Harry sat motionless at the long table. No matter how hard he tried, he didn't feel like eating at all.
The beef and roast parsnips on his plate looked so delicious, but nothing could stop his stomach churning.
'Oh, for God's sake, cheer up mate!' muffled Ron, as bits of greasy chicken flew in Harry's direction. Harry subtly wiped off a bit of spittle.
'Ron, can you at least wait until you've swallowed,' sighed Hermione, rolling her eyes, 'It's highly disgusting!'
Harry tried to force a smile but only half succeeded.
'I'm used to it,' he said, feeling his mouth slightly twitch. Even attempting a small sentence seemed to drain him of energy. Reluctantly picking up his fork, he decided to keep quiet and look preoccupied with his food. Thankfully ignorant as ever, Ron just shrugged and carried on stuffing his face.
The Great Hall was full of bright eyed and reenergised students ready for the new school year. The first years, with their either nervous or excited faces, sat in protective huddles on each of the four house tables. Some of the more mature students were wandering the hall, occasionally sitting and chatting with other house members about the most recent Quidditch game or the best products to buy at the newly famous 'Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' joke shop. Two babbling third year boys were discussing the weekend game.
'Did you see the way he just flew right into that blasted bludger!'
'Yeah, almost as bad as James Green's mistake back in the day!'
Harry saw Ron's ears prick up at the corner of his eye, but this seemed to not delay his munching.
'Completely mad if you ask me,' continued one of the boys, 'They should have sacked him in 1999 after that incident with the Tornadoes!'
'If you're talking about Birch, ya' better keep your bloody mouths shut!' Ron was now waving a drumstick in their direction, the chicken skin flapping all over the place. They looked across the table, looking startled. After sniggering with crooked grins, they left for the Hufflepuff table to continue their chat.
Ron put down his bird leg and shamelessly wiped the excess oil on his robes. 'Stupid gits. If you're gonna' talk Quidditch, talk some bloody sense. Birch was set up for that bludger, right Harry?'
Harry snapped his eyes up at the mention of his name. 'Yeah, he's captain for a reason. Completely agree.'
As Ron nodded in concordance and pride while tying a clean napkin around his neck for dessert, Harry continued to play with his cutlery, pleased that he dodged any unwanted questions. However, he could not help but feel Hermione's troubled, protective stare at his downturned head. Unfortunately, she didn't miss anything.
Ron's snores were resonating through the room. The moon was bright and waning through the window and Harry sat on his four-poster bed re-reading the same letter that was handed to him in passing that same evening by Professor McGonagall before entering the hall. It was strange, but the more he read the obviously quickly rushed note, the more his fears intensified.
Harry,
I apologise deeply for this crudely delivered letter, but this was the only safe way to get this information to you. Learning from the errors my past mistakes, I believe you have the right to know.
Of course, Voldemort is building an army of wizards and known magical beings. We all know this. This is the least of my worries.
He is making something dangerous… virtually indestructible… something that will do his bidding and will kill anyone in its path. The path, I suspect, is to you.
The only thing I know is that famous and powerful witches and wizards have been found completely drained of their blood. It has not been mentioned in The Daily Prophet, unsurprisingly.
Hogwarts, The Order and many trained Aurors will be here to protect the school. I will do everything in my power to keep you and my other students from harm.
Harry's heart was pounding, even though he had read this note a dozen times before the feast. Something dangerous… virtually indestructible… drained of their blood… Harry could feel the fear emanating from the letter. He read on.
I have one order for you. It is not a request. You must stay inside the castle at all times! The grounds are not safe.
I know you probably aren't very fond of me at the moment for this, but you must do as I say. I cannot emphasise this enough.
Burn this note tonight.
Albus Dumbledore
Harry read the thickly underlined command over and over until he couldn't take the sinking feeling he was experiencing. He scrunched up the parchment in his hand, suppressing his anger. How could he stay indoors all year? How could he not go to Hogsmead or sit by the lake with his friends? Were the grounds really that unsafe?
He picked up his wand from his bedside table and pointed it at Dumbledore's note.
'Lacarnum Inflamari,' he whispered under his breath. A small flame ignited the parchment. Leaving little smoke, it transformed elegantly into flying ash. For a split second, Harry felt relaxed by the mesmerising dance of the cinders.
A loud snort from across the room woke Harry up from his daze. Ron smacked his lips then carried on snoring. Harry couldn't help but smile fondly at his snoozing friend. He laid his head back into his feathery pillow, closed his eyes and attempted to clear his mind, but he couldn't eliminate the thought of what really scared him the most…
When has Dumbledore ever sounded this scared?