𝑈𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 ☾ 𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑓𝑜𝑦

Strange Christmas ☾ 7-08

"Listen. I-I think it's Christmas Eve." Hermione mumbled. A beautiful choir filtered through the open church doors in front of us, the loud bell ringing out over the empty street. I turned toward the church and smiled grimly at the lovely music.

"Do you think they'd be in there, Hermione?" Harry asked quietly. I turned to look at him and he was staring into the dark cemetery beside the church. "My mum and dad?" My brow furrowed as I slowly read a few of the names on the tombstones. The ones toward the front were almost four hundred years old. Hermione's expression was replaced with one of sorrow as we all gazed into the headstones.

"Yeah, I think they would." She said after a moment. Harry's face turned hopeful and we walked through the narrow gates into the cemetery. We each took a line and walked up and down the rows to look for the names of Lily and James Potter. All our footsteps crunched quietly in the snow as it fell softly around us. I reached a row where the headstones grew large, and some had entire families written down. There were names of children, parents, and even infants engraved into the stone. I recognized the dates to be from around the first Wizarding war. Where millions were brutally slaughtered. My hair turned a soft midnight blue as I silently mourned for those I never knew.

"Hey, Aurora?" I heard Hermione call and I looked up. She was standing near another grave and I walked over. The tomb she had brushed the snow off of held an interesting and familiar name. "Do you know who Ignotus Peverell was?" She asked. I shook my head as the thought slipped past me and turned to ask Harry, but I stopped mid-sentence as I saw him silently standing, staring down at another grave.

The three of us walked over and my hair darkened as I took in the names engraved on the headstone. Harry had found his parents. Draco and I lowered our heads, and Hermione kneeled down to grow a magical wreath at the bottom of the stone. It was beautiful, and held blooming white roses. Harry smiled softly as a tear slipped down his cheek. Hermione squeezed his hand.

"Merry Christmas, everyone." He said quietly. I smiled sadly and Draco wrapped his arm around my shoulders.

"Merry Christmas, Harry." Hermione whispered in return.

We stood in silence for a few moments before the hair rose on the back of my neck. I lifted my head up slowly, and looked around, trying to seem inconspicuous. Sure enough, there was a short, dark figure standing beside the church, watching our every move. I quickly looked back down to Lily and James' grave, and placed my head on Draco's shoulder rigidly. He noticed the change in my demeanour and looked down at me questionably.

"There's someone watching us." I whispered slowly. "By the church." Draco peered over top of my head, and Harry slowly turned to look. It was a woman, an old woman, judging by her slow and small footsteps. She turned away and began to hobble through the snow.

"I think I know who that is." Harry looked at us, and I nodded. We followed the woman out of the graveyard and down the street, keeping a far distance behind.

"I don't like this," Draco leaned down to whisper in my ear. "I don't trust her."

"Neither do I, but she knew Dumbledore, and we need to talk to her. I don't think we have a choice." I replied. He let out a long sigh and we continued to follow her down the street. We kept walking, until I noticed Harry stopped in front of a large, burnt down house. It stood empty, devoid of life, and destroyed. Nobody had bothered to go inside or rebuild it. Hermione stood beside him as they gazed at the house, whispering to each other.

Draco and I watched from a respectful distance, waiting patiently. I didn't want to interrupt this moment for Harry, especially now that he had found his parent's house. It looked like it was beautiful in it's time, perfect for their little family. It made me frown at the memories that could have been. I felt Draco's hand slip between my fingers and squeeze. He fiddled with the ring he had placed on my finger and I smiled sadly. I barely noticed the old woman come right up to us. I jumped a bit as we both turned to face her. She gestured slowly over to Harry and Hermione, and we all gathered to listen to the old woman. Bathilda Bagshot.