It had been years since anyone had visited the old manor. The last time anyone had lived there was before the accident, when the Potter house was still standing, fully intact.
The residents of Godric's Hollow were at a loss to explain why the lot had never been sold away. As far as anyone could tell, the young couple who lived there had no close family. They had had a small son, but no one had been told what happened to him. They could only assume that he had perished along with his parents in the explosion. No, the only explanation that seemed plausible was people were still too frightened by the house's history.
Most families had moved away after it happened, ("If there were one explosion, who's to say it won't happen again?") but the few couples that stayed never missed a chance to tell the story.
It was just before sunrise when the villagers had seen a tall man with long, flowing black robes coming down the street. The man had walked up the steps of the Potters', and by the light of the full moon, they saw the man raise his right hand in front of him. The door flew open, as of some unseen force had blown it.
The neighbors had come out to see what was going on once they started hearing yelling and banging from within the house. Afraid to get too close, all they could do was stand back and watch as there was a bright green light, and the house collapsed right in front of them. The man who had entered before did not come out.
The wreckage had been cleared away a few days later, and the Potters (as well as their son and the cloaked figure, the villagers could only assume,) were buried in the old graveyard just north of them.
So that was it. The spot where the manor had once been was now thick with weeds, and it would have been impossible to guess that something so tragically- well- strange could have happened there all those years ago.
There had, however, been a man who seemed to have known the Potters, who had come back every few years. None of the villagers had spoken to him, but they had all watched him, peeking behind curtains and cracking the door open, just a tad, all wanting to get a good look at him. He had dull, mousy brown hair with streaks of gray, and they noticed he always seemed to be a little bit ill when he came.
The last time anyone had seen the man had been three years previously. The local parents had had to stop the younger children from going out to greet him, for he had had an enormous, beast-like black dog with him, and they feared that the creature could attack at any time. The man and his dog had stayed longer that day than any of the villagers could remember before.
Now the man was back. This time, he didn't have the dog with him. Instead, beside him stood a woman with violently violet hair, her hand locked with his. The neighbor watched as the pair walked through the weeds, not talking, just...being there. Being together.
And yet, the villagers noticed, there was something different about the man. He looked less sickly than he had on his last visits, and while both had tears streaming down their faces, their eyes still showed signs of- there was no other word for it- joy. They seemed to find comfort in each other, something that even the residents of Godric's Hollow all agreed, was one of the greatest things anyone could hope for in times like these.