𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘖𝘧 𝘚𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝄂︎ ☠︎︎ 𝄃︎ 𝘏𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳

𝟷𝟽. 𝙶𝚘𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝙷𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

The pair spent the next two weeks completely enamored with each other. They spent most of their waking time mapping out one another's bodies as if it were their own.

For those two weeks they used each other as a distraction. When in the others arms, there was no war. Their friends hadn't left. They weren't on the brink of death. They were simply... people.

A week after the December full moon, though they had no clue it was even December, they finally packed up their things to head to Godric's Hollow.

They apparated in a while after the sun had set, the streets empty. They had thicker coats on and scarves as it had recently snowed. God, Esme hated the cold. Harry knew it, having an arm wrapped around the shoulders of the shaking girl.

"I still think we should have used polyjuice.." Esme looked around worriedly from her place at Harry's side.

"No. I was born here... I'm not returning as anyone else." Harry pulled her closer as they began to walk.

In the distance, church bells were heard. They spotted some people leaving their friend's homes, all joyfully laughing.

Esme's keen ears picked up on something, stopping them mid-step. "Harry... I think it's Christmas Eve.." She turned her head in the direction of the noise. Singing.

They'd stopped just next to a small church and graveyard. Harry's eyes scanned the headstones. "Do you... think they'd be in there? My Mum and Dad."

"Yeah, I think they would." She gave him the smallest of smiles before they split up, searching the snowy gravesites.

Esme read each one carefully. As she did, the whispers in her mind would echo what she suspected was that person. They were not as loud as usual, her and Harry having renewed her runes just a few days ago.

Esme walked up to one grave, swiping her gloved hand over the snowy stone to reveal that all to familiar symbol. Moving down to where the name was engraved, she swiped again. "Ignotus Peverell..." She lifted her head, looking around for her Potter. "Hey, Harry?"

When her eyes found him, he was standing still in front of a double headstone. She quietly walked over, joining at his side to peer down at the names on the stone.

James Fleamont Potter
March 27 1960 - October 31 1981

Lily Jane Potter
January 30 1960 - October 31 1981

Esme looked to Harry's frozen expression before she kneeled down, hovering her wand over the base of the stone. She moved her wand in a smooth circle, a white rose wreath appearing.

She stood back up, lacing her arm in Harry's as he wiped away stray tears. "Merry Christmas Esme.." He said faintly.

"Merry Christmas Harry.." Esme whispered back to him, laying her head on his shoulder, his head laying on hers. Her eyes were set just behind the gravestone, two figures clear as day, smiling at them.

A faint smile fell onto Esme's face. "They say Merry Christmas too." She told him, only making the boy sniffle harder as he fought back tears.

Lily and James Potter lost their lives to protect their son. And Esme would be damned if she let their sacrifice go to waste.

They stood in silence for a few minutes until Esme's keen nose picked up on a lingering scent. "Har..." She whispered, taking her head off his shoulder. She turned her head in the direction that the scent put her, her eyes meeting an old woman. "There's someone watching us... by the church."

Harry slowly took his gaze away from his parents grave, looking up in the direction of the church. "I think... I think I know who that is."

Esme's arm still wound in his, they followed the raggedy old woman down the street. "I'm getting serious bad vibes from her. The shadows are getting angry.." She continued to whisper to him.