Harry Potter: the fool

Dipak (Harry)’s eyes snapped open, the darkness of the dormitory pressing in on him. The air was still, heavy with the weight of pre-dawn silence. He could feel the sweat cooling on his forehead as the last remnants of the dream clung to his mind, vivid and unsettling. For a moment, he lay motionless, trying to still his racing heart, but the images from his vision refused to fade.

A rat, pursued by a dog and a wolf, escaping into the coils of a snake that, inexplicably, did not strike.

Dipak (Harry) took a deep breath, the chill of the early morning air sharp in his lungs. This wasn’t just a dream—it was something more, something deeper. He had read enough about true Seers to know that their visions often came in the form of dreams, cryptic yet heavy with meaning. As a Seer himself, these dreams were not to be taken lightly.

Sitting up in bed, Dipak (Harry) reached under his pillow for the journal he kept hidden there, the one where he recorded every strange occurrence, every vision. The soft scratching of his quill was the only sound in the stillness of the dormitory as he hastily jotted down every detail he could recall.

“The rat must be Pettigrew,” he whispered to himself as he wrote, the words grounding him in the reality of the vision. “The dog and wolf… Sirius and Lupin?” He paused, tapping the quill against his chin in thought. “But the snake… Voldemort? Why wouldn’t he kill Pettigrew?”

The behaviour of the animals gnawed at him. As a former biology student, Dipak (Harry) was used to analysing the instincts and behaviours of creatures, but this dream defied simple explanations. The rat’s cunning, the predatory nature of the dog and wolf, the snake’s restraint—it all seemed significant, but the exact meaning eluded him.

He glanced over at Ron’s bed, where he knew Scabbers—Peter Pettigrew—was likely curled up in a nest of blankets. The urge to act, to seize the rat and end the threat, itched at him, but a deeper instinct urged caution.

“If I change too much,” Dipak (Harry) whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness, “I lose my advantage. My knowledge of the future becomes useless.”

Yet the ethical weight of his inaction bore down on him. Could he really stand by and allow Pettigrew to escape, knowing the horrors that would follow? The thought of it sickened him, but the consequences of altering the future were equally daunting.

Needing clarity, Dipak (Harry) slipped out of bed and quietly made his way to the common room. The embers in the fireplace had burned low, casting faint, flickering shadows that danced across the walls. In the dim light, he set up a makeshift divination space on the floor, pulling out his tarot cards and a scrying crystal.

Closing his eyes, Dipak (Harry) focused his mind on the lingering dread from his vision, searching for answers in the murky depths of his consciousness. Images flickered through his mind: a full moon hanging over the Forbidden Forest, a large black dog prowling the grounds, a rat darting through the underbrush, and a snake coiled tightly around a tombstone. The visions were fragmented, like pieces of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit together, but they carried an undeniable sense of looming danger.

He breathed deeply, centering himself as he laid out the tarot cards before him. His fingers hovered over the deck, before pulling the first card: *The Tower*. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of the crumbling tower, a symbol of sudden and catastrophic change.

“The danger is immediate,” Dipak (Harry) murmured, his voice tight. He drew the next card: *The Devil*. The card showed a figure bound in chains, surrounded by dark forces.

“The danger is from betrayal,” he whispered, his mind racing. “Pettigrew... he’s planning something.”

But there was more. The final card he drew was *The Hierophant*, a symbol of tradition and institutions, but also of secrets and hidden truths. Dipak (Harry) stared at the card, a cold realisation dawning on him.

“There’s another danger... something in the future,” he muttered, his thoughts spinning. “A letter, or maybe a message. Something that will change everything.”

The cards were clear: there were two dangers. One was immediate, stemming from Pettigrew’s imminent betrayal. The other was more insidious, a threat from the future tied to a message or communication. And both could be catastrophic if left unchecked.

As the first light of dawn began to seep through the windows, casting a warm, golden hue over the common room, Dipak (Harry) packed away his tools, his mind spinning with possibilities. He needed to observe Scabbers more closely, to keep tabs on Pettigrew without arousing suspicion. Perhaps he could offer to help Ron take better care of his pet, disguising his true intentions as concern for a friend.

But as Dipak (Harry) considered his next move, a new thought struck him. It wasn’t enough to just foresee danger—he needed the means to control it.

His thoughts flashed to a scene from the second movie: Gilderoy Lockhart, attempting to perform a Memory Charm with Ron’s defective wand. The resulting backfire was comedic, but it highlighted the raw power of memory magic, a power that could be devastating if used correctly. Dipak (Harry) recalled the look of confusion on Lockhart’s face as his own spell erased his memories, the wand snapping with a loud bang, followed by the utter destruction of his mind.

Then another image surged into his mind, this time from the seventh movie: Hermione standing in her parents’ home, the air thick with tension. With a wave of her wand, she whispered, “Obliviate,” erasing herself from their memories. The pain in her eyes as she watched the photos of her slowly fade was a stark reminder of the weight such a spell carried. It wasn’t just about erasing memories—it was about severing ties, altering reality.

Dipak (Harry) felt a chill run down his spine as he contemplated the implications. Could he do something like that? Could he erase the memories of someone like Pettigrew, or even alter them to serve his purpose? The thought was both terrifying and tempting.

“Mind magic,” he murmured to himself, the idea forming like a shadow in the back of his mind. “If I could master memory charms, I could protect my secrets and manage any... complications.”

The thought of tampering with someone’s mind made his stomach churn, but he couldn’t deny the appeal. Survival in this world might demand actions he would have once considered unthinkable.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs jolted him from his thoughts. The dormitory was waking up, the familiar routine of school life beginning once again. Dipak (Harry) pushed his plans to the back of his mind as Ron and Hermione entered the common room, both looking slightly bleary-eyed from sleep.

“Morning, Harry,” Hermione greeted, her eyes sharper than usual as they scanned his face. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dipak (Harry) replied with a casual shrug, forcing a smile. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”

Ron yawned widely, completely oblivious to the tension simmering beneath the surface. “Probably just worrying about that essay for Transfiguration. It’s giving me nightmares too.”

Dipak (Harry) laughed lightly, though the sound felt hollow to his ears. “Yeah, something like that.”

As they chatted about the day ahead, Dipak (Harry)’s mind remained partially locked on his earlier visions. The fragmented images, the cryptic symbolism—they were a constant reminder of the dangers that lay ahead, and the difficult choices he would have to make.

Even as he went through the motions of his morning routine, Dipak (Harry) couldn’t shake the feeling that time was running out. The dream, the visions, the snake—they were all pieces of a puzzle that, once assembled, could change everything. And now, he knew he had a week to act, to eliminate the immediate danger and prepare for the one that would follow.

But would he be ready to face what was coming?

Only time would tell.