As wind whipped through the darkened graveyard, it sent dead leaves swirling among the headstones. Limbs of the ancient oak tree bent and swayed, casting long shadows like grasping hands against the moonlight. Somewhere distant, a lonely dog howled into the darkness.

Godric's Hollow. It seemed almost surreal, a place he would've never called home. And with good reason. Beyond the cemetery's creaking gates there was a familiar stone angel.

Kneeling before the statue he'd once been bound to, Harry lay black lilies at its foot. "My lord," He whispered, and sighed. Things were different now.