Book 7: Harry Potter male reader insert

Chapter 21: The Lady and the Snake

"Harry, stop."

"What's wrong?"

They had only just reached the grave of the unknown Abbott.

"There's someone there. Someone watching us. I can tell. There, over by the bushes."

They stood quite still, holding on to each other, gazing at the dense black boundary of the graveyard. (Y/n) could not see anything.

"Are you sure?"

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

She broke from him to free her wand arm.

"We look like Muggles," Harry pointed out.

"I don't... I could jinx you and run, make it look like I was attacking you " (Y/n) suggested, kicking himself for not transforming back into a raven.

"It won't matter (Y/n), we may look like Muggles but we've  just been laying flowers on Harry's parents' grave? Harry, I'm sure there's someone over there!"

(Y/n) thought of A History of Magic; the graveyard was supposed to be haunted; it was possible. But then he heard a rustle and saw a little bit of dislodged snow in the bush to which Hermione had pointed. Ghosts could not move snow.

"It's a cat," said Harry, after a second or two, "or a bird. If it was a Death Eater we'd be dead by now. But let's get out of here, and we can put the Cloak back on."

They glanced back repeatedly as they made their way out of the graveyard. (Y/n) was glad to reach the gate and the slippery pavement, and loosened his grip on his wand slightly as they pulled the Invisibility Cloak back over themselves.

The pub was fuller than before. Many voices inside it were now singing the carol that they had heard as they approached the church.

Hermione murmured, "Let's go this way," and pulled them down the dark street leading out of the village in the opposite direction from which they had entered. (Y/n) could just barely make out the point where the cottages ended and the lane turned into open country again.

They walked as quickly as they dared, past more windows sparkling with multicolored lights, the outlines of Christmas trees dark through the curtains.

"How are we going to find Bathilda's house?" asked Hermione, who was shivering a little and kept glancing back over her shoulder.

"I don't know, maybe we could try to sneak into a few or something." (Y/n) suggested.

"That would work, it be risky though. Harry? What do you think? Harry?" She tugged at this arm, but Harry was not paying attention.

He was looking toward the dark mass that stood at the very end of this row of houses. Next moment he sped up, dragging Hermione and (Y/n) along with him, she slipped a little on the ice, before (Y/n) caught her arm and steadied her.

"Harry --"

"Look ... Look at it, Hermione ..."

"I don't ... oh!"

He could see it; the Fidelius Charm must have died with James and Lily. The hedge had grown wild and there was rubble that lay scattered amongst the waist-high grass.

Most of the cottage was still standing, though entirely covered in the dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart; that, (Y/n) assumed, was where the curse had backfired.

He Harry and Hermione stood at the gate, gazing up at the wreck of what must once have been a cottage just like those that flanked it.

"I wonder why nobody's ever rebuilt it?" whispered Hermione.