After the memorial, Sirius and Lupin seemed to be doing much better. So, on their way to the Potter home, Sirius took Harry by the hand and walked along the slippery flagstone lane leading out of the village.
At a glance, Harry could see open fields at the end of the little lane, but he noticed a dilapidated house. When he felt Sirius's hand trembling around his own, he was certain that it had once been his home.
Harry pulled free of Sirius's arm and ran toward the house.
Douglas and the other two slowed their steps, watching Harry's somewhat stumbling figure with a pang of sadness.
Noticing that Dobby wanted to follow, Douglas said softly, "Let's take it slowly. Give him a moment alone."
"The Fidelius Charm has broken," Sirius said blankly.
Douglas and Lupin understood what he meant. Neither said anything as they walked slowly toward the house.
Harry was now standing before the place he had once called home. More than a decade had passed, and the hedges had grown wild, while waist-high weeds buried the rubble. Most of the house still stood, but dark ivy and snow covered it. Harry imagined that, if none of this had happened, he would surely be spending his Christmas holiday trimming the ivy at his mother's urging and clearing snow off the roof with his father.
Looking at the destroyed right side of the upstairs room, he guessed that it was probably the result of the spell rebounding that night. Though he remembered nothing, he knew that he had rebounded that spell that night, defeating Voldemort and destroying that half of the room as well.
Harry stood at the entrance, gazing at the ruins. He studied the houses on either side, trying to reconstruct in his mind what it had