We belong together || Harry Potter x Reader

Chapter 24

"I don't know about this," you whispered, hanging on to Hermione's arm as the three of you walked behind the elderly woman. Harry already had possession of the horcrux, it hanged right under the many collars of his shirts. You glanced at Harry who was further ahead than you and and Hermione, his distance close enough to hear you both and to be on guard in case something happens. 

"Why?" Hermione said, keeping her head down and anxiously fixing her beanie on her head. 

You looked at the back of the elderly woman, her shoulders hunched so forward that it looked like she would fall on her face at any given moment. The way she stays so quiet unsettled you. "Why doesn't she talk?"

Hermione pondered for a moment, her eyes also attached to the woman who shuffled away. "Maybe she's not sure if we are the right people."

"That's fair," you answered, looking again at the silent graves that are slowly fading away behind you. "Are we going to come back?" You said the last bit a bit too silently so that Harry wouldn't hear. 

Hermione frowned and placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. "I really hope so. You both deserve a proper goodbye."

"I wish we would have had more time," you stated, fixing your hair from obscuring your view. The wind started to pick up again, the town's lights started to dim. The moon was hidden from the dark clouds, the time was unknown but it seemed that no person should be up at this hour. You tried to look inside some of the windows of a few shops but it was so dark that you couldn't get past the small lamps that shadowed the rooms. 

"Are you Bathilda?" Harry asked. This broke the silent town as his words seemed to create life.

The lady stopped. Her back still leaning forward but her black velvet shoes remained imprinted in the snow. She turned her head to the side, her gray hair hiding her eyes from the side. It was impossible to see her pupils, Harry couldn't spot it--even at his close distance. Her head nodded, her neck and shoulders stiff that it looked almost robotic. It must be the old age. 

Hermione seemed to relax just a little bit more but your heart started to beat faster. There was this peculiarity of this person that did not sit right with you. You tried to hurry Hermione so that you could point out your concerns to Harry but his attention was on something else. 

"Is this your home?" Harry questioned, making a face that showed how much his nose detested the smell. 

Bathilda didn't answer but opened the door to the house and went inside, not once looking back. You reached to Harry before he even placed a foot on the rotten porch, his eyes widened as they met yours. You scanned the house, the gray wood falling apart and it looked like one small blow would have it collapsing. Also, the stench was just horrid: it smelled like one of Ron's most-used Quidditch socks. Ron.

"What?" Harry asked, his eyes softening slightly as you frowned.

"Harry, are you sure we should follow her?" You asked, Hermione joining in on the conversation.

"She makes a point," she added, looking at the house. "The lady hasn't spoken a word." Her gaze stayed fixated at the broken home, as if she could visualize the odor peaking through at every crack the house possesses. 

Harry's lips flattened and he looked inside the house, the single staircase leading up was colored by the shadows that danced along the wall as the lady ascended. "I trust her."

"Harry," you stated, "we don't know her! What makes you so sure?"

He pointed to his neck. "This hasn't gone wild. We are safe." He gave your hand a slight squeeze before entering the home, you watched as he followed the lady after scanning the living room for a moment.