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ut there's a chance we'll be playing Slytherin in conditions like this so it's a good idea to work out how we're going to cope with them。 Harry； didn't you do something to your glasses to stop the rain fogging them up when we played Hufflepuff in that storm？'
'Hermione did it；' said Harry。 He pulled out his wand； tapped his glasses and said； 'Impervius！'
'I think we all ought to try that；' said Angelina。 'If we could just keep the rain off our faces it would really help visibility … all together； e on … Impervius！ OK。 Let's go。'
They all stowed their wands back in the inside pockets of their robes； shouldered their brooms and followed Angelina out of the changing rooms。
They squelched through the deepening mud to the middle of the pitch； visibility was still very poor even with the Impervius Charm； light was fading fast and curtains of rain were sweeping the grounds。
'All right； on my whistle；' shouted Angelina。
Harry kicked off from the ground； spraying mud in all directions； and shot upwards； the wind pulling him slightly off course。
He had no idea how he was going to see the Snitch in this weather； he was having enough difficulty seeing the one Bludger with which they were practising； a minute into the practice it almost unseated him and he had to use the Sloth Grip Roll to avoid it。 Unfortunately； Angelina did not see this。 In fact； she did not appear to be able to see anything； none of them had a clue what the others were doing。 The wind was picking up； even at a distance Harry could hear the swishing； pounding sounds of the rain pummelling the surface of the lake。
Angelina kept them at it for nearly an hour before conceding defeat。 She led her sodden and disgruntled team back into the changing rooms； insisting that the practice had not been a waste of time； though without any real conviction in her voice。 Fred and George were looking particularly annoyed； both were bandy…legged and winced with every movement。 Harry could hear them plaining in low voices as he towelled his hair dry。
'I think a few of mine have ruptured；' said Fred in a hollow voice。
'Mine haven't；' said George； through clenched teeth； 'they're throbbing like mad： feel bigger if anything。'
'OUCH！' said Harry。
He pressed the towel to his face； his eyes screwed tight with pain。 The scar on his forehead had seared again； more painfully than it had in weeks。
'What's up？' said several voices。
Harry emerged from behind his towel； the changing room was blurred because he was not wearing his glasses； but he could still tell that everyone's face was turned towards him。
'Nothing；' he muttered； 'I … poked myself in the eye； that's all。'
But he gave Ron a significant look and the two of them hung back as the rest of the team filed back outside； muffled in their cloaks； their hats pulled low over their ears。
'What happened？' said Ron； the moment Alicia had disappeared through the door。 'Was it your scar？'
Harry nodded。
'But：' looking scared； Ron strode across to the window and stared out into the rain； 'he … he can't be near us now； can he？'
'No；' Harry muttered； sinking on to a bench and rubbing his forehead。 'He's probably miles away。 It hurt because： he's： angry。'
Harry had not meant to say that at all； and heard the words as though a stranger had spoken them … yet knew at once that they were true。 He did not know how he knew it； but he did； Voldemort； wherever he was； whatever he was doing； was in a towering temper。
'Did you see him？' said Ron； looking horrified。 'Did you： get a vision； or something？'
Harry sat quite still； staring at his feet； allowing his mind and his memory to relax in the aftermath of the pain。
A confused tangle of shapes； a howling rush of voices：
'He wants something done； and it's not happening fast enough；' he said。
Again； he felt surprised to hear the words ing out of his mouth； and yet was quite certain they were true。
'But： how do you know？' said Ron。
Harry shook his head and covered his eyes with his hands； pressing down upon them with his palms。 Little stars erupted in them。 He felt Ron sit down on the bench beside him and knew Ron was staring at him。
'Is this what it was about last time？' said Ron in a hushed voice。 'When your scar hurt in Umbridge's office？ You…Know…Who was angry？'
Harry shook his head。
'What is it； then？'
Harry was thinking himself back。 He had been looking into Umbridge's face： his scar had hurt： and he had had that odd feeling in his stomach： a strange； leaping feeling： a happy feeling： but of course； he had not recognised it for what it was； as he had been feeling so miserable himself：
'Last time； it was because he was pleased；' he said。 'Really pleased。 He thought： something good was going to happen。 And the night before we came back to Hogwarts：' he thought back to the moment when his scar had hurt so badly in his and Ron's bedroom in Grimmauld Place： 'he was furious'
He looked round at Ron； who was gaping at him。
'You could take over from Trelawney； mate；' he said in an awed voice。
'I'm not making prophecies；' said Harry。
'No； you know what you're doing？' Ron said； sounding both scared and impressed。 'Harry； you're reading You…Know…Who's mind！'
'No；' said Harry； shaking his head。 'It's more like： his mood； I suppose。 I'm just getting flashes of what mood he's in。 Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year。 He said that when Voldemort was near me； or when he was feeling hatred； I could tell。 Well； now I'm feeling it when he's pleased； too：〃
There was a pause。 The wind and rain lashed at the building。
'You've got to tell someone；' said Ron。
'I told Sirius last time。'
'Well； tell him about this time！'
'Can't； can I？' said Harry grimly。 'Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires； remember？'
'Well then； Dumbledore。'
'I've just told you； he already knows；' said Harry shortly； getting to his feet； taking his cloak off his peg and swinging it around him。 There's no point telling him again。'
Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak； watching Harry thoughtfully。
'Dumbledore'd want to know；' he said。
Harry shrugged。
'C'mon： we've still got Silencing Charms to practise。'
They hurried back through the dark grounds； sliding and stumbling up the muddy lawns； not talking。 Harry was thinking hard。 What was it that Voldemort wanted done that was not happening quickly enough？
'： he's got other plans： plans he can put into operation very quietly indeed： stuff he can only get by stealth： like a weapon。 Something he didn't have last time。'
Harry had not thought about those words in weeks； he had been too absorbed in what was going on at Hogwarts； too busy dwelling on the ongoing battles with Umbridge； the injustice of all the Ministry interference： but now they came back to him and made him wonder： Voldemort's anger would make sense if he was no nearer to laying hands on the weapon； whatever it was。 Had the Order thwarted him； stopped him from seizing it？ Where was it kept？ Who had it now？