The Flip of a Coin

Chapter 3

"Dumbledore. It was Dumbledore..."

***

Ron stared at Harry, his mouth open wide.

"Wh...what? Dumbledore?" He shook his head. "You're kidding. Right?" He looked anxious, "Please say you're kidding. It's your scar, making your head funny..."

Harry shook his head, biting his lip, a hand still up to his scar.

"No. It was definitely Dumbledore. He was stood at a big altar, with four others. There were two witches, one short one tall, and one other wizard. But I couldn't see their faces." He stopped short. "No. This can't be happening. I don't think I should say anything else, just in case. I think I'll go see..." He trailed off. "Ron? What am I going to do? Who can I talk to? He said something about heirs. He said he knew I was watching. How did he know? Why hasn't he said anything to me?"

Ron shook his head. "I dunno mate, but something's definitely wrong here. I mean, if you're sure it was him, and your scar's hurting...Maybe Hermione could help?"

Harry sighed. "No. I don't want to worry her. I think as few people as possible should know this." He lay back, thinking.

"Err, Harry?"

"Mm?"

"Well. See I think someone else knows..."

Harry sat up, and slapped his forehead, making his scar hurt even more.

"Ow! Who? Oh."

They looked at each other and nodded.

"Malfoy."

***

Far away from the Gryffindor dorms, someone else had jerked awake, sitting up and blinking, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness of the room. He sighed, pushing his silver-blonde locks out of his face, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and padding across the cold stone floor, waving a hand at the candles on the walls on his way to the bathroom. After splashing some cool water onto his face, he gazed up into the glass, looking into his own pale grey eyes, his hand to his forehead, rubbing a mark. When he took his hand away, he gasped, holding onto the sink, staring at the glowing scar there. The lightening bolt scar...

***

"Harry! Ron! C'mon, we're going to be late!" called Hermione, rolling her eyes, banging at the dorm door.

"Just go without us, Herm," came the muffled reply from Ron.

"Snape will be really angry if you're late! And you know what Malfoy'll be like," she argued, "I don't want to face him on my own if you don't turn up."

The door flew open with force, nearly creaking off its hinges.

"Don't talk to me about Malfoy," hissed a red-faced Harry. "He knows why I won't be there."

"What?" Hermione frowned. "Please, just come. I'm not going without you."

Ron appeared behind Harry, sighing.

"Fine we'll come." He looked to Harry, who opened his mouth to object, but shut it quickly after Ron stood on his foot. "We've already missed breakfast. People will think there's something wrong."

Hermione nodded, smiling, and grabbed their hands, pulling them down through the common room, and down to the dungeons, unaware of the person watching them...