Chapter 12

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Ron and Harry handed Hermione their copies of the paper for her to slide into her beaded bag before they stepped onto a bustling muggle street somewhere in London.

"How was the meeting, Hermione," Ron asked as he slipped his hand into hers and they followed Harry through the crowds, edging between others to keep up with him.

"Good, actually. Kingsley is going to talk to the Australian minister tomorrow and he expects them to be able to find my parents within a week or so!" Her face had lit up as she talked and Ron was relieved to see genuine joy on her face for the first time in a long while.

"That's wonderful! You'll be able to fix their memories in no time!" Ron said encouragingly.

"This should be fine," Harry said in the lull of their conversation. He had led them to an alley in between two restaurants so that the only other thing there was a set of garbage bins overflowing with rubbish. "Come on," he said, begging them to hurry so that they could leave before he changed his mind.

"Where are we going," Hermione asked, yet she took his hand before he could answer.

"You'll see." 

Ron grabbed his other hand and Harry pulled them all out of the alley.

They appeared at the end of a quaint village with rows of cottages lining the sides. Darkened street lights and full trees stood at uneven distances along the sides. There was a small church at the far end of the cobblestone road and a metal gate with vines crawling over it hid behind the building.

"Oh," Hermione gasped, instantly recognizing the street. Ron looked around in confusion, but marched after Harry who had already started to walk purposefully through the quiet town.

"It's Godric's Hollow, Ron," Hermione whispered to him and understanding flooded into his eyes. After winding through a sidestreet, Harry stopped before a gate hiding among ivy covered cobblestone walls. Hedges peeked out from above the walls and behind them stood a comfortable sized stone cottage missing a considerable portion of its second floor. When Ron and Hermione reached him, Harry plunged a hand into his pocket and pulled out a key inscribed with GH on it, which he presumed stood for Godric's Hollow. He fumbled with it out of nerves, but managed to sink the key into its lock and push the creaky gate open, ignoring the sign with well wishes for him.

He followed the stone pathway and kicked away the weeds taking over the front garden leading to the brown door. With a deep breath, he touched the door handle that glowed golden before settling to its dark brown just like the contract's ink had in Gringotts. He pushed the door and stood in the entryway gazing into the home's depths. Something was stopping him from stepping forward. Something prevented him from entering what was once his home, even though he can't remember it.

"Harry?" Hermione asked kindly from behind him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Her hand slipped out of Ron's and she approached him. He nodded, his mind determinedly blank, and walked into what was the living room with Hermione beside him and Ron close behind. He heard the door swing closed as he admired the room.

Light shone through the window panes, casting the room in a beautiful glow. A plush couch sat in the middle of the room facing the wall on his right where a beautifully grand fireplace stood between two matching armchairs. Harry approached the small circular table on the side of the couch and he picked up a frame. He blew hard on the dusty surface and watched the dust spiral off into the air before wiping the last remains off of the glass. Underneath was the most precious thing he had ever touched. His parents smiled happily outside of the very cottage where he stood, but it was fully intact. A man that could be Harry's twin stood with his arm around a beautiful young woman with flowing auburn hair. In her arms was a tiny bundle wrapped in a faint blue blanket and an inscription at the bottom that read in slanted letters 1 August, 1980: Welcome home Harry!

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