The low shine of light

His point of view lowered slowly until he looked through the large front windows into what seemed to be the front parlor of the home. Four people stood in the room, a couple in muggle clothing huddled against the far wall; two dark cloaked individuals stood opposite the couple, their wands pointing toward the man and woman.

Harry turned around in surprise. His impression from his dream was that their attackers had killed Hermione’s parents, so his surprise soon turned to concern about the condition of the Grangers. Hermione seemed to exhaust her strength with her exclamation and she sank to the ground.

He must have dozed for a time, for when he opened his eyes; the moon had risen and was streaming through the window. Glancing over to Hedwig’s cage, Harry found she still hadn’t returned. Concerned, he got up to look out the window to see if he could spot the snowy owl returning, but the night was still and peaceful.

Suddenly an ear-piercing scream echoed through the void surrounding Harry. It rose sharply to an agonising pitch that had Harry reflexively flinching from the pain-filled sound. Neither a single light nor any shape could be seen in the gloom. The only reality was the sound of agony, wrenched from the throat of someone unseen. As suddenly as the sound had come, it died down to a whimper and then it was gone.

She took a deep breath as if what she wanted was such an important thing that she feared he wouldn't grant her request and needed to steel her courage to ask. She took his hand away from its stroking of Crookshanks's ears and held it between both of hers.

“Certainly not today, but tomorrow. Harry, you must know that I can only teach you till the next term starts. I hope you’ll understand that I won’t have enough time to teach you as often as you need during term. Probably on your weekends, but during the week, Professor Sna—”