Harry's POV

As we started leaving, Hermione pointed out something that she saw.

"Harry... I saw something move...I could've sworn I did."

I, however, did not see anything and was left utterly perplexed at what Hermione had just said.

We glanced back repeatedly as we made our way out of the graveyard. I was feeling slightly worried so I was glad to have reached the gate. We pulled the Invisibility Cloak over us and walked past the pub, voices were louder than before and I could hear carols being sung from inside. I was going to suggest going into the pub as we could seek refuge there. However, before I could suggest it Hermione had pulled me into a dark street.

"Let's go this way."

As we walked, I noticed something, I knew what it was the second I laid eyes on it. The Fidelius Charm must have died when my parents had passed and there it was, my first home. Most of the cottage was still standing but the right side of the top floor had been completely blown apart, product of Voldemort's backfired curse.

As I walked towards the entrance of the house, I noticed a sign telling everyone of what had happened with my family. Scribbled all across this sign were messages from others, wishing me luck and a sense of faint happiness emerged within me.

As I opened my mouth to say something, I quickly stopped as I saw something, or rather someone, from the corner of my eye.

I merely stared at this peculiar woman who beckoned for me and Hermione to follow her. We were cautious at first, but then me and Hermione decided to move towards this mysterious woman. It was extremely weird how she knew we were there, even though we were underneath the cloak.

"Are you Bathilda?" I asked, still hidden under the Cloak.

The figure nodded and Hermione and I both exchanged a look, with Hermione giving me a nervous nod. As we moved closer towards her, she turned her back on us and began walking. We followed her up a path and she lead us to a door and waited and she fumbled with the key. As we walked in, I pulled the Cloak over us and walked through the house. There was a foul smell enveloping the house and I wrinkled my nose slightly. Only then did I noticed how small Bathilda was.

"Harry..." Hermione said warningly as Bathilda walked into another room.

I looked at her reassuringly. "She's tiny Hermione, I'm pretty sure we overpower her."

There was a loud noise from Bathilda in the other room, causing Hermione to jump slightly.

The two of us walked into this new room and after helping her light a candle, I saw a photograph. It was a familiar face I had saw in a dream, it was the boy who had stolen from Gregorovitch and it was the boy I had seen in Rita's book for Dumbledore.

"Mrs...Miss Bagshot, who is this?" I asked, pointing to the photograph.

There was no response from her so I asked her again.

No response.

She looked at the photo solemnly but still never gave me an answer.

She moved towards me and then made a jerk with her head.

"You want us to leave?" I asked, confused.

She repeated the gesture, firstly pointing at me and then the ceiling.

I pieced it together. "Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her."

Hermione nodded and started moving but Bathilda made a sudden movement, signalling that she only wanted me to go upstairs with her.

Hermione was confused and questioned why Bathilda quite possibly wanted only me to go upstairs with her.

"Maybe Dumbledore said to give the sword to me and only me?" I suggested.

Hermione was uncertain. "Ok...but be quick Harry."

We walked up the narrow stairs and when we got upstairs, it was pitch black. I cast a spell and light emitted from my wand. Bathilda was now even closer to me.

"You are Potter?" she whispered.

"Yes, I am."

She nodded slowly, solemnly. I felt the Horcrux beating fast, faster than my own heart; it was an unpleasant, agitating sensation.

"Have you got anything for me?" I asked, but she seemed distracted by my lit wand tip.

"Have you got anything for me?" I repeated.

Then she closed her eyes and several things happened at once: my scar prickled painfully; the Horcrux twitched so that the front of my sweater actually moved and the dark, fetid room dissolved momentarily.

I swayed where I stood: the dark, foul-smelling room seemed to close around me again; I did not know what had just happened.

"Have you got anything for me?" I asked for a third time, much louder.

"Over here." she whispered, pointing to the corner.

I followed and looked, expecting something that I could instantly recognise but there was nothing.

"What is it?" I asked.

"There."

And in the instant I looked away, Bathilda moved weirdly. In the corner of my eye, I saw something that left me paralysed with fear. In place of where her neck was, a snake started slightering, emerging from her clothes.

The snake struck, the force of the bite to my forearm sent my wand flying up towards the ceiling and I fell backwards onto the dressing table.

I rolled sideways, narrowly avoiding the snake's tail, which thrashed down upon the table where I had been a second earlier. Fragments of the glass surface rained upon me as I hit the floor.

From below I heard Hermione call. "Harry?"

I could not get enough breath in my lungs to call back.

"No..." I gasped, "no, no, no..."

I struggled and tried to summon my wand but nothing worked, the snake started coiling around me, pressing the Horcrux into my chest, my brain was flooded with cold, white light and everything started fading away...

As I reopened my eyes I was in shock that I was somehow still alive. Hermione had arrived and sent curses flying towards the snake.

"Come on Harry, let's go!"

I regained my breath and said frantically. "He's coming Hermione! He's coming!"

Everything was chaos as everything was flying all over the place, Hermione let out a shriek as the two of us hastily tried to leave the house.

My forehead was on fire and suddenly...I was Voldemort. I was running all over the place as Voldemort, my head was all over the place. I couldn't quite grasp what was happening.

"Lily! It's him!"

"Take Harry and go!"

Everything blurred into one and the pain engulfed me yet again, everything was on fire, everything was moving so quickly around me.

Oh make it stop...

Please...make it stop...

"Harry! Harry! Wake up!"

Suddenly, my eyes jerked open and I was Harry again.

"Harry," Hermione whispered, "do you feel all...all right?"

"Yes." I lied.

I was in the tent, lying on one of the lower bunks beneath a heap of blankets. I was drenched in sweat; I could feel it on the sheets.

"We got away." I said blankly.

"Yes," said Hermione, "I had to use a Hover Charm to get you into your bunk. I couldn't lift you. You've been...well, you haven't been quite..."

There were purple shadows under her brown eyes and I noticed a small sponge in her hand: She had been wiping my face.

"You've been ill," she finished, "quite ill."

"How long ago did we leave?" I asked.

"Hours ago. It's nearly morning."

"And I've been...what, unconscious?"

"Not exactly," said Hermione uncomfortably, "you've been shouting and moaning and...things." she added in a tone that made me feel uneasy. What had I done?

"I couldn't get the Horcrux off you," Hermione said, and I knew she wanted to change the subject, "it was stuck, stuck to your chest. You've got a mark; I'm sorry, I had to use a Severing Charm to get it away. The snake hit you too, but I've cleaned the wound and put some dittany on it..."

"Where have you put the Horcrux?" I asked her.

"In my bag. I think we should keep it off for a while."

I laid back on my pillows and looked into her pinched gray face.

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

"It's not your fault. I wanted to go too; I really thought Dumbledore might have left the sword there for you."                   

"Yeah, well...we got that wrong, didn't we?" I said bitterly.

"What happened, Harry? What happened when she took you upstairs? Was the snake hiding somewhere? Did it just come out and kill her and attack you?"

"No." I said. "She was the snake...or the snake was her...all along."                                                  

"W-what?" Hermione said, shocked.                    

I closed my eyes and tried to recall the whole thing.                   

"Bathilda must've been dead a while. The snake was...was inside her. You-Know-Who put it there in Godric's Hollow, to wait. You were right. He knew I'd go back."                    

"The snake was inside her?"

I opened my eyes again. Hermione looked revolted, nauseated.                    

"Lupin said there would be magic we'd never imagined." I explained. "She didn't want to talk in front of you, because it was Parseltongue, all Parseltongue, and I didn't realise, but of course I could understand her. Once we were up in the room, the snake sent a message to You-Know-Who, I heard it happen inside my head, I felt him get excited, he said to keep me there...and then..."         

I remembered the snake coming out of Bathilda's neck: Hermione did not need to know the details.

"...she changed, changed into the snake, and attacked."

I looked down at the puncture marks.                    

"It wasn't supposed to kill me, just keep me there till You-Know-Who came." I said quietly.             

If I had only managed to kill the snake, it would have been worth it, all of it. Feeling sick, I sat up and threw back the covers.                    

"Harry, no, I'm sure you ought to rest!" Hermione said hastily.                    

"You're the one who needs sleep. No offense, but you look terrible. I'm fine. I'll keep watch for a while. Where's my wand?" I asked, looking around.

She did not answer, she merely looked at me.

"Where's my wand, Hermione?"

She was biting her lip, and tears swam in her eyes. "Harry..."

"Where's my wand?"

She reached down beside the bed and held it out to me.

The holly and phoenix wand was nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather kept both pieces hanging together. The wood had splintered apart completely. I took it into my hands as though it was a living thing that had suffered a terrible injury. I could not think properly: everything was a blur of panic and fear. Then I held out the wand to Hermione.

"Mend it. Please."

"Harry, I don't think, when it's broken like this-"

"Please, Hermione, try!"

"R-Reparo."

But it was no use. My wand was yet another fallen soldier that I had lost in this ugly, brutal war.