Voldemort's tone was musing, calm, but Harry's scar had begun to throb and pulse: Pain was building in his forehead, and he could feel that controlled sense of fury building inside Voldemort.
The evening after the funeral, my young lady and I were seated in the library; now musing mournfully--one of us despairingly--on our loss, now venturing conjectures as to the gloomy future.
Harry's musings were ended by Professor Dumbledore, who stood up at the staff table. The Great Hall, which in any case had been less noisy than it usually was at the Leaving Feast, became very quiet.