Christmas on the Closed Ward

           WasthiswhyDumbledorewouldnolongermeetHarry’seyes?DidheexpecttoseeVoldemortstaringoutofthem,afraid,perhaps,thattheirvividgreenmightturnsuddenlytoscarlet,withcatlikeslitsforpupils?HarryrememberedhowthesnakelikefaceofVoldemorthadonceforceditselfoutofthebackofProfessorQuirrell’sheadandranhishandoverthebackofhisown,wonderingwhatitwouldfeellikeifVoldemortburstoutofhisskull.

           Hefeltdirty,contaminated,asthoughhewerecarryingsomedeadlygerm,unworthytositontheUndergroundtrainbackfromthehospitalwithinnocent,cleanpeoplewhosemindsandbodieswerefreeofthetaintofVoldemort...hehadnotmerelyseenthesnake,hehadbeenthesnake,heknewitnow...

           Atrulyterriblethoughtthenoccurredtohim,amemorybobbingtothesurfaceofhismind,onethatmadehisinsideswritheandsquirmlikeserpents.

           What’sheafter,apartfromfollowers?

           Stuffhecanonlygetbystealth...likeaweapon.Somethinghedidn’thavelasttime.

           I’mtheweapon,Harrythought,anditwasasthoughpoisonwerepumpingthroughhisveins,chillinghim,bringinghimoutinasweatasheswayedwiththetrainthroughthedarktunnel.I’mtheoneVoldemort’stryingtouse,that’swhythey’vegotguardsaroundmeeverywhereIgo,it’snotformyprotection,it’sforotherpeople’s,onlyit’snotworking,theycan’thavesomeoneonmeallthetimeatHogwarts...IdidattackMr.Weasleylastnight,itwasme.

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