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I'm really, REALLY sorry for the late update, but I was really busy ^^ I hope you like this chapter. Please Read and Review, it will only encourage me to write some more!

Hermione sighed and rubbed her face with the palm of her hands.

'Come on, Harry. Let's go somewhere and talk it over.'

When Harry opened his eyes and his hand left Hermione's, they stood in front of his old house. Harry gulped at the sight of it.

'Do we have to be here, Hermione?' he asked, and she nodded.

'Yes, we have to. I need to get some sense into you. Have you ever been inside it?'

'No,' Harry answered softly. He didn't want to go in there. Not because he was afraid that it would collapse, which it would, he reckoned, but he was afraid of all the memories.

'This will be your first time then,' Hermione said, while she jumped over the fence.

Harry didn't move a muscle. He just stared at his former house. He looked at the ruin. Somewhere, inside that building, stood his little crib. There were stuffed animals, for sure. Books they had read to him. Photo albums, maybe. Their bedroom: the place he was born. It was a place full of love he had never fully witnessed because of his aunt and uncle. It would be so painful to see. Why would he go through it? Why would he?

'Please Harry, do join me. Before someone sees us. I do this for you, remember. I do this for you and your mom and dad.'

She was concerned for him. She didn't understand.

'Harry… Do you trust me?'

Her hazel eyes met his. They were begging him.

'Of course I do, how on earth would you think that I didn't trust you?'

She smiled. It was a nice, gentle smile.

'Are you loyal to me?'

She put out her arm. The sleeve of her shirt drew back, so he could read her scar. She reached for his hand.

'More than loyal,' he whispered.

'Join me, if you are.'

He couldn't deny her. Not even if he had wanted to. He jumped over the fence.

Suddenly, he was in their garden. He saw rotten, wooden fences which were originally there to divide the big kitchen garden. He could see decayed signs with "carrots" and "radishes" and "strawberries". There was a big apple tree, but it was overgrown with ivy. The grass was unbelievably high: it reached above his knees, while other spots had no grass at all: it was incredibly muddy. Molehills popped up from every spot. Hermione laid her hand in his: she guided him to the front door.

But, there was no front door. Oh, well, there was, but it lay in the hall, shattered in little pieces. He quivered, but Hermione squeezed his hand soothing.

They stepped into the hall. When his parents died, nature had moved in. All sorts of plants grew on the walls. Rabbit turd was all over the place. He heard the sound of mice or rat. The mirror, that hang on Harry's left side, was crashed and there was mildew on it.

'I don't want to go further,' Harry said firmly. His stomach didn't feel so well. He wanted to leave. The house stank. There were animals living in it. For some reason he couldn't help but hear the scream of his mother, torturing him, making him feel miserable to the bone. He couldn't imagine that his parents had lived here. There was no sign of them. This broken mirror could have belonged to anyone. And why would he be in the house of a stranger?

Hermione had walked past him. She was studying something that hang on the wall.

'Before you leave, come over here,' she said, while tracing something with her finger.

'I wish to leave immediately.'

'First see this.'

Harry sighed, but came over to her. He saw a moving picture. It was a picture from him, when he was little. His father held him tight while his mother fiddled with his hair.

His inside became weak. He had never seen this picture.

'Shall we remove it?' he heard Hermione ask him.

He could do nothing but nod. Soon he held the picture frame in his hands. It was not filthy. It was beautiful. He traced the glass with his fingers, he smiled sadly but happily. He looked while his mother kissed his father on the cheek. They laughed. Little Harry laughed. Big Harry laughed. The screaming of his mother faded. He could only hear her tingling laughter. Could he remember her laugh, or did he just make it up? It sounded quite familiar. He held this precious sound in his head as he felt himself better and better.

'It's a beautiful picture,' Hermione said, 'shall we continue?'

What do you think about Harry and Hermione visiting Harry's old house? Please let me know! Xx Flora.