“Please be careful! What will I do if I…if I-” Mrs. Weasley couldn’t go on and threw herself into her youngest son’s arms.
It was eleven o’clock in the morning, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione were saying their goodbyes to Molly, Arthur, Charlie, Asher, and Ginny.
Harry was shaking Arthur’s hand and turned to find Asher standing right behind him.
“Good luck, Harry. I have no idea what you’re doing, but good luck with it anyway.”
“Thanks, Asher,” said Harry, shaking her hand.
“Harry,” said a small voice to his right. Ginny was there, her eyes gleaming slightly. She threw herself into his arms and squeezed him tightly. “How long will you be away?” she whispered in his ear.
He pulled away so he was looking into her face. “I don’t know. It could be anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, if not more. We know the basics of where we’re going, but beyond that, we don’t know for sure.”
She hugged him again and buried her face in his neck.
“Harry, we have to go,” said a voice from behind him.
He looked down at Ginny and sighed. He lifted her chin so she was looking him straight in the eye. “I’ll come back, Ginny.”
“Promise?” she croaked, as one tear made its way down her cheek.
“I’ll do my best,” he said, kissing her lightly. He rubbed away the salty tear with his thumb and turned away from her. Hermione was giving Crookshanks one last pet before putting him down. The night before, they had decided to leave all their animals, including Hedwig and Pig, at the Burrow because it would have been too much bother carrying Crookshanks and rather odd walking around Muggles with a pair of owls.
First, they were going to Grimmauld Place to get his parents’ address from Lupin, then Diagon Alley to get some money out of their vaults and exchange it for Muggle currency, and then finally to Godric’s Hollow, where Harry’s adventure would truly begin. Harry and Ron had gone to the Ministry with Arthur two days after he arrived at the Burrow, and both friends passed their Apparation test.
Harry took a pinch of floo powder from Molly. Her eyes were red-rimmed from crying, and she enveloped him in a fierce and protective hug.
“Be careful, Harry, and please come home soon.”
“I will, Molly.”
He was saying he would, but nothing was certain. His mission was dangerous, and he would have to rely on just his defence skills and the knowledge Dumbledore had given him to pull through.
He took a deep breath and looked back at the people in front of him. Molly was hugging Arthur, Asher was biting her thumbnail while looking at the floor, and Ginny was holding Charlie’s hand in an iron grip. Harry picked up his backpack, filled with enough food from Molly to feed a small army.
“Bye,” Harry said quietly, looking at Ginny and throwing the powder into the grate. Stepping into the warm, emerald flames, he shouted his desired destination.
Harry hated travelling by the floo network. As he spun like a top, catching glimpses of hundreds of witches and wizard’s homes, he felt his stomach roll. Suddenly, Harry stopped spinning and found himself in the kitchen of the house he had never wished to be in again.
Grimmauld Place hadn’t changed much. The walls were a depressing grey colour, though it seemed further cleaning had taken place. Harry stepped out of the grate. There was a whooshing sound announcing Ron’s arrival. Harry turned and looked at him.
“You ready for this?” he asked
“As I’ll ever be,” answered Ron defiantly.
Hermione arrived just as the kitchen door opened. Tonks walked in and smiled at the trio.
“Wotcher! I wasn’t expecting you,” she said, as she walked over to the sink, filled up the kettle, and placed it on the hob. “Cuppa?”
“Yes, please,” said Harry. They took their places at the table. Harry’s gaze flickered over to the place Sirius used to sit. He shivered.
“So what brings you guys and girl to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black today then?”
“We were wondering if we could talk to Remus about something,” said Hermione.
“He’s coming down n-” Tonks was cut off when she tripped and nearly dropped the two mugs she was holding. She smiled sheepishly at Ron when he stood to get the others.
“He’s coming down now, so, yes I give you permission to talk to him,” she repeated
Harry laughed, “I’m so glad you can share.”
“Yes, well don’t expect it too often.”
The kitchen door opened again to reveal Remus.
Greetings were shared before Remus politely asked what they were there for.
“Well,” explained Harry, “We want to visit Godric’s Hollow, but we don’t know the address of my mum and dad’s house, so we were wondering if you could tell us.”
“Of course.” He rummaged in one of the draws and found a quill, some ink, and a scrap of parchment. He scribbled down the address and passed it to Harry. “Are you going to visit the cemetery as well?” he asked gently.
“Yeah, I would like to visit my parents’ graves,” said Harry, his voice sounding oddly tight.
“It’s just on the edge of the village.”
“Okay.”
“You do know you own that house, as well as everything in it?”
Harry hadn’t thought of that. “Well, I do now.” He took another deep breath and stood. “Well, we had better make tracks.”
“Harry, could I have a word?” asked Remus.
“Sure.”
They stepped outside of the kitchen and into the lounge. There had been a fair improvement in this room. The old, musky smell was gone, and it even looked a bit brighter. The sofa Harry sat on looked clean; you could actually tell what colour it was now that the layer of dust and grime was gone.
“You aren’t just making a social call to Godric’s Hollow, are you?” Remus asked, sitting down in a chair opposite Harry.
“No.”
“Is this to do with Voldemort and the Horcruxes?”
“Yes.”
“A few months after Lily and James died, Dumbledore and I, as well as a few other friends rebuilt your parent’s house. We restored everything and put it back where it belonged.”
“You rebuilt it? How…” Harry paused. “How much damage was there?”
“Well, one side of the house had totally collapsed, and the rest of the walls had some form of damage as well,” Remus replied.
They sat in silence while Remus just looked at Harry, his expression unreadable. “Good luck, Harry,” he said eventually.
Once Harry was back in the kitchen, they said their goodbyes to Remus and Tonks and walked out into the street. Harry was glad to be out of there and it must have shown on his face, because Hermione asked if he was okay.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just being there brings back memories I’d rather forget.”
“Ready to go?” asked Ron, as they reached a small, grassy area on the very end of Grimmauld Place.
Harry took a deep breath. “Yep, it’s time to get started.”
Making their way down Diagon Alley, Harry noticed there were few people in the street, even though nearly all the damage from the attack had been fixed. They walked up the large steps that led into Gringots.
An hour later they exited the wizard bank, all rather disgruntled.
“That was a bloody nightmare!” burst Ron, annoyed.
“What did you expect? Security has to be at an all time high!” said Hermione.
“Well, if that stupid goblin had poked me with that stick of his one more time-”
“OK, I think we’d better get going,” said Harry hurriedly, before Hermione had a chance to answer Ron.
“Well,” said Hermione, in a business-like tone, “I think we should buy a tent because we don’t know what sort of places we’ll be sleeping at.”
“Okay, but where do you suppose we could buy a tent in Diagon Alley?” asked Harry.
Ron looked thoughtful for a second. “Well…” he said, “I think there is a shop down that way,” he pointed down the street past Gringots, “that sells almost everything. Dad went there once ages ago.”
“What’s it called?” asked a curious Hermione.
“I can’t remember…”
“Well, let’s go,” said Harry.
They made their way down the street and then down a side alley under Ron’s direction. Harry had never been down here before On all his previous visits to the alley, he had stayed on the main street, where all the bigger and more popular shops were. Here down this alley were shops selling things Harry had never even heard of before.
One shop in particular caught his eye. The outside walls were old and cracked and looked as if they could do with a good paint. The wooden front door, Harry guessed, had been emerald green at some point in time, but now was old and faded. It was called The Little Shop of Everything. In the window was a selection of Muggle and Wizard objects. It was quite strange to see a magic wand sitting next to an old Muggle television. Harry was quite surprised when Ron announced this was it and opened the door.
“The Little Shop of Everything? Surely they can’t sell everything,” said Hermione, while looking around the cluttered shop.
“You’d be surprised,” said a man’s voice from behind a large wardrobe. Hermione let out a small scream and jumped to Ron’s side.
The man walked into view. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, and looked around twenty years old. “My family has had this shop for many years, and after such a long while you do come across an awful lot of things.” He smiled at Hermione, and she blushed up to the roots of her hair. “Brant Belvidere,” he said, still staring at Hermione. He picked up her hand and kissed it, while Ron’s ears turned a violent shade of scarlet.
Harry coughed, mostly so Ron didn’t thump the man. Brant looked at him, his gaze flickered up to Harry’s scar, and his blue eyes went wide. “Harry Potter!” he all but shouted, while flashing him a large grin and wringing his hand. “How may I be of service?”
“Erm, do you have any tents?”
“Of course, back in a jiffy!” He winked at Hermione and disappeared into the back room.
“He’s like Lockhart all over again!” choked Ron.
“He’s not that bad, he’s quite…” Hermione trailed off when she saw the look on Ron’s face.
Brant came back into view holding a large piece of yellow material Harry supposed was the tent. “Here we are! Now, what sort of fixtures and features would you like? You can have three bedrooms, kitchen, bathroom, dining room, and living room with everything including beds, wardrobes, fully fitted kitchen, table seating six, bath, sink, toilet, mirror, and a small duck pond, extra charge for the ducks.”
Ron, Harry, and Hermione just stared at him. “Err-” said Harry.
“We’ll have three bedrooms, a kitchen, living room, and bathroom including beds, wardrobes, kitchen things, just a small dining table, full bathroom, and you can forget the pond,” said Hermione, counting the items off on her fingers.
“That will be fine.” He smiled and tapped the material. “There, all done. Would you like anything else? How about…” He went over to a jewellery stand and picked up a silver chain with a small heart pendent on it, “…this? It would go amazingly with your complexion, my lady. Come on, try it on.”
He moved around behind Hermione; she seemed quite startled by this and glanced at Ron. She sidestepped Brant and slid closer to the redhead. He looked at her questionably, held out the necklace, and asked whether she would like it.
“No, we’ll just have the tent.”
He looked a little put out, but placed the necklace back on its holder, and packed the tent away so it would fit in one of their backpacks. “That will be ten Galleons and sixteen sickles, please,” he said, with a once again dazzling smile.
Ron’s eyes grew round, but Harry just pulled out his money pouch and paid the blonde.
“Thank you, Mr Potter. Please, do call again.”
“Right…” Harry trailed off and turned to the door, Ron and Hermione hot on his heels.
“Stupid blonde bimbo,” Ron spat once they were out of hearing distance.
Harry chuckled when Hermione didn’t reprimand Ron for the insult.
They were soon at the courtyard outside the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry was suddenly not in the mood to laugh anymore.
“Are you okay to do this, Harry?” Hermione asked kindly.
“Yeah, let’s go.” Harry concentrated on his destination: Godric’s Hollow. He turned on the spot and soon felt like he was being forced down a tight rubber tube. Just when he thought his eardrums would suffer permanent damage, the pressure disappeared, and Harry found himself at the top of a low hill overlooking a small village. He could see a graveyard in the distance. He hadn’t noticed his friends’ arrival until Hermione gently nudged him to get moving.
They walked down into the village. It was nearly two in the afternoon now, and they all felt hot and bothered.
“Harry, do you have the address?” asked Hermione.
He rooted in one of his pockets, found the scrap of parchment, and read aloud from it, “Number seven, Riverside Close.”
“Right…and how do we get there?” questioned Ron.
“We ask,” answered Hermione.
Ron looked around the empty street. “What, should we ask the tree?”
“Ron, trees don’t talk.”
“I know trees don’t bloody talk! That’s my point, there’s no one-”
“Look, can you two please just stop snapping at each other?” Harry said.
Ron and Hermione looked at each other and then back at Harry. “We weren’t snapping,” they said simultaneously.
Harry just rolled his eyes and carried on down the street. They walked in silence until they came to a pub.
“Why don’t we go in there?” offered Hermione, obviously hearing the music coming from inside.
The pub was fairly empty, furnished with dark wooden stools and tables and a large bar. The barmaid was a middle-aged woman with curly black hair, scraped back into a high ponytail. She had olive skin and eyes so dark they almost matched her hair.
“How can I help you, my loves?” she said sweetly, as she walked over to the bar.
“Do you have any bottles of water?” asked Harry, “And we were wondering if you know the directions to Riverside Close.”
She placed three bottles of water on the bar, “That’s two pounds twenty five, please.” Harry paid her. “Now, Riverside Close you say? Well, you follow this road until you get to the park, then take a right, then a left, and then follow that road until you’re right on the edge of town, then, you take a final right and you’re on Riverside.” She looked at their blank expressions for a second. “Tell you what; I’ll get you a map.” She went into the back room.
“Err…did you get any of that?” asked Ron, through the corner of his mouth.
“Nope, not a word,” said Harry.
The barmaid returned with a roadmap in hand. She placed it on the bar and traced their directions on with a pen. Ron peered at the writing instrument curiously until Hermione elbowed him in the side.
“Here you go, loves. What are a couple young’ens like you doing in Godric’s Hollow on a beautiful summer’s day like this, may I ask?”
“We're just visiting old friends,” said Harry swiftly.
“We better get going, or it will be dark by the time we arrive,” Hermione said, rising from the barstool she’d been sitting on, picking up her bottle of water, and moving towards the door. Ron followed her, and Harry thanked the woman, grabbed the map and bottles, and went out into the sun.
Taking a mouth full of water, he passed Hermione the map. She looked at it for a second, and then pointed them in the right direction. From the top of the hill, Godric’s Hollow looked fairly small. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. They had been walking down the same road for about thirty minutes when they arrived at a small park. It had two swings, a slide, football nets, and a grassy area with picnic tables.
“Who says we stop for lunch?” said Ron.
“Yeah, it is after three in the afternoon,” agreed Hermione, looking at her watch.
They all sat down at a table and unpacked some of the food Molly had made them. She had charmed it all so it wouldn’t go bad. Taking a bite of a sandwich, Harry looked around. There was a group of about seven or eight children playing nearby Four boys came out with a football and started a game. Harry could just see the edge of the graveyard in the distance. He shivered, knowing that was going to be his next stop after Riverside Close.
When they were done, they packed everything back into their rucksacks and started towards the gate. When they were nearly there, Harry felt a ball whiz by his right cheek, missing him by inches. Unfortunately for Hermione, she wasn’t so lucky and it hit her in the back of the head. For one heart stopping moment Harry thought it was a bludger, but it turned out to be the football the four boys were playing with. At this point, both Ron and Harry were crying from laughter. Hermione’s face was scarlet as she grabbed the football from the ground and yelled at the boys.
“Be more careful next time!”
One of the boys ran over and mumbled something inaudible to his shoes.
“Pardon?” said Hermione.
The boy, who looked around ten years old, took a deep breath, “CanIavmaballback?”
Hermione looked at him blankly for a second, while Ron and Harry tried to control their mirth. Hermione jumped when she realised she was still holding the football and swiftly passed it to him. “There you go, just try to control it next time,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. The boy scampered away back to his friends.
“Was that football?” asked Ron, once they were back on course.
“Yes, in all its glory,” she said grumpily, rubbing the back of her head again.
Ron made a slightly sarcastic ‘aww’ noise and took her hand. She elbowed him in the side, but didn’t pull her hand away. Harry smiled and took this as confirmation that they were definitely together. To him, it was a strange thought.
*
“For the love of Quidditch how long is this going to take?” complained Ron, nearly an hour later.
“We’re nearly there, just a little further down this road…” said Hermione, as she fanned herself with the map. As the minutes wore on, it seemed to be getting hotter and hotter. Harry and Ron had removed their t-shirts, and they had completely run out of water. Because Godric’s Hollow was more or less entirely inhabited by Muggles, they couldn’t conjure anything to drink until they reached their destination.
There was a right hand turn coming up. “Don’t we go down here?” asked Harry.
Hermione stopped to consult the map yet again. A few seconds later, she looked up, grinning, “Yes! Finally, we’re here!”
They made the turn and looked at the small street. The houses were small and square, like at Privet Drive, but they were also very different. Unlike at Harry’s Aunt’s house, the gardens were all well looked after, but not to the point of competition between neighbours. The front doors were all different colours, and the whole street looked friendly and…homely.
They walked a little way down the street until they reached number seven. The front door was a sky blue colour. Harry’s hands shook, and he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and let out a long breath. When he opened his eyes, he shifted his bag into a more comfortable position on his shoulder and walked up the path. He stopped outside the door. Ron put a hand on his shoulder, and Hermione put her hand in his and gave it a friendly squeeze. Those simple gestures said it all. They were here for him, and they understood how hard this was. He put his hand on the doorknob, closed his eyes again, and opened the door.
Opening his eyes, Harry looked into the house he had last seen nearly sixteen years ago, though he couldn’t remember it. The hallway was a pale yellow colour, and a single sunflower sat in a long, thin vase on a small table by the doorway. There were stairs leading up, a door straight in front of him, and another to his left. He took a step forward so he was fully inside. He heard his friends come in after him, and one of them closed the front door softy.
Harry looked around the room. On the wall was a picture of a large group of students. Looking closer, he could spot his mum, dad, Sirius, Remus, Asher, Leanna, and Peter, all smiling and waving at the camera. They were all wearing their best Hogwarts robes, so Harry guessed it was from the end of their seventh year. There were a few other photos on the wall as well, one of them being a Muggle photograph of who Harry was sure were his Grandparents on his mother’s side.
The door to his left led into a light green living room. With comfy, emerald sofas and a large fire, it seemed the perfect family room. Harry walked up to the mantelpiece and picked up the photo frame on it. It was a picture of Lily, James, and a small baby with bright green eyes and a shock of black hair. He stared at the photo for a few seconds, watching his dad play with a lock of his wife’s hair while pulling faces at baby Harry. Lily laughed, her eyes sparkling with life and love.
He felt the back of his eyes prickle. He put the picture back and sat down on the sofa, raking his hands through his hair. There were several different personal touches around the room, like the bookshelf Hermione was currently studying and the broomstick in the corner. Ron sat down next to Harry.
“You okay, mate?” he asked quietly.
Harry sighed, “Yeah…I can’t believe I used to live here. I mean, when I lived at the Dursleys, I always wished my parents would come and pick me up, and then take me home to a house just like this. Turns out I did live in house like this. It was taken from me before I was old enough to remember,” he paused and stood. “Just like them.” He walked back into the hallway and through the door opposite the front door.
Harry walked into a kitchen. It was a large room with a table as big as the one at the Burrow, with a bunch of white and blue flowers in the middle. The walls were a light pastel blue, and the floor was paved in white tiles. It was neat, but not too orderly.
To the left was another doorway leading into the study, where there was an even bigger bookcase and a desk with plenty of parchment, quills, and ink. Harry walked into the small room. Looking at the books on the shelf, he saw they were a mixture of Muggle and Wizard novels.
He turned around and jumped when he saw Hermione in the doorway.
“Whoa, you snuck up on me there!”
“Sorry,” she said, “Well, by the looks of these bookcases I think either your mum or dad loved adventure stories”
“Yeah…”
Harry walked back through the kitchen and into the hallway. He stood at the bottom of the stairs for a second and walked slowly up. Upstairs was pale yellow like the downstairs hallway, and there were more pictures hanging on the walls. The first room Harry entered was what he guessed was his parent’s bedroom. The walls were lilac, and matching quilts were on the large bed. There was a white dressing table and mirror, and a matching wardrobe.
He stepped over to the dressing table and ran his fingers over the edge of the wood. There was a bottle of perfume, a brush, a jewellery box, and some makeup on one side, and on the other was some aftershave and a small, black comb. Closing his eyes again, he could almost see them in here, just talking and laughing, simply living. His eyes stung. A single tear made its way down his cheek. He walked past Ron and Hermione without really seeing them. He knew what was coming next.
He looked at the sign on the next door. Harry’s Room! He put his shaking hand on the handle, but couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He turned away. Screwing his eyes shut and taking deep breaths, he leaned against the wall, slid down, and sat on the floor. Hermione sat next to him, and Ron did the same on his other side. Harry stared straight ahead, his chin resting on his knees.
“Are- Are you okay?” whispered Hermione.
Harry didn’t answer.
“You don’t have to go in there,” said Ron.
Harry let out a short laugh. “I do though. I can’t run from my fears anymore.” Harry stood and forced himself not to think about what he was about to do. He wanted Ginny here with him. He put his hand on the door handle and opened it to reveal a room, his room.
The walls were decorated with wallpaper covered with tiny, flying snitches. In the middle was a cot, the cot his mother had stood in front of to save her only son. She had taken her last breath in this room. Given up the last thing she had, just to save the one she loved, because she had nothing else to give.
In his mind, Harry saw her facing Voldemort, a determined fire in her eyes even through her tears And he saw her lying on the ground, her once vivacious green eyes staring blankly ahead…
Harry took a shuddering breath and drove the images away. Another tear slipped silently out of his eye. He stepped over to the cot and knelt down beside it. Apparently his parents wanted another Quidditch player in the family, probably his dad. The quilts were covered in brooms, bludgers, quaffles, and snitches. There was a mobile above with a moon, sun, and star hanging from it. There was also a large chest in the corner. When Harry walked over and opened it, he found it was full to the brim with toys. On top was a brown teddy that was missing an eye, part of an ear, and its nose was hanging off. Harry laughed, but it came out as more of a strangled sob.
He closed the chest and placed the bear in the cot. For some reason it felt right there. In the other corner was a rocking chair with a pile of nursery rhymes and short story books beside it. Harry swiped his cheeks with his hand and looked over at his friends, who were looking in from the doorway. He smiled slightly at them, and they made their way downstairs and into the back garden. It was fairly large, with a gigantic oak tree, like the one at the Burrow, a small stream, and a picnic table near the doors. Harry saw that one of the tree branches had been made into a swing.
He walked down the garden and sat on the edge of the stream. He was at Godric’s Hollow. He was at his house. He was at the place Voldemort murdered his parents nearly sixteen years ago.
His thoughts were interrupted when Ron and Hermione joined him again.
“What should we do now?” asked the brunette.
Harry looked to his left. In the distance was the graveyard. Hermione, obviously catching onto his train of thought, said they didn’t have to go there today; they could wait until tomorrow.
“No, I’ll go,” Harry replied, “We should leave our bags here; I don’t think we need them just to go there.”
They nodded, but none of them moved. After a few minutes, Harry sighed and stood. He walked back into the house and placed his bag on the kitchen table.
*
Ten minutes later the three friends were standing at the gates to the cemetery. There was a tiny church beside the gates; it looked old and care worn. Beyond that were the graves of hundreds upon hundreds of people. Now Harry had to find his parents.
Taking a steadying breath, Harry walked through the rusty gates and down a thin, grass pathway, worn through by grieving families and friends. Harry glanced at headstones of people he would never meet. Some had lines from poems or songs, and some had just a simple sentence describing who they were engraved into the stone, marble, or granite. People of all ages were buried side by side.
Harry shivered at the thought of all the decomposing bodies he was walking over. His friends were down another path, also searching. Harry looked around once again. To his left a baby of less than a year old, to his right a lady of ninety-three. Each of these people had a story behind them, a story someone would tell so they were never forgotten.
He wasn’t sure how long they had been looking, but after what seemed an impossible amount of time, Harry heard Ron call his name. He and Hermione were standing on top of a slight hill in front of a black headstone.
Harry could feel his heart hammering against his ribs as he approached. He hardly heard Hermione tell him they would wait for him by the gates His eyes were glued to the single headstone, made from what looked like black marble, with gold letters engraved into the smooth surface. It read:
1959-1981
The parents who gave up everything for the one they loved.
May you find peace wherever you may be.
We will never forget
Harry was shaking, and tears prickled the back of his eyes. He dropped to his knees and traced his parents’ names with his finger.
“I would have visited sooner if I could have, but apparently it wasn’t meant to be,” Harry said, his voice shaking from suppressed emotion. Tears started leaking from his eyes. “I’m in kind of a sticky situation at the moment…I could do with some help, if you can give it…or maybe I’m just talking to a piece of rock.”
A warm breeze ruffled his hair, almost inviting him to keep talking. “It’s down to Voldemort and me now, and I won’t let anyone try to protect me from the big, bad world anymore because that stupid tosser always finds a way to get to me by hurting them. I am the only person who can defeat him, so I’m going to face up to my destiny with my head held high.” He looked at the words on the headstone.
The parents who gave up everything for the one they loved.
“You did give up everything for me. So did Sirius and Dumbledore.” Harry swiped his eyes and stood. “And I’m going to destroy the man that led you to it.” Harry kissed the tips of his fingers and placed them on the headstone.
He knew his eyes were red from crying, but he really couldn’t have cared less. He barely realised he was walking towards the gate. He felt temporarily disconnected from the real world as everything suddenly came into perspective. Harry could do this. He could win. He would have to work, but he would win in the end, or else his parents, Dumbledore, and Sirius would have died in vain, and Harry simply wouldn’t accept that.
When he reached the gate, everything was in clearer focus. They walked back to Riverside Close in silence, and then decided to put up the tent in the back garden. When everything was finally set up, the trio stepped inside. There was exactly what Hermione had asked for in there. Harry dumped his rucksack in his “bedroom” and walked into the kitchen and sat at the table with his friends. They just sat and stared.
“Are you okay, Harry?” asked Hermione. How many times has she asked me that today?
“I…am,” he said, surprised at how ‘okay’ he felt. “I think coming here just…I don’t know,” he finished lamely.
“Gave you closure? Or a reason to carry on?” said Ron.
“Yes, I guess it did. Seeing my parents’ graves showed me why I’m doing this. But also, coming here, it just…it showed me I am part of a family, a family of my own, and that’s a comforting thought.”