legacy ||s. black||

four

"Death is only dangerous
To the unlived life''

September 3rd - 1976

The village of Godric's Hollow was a small community, which centered on a village square with only a church, a post office, a pub, a few retail shops. The residential streets were lined with quaint cottages, there was an area called Cimeterium Lane that lead up to the graveyard. But it wasn't the unfamiliar surrounding that caught Hope's attention, it was a familiar cottage at the end of the street. It was a two story stone building with large cobblestones decorating the outside, a small gate and hedges surrounding the front yard, but a portion of the second floor had been blown up. A chill went down her spine when she approached the cottage. With every step she took towards the building, she couldn't help herself as a feeling of dread warmed its way in her heart.

It only got worse when Hope stopped in front of the cottage once more. The air was crackiling with magic, but it wasn't the warm feeling she experienced in Ollivander's Wand Shop or even at Hogwarts. It was cold, as if Godric's Hollow knew that a tragedy took place there, and the remains of the Killing Curse could still be felt, even months or years to come. Hope didn't know how long she stood there, but when she finally turned around to go back the street, something besides her caught her attention. It was a plaque, but not an ordinary one.

Hope couldn't help the tears that came down her face, when she read the plaque:

On this spot, on the night of 31st October 1981,

Lily and James Potter lost their lives.

Their son, Harry, remains the only wizard

ever to have survived the Killing Curse.

This house, invisible to Muggles, has been left

in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters

and as a reminder of the violence

that tore apart their family.

And all around these neatly lettered words, scribbles had been added by other wizards and witches who had come to see the place where Harry Potter survived, but his parents didn't.

Hope didn't understand why she felt so much sorrow for people she met two days ago. It was as if a string deep in her heart that connected them together had been severed. How this was possible, she didn't know. Suddenly her surroundings were changing once more and Hope found herself in unfamiliar street in London, the sidewalks were smooth gray stones, joined with such precision, that the joins were almost invisible, the walls of the semi-detached houses in the street were concrete and there stood two mans, no older than twenty one, one tall with a tailored black coat and one small man in a knitted sweater.