Brighter Than the Sun

Chapter Thirty-Nine

"Where?" spluttered Mrs. Weasley, choking on her tea and whiskey. "If I'd seen that, I'd have known you were alive!"

"Not by name," said Mr. Weasley. "Listen to this: 'If the terrified wizards and witches who waited breathlessly for news at the edge of the wood expected reassurance from the Ministry of Magic, they were sadly disappointed. A Ministry official emerged some time after the appearance of the Dark Mark alleging that nobody had been hurt, but refusing to give any more information. Whether this statement will be enough to quash the rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods an hour later, remains to be seen.' "

"Uh, pshaw," I scoffed. "Several bodies."

Mr. Weasley shook his head in exasperation, handing the paper to Percy. "Nobody was hurt. What was I supposed to say? Rumors that several bodies were removed from the woods... well, there certainly will be rumors now she's printed that." He heaved a deep sigh. "Molly, I'm going to have to go into the office; this is going to take some smoothing over."

"I'll come with you, Father," said Percy importantly. "Mr. Crouch will need all hands on deck. And I can give him my cauldron report in person." He bustled out of the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley looked upset.

"Arthur, you're supposed to be on holiday! This hasn't got anything to do with your office; surely they can handle this without you?"

"I've got to go, Molly," said Mr. Weasley. "I've made things worse. I'll just change into my robes and I'll be off..."

"Mrs. Weasley," said Harry suddenly, unable to contain himself, "Hedwig hasn't arrived with a letter for me, has she?"

"Hedwig, dear?" said Mrs. Weasley distractedly. "No... no, there hasn't been any post at all."

I looked curiously at Harry. With a meaningful look at Ron, Hermione, and I each, "All right if I go and dump my stuff in your room, Ron?"

"Yeah... think I will too," said Ron at once. "Hermione?"

"Yes," she said quickly, "Ash?"

"Definitely," I agreed, prompting the four of us to march out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

"What's up, Harry?" said Ron, the moment we'd closed the door of the attic room behind us.

"There's something I haven't told you," Harry said. "On Saturday morning, I woke up with my scar hurting again."

"Oh, we're talking about that," I said.

Since I'd already heard the whole snake-dream-scar-hurt story, it didn't come as a surprise to me, but Hermione gasped and started making suggestions at once, mentioning a number of reference books, and everybody from Albus Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey, the Hogwarts nurse. Ron simply looked dumbstruck.

"But - he wasn't there, was he? You-Know-Who? I mean - last time your scar kept hurting, he was at Hogwarts, wasn't he?"

"I'm sure he wasn't on Privet Drive," said Harry. "But I was dreaming about him... him and Peter — you know, Wormtail. I can't remember all of it now, but they were plotting to kill... someone."

He had teetered for a moment on the verge of saying "me," but couldn't bring himself to make Hermione look any more horrified than she already did.

"It was only a dream," said Ron bracingly. "Just a nightmare. "

"Yeah, but was it, though?" said Harry, turning to look out of the window at the brightening sky. "It's weird, isn't it? My scar hurts, and three days later the Death Eaters are on the march, and Voldemort's sign's up in the sky again. And Ash —"