"Kingsley… he… he's dead…" Harry stammered.
Mr. Weasley lowered his head and gave a silent nod.
The entire room fell abruptly quiet—
The twins' faces twisted with shock.
Ted and Andromeda Tonks exchanged a glance and both let out soft sighs.
Ginny pressed her face into her handkerchief, sobbing without a sound.
Ron dropped heavily onto the floor…
As for Harry Potter, it felt as though someone had struck him hard over the head, leaving his mind spinning.
Kingsley… just like that… gone?
In truth, Harry hadn't known Kingsley very long—not even two years. But that deep, magnetic voice and that steady, dependable presence had already left a profound impression on him.
And now Mr. Weasley was telling him that a wizard as powerful as Kingsley, an Auror as outstanding as him… had simply… died?
Harry could scarcely accept it.
Mr. Weasley had already gone to the cabinet and taken out a bottle of strong Firewhiskey along with several glasses.
"Here!" he said, flicking his wand. Filled glasses flew into everyone's hands. Raising his own, Mr. Weasley spoke in a low voice. "For Kingsley."
"For Kingsley!" Harry echoed, as if trying to escape the reality of it, and drained the entire glass of Firewhiskey in one gulp.
His throat burned fiercely.
"Who was it?" Harry rasped. "The ones who attacked the Order of the Phoenix headquarters… the ones who killed Kingsley… who were they?"
"Harry!" Sirius Black rushed forward and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Don't—"
"Who were they?!" Harry roared, almost hysterical.
"Sorry, we don't know…" Mr. Weasley shook his head gently. "Perhaps when Professor Dumbledore arrives, he'll know more."
"Harry, you need to rest," Sirius said firmly. Then he turned to his cousin. "Andromeda, is there a spare room?"
"Of course… come with me," Mrs. Tonks replied at once.
...
Lying on a small, tidy bed, Harry Potter was still grieving Kingsley Shacklebolt's death.
He touched the scar throbbing on his forehead. His throat still felt as though something were burning inside it—probably the Firewhiskey…
Then, without warning, the pain sharpened abruptly.
He clutched his forehead tightly and squeezed his eyes shut, forcing himself not to cry out—
A strange laugh suddenly slipped from his mouth, and his features twisted unnaturally…
...
The surroundings began to change bit by bit.
He was no longer in the Tonks' cottage, but standing inside an unfamiliar manor.
Like Grimmauld Place, it was decorated everywhere for Christmas, as though a grand holiday feast were about to begin…
Except every guest was dressed in sinister black robes—the attire of Death Eaters.
Harry stood at the very center of the Death Eaters, sharp, piercing laughter spilling from his lips.
"Master—" A tall woman with sleek black hair, dark skin, a broad jaw, and heavy-lidded eyes stepped forward, her expression humble, her voice trembling. "What has happened to make you so pleased?"
Bellatrix Lestrange's face was full of eager anticipation.
Voldemort's smile slowly faded.
"Master!" Yaxley approached from the other side. "Severus has arrived. He says he has urgent matters to report."
"Severus?" Bellatrix Lestrange's expression changed at once. She shot Yaxley a suspicious look and said coldly, "Shouldn't Snape be at their headquarters, celebrating Christmas with his Order of the Phoenix companions? And yet he chooses this moment…"
"Stand down, Bellatrix," Harry's hoarse voice rang out, still laced with unmistakable delight. He was in an excellent mood and did not flare up. "Let Severus in. I know why he's here."
"As you command, Master!" Bellatrix said hurriedly, bowing her head.
Severus Snape pushed anxiously through the crowd until he reached the Dark Lord.
He looked thoroughly disheveled and shaken, drawing a few snickers from nearby Death Eaters.
One cold glance from Voldemort silenced them instantly.
"Severus." Voldemort took hold of Severus Snape's arm, his tone unexpectedly gentle. "It appears you're unharmed."
"Yes, Master…" Snape lifted his head, meeting the Dark Lord's gaze with hollow eyes. He nodded. "But the Order of the Phoenix has suffered severe losses."
"The Order of the Phoenix suffered severe losses?" Bellatrix shrieked in disbelief.
"It is indeed hard to believe," Severus Snape replied calmly. "But just ten minutes ago, a group of strange yet powerful wizards suddenly attacked the Order of the Phoenix headquarters. I can confirm they were not our people… but they were formidable. I estimate at least five members of the Order died in the assault. The others fled in panic to different locations…"
"You're not joking, are you, Severus?" Yaxley said, equally incredulous. "The Order of the Phoenix headquarters is protected by the Fidelius Charm! And besides us, who else would attack them?"
"I am well aware of the existence of the Fidelius Charm, Yaxley," Snape said coldly. "But that is the truth."
"Severus is correct," Voldemort said with a faint smile, pulling Snape upright. "I can vouch for him."
Yaxley and Bellatrix both stared, eyes wide.
"The Order of the Phoenix has indeed suffered grievous losses. A most tragic reality," Voldemort said mockingly. "At the very least, I can confirm one of the dead… Kingsley Shacklebolt…"
"That troublesome Auror Shacklebolt is dead?" Yaxley looked delighted.
"Who could have done it? Besides us, does the Order of the Phoenix have other enemies?" Bellatrix asked eagerly.
"The world is vast, Bellatrix," Voldemort said with quiet significance. "And don't forget—just a few months ago, another mortal enemy of Albus Dumbledore escaped from his prison."
...
"Harry… Harry…"
Sirius's anxious voice pulled Harry Potter out of the dream.
Harry's eyes were unfocused. He only vaguely remembered having had a dream—
But every detail had already slipped from his mind.