Holly Potter and the Midlife Crisis (Hp x Mcu) by Enigmaris

Chapter 36: A Meeting Decades in the Making

Summary:

Holly sneaks out of Avengers Tower with the help of the only sort of free Winter Soldier to discover who had spoken to her in her coma.

There was a small British village in West England that looked a bit strange when one traveled past it. If one was able to travel through it, which was rare enough, then the visitor would be beset by the strangest of feelings. The thatched roofs and stone chimneys that dotted the village should have given a visitor a feeling of quaint welcome. There was in fact a charming little pub that served good food and a decent pint for a good price that was run by a chubby faced woman with warm bright eyes. But very few people got far enough into the village to even see it.

The village was home to mostly elderly people. There were no young families with children overrunning the streets, although to hear the citizens tell it used to be quite a bustling place for new families. This meant that the streets were eerily quiet most days giving the air an ominous and strangely thick feeling. That feeling was coupled by the strange taste in the air that made one want to call up their closest elderly relative and ask after their health. It made one pull their partner and children closer to their side, protecting against a threat that seemed as real as it was intangible.

The sign that welcomed visitors into town was hand painted and the gold color seemed to glitter even on the foggiest of days.

'Welcome to Godric's Hollow'

But nothing felt welcome there anymore.

About three decades previously Godric's Hollow had been a bustling village, a magical village to be exact. There were small houses that were far larger on the inside that housed young couples and retired spouses alike. A perfect place to start a family. Magic filled the streets quite freely, so freely in fact that there wasn't even a road built that would lead to the village. Muggles didn't even know of the village's existence and they liked it that way. Things were happy, as happy as they could be in times of war. Tragedy had struck of course one fateful Halloween night.

The death of Lily and James Potter had been quite a shock. (No one but a select few had even known they lived there after all.) But the true shock was the destruction of the Dark Lord and the impossible survival of Holly Gemma Potter. Godric's Hollow soon became a tourist attraction. The Potter Home was ransacked for any valuable keepsakes and then vandalized by both positive messages and negative ones. The ancient town graveyard was visited frequently, so frequently in fact that the town put up a statute honoring the Potters just to keep visitors from mussing up the graves too much.

Then things had begun to decline, slowly ever so slowly, a strange feeling filled the air. Day by day, month by month, year by year, decade by decade. By the time over 20 years had passed only the most stubborn of wizards remained in the town. There wasn't a high enough magical population to keep Godric's Hollow off of muggle maps and so the town was brought into the modern, muggle world kicking and screaming. The newly paved road that was built into the town hardly increased the population. Any muggle who came by hardly wished to stay long.

What had happened?

Holly, on her first and truly only visit to the town, had been far too stressed and spooked by the war coming to a head to truly notice the feeling of dread that creeped through the air. She had been too distraught in the graveyard, seeing her parents for the first time, to notice how cold and terrible the place was. Going into her childhood home for the first time was painful enough to ensure she never noticed there was something far darker lurking in the shadows.

Holly in her typical fashion did her best never to think about Godric's Hollow. For her it represented all that should have been. She should have seen that place as her home town. She should know everyone inside by name and they should know her. She should have fond memories of getting into trouble with her neighbors. She should have had parents and a childhood of wonderful British summers.