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HP Chapter 123: Nightmare
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 14:01:35 +0000 UTC"Professor Dumbledore was still smiling through all that, " Fanny remarked on the way back to the Great Hall. "Sigh, I suppose in a way, Professor Trelawney is kind of pitiful. Anne? Did you hear what I just said?"
"Hmm? Oh, yeah," Anne looked up. "You said Dumbledore is kind of pitiful, "
"I was talking about Professor Trelawney. You weren’t listening, were you? What’s going on?"
"I just… remembered something," Anne replied, but her voice sounded hollow.
That morning in Charms, Anne had made mistake after mistake, silly, basic ones that drew laughter from Malfoy.
"Reeve, did you bring your Transfiguration brain to Charms class today?" he sneered.
Anne ignored him, but Fanny shot back, "Then what, you’ve just been brainless all year?"
A few fifth-year Ravenclaws sitting nearby burst out laughing.
At lunch, Fanny couldn’t help asking, Anne had just tried to eat ketchup like it was pudding for the second time.
"How long has Umbridge been at the school now?" Anne asked out of nowhere.
Fanny reached over to feel Anne’s forehead, checking to see if she was delirious. "Professor Umbridge has been here since term started, same as us. Just over a month."
"Only a month?" Anne asked again.
"Yup. It’s the Friday of week five," Fanny confirmed.
Anne narrowed her eyes and stared back at her plate. "Just over a month? Maybe I remembered it wrong…?"
"What do you think you did wrong?" Fanny asked.
Anne glanced at her briefly, then shook her head. "I’m not sure yet."
Fanny looked at her, now clearly more confused, and concerned.
"I think I need to go to the library," Anne said, putting down her knife and fork. "Fanny, yeah. I need to look something up."
"But you only had a tiny piece of pineapple bread and one bite of ketchup?" Fanny exclaimed. Anne passing on food? That felt like a real crisis.
"You’re right. I need to be full to do research properly," Anne nodded, pulling over a plate of roast pork chops and beginning to slice.
Fanny sighed in relief. There’s the Anne I know. She happily helped by piling more delicious food onto Anne’s tray.
Anne finished every bite, then set her utensils down. "Alright, I’m off to the library. See you by Hagrid’s cabin this afternoon."
"See you in class later," Fanny said with a nod.
Anne strolled slowly out of the Great Hall, but the moment she reached the empty entrance hall, her mask shattered. Her expression twisted into one of deep panic. She had acted calm to keep Fanny from worrying, but inside, her mind was a storm.
Because the plot had changed.
This time was different. Unlike before, when small changes could be traced back to her actions, this time Anne had done nothing, and yet the timeline had been drastically altered.
Professor Trelawney wasn’t supposed to be sacked now. She was supposed to be dismissed only after Hagrid returned.
And whenever Trelawney came up, Anne remembered a certain prophecy.
A prophecy about her.
"A soul that crossed time and space will arrive in a new world and become entangled in inescapable fate.
Betrayal and trust will unfold around her.
The path she chooses will determine her future.
Terrible things are soon to happen.
The Dark Lord’s return shall bring death and despair."
Betrayal. Trust. Death. Despair.
These four words haunted Anne’s mind, fraying her nerves.
And then, an image began to surface in her thoughts, a decaying, black, ever-shifting form, taunting her growing panic.
Her anxiety intensified. Her heart pounded. Her palms began to sweat. She gasped for breath, unable to stop the thought of that floating black figure, which only grew clearer.
Suddenly, she bolted, racing down into the castle’s lower levels, straight to the kitchen corridor. She scratched the pear in the portrait, yanked the handle, and shoved the door open.
Ignoring the surprised and excited greetings from the house-elves, she ran to a massive water barrel and dunked her entire head in.
The freezing water shocked her brain awake. The black shape in her mind slowly began to fade.
With a splash, Anne pulled her head out and gasped for air.
Dobby hurried over with several house-elves, offering a large clean towel and a steaming pot of tea.
"Ah, thank you," Anne said, taking the towel. She dried her face and hair and poured herself a cup of tea.
Cradling the warm cup, Anne began to feel more grounded. The house-elves formed a little circle around her, looking up with worried eyes.
"Is Miss Reeve not happy?" one asked.
"Can Six-Six help? Six-Six is always happy to help Miss Reeve, "
"And me!" "I can help too!" More house-elves eagerly raised their hands.
Anne forced a small smile. "Thank you. Really. But I think this is something only I can deal with, it’s… complicated."
"Then if you need help next time, call Six-Six!"
"Me too!" came another round of enthusiastic offers.
"I will. Thank you. Really," Anne said softly, looking at them.
Most of the elves dispersed to clean up after lunch, but Dobby stayed behind. He watched as Anne sat slumped against the wall, tea in hand, staring off into space.
He walked over and quietly refilled her cup.
"Thanks," Anne mumbled.
Dobby shook his head. "Dobby knows Miss Reeve is troubled by something. But Dobby won’t ask. Dobby is a free elf. Dobby knows now is not the time to ask."
They sat in silence for a while. Whenever her tea cooled, Dobby replaced it with a fresh, hot one.
"Ahh…" Anne managed a weak smile, handing her cup back. "Thanks, Dobby. I need to get to class now."
Dobby nodded, his long ears swaying. "Goodbye, Miss Reeve."
Anne did fine in Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon, much better than she had in the morning.
After a quiet dinner, she returned to the Slytherin dormitory and started working on her History of Magic assignment. But halfway through, something in her left pocket began to heat up.
Startled, she reached in and pulled out a Galleon. The numbers on the coin’s edge were shifting, it now read: Tomorrow, 8 p.m.
So soon? Well, that was fine.
Anne glanced at her half-finished History essay, put the coin away, and pushed the parchment aside. She pulled out a stack of blank parchment from her desk.
After thinking for a moment, she began to write:
Applications and Defenses in Dark Magic Using Herbs,
Common Antidote Analysis,
Spells and Symptoms of Minor to Major Curses,
Counterspell Types and Their Incantations.
She paused, then wrote the term Mirror-Reversal Shield Charm on a fresh sheet.
By the time it was 11 p.m., Fanny was getting ready for bed and noticed Anne still scribbling away.
"Anne, you’re not going to sleep yet? Still doing homework?"
"Not really. You go ahead, I’ll sleep soon," Anne replied without looking up.
"Okay then…" Fanny climbed into bed.
But Anne kept writing until 3 a.m. When she finally looked up and saw the time, she froze, then quietly put down her quill.
She tiptoed to the bathroom, washed her face with warm water, changed into her pajamas, and extinguished the candle with a flick of her wand.
She crawled into bed and hugged her blanket tightly, staring at the bed curtains for a long time before finally closing her eyes.
It took her ages to fall asleep, and when she finally did,
The nightmare began.
First, she found herself running through a narrow, damp alleyway made of stone. Thick moss covered both walls and the uneven path. The alley stretched on endlessly, dark and silent. Sometimes she slipped and fell, but every time she scrambled up again, the darkness behind her was somehow worse than what lay ahead.
Then she plunged into a bizarre world, a blend of two-dimensional and three-dimensional space, where strange creatures tugged at her body. She stretched, flattened, tore apart like putty,
Next, she was in a classroom. Surrounded by figures wearing blue-and-white tracksuits, all with blurred faces. Above the blackboard hung a banner that read:
"Study Hard and Make Progress Every Day."
A man in a black suit walked in, slapped a book onto the desk, and handed a thick stack of papers to one of the blurry students. "Distribute these. Class is starting."
"Stand up!" someone in the front row barked.
All the blurry figures rose. Anne hesitated, then stood too.
"Good morning, class," said the man at the front.
"Good morning, teacher," they all replied in unison.
"Sit down."
"Now then," the man said. "Top score this time goes to Anne. Stand up, please."
Dozens of blurred faces turned to look at Anne.
"Anne? Is that me?" Anne murmured.
"Anne, are you going to stand up or not?" the man’s voice suddenly darkened, becoming threatening.
Anne glanced around, confused, and slowly rose to her feet.
"Who are you?" the man suddenly appeared in front of her, floating. "Who are you?"
"Who are you?" echoed the blurry people.
"Me? I’m Anne?" she shook her head. "No, wait. I’m Anne?"
"Anne? Hah!" The man burst into laughter. "You’re not. You’ve never been my daughter, not once."
"She’s not Anne, "
"Who’s Anne?"
"Who do you love?"
"You’re unworthy, "
"Disruption, all I see is disruption, "
"It’s all your fault, "
"Death and despair, aren’t they just delicious?"
"How do you solve this equation?"
"How many drops of Luda Juice in the test tube?"
"She deserved the beating."
"She came from an orphanage. No parents, "
"Rip. I want to rip, "
The room darkened. Blue and white turned to grey, then black, then to blood-blue.
All the figures crowded around Anne, monstrous and grotesque. Some grew jagged mouths full of fangs. Others had nothing but black, pupil-less eyes.
The noise swelled. Confusion, terror, and despair surged in Anne’s chest.
She was utterly overwhelmed.
