Harry's POV
I hauled Ron out of the hole that was his bed, chuckling at Dean's latest prank and taking a mental note to ask Hermione how it was done when she got back. As a second thought, I would also ask how to prevent it, just in case Ron wasn't the only victim.
"You'd think that he would have better things to do with his time," Ron grumbled. "It's not like we don't have enough homework already."
He made a good point. We had an ocean of homework and no Hermione to calm the storm because she went home for Christmas. She was due back two days later, but most of it was due in then.
"Come on, we gotta get started or we'll never get it done. We don't want Hermione worrying about us as well as her patrol duty with Malfoy." Ron grunted and pulled his robes on, tumbling into a bedpost. "Ouch!"
We were wrapped up in Astronomy star charts when we heard the unmistakable tap of an owl on the window. I jumped up and walked over. But it wasn't an owl. It was a raven, carrying a letter. I glanced at Ron, who shrugged, and unlatched the window. It flapped in, deposited the letter in a chair and with a loud squawk, poofed. It actually popped in a cloud of feathers. I stood there, a little surprised. Ron poked me and pointed at the letter, which was black as charcoal.
"Who d'you reckon sent it?" It was my turn to shrug.
I picked it up and broke the wax seal. The parchment inside was a normal colour the writing looked familiar.
Potter,
Meet? You may bring whomever you wish. I will be alone, where I met you first, at midnight in seven days.
-V
I couldn't remember why the loopy writing looked so familiar, but I decided it was sinister enough to show someone.
"This is way too weird. Let's go find McGonagall." Ron nodded.
Over Christmas, the corridors were clear so we didn't need to push our way through. What normally would have taken us fifteen minutes, now took five.
"Siamese" I panted to the gargoyle. The new headmistress had taken to making sure I knew her password, and it was usually a kind of cat.
Ron was doubled over beside me with a stitch. As the statue jumped aside and the staircase began to spiral upwards, I dragged Ron through the doorway. I knocked and entered without waiting for an invitation. McGonagall looked up from some paperwork, rather startled.
"What in the name of-" she spluttered.
"Sorry Professor, but we just had a strange letter." I apologised.
She sighed and held out her hand for the letter. I handed it to her thinking of the old Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He had died over the summer. It pissed me off that magic could remove all the bones in your arm, but it couldn't prevent a heart attack.
"Professor, the bird that brought it wasn't an owl." Ron tentatively muttered.
"What?" McGonagall looked up sharply. "What was it then?"
He cleared his throat nervously and mumbled "A raven."
McGonagall raised her eyebrows sceptically.
I interrupted impatiently.
"Look Professor, the raven came to the window with the envelope and we let it in. It dropped it in a chair and then poofed."
"Poofed?" she asked.
"Yeah, it kind of popped and then there were just feathers."
Her brow creased even more than usual.
"Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, would you mind waiting here while I examine this?" She called over her shoulder as she disappeared through a side door.
"Fine then" grumbled Ron. He began to nose around.
I let my eyes travel over the room, thinking that it hadn't changed much since McGonagall took over. There was the Sorting Hat; probably thinking up next year's greeting song. Next to it was the case containing Godric Gryffindor's sword, which I had used three years ago to kill the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. On the shelf below that was the diary that had possessed Ginny Weasley that same year. I shuddered at the memory of talking to Tom Riddle through it. I remembered each word he wrote as clearly as the scars 'I must not tell lies' on the back of my hand. I thought a bit more about the diary and how it looked like the letter in the other room. Suddenly, it clicked.
"RON" I hissed, keeping my voice low so I wouldn't alert McGonagall.
He snatched his hand away from a small golden bubble floating about waist height.
"Bloody hell, Harry! What?" he exclaimed.
"Sh! I know who sent the letter!"
"Really? Who was it?" he asked eagerly.
Before I could answer, the headmistress strode back in.
"Well it isn't enchanted or poisoned in any way. It may just be a letter." She seemed fairly unconcerned.
"Professor, I know who sent it!"
"You do? Well who is it then? They must have been fairly powerful to send a ghost raven." She enquired.
"A what?" asked Ron.
"A bird with an expiry date, maybe you would know that if you had paid attention in Transfiguration. You were saying Mr Potter?" She shot a withering look at Ron whose ears had turned bright red.
"What? Oh, yeah. I know who sent the letter, and you're right, he is powerful."
"Who?" urged Ron.
"Lord Voldemort."