Chapter Four

The Strange Attack

The next week was quite uneventful to Harry, even though Hermione had arrived. Since Hermione was searching for possible job ideas ("Well, we can't all just live on our parent's money, can we?"), she spent a lot of time looking at all the shops around Diagon Alley, especially in the bookstore Flourish and Blotts. She also expressed interest in a Ministry of Magic job, but didn't get her hopes up too high.

"After all, it's supposedly very difficult to get in," Hermione said. "You need to be a pure-blood, I think." She made a face at that. "You also need to be very clever, and be very wise in magical matters--"

"I don't think you need to worry, Hermione," Harry said with a grin. "You were one of the top students at Hogwarts."

Hermione was quite pleased about Harry's statement. She turned rather red in the face (though she grinned widely just the same) and began stuttering, "Er--how about we go into Flourish and Blotts one more time--I think I might be able to look up something there--"

Harry shrugged and followed her into the bookshop.

Ron, too, had not said how he, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny were going to get there-"Probably by Floo Powder, though," Hermione said after she had gotten over Harry's compliment--but he did say that they were going to get there by the last two weeks of August.

On the Saturday of the second-to-last week of August, Harry and Hermione were back among the shops at Diagon Alley. The blustery winds from the weeks before had died down completely, and it was a very hot day. After slogging through the cobblestone streets for only half an hour, Hermione finally said, "Let's go sit down somewhere, we need to rest."

"Good idea," Harry panted.

They had sat down in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor to rest and eat a bit of ice cream when they heard a voice floating out toward them.

"Harry! Hermione!"

Both of them looked up. Ron Weasley was running toward them, grinning from ear to ear. He was still tall and long-legged, and his flaming-red hair stood out among the summer crowd. Harry grinned and waved at him. Hermione, smiling too, pulled out another chair so that Ron could flop down beside them.

"Finally!" he gasped, pushing his red hair out of his eyes. "We used Floo Powder to get here-"

"I thought so," Harry said.

"-and we ended up way at the other end of Diagon Alley. We were looking for you for about an hour, and we looked everywhere, we must've been around Diagon Alley twice...but I finally suggested we stop here so that we could eat some sundaes to cool us down, and I saw you and Hermione come out of the Apothecary and head over here, and I tried to get to you. But there's a lot of people here, so it took nearly ten minutes to get out of the crowd..."

"Where's your mum and Ginny?" Hermione asked, scanning the flock of people in front of them.

"What?" Ron said, suddenly realizing he had left his family behind. "Oh no-"

Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny pushed their way out of the crowd just then. As usual, when Ginny spotted Harry, she blushed furiously. "H- hello, Harry," Ginny mumbled, not quite looking at him.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry replied, grinning. "How were your summer holidays?"

"Er...fine..." Ginny blushed even more, if that was possible.

"Harry! Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley's face broke into a huge smile. She hugged Hermione twice and Harry too, and she kissed them both once on the cheek. Harry felt himself go rather red with embarrassment, but was pleased all the same.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, grinning at her.

"Hello, Hermione, dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "It's been such a long time since I've seen you all...oh look at you, you look so much older..." She beamed at Harry and Hermione. "Seems like only yesterday you were asking me how to get onto Platform Nine and Three-Quarters," she added to Harry, winking at him.

"It has been a while," he admitted cheerfully. "So you are all going to stay at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yeah," Ron answered, grinning. "Mum and Ginny are staying until September First-have I told you that already?"

"Well," Hermione said, "Shall we all go back to the inn?"

"Oh no, that's all right, dear," Mrs. Weasley said hurriedly. "We've already put all our trunks and everything in our rooms. We're heading off to Gringotts first to get a bit of gold out of our vault. Wouldn't you like to come with us?"

"Sure--it's not like we have anything else to do anyway," Harry said offhandedly. He and Hermione both finished the last of their ice cream and trooped off after Mrs. Weasley.

"So how are Fred and George?" Hermione asked with great interest as they strode through the crowd. She and Harry had argued nearly all the previous week about what Fred and George were doing now, since they had left Hogwarts. They had not heard about Fred and George's exploits ever since they had been on their own.

"Oh, the usual," Mrs. Weasley said, arranging her face into a grimace. "Hiding gnomes in our shoes, leaving their old fake wands around, putting trick sweets in our food-they just never seem to want to stop. Like I always said before, it's not as though they haven't got brains, they just don't want to use them for the right things. I would have thought that they would act a bit more mature since they left Hogwarts, but I guess I was wrong."

Harry couldn't think of any answer to this, as Fred and George-even when they were playing pranks on everyone else-were extremely funny and always managed to make Harry feel better when he was upset. So Harry coughed uncomfortably as a reply.

"We're here!" Ginny said, looking up.

Harry looked up too. Towering in front of them was a huge, snow-white building. GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK was engraved across its top. A goblin, wearing a scarlet uniform, waved them through the massive gates.

"I need to get some money out too," Hermione said, checking her purse. "I'm nearly out..."

"Well then, we'll take one cart to our vault, and you three can take one to yours," Mrs. Weasley said, fishing in her pockets for the key to the Weasley vault. "Here it is!"

A moment later, Mrs. Weasley had shown the key to a Gringotts goblin, who had summoned two carts each for the Weasleys and for Harry and Hermione.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione got into the same cart, while Ginny and Mrs. Weasley got into the other, and away they went.

"So how is your dad?" Harry said to Ron as they rattled down the track. Ron grinned widely.

"Oh the usual," Ron said. "His plug and battery collection is growing quite large. We're falling flat on our faces because he keeps his batteries lying on the floor for us to trip on."

"He still collects plugs?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

"Are you kidding? He's got more plugs than I have got wizard cards." This was saying something, as Ron had several hundred wizard cards left over from Chocolate Frogs. Both Harry and Hermione shook their heads, amused.

The cart screeched to stop. "Here it is," Hermione said, running over to her vault. "You wait out here...I'll get my money..."

"How about Percy?" Harry said as Hermione went into the vault. "How's he doing?"

Ron made a face. "He's gone barmy, I tell you. He won't stop working. No matter how much Mum begs him to. He even tried to eat dinner up in his room so he could work at the same time, but Mum and Dad threw a fit, so he had to eat with us. He doesn't like it though, just stuffs the whole lot of food down as fast as he can. He's taking his job a bit too seriously if you ask me."

"And Pigwidgeon? Still driving you crazy?"

"More than you can imagine," Ron said with a sigh. "He keeps zooming around his cage and hooting. He banged into the walls of that cage a couple times, actually. Mum got mad at me for that--said that we can't afford to lose Pig, because Errol is too old to deliver anymore. She said I give Pig too many Owl Treats. But Owl Treats are the only thing that'll shut him up. I'm at a loss, Harry."

"Me too, come to think of it."

"Well--enough about me, what did you and Hermione do before I came?"

Harry shrugged. "Not much. We mostly just hung out in Diagon Alley. Hermione reckons that she could take a job with Flourish and Blotts, or maybe a Ministry job...but she's not sure...do you have to be a pure-blood to be in the Ministry of Magic?"

Ron shook his head. "They lifted that rule a few months ago. But Hemrione still might have difficulty, because even though that requirement was lifted, no Muggle-born wizards or witches have gone in to work for the Ministry yet. It's still dominated by pure-bloods."

"Yeah...she was a bit worried about that," Harry said. "But I told her that she was certainly clever enough."

"Good thinking," Ron said approvingly. "You know how much Hermione likes compliments."

Harry grinned, just as Hermione came out of her vault, clutching a leather bag full of gold. "Okay--I'm done!"

They clambered back into the cart and rushed off again.

"Harry told me you're looking to get a Ministry job," Ron shouted to Hermione over the sound of the cart wheels rattling.

"Yeah, I am," Hermione shouted back. "Though I don't know--Ron, do you have to be a pure-blood to get in?"

"Not anymore!" Ron replied. "But no Muggle-born wizards have gone in yet--hey, Hermione, if you get in now, maybe you could set a record or something!"

"Oh please," Hermione scoffed.

"Though Percy wouldn't like that, actually-he disapproves of too much attention."

"You wouldn't know, would you?" Harry yelled as the Gringotts cart emitted a particularly loud rattle (they had rolled over a rather rough part of the track). "Remember when he became Head Boy?"

Ron grinned. "Who could forget--ow! Hey!"

The cart slammed to a stop at the end of the tracks, pitching all three of them forward. "I can never get used to that," Ron said, shaking his head.

They got out rather unsteadily. Harry was straightening his glasses (which had nearly fallen off when the cart stopped) when he saw Mrs. Weasley and Ginny heading toward them. He saw at once that their money bag looked a lot lighter than Hermione's did (the Weasleys were notoriously poor). He tried to look as though he hadn't noticed this.

"Hello, dears," Mrs. Weasley said. "We've got everything we need for now--Ginny and I are going to Flourish And Blotts--why don't you three go exploring? We won't be long."

"Sounds good to me," Ron said.

"We'll meet back at the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, How's that? Is that all right with you?"

"Yes," chorused Harry and Hermione.

"All right then," Mrs. Weasley said, waving Ginny along. "Come along, Ginny, we've got to get your new robes and books."

With a final wave, both Ginny and Mrs. Weasley had disappeared through the crowd.

"Where do you want to go then?" Ron asked Harry. "Quality Quidditch Supplies?"

"Sure...why not?" Harry said. "How about you, Hermione?"

"It's fine with me."

"And after that," Ron added, "Let's go to Eeylops Owl Emporium. I want to see if I can find anything there that can shut Pig up without Mum getting angry."

"Pigwidgeon still driving you nuts, Ron?" Hermione laughed.

"Ask Harry," Ron said, grimacing. "I'd rather not talk about it."

Still chatting enjoyably, they all headed into Quality Quidditch Supplies. "Oh wow!" Ron breathed, looking with great interest at what looked like a large leather briefcase. "Look, Harry-the Broomstick Servicing Kit Two-made exclusively for Firebolts!" He picked it up, reading off of the cover. " 'This Broomstick Servicing Kit contains: One jar of improved-formula High-Finish Handle Polish (guaranteed to make your Firebolt's handle smooth and shiny as glass), Tail-Twig Clippers (special design to clip your tail-twigs just right-even has a tiny alarm to inform you when you're cutting the twigs too short), a speed meter to tell you how fast you're flying (with attachments so that you can clip it to your broom handle), a compass for long journeys, and an Extended Handbook of Do-It- Yourself Broomcare (with new charms and spells to repair your broomstick). ' " He looked up at Harry. "Wow, Harry, think of how much stuff there is in here!"

"I already have one of those," Harry said. "The one Hermione gave me."

"Oh--right--" Ron looked slightly put out. "Still, though...that one was made exclusively for Firebolts..."

"My Firebolt doesn't need servicing yet, Ron," Harry reminded him, steering him away from the Broomstick Servicing Kit. "Come and look over here, Ron. There's some new Chudley Cannon merchandise." Even though he was eighteen, Ron was still a tremendous fan of the Chudley Cannons, as he always had been since he could say the word Quidditch.

"Wow!" Ron's eyes lit up at the products. "Chudley Cannon player figurines-miniature broomsticks-Chudley Cannons clothes-a new Cannons book, oh wow...Flying With The Cannons, Volume Two-this is awesome, Harry!"

"He's like a little kid in a candy shop," Hermione whispered to Harry as Ron darted here and there, exclaiming at all the Chudley Cannons merchandise.

"Well, he doesn't get to spend that much money, does he?" Harry murmured back. "I expect this is like paradise for him."

Hermione giggled, and Ron finally came back and joined them as they headed out of Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Stuff like that makes me wish I weren't so poor," Ron said halfheartedly as they walked toward Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"You don't need to worry, Ron," Harry said. "Once you're own your own, and earning your own money, you can go and get all the Cannons stuff you want."

"But don't blow all your money on it," Hermione, the ever-sensible one, said.

"Hope you're right, both of you," Ron said. "We're here..."

Harry and Hermione walked around, gazing at all the owls, as Ron made his way toward the counter and began asking the lady behind it about owls. Harry found himself bumping into Hermione a lot, mainly because it was so dark in the shop; also because several times an owl hooted loudly behind him, startling him and making him jump backward.

Finally, Ron strode away from the counter, and they all headed outside, squinting in the bright sunlight.

"The woman said that maybe Mum was right, that Pig might be so noisy because I give him too much Owl Treats. She said lighten it up a bit, not to give him so much, and he should quiet down-but what do I do if Owl Treats are the only thing that can make him calm down?"

Still shaking his head, they picked their way through the crowd back to the Leaky Cauldron. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were already waiting for them outside, still clutching their purchases.

"Hello, Harry dear," Mrs. Weasley said. "Did you have fun?"

"Mostly," Harry said. "Shall we go in and have lunch now, Mrs. Weasley?"

"I suppose we should," she answered, and they went into the Leaky Cauldron.

There was a large lunchtime crowd in there, full of chattering people, and even some younger, little witches and wizards. They were jostled around quite a bit (Ginny stumbled twice and once Harry caught her by the arm, which made her turn quite red), and finally they made it to an empty booth near a corner--but the table looked like it only seated four.

"Oh my," Mrs. Weasley said worriedly. "And there's not a chair to be spared, not one...how about...Harry, you're quite thin, you get in first, and--no, Ginny, don't sit there, wait--all right, I think I can figure this out...Ginny, you're small too, you squeeze in there next to Harry..."

Ginny looked extremely startled and embarrassed. Ron and Hermione both grinned at Harry.

"And Ron, Hermione, you sit there--" Ron and Hermione clambered into their seats-- "and I'll sit with Ginny and Harry, and we should fit," Mrs. Weasley finished.

Much to Harry's surprise, they did fit quite well, except for the fact that Ginny was slightly squashed between him and her mother. "You all right, Ginny?" Harry asked her. She did look rather uncomfortable, though that was probably because she was right next to Harry.

"Fine, thanks," Ginny mumbled.

"Well," Mrs. Weasley said, "There's going to be a long wait before we can get food, because of this crowd. We can manage though, right? Harry, Hermione, you already ate something, right?"

"Yeah."

"And we had a big breakfast...I guess we should be okay. After all, at least we got here--if we'd have gotten in later we would have to skip lunch. I guess we can wait for a while."

They did wait, talking to pass the time (though Ginny didn't say much, no matter how many times Harry tried to get her to talk with the rest of them) until finally, they were able to order.

It was already one-thirty in the afternoon when they dug into a large chocolate pudding, their dessert. Ginny seemed to be feeling a lot better, and even talked to Harry and the others for a while.

"It's going to be strange, going into seventh year," Ginny remarked. "I remember as if it were yesterday my first day ever at Hogwarts...my first year..."

"Who could forget?" Ron said, his mouth full of pudding. "That was the year the basilisk Petrified everyone, remember?"

"I know," Ginny said, shuddering at the memory. "Don't remind me." Mrs. Weasley shot Ron a look that clearly said, "Don't upset your sister."

"Well...you don't need to worry too much, Ginny," Hermione said. "You're one of the lucky ones, after all...now that You-Know-Who is gone, there's really nothing to get too scared about--"

Something stirred in Harry's mind. "Now that You-Know-Who is gone, there's nothing to be scared about." You-Know-Who may have been defeated, but there were still a lot of things to be wary of...the Dark Arts were still around, yes, and evil would always exist, but there was something else--what if, Harry thought, what if Voldemort still, somehow, lived on? Yes, he knew that Voldemort would never rise again, in his physical state that is, but...not all of his Death Eaters had surrendered. Some of them are still out there, wanting revenge for their master, wanting to kill--

"Harry?"

"Huh? What?" Harry was jerked out of his thoughts quite suddenly.

Everyone sitting there at the table was staring at him. "Harry," Hermione said uncertainly, "Harry, are you all right? You seemed lost in thought there."

"What?" Harry said again. "Oh yeah...sorry, I must have been daydreaming or something..."

"It's all right," Mrs. Weasley said. "We're all getting a little sleepy from this food, aren't we?"

"Yep," Ron said, yawning.

Harry wasn't any bit tired, though. He thought about Voldemort, about what he did, to Harry and to other wizards, and what his followers did...

Hermione was discussing the Ministry of Magic with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny when suddenly Harry slammed his spoon down on the table with a clatter. Ron, Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, and Ginny all jumped.

"Harry, what is it?" Ron asked, startled. Ginny and Hermione were both very wide-eyed.

"Sorry," Harry said, taking a deep breath. He turned to Mrs. Weasley. "Mrs. Weasley, I know that it's...difficult...to discuss this, but...what makes us so sure that Vol--that You-Know-Who is gone?"

"Why, Harry--!" Mrs. Weasley said, quite taken aback. "Harry, you saw him disintegrate right in front of you! You and Albus Dumbledore saw him! There's no doubt that he's gone! What made you ask such a question?"

"I don't mean him, literally," Harry said. "I meant...I meant his legacy. What he left behind. We all know that most of his followers surrendered to the Ministry of Magic, don't we? But not all of them let themselves be put in Azkaban! Not all of them have been captured! There could be more, roaming the Earth, free to do evil as their master taught them! What if they're still out there, just waiting for the right time to exact their revenge on us? Just like Voldemort did, when I was still in Hogwarts! They could be waiting to--to kill me, because I helped defeat Voldemort! They--"

"Now, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said desperately, trying to calm Harry down, "There's no way that You-Know-Who's Death Eaters could lay a hand on you. You're very well protected, Dumbledore saw to that. You're surrounded by witches and wizards here--good witches and wizards--and no Death Eater would even try to look at you here, with your wizarding family all around you. There's nothing to worry about, Harry, You-Know-Who is gone and will never come back, I'm sure of it."

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione broke in. "Look, Harry, Mrs. Weasley's right, no one working for You-Know-Who will ever try to hurt you again. Without You-Know-Who to tell them what to do, they're lost, they won't be around for long. Cheer up, Harry, please, it's no good worrying about it..."

Harry frowned, but nodded. "Yeah...maybe...," he muttered. Everyone was staring at him again, this time looking quite concerned. Harry found that he couldn't find enough courage to argue again. "I guess you're right...I've just been...worrying too much..."

"It's all right, Harry," Ron said, still looking concernedly at Harry. "Come on, there's no more food...we'd better get off to our rooms..."

They pushed themselves away from the table, silent now, and proceeded one by one up the stairs to their bedrooms.

Then something happened to Harry the very next day that made him seriously question Mrs. Weasley's and Hermione's opinion.

He had gotten up very early, having found that he couldn't sleep that much. He pulled on his clothes and headed down the stairs, nodding to Tom the innkeeper, who was scrubbing the wooden tables. Narrow rays of weak sunlight poked through the windows and shone across the bar.

Harry went outside and slumped against the wooden post supporting the rickety roof of the Leaky Cauldron. There was no one outside in Diagon Alley except him, mostly because the shops were all closed off. For about ten minutes Harry just stood there, his eyes closed, trying not to think of things like Voldemort or his Death Eaters...

There was a funny prickling on the back of Harry's neck that made him open his eyes. He knew that feeling well--the feeling that he was being watched by something.

He looked all around him, to the left, right, and even looking behind him, to try and see who was watching him...but there was no one in sight.

He shrugged and leaned against the post again, but snapped fully awake again when a strange shiver passed through his whole body. He stepped away from the post, feeling quite frightened by now, as there was absolutely no one else out in the street. "Is there anyone out there?" he called, though he didn't really expect an answer.

Harry wondered if he should retreat back into the Leaky Cauldron. There was definitely something there that shouldn't be...

He took a step back, farther into the shade of the inn, when he heard a strange noise-the sound a cloak made when someone had begun walking very fast...that familiar swishing...

Feeling very nervous now, he reached a shaking hand into his pocket and found...nothing. He felt very nervous now, out without his wand when he might very well be in danger...

What happened next caught Harry completely off guard. There was a swish of something being waved in the air, right next to his face, and before he could move an inch there was a great, searing pain racing from an inch below his temple all the way to the corner of his mouth. He cried out, stumbling back, and heard another swishing noise, coming back for more.

He stumbled again and tripped on the sidewalk, falling on his back. By pure instinct he swung his foot up and out in a violent kick and felt his foot collide with something solid-though he couldn't tell if he had hit the wall or something else. The pain on his face was nearly blinding him, as was the panic and fear racing through him. A fresh wave of horror ran through him as he watched his own blood, coming from his hurt face, spray out and splash onto the cobblestone street in front of him. For a few moments he only stood there, watching the cobblestones nearest him become stained with red...

The swishing sound returned, a lot closer to his face now, bringing Harry out of his numb stupor. Pain and fear returned as he felt a whoosh of air from something very near to him. One thought pierced the pain and shock clouding his mind: It's coming back to kill me.

That was enough for him. With another hoarse, terrified cry Harry got to his feet and staggered into the Leaky Cauldron. He heard more blood from his face falling on the sidewalk before he slammed the door after him. He clapped a hand to his face, gritting his teeth to stop himself from screaming.

Tom the innkeeper was nowhere to be seen, though Harry could hear him shuffling around making morning tea. Gasping with pain, he thought about going to him for help-until he saw his own reflected face in a mirror on the wall opposite him.

Blood flowed freely over his hand, which was still clamped to his cheek. There was a fresh wound running down almost the entire length of his face-from a bit below his right temple to the corner of his mouth. He had no idea how he had gotten the ghastly wound.

That did it. He ran up the stairs, not caring about how much noise he was making, until he burst onto the landing where their rooms were. He struggled over to Hermione's room and banged on it three times, hoping against hope that she was already awake. The pain from his cut was excruciating. He hadn't felt so much pain since he had been at Hogwarts.

She didn't come to the door immediately. With a low moan he crumpled to the floor in front of it, shaking uncontrollably with shock and fear and pain. His breath was coming in short, uneven hisses. Please come to the door, he thought desperately, please...

He heard, as though it were a dream, quick footsteps coming toward him from the other side of the door. There was a soft click, and Hermione, still dressed in her pajamas and a bathrobe, opened the door at last. She clapped a hand over her mouth when she saw Harry huddled there, trembling, blood from his wound running down his face and hand.

"Harry!" she shrieked, dropping to her knees beside him. "Harry-what- how did you-"

"I d-don't know," he gasped. "I just-I just went outside, and there was a noise, but I c-couldn't see anything--and then--and then I heard another noise, like someone swinging something through the air, a-and it cut me across the face-" He felt the blood from the cut slithering down his neck now, leaking from between his fingers. He dared not tighten his hand onto his face for fear that he would feel more pain.

There was a creak and a slam, and more footsteps sounded behind him. "Hermione, what's wrong, I heard you scream and-Harry!"

The footsteps quickened, and someone ran over to Harry and Hermione and skidded to a stop. It was Ron.

"What-what happened? Harry-your face-what-" Ron's voice shook. "How did it-"

Hermione's face was extremely pale and ghostly. "Come on-" she said, taking Harry by the hand, "-get in my room, quick."

Harry felt himself being pulled to his feet and staggered into Hermione's room, falling onto her bed. Ron followed him inside. He heard a hiss, a meow, and a sudden weight on his lap, and dimly heard Hermione's voice. "Get off, Crookshanks!" Meowing indignantly, the cat stepped daintily off his legs, and Harry felt the weight leave. He felt Hermione take off his glasses, which somehow didn't fall off when his face was slashed.

"It doesn't have anything in it, it looks clean enough-" Harry heard Ron say, as though from a great distance. "I'll get some water to flush any dirt out of it-" There was a clink of a glass, the sound of water running, and suddenly something cold streamed down his face, sending a new wave of pain throughout Harry's face. He nearly screamed again.

"Ron! You're not helping!" Hermione cried desperately. "Oh I don't know what to do-I think I'll bandage you up for now," Hermione said, and Harry heard the quiver of fear in her voice. There was a rustle of cloth and the slam of a trunk lid being hastily closed--Hermione had probably retrieved her wand. He heard her mutter something, and a moment later he felt the pressure of a bandage on his face. Bright-red blood bloomed on the surface of it.

"Does that feel any better?" Hermione asked, nearly beside herself with worry and fright.

"Yeah..." Harry mumbled, the constriction of the stiff bandage muffling off his words. The cut on his face didn't feel much better, but Harry couldn't bring himself to make Hermione feel worse than she did now. She looked as shaken as Harry felt.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Ron's voice, cracking with fear, sounded from somewhere to Harry's left. Harry wanted to turn his head, to look at Ron, but knew that to move his head would hurt him even more. Talking was painful too, but Harry had to tell them.

"I...went outside, really early...I couldn't sleep...and I just stood there alone, looking at the shops around me...and I felt like I was being watched, you know? And-and I looked around, but I didn't see anyone..." Harry paused to take a long, shuddering breath.

"Take your time, Harry, don't overdo it," Hermione said, trying to sound calm, but Harry detected a break in her voice. It sounded as though she might burst into tears any moment now. With a jolt he realized that, although he couldn't see it, his hand was still drenched in the blood from his face. He made a move as though to get up and clean it off, but Ron had put a hand on Harry's shoulder without Harry noticing-while Hermione was putting the bandage on his wounded face. Ron pressed him back down onto the bed. Harry took another breath, and continued on.

"...so I ignored it...but then I felt it again, and I looked around, and I heard this noise from behind me...like the sound a cloak makes when you walk...a swishing noise...so I went toward the Leaky Cauldron, about to get inside again, when...

"There was this loud swishing noise, right up near my face, like someone was swinging something through the air at me...then there was this pain going down my face, and...and I saw...I saw blood on the street..."

Both of Hermione's hands were trembling, clamped on her mouth. Ron's hand on his shoulder had gone rigid, his grip on Harry extremely tight.

"I tried to run, but I fell, and I heard that same noise again, coming back, so I...I think I tried to kick whatever had done that, and I think I hit it...I don't remember...all I remember is running into the inn and up the stairs, banging on your door, and falling down..." Harry let his head fall onto his chest.

"Oh Harry," Hermione murmured. "How could-how could this have happened? Who did it?"

Ron's hand had left Harry's shoulder, and he was running it through his hair. "Cuts like that just don't appear on someone's face," Ron muttered. "There's got to be a reason."

"There is a reason," Harry mumbled. He was trying not to move his lips too much, because it hurt to open his mouth.

Hermione was clearly stricken by the attack on Harry. "Just when we thought it was safe to go outside, and this happens," she said quietly, her face pinched. "When will it-"

There was a knock on the door, and everyone except Harry jumped. Harry felt too numb (except for the pain from his face, which was now throbbing hard) to really care. A new thought had entered his mind--he just remembered what he had said only last night-"What if they're still out there, waiting to exact their revenge on us?...They could be waiting to--to kill me, because I helped defeat Voldemort!"

Could it be, that whoever it was had been a Death Eater of Voldemort's inner circle, a Death Eater who had not been captured yet, who was still free to do evil magic...?

"Ron!" Harry croaked, filled with sudden realization. Ron, however, was very pale, and pressed a finger to his lips, signaling Harry to be quiet.

Hermione had leaped off the bed and rushed to the door. She cleared her throat so that she sounded like her normal self. "Er...who is it?" she called.

"Hermione?" It was Mrs. Weasley. Hermione cast one fleeting look at Ron, who was still kneeling on the bed beside Harry, and at Harry, with a huge white bandage covering half his face and one of his hands nearly dripping blood.

"I heard you scream, Hermione, and I saw Ron run into your room...are you all right, dear? Where's Harry?"

"Er...um...I don't know, Mrs. Weasley, I think he may be still asleep..."

"No...he can't be...his door was open, and he wasn't in his room...Is Ron in there?"

"Yes, Mrs. Weasley...we were...er...talking. Something important came up..."

"Is there something wrong, Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley sounded worried.

"Well..." Hermione glanced back at Harry and Ron. "Give me a minute, Mrs. Weasley..."

She hurried back to them. "Should I tell her?" she asked urgently. "She-she might know what to do-"

"I don't know, Hermione...what if she panics?" Ron hissed.

"I've got to tell her!" Hermione said. "She needs to know...we can't keep Harry hidden..."

"Hermione?" Mrs. Weasley said again. "Is there something wrong? Can I come in?"

Hermione looked quickly at Harry. "I'm going to tell her," she murmured. "All right?" Harry nodded feebly.

She ran, almost flew, back to the door. "You...you might want to come in, Mrs. Weasley, and see for yourself," Hermione said, her voice shaking again. She opened the door.

Mrs. Weasley came in-and stopped short at the sight. Her horrified eyes swept over Hermione, who was cowering slightly by the door, over Ron, who was pale and looked like he had seen a ghost, and finally to Harry. She drew in a gasp as she stared at him--at the stained-red bandage over his cheek, at his hand, stained red with the blood, at his hair matted by fresh blood, and the reddish bloodstains Harry had spilled on the carpet.

"Oh, my..." she put her hands on her face. "Oh, Harry-what happened? Who did this to him?" she cried, rounding on Hermione and Ron. Both of them shrunk back at the look on Mrs. Weasley's face.

"What happened?" she shrieked again, almost hysterical. "Oh, Harry...you must be in so much pain..." She rushed over to him and, as gently as possible, lifted the bandage from his face, her eyes widening at the wound. "Who did this to him?" she murmured.

"Harry..." Hermione said softly. "Harry, do you want me to tell her?"

"Yes," Harry managed to say. It was even harder to talk now that Mrs. Weasley was fussing over him.

Hermione and Ron both began to tell Mrs. Weasley what had happened while she continued to fuss over him. She insisted that he lay back on the bed, pulled a dark-blue handkerchief out of her pockets, took the water pitcher from the windowsill and poured a bit of water on the handkerchief, and began dabbing at Harry's face. She cleared the sticky, dried blood from beneath Harry's hair and cleaned off the edges of the wound. At the end of Ron and Hermione's retelling of the events, Mrs. Weasley got up, the now red handkerchief clutched tightly in her hand. Her bottom lip was trembling.

"I'll...I'm going to have to get something to clean it out," Mrs. Weasley said, her own voice quivering now. "Harry, you just stay there for a second, I'll heal it up for you in no time..."

She hurried out of the room.

Ron whirled about to look back at Harry. "Harry!" he said, so urgently that Harry raised his hurting head an inch off the pillow in surprise, "Harry-what were you going to say to me?"

"I think I may have an idea...about who did this..." Harry said. "I know who it may have been."

Both Ron and Hermione were shocked into silence. "What?" both of them said in unison.

"Remember what I said last night?"

Ron and Hermione both screwed up their faces, clearly thinking hard. Then, slowly, comprehension dawned on them.

"Do you mean," Hermione whispered, "That--that may have been a Death Eater?"

"It's possible," Harry said.

"No-no, it's not!" Ron said desperately. "Harry, no Death Eater could have done that to you!"

"Yes, they could," Harry said softly. "Maybe it was a Death Eater who was in great favor with Voldemort...the Death Eater probably owned an Invisibility Cloak, like mine, and had a knife...he probably didn't have a wand, but a knife was good enough...and he ran up to me while he was wearing the Invisibility Cloak, and tried to kill me, but I took a step back and he could only slash my face a little bit...he was probably about to finish me off when I ran back inside...but he didn't follow me..."

Hermione, looking severely shaken by now, opened her mouth to argue, but at that moment Mrs. Weasley returned, bearing a small glass bottle of some purple liquid and her wand.

"I've got to clean it out, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said. She sounded a good deal calmer by now. "This is going to hurt a bit, but it should only last for a minute-just tell me when you're ready."

"I'm ready," Harry said through gritted teeth, wary of more pain.

"All right," Mrs. Weasley said. "Hold on, all right? This is going to sting for just a few seconds, then I'll heal you up. Close your eyes tight just in case it spills over."

Harry shut his eyes and felt a drop of something cold fall onto his cut. Mrs. Weasley was right-it began to sting like crazy. Harry stiffened, trying to fight out the pain.

"It'll be all right, Harry, dear," Mrs. Weasley said from above him. "Just a few more seconds, and it'll be all better. It must hurt like the dickens."

"Dickens," Harry hissed through his teeth. He thought he could hear a faint sizzling noise-was the purple liquid burning his flesh away? - but he also heard a faint rustling sound, as though Mrs. Weasley was looking for something on the bed. A moment later he felt the cold tip of Mrs. Weasley's wand gently touch his skin. He heard her mutter something under her breath…and suddenly there was nothing. No pain, or stinging, nothing at all- it felt exactly the same way as his skin had felt before-before he had gotten attacked by…something he didn't see.

"All right, Harry, it should be all healed up." Mrs. Weasley took Harry by the hand and pulled him to a sitting position. Harry swayed, still not used to having all that pain eliminated in such a short time. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling his cheek gingerly. His fingers stuck to his skin a little and he realized, at the same time Mrs. Weasley did, that his hand was still covered in blood. For a while they both just stared at his hand (now a dark red-brown color from the blood). Then Mrs. Weasley said, in a rather flustered voice, "Well, Harry-we'd better get your hand cleaned up."

"Yeah," Harry said.

"It's a good thing that you know how to mend cuts, Mrs. Weasley," said Hermione. Harry jumped-he'd forgotten that Ron and Hermione were still there in the room with him.

"Well…now that your cut is all taken care of…"Mrs. Weasley said, her eyes full of concern, "I need to hear what happened from you."

Harry told her the whole long story again, a good deal calmer than he had been the first time he had relayed the events.

"But you don't remember anything?" Mrs. Weasley demanded urgently. "Anything else? Wounds like that just don't magically appear on someone's face, even if they are a wizard."

"Harry…tell her…tell her what you said to us before she came back," Hermione whispered.

Mrs. Weasley wheeled on Ron and Hermione. "What? What did he say to you?"

Ron hesitated. "Well…he thought that…" He glanced quickly at both Hermione and Harry. "Well," he said again, "Remember what Harry said yesterday over lunch?"

Mrs. Weasley's mouth tightened. "About You-Know-Who?"

"Yes," Ron said. "He…he reckons that it might've been a former Death Eater, looking for revenge on Harry, who may have attacked him."

"What? That's crazy!" said Mrs. Weasley, rounding back on Harry. "You can't possibly think that, Harry…wouldn't you have been able to see who had attacked you?"

"That-that's the thing," Ron said hesitantly. "Harry thinks-he's had a lot of experience with this sort of thing-that his attacker may have been wearing an Invisibility Cloak. And Harry did say that he could hear something that sounded a lot like someone walking-wearing a cloak…"

Harry nodded. "Yes…now that I think about it, it sounded almost exactly like a person coming very fast toward me. I could-I could even hear the sound-like a knife, swishing through the air-and then it happened…" he touched his face with his other hand, the hand that didn't have blood all over it. He still couldn't believe that Mrs. Weasley had healed that ghastly wound so easily. "But I heard the sounds very clearly."

"Are you sure? Are you sure that it wasn't the wind, or anything else?" Mrs. Weasley asked urgently.

"I'm sure!" Harry said, feeling a bit put out that she hadn't quite believed him. He pushed his hair out of his eyes impatiently and sat up straight. "Look, I know that I heard someone behind me! There was no mistaking it!"

"Harry may be right, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said a bit hesitantly. "Anything's possible in the wizarding world, isn't it?"

Mrs. Weasley sighed. "Maybe you're right, Hermione, but I still don't know…" She looked at Harry with a pained expression on her face. "It just seems that everything happens to you, doesn't it, Harry?"

Harry looked away. For a moment there was uncomfortable silence, hanging thick above the three of them; then, quite suddenly, he stood up.

"I've got to get my hand cleaned off," Harry said, rushing into Hermione's bathroom-trying to outrun the fact that yes, everything did happen to him…things like what had happened to him just an hour ago…

Things happened to him, not to help him, but ultimately, to harm, to kill him. He vowed that he would be more careful from now on-if that would help.