Stinging, it stung a lot!
This was an experience Harry had never had since he was born, as if the speed of his growth had been accelerated ten thousand times.
Finally, accompanied by a great burst of steam, he emerged from the cauldron. Just minutes ago, he was a baby, and now he had turned into an adult...
Harry had a vague suspicion in his mind.
"Put a robe on me," a cold, sharp voice echoed.
The moment his dream self spoke, Harry felt a sharp pain in his forehead. He sat up in bed abruptly, finally waking up from the strange dream.
Harry touched the sheets beneath him and realized they were soaked in sweat. In the next moment, he felt dizzy and as if someone were sawing through his head with an electric saw.
"Harry, are you okay?" The noise Harry made woke up Ron in the adjacent bed. He jumped up and looked at his friend with concern.
"No, I'm not okay... Actually, I have a headache..." Harry spoke hesitantly. "I had a strange dream..."
"I'll go get my dad." Ron got out of bed without thinking twice. Harry tried to stop him, but his hand found empty air. Ron had already quickly left the room.
Shortly after, Mr. Weasley arrived.
"Harry, I heard you have a headache."
Harry felt a bit embarrassed. He still held on to the hope that this was just a nightmare, although he didn't believe it himself. Logic told him that he should now report to a trusted adult wizard about what was happening, but deep down in his mind, he still felt some resistance.
Though reluctant, Harry nodded sincerely.
Mr. Weasley remained silent for a moment. "The person who stole your blood is likely casting a curse. The headache and dreams are effects of the curse... Harry, I need to take you to see a doctor. Ron, stay here and get some rest."
Harry felt relieved. This explanation seemed acceptable and more believable. Ron changed his expression, but after thinking for a moment, he realized he couldn't help Harry much in this situation, so he returned to his bed.
"Thank you, Mr. Weasley." Harry felt guilty, as Mr. Weasley was already tired and now had to deal with all this because of him. At such a late hour, finding a doctor wouldn't be easy.
When Harry casually grabbed a jacket and approached the tent door, ready to leave with Mr. Weasley, the tent curtain suddenly opened, and a tall figure appeared before them.
"Professor Dumbledore!" Harry saw the person he most wanted to see at this moment.
"Arthur sent me a letter talking about your kidnapping. I thought to come and see your condition with my own eyes, and it seems I arrived in time," Dumbledore said, blinking and seeming relieved to have arrived in time.
"Professor Dumbledore, I..." Harry was anxious to tell his experience, but Dumbledore raised a hand to interrupt him.
"Let's find a quiet place to talk. There's nothing more unpleasant than speaking loudly at night." Dumbledore glanced at the other tent rooms and then indicated for Harry to follow him outside.
Dumbledore led Harry out of the tent, while Mr. Weasley returned to his room to sleep peacefully. With Dumbledore present, he didn't have to worry about anything.
At this moment, the camp was quiet. Those who wanted to leave had already gone, and those who stayed had been assigned a tent and were sleeping peacefully. In the vast camp, only Harry and Dumbledore were strolling outside.
"Tom's enchantment power is growing... Perhaps I should install a fire-fighting system at Hogwarts." Dumbledore looked at the black remains of the tents piled up at the edge of the camp and sighed sincerely.
"Yes, Seamus will surely make many, many mistakes." Seamus was one of Harry's classmates, also a Gryffindor, and seemed to have a talent for explosions, always causing some noise in class.
Perhaps due to Dumbledore's presence, Harry felt calmer. He even intended to make a small joke.
Dumbledore chuckled.
After their laughter, they got into the main topic.
"I know tonight has been an intense night for you, and I know you now need rest and an explanation." Behind his half-moon-shaped glasses, Dumbledore had eyes as clear as a lake's water, and he observed Harry for a moment before saying, "Don't worry, it's not a curse, but could you tell me in detail about that nightmare?"
Harry couldn't have been more eager to do so, and he told Dumbledore everything just as it had happened. Dumbledore's eyes grew deeper as he listened.
Most dreams tend to become blurry upon waking up, but Harry remembered his previous dream exceptionally clearly, even the smallest details.
While recounting his nightmare, Harry also occasionally watched Dumbledore's reaction, but he was disappointed to see that Dumbledore barely showed any response, simply standing there as an excellent listener. Only his eyes flickered slightly when Harry mentioned the blood extraction.
Did Dumbledore seem a bit relieved? Maybe he was just imagining things, Harry thought.
After hearing Harry's narration, Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and looked down at Harry. "There are things that would be a burden to know too soon. But I can tell you with all responsibility that, from a certain point of view, this is not a bad thing. All of this was already foreseen."
Harry: ...
Dumbledore's words were hard for him to grasp, and summoning all his courage, he asked Dumbledore directly, "Is the person who came back to life Voldemort?"
Dumbledore turned around, his back to Harry, and with an unquestionable tone, said, "Harry, it's time for you to go back to sleep."
Harry knew he wouldn't get any more information from Dumbledore. He even felt a bit of annoyance inside: why was Dumbledore refusing to talk to him directly? If it were Tom Yodel, wouldn't this be an opportune occasion?
Maybe Dumbledore had other plans. Harry could only console himself with that thought.
He returned to the tent and comforted himself with effort: at least Professor Dumbledore now knew everything, and his scar hadn't hurt since he appeared. That was a good thing, right?
With complicated feelings, Harry went back to sleep.
Meanwhile, in the distant cottage in the village of Little Hangleton, a man with a skeletal appearance had put on a black robe with the help of his loyal servant.
He was tall and thin, his face paler than a skeleton's, with both his eyes completely red and a nose resembling that of a snake, only two narrow slits.
With the help of bones, flesh, and blood, Voldemort had been resurrected.