Haven .|. H. J. POTTER✔

Chapter five

With Harry leaning on her shoulder, one arm around his middle to hold him and the other covering his hands, Haven sat on the grassy floor of Godric's Hollow's graveyard. She wasn't sure how long they sat together but the flow of tears didn't stop for a good while. Haven could tell Harry never cried this much or this violently, as if he only now realised the tremendous loss the war has brought him.

Haven knew of his bad upbringing with some Muggle family so she figured it might have to do something with them but she couldn't be sure. 

Harry's ragged breaths were slowly calming down and he wasn't shaking as bad as before anymore. He dried the tears from his face with the sleeve of his vest and sat back up, only keeping his hand in Haven's. It felt nice. 

"I - er - I'm sorry," He finally mumbled when he dared to look her in the eyes. To his surprise, there was no judgemental look in her eyes as he expected there would be. Once again, Haven sat there as if they were just discussing the weather. Her casualty about just seeing him bawl his eyes out calmed him a lot. 

"Nothing to be sorry for," Haven smiled kindly before averting her gaze to the names engraved in the marble stone. 

"What are you doing here?" Harry then asked, keeping his eyes on Haven's side-profile.

"I was going to visit my parents' grave, wasn't I?" Haven reminded him of what she told him that morning. 

"They - they're buried here?" Harry asked surprised. 

"Well, obviously," Haven grinned, a twinkle adorned her eyes. She raised her arm and pointed further into the graveyard. "They're over there,"

"So you lived here, then?"

Haven nodded.

"All my life," She told him. 

"Even when -"

"Yes, even when you still lived here," Haven interrupted him with a chuckle at his curiosity. "My house was a couple of lanes down yours. Neither of them are intact still, now,"

Harry silenced for a bit. The Goldspears lived a couple of lanes down from where he used to live with his parents, just one year of his life. They must have known each other, the Potters and the Goldspears, they were both in the Order of the Phoenix. 

"Do you know if we knew each other back then?" Harry asked Haven carefully, his eyes going over Haven's hand around his. 

"I think we did," Haven nodded with a frown as she tried to remember something. "My mum had photo albums and I'm pretty sure you and your parents were on a couple of the pictures,"

Harry's eyes lit up with the thought of pictures of his mum and dad but that feeling of hope quickly died down when Haven spoke again.

"It was left in the house when Mum and I fled. I guess it's burnt to a crisp now," Haven let out a sigh. Those photo albums weren't the only things destroyed in the fire. Everything they left behind was gone. Everything.

"Why were the Death Eaters after you exactly?" Harry plucked up the courage to ask without thinking that it might be a sensitive topic. "I know they suspected you were in the Order but the Weasleys were there as well but they weren't hunted down like you were,"

Haven took a deep breath and thought back to that night. They had been invited to Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's wedding but had to politely decline. Ella had told her daughter it wouldn't be long before the Death Eaters would come after them again. 

"My father -" Haven started before sighing and frowning as if she was finding the right words. "He died a couple days before Voldemort came after you. He was on a mission but somehow lost his wand. The Death Eaters found him trying to defend himself with his bare hands which gave them a great reasoning to spread a rumour about him,"