Finding out about the future - A Shadowhunters and Harry Potter crossover

Chapter Sixty Eight - The Scar

Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running, and could hear his sisters frantic gasps as she shot up in her bed. They'd awoken from a vivid dream with their hands pressed over their faces. The old scar on their foreheads, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath their fingers as though someone had just pressed a white hot wire to their skin.

"You had the same dream?" asked Remus.

"Yeah" said Harry, "We've had similar dreams almost our whole lives"

"And you never told anyone?" asked Remus.

"We figured it was normal twin stuff" said Rose, "Which only became more reasonable once we entered the wizarding world"

"It's not normal" said Fred and George in sync, "We've never shared dreams"

Harry and Rose shared nervous looks.

Harry sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other hand reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window. 

Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful, and then turned to Rose, her eyes showing the same panic that Harry felt.

"It was so real" whispered Rose, her voice shaky.

"What did you see?" Harry asked.

"...There was two people - Pettigrew and someone else - I don't know who it was..."

Sirius gave a dark look at the mention of Pettigrew

"A dark room with a snake" continued Harry

"The voice... the voice..."

"Voldermort"

Many flinched

"Yeah" whispered Rose.

"But I can't rememebr what he looked like" 

"I remember that it was horrible - it was the thing that awoke me" 

"It's You-Know-Who" said Arthur, "He's always horrible"

"And who was the old man?" asked Harry

Rose shook her head, tipping her head back.

"Very expressive answer" said Alec sarcastically.

Fred shot him a glare.

There had definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them...Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name...and they had been plotting to kill someone else...

"They were plotting to kill us" whispered Rose

"For fucks sake" whispered Sirius, "They're fucking kids"

Remus put a conciliatory hand on his shoulder

Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there. As it happened, there was an extraordinary number of unusual things in this room. Two large wooden trunks stood open at the foot of his and his sisters beds, revealing cauldrons, a broomstick in his, black robes, and assorted spellbooks. Rolls of parchment littered that part of their desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open; Harry had been reading it before he fell asleep last night. The pictures in this book were all moving. Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another,