After the war, Harry returned to the cottage in Godric's Hollow. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the rusted gate. It creaked in protest as it swung open for the first time in nearly twenty years. His feet found a familiar rut in the stone path and tear sprung to his eyes. Harry had walked this path before, even if as a toddler. The door was blown off of its hinges and lying in the hallway, a thick layer of dust covering it. Stepping cautiously, he entered the kitchen. The stench of rotten food filled his nostrils as he saw an ages old dinner on the counter, complete with a baby bottle. Harry wrinkled his nose and went upstairs. First to the nursery with one wall and the broken lamp, still faintly flickering. Harry picked up the blanket inside the crib, brushing the dust off. He pressed it to his face, tears pricking at his eyes. Tucking it inside his cloak, he pulled a baby book off of the shelf. He opened it and found pages of baby pictures of himself, crawling around madly. Smiling to himself, he entered his parents' bedroom. The bed was unmade, a candle stump on the bedside table. There was a t-shirt lying on the floor, Harry picked it up only to discover he had the same exact shirt. Grinning, he folded the shirt neatly and put it with the growing pile of objects to take home. Making his way back downstairs, he realized he had yet to see the sitting room. The moment he set foot in the room, a gasp escaped his lips. Harry remembered this room like he had been in it yesterday. The green sofa was wedged in the corner, and the bookcase lined the north wall. He ran his fingers over a row of books, and found what looked like a photo album. He pulled it out and sat down on the sofa, opening it. There were pictures of his parents and the Marauders. First year, Lily looking furious at being in a picture with them. They were all like this up until sixth year, when she had her arm around Remus. Seventh year James's arm was around Lily. A tear slid down Harry's cheek and onto the page. He quickly wiped it away and flipped the page, only to find wedding photos. A few were formal, but most of them were goofy shots of the Marauder's and Lily. Harry let out a chuckled as he saw Lily looking uncomfortable in a pile of Marauders. He picked the book up and an envelope fell out. Harry grabbed it and looked at the purple ink.
To Harry on his seventeenth birthday
Said a scrawl he recognized as Lily's. It was well past Harry's birthday, so he lifted the flap and pulled out the letter.
Dear Harry,
There's no way we couldn't be more proud of you. Even as I watch you, a chubby little baby, screaming in your crib, I know you'll make us proud. If Voldy the Moldy gets to us, just know I love you more than anything, except maybe your mum because she would kill me if I said anything else. Anyways, if we're gone and dead when you read this, you'll have been through a lot and we would be proud of you. If we're still kicking, give us a hug and tell us you love us anyways.
I love you, son.
Dad.
Dear Harry,
I'm sure your father's letter was very rude and quite informal, although that wasn't really the point of these.
Happy birthday, Harry. Seventeen years since you cam into this world, I'm sure you will have made us proud, not that you ever couldn't. I love you so much.
Loads of love,
Mum.
Harry gasped, his tears falling freely. He tucked everything under his cloak and Disapparated, leaving the dusty house behind him.
