That sudden feeling which was sourceless, intense hatred and contempt surging from his heart, almost instinctive and utterly uncontrollable had been terrifying.
The overwhelming urge to destroy, to tear apart the body of the person before him with his bare hands, to hurt and maim and kill... Harry's face turned deadly pale at the memory. His shoulders were trembling, tremors he couldn't suppress no matter how hard he tried to control them.
Hermione and Ron were both looking at him with deep, worried concern. But Harry couldn't explain his momentary rage, couldn't find words that would make sense of what he'd felt without revealing how dark and violent those impulses had been. He sincerely hoped that Professor Watson, who had clearly noticed something was wrong with him, wouldn't pursue the matter.
Whether by extraordinary luck or because Professor Watson had somehow heard his silent, desperate wish and chosen mercy, in any case, Professor Watson didn't pursue his transgression and rudeness.
"Go ahead then—"
Bryan's aura returned to calm normality, the magical pressure that had filled the room dissipated, as if that momentary fury had been merely an illusion. He looked at the three of them gently, and sat back down in his chair to casually enjoy his sugar-free cookies, as if nothing unusual had happened at all.
"Is there something you need me to know?"
Bryan waved his hand at the three of them in an inviting gesture, indicating the empty chairs, gesturing for them to sit down and make themselves comfortable.
Percy had just caused them such intense emotional turbulence that when Professor Watson calmly asked what they had originally come to see him about, even Hermione was momentarily dazed, thrown off balance.
But after recovering, she discreetly glanced at Harry, whose face was still white as fresh snow. She took a steadying breath and began carefully.
"The situation is this, Professor, um—"
Hermione chose her words with extreme care, picking through them like stepping through a minefield.
"After Hagrid returned to Hogwarts a few nights ago, one evening we went down to his hut to visit him and see how he was. We had just left the castle, when Harry's scar started hurting—"
Bryan raised his eyebrows. He knew perfectly well this was just a convenient excuse these three students had found to justify coming to his office, to figure out why Percy had really been here. And he already knew about this particular incident in advance. However, he still decided to give the appropriate reaction.
"Is that so?"
Bryan frowned at Harry with what appeared to be worry, and after confirming that those green eyes were still clear and normal now, not flashing with that red light, he inquired gently,
"Can you give me the specific details? What exactly happened, what you saw?"
"Um, well—yes, Professor—"
Harry nodded hesitantly. Then he began to describe what had happened, speaking slowly, trying to remember accurately despite the confused nature of the vision.
Actually, there wasn't much concrete information to tell, which was frustrating. The vision he'd seen had been very blurry and indistinct, more like looking through frosted glass than the much clear experiences he'd had before.
And unlike last time in the summer, he hadn't witnessed Voldemort and Cliodna actually killing someone. The only piece of information that could be considered truly valuable was that Professor Watson had apparently done something and this mysterious action had made Voldemort very panicked and nervous.
"Professor Watson—"
After explaining the whole story as best he could, stumbling through the fragments of memory, Harry looked at Professor Watson, who had fallen into deep thought. Harry said cautiously, his voice soft,
"No matter what you're doing, whatever it is, you need to be extremely careful. Please. Because Voldemort seems to have already obtained some information about it."
"Ah, thank you for the reminder, Harry, I appreciate your concern—"
Bryan nodded readily. But seeing the three students' implicit expressions of burning desire for more information, he smiled slightly and added with gentle conclusiveness,
"As for what I actually did at Gringotts... I'm afraid I cannot share those details with you."
After leaving Professor Watson's office and stepping out into the corridor, being hit by the warm breeze flowing through the castle's windows, feeling the heat of the late May afternoon, Harry finally came fully back to his senses.
The fog in his mind cleared somewhat.
"Oh, I forgot to ask—"
Harry said somewhat despondently, "Why is it... why can I always see these things—"
"It's a special power that belongs specifically to you, Harry."
Ron looked at Harry with some awe.
"Being able to see what You-Know-Who is doing... oh, it's like you were born specifically to finish him off."
"Don't talk nonsense, Ron—"
Hermione glared at Ron with sharp warning.
"Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson are perfectly capable of dealing with You-Know-Who without putting that responsibility on Harry."
The topic ended there abruptly, silence falling over them.
Hermione could see clearly that Harry didn't want to continue talking about what had happened in Professor Watson's office—that terrible expression that had overtaken his face, so she just kept her rising worries locked in her heart.
The three of them quickened their pace toward the Great Hall. They certainly weren't about to forget Percy's recent stunning 'betrayal' of them!
"I swear on Merlin's beard I'll flatten his nose if I see him!"
Ron charged forward indignantly.
"To think we're liars—to accuse us of making it all up! It's completely idiotic! Who in their right mind would joke about You-Know-Who's return? Who would invent something like that for attention? He's simply drunk on the idea of power, of being the Minister's pet! He's lost all sense!"
The three of them had delayed considerable time in Professor Watson's office—first the confrontation with Percy, then the discussion of Harry's vision.
By the time they finally made it down to the Great Hall, descending the staircases and crossing the crowded corridors, more than half the students had already finished their lunch and were gradually dispersing, returning to their respective common rooms in small groups, chatting about afternoon classes.
They didn't spot Percy anywhere at the Gryffindor table either, though Harry's eyes scanned the length of it twice. But Ginny, after seeing them enter and noticing them looking around searchingly, walked over from where she'd been sitting with some friends.
"What's going on? Why are you only coming down for lunch now?"
Ginny brushed back her fiery red hair with one hand, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. She looked gentle and captivating in the golden sunlight streaming through the windows into the Hall.
Harry was momentarily dazed by this vision, caught off guard by how pretty she looked. Then he recovered himself and asked with a gloomy expression, trying to focus on the important matter,
"Have you seen Percy, Ginny? Has he been down here?"
"Oh, of course I saw him—"
Ginny also wrinkled her nose in an expression mixing confusion and anger.
"I saw him come rushing down from upstairs about twenty minutes ago, looking absolutely awful. I greeted him cheerfully, tried to say hello like a normal person, but he completely ignored me as if I didn't exist and left straight through the entrance hall without a word. Didn't even look at me. It was incredibly rude."
Ginny scrutinized the expressions of the three carefully, reading tension and anger in their faces. Her eyebrow furrowed with concern.
"What on earth happened between you? What did Percy do? He looked like he'd suffered a major blow, like someone had died or he'd lost his job or something equally catastrophic."
"That's exactly what he deserves—he's lucky we didn't curse him—"
Ron grumbled indignantly, offering his harsh opinion without any courtesy or familial love.
While Harry and Hermione privately agreed with this brutal assessment, because of Ron and Ginny's close relationship as siblings, because they didn't want to make things more awkward for the family, they didn't feel comfortable making such openly harsh statements themselves.
"I still don't quite understand the political situation—"
Arriving at the Gryffindor table, after some picking and choosing among the remaining food, Ron selected a slightly stale bagel from a reduced pile of dishes.
While taking enthusiastic big bites despite its texture, he grabbed a waiting cup of pumpkin juice and gulped it down thirstily in one long swallow. Then, as if coming back to life, feeling more human, he let out a long, satisfied breath.
He reached for a beef pie that looked more appetizing and said to Hermione around bites,
"Percy helped Fudge come to Hogwarts to lecture and argue just to climb up to the position of Minister's assistant—I get that, pure ambition. But why would Fudge do this?
Why go to all this trouble? What benefit could sending someone to Hogwarts as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor possibly give him? What's his goal?"
"The Minister for Magic plans to send someone into Hogwarts?"
Ginny immediately widened her eyes, looking very shocked.
"What does he plan to accomplish? Does he actually want to interfere with Hogwarts?"
"Interfere with Hogwarts? Is that what this is really about?"
Harry asked nervously, his stomach clenching with a new kind of worry. This political complex was harder to fight than dark wizards.
"Is that the real reason Fudge is racking his brains to force someone into the school? Political control?"
But faced with Harry's urgent questioning, Ginny wasn't so confident in her analysis. Her eyes drifted uncertainly toward the quiet Hermione, who clearly understood more.
Ginny stammered slightly, "Well, I think... I mean, what else could he possibly be planning besides that? What other motive makes sense?"
"But even if that toad Umbridge somehow gets in past Professor Watson's objections, what can she really accomplish?"
Ron chewed thoughtfully on his beef pie, speaking around the food.
"Professor Watson and Professor Dumbledore are here, in the castle. She can't just run amok and take over, can she? They'd stop her."
"Not necessarily, Ron. Don't be so sure."
Though her tone was calm, Hermione's expression was strikingly gloomy, and troubled. Her mind was clearly working through unpleasant scenarios.
"If a Ministry spy successfully enters the school and embeds herself here, first of all, she could constantly monitor the whereabouts and activities of Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson. We all know the Minister for Magic fears them most—fears what they might do, what they might organize against him."
Hermione's voice grew more intense.
"Secondly, she can preach the Ministry's official version of events to young witches and wizards here—I mean, constantly repeating that You-Know-Who hasn't been resurrected at all, that it's all fabricated panic, that the wizarding world is completely peaceful and safe and the Ministry has everything under control.
If enough people believe this official rhetoric, then Professor Dumbledore, Professor Watson—and of course, us, people will increasingly regard us all as liars or delusional fools. That's exactly what Cornelius Fudge desperately wants to accomplish. He wants to control the narrative. You know, Harry..."
Her voice dropped, and became more worried.
"Even now at Hogwarts, quite a few students are already skeptical about whether You-Know-Who really returned."
"I can't understand it, it makes no sense—"
Ron shook his head in bewilderment. "Even an idiot like Malfoy hasn't disputed this. Why would so many people..."
"Because people will be afraid, Ron. Desperately afraid."
Ginny looked with sympathetic worry at Harry, whose lips were pressed tightly together in a thin, pale line. She answered the question softly.
"Will the Ministry give up this plan?"
Suppressing his agitating emotions with effort, Harry asked the question that really mattered.
"Professor Watson has already clearly refused Fudge's initial request. He just refused Percy again... so will the Ministry simply give up on interfering with Hogwarts?"
Hermione's heavy silence, the way she looked down at her plate and said nothing, gave Harry his answer more clearly than words could have.
The sunlight outside the windows remained dazzling, almost mockingly cheerful. The gentle sound of wind rustling through trees, the pleasant waves lapping at the lake shore, and the chirping of insects and birds in the grounds created a false sense of peace and harmony.
Everything looked so normal, so safe.
Harry, who just hours ago had felt vaguely that the world was 'too peaceful,' too quiet after Voldemort's return, was now getting his first real taste of the insidious turmoil and manipulation that would follow Voldemort's return.
'Should I... should I eliminate Dolores Umbridge?'
This thought suddenly jumped into Harry's mind shocking him. And immediately, before he could even fully process the words, he was frightened into a cold sweat by this terrible, horrifying idea.
Even Professor Dumbledore and Professor Watson wouldn't dare openly kill a Ministry employee. What kind of absolute foolishness had possessed him to have such a thought enter his head? What was wrong with him that murder seemed like a reasonable solution?
This wasn't the first time today either, which made it worse. Earlier in Professor Watson's office, he had felt genuine homicidal intent toward both Percy and Professor Watson. There was perhaps some twisted excuse for Percy, given his betrayal and accusations. But the intense hatred toward Professor Watson had been completely absurd.
Yet Harry knew that his momentary malicious thoughts weren't illusions or exaggerations.
"Harry?"
Hermione leaned forward across the table, her expression full of worry as she gazed at him, trying to read what was happening behind his increasingly troubled expression.
Across from him, Ginny's face was also somewhat pale as she looked at him with similar concern, clearly sensing something was very wrong.
"It's nothing—"
Harry felt a pang in his heart, knowing these two perceptive girls had already noticed something was wrong with him. He guiltily lowered his head, unable to meet their worried gazes, and began to devour the leftovers remaining on the table with false enthusiasm.
"Eat quickly, both of you. Afternoon classes are about to start. We can't be late."
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