Chapter 3
Madam Pomphrey insisted on keeping Harry for the night, he would just have to do Snape's detention another day. He was given a potion for a dreamless sleep, meaning he woke up the next day having just had a full night's untroubled sleep, for the first time in months. He was alright to go for breakfast and was pleased to see Ron and Hermione had saved him a seat at the table.
"Harry! How are you feeling?" Hermione asked as soon as he was seated.
"A lot better, actually. Thanks for sorting me out."
"What d'you reckon was wrong with you?" Ron asked with a mouthful of sausage.
"Nothing was wrong with him, he was ill, it happens to everyone."
"So, you're definitely okay now then?"
"Yep."
Harry couldn't shake the feeling though that something was wrong with him. He was scanning his memory back to yesterday. He remembered the reflection in the mirror, his own face but with gleaming red eyes, but he decided that it must have been the trick of the light or just his imagination. Then he remembered the voice, reciting what Voldemort himself had said to him, in the same cruel, cold voice. He decided to put all of that behind him and blame it on the fact that he was ill.
The day was going past slowly, Harry had been told of by three different teachers for nodding off in lesson. He still felt queasy by the end of the day, but decided to go down to dinner anyway. He, Ron and Hermione were at the bottom of the staircase to the entrance hall when Harry heard a whisper, very close to his ear. It was a teasing, snakelike voice that sent a chill running through him, it only said one thing, "Harry.."
Harry turned, prepared now to catch whatever it was. He instantly regretted turning round, because what he was looking at almost made his heart stop. The other Harry was standing at the top of the staircase, looking down on him. He seemed perfectly real, and looked identical to Harry apart from one feature, those red eyes. He only saw him for a moment because when he blinked, the other Harry was gone. The sight was gone as soon as it came. He felt like ice, and was shaking from head to foot in shock. Was that a real person? Surely not. It seemed more likely that it was a hallucination, a horrible one too. This time he couldn't say it was his imagination, and he couldn't blame it on his illness, because that was nearly gone. He had seen it clear as day, and he couldn't think of an explanation. His mind was so filled with thoughts and shock he had to be shaken back to reality by Ron.
"Harry! Harry!" Ron and Hermione shouted in panic.
"Yeah?"
Harry's voice was barely more than a whisper, his throat and mouth had gone very dry.
"Harry, what's wrong?"
Harry couldn't tell them, and even if he wanted to, saying that he saw another version of himself would make him sound mental, even though he probably was. His stomach felt empty, but he definitely couldn't go for dinner now, he needed answers.
"I - I'm not hungry, I'll see you later," he told them both in a shaky voice, and before they could question him further, he pelted as fast as his shaking legs could carry him up the staircase around the corner. He found himself constantly looking around as he walked back to the common room, his ears strained to hear the voice again, but nothing came. The common room was empty, he sat down on the sofa and began mulling through the events over the last couple of days. His reflection in the mirror hadn't been the trick of the light, he had seen it clearly, just like he had heard those voices, but the thing was, nobody else could see or hear anything. Harry was becoming used to hearing and seeing things that nobody else could, but there had always been an explanation, the voice in his second year had been a basilisk, the Thestrals could only be seen by people who had seen death, those were real things. But this time, maybe it was all happening inside his head. He knew it had something to do with Voldemort. It was the same cold voice he kept hearing, and Voldemort himself had the red eyes he kept seeing on his own body. Had Voldemort somehow planted these hallucinations in him? Was Voldemort getting them as well? Or was it not affecting him, it was just all in Harry's own mind? Running his fingers through his hair in frustration, Harry went through every possible answer until the common room began filling up again. To Harry's annoyance, Hermione and Ron were two of the first people to come in. They went straight over to him and sat down.
"Would you mind explaining to us what that was all about?" Hermione asked sharply.
"I told you, I wasn't hungry."
"Bollocks," Ron said, "you were staring at the same spot for like an hour before you snapped out of it."
"Harry," Hermione began in a much softer voice, "whatever it is, you can tell us."
"It's nothing," Harry said straight away, "I'm just tired and don't feel great, so I'm a bit all over the place."
"You don't say."
"Look, Harry, I think you need some rest."
That was about the only helpful thing Hermione had said all day.
"Yeah, okay."
"I'll be up in a bit Harry, I'm knackered myself," Ron said, yawning.
Harry got dressed and ready in the empty dormitory as quick as possible, even though it was only 9 o'clock. At least that gave him some peace for a while, as nobody came up to bed until at least 10. But Harry didn't want to sleep, even though he was exhausted, no, he wanted to find out what was happening to him. So, regretfully, he thought back to everything that had happened in the third task, in the graveyard and everything afterwards, trying to find an answer. Nothing. After about an hour, and beginning to feel as though he wanted to rip his hair out, Harry faked being asleep and Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville came up to bed.
"Why's he asleep so early?" Seamus asked loudly when the four of them entered.
"Keep your voice down you idiot, he didn't feel very well," Ron whispered.
"He don't look it, neither."
The four boys tried to get ready quietly, which Harry appreciated, but he could hear Neville snoring before he had even drifted off. Getting sick of trying to find an answer, Harry's heavy eyelids began to close...