"I was..." Harry stopped speaking and looked away. He... what? Huh? WHAT?! Why was he thinking and reacting this way? If he’d been asleep for a week, then that meant the last thing he remembered was coming back from the Quidditch World Cup. Ireland had won the game, Death Eaters had crashed the festivities and the Dark Mark had been cast for the first time in thirteen years. But why did it feel like years had passed?