Chapter 9
The Dreadful Happening
Matt was shocked at the news of a death at Hogwarts. Indeed, he stood awake in his bed several hours, wondering where the killer could be. And then came the memory of his dream. The people talking somewhere below could well be the sounds of the Great Hall. It now seemed beyond all doubt that at least one of his dreams was real. He pondered this information, and then was overrun by shame of not informing McGonagall of his dream. Had his decision not to do so… cost a persons life? Matt went to sleep, tormented by his thoughts, hoping that his dreams would be more welcoming then the last.
"Longbottom is dead, my lord" said the same black-robed man. "Excellent" a voice like ice responded. "And what of the child of the prophecy?" The black-robed faltered. "He lives" he eventually said. There was a moment's pause. "Perhaps, for the better. Killing him would have been quite difficult. I might have lost a trusted servant." The bodiless voice said. "Then I shall try again to kill him?" The cloaked figure asked. "No. Getting to him directly would be too difficult. The teachers will closely guard him now. We need to strike him where he is most vulnerable." "My lord?" The cloaked figure seemed puzzled. "His parents."
Matt woke up, afraid. Something was not right. He had a no clear memory of the dream, although he knew the same person who killed Longbottom was in it. No, something was definitely not right. But try as he might, he could not think of what it was. The sun was just starting to peak over the horizon. Matt poured himself a glass of water and sat by the window, drinking. "Dream Prophet?" Matt turned and saw James, looking right back. "What?" Matt asked. "Dream Prophet. They're dreams that tell the future. Believe me, you aren't the first to have them." Matt looked at him. "How could to tell I was having a, uh, 'Dream Prophet' dream?" James pointed at Matt's bed, which was in shambles. Sheets were everywhere, the pillow out of the pillowcase and lying on the floor, and part of the mattress slipping to the floor. "You woke me because you were shaking violently, then you went stiff and rigged quoting everything that happened in the dream. Believe me, you didn't sound like yourself." Matt looked startled. "I say what happened in my dream?" "Only in a whisper." Matt went and sat on his bed. "Don't tell anyone about this. They might think I'm crazy." Matt pleaded. So, what happened in my dream?" Matt asked him. "I can't remember it." James repeated the dream as he heard it. Matt rested his head on his hands. "Anyway, do you know who the child of the prophecy is?" James asked him. "I've, uh, got an idea of who it is." James looked surprised. "Who do you think it is?" "I think," Matt stopped for a second, wondering what James might think of this. "I think he's me" James looked at him. "It's not something to kid about, you know. This is serious stuff." "I'm not kidding! That's what the sorting hat called me." James looked at him for a second, then his eyes widened. "You're, you're telling the truth!" James stuttered. "Well, what is the child of the prophecy? Why am I so special?" Matt asked quickly. "Well, the child of the prophecy is born with special magic, that's why most thought it was Harry Potter. But he never defeated you-know-who." Matt was surprised. "What? I thought he did!" James shook his head. "No. He crippled him, and he's still hiding." A sudden thought occurred to James. "Matt, you should tell McGonagall about this. If you are the child of the prophecy, then you-know-who is probably going to use the 'The Dreadful Happening'." Matt was confused. "The what?" James looked for a way to explain. "It's like, uh… um…" James scratched his head, looking for the word. "What muggles call it, uh… Psychological Warfare I think. If he can't hurt or kill you right away, he'll hit you anyway he can." Matt thought about this, trying to think of a different way Voldemort could hurt him. "What? He'll play with my mind?" Matt asked. "Exactly. He'll try and make you feel as unsecured as possible, so that you can be easier to get to." Matt put his hand on his forehead. "Alright, just why would he want me." "Well, you're the one who's supposed to destroy him. But if he can make you join him, he'll do whatever it takes to make it happen. You're supposed to have powerful magic, you know." Matt had felt like a hammer had hit him in the face. "My god. You mean he's going to…" "Kill your parents." James finished for him.
Matts mind was spinning. He ran down into the common room and left the house all together. He didn't know what he was doing. All that was going on in his mind was to find a teacher, although he didn't even know how to do that. He didn't know where the teachers slept. He found himself wishing a teacher, even Snape or Filch, found him wandering the castle. "O'Brian? What are you doing out of your dormitory?" Matt turned to find Prof. Lupin. "Professor Lupin!" Matt ran to him. Matt told him everything he and James had discussed. Lupin took this indeed seriously. "O'Brian, please wait here. I need to get Professor McGonagall." Lupin had brought Matt to his office. Lupin left leaving Matt to his own thoughts. The time it took Lupin to return with Professor McGonagall seemed very short to Matt. Matt was constantly having the idea that nothing good could come out of this. "O'Brian, why didn't you tell us about your dreams, or about being the child of the prophecy earlier?" Prof. McGonagall asked. "Well, I thought my dreams were, well, just dreams. And about being the child of the prophecy, I just didn't know what the child of the prophecy was." Matt replied. Prof. McGonagall walked around the room. "Well, it does make sense. I now see why Dumbledore requested you go to this school instead of the American academy." See turned to face Matt. "Matt, we have sent owls to the American Ministry of Magic. We are hoping they arrive in time to stop you-know-who, but…" McGonagall hung her head. "Chances are he'll kill them. I'm sorry, Matt."
Matt spent the remaining hours till dawn in the dormitory. James had gone back to sleep in his absence. Matt was glad there might be some chance his parents would live, ignoring what Prof. McGonagall thought. He was horrified at the prospect of living in Britain for the rest of his life, to never see them alive again. Even thinking about it brought tears to his eyes. He couldn't recall sleeping those last few hours. At dawn he went down to breakfast as usual.
Matt sat down next to Lara at breakfast the next day. He had told her all about that one nights happenings, and she disagreed with going to find a teacher. "Matt, what if they sent a message to the American Ministry for nothing?" she had asked. Today, however, she hadn't brought up that. The Quidditch game was tomorrow, and all she could do was discuss tactics with Matt. "Well, she's been teaching us all of Slytherins moves. The one beater does this tricky little move that blasts the bludgers with tremendous force toward a player, and she says dodging it will…" A letter came down into Matt's breakfast. Matt's owl came and started eating Matt's food off his plate. Matt opened the letter. The sound in the Great Hall suddenly was no more. Matt went numb as he read:
To Matthew O'Brian,
On the night of November 7th there was an unfortunate incident at your place of residence. We regret to inform you that Mr. and Mrs. O'Brian have been killed along with wizards sent to protect them. You will remain in the custody of your Aunt Polly McNeasen unless specified by Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry.
Our sincere apologies,
Fredrick Hamilton
Department of Dark Wizard Disposal