The sky over Godric's Hollow had been tinted a pale pink as the sun began to set. The home of James and Lily Potter stood in ruins. Most of their possessions had been cleared out, leaving only bare foundations and brick walls. Scattered around the foundations were newer bricks, and some scaffolding where the local council had tried to build a new house on top of the old concrete base.

"They say it's cursed, Harry," Lupin said quietly as Harry surveyed the ruined house. "As you can see, people have tried to build on it, and failed with every attempt."

"Good," Harry murmured, thinking that it would have been painful to return to Godric's Hollow, to the site of his parents' deaths, only to find a new family living where his home had once stood.

Harry stood in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the empty space in front of him. He had seen photos, in the album that Hagrid had given him. In place of the husk of their house, Harry imagined one of the photos. In his mind, a simple, quaint, but pretty redbrick house stood in front of him. It had an oak door, with brass numbers, a doorknob and knocker attached. The roof was tiled with grey slate, trimmed at the edges with drainpipes. The front window bulged out, made up of three window panels, with green curtains tied neatly behind it. One of the windows on the first floor was being held open by a book. Sitting in front of the door, on the steps, was Harry's mother, Lily, holding a baby, with Sirius and James framing her, leaning on their knees. For the first time in what felt like ages, Harry smiled.

It was strange for Harry to find himself comforted by the sight of his parents' home. Although he had wanted to come to Godric's Hollow, Harry had expected to feel anger, sorrow, and pain building within him. Instead, he felt peaceful and calm.

Harry kneeled down, took a tea-light from his pocket and placed it on the path. Pointing his wand, he muttered, "Flagrate," lighting the candle. For a few minutes, Harry stayed still, remembering the photos. 'Mum. Dad," He thought, squeezing his eyes shut, 'I won't let you down. I will defeat Voldemort. I promise.'

After another minute, Harry got to his feet, and turned his back on the empty house. The sky was becoming slightly darker. He had one last thing he needed to do.

"To the graveyard?" Lupin asked.

Harry nodded. "Yeah."

"It's not too far. We can walk," Lupin said, and nodded down the street.

Godric's Hollow seemed eerily quiet as they walked. Even when they had arrived, there had been nobody on the streets. No children played on bikes or with balls. It was as if the deaths that had occurred here had frightened everybody into staying indoors, even after sixteen years. The wilting flowers, dying from the humidity of the summer, almost seemed to apologise for Harry's loss.

After what felt like forever, Harry and Lupin finally reached the graveyard. The gate opened with a despairing squeak. The grass looked greener than that on the lawns they had passed on the way.

"Keep your wand at the ready, Harry," Lupin murmured. "Graveyards are safe havens for some dark creatures."

Harry nodded, and pulled out his wand. A few ghosts floated past as they walked through the graveyard. Looking around, Harry noticed that some gravestones had been worn down over the years, and were no longer readable. Others lay on the ground, over the top of the graves. More recent graves had candles and fresh flowers laid on them. A few graves even had obelisks and statues covering them. Many of the stones were grey, though the more recent ones had either white or black polished marble or granite with words engraved and filled with gold.

A fox trotted past Harry and Lupin quite contentedly, as if not even noticing they were there. Rats scuttled along, occasionally boxing playfully. The dusk chorus echoed across the graveyard as the birds began to settle down in their roosts after another day.

At last, they came to the graves of Harry's parents. Their gravestones were pristine and white with similar golden letters to the other stones Harry had seen. It was obvious that Petunia would never have spent much on her own sister's funeral, and for a moment, Harry wondered if perhaps his parents had given their Gringotts details to Dumbledore, with the thought that should anything happen… Harry shuddered, suddenly, and shook his head.

Lupin kneeled beside Harry, and laid some conjured flowers on Lily's grave. A troubled look had come over Lupin's face. Harry read the gravestones. Both described James and Lily as bright, courageous, and as the parents of, "The Boy Who Lived", followed by the words, "Rest In Peace". Candles had been placed on either side of the gravestones, and were seemingly replaced frequently, suggested by the height of the current two candles.

As Lupin and Harry payed their respects, more ghosts passed by, shaking their heads sadly, their eyes sympathetic. One or two whispered about "The Boy Who Lived", staring at Harry as they floated past. Night was coming, and where the sky had been pink and orange, it was now a deep blue, and was steadily becoming darker in hue. A chill filled Harry, causing him to shiver. He ignored the cold, and continued to gaze at the stones.

Lupin was still frowning. Harry wondered what he was thinking, and tilted his head. Perhaps he was thinking about the times they had shared in school. Perhaps he was wondering if things could have been different. A faint smile crossed Lupin's face as he made eye contact with Harry. Realising that he had been staring, Harry looked away.

Lupin returned his gaze to the gravestone, and nodded to it. "Lily would have been proud of how far you've come, Harry. James, too."

"Thanks…" Harry said quietly.

Lupin squeezed Harry's shoulder, and smiled encouragingly. After a moment's silence, he let go, then began to stand up.

"It's getting late," He said, looking around the graveyard. "We should head off. Lest we place ourselves in danger."

Harry nodded, remembering Lupin's earlier warning. He stole one more glance at the gravestones, then got to his feet.

"Let's go," He said.