The Staff of Dreams

Confusion creased Harry’s face as, once more, he walked the halls of his alma mater. Hogwarts hadn’t changed in the twenty years since he had left it. It had been just about two decades since the darkest of evil wizards, Voldemort, had tried and failed to take over the wizarding world and damages to Europe had been heavy and extensive. Though for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reconstruction took only a few months after the wicked man’s death as all of the wizarding community gathered to restore one of the most important institutions in Europe.

But now, many years later, Harry stood before the entrance to Gryffindor Tower waiting for the familiar fat lady to ask for the password to allow him entry. Instead the portrait swung open for him without question, making his skin tingle with warning and his stomach twist into knots. He crawled through the entrance and found himself in the cozy common room, one of his favorite places from his childhood. Red and gold banners covered the walls in places that weren’t covered in paintings and the overstuffed armchairs near the fire looked as comfortable and inviting as they always had. Despite the large fire crackling in the fireplace, Harry shivered and goose bumps rose on his flesh as he felt a sharp pain in his forehead.

“Harry! I’ve been calling to you for ages!” A portrait on the wall spoke, waving the young man over excitedly. As he approached he recognized the face as that of Godric Gryffindor, one of the four founders of the school, as the one calling him over. Harry had always thought that his founder had a proud, almost arrogant look to his features and was surprised to see him pale with worry, fear, and possibly a hint of shame.

“You’ve been calling me?” Harry asked as he rubbed the lightning shaped scar on his forehead, willing away the pain. “What’s going on?” Confusion continued to muddle Harry’s thoughts. He still couldn’t figure out how he’d gotten back to Hogwarts.[br /]
Godric smiled sadly, “I am sorry Harry, but an exchange had to be made.” The founder of Gryffindor house flicked his wand. Suddenly Harry found himself standing next to the Hogwarts founder in the painting as pain ripped through his head and he heard a high, menacing laugh. Forcing his eyes open he saw Lord Voldemort smiling at him through a square window into the common room. Harry pulled his wand from beneath his cloak and tried to jinx the Dark Lord, but only red sparks shot from the end. Voldemort grinned maliciously and moved towards the overstuffed chairs near the fireplace- they were no longer empty. Harry’s eldest son James lay unconscious, unable to defend himself as Voldemort drew nearer.

Harry tried to jump through the window back into the common room, but an invisible barrier kept him locked inside the painting and unable to save his son. “What have you done?” He yelled at Gryffindor as he pounded the gilt frame, his heart thundering in his ears. He tried every spell he could think of to set him free but his wand was useless to break whatever curse had been brought upon him. The sound of horse-hooves drew his attention as the subject of another painting entered his. Sir Cardigan dismounted his short, fat pony and fell to the ground, his armor clanking noisily as he hit. Harry was trapped in a painting. This realization hit him so hard he nearly lost his footing and fell to his knees. “It is no good, Sir Knight,” the clumsy knight said as he approached Harry, “this time, he has won.” Harry watched in horror as Voldemort raised his wand to his eldest son and screamed as a jet of green light shot from the end of it, knowing all too well what curse was being used.

Harry Potter woke up covered in sweat and tears. Giving little thought to his wife Ginny who lay tossing and turning in the bed beside him, he raced from their room and down the hall to the room his two sons shared. From the flickering light of a candle he saw his son’s chest rise and fall as he slept soundlessly in his bed. Harry sat for a few minutes, taking in the angelic expression that only appeared when his son was asleep and let reality sink into his confused thoughts. When he was sure that his child would continue breathing in his absence, Harry checked each room in the house carefully, ending in the kitchen where the family owl was nestled warmly for the night. “Sorry Skitz,” he said as he gently pet the creature’s head, “I’m going to need you to make a run tonight.” Writing a hurried note to his childhood friends, Ron and Hermione, Harry sent his owl off and returned to his bed, though he would find no further rest that night.

The next afternoon Harry made his way to London, fighting the chill of the wind and rain as he walked up Charring Cross Road and gazed upon the squeaky wooden sign that identified his destination: the Leaky Cauldron. Watching as people walked around the building without paying it the slightest attention, Harry continued to be amazed that the world of non-magical people, called muggles, and that of the wizards ran parallel to each other- one not knowing of the other, and the other striving to keep it that way. Being in the wizard version of muggle law enforcement as an Auror, it always astounded him the lengths muggles went through to ignore the magic around them.

Shaking the rain from his coat when he entered, Harry let his eyes adjust to the dimly lit lounge where a number of witches and wizards had made refuge from the weather. Spindly tables and chairs were scattered throughout the room and two or three fireplaces were keeping the room warm and lit, as well as sparking green and spitting out the random witch or wizard who preferred the use of the Floo Network in their travels. The Floo Network connected various fireplaces all over the world via magic for travel and communication purposes.

Weaving his way through the crowd, Harry approached the bar, “Afternoon Raymond.” he said to the barkeep. Raymond was ten or fifteen years Harry’s senior and his long grey beard was a testament to his age. His father, Tom, had run the bar when Harry had first come to visit the wizarding world so many years prior and Harry held a special place in his heart for the hazy bar that was a refuge and escape so often in his childhood. “Can I get three butterbeers?” Before Harry finished his sentence Raymond was digging beneath the bar and pulling out three brown bottles frosted in ice. Handing over some knuts Harry took the drinks and found a small table in the back of the room where he would await his friends. He was halfway through his butterbeer and giving serious consideration to a fire whiskey when two of his favorite people walked through the front door, arguing as always.

“I did not confund that officer!” Ron insisted, acting completely appalled at the very suggestion of doing such a thing. His red hair and freckles were just as prominent as they always were.

Hermione rolled her eyes as she folded her umbrella, “Really, Ron?” she insisted. “I just thought it was odd that you hit his car and he didn’t see the need to give you a ticket.” Hermione’s hair was rebellious as always and she wore a stern look on her face that clearly disapproved of her husband’s behavior.

Ron looked slightly shamefaced and quickly found a distraction as his eyes raked the crowd, “Oh look, there’s Harry!” he said with a wave. Taking his wife’s hand, Ron led Hermione through the maze of tables and travelers to where Harry sat.

The next few minutes were filled with talk of quidditch, work, and family. The dark thoughts that had plagued Harry since his dream disappeared as he and his friends spent time filling the others in on the small, meaningless details that make life worth living, but soon all news was told and the three friends sipped quietly on their drinks in comfortable silence. Finally, when Ron was noisily finishing off his drink, Hermione turned to Harry, “So what’s going on, Harry?” she asked pointedly. “We don’t get midnight owls for secretive meetings very often; it’s almost like we’re back in school sneaking into the common room!”

Harry chuckled ironically, “You’re right Hermione, as always. It’s funny that you bring up school…” Taking a deep breath he repeated the details of his dream, focusing mostly on his scar and how it ached. “It hasn’t hurt like that since that day.” He said quietly.

Ron’s face was pale by the end of his friend’s telling. “It certainly can’t mean that…I mean, he died- we all saw it!”

Harry shook his head, “I don’t think that’s what it means, but that was the last time it hurt, twenty years ago.”

Hermione looked at Harry critically; he was sure she was going to call him crazy or insist that he had post-traumatic stress disorder or something, but instead she asked, “Did your scar hurt after you woke up?”

Harry thought about it, rubbing the mark on his head absentmindedly, “No, it didn’t. I had a headache, but not from that.”

“Oh, you’re fine then.” She said resolutely, finishing her drink. Harry looked at her quizzically and Hermione got that look of superior intelligence that he was so accustomed to, “Your scar hurt in your dream because you dreamt of Voldemort coming back. Your subconscious was reenacting what would happen if he actually returned, but that’s not what’s important. You said this happened at Hogwarts, didn’t you?” she asked sharply not giving him time to reply to her speculations.

Harry turned her words over in his mind, comparing them to his dream and nodded to agree. Though lost in his thoughts, Harry did not miss the look exchanged by husband and wife. “I hate it when you two do that.” He said with an exasperated smile. “What about Hogwarts?”

Hermione nodded and Ron played with the empty bottle in his hands, “’Mione and I, we had odd dreams last night too.” He said. “That’s neither here nor there, but what we thought was weird was that both of our dreams involved Hogwarts too. I dreamt that I was in the Forbidden Forest and Godric Gryffindor pulled out his sword and sent all of those daft spiders after me.” He shuddered at the memory.

“Yes and mine was that Gryffindor had convinced Professor McGonagall that I was the worst Arithmancy teacher in the history of the school and had her cast me out with all of the house elves throwing pots and food at me along the way.” Hermione explained, her brow furrowing in disapproval.

“Wait, you both said that Gryffindor instigated these things?” he asked keenly. “He was the one who trapped me in that painting!” He said thoughtfully. “I wonder who else is having dreams of Hogwarts founders.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out isn’t there?” Smiling knowingly, Hermione took a sip of her drink.

“I swear, if she says something about going to the library I’m convinced I’m dreaming again.” Ron teased playfully and dodged his wife as she batted at his arm as she often did.

“Oh Ron, that’s not what I was going to say at all.” Hermione shook her head in dismay. “I figured we should tell someone about this. I was going to suggest we tell McGonagall. Really, how would the library help us with this?” Hermione referred to the former head of Gryffindor house at Hogwarts and the now headmistress of the same school. Even though Hermione was now a peer to the older and wiser witch, she couldn’t break the habit of referring to her as one of her professors. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about if it’s just the three of us, but if anyone else is going to hear about something peculiar related to Hogwarts it would certainly be the headmistress don’t you think?”

“Good thinking, Hermione.” Ron patted his wife on her arm.

“As always.” Harry mused over the idea of talking to the headmistress of Hogwarts. Surely she would put his mind at ease in regards to his strange dream. But something deep within Harry, something he’d like to call instinct, told him that it was something more nefarious than a bad dream.

---

Malicia Maena shot up straight in her bed and caught her heavy breath. Her nightmare had felt so real that she couldn’t shake the fear it left lingering in her thoughts until nearly five minutes after she’d sat alert. Pushing her messy black hair out of her face she checked the time and realized she’d slept nearly half the day away. It wasn’t like her to sleep through the mornings, but she’d stayed up until the late hours putting the finishing touches on her latest project. The papers and manuscripts still lay around her as proof of her efforts.

Try as she might, as she spent the next hour waking up and cleaning up the mess around the cot she’d slept in, Malicia couldn’t forget the nightmare she’d had. It haunted her thoughts and distracted her enough that she nearly fell down the stairs that led into the shop she’d recently opened with a friend. Luna Lovegood was sitting at the counter at the far end of the room, reading a magazine upside down which came as no surprise to Malicia.

“Good morning Malicia.” The blond girl’s voice was light and seemed to float across the room. Malicia grunted in response and started to clear out the area in the office near the stairs so she could get to the fireplace. The store had only recently been opened so there was still much unpacking and decorating to be done before it was in working order. Malicia had left this task to her protégé since she’d had many other things on her mind.

Malicia had been obsessed with foreign magic, folklore, and the mysteries that faded into legend in many cultures all around the world since her youth. For years she’d traveled on her own exploring old myths and learning how other nations performed magic in different ways. Eventually she became the best known expert in her field. A few years prior she’d been approached by Luna Lovegood, a fellow enthusiast for the odd and mythical and had hired her on the spot. Since then the two had traveled the world together, published books and had their fair share of adventures.

More recently, they’d opened a store together that focused in tools for foreign magic use and books on legends and myths. They’d needed somewhere to settle down and to share the knowledge they’d obtained over the years prior. Malicia had set up the shop near the home she’d inherited when she’d turned seventeen from her deceased parents, but had chosen not to sleep in the place considering the level of cleaning that needed to be done.

“Did you not sleep well either?” Luna put down her magazine and adjusted the horn rimmed glasses she wore on her face. Some shuffling was heard in the office and then Malicia appeared once again in the doorway.

“Either?” Curiously, Malicia watched her friend at the counter.

“I had a terrible nightmare early in the night. After I awoke I couldn’t find rest so I started to unpack a bit. I tried to be quiet, I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No you didn’t wake me. What was your nightmare? If you don’t mind me asking that is…” Malicia drifted off, leaning heavily against the frame of the door. Luna approached Malicia and leaned against one of the nearby tables that had been set up to display some artifacts from the Americas used for witchcraft in the south.

“Not at all. It was quite peculiar. I’m used to having strange dreams but not nightmares so to speak. I was on the brink of proving the existence of nargles when Rowena Ravenclaw found me and disproved everything I believed in. She publically defrauded me and my father.” Luna shook her head in dismay.

“Rowena?” Malicia cocked an eyebrow curiously and considered her own dream. Salazar Slytherin, the head of the house she’d been in when she’d attended Hogwarts had made an appearance as well.

“Does that ring a bell?” Luna seemed to see the recognition behind Malicia’s eyes. Malicia had no idea how she did it, but Luna was the most perceptive person she’d ever met in her life, not to mention one of the most brutally honest. “Did your dream relate to Hogwarts, too?”

“I don’t think I said I had a bad dream but yes, actually, Slytherin was there.” Malicia nodded and felt the sting of paranoia overwhelm her. There were many different myths and legends in relation to the dream world but only a handful of them came to mind and none of them boded well for her and her friend.

“I was contacted this morning by Professor McGonagall at Hogwarts. She’s on alert for all those who have had dreams involving the four founders of the school. Perhaps you should tell her about what you dreamt since you are clearly not going to tell me.” Luna smiled despite her words. She felt no offense having been left out of the information but she was merely filling Malicia in.

“So this is more widespread than just us or the town?” Malicia considered the implications and her stomach turned uneasily.

“I know what you’re thinking. I’ve been looking it up in the books and if anything jumps out at me you will be the first person I tell.”

“I’m always the first person you tell, Luna.” Malicia couldn’t help but smile at her friend. Luna nodded her head.

“I can tell you want to go do something else, Malicia so I’ll leave you to your business. I think you should let McGonagall at least know you had the dream. I can send an owl out for you if you like.” Luna offered, meandering slowly through the store and back toward the front desk.

“I’ll be there at the end of the week remember? I’ll tell her when I arrive at the school.”

“That’s right, you’ll be Professor Maena.” Luna smiled thoughtfully. “I will find every occasion to come and visit.”

“Good.” Malicia watched Luna as she picked her magazine back up and continued to read. Once she was certain the peculiar girl was done speaking with her she headed back into the office and started to push piles of books and supplies out of the way of the fireplace. She sat down in the black and silver armchair that she’d purchased two of when she’d opened the shop and stared into the empty fireplace. Raising her wand, Malicia pointed it toward the kindling within the fireplace and watched the fire roar to life in front of her.

In her dream she’d been spending the summer with her childhood friend Lia, as she often did. They’d been preparing to return to Hogwarts at the beginning of autumn and when they’d gotten to the Leaky Cauldron she’d been denied entrance. Her parents, long dead, had appeared and had told her she had no magical blood in her body and that she didn’t deserve to be a witch. Lia had walked past her and through the back door that would lead her to Diagon Alley. Crippled with fear at the idea of returning to a muggle life she ran past her parents and ran into none other than Salazar Slytherin. He’d told her she’d been given a chance to be a great witch and had thrown it away to mingle with half-bloods and mudbloods. He told her she was a failure at being a witch and broke her wand right in front of her.

The sickening feeling of failure made Malicia run cold, as she had been when she’d woken up. Why would she dream such a thing? Clearly she was a very successful witch and had always been meant for the wizarding world, so why would her subconscious suddenly prey on her fears? Turning it over in her mind she then thought of Lia.

Lia had been in Ravenclaw and Malicia in Slytherin, the two had been an unlikely pair from the moment they met. But Malicia had been a peculiar Slytherin in general, having had many friends in many different houses. Many times, Malicia had been singled out by those in her house for having such associations. But after schooling had finished, Voldemort had fallen, and life had changed, Malicia and Lia had become estranged.

They exchanged the occasional owl, but had done little else. Eventually the occasional owl had turned into cards and photos during the holidays. Childhood friends tended to grow apart over the years. In fact, Malicia rarely spoke to any of her old school friends. The only person she really spoke to most days was Luna. They were too swept up in their work to do much else.

Reaching for a pot filled with what seemed like dirt, Malicia held it in her lap and considered what she was going to do next. Would it be too out of the blue to contact Lia to see how she was? Would her friend even be at her old home in New Zealand? It was possible that the old fireplace wasn’t even hooked up to the Floo Network any longer.

Deciding she had very little to lose, Malicia threw a pinch of the powder into the fire which roared then changed colors and started to glow a bright green. Sparks shot out occasionally and once the flames had calmed down, Malicia got off of her chair. Kneeling next to the fire she took a deep breath and contemplated what needed to be done. With a wave of her wand, the door to her office closed and she stuck her head into the fire. The flames harmlessly touched her face and hair while she prepared to have a very long distance conversation with a very old friend.

“Lia Black’s living room, New Zealand.”

---

Lia Black had spent most of her morning in the most un-magical way possible: hiking with her muggle parents. While Scotland was home throughout the year, her true home was New Zealand. Her family lived in the suburbs of Lower Hutt, just outside of Wellington and had been in the area for thirty years. Though they moved far away, Lia was still admitted to Hogwarts when she was eleven and had managed to go to a wizarding school and work in the wizarding world without her parents knowing that she was a witch.

While on summer holiday Lia’s life was completely non-magical, she even lived with her parents, though she did add a little bit to their house to accommodate her secret life. When she was a teenager she had convinced them to allow her to have the attic crawl space as her ‘safe place’, where she could go to get away from everything. Once she was of age, an extension charm made the space big enough to be comfortable and a few muggle repelling charms on the door made it a safe place for her to store her magical life.

Trying to combine her two worlds had always been difficult, but she seemed to manage well. For a time she tried working with those muggle-born in New Zealand, trying to accustom them and their parents to the magical life they were about to lead, but her parents began noticing the strange birds that kept flying around the house and started asking questions. Lia quickly found a new position. She started a new job as a tutor for Squibs, people from magical families born without magical abilities, trying to help them mingle with the muggle world and see that they could have a good, happy life without magic. She helped them learn skills and trades and taught them things that most people tended to overlook, like how to dress and manage muggle money, and formed connections to help them find and keep good jobs.

When her parents began noticing the strangely dressed people that visited her shop, she sold it and found a new position as a liaison with the magical creatures in the country, focusing primarily on the centaurs. She had always gotten along with them well due to her affinity at reading the stars, but again her parents started noticing things. She was about at the end of her rope when she heard that old Professor Sinistra was retiring. Before she could even draft a letter to Professor McGonagall to appeal for the job, a letter arrived offering it to her. Life had become much more manageable since the move to Scotland, and it was worth it. Now she could enjoy her time in the wizard world and continue to grow and learn there, but still have time with her family over the summer break without having to worry about her clientele.

As her family walked along the cliffs overlooking the sea, something seemed to settle on Lia’s shoulders. She couldn’t figure out what, but something was off. When the sun started to set, Lia drove her parents back home and decided to go to bed early, thinking that whatever was troubling her might vanish as she dreamt. She was wrong. Waking with a shudder, she sat on her bed and glanced at the clock- it was just before midnight and she had slept only a few hours, “Ugh, no wonder I’m still exhausted.” She mumbled to herself. She had just decided to try to go back to sleep when she heard someone say her name from downstairs.

Thinking that her dad was cheating on his diet again, Lia got up from bed to catch him in the act. When she was halfway down the stairs she heard someone call out again, but this time it was coming from her living room, and most definitely not her father; it was a woman’s voice. Grabbing an umbrella from the rack near the door, Lia cautiously opened the sliding door that led to the living room and jumped inside, hoping to scare whoever dared brake into her home. She did not expect to see a head floating in her fireplace.

Malicia saw Lia approach out of the corner of her eye, “What are you doing with that?” she asked, nodding to the umbrella.

Lia looked flabbergasted as she stared at the green flames that surrounded her childhood friend’s head. She had not seen Malicia in years but there was no doubting that this head belonged to her. “I thought you were a burglar.” She said dumbly as she continued to stare.

“Well put it down and come over here, I can’t see you properly. I feel like I’m going cross eyed with you standing off to the side there.”

Snapped out of her trance-like state, Lia quickly returned the umbrella and slid the doors shut to the living room. “Sorry, I just woke up and I’m still not all here. How are you Mal?” she asked as she sat cross-legged before the fire.

“Right, time change,” Malicia said, “I forgot about that.”

Lia shrugged. “It’s okay, I was up anyway. It’s funny that you should be here right now actually, I just had a dream with you in it.”

Malicia looked at her friend intently, “What happened?” she asked sharply.

Lia looked at her friend, slightly confused at the intensity she showed but decided to comply; Malicia had always been intense about things that most people didn’t pay attention to. “We were young, probably third or fourth year, and walking through the Forbidden Forest with the centaurs. Some of the details are a little fuzzy, but when we walked back out of the forest, we weren’t on Hogwarts grounds anymore; we were here, in New Zealand. My parents came out of the house and saw the centaurs and freaked out. When I got them calmed down and told them about Hogwarts and wizards and explained all of the weird things that had always happened around me, they told me I was a conniving liar and that they wanted nothing to do with me. I ran after them crying, telling them I would denounce the wizarding world but they wouldn’t even look at me. When I turned to go back, Rowena Ravenclaw was standing between me and you and the forest. She snapped my wand for being willing to turn my back on our world and condemned me to be a child lost between two worlds, never having a real home…” Feeling the chill of that rejection again, Lia hugged herself, temporarily forgetting that Malicia was with her.

“Ravenclaw was there?” Malicia asked, calling Lia back to reality.

“Yeah, I thought that was weird too, but why the sudden interest?”

“Apparently you aren’t the only one dreaming about Hogwarts.” Reluctantly, Malicia relayed her dream, emphasizing Slytherin’s presence. “When I woke up, Luna, my business partner, told me that McGonagall had contacted her and told her that if she heard of anyone having strange dreams that she wanted to know. This is affecting a lot of people.”

Lia digested the information in silence for a few minutes, turning the new details over in her mind, trying to figure out what it all meant but no epiphanies came. “Maybe I should head back to town early and have a talk with Professor McGonagall. I wasn’t going to leave for a few more days, but maybe it would be a good idea to cut my vacation short.”

“I was going to have a talk with her when I got to Hogwarts as well.”

Lia looked at her quizzically, “You’re going to Hogwarts?”

“I’m going to be starting a new class, Foreign Magic. Minerva contacted me a few months ago.”

Lia looked speculatively, “That old coot, she’s calling in all her people. I’m not big on coincidence; she’s had to have known something was going on.” Suddenly Lia grinned, “It’s going to be great tearing apart that school again with you there; we can wreak havoc like we used to!” Malicia grinned and was about to respond when Lia heard the squeak of the stairs. Her face paled as remembrances of the dream still clung to her, “Crap, someone’s awake.”

“You should go get your umbrella.” Malicia smirked.

Lia gave her a tired smile, “Yeah, it worked so well the last time. How are you getting to Hogwarts next week?”

“The Express, for old time’s sake.”

Lia heard mumbling in the foyer and quickly stood, “I’ll be up in a few days, probably at the Leaky Cauldron and I’ll catch the train with you. I’ll send an owl when I’m back in town.”

The sliding door scraped against the floor and Malicia saw the slightly panicked look on her friend’s face, “I’ll talk to you later.” She said before disappeared with a ‘pop’.

Lia turned and saw her father standing in the door, a piece of pie sitting on a plate in one hand with his fork hovering halfway to his mouth, cherries juice dripping silently onto the floor. Putting on a shaking smile she said, “Hey Dad, what are you doing up?”

The fork clattered onto the plate as Lia’s father pointed soundlessly to the fireplace. “What was that?” He asked, his voice husky.

Lia gave him a confused expression, “What was what?” she asked kindly.

“There was something, someone, in the fireplace! She looked like your old school friend Mal…”

Lia chuckled nervously and took his arm, leading him out of the room, “Oh Dad, I haven’t heard from Mal in years! You must have just been dreaming.”

Once she had convinced her dad that he was partially crazy, she sent him to bed and ran to her room and began packing for her journey. The sun was barely over the horizon when Lia came downstairs, dressed in her muggle best for the flight. Her mom, always an early riser, was shuffling about in the kitchen and looked surprised to see Lia surrounded with her luggage. “I thought you weren’t leaving until the end of the week!”

Lia helped herself to her mom’s eggs as she explained, “There’s been a problem at the school and they need me there early. I’m sorry Mom but I really can’t help it.”

Her mother looked at her sadly, she always missed her daughter’s company when she was gone. “Well, let me get dressed and I’ll take you to the airport at least.”

Lia quickly drank a glass of milk while shaking her head. Before she could explain a honk was heard from the front driveway. “I’ve already called a cab, I really can’t wait.”

Her mother was clearly miffed at this point and crossed her arms. “Were you going to run out on me and your father?” she demanded. “Well you had better call when you land, and we will be having a talk then too.” Lia gave her an apologetic hug and kiss before grabbing her bags and racing out the door. Her mother watched her go sadly before turning and stepping on something sticky that smelled strongly of cherries. “And you had better be able to tell me why there’s cherry pie filling on this floor!” She yelled out the door as Lia sped off for another year away.

---

After speaking to Lia, Malicia spent the afternoon digging through paperwork in her office and trying to settle into her new space, despite the fact that she’d leave it in a week’s time. No matter how she tried, something kept aching in her mind. How many people were having dreams involving the founders? What was the significance of them, if any? What powerful magic had been cast over the whole of the world to cause such a phenomenon?

“I know that look.” Luna’s ethereal voice startled Malicia so severely that she nearly leapt out of her chair and flung the stack of papers in her hand across the room. “Sorry, I’ll start wearing bells again.”

“You’re just a magical ninja.” Malicia shook the surprise off and offered her partner a smile. “Don’t worry about it. I was in the zone anyway, I wouldn’t have heard you if you had a squawking parrot on your shoulder.”

“Are you having a bad reaction to the Bertie Bott’s again?” Luna looked puzzled by Malicia’s statement. The dark haired woman chuckled and leaned her head back against the lining of her chair.

“You always have a knack for making me laugh, Luna.”

“I was being serious.”

“That’s why it’s funny.” Malicia got up from where she sat and placed a hand on Luna’s shoulder. “What do you need Luna?”

“I was going to tell you that you should go home.” Luna smiled, though she still seemed puzzled by Malicia’s behavior. Then again, both girls were quite peculiar so they had learned to overlook the smaller oddities about the other.

“Home? I’ve been staying upstairs.”

“I know you have been, but I think it’s time you go home.” Luna turned away from her friend. “I’ll bring dinner by later if you’re still up for it. Newt will be out of town for a few more days and it’s lonely after the store closes.” Malicia didn’t immediately respond. She’d avoided going home for weeks for a multitude of reasons, the biggest of such being that it didn’t feel like home. Of course, it had been her parents’ house but she felt more at home in the woods than in a place she could barely recall on the edges of her memory. The second foremost reason being that the place was in disarray from years of not being lived in so she would have to spend hours cleaning before the place was livable. “You’ve waited long enough.”

“I guess you’re right. But it’s so messy, Luna.” Malicia pouted out her bottom lip and slumped her shoulders in dismay.

“I’ll help you clean. Even with magic it’ll take a while but many hands make light work.”

“You’re full of clichés today.” Malicia stated simply but reached to grab her dark emerald green cloak to wrap around her shoulders. Even in the warmer weather she preferred to be covered. Hooking the silver snake shaped clasp on her shoulder she nodded toward the door. “What crazy thing is on the menu for tonight?”

“Something the muggles call Chinese take-out.” Luna smiled brightly. The two had taken to trying different varieties of muggle food from a town nearby out of curiosity. It was humorous because others in the town had grown curious seeing their different food at the store and had become regular patrons of the same restaurants nearby. Malicia was simply waiting for one of the local witches or wizards to start up a muggle restaurant of their own that would sell exclusively in the wizarding community.

“I do hope it’s better than the fast food you brought with you the other day. I’m pretty sure that burger is still bouncing around in the shed out back.” Malicia grimaced as she adjusted her cloak.

“I always bring a backup just in case, don’t worry.” Luna smiled knowingly. Malicia exchanged a few more pleasantries with her friend before she walked into the thick air of the evening. Clouds were gathering overhead, but there was little to no threat of rain. Walking slowly through the marketplace of the large wizarding town of Mirare, Malicia didn’t bother to look where she was going. She’d made the trip to the old house on the outskirts of town multiple times but had rarely spent more than a handful of minutes there.

Mirare was starting to close shop for the day. The business district was usually bustling all afternoon with witches and wizards both local and foreign shopping and mingling about. The local Inn had expanded threefold in the last year due to the increasing amount of visitors. It was the perfect place for Luna and Malicia to have opened their shop. About an hour outside of Cardiff in Wales, it was settled in the forest and hidden from muggles all about thanks to muggle repellant charms. If muggles got close to the town they’d suddenly recall something incredibly urgent they needed to do elsewhere.

Walking out of the business district, Malicia walked past the smaller homes, through a park and up a small hill where larger and older homes lay; in the darkest corner of the darkest street stood a graying, gloomy looking manor. Grimacing at the old building as she stood in front of the wrought iron gates in front of it Malicia looked longingly to the town that looked far more inviting in the setting sun than her home did.

All the building needed was a flash of lightning behind it to make it look haunted. The ghosts inside were not what Malicia feared, but the memories. She wasn’t sure whether she was more afraid of remembering the little bit of time she had with her parents during childhood or of not being able to remember any of it at all. The place felt strange to her and far too extravagant for her needs. But still, Malicia wanted to preserve the little bit of her parents that she had left. Opening the creaky and rusted gates, Malicia winced at the sound then started up the winding pathway through the overgrown foliage to the front door.

In the foyer Malicia reminded herself why she didn’t want to stay in the house again. The place was filled with boxes that were half falling apart and strewn helter-skelter all around. After her parents had died, their various belongings had been slowly transferred from around the world to their home and no rhyme or reason had been left to it. Walking out of the foyer and down the hall, Malicia waved her wand absentmindedly and the oil lamps around the room lit the hallway up brightly. Continuing through the hall and to a large room at the far end of the manor she entered the library. The fire roared to life as though it had never been extinguished in the first place. This had been the only room that Malicia had spent any time in since her return.

Her parents had been as obsessed with the strange and peculiar as she had always been. Malicia could only assume that’s where her fascination with other cultures had begun. The collections of books lining the walls from floor to ceiling in no particular order had invited Malicia on multiple occasions. But the unsettling feeling of the house had always sent her packing a few hours later and she’d never tried to take the books with her. For some reason, it felt wrong to take her parents things even though they were rightfully hers. Brushing her fingers against the dusty bookshelves, Malicia stopped short when she saw one of the shelves had been recently cleaned free of dust entirely. When had she done that? She didn’t remember cleaning anything in the house outside of the sitting room. Cocking her head curiously to the side, Malicia peered at the bindings of the books to see what was on the shelf.

Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when she read the title of the second to last book on the shelf. “Dreamers: The Window to the Human Spirit and a Pathway to the Heavens by Elias Grimstone. What are the odds?” Malicia pulled the heavy book off of the shelf and slipped into the armchair near the fire. A puff of dust emerged from the chair when she sat, resulting in a coughing fit. “Tergeo!” Malicia waved her wand between coughs. The dust dissipated and the chair puffed up, rid itself of dust, mire and cobwebs. It looked as though it had never been filthy at all.

Coughing still, Malicia made a face and muttered several nasty curses under her breath before glancing back down at the heavy book in her lap. She’d definitely have to make an attempt to clean before she went through anymore of the library to prevent another inhalation of dust. Opening the book, Malicia browsed through the pages, finding very little of any interest. The book seemed far more boring than she had expected it to be considering how significant the find had seemed. If it was so ordinary, what was this ache in the back of her thoughts telling her she was missing something big? Malicia closed the book and sighed heavily. Leaning her elbows on top of it she held her head in her hands and tried to consider what she was missing. Her nightmare was weighing heavily on her mind, but not what had occurred within it. Earlier it had bothered her that her fear of failure had manifested so nastily in her dream but now it bothered her that the dream had occurred at all. It was just too much coincidence for Malicia to dismiss.

Getting up to put the book away and start cleaning the other armchairs so that Luna wouldn’t suffocate when she arrived with their meal, Malicia cursed again when the book fell right out of her lap and onto the floor. Grumbling something about being too old for such nonsense, she sighed heavily and reached to pick up the book that had fallen open upside down.

Curiously, she turned the book over and stared at the page that had been opened. There was a very small excerpt on the Staff of Dreams. Reading over it, Malicia whispered the words out loud and knew this was what she had been looking for. This was the mystery that was hidden in the recesses of her mind from years past that she couldn’t put her finger on. “Said to be an artifact of a very powerful witch or wizard, The Staff of Dreams will only appear to those worthy of obtaining it. The road to possession of the staff is said to be harrowing and dangerous and little is known about the method. The only thing that is certain about this magical legend is that the bearer of the Staff wields dangerous and unknown powers. It is rumored that the effects of such a magical artifact can be felt throughout space and time.”

Malicia closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. Raising her wand she started to rid each of the bookshelves of dust so that anyone who looked at the books after her would have no idea which she had pulled out of the bookshelf to examine. Glancing around the room, Malicia suddenly felt paranoid. She’d known what the widespread epidemic of nightmares meant but had dismissed it before she’d even woken up properly that morning. Now that she’d thought about it a little longer she knew exactly what had happened.

Someone was after the staff. There were very few who knew of its existence and even fewer who had any idea how to obtain it. Malicia was one of those few. In her youth she had been obsessed with the staff and how to find it. Once she’d gotten older and a bit wiser, she’d realized the dangers that would befall her and her loved ones if she pursued such magic. Not wanting or needing such power, she’d abandoned her quest and her obsession and let sleeping dogs lie, so to speak. Smiling, she couldn’t help but think that Luna had rubbed off on her quite a bit; even her mind was functioning in a sea of clichés and metaphors.

But now someone else was after the staff and if they obtained it, who knew what hell they would unleash upon the world? Finishing up with her dusting of the shelves, Malicia left the room with the roaring fireplace and crept up the old creaky stairs in the grand hall of the manor. Once up the stairs she continued around the balcony of the room and up another flight of stairs at the opposite end of the room. She continued up the stairs and over the old musty carpets until she reached a lonely door at the end of a dark hallway. Holding her wand up, illuminating the hallway for her she stared at the door.

Through the door she would find there was no turning back. Was it really worth it? Reaching her hand to touch the doorknob, Malicia stopped and hesitated. There was a sound from somewhere below, the familiar creak of the front door and uncertain gallop of Luna Lovegood’s shoes against the floor. “Malicia, I brought dinner.” Her voice echoed through the hallway. Retracting her hand from the doorknob, Malicia considered telling Luna what she planned to do but immediately rejected the thought. Anyone who knew what she was up to would be in immediate danger. She didn’t know who she could trust or if her assumptions were even true. It could’ve been a different sort of magic entirely that had caused the widespread dreams. In the pit of her stomach, as she walked back through the winding hallways of the manor, Malicia knew that wasn’t true.

The only way to stop someone from obtaining the Staff of Dreams and wielding its unknown, but surely dangerous, power would be to get to it before them. As she arrived downstairs and shared the odd tasting muggle food with her business partner, Malicia continued to weigh her options. As the two women cleaned the library into the late hours of the night, she had nearly talked herself into it. By the time she was saying goodnight to Luna and locking the front door of her home, Malicia knew that before the night was over she would’ve begun the most dangerous adventure of her life.