The Graveyard - 6

"Voldemort used a room upstairs," he whispered, uncertain why he felt the need to keep his voice so low.

"How do you know?" Ginny asked, also whispering.

"I saw it in a dream," he replied curtly. He found it rather unsettling to feel as if he was somehow returning to this house, even though he knew he'd never actually physically been there before.

Upstairs, the dust also thickly covered the floor, but Harry could distinguish vague, slithering strips where it wasn't as thick – traces of Nagini's presence. Memories of Voldemort murdering the Muggle who'd discovered him here filled Harry's mind, and he suddenly didn't want Ron to follow him into that room.

"Take the Spell Detector and look around downstairs. I'll check the room up here," he said, placing his hand on Ron's chest and handing him the glasses.

Ron shrugged, but took the Spell Detector and turned around. Hermione glanced at him suspiciously before following Ron down the stairs. Ginny, however, stayed with him.

"Why don't you start at that end of the hall, and I'll go this way?" he suggested, already knowing her answer.

"What good is that going to do? I can't sense anything the way you can, and we've only got the one Spell Detector. It's better to stay in pairs," Ginny said, frowning slightly.

Sighing, he began moving forward again, trying to shield her with his body. He didn't know if she was aware of what he was trying to do, but suspected she was because she kept moving in different directions to examine various paintings on the wall, or peek inside an open room. He was practically bouncing off the walls, trying to stay in front of her. He gritted his teeth in frustration.

When they finally reached the room at the end of the hall, Harry was struck with a massive sense of déjà vu. It looked exactly how it had appeared in his dreams, right down to the large wing-backed chair in the center of the room.

Harry glanced around, peering into cracks, crevices and each corner and, although he found nothing, his nerves refused to settle. He suspected his apprehension had more to do with what had happened here in the past than any threat now, but he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling. It made him very edgy, and he suspected his tenseness only increased Ginny's anxiety. She stayed with him as he searched each room, although she walked around, peering behind portraits and moving trinkets on the shelves.

Neither of them spoke as they moved from room to room, and the hair on the back of Harry's neck stood on end. There was something wrong about this house.

Finally, in the last room they searched, Harry tried to lighten the mood and ease Ginny's tension by repeatedly poking her in the ribs each time he walked by. He could tell she was growing annoyed, but he could also see the laughter in her eyes.

"Harry, you're being a prat," she said at last.

Harry grinned, blowing on a tabletop so a cloud of dust arose in their faces. "Am not," he replied childishly.

Shaking her head, Ginny returned to what she was doing, smiling lightly. They continued their search in silence once again.

"Find anything up there?" Ron's voice shouted from the floor below, causing both Harry and Ginny to jump.

They grinned at each other self-consciously, silently promising never to let Ron know he'd startled them.

"Nah. There's nothing," Harry called.

"This place gives me the creeps," Ron said.

Although Ron couldn't see him, Harry nodded in agreement. He watched Ginny peering at several items atop an antique desk. Quietly slipping back into the room, he ducked behind the other side of the desk and poked his head up suddenly.