She was rubbing at a crumbling, mossy stone, gazing down at it, a little frown on

Her face.

“Harry, come back a moment.”

He did not want to be sidetracked again, and only grudgingly made his way back

Through the snow toward her.

“What?”

“Look at this!”

The grave was extremely old, weathered so that Harry could hardly make out the

Name. Hermione showed him the symbol beneath it.

“Harry, that’s the mark in the book!”

He peered at the place she indicated: The stone was so worn that it was hard to

Make out what was engraved there, though there did seem to be a triangular mark beneath

The nearly illegible name.

“Yeah . . . it could be. . . .”

Hermione lit her wand and pointed it at the name on the headstone.

“It says Ig – Ignotus, I think. . . .”

“I’m going to keep looking for my parents, all right?” Harry told her, a slight edge

To his voice, and he set off again, leaving her crouched beside the old grave.

Every now and then he recognized a surname that, like Abbott, he had met at

Hogwarts. Sometimes there were several generations of the same Wizarding family

represented in the graveyard: Harry could tell from the dates that it had either died out, or

the current members had moved away from Godric’s Hollow. Deeper and deeper

Amongst the graves he went, and every time he reached a new headstone he felt a little

Lurch of apprehension and anticipation.

The darkness and the silence seemed to become, all of a sudden, much deeper.

Harry looked around, worried, thinking of dementors, then realized that the carols had

Finished, that the chatter and flurry of churchgoers were fading away as they made their

Way back into the square. Somebody inside the church had just turned off the lights.

Then Hermione’s voice came out of the blackness for the third time, sharp and

Clear from a few yards away.

“Harry, they’re here . . . right here.”

And he knew by her tone that it was his mother and father this time: He moved

Toward her, feeling as if something heavy were pressing on his chest, the same sensation

He had had right after Dumbledore had died, a grief that had actually weighed on his heart

And lungs.

The headstone was only two rows behind Kendra and Ariana’s. It was made of

white marble, just like Dumbledore’s tomb, and this made it easy to read, as it seemed to

Shine in the dark. Harry did not need to kneel or even approach very close to it to make

Out the words engraved upon it.

JAMES POTTER BORN 27 MARCH 1960 DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

LILY POTTER BORN 30 JANUARY 1960 DIED 31 OCTOBER 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

Harry read the words slowly, as though he would have only one chance to take in

Their meaning, and he read the last of them aloud.

“’The last enemy that shall be defeated is death’ . . .” A horrible thought came to

him, and with a kind of panic. “Isn’t that a Death Eater idea? Why is that there?”

“It doesn’t mean defeating death in the way the Death Eaters mean it, Harry,” said

Hermione, her voice gentle. “It means . . . you know . . . living beyond death. Living after

death.”

But they were not living, thought Harry. They were gone. The empty words could

not disguise the fact that his parents’ moldering remains lay beneath snow and stone,

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 797