XII. I'm Doing a Very Bad Job of Not Getting Detention

We are actually the stupidest people on Earth.

So, we're walking up to the Astronomy Tower. We see Draco get detention. Have a good silent laugh about it. We reach the top and take off the Invisibility Cloak. We meet some pretty cool 18-year-olds and get rid of an illegal dragon that (rightfully) bit Ron… everything's good, right?

Wrong. Nothing is good.

Do you know what we did after all of that hard work? After all of our skillfully crafted illegal activity?

We. Didn't. Put. The. Invisibility. Cloak. Back. On.

Nope, we just skipped off into the sunset, leaving our one line of defense against Filch and his demon cat on the Astronomy Tower.

No offense to us or anything, but we're absolute idiots.

I'm kidding. Full offense.

Oh, and do you want to know what makes this whole situation even worse? No, you don't. But I'm going to tell you anyway.

Neville's here, too! He overheard Draco say he was going to catch us for carrying a dragon and decided to come warn us. We deserved to be punished for our carelessness, but Neville? He was innocent.

But did I feel guilty? No. I was too busy wallowing in self-loathing to feel any other emotion.

And now, we were all in McGonagall's office, getting a lecture about how we shouldn't be out of bed at night when it really should've been about how ridiculously idiotic we are.

"I'm absolutely disgusted," McGonagall scolded, her words hissing like fire. It was the angriest I had ever seen her. I was staring down at my feet, but I could still see Draco smirking out of the corner of my eye, reveling in our suffering. "Four Gryffindor students out of bed in one night! I've never seen such a thing—well, I've suspected such a thing before, but they were much better at concealing their rule-breaking than you!"

We get it, okay? We're failures.

"And I never would've expected this behavior from any of you," McGonagall continued. "You, Mr. Longbottom, there's never an excuse to wander the halls after curfew, even if you believe it to be the right thing to do. Mr. Potter, I thought Gryffindor meant more to you. Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. And you, Miss Silverwood, I thought you valued your education more than this."

I winced at those words. Professor McGonagall was one of the first people to give me her trust, and in one night, I lost it.

"As punishment, fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor."

"Fifty?" the four of us exclaimed.

"Fifty points each." Our eyes widened.

"B-but, Professor, that's two hundred points," I pointed out.

"Are you implying that I can't do basic math, Silverwood?" McGonagall fumed. I shook my head "And in addition to the deduction of points, the five of you will have detention tomorrow night."

"Sorry, Professor," Draco chimed in, "but I must have heard you wrong. You said the five of us, but I believe you meant the four."

"And I believe I already gave you detention."

"But, if we're being reasonable here," Draco began, "shouldn't my detention be lifted? I mean, I was right. I warned you so that you could catch them—I was only trying to help, Professor—"

"You should've helped when you were allowed to be out of bed," McGonagall declared. Regardless of how upset I was, I still enjoyed her sassing Draco. "Back to your dorms!" she ordered. "All of you!"

Hermione cried herself to sleep that night.

The next morning, Gryffindor house woke up to an unpleasant surprise: We had gone from first to last place overnight.

Everyone was denying that the situation was real. "There must be some kind of mistake!" "We couldn't have lost two hundred points!" "Probably something Snape did!"

But soon enough, the word got around that it was Sadie Silverwood, Harry Potter, and some other foolish first years.

Mr. Celebrity Harry Potter wasn't taking this too well. He didn't walk with confidence anymore. He didn't give a friendly wave to passing first years. Instead, he stayed to the side of the corridor where no one could see him. He even kept pushing his bangs in front of his face so that they covered his scar. Harry used to be the popular kid at Hogwarts, but now, he was hated by the entire student body. Welcome to the club, Harry.

Hermione wasn't in good shape, either. She hadn't answered a single question in class since the incident, careful not to draw attention to herself. She had even said that she wanted to crawl into a hole and be forgotten. Hermione had never been popular, but never exactly hated either, and I wished the latter wasn't the one she had to experience. I felt bad for her, but not for Harry. It was almost satisfying to see the beloved Harry Potter get even a miniscule taste of what my life was like.

I didn't know how Neville was doing. I never spoke with him.

Enough about them. Let's talk about me.

I was, in fact, doing comparatively fantastic. Everyone had forgotten I was Voldemort's daughter. I was used to an entire population wanting me dead, so a few students holding a grudge against me was nothing. I would much rather be one of the people that let Slytherin win the House Cup than the girl who's going to murder your families.

Unlike Harry, Hermione, and Neville, I drew plenty of attention to myself. I answered every single question in class—after all, I had to earn my points back somehow. At the rate I was going, it would only take a few days to get all fifty. Maybe then I'd be the least hated out of the four of us, a rare occurrence that happens zero times every two millennia.

But in Transfiguration, I was just like the others: quiet, wishing I could become invisible. I couldn't bear to face McGonagall after losing every ounce of respect she might have had for me. Hermione and I no longer sat at the front of the class. Neither of us were the first to successfully cast a spell, or the quickest to answer a question. Neither of us wanted any attention.

After the incident, Harry, Hermione, and I swore to ourselves that we would never meddle in things that didn't concern us again. We couldn't afford to lose even another half a point. But Harry and I were put to the test the afternoon of our detention, and we just couldn't help ourselves.

We were walking back from the library when we passed a usually empty classroom, but it wasn't empty this time. The door was closed, and we could hear crying from inside.

"No—no—not again, please…" It was Quirrell, and there was only one person he could've been talking to: Snape. Harry motioned for me to to come closer to the door, but I shook my head.

"We promised we'd stay out of trouble," I reminded him in a whisper.

"But this could be important!" he whispered back, his eyes wide with urgency.

The curiosity was eating at me until I couldn't take it any longer. I had to know more. With a reluctant sigh, I stepped closer to the door and put my ear up to the cold marble.

"B-b-but… I-I can't…" Quirrell continued. "All right… okay…"

Harry and I exchanged a worried glance. Quirrell had finally cracked.

For fear of being caught if we stayed any longer, we hurried back to the library to tell Hermione and Ron the news.

"So what are we going to do?" Ron asked. "Snape's probably figured out how to get past Fluffy on his own…"

"We have to go to Dumbledore," Hermione said.

"But we have no proof!" I argued. "Besides, we're not supposed to know about the Stone."

"And Dumbledore knows we hate Snape," Harry added. "He'll think we made it up to get him sacked."

Ron looked disappointed. "But if we just do some poking around—"

"We've done enough poking around," Harry declared. "We can't afford another detention."

Detention started at eleven o'clock that evening. Harry, Hermione, Neville, Draco, and I met in the Great Hall, our heads hung in shame. Filch led the five of us outside into the dark night.

I found myself wishing I was curled up in bed in the Gryffindor dorm, falling asleep next to the wind. Although I had slept till two that day, I had trouble keeping myself awake. Wind blew the nighttime cold in our faces, and the only thing we could see was Filch's lantern and the little area covered by its dim light. I would've much rather done this inside.

"I bet you'll think twice about breaking another rule after this, eh?" he jeered. "Hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me. Shame they let the old punishments die, I miss the screams… Still have the chains in my office if the opportunity should arise…" I prayed Filch wouldn't be leading our detention.

We finally came to a stop. A lantern shone, and I was delighted to see who the owner was.

"That you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started." It was Hagrid, Fang beside him.

I let out a sigh of relief. Detention with Hagrid could actually be fun. And he would have to be understanding of our rule breaking, since it was his fault we were here in the first place.

Filch must have seen the joy on our faces. "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself, eh? Well, think again, because it's into the forest you're going!"

"Wait," I said. "We went to a place that was off-limits, so our punishment is… going to a place that's off-limits?"

"You say that like it's a good thing," Draco said tremulously. "There's a reason it's called the Forbidden Forest! There's werewolves in there…" He shuddered. "And Acromantulas…"

"Well, you should've thought of werewolves and Acromantulas before you went and snuck out of bed," Filch replied. "Now, off you go!"

As we followed Hagrid and Fang towards the deep woods, excitement replaced all of my fears. Ever since Dumbledore said the Forbidden Forest was, well, forbidden, it was the one place I wanted to explore. Now, we were being forced to visit the forest, and Filch considered it a punishment. I, on the other hand, considered it an adventure.

But, as always, Draco's existence ruined everything.

"I'm not going in that forest," he declared, refusing to take another step further.

Hagrid shot him an incredulous glance. "Yeh will if yeh want ter stay at Hogwarts."

"Or are you too scared?" I mocked.

"W-what? I'm—I'm not scared!" Draco defended, which was code for "I'm terrified but I don't want to admit it."

Draco regained his composure. "Besides, this is servant stuff," he whined. "Not something for school students to do."

"We get it," I said, annoyed. "You're an entitled rich kid who can't stand to be anywhere without a house-elf."

Draco sighed. "We grew up in the same house, Sadie. We're the exact same amount of rich."

"I wear it better."

Draco and I continued arguing until we reached the entrance of the Forbidden Forest and Hagrid began to speak.

"See tha' silvery stuff on the ground?" he asked "Unicorn blood. There's a unicorn that's bin hurt badly by summat. Second time in a week. An' I found one dead last Wednesday."

I was pleased to see Draco shudder at this news.

"Now," Hagrid continued. "The five o' you are gonna help me an' Fang find whatever's bin hurting the unicorns."

"But Hagrid," Draco protested, "what if it finds us first?"

"Nothin's gonna hurt yeh as long as yer with me," Hagrid assured. "Now, let's split in ter two groups. There's seven of us, so it'll be uneven…"

"Can't you count?" Draco said. "There's six, not seven. Unless you're counting your dog."

"Me dog's got a name, yeh know," Hagrid replied. "Fang. An' yes, I'm countin' him." He pointed to Draco and me. "Now, how 'bout we separate you two…"

"Thank god," I muttered. "I can't stand being with him another minute—"

"We could tell," Hagrid said through gritted teeth.

He sorted us into groups: Draco and Neville with Fang, and me, Harry, and Hermione with Hagrid. The former took the left path while we took the right.

My excitement began to dissipate as we ventured into the eerie forest. The trees slowly began to look like faces, and I constantly felt as if I was being watched. The only thing making me feel safe was the others' breathing.

After a few minutes, that same nervous feeling I had about Snape's detention began to settle in: Something wasn't right. I remembered what Hagrid said about how nothing would try to hurt us, but it didn't help me relax.

Hagrid yelling at us to get behind a tree didn't help.

He drew his bow and arrow, muttering to himself. "There's summat in here that shouldn't be…" He motioned for us to follow him, and we slowly creeped through the thick brush of trees, careful not to make a sound.

In the midst of the silence, I heard something—or someone—speaking to me.

"Come," a shrill male voice hissed in the back of my mind. "Come to me." I brushed it off as a figment of my imagination.

"Do you guys hear anything?" I whispered as casually as possible.

"No," Harry said. "Do you?"

"No, just wondering," I replied, telling myself that there was no voice at all. It was just the wind.

Then, I felt my Dark Mark burn.

"Ow!" I exclaimed, clutching my left forearm.

"Everythin' okay, Sadie?" Hagrid worried.

"I'm fine, thanks," I said, shaking my arm to get rid of the pain.

"Last time you said you were fine, you had a week-long panic attack," Hermione reminded. "Why won't you just talk to us?"

I considered telling them about the voices, but I didn't want to scare them. Besides, I didn't need another person knowing I have the Mark. "This time, I'm fine," I assured them, only to earn more suspicious looks. "I promise."

At that moment, we heard something rustle in the grass. And it wasn't the wind. We froze, and Hagrid raised his bow.

"Show yerself!" he shouted. "I'm armed!"

We heard footsteps drawing nearer. Gradually, the figure came into view: a centaur with glistening red hair and a chestnut body. Harry and Hermione stared in awe, as if this was new to them.

"What's wrong?" I asked them.

"Is that—is that a centaur?" Hermione said, fascinated.

"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly before realizing that neither of them had grown up with exposure to magic. "Wait, do they not have centaurs in the Muggle world?"

"Of course not," Harry said.

"You have horses, though, right? And unicorns?"

"Horses, but not unicorns."

"Yeah, I stopped believing in unicorns when I was nine," Hermione shrugged.

"Nine?" Harry questioned.

"I know, I know, my brother made fun of me too," she admitted. "But I wasn't wrong, apparently."

"So you guys never had a pet unicorn?" I asked, unable to grasp the fact that Muggles didn't think unicorns were real.

"Did you?" Harry inquired, his brow creased.

"Yeah. Glimmer. The Malfoys made me give her away when they found out, though."

"You named her Glimmer?"

I crossed my arms and turned away from them. "I was six, okay?"

Hagrid interrupted our conversation. "Ronan, this is Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, an' Sadie Silverwood. Students up at the school. This is Ronan, you three."

"Do you learn much at this school of yours?" Ronan asked.

"A bit," Hermione said nervously.

"A bit? Well that's something," he said. "Mars is bright tonight."

"That's nice, Ronan," Hagrid said. "Listen, summat's out hurtin' the unicorns, so I was wonderin' if yeh've seen anythin'."

Ronan stared back for a long while before answering. "Always the innocent are the first victims."

Hagrid seemed to be getting impatient. "Yeah, but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan?"

"Mars is unusually bright tonight," the centaur repeated.

"Yeah, but I was thinkin' a bit… closer to home, maybe?"

Ronan once again took a while to answer. "The forest hides many secrets."

Then, another centaur appeared, this one with black hair.

"Oh, hullo, Bane!" Hagrid greeted. "Seen anythin' unusual lately? A unicorn's bin hurt."

"Mars is unusually bright tonight," Bane said as if he were in a trance.

"So we've heard," Hagrid muttered. "Well, we better be off. If yeh see anythin', on Earth, mind, lemme know."

And with that, we fell silent as we once again followed Hagrid down the path.

Then, that mysterious voice came back again.

"Come to me, my child," it said, making the Mark on my arm sting again. It wasn't the wind this time. I looked around for the source of the voice, but to no avail.

"Look, Hagrid!" Hermione suddenly cried, pointing in the direction of a red light. "Red sparks! They're in trouble!"

"Stay here," Hagrid said, and he left to go find Neville and Draco.

Meanwhile, Harry, Hermione, and I only spoke in silent glances, for fear that whatever came after the others might come after us. What if it was the source of the voice?

The voice seemed to be losing its patience. "Come, my child, now," it ordered with agitation. "Or suffer the consequences." A cry threatened to escape my lips as more pain shot up my left arm. I had to turn away from Harry and Hermione so they wouldn't see the pained expression on my face.

Soon enough, Hagrid came back, dragging Draco by the collar. Neville and Fang followed close behind. Apparently, Draco had snuck up behind Neville to scare him, so the latter panicked and shot up red sparks.

"'Fraid we're gonna hafta change groups, here," Hagrid declared. "Neville, Harry, why don' the two of yeh swap? There we go." He gave Harry an apologetic look before we continued on our journey.

The voice was getting more and more persistent. It repeated various versions of "come" in my head, over and over, nearly driving me mad. The pain in my arm grew stronger, and there was nothing I could do but blink back tears and pretend like everything was okay.

"You're a very talented young witch," it suddenly said, and the pain in my arm stopped all at once. It had switched tactics: threatening to flattery. "You could be so… useful. It's a shame you won't cooperate." It let out a breathy, yet maniacal, laugh, making every hair on the back of my neck stand up.

"What do you want from me?" I thought, trying to communicate with it.

"Join me," it answered simply. "I'd like to speak to you in person, Sadina." It took everything I had not to scream at the use of my full name. Voldemort may have killed a lot of innocent people, but the number one reason I hate him is because of the wretched name he gave me. Luckily, I legally got it shortened to Sadie, a much better one. Of course, Rita Skeeter wrote an article about how my name-changing was just the beginning of my psychopathic tendencies, but thankfully, everyone's known me as "Sadie" since.

Should I have told the others I was hearing voices? Looking back on it… well, yes, of course I should've. But at the time, I didn't want to scare them. They have more important things to worry about than me.

Suddenly, a scream pierced through the still air. Suddenly, Draco and Fang came running up the hill.

"Found… the… dead… unicorn," Draco explained. He paused to catch his breath before elaborating. "Someone was there—probably the person who killed it—and they were trying to drink its blood…"

"Drink its blood?" Hagrid exclaimed. "Gallopin' gorgons, where's Harry…"

"He's still back there," Draco said.

Hagrid looked like he was holding back sixty different curse words. He took a deep breath and continued questioning Draco.

"Don't ignore me," the disembodied voice commanded, but then immediately returned to its sweet, manipulative tone. "Why don't you leave? They're not paying attention to you. Just leave the path. I'll find you. We can talk."

I considered it for a moment. The voice had already threatened me, and I didn't want to "suffer the consequences." But then again, I wanted even less to have a chat with it. I didn't know who it was, let alone why it wanted to talk to me in the first place. I had to find a way out of this.

"Well, um, I'm kind of in detention right now." I responded, which was a pathetic excuse. "So, maybe not. I mean, I don't want to get in trouble or anything…"

"Don't worry about that," it snapped.

The same curious feeling from earlier had overtaken me. "You could at least tell me who you are."

"You'll see."

"If you won't tell me who you are, I'm not going to wander off and talk to you," I retorted, hoping I wouldn't regret it.

"Fine," the voice snarled. "Then say you'll join me. Now. Or I'll be forced to do something you won't like."

"Get out of my head," I impulsively commanded.

"So that's a no, then?" it said. "Pity."

The pain in my arm returned, but this time, I couldn't hide it. It was far worse than it had been the whole night. Hagrid, Hermione, Neville, and even Draco crowded around me, all voicing their concern ("Are you okay?" "What's wrong?" "What happened to her, Hagrid?"), but my shrieks drowned them out. I fell to my knees, clutching my left arm to try and ease the pain, but the agony had already spread throughout my body.

"Is it the thing?" Draco asked, to which I nodded. Even he didn't share my secret. I liked to think he was being respectful, but he probably just liked having the blackmail. Although, for the first time in a long time, he seemed genuinely concerned about me.

"What thing?" Hermione inquired.

"None of your business, Granger."

The pain circulated in my head, and I could feel myself letting go…

"Make it stop, please," I begged the voice in my mind. "I'll do anything, just don't kill me, please—"

"You should've listened while you had the chance, foolish girl," it mocked.

My eyes rolled into the back of my head, and everything faded to black.

Light flooded into my eyes. Everything in front of me was blurry, but after a few blinks, I made out Dumbledore's face above me, sighing in relief. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid were to the other side of me I found I was lying on a bed of some sort, and other beds surrounded me. Shelves of various potions and pills lined the wall opposite. I was in the Hospital Wing. Alive.

"Thank Merlin that worked," Dumbledore muttered to himself, kneeling by my bed. "I don't know what I would've done if it hadn't…" Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid rushed over to me, overjoyed.

I sat up. "Thank Merlin what worked?" Just leaning forward made my skull pound and my vision double.

"Lie back down, you need to relax," Dumbledore said. I did so as I groaned in pain at my agonizing headache, holding my hand to my forehead as if that would make it stop.

"Yeah, Sadie," Harry chimed in. "Headaches are my thing." I forced a laugh as I lay back down, allowing my eyes to refocus. Madam Pomfrey brought me a glass of water and some pills that fixed my headache instantly.

"But I do suppose you deserve an explanation," Dumbledore said. "What's the last thing you remember?"

It took a few seconds to get my mind functioning again. But eventually, all the memories flooded back: detention in the Forbidden Forest, the dying unicorns, the voice, and the pain.

"Screaming a lot and blacking out," I answered.

"Good," Dumbledore said. "Then this won't take long at all. Of course, Hagrid brought you here to the hospital wing first thing, and then proceeded to my office to explain everything to me."

"Why weren't you asleep?"

"I'm a busy man, Miss Silverwood," Dumbledore explained. "Sleep simply doesn't fit into my schedule. Anyways, when I came here, Madam Pomfrey was trying to use Rennervate on you—a spell for awaking the unconscious—but it wouldn't work. We found you weren't breathing, and nearly pronounced you dead." He paused to let me take all of this in.

I stared blankly. "I wasn't breathing?"

"Indeed."

"It was terrifying," Hermione said.

Dumbledore took a deep breath. "But, thankfully, your heart was still beating, so I decided you must have been forced into a Bewitched Sleep."

Harry furrowed his brow. "A what?".

"It's a state where one can sleep forever until the curse is broken, never dying."

"So like Sleeping Beauty?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly," Dumbledore said, and I nodded as if I knew what they were talking about. "Naturally, I tried the countercurse, and it worked."

There was a long silence before I finally broke it. "Why would I be in a Bewitched Sleep?"

"I don't know," Dumbledore admitted. "It was as if someone had tried to kill you, but was too weak to carry out the task."

Dumbledore had to be right. After all, the voice had threatened me with death. Was I so amazing that I couldn't die?

"That's so cool," I marvelled.

"Cool?" Hermione nearly shouted. "I thought I'd lost my best friend for good, and you're going to tell me that's cool?"

"Yeah," I said, causing Hermione to put her head in her hands. "I mean, someone failed to kill me. Doesn't that make me pretty awesome?"

"I expected no other response from you," Dumbledore chuckled. "Might I talk to you alone, Miss Silverwood?"

"I guess."

The other four left and Dumbledore drew the curtains around my bed. "Miss Granger said you were holding your left arm during the incident. Is that so?"

I did that L trick with my hands. "Yeah, why?"

He paused. "Do you happen to have the Dark Mark?"

The question caught me off guard. "Sorry, what?"

"I asked if you had the Dark Mark," he repeated.

I was still reluctant to answer. "Why do you ask?"

"Because if you do, then I fear Voldemort may have played some part in this," Dumbledore explained.

"But Voldemort's dead."

"So we think," Dumbledore said simply. But Voldemort couldn't be alive, could he? I shook the thought away.

"Yes, I have it," I finally admitted. "I didn't want it, though, and I cover it up—"

"You don't have to prove yourself, Miss Silverwood," Dumbledore assured, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Since he was only around until you were one, I doubt you had much say in the matter. And, was the Mark the 'thing' Mr. Malfoy was referring to?"

I nodded.

Madam Pomfrey popped her head in. "Professor, it's quite late, and she needs rest. Maybe you could talk to her tomorrow?"

"I'm headmaster. I'll talk to her whenever I want."

Madam Pomfrey simply sighed and left.

"Narcisista," I muttered.

"You know, saying words in Spanish that are almost identical to their English equivalents tends to defeat the purpose." I rolled my eyes at his comment. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes, me interrogating you. So, Miss Granger and Mr. Potter also said you were hearing things. Or, more accurately, asked if anyone heard anything then denied hearing anything yourself. Apparently, you have quite the tendency of keeping to yourself when something's wrong."

I shrugged. "I don't like to worry people."

"Well, if what they suspect is true, then I'm completely okay with being worried."

Should I tell Dumbledore? I needed to talk to someone. But what if whoever the voice belonged to wanted me to keep it a secret? What if they'd come and stab me in my sleep if I told Dumbledore?

"No," I said flatly.

"You didn't hear anything?"

"I'm not telling you whether or not I heard voices," I clarified. "So, a 'no' to your request."

"I never specified 'voices,'" Dumbledore said.

"I'm still not answering your question," I declared.

"You know, I could give you detention for that."

"Another detention?"

"Yes."

"I literally just almost died, Professor," I replied. "Cut me some slack."

Dumbledore sighed. "You're going to use that as an excuse for everything now, aren't you?"

I grinned. "Precisely."

"Well, I see your near-death experience hasn't rid you of your sarcasm," he said. "Fine, then, I'll leave you to rest, and perhaps, think. Goodnight." With that, he exited through the curtains.

Could the voice have belonged to Voldemort?

"Come to me, my child," it had said. Did he mean "my child" as in "my daughter"?

No, no, no. It couldn't have been him. He's dead. He's gone. That voice was probably just Harry trying to freak me out. Everything's good.

But the voice did use my birth name…

And who else would want some random eleven-year-old girl to join them other than her father?

I continued arguing with myself until Harry, Ron, and Hermione came rushing through the curtains.

Harry put the celebrations to a halt. "I figured out Snape's plan."

"Do tell," I said.

"Snape wants the Stone for Voldemort—"

"Don't say the name!" Ron exclaimed.

"Sorry. Anyway, Vol—You-Know-Who is waiting in the forest…"

"He's waiting in the forest?" I repeated.

"Yeah. And once Snape steals the Stone, he's going to use it to bring Voldemort back to life!" Harry exclaimed. "It was Voldemort who was drinking that unicorn's blood…"

Harry continued on, but I wasn't listening. I had my own problems to deal with.

There was no doubting it now: that voice did belong to Voldemort. It was Voldemort who had tried to kill me.

And he almost succeeded.