𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝕱𝖆𝖙𝖊

Bagshot and the Silver Doe

"There's someone watching us." For some reason those words sent chills down their spines.

"Behind the church." Hermione added. Many people from the group turned their head discreetly to see who was the stalker. Harry finally pulled his eyes off the gravestones and looked in the direction where the rest were looking. Unexpectedly, he found an old woman turning around from previously standing at his direction and slowly walking away.

Due to it being quite dark outside still, he could barely even make out the lady's features. Yet for some odd reason, Harry felt as if he knew who this was.

"I think I know who it is." Without a second thought, Harry began following her, telling the others to follow him as well. To which Harry'd received hesitant responses of compliance.

In a hushed voice, Harry began to explain briefly of what he knew about Bathilda Bagshot. Most well known for being a historian and author of A History Of Magic.

"Is it just me or does this not feel right..." James started. They were blindly hounding after someone who they weren't even completely sure is the person they think it is. Across a town that's practically lifeless. If the old woman being followed was cautious enough, she'd probably her their breathing.

"I agree" Hermione turns to Harry, "I don't like this, Harry."

"Hermione, she knew Dumbledore. She might have the sword."

Hermione went quiet after that, she knew that this may be the best idea they had to find the sword of Gryffindor.

As they reached a corner, Harry's steps slowed down. It was more of a pull of a memory for him that made him pause. Unlike Lily and James, who completely froze in their spots when they saw something by the doorstep of a house.

A small toy stag was lying on the ground. The toy looked barely stuffed, indicating that the thing that had been lying there for a while and some of the fluff had most likely fallen out. Patches of dirt and holes decorated it as it lied limp and so lifeless.

James swallowed a lump in his throat as the grip on his lover's hand grew tighter. Lily frowned and turned to take a good look at James and how he was feeling.

It was quite obvious Harry hadn't noticed the mini toy Prongs, considering he was more just wistfully staring at the house overall. Completely trying to take it in. And a subconscious part of him searching for any memory he's had that didn't bring him back to the horrid night that ruined everything.

But alas there were none.

Peter, too, looked at the house. But his gaze was more of focused on all of the destruction. It was as if the further he walked into this village, the more it physically hurt him. He couldn't help but feel guilty for feeling this way, considering he knew that Lily and James most likely felt so much worse than him.

From the corner of Peter's eye, he saw something, Something inside him telling him to turn around. He whipped his head so fast and his eyes widened once he noticed how close this 'Bathilda Bagshot' was to him and his friends.

The rest of his friends turned to the woman as well, after hearing Peter's small gasp. A few of them stepped back a bit. Purely out of the discomfort of their close proximity.

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Bathilda Bagshot led the group to her home. They cautiously enter the sitting room. The sitting room was filled with candle stubs perched precariously on stacks of books and side tables covered in dirty dishes. The food on those dishes was clearly rotten and stale.