They walked on, but Hermione's mind was preoccupied with another question. She was still waiting for that person to appear, though that person had not yet appeared.
Would that Najini person really appear here?
The thought lingered in her mind, along with suspicion and impulsiveness. She was tempted to reach into her beaded bag and take out her notebook to ask Jon. But Jon had said that he would be very busy for a while and might not be able to hear from her, so it was best not to disturb him.
But Hermione did not know what to do.
The winter air was very cold. The bone-chilling cold and the pain of the cold wind entering her nasal cavity was very uncomfortable. She couldn't help but gather her clothes and scarf, but then she smelled another smell.
It was a fishy smell.
It was not pungent, it was simpler. She had smelled it before.
Not long ago.
It was on the woman called Nagini.
She looked around and found the source of the smell.
Then she pulled the boy back.
"Harry, stop."
"What is it?"
Harry asked. They had just arrived at the tomb of the unknown Ai Bo.
"Someone's there. Someone's watching us. I can feel it.
There, by the bushes. "
They stood motionless, holding each other, staring at the edge of the dark graveyard.
But Harry saw nothing.
"Are you sure?"
"I see something moving, I could swear …"
Hermione pulled away from Harry, freeing her wand-holding arm.
"We look like Muggle."
"The Muggle who just put flowers on your parents' grave!
Harry, I believe there's someone there! "
Harry thought of The History of Magic. It said that graveyards were haunted. What if —?
Then he heard a rustle, and saw a little swirl of snowflakes between the bushes where Hermione had pointed. Ghosts couldn't move snow.
"It's a cat."
After a second or two, Harry said, "Or a bird.
If it was a Death Eater, we'd be dead by now.
But … let's get out of here. We can put on the Invisibility Cloak. "
Hermione agreed because she felt that the aura had disappeared. It was as if the appearance of the aura had only been to give her a reminder.
He gave Hermione a heads up and told her that everything was ready.
That was probably what he meant.
Well, if that was the case, she could accept it.
They walked forward, but the two of them kept looking back as they walked out of the graveyard.
Harry was not as sanguine as he had been in reassuring Hermione, but he was relieved to step out onto the slippery flagstones at the door.
The two put on the Invisibility Cloak. There were more customers in the bar than before, and many voices were singing the hymn they had heard in front of the church.
Harry was about to suggest that they go in and hide, but before he could speak, Hermione whispered, "This way," and pulled him into a dark street.
It led out of the village in the opposite direction from the way they had come in.
Harry could see where the houses disappeared and the streets gave way to fields.
They walked so fast that they dared not go any faster. They passed more windows with flashing lights, and the silhouette of a Christmas tree appeared behind the curtains.
"How do we find Bashida's house?"
Hermione asked. She was now sure of who she was looking for, but in such cold weather, she shivered a little and kept looking back. After all, that person came from Voldemort's side, and there was no guarantee that there wouldn't be any Death Eaters following them.
What if there were?
After all, it was better to be mentally and mentally prepared. She was a little nervous because Jon had told her that no matter what happened, she must ensure her own safety. Even if Jon could protect them, he might not be there in time when something really happened.
The incident with the Ministry of Magic was an example.
But Harry seemed to be in a daze, which made Hermione tease him. "Harry? What do you think? Harry? "
There was no response. She tugged at his arm again, but Harry did not notice.
He was looking at a dark shadow at the end of the row of houses. Then he quickened his pace and dragged Hermione over. She slipped on the ice.
"Harry —"
"Look … look, Hermione …"
"I didn't … Oh!"
He saw it.
The Loyalty Spell must have failed with the deaths of Jaime and Lily.
In the sixteen years since Hagrid had carried Harry away from the ruins, the hedges had grown out of order, and the rubble was waist-deep in the weeds.
Most of the house was still standing, completely under dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top room had been blown up, and Harry thought that must be where the spell had bounced back.
He and Hermione stood in the doorway, admiring the ruin, which must have been like the houses on either side.
"Why hasn't anyone rebuilt it?"
Hermione sighed in a small voice.
"Maybe it can't be rebuilt?"
Harry answered. "Maybe it's like the kind of damage caused by black magic that can't be repaired?"
He reached a hand out from under the Cloak and grabbed the snow-covered, rusted iron door, not wanting to open it, just holding on to part of the house.
"You're not going in, are you?
It doesn't look safe, maybe — Oh, Harry, look! "
It seemed to be his hand on the door that had caused it: a wooden sign rose from the ground in front of them, bursting through the tangle of nettles and weeds like some strange, rapidly growing flower. In gold letters on the sign it read:
October 31, 1981
Here Lily and Jaime Potter Died
Their son, Harry, was the only
A sorcerer who survived the Killing Curse.
The house, invisible to Muggle, has been preserved as it was,
In memory of the Potters,
And as a warning against the violence that destroyed their home
Beside the neat handwriting were various inscriptions, all written by Wizard's who had come to pay homage to the place where the "Boy Who Escaped Death" had escaped.
Some had simply written their names in indelible ink, others had carved their initials on the sign, and still others had written messages.
The more recent ones glittered on sixteen years' worth of magical graffiti, and the message was more or less the same.
Good luck, Harry, wherever you are.
Hope you can read it, Harry. We're all with you!
Long live Harry Potter.
"They shouldn't have written it on the sign!"
Hermione said crossly.
But Harry smiled brightly at her.
"Very well, I'm glad they did. I —"
He paused. A heavily wrapped figure staggered towards him from the side street, a dark silhouette in the light of the square in the distance.
It was hard to tell, but Harry thought it was a woman.
She walked slowly, perhaps afraid of slipping in the snow.
Her stooped figure, her bloated form, her tottering gait, gave the impression of being very old.
They watched her approach in silence, Harry waiting to see if she would turn into one of the houses by the road, but instinctively knowing that she would not.
At last she stopped a few metres away, standing in the middle of the frozen street, facing them.
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