Harry,

Dad got us tickets for the World Cup!  Isn’t that great?  Bulgaria vs. Ireland!

You and Niamh want to come?

Ron

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Ron,

So do we.  That was my Christmas present last year from my da.

See you there!

Harry

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Last year?  Wow.  How’d he get a hold of them THAT early?

Ron

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Who knows?  Oh, have you heard about Mika?  He’s being sent to Durmstrang this year.

Harry

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Durmstrang?  Its supposed to be really cold up there.

Percy’s looking for Hermes now.  See you are the Cup!

Ron

P.S. Hermione’s coming too.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

Harry gave Hermes a pat as the owl delivered Ron’s last letter then flew out the kitchen window.  Niamh entered the room at just about the same time and saw the two other letters lying on the table.

“Who’re those from?”

“Ron,” replied Harry, scooping up the letters and folding them.

“All of them?”

“Yep.”

“Couldn’t he have come by Floo easier?  I mean, Errol can’t fly that fast.”

“He used Hermes,” said Harry with a smirk.

“Who?”

“Percy’s owl.”

Niamh laughed and crowed, “Oh, how I wish I could see his face!”

“Why?”

“Because he turns redder than Ron when he’s angry,” replied the girl before vanishing out of the kitchen.

Harry looked oddly after her then began to laugh.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

That night as Harry slept, he found himself having a very odd dream.

He was in a room; an old, dusty looking room that reminded him of the building he had grown up in.  There was a fire burning behind the grate and a chair tucked up close to it to his left.

“Wormtail.  Wormtail!” hissed a high-pitched voice from the chair.

A short, balding man in a black cloak rushed into the room, watery blue eyes wide.  He flinched as he walked over to stand beside the chair.

“There you are, Wormtail.  Move me closer to the fire.”

There was a scraping sound as the chair moved then the voice asked, “Where is Nagini?”

The man made a sign with his hands and the thing in the chair laughed.

“Exploring the house, you say.  A pity you can’t speak.  I am sure we would have – ah, WONDERFUL conversations.  And make sure you milk Nagini before we retire.  This journey had tired me.”

The man made another sign with his hands as the voice laughed in a high-pitched cackle.

“How long are we here?  Is that your question?”

The man called Wormtail nodded.

“A week.  Perhaps longer.  The place is moderately comfortable, and the plan cannot proceed yet.  It would be foolish to act before the Quidditch World Cup is over.”

Wormtail frowned and made a motion at a cup sitting nearby.

“We wait because wizards are pouring into the country at this very moment, and every meddler from the Ministry of Magic will be on duty, on the watch for signs of unusual activity, checking and double-checking identities.  They will be obsessed with security, lest the Muggles notice anything.  So we wait.”

Wormtail frowned for a moment then made another sign in the air – this one in the shape of a lightning bolt.  He then shook his head.

“Do this without Harry Potter?  I see…  You are – ah – CONCERNED for the boy.”

Wormtail shook his head vigorously and the voice snapped, “DO NOT LIE TO ME!  You find the task of nursing me wearisome, do you not?  Enough that you would find me a substitute instead of Harry Potter?”

There was a pause then the voice continued, “I COULD use another witch or wizard…  Harry Potter will be very hard to lay hands on. But – we shall manage.  Yesss.”  This last came out in a snake-like hiss.

Wormtail made another sign and the voice spoke with sudden menace.

“I have waited thirteen years for this moment, Wormtail.  A few months will make no difference.  The protections on the boy can be easily broken.”  There was a hiss of breath then, “And I have my own reasons for using the boy.”

Wormtail flinched then hurriedly made more signals with his hands.

“Only one more death, my dear Wormtail.  One more and our path to Harry Potter will be clear.  By then my FAITHFUL servant shall have rejoined us -”

Wormtail made another sign, pointing at himself and bowing, making the voice laugh mirthlessly.

“You?  LOYAL?  My dear Wormtail, I need someone with brains, someone who’s loyalty has never wavered – you fit neither requirement.”

“Though,” continued the voice with a touch of amusement, “you were quite fortunate to run into poor Bertha Jorkins.  Without her information I could not have formed our plan.  And you will be rewarded.  Yesss – you may find you will be just as useful to me as she was.”

Wormtail paled severely and made a slicing motion across his throat.  The voice laughed mirthlessly again.

“Kill you?  No, Wormtail, I am not going to kill you.  I killed Bertha because I had to.  You – you I may still use.”

There was another laugh.

“MODIFIED HER MEMORY?  A powerful wizard can break a Memory Charm, as I proved when I questioned her.  Silence your whimpering, Wormtail.  I think I hear Nagini…”

The voice began making hissing noises without drawing breath and a moment later an emerald green snake slid into the room, its undulating body at least twelve feet in length.

“Nagini has an interesting story,” said the voice, switching over to English.  “She says there is an old Muggle outside the door, listening to us.”

Footsteps crossed the room and the door was flung open, revealing an old man leaning heavily on a cane.  His eyes widened at being discovered.

“Where are you manners, Wormtail?  Invite our guest in.”

Wormtail made a motion with his hands and the old man entered, his eyes flicking to the chair by the fire and the snake curled up on the rotted hearthrug like a horrid mockery of a dog.

“You heard everything, Muggle?” hissed the voice.

“What’s that?” said the man defiantly.

“Muggle,” replied the voice acidly.  “It means you are not a wizard.”

“I don’t know what you mean by wizard but I do know that I ought to call the police.  You’ve done murder and you’re planning more.  And my wife knows I’m up here, so if I don’t come back -”

“You have no wife.  No one knows you are here.  Do not lie to Lord Voldemort, Muggle, for he knows…  he always knows…”

“Is that right?  Lord, is it?  Well I don’t think much of your manners, MY LORD.  Turn ‘round and face me like a man, why don’t you?”

Wormtail looked frightfully at the man as the voice cackled again.

“But I am not a man, Muggle.  I am much, much more than a man.  However…why not?  I will face you…  Wormtail, come turn my chair around.”

Wormtail whimpered.

“You heard me, Wormtail.”

Wormtail shuffled over to the chair, flinching as he placed his hands on it.  The snake lifted its head and hissed softly as the chair turned.

Then the chair faced the Muggle and he gasped.  His cane fell to the ground with a clatter as he screamed.  The figure in the chair lifted a wand and spoke two words.  Green light flooded the room and the old man fell, dead before he hit the dusty floor.  A high-pitched cackle filled the room, making Wormtail flinch once more.

Miles away in a small cottage located near Dublin, Ireland, Harold Jamison Snape awoke.

Harry sat up like a bolt of lightning, barely keeping himself from letting out a scream of terror.  It was not Voldemort or Wormtail that caused this reaction, but the vision of the green light of the Killing Curse.  It was a reaction born of old, when he had awoke from a nightmare filled with the green light.  Though he now knew the nature of the light and the source of that old nightmare, the reaction of screaming at the sight of it was sealed to his soul.

However, some sound must have come out as Niamh, who’s room was next to his, came rushing in, blue eyes wide, short-cropped hair in wild spikes, and baggy t-shirt askew about her neck, showing one narrow shoulder.  His father appeared a moment later, dark eyes alert despite it being almost three in the morning according to Harry’s glowing watch face.  The Dark Mark glowered at Harry from where it burned darkly under the Potion’s Masters pale skin and he turned away from it.

“Harry?” said Severus, frowning at his son.

“A dream,” replied Harry.  “Go back to sleep.  I’m sorry I woke you two.”

Severus and Niamh exchanged glances then looked back at Harry.

“You didn’t wake us up…” said Niamh

“Jardin did,” finished Severus.

Harry cursed mentally.  If his dream had been strong enough, Jardin could have sensed it through their bond.  Or would have sensed Harry’s turmoil and investigated.  Sometimes being bound to an Altair Raven (for that is what Jardin was) could be a very bad thing.

“Dammit,” he cursed.

Severus moved into the room and asked, “Harry, what was the dream about?”

Harry sighed and looked up his father and his friend, both of whom were watching him intently.

“Voldemort.”

Niamh let out a little gasp while Severus’ eyebrows flew up into his hair.  Neither of them had been expecting that response.

“Him and Wormtail.  They killed an old Muggle.  Just killed him.”  Harry said this in an impassive sort of voice, the events from two months ago replaying in his mind.  He shook them off and continued, “They’re planning something.  But they didn’t say what.”

“Did they say when?” asked Severus, his right hand moving to unconsciously cover the Mark.

“Not until after the World Cup.”

Severus frowned for a moment, chewing on his lip then shook his head.  He smiled at his son – a smile that looked forced – then said, “Alright.  I’m not sure how you saw…that monster…but I think I rather have an idea.  I suggest the three of us try and get back to sleep.”  He turned to leave, adding, “What we can get, that is,” as he left.

Niamh then turned to her friend and growled, “Alright…what didn’t you tell him?”

Harry simply arched an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t know what you mean, Ni.”

“You know very what I mean, Harry.  You didn’t tell him something.  I can feel it.”

“Another of your feelings?”

Niamh’s eyes narrowed as she hissed, “Don’t make light of me!  What didn’t you tell him?”

Harry sighed.

“Voldemort’s plan has something to do with me.”

Niamh blinked then walked into the room, sinking down onto Harry’s bed.

“Oh shit.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

“Shut up, Harry.”

“Yes, my dear Lady.”