Harry Potter and the Desideratum Crusade [Harmione]

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.