizarding world after the events that unfolded during the Triwizard Tournament. Expressing himself was an idea that was completely foreign to him.
However, being here, in Godric's Hollow with Hermione, it was different. He didn't know why this particular trip was special (though he guessed it had to do with the fact that the war was now over and Voldemort was dead), but he wasn't positive on that thought. Hermione, though, seemed to have this aura about her that signified heartache, through the matter that she connected with Harry on a personal level…something that no one else had been able to accomplish. At this point in time, after the war had ended, Harry felt as if his feelings about loss and misplacement were compatible with what Hermione was too feeling. It was something only the two experienced together, as no other person was able to share their understanding of each other.
After looking in each other's eyes for another minute, Hermione said, "There's still another room to look at."
Nodding his head, he again led her by the hand for the third and final bedroom of the cottage. As the door creaked slowly open, Harry saw a small, white crib was resting against one of the pale blue walls, while a rocking chair was situated next to it.
Smiling at the scene, he walked into the room and saw half a dozen stuffed animals that were residing within his old crib. He picked up a stuffed chimaera and shook his head at it in mock embarrassment while Hermione said, "I think that suits you, Harry."
"Really? Well, in that case, I think this is the one for you, Hermione." He picked up a stuffed banshee and placed it in her hands.
She quirked up an eyebrow at him while giving him a pointed look and said, "Really? Is this the best you can do?"
He laughed loudly as they placed the animals back in the crib. As Harry took another look around his old room, Hermione asked, "What are you going to do with this place, Harry?"
"I was thinking I would leave it just as it is, for now. I don't think that I could stomach living in Grimmauld Place and this just feels like my home…something I didn't really have growing up."
"Well, you have every right to keep it, Harry. But does this mean that you won't be returning to Hogwarts next term?"
Harry looked over at Hermione as his bright, green eyes met her warm, brown ones. He shrugged his shoulders as he took a seat on the floor while Hermione followed him.
"It's something that I haven't given much thought about. Before, I had every intention of not returning but now, I guess I could consider it. You're returning though, right?"
Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before she nodded her head and replied, "I feel like I have an obligation to return. And I want to go back as well to finish my education."
Harry nodded his head in understanding. "Do you think that many people will return to Hogwarts in the fall?"
Hermione shrugged her shoulders as she responded, "I don't know for sure. I think this war has impacted so many students and staff that I don't think many people do have any plans as of right now."
"I guess it should be a time for mourning," Harry remarked quietly, as he leaned back on his hands.
Hermione looked grim at his words as she sat cross-legged before him. "I guess everyone will make their plans during the remainder of the summer."
The pair sat there as silence descended between them. After a long moment, Harry looked at Hermione and questioned, "How do you think that Hogwarts is right now?"
"Do you mean Hogwarts itself, or the people that are there?"
"The people," Harry answered.
"I can't imagine that they're hurting for the people that we've lost, but I'd also imagine that they're happy and elated and relieved that the war has finally ended."
"I don't want to go back, Hermione. I just can't deal with all of it right now."
"Harry, when do you think you're going to be able to handle it? The more you wait, the harder it is going to be when you come face-to-face with everyone that is waiting for you back there," Hermione reasoned. "As hard as it is to say, they're not going to go away."
"I don't know if I'll be ready for it because I don't feel like I am right now," Harry said quietly.
Hermione scooted over so that she was next to Harry and said, "I'll be there with you every step of the way. This is hard for all of us, Harry, but we have to face the reality that the war has ended, and now it's time to move on. We will never forget what happened but we can't keep avoiding what will come next."
"And what does come next, Hermione?"
"I don't know for sure, Harry, but you can't forget that we have each other. We also have all of our friends as well."
Without smiling, Harry nodded his head at her as he stood to his feet, then turned to help Hermione to hers.
"Well then, I guess it's time we returned," he asked.
"It's probably for the best," she answered.
"Hermione, before we go, I want to thank you again for coming with me. This kind of reminds me of when you and I were alone when hunting for the horcruxes."
"I'll never forget that. That was the first time we visited Godric's Hollow together, actually," Hermione said.
"Trust me when I say that I remember that perfectly, Hermione."
She smiled over at him and said, "Well, I guess it would be appropriate for me thank you as well for taking me along. This is just going to be so strange, not having to worry about Voldemort anymore."
"In fact, I don't mind that at all," Harry stated, with a small smile.
"Me neither," Hermione replied.
Harry wrapped Hermione in his arms. As she draped her arms around his waist, she snuggled her head against his chest. Harry then took the opportunity to rest his head atop of hers. For a while, they just stood there, hugging each other, and basking in the peacefulness of the moment caught in time, a time of which a major war had ended and an evil, dark wizard had met his downfall.
"Harry, do you think they would have placed the anti-apparation wards back around Hogwarts," Hermione asked after a moment.
"There's only one way to find out." With those words, Harry apparated he and Hermione away from Godric's Hollow and towards Hogwarts castle where their future would begin.
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Author's Small Note: Chapter 2 will be posted Tuesday. Thanks for reading.
