HP Approaches the Magic World

Everything was running according to Jon's arrangement. Because of Ron's injury and anxiety, he left Hermione and Harry under the influence of the Horcrux, which suddenly made the atmosphere in the team tense.

When Harry woke up the next day, it took him a few seconds to remember what had happened. He naively hoped that it was a dream and that Ron was still here and had not left.

But when he turned his head, what he saw was Ron's empty bed, attracting his attention like a corpse lying on the road.

Harry jumped out of his bed, not looking at Ron's bed.

Hermione was already busy in the kitchen. When Harry passed by, she did not say good morning to him, but turned her head hurriedly.

he's gone.

Harry said to himself.

he's gone.

As he washed his face and dressed, he could not help thinking this, as if repeating it would soften the blow.

He was gone and not coming back. This was a simple fact, Harry knew, because their protective magic meant that as soon as they left this place, Ron couldn't find them.

He and Hermione finished breakfast in silence. Hermione's eyes were red and swollen, and it looked like she hadn't slept all night.

As the two packed their bags, Hermione lingered, and Harry knew why she wanted to stall by the river.

Because he caught her looking up eagerly several times, he believed she was deceiving herself into thinking she heard footsteps in the heavy rain.

However, no red-haired figure appeared in the woods.

And every time Harry looked around like she did (in fact, he couldn't help but hold on to a little hope), but saw only the woods washed by the rain, a small burst of anger erupted in his heart.

He could hear Ron saying: "We thought you knew what you were doing!"

So he continued to pack his bags, feeling like there was a hard knot in his heart.

The turbid river water rose rapidly and would soon overflow their bank.

The two stayed an hour longer than the normal time they should have left the camp.

Finally, after opening and repacking the beaded bag three times, Hermione seemed to have no reason to delay anymore. She and Harry apparated hand in hand and appeared on a hillside covered with heather and howling in the wind.

As soon as she arrived, Hermione let go of Harry's hand, walked away from him, and finally sat down on a big rock, burying her face in her knees and trembling.

Harry knew she was crying.

He looked at her, feeling that he should comfort her, but something kept him rooted to the spot.

He was cold and tense from the inside out: I saw the contemptuous expression on Ron's face again.

Harry strode through the heather, making wide circles around the emotionally disturbed Hermione, casting the spells she usually cast to keep them safe.

They didn't talk about Ron for the next few days.

Harry was determined not to mention his name again, and Hermione seemed to know that it was useless to insist on mentioning it.

But sometimes at night, when she thought he was asleep, Harry could hear her crying secretly.

Harry began to take out the Marauder's Map and looked at it carefully with his wand.

He was waiting for the black dot marked Ron to appear in the corridors of Hogwarts, proving that he was back in the comfort of the castle, protected by his pure-blood status.

However, Ron does not appear on the map.

After a while, Harry found that he took out the map just to stare at Ginny's name in the girls' dormitory. He didn't know if his eager eyes could enter her dreams and make her feel that he was missing her and wishing her all the best.

good.

During the day, they pondered where Gryffindor's sword might be and discussed where Dumbledore might choose to hide it.

But the more they discussed, the more desperate and far-fetched their guesses became.

No matter how hard Harry banged his head, he couldn't remember Dumbledore ever mentioning a place to hide things.

Sometimes he doesn't know whether it's Ron or Dumbledore who annoys him more, we thought you knew what you were doing...

We thought Dumbledore told you what to do...

We thought you had a real plan!

He couldn't hide from himself that Ron was right, Dumbledore had left him almost nothing.

They found one Horcrux, but were unable to destroy it, and the others were as elusive as before.

Despair seemed to be engulfing him. Thinking about it now, Harry was surprised that he was so self-righteous that he asked two friends to accompany him on this aimless journey.

He knew nothing, had no ideas, and was painfully on guard for any sign that Hermione might come and tell him that she had had enough and was leaving.

They spent many nights almost in silence, Hermione often taking out the portrait of Phineas Nigellus and propping it up on a chair, as if he could fill the huge hole left by Ron's departure.

Similar.

Although Phineas Nigellus had promised never to come back last time, he seemed unable to resist the opportunity to inquire about Harry, so he agreed to appear blindfolded every few days.

Harry was even glad to see him, he was a companion after all, albeit a sarcastic one.

They liked to hear any news that was happening at Hogwarts, but Phineas Nigellus was not a good reporter.

He admired Snape, the first Slytherin headmaster since he took charge of the school himself.

Harry and the others had to be careful not to criticize Snape or ask disrespectful questions, otherwise Phineas Nigellus would leave the scene immediately.

However, he still revealed some snippets.

Snape had to deal with the ongoing low-key resistance of a group of die-hard students.

Ginny is banned from Hogsmeade.

Snape restored Umbridge's old rules, prohibiting student gatherings of more than three people and any informal student societies.

From all this, Harry speculated that Ginny, and possibly Neville and Luna, were working with her to maintain Dumbledore's Army.

The sporadic news made Harry so eager to see Ginny that he almost felt a stomach ache. At the same time, it also made him think of Ron, Dumbledore, and Hogwarts. He missed school almost as much as he did for Hogwarts.

Just as strong as my girlfriend’s.

Indeed, when Phineas Nigellus described Snape's repressive measures, Harry had a moment of madness,

He imagined simply going back to school to join in the troublemaking operation for Snape: having plenty to eat, a soft bed to sleep on, and having other people's responsibilities, it seemed like the most wonderful life in the world.

But he then remembered that he was the number one delinquent, with a bounty of 10,000 gold galleons on his head, and now walking into Hogwarts was as dangerous as walking into the Ministry of Magic.

Phineas Nigellus inadvertently emphasized this fact by asking leading questions to find out where Harry and Hermione were.

Whenever this happened, Hermione would stuff him back into the small beaded bag.

After such a rough farewell, Phineas Nigellus always refused to show his face for several days.

The weather is getting cold.

Because they did not dare to stay in one area for too long, they did not stay in southern England, but continued to move around the country.

Halfway up the mountain, freezing rain pounded on the tent;

In the swamp, cold water poured into the tent;

On a small lake island in Scotland, half of the tent was buried in snow at night.

They had seen the Christmas trees twinkling from several drawing-room windows, and one night Harry finally determined to take up what seemed to him the only way left.

Having just finished a rare meal of spaghetti and canned pears, Harry thought she might be a little more persuasive than usual.

Moreover, he had carefully planned in advance to take a few hours off from wearing the Horcrux, which was now hanging on the bed beside him.

"Hermione?"

"Um?"

She was curled up in a sunken armchair, reading "The Tales of Beedle the Bard."

Harry couldn't imagine that she could read anything new from that book, it wasn't very thick after all.

But she was obviously still deciphering something, because the "Magic Phonetic Table" was spread out on the armrest of the chair.

Harry cleared his throat, feeling just like a few years ago when he had to ask Professor McGonagall if he could go to Hogsmeade without getting the signed permission from the Dursleys.

"Hermione, I've been thinking-"

"Harry, can you do me a favor?"

Apparently she didn't listen to him.

She leaned forward and held up the "The Tales of Beedle the Bard", trying not to appear too deliberate. The time was almost up and she needed to guide Harry to think in one direction.

"Look at that symbol."

She pointed to the top of the page. Above the text that was probably the title of the story, there was a figure that looked like a triangular eye with a vertical line in the middle of the pupil.

"I haven't had any ancient runes lessons, Hermione."

"I know, but it's not a rune, and there's no phonetic list for it.

I always thought it was an eye pattern, but now I think it’s not!

It's a mark made with ink. Look, it was drawn by someone. It's not the content of the book. Think about it, have you ever seen it?"

"No... no, wait."

Harry looked at it carefully again: "Isn't this the same as what Luna's father wears around his neck?"

"Well, that's what I thought too!"

"That's Grindelwald's trademark."

She stared at him, her mouth wide open.

"What?"

"Krum told me..."

He repeated the story that Viktor Krum had told him at the wedding, and Hermione looked surprised.

"Grindelwald's symbol?"

She looked back and forth between Harry and the strange symbol.

"I've never heard of Grindelwald having a symbol, and none of the relevant information I've read mentioned it."

"I said, Krum thinks that the symbol carved on the wall of Durmstrang was carved by Grindelwald."

She leaned back in the old armchair and frowned, thinking about how to explain all this.

"That's very strange.

If it's a symbol of black magic, why is it in a children's storybook?"

"Yeah, it's quite strange."

Fortunately, Harry always followed her thoughts and said, "And Scrimgeour would recognize it.

As a minister, he should be an expert in identifying black magic."

"I know... maybe he thought it was an eye, like I did just now.

Other stories have little graphics on their titles.”

She stopped talking and continued to study the strange symbol, and Harry tried again.

"Hermione?"

"Well?"

"I've been thinking, I-I want to go to Godric's Hollow."

She looked up at him, her eyes not focused, but she was actually relieved in her heart. She had been thinking about how to guide Harry to talk about this topic, but now it seemed that, just as Jon said, Harry

I want to go to that place more than she does.

However, Hermione appeared to be in a state of indifference, so Harry concluded that she was still thinking about the mysterious symbol on the book.

"Yeah," she said immediately, as if she was afraid that Harry would change his mind: "Yeah, I'm thinking about it too, I really think we should go."

"Did you hear me clearly?"

"Of course, you want to go to Godric's Hollow.

I agree.

I think we should go.

I mean, I can't think of anywhere else to find it.

It would be dangerous to go, but the more I think about it, the more I think it might be there."

"Uh-what could possibly be there?"

This time, she looked just as confused as he had just moments ago.

"That sword, Harry!

Dumbledore must have known that you would want to go back there, and besides, Godric's Hollow is the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor—"

"Really? Gryffindor was born in Godric's Hollow?"

"Harry, have you ever opened "History of Magic"?"

"Well," Harry smiled, as if he was smiling for the first time in months, his facial muscles were stiff, and he felt strange: "I may have opened it, when I first bought it... just that one time..."

"But that village is named after him, and I thought you might be able to make the connection."

Hermione said that she didn't show any signs of guilt, so there was no problem when she spoke. It was just a little bit strange, but it sounded much closer to her usual style, which made Harry almost wait for her to announce that she was going to the library.

He said: "The History of Magic mentioned a little bit about that village, etc..."

She opened the beaded packet, fumbled for a while, and finally pulled out her old textbook: "A History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot, and turned to the page she was looking for.

After the International Statute of Secrecy was signed into effect in 1689, wizards completely went into hiding. Perhaps naturally, they formed their own small communities within the community.

Many small villages have attracted several wizard families, and these families unite to help and protect each other.

Dingworth in Cornwall, Upper Flagley in Yorkshire, and Ottery-St. Catchpole on the south coast of England are all home to wizarding families, who are tolerant and sometimes under confusion spells.

Life among Muggles.

Perhaps the most famous of these semi-wizard settlements is Godric's Hollow.

This southwestern village is the birthplace of the great wizard Godric Gryffindor and where wizard goldsmith Bowman Wright created the first Golden Snitch.

The surnames of ancient wizarding families are engraved on the cemetery, which is undoubtedly the reason why the chapel has been filled with ghost stories for many centuries.

"You and your parents are not mentioned," Hermione said, closing the book, "because Professor Bagshot only wrote until the end of the nineteenth century.

But have you seen it?

Godric's Hollow, Godric Gryffindor, the sword of Gryffindor, don't you think Dumbledore would want you to associate it that way?"

"Oh yes……"

Harry didn't want to admit that he hadn't actually thought of the sword when he proposed a trip to Godric's Hollow. For him, the attractions of that village were his parents' graves, the house where he survived, and Bathilda Bagshot.

this person.

"Remember what Muriel said?"

Harry asked suddenly, but Hermione was stunned for a moment.

"who?"

"You know," he hesitated, not wanting to say Ron's name: "Ginny's aunt, at the wedding, was the one who said your ankle bones were too prominent."

"oh."

It was a very awkward moment: Harry knew she felt Ron's name almost appear.

He continued hastily: "She said Bathilda Bagshot still lives in Godric's Hollow."

"Bathilda Bagshot," Hermione murmured, gently touching the author's name embossed on the cover of "History of Magic" with her index finger, wondering in her mind whether this person was the snake that Jon asked her to meet.

After all, a possessed person is more reliable at capturing an old lady than any other person: "Well, I think-"

Thinking of this, she took a sharp breath, which made Harry's heart churn.

He pulled out his wand and looked back towards the entrance of the tent, expecting to see a hand reaching through the curtain, but there was nothing.

"what?"

He said, both annoyed and relieved: "Why did you do that? I thought you saw a Death Eater holding the tent door open, at least-"

"Harry, what if Bathilda had that sword? What if Dumbledore had entrusted it to her?"

Harry considered the possibility. Bathilda would be a very old woman now, and according to Muriel, she was still "confused."

Could Dumbledore have hidden Gryffindor's sword in her place?

If that were the case, Harry felt it would be too risky.

Dumbledore never revealed that he had dropped his sword, or even mentioned his friendship with Bathilda.

But this was no time to doubt Hermione's reasoning, as she unexpectedly agreed with Harry's most fervent wishes.

"Yes, it's possible! Then, shall we go to Godric's Hollow?"

"Go, but be careful, Harry."

She was sitting upright now, and Harry could see that having a plan lifted her mood as much as his.

"First of all, we have to wear the Invisibility Cloak and apparate together. The Disembodiment Charm may also be useful, or do you recommend using Polyjuice Potion all the way?

Then you have to get other people's hair.

Well, I think we'd better get some, Harry, the more disguises the better..."

Harry let her talk, nodding in agreement whenever she paused, but his mind had already left the conversation, because for the first time since he discovered that the Gringotts sword was a fake, he became excited.

He was going home, to the place where he had a home.

If Voldemort hadn't been there, he would have grown up in Godric's Hollow and spent every holiday.

He will invite friends over to play...maybe even younger siblings...

It will be his mother who makes him a cake for his seventeenth birthday.

Never had the life he had lost been more real than at the thought of visiting the place where it had all been taken away from him.

That night after Hermione went to bed, Harry quietly took out his backpack from the beaded pouch and dug out the photo album Hagrid had given him long ago.

For the first time in months, he looked at the old photos of his parents. They were smiling and waving to him, and that was all he had left to remember them.

Harry wanted to go to Godric's Hollow the next day, but Hermione had other ideas.

She believed that Voldemort knew that Harry would go to the place where his parents died to pay his respects, so she insisted on ensuring that the disguise was as complete as possible before setting off.

So, after a full week - after they stole hair from Muggles shopping before Christmas, and practiced Apparition and Apparition under the Invisibility Cloak together - Hermione agreed to set off.

They were to Apparate to the village under cover of darkness, so at dusk the two drank the Polyjuice Potion. Harry turned into a bald, middle-aged Muggle, and Hermione turned into his skinny, slightly mouse-like self.

's wife.

She wore a tightly buttoned coat, with the small beaded bag containing all their belongings (except for the Horcrux Harry wore around his neck) tucked into the inner pocket of the coat.

Harry put the Invisibility Cloak over the two of them, and then they spun together into the suffocating darkness.

His heart jumped to his throat, and Harry opened his eyes.

They were standing hand in hand in a snowy alley, with the dark blue sky above their heads, and the first stars were already twinkling.

Some houses stand on both sides of the narrow alley, with Christmas decorations shining in the windows.

Not far ahead, golden street lights showed that it was the center of the village.

"So much snow!"

Hermione whispered under the invisibility cloak: "Why didn't we think of snow?

No matter how hard you calculate, you will still leave footprints!

They must be destroyed - you go ahead, I'll do it -"

Harry didn't want to go into the village like a pair of fake horses in a pantomime, covering his body with something and using magic to cover up his tracks as he walked.

"Take off the invisibility cloak," Harry said, seeing Hermione looking scared: "Oh, it's okay, we have transformed and there is no one around."

He stuffed the invisibility cloak inside his coat, and the two of them walked forward without restraint.

The cold air pricked my cheeks as I passed more houses along the way: any of them might have been where James and Lily once lived, or where Bathilda now lives.

Harry looked at the snowy front door, roof, and porch, asking himself if he could remember anything, even though deep down he knew it was impossible, as he was only a little over a year old.

He didn't even know if he could still see the house, and he didn't know what would happen after the person who had been cast by the Loyalty Curse died.

The alley turned to the left, and a small square, the center of the village, appeared in front of them.

There is a war monument-like building in the center of the square, half-hidden behind a Christmas tree in the wind, with colored lights hung around it. There are several shops, a post office, a bar, and a small church, with stained glass windows radiating across the square.

Jewelry-like brilliance.

The snow here is compacted: the places where people have stepped on it all day are hard and slippery.

Villagers crisscrossed in front of them, illuminated briefly by street lamps.

There were fragments of laughter and pop music as the bar door opened and closed, and carols were heard singing in the chapel.

"Harry, today is Christmas Eve!"

"Yeah?"

He had forgotten the date, and neither had read a newspaper in weeks.

"I'm sure."

Hermione said, looking towards the church: "They... they'll be there, won't they?

Your parents?

I can see the cemetery behind that."

Harry felt a shiver, more like fear than excitement.

Now that they were so close, he didn't know if he wanted to see it or not.

Maybe Hermione understood how he felt, so she took his hand and led the way for the first time, pulling him forward.

But when she reached the middle of the square, she suddenly stopped.

"Harry, look!"

She pointed to the monument. As they walked past, it changed. It was no longer an obelisk with names engraved on it, but became statues of three people: a man with unkempt hair and glasses;

A woman with long hair, beautiful and kind appearance, and a baby boy sitting in her mother's arms.

Snowflakes fell on the heads of the three of them, like fluffy white velvet hats.

Harry walked closer and stared into his parents' faces.

He never thought there would be a sculpture... How strange to see himself carved in stone, a happy baby with no scars on his head...

"Let's go."

After admiring enough, Harry said. The two continued to walk towards the church. When crossing the street, he looked back and saw that the statue had become a war memorial again.

As he approached the church, the singing became louder and louder. Harry's throat became tight. He thought so strongly of Hogwarts, of Peeves roaring Christmas carols from his armor, and of the twelve trees in the Great Hall.

The Christmas tree, I thought of Dumbledore wearing the millinery he won by pulling out firecrackers, and I thought of Ron wearing a hand-knitted sweater...

There is a narrow door at the entrance to the cemetery.

Hermione pushed it open as gently as possible and the two of them got in.

The path leading to the church door was slippery, with deep snow on both sides and untrodden.

They walked through the snow and carefully followed the shadows under the bright windows to the back of the house, leaving deep grooves behind them.

Behind the church, rows of snow-covered tombstones stand on a light blue silver carpet, dotted with dazzling red, gold and green light spots, which are the projection of stained glass on the snow.

Harry held his wand in his pocket and walked towards the nearest tombstone.

"Look at this, the surname is Aibo, maybe he is Hannah's lost relative!"

"Keep your voice down."

The two walked through the snow toward the depths of the cemetery, leaving deep black traces on the snow.

They bent down to read the inscriptions on the ancient tombstones, and occasionally looked into the darkness around them to make sure there was no one else around.

"Harry, here!"

Hermione was two rows of tombstones away, so he had to go back with great effort, his heart pounding against his chest.

"Yes or no--"

"No, but look!"

She pointed to the dark stone. Harry bent down and saw that on the frozen, moss-mottled granite, there was the inscription of Kandra Dumbledore, with the birth and death dates below and his daughter Ariana. There was also a motto.

:

Wherever the treasure is, there is also the heart

Well, Rita Skeeter and Muriel were somewhat right.

The Dumbledore family did live here, and someone died here.

Seeing this grave was even sadder than when he heard about it. Harry couldn't help but feel excited. Both he and Dumbledore had deep roots buried in this cemetery.

Dumbledore should have told him this, but he never wanted to reveal the relationship.

They could have visited this place together, and for a moment Harry imagined what kind of friendship it would be to come here with Dumbledore, and how much it would mean to him.

However, to Dumbledore, the fact that their relatives were lying in the same cemetery seemed to be just an unimportant coincidence, and perhaps had nothing to do with what he wanted Harry to do.

Hermione was looking at him, and Harry was thankful that his face was in darkness.

He read the words on the tombstone again.

Where the treasure is, there is the heart.

But he didn't understand what he meant.

This must have been the inscription chosen by Dumbledore, who had become the head of the family after his mother's death.

"Are you sure he never mentioned—?"

"No," Harry said shortly, "keep looking."

He turned and walked away, hoping that he had not seen the stone tablet. He did not want his excited tremors to be contaminated by resentment.