Chapter 3 - Making Plans
Harry awoke the next morning to the sounds of painful groaning. He blinked his eyes against the blurry world around him and fumbled for his glasses; when he put them on he blinked again, the brightness of the room coming as a jolt to his sleep-fuddled brain. He was back in Ron's room now that the house was full of family members, and the walls were still a violent mixture of orange and black stripes from the numerous Chudley Cannons posters plastered all over them. Bright sunshine was flooding in from the window, which only made the effect worse. Harry blinked again and yawned deeply, sitting up and stretching his arms.
The groaning came again. Harry looked over at the bed opposite his at the prone form of Ron: his quilt was in disarray and one of his arms hung limply out of the side of the bed and onto the floor. Ron's mop of red hair was splayed all over the pillow and, unfortunately, a ray of sunlight was shining directly onto his face. He didn't seem to be capable of moving.
"You awake?" Harry asked him.
Ron replied after a few moments, his voice thick and groggy:
"I wish . . . I wasn't . . ."
Harry suppressed his laughter. The two other beds crammed into the room were empty - the twins had no doubt already left to open up the shop in Diagon Alley. He found his watch next to the bed and checked it: it was almost quarter to eleven in the morning. His stomach rumbled loudly, almost in reminder of how late he was getting up. Despite the faint clanking of the ghoul in the attic above them Harry could hear little other sound from the house. Considering the state of most of the revellers when the celebrations had finally ended, he didn't find this surprising.
He felt much more awake once he had washed and dressed. Ron looked in no fit state to move so Harry went downstairs alone, to be greeted by the deep sounds of snoring. Throughout the living room and den there were various Weasley family members and wedding guests asleep, sprawled out on settees and chairs and on mattresses on the floor. Harry made his way silently down the corridor to the kitchen, where he was not surprised to find that Hermione was the only other person awake. She was sitting at the kitchen table with the remains of breakfast in front of her, deeply engrossed in the Daily Prophet.
"Morning," Harry said as he crossed over to the counter to make some tea.
"Oh, good morning Harry," Hermione said, looking up from the paper. There was a strange expression on her face; Harry frowned as he filled the kettle and put some bread under the grill to make toast.
"Are you all right?"
"There's news, Harry . . ."
She held the Prophet out to him. He took it from her and looked at the cover, and an odd mixture of shock and pleasant surprise ran through him:
HOGWARTS TO RE-OPEN!
Wizarding public stunned as school cleared to open its doors
By Rita Skeeter
There was a large picture of Hogwarts itself, and next to it a smaller picture of McGonagall and Rufus Scrimgeour standing with a group of twelve rather stern-looking witches and wizards, who Harry presumed to be the governors of Hogwarts.
"They're opening the school?" Harry said at last, looking at Hermione enquiringly. She simply nodded. His breakfast forgotten, he took a seat opposite her and spread the newspaper out on the table so he could read the article properly:
In an official announcement late last night, writes senior Daily Prophet reporter Rita Skeeter, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has officially been given the go-ahead to re-open and accept pupils for the coming school year. The announcement came late in the evening from the school's headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.
Doubt had been cast over the future of the school since the events in June of this year when, despite the claims that Hogwarts is one of the most magically-protected locations in the country, a group of Death Eaters serving You-Know-Who were able to breach its defences and gain entrance to the school. A battle ensued inside the school in which several students and teachers were injured, and which cost the life of headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
The death of Albus Dumbledore sent shockwaves throughout the country and prompted many parents to withdraw their children from the school immediately, for fear of their safety. Fears which, headmistress Minerva McGonagall claims, are misplaced, as she wrote in the official announcement made last night:
"It is my great pleasure to inform the Wizarding public that the Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, have agreed to allow Hogwarts to re-open for the coming school year. I want to emphatically state to all parents of Hogwarts pupils that their children will be safe; the tragic events of June came about due to unique circumstances, circumstances which have now been rectified. The magical defences of Hogwarts remain impenetrable and our students' safety is of the utmost importance to us. The continued education of our children is essential in these troubling times, and I hope to see all students returning to us on the first of September."
Despite the confident nature of Headmistress McGonagall's announcement, it has not been easy for her to secure this decision. Sources close to the Governors have told the Daily Prophet that many were extremely doubtful about the safety of the school, particularly after it was revealed former Hogwarts teacher Severus Snape had in fact remained an active Death Eater and spy for You-Know-Who at the school, undetected until he helped other Death Eaters enter the school in June and killed Albus Dumbledore himself. Questions were raised about how Snape could have gone undetected for so long, and what was to stop the same thing happening again. Questions which this reporter feels still have not been answered satisfactorily.
Story continues on pages 2, 3, 4 and 5 . . .
Harry wore a frown as Hermione pushed his tea and toast towards him, which she had finished making for him as he read.
"Thanks," he said gratefully, and took a bite of toast. "McGonagall has changed her tune a bit. When I was in her office after it happened she didn't seem to think re-opening was the best thing."
"It may have been the shock of what happened," Hermione offered. "She's had some time to think about it now and make her mind up for good."
Harry took a sip of his tea.
"It goes on and on inside," said Hermione. "There's a short interview with the Minister of Magic and some of the Governors, but it's mostly Rita going on about the school not being safe and playing up what happened in June. She managed to get interviews with a lot of the parents who pulled their children out of school and they were all too happy to agree with her."
Harry looked down at the picture of Hogwarts on the cover. The castle looked quiet and peaceful. He wasn't sure how he felt about it re-opening - he remembered Hagrid's words of the previous evening, about how the school closing would be a victory for Voldemort, and in that sense he felt glad. But Hogwarts would never be the same now, not after everything that had happened. Harry chewed thoughtfully on his toast. It didn't matter - he wasn't returning.
"Hagrid said yesterday he didn't know what was going on," Harry said once he'd finished his toast.
"Professor McGonagall didn't say anything either, I spoke to her after the ceremony. She did leave quite early though - maybe it was to attend the meeting that decided it?"
"Maybe . . . or it could be she knew already and didn't want to steal any of the thunder from Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hagrid may have known too, the sneaky git."
Hermione laughed as she sipped her tea.
"Well it won't be half as full this year, that's for sure," said Harry. "I doubt many of the parents will send their kids back there now."
"Rita isn't helping that either," said Hermione, sounding annoyed. "But at least the fate of the school is out of her hands. They've already sent out our letters . . ."
She produced a very familiar-looking envelope from inside her cardigan; Harry saw the Hogwarts stamp on it and Professor's McGonagall's recognisable handwriting.
"You'll never guess what, Harry . . ."
But Harry could, as Hermione had begun to beam and then from the envelope she took out a small, golden pin.
"I got Head Girl!"
Harry could not restrain his broad smile, for Hermione looked so happy, but guilt was now churning inside him; he had no doubt this was something Hermione had been looking forward to for many years, but now because of him she wouldn't even be going back to Hogwarts . . .
"Congratulations Hermione, no-one deserves it more than you."
"Thank you! I'd always hoped I'd get it, even though there were some other strong contenders. I thought Rachel Murray in Ravenclaw would be a shoe-in."
Harry got up and wandered over to the counter where, amongst the rest of the Weasley's post (including a bright yellow envelope which proclaimed "Are your pixies a pest MR ARTHUR WEAZLIE?") he found his own official Hogwarts letter, nestled next to Ron and Ginny's. He took it back to the table and ripped it open, and as he did something fell out onto the table which gleamed in the sunlight coming in through the window.
"Oh, Harry!"
"You're kidding me?" Harry said, picking up the golden pin and turning it so he could regard the Hogwarts crest engraved on the front.
"Head Boy!" Hermione squealed. Her eyes were wide and both hands were pressed to her mouth in surprise, and Harry would have laughed had he not been in complete shock at the sight of the small pin he was now holding. What was McGonagall thinking? Him, be Head Boy? He'd never even been a prefect! Why in Merlin's name would she have picked him?
"She picked you for a reason, Harry," Hermione said, reading his thoughts for perhaps the millionth time since they'd met.
"I just," Harry began, and then stopped. "I just don't think I deserve it."
"Of course you do, don't be silly."
Harry smiled weakly and pulled out two sheets of parchment from the envelope. One was the standard letter listing the books that would be required for his final year from Professor Flitwick, who was now Deputy Headmaster, but the other was from Professor McGonagall. In it she congratulated him for being picked for Head Boy and explained the duties the position required him to perform, and invited him and Hermione to meet with her after the arrival banquet to discuss it further. Harry folded it back up again and placed it back inside the envelope, but put the pin into his pocket. Hermione was smiling at him rather wistfully.
"What's wrong?" he asked her.
"Nothing," she said, but Harry thought that was a white lie. He was sure she was feeling sad about not going back to Hogwarts to be Head Girl. The guilt swirled inside him again, so he hastily changed the subject to the celebrations of the previous night and they spent the next twenty minutes laughing over the funnier moments as the occupants of The Burrow began to wake up. Mrs Weasley appeared looking remarkably fresh and alert considering her tipsy state when Harry had seen her last and insisted on cooking them both a second breakfast. Slowly but surely various Weasley family members and wedding guests began to emerge into the kitchen, tempted out of their slumber by the smells of frying bacon and sausages, and soon the room was filled with the sounds of conversation, eating and Mrs Weasley shrieking with excitement when Ginny arrived and opened her letter to find a red-and-gold Prefect badge inside. Ginny eventually managed to escape from Mrs Weasley's hugs and trilling and joined Harry and Hermione at the table.
"Congratulations, Ginny," Hermione said.
"Thanks," said Ginny. "This is a bit of a shock, I thought I'd cast one too many Bat-Bogey Hexes to get Prefect."
"Harry and I got Head Boy and Girl!" Hermione nearly shrieked, seemingly unable to contain it any longer. This set Mrs Weasley off, and Ginny grinned as Harry and Hermione were now treated to their own bone-crushing hugs. Mr Weasley arrived looking rather under the weather but glowed with delight when he heard their news.
"Hogwarts is re-opening then? That's great news, great news . . . Molly, what was that sobering charm, I never got the hang of it . . ."
Mrs Weasley tapped her wand lightly on his head and said "Inebrius!", and Mr Weasley instantly took on his normal, cheery expression.
"Thank you my dear, you always know how to fix a hangover - oho! Looks like I'm not the only one who could use it!"
Ron had entered the kitchen, shuffling forward sloth-like and still wearing the bleary, pain-filled expression he'd had whilst slumped in bed.
"Mum," he groaned, "help me . . ."
Mrs Weasley's look was stern, but Harry thought he detected a hint of humour in her expression.
"You'll get no help from me Ronald Weasley," she chastised. "If you don't know the sobering charm then you shouldn't drink so much."
"Dad . . ." Ron said, pleadingly. Mr Weasley was grinning broadly.
"Sorry son, but your mother is right. I've never been good at that spell anyway."
Ron slumped into the chair next to Harry, defeated, but after a few moments he brightened up slightly when Mrs Weasley pushed a large plate of bacon and eggs in front of him; her cruelty only extended so far.
As morning grew into early afternoon Harry began to get anxious. Now that the wedding was over it was time for the three of them to talk about their plans, but it was proving very hard to escape from the chaotic scene of noise and laughter filling the Burrow now that all of Weasleys' remaining relatives and wedding guests were up and about. It was close to two o'clock before Harry was finally able to extricate himself from the questions and good-natured conversations continually fired at him and find Ron and Hermione to tell them that it was time to talk.
The three of them walked out into another oddly cool summer's day, the sun shining brightly above them but there was a distinct chill in the air and a steady breeze that ruffled their clothes and hair as they crossed the back yard. The silvery hint of the ever-present fog glinted through the patchy clouds. Harry walked slightly ahead of them, deep in thought and subconsciously turning over his Head Boy badge in one hand. His mind was in a turmoil, aware that the three of them were about to have possibly one of the most important conversations of their lives. Ron and Hermione were counting on him to have a plan, a definitive layout of what they were going to do. Though Harry had thought of little else lately, he was worried that he was about to disappoint them.
Behind him Ron moaned again, for possibly the hundredth time that day as his hangover tormented him. Hermione took pity on him and took out her wand; with a soft tap on his forehead she cast the sobering charm Mrs Weasley had denied him.
"Oh that's better," Ron said, rubbing his temples. "Thanks a million, Hermione."
"You'll have to learn it yourself for next time," Hermione chided him.
"I will, trust me. I'm going to have Fred and George for this."
Harry led them to the remains of the tree where he and Hermione had sat when she had first arrived. Ron looked wistfully at the charred stump and gave the blackened trunk a consolatory pat before sitting down against it. Harry sat not far away from him with his back to the stone wall and Hermione sat down cross-legged on the grass between them so they formed a rudimentary triangle.
And then they waited.
Harry sat with his head down, absent-mindedly picking at the grass as he mulled things over, how to begin. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. When Harry finally looked up at them, Hermione smiled at him and Ron nodded, and Harry was grateful to them. He knew they were telling him that they would wait for him to start, and that they would let him speak without interruption. Or not too much interruption, he thought was more likely. This made him smile.
"I want to thank you both," Harry said finally, looking to them. "What lies ahead is, well, bloody scary and . . . well, you both know that I'd still rather be doing this on my own and not putting you in danger. But to know that you'll be there with me and I don't have to do it on my own . . . it means so much to me. You're the best friends anyone could wish for."
Both Hermione and Ron went pink.
"Blimey Harry, enough of the mushy stuff!" said Ron.
"Sorry," Harry replied, grinning a little, but then the serious look on his face returned and he paused again before continuing.
"You know what needs to be done. There are four more Horcruxes out there somewhere and I - we - need to find them and destroy them. Until they're destroyed Voldemort is unstoppable."
Ron was getting a bit better - his twitch at Voldemort's name wasn't quite as noticeable as it used to be.
"So," Harry went on, "we're going to need somewhere to stay, somewhere safe where can do our research and practise spells and things."
"A base of operations, like?" Ron asked.
"Exactly. The obvious choice is Grimmauld Place, because it belongs to me now and has just about every ward you can think of on it. But to be honest, I don't want to go back there."
"It still might not be safe," added Hermione.
"That's right," nodded Harry. "Bellatrix" - he spoke her name with hate - "may be able to find it because of Kreacher. Nothing has happened so far, but we can't take any chances. So I thought I'd buy a house somewhere in Muggle London."
Ron and Hermione both began to open their mouths to speak but Harry silenced them with a wave.
"I can afford it easily," he said. "We'll get something not too far from Diagon Alley, so that we can get to the Wizarding Library easily. We'll have to learn how to make the house Unplottable and do some of the other protective wards on it, but I think it'll be quite good. With so many Muggles around we should be able to blend right in."
Harry looked at them both. That was it, his great plan. He waited.
"Well?" he asked eventually.
Hermione looked at Ron. She clearly wanted him to go first.
"It sounds all right to me mate," Ron told him. "We'll have a roof over our heads, that's the important thing."
Harry felt some of the weight on his chest lift.
"Hermione?"
She looked at him, seemingly unsure of how to reply.
"It's a good plan, Harry," she said at last. "I know you've given it a lot of thought and there's nothing essentially wrong with it; I'm sure we'd be able to perform the wards and make a Muggle house safe to work from."
Harry felt the weight reattaching itself to his chest. He could tell from her tone that there was more she wanted to say, but was afraid of hurting his feelings.
"What do you think we should do, Hermione?" he asked her earnestly.
She bit her lip.
"Harry, I . . ."
"It's all right," Harry told her. "Just tell us."
She looked directly at him.
"I think we should go back to Hogwarts."
Both Harry and Ron's eyes widened in surprise, and Harry blinked a few times. He had not been expecting her to say that.
"Hear me out," Hermione said, glancing between the both of them. "Harry, I know that you don't want to go back there, and I don't blame you. It won't be the same as before . . . it'll never be the same as before. But I think it's the best option for us."
"Okay," said Harry. "Why?"
"I agree with what Professor McGonagall said in her statement in the Daily Prophet - Hogwarts is still the safest place for us, for any witch or wizard, in the country. The way that Malfoy was able to get the Death Eaters in was a fluke. A terrible one," she added, seeing the anger in Harry's eyes at the mention of Malfoy, "but still a fluke. Professor McGonagall said that it had been rectified - the vanishing cabinet will have been destroyed for sure. There's no way anything like that will happen again, Harry. I'm sure of it. Hogwarts is the safest place for us."
Harry sat in silence, considering it.
"We'd still be able to go out, to get books or supplies and things wouldn't we?" Ron interjected. "Now that we can all Apparate. All we'd need to do is pop down to Hogsmeade, we could Apparate from there to Diagon Alley and get whatever we need then go straight back."
Hermione nodded at him.
"Being Head Boy and Girl means we don't have to worry about being out of bed late, we'd have practically free run of the castle," said Hermione. "We can use the evenings and weekends to do our research and to investigate anywhere we think a Horcrux might be hidden."
Harry turned what Hermione was saying over in his head.
"Going back there, it means carrying on with schoolwork and NEWTs and everything," Harry told her. "I'm not interested in that anymore. All I want to do is find the Horcruxes and get this finished. Transfiguration and Potions is just going to get in the way of what's important."
"It could," Hermione admitted, "but I'm not saying you need to apply yourself fully to the school side of things. As long as you keep your grades up enough not to fail-"
Ron sniggered loudly.
"Sorry," he said. "I just never thought I'd see the day that you'd actually encourage us not to do schoolwork."
"Yeah," Harry agreed, grinning. "Head Girl too, what an example you're setting."
Hermione glared at them both, but grinned as well. Harry's grin soon faded though.
"What you're saying does make sense," he said, and then sadness filled his voice. "I just really don't want to go back there, Hermione."
"I know, Harry. I know. But there's one more thing I want you to consider . . ."
Harry looked at her, as did Ron.
"V-Voldemort," she said. "As far as you know Harry, he has no idea that you know about the Horcruxes, right?"
"Right," Harry agreed. "Dumbledore believed that. He believed that Voldemort wouldn't be able to feel that some of the Horcruxes had been destroyed, either."
"Right," said Hermione. "So it's of vital importance that we keep what we're doing a secret. If V-Voldemort found out that we were actively seeking the Horcruxes he'd come for us, no matter where we are. We need to carry on as normally as possible, so Harry how do you think it's going to look when you don't go back to Hogwarts, now that it's re-opened? It's bound to make the Prophet."
Harry felt winded. It hadn't even crossed his mind.
"If he finds out that you haven't gone back he's going to know you're up to something. He might not guess exactly what that something is, but he'll still know. If we go back to Hogwarts, go to lessons, do our Head Boy and Girl duties, he'll be none the wiser. We'll be safe, and we can still do our research on the Horcruxes in secret."
Harry sat in silence, contemplating Hermione's words. She was, as always, right. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid to overlook something as important as that. Of course it would be big news to the Prophet if the Chosen One wasn't returning to Hogwarts . . . Voldemort would have his eyes open for him. If they were seen frequenting Diagon Alley and Muggle London, he would know they were up to something. Why hadn't he realised that?
Because you're not Hermione, the familiar voice inside his head told him. She's the smart one, remember?
"Harry?"
Ron's voice. He didn't know how long he had been lost in his thoughts.
"What do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked him.
"I think you're right, Hermione," he answered, looking from her to Ron and back again. "I can't believe I didn't think about that, but you're right. Voldemort can't find out what we're doing . . . if that means us going back to Hogwarts, then we're going back to Hogwarts."
Hermione smiled, and Ron nodded his approval.
"It won't be easy, being back there," Harry told them. "But we'll get through it."
"That's the spirit, mate," said Ron.
"You always know what to do," Harry said to Hermione, smiling at her. She went a bit pink again.
"Well that's sorted then," Ron said. "But what are we going to do about the Horcruxes themselves? We know bugger all about them."
"We're going to have to find out everything we can," Harry said, nodding his agreement with Ron. "It won't be easy. We won't find anything about them in the Hogwarts library, not even in the restricted section. We need to start practising some new spells too - ones that will help us detect concealed magic, things like that. The way Dumbledore found the entrance in the cave . . ."
Harry trailed off, his thoughts going back to that fateful night.
"I had an idea as well," Ron said, sounding a bit nervous all of a sudden. Harry and Hermione both looked to him.
"I don't know how good it is," Ron told them, "we might not even be able to make it work, but it might be worth having a go anyway. I mean, every advantage helps, right?"
"What's your idea, Ron?" Hermione asked kindly.
"Well," he replied, looking from Harry to Hermione and back, "I was thinking that maybe we should have a go at becoming Animagi."
Harry and Hermione shared a surprised look.
"I know it's difficult to do, and it would all depend on what animal we turned into because you don't know what it's going to be until the first time you do it, but it might be helpful if ever we're trying to sneak around somewhere. Nobody's going to be suspicious of a cat or a dog or a bird or something. What do you reckon?"
Ron was glancing between them, looking very nervous indeed.
"Ron that's a brilliant idea!" Hermione told him, smiling at him. "Like you said it could be very useful if we were trying to be stealthy . . . what do you think Harry?"
"I say we do it," said Harry, grinning. "Nice one, Ron."
Ron seemed much more cheerful now that they thought his idea was worthwhile.
"Harry's Dad and Sirius managed it," he said. "I'm sure we could do it too . . . I might turn into a dragon!" he said suddenly. "Imagine that!"
Harry and Hermione both laughed.
"That wouldn't be very conspicuous," Hermione giggled.
"No but I could kick some arse though," Ron grinned.
"That's agreed then," said Harry. "Because it's your idea Ron, you can be in charge of it. Research into how you become an Animagus and any supplies we'll need."
Ron's chest puffed out a little bit. He clearly felt important and Harry was glad; he wanted them both to know they were just as important as him in this.
"What are you and Hermione going to do while I'm doing that?" Ron asked.
"Oh, well, I'm . . ." Hermione began, but her cheeks flushed slightly and she looked to Harry. He could tell she wasn't sure if he wanted Ron to know or not.
"Hermione's going to help me to do Occlumency again," Harry told Ron, who frowned.
"Occlumency?" asked Ron. "What does Hermione know about Occlumency? No offense," he directed at her.
"I don't," she replied. "I'm going to learn Legilimency. If I can do that, I can use it to try and break into Harry's mind and then he can practise Occlumency to repel me."
"Right," Ron said, seemingly appeased but Harry thought he detected a certain tone of . . . something, in his voice. Perhaps he felt hurt that Harry had not asked him to help with Occlumency, but Harry suspected that it might be a touch of jealousy that he would probably be spending a lot of time alone with Hermione while they practised. He hoped that wasn't going to develop into a problem.
"Right then," Harry said. "We've got a plan."
"We've got a plan," Ron agreed.
"A good plan," added Hermione.
That seemed to settle it. Harry stood up and brushed the grass off of his jeans.
"I'm, well, going to visit Godric's Hollow later," he told them. "Do you want to come?"
"Of course we'll come, Harry," Hermione replied.
Harry nodded and the three of them walked back towards the Burrow. The weight on Harry's chest was completely lifted now, and for the millionth time he felt grateful to have such brilliant friends.
"You know what mate, to be honest I'm glad we're going back to Hogwarts," Ron admitted as they crossed the lawn.
"Why's that?" asked Harry.
"I wasn't looking forward to telling Mum I was dropping out of school."
Ron had gone red, and Harry and Hermione both laughed. A little further on Harry reached out an arm and stopped Ron as Hermione entered the Burrow ahead of them.
"Wait a moment," Harry told him. "I've got something to give you."
Ron frowned curiously as Harry dug inside one of the pockets of his jeans and then produced a small red and gold pin which bore the Gryffindor lion above two crossed broomsticks.
"Quidditch Captain?" Ron said, beginning to shake his head.
"I want you to have it, Ron."
"No mate, I can't," Ron said, still shaking his head. "You earned that, it's yours."
"I'm not going to be playing Quidditch this year, as important as it is to keep things looking normal. With all the research to do and the Occlumency practise on top of the schoolwork, I don't think I'll have time for it. Not to mention Head Boy duties."
"Never thought you'd be Head Boy," Ron said, grinning. Harry grinned back.
"I know. But still, there's no reason why you shouldn't keep playing. You're a great tactician and you'll make a great Captain. I'm asking so much of you and Hermione this year, you both deserve to have something you can still enjoy. I want you to have this, Ron."
"Harry, mate, I appreciate what you're doing but I just can't accept it. It's your badge."
"Ron, if you don't take it then I'm going to give it to Ginny, and then she'll be able to boss you around on the pitch."
Ron considered this for a few moments and then snatched the pin out of Harry's hand.
"Bugger that."
* * *
With three soft pops Harry, Ron and Hermione appeared at the top of a wide, grassy hill. The countryside was spread out around them, a patchwork of fields and trees. A bare and rutted track in the grass led away from where the trio stood, down one side of the hill and towards a smattering of buildings in the distance. Godric's Hollow could not be considered a village; it was too small for that. Hamlet was a much better fit, Harry thought as he looked down upon it. He could see a few small clusters of what appeared to be thatched cottages nestled close together. There were one or two larger buildings which he thought were most likely to be a pub and shops, and furthest away from the houses stood what was obviously a church with a tall pointed spire. He couldn't see anyone moving around, but thin trails of smoke were drifting up from a few of the chimneys suggesting that they weren't alone.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked softly from behind him.
"Yeah," he told her. "Let's go."
They followed the path down the hill, the breeze ruffling their black travelling cloaks. Soon they were walking up the main street which was cobbled and cracked, passing the neat cottages on either side. The gardens were all neatly tendered but to Harry it seemed much more natural and pleasant than the spotless lawns of Privet Drive. Although they didn't see any residents as they passed by they could hear the odd snippet of radio broadcasts coming through open windows. Birds chirruped softly from a large oak tree at the corner of the road. There was a great sense of peace here.
"It's lovely, isn't it?" Hermione said quietly.
Harry nodded. This could have been his home, had things been different. He wondered what it would have been like to grow up here.
"It's down this path, isn't it?" Ron asked.
They had come to a slightly overgrown path that wound its way between two of the cottages. Harry nodded at him, and led the way. Lupin had told them where to find Godric's Hollow, and what remained of Harry's old house. It didn't take long. The path led them between the houses, around a copse of tall trees and then there, suddenly it was.
There was very little left. The house had burned down, Harry knew, and now sixteen years had passed. The thick ashes and the bits of skeletal structure that remained had faded from black to a very dark grey. Harry's emotions were swirling around inside him. It was here where his parents had died. Here where Voldemort had murdered them. He must have walked down the very path they just had.
"The Muggles never did anything about it?" Ron asked quietly, gesturing to the burnt remains.
"I don't think they can," Hermione answered. "I'm not too sure, but I think the land belonged to Harry's parents along with the house. It belongs to Harry now."
Harry had never even considered this. He didn't want to. Not yet.
"Let's go to the church," Harry said. He had seen enough here.
They walked back down the path and turned to their right, and walked the short distance to the end of the main street where the church stood. It was grey and white and looked recently-painted. Like the rest of the hamlet, it had an aura of peace.
The graveyard was behind the church. It was not big; a low black wire fence encircled it. Some of the gravestones looked very old, their surfaces worn and chipped and many were leaning at odd angles. It didn't take long for them to find the graves belonging to James and Lily. They were buried side-by-side at the far right corner, their gravestones made of a white stone similar to the tomb belonging to Dumbledore. Harry felt his heart lift as above each of their names he saw a phoenix etched into the stone.
"We'll give you a minute," Hermione said softly, tugging at Ron's sleeve and leading him away. They stood near the entrance, watching as Harry sat down in front of his parents graves in the distance.
"Blimey this is a bit intense isn't it?" Ron said quietly.
"Poor Harry," Hermione said, her eyes on his mop of raven hair. "To think that he's never been able to come here before . . ."
A few moments passed in silence.
"Erm, Hermione?"
She looked at him.
"Do you remember what I was saying when you first got to the Burrow? About girlfriends and how having someone right now might make things a bit better?"
Hermione's eyes widened a little.
"Ron," she said quietly but firmly, "do you honestly think that this is the time or the place?"
Ron went red.
"Erm, no, maybe you're right."
He looked anywhere but at her. Hermione pointedly fixed her gaze on Harry. The minutes passed.
"Let's see how he is," Hermione said finally, and Ron followed her to where Harry was sitting. He was silent as they approached, but Hermione could see a tear falling down his cheek as he stood up to meet them. She slipped her hand into his and squeezed it, and Ron clapped him on the shoulder.
"All right?" Hermione asked him.
"Yeah," Harry replied, wiping his cheek with his free hand. He turned back to the graves.
"Bye Mum, bye Dad."
Still holding Hermione's hand, Harry walked away.
* * *