94 hp Diagon Alley

close.So the next day, Hermione, who believed that Godric's Hollow had clues to the sword of Gryffindor, strongly persuaded Harry that they should go to the birthplace of the savior.

The result can't be said to be nothing, but the trip was far more tortuous than Harry and Hermione expected.

They saw the mysterious Grindelwald's symbol on the tombstone, admired the statue of Harry's parents holding the baby, learned Dumbledore's secret - and were confronted by Najib the Serpent disguised as Bathilda Bagshot Ni's attack.

Harry, who escaped from birth, had a nightmare that night about Voldemort killing his parents.

"Harry, it's okay, wake up, wake up!"

He's Harry... Harry, not Voldemort... and that rustling thing is not a snake...

He opened his eyes.

"Harry," whispered Hermione, "do you think it's - okay?"

"It's okay." He didn't tell the truth.

He was in the tent, lying on a bunk under a pile of blankets.From the silence around him and from the icy gleam of light on the canvas canopy, he sensed that day was breaking.He was drenched in sweat and could be felt on the sheets and blankets.

"We escaped."

"Yes," said Hermione, "I used a hovering charm to get you onto the bed, I couldn't move you. You were...well, you were not well..."

There were purple shadows under her brown eyes, and he saw a tiny sponge in her hand: she had just been wiping his face.

"You are ill," she said at last, "very ill."

"How long have we escaped?"

"It's been hours, and it's almost morning now."

"I've been...why, am I unconscious?"

"Not exactly," said Hermione awkwardly. "You're yelling, you're fucking, and . . . and so on," she added in a tone that made Harry feel uneasy.What did he do?Shouting spells like Voldemort?Cry like a baby in the cradle?

He lay down on the pillow and looked at her haggard, gray face.

"It's my fault we shouldn't have gone to Godric's Hollow, it's all my fault, Hermione, I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, I wanted to go too, I really thought Dumbledore would leave the sword there for you to get it."

"Yeah, well... we guessed wrong, didn't we?"

"What happened, Harry? What happened after she took you upstairs? Did the snake hide somewhere? Did it come out and kill her, and then attack you?"

"No," he said, "she is the snake... or the snake is she..."

"W-what?"

He closed his eyes and smelled him and Bathilda's house, which made the whole thing horribly real.

"Bathilda must have been dead for a while. The snake was... in her body. You-Know-Who left it waiting in Godric's Hollow. You're right, he knew I'd be back."

"The snake in her body?"

He opened his eyes again: Hermione looked like she was going to throw up with nausea.

"Lupine said there would be magic beyond our imagination," said Harry. "Bathilda didn't want to speak in front of you just now because it's Parseltongue, and I didn't realize it. But of course, I understand." .As soon as we got to that room upstairs, the snake called You-Know-Who, and I heard it in my head, and I felt him get excited, and he said he was going to keep me there... and then..."

He remembered the snake scurrying from Bathilda's neck, details that Hermione didn't need to know.

"...she changed, became that snake, and attacked."

He looked down at the hole in his arm.

"It won't kill me, it just wants to watch me and wait for the mysterious man to arrive."

If he could kill the snake, it would be worth it, and everything was not in vain... He was very depressed, sat up and lifted the blanket.

"Harry, no, you need to rest!"

"It's you who need to go to bed. Don't be surprised, you look so ugly. I'm all right. I'll watch for a while. Where's my wand?"

She didn't answer, just looked at him.

"Where's my wand, Hermione?"

She bit her lip, tears welling in her eyes. "Harry..." She reached out to the bed, picked it up and handed it to him.

The holly and phoenix-feather wand was nearly broken in two.A flimsy phoenix feather held the two pieces together, and the wood was completely broken.Harry held it in his hands as if holding a mortally wounded life.He couldn't think, his mind was full of panic and fear.Then he handed Hermione his wand.

"Fix it, please."

"Harry, I don't think so, it's broken like this—"

"Please, Hermione, try it!"

"Recovery—recovery as before."

The dangling and drooping half of the wand was connected.Harry held it up.

"Fluorescent flashes!"

The wand flickered faintly, then went out again.Harry pointed it at Hermione.

"Except your weapons!"

Hermione's wand cocked, but didn't let go.The feeble attempt had overwhelmed Harry's wand, which snapped in two.He looked at it, transfixed, unable to comprehend what he was seeing... this battle-tested wand...

"Harry," said Hermione, in a voice so soft he could barely hear, "I'm very, very sorry. I think I did it. You know, when we were running away, the big snake was coming, so I threw a Explosive, it's bouncing around, it must be—must have hit—"

"It was an accident," said Harry mechanically, feeling empty and foggy. "We—we'll find a way to fix it."

"Harry, I don't think there's anything I can do," said Hermione, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Remember...remember Ron? After his wand broke in a car accident and Gwen said it couldn't be fixed anyway, he Had to buy another one."

Harry thought of Ollivander, who was kidnapped and held by Voldemort, and Gregorovich, who was dead.How would he find a new wand?

"Oh," he said in a normal tone, "well, then I'll borrow yours for a while. I'll go watch."

Hermione, tearful, handed her her wand.Harry left her sitting alone on the edge of the bed, all he wanted to do now was leave her.

Reunited friends and unexpected guests

It was snowing outside when Hermione arrived for her shift change at midnight.Harry's dream was chaotic; Nagini swimming in and out, first through a large, cracked ring, then through a Christmas rose wreath.He woke up again and again in terror, believing that someone had called his name from afar, imagining the sound of the wind beating against the tent as footsteps and voices.

Finally, he got up in the dark and walked over to Hermione.She was curled up at the mouth of the tent, reading A History of Magic by the light of her wand.The heavy snow was still falling, and when she heard his suggestion to pack up and move earlier, she readily agreed.

"It's time to find a more secluded place." She agreed, shivering and adding a sweatshirt on top of her pajamas, "I always feel like I hear someone walking outside, and once or twice I seem to see someone."

Harry, who was putting on his jumper, stopped and looked into the silent, motionless looking glass of the table.

"I believe it's a hallucination," said Hermione, looking a little nervous, "snow in the dark, it's easy for the eyes to trick... but maybe we should Apparate under the Invisibility Cloak just in case, right? "

Half an hour later, the tent was up and Harry Apparated together with Hermione clutching the beaded bag.A familiar feeling of suffocation engulfed them, and Harry's feet lifted off the snow and landed heavily on the ground like frozen ground covered in fallen leaves.

"Where are we?" he asked, surveying the strange woods.Hermione had already opened the beaded packet and started pulling out the tent poles.

"Forest of Dean," she said, "I camped here once, with Mom and Dad."

It's freezing cold here, and the trees are covered in silver, but at least they keep out the wind.They spent most of their time in their tents, curled up next to those bright blue fires that Hermione was so good at making.These flames are so useful that they can be scooped up and carried in bottles.Harry felt as though he was recovering from a short but serious illness, a feeling reinforced by Hermione's concern.In the afternoon, snowflakes fell in the sky again, and even the sheltered clearing they were in was dusted with crystal powder.

Harry's senses seemed more alert after two nights of sleepless nights.Godric's Hollow escape was so thrilling that Voldemort seemed closer and more threatening than ever.As night fell again, Harry refused to let Hermione watch, telling her to go to bed.

Harry moved an old cushion and sat at the mouth of the tent, still shivering in all his sweaters.The darkness grew thicker, almost impenetrable.He was about to take out the Marauder's Map and look at Ginny's black spot for a while, when he remembered that it was Christmas and she should be at the Burrow.

In the big forest, every tiny movement seems to be magnified.Harry knew there must be many animals in the woods, but he wished they would all be quiet lest he confuse their harmless running and scurrying with other sounds that portended danger.He remembered the sound of the cloak sliding on the dead leaves many years ago, and immediately felt as if he heard it again, and quickly shook his head.The protective magic had worked for so many weeks, how could it not work now?Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was out of the ordinary tonight.

Several times Harry sat up abruptly, his neck stiff and aching because he had fallen asleep leaning against the tent wall without knowing it.The night was darker, a velvety blackness, and he seemed to be suspended in a realm between apparation and apparition.he is about to take a