As soon as class ended, Draco hurried after Tver.
"No more classes today?"
"Mm-hm!"
With the day's lessons finished and the professor's private session about to begin, the double dose of excitement had Draco practically striding on air. There was no trace left of his earlier resentment after being knocked to the ground by Goyle.
"So, have you finished your homework? I remember your last assignment looked quite similar to Rose's. You didn't copy it, did you?"
"…We did it together! That's right! We worked on the assignment together! We discussed everything, so it's only natural our ideas turned out similar! Just like Potter…"
Draco explained guiltily, rambling on without realizing how much he was trying to justify himself.
"Potter?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Harry lingering by the doorway. His expression instantly shifted back to its usual arrogance, as if he hadn't been the one acting guilty just moments ago.
"What are you doing here? If I remember correctly, you should still be in class."
"I was in Divination, but… I got a headache, so I came out."
Harry had intended to ignore Malfoy, but the moment he saw the professor, the worry on his face gave way to relief.
"A headache?" Tver frowned.
Ever since the summer, when Harry had come into contact with Voldemort and Marvolio, the Horcrux inside him seemed to have become far more active.
Following Sirius's repeated instructions in his letters, Harry's headaches had been occurring more and more frequently.
"Yeah," Harry said, rubbing his temple with some irritation. "I even had a strange dream during class."
"You didn't fall asleep in class and knock your head, did you?" Draco crossed his arms, looking pleased with himself.
"So much for a Champion… ow."
Tver withdrew his hand after tapping Draco on the head and walked toward the office door.
"You head back first…"
Draco's displeasure was written all over his face.
Last time he had already missed a lesson because of this, and now he was going to miss another one?
"Alright," Tver said, noticing his expression and sounding a bit helpless as he pulled Harry into the office. "Go put your bag away first, then come back."
Draco didn't even reply. He grabbed his bag and hurried off toward the stairs.
Tver shrugged at the dumbfounded Harry and led him into the office.
"You said you had a dream? What kind of dream was it?"
Harry had barely sat down when he saw the professor pouring him pumpkin juice while asking.
That urgent?
He was momentarily puzzled, then quickly remembered he needed to answer.
"Of course. Sirius told me that if the headaches kept happening, I should come find you."
In truth, Sirius had told him to go to Dumbledore first. But halfway there, he realized he didn't know the password to the headmaster's office, so he ended up coming to Professor Fawley instead.
That was hardly something he needed to mention. After all, he, Harry Potter, had some sense of tact.
"The main thing is, I saw… no, I mean, I dreamed about Peter Pettigrew!"
...
Voldemort sat on the sofa in the second-floor living room, staring blankly ahead. His skeletal body remained completely still, as if he truly were nothing more than a skeleton.
"Peter Pettigrew, come upstairs."
After a long silence, he finally spoke in a hoarse voice. Even so, his words carried clearly to the floor below.
Something was wrong.
Peter's hand trembled, nearly knocking over the milk jug he was holding.
He quickly steadied it, forcing himself to focus on the strange feeling from just now.
Not only had the Dark Lord never called him upstairs before, he was also using his full name instead of the usual "Wormtail."
Even his voice sounded different.
Normally, when the Dark Lord was strong, his voice resembled that of a normal human. When he was weak, it became like the hiss of a snake flicking its tongue.
But now, while it still carried that cold, snake-like quality, it also sounded strangely full, almost like a normal voice.
Even so, Peter did not dare delay. While his limited mind struggled to make sense of it, he hurried up the stairs for the very first time.
"Master, I… Master?!"
Peter stared at the Dark Lord before him in shock, his face twisting from sheer disbelief.
"Come here, Peter… come to me…"
Voldemort closed his eyes, a strange smile spreading across his face, as if he were savoring something. His voice, however, was soft, almost like a murmur, yet it carried a chilling weight that seemed to seep straight into the soul.
Peter trembled.
Voldemort's body was still as gaunt as before, but his face looked suddenly much older, lined with deep wrinkles, his eye sockets sunken.
And yet, in this state, something about him felt wrong. Even more terrifying than before.
As Peter hesitated his way forward, Voldemort's lips curled slightly.
Then, without warning, he opened his eyes.
Those eyes were revealed in an instant.
The crimson had completely faded, replaced by a sinister yellow like a snake's. Within them was a strange vitality that clashed sharply with his withered appearance, as if something alive had been forced into a corpse that had already decayed down to bone.
But Peter had no time to think.
The moment their eyes met, his entire body froze.
It felt as though his soul and body had been forcibly separated. All he could do was stand there, helpless, as Voldemort slowly drew in his soul with each breath.
...
"That's all?" Tver looked at Harry in surprise as he finished speaking, his voice hoarse from talking.
"Yeah. After that, my scar started hurting more and more, and the pain woke me up." Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice, easing his throat.
After a brief pause, he glanced at the professor, who had fallen into thought.
"Professor… that was just a dream, right?"
Even though it was Peter Pettigrew suffering, the scene he had witnessed still left Harry shaken.
The memory felt so real that even calling it a dream made him feel like he was lying to himself.
"Perhaps," Tver replied vaguely.
Harry's situation was under Dumbledore's responsibility. That had been their agreement, so he did not tell Harry the rather harsh truth.
Besides, compared to the small Horcrux in Harry's head, Tver was far more concerned about Voldemort's current state and whether Peter Pettigrew was still alive.
Peter could not die just like that. At the very least, not this soon.
But since this had only just happened today, it would take some time before any reply from Peter could arrive.
Of course, there might not be any reply at all.