Hello people. I hope all of you are doing well. I have the next chapter ready for you. Won't try and keep you any longer.
Interested readers can read ahead in my patr30n portal, the link being available in my fanfiction profile. Check it out. Let me know how the chapter is. Have a nice day…
Chapter 8- Godric's Hollow
An uneventful month followed after the class with Moody teaching them about the imperious curse. Nothing of much interest and Harry was happy for once. Snape had kept his mouth shut for the first time in four years and barely looked at him during their classes together.
Harry was not complaining. As long as the man looked away, he would be pleased to do the same. Snape was not his concern. The man was nothing but a man-child. He had been pleasantly surprised when Sirius talked about him.
Snape was a student over here with his parents, Sirius and Remus. He was a close friend of his mother and was the one who introduced her to magic and told her that she was a witch. His mother had tried hard to stay friends with the man despite him being sorted into Slytherin.
Sirius pointed out that Lily never cared for the house divide despite the discrimination being at an all-time high. James was taken with your mother the moment the two set foot at Hogwarts and the discrimination that Lily was subjected to was a sore subject.
Lily tries to stay friendly with Snape while the man goes on being all chummy with his Death Eater pals, who were the main ones always taking a snipe at Lily and the many others of similar birth. The double face Snape was putting on in front of Lily and behind her was a sore point to James and that was the reason he gave back.
Sirius wore a satisfied smirk as he recalled everything they did to screw with Snape. Some might be over the top, but if the man and his behaviour currently were anything to go by, he was certainly not a ray of sunshine back then.
Everything changed in their OWL year when a prank was pushed too far. Harry was disappointed to know how far his Dad was willing to go when it came to Snape and that was the reason why he sympathized with the Potions professor. No matter who you are or what you do, an exchange of words might be tolerable, but his father hung Snape upside down and dropped his pants in the presence of a few dozen students.
Sirius was disappointed as he recalled the event and Harry's judgmental gaze didn't make it easier. Harry was right in judging the man and what his friends did. Sure, it was ignorance and youth, but that was no excuse to be mean. That was no excuse to be a bully.
His father and his friends might have grown out of it, but it does not change the fact that a man was humiliated in front of his peers and his best friend growing up. None would make a recovery like that. He would not have been surprised if Snape had gone ahead and become the right-hand man to Voldemort.
It came as a surprise to the young man that Snape was a double agent. Sirius was absolute when it came to it. He said that Dumbledore would bet his life on the man. Nobody who fought against Voldemort knew why Dumbledore was so trusting of a proven Death Eater, nor were they sure why he would hire him in a school.
Dumbledore must have something on the man to play a gamble keeping his hands on the line. Something very big. Or, Snape might have been genuinely doing it, knowing all the risks that entailed with playing a double game.
"The man is the head of the Slytherin house and was a Slytherin as a student and yet, what he did requires the balls of a Gryffindor." It did. You have to be foolish and extremely brave to work for two sides where one might kill you without hesitation and mercy.
Maybe one day, he would know what his deal was. Maybe talk to the man and apologize for what his father and his friends did. For now, he had to go and find something to eat.
He looked around the room he had occupied. Harry could not believe his luck at what he had managed to find. It was an accident. He was on this floor when he saw a door that he had never seen before. He was sure that this door was not present till that moment and he had never seen this door before despite being around this area regularly.
In his curiosity, he peered inside and he was disappointed to see that it seemed to be a storage room. The room was filled with old items and Harry observed an elf arranging something deeper into the room. He remembered the conversation he had with the elf.
The elf turned back, feeling his presence and walked up to him. "Can I be helping you, Great Harry Potter sir?"
Harry frowned. "Great Harry Potter sir?" The elf nodded, her ears flapping comically. "Everybody knows Great Harry Potter sir. Dobby be telling tales of you, sir."
"Dobby?" Harry realized. "He is working here?"
"Yes sir." The elf nodded. "Professor Dumbledore be kind in giving Dobby work in Hogwarts."
"What is this room?" Harry questioned, looking around. "I have been in this floor hundreds of times and I have never noticed this room before."
The elf lit up. "This be the come and go room sir. All the elves be knowing this room."
"Come and go room?" The elf nodded excitedly. "Yes sir!"
"What does it mean?" Harry questioned. "It seems like a normal store room."
"This room be very special, Harry Potter sir. I be showing it." The elf closed its eyes and Harry was taken aback when the store room morphed into a different room. Harry was looking at the Great Hall of Hogwarts.
"Bloody hell…" He whispered as he looked around in wonder. "What just happened here?"
"This room be changing into any room you want, Harry Potter sir. You be closing your eyes and think of a room and this room be changing to what you want."
It seemed too good to be true. Harry closed his eyes and imagined his room back at Grimmauld Place and the room provided. Everything to the last minute detail was just like his room back at Grimmauld.
"This is fabulous," Harry muttered and faced the elf. "Does anybody know about this room?"
The elf began tittering on the spot, wringing his hands in nervousness. "Patty be not knowing sir."
"Hey…hey…" Harry pacified the elf gently. "It is fine. No problem."
"Patty be thinking that less people be knowing about the room, sir. It be difficult to find the room."
"How do we find the room, Patty?" Harry questioned and the elf led him outside the room. As soon as the two of them stepped out through the door, it disappeared
"You be walking front and back three times here and you be thinking of the room you want and Hogwarts be creating the room for you."
Harry did as the elf told him to and this time, he was in the dining hall of Grimmauld Place as he pushed open the door that formed out of nowhere.
After he began to understand how the room worked, for the past week, he had been a regular here, spending at least a couple of hours without fail working on his magical progress. The Black Grimoire had his complete attention for now. He had been religious in his practice and had felt the improvement in his magic.
The wide range of spells that he had begun getting accustomed to was a blessing. A lot of these spells had no place in public, but given who he was dealing with, he needed to possess every advantage he could get his hands on.
There were times when he felt that he was changing. The magic he was striving to learn would have disgusted him a year ago, but today, he thought the notion was silly.
'There is no good or evil, Harry. There is only power and those who are too weak to seek it.'
He never understood what he meant back then but now, the words made sense, to Harry. He was right but to an extent. There was power and then there were those who chose to ignore it.
Albus Dumbledore was powerful and Voldemort was powerful. But the two were opposite sides of the same coin. Two sides that would never meet. One used his immense power to make the world a better place and the other chose to use his power to wreak havoc.
There have been a lot of witches and wizards who passed through time with immense abilities and prowess. The vast majority thought nothing about it. The minority though, due to unfortunate circumstances or due to arrogance thread the wrong path only to perish inevitably.
Was he different compared to the boy who stepped into Hogwarts three years ago? Yes. Would he consider these changes alarming? Never.
"You seem to be lost, my dear boy." Harry did not know how long he was lost in thought until he heard the voice of the Headmaster. The man seemed to be amused as Harry flicked his wand into his hand and pointed it towards him.
"Something very important, I guess." The man continued smiling at the young man who lowered his wand
"Nothing like that, Professor." Harry waved off, scratching the back of his head, a wry smile on his face.
The man regarded Harry for a few moments before sighing. "When you have the chance, you must talk, Harry. Talking helps. You talk, you feel light."
When Harry didn't reply, Dumbledore shrugged. "I understand. I guess it is not meant to my ears."
"No sir." Harry cut in. "I guess there is not a better person I should be talking to right now."
"Truly?" Dumbledore frowned. Harry nodded. "None of the others I ask would be able to provide an answer, Headmaster."
"Power." Harry continued. "You are the most powerful wizard we know, Headmaster. A magical titan. On the other hand, despite who he is and what he did, Voldemort is a magical titan as well."
Dumbledore nodded. "And I would be foolish to deny that. Tom has his flaws. He is beyond help. He is evil. But nothing must take away his abilities with a wand. One of the most talented wizards that passed through these walls."
The man appeared conflicted. "I wish things had been different with him. He could have achieved wonders using his magic, but he chose to look the other way."
"In my first year, he told me something that had me thinking. 'There is power and those who are too weak to seek it.'"
"He is not wrong, to some extent at least." Dumbledore hummed. "Some wizards tend to seek out power. In that bid, they tend to tread any path that they deem necessary."
"The problem with being power hungry, my boy, is that you will never know when to stop. 'Let me be the best among my peers'. This thought is an excellent form of motivation which is necessary. You must strive to be better than yesterday. That is how we grow. But a great mind will know where to draw the line."
"You learn new things every day. Good things, and bad things, but a mark of a great wizard or witch is knowing where to stop. Tom didn't stop when he was supposed to. The Dark Arts are an addiction, Harry. They draw you in and keep you locked in, unwilling to let you go. If you give up trying to climb out, you will be lost."
"In an ideal world, there would be no place for the Dark Arts, but it is not an ideal world we are living in."
"Does that make me a bad person, Professor?" When the man appeared to be confused, Harry continued. "My thoughts are different from back then, Professor. I don't feel apprehensive about dwelling on the darker aspects of magic. I have been exposing myself to less than friendly magical knowledge and I find that I don't hate them."
The man was calm. If he was thinking, he didn't show. "Why do you do it?" He questioned.
"Why do you practice the Dark Arts, my boy? You told me your thoughts were different. What changed? Why are your thoughts different? Think. Take your time and come up with an answer"
Harry didn't need to think about an answer. He knew why he had to do this.
"To finish whatever it is that Voldemort started." He replied with conviction. "I don't know why he came after a baby that night. But whatever may be the issue, I will be the one to put a full stop. He has done enough for me and my family. It is time I give back in kind. I would want to make an example of the man in such a way that future generations must think twice before letting their imaginations loose."
Harry's voice began to grow fierce with each word. "I don't want another child to be chased all his life by a bastard. I don't want another mother to beg for her son to be spared at the cost of a megalomaniac."
He didn't realise it, but he felt a tear drop roll down his cheek at the memory of his mother pleading for his life while she was about to be killed. Over the summer, the memory of her final moments had been a recurring dream that always left him sad, angry and empty.
"And does that answer your question?" Dumbledore questioned, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder.
"Intention is what defines a person, Harry. Every knowledge you possess is as good as your deeds. You can be a scholar but if your abilities are of no help to another soul, you are as good as a fool. Learning the Dark Arts is not an indication of the kind of human you are, but making use of said education to cause problems to an innocent is what makes you a bad wizard. A Dark Wizard, if I would use the same terminology."
"The Dark Arts are named so for their nature. A killing curse kills you instantly. A leviation curse when removed after application on a person will lead to their death by falling. Which of the two would you consider painful? The second one?"
Harry nodded. "So tell me? Which curse is the dark in such a scenario?"
"Both of them," Harry replied.
"Yes. That is the point of the issue." Dumbledore clapped his hands together. "A kill is a kill, irrespective of how it is done. A spell is a spell, regardless of what they are used for. It is not the spell you use, but the action is what makes a wizard or witch dark or light."
"Our society is stereotypical, Harry. They tend to look for the easier way out. What is beyond their reach is labelled as dangerous. We have the light, the dark and the in-between."
"But people tend to think of two possibilities. You are light, or you are dark."
"There are several families like Greengrass, the Zabinis and a few are neutrals that suffered as much as the light families because they refused to take a side during the war, but the common masses name them dark. It is the way of the world. You either take a side, or you are the opposite side."
The man sighed, his face ageing considerably in front of him.
"The wizarding world thinks I am the beacon of light. The champion of the Light. They never knew the other personality of Albus Dumbledore before he became everything the people wanted him to be."
Harry did not doubt the man's words. His visage did not betray his words.
"They would be surprised if they learnt about the kind of magic I have dabbled with in my youth." He whispered.
"I found it very hard to do so, but I drew a line. A line that I never crossed. It was difficult. Sometimes, I wanted to ignore any boundaries I had set for myself. The call was appealing, but I knew that I must not slip. All these years later, I have not slipped past that boundary."
"I have made a lot of mistakes. Mistakes that could have been avoided had I been quick to action, but at the end of the day, I am an individual and I am prone to mistakes like every other individual. But there is a reason why I drew a line. I decided to honour my decision. It is easy to break a promise, Harry. But remember that it takes a lot to keep one."
The man stopped walking and faced Harry. "A promise to yourself is something you should never break. Cheating yourself is the lowest form of action a man can do. Never do that to yourself."
"What do I do when I am in a situation where I have no choice but to cross a line, Professor?" Harry took a few moments before he spoke again.
"What am I supposed to do if I have to do something against my principles for a worthy cause?"
The man smiled, his eyes twinkling madly. "Then you do what is right, my boy."
"There is always a choice in life, Harry. A right path, and an easy path. The right would not be necessarily easy, but it is always the preferred path to take, at least to the extent of my knowledge."
"I don't get it, Professor." Harry frowned. "I am getting where you are coming from, but at the same time, I don't understand."
The man laughed heartily, the mischief that was absent during their conversation back in full force.
"I don't expect you to." He agreed. "But one day, you will be clear. Quite the revelation it would be if I am being honest."
"As long as you know where to draw the line, my boy, you will never have to fear drawing comparisons to Tom. You are a better young man than Tom. I would like to think that I am a better judge of character, Harry. My heart has never lied to me. The first day I met Tom, I knew that he would grow up to be a bad human being."
"I tried hard to make sure that things would be different as he grew up, but with every passing day, he continued to prove my initial judgement to be true. I can only influence a student to some extent considering that I am but an educator. I can teach you from what is right to what is wrong, but that is that. The rest lies in your hands. You pave your path."
Harry considered everything that the aged Headmaster had to say and he found himself sighing in relief. He hid it well and pushed it to the side of his head, but he was in a dilemma. The rational part of him was okay with his development. He had to get stronger to fight Tom which was inevitable.
The bastard had come at him when he was a year-old baby and he will come after him again. Why? He had no idea, but that does not change anything.
"Thank you, sir," Harry muttered. "You cleared up a lot of things for me."
"Anytime, my boy. You can walk up to my office and just knock. I offer the same to any number of students who passed through these halls since I became the Headmaster, but for some reason, a lot of my students don't come and find me when there is a problem. Something about me being eccentric, they say."
Harry struggled to hold himself from laughing at the frown on the man's face. Without a doubt, Albus Dumbledore was a man who was easy to approach, but on the other hand, his achievements spoke loudly and were probably the reason why he was imposing. He is considered the most powerful wizard alive, the Supreme Mugwump, the Grand Sorceror, Chief Warlock and most importantly, the man who defeated the reign of Gellert Grindelwald, a man who shook the wizarding world and brought a lot of nations to their knees.
"I can't imagine why they think so, Professor," Harry replied humouring the man.
"I would like to retire to my office, Harry. Do you have anything else to talk about?" Dumbledore questioned as the two neared the staircase leading up to the Headmaster's office.
"I do have one request, sir." Dumbledore motioned for him to continue. "I would like the day off on the thirty-first, Professor."
A pained expression took over the man's face as he heard Harry's request. "I would like to go to Godric's Hollow."
"Of course, my boy. You can have that leave. But do return to the castle by the end of the day."
"Yes sir." Harry agreed as he departed, leaving behind a man reminiscing the mistakes that cost the young man walking away a lot of pain and grief.
BREAK
"Sirius?" Harry called out as he arrived in number 12. He had taken the floo from Hogwarts to Diagon Alley and then used the public floo to get to Grimmauld Place.
He had slept well the last night but come morning, the significance of the day, hit him the first thing as he woke up. Straight into the shower, he went, and an hour later, he was in McGonagall's office who had asked him to take the floo in her chamber on orders from the Headmaster.
The woman remained sombre as he arrived at her chambers and shared her condolences as he departed. He had specifically travelled to Diagon Alley first to avoid any questions. He was not about to go and reveal any clue regarding Sirius. He will not be taking the risk of being lax around anybody. He had promised Sirius his freedom. If anybody hears about him, it would be after Sirius was a free man.
Speaking of the man, he pushed open the door to his bedroom and he was still asleep. The number of bottles strewn around the floor told him that he had been drinking. Sirius had written to him that he was getting himself straightened out and he believed the man. Sirius does not lie to him.
"Wonder how long he was awake?" He closed the door and returned downstairs to the kitchen expecting the other occupant to be present.
"Hello." He roused the woman who was lost deep in thought catching her by surprise. "You seem to be lost."
"What are you doing here?" The woman questioned as he sat down opposite from the woman. "Shouldn't you be back in school?"
"I should be, but I requested a leave. I have planned to visit Godric's Hollow." It took a while, but the woman put two and two together as her mood grew sombre.
"Sorry." She apologized. "I should have known."
The two remained in silence for a while and Harry called for Kreacher. "How long was Sirius awake?"
The elf glared at Harry. "Blood traitor master be drinking from last night. Kreacher does not know when the master went to sleep."
"Don't wake him up and have some hangover cure ready." The elf nodded reluctantly. "Quit your mutterings today. I mean it. Today, you will remain quiet. Don't get in his way. Today is not the day for you to be a jerk. Get it?"
The elf nodded, his face scrunched up in disgust at having to listen to a half-blood. Harry half expected the elf to shoot back an insult, but surprisingly, the elf didn't reply.
Harry nodded his approval. "Thank you, Kreacher. You can leave." The elf, shot Harry one last filthy look before popping away from the dining table.
"You arrived this early in the morning?" The woman questioned as the elf left.
"I couldn't sleep." He muttered. "Didn't feel like being around anybody so I got up and left. I had obtained permission from Dumbledore. I did not see the point of remaining when I was not attending any class for the day. Knowing the students over there, they would be interested in why I bunked the classes than what is being taught in the classes."
"Did you know them?" Harry questioned curiosity and hope lacing his tone. "My Dad and Mum?"
Narcissa frowned. "Not extensively." She replied. "James was my cousin. A distant one compared to Sirius, but he was family nonetheless. I used to see him every now and then during the occasional family gatherings, but that is it. He was different from how things were run in our circles."
"He was a mischievous boy. He was somebody who would rather spend his time having fun than build his alliances, strike deals, and gather favours and advantages to his liking. Your Grandmother never demanded him to be any different and the same with your Grandfather. They let him grow like a commoner, rather than the heir of a powerful family."
She smiled slightly. "He didn't like our side of the family very much. 'Too stuck up', was what he called us. Walburga didn't like that one bit, not like he cared what the crazy woman thought. Maybe it was Sirius who influenced his opinion, but he was right in his estimation. We were not a pleasant bunch to be around."
"You can thank our parents for that. Our mother was a traditionalist through and through. She would rather die than cavort with those of lesser standings. The same with our father. The man was proud, arrogant and a blood purist to the core. A fitting husband and wife. Their daughters turned out the same. Arrogant, stuck up and proud."
"How Sirius turned out the way he did, we never understood, but he and your father were very similar. Maybe why the two got along well. Sirius used to be present here physically, but his mind was always at Hogwarts and with his friends."
"He would have been a perfect brother to your father and the perfect son to your Grandparents. Frankly, I guess that was how the three regarded him. That sums up your paternal family. They expected the best of you, but they gave you adequate leeway to pave your path. Fun, caring, and open is how I would describe your father and by extension Uncle Charlus and Aunt Dorea as well."
The woman smirked. "You have no idea how many times we sisters wished that they were our family rather than the Blacks. Don't get me wrong. I am proud of my heritage and I do believe that I am superior to the muggle-borns, but I was never an extremist. I was fine with them being left to themselves."
Harry scoffed in disbelief. "You expect me to believe that? Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange? One who married the man who is the staunchest supporter of the Dark Lord and one who is the right-hand to the bastard?"
To his surprise, the woman laughed. "Sounds ironic doesn't it? Maybe one day, you will have a better understanding of what I am trying to convey. You will not push it away casually when you do so, Harry. Trust me."
"The rest of our family was not okay with your grandmother choosing your grandfather. Uncle Charlus was the kind of man our parents and my aunt called Blood Traitors. Not like she cared, but she stayed away from coming here because of them. She would have cursed the lot if not for the fact that they were her family."
"I don't have much about your maternal side of the family. Your parents were two years my juniors at Hogwarts, but your mother was popular for her abilities in charms. Flitwick had a clear favourite and he did not try and hide it from the rest of the school. He took pride in the fact that he was teaching her."
"Apart from the general information, I have nothing more. Sorry." She apologized.
"Thank you." Harry smiled. "I appreciate people telling me about them, no matter how small." The Dursleys possessed a sick pleasure in bad-mouthing his dead parents. All his childhood, he was used to hearing about his father and mother being drunk and unemployed riff raffs who were killed in a car accident.
It was not something that Harry believed in, but as time passed, he guessed that they might be right. It didn't change until Hagrid came to his doorstep.
Ever since he arrived in the wizarding world, he had asked about his parents from the elder acquaintances. There were not many that could tell him about them. The Professors knew them as students and nothing more. Sure, they would speak well about them, but it took people knowing them closely to understand how they were.
Sirius spoke a lot about his father, but he wanted somebody to talk about his mother. Sirius had a few stories about his mother, but that were either related to one of their crazy pranks in which she was a victim or stories of her during her seventh year when she began getting close to the group as she began dating his father.
"What do you do around here? How do you pass the time?" Harry questioned. He was curious about what the woman got into around the house.
"We talk." She shrugged. "Sirius has things to share and I have some things to share. There are a lot of books in the library and I take a walk every day in the evening. I don't like being cooped up in one place all the time. Back in Malfoy Manor, I had my garden to keep company. It is one of the little things that I can call my hobby."
"I don't have the same facility in here. The only downside to Grimmauld Place, is we don't have a natural garden. So I step out of this place and take a stroll around the neighbourhood."
Harry grinned. "You can try and venture a bit further and see the muggle world."
To his surprise, the woman nodded. "I will." She replied confidently. "From the glimpses I have managed when I go outside, it seems interesting."
"Wait, you are serious?" Harry choked, his shock growing. "You want to go and explore the muggle world."
"I don't kill muggles in my free time, Harry." The woman smirked. "I would be open to visiting the muggle world. I heard it is very interesting from Sirius and a few of my friends."
"Deal!" Harry shot back immediately. "We will go and visit a few places that I am familiar with once I get back from Hogwarts this winter break."
With every passing day, he was introduced to a different woman compared to the mother of Draco Malfoy and the wife of Lucius Malfoy that he perceived. She was different. Sensible and accepting. He could not begin to understand what the Blacks instilled in their kids growing up, but whatever he had known from Sirius, this tolerance to muggles was not one of them.
"Do you want me to accompany you to their memorial?" Surprise after surprise, Harry thought as he shrugged. "I don't know. I have never been there and this is my first time visiting Godric's Hollow. I wouldn't mind company, but I would not force you either."
"Well, in that case, I guess there should be a sensible presence amongst children." She replied, her voice solemn, but the gleam of mischief in her eyes told a different story.
"Hey!" Harry stared at the woman as she laughed. "I take offence to that. I am not a child. Sirius is, but I am not."
"What about me?" Sirius decided to make an appearance, clutching his forehead in his hands, a tired groan escaping his lips. "Bloody whiskey!"
"Why do you drink and moan about it after?" Harry questioned, frowning at the condition of the man who looked dead on his feet. "Oh for fuck sake, sit down Sirius."
"Hey!" Narcissa glared at Harry. "Really? Is that the language you use at the dining table? And you wonder why I called you a child."
"Sorry Mother." Harry shot back sarcastically and grinned when the woman threw him a flat look.
"Please don't talk." Sirius groaned catching the attention of the two. "Please don't whisper. You know what, don't breathe at all." He rubbed his forehead again.
"Ok. That is enough." Narcissa passed the container that Kreacher had brought in a few minutes ago. "Drink." She ordered and Sirius complied, sighing in relief as the hangover began to recede.
"Thank you," Sirius whispered. "Wait what are you doing here?" He noticed Harry for the first time. "Oh, I am still sleeping." He groaned as he dumped his head on the table.
The two chuckled in amusement leaving the man to gather his thoughts. After a few minutes of silence where Harry and Narcissa dug into their breakfast, Sirius looked up from the table and regarded the two with a serious expression.
"Sorry about that," Sirius mumbled as he stared at Harry. "It was a good thing, you came here. The day will be bearable with some company."
"I am planning to go visit Godric's Hollow." The man stiffened at Harry's words. "I want to see them, Sirius. I know it is a sore topic for you, and I won't force you to come with me, but I had to tell you."
This was something he had been avoiding for a long time. He would have visited them by now, if not for the demons that have been plaguing him. How can he in any sense, go and stand in front of James and Lily?
How can he face them? Harry had been left with his muggle relatives when he had been asked explicitly to keep him away from them. How could he look at them when he had been imprisoned for twelve years just because he considered petty revenge more important than his godson?
"I…" He paused considering his answer. "I… Ok. We will go and visit them this afternoon." He confirmed. He was hesitant to go. He did not know why he agreed, but it was done.
BREAK—-
The three arrived at their destination with mixed feelings running through their heads. Narcissa was the last person who was expected to be there, but the woman had decided to accompany the two. She was uncomfortable being here, but she wanted to be present. The two of them had accepted her into Grimmauld when they had no obligation to do so and had treated her with respect, which she did not expect considering the man she was married to and his indirect hand in the losses they had suffered.
Sirius had different thoughts running through his head. He was apprehensive to come here and that feeling had not receded as they walked towards their destination. He was trying hard to come to terms with everything that went on in his life. Coming to this place only served to refresh his memory of that fateful night. He was here for Harry. There was no chance that he would have let him come here alone, not today.
Harry on the other hand was emotional. The day had not been easy, but Sirius and Narcissa had been excellent company. He cursed himself for taking so long to come here. He should have visited them even before he came to Hogwarts.
Harry let his eyes flit around as he walked along with Sirius and Narcissa. The village was very quiet despite it being Halloween. Some houses had some lights inside, but a lot of houses seemed to be empty.
"It was primarily a magical town, Harry." Narcissa cut in understanding what was running through his head. "A small number of muggles lived in and around the city, but this city was a premiere magical town until this night thirteen years ago. People decided to move out after your parents died, but there has always been an influx of people who come here every year to pay their respects."
"Respect?" Harry questioned and the woman nodded. "You will see."
Just as she finished speaking, they came across a monument of somebody in the distance. Judging by the size of the road they were in, along with several small-sized stores around they were in the village square.
It was when they were close to the monument that Harry recognized who it was. A man with untidy hair and glasses was seated next to a woman with long flowing hair and a kind face, both of them looking down at the small baby seated on his mother's lap.
His breath hitched as he stood in front of the monument. He didn't know how long he stared at the statue, but he realized it late that he was up close in front of it. With a shaky hand, he reached down and touched the entwined hands of his parents.
They seemed so happy. They seemed like a peaceful family who had no idea what was about to happen to them.
He sat down at the base of the statue and picked up a letter from among the many letters placed around the memorial. He opened the letter and read through it, smiling as he did so.
'To Lily Potter and James Potter,
Thank you.'
It was simple, but there was a powerful emotion behind it and he couldn't help but smile. He placed it to the side and picked up another letter.
'Thank you, Harry Potter. May you have a long life ahead of you.' Letter after letter, Harry picked up and read as some stranger wished for his well-being, another stranger wished for his long life, another stranger wished him for all the happiness in the world. There were several letters thanking his parents for birthing their saviour.
A feeling of gratefulness surged through Harry as he placed another letter to the side. He knew whatever took place was a fluke, but the letters that had been written only served to tell him that he had done a great service to society. It was flattering and humbling at the same time.
Reading through those letters served to increase his anger at the fact that Voldemort was alive. He could not begin to imagine the fear and panic that would grip the commons when they would inevitably find out that he was alive.
"Thank you." He muttered as he picked up the letters he had read and placed them inside his pocket. These letters were the inspiration that he needed to fight his upcoming battles.
"Every year, despite it being thirteen years, people visit the village on this day without fail and leave their respects at the memorial. This monument is the symbol of their victory. The symbol of a new beginning." Narcissa explained.
The three reached the cemetery where his parents were buried and spread out, looking for the location. Harry paused as a name caught his eye. Percival Dumbledore, one grave read and next to it, Kendra Dumbledore and Ariana Dumbledore. 'Dumbledore's family?' He mused silently, surprised that his family was buried here.
He carried on, looking for the Potter name around, and he froze when he came upon an unlikely name.
IGNOTUS PEVERELL
The grave was weathered and extremely old from the looks of it. Cracks adorned the gravestone and Harry stepped closer. On the top of the gravestone, he made out a symbol.
A circle enclosed by a triangle, with a straight line running through the centre of the two shapes. He failed to recognize the symbol or the significance, but he was drawn to it. He reached out and ran a finger over the symbol, tracing the outline when a familiar chill ran down his spine whenever anything related to the Peverells was brought to his notice.
He got up and took a few steps back. This seemed surreal, but a lot of evidence seemed to say otherwise. Everything from his dream or vision to the book he read about the three brothers seemed to be as real as his breathing.
He moved away from the grave and quickly recognized the Potter family name on several gravestones surrounding those of Ignotus Peverell.
Harry continued walking down the rows of Potter family members being laid to rest until he came to the most recent ones in the middle of around several dozen graves that held his past.
White marble stone seemed to be used to make up the tomb and both their names were engraved on the headstone which was designed in a beautiful pattern.
IN THE LOVING MEMORY OF
JAMES POTTER & LILY POTTER
BORN - 27TH MARCH 1960 BORN- 30TH JANUARY 1960
DEATH- 31ST OCTOBER 1981 DEATH- 31ST OCTOBER 1981
THE LAST ENEMY THAT SHALL BE DESTROYED IS DEATH
There they were. His parents. A feeling of nervousness broke out as he knelt in front of their final resting place. He placed his hand on top of the marble structure and the dam broke.
He cried. For the first time in his life, Harry cried for the loss he suffered. He was a strong boy. He would say that with pride. He rarely shed tears despite the situation. Maybe because of the indifferent treatment that the Dursleys inflicted on him, but he was not somebody who cried.
Today, he could not bring himself to hold back his tears. Not in front of his parents. He cried without hesitation. They were just twenty-one years old. Just out of Hogwarts and into the outside world with a lot of aspirations and expectations and it was shut down before they had a chance to enjoy life.
"Hello, Mum. Hello Dad." He whispered a few minutes later as he sat down in front of the marble structure.
"It's me, Harry." He smiled sadly. "You know, your son."
"I am sorry I took so long, to come and see you. I don't know why, but I was hesitant to come here. But today, I couldn't stop myself."
"I am doing well if you are thinking about it. I am in my fourth year at Hogwarts. I love that place with all my heart. It is more than a school to me." He was telling the truth. Hogwarts was more than a school to him. That place provides him with knowledge, food and shelter. He would go as far as to say that the school was his true home. Yes, he had Grimmauld now, but he didn't have a place he thought he belonged until he came to Hogwarts.
"I have so much to tell you. So much to ask you. I can talk all day if possible, but I have to return to Hogwarts." He muttered.
"I just had one thing to say to you." He spoke after a bout of silence. "Please know that I never blamed you. You did what was right. I don't know if I was truly worth both of your lives, but you saved me. You gave up your lives for me. For that, I will always be grateful."
"Both your deaths, will not go to a waste. I will not let that bastard get away with what he did. I don't know why he came after us that night, but whatever might be the reason, I will be the one to put an end to it."
Harry's body trembled in rage as the memory of his mother pleading to let him live came to the forefront of his mind.
"I love you." He sobbed. "I will make you proud, Mum, Dad. I love you."
Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and he became aware of Narcissa and Sirius behind him, but he didn't look at them. A gentle, soothing bust of breeze blew through the cemetery at the same instance and Harry could not help but think it was his parents trying to communicate.
A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he wiped his eyes, nodding slightly looking at the marble structure. "Thank you." He whispered and stood up, raising his hand and conjured a bouquet of lily flowers and placed it on the grave. He then bent down and placed a kiss on the headstone of the structure before turning around and facing his two companions.
"I will give you some time, Sirius." He left the man who was trying hard to maintain composure and moved away, vaguely aware that Narcissa was following him.
He came to a pause at the graves that belonged to Charlus Potter and Dorea Potter, his grandparents. He would have loved to know more about the two of them. He let his imagination loose, trying to imagine how his life might have been had the two been alive and were raising him instead of the Dursleys.
He repeated the process of conjuring two separate bouquets and placed them on top of their graves.
"Sometimes, I imagine how things might have been had you two been alive. I would have loved having you around."
He sighed. "I hope I can make you proud." He bowed his head in greeting and stepped away.
Narcissa who had remained silent until now, stepped up next to him. "You don't have to worry about that." She cut in.
"I knew them very well and trust me, they would have been very proud of you, for the kind of young man you are turning out to be. Trust me on this."
Harry smiled sadly at the woman before turning back to see Sirius who was still near his parents.
"Thank you." Harry addressed the woman. "You did not have to come here, but you did and for that, I am thankful."
The woman smiled as she held her hand out and Harry complied, taking her hand in his. "It is the least I could do, my dear." She squeezed his palm gently. "It was the least I could do."
TBC—--