Chapter One - Godric's Hollow
Twigs snapped under his feet as Harry Potter ambled his way through Godric's Hollow. Many thoughts were swimming through his head, like the fact that the war was over and he was now able to live normally (or as normal as a Wizard can live) but another thought clouded his mind like the stench of Bug Spray - why be happy when many people had died for him?
Harry clutched his stomach, still walking down the empty streets of the small market town. Now was the time he needed Sirius the most, but the man was gone - as well as Remus. It was like he was destined to never have a father figure. He supposed Mr Weasley could count as one, but it felt weird - it was his best friend and his exes father.
Harry stopped when he reached his destination. A place that had been a tourist attraction for years, both muggles and wizards had gone to see the results of that fateful night.
Harry looked up at the house, finally able to take it in. The house wasn't in too much ruins but it was destroyed enough that they couldn't repair it. From what Harry could see, the walls had cracks and holes in them and a window on the top floor of the house was smashed.
Harry opened the gate to the house and walked down the path to the house. He got to the front of the house and tried to open the door, it was locked. He pulled out his wand and tried alohamora but the door still wouldng budge.
Harry then wondered if the house was one of the houses he had read about during his time at Hogwarts. According to a book he had read, some Wizarding families put a spell on their house, which only allowed family members and close friends into the house. Harry tapped his foot, trying to wrack his brain. How to get in, how to get in.
He placed his palm on the door and felt magic pulse around him. He breathed in the magic, this was his families magic. There was a click and the door swung open. Harry put his hand down and shrugged. It did work he guessed.
He entered the house, looking around carefully. It was quite a nice house Harry had decided. Despite the fact that everything was weirdly out of place. For example, the sofa was tipped over and didn't look like it was where it was supposed to be. Harry went over to it and tried to pull it into the correct position but it was too heavy. He sighed, deciding to move on.
Harry felt some sort of pull telling him to go upstairs. He raised a brow but made his way to the staircase, slowly making his way up the stairs.
This all felt oddly familiar to Harry, like he remembered more than he was supposed to. He walked down the corridor and made his way into the last room of the house. It was the nursery. Harry gasped when he saw the cot his mother must have put him in. He walked over, and to his surprise, there was a blanket neatly folded in the cot. It looked silky and it was a nice purple colour. Harry picked it up, this must have been the blanket Remus had told him about one night.
Harry felt overwhelmed and he sunk to the floor, wrapping himself in the soft material.