Chapter Three ~ Harry

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The war with Voldemort had ended a few months ago, and now I stand in front of the very house where it all started. I took a look at the flower on the front gate, despair filling me at all the names that were surely dead and gone. I sighed and opened the rickety gate, wishing to see my old home at least once more. I would be going off to school in a few days, and I wanted to get this off my mind for at least a little while. Something was pulling me towards my old house, influencing my visit. Whatever it was though, I did not care. If it wanted me to see my old home, it couldn't be that bad. I walked up the path and through the front door, seeing all the damage to the rooms from the murder. My mood darkened as I saw many pictures of my parents together, looking so much in love. I walked through the living room, knowing I would never be able to sit in it with my father as we waited for breakfast to be ready. There would be no watching quidditch on the television, no playing card games on the table, no late nights spent having a family meeting. I walked into the kitchen and saw five chairs at the table, kind of odd since it was only for my parents and I, but they were most likely for guests. I bypassed the table that was elegantly carved and to the kitchen where I would have snuck late-night snacks, mid-afternoon munches, and early-morning quenchers. I felt a tear dribble down my cheek at the amount of opportunity lost. I quickly wiped it away and continued on upstairs, turning in to the first room I found. It was my father's study, obviously, from the clutters of papers everywhere and the crazy trinkets littering the shelves. I saw many different arrays of pictures, from his time in Hogwarts with Mom, to his time as an Auror, until one picture that looked to be a few days before their deaths. I didn't look at it, afraid it would cause me to break down before I made it through my whole house, though I couldn't part with the only photo that contained me and my parents. I gently placed it in my pocket and promised myself I would look at it later. I walked out of the study and into the room opposite. It was their master bedroom. I felt my eyes water slightly when I saw all of the gifts put in a corner, forever unopened. Probably from their marriage and baby shower. I quickly walked out, not wanting to see anything else but my room. I walked into the room next to the Master and grew confused. Now, it was just like any other nursery room, except there were three of everything, excluding the cradle. I looked at the walls and saw three names, Harry, Percy, and Loki. My eyes widened and I stared at those names, my whole world crumbling and hope rebuilding it in minutes. If I had two brothers, then they must have survived Voldemort as well? But where are they? Do they know about me? I worried to myself and decided to take out the picture. Sure enough, it had three little bundles in m-our smiling mother's arms, our father wrapping us all in a hug, happily looking at the camera while the three identical babies giggled happily. If I looked close enough I could see tiny embroidery on each blanket, I was in the middle with Percy on the right side, and Loki on the other. I smiled down at the photo and tears started flowing down my face. I had two identical brothers. I looked at the rest of the destroyed room for anything that we shared. I walked over to the cradle and saw three blue blankets sitting there, slightly burned but still in great condition. I pulled all three up and saw the same embroidery as in the picture. I put them against my face and inhaled. They smelt faintly of smoke, but I didn't care. They were soft and one of my only connections to my brothers and parents. I walked around the room some more, looking for any more trinkets of a lost time, a lost chance. In the back of the room, there was a small bookshelf with a basket filled with six stuffed animals: a pegasus, a wolf, a fish, a horse, a dragon, and a phoenix. I picked up the dragon and phoenix and felt a small connection to them, like I slept with these when I was younger. I decided to just keep the basket and gently folded the blankets and put them inside with the toys. I then looked through the other baskets, trinkets, and pictures, deciding to take a small black jewelry box, an unfinished scrap book, my parents' wedding rings, a few chains and lockets from Mother's own jewelry box, and a few pictures of Mom and Dad laughing, smiling, kissing, and hugging each other. By then, I was already crying, and walked to the Master's bedroom to bawl in my parents' bed. I pushed my face against a pillow and let it all out, screaming, crying, wailing about how I didn't even know if my triplet brothers were alive. Loneliness and sorrow hit me continuously like waves on the sandy beaches. I lay under the covers in the comfort of my parents' bed, staring at the ceiling. I would have to look for my brothers once I graduate and become an Auror. I set my goals in my head and felt a weight lift in my chest. Now, all I have to do is make it through one more year of school without dying and I'll finally have relatives, brothers even, to support me for the rest of my life. I smiled as I fell into a peaceful slumber, my baby blanket clutched to my chest, stuffed animals surrounding my figure.

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