Chapter 25:

Alicia paused and Harry and Hermione did with her. Something had shifted and a shiver ran down her spine.

"Alicia?" Harry asked

"Harry, something's wrong." Hermione realised

"What's wrong?"

They had only just reached the grave of the unknown Abbott.

"Something changed." Alicia said, her voice low. "Something's off." Any sign of her crying did show in her voice, it was strong and quiet.

"There's someone there. Someone watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes."

They stood quite still, holding on to one other, gazing at the dense black boundary of the graveyard. Alicia didn't need to look, she could feel the magic in the air, feel it ripple around her. Harry though couldn't, nor could he see anything.

"Are you sure?"

"I saw something move, I could have sworn I did…"

"I can feel it." Alicia whispered and Harry, who had seen her feel magic before in the cave last year, did not doubt this possibility.

She broke from him to free her wand arm.

"We look like Muggles," Harry pointed out.

"Muggles who've just been laying flowers on your parents' grave! Harry, I'm sure there's someone over there!"

Alicia turned slowly to take a look as a rustle suddenly sounded around them. A little eddy of dislodged snow fell in the bush to which Hermione had pointed.

"It's a cat," said Harry, after a second or two, "or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and we can put the Cloak back on."

They glanced back repeatedly as they made their way out of the graveyard. Alicia felt as if they were being followed as they reached the grate and the slippery pavement. Instantly they pulled on the invisibility cloak and walked through the square, huddled together beneath it. The pub was fuller than before: Many voices inside it were now singing the carol that they had heard as they approached the church.

Hermione broke their hurried silence. "Let's go this way," and she pulled Harry who pulled Alicia down the dark street leading out of the village. They walked in the opposite direction from which they had entered. At the end of the lane, there was a point where the cottages ended and the lane turned into open country again. They walked as quickly as they dared, past more windows sparkling with multicoloured lights, the outlines of Christmas trees dark through the curtains. Alicia's eyes however were drawn at the end of the lane and to the dark mass that lay there. If Alicia hadn't been under the Invisibility Cloak and Harry hadn't been holding her hand she'd have run at it. It seemed like Harry had spotted it too, for he was suddenly pulling her and Hermione down the lane. Alicia caught on quickly, wanting to be just as close to the mass but Hermione was surprised and she slipped on a little ice.

"Harry —"

"Look… Look at it, Hermione…"

"I don't… oh!"

Her question was answered, whether the Fidelius Charm still held or not, for she could see it. The spell had died with it's inhabitants, with no one left to protect, and no building to protect, the charm had died.

The hedge had grown wild in the sixteen years since the twins had been taken from the rubble that lay scattered amongst the waist-high grass. Most of the cottage was still standing, though entirely covered in dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart. Alicia knew that was the nursery, where Lily had ran with her children.

And where Voldemort had lost a part of his soul.

The three stood at the gate, gazing up at the wreck of what must once have been a cottage just like those that flanked it.

"I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?" whispered Hermione.

"Maybe you can't rebuild it?" Harry replied. "Maybe it's like the injuries from Dark Magic and you can't repair the damage?"

"Or it's been left as a monument." Alicia offered.

Harry slipped a hand from beneath the Cloak and grasped the snowy and thickly rusted gate, not wishing to open it, but simply to hold some part of the house.

"You're not going to go inside? It looks unsafe, it might — oh, Harry, look!" Hermione noticed it first.

His touch on the gate seemed to have done it. A sign had risen out of the ground in front of them, up through the tangles of nettles and weeds, like some bizarre, fast-growing flower, and in golden letters upon the wood it said:

On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily, James and their daughter, Alicia Potter, lost their lives. Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard ever to have survived the Killing Curse. This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore apart their family.

Guess no one had updated it since. Alicia couldn't help but laugh slightly and Harry knocked her shoulder.

All around these neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place where the Boy Who Lived had escaped. Some had merely signed their names in Everlasting Ink; others had carved their initials into the wood, still others had left messages. The most recent of these, shining brightly over sixteen years' worth of magical graffiti, all said similar things.

Good luck, Harry, Alicia, wherever you are.

If you read this, Harry, we're all behind you!

Long live Harry Potter.

"They shouldn't have written on the sign!" said Hermione, indignant.

But Harry beamed at her.

"It's brilliant. I'm glad they did." Alicia drew her wand and pushed it out of the cloak, much to Hermione's annoyance, as she pointed her wand at the top of the sign. Moving her wand words were etched into the wood above those that were already there. They shone out brighter than the others and matched that which the sign was designed for.

Alicia Potter Lives!

She was surprised no one else had added this already, though there was mention of her in the scribbles.

"Much better."

"I…" Harry began but he broke off instantly. A heavily muffled figure was hobbling up the lane toward them, silhouetted by the bright lights in the distant square. Alicia brought her hand and wand under the cloak instantly as the women, judging but the figure, moved towards them. She was moving slowly, possibly frightened of slipping on the snowy ground. Her stoop, her stoutness, her shuffling gait all gave an impression of extreme age. They watched in silence as she drew nearer. Alicia wondered whether she would turn into any of the cottages she was passing, but something said she wouldn't. Alicia felt a chill run down her spine again and she wondered whether this women had been watching them all since the graveyard…

Alicia's eyebrows furrowed. How would she have known where they'd gone… did she know who they were? It seemed if Harry and Alicia Potter had come here, they'd instantly go to the house. But they were disguised, how could anyone know… perhaps it was the flowers? It seemed so obvious. People put flowers at the Potter's grave, where would be their next stop? Probably their broken house.

At last she came to a halt a few yards from them and simply stood there in the middle of the frozen road, facing them. There was next to no chance that this woman was a Muggle: She was standing there gazing at a house that ought to have been completely invisible to her, if she was not a witch. But her reason for coming to look at an old ruin… she knew they were there. Alicia was sure of it.

Alicia wondered, could she sense them? The Cloak was supposed to hide them from everything, it couldn't even be detected by detection charms, it blocked everything about them. There was no way this women could sense or see them, let alone know who they were.

Just as she thought that, the women rose a gloved hand and beckoned.

Hermione moved closer to Harry under the Cloak, her arm pressed against his as Alicia's grip on Harry's hand tightened just a little.

"How does she know?"

He shook his head. The woman beckoned again, more vigorously.

"We shouldn't follow." Alicia said "Something's wrong. We should leave. Now." she whispered ever so quietly. Hermione looked all ready to agree but Harry acted completely differently.

Harry spoke, causing Hermione to gasp and jump and Alicia to turn to him.

"Are you Bathilda?"

The muffled figure nodded and beckoned again.

Harry and Hermione looked at one another from beneath the cloak. Harry raised his eyebrows; Hermione gave a tiny, nervous nod. They turned to Alicia, who shook her head vigorously. The two shared a look again before they moved on other side of her, took her arms in their's and began to force her forwards.

"It's a bad idea!"

"She might have the sword." Harry tried

"You know my views of the sword being here which means she can't have!"

"We have to check." he believed and Alicia looked at Hermione helplessly. Despite her worry, Hermione seemed to agree with the boy.

She turned to the women, she'd turned and hobbled off back the way they'd come the second the three moved closer at once.

Leading them past several houses, she turned in at a gate. They followed her up the front path through a garden nearly as overgrown as the one they had just left. She fumbled for a moment with a key at the front door, then opened it and stepped back to let them pass.

Alicia looked over the garden behind her, looking at it like it was a sign of freedom. It would have been as though no one lived here. As she passed old women, she held her breath, stopping herself from breathing in any of the toxic smell that seemed to come from the women.

Harry pulled the cloak off and Alicia felt exposed, like some protection had left her.

Bathilda was a tiny women, bowed down with age she hardly reached Harry's chest in height. She closed the door behind them, her knuckles blue and mottled against the peeling paint, then turned and peered into Harry's face. Her eyes were thick with cataracts and sunken into folds of transparent skin, and her whole face was dotted with broken veins and liver spots.

The odour of old age, of dust, of unwashed clothes and stale food intensified as she unwound a moth-eaten black shawl, revealing a head of scant white hair through which the scalp showed clearly.

"Bathilda?" Harry repeated.

She nodded again.

Why did she not speak to them? Alicia watched her as the women stared at her for a moment and then shuffled past them, pushing Hermione aside as though she had not seen her, and vanished into what seemed to be a sitting room.

"Harry, I'm not sure about this," breathed Hermione.

"Look at the size of her; I think we could overpower her if we had to," said Harry. "Listen, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't all there. Muriel called her 'gaga.' "

"No, no I think we should leave. Now." Alicia stated. Hermione nodded and Harry went to reply but another voice came first

"Come!" called Bathilda from the next room.

Hermione jumped and clutched Harry's arm. Alicia turned slowly, dread filling her up.

"It's okay," said Harry reassuringly, and he led the way into the sitting room. Alicia went to snatch his arm and yank him from the house but he slipped from her. "Come on Alicia, you're being ridiculous."

Anger swelled within her as she followed him, wanting to shout but Bathilda was in ear shot, and the last she needed was to actually cause trouble. There was none, but Alicia could feel it. Something terrible was going to happen.

Bathilda was tottering around the place lighting candles, but it was still very dark, not to mention extremely dirty. Thick dust crunched beneath their feet, and underneath the dank and mildewed smell, there was something worse, like meat gone bad. It looked outside like no one had been here and inside as well. It was as if there were no inhabitants within this house. Alicia looked at Bathilda, her teeth were clamped together. It seemed like no one had been inside the house in a long time, likely not since Rita Skeeter had visited. She seemed to have forgotten that she could do magic, too, for she lit the candles clumsily by hand, her trailing lace cuff in constant danger of catching fire.

"Let me do that," offered Harry, and he took the matches from her. She stood watching him as he finished lighting the candle stubs that stood on saucers around the room, perched precariously on stacks of books and on side tables crammed with cracked and mouldy cups.

Alicia's hand was on her wand as Harry lit another candle by a heap of photographs in frames, the flame dancing before them and reflecting in their dusty glass.

Bathilda began to fumble with logs of fire while Harry had removed the dust from all the photo frames, looking at them.

"Mrs. — Miss — Bagshot?" Harry said, breaking the silence as his voice shook slightly. "Who is this?"

Bathilda was standing in the middle of the room watching Hermione light the fire for her. Alicia was staring at Bathilda.

"Miss Bagshot?" Harry repeated, and he advanced with the picture in his hands as the flames burst into life in the fireplace. Bathilda looked up at his voice.

"Who is this person?" Harry asked her, pushing the picture forward.

She peered at it solemnly, then up at Harry.

"Do you know who this is?" he repeated in a much slower and louder voice than usual. "This man? Do you know him? What's he called?"

Bathilda merely looked vague. Harry felt an awful frustration.

Alicia looked around the room. Why were they here? What did this women want with them, and why had they just agreed to follow her.

"Who is this man?" he repeated loudly.

"Harry, what are you doing?" asked Hermione.

"This picture, Hermione, it's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please!" he said to Bathilda. "Who is this?"

But she only stared at him.

"Why did you ask us to come with you, Mrs. — Miss — Bagshot?" asked Hermione, raising her own voice. "Was there something you wanted to tell us?"

Giving no sign that she had heard Hermione, Bathilda now shuffled a few steps closer to Harry. With a little jerk of her head she looked back into the hall.

"You want us to leave?" he asked.

She repeated the gesture, this time pointing firstly at him, then at herself, then at the ceiling.

"Oh, right… Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her."

"No!" Alicia said loudly.

"All right," said Hermione, "let's go."

But when Hermione moved, Bathilda shook her head with surprising vigour, once more pointing first at Harry, then to herself.

"She wants me to go with her, alone."

"Why?" asked Hermione, and her voice rang out sharp and clear in the candlelit room; the old lady shook her head a little at the loud noise.

"Not happening!" Alicia said

"Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only to me?"

"Are you—"

"Do you really think she knows who you are?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down into the milky eyes fixed upon his own, "I think she does."

"Well, okay then, but be quick, Harry."

"Lead the way," Harry told Bathilda.

She seemed to understand, because she shuffled around him toward the door. Harry glanced back at Hermione with a reassuring smile, but Hermione had turned from him and was looking at the bookcase, hugging herself in the midst of the candlelit squalor, as though it would bring some comfort.

Alicia watched him as he vanished while Hermione had moved over to a the bookcase and picked up a book, to no ones surprise, but Alicia was watching the stairs. She didn't want Harry alone, she didn't want to be in this house where everything made her wish she was back in the tent, of all places, surrounded by protective charms.

She closed her eyes and concentrated before she was in darkness, only the light of a wand illuminating old Bathilda Bagshot's face.

"You are Potter?" she whispered.

"Yes, I am."

Alicia gasped and Hermione was beside her instantly.

"What?" she demanded scared

"It's a trap— Bathilda… she's speaking parseltongue." Alicia said and she moved for the stairs.

The stairs were steep and narrow but Alicia ran up them with Hermione behind her regardless, keeping her eyes on her feet.

There was a thud and Alicia hissed in pain as she grabbed her forearm and a cry left her lips.

"Alicia!" the girl ignored Hermione and ran up the rest of the stairs, ignoring the pain in her midriff that came next and the air rushing from her lungs.

There was a crash this time and Alicia turned instantly for the bedroom door on her side. There was another thump that shook the floor ever so slightly and then the smashing of glass. Alicia pointed her wand at the door and it blew off it's hinges backwards.

Harry was lying on the floor in the darkness and over the top of him was Nagini, pinning and holding him to the floor.

"…hold you… hold you…"

"Get off!" Alicia hissed, the parseltongue instantly coming from her lips before a blinding light shot from her wand.

The snake was blasted off of Harry and into the wall. It turned on Alicia and hissed as Hermione was behind her. Alicia grabbed Hermione and the two dived sideways. A curse Hermione had fired went astray and hit the curtained window, which shattered. Frozen air filled the room as Harry ducked to avoid another shower of broken glass.

Alicia turned back to the snake which hissed so violently it might have roared had it been the right animal. Hermione and Alicia acted in sync and there was a flash of red light, sending the Snake back into the bedroom. It's coils thrashed against the wall and the ceiling and Harry was was hit across the face by it too.

"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"

"Then get your ass here!" Alicia snapped. All they needed was one another's hands and a disapparation would get them far away. That was all they needed.

The snake fell, hissing wildly.

Everything was chaos: It smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Harry jumped over the bed, he grabbed Alicia and Hermione, Hermione shrieking in pain as Harry pulled them back across the bed. The snake reared again and Alicia rose her wand as it lunged. Hermione was faster.

"Confringo!" and her spell flew around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back at them, bouncing from floor to ceiling. Alicia scrambled upwards with Harry and they pulled Hermione as the blast went everywhere. The two siblings jumped from the bed as Alicia felt a searing pain in her side, she ignored it as they landed on the broken dressing table, and then launched straight out the smashed window into nothingness. Hermione screamed as Alicia and Harry had her tightly in their grasped hands and the three of them twisted in midair.