A/N: I would like to give a special thanks to all of the people who take a few moments to write me a review. It means a lot when readers take the time to share their thoughts with the writers of Portkey. You made my day!!!!
This chapter is a little angsty, but I have always felt that Harry needed a chance to say goodbye to his parents. I hope you enjoy it!
Still don't own these characters, but I do like sharing them with others!
Chapter 15
Visitation Rights
They arrived just outside the town of Godric's Hollow on a nearby grass knoll, away from prying eyes and the curious onlookers. Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed Lupin in silence; each lost in their own thoughts. There was a central theme to their musings though, they did not know what to expect as Lupin had said very little. Harry walked solemnly beside Lupin as they reached the edge of town and turned towards a small row of cottages leading away from town and towards the forest.
"I don't know what we will find, Harry," Lupin said apologetically. "We did put a charm on the place to keep people away, but there was a lot of damage already. Hagrid said he found you in a pile of rubble."
"I remember him telling me about that." Harry said soberly.
"They reached a fork in the road and turned right, towards the forest. The houses were spaced further apart here, and Harry noticed that they were not in as good of condition. He could see people glancing their way, with distrustful eyes, following their progress. At several houses, the curtains would part, only to quickly fall back into place as they drew near. It was an eerie sensation; being watched by those who suspected something was going on. Lupin noticed him staring at the run-down cottages and taking in the reaction of the people present as they past.
"Not many people want to live near a haunted house," he said grimly.
They came to the end of the street and Harry understood. There seemed to be a sense of foreboding coming from the ruins in front of him. He glanced back down the street in time to see several people quickly avert their eyes and go about their business. It made Harry feel uneasy and on edge. His hand strayed to his pocket to make sure his wand was easily accessible.
Everything around the edge of the property was overgrown, and the hedges blocked the view of the house from the street. Harry followed the path up to where two of the hedges seemed to reach for each other, protecting the entrance. He pushed through, and his eyes fell upon his home for the first time in over fifteen years. He stopped, allowing his eyes to adjust to the gloom that seemed to settle over the house, even though it was sunny. As the rest of the group silently moved up beside him, Harry took in the ruins that once had been a home filled with love and laughter. Images came to him suddenly, long buried memories of his mother's loving arms and his father's laughter. His eyes roamed over the shattered windows and broken door, but instead of the ruins in front of him, he was seeing a house in the past. He saw how it was, with four walls and a roof, and then the memories came fast and furious, and he remembered it all, the kitchen, the living room and his bedroom. He remembered trivial things, a stuffed bear, a small car, and his father's comfy chair.
"Merlin's bones," Ron whispered. "Most of the house is gone."
The sound of a voice startled Harry, so lost was he in his memories. The others hadn't moved. They were awaiting permission from Harry to cross into his private sanctuary. Harry looked at the house again and saw it for what it was. It looked like someone had dropped a bomb on the right side of the house. The front window was gone and so was half of the wall. Inside, all that was left was rubble. The roof was still intact on the left side, but some of the walls had fallen to lean against what once was a study. The second floor was completely gone and Harry was amazed he had even survived the destruction.
He walked to the front door, but the others only followed him with their eyes. They had decided to let Harry have some time alone before following him in. He pushed the door open, and the creaking of the hinges echoed out towards the back of the house. It smelled musty and damp, and Harry could see where the weeds were beginning to reclaim their territory. His eyes roamed over the skeletal remains of the outer walls. He could hear laughter and talking coming from the fringes of his memory. Bits of conversation and a sense of contentment permeated the air, and the strong feeling of love suddenly overpowered him. Harry drew in a shuddering breath and stumbled towards the back of the house with the intent of going out in the yard. He felt overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through him, anger, sadness, bitterness and a sense of loss. It seemed surreal. He needed to get away from the destruction. His parents' presence was so strong here, he almost expected to see them sitting in the back yard. He was looking around, searching for them, so sure they were there, when he saw the two markers sitting near the back of the yard. Harry just stood there, stunned that he was finally really seeing them. He slowly moved on leaden feet towards the burial site. Harry knew whose names would be on those markers, but he hoped that maybe he could be wrong. He reached the gravesite and collapsed onto his knees, the anguish evident on his face. He slowly pulled the vines off of first one and then the second marker, reading the names as he went. This is where his parents were; this is where Lily and James Potter were buried. At first, Harry just stared, willing the letters to change to say someone else's name. When the engraving didn't change, the thought slammed into him then with such a force that it was painful.
My parents are dead…
It had been different when someone had told him his parents had died. Now Harry was seeing it, and knowing the finality of them being gone. He could hear a low wail, rising in pitch like the sound of a wounded animal, and it took him a second to realize he was making that sound. Harry screamed then, making his throat raw. The power surged from him, blasting at the surrounding trees and tearing leaves from limbs. The birds took flight in fear as Harry released his anguish. He heard running coming from the house and he didn't care who saw him. He wailed, ranted, raved, and slammed the ground with his fist. He let out every drop of pain and anger he had bottled up, letting it wash out of him, exhausting him. Harry felt a hand touch him tentatively on the shoulder, and when it didn't move away, he saw Hermione come around to kneel in front of him. She wrapped him in a hug, trying to absorb some of his pain, trying to take it away so he didn't have to endure it alone. They stayed like that for a while, both of them crying as Harry's anguish overwhelmed Hermione. Finally, Hermione pulled Harry up on shaky legs and led him over to a bench that was just to the side of the gravesite. Harry collapsed on the bench, his eyes never leaving the markers.
"It's not fair," he rasped, "why me? Why didn't I die? Why did they leave me alone? Why not Neville, or…or some other wizarding family?"
"That's not fair to Neville." Hermione said quietly.
"Oh, so it's fair to me? It's fair that I have to always be looking over my shoulder, wondering when it's going to be my turn to die? It's fair that I have had to put up with all the ridicule and attention because some wacko decided that I was a threat to him?" he yelled.
"You don't really mean that Harry,"
"Yes I do! I don't want fame from being `The Boy Who Lived'! I want to be normal! Someone that other people don't give a second glance to! I want…I just want my mum and dad back," he trailed of in an anguished whisper.
Hermione held him then, trying to comfort him. "I'm sorry, Harry. I don't know the answer this time," she whispered. "I can't change what's happened, and I can't bring your parents back. I do know they loved you a lot and would want you to be strong. They didn't want to leave you, Harry, remember that. They died trying to protect you. They wanted you to have a chance to grow up and have a normal life," she pulled back from him and looked him firmly in the eyes. "You are never alone, Harry. You have Ron and I, plus everyone else who cares about you. I know this has been hard, but ask yourself why you wanted to do this, to come here. Did you want to wallow in your grief or did you want to give a proper farewell, and perhaps find some information to help you defeat the one who has caused you such pain?"
She leaned over and kissed his cheek before standing up, deciding that he needed to make that decision on his own.
"We'll be in the house going through the debris. Join us when you are ready," she said gently.
Harry watched her leave and then looked back over at the gravestones. The pain was lessening, but it was still there. Dumbledore was right, he couldn't change the past, and as Hermione had pointed out, he couldn't dwell there forever, wallowing in grief for something he couldn't change. He felt guilty for yelling at her. She was only trying to help.
"She's a great friend. You'd like her." Harry said quietly, addressing the headstones. "She's a bit bossy, but definitely the brightest witch in our class. I'm glad that I have her as a friend, Ron too."
Harry started talking then, telling his parents about his life. He was sure they already knew about most of it, but it felt good to be able to unburden himself, to share his innermost thoughts with them. It was good therapy for Harry. The loss of his parents was still bitter and it still hurt a lot, but he finally had closure, and a chance to say goodbye. Perhaps that's why he felt so strongly about coming.
When Harry returned to the house, Hermione was glad to see he had worked through some of his pain. She hated it when he hurt, because she hurt too. He made his way over to where she was sifting through a pile of wood.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you," Harry said quietly, "I wasn't mad at you, I'm just mad at this whole situation."
"That's okay," Hermione said as she smiled at him. "You just needed a chance to get it all out."
"Alright there, mate?" Ron asked as he tossed aside a chunk of what looked like a stair.
"I've been better," Harry replied, "but yeah, thanks."
Hermione had moved over to try and see behind the fallen wall.
"Professor, what is back there? I can see some kind of room," she said as she pried some of the plaster away.
Lupin came over and looked through the hole that Hermione had made.
"It was James' study," he replied. "I think I can see a bookshelf still standing. Here, stand back. Let's see if I can get rid of this stuff," he said as he pointed his wand at the wall.
"Auferobexti"*
The wall glowed white for a moment, and then began to crumble, starting at the top and moving down, creating small piles of dust on the floor.
"We could have used that when that rock slide trapped us in the Chamber of Secrets," muttered Ron.
They stepped through as the fading sunlight danced with the dust particles in the enclosed space. The study had been damaged as well, but there were still many things that were lying untouched, waiting for Harry. Hermione went straight for the bookshelf, pulling books off and stuffing them into her bag. Harry wandered over to what was left of a large desk and bent down to pick up a picture. He shook the broken glass away and looked into the smiling faces.
"Misters Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and…" he stopped. Wormtail wasn't there. The three Marauders grinned cheekily up at Harry. He figured the picture must have been taken at Hogwarts; he could see the Whomping Willow in the background. Lupin came over and laid a hand on his shoulder.
"That picture was taken by your mother just before we graduated. We had just finished our N.E.W.T.s and were having a spectacular day off," he sighed
"Harry! Look at this!" Hermione said excitedly. "I found some wonderful books!"
"Trust you to do that," sassed Ron.
Harry carefully put the picture in his bag as he moved over to where she was standing, and she showed them the titles.
"I found An Auror's Guide to the Dark Arts, Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, The Dark Arts Outsmarted, and Hogwarts: A Complete History.
"You have the last one," Harry said as he looked at the books.
"No, this is a special edition Harry, very rare. It updates itself as important events occur at school. Look, I'll show you," she flipped towards the end of the book. "Read this."
Harry took the book from her. He began to read, his eyes going wide in surprise.
"On September first, Nineteen hundred and Ninety-one, Hogwarts welcomed its most famous student, Harry Potter. Mr. Potter was sorted into the Gryffindor House after much deliberation by the sorting hat…"
"Oh great," Harry muttered. "Now my name is in print."
"That is so cool!" Ron exclaimed. "Am I in there?"
Harry handed Hermione the book and moved away to see if he could find anything else, as Ron tried to see the pages he had been reading over Hermione's shoulder. He kicked a pile of debris and his eye caught a glint of gold. He reached down and pushed away bits of plaster to uncover a golden snitch. He picked it up and watched it unfurl its wings in his hand. It jumped up to hover in front of his face before flitting off towards Ron. Ron swatted at it, trying to catch it as it flew around his head, and Lupin followed its movements.
"Your father used to play with that all the time. He said it used to relax him." Lupin said quietly.
Harry watched the snitch out of the corner of his eye and remembered the scene in Snape's memory of his father playing with the snitch while he relaxed with his friends. Harry wondered if Lupin was remembering too. He looked at Lupin and saw the shadow of sorrow cross his face. Without even bothering to move his head, Harry's hand shot out with lightening fast reflexes and caught the snitch as it buzzed beside his head. He put it in his pocket without saying a word. Lupin's eyes had gone wide with surprise at the ease of Harry's catch.
I think you're even faster that your father was. You would have given him a run for his money," Lupin smiled wistfully, feeling emotional all of a sudden. "Excuse me," he said as he left the teens and walked towards the front of the house.
It had been hard to come back here, as it reminded Lupin of the failure to keep his friends safe. There were so many memories to cope with, and he had to do it alone. Lupin knew it had been even harder on Harry. He looked up towards the sky and noticed it was becoming dark with the coming of twilight. He figured it was time to go. Now that Harry knew how to get here, he could come back. Lupin was just about to turn and collect the trio when the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle. He moved towards the hedge and pushed his face through to see the street. He saw many figures heading their way, and he knew it wasn't good. He quickly headed back to the house and moved towards the den. Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked up when they heard Lupin's quick pace coming towards them.
"We've got company," he warned. "Looks like about a dozen or so, probably Death Eaters. Time to leave."
They grabbed their bags and headed out the front door. They could hear chanting now, and it was close.
"No time to run," Lupin said, "I want you to apparate to the edge of Godric's Hollow and then we'll grab the Portkey."
They nodded, and closed their eyes in concentration. Harry focused on the town and began to feel that pull at his navel, but then he was jerked back. He was still there at the house. He looked at his friends and Lupin, and his surprise was mirrored on their faces. They couldn't Apparate.
"Damn!" Lupin swore. "We're in big trouble now."
* Auferobexti: remove the wall.
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