A betrayal of a different type

Chapter 31

The first of November was a chilly day. The clouds partly hid the early morning sun. The air was faintly moist as a light drizzle rained upon the grounds. The small town of Godric's Hollow was quiet, especially around the cemetery. The kissing gate groaned, quite loudly in the otherwise peaceful picture. 

As Harry followed Remus through the mossy paths of the graveyard, he could not help but feel as if he were infringing on the peace of the dead. Each sound his feet made disturbed the inherit tranquility present. It was reassuring, in a morbid way. That the last of his parents were comfortably surrounded by flowers and peace. It was surprising that most of the buried were of the 18th and 19th centuries. It was almost as if his parents were the only residents that lived in the 20th century. 

He stopped at a marked tomb. " Ignotus Peverell?," He asked.  He scrutinised the mark in his grave: a triangle, a circle and a line. 

" What of him Harry?" Remus asked. 

He pointed uncertainly. " I am the Peverell Head. "

" Ah, I remember. I think James mentioned being descendant through that particular line though I gave it no thought until you mentioned it along with your other Lordships. This area had always been in favour with the Potters and it is not unlikely that it was in favour before as well." 

" Why is his grave marked like that then?" 

" Who knows Harry? Such things are often lost in history and unless you find a journal down in the vaults you may never know. It could be in honour of a person, maybe a simple made up mark during a childhood game etched to remember him by." 

Harry nodded, making a note to mention Ignotus to Hermione and inquire as to an Abbot in the cemetery to Hannah upon glancing the lone Abbot grave. 

Remus halted a few paces from two graves. " Here we are " he intoned softly. " I'll let you have a private moment." Harry did not take his eyes away from the stone slabs even as his pseudo uncle turned and left. 

With a graceful drop, Harry knelt before his parents' grave. His fingers reached out and traced his parents' names, dates of birth and death. The stone was wet and cold to his already numb fingers. Tears bottled in his eyes as he remembered their last words. A choked sob fell from his lips; he slapped his hand over his mouth in an effort to quiet himself. 

He allowed tears to slip down his cheeks, but he did not cry. He would give himself today to mourn. But he had to move forward, not remain stuck in past. Sirius had, and he had died. He may technically be alive, but Harry knew that was not due to any action of Sirius himself.  And Harry had too much on him to allow the past to control him. He could not afford these kind of mistakes. 

"Hi, mum...dad..." he whispered to the earth, despite knowing whatever was left of them was bone, " I'm sorry I did not come yesterday or sooner." He chuckled mirthlessly. " I didn't want to taint this visit with the inevitable Halloween drama. I.. I am sorry you had to die because of me; because of the prophecy. You gave me sixteen years of borrowed time...but one day I'll likely die. The prophecy says so. I mean its either that or become a murderer and I can't see me winning with so little experience. I don't say anything, act like it all fine but it still gets to me. The others if they know haven't said anything yet but I think they will soon. I try to be strong like you...It has been better now than in the summer. Especially now that I have people I am learning to trust again. But... I don't want to die. I don't want my friends to die. I am sorry I am not as brave as you would like me to be. " Harry sat back on his knees and looked up toward the darkening sky, clouds swirling about his head.