Several hours later, Harry sighed. The house elf had left him alone again. He tried to hear for sounds outside of the room, thinking that Professor Sinistra was out there. However, he heard nothing. The young Gryffindor hung his head dejectedly. He was so sure that it would be different this time.

"Young Mr. Potter, the Boy-Who-DIED," a harsh voice whispered from the shadows.

Harry gulped as he glanced around. He didn't see anyone, but he knew from experience that didn't mean he was alone. He was about to call for Mokai when the voice spoke. It was softer now.

"Such a fragile creature you are," the voice whispered. "You reek of your fear. No. No. That will not do for me."

"Who…who are you?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"A friend…and an enemy…I'm all…and nothing," the voice replied. Loud laughter then rang out throughout the semi-dark room. "But then again, you have all those, don't you, Mr. Potter? A friend…Ron Weasley, an enemy…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…Lord Voldemort," the voice hissed. "Yes, yes you will do great things. I can see it…just there beyond your scar. Darkness shrouded in light, death mixed with life…my, you are a conundrum, Mr. Potter."

"You're the one doing this to me, aren't you? You poisoned me."

"Ah…such innocence behind your words," the voice sighed contently. "No, dear child, it was not I who hurt you. Tell me, Mr. Potter. Do you trust Severus Snape with your life?"

"I…I—"

"I see you need more time. Well, then…until we meet again, young Mr. Potter."

"Please…please don't leave," Harry begged. A strange wind blew around the room, though, before the lights around the room extinguished. However, he only remained in the dark for a few moments before the bedroom door opened.

"Harry, are you all right? Oh, well, let's get those lights back on," Professor Sinistra said before nonverbally casting Incendio towards the candles. "That's better." However, Harry knew better. Whatever he just experienced would only occur again later when he was alone. He needed to tell Snape.