Daisy's father said, and she herself agreed, that the Weasleys were one peculiar bunch.
They weren't as affluent, sociable, and affable as her other neighbours. They never came to the local kids' birthdays, they never invited the local kids to their...
HARRY DREAMED THAT he was back in the Room of Requirement.
Cho was accusing him of luring her there under false pretenses: she said that he had promised her a hundred and fifty Chocolate Frog cards if she showed up.
Harry protested. Cho shouted back, "Cedric gave me loads of Chocolate cards, look!" and pulled out fistfuls of cards from inside her robes, throwing them into the air. The girl then turned into Hermione, who said, "You did promise her... I think you should give her something else instead... How about your Firebolt?"
The kiss he had with Cho and Hermione's lengthy speech about what she was probably feeling and expecting afterwards from that day's earlier afternoon must be messing with his already messed up mind.
Harry was protesting that he could not give Cho his Firebolt because Umbridge had confiscated it, when the dream suddenly changed...
His body felt smooth, powerful, and flexible. He was gliding on his belly between shining metal bars, flat against the floor. It was dark, yet he could see objects around shimmering in strange, vibrant colors...
A man, alive but drowsing, was sitting in front of a door at the end of the corridor. Harry longed to bite the man... but he must master the impulse... He had more important work to do...
But the man stirred and jumped to his feet, drawing his wand from a belt.
He had no choice. He reared high from the floor and struck once, twice, three times, plunging his fangs deeply into the man's flesh, feeling his ribs splinter beneath his jaws, feeling the warm gush of blood...
"Harry! HARRY!"
His forehead hurt terribly... It was aching, like it was about to burst...
"Harry!"
His eyes were thrown open. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat and his bedcovers were twisted all around him like a straitjacket.
Ron was standing over him, looking extremely frightened.
"Your dad," Harry panted, his chest heaving, "Your dad's... been attacked!"
Ron blanched, "W— What?"
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December 18th, 1995
DAISY SAT ON her bed with her knees drawn close against her chest. Three letters sat in front of her, opened, and she kept looking at them alternately, over and over again.
