so kudos to razzledazzle41191 for realizing there is something important about the neckalace that you will learn later...and thanks for the review as well as from Blood Thisty Pirate. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: not mine!
They reached Godric's Hollow just after dark and decided to stop for the night so that they could have a fresh and early start tomorrow. Ron pulled the Ford Anglia into a parking lot of what seemed to be a museum. There were two other cars in the lot, but they looked as if they had been abandoned for good. They decided to sleep in shifts in order to make sure everything was in good order. Harry offered to take the first one. He knew he would not be able to sleep just yet. Too much had happened in that day. Not to mention how he was anxious to see his parents' grave the following day. He felt that if he was at the cemetery he would be as close to his parents than he had ever been. Being in Godric's Hollow was comforting him somewhat.
Unfortunately, his mind did not rest. One of them is right in front of you. The other is in the back of your mind. One is tricky opportunity. There may be one inside of you. The last is at home. What did that even mean? He remembered the words, but he couldn't make any sense out of them. The locket, the cup, the snake, something of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's… It was constant. It was the only thing he could think of. Then it really hit him. Tomorrow he would go to the place where his parents' life had ended and his nightmare had started. Something almost like fear crept up his spine. He started to have second doubts. His mind went back to his losses so far. The murder of his mother and father. The cruel and heartless discarding of Cedric Diggory. The disappearance of Sirius beyond the veil. The betrayal of Snape and his assassinating Dumbledore. All these people had affected Harry's life in more than one way. He could not bear to think about what could happen to anyone else that he was close to. He tried to see a way out of fighting Voldemort. He knew it was inevitable. Though it was true that prophecies did not have to be carried out, Voldemort would not allow Harry to live knowing its contents. Even if Harry just gave up and chose to just enjoy his life, Voldemort would go looking for him. He wouldn't leave him alone until he was dead. Harry had no option, but to fight. By the time Harry had gotten all this through his head, it was time to wake up Ron for the next shift. He got him situated and then quickly fell asleep. He hadn't realized through all the excitement that he was actually very tired. The next thing he knew was that he was drifting off into a seemingly peaceful sleep.
They drove passed where his parents house had been, Harry sitting in shock. It was nothing like he would have imagined. He was staring at pieces of plywood bordering what appeared to be an empty lot. Curiosity got the best of him, and he jumped out of the car and crawled under a piece of rotted wood and stood befuddled. Immediately he saw images of himself as a baby with his parents. They were running. Behind them stood a tall man emanating evil from every direction. Harry knew this feeling very well from the nightmares he had had ever since he could remember, but now there was something different. There was someone else there. Standing in the shadow of the most feared man of the wizarding world, was the worthless and despicable Peter Pettigrew. A mere nothing. Harry grew sick at the sight of him. He had been there, hadn't he? How else could Voldemort have found the Potters? Harry wished he had killed Pettigrew four years ago when he had the chance. He was a different person now. He had been subject to so much evil and unjustness. It was not fair. He wasn't even considered an adult in the eyes of the Ministry. Not that he really cared what they thought anymore, but it was ridiculous. He was still only sixteen. He should be worrying about his girlfriend or his final year at Hogwarts, not tracking down the worthless scum who killed his parents and wanted to finish him off as well. Flashes of green started to go off everywhere. His head was pounding as the house came tumbling down right in front of his vivid green eyes.
The traumatic experience played through his mind again. He was searching for something this time, however. He had missed Pettigrew for so many years. What else had he missed? Now there were many flashes. That's all he saw. Continuous green flashes. Voldemort's voice was getting louder and louder. He maniacal laugh growing eviler and eviler. Harry's scar began burning and felt like it was about to split any second. The pain was so immense he could no longer suppress his screams. He started screaming like there was no tomorrow.
Ron and Hermione were giving one another looks as if to say Harry was crazy. Things were getting worse. Instead of Harry gradually having better dreams, they were becoming more violent. As they attempted to wake him up this time, they noticed his scar was glowing a bright green as if he had been radioactively affected. In any other situation it might have been funny, but this was no time for laughs. Harry was going wild thrashing about screaming at the top of his lungs in pain. They felt bad, as there was nothing they could really do. They tried to wake him up, but he was unresponsive to their pokes and prods. The pain from his scar seemed to have been keeping him preoccupied. Finally they managed to get him fully conscious. He explained to them what had happened and then started to sulk. It was times like this when they would persuade him to write to Sirius or Dumbledore, both of whom were not present any more. His scar stopped glowing when he woke up, but he swore that it still hurt.
They asked him if he was ready to go past his parents' old house, and he grudgingly nodded. He was terrified to see what was really there. He wondered if he was going to start having flashbacks, like his dream had provoked. He rubbed his scar a few times as Ron slowly drove over to the house. Hermione was still taken aback from her friend's thrashing. She had never seen someone in so much pain as he had seemed to be. She sat in the passenger seat thinking over the experience and how she had never realized just how much suffering Harry had to go through.
Thankfully, the house that Harry had lived in for three months was not still in a heap of nothing bordered with plywood. In its place was a newer one that appeared to be six or seven years old. Inside, they could hear a woman yelling at someone. They got out of the car, and Harry looked through the window. All the blinds had been shut and the curtains drawn, but there was a little bit of room in between the center, where one of the curtains had caught the chair placed a little to the side. He peered in and saw that the woman had been yelling at a boy about ten years old. He was tall and skinny with wild blond hair. His mother, as Harry assumed her to be, was also tall and skinny and looked to be in her late thirties. She was wearing an apron and telling the child to get dressed before breakfast.
Suddenly, Harry felt more depressed. This should have been his life. This would have been his house. His mother yelling at him to do some asinine thing. It wasn't fair! His life had been stolen from him. He had always wondered what he was going to do if he ever returned here, but what he did was definitely not one of them. Not thinking clearly, he looked around and found a rock. He picked it up and before Ron or Hermione could stop him, he hurtled it toward the window, making the entire front crash down, breaking into tiny shards and fragments on the front lawn. Immediately the yelling stopped. The front door was yanked open to reveal the tall woman. She saw the culprit and went over to him, her hands in a fist. She looked like she was about to yell and scream at him, but stopped as soon as she saw his face.
Instead, she stood back in disbelief. Ron and Hermione had run over to their friend who was unable to talk and started apologizing for him, but the lady interrupted them. She invited them in for some odd reason, and they were about to politely decline, but she was able to convince them with four simple words: "I knew your father."
what do you think??? Reviews would be a great inspiration...and helpful in updating!
A cookie to anyone who can correctly tell me what they think the neckalace is all about(even though i should have probably put that in the last chapter), one to someone who can figure out what Mrs. Figgs words were referring to, and one to the one who can figure out how this mysterious woman knew James Potter!