Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - J. K. Rowling [198]
“Breakfast!” said Sirius loudly and joyfully, jumping to his feet. “Where’s that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER!”
But Kreacher did not answer the summons.
“Oh, forget it, then,” muttered Sirius, counting the people in front of him. “So it’s breakfast for — let’s see — seven … Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —”
Harry hurried over to the stove to help. He did not want to intrude upon the Weasleys’ happiness, and he dreaded the moment when Mrs. Weasley would ask him to recount his vision. However, he had barely taken plates from the dresser when Mrs. Weasley lifted them out of his hands and pulled him into a hug.
“I don’t know what would have happened if it hadn’t been for you, Harry,” she said in a muffled voice. “They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he’s alive and Dumbledore’s been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you’ve no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis. …”
Harry could hardly stand her gratitude, but fortunately she soon released him to turn to Sirius and thank him for looking after her children through the night. Sirius said that he was very pleased to have been able to help, and hoped they would all stay with him as long as Mr. Weasley was in hospital.
“Oh, Sirius, I’m so grateful. … They think he’ll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer … Of course, that might mean we’re here for Christmas. …”
“The more the merrier!” said Sirius with such obvious sincerity that Mrs. Weasley beamed at him, threw on an apron, and began to help with breakfast.
“Sirius,” Harry muttered, unable to stand it a moment longer. “Can I have a quick word? Er — now?”
He walked into the dark pantry and Sirius followed. Without preamble Harry told his godfather every detail of the vision he had had, including the fact that he himself had been the snake who had attacked Mr. Weasley.
When he paused for breath, Sirius said, “Did you tell Dumbledore this?”
“Yes,” said Harry impatiently, “but he didn’t tell me what it meant. Well, he doesn’t tell me anything anymore. …”
“I’m sure he would have told you if it was anything to worry about,” said Sirius steadily.
“But that’s not all,” said Harry in a voice only a little above a whisper. “Sirius, I … I think I’m going mad. … Back in Dumbledore’s office, just before we took the Portkey … for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —”
He could only see a sliver of Sirius’s face; the rest was in darkness.
“It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that’s all,” said Sirius. “You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —”
“It wasn’t that,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It was like something rose up inside me, like there’s a snake inside me —”
“You need to sleep,” said Sirius firmly. “You’re going to have breakfast and then go upstairs to bed, and then you can go and see Arthur after lunch with the others. You’re in shock, Harry; you’re blaming yourself for something you only witnessed, and it’s lucky you did witness it or Arthur might have died. Just stop worrying. …”
He clapped Harry on the shoulder and left the pantry, leaving Harry standing alone in the dark.
Everyone but Harry spent the rest of the morning sleeping. He went up to the bedroom he had shared with Ron over the summer, but while Ron crawled into bed and was asleep within minutes, Harry sat fully clothed, hunched against the cold metal bars of the bedstead, keeping himself deliberately uncomfortable, determined not to fall into a doze, terrified that he might become the serpent again in his sleep and awake to find that he had attacked Ron, or else slithered through the house after one of the others. …
When Ron woke up, Harry pretended to have enjoyed a refreshing