HP Approaches the Magical World

Chapter 887-Godric Valley

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

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

But he turned his head and saw Ron's empty bed, attracting his eyes like a corpse on the road.

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

Hermione was already busy in the kitchen, and when Harry walked by, she didn't say good morning to him, but turned her head hastily.

he's gone.

Harry said to himself.

he's gone.

When washing his face and dressing, he couldn't stop thinking about it all the time, as if repeating it would relieve the blow a little.

He is gone and will not come back. It was a simple fact, Harry knew, because their protective magic meant that as soon as they left this place, Ron would not be able to find them.

He and Hermione finished their breakfast in silence. Hermione's eyes were red and swollen, and she seemed to have stayed up all night.

As the two packed up, Hermione dangled, and Harry knew why she wished to procrastinate by the river.

Because he found her raising her head eagerly several times, he believed that she was deceiving herself, thinking that she had heard footsteps in the heavy rain.

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

And every time Harry looked around like her (actually he couldn't help holding a little hope), but only saw the rain-washed woods, a little anger erupted in his heart.

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

So he continued to pack his clothes, like a hard bump in his heart.

The turbid river rose rapidly, and it would soon overflow their embankment.

The two stayed an hour longer than normal.

Finally, after opening the beaded pouch and reloading it three times, Hermione seemed to be unable to find any more reason to delay. She and Harry Apparated hand in hand and appeared on a heathery and windy hillside.

Once there, Hermione let go of Harry's hand, walked away from him, and finally sat on a large rock, her face in her lap, her body trembling.

Harry knew she was crying.

He looked at her and felt that he should comfort her, but he didn't know what made him stay in place.

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

Harry strode through the heathland, circled the emotionally disturbed Hermione in a large circle, casting the spell she used to 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 would be useless to mention it.

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

Harry began to take out the map of the point of survival, and looked at it with his wand.

He was waiting for the black spot marked Ron to appear in the Hogwarts corridor, proving that he had returned to the comfortable castle, protected by his pure-blood status.

However, Ron did not appear on the map.

After a while, Harry discovered that he took out the map just to stare at Ginny’s name in the girls’ dormitory. He didn’t know if his eager gaze could enter her dream, making her feel that he was missing her. May her everything it is good.

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

But the more the discussion, the more desperate and far-fetched their guess.

No matter how hard he knocked his head, Harry couldn't remember where Dumbledore had mentioned hiding things.

Sometimes he doesn’t know if it’s Ron or Dumbledore that makes him more angry, we think you know what you’re doing...

We thought Dumbledore told you what to do...

We thought you had a real plan!

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

They found a Horcrux, but there was no way to destroy it, and the others were as difficult to find as before.

Despair seemed to engulf him. Harry was surprised to think about it now, he was so self-righteous that he let two friends accompany him on this aimless journey.

He didn't know anything, he had no idea, he had been painfully guarding against any signs, fearing that Hermione would also come and tell him that she had had enough and was leaving.

Many nights, they almost spent in silence, Hermione often took out the portrait of Phineas Nigelles and put it on a chair, as if he could fill the huge hole left by Ron's departure. Similar.

Although Phineas Nigelles threatened to never come again last time, he seemed unable to resist this 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 the kind of sarcasm.

They like to hear any news that happens at Hogwarts, but Phineas Nigelles is not a good reporter.

He admired Snape-it was the first principal from Slytherin since he himself took charge of the school.

Harry and the others must be careful not to criticize Snape or ask questions that are disrespectful to him, otherwise Phineas Nigelles will immediately leave the screen.

However, he still revealed some snippets.

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

Ginny was barred from entering Hogsmeade.

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

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

The sporadic news made Harry so eager to see Ginny, almost thinking of the degree of stomachache, but also made him think of Ron, of Dumbledore, and of Hogwarts. He missed the school almost exactly. As strong as his girlfriend.

Really, when Phineas Nigelles talked about Snape’s repressive measures, Harry had a moment of madness.

He imagined going back to school to take part in the act of messing up Snape: having a full meal, sleeping in a soft bed, and having someone else's responsibility seemed to be the most wonderful life in the world.

But he immediately remembered that he was the number one bad guy, wanted by a reward of 10,000 Jin Jialong, and now walking into Hogwarts is as dangerous as walking into the Ministry of Magic.

Phineas Nigelles inadvertently emphasized the fact that he used leading questions to find out where Harry and Hermione were.

Whenever this happened, Hermione would tuck him back into the beaded pouch.

After such a rude seeing off, Phineas Nigelles always refused to show up for a few days.

The weather is getting cold.

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

Halfway up the mountain, freezing rain is beating the tent;

Swamp, cold water poured into the tent;

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

They had seen the Christmas tree shining from several living room windows, and one night, Harry finally resolved to mention again that in his opinion was the only way left.

Having just finished a rare meal and filled with spaghetti and canned pears, Harry thought she might be a little more moved now than usual.

And he had carefully proposed in advance not to wear the Horcrux for a few hours, and it was hanging on the bedside next to him.

"Hermione?"

"Ok?"

She was curled up in a sunken armchair, reading "The Collection of Stories of Poetry Weng Pidou".

Harry couldn't imagine what else she could read from that book, it was not very thick after all.

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

Harry cleared his throat, feeling as if he hadn't gotten permission from the Dursleys a few years ago, but asked Professor McGonagall if he could go to Hogsmeade.

"Hermione, I've been thinking about—"

"Harry, can you do me a favor?"

Apparently she didn't listen to him.

She leaned forward, holding the "Story of Poetry and Pidou", trying to make herself appear less deliberate. Time was almost time, and Harry needed to be guided in one direction to think.

"Look at that symbol."

She pointed to the top of a page. Above the text that was supposed to be 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 taken an ancient rune class, Hermione."

"I know, but it's not Rune, and it's not in the phonetic list.

I always thought it was a pattern of an eye, but now I don't think it is!

It is a mark made of ink. Look, someone drew it up, not the content of the book. Think about it, have you seen it? "

"No...no, wait."

Harry took a closer look: "Isn't this the same as Luna's father's neck?"

"Well, I think so too!"

"That is the mark of Grindelwald."

She stared at him, her mouth opened wide.

"what?"

"Krum told me..."

He retelled the story Victor Krum told him at the wedding, and Hermione looked surprised.

"Grindelwald's mark?"

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

"I have never heard of a logo in Grindelwald, and I have never mentioned it in the relevant information."

"I said, Krum thinks that the symbol was carved on Durmstrang's wall and it was carved by Grindelwald."

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

"That's very strange.

If it is a symbol of black magic, how can it be in a children's story book? "

"Yeah, it's weird."

Fortunately, Harry always followed her thoughts: "And it stands to reason that Scrimgeour will recognize it.

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

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

The titles of other stories have small patterns on them. "

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

"Hermione?"

"Well?"

"I keep thinking, I—I want to go to Godric Valley."

She looked up at him, her eyes didn’t gather, but she was actually relieved in her heart. She had been thinking about how to lead Harry to talk about this topic, but now it looks like Jon said, Harry Want to go to that place more than she does.

It's just that Hermione appeared to be apathetic, so Harry decided that she was still thinking about the mysterious sign on the book.

"Yeah," she said immediately, as if she was afraid of Harry changing his mind: "Yeah, I'm also thinking about this, I really think we should go."

"Did you hear me clearly?"

"Of course, you want to go to Godric Valley.

I agree.

I think we should go.

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

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

"Uh—what could be there?"

At this moment, she looked as confused as he was just now.

"That sword, Harry!

Dumbledore must know that you would want to go back there, and besides, Godric Valley is the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor—"

"Really? Gryffindor was born in Godric Valley?"

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

"Well," Harry smiled, as if smiling for the first time in months, his facial muscles stiffened, and it felt weird: "I might have opened it. When I first bought it...just that time..."

"But the village was named after him, I thought you might be able to connect it."

Hermione said that she did not show a state of guilty conscience, so there was no problem when she spoke. It was just a little strange, but it sounded much closer to her old style, which made Harry almost wait for her to announce that she was going to book. The museum is out: "A little bit about that village was mentioned in "The History of Magic", wait..."

She opened the beaded bag, touched it for a while, and finally pulled out a good old textbook: Bathilda Bagshot's "History of Magic", and turned to the page she was looking for.

After the "International Secrecy Act" was signed and entered into force in 1689, the wizards were completely hidden. Perhaps naturally, they formed their own small community within the community.

Many small villages have attracted a few 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, all have wizarding families living together in tolerant and sometimes confounding spells. Life in the middle of Muggles.

Perhaps the most famous among such semi-wizard settlements is Godric's Valley.

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

The cemetery is engraved with the surnames of the ancient wizard families, which is undoubtedly the reason why the little church has had ghost stories for many centuries.

"There is no mention of you and your parents," Hermione closed the book and said, "because Professor Bagshot only wrote until the end of the nineteenth century.

But did you see it?

Godric Valley, Godric Gryffindor, Gryffindor’s sword, don’t you think Dumbledore would like you to associate it like this? "

"Oh yes…"

Harry didn’t want to admit that he didn’t expect the sword when he proposed to go to Godric Valley. For him, the attraction of that village was his parents’ tombs, his dying house, and Bathilda Bagshot. this person.

"Remember what Muriel said?"

Harry asked suddenly, but Hermione was taken aback.

"Who?"

"You know," he hesitated, not wanting to say Ron's name: "Ginny's aunt, at the wedding, that's the one whose ankle is too prominent."

"Oh."

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

He hurriedly continued: "She said Bathilda Bagshot still lives in Godric Valley."

"Bahida Bagshot," Hermione murmured, and her index finger gently stroked the author's name embossed on the cover of "History of Magic", wondering in her heart whether this person would Jon let her meet the snake Possessed people, after all, it’s always more reliable to take down an old lady than to take down others: "Well, I think—"

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

He pulled out his wand and looked back at the entrance of the tent, thinking he would see a hand coming in through the curtain, but there was nothing.

"what?"

He said, both annoyed and relieved: "Why are you doing that? I thought you saw Death Eaters pulling the tent door, at least—"

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

Harry considered this possibility. Bathilda should be a very old lady now, and according to Muriel, she is still old "confused".

Would Dumbledore hide Gryffindor's sword in her?

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

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

But now was not the time to doubt Hermione's reasoning, she was unexpectedly agreeing to Harry's most ardent desire.

"Yes, it is possible! Then, shall we go to Godric Valley?"

"Go, but it must be thoughtful, Harry."

She was sitting upright now, and Harry could see that there was another plan that made her feel as excited as his.

"First of all, we have to apparate together with our invisibility cloak. The phantom spell may also be useful, or do you advocate using compound decoctions all the way?

Then you have to get other people's hair.

Hey, I think we'd better do something, Harry, the more disguise the better..."

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

He is going home, going back to the place where he once had a home.

Without Voldemort, he would have grown up in Godric Valley and spent every vacation.

He will invite friends to come and play at home...maybe even younger brothers and sisters...

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

Because of the thought of going to visit the place where all this was taken away, the life he lost has never been more real than it is at this moment.

After Hermione went to bed that night, Harry quietly took out his backpack from the beaded pouch and found the photo album Hagrid gave him a long time ago.

For the first time in a few months, he looked at old photos of his parents. They were smiling and waving at him, and he only had so much memory left.

Harry wanted to go to Godric Valley the next day, but Hermione had other opinions.

She believed that Voldemort expected Harry to go to the place where his parents died, so she insisted on making sure that the disguise was full before setting off.

So, a whole week later—they stole hair from the muggles they shopped before Christmas, and they practiced apparition and reshaping under the invisibility cloak together—Hermione agreed to set off.

They were going to Apparate to the village under the cover of darkness, so at dusk the two drank the compound soup. Harry became a bald middle-aged Muggle, and Hermione became his skinny and small, a bit like a mouse. Wife.

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

Harry put the invisibility cloak on the two of them, and then they whirled together into the suffocating darkness.

His heart beat to his throat and Harry opened his eyes.

They stood hand in hand in a snow-covered alley, with a dark blue sky above their heads, and the first stars were already gleaming.

Some houses stand on both sides of narrow alleys, and the Christmas decorations in the windows are shining.

Not far ahead, a golden street light 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?

Thousands of calculations will still leave footprints!

They must be sold out—you go ahead and I will—"

Harry didn't want to enter the village like a fake horse in a pantomime, covered with something, and used magic to cover his tracks as he walked.

"Take off the invisibility cloak," Harry said, seeing Hermione appear scared: "Oh, it's okay, we changed shape and there was no one around."

He tucked the invisibility cloak into his coat, and the two of them walked forward without fetters.

The cold air pierced the cheeks like needles, passing more houses along the way: any of them could have been where James and Lily had lived, or that Bathilda lived now.

Harry looked at the snow-covered front doors, roofs and porches, and asked if he could remember one or two, although deep down he knew it was impossible, he was just over a year old.

He didn't even know if he could still see the house or what would happen after the death of the person who had been casted on the Curse of Fidelity.

The alley turned left, and a small square in 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 the Christmas tree in the wind, surrounded by colorful lights. There are several shops, a post office, a bar, and a small church, and the square of stained glass radiates a jewel-like light.

The snow here is compacted: the place where people have stepped on for a day is hard and slippery.

The villagers criss-crossed in front of them, briefly illuminated by street lights.

Fragments of laughter and pop music came out when the bar door opened and closed, and carols were sung in the chapel.

"Harry, today is Christmas Eve!"

"is it?"

He has forgotten the date, and neither of them has read the newspaper for several weeks.

"I can be sure."

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

Your mom and dad?

I can see the cemetery behind that. "

Harry felt a shudder, which was more than excitement, it was more like fear.

He was so close now, he didn't know whether he wanted to watch it.

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

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

"Harry, look!"

She pointed to the monument. As they walked by, it changed. It was no longer an obelisk full of names, but a statue of three people: a man with disheveled hair and glasses, and a man with long hair and a beautiful and kind face. Woman, and a baby boy sitting in her mother's arms.

Snow fell on the three of them, like fluffy white woolen hats.

Harry stepped closer, staring at his parents' faces.

He never thought that there would be a sculpture... how strange, seeing himself carved in stone, a happy baby, without scars on his head...

"Let's go."

After paying enough respect, Harry said. The two continued to walk towards the church. When he crossed the street, he looked back and the statue became a war memorial again.

As he approached the church, the singing became louder and louder, and Harry's voice tightened. He thought of Hogwarts so strongly, of Peppy roaring Christmas carols from his armor, and of the twelve trees in the auditorium. The Christmas tree, thinking of Dumbledore wearing the hat that he won with the cradle and firecrackers, thinking of Ron wearing a hand-knitted sweater...

There is a narrow gate at the entrance of the cemetery.

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

The path leading to the door of the church was slippery, with deep snow on both sides, without being trampled on.

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

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

Harry squeezed his wand in his pocket and walked towards the nearest gravestone.

"Look at this, the last name is Aibo, maybe Hannah's lost relatives!"

"Be quiet."

The two walked deep into the cemetery on the snow, leaving deep black trails on the snow.

They bent down to look at the inscriptions on the ancient tombstones, and sometimes looked into the surrounding darkness to make sure that there were no others.

"Harry, here!"

Hermione is beyond the two rows of tombstones, UU reading www. uukanshu.com he had to return with great effort, his heart pounding against his chest.

"is not it-"

"No, but look!"

She pointed at the dark stele, and Harry bent down and saw Candela Dumbledore carved on the icy, mossy granite, with his daughter Ariana at the bottom of the date of birth and death. There is also a saying:

Where is the treasure, where is the heart

So, Rita Skeeter and Muriel were right.

The Dumbledore family did live here, and some people died here.

Seeing this tomb was even sadder than he had heard, Harry couldn't help his heart ebb and flow. Both he and Dumbledore were deeply rooted in this cemetery.

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

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

However, for Dumbledore, their relatives lying on the same cemetery seemed to be an unimportant coincidence, perhaps irrelevant to what he wanted Harry to do.

Hermione was looking at him, and Harry was glad that his face was in the dark.

He read the words on the tombstone again.

Where is the treasure, where is the heart.

But he didn't understand the meaning of these words.

This must be the inscription chosen by Dumbledore, who became the head of the family after his mother died.

"Are you sure he never mentioned—?"

"No," Harry said briefly, "Let's look for it."

He turned and walked away, hoping that he hadn't seen the stone tablet, and he didn't want his excitement and trembling to be contaminated with resentment.

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