Monday was a bit of a struggle for Harry – even the charmed pizza bites Professor Esposito provided for her History of Magic lecture weren't enough for him to completely keep his concentration. Although he didn't nod off, he was easily distracted and often struggled to follow along and take notes. Even Tallulah noticed Harry's uncharacteristic behavior and felt obligated to say something after everyone was dismissed from History.

"Are you all right, Harry?" she asked in a concerned tone. "You don't look like you've slept well – your hair's even shaggier than usual, and your eyes look dark and heavy."

Harry sighed. "I had a horrible dream last night… I dreamed that Peter Pettigrew held me hostage and forced me to look into this pool of reflection…" His voice trailed off, and it sounded like he began to choke up. "I saw my parents in the pool. I was able to talk to them – but for some reason I sounded as if I had never left Magical Britain. They told me how proud they were of me, and how much they missed me… but something didn't sound quite right. They told me to use the Orb to avenge their deaths, but I refused. The whole room shook like there was an earthquake, and the Orb somehow ended up in my hands… the man who held me hostage turned out to be Peter Pettigrew – the one who betrayed my parents - and he forced the Orb out of my hands, and began to torture me with it. It was so dreadful, and just as he was about to kill me with it, that's when I woke up…"

Tallulah tilted her head. "I'm not Sigmund Freud, but that's not a normal dream. And that's not the first time you've had a dream like that, is it?"

"No… I've had a few before, but none as intense as this one," admitted Harry in a low voice. "This one seemed to be so much more real… it's so bad that I'm almost afraid to fall asleep now."

"You need to talk to someone about this – the sooner, the better," advised Tallulah. "Someone a lot wiser than me, at least."

Harry nodded. "I wrote a note to Professor Lupin this morning at breakfast. I didn't put a lot of details in it, but I did jot as much as I can remember so we can discuss it in person later on. He told me to come to him the next time I had a dream like that."

"Yes, please talk to Professor Lupin – he's a good resource to have," agreed Tallulah. "I know he'll do whatever he can to help you. That man cares a great deal about you."

"I look up to him just like my uncle or my godfather," Harry murmured. "And while it's nice having another connection to my parents, he also doesn't play favorites. He cares about all his students. We're really lucky to have him."

A couple of minutes later, the three children took their seats across from Ana at the Horned Serpent table, who was holding a partially-eaten apple in one hand, and a paperback novel in the other. She scarcely noticed her friends through the commotion, until a sudden greeting interrupted her from her book.

"Hey there, Ana!"

Ana's slightly-startled expression changed to a friendly smile. "Oh, hiya Harry! How are you?"

"Ask me again when we're done for the day," chuckled Harry. He cocked his head and pointed at the book she was reading. "Grace Fisk of Caliphee… never heard of it. Is it any good?"

"It's a pretty fun read," Ana said. "It's one of my Christmas presents. It's a fantasy novel… it's about this ordinary girl named Grace from Dubuque, Iowa who inadvertently activates a portal in a treehouse across the street from the public library. Like total dunderheads, she and two of her classmates defy all common sense and enter the rift and end up on a magical world called Caliphee. Grace has no idea that she's a witch in this world, and she's not just any witch – she's been prophesied to harness the power of the Four Elements and defeat a world-conquering warlord named Belphegor, who siphons magical essence from the worlds he invades." She then burst into giggles. "Oh, and you're not going to believe this… Grace meets this apprentice witch named Anastasia – gee, what are the odds – and this Anastasia isn't just any witch; she's apprenticed to Archmage Aloysius, who's the head of the Conclave. That's the castle where all of Caliphee's magically-inclined beings reside."

Harry simply shook his head. "That sounds vaguely familiar…" Ana just shrugged, and continued with her novel, while Harry, Othniel and Tallulah started gnawing on their sandwiches and carrot sticks.

Harry was grateful that his only remaining class for the day was Defense Against the Dark Arts. He did his best to stay alert and focused during the lecture – partly out of respect to Professor Lupin, but partly due to Defense being his favorite class. When class ended, Professor Lupin asked Harry to stay behind for a moment. Harry told Othniel and Tallulah to go on without him, and that he'd catch up with them momentarily.

After the last of the students had left the lecture hall, Lupin shut the door and cast a muffliato spell to prevent any eavesdroppers from listening in. "I got your note this morning, Harry," he said. "It's been some time since you've last had such a vivid dream. Tell me, do they only occur at the castle? From what you've told me so far, they don't seem to be occurring when your with your aunt and uncle."

"The only ones I know of happen in the Horned Serpent tower," replied Harry. "To my knowledge, I've never had any of these nightmares anywhere else."

"Perhaps it's due to the proximity of the Orb," surmised Lupin. "It may be speaking to you subconsciously. I can't say for certain, as I'm neither clairvoyant nor an oneirocritic." His forehead wrinkled in thought. "I may have to consult my associate, Professor Haatali. In the meantime, I need for you to tell me as much as you can from last night's dream."

"I can do you one better," Harry said as he pulled out a folded parchment. "I wrote down everything I could shortly after waking up from my nightmare." He handed the paper to Lupin, who hummed in acknowledgement.

"That's interesting that it was Peter Pettigrew that was your captor. And he pulled his mask off before he cast the killing curse, is that right? What did he look like, in your dream?"

Harry tapped into his memory banks. "Well, he was kind of a squat man. He was not all that much taller than Ana or myself – I'd say he's at most, five feet, four inches – but he probably weighed close to both of us put together. His hair was reddish-brown and on the longer side. It's unkempt and it looked like there might be hints of grey – it also looked like he's got this bald spot which he tried to cover up. And his facial features… I guess you can kind of describe them as being rat-like, as he had yellow, scrunchy eyes, a prominent, pointy nose, and his front teeth were rather pointed and kind of protruded a bit. He's not at all handsome like you, Roger, or Sirius, that's for sure."

Lupin nodded, clearly impressed that Harry was able to describe his former friend in such detail despite never formally meeting him. "Yes, that does sound like Peter. Truth be told, he was rather hard to look at even ten years ago, even though none of us would ever tell him."

"So what does this mean, then?" asked Harry. "I've never met Peter before in my life, but if he looks like how you remember him… it's more than mere coincidence, wouldn't you think?"

"It means," chuckled Lupin, "that you need to be patient. I'll research what I can, and I'll make it a point to speak with Professor Haatali to get his opinion on the matter. Chances are, you won't have another dream like that tonight, but I can provide a sleeping draught if you'd feel better taking one. Also, let me know if the frequency of these strange dreams increases significantly."

"All right," sighed Harry. "How long d'you think it'll be before you get back with me?"

"As long as it takes," Lupin replied with a small shrug. "Probably a few days. Professor Haatali may ask to see you as well. In the meantime, if you continue to experience these nightmares, do exactly as you did last night and write everything down that you can remember."

"Will do," agreed Harry. "And I think I'll take you up on your offer of a sleeping potion this evening. It was a bit of a struggle to focus in class today, and I'd feel better knowing I'd get a good night's sleep tonight."

Lupin smiled. "All right, Harry. Why don't you see me in my office after dinner – I should have a potion ready by then."

Harry waved good-bye to his professor and hurried his way upstairs to join his friends.

The following morning, Harry got a note from Hedwig while having breakfast with his housemates. His eyes widened with wonder as he unfurled the parchment – he wasn't expecting a response from Professor Lupin so soon, but he was glad to hear from him regardless:

"Dear Harry,

First of all, thank you for trusting me with something so personal as sharing the details of a bad dream. I've gone over every last detail you've provided, and while I can't definitively link them to the Orb of Exuberance, it does give me pause.

I'll be meeting with our esteemed Shaman, Professor Joseph Haatali later today. He may request to speak with you at some point – he may come across as a little… intimidating, but you have my assurance that he's as honorable as he is wise. I'll gladly be present for you if you feel more comfortable having me in the room.

Joe is a very busy man, so it probably will be closer to the end of the week before he can see you. I will let you know for sure within the next day or so.

I hope the sleeping draught helped you at least a little bit last night. They are supposed to induce a deep, dreamless sleep – but if these dreams are indeed caused by the Orb, it's possible that even a sleeping draught cannot prevent these nightmares.

I've taken the liberty to secure a restricted book which I want you to take a look at – there is some pertinent information regarding the Orb which I think you ought to be aware of. I normally wouldn't condone an underclassman perusing such a volume, but I think this warrants an exception. You may want to remind me during our usual meeting time this Thursday in case I don't mention it before then.

You may want to ask Anastasia to see if she's willing to spend a couple of hours in a quiet nook with you this weekend – she will almost certainly be able to 'translate' some of the more difficult passages for you. Even from a grown man's perspective, it wasn't an easy read. Please be sure to return the book to me after next Monday's lecture.

If you need anything else in the meantime, I'm just an owl away.

Sincerely,

Remus Lupin"

"Was that from Professor Lupin by any chance, Harry?" squeaked Tallulah.

Harry smiled and nodded. "Sure was."

Tallulah bit her lip. "So… was he able to help you?"

"Sorta," replied Harry. "He needs to talk to Professor Haatali."

Othniel arched an eyebrow. "Professor who?"

"Professor Haatali," Harry repeated. "He teaches Shamanism… it's an elective for third-years, on up."

"Never heard of him," Othniel muttered. "Shamanism… isn't that like earth spirits and vision quests and all that?"

"Partially," chimed in Ana. "Shamanism predates Western magic by literally thousands of years. Most modern magical societies laugh at shamans for using 'inferior magic', but a properly-skilled shaman can weave magical circles around most witches and wizards. Although the variety of shamanism we learn at Ilvermorny is diluted considerably, we can still learn some powerful healing spells and demonstrate incredible feats of elemental magic – as in the four elements of earth, air, fire and water. What's equally cool and frightening is that much of shamanistic magic is wandless. It's no joke, if you're disciplined enough to study it."

The corner of her lips curled into a faint smirk. "Trust me when I say that you really don't want to duel Professor Haatali. He's too humble to admit it, but he'd overpower the headmaster pretty quickly, and Professor Fontaine is plenty formidable. I'd reckon he'd be a match for the mighty Dumbledore were they to spar."

"I'd actually love to see that. I wouldn't want them to, y'know, hurt each other, but it would be interesting to see two of the most powerful beings in the magical world go head-to-head in a friendly match, if only to see the total contrast of styles," said Tallulah.

"From what Nova says, Professor Haatali was invited to Hogwarts a few years ago to demonstrate shamanistic magic in front of the kids. He asked the crowd of students if they wanted to watch him duel one of their professors," explained Ana. "Of course, those kids overwhelmingly said yes, and when he asked the crowd which professor they wanted him to duel, most of them wanted him to take on their Potions Master."

She giggled. "Hehehe. From what I gather, he's even less popular at Hogwarts than Madam L is here! At any rate, when the Hogwarts Potions Master kicked it off with an expelliarmus spell – that's a disarming spell, Othniel – little did he know that Professor Haatali didn't even need a wand. He just wiggled his fingers and waved his hands around like he was molding a ball of clay, and summoned a miniature tornado that sucked their Potions Master right into its vortex and flung him two hundred feet against the opposite wall of their Great Hall! He supposedly taught the next several classes with his head in bandages and arm in a sling."

***FLASHBACK – November 21st, 1989***

Virtually all the Hogwarts faculty and student body was present to watch a very special guest demonstrate a very different brand of magic – shamanism. Professor Haatali stood out from his British hosts in that outside of Dumbledore himself, he was much taller than most of the staff, and instead of robes, he preferred the comforts of blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a simple vest which exposed his bare, rippled chest.

The students just stared at the strange Navajo man, eyes wide with awe. Most of the students had never seen a Native American before; only the Muggle-born ones had even seen them in books or film. His slow, deliberate speech was different than any variety of English they were accustomed to. The young witches and wizards got the idea that Professor Haatali actually preferred not to speak, unless necessary. He walked with something that wasn't exactly a swagger, but he carried a certain poise and confidence that conveyed that he was not one to trifle with.

He addressed the crowd, with every single eye fixed on him. "One of the hallmark powers of shamanism is a strong attunement to the spirits," he explained in a flat tone. He sat cross-legged on the floor, building a makeshift campfire circle of rocks, then neatly arranging tinder and kindling in a cone-shaped pattern. He smirked at the crowd as he raised his right hand before them, palm away, and as soon as he spread his fingers – POOF! A bright orange flame burst from his fingertips.

He opened up a small, leather pouch from inside his vest, and sprinkled a pinch of grayish-green powder over the fledgling flame. He chanted softly in his native Navajo language – a chant which captivated every last Hogwarts student – and the chanting abruptly ended with a lupine growl. A large spectral wolf appeared next to Haatali, sitting much like an obedient dog, and let out a shrill, mournful-sounding howl.

"This is a spirit wolf," he drawled. "The wolf is revered in my culture, as it represents wisdom, unity and guidance. You cannot summon a spirit wolf until you truly understand these concepts." He chuckled softly before commencing his next demonstration. "Speaking of spirits…" He held his hands over the fire, palm-up, and wiggled his fingers as he moved his hands up and down.

"Hey, lemmie go, lemmie go, what in Merlin's name are you doIIIIIIINNG?"

The notorious court jester of a poltergeist, Peeves, began ascending from the bottom of the floor, feet first, kicking and screaming as Haatali ostensibly had complete control over him. Nearly every student and faculty member giggled with satisfaction – it was certainly a pleasure seeing the prankster being on the receiving end for once. Haatali guided Peeves rather like how a puppet master would maneuver the strings of a marionette, and with a crash of his hands, let Peeves drop right in front of a most unamused Professor Snape, as throngs of children applauded and cheered with delight.

Haatali cracked a rare grin. "I don't suppose you would like to see a brief duel against one of your professors?" The Great Hall erupted into thunderous applause. "Very well," he said with a nod. "I'll let YOU choose my adversary… now, choose wisely…"

The answer was virtually instantaneous, and unanimous. The crowd burst into chants of "Snape! Snape! Snape! Snape!". Professor Snape's sizable scowl doubled in size while Haatali beckoned him to come onto the middle of the great hall. "You heard them, Professor," Haatali said with a wink.

Snape growled as he strode to meet his opponent on the floor. "Very well, I shall humor the masses." He snapped his fingers, and a slender black wand instantly appeared in his right hand. "Let's get this over with."

The two sorcerers bowed toward each other, before turning around and taking ten paces before turning to face each other. Almost as soon as he turned around, Snape cast a quick, devastating EXPELLIARMUS! Haatali's wand flew out his hand, and while he remained on his feet, the spell forced him to retreat several steps backwards.

Snape smirked to himself in satisfaction after successfully disarming Haatali, but before he knew it, he was in for a rude awakening when the tall, gaunt Navajo made the same motion with his hands as before – like he was shaping a ball of clay – and before Snape knew it, he was lifted off his feet and engulfed by a tornado that spun him around like a centrifuge. Just as Snape felt like he was about to vomit, the tornado hurled him clear across the room, crashing through one of the castle windows and into the courtyard.

"Make way, make way," Madam Pomfrey demanded as students and faculty parted for the panicked school medic.

"He'll be fine," Haatali said to Professor Dumbledore, who simply nodded in reply. "Though I doubt he'll be sending me a Christmas card this year.