'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
It'll never be safe for you here, Potter. He wants you too badly.
So go abroad, go into hiding.
Save yourself.
The sky, the smell of lake water, the sound of Ron's voice were extinguished: Pain cleaved Harry's head like a sword stroke. He was standing in a dimly lit room, and a semicircle of wizards faced him, and on the floor at his feet knelt a small, quaking figure.
"What did you say to me?" His voice was high and cold, but fury and fear burned inside him. The one thing he had dreaded — but it could not be true, he could not see how ...
The goblin was trembling, unable to meet the red eyes high above his. "Say it again!" murmured Voldemort. "Say it again!"
"M-my Lord," stammered the goblin, its black eyes wide with terror, "m- my Lord... we t-tried t-to st-stop them... Im-impostors, my Lord... broke — broke into the — into the Lestranges' v-vault... "
"Impostors? What impostors? I thought Gringotts had ways of revealing impostors? Who were they?"
"It was... it was... the P-Potter b-boy and t-two accomplices... "
"And they took?" he said, his voice rising, a terrible fear gripping him. "Tell me! What did they take?"
"A... a s-small golden c-cup, m-my Lord... "
The scream of rage, of denial left him as if it were a stranger's: He was crazed, frenzied, it could not be true, it was impossible, nobody had ever known: How was it possible that the boy could have discovered his secret?
