Chaotic Memories

Ron's sudden rambling sent a chill down Harry's spine.

He slowed his pace and walked towards the empty lounge. He prepared to recall what he had dreamt of there.

As Harry gazed at the stars painted on the domed ceiling, he drifted into memories of the dream he had just had.

Everything was so realistic... There was one person he recognized, and two others he didn't... He frowned, focused his mind, and desperately tried to recall... A dimly lit church vaguely appeared before his eyes... Under the statue was an old man... an old man with a white beard, whose name he didn't know... He seemed to be related to Lucius Malfoy ... And there was a cold, shrill voice... It was Voldemort's voice.

Harry felt as if a block of ice had slid down his throat just thinking about that guy... Voldemort had broken into the church... wanting to know about a wand.

Then another familiar name appeared, one that Lupin had mentioned before— Fenrir Greyback.

Voldemort was about to make a move... when a majestic voice appeared out of thin air, along with a giant clock... the newly appeared wizard was dressed as a Muggle.

Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying his best to recall the person's appearance, but he couldn't... Could this really be a dream?

Because it's so strange. When that person said he was transforming, a long passage was interrupted... Why do I say interrupted...? Because the next second, he transformed into a strange, holy figure covered in full armor... and that passage clearly lasted for several seconds... Could time be passing by?

Then came a strong but brief pain, and the next second he seemed to have turned into a rat again... and the next second he was swallowed alive by a snake... Harry probably would never forget that sticky, dark feeling of being squeezed all over his body.

Then, the dream changed again. His body became supple, powerful, and agile, gliding through abandoned garbage heaps and across dark, cold stones... He slid along the ground, using his belly to move... The light was dim, but he could see the light emanating from the surrounding objects, some strange, vivid colors... He had become a snake!

But strangely enough, he was able to think.

The names Azkaban, Antonin Dolohov, and Draco's father's wand filled his muddled mind... and then he jolted awake... perhaps because his scar suddenly throbbed with pain.

Why did Voldemort regain his physical form?

Why does Fenrir Greyback's name appear in the conversation between Voldemort and that old man?

What kind of magic wand is that?

Why did even Voldemort want him? Was the mysterious wizard who appeared also interested in that wand?

Was that wand in Draco's father's hands?

Has Voldemort died again?

Why did he think of Azkaban?

Antonin Dolohov was the next assistant he was looking for, someone similar to Quirrell.

If that wand is really in Draco's father's hands, does that mean he's in danger?

Sigh, things are getting more and more chaotic.

Harry buried his face in his hands, trying to block out the view of the common room, desperately trying to immerse himself in the dimly lit church and the abandoned junkyard.

However, it's like trying to catch water with both hands; the more he tries to grasp the details, the faster they slip through his fingers...

All he knew was that Voldemort suddenly gained physical form, then died, and finally set his sights on Draco's father.

"Hello, Harry, are you alright?" Harry's heart skipped a beat, and he looked toward the source of the voice.

It's Helena!

She floated in mid-air, surrounded by stars in the dome of the circular room, just like the beautiful Chang'e from Ryan's stories.

"It's nothing, just a nightmare," Harry said, not telling the truth. He felt that telling Helena about it would make her think he was crazy.

Harry doesn't really care what others think of him, but it would be different if it were Helena.

At noon, while having lunch in the Great Hall.

Harry stopped Draco and pulled him to the Ravenclaw table.

"Antonin Dolohov?"

"I know him; he's my family's enemy."

"He killed my mother's two brothers and their families."

"He is in Azkaban now."

"Harry, why are you suddenly bringing this up?"

"And they even stopped Draco from joining them." Ron frowned, as if he had heard something disgusting.

Ron didn't really have a strong memory of what Antonin Dolohov had done, because his two uncles had been killed before he was born.

Moreover, their own mothers were unwilling to mention them, thus pretending that they were still alive.

However, he could see that, in the dead of night, his mother would occasionally gaze at a gold watch and weep.

Ron remembered the watch very clearly—its back was a little uneven, and there were no hands on the dial, only a few stars moving around.

"Well, I had a dream, but as you know, I have some inexplicable connection with Voldemort." Harry began to recount everything from his dream in fits and starts.

"If I heard correctly, Voldemort has regained his physical form somewhere we don't know?"

"Then why did he steal the Philosopher's Stone last school year?" Ron asked.

The reason he didn't question whether it was just a dream was because Harry didn't know Antonin Dolohov and had never heard of him. Harry's sudden mention of the name meant that the dream must be real.

"Perhaps he's only temporarily resurrected, just like when he possessed Quirrell's body?"

"Now I know why the name Fenrir Greyback came up in their conversation."

"He must have been possessed by Voldemort, and that old man recognized that," Draco guessed.

"Maybe so. But last school year, he could only stay in Quirrell's head, but in his dreams, he could take over a wizard's body. I think his powers are probably slowly recovering." Harry couldn't help but worry.

"Perhaps it was because he drained Quirrell's life force last school year that he regained some of his power."

"But didn't Voldemort die again in your dream?"

"Now it's just a snake in a junkyard."

"I think it will probably take him another ten years or so to recover," Ron said, frowning slightly before joking.

In his eyes, Voldemort would be quiet for a long time again.

"No, I don't think so."

"In the end, he thought of Antonin Dolohov."

"Dolohov is very old! And he's still in Azkaban."

"If Voldemort's plan really is more than ten years from now, I think Dolohov would have been dead by then."

"So—" Draco guessed, and Harry and Ron gasped.