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'We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry,' said Mr Weasley, still smiling.

'Nick, can I ask you something?'


He walked a short way around the lake, sat down on its bank, sheltered from the gaze of passers-by behind a tangle of shrubs, and stared out over the gleaming water, thinking . . .

'Well, Potter, Malfoy, I think you ought to be outside on a glorious day like this,' Professor McGonagall continued briskly.


Nothing happened. The frustrated face looking back out of the mirror was still, definitely, his own . . .


Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes.


Harry felt as though something was closing in on him. His breathing seemed difficult again.

'So, anyway,' said Hermione, sitting up a little straighter and wincing again, 'what's going on in school?'


'He chose the boy he thought most likely to be a danger to him,' said Dumbledore. 'And notice this, Harry: he chose, not the pure-blood (which, according to his creed, is the only kind of wizard worth being or knowing) but the half-blood, like himself. He saw himself in you before he had ever seen you, and in marking you with that scar, he did not kill you, as he intended, but gave you powers, and a future, which have fitted you to escape him not once, but four times so far - something that neither your parents, nor Neville's parents, ever achieved.'

But when the dormitory door closed behind Ron, Harry made no effort to speed up his packing. The very last thing he wanted to do was to attend the Leaving Feast. He was worried that Dumbledore would make some reference to him in his speech. He was sure to mention Voldemort's return; he had talked to them about it last year, after all . . .


Sirius didn't have his mirror on him when he went through the archway, said a small voice in Harry's head. That's why it's riot working . . .


'I'm sorry,' Harry mumbled.


Harry shrugged. 'Just didn't feel like it.'


They looked at each other. Luna was smiling slightly. Harry did not know what to say, or to think; Luna believed so many extraordinary things . . . yet he had been sure he had heard voices behind the veil, too.,


'Nothing,' said Harry truthfully.;