Author's Notes: first weeks of the new semester really got me busy, not to mention lots of home works from them and organization things. Sorry for being late, but here I am to deliver another chapter.

Now, this chapter is originally around 9000 words long, but I decided to split it in two. Hopefully, the next chapter will come sooner since its already got some meat in it as I type this AN.

Big announcement in the end. Good luck reading this mess.

"That's good, you're still sick but your recovery was good, must be from your diligent consumption of the potion".

The nurse stops checking my throat. She was using a light spell from her wand to do so.

Finished, she places her wand on the table beside the bed I'm sitting on, and looks me over from head to toe. She asks,

"Anything you'd like to report other than the usual? Any new discomfort, pain, or general inconvenience?"

"Just my hand", I say, unconsciously rubbing it as I speak. "It hurts more and more, and it feels numb".

"How badly?"

"I can't do anything with it now, sharp pain at the slightest pressure. I have cold sweats from them. They hurt especially after I wake up".

I pause for a minute, casting my eyes to my hand.

"I have trouble concentrating on anything because of it, even sleeping".

The nurse says nothing and goes to her corner.

She opens a cabinet, revealing various medicinal herbs—traditional witch medicine—drugs, and medical equipment consisting of both traditional and modern equipment.

Without looking to me, she says,

"You shouldn't use it for anything. Give it a rest for a few days then see if it gets better or worse. For now, I'll give you some pills. It'll help with the pain if it's too much".

She comes back and places a jar of orange pills on my good hand.

The nurse then steps back and places her hands on her hips.

"So, anything else?"

I shake my head.

"No."

The nurse nods and goes to her desk, saying,

"Well you better get back then, it's getting late isn't it? Don't stay up too late, you're far from being fit—you still need lots rest. Try not to push yourself too hard with anything for a few days".

I silently play with the jar, feeling it on my hand. I stare blankly at it, and after a lengthy silence, I say,

"There's another thing".

This catches the nurse's attention, but she remains seated behind her desk.

I continue. "I have no idea if it's related at all or not, but I've been having these weird dreams ever since the accident".

The nurse questions this, asking

"Nightmares? Everyone has nightmares, more so those who're stressed about something".

"I'm not stressed, nor are they nightmares—they're something else".

I've regained the nurse's full attention again.

She leaves her desk and walks over to the bed I'm sitting on and sits beside me.

I've wanted to ask about this for a while now, but now that I have the opportunity to, I've no idea what to ask. The question is there in my head, but it's hard put it into words. It's more difficult still since I'm conscious at how awkward and outright weird for someone to ask this, and consciously I try to not make me sound like a fool by asking too stupid questions.

Hell, I'm starting to think I'm a fool for being worried about this in the first place.

What am I going to ask, even? What am I supposed to tell her? The truth? That I feel I'm in some bizarrely vivid dream where I feel like I'm someone else in them?

I'd just make myself look like a complete loony saying that.

Unconfident, I look to her and change my question.

"What's the significance of dreams for witches?"

The question might've come off as weird asked by any other person in this school, but not me. The nurse understands this just fine, she nods and says,

"We're not that different; dreams are dreams for us. They're just what our head makes up for us when we sleep".

I reply with nothing—no words nor gesture.

I look away and gaze down at the jar in my hand.

The nurse must've thought this as dissatisfaction, as she soon continues.

"Now there are instances where dreams have divination values but believe me or not, that's rare even among witches. I'm not the person you should be asking when it comes to this subject. Dreams and the visions they could potentially entail is in divination magic's realm of expertise. You should consult with your professor on this".

"Professor Ursula…"

The nurse nods. She stands up from the bed and says,

"Go now if you intend to talk to her, it's getting late".

I look to the clock, solitary in decorating the white and boring walls of the infirmary, its short hand pointing at the number five.

Going to Professor Ursula, that's a good idea.

Hopefully what I'm experiencing will make sense to her and she doesn't see me as a loony.

—

It's been two days since the incident. What my world was before and after somehow feels a world away and it's not because of my injury.

Something's different. Lately people around me are different. I couldn't see it, but I could feel everything changing around me: quiet distant stares that disperse once I turn around, whispers behind my back, and the subtle differences in people's behaviour and gesture when we talk; they're different from before.

These are what I've realized been happening around me—they did not go over my head.

Everyone in this school sees me differently now because they all now know I'm a first generation wizard now.

Before I could even be relieved of my physical injuries, this second wave of torment arrives to my shores.

Even now as I walk through the hallways alone, I couldn't feel relaxed. The entire atmosphere of this school changes for me with just the spreading of a rumour.

I try to bury this foreboding feeling. I tell myself that I'm being paranoid. I tell myself that this place is my own school, that there's no reason to feel alienated in it.

I shouldn't let these negative thoughts grow.

I need to find the professor, just that.

Don't think about any other stupid things and just be done with it.

Before I can reach the professor's room however, I'm stopped when I meet someone unexpected. I find Sucy. Or rather, she finds me.

I immediately fold my arms the moment she blocks my path. I'm not in the mood for disruptions. "Make it quick".

And quick to the point Sucy is. She takes out a folded piece of paper from her pocket and swings it around in front of my face.

"Since you're out yesterday, our team was one man short and we had troubles finishing up the assignment".

Sucy's brows arch and she pauses when she notices my scowl. Before she could even ask, I turn my face away from her and scoff, "I'm fine. Thanks for asking".

"You're the one who asked me to make it quick", Sucy says flatly.

"You're not supposed to take my words literally".

Her brows furrowed deeply, Sucy groans, "What are you, a girl?"

My scowl deepens and I feel a twitch on my eye. I can't make up any comeback—she got me there.

I click my tongue. "At least pretend you're worried".

"I was so concerned for your health", Sucy says, promptly not bothering to hide the sarcasm in her voice.

I snort at that.

Eventually my scowl fades, replaced by a frown that I try to hide from the girl. Words barely louder than a mumble, I break the silence that's starting to grow between us.

"By the way, Su…"

My words trail off as soon as it starts, confusing the pale girl. My eyes begin to shift uneasily across the corridor, anywhere but towards Sucy.

Sucy picks up on my uneasy behaviour, but she says nothing, instead waiting for me to come out of it myself on my own time. In some way I'm grateful of her apathy—I prefer it in some way. If now in front of me is someone like Akko or Jasminka, they would already barrage me with a ton of questions the moment I show uneasiness.

My eyes are planted firmly on my feet, unable to look anywhere close to the girl. Scratching the back of my head, I say, clearly at the beginning but turning to a mumble in the end, "I haven't said thanks, though. So thank you, for helping me".

I could only look at Sucy straight in the eyes for a split second before looking away again as a blush quickly forms on my cheeks.

I'm never good at this kind of things.

Sucy's eyes slightly widen for just a brief moment, but I notice it nonetheless. In some way, it's amusing every time I managed to surprise her like that. I even see it as a personal achievement considering how rarely she seems surprised by anything.

"Welcome", the girl says, her cool returning to her so quickly it felt like it's never gone in the first place.

Now that what needs to be said is said, there's no reason to linger on this topic anymore; it only brings back bad memories and worse the mood, if mine today isn't already terrible to begin with.

I'm quietly grateful that Sucy is quick to move the conversation elsewhere without being prompted to.

"If that's done, I'm to tell you we'll finish our assignment tonight." The pale witch says as she returns her paper to her pocket. "Try to ditch and you'll be found in a ditch".

"Rhymes, that's cute, Sucy".

Sucy shrugs. "Actually, Hannah was the one that said that to me, thought I'd share the good news with you".

A frown comes to me but I immediately supress it from showing. My silent groan also goes under the pale girl's attention.

That's right, Hannah's on my team. I'm to spend the night with one of the two persons responsible for spreading the rumour that I'm a first-generation wizard around the school.

I knew full well Hannah and Barbara are going to start spreading this information like wildfire the moment they found out about it, but why do I still feel hurt about it?

I thought I'd feel something more akin to anger for them, but turns out I feel… sad? Disappointed? Betrayed? Why would I even feel that? I've never expected anything good for neither of the two.

Between the two, I'd spend more time with Hannah but even then she's still far from what I'd call a friend. There's literally no reason for me to expect her or Barbara to treat me like a friend. So why do I still feel hurt of what they did?

Regardless of how I feel however, I'll be forced to meet Hannah later for our group assignment. Hard as it may be, I should take it in stride, just ignore her and be done with our group work as quick as possible—there's no need to mingle too long with her and risk her bugging me further.

I take a deep breath through my mouth before continuing. I'm considerably calmer, if not more sombre now.

"I'll see you tonight then?"

Sucy nods. "Just remember the ultimatum and you'll find yourself not lacking motivation".

—

This is the first time I've ever seen a professor's personal room, or step foot into it.

Professor Ursula's room is generously sized, shaped like an observatory, with numerous shelves lining the wall and stairs that lead to a small upper level, where a large window hangs there, providing a great view of the moon and stars outside.

I'm seated while the professor prepares tea.

After exchanging the proper pleasantries and going through the questions regarding my health, I talk about the reason for my visit.

"Consecutive dreams?" She asks in repeat.

She pauses pouring her tea to face me.

I start off hesitantly.

"Y-yes, I've experienced similar dreams twice now".

I feel absent, my mind elsewhere even now in front of someone else.

Professor Ursula catches my far off look and asks,

"Are you alright?"

I realize I haven't kept eye contact with the professor.

I face her again and blink before shaking my head,

"Nothing, I'm… fine. I just have lots going in my head".

Burying my last distracting thoughts, I clear my throat before continuing,

"A-anyway, aside from them being consecutive, they're also very vivid. It almost feels like I'm awake in them".

For a moment, my mouth hangs open but nothing comes out of it as I hesitate over what to say. It's a quick second decision. I purposely change my mind and hold the arguably weirdest part of my dream: that I feel like I'm someone else in those dreams. I feel like it's not the time yet to say such bizarre detail, least I'll make the professor think I'm talking pure nonsense. The hardest thing keeping me away from my answers is, perhaps, my unwillingness to even ask my questions out of fear that I'd sound unhinged.

I sigh unevenly.

Having averted my gaze, I return them to the professor and instead add,

"I came to you because I don't believe they're just dreams. And if I can, I'd like to know their meaning".

The professor hands a cup of tea to me. It's comfortably warm and smells very nice.

"You think they're not just dreams? What makes you think that?" She asks.

I bring the cup close to my lips and say,

"I… don't even know. I'm just listing some possible explanations for my odd series of dreams. I heard divinity magic can conjure some strange dreams, so here I am".

After a momentary pause, I add,

"I asked the nurse about it a bit, she told me that if I'm sure some divinity magic is related to these dreams, I should go to you".

"Well, what do you dream about?"

"People I don't know." I answer as Professor Ursula takes a sit in front of me. She patiently waits for me to continue on my own time. Unsure, my gaze escapes to my own reflection on my tea. "…but, I feel like I do know them".

This confuses the professor. She blinks and asks,

"Well, which one is it, then?"

Realizing how ambiguous I'm sounding, I race to correct myself,

"I-I know now, being awake and conscious, that I have no idea who they are. But when I was in my dreams I feel familiar of them, close to them even".

I chew on my lip as I suppress a grimace.

There it is. I said it: the part where I start to make no sense at all. Amazing how I made myself more ambiguous in my attempt to elaborate my earlier ambiguous statement.

It's difficult to explain what I'm going through since even I have no idea what I'm going through, so how do I hope the professor to understand something even I don't?

I'm aware that I may sound like an idiot asking these questions.

I swallow dryly. Forcing the nervousness out of me, I draw a quick breath in and say,

"Two girls, I remember seeing the same two girls twice in two of my dreams. I've never seen them in my life, but I feel like I recognize them".

The professor's response doesn't come for a long time and I don't blame her. I can imagine how confused she must be.

Gazing directly at me, the professor says,

"Well, maybe your dreams are weird because, well, they're just dreams. Illogical things happen. You might find yourself able to fly in your dreams and your brain won't even question that at all because, well, your brain is in a dream. Chances are those faces you see are not real people, they're just made up by your head. Maybe you're worrying about this too much".

My mouth opens, but seconds pass and I couldn't say a thing. No matter how much I want to argue, I can't find any worthwhile.

The professor lightly shrugs.

"They're called dreams for a reason".

Quietly, I bring the cup's mouth to my lip but don't drink.

"Just dreams, huh?" I mumble.

Honestly I feel disappointed of her answer; it wasn't anything specific, she probably had no idea what to say to me. I even get the idea that she's dismissing my worries entirely as nonsensical, hence her unspecific answer. She must be thinking that whatever nonsensical thing I'm experiencing isn't worthy of my worry, and hers as well.

However, I'm entirely proven wrong about that.

While she doesn't understand fully what I'm going through, that doesn't mean she isn't concerned for me.

Her not understanding what I'm going through doesn't stop her from worrying about me.

With a smile that I initially avoided looking, the professor declares softly,

"If anything serious happens, if anything does make you worried, I'm open to talk to anytime, okay?"

She says that with her warm smile that never left her lips, it's infectious and I know its genuine, it makes me feel better now knowing at least one person cares for my troubles. I can't believe I'd thought otherwise of her.

I might be staring too long at the professor.

She's already halfway through her tea when I finally snap out of my daze and stop staring at her. I drink as well, letting my worries slip for a moment, only focusing on the delicate taste of the tea and its warmth going down my throat.

Silence surrounds the two of us, the comfortable one, where none feels awkward about it. However, even though I look calm from the outside, I'm currently thinking hard on the professor's answers and what I'm going to say next.

I soon come to some kind of conclusion, a solution to my communication problem.

I shouldn't be here to find the meaning of my dreams—no one in this room, or daresay, in this academy could help me with that—instead, I should find a way to discern whether divinity magic was involved with my dreams or not; I need a method to know if my dreams are just dreams or if they mean something. That will guarantee a much better answer.

After the silence, the warm tea, and the professor's reassuring words, or simply because I've made found a better strategy, I feel more comfortable and confident asking my next question. I know what to ask this time.

I adjust my seat and lean forward towards the professor,

"If dreams could be more than dreams through divinity magic, how am I supposed to be sure my dreams are not?"

The professor gives me a lopsided grin as she studies me with raised brows in amusement. "You're insistent, aren't you?"

I feel my cheeks redden slightly. I try to cover it by bringing the cup to my mouth again.

"Just answer." I whisper hoarsely. "Also, you told me to not mind my dreams, but if I were to relax, if I were to drop this, I'd damn better be sure my dreams are nothing more than just dreams after all".

The professor nods as she proceeds to her answer.

"Dreams could be more than dreams if divinity magic, albeit a very, very advanced form of it, is involved". The professor says.

She stops to settle her cup to her thighs, before asking

"Do you feel like you've been involved with any sort of divinity magic prior to the dreams?"

My mind reels to the events of the days before, the professor generously gives me time to think. However, hard I try, I find no memory of being involved in any divinity magic. I'm never involved with that kind of magic in the first place since, like the professor just said, they're generally advanced.

"I'm sure I didn't".

"I'm sure you'd notice if you do, divinity magic is quite flashy, after all". The professor says.

She takes another sip of her tea before continuing.

"I suppose this should act as an assurance to my previous suggestion: if you're not sure that you've been involved with any divinity magic, then your dreams are as meaningless, in a manner of speaking, as common dreams, nothing to get worked up about. And if you're still unsure, just try and give it two or more days, see if your consecutive dreams still persist".

The professor ends the statement with a slim smile.

I nod. "Just wait. I can do that".

I figured this is it.

This is the end of the professor's answers. It isn't too bad.

I finally got some sort of satisfying answer.

Indeed, if I want to know whether these dreams are special, I just need to wait and see whether those two mysterious girls come to visit me again.

But that's when it occurred to me.

Those two girls in my dreams, they both wore Luna Nova uniforms.

Are they, perhaps, real persons?

Author's Notes: It's a heavy heart do I share this news that our beloved writer, RomanViking, has put an indefinite hiatus, permanent one even, on his internationally celebrated fanfic: Little Wizard Academia. I've been informed to share this news here even after his announcement on his own latest chapter's author's notes to spread the news further. 'Who knows someone here cares about him', was what I thought when I write this.

He's gone somewhere, but not out of this block; he's still alive and kicking, and most importantly, still writing.

Yes, RomanViking is still writing, only now he writes for another fandom: My Little Pony.

Details on his new MLP story and when it'll be published is better explained in Roman's own author's notes of his newest chapter. I suggest you read it if you need more information.

But worry not, RomanViking won't stop dipping his long Caucasian nose on the Little Witch Academia anytime soon. After a long discussion, he's agreed to supervise me in my endeavor in writing this fanfic; he's become my editor.

His first editorial feat as my editor was advising me to divide this chapter into two. Applaud him ladies and gentlemen. I think it's a good call.

And with this editor guy, you'll probably begin to find differences in writing styles in this chapter and the many next coming.

On the same note, I'm here to make an announcement that I'll perhaps soon change the general POV of this fanfic into a third person perspective. More details on this will come. If God wills the next chapter will already have this new perspective.

Do tell if this decision bothers you.

For three years RomanViking has wrote. For three years RomanViking has brought abomination after abomination into this world. For three years he's entertained us.

Yet RomanViking's soul, indeed, lives on in this fanfic, as its editor.

How poetic, RomanViking. A man as splendid and as fleeting as a bubble.