Bathilda’s Secret

Harry,stop.”

“What’swrong?”

TheyhadonlyjustreachedthegraveoftheunknownAbbott.

“There’ssomeonethere.Someonewatchingus.Icantell.There,overbythebushes.”

Theystoodquitestill,holdingontoeachother,gazingatthedenseblackboundaryofthegraveyard.Harrycouldnotseeanything.

“Areyousure?”

“Isawsomethingmove,IcouldhaveswornIdid....”

Shebrokefromhimtofreeherwandarm.

“WelooklikeMuggles,”Harrypointedout.

“Muggleswho’vejustbeenlayingflowersonyourparents’grave!Harry,I’msurethere’ssomeoneoverthere!”

HarrythoughtofAHistoryofMagic;thegraveyardwassupposedtobehaunted:whatif?ButthenheheardarustleandsawalittleeddyofdislodgedsnowinthebushtowhichHermionehadpointed.Ghostscouldnotmovesnow.

“It’sacat,”saidHarry,afterasecondortwo,“orabird.IfitwasaDeathEaterwe’dbedeadbynow.Butlet’sgetoutofhere,andwecanputtheCloakbackon.”

Theyglancedbackrepeatedlyastheymadetheirwayoutofthegraveyard.Harry,whodidnotfeelassanguineashehadpretendedwhenreassuringHermione,wasgladtoreachthegateandtheslipperypavement.TheypulledtheInvisibilityCloakbackoverthemselves.Thepubwasfullerthanbefore:Manyvoicesinsideitwerenowsingingthecarolthattheyhadheardastheyapproachedthechurch.

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