Having a Nightmare

Harry jolted awake from his sleep. He reached up to touch his forehead, baring his teeth in pain. The Lightning Scar on his forehead burned fiercely, as though someone had pressed red-hot wire against his skin.

By the time Harry recovered and sat up, his forehead was drenched in sweat. He looked around in confusion, his gaze settling on Ron, who was lying nearby and snoring.

What had that dream been about?

Harry had even recognized the two people in it. One was Peter Pettigrew, who was supposedly dead in Azkaban Prison not long ago. The other sat in an armchair with his back to Harry, but Harry would never forget that cold, shrill voice... It was Voldemort's voice.

The person in the armchair had definitely been Voldemort.

They had just murdered someone.

Harry furrowed his brow and desperately tried to recall more details. Right, they had seemed to be discussing something, plotting some kind of conspiracy.

"What's wrong, Harry?"

Sirius's voice sounded beside Harry.

"I had a nightmare."

Harry was still gently rubbing the scar on his forehead, trying to ease the pain it caused.

Sirius noticed Harry rubbing his forehead and asked with a frown, "Does your Charms scar hurt badly?"

"Yeah. The last time it hurt was because Voldemort was nearby."

As he spoke, Harry anxiously glanced around. They were at the Quidditch World Cup campsite, where there were many Ministry of Magic guards. Voldemort clearly couldn't be nearby.

Sirius fell silent, and no one knew what he was thinking.

"What did you dream about?" he suddenly asked.

"I dreamed of Voldemort and Peter. They were murdering someone, and they seemed to be plotting some kind of conspiracy." Harry lowered his voice as he described what he had seen in the dream, then added, "I thought the