17 December 1997
Bathilda walked to the Godric’s Hollow cemetery to pay her respects to Percival, Kendra, and Ariana Dumbledore. The cemetery was rather close to her house. Some might have found that peculiar and uncomfortable. But Bathilda did not mind.
As she walked to the cemetery, Bathilda thought about her nephew, Gellert. She knew he was sent to Nurmengard- his own prison. Everyone did. The event that took place before he was sent to Nurmengard was quite legendary.
Bathilda collected lilies from her yard before she left home. She opened the rusty old gate that led to the cemetery. She found the Dumbledores’ graves. Bathilda laid a single flower beside each headstone. She walked around the cemetery. Quite a few well-known people were buried there.
Ah, thought Bathilda, Ignotus Peverell. Bathilda then found the Potters’ grave.
She touched the Potters’ headstone and turned to walk home.
When Bathilda returned home, she saw Rita Skeeter’s book, ‘The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore,’ on her coffee table. I’ll be needing to read that, she thought.
She picked up a match and tried to light a candle, but her hands were shaking.
“I reckon I’ll need someone to help me in my old age,” muttered Bathilda.
She walked into the kitchen and filled a kettle with water. She set it on the stove to boil when she first heard the noise above her head. She froze. The noise ceased. Bathilda relaxed and continued fixing a snack.
She heard the noise again, only this time, they seemed closer. She spun around and saw the silhouette of someone. The person stepped forward.
“Ah,” said Bathilda suppressing a smile, “welcome to Bagshot Manor.”
“I am not here for a snack, Bathilda. My Lord sent me to ask… A favor of you.”
“What does He ask of me?” asked Bathilda.
“He… Needs something. Something that you possess.”
“What does He want?” repeated Bathilda.
“You know what he wants!”
“I knew this day was approaching,” said Bathilda.
“This is the end for you, Bathilda Bagshot.”
“Oh, I do doubt that.”
“Avada Kedavra!” Green light filled the house, and Bathilda crumpled to the floor.
Bellatrix smiled menacingly to herself. “My Lord will be proud.”
20 December 1997
“I’ve done it, Nagini,” said Voldemort’s high-pitched, and yet somewhat hoarse voice. “I’ve animated the old historian’s body.”
“I feel that the boy is to return to the death place of his parents.”
Voldemort stroked Nagini as she hissed.
“Perhaps now would be the correct time to pay Bathilda Bagshot a visit, hmm, Nagini?”
Nagini hissed and slithered down Voldemort’s arm.
And he watched his snake depart, setting up the plan that might very well be the end for Harry Potter.