Chapter 7
Godric’s Hollow
Harry turned over onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows, head still swimming from the journey by port-key. Godric’s Hollow? The name sounded remotely familiar, but Harry couldn’t place where he had heard it before. He looked around for the owner of the voice but could only see the outlines of tall, blurry trees. One of the trees in particular looked especially tall, and Harry could swear it was walking straight towards him….
“Greetings, Harry! Let me give you a hand. I see you haven’t quite gotten used to travel by port-key yet.”
Dumbledore.
Harry took the hand and pulled himself up. His head was spinning so fast he was afraid he would either fall over again or retch all over the headmaster.
Seeing this, Dumbledore took him by the back of his arm. “Come, let’s have a sit until you are recovered. I discovered a lovely tree stump for sitting right over here,” he said, guiding Harry to large, smooth tree stump.
“Thank you, professor,” Harry said as he sat, Dumbledore resting next to him.
After a brief rest Harry felt the dizziness subside, and for the first time was able to study the surroundings. They were in a small clearing in the middle of what looked like an immense forest. The trees were tall, thick and full of lush green leaves. Sitting next to him, almost blending in with the trees on account of the deep, emerald green robes he was wearing, sat Dumbledore, who was gazing at him with interest.
Behind the long, crooked nose and half-moon glasses peeked out wise, ancient eyes that regarded Harry with a look of interest and compassion. There seemed to be new lines of concern and worry etched into his old, wizened face; and Harry couldn’t help but notice that he looked more tired than usual. Despite the weariness, however, a strange, youthful energy radiated from him, definitely out of place in a wizard his age.
“I’m glad you could make it Harry. I see that Tonks was successful in delivering your package”I must confess I had my doubts about her idea at first, but apparently she makes a better Royal Mail carrier than I had supposed,” Dumbledore remarked cheerfully.
Harry briefly considered telling the headmaster the whole grizzly story, including Mundungus Fletcher getting electrocuted and Tonks turning into a pink-haired Uncle Vernon, but decided it was best not to get into just then.
“Er…yeah,” he replied simply.
“It is good to see you. Now tell me, how has your summer been?” the headmaster asked, giving the look that made Harry think he could see through him.
As he thought about how to best answer the question his mind was filled with memories from the summer holidays: lying in bed, sulking and miserable; a large owl smashing through the kitchen window; Uncle Vernon’s purple face after reading his letter; practicing magic with a small wooden stick, and (Harry thought with an inward smile), Malfoy lying on the street, bloody and moaning.
Thinking it was probably better that the headmaster didn’t know that last one, Harry calmly cleared the image from his mind.
“Er...it’s been fine, sir.”
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow disbelievingly.
“Well…ok, it’s been horrible. The Dursley’s were actually pretty ok to me though, it was more just trying to deal with…with…what happened,” Harry stammered out awkwardly. The thing that happened, he knew (and was sure Dumbledore did as well), was Sirius’s death.
Dumbledore placed a warm hand on Harry’s shoulder and turned to face him, giving him a searching look.
“And how are you, Harry?”
Harry took a deep breath.
“Well, I’m good sir….I really am,” Harry replied earnestly, finding it easier to talk about Sirius’s death than he had thought it would be. “I mean, it’s still hard, but I guess I just realized that the last thing Sirius would want me to do is mope around and feel sorry. He’d want me to fight…”
Dumbledore’s raised his bushy white eyebrows in an expression of impressed surprise. He regarded Harry for a moment, then spoke, “You are very right when you say that, Harry. I doubt very much that Sirius would want for any of us to wallow around in misery on his behalf. In fact,” the headmaster added, his eyes twinkling, “Sirius would probably prefer to have some grand, final prank played in his honor, although I am by no means making a suggestion Harry.”
Harry laughed and Dumbledore smiled back at him. “It will take some time for the pain to go away, Harry, but there are people in your life who will help you through it. My advice to you is to let them,” he added, and slowly rose to his feet. Harry tried to think of who he was referring to, but was interrupted as the headmaster continued.
“Well Harry, I see that you are dealing quite admirably with Sirius’s passing, and will pester you no more concerning it,” the ancient headmaster said, walking into the middle of the clearing and looking off into the forest. “Now, you are most likely wondering why I have brought you here.”
Harry nodded. He had expected Grimmuald Place or perhaps even the Burrow”definitely not a forest in the middle of nowhere.
Dumbledore continued. “As I mentioned during our discussion in my office before the holidays (Harry cringed as he remembered the said discussion, which had resulted in him demolishing the headmaster’s office), I realize that it has been a mistake to have withheld so much of your past from you. Your parents, the prophecy, your family’s history; I told you very little. I intend to make up for telling you so little, Harry” here he turned around and looked straight into his eyes, “by telling you a great deal. Now, if you are sufficiently recovered, let us begin.”
With that, Dumbledore gave Harry his hand, pulled him to his feet, and headed into the forest.
Harry gazed after him, shocked. ‘Telling him a great deal’? His heart began to race. The last time Dumbledore had shared a secret with Harry, he had found out that he was destined either to murder someone or to be murdered. Needless to say, Harry wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know anything more. Regardless, he found himself jogging into the forest to catch up with Dumbledore.
They walked in silence for about 15 minutes. Dumbledore was surprisingly agile, considering he was tall enough to get caught in the lower branches and had to drag his emerald green robes behind him. He moved through the forest like a tall, silver fox, and Harry was pressed just to keep up with him.
The forest itself looked like it had been there for ages; the trees were tall and thick, and their leaves filled the sky like some giant green canopy. The sun blinked merrily through the branches, illuminating the scene with a warm, pleasant green light. Birds sang happily in the upper reaches of the trees as their perches swayed gently in the breeze. The pleasant scent of vegetation and moist earth wafted around Harry, and there was a pervading feeling of peace and safety.
Harry soon found himself entirely relaxed and at ease. It seemed odd to him that he had spent most of the day sitting on the Dursley’s horrid brown and pink couch, waiting for Tonks to deliver a package.
They walked a few more minutes until the sight of small, thatched houses in the distance snapped Harry out of his reverie. Directly in front of him appeared to be a village, which, if they continued in their present course, they would arrive in just a few minutes later. The houses looked small, quaint and homely. A large concentration of them lay straight ahead and slightly to Harry’s right. There were others scattered throughout the trees, their pointed roofs popping out of the tree tops like little moles.
Just as he thought they were making their way towards the village, Dumbledore turned a sharp left. They began following a faint trail that Harry could barely make out through the undergrowth. It seemed to be climbing steadily upwards.
“Professor, where did you say we were again?” Harry asked suddenly, his voice sounding out of place in the calm silence.
“Godric’s Hollow, Harry.”
Again, Harry thought the name sounded familiar, though he couldn’t remember where he had heard it before.
“Godric’s Hollow was founded by Godric Gryffindor himself. It is a small, ancient village whose existence and location are known by only a few. It is conveniently hidden in a valley formed by two mountains, one of which you can see through the branches over there.”
Harry craned his neck, trying to see through the jumble of branches where the headmaster was pointing. Sure enough, there was the tree-covered slope of a smooth mountain, although it looked more like a large hill than an actual mountain.
“In addition to its splendid location,” Dumbledore continued, “many of the ancient wards and spells of protection cast on the village still remain, despite the fact that they were cast 1,000 years ago.”
Ancient wards? Spells of protection? Harry tried to imagine why a remote village would need such things. Seeing his furrowed brow the headmaster added, “You see, Harry, Godric Gryffindor meant for this village to be a sanctuary. Although,” here the headmaster’s voice became sober, causing Harry to glance concernedly at him, “past events have shown that it is by no means impregnable.” Harry noticed a sad, almost resentful tone to the old wizard’s voice, and briefly wondered what he was talking about.
Harry mused on the information a bit. It was all very interesting, but still didn’t explain why Dumbledore would bring him there.
“But, err… professor,” he asked hesitatingly “what does Godric’s Hollow have to do with me?”
Dumbledore stopped. He looked back at Harry, an amused expression on his face. “This is where you were born, Harry,” he said with a smile. After a brief pause, he turned around and resumed walking.
Harry gaped at his headmaster’s back. The Dursley’s had always done all they could to keep him in the dark, and had certainly told him nothing about where he was born. Truthfully, he had never really thought of asking.
“Actually, your family has a long history in Godric’s Hollow,” Dumbledore continued, “James, your father, was born here, as was his father, and his father, and so on for many generations, with the exception of your great-great grandfather, Robert Potter, who I hear broke the tradition and was born instead in a mountain troll’s cave. Sounds like quite an interesting story, perhaps you could research it some time and tell me about it.”
Harry walked on in shock. His birthplace? Great-great grandfathers? It had been as much as he could manage trying to imagine his own parents, let alone great-great grandfathers.
Still amazed with the new information, Harry somehow noticed a subtle change in the landscape. The trail continued to steadily climb and the terrain gradually became slightly rockier. Soon one of the mountains loomed overhead, and Harry could see that they were approaching its base. Most curiously, however, there were now large, chiseled stones sunken into the ground around him. They were definitely man-made, and looked to be all that remained of several large, granite buildings.
“Almost there, Harry. Actually, your genealogy is the subject of our first stop.”
Looking up, Harry saw the crumpled ruins of what must have once been a magnificent castle. There were more stones littering the ground, many of which had been completely buried under vegetation. Stone pillars sprung out of the ground like ancient trees; once tall and mighty, but now crumbling with age. The castle was now a mere skeleton of what it had once been, but Harry could see that it had once been a magnificent structure.
“Splendid, isn’t it Harry? This is what I imagine Hogwarts must look like to Muggles who accidentally come across it,” Dumbledore mentioned casually as they stepped their way through the stones. Harry thought it would have been fun to explore, but the headmaster seemed to be taking him to a specific place.
They made their way towards the back of the ruins, which, Harry noticed, had been built into a large indentation in the mountain behind it. The mountain cliffs loomed on all sides and Harry could see boulders of various sizes sunken deeply into the ground. Harry could picture them thundering down from the cliffs over centuries.
At last they came to a crumbling, broken, half-wall. It was surprisingly intact compared to the rest of the castle, and had an open archway in the middle of it. It looked as if there had once been a door in the arch, but had long since been empty.
Harry probably wouldn’t have given the archway a second thought, except that he noticed
Dumbledore standing in front of it. He seemed to be studying it intensely, and had taken his wand out. Harry stepped beside him and studied the archway more closely.
A stone carving of a lion sprawled over the top of the arch, its powerful legs stretched as if walking and the noble head regarding Harry with a look of majesty. Two lion faces were embossed on either sides of the arch, each with a calm, serene expression on their faces.
Dumbledore took his wand, and, tapping first the lion face on the left, muttered, “Templum,” then tapping the lion on the right, “Fortus,” and with a final tap on the top lion, “Gryffindor”.
Harry watched in amazement as each of the lions’ heads slowly turned towards the opening of the archway. Their eyes began to glow a vibrant red, and the once calm faces erupted in an earsplitting roar that almost knocked Harry over. There was now a solid brass door in the archway, where only a second before it had opened up into nothing.
He stared in astonishment at Dumbledore, who smiled back at him from behind the long, crooked nose.
Dumbledore tapped the door with his wand and it swung open, revealing a pitch-black opening.
“Well, after you Harry,” Dumbledore said with a smile.
“But…professor…what’s in there?” Harry stammered out, still a little shaken from the lions’ roar.
Dumbledore didn’t reply at first, but looked at Harry thoughtfully. “Sometimes in life, Harry, you have to take a few steps in the dark before things are made clear to you. It appears that now is one of those times.”
Harry looked from the calm face of his headmaster to the black entryway in front of him, and with a deep breath stepped through the doorway into the unknown.