---
Harry sat up sharply in bed.
He had just had a nightmare about Voldemort and Wormtail.
In the dream, they were discussing murder.
In the end, they killed a Muggle.
And they were planning to co to Hogwarts and kill him.
Harry felt restless.
He was not afraid of Voldemort coming to kill him.
He rembered clearly—Voldemort could not touch him.
If Voldemort really ca, they would perish together.
The person Harry truly feared for… was Darren.
Even if they did not target Darren directly, Harry was certain one thing—
To capture him, they would definitely go after Darren.
And now, everyone knew Darren was involved.
Darren was too soft-hearted.
Too trusting.
Too kind.
Even though he was older, he was still only fourteen.
Harry could not imagine Darren facing Voldemort.
But—
He could not tell anyone.
After all, it was "just a dream."
If he told Hermione, she would say he was overthinking.
If he told Ron, Ron would laugh and say:
"Mate, you just need sleep. You're stressing too much. That's all."
As for Dumbledore…
Harry could not imagine writing to him to say he had a nightmare.
Their relationship was not that close.
It felt like a child begging an adult for comfort.
And telling Darren—
Harry rejected that idea instinctively.
Darren would worry.
He would lose sleep.
He might even start having nightmares too.
And Darren was already exhausted.
Harry could not burden him with this.
Yet the unease would not leave his heart.
Then—
He thought of one person.
Sirius Black.
His godfather.
At the end of last sester, Sirius had broken into Hogwarts.
At first, everyone thought he was a murderer.
But in the end, they learned the truth.
Sirius was innocent.
They had even used the Ti-Turner to save him.
And before the train left, Sirius had personally signed Harry's Hogsade permission form.
This was his godfather.
He could tell Sirius.
Without hesitation, Harry grabbed parchnt and began writing.
At the end, he added:
> "This morning, my scar hurt very badly.
It used to hurt whenever Voldemort was near…
Could he be nearby again now?"
He sent Hedwig with the letter.
Then he went downstairs for breakfast.
---
Life with the Dursleys this sumr could not be described as good.
But it was not as terrible as before.
Last year, Harry had blown up Aunt Marge.
That incident made the Dursleys just afraid enough to behave.
Still—
They did not want him around.
They preferred to keep him locked in his room all day.
Only letting him out to eat.
Today was no different.
But just as Harry finished his al, Uncle Vernon stopped him.
Vernon waved a letter angrily.
"You didn't even inform us! You just let those people contact us directly, you—"
He was about to explode—
Then he stopped himself.
Clearly rembering Aunt Marge.
He shoved the letter forward.
It was from the Weasleys.
The envelope was covered with stamps.
In one corner were their signatures.
The letter politely inford the Dursleys that Harry had been invited as a guest—
And would stay with the Weasleys.
They would also take him to the Quidditch World Cup.
Ron had ntioned it last term—
A gigantic, once-in-a-lifeti event.
Harry wanted to go.
Badly.
Trying to hide his excitent, he asked:
"So… can I go?"
"If I go, no one will disturb your sumr anymore."
"Is it for the whole sumr?" Vernon asked.
Harry nodded.
Uncle Vernon's eyes lit up.
Then he said, pretending generosity:
"Then go!"
"Do you want us to drive you?"
Harry almost laughed.
They wanted to be rid of him.
And he wanted to be rid of them.
Perfect.
---
One day later—
Dumbledore finally stopped Darren's world tour.
Because the Quidditch World Cup was approaching.
Neither Dumbledore nor Grindelwald liked crowded places.
Nicolas Flal and Perenelle refused to go as well.
They were too old.
They preferred peaceful days.
Crowds exhausted them.
But they were convinced Darren would love it.
So—
They ended his travels.
Packed his luggage.
And sent him straight to Diagon Alley.
To prepare to visit the Weasleys.
When Darren stood there with his suitcase—
His heart was filled with absolute helplessness.
He didn't like Quidditch.
He didn't like stadiums.
And he didn't like crowds.
Worst of all—
The World Cup was where disaster would begin.
As the so-called "Holy Father," he should be involved.
Then why couldn't he just keep traveling with Dumbledore?
Of course—
Everyone thought he would love it.
So Darren smiled reluctantly.
---
When the Weasleys arrived to pick him up—
Harry ca with them.
The mont Darren saw Harry, he rushed over happily.
Harry returned the smile.
And he was suddenly glad—
That he had not ntioned the dream.
He wanted Darren to stay happy.
Always.
At the Burrow—
The first people to greet Darren were Fred and George.
They rushed toward him at once.
"Darren! Co see our sumr masterpiece!"
"Mum's furious, but—"
"We're not giving up!"
They shouted in perfect unison.
Then Ron shoved them aside.
"Oh, Harry! Darren! You're finally here!"
"Ignore them—they're about to get murdered by Mum anyway!"
---
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