Chapter Text
It was the middle of the night. The dark sky was illuminated by the glowing moon and the gentle breeze rustled the leaves, disturbing the quiet ambience.
At night, the park looks like an abandoned graveyard. In the center is a huge marble fountain carved with the images of singing angels. During fall, the fountain would have been filled with fallen dry leaves.
But tonight, it is filled with dead bodies. The flowing water is now crimson red, from the blood. Most of them are in their night clothes, probably ambushed as they are about to sleep. Some have their eyes wide open, showing the fear they felt as they meet their death. Devastatingly, there are also a few children pushed in the stack.
Around the fountain are six hooded figures wearing masks and black cloaks. One of them is circling around the fountain while a stubby man observed holding a small creature on his hands.
The creature has a pale white skin and visible bone outlines. It looks very frail and gasps heavily as it breathes.
“Hah! Unlucky fools,” one of the men chortled and kicked some of the bodies.
“That is 68 bodies of traitors My Lord,” another man informed.
The feeble creature rasped. He gestured with his bony hand and a hissing sound was soon heard. Everyone looked at a very long and thick green snake emerging from its side. It glides on the rough ground until it reaches the marble surface of the fountain.
It slithers above the bodies until it stops in front of a dead woman. It licks the face first, before it aggressively strikes on the face causing blood to splatter everywhere. It eats the body limb by limb and soon enough the body is gone.
One of the hooded figures grimaced. “Well, that is 67 bodies then.”
The feeble creature gestured again, and the snake snuggled into his lap.
“Follow us back after finishing here,” the stubby man commanded the others and turned to leave carrying the feeble creature and the snake in its arms.
One of the men pulls up his wand and swings it to the sky. Soon, a green smoke that looked like a colossal skull with a snake protruding from its mouth emerged. The mark becomes bigger and bigger swallowing the whole sky.
Harold Connolly jolts awake with a gasp. He sits up quickly, rubbing the burning scar on his forehead. His body was all sweaty and trembling from the lingering fear he felt from the dream.
He surveyed the room he was in right now. The sight of the other children letting out soft snores in their bunk beds brought him relief. Glad to know that he was still in his room, back in the orphanage where he lives.
Perhaps skipping dinner last night was a terrible mistake after all. The orphanage has been facing financial difficulties lately. Being the only teen remaining, he thought it only right that he act like an adult and provide some help in solving their financial problem. And his idea of helping is skipping a few meals now and then.
But really, Harold and responsible just never fit in the same sentence together. Perhaps it has something to do with the lack of having a real guardian to teach him all about it. Or maybe its heredity, but how can he really know when he doesn’t know who his real parents are?
For all his life, he had been living in an orphanage. A rundown-looking building located near the center of London. Everyone here is a muggle, except their headmistress Ms. Cole. She is a witch but doesn’t associate herself with the wizarding world. She is a very sweet lady in her late twenties. She was never married but loved children, so she devoted her life to managing the orphanage just like her mother.
When Harold had his 11th birthday, Ms. Cole explained to him about being a wizard and introduced him to the magical world. She even talked to Dumbledore and made some arrangements so he could study at Hogwarts. She was a great help to Harold and for that, he will forever be thankful to her.
And Harold never thought of asking questions about his real parents. Knowing less makes him feel better than knowing the truth of why he was abandoned. Instead, he liked to think that they were muggles. They probably got scared when their child started showing magical abilities and decided to give him up.
Harold looks at the clock and sees that it is now past five in the morning. He got up from the bed and decided it was time to get ready.
He tiptoed across the room and opened the door as quietly as possible. He doesn’t want any of the children to wake up just yet. He always has a hard time explaining to them the idea of leaving for boarding school. They will start asking him questions about the school, what are the things he studies, and why he has a broom in his trunk. The more questions they have, the more slips up he will make.
It is the summer break before his fourth year at Hogwarts begins. It has been two months of pure muggle experience, and he missed the magical world already.
At last, he will be seeing his two best friends Ron and Hermione today. They planned to meet up in Diagon Alley and buy their new books and supplies together. Afterward, they will have a sleepover in Ron’s place before leaving for Hogwarts tomorrow.
The three of them have been exchanging letters all summer. Hermione mostly wrote about the books she had read throughout her vacation. She has particularly developed an interest in the topic of psychology. She even began giving Ron and Harold life advice, which greatly annoyed them both. Ron, who can’t comprehend the depth of what she is saying, and Harold, who refuses to admit that there may be some truth in what she is saying.
On the other hand, Ron wrote about his excitement about going to the Quidditch World Cup. He invited Harold, but he was busy with a summer job so only Ron and Hermione went. They promised to buy him souvenirs and tell him about the event. But strangely enough, he hasn’t heard from either of them since the Quidditch World Cup happened a few days ago. So, he was very excited to finally see them today.
After he was done getting dressed, he picked up his trunk with Hedwig and placed them near the front door. He then made his way to the room at the end of the hallway and lightly knocked on the door. Soon enough, Ms. Cole emerged from the door, still in her pajamas and undone hair.
"Harold!” she gasps, surprised to see Harold all dressed up so early in the morning. “Are you leaving already?"
Harold nodded, “I want to go early to meet my friends.”
“Alright, remember to always be careful.” Ms. Cole hesitated to speak. “I heard there was a huge accident last night in a nearby park.”
Harold remembers the dream he woke up to this morning but immediately brushed the thought away.
Ms. Cole reached out for a hug. Afterward, she led him to the door and waved him goodbye.
He set out to walk the damp streets of London, dragging his trunk on his right hand and Hedwig’s cage on his left hand. It was a lengthy walk, but the bus fare was not worth it. Besides, the street of London is not that crowded at this hour so it’s quite peaceful. After almost twenty minutes of walking, he arrived at his destination, in front of the Leaky Cauldron.
He stepped inside and was immediately greeted by suspecting looks from the people inside the pub. He took a bow (why did he do that?), then clumsily moved his belongings across the room to the door at the back alley. He tried to make a little noise as much as possible to avoid drawing too much attention to himself. However, it appears to be futile as everyone seems to be observing his every move and whispering about him.
He shut the door behind him and brushed his unkempt hair a little. The stares and whispers made him feel self-conscious about his appearance. He even took a shower that morning and wore his better clothes.
When he was satisfied with his hair (it’s still sticking out in all directions) he pulled out his wand and tapped the wall in a certain pattern making it open the entrance to Diagon Alley.
…..
The first thing he noticed was the eerie atmosphere in the streets. The place looks tragic. It reminds him of his emotions during his encounters with dementors last term.
It was late August, and the school term was just around the corner. The place should be bustling with children running around, accompanied by their parents. There would have been a lot of excited first-year students getting their uniforms tailored, gaping over the latest brooms, and purchasing their first wands from Ollivanders.
Instead, there were only a few people, all dressed in dark clothing, as if they were trying to blend in with the dark ambiance. They all walk in groups and look anxiously behind their backs from time to time.
Harold grabs his black coat tightly, trying to cover his bright blue shirt underneath.
“Oi!” Harold turned to the man who called beside him. He was leaning on a wall, the latest edition of what seems to be the Daily Prophet rolled beneath his arm. “Are you a muggle born?”
Harold quickly shook his head. His gut tells him that revealing to people he’s a muggle-born will surely put him in danger.
“I would be careful if I were you.” The man walked closer and whispered. “This is dark times we’re living in, dark times.”
Harold frowned. He would have asked the man for more information or at least lent him the copy of the newspaper, but the man already walked away.
With all the strange things he noticed since he arrived, he decided to take the man's advice and stay on the main streets. He settled his trunk in a corner and put Hedwig above it, then he sat on a bench nearby.
He pulled out his wand and settled it in his lap. He’s not allowed to use magic outside of school but just in case. He was just wondering about the time when he heard someone calling for his name.
“HAROLD! HAROLD!”
Ron and Hermione emerge from the streets. They were also both wearing black clothing, Hermione wearing a cloche hat. Their faces look disheveled, and their hair is full of grey powder. They probably just got out using the floo network from the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron.
When they reach Harold , they both have a sigh of relief. They hugged him after another and then shared a look. They were contemplating with each other when Hermione sighed and finally spoke, “Harold, you need to come with us, we need to tell you something important.”
Just by looking at their anxious faces and behavior, Harold immediately knew that this was a serious matter. So he followed them without question.
Hermione hands him a black cap and he immediately wears it. The three of them went back to the pub. They chose a table in a quiet corner and huddled their chairs together. Ron grabbed a copy of the Daily Prophet before taking his seat.
Ron took a long look around them before he leaned in and whispered, “Do you know anything about death eaters?”
Harold shook his head.
Ron nodded. “They are wizards and witches that are loyal followers of You-Know-Who. They are always seen wearing dark hooded robes and a weird mask and have a tattoo on their left arm."
“A few days ago, they caused chaos in the Quidditch World Cup,” Hermione glowered. “We were quite shaken, but we all managed to escape them.”
“Last night there was another attack in muggle London,” Ron continued as he showed the front page of the Daily Prophet. “It’s quite big news. The ministry is making a futile attempt to keep everyone calm and believe that You-Know-Who is still dead.”
DAILY PROPHET
DARK MARK SIGHTED: 67 BODIES PILED IN FINSBURY PARK FOUNTAIN
Harold took a closer look at the moving picture and scrunched his eyebrows. “What is that?”
“That is the dark mark, a sign of You-Know-Who,” Ron answered. “It’s a terrifying symbol, isn’t it?”
Harold nodded absentmindedly. He was busy skimming through the news article that he found strangely familiar. Every piece of information fits the nightmare that woke him up that morning.
“The three of us need to especially be careful,” Hermione explained, “As we are both muggle-borns, and Ron’s family is known to be associated with muggles.”
“I was there when this happened,” Harold mumbled.
“WHAT?!” Ron and Hermione exclaimed.
“Not like literally, just in my dream,” Harold clarified. “I was in the same park, and I saw the dead bodies exactly in this fountain. You-Know-Who was there, accompanied by death eaters. He looked really weak. They killed sixty-eight people, but a huge snake ate one. Before they left, they cast a spell, and the dark mark appeared in the sky.”
“Harold this is serious! Seeing things in your dreams, especially if it’s connected to You-Know-Who is unheard of,” Hermione gasped. “We should tell someone immediately and ask for their help.”
“NO!” cried Harold and Ron.
“Seriously Hermione, do you want to see Harold locked up in Azkaban?” Ron hissed. “The ministry is looking for someone to blame rather than admitting that it was You-Know-Who. If they found out about this, they might arrest Harold for suspicions.”
“I was just suggesting the best course of action to take. Besides, they won’t lock him up in Azkaban,” Hermione snapped back. “Having accurate nightmares won’t make him a murderer, if anything they might call him a seer.”
Ron and Hermione glared at each other.
Harold couldn’t be careless about choosing sides between his bickering friends. Hermione has a point. After all the trouble they had been in the past school years, they should really start seeking help from their elders more. But, Ron is right. If the ministry found out about his dreams, they may not arrest him, but they will ask questions, questions he doesn’t know the answer to.
“This is the first time I ever have dreams like this, so I’m not sure if it will even happen again,” Harold said. “We should just keep it to ourselves for now and see what happens.”
All of them agreed.