32 Godric's Hollow

Harry and Hermione walked through the streets of Godric's Hollow arm-in-arm. They had discussed this with Ron the day before and agreed that there was no reason for them to hide their identities. For more precaution, however, they decided that Ron should be under the Invisibility Cloak while Harry and Hermione play the part of two people in love- which wasn't hard since they are.

Ron was trailing behind them under the cloak. Though they couldn't see him, they heard his breaths and pants. It was snowing, you see.

They passed near a chapel where they heard a choir singing Christmas carols. There wasn't much people in the area as they were all in the chapel.

"I can't believe it's Christmas already. We lost track of time with the hunt," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, it feels like just yesterday we escaped the Death Eaters during the wedding," Harry agreed. "Merry Christmas, guys."

"Merry Christmas," Hermione repeated.

The same response was heard from Ron though it was in the form of a whisper.

They continued walking down the pathway until they came upon a cemetery with a kissing gate for an entrance. Harry looked at the cemetery longingly. This did not go unnoticed by Hermione, however.

"Harry?" she asked.

Without looking at her, Harry said, "Do you think they're buried there, Hermione?"

"Yes, I think so. Come on."

Her arm still around his, she led them towards the cemetery and into the kissing gate. They walked from grave to grave until they came upon a familiar name.

"Ignotus Peverell?" Harry asked in awe. "He was buried here, too?"

Ron whispered from behind them, "Who's he?"

Hermione said, "We'll explain later, Ron. Or, rather, Luna's dad can. He was the one who told us about him."

Ron gulped inaudibly.

A day after their escape from Gringotts, everyone agreed to rescue Xenophilius Lovegood from his house and have him seek refuge with them as they feared the Death Eaters would come back for him.

It was a rather unsettling moment when he and Luna had to reveal their relationship to her father. Though Xeno- as they called him- was so very much like his daughter with his 'physically present, mentally absent' demeanor, he had threatened Ron to take care of his daughter or said redhead would be castrated and have his manly bits fed to a werewolf. Luna, bless her soul, stated she'd rather have Ron's manly bits intact to be able to make tons of sprogs with him. While saying this, the dreamy look in her eyes disappeared which means she meant every single word.

Ron had never been so red in his life.

Apparently, Harry and Hermione had witnessed the conversation too as they snickered at the mention of the Lovegood patriarch. Ron glared at them and though they couldn't see him, they knew he was giving them a death glare.

They continued walking from grave to grave until they found what they were looking for.

There was only one gravestone for both of them which stated:

"In Loving Memory

Of

James Potter

Born:

March 27, 1960

Died:

October 31, 1981

And

Lily Potter

Born:

January 30, 1960

Died:

October 31, 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death"

Harry sniffled as he saw their grave. Suddenly, he felt his eyes water. He brushed the tears away before they even began to fell.

Seeing as Harry was in shock at the moment, Hermione knelt down, swished her wand about, and conjured a wreath under the Potters' grave.

She smiled at the grave before saying, "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. Merry Christmas. I'm Hermione Granger, Harry's best friend and girlfriend. Our other best friend, Ronald Weasley, is here, too, but he's under the Invisibility Cloak at the moment."

Harry and Ron looked on silently, not knowing what to say.

"Harry's here. He's come to see you. He really misses you both. Oh, if you could only see him right now. I'm sure you're as proud of him as I am. He's grown into a decent, kind, loving man despite growing up with the Dursley's. He saved my life in our first year. Actually, he's saved a lot of lives now despite losing some he cared about like Sirius and Professor Dumbledore. And he's about to save a lot more people.

"That's what I love about him. He's brave, kind, selfless, loving, and stubborn. He's suffered so much in his short life but he still remains the ray of sunshine everybody needs. He gives so much without asking for anything in return. You'd love him because I know he loves you.

"We're in a war right now with him in the middle of it all but I promise you, he will live until he's 160 and die in his bed surrounded by his love ones, not in this war. I'll make sure of it.

"Mrs. Potter, I just wanted to thank you for your sacrifice. I know it sounds a little insensitive but that's how I feel. Because if you haven't done that, I wouldn't have met Harry. I wouldn't have fallen in love with him. I wouldn't have met the love of my life. So, thank you. And Merry Christmas."

By the end of her speech, she was already crying. And when she looked behind her, Harry was, too. She stood up and embraced him. He clung to her like she was his lifeline- in a way, she was.

Despite not being seen, Ron came closer and drew both of them in his embrace, initiating a group hug. Both of his friends hugged him as well though they could only feel the soft, silly material of the Invisibility Cloak.

And as they embraced, the snow fell. Despite the cold, they continued to embrace each other. They felt secure in their friendship, basking in it. They'd never felt more at peace with each other than they did at this moment. They were content in each other's arms- in their friendship- that despite all the challenges they'd recently faced, they came out alive and their bond became stronger. Because no matter what happens, they will always be best friends.

After all, they weren't called the Golden Trio for nothing.

...

After a while, they decided to move on to the second reason why they visited the place- to find a lead on the Horcruxes.

Ron had gone ahead of them to secure the perimeter as Harry and Hermione waited by the kissing gate. He knew they needed a private moment. That, and he really didn't want to be around when they started snogging.

He shuddered at the thought. He loved his friends and is happy that they found love in each other. But that didn't mean that he had to get used to seeing them try to eat each other's faces.

Fortunately for him, he was right... though he did not know it.

As soon as Harry was certain that Ron wasn't with them- which was difficult considering he was invisible- he pulled Hermione into a heated kiss. She wasted no time in kissing him back and threading her fingers through his hair, both of them drawing warmth in their passionate embrace.

They stayed like that for a while, locking lips under the snow. Only when they were short of breath did they pull apart but they still managed to keep their lips touching.

Hermione grinned. "What was that for?" she panted.

Harry chuckled, feeling light-headed because of their snog. "For being the best girlfriend I could ever ask for."

She pecked his lips. "And hopefully the last."

"Definitely the last."

He kissed her forehead tenderly and hugged her, his lips caressing her curly hair.

"I love you, Hermione," he said with so much emotion Hermione was afraid he'd break down.

But all she did was pull him closer, bury her head in the hollow between his neck and shoulder and say, "I love you, too, Harry... so much."

They remained in each other's embrace, breathing in each other's scents.

And that was how Ron found them. They both jumped apart, their wands in their hands, when he sighed and said, "At least you're not snogging."

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "I really hate your timing, Ron. When this war is over, I'm putting a tracking device in your food whenever Harry and I are around."

Ron looked indignant but confused under the Invisibility Cloak. "What's a tracking device?"

Harry laughed for a second before he turned serious. "So... what have you found, Ron?"

His best friend's disfigured voice answered, "Someone's been keeping an eye on us since we got here. It's giving me the chills."

"Anyone we know?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure. She looks familiar."

Harry and Hermione shared a worried glance.

"Where is she?" Harry asked.

In response, Ron walked behind them and grabbed both their shoulders. He guided them forward to an old house where they saw an old lady standing in front of it, staring straight at them.

As she saw this, Hermione gasped lightly and grabbed Harry's hand. He squeezed hers back in assurance. He turned to her. "Does she look familiar to you? I've never seen her before," he whispered in her ear.

Hermione nodded imperceptibly. "It's Professor Bagshot."

This time, it was Ron's turn to gasp. "No wonder I recognized her! I didn't know she lived here."

Harry still looked confused as they continued to approach her in a slow pace. "Who?" he asked.

Hermione huffed in annoyance. "Honestly! Don't you two read?"

Ron snorted. "Yes, we do. But not as much as you."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "She is a magical historian who wrote A History of Magic and approximately ten other books. And she was a professor at Hogwarts, too."

Ron shook his head. "I didn't know she was still alive. She's older than Dumbledore, you know?"

Harry gaped openly at her which caused Hermione to elbow him on the ribs. Hard. He grunted at the pain and shot a quick glare at her, rubbing his side.

He turned serious in a fraction of a second, though, and muttered audibly, "Can we trust her?"

Ron replied, "I'm not sure. But just in case she tries to do something, I'll be ready to Stun her."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I think that'd be wise," she agreed.

As they finally got closer to her, they balked at the pungent smell of rotten flesh and unwashed clothes- as if the old witch had never heard of the word hygiene. The boys managed to school their reactions, though, as Hermione elbowed Harry- again- and stomped on Ron's invisible foot imperceptibly when it was apparent that they were about to make disgusted sounds.

Hermione smiled at the old witch. "Merry Christmas, Professor Bagshot. I'm not sure if you recognize us but my name is Hermione Granger and this is my bo- Harry Potter."

Harry snorted quietly at her apparent slip. Luckily, Hermione didn't notice.

Bathilda, however, merely nodded to show that she understood but she was openly staring at Harry. As she did this, though, Harry felt a prick in his scar. He would've paid more attention to it if it were more painful but he ignored the pain. He merely smiled at her.

Without a word, she went into her house and glanced back at them for a moment, signalling them to follow her. They did.

It was a dilapidated old house. It was dark, the windows were cracked, the floorboards were dusty, the walls were filled with grime, there were a clutter of items strewn on the floor, the furniture was damaged- if not broken- and the air smelt as pungent as the owner- if not more so. It was so dark inside they had to resort to casting Lumos. Though it was Christmas, the house felt like it was Halloween.

What made Hermione's hair stand on end though, was hissing. She couldn't pinpoint where the sound came from but she could definitely hear hissing. She turned to Harry to see him looking at Bathilda who was staring back at him. After a few seconds of their eye staring contest- which ended in a draw- Bathilda slowly made her way up the stairs, grabbing a lit candle along the way.

He turned to her and said, "I think she wants me to follow her."

Hermione frowned. "How do you reckon?"

"I'm not sure how I know but I think I heard her whisper."

"Whisper? How come only you heard her?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Maybe because it was meant for me?"

Hermione squeezed his fingers- which was still within her grip. She sighed in defeat. "Fine. But be careful."

Harry squeezed her fingers in return. "I know." And with that, he kissed her forehead then went up the stairs to catch up with Bathilda.

Almost inaudibly, she whispered, "Ron, go with him."

She could smell his familiar murky scent and, lately, he smelled like flowers, probably because of Luna. Then she heard his disfigured voice beside her. "Are you going to be alright?"

She nodded. "I'll be fine. I'm more worried about him. Something doesn't feel right."

She heard him sigh. "Alright. If you say so. Keep your eyes and ears open.

"Constant vigilance," they chorused the words that helped the three of them survive during the hunt.

A few seconds later, she could no longer feel his presence.

Hermione shivered, not because of the cold but because of the feeling of something dark in the place. She surveyed the place until she came upon a coffee table filled with some parchment, a quill and ink, and a book. Upon closer look, she saw the book's cover: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore by Rita Skeeter.

Hermione gaped at the cover and the author and she felt a bubble of rage fill her. She really hated that woman. She was going to take care of her when the war ends, that much she was sure.

The book had a piece of parchment clipped on the cover- a letter.

...

Dear Batty,

Thanks for your help. Here's a copy of the book; hope you like it. You said everything, even if you don't remember it.

Rita

...

Hermione's temper flared up a notch. The horrid, loathsome witch had probably used Bathilda's senile condition and Veritaserum to write the book.

She took the paper from the clip and put it in her pocket. This would be one of the evidences she needed to throw Skeeter in Azkaban. The ugly beetle will never see the light of day again. She will make sure of that. She would make sure that Skeeter would never print anything about anyone ever again- especially Harry. No, the love of her life did not have to deal with her ever again.

But as she heard the thumps from above, she raised her head. With the light from her wand, it illuminated the floorboards above her. They had traces of blood on them.

She gasped in shock.

...

When Harry had reached Bathilda, she was in, what he guessed, her bedroom. She was standing in the middle of the room, staring straight at him. Harry, unnerved, shivered at her gaze.

The room was as worn down as the house itself. The bed sheets were worn out and dusty, the floorboards felt like they were going to give in any moment now. The windows were in the same condition as the windows downstairs. There was a table beside the bed with a stacks of parchment, quill and ink, and a book.

He heard Bathilda's voice behind him.

"Harry Potter," she hissed.

Harry, with his scar tingling, approached her. She merely pointed to something behind him and when he turned, he saw it was a photo album. He opened the album to find the first picture he saw to be Professor Dumbledore and- to his shock- Gellert Grindelwald. Harry stared at the album in shock and didn't notice Bathilda behind him, shaking. It was apparent she wasn't shivering due to the cold.

Bathilda's mouth opened as if in silent shock then a snake burst from her body.

By the time Harry had realized what was happening behind him, the snake was already leaping towards him.

"Harry!"