[HP] Crack

"Let's go," Harry said when he had seen enough.They continued on to the church.The ethereal singing became louder and louder, reverberating in the silent night, reminding him of countless Christmases spent at Hogwarts for no reason, those pumpkin pies and hot soup, the happy faces flushed in the snowflakes, decorated with Christmas tree with stars and cherubs...

There was a narrow door at the entrance of the cemetery, and Hermione pulled it open as gently as possible, and the two of them stepped into the deep snow-covered ground silently, walking along rows of neat tombstones.They stood on a blanket of pale blue silver, leaden gray in the bright moonlight.

Hermione soon found a dark stele with Candra Dumbledore engraved on it, with birth and death dates "and daughter Ariana" beneath it, and the motto: Where the treasure is, the heart is also .

Harry's heart skipped a beat.It seemed that Rita Skeeter and Aunt Muriel were at least partly right about the fact that the Dumbledores had indeed lived here, and some had died here.

They all have their roots deeply rooted here, in this ancient land... But he never mentioned it to him, never told him that they had such a fate, as if it was just an insignificant coincidence to him.Harry closed his eyes, his face was dry without a trace of moisture.He wished he hadn't seen the tombstone.

"Are you sure he didn't mention—?" Hermione asked.

"No," he said curtly, "keep looking."

His heart was filled with two contradictory voices, temporarily reaching a balance in the silent night and the silver graveyard.Usually at this time Voldemort would definitely come out to give advice, but this time he didn't, maybe he fell asleep.Harry knew it wasn't.

Will there be his grave here?A strange thought came to him, he died here too, just like them... what will they do with his body, will they give him a grave? ... Even if there is, I'm afraid it won't be in this cemetery, it would be too ridiculous.Maybe they'll ship him back to his hometown, but does he really have a home?He kept his name incognito, and almost couldn't wait to abandon his origin. No one dared to mention his name, and he didn't know who he was...

"Will you pay homage to your own grave?" He asked silently.A snowflake landed on the tip of his nose, but he didn't wipe it off, letting it melt into drops.

"I don't want to argue with you today, Potter," said the voice after a few seconds.Harry took a breath when Hermione yelled from a few meters away, somewhat sharply, "Harry, over here... this way..."

He walked towards her, throwing away those wild thoughts, his heart was heavy, his chest seemed to be squeezed by a stone, and his breathing became stinging.

The tombstone is only two rows away from Candela and Ariana, and like Dumbledore's tomb, it is made of white marble.The inscription on the tombstone shone brightly in the dark, and Harry didn't have to crouch down, or even get very close, to read the inscription.

james potter

Born on March 1960, 3

Died August 1981, 10

lily potter

Born on March 1960, 1

Died August 1981, 10

The last enemy to destroy is death

Harry read the words slowly, his throat constricted, filled with a cold and hot gas.He read the last sentence, frowning: "'The last enemy to destroy is death'... Isn't that what the Death Eaters think? Why is it here?"

"It's not about the Death Eater's way of defeating death, Harry," said Hermione softly. "It's about...you know...life beyond death, dead as alive."

But here is only one tombstone, he thought, they died, buried in the cold ground, leaving their son alone in the world.They won't know that he's looking at them so close, longing to see their faces, to say a word to them... It's all gone, and he's staring at the line "October 1981, 10," which looks like It was a fateful night when everything ended and everything began.

Harry didn't wipe his face, letting the tears flow from the corners of his eyes, soaking the scarf.He lowered his head, and there were their deep footprints in front of the tombstone.Hermione conjured a crystal Christmas wreath with her wand, and Harry placed it in front of the tombstone.

He stood up and wiped away his tears, said "Let's go" in a low voice, not daring to take another look.

As the night deepened, large flakes of snow fell on their shoulders.Harry's eyelashes were smeared with ice crystals, and his lips were so pale that even the scarf would have been useless.

"Harry, stop," called Hermione, who was next to her, putting her arm around his waist. "Look over there, Harry! Someone's watching us over there."

They stopped, and he looked in the direction she was pointing, where there was nothing but darkness.

"you sure--"

"I saw something move, I could have sworn..."

Hermione broke away from him and drew her wand from her arms.

"We look like Muggles," Harry pointed out.

"Muggles who just put flowers on your parents' grave! Harry, I'm sure there are people there!"

He was silent for a while, a cold and strange feeling enveloped his heart, and he tried not to let it affect his thinking.

"A cat, or a bird," he said. "Not a Death Eater anyway, or we'd be dead...but let's put on the cloak, I suppose."

They left the dark cemetery and set foot on the wet stone road.The church carols sounded again, and the lights were still on in the street bars.They quickened their pace across the street, looking back from time to time, past windows flickering with lights, the shadows of Christmas trees looming in the curtains.

"How did you find Bathilda's house?" Hermione trembled. "Harry? What do you think? Harry?"

He didn't answer her, looking at the dark shadow at the end of the row of houses.He quickened his pace unconsciously, pulling Hermione towards it, and she slipped on the ice.

"Harry—"

"Look... look, Hermione..."

"I didn't... oh!"

It was a not tall house, and it had been covered with weeds and moss for 16 years after Hagrid took him away.Most of the house was still silhouetted, completely covered in black ivy and snow, but the right side of the top room was completely blown out, which he guessed was where the spell bounced.

It was a miracle he survived, he thought.

"It seems that the rumor may be true," he said in his mind, not knowing why he thought of this, "I found your charred corpse..."

Surprisingly, Voldemort didn't speak, and Harry couldn't even feel his anger.

He stepped forward and grabbed the rusty iron door from under the invisibility cloak, and the rust stained his hands.He looked up at it, not intending to push it away, just holding part of it like this.

"You're not going in, are you? It doesn't look safe, maybe—oh, Harry, look!"

It seemed to be caused by his hand on the door. A wooden sign emerged from the messy nettles and weeds in front of them, shook off a pile of snow and leaves, and stood unsteadily in front of them, with the words Shining The golden words:

1981 year 10 month 31 day,

lily and james potter died here

Their son Harry is the only one

A wizard who survived the Killing Curse.

The house, invisible to Muggles, was preserved as it was,

To commemorate the Potter couple with this ruin,

And a warning to the violence that left their family shattered.

Beside these beautiful words are filled with various inscriptions, all written by wizards who came to pay their respects to the place where the "Boy Who Lived" narrowly escaped.Some just wrote their names in indelible ink, some carved their initials on a wooden board, and some wrote a message, shining in the night:

Good luck, Harry, wherever you are.

Hope you read it, Harry, we're all behind you!

Long live Harry Potter.

"They shouldn't be on the sign!" said Hermione disapprovingly.

Harry grinned at her. "Fine, I'm glad they did."

He looked down grimly at the boy and girl who were talking, maybe they should be called man and woman now—after all, they took the Polyjuice.He had absorbed enough energy from the boy these days to be able to do things on his own.Gaining energy was a slow process, especially if Harry didn't trust him.For a while he made the boy feel somewhat dependent on him, but not for long.He didn't intend to rely on these to achieve his goal, he knew that the tricks used to confuse ordinary wizards might not be effective for him-he hadn't tried it, but he just had this intuition.

But today would be a good time... to mourn his parents, which would make him let his guard down.And he felt the approach of another familiar force.The opportunity has come...