Chapter 99. Scars and Dreams
Since May, Harry had suddenly begun to feel a faint pain in his scar.
And that pain was getting worse and worse.
Wednesday.
After a Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson, the pain had grown almost unbearable for Harry.
That night at bedtime.
"How many potions did you actually drink?!"
Ron sat on the edge of the bed, gaping as Harry downed bottle after bottle as if they were water.
Soon, Harry's bedside table was covered with empty bottles.
"Pepperup Potion, Blood-Replenishing Potion, Calming Draught, Deflating Draught… and Invigoration Draught?"
Ron identified the labels one by one, then turned to Harry. "Are you ill?"
"My head hurts."
Harry frowned, clutching his forehead in pain, and put down the Beautification Potion in his hand—no matter what, that one wasn't going to help his headache.
"Stop drinking," Ron said with relief when he saw Harry stop. "If it's a headache, I suggest you go to Madam Pomfrey tomorrow. She'll definitely have a way to fix it."
"I suppose that's all I can do." Harry sighed and lay flat on the bed.
Soon, Ron's snores began.
Lying there, Harry found the exact spot on his forehead that hurt—it was his lightning-shaped scar.
For as long as he could remember, this was the first time that scar had ever hurt so badly.
Weird… and bloody awful!
Harry felt that even when Dudley had beaten him black and blue, it hadn't hurt this much.
At last, about an hour later, Harry drifted into a shallow sleep.
And tonight, for the first time in a while, he had a dream.
The dream came abruptly and felt real.
In the dream, he seemed to have become someone else.
He was bent over something soft, warm, and yielding, but he couldn't tell what it was.
Then something slid down his throat—thick, warm—and it sent a shiver of cold dread through him.
Before Harry had time to taste it, his consciousness suddenly blurred, as if he were being dragged into darkness.
After that, a huge castle appeared in his field of vision—Hogwarts Castle; he couldn't possibly mistake it.
Harry looked down at his own hands and saw they were like a porcelain object, smashed and forcibly pieced back together, criss-crossed with spiderweb cracks.
"No time left… must… quickly…"
"When I come back… this world…"
A rasping voice reached Harry's ears in broken snatches.
Next, the scene shifted again—a gigantic, three-headed monster suddenly loomed before his eyes.
"!"
Harry jolted upright in bed, gasping for breath, his forehead beaded with cold sweat.
His pyjamas were soaked through, clinging to his back.
A chill like ice shot up his spine.
Instinctively, Harry touched his forehead—the lightning-shaped scar was burning with pain, as if someone were pressing a red-hot brand on it again and again.
The scene from the dream had been so vivid it felt as if it had truly happened.
No!
It had truly happened!
The Stone, the scar…
Harry suddenly realised something; his pupils contracted sharply.
A terrifying thought struck him.
Someone was making a move on the Philosopher's Stone!
And the identity of that person was very likely closely tied to the scar on his forehead.
Harry remembered what Hermione had once said—that the Philosopher's Stone might have other, undiscovered uses.
The Stone might be able to bring that person back!
The alarm clock on the bedside table already pointed to one o'clock, but Harry couldn't wait for dawn. He had to tell a professor right now!
Harry climbed out of bed as quietly as he could, but as he turned he knocked over the empty bottles on the bedside cabinet.
"Harry?" Ron's drowsy voice came from behind. "You all right?"
Seeing this, Harry said quickly, "Voldemort's follower is going to steal the Philosopher's Stone. We've got to tell a professor."
"Oh, you mean Volde—"
"!"
Ron's eyes flew wide; he jerked upright, all sleep gone.
In the moonlight, his face turned as pale as Harry's.
"Hang on—what did you say?" Ron said in horror. "You mean… You-Know-Who?"
Harry nodded heavily. "Vol—… You-Know-Who might be stealing the Philosopher's Stone right now. The Stone can help him return."
Ron's mouth opened and closed. In the end, he said blankly, "Has your head gone wrong? Or did you sleep yourself stupid?"
"I'm not joking!" Harry said as he pulled his robes on.
Seeing this, Ron scrambled out of bed too and almost tripped over his own pyjamas.
He couldn't just watch his best mate do something daft.
After the two of them had hurriedly dressed,—
"I'm going to tell Professor Wesson," Harry said solemnly to Ron. "Are you coming?"
"Of course."
Although Ron thought Harry was talking nonsense, he still nodded.
Then Harry picked up the Chinese Chomping Cabbage, Gulu, from the windowsill, took the Invisibility Cloak from under the bed, and headed for the door.
Ron hurried after him.
Gulu didn't even know what was happening before Harry had already scooped it up.
As they passed through the Gryffindor common room, they were surprised to find one lamp still lit.
Hermione was curled up in the armchair by the fireplace, a heavy A History of Magic spread across her knees.
At the sound of movement, she snapped her head up, her eyes round as saucers.
"Harry? And Ron?" She looked, puzzled, at the sneaking Harry and Ron. "What are you two up to at this hour?"
Seeing it was Hermione, Harry relaxed a fraction.
"We should be asking you that," Ron said. "What are you doing in the common room?"
Hermione put her book on the table and shrugged. "As you can see, revising A History of Magic. You do know the end-of-year exams are next month—I have to make the most of the time."
"Revising? But it's one in the morning!" Ron yelped.
"I know," Hermione said, giving Ron a casual glance and a nod. "Which is why I was just about to go to bed."
Then Hermione changed tack. "So what are you two doing—out for a midnight wander? I don't recommend—"
"No."
Harry shook his head quickly, then gave Hermione a brief account of the dream he had just had and said he was going to tell Professor Wesson at once.
Hermione fell silent for a moment, then looked at Harry. "It was only a dream."
Clearly, she thought what Harry said was a bit far-fetched.
"I'm sure it's not that simple," Harry said firmly. "It really happened. If you're willing to believe me, come with us."
With that, Harry and Ron turned and headed for the door.
Seeing this, Hermione had no choice but to follow.
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