HP meets at Hogwarts

Chapter [-] Godric's Hollow

In the night, the small village in Godric's Valley was silent, and the streets were empty. Occasionally, a few dogs could be heard barking, but they quickly stopped.

Under the light of the shimmering stars, there were two light slaps in a narrow corridor, but nothing appeared. After a while, three pairs of shoes and half of a leg appeared beside the trash can. is not clear.

"Anyone around?" Ron whispered under the cloak.

"Apparently, no," Harry replied.

"It wasn't supposed to be," said Hermione, stepping out of the cloak, away from the trash can.

Both Harry and Ron took off the invisibility cloak, and they also stood a little further away from the trash can, and then took a deep breath.

Hermione looked around at the entrance of the corridor, "Okay, our disguise is fine. The location is also right. Let's go now?"

"Okay!" Harry and Ron both clenched their wands.

The three of them walked slowly along the wall.

"The next intersection is the square. At the end of the square, turn right at the church. This is the cemetery." Harry turned around and whispered, he was the first of the three.

"It's such a quiet place -" whispered Ron, gripping his wand tightly.

As soon as Ron finished speaking, a dog at the end of the street barked, and then there was the sound of opening the door and cursing.

The three of them stood against the wall, and continued walking after the sound completely disappeared.

As soon as they crossed the intersection, a small square appeared in front of them in the center of the village.

There is a war monument-shaped building in the center of the square, which is decorated with colorful lights.There are a few shops, a post office, a bar, and a chapel with stained-glass windows that reflect the jewel-like brilliance of lanterns.

"Let's go!" said Hermione.

The three of them crossed the square, but Harry, who was walking first, stopped suddenly, and so did Hermione and Ron.

The monument in the center of the square suddenly changed when the three people passed by. It was no longer an obelisk full of names, but a statue of three people: a man with disheveled hair and glasses, a A beautiful, kind-looking woman with long hair and a baby boy sitting in her mother's arms.

"This is?" Ron couldn't help staring at the sculpture in shock.

"It was Harry's parents and Harry when he was a child." Hermione whispered, she did not stop Harry who was walking forward, but clenched the wand in her hand.

Harry couldn't help but move closer, gazing into his parents' faces.He never thought there would be a sculpture... how strange to see himself carved in stone, a happy baby with no scar on his head...

"Let's go," said Harry when he had had enough of his admiration, turning around, looking at his two good friends, and tightening his grip on his wand.

The three continued on towards the church, Harry looked back as they crossed the street, the statue had turned into a war memorial again.

There is a narrow gate at the entrance to the garden in front of the church.Hermione pushed it away as gently as she could, and the three of them ducked in.The path leading to the church door is slippery and has a lot of water on it.

Probably because of the rain, the three of them had the same thoughts.The three of them walked around the church as steadily as they could to the cemetery.Behind the church, rows of tombstones stand in the grass, dotted with dazzling red, gold and green spots, which are the projections of stained glass on the grass.

"Look at this, surnamed Abbott, maybe Hannah's lost relative!" Ron said, pointing to the nearest gravestone, but his voice was loud in the empty cemetery.

"Be quiet." Hermione snapped.Ron covered his mouth and nodded.

The three looked at the names of the tombstones, looking for any clues that might be helpful to the Horcrux and related to Dumbledore.

"There's a tombstone here, come here!" Ron lowered his voice a lot this time.

Hermione and Harry moved closer.

Ron pointed to a dark stele, on moss-spotted granite, engraved with Candra Dumbledore, with birth and death dates and daughter Ariana underneath.There is another adage:

Where the treasure is, there is the heart

"Who is this? Ariana?" Ron asked.

"Dumbledore's sister," Harry replied.

"Dumbledore still has a sister?" Ron asked in surprise, "But Harry, didn't you tell us?"

"Tell me once. But no name," said Hermione curtly, copying the words from the tombstone into a small notebook.

"Really? Oh, I remember. After Bill and Fleur's wedding, Harry, you said that you and I—"

"Okay, let's move on to the next one." Hermione closed the little book, "We can go back and talk about the things we don't understand and the information."

The three of them continued to search.

"Here!" Hermione's voice sounded a little excited.

Harry and Ron leaned forward, while Hermione was polishing a broken, moss-covered stone tablet.

Hermione pointed to the symbol below the name.

"Look, this is the sign in the book!"

Harry and Ron took a closer look. The stele was too weathered to see what was engraved on it, but there seemed to be a triangular mark under the almost unrecognizable name.

"Hmm...it's possible..." said Harry.

Hermione lit her wand and pointed to the name on the tombstone.

"Ig——Ignotus, I'll write it down..." After extinguishing her wand, Hermione quickly wrote it down in a small notebook.

After writing it down, the three of them gradually went deep into the depths of the cemetery.

The darkness and silence gradually deepened a lot.

"Harry, here..." Ron called softly, and from his tone, Hermione sensed that this was probably the discovery of Harry's parents' tombstone.

Harry seemed to know it too, and his steps were much heavier.

The tombstone was only two rows away from Candela's and Ariana's, and like Dumbledore's tomb, it was white marble and the writing was easier to read because it seemed to glow in the dark.Harry didn't have to kneel down, or even come very close, to read the inscription.

James Potter Lily Potter

生于1960年3月27日生于1960年1月30日

卒于1981年10月31日卒于1981年10月31日

The last enemy to destroy is death

Harry read the words slowly, as if he had only one chance to understand their meaning.He read the last line.

"'The last enemy to destroy is death'..." A terrible thought came to him suddenly, accompanied by a wave of panic. "Isn't that the Death Eater's idea? How could it be here?"

"It doesn't refer to the Death Eater's way of defeating death, Harry," said Hermione's voice softly. "It refers to...you know...life beyond death, dead as alive."

But they're dead, Harry thought: they're gone.The empty words couldn't hide the reality that his parents' rotting corpses lay beneath the dirt and stones, cold and lifeless.Tears welled up all at once, and he let the tears run freely. He closed his lips tightly and looked down at the tombstone. The remains of Lily and James were covered under it. Now there must be only bones and dirt left. He didn't know or care about what they left behind. The son in the world stands so close.His heart was still beating vigorously, the result of their sacrifice.

Hermione took Harry's hand and gave Harry a hug.Ron gave Harry a silent hug as well.

Hermione raised her wand, drew a circle in the air, and several white flowers appeared in front of them.Harry caught it and placed it on his parents' graves.

"Thanks," said Harry, wiping his eyes.

Ron opened his mouth, but swallowed the words back.

"I picked it from the garden in front of the church, and it doesn't matter if it's found." Hermione explained softly.

"Let's go. There shouldn't be anything useful in the grave," said Harry.

Both Ron and Hermione nodded, and accompanied Harry out of the cemetery on the left and right. They walked towards their next goal, the museum of the Golden Snitch.

Hermione almost wrote down all the information she wanted to know in shorthand in a small notebook, and the three of them left the museum.

But they had just stepped out of the museum when Hermione stopped, pointing her wand behind a bush.

Harry and Ron also held their wands and pointed in that direction.

But there was silence.

"What's up?" Ron asked.

"I see something moving -" said Hermione. "Someone is watching us."

"I feel it too," said Harry. "Be careful—"

But the three of them waited for a while, but nothing happened.A gust of wind blew by, and the low bushes lost a few leaves by the wind.

"Maybe a cat or something," said Ron. "If it was Death Eaters, we'd have started fighting, right? Let's go, it's getting late."

Hermione glanced behind the bushes suspiciously, then withdrew her wand, "Okay."

After the three left, Hermione and Harry looked back from time to time.

"This street, turn right, and we will reach our last destination." Hermione said as she led the way in front of the three of them, and then she stopped.

"what happened?"

Harry and Ron immediately raised their wands.

"It's okay, it's this house." Hermione pointed to the ruins left by a house on the side of the road after it was destroyed. "Harry, the map says this is your home, the original home."

He saw it.The Fidelity Charm must have ended with the deaths of James and Lily.In the sixteen years since Hagrid had taken Harry from the ruins, the hedge had grown wild and the rubble was buried waist-deep in the grass.Most of the house was still standing, completely covered in blackened ivy and snow, but the right side of the top room had been blown up, and Harry figured that must be where the spell bounced.The three stood at the door looking up at the ruins, which must have been the same as the houses on both sides in the past.

"Why hasn't anyone rebuilt it?" Ron whispered.

"Maybe it can't be repaired?" Harry replied. "Maybe it's like the kind of damage done by the Dark Arts that can't be repaired?"

Harry stretched out a hand and grasped the rusted iron door, not wanting to open it, just wanting to hold part of the house.

"You're not going in there are you? It doesn't look safe, maybe - oh, Harry, look!" Ron pointed somewhere in front of the ruins.

It seemed to have been caused by Harry's hand on the door: a wooden sign rose from the ground in front of them, emerging from a tangle of nettles and weeds like some strange, rapidly growing flower.Gold letters on the plaque read:

On October 1981, 10, Lily and James Potter sacrificed their son Harry here, the only wizard who survived the Killing Curse.

The house, invisible to Muggles, was preserved as a ruin to honor the Potters and serve as a reminder of the violence that tore their family apart.

Next to these neat handwritings, there are various inscriptions, all of which were written by wizards who came to pay their respects to the place where the "Boy Who Lived" escaped from death.Some just wrote their names in indelible ink, some carved their initials on wooden plaques, and some wrote messages.The more recent ones shine on Magic Graffiti in '16, and they're pretty much the same.

Good luck, Harry, wherever you are.

Hope you read it, Harry, we're all behind you!

Long live Harry Potter.

"They shouldn't be on the sign!" said Hermione disapprovingly.

But Harry smiled broadly at her.

"Fine, I'm glad they did, I..."

He paused, and a tightly wrapped figure staggered from the side street, a black silhouette reflected by the lights of the square in the distance.

Hermione and Ron both pointed their wands at each other.

"Who?" Ron asked in a hoarse voice.

"Wait—" Harry stopped Hermione and Ron from casting spells.

A woman with a stooped body, a bloated figure, and a staggering gait all give the impression of being very old.When she was still a few steps away from the three of them, the woman stopped, and she raised a gloved hand in a gesture.By the light of a room next to the street, the three of them could clearly see who was coming.

Bathilda Bagshot

They had seen what the old man looked like in a photo provided by Ann.

Hermione and Ron put down their wands.Hermione frowned at Bathilda Bagshot and whispered, "But how would she know? We've had Polyjuice Potion!"

Harry shook his head.The woman beckoned even more vigorously.

"Could it be that Dumbledore asked, maybe Dumbledore knew we were coming? You see, if Harry wants to come here, he will definitely come here to have a look. Since the two are good friends, she is here Guarded? Dumbledore is very powerful and knows many spells that we don't know, so she should know too!" Ron said.

Hermione immediately retorted, "There is no spell that can see through Polyjuice Potion? Not even Moody's magic eye!"

"If someone used Polyjuice Potion to pretend to be Ann, I think you'd be able to tell right away—"

"Ann won't be impersonated, Roland—"

Harry took a few steps in the direction of Bathilda Bagshot, turned back to his two good friends and said, "Don't argue, anyway, our ultimate goal is to find her, and now that she has come to us, we will Follow up and take a look. Even if something happens, we have 3 people here, and she has only one."

"Fine." Hermione agreed.

The three of them walked towards the woman. She nodded and immediately turned around, staggering back along the road she came from. After passing a few houses, she turned to a door.They followed her into the path, through a garden almost as deserted as the previous one.She fumbled with the key for a moment at the front door, opened it, and stepped aside to let them in.

She smelled bad, or her house: they sidled through the door, all three wrinkling their noses.

Standing close to Bathilda, Harry saw that she was so small, so bent with age, that she had just reached his chest.She closed the door, then turned to look at Harry's face, eyes sunken in folds of transparent skin with thick cataracts.Her face is covered with choppy veins and old man's class.Harry wondered if the old lady could see clearly, and if she could, she would only see the bald Muggle he was pretending to be.

The smell of old musty, dusty, dirty clothes, and spoiled food intensified. She unbuttoned her moldy black turban, revealing a head with thinning white hair that was clearly visible.

"Bathilda?" Harry asked.

She nodded again, staggered past them, pushed Hermione aside as if she didn't see them, and entered what appeared to be a living room.

Both Hermione and Ron looked at Harry.

"By the way, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't quite right, and Muriel said she was 'goofy,'" said Harry.

"Come here!" Bathilda called from the next door.

"It's okay." Harry reassured, leading the way into the living room.

Bathilda staggered up and down to light a candle, but the room was still dark, not to mention dirty.Thick dust puffed under their feet.She seemed to have forgotten that she knew magic, and she was lighting candles with her hands clumsily, and the lace on her sleeves was in danger of catching fire at any time.

"Come on," said Harry, taking the matches from her and giving them to Hermione and Ron.

Bathilda stood watching the three of them light candles all over the room, standing on little saucers perilously perched on piles of books or on little tables covered with moldy broken cups.

The last place Harry saw candles was a bowed chest of drawers with a lot of pictures on it.After the flames jumped up, reflections flickered in the gray glass and silver frame.He saw something moving faintly in the photo.As Bathilda fumbled for logs to light the fire, he said softly, "The whirlwind sweeps away."

The dust had vanished from the photographs, and he saw at once that six or seven photographs were missing, those in the tallest and most ornate frame, and whether Bathilda or someone else had taken them.At this time, a photo at the back caught his attention, and he picked it up.

It was like a bright bolt of lightning struck the sky.

Harry remembered, the beaming blond thief, the teenager perched on Gregorovitch's window sill, smiling lollingly at Harry in the silver frame.He also met the boy at the Ministry of Magic: in "Dumbledore's Life and Lies", with the boy Dumbledore arm in arm.The other missing pictures must be there too: in Rita's book.

"Mrs. Bagshot—ma'am?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly. "Who is this?"

Bathilda stood in the middle of the room, watching Hermione and Ron help her light the fire.

"Ms. Bagshot?" Harry called again, and walked over with the framed picture in his hand, as a flame rose in the fireplace.Bathilda looked up at his voice.

"Who's this guy?" Harry asked her, handing her the photo.

She watched gravely for a moment, then looked up at Harry.

"Do you know who this is?" he asked again, his voice much slower and louder than usual. "This man? Do you know him? What's his name?"

Bathilda looked blank.Harry was very frustrated, how did Rita Skeeter open Bathilda's memory?

"Who is this man?" he asked aloud again.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"This picture, Hermione, is of the thief, the Gregorovich thief! Please tell us!" he said to Bathilda. "Who is this?"

She just stared at him blankly.

"Why did you call us here, Mrs. Bagshot—ma'am?" asked Hermione, also raising her voice. "Is there anything you want to tell us?"

Bathilda didn't seem to hear Hermione's words. She staggered a few steps towards Harry, tilted her head slightly, and looked out into the passage.

"You want us out?" Harry asked.

She repeated the motion, pointing at him, then at herself, then at the ceiling.

"Oh, yes... Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her."

"Okay," said Hermione, "Ron, stand up, let's go." Ron was squatting in front of the fireplace to light a fire, and he put down the wood in his hand.

But as soon as Hermione moved, Bathilda unexpectedly shook her head vigorously, pointing to Harry, then to herself.

"She wants me to go with her alone."

"Why?" Hermione asked, her voice high and clear, echoing in the candlelit room.The old lady shook her head slightly when she heard such a loud voice.

"Maybe Dumbledore told her to only talk to Harry alone?" said Ron, standing behind Hermione, "like there's something that only the few of us know."

Hermione ignored Ron and asked Harry, "Do you really think she knows who you are?"

"Yes," said Harry, looking down into the cloudy eyes staring at him, "I think she knows."

"Okay, but stay alert, Harry," said Hermione, "and call us if something happens."

Harry nodded and said to Bathilda, "Lead the way."

She seemed to understand, and staggered around him towards the door.

As soon as Harry was gone, Ron cleaned a dusty sofa with his wand and sat down on it.Hermione frowned and walked to the bookshelf in the room, almost every book on the shelf was covered with dust.

The stairs were steep and narrow: Harry almost wanted to put his hands on the bloated Bathilda's back in case she fell backwards on him, which seemed all too likely.Wheezing a little, she climbed slowly to the top of the stairs, turned right immediately, and led him into a low bedroom.

It was dark inside and the smell was terrible.Harry just vaguely saw a urinal protruding from the bed when Bathilda closed the door, swallowing even that little vision in darkness.

"Lumos," said Harry, startled as his wand lit up: in those few seconds of darkness, Bathilda had walked beside him without him hearing.

"Are you Potter?" she whispered.

"Yes, I am."

She nodded slowly and solemnly.Harry felt his heart beat suddenly fast, an uncomfortable, restless feeling.

"Do you have something for me?" Harry asked, but she seemed distracted by the light from the tip of his staff.

"Do you have anything for me?" he asked again.

She closed her eyes, and several things happened: Harry's scar pricked like needles, the dark and fetid room disappeared temporarily, and he felt a burst of joy, saying in a high, grim voice: "Look at him!"

Harry swayed in place, and the dark, stinky room seemed to surround him again, and he didn't understand what had just happened.

"Do you have something for me?" he asked a third time, much louder.

"This way." She pointed to the corner and whispered.Raising his wand, Harry vaguely saw a messy dressing table under the curtained window.

This time she didn't lead him.Harry raised his wand and sidled between her and the unmade bed, not wanting to take his eyes off her.

"What's this?" he asked, moving over to the dresser, which was piled so high that it looked and smelled like dirty laundry.

"There," she said, pointing to the mess.

As Harry looked away, searching the pile for something of value, Bathilda moved oddly.Harry saw it out of the corner of his eye, and turned in horror, paralyzed with terror.He saw the old body fall, and a great snake spurted from where her neck had been.

As he raised his wand, the serpent struck: a sharp bite on his forearm, and the wand whirled toward the ceiling as the glow swirled dizzyingly around the walls and went out.Immediately afterwards, the snake tail hit him hard in the abdomen, sweeping him out of breath.He fell backwards on the dresser, into the smelly pile of dirty clothes—

He rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding the tail of the snake, which smacked the table where he had been a second ago.He rolled to the ground, splashed all over with broken glass, and heard Hermione calling from downstairs, "Harry?"

There was a sudden sound of heavy objects falling to the ground and glass shattering upstairs. Ron jumped up, and Hermione yelled, "Harry?"

The two looked at each other, then ran upstairs holding their wands tightly.

Harry couldn't get enough air into his lungs to answer, and suddenly something heavy and smooth knocked him to the ground again, and he felt it slide over him, strong, powerful—

"No!" He gasped, being pinned to the ground.

"Yes," said the voice in a low voice, "yes...to watch you...to watch you..."

"Wand... the wand flies..."

But it doesn't work.He needed to use his hands to push away the big snake wrapped around him, it was squeezing the air out of his lungs, gradually a white cold light flooded his brain, all thoughts became blank, his breath was drowned Now, the sound of footsteps in the distance, everything has disappeared...

He awoke suddenly in a sour-smelling darkness, and Nagini had let him go.He hurried to his feet and saw the silhouette of the big snake reflected in the dim light of the stairs: it was attacking, and Hermione screamed and dodged aside, her spell missed, smashing the curtained window to pieces .A flash of red light shot from the tip of Ron's wand and hit the snake, but the snake just twisted and opened its jaws again.

Harry dodged a shower of shattered glass and stepped on something that looked like a pencil—his wand—

He stooped to pick it up, but now the big snake filled the room, its tail lashing.Harry couldn't see Ron and Hermione, suddenly there was a bang, two red lights flashed, the big snake flew into the air, its tail hit Harry's face heavily, and the heavy snake body rose to the ceiling in circles .Harry raised his wand, but now the scar burned worse than it had been in years.

"He's coming! Hermione, Ron, he's coming!!"

When Harry yelled, the snake dropped down, hissing wildly.There was chaos, it knocked over shelves on the wall, shattered china flew everywhere, and Harry jumped over the bed to see Ron and Hermione standing in the doorway with their wands raised—

"He's coming! We have to leave now!" Harry yelled at the two of them.

Then the snake stood up again, but Harry knew something worse than the snake was coming, perhaps already at the gate, and his scar was so painful that his head seemed to split open—

The big snake swooped in, and Ron had already taken Hermione's hand, waiting for Harry to Apparate away as soon as he took his hand.

As soon as Harry's fingers touched Ron's outstretched hand, the big snake had already jumped in front of the three of them.

At this critical moment, Hermione raised her wand and screamed, "Thunderbolt!" After her spell hit the serpent, the serpent paused, and then the spell flew around the room, blowing up the full-length mirror, and on the ground An explosive bomb that hadn't been torn off its fuse also exploded, and in an instant there was a wave of fire mixed with various debris between the floor and the ceiling. Harry felt a burst of heat scald his arm, and countless glass shards flew towards him. ——

A swirling darkness...

Harry thought his scar was bursting, he was Voldemort, and he sprinted down the smelly hallway before seeing a bald man, a stocky man and a little woman whirl away and disappeared, shouting furiously, his shouts echoing In the dark garden, drowning out the midnight bells from the church...

His cry was Harry's cry, his pain was Harry's pain...to be here, where it had happened once...here, to see the house where he had tasted The taste of death... death... the pain is so terrible; torn from his own body... But if he has no body, why does his head hurt so badly, if he is dead, why is it unbearable, Doesn't pain go away with death, doesn't it...

It was a wet and windy night, and two kids dressed as pumpkins waddled across the square, and the shop windows were covered with paper spiders, tacky Muggle trinkets adorning a world they didn't believe... And do it, with that sense of purpose and power and rightness that always comes to him on occasions like this... not anger... that's for souls weaker than him... but victory, yes ...He has been waiting for this moment, looking forward to this moment...

"Pretty make-up, sir!"

A little boy came running and looked under the hood of his cloak, his smile faltering, terror over his painted face.The child turned and ran away...his hand under the robes grasped the wand...one slight movement and the child would never be able to run to its mother again...but there was no need, no need at all...

He was walking down a new, darker street, and the destination finally appeared in front of him. The Loyalty Charm had been broken, but they didn't know it yet... His voice was softer than a dead leaf sliding on the road, and he walked quietly. Before the dark hedge, looking in...

They had not drawn the curtains, and he could see clearly that they were in the small living room, a tall, black-haired man with glasses, blowing out bursts of colored smoke from his wand to tease the little black-haired boy in blue pajamas. happy.The kid giggled to catch the smoke, squeezed in tiny fists...

A door opened and his mother came in, speaking words he couldn't hear, her long crimson hair hanging down her face.The father picked up the son and handed it to the mother, then threw the wand on the sofa, stretched and yawned...

The door knocked softly and he pushed it open, but James Potter did not hear it.A pale hand drew his wand from under the cloak and pointed to the door, which slammed open.

As he crossed the threshold, James burst into the hall, so easy, so easy, James didn't even pick up his wand...

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll stop him—"

Block him, no wand in hand! ...he laughed and cast a spell...

"Avada Kedavra!"

Green light filled the narrow hallway, illuminating the baby carriage leaning against the wall, the stair railing was blindingly bright like a lightning rod, and James Potter fell like a puppet with a broken string...

He heard her screaming upstairs, there was no way to escape, but as long as she had some sense, at least she herself had nothing to fear... He climbed the stairs and was a little amused to hear her try to cover herself with something... ...she didn't bring a wand either...how foolish they were, how credulous they were, thinking they could trust their safety to a friend, think they could drop their weapons even for a little while...

He slammed the door open, and with a lazy flick of his wand, she tossed aside the chairs and boxes she had hastily piled behind it... and there she stood, with the child in her arms.As soon as she saw him, she put her son in the cradle behind her, and spread her arms out, as if it would do any good, as if she hoped that by keeping him out of the way, he would choose her instead...

"Don't kill Harry, don't kill Harry, please, don't kill Harry!"

"Get out of the way, stupid woman... get out of the way..."

"Don't kill Harry, please, kill me, kill me—"

"My last warning—"

"Don't kill Harry, please... have mercy... have mercy... don't kill Harry! don't kill Harry! Please - I can do anything -"

"Get out of the way - out of the way, woman -"

He could have pushed her away from the cradle, but killing her all seemed safer...

Green light flashed across the room, and she fell like her husband.The baby never cried: he was standing upright, clutching the cradle rails, looking up at the intruder's face with interest, maybe thinking it was Daddy hiding in the cloak, making more beautiful fireworks, and Mama laughing any moment jump up -

He pointed the wand to the little boy's face so carefully that he wanted to see it happen, to see the destruction of the only unexplainable danger.The child began to cry, already realizing that he was not Jaime.He didn't like the sound of crying, he had never been able to bear the crying of the children in the orphanage—

"Avada Kedavra!"

Then he shattered: he was nothing but agonizing fear, he had to hide, he couldn't hide in the ruins of this house with the child still trapped inside crying, he had to hide far away... far away of……