Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix - J. K. Rowling [243]
“My Lord … yes, My Lord,” gasped Rookwood, his voice hoarse with relief.
“I shall need your help. I shall need all the information you can give me.”
“Of course, My Lord, of course … anything …”
“Very well … you may go. Send Avery to me.”
Rookwood scurried backward, bowing, and disappeared through a door.
Left alone in the dark room, Harry turned toward the wall. A cracked, age-spotted mirror hung on the wall in the shadows. Harry moved toward it. His reflection grew larger and clearer in the darkness. … A face whiter than a skull … red eyes with slits for pupils …
“NOOOOOOOOO!”
“What?” yelled a voice nearby.
Harry flailed around madly, became entangled in the hangings, and fell out of his bed. For a few seconds he did not know where he was; he was convinced that he was about to see the white, skull-like face looming at him out of the dark again, then Ron’s voice spoke very near to him.
“Will you stop acting like a maniac, and I can get you out of here!”
Ron wrenched the hangings apart, and Harry stared up at him in the moonlight, as he lay flat on his back, his scar searing with pain. Ron looked as though he had just been getting ready for bed; one arm was out of his robes.
“Has someone been attacked again?” asked Ron, pulling Harry roughly to his feet. “Is it Dad? Is it that snake?”
“No — everyone’s fine —” gasped Harry, whose forehead felt as though it was on fire again. “Well … Avery isn’t. … He’s in trouble. … He gave him the wrong information. … He’s really angry. …”
Harry groaned and sank, shaking, onto his bed, rubbing his scar.
“But Rookwood’s going to help him now. … He’s on the right track again. …”
“What are you talking about?” said Ron, sounding scared. “D’you mean … did you just see You-Know-Who?”
“I was You-Know-Who,” said Harry, and he stretched out his hands in the darkness and held them up to his face to check that they were no longer deathly white and long-fingered. “He was with Rookwood, he’s one of the Death Eaters who escaped from Azkaban, remember? Rookwood’s just told him Bode couldn’t have done it. …”
“Done what?”
“Remove something. … He said Bode would have known he couldn’t have done it. … Bode was under the Imperius Curse. … I think he said Malfoy’s dad put it on him. …”
“Bode was bewitched to remove something?” Ron said. “But — Harry, that’s got to be —”
“The weapon,” Harry finished the sentence for him. “I know.”
The dormitory door opened; Dean and Seamus came in. Harry swung his legs back into bed. He did not want to look as though anything odd had just happened, seeing as Seamus had only just stopped thinking Harry was a nutter.
“Did you say,” murmured Ron, putting his head close to Harry’s on the pretense of helping himself to water from the jug on his bedside table, “that you were You-Know-Who?”
“Yeah,” said Harry quietly.
Ron took an unnecessarily large gulp of water. Harry saw it spill over his chin onto his chest.
“Harry,” he said, as Dean and Seamus clattered around noisily, pulling off their robes, and talking, “you’ve got to tell —”
“I haven’t got to tell anyone,” said Harry shortly. “I wouldn’t have seen it at all if I could do Occlumency. I’m supposed to have learned to shut this stuff out. That’s what they want.”
By “they” he meant Dumbledore. He got back into bed and rolled over onto his side with his back to Ron and after a while he heard Ron’s mattress creak as he lay back down too. His scar began to burn; he bit hard on his pillow to stop himself making a noise. Somewhere, he knew, Avery was being punished. …
Harry and Ron waited until break next morning to tell Hermione exactly what had happened. They wanted to be absolutely sure they could not be overheard. Standing in their usual corner of the cool and breezy courtyard, Harry told her every detail of the dream he could remember. When he had finished, she said nothing at all for a few moments, but