At Lord Voldemort's side, Nagini stirred and a few moments later, Wormtail appeared in the doorway, clutching two pieces of parchment in his mangled hand.
"I've d-done it," he said. "C-created the message parchments."
"Good," Lord Voldemort replied. It seemed they were normal bits of parchment this time - far less conspicuous than the postcard system Wormtail and Lucius had - and also far less likely to be recognised as the same thing if Potter or Dumbledore did happen to catch a glimpse of it. "Let me know when Crouch has received it."
"Yes, my L-lord," Wormtail said, and bowed, but didn't leave.
"What is it, Wormtail?"
"I'll need an address," Wormtail said in a rush. "For where to send it. I don't know where Crouch is, and you've not seen fit to tell me who he is-" This last was added somewhat sulkily. "-so-"
"Ah, yes," Lord Voldemort said. "Procure a Ministry post stamp, then, and I'll address it and send it."
"Can you…?" Wormtail seemed to think better of the question and bowed again, making for the door.
"Wormtail?" Wormtail flinched at the address.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Ensure you keep your parchment on you at all times," Lord Voldemort said. He didn't think there was much risk that that wouldn't be the case; Wormtail's days consisted of little social interaction and self-directed training, so he'd doubtless find the parchment a welcome distraction. "If Crouch needs something, you are to provide it. I will not be forgiving if something does not go to plan at this late stage because you were distracted or slow to respond. Potter and Dumbledore must both know something is coming, and they will be on high alert. Communication and timing will be everything." Nagini let out a soft hiss and Wormtail bobbed his head but lingered once again. "What?"
"It would be easier to help him if I knew who-"
"You know all you need to know," Lord Voldemort hissed. "And I-" Trepidation so strong it was almost fear tugged at Lord Voldemort's gut. He cocked his head and smiled.
"You w-what?" Wormtail dared to ask.
"Leave me," Lord Voldemort said, and dismissed him with a wave of his hand, eyes already slipping shut.
Wormtail was used to this nightly routine and made himself scarce without comment or complaint.
Lord Voldemort reached for the connection between himself and the boy. A year ago he'd have likened it to the entrance to the room where his diadem resided; impossible to find except by complete accident. Staring at the place where the doorway was gave no indication of what was behind it, and only watching it at every moment of every day would let him know if it was in use; the rest of the time, it could open and close and he'd be none the wiser, nor could he tell from opening it himself when it might have last been used.
Now, it was different:
An obvious doorway rather than a concealed one, one that was worn from use, with a doorknob and hinges that squeaked each time it was touched or opened… though, best he could tell, only when it was opened from the boy's side. There was also a large gap under it, through which Lord Voldemort could see light and moving shadows; it did not let through specific thoughts or words, or even images, but it did let through feelings, and as a person would adjust to their neighbours' noises through a shared wall or in a common area, Lord Voldemort had adjusted to Potter's feelings, had learned to read them, and had grown both attuned to them and also so used to them that they were easy to ignore when it suited him.
Potter did not want to sleep, feared sleep, and, yet, in true Gryffindor fashion rallied and made the attempt to each and every night. Lord Voldemort wasn't sure if he admired the boy's persistence or found it ridiculous.
Though, he supposed it was possible that it wasn't persistence at all, but rather a tiredness so bone deep that drove him to try.
Regardless, it served Lord Voldemort's purposes.
He eased open the door to their connection.
Ginny was stumbling through the Chamber's maze ahead of him obviously searching for a way out. Her shoes slapped softly on the damp stone floor, the occasional bone crunching underfoot, and she looked very small and pale in the dim, watery light.
Harry caught up easily and reached out to put a hand on her shoulder as a reminder that he was there with her, that she wasn't alone, that they'd get out. Ginny lashed out with her hands and feet and Harry realised too late that he'd frightened her, that perhaps she hadn't known he was there. She was too weak from Riddle and the diary for it to actually hurt him, and he kept ahold of her shoulder because she looked like she was going to fall over at any moment.
"Ginny," he said, and just as he moved to get an arm under hers, or around her back she collapsed. Harry dropped to the tunnel floor beside her. "Ginny."
"H-Harry," she said, voice urgent but faint, and he remembered this, but they'd had this conversation at the base of the statue not in the tunnels and this wasn't how it was supposed to go, but it was how it was happening. "I-I'm sorry."
"Let's get you out of here," he said. "Can you walk?" But she'd gone still and quiet. Her eyes hadn't closed but he almost wished they had; they were open, fixed on something he couldn't see, that no one living would be able to see. "Ginny," he said thickly, squeezing her cold, limp hand. "Ginny." He cast around for Ron, desperate, for Fawkes, who ought to arrive at any moment, and then the phoenix was there, bright and warm and too late.
The fire grew brighter and brighter and then it wasn't a bird at all, it was a lion, and Dora was shouting at him:
"Harry, run!" And Harry did, backing away from the clearing as the cat advanced on Moody and a pregnant Dora. Padfoot lay still and alone off to one side, surrounded by burning forest. They'd die without him there. If he was there he could- he didn't know what, but he could do something. Guard over Padfoot, perhaps distract the fiendfyre long enough for Moody or Dora to do something about it, or maybe get away themselves, and he had to go back, but he couldn't. His feet carried him away, deeper into the trees.
Dementors closed in around him and he tried for a patronus but could only manage faint, silvery mist.
Something tugged at his wrist and he spun thinking it was a dementor reaching for him or Wormtail leading him into the trees, but it was Hermione, stumbling along and clutching the shackle at her own wrist. Blood ran steadily down her arm and Wormtail was nowhere in sight but Harry didn't have time to ponder why because the dementors were closing in.
"Expecto patronum," Harry tried, but it was no use. Hermione made a muffled shriek, her breaths sharp and short and pained and then she went pale and pitched forward. Harry tried to catch her but couldn't in time. She hit the leafy ground and Harry could smell blood - lots of blood - and he dropped to his knees beside her to reduce the pressure on the manacle between them.
He was just lifting his wand to heal her wrist when a scabby hand seized his face and forced his head up. Peripherally, he could see a dementor reaching for Hermione.
Then there was light, not the silvery blue of a patronus or anything else that might save them; it was a bright, sickly green and when it cleared enough for him to see through it, he was still on the ground but no longer in the forest. Hermione was gone and in her place lay James, dead. Harry recoiled, turned away but on his other side was Lily, too still, too pale, tears not yet dry on her cheeks, and Harry scrambled upright-
The covers fell off him and his dark room at Grimmauld came into blurred focus.
It was quiet; and Harry could still see the moonlit clouds and streetlamps outside. If he listened carefully he could hear Padfoot's deep breathing, and, though he couldn't hear them, he knew Kreacher was asleep in his cupboard on the landing, and that Hermione was asleep in her usual room downstairs.
Harry rubbed his eyes and pushed back the covers.
Ostendere me omnia, he thought, and twisted on the spot, thinking of the training room on Grimmauld's ground floor.
"Hell- oh," Marlene opened the door a little wider. "Harry. Is everything all right?" He seemed both resigned and chagrined by the question.
"Yeah, fine," he said, and she didn't quite believe him. He looked tired, pale, and like he'd lost a bit of weight. Not in a just-had-a-growth-spurt sort of way either. "Just thought I'd come say hi."
Marlene frowned a little - it was barely seven - but she wasn't about to complain about company, so stepped back to let him inside.
"I was just finishing breakfast," she said. "Have you eaten?"
"Yeah," he said, as he trailed her to the kitchen.
She poured him a cup of tea and - despite him having said he'd eaten - set a plate with two jam-heavy bits of toast in front of him. Harry eyed the plate, then her, then took a cautious bite. Marlene wondered whether he'd lied about breakfast, or if he felt like he needed the sugar as much as she thought he looked like he did.
"How are your holidays going?" she asked. He shrugged.
"Fine," he said. "Pretty quiet so far." He cocked his head. "Are you coming tomorrow night?"
"I'll be there," she said. He looked surprised to hear it. "Am I not supposed to be?"
"I figured you'd be working." He shrugged again.
"I've actually had the last couple of days off," she said. "Healer's orders." She held up her hand, which was out of bandages now, but still bore the not-quite-healed blisters from a rather nasty apothecary explosion.
"We're matching," he said, with grim amusement, and held up his own hand. It too was healing, though not, Marlene didn't think, from burns. "Splinched this morning," he said, making a face.
"You healed yourself?" she asked, reaching for his hand. It wasn't quite as neat as Sirius' healing work, which was what had tipped her off, but it was probably a better job than she herself could have done; her healing skills consisted of the basic healing magic they learned during Auror training. She told him so, and Harry smiled again, just as grim as before:
"I've been working on it a bit lately."
"Splinching?" Marlene asked. Harry didn't smile like she'd hoped.
"A bit," he said, grimacing, and she frowned a little, wondering what Sirius thought of that, and then thought it wasn't really her place to wonder anymore. "But I meant healing."
"It's a good skill to have," she said. "The healing, that is." That, finally, won a tiny but genuine smile. "Are you practicing because of the Tournament?" He shrugged.
"Were you in St Mungo's?" He nodded at her hand.
"Only to get it treated," she said. "I was back here within a couple of hours." Harry opened his mouth, frowned, then shut it.
"But you've been keeping busy?" he asked eventually, uncertain.
"Not really," she said. She smiled, wry: "Honestly, I've been bored. I don't really know what to do with my time off at the moment. Work's just… it's something to do."
"Is there a reason you haven't come by Number Twelve, then?" Harry asked tentatively. "There hasn't been anything exciting happening, but at least you'd have had company."
"I've thought about it," she said honestly. "But…" She shrugged and smiled a little sadly.
"Are you and Padfoot fighting?" he asked, still tentative but now frowning.
"We're not fighting," she said. "It was an amicable separation, it's just-"
"Separation?!" Harry blurted, eyes wide.
Marlene stared at him. He stared back.
"Sirius and I agreed to stop seeing each other just before Christmas," she said at last. It was obvious from the look on his face that that was news to Harry. It was also obvious that he was thinking back over the last few months and considering them through the lens of that bit of information.
"Why didn't either of you say anything?" he asked at last. He looked a bit angry and a bit confused and a bit upset.
"I assumed you knew," she said apologetically. "I thought Sirius would have told you." Why hadn't he? He couldn't have forgotten, or not had the right opportunity, not when it had been almost four months and they were both together every day at Hogwarts. So why? Denial? Embarrassment? Anger? Or was Sirius trying not to give Harry another thing to worry about? "I haven't seen much of you since then, but when we have seen each other, I've assumed you didn't mention it because you were trying not to make a big deal about it."
"Why?" Harry asked. "Not- I mean, why'd you and Padfoot…?"
"We hadn't been seeing much of each other," she said. "We were both busy with other things. Work, and the Order, and he was obviously busy helping you prepare for the Tournament…"
"Right," Harry said, after another long moment. She couldn't read his expression at all now. "Who decided?"
"I did," she said, a little apologetically. "Sirius- wasn't particularly happy about it. I wasn't either, for that matter-"
"Then why did you?" Harry asked. "If neither of you wanted to break up-"
"It was for the best," Marlene said, gently. "For both of us. And it wasn't nasty - we're still friends."
Harry frowned, but his next question wasn't to probe deeper into the whys and whos:
"Do Moony and Dora know?"
Marlene wanted to say yes, but found herself unsure. She'd told Gawain and Amelia, and Alice and Frank - not that they'd be spreading the news - and she'd certainly never lied or pretended otherwise to Remus or Dora, but thinking back, she wasn't sure she'd said anything outright. She'd assumed Sirius would tell them when he was ready, and she'd assumed that he had… but if Harry hadn't known… Remus hadn't said anything to her - but, as with Harry - she'd sort of assumed that Remus wouldn't want to pry and make things awkward; he'd leave that sort of thing to Dora, who absolutely would pry… but hadn't, at least not so far.
"I'd thought they would, but now I don't know," she said, and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sirius was an adult, and it was his choice whether he told people or not, but if he'd been intending to keep it quiet, he ought to have said something to her so she hadn't found herself the one who'd unknowingly spilled the beans to Harry. "I'm sorry," she said to Harry, "I promise I wasn't keeping anything from you on purpose."
"I know you weren't," Harry said, and Marlene wondered if she'd imagined the little inflection on you. Poor, but not completely undeserving Sirius.
Should she warn him she wondered? If the look on Harry's face was any indication, a warning might not go astray, but then again, this was his mess, not hers (though she'd walked right through it) and perhaps she ought to just leave him to deal with it as he saw fit. "It is going to be weird now that I know?" Harry asked.
"Not for me," Marlene said firmly. "Like I said, I'd assumed you already did. I can't speak for you though. Or for Sirius."
"Padfoot can deal with it," Harry muttered. The look on his face was all Lily and it made Marlene smile. "You should visit more."
"Perhaps once you're back at school," she said.
"I thought you and Padfoot were still friends," he said.
"We are," Marlene said, and sighed. "But if you insist… how about tomorrow night?" Harry brightened, then scowled.
"You're visiting tomorrow night anyway," he said. "For the meeting."
"So I am," she said blithely. "Fancy that." Harry's smile - equal parts exasperated and amused - was all Lily, too.
Sirius took one look at the expression on Remus' face and lowered the essay he was grading. It was Remus' Prefect face, and it was only now that he was seeing it that Sirius realised it had been a while since he had seen it. Even so, it was easy to fall back into old habits:
"What have I done?" he asked. Remus came to sit on the other couch, considering him. His scent was troubled and a little confused, and it made Sirius nervous. "Moony?"
There was a yelp and then a babyish giggle and the sound of Hermione's laughter; Sirius took to mean that Stella was downstairs with Harry. Remus cocked his head and smiled faintly, but his eyes never left Sirius, and he sobered quickly.
"Is Dora here too?" Sirius asked, listening for her.
"No," Remus said. "She went to Marlene's as soon as she heard." He smiled fondly and shook his head. "Hufflepuffs." His expression stayed polite, voice light and even and Sirius grimaced.
"Well, I suppose that's one more word than you've had to say about it so far," Remus said. "Any others?" Sirius lifted his middle finger but his heart wasn't in it, and Remus only arched an eyebrow.
"I didn't know what to say," Sirius sighed.
"How about Remus, I've done something stupid, or Remus, Marlene broke my heart. I'm not sure which way it played out, so-"
"The second way," Sirius said, not quite able to look at him.
"Oh," Remus said, and was quiet for a moment, then: "And here I was gearing up to return the favour for the time you got all high and mighty with me after I ended things with Dora." He smiled but it was tight and wan and Sirius couldn't even muster a smile in response. "I'm sorry, Padfoot."
"S'all right," Sirius said. "I've had a bit of time to adjust to the idea. I'm managing all right." Remus gave him a searching look, but seemed satisfied with what he found. And so he should have been; to say Sirius was completely over it would have been a lie, but ninety-nine percent of the time he was okay. The disappointment and hurt and loneliness had eased into acceptance and now he was just getting on with things. Teaching, the Order, and worrying over Harry was more than enough to keep him occupied.
"It has been almost four months, if Harry's to be believed," Remus said lightly, and it felt a bit like an accusation, even though Sirius was sure he didn't mean it as one.
He grunted in concession, then sighed and asked, "Harry knows?"
"He does. He's the one that told me, or rather, asked me if I knew." Sirius waited but Remus didn't elaborate. "Why didn't you say anything, Sirius? I asked you if you were all right, multiple times-"
"You never asked about Marlene," Sirius muttered. Remus gave him another Prefect look, and Sirius sighed again. "It was bad timing - there was Christmas, and you were dealing with the aftermath of Skeeter's article, and Harry'd just pulled that stunt with Fleur, and was trying to learn the bubblehead charm… And, honestly… I didn't want to talk about it." Sirius rubbed a hand over his face. "S'not like there was anything to say… And then it'd been long enough that I sort of assumed you'd guessed, or spoken to Marl about it and just didn't want to hassle me-"
"When have I ever turned down the opportunity to hassle you?" Remus asked. Sirius snorted.
"Wishful thinking." He sighed again and glanced over at Remus, who still looked troubled. "Are you- are we-?"
"Okay?" Remus asked. Sirius nodded. "I was going to ask you the same." That made Sirius feel wretched and Remus must have smelled it because he shifted. "You're well within your rights to keep personal matters to yourself," he said after a moment. "It's not my business unless you want it to be, and you clearly didn't want it to be this time." Remus paused. "That's… allowed."
"Not really the way we've tended to operate, though, is it?" Sirius asked.
"Not really, no," Remus said, glancing at him. He smelled relieved, clearly glad Sirius had been the one to say it.
They were both quiet for a bit.
"Hey, Moony," Sirius said after about a minute.
"Marlene broke my heart and then I did something stupid." Remus' mouth twitched. "Or, rather, I didn't do something because I'm stupid."
"That does sound more likely," Remus mused.
"Sorry," Remus said. "It's just been a while since you've given me the opportunity to offer you any kind of support, and I've rather forgotten how to go about it-"
"Oh, shove off," Sirius said, and Remus smirked. "Look, I promise it's not anything you've done or haven't done," Sirius said. "I just wanted to lick my wounds in private and not make a big deal out of it-"
"Well, you succeeded," Remus said, but it was a little warmer than before. "And in hindsight, it's probably not surprising. You've never been good at being rational when it comes to Marlene." Sirius grunted. "Nor, in fairness, has she been with you," Remus added.
"How's Harry taking it?" Sirius asked after a pause.
"That would be a conversation for the two of you, I think."
"At least let me know what I'm walking into," Sirius said, kicking Remus' foot. "Is he going to be broody or shouty?"
"I suspect the former," Remus said.
"He's too much like James," Sirius said, resigned and fond.
"It's not James he gets it from," Remus said, with a pointed look at Sirius. Sirius made another rude gesture in response. "Is he all right? Harry?"
"I just asked you that-"
"I meant generally," Remus said. "All of this aside."
"Stressed, I think," Sirius said. "This year's just been… But he's all right." Remus frowned. "Why? Did he say something?"
"No," Remus said. "He just seems…" Remus didn't seem to have a word for it.
"He hasn't said anything," Sirius said, frowning; he'd noticed that Harry was a bit withdrawn and tired, but he hadn't thought it was because of anything in particular. He'd just assumed everything was catching up with him. "He's mentioned a nightmare here or there, but nothing major, and nothing from Voldemort, I don't think."
"Would he say something?"
"I- probably," Sirius said. "Maybe." He sighed. "Maybe not - maybe he takes too much after his git of a godfather." Remus chuckled. "But, none of the others have said anything, and I think they would if there was anything really wrong. Right?"
"I don't know," Remus said. "That's why I'm asking."
He had been right to ask, Sirius decided; when he saw Harry a bit later that day, it was with his conversation with Remus in mind, and Harry did look… not himself. He and Hermione were in the training room on the ground floor, and as Sirius walked in, Harry shifted from a rather hunched-looking wolf to a pale teenager.
"No," Hermione said, tipping her head back with a huff. "Was it more difficult, at least?"
"Not really," Harry said, and though he looked rather pleased with himself, there were bags under his eyes and a tired slump to his shoulders that wasn't quite right. He glanced at Sirius as he approached.
"Got a minute?" Sirius asked, and Harry's shoulder even felt thin under his hand. Sirius frowned and Harry glanced at him again, frowning too.
"Right now?" Harry asked, with a set to his jaw that said he wasn't going to make this easy.
"I'm happy to reschedule if now's inconvenient," Sirius said, glancing between Harry and Hermione.
"It is, a bit-"
"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said. "We can work on this later - I actually think I need to do a bit more reading up on it anyway, since it's determined not to work. You and Sirius can talk while I do." Harry gave her a baleful look and Hermione pursed her lips. Sirius caught Hermione's eye as she excused herself, grateful, but the look she gave him was no less severe.
"She's a bit scary, isn't she," Sirius remarked, and thought he heard a pleased, amused sound from Hermione as she started up the stairs in the hallway.
"Always has been," Harry said, but didn't warm to the conversation the way Sirius had hoped.
"What were you working on?"
"She wants to learn how to stop animagi transforming… like a reverse homorphus charm." Sirius let out a low whistle.
"Because of Skeeter?"
"I think so." Harry cast an uncertain look at the door. "Not really sure what the plan is after she… I dunno, traps her or whatever."
"Scary," Sirius said again. Harry shrugged his agreement. "I was hoping we could talk."
"I figured." Sirius gave him a quelling look and sat down on the padded floor. He patted the space beside him but Harry remained standing.
"I figured we might start with Marlene." A series of expressions flitted over Harry's face, too complicated to name, and his scent was a bit of a mess. He dropped rather ungracefully to the floor beside Sirius.
Finally, Harry asked, "Are you okay?"
Sirius blinked, then laughed a little.
"Yeah, kiddo, I'm doing all right." Sirius knocked their shoulders together. Harry bumped gently back, but there was something off about it. "To start with I was a bit… But I'm getting there."
"Okay," Harry said, not looking at him. Sirius waited for the inevitable follow up question - or ten - but nothing came. Harry's scent was reluctant now, and oddly fragile. There was none of the anger Sirius had been expecting.
"Okay?" Sirius said uncertainly. "That's it? That's all you want to say?" Harry shrugged and nodded, still not really looking at him. "And you're not mad I didn't tell you?" Sirius asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, but I sort of expected you would be."
"Well, I'm not," Harry said.
"Remus was mad," Sirius said.
"I'm not Remus," Harry said.
"Apparently not," Sirius said, considering him. "Why aren't you mad?"
"If I was you, I wouldn't want to talk about it with me either," Harry said. When he didn't expand on that, Sirius nudged him. Very reluctantly, Harry said: "Marlene said you weren't seeing much of each other, that that was why." Sirius nodded. Harry's mouth turned down and he stared down at the floor. "And a big part of that's probably that you're at Hogwarts," he said, without looking at Sirius. He didn't add, And you're at Hogwarts because of me, but he didn't need to; Sirius heard it loud and clear.
"No," he said. Harry did look up at him then. "I mean, yes, but it's not-" Sirius let out a gusty breath. "This is in no way, shape, or form your fault."
"Isn't it?" Harry asked.
"If you gave me a time turner that'd go back far enough and the knowledge that this'd be the result of my moving to Hogwarts this year, I wouldn't change a thing." It was true, too; it was something Sirius had mulled over in the first few weeks.
"Okay," Harry said, but he didn't look any happier.
"My priority is you," Sirius said. "Over anyone and anything." He nudged Harry again and offered him a smile. Harry didn't return it. "And," Sirius continued, "there's not anything anyone - you included - could say or do to convince me otherwise. That's my choice. So, really, that makes all this my fault. And not telling you was me being- it wasn't anything all to do with you, I just wanted to brood and not talk about it. You had every right to know a lot sooner than this, and I should've-" Sirius sighed and shook his head. "If I was you, I'd be angry with me."
"Okay," Harry said again, and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. His scent was not at all angry, but it was somehow even more fragile. "'s that all you wanted to talk about?"
"What's going on?" Sirius asked, studying him. Harry straightened, expression closing off:
"What do you mean?"
"Kiddo," Sirius said flatly.
"It's nothing." They stared each other down, Harry looking more defiant now than he had for the entire conversation.
Just when Sirius was becoming sure that Harry wouldn't say anything, Harry, so quietly that Sirius wouldn't have heard if it wasn't for his excellent hearing, said, "Dreams."
"What sort of dreams?" Sirius asked, frowning, and did not like Harry's bleak expression, or his scent- Sirius reached for him without thinking and tucked him tight against his side in a way he hadn't really done since before Harry had started Hogwarts. Harry trembled. "Why haven't you said anything?"
"I have," Harry said. "Sort of." He shrugged, shoulders lifting Sirius' arm but not dislodging it.
"I know you had a few after the third task, but you said they were just nightmares."
"They are," Harry said, and sounded exhausted. "Or maybe they're not. I don't know anymore."
"What are they about?" Sirius asked. Harry shook his head.
"No," Harry said, firm. "I deal with them every night, I'm not going to think about them during the day, too."
Except he obviously was. Sirius opened his mouth to point that out, then processed the rest of what Harry had said:
"Every night?" Harry went rigid against him for a moment, then slumped and nodded. "Since the third task?" That had been at the end of February, and it was now April. "Kiddo-"
"I can't make them stop," Harry said, and sounded very young as he did.
"Well, maybe I can come up with something," Sirius said.
"You can't," Harry said, and it was both annoyed and despairing. "We've tried everything. Sleeping charms and potions, Occlumency meditations, Luna keeps offering me trinkets and Ginny gave me a dreamcatcher with runes that Bill gave her at the end of her first year."
"And you didn't think to come to me?" Sirius asked.
"For what?" Harry asked. "So you can worry too? Nothing works - Ginny's was the only one that worked at all, and that was only for a night back in March." It was as if a dam had broken: "It doesn't matter if it's at night, or if I try to nap before dinner, or at lunch, it's always the same, and it doesn't matter whether I'm here, or in the dorm, or in the Room - I've tried Dreamless Sleep, I've tried sleeping as a wolf- I can't-"
"Is it Voldemort?" Sirius asked. If Dreamless Sleep wasn't working, then they couldn't be normal dreams. He couldn't have been cursed, or the runes from Ginny would have stopped it - especially if Bill had a hand in making them.
"I don't know," Harry said.
"Well," Sirius said, grimly, "I imagine that's the place to start, then."