𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬

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I misplaced my Wattpad password.
AGAIN

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Astria felt her knees ablaze from the cold. She had lost track of how long she had knelt before her parents' grave. The snow had seeped into her clothing, leaving her skin stinging with frostburns.

"Let's go," she murmured to Harry and Hermione. She wanted to leave that place as quickly as possible; she couldn't bear it any longer.

Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, and she did the same around Astria's waist. The three exited the village cemetery, under the sound of a crow cawing loudly in the silent night, interrupted only by the few villagers emerging from the church.

When they reached the entrance of the narrow gate, Astria felt a shiver run down her spine. She halted midway, a strange sensation overcoming her. Someone was watching them, but she couldn't hear the thoughts or feel the emotions of the observer.

"Stop," she said.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, looking around. They stood still, embraced, staring at the dark hedge surrounding the cemetery.

Astria freed herself from Hermione to grab her wand.

"We're looking like Muggles," Harry reminded.

"Muggles who just laid flowers on our parents' graves! Harry, I'm sure someone is there."

"I think I see it," Hermione said in a whisper.

They had just passed a tombstone that read Prewett.

"There's someone there. Someone is watching us. I can feel it. There, near the bushes." "Where's the crow from earlier? It must be him," Harry whispered, pulling Astria by the sleeve of her coat. "If it were a Death Eater, we'd be dead by now. Come on, let's get out of here."

They looked back several times as they moved away from the cemetery. Upon reaching the slippery, snow-covered sidewalk, they covered themselves with the Invisibility Cloak. The pub was more crowded than before: voices inside were singing the Christmas carol they had heard approaching the church.

"Let's go this way," Hermione whispered and led them down the dark street, which led out of the village in the opposite direction from which they had come. But Harry didn't hear her. He stopped midway, looking back at the cemetery gates. The next moment, he quickened his pace, dragging Astria and Hermione, who slipped a bit on the ice.

"Harry..."

"I think... I think that was my parents' house," he said, his voice low, pointing to a dilapidated house. The Fidelius Charm must have expired with the Potters. Most of the cottage still stood, but it was completely covered in dark ivy and snow. The right side of the upper floor had exploded.

They stopped at the gate, admiring the ruins of what had once been a house like any other. Astria took a step forward but hesitated. A hooded figure limped down the road towards them, outlined by the light from the square in the distance. She thought, although it was hard to judge, that it was a woman. She moved slowly, perhaps afraid of slipping on the snowy ground. Her hunched back, corpulence, and shuffling gait all indicated a very advanced age.

They silently watched her approach. She didn't enter any of the cottages ahead and, finally, stopped a few meters from the three and simply stood there in the middle of the frozen street, staring at them.

It was unlikely that the woman was a Muggle: she was paralyzed, fascinated by a house that would only reveal itself to her if she were a witch.

But something was terribly wrong.

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