In the Melancholy Moonlight

Chapter L: We've Got Brighter Lights Back Home

I'm saying goodbye to the skyline
Hello to the sweet pines
Gonna see you later street lights
I'm headed back to tree lines
To free time and starry nights
To bonfires and fireflies
Pack your bags it's time to go
'Cause we've got brighter lights back home

"Back Home"
Owl City feat. Jake Owen

HARRY:

I awoke with a start. My scar was on fire.

I pressed one hand to my forehead while I groped around for my glasses with the other.

What a horrible nightmare.

Still clutching my burning scar, I went to look at it in the mirror to see if it was bleeding or glowing or doing anything similarly unusual, but it looked just the same as it always did.

I closed my eyes and tried to take a deep breath. The dream had seemed so real --- maybe even too real.

In my mind's eye, I saw the snake on the rug, I saw Peter Pettigrew, I saw the old man. And Voldemort... I heard Voldemort. I heard Voldemort say he was going to kill me.

I suddenly opened my eyes and spun in a rapid circle, looking for anything out of the ordinary about my room. I saw nothing, nothing at all, but I didn't know if that made me feel better or worse.

I made my way over to the window and glanced up and down Privet Drive. There was nothing unusual out there, either, but I still couldn't shake the fear that was coiling itself around my chest.

The last time my scar had hurt, it was because Voldemort had been near. I needed to tell someone.

My eyes landed on the three birthday cards on my windowsill.

I spied Ron's first. How would he react to me telling him my scar hurt?

"Your scar hurt? But... but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean... you'd know, wouldn't you? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't he? I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit, I'll ask Dad..."

I couldn't possibly tell Ron. He'd worry too much, and he would tell his family, then they would worry too much. And I didn't want their worry to spoil the Quidditch World Cup.

I saw Hermione's next. As soon as the thought of telling her crossed my mind, I heard her immediately beginning to panic, clear as day.

"Your scar hurt? Harry, that's really serious! Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions, maybe there's something in there about curse scars."

I entertained the notion of actually telling Dumbledore for a moment. What would I even say?

Dear Professor Dumbledore,
   Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning.
      Yours sincerely, Harry Potter

There was no way I'd write to Dumbledore; I'd sound incredibly stupid. I found myself wondering where Dumbledore spent his holidays --- the thought of him on a beach somewhere was a funny one. Lucy would find it funny too.

My eyes landed on her card next. Lucy! I could tell Lucy anything, so why not this? She wouldn't overreact. She never did. But what would she say?

"That's alright, Harry, we can try to figure out why your scar hurt. Do you want me to ask Cedric? He might have learned something about curse scars this summer at St. Mungo's. In the meantime, we should plan our first real Hogsmeade trip together, you and me and Ron and Hermione. Would that take your mind off of things?"