Hogwarts: Third Dark Lord

Everyone in the room stared in astonishment as Professor Trelawney circled around Wentworth, her eyes gleaming with an intensity that pierced even the thick lenses of her glasses.

"Oh, my! Dream divination! I never thought I'd live to see someone perform dream divination right before my eyes!"

"This first-year child—awakening such a gift during his very first class! Unbelievable! He's a born seer!"

"Perhaps his ancestors included a prophet? Hmm, quite possible!"

The students gaped at Professor Trelawney, who muttered incessantly, seemingly lost in her own excitement.

Suddenly, as if struck by inspiration, Professor Trelawney rushed to her desk. She returned moments later, clutching a small jar, and approached Wentworth.

"By Merlin's beard, with such talent, let me lend you a hand!"

The professor dipped her fingers into the jar and scooped out a tiny amount of powder-like substance with her fingernail. She gently blew it toward Wentworth.

"Professor Trelawney, what are you blowing at him?"

A curious student asked.

"Oh, it's powdered bone!"

Professor Trelawney replied nonchalantly.

Her words had barely left her lips when several students bolted from the room, gagging, while many others turned pale.

Seeing the commotion, Professor Trelawney hastily tried to explain, "Don't misunderstand! I didn't dig up graves or anything like that. This is from the bones of my great-great-grandmother, ground into powder!"

Her clarification only made matters worse; nearly all the students covered their mouths and fled the classroom, retching.

"My great-great-grandmother was a true Seer!"

Professor Trelawney added, looking slightly aggrieved.

Amid the chaos outside, Wentworth slept soundly. In his dream, he was indulging in a vibrant fantasy where Cassandra, dressed in witch's robes and holding a whip, approached him with a sly smile... (A thousand words omitted.)

Suddenly, the dream shifted. The dazzling scene dissolved into swirling mist, obscuring everything except a faint light in the distance.

Following the light, Wentworth found a middle-aged man tied to a chair, surrounded by three or four figures interrogating him.

Instinctively, Wentworth thought, Time to leave!

But just as he began to retreat, he caught a name—"Thomas Vole!"

Wentworth froze. Thomas Vole? Could it be Cassandra's father?

Gritting his teeth, he turned back to observe further. But when he looked again, the scene had changed once more.

Now Cassandra appeared nearby, bound and restrained by a massive hand emerging from the shadows, its owner obscured in darkness.

As Wentworth tried to inch closer for a better view, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder.

Every hair on his body stood on end. His blood seemed to freeze as he slowly turned to see a wild-haired woman, glasses perched on her nose, adorned with countless necklaces, grinning at him in an eerie manner.

Instinctively, Wentworth swung a punch, shrieking as he leaped to his feet. But as he prepared to flee, he realized the surroundings had become clear again.

Looking around, Wentworth found the scene oddly familiar, as if he'd been there just moments ago.

A pained groan brought his attention back to the woman he had just struck—Professor Trelawney, now sitting on the floor, clutching her face.

"Wentworth, you're awake?"

A voice came from behind him. Turning around, Wentworth was startled to see several pale-faced first-year Hufflepuff classmates standing there. If it weren't broad daylight, he might have screamed in terror.

Gradually, Wentworth realized he had merely fallen asleep in class and been dreaming. He exhaled deeply in relief.

"Professor Trelawney, what happened to you?"

One of the Hufflepuff students noticed the professor sitting on the floor and hurried over to help her up. Despite her eccentricity, she was still a Hogwarts professor, after all.

As Wentworth watched Trelawney being helped up, he glanced down at his own fist, groaning inwardly.

"Professor, I'm terribly sorry! Just now, I..."

He began to apologize but was interrupted by Trelawney.

"Don't say anything yet! First, answer me—just now, were you performing dream divination?"

She looked at him with eyes brimming with hope.

Caught off guard by the question, Wentworth hesitated before replying, "I was just asleep, dreaming. That's all, Professor Trelawney. It was wrong of me to sleep in class. I—"

Trelawney waved her hand, cutting him off again.

"If it were merely a dream, you wouldn't remember the details upon waking. Think carefully—can you recall every detail of what you saw? If you can, then it wasn't a dream. It was dream divination—a prophecy!"

As he met her intense gaze, Wentworth began to recollect. To his surprise, he could remember everything clearly: Cassandra bound by a giant hand, a man tied to a chair, Cassandra in witch's robes holding a whip...

Quickly regaining composure, Wentworth replied, "I still don't believe a simple dream can be a prophecy. Unless you can tell me when this so-called prophecy will come true!"

But Trelawney simply smiled mysteriously.

"You'll believe it. Some things can be avoided, but not escaped."

Wentworth stared back at her, matching her enigmatic smile with a mischievous grin.

"Professor Trelawney, perhaps I should get you a new pair of glasses?"

-----------------------

PLEASE SUPPORT ME ON PATREON!!!

Join here for advance chapters: PATREON.COM / PRIMALDEMON