Chapter 7 Godric's Hollow Found

Hermione sat in the small attic room that now belonged to Ron alone. He had not shared it with his brothers or anyone else since his brothers left home and he felt very proprietary of it. There was only Ginny left. Ron still preferred his old room rather than moving into one of the vacant ones. There were things that he did not have to share with the others and he staked his claim on the room farthest from his parents.

Hermione was looking at the locket that sat in the velvet lined jewelry box. They had not confided to Remus Lupin or anyone that he had found it.

"It certainly looks like it," she said. "There is the engraved S on the front which is a signature for Salazar Slytherin. We know Harry doesn't have the original and the initials he discovered on the note were RAB. Do you suppose that was Regulus Black? I mean who else could it be but someone in the Black family. Of course, they were all rather villainous."

Ron nodded excitedly. "It has to be, Hermione. Regulus was a Death eater of You-Know Who's and then turned on him." He frowned and added, "He died, a pretty horrible death I would think, no one knows."

Hermione nodded, her stare returning to the box. "You've done really good, Ron. Really, really good." He blushed once again. She had complimented him several times. "Now we just have to find out how to destroy it- OR- find out if the Horcrux inside has already been destroyed."

"How are you going to go about that?" he asked. He suddenly felt very alarmed at the prospect.

"WE Ronald, WE are going to destroy it."

"Oh, right." His freckled face paled noticeably and he felt sweaty and in need of fresh air.

"Don't you see," Hermione said, " Harry's got enough to be dealing with and we have one of them right here. If we can destroy this one then there are only....only," she calculated, "three to go!"

He nodded. "Three."

"The Hufflepuff cup, the snake and...and whatever it was that Voldemort used from Gryffindor or Ravenclaw." She was repeating what Harry had told them and mildly irritated that Ron jumped at her use of the name Voldemort.

"Lupin is going to be really upset that we haven't told him."

"Yes, well...." Hermione shrugged. "He's got a lot to do. Besides we aren't members of the Order and he really can't order us to do anything." She also blushed and Ron knew she was feeling guilty about their secret.

"What if You-Know-Who comes looking for it?" Ron stammered.

"He won't will he?" Hermione snarled. "He left it in the cave, remember? It was taken from there and he won't have a clue as to where it ended up." She shrugged and chewed on a hangnail. "No, this one is definitely one of the better ones to find. He can't trace its' whereabouts."

"Right." Ron nodded solemnly and calmed himself . "You're right."

She frowned at him as if to say, 'Yes, of course I'm right.' "Very well. On to the next step," she announced.

Ron was about to ask what that next step would be when they heard their names being called. Molly Weasley was shouting for them to come down and get their mail and she sounded excited.

They set the jewelry box in the bottom of Ron's cupboard and left the room. She was waiting for them with two envelopes in her hand. "The owls just arrived. They are Hogwarts letters."

"Hogwarts!" Hermione exclaimed and tore hers open. "It worked!. That must mean they are going to reopen it for the new term." She skimmed over the writing just as Ron was starting to read his. "Yes! Yes! They are going to open Hogwarts!"

Ron growled and dropped his on the kitchen table. No use in reading it, he thought, if she's going to read it aloud.

"Anything else dear?" Molly Weasley asked returning to her work at the table. She was making copious notes about Fleure and Bill's wedding and adding suggestions to the arrangements Fleure had already made. She was consulting a French dictionary in attempts to communicate with Fleures' parents.

Next to her sat a pile of papers and a letter from Hogwarts addressed to Ginny. No one had discussed the issue with Mrs. Weasley about Ginny having gone off to Fred and George's and Ron shied away from mentioning it when he saw the unopened mail.

"No. Nothing really, just the usual." Hermione waved a second page that listed the required readings for the term.

"Well, we shall have to talk to your father, Ron. It's so very dangerous to go to Diagon Alley to shop nowadays," Molly said drawing up another piece of parchment next to her to begin a list. "I think new robes absolutely. You've grown so tall you don't even fit into George's or Fred's. You've even outgrown any that belonged to Bill or Charlie." She was writing on her paper and shaking her head. "All the books and probably there will be something else that I'm not thinking of. I have so much on my mind these days."

Neither of Ron or Hermione brought up the subject they discussed in private about not attending Hogwarts if it reopened. Hermione was having the most difficulty in deciding because she wanted to sit for her N.E.W.T.S but realized that what was happening in the world was more important, particularly in helping Harry. And yet, she had campaigned with special vigor during the summer in hopes that it would open.

To avoid the subject Hermione picked up the Daily Prophet that had been delivered to her along with the letter from Hogwarts. "Oh no!"

Ron glanced up at her and frowned. He was eating a cookie and drinking a glass of milk. "What is it? he asked with a mouthful of cookie. Molly stopped and looked up.

Hermione turned the front page slowly around so that they could see the headline: Voldemort Visits Wizarding Bank.

Harry was not having any luck in tracing Horace Slughorn. The sugar pineapple delicacy sat in the window display and there were no orders for it, although it was bought in huge amounts by the walk-in customers. He knew that if he could hang onto the job long enough that he might be in luck; plus, he had no where else to go.

He found that staying with the Huxleys' had been a lucky coincidence. Mrs. Huxley was very much like Mrs. Weasley in the way she mothered him; fed him and looked out for him. Harry was amused by Mr. Huxley whose favorite activity in the whole world was making sweets and being left alone. It wasn't that he wasn't pleasant or kind, he just like to make up new recipes for different kinds of candies and experiment. Harry was not surprised that Mrs. Huxley was a big woman, he was sure she had been her husband's guinea pig.

It was all to the better since Harry delivered the candy, handed out some of the 'experiments' to children and spent a minute here or there asking questions. In the meantime, he poured over the Advanced Potion's book in hopes of learning some of the spells hand-written in the margins and concocting some of the potions. With the help of the book, he found as he had done in class, that he was pretty adept at it. He did not, however, want to try out the spells. He knew from experience that the ones written in the margins might be as dangerous or lethal as the Sectumsempra spell and he certainly didn't want to try those on a human being.

He contented himself with the potions and every now and again, just the act of mixing the ingredients would bring to mind Snape. Harry would find himself staring off into space and become inordinately angry and upset.

It had been almost a week and things were going smoothly when he glanced at the Daily Prophet that was stuffed in the slit in the door. The store was not yet open and Harry was assigned the job of sweeping up, watering the jonquils that Mrs. Huxley grew in window boxes and making sure the candy displays were filled and clean. He didn't mind the work and thought, if things had been different, that he might enjoy this kind of life for awhile.

Then he read the headlines and the old anxieties returned. There he is for all the world to see. Voldemort ! And not a Ministry wizard in sight! Harry thought. Not that they would try and stop him, not if he had two of his Death eaters with him. Well maybe not even then if they were wise. He scanned the article and looked over the rest of the paper. Once again the Daily Prophet was proclaiming that Voldemort was seen in several places at once. Eyewitness accounts placing him at the bank, in Knockturn Alley, even near the Ministry of Magic. Harry growled and started to wad the paper up.

A headline caught his eye. In the lower edge of the paper in a small column hardly noticeable was the notice that Hogwarts was reopening. He skipped the three columns of print about Voldemort and read the few lines about Hogwarts and how it was opening a little later then usual.

That's good, he thought. There are lots of kids like me who would miss out if they didn't get to go to Hogwarts. Dumbledore would have liked this, he decided.

And these thoughts led to remembrances about Ron and Hermione and Harry dropped the paper on the counter for Mr. Huxley, pocketed his wand which he was using to clean up, and left the shop. He didn't want breakfast, he wanted a trip down to the creek where he could sit and watch the butterflies and the fish that hid in dark pools along the bank. For a moment he had felt peace and tranquility. The paper reminded him once more of what was happening in the world and his place in it. The thoughts made him feel frustrated at his lack of progress in finding Slughorn.

"What am I doing here," he asked aloud. "Even if I find Slughorn he probably will just send me away. I can't force him to help me." Then he thought of what he faced and how Slughorn had played a part in it and he grew more determined. He can help me find Snape or tell me about the Horcruxes. Either way he will help me! Harry threw a stone into the sparkling running creek at his feet and scared the rather large fish out of hiding.

He returned to the small shop and found Mrs. Huxley bustling around in the kitchen. "No breakfast for me, Mrs. Huxley. I'm not very hungry," Harry said and headed for the shop through a curtained doorway.

"Nonsense," she exclaimed and hurried over with a warm napkin and tucked it into his hand. "Just a bit of jam and butter on a scone. That'll hold you till lunch." She handed him a envelope. "Will you post this for me and there are three deliveries today. Out on the counter." She smiled and turned away and then stopped and turned back. "Oh and say a special thank you to Mr. Birdman. He always buys in large quantities and always give a generous tip." She winked at Harry and went on with her work.

Harry picked up the parcels on his way through the shop. Mr. Huxley was cleaning the window glass on the door and arranging candies. "Morning, Mr. Huxley."

Harry glanced through the addresses on the parcels. Sometimes he needed a broom if the deliveries were outside the village. The first two parcels were a street or two from the shop; it was the third one that caught his eye. Henry Birdman, Number 10, Oak Street, Godric's Hollow.

He stepped back in the shop. "Mr. Huxley!"

The old man's head popped up from behind a jar of chocolate pixies, a new experiment, and raised his eyebrows.

"Where is Godric's Hollow?" Harry asked with growing anticipation. Have I gotten so near it and didn't know? he wondered.

The man scratched his balding head and stared up at the ceiling before shouting back through the curtained door at his back. "Helga! Where is Godric's Hollow?"

The large woman came through the curtain. "Oh yes, that one is hard to find, I should've told you dear. It's not on any map and for a time it was unplottable but I think I can direct you. There was some terrible murders took place there many a year ago and that's where the Boy-Who-Lived was born. T'was his parents that died," she said easily. "The place became famous for that. There was headless man found soon after but it didn't make the papers like the other family. What was their name? Oh, yes... Potter...the Potters. For a time there were people afraid to leave their homes hereabouts, what with You-Know-Who killing and torturing folks." She shivered and her husband repeated the motion.

"Anyway, it's up the road." She pointed in the direction. "It's a little valley and a cluster of homes, not really a village and they are scattered about. It's really a series of valleys each having a name that has Hollow in it; like Poor Man's Hollow, and so on." Mrs. Huxley started polishing the glass cases with her apron as she talked and her husband glared at her. She didn't seem to notice.

"The first little cottage belongs to Elizabeth Higgins. Stop there and she'll guide you further. Mind that you understand that Elizabeth is a little strange but a very nice person. The directions are too complicated for me to tell you. Just tell Beth I told you to stop. Oh, and don't forget that Mr. Birdman always tips when I send him an extra piece of the candied pineapple he loves." Mrs. Huxley nodded reassuringly and exited the room. Mr. Huxley took out his handkerchief and polished the exact same spot his wife had wiped clean.

"Thanks." Harry left the shop in shock. He had not heard ordinary people talk about him and his parents so cavalierly. He consoled himself with the fact that it had been seventeen years before and that he should be surprised she even remembered it. He wondered what Mrs. Huxley would think if she knew he was The Boy-Who-Lived. Still, it was an opportunity to go there with a task instead of as a vagabond and he crossed his fingers hoping that Mr. Birdman would turn out to be Slughorn.

Snape found the dusty book in the sitting room. The little cottage in the Hollow seemed haunted. Everything was covered in dust but it looked like people had been sitting there reading or doing something, and gone away from it suddenly. Open books lay on tables and a coverlet was dropped to the floor, toys were heaped in a basket next to a chair. Snape knew what had happened and yet it felt like the room was still inhabited. He tried to ignore the whole thing as he searched the small library. Actually, it was just a set of shelves that held volumes on magic and witchcraft.

He begrudgingly praised whoever it was that had chosen the volumes; whether it was Lily or....or her husband. He opened the book and nodded to himself. He believed that he was putting the clues together and could now make sense of what had happened to Dumbledore and what had happened at the castle. It was there all along and he had been too dull-witted to realize what was truly going on. Snape perused the volume and strolled through the house, lingering here and there to gaze out a window or to touch some object in the house. He knew it was an invasion of privacy to even be in the house even though the occupants were long since dead. Still, no one had come to pack up the house and there were objects lying about, like the wedding portrait sitting on a table near the nursery and somewhat out of place. Snape ignored it when he realized what it was. He couldn't stand to see it. Potter hasn't even been here, he thought to himself. He was , of course, referring to Harry.

Snape was doubly pleased to discover a pantry of sorts that held magical ingredients for mixing potions. He KNEW that this was Lily's. He allowed his fingers to touch the bottles and the little tins that held wolfsbane, and scarlet trumpet, devil's claw and stag moss. He sat the book down that he was reading and picked up a cauldron. He began to mix ingredients much like one follows a recipe and found great relief and joy from the movement.

Draco wandered out into the garden, glanced back at the house and Apparated.