Chapter Twenty-Three
Harry and Ginny walked up the Old Mill Road. Once past the edge of the village the narrow road was bordered on either side by woods. It seemed to Harry like they had stepped back in time, the road was a road in name only really, a dirt path just wide enough for a pair of lorries to pass side by side if one driver encroached into the grassy area between the dirt and the trees, though anything more modern than a horse drawn carriage would seem out of place here. There was the occasional rustling of leaves from one side or the other, and Ginny couldn't escape the feeling that she should be carrying a basket of goodies and skipping to grandma's house. She smiled and leaned on Harry as they walked, confident that he would protect her from the big bad wolf should it appear.
Within a mile there was a slight bend in the road, and they could no longer see the village behind them. Eventually the woods on the left began to thin, and a short stone wall bordered the roadway. Harry recognized the location from his year on the run with Hermione and Ron. Where the three friends had once seen a dilapidated old mill surrounded by a sparse but forbidding forest, Harry and Ginny now saw a large stone manor home set back on a large tract of treed land. The home was neither as old nor as grand as Hogwarts, but to Harry it was quite possibly the most magnificent place he had ever seen.
Harry's step quickened and he pulled Ginny along with him. Their brisk walking pace
soon became a run, until the two halted, breathless, in front of the iron gate. Harry could feel the strength of the protective spells around the perimeter of the property. He reached out and touched the cold metal gate, and felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips. The wards recognized him as the rightful owner of the property, and the gates swung wide, allowing him and Ginny entry. He took her hand and together they walked up the stone path leading to the house, the gates closing slowly behind them.
Ginny admired the grounds as they made their way up the path. The property fronted the road for what she estimated to be about a half mile, with the gate set in the middle. The front 'yard' was sparsely treed and bordered by dense forest on either side. The house was set back about a half mile from the road. She did not know if there were maintenance spells in place or if there were still Potter family house elves living in the home, but the outside did not have the appearance of a place that had been abandoned for almost two decades. There were flowers lining the path and small floral gardens near the front doors, and everything appeared to have been well kept.
Harry was only peripherally aware of the natural beauty around him. Truth be told he was only peripherally aware of Ginny as the approached his ancestral home. He had, at one point in his youth, taken an interest in ancient architecture. Aunt Petunia had been watching a program on BBC 3 one summer afternoon as he was dusting the living room at Privet Drive. So taken had he been by the beautiful old castle they were profiling that he became careless and knocked a small ceramic figurine from its perch. The figure, a west highland terrier, had not broken when it hit the carpeted floor, but Aunt Petunia was furious just the same. She grabbed him by he hair and dragged him to his cupboard, where he remained locked for three days and nights. And while the incident did leave him with a supreme dislike of small ceramic dogs, it sparked a keen interest in old stone buildings. When able to access the school library he perused various texts on the subject, and from that research he recognized that the house before him had grown over many, many years. The oldest parts he could see from the front appeared to date from the eleventh or twelfth centuries, with bits having been added on every century or so. Not in the haphazard manner of The Burrow mind you, which could be described as an architectural crazy quilt, no, here each addition flowed cleanly into the next, complimenting one another in a way that was pleasing to the eye. If one did not know better one might think it had all been built at once.
Harry realized that he had stopped walking to admire the house. He looked down at Ginny, who smiled up at him and squeezed his hand encouragingly. He smiled back at her, "Ready?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the house.
"Whenever you are," she replied.
They crossed the final hundred or so yards quickly and Harry reached for the door handle with a shaking hand. He again felt a warm sensation pass through him as he grasped the knob. It turned easily and the door opened silently. The air inside was not stale or musty as he would have suspected and for a moment he half expected to see a fire burning in the nearby fireplace. The couple stepped inside and moved through the foyer into the great room. The furnishings and decorations were devoid of dust, the room spoke of wealth, but was not garish or ostentatious. It was pleasant and inviting, with homey, personal touches which led harry to believe that this room was a functional place where family would come to spend time together, rather than a showplace meant to impress or intimidate guests.
Harry and Ginny were impressed however, so much so that neither immediately noticed the quiet padding footsteps approaching. Both jumped when they heard the voice, and turned to see an ancient looking house elf standing a few feet away.
"Good morning Master James," the old elf began, "will you and Miss Lily be staying for lunch?"
Writers's Notes:
HOLY CRAP, AN UPDATE!!
What can I say other than, I'm sorry. Work made finding time to write problematic, and when my schedule finally returned to normal I had lost my muse…I've tried several times to make it back into Harry's world, but for some reason the door has been closed to me. I've got a toe in and with any luck I'll be able to get back into the place I was in February when it was all flowing so freely and Harry and the gang were telling me their story rather than me trying to wrench it out of them.
-T