Chapter 1275

Bathilda was now a very old woman, strictly speaking, among witches, she was considered to be one of the oldest.

And as Muriel said, she was "enthusiastic".

Could Dumbledore have asked her to hide the Sword of Gryffindor? If so, Harry felt that Dumbledore had left a lot of variables.

Dumbledore had never shown that he would leave a fake sword in its place, let alone mention his friendship with Bathilda.

But in any case, now was not the time to doubt Hermione's statement; nor was it the time not to ask when her ideas were surprisingly consistent with his own.

Harry looked up and glanced at Vanlin inadvertently. In the flashing eyes of the two people, Harry immediately confirmed his own thoughts.

"Yes, he might! So, are we going to Godric's Hollow?"

"Of course, but we must think it through carefully from beginning to end, Harry." Hermione sat up, and Harry was sure that the new plan had rekindled her enthusiasm, just like himself.

"We need to practice Apparition in the Invisibility Cloak together..."

"Not only that, as a start...the Disillusionment Charm might also make sense, unless you think we're going to use Polyjuice Potion completely? In that case we need to collect someone's hair. In fact, I think it's better not to do that. The more we move, the more trouble we'll cause." Vanlin added.

"Yes, but just in case, I think we still need to prepare some Muggle hair, at least it can help us change our appearance... and I'm afraid we have to be prepared to be exposed." Hermione paused slightly, "God knows how many people Voldemort will leave there waiting for us..."

Harry didn't interrupt, just let Hermione continue talking, nodding in agreement at every pause, but his attention had long left the conversation.

This was the first time he felt excited after discovering that the sword in Gringotts was an illusion.

If it weren't for Voldemort, Harry would have grown up in Godric's Hollow and spent every holiday. He could have invited his friends to visit... maybe even had a brother or sister... his seventeenth birthday cake would have been made by his mother herself.

When he found that he had to go back to the place that originally belonged to him, the life he had lost was presented to him more realistically than ever before.

However, inexplicably, Harry became a little uneasy, because when he really decided to go, Harry was a little scared.

He had been there countless times in his dreams, but these were all not very good memories.

That night, after Vanlin and Hermione fell asleep, Harry quietly took out his canvas bag from Hermione's pearl bag, and inside was the album Hagrid had given him a long time ago.

For the first time in a few months, Harry looked at his parents' old photos seriously. They smiled and waved to him, and those were the past that he could no longer have.

Harry would be very happy if he set off for Godric's Hollow the next morning. But Hermione had other ideas. She was sure that Voldemort must be looking forward to Harry returning to the site of his parents' death, so she insisted that they could only set off after they were impeccably disguised.

So they were a whole week late... They got hair from innocent Muggles who were doing Christmas shopping, and then practiced Apparition together under the Invisibility Cloak. Vanlin taught them how to use the Disillusionment Charm more quickly, after all, the Invisibility Cloak was just an external object, and they couldn't wear it all the time...

All the training that Hermione insisted on.

They had to wait until night fell over the village before they could reveal themselves, so they swallowed the Polyjuice Potion at dusk.

Harry turned into a bald middle-aged male Muggle, Hermione turned into his thin, mouse-like wife, and Vanlin used Animagus directly, after all, adding a person to the combination of two old people would look strange.

Hermione stuffed the beaded bag containing all their property into the pocket of her coat, holding Vanlin's transformed white cat, and then Harry covered the Invisibility Cloak on the two of them, and then they entered the suffocating darkness again.

This time the Apparition seemed particularly long, and the oppression brought by the journey across space made the three people uncomfortable.

This reminded Fanlin of the last time he Apparated directly from the outskirts of London to the Vatican, which was probably the worst trip.

When they opened their eyes again, Harry could clearly feel his heart pounding in his throat.

Hermione put one hand on Harry's arm and the other hand on her pet. The two stood on the snow-covered country road, and the stars twinkled faintly on the dark blue sky.

The cottages were scattered on both sides of the narrow road, Christmas decorations flashed in the windows, and not far ahead, the golden street lights pointed to the center of the village.

"Oh, my God, there is snow everywhere!" Hermione whispered under the invisibility cloak, "Why didn't we consider the snow? With so many precautions, we will still leave footprints! We have to get rid of them... You go first, I'll clean it up..."

Harry didn't want to enter the village like a pantomime horse. In fact, it was stupid, wasn't it?

"Take off the Invisibility Cloak," Harry said calmly, noticing Hermione's horrified expression. "Oh, take it off, we don't look like who we really are, and there's not a lot of people around here."

Harry put the Invisibility Cloak into his jacket and began to move forward without any hindrance.

The cold air stung their faces. They passed more cottages, each one a possible place where James and Lily had lived, or where Bagshot lived now.

Harry stared at the front doors, the snow-covered roofs and porches, wondering if he could remember anything, but deep down he knew that it was impossible, because he had left here forever when he was a little over a year old.

Harry was not even sure he could see the house anymore, and he didn't know what would happen to the Fidelius Charm if the whole thing disappeared.

Their path now curved to the left, and in the center of the village a small square appeared before them.

In the center of the square was what looked like a war memorial, decorated with colorful lights and partly hidden by the shadow of a Christmas tree that was tilted by the wind. There were a few shops nearby, a post office, a pub and a small church, whose stained glass windows shone like gems, illuminating the square.

The snow here was starting to harden: hard and smooth after a day of walking. The villagers crossed themselves, their outlines simple and clear in the streetlights.

In the distance, the three heard laughter, pop music, and the sound of the pub door opening and closing, and then carols came from the church.

"Harry, I think it's Christmas Eve!" Hermione said.

"Really?" He had lost track of time. They hadn't read a newspaper for weeks.

Vanlin gently nudged Hermione with his head and made a soft cry.

"I'm sure," Hermione said softly, pulling out her hand to tidy Vanlin's hair.

Hermione looked beyond the church, "They... they will be there, won't they? Your mom and dad? I can see the cemetery behind the church."

Harry shuddered, feeling more like fear than excitement. Now that he was so close, he doubted whether he really wanted to see it. Maybe Hermione could understand his feelings, because she was holding his hand and pulling him forward, this was the first time.

However, when passing the square, Hermione suddenly stopped.

"Harry, look!" Hermione pointed to the war memorial.

As they passed, the monument disappeared, and the obelisk with its names inscribed on it was replaced by a group of three statues: a man with unkempt hair and glasses; a woman with long hair, friendly and beautiful; and a baby boy, sitting in her arms. Their heads were covered with snow, like white velvet hats.

Harry leaned closer, staring at his parents' faces. He had never imagined that there would be a group of statues here... how strange it was to see his own stone face... a happy baby with no scar on his forehead.

"Let's go," Harry said when he felt satisfied, and they continued to walk towards the church. As they crossed the road, he looked back and the group of statues had once again become a war memorial.

As they approached the church, the singing became louder. Harry's throat tightened. The song made him miss Hogwarts even more. He missed the rude carols sung by Peeves in his armor, the twelve Christmas trees in the hall, Dumbledore wearing a bonnet from a lottery, and Ron wearing a hand-knitted sweater...

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

Hermione pushed it open as gently as possible, and then they passed sideways. The paths on both sides leading to the church gate were covered with thick snow, and no one had ever stepped on them.

They walked through the snow, around the house, hiding in the shadows under the bright windows, leaving deep footprints along the way. Behind the church, there were rows of snow-covered tombstones. Through the stained glass, red, gold, and green spots of light hit the light blue snow. Harry grabbed the wand in his jacket pocket and walked towards the nearest grave.

"Look here, it's the Abbot family, and there may be some long-term connection with Hannah's family!"

"Please keep your voice down." Hermione begged in a low voice.

They gradually trudged deeper into the cemetery, leaving dark footprints behind them, stopping from time to time to read the words on the tombstones, and occasionally glancing at the dark scenery around them from the corner of their eyes. After making sure that no one was following them, the three of them continued to go down.

"Harry, here!" Hermione was two rows of tombstones away from him.

Harry walked towards her with difficulty, his heart beating violently in his chest. "Is that...?"

"No, but look here!" She pointed to a black stone. Harry lowered his head and looked at the cold, moss-covered granite, which was engraved with her birth and death dates, and a little lower was the words "Kendra Dumbledore" and "her daughter Ariana".

There was also a line of obituary: Where your treasure is, there your heart will be.

So Rita Skeeter and Muriel did get some real information. The Dumbledore family did live here, and some of their members were buried here.

Seeing the grave in person was worse than just hearing about it. Harry couldn't help but think that he and Dumbledore both had roots in the same cemetery. Maybe Dumbledore was his neighbor?

They could have visited here together, but unfortunately, there was no chance now.

For a moment, Harry imagined what it would be like to come here with Dumbledore, and how much it would mean to him. But perhaps for Dumbledore, their families standing side by side in the cemetery seemed just an unimportant coincidence, and perhaps it had nothing to do with the task he gave Harry.

Hermione looked at Harry, who was glad that his face was hidden in the shadows. He read the words on the tombstone again: Where your treasure is, there your heart will be.

In fact, Harry did not understand the meaning of these words. But it was certain that Dumbledore, as the oldest member of the family after his mother's death, chose them as epitaphs.

"Are you sure he never mentioned it..." Hermione began to speak, looking at Fanlin uncertainly.

The white cat in her arms nodded very humanely and jumped down.

"I'm sure." Harry replied briefly, "Let's keep looking."

Then Harry turned and walked away. He really hoped that he had never seen this stone: he didn't want his resentment to affect his excitement.

"Here!" A moment later, Hermione screamed again in the dark.

"What's wrong?"

"Sorry, I thought this was..." Hermione was halfway through her words, and Harry walked away dejectedly.

"Wait a minute, Harry, come back again."

Harry didn't want to be led by the nose anymore, and forced his way through the snow towards her.

"What is that?"

"Look at this!" The tombstone was so old that Harry couldn't recognize the name on it. Hermione pointed out the symbol underneath.

"Harry, it's the symbol from the book!"

Harry stared at where she pointed: the tombstone was so worn that it was hard to make out what had been engraved there, although there did look to be a triangular mark underneath the blurred name.

"Yes... it could be..."

Hermione lit her wand and pointed at the words on the tombstone.

"That's Ignatius, I think..."

"I'm going to go find my parents, okay?" Harry said to her a little tartly, and then set off again, leaving Hermione and Vanlin alone... more precisely, a person and a cat squatting next to the old tombstone.

From time to time, Harry would find some familiar surnames, such as Abbott, who had seen them at Hogwarts.

There were so many people buried here.

Sometimes the names of several generations of wizard families would appear in the cemetery at the same time: Harry could tell by the date whether the family had become extinct, or whether the current members had moved from Godric's Hollow to somewhere else.

Harry walked further and further away, and each time he reached a new headstone, he always felt a little apprehensive and expectant.

The darkness and silence seemed to come suddenly, and Harry looked around anxiously, suspecting that it was an invasion of Dementors. Then he realized that the Christmas carols had ended, the chattering people and worshippers were gradually fading away, and the lights in the church had just been turned off.

Then Hermione's voice came from the darkness for the third time, sharp and clear a few yards away.

"Harry, they are here... right here." (To be continued)