Harry Potter and the Dreamer of Fears

Chapter 23 - Weavers' Council

            "We call this meeting of the Weavers Council in session," a wizened old man with a long river of a white beard called.  His pointed dark blue hat was on top of his head and the tip of it tilted slightly.  His eyes were a deep blue and they hinted and sparkled with immense power.  But his clothes weren't just the robes of normal wizards and warlocks.  They were clothes of a simple man, made by the furs and feathers of various animals; some different dark colored feathers shrouding him with their warmth.  As it was, in England during the winter months, cold.

Merlin, as he was known to everyone for he had no last name or didn't care to give it to anyone but himself, placed his hands on the wooden table of the underground dungeons.  The crowd that was with him quieted down and he waited patiently.  He figured that if he gave them time enough, they would stop their talking and listen to him, after all, he was their leader.

"We are ready to receive your words, Merlin," an Elven wizard by the name of Selwyn, whom he knew as the commander of the Wood Elves Army, spoke, his pointed ears flickering in the firelight that was their only source of light within the dungeons.

They had to hold their secret meetings in the underground because of the dangers above.  Morgana LeFaye had joined with Nimue the Lady of the Lake as allies to become a magical force to be reckoned with.  Which meant King Arthur was in danger and they needed to do something to protect the light that was trying to survive against the growing darkness.

"I've gathered all of you here because I wanted your consent to what I am about to do," Merlin spoke, his voice echoing in the silence of the dungeon.  Looking around he noticed that the Dreamers standing off to a side were staring at him with unreadable expressions, but he knew that they would follow him as he was the head Dreamer himself...the Dreamer of Hopes.  Next to them were the Elven Armies of different Elves.  The House Elves were dressed in their makeshift clothes of armor and looked decidedly agitated, but the Wood Elves next to them were ready for battle.  Behind them stood the Nymphs and various water creatures that were able to breathe air and water.  They had no say in what he was about to do, but respectfully came to the meeting as they were the ones guarding the seas surrounding England and the rest of the world.  On his far right were the Weavers, what he called the High Courts.  A group of the highest respected wizards, witches, warlocks, and sorceresses all fighting in the name of the light.  They were the ones that he had to convince...after all, they all shared the same equal power, each one of them head their own division of army.

But the people he was the most worried about were the Dreamers.  It was the Dreamers that were divided...with Nimue as the Dreamer of Fears leading the evil forces of wizards and witches; she was waging a battle for ultimate control of the ancient magicks of the world.  He and the Order of Weavers were the only ones standing between her and total domination.

"I...will give my powers, as the Dreamer of Hopes, to young Mortal King Arthur Pendragon," he pronounced into the silence.

For a few seconds it was as if everyone was holding their breaths, then someone sucked in a breath harshly and the dungeon exploded with questions fired at him.  Merlin knew that giving the powers of magic to a Mortal was unheard of, and it was possibly dangerous as Mortals could be easily corrupted by their power, and he knew the risks, but he was willing to take them.

"Order!  Order!" Shelbeigh Winters called from her seat from the Weavers' Council.  Merlin watched her fire off a few crackling lightening from her fingers, the sorceress' eyes blazing with hidden power as she reinstated the silence.

"I know you have questions, thinking that I am doing this against my better judgment, but what I tell you...  Arthur is a good king, a right and just one.  He has provided a hope for his people who have long forgotten what it is like to hope.  I feel that he has earned the right to his power.  I feel that he...cannot be corrupted, at least not so easily," Merlin looked around his blue eyes piercing each and everyone of the people standing in the room, "Nimue has grown stronger and so has the witch Morgana LeFaye.  Possibly almost as strong as to be considered a sorceress by now.  With the seven sins of Man behind Nimue, we do not stand a chance as Dreamers.  We need the help of Mortals and other forces of good.  We need hope and I cannot give the hope they need."

"Merlin?!" Selwyn's voice was a gasp of horror.

"I am getting old," he said in exasperation, "I am not who I used to be.  I feel that giving my powers to someone whom I can trust is the only way of saving our light."

"But Merlin..." someone spoke into the crowd.

"It is time the Dreamer of Hopes has been passed down to someone else.  My burden has been done...  Let hope arise for someone else.  Let hope be the first of many good things to come..."

The voices slowly faded away until Harry could hear his own breathing though his ears.  He listened to it for a few minutes, as he knew that he was half-awake and half-asleep.  As he listened to his regular breathing, he wondered what was that he dreamed about.  Certainly, there was nothing of a semblance of Voldemort or anything in there, but the word Dreamers had been repeated many times.  Was there more than one Dreamer?  Were there a whole lot of them?  And was that even Merlin that he had dreamed?  Certainly, no one had any record of the greatest and famous wizard of King Arthur's time.  Why did he dream this?

Finally, he opened his eyes and reached over to put on his glasses from the stand.  It was already morning, with the curtains half-drawn to let some sunlight in.  Sitting up, Harry stretched, and felt very clear-headed and no more residue of pain from his scar.  He looked around and saw that a few of the players that were in the wing were gone from their beds, obviously better.  Glancing over to Ron, he saw that his friend was still sleeping and beyond him, the heart-monitor on Alicia still beeped.  That immediately soured his mood as he watched the monitor go in a monotonous beep.

A sudden flutter of wings brought his gaze around to the end of his bed where a mottled colored falcon perched on the railings at the end of his bed, staring at him with its sharp eyes.  The eyes suddenly looked down and Harry looked down too to see Snuffles, lying on the ground, obviously asleep, one paw covering his nose, the other flung over his eyes.  The falcon gave a soft squawk and Harry nodded.

"Moirae?" he tentatively asked, and the falcon tilted its head as if to say yes.  He dared not to say Professor Marion's name and addressed her using her falcon's name as Marius had done.

"Was Snuffles here all last night?" he asked her and the falcon bobbed its head once to say yes.

"Oh..." Harry didn't really know what else to ask when the falcon suddenly flew up and then suddenly Marion stood in place of the falcon.  He noticed that she looked quiet exhausted, but her eyes were full of energy.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better, Professor Marion," he replied then watched as she took a quick gaze at the drawn curtains around Snape's bed a frown forming on her face.  "Is Professor Snape-"

"He'll be fine, Harry," Marion replied, "it's not him I'm worried about...it's Snuffles."

"Huh?" he asked, confused.

"Sirius took the events of the Quidditch match pretty badly.  I haven't seen him so shaken up since the death of your parents," she replied, lightly scratching the big black dog behind its ears, making the dog snort slightly then continue on sleeping.  "He's been up and running and only got to sleep a couple of hours ago."

"You knew my parents?" Harry asked, staring at Professor Marion.

"Yes...I did.  I knew your mother more than your father," Marion's tone of voice hinted of a finality to the questions that were forming in his mind.  Harry wisely didn't ask, but inside, he was dying to know what she knew of his mother.  It was rare to get an answer from both Lupin and Sirius about his parents as it was a very touchy subject for him, but Marion seemed a bit indifferent to the topic of his parents and he wanted to know more.  But he also knew that pushing her against a subject that she did not want to talk about wasn't wise.

"You had a dream," she stated, watching him with the same sharp eyes as a falcon.

Harry nodded, "How did you know?"

"I can tell...even when the person having the dream doesn't really show signs of it," Marion replied.

"What day is it?" he suddenly asked, changing the subject.

"Monday...and it is quite near lunch time I dare say.  Don't worry; Miss Granger is taking notes for the two of you.  She's been working hard this morning to make sure both of you do not fall behind," Marion smiled slightly and Harry blinked in surprise.  This was one of the few times he had ever seen her with even a ghost of a smile as she did it rarely.

"Just like Hermione to keep us up to date," Ron suddenly mumbled from his bed and Harry turned to see his friend sit up, stretching and suppressing a yawn with his hand.  "Hey!  Where did everyone go?"

"Some of the players, including Madam Hooch, woke up this morning, feeling better.  They've returned to their classes and Common Rooms," Marion replied, and now Harry noticed that quite a few Slytherins had left.  The only ones who remained were the two chasers, Lincon and Sheply, both fourth-year burly boys.

The Gryffindors that remained were him, Ron, Alicia, and their captain Angelina.  "Oh this is nice...someone was definitely trying to get at us Gryffindors," Ron spat angrily.

"Miss Johnson was hit mentally with the Cruciatus Curse...but she should be out of the Hospital Wing by nightfall, if Madam Pomfrey lets her," Marion replied to Harry's unspoken question about Angelina's condition.  "And...none of us know about Miss Spinet's condition..." she added softly.

There was an awkward silence following her statement, only punctuated with an occasional snort from Snuffles, still sleeping at the foot of Harry's bed.  Suddenly the doors to the Hospital Wing banged open, making both Harry and Ron jump in surprise and Hermione walked in, then suddenly stopped as she looked at the door which was swinging close sheepishly then back at them.  "Sorry," she whispered to them as she made her way quietly over.

"Try to be more quiet in the future, Miss Granger," Marion admonished her and Hermione nodded then looked to the ground and Harry followed her gaze to see Snuffles, blinking his eyes open then suddenly stood up on all four paws.

Harry was knocked back into his pillow as Snuffles placed two paws on his chest, staring at his face with a concerned expression.  "I'm all right Snuffles," he managed to get out as his breath came back to him.

The dog looked slightly doubtful but released him and sat obediently on the ground, but growled slightly as Marion reached a hand out to pet him.  Harry snickered softly as he remembered what happened during the first day of school when Snuffles had to deliver a package to Dumbledore.

"So, what brings you to the Hospital Wing, Miss Granger?  Besides visiting your friends, I presume since you had done that last night with Miss Weasley, Chang, and Smith," Marion retracted her hand without a word and looked at Hermione.

"You knew?!  But...I thought you were in your falcon form somewhere else..." Hermione looked surprised.

"I was...but only to get to the Ravenclaw Common Room.  It is very tiring to walk all the way up there.  Morgan Chang told me after seeing all of you," Marion's voice betrayed no emotion, but Harry could sense that their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher trusted Morgan...even when she could be the Dreamer of Fears.

And speaking of Dreamers, Harry knew that he should talk to Dumbledore about the odd dream he had, but he didn't know if it had any real relevance to what was going on at the moment.

"Well...I'm only here because of some research I had to do for Herbology class.  Harry and Ron wanted to know the potency and origins of the Red-Fire Mushrooms..." Hermione lied and Marion nodded.

"Well then, I guess I'll leave all of you to your school works," she seemed to accept the lie, and got up, quickly changing into her falcon form, squawking once to Snuffles who had an affronted look then reluctantly trotted out after her, after giving Harry a long look that plainly said, be careful Harry.

When the door closed behind them, Ron let out a rushed breath he had been holding.  "Blimey Hermione, I seriously don't think she really believed you...  I mean, what if she asks Professor Sprout?"

"We are doing Red-Fire Mushrooms, if you have been paying attention in Herbology.  And Professor Sprout did ask us to do research on them," Hermione clucked her tongue then pulled up a chair between their beds and reached into her bag that was stuffed full of books.  She pulled out a thick one, and blew on it, making a fine dust cloud appear then fade away.  "I got this out of the Restricted section since I had Professor Sadow's permission with me."

"When did you get his permission?" Ron asked, looking at her with amazement.

"Sunday morning.  There have been rumors floating around about a Dreamer of Fears or something of that nature before I came to see you guys.  Professor Sadow had assigned us an essay during our last class about the ancient uses of Defense Magic and I wanted to do some Merlin-era stuff.  After I visited you guys, I asked Ginny to borrow her copies of Merlin-era things, but they didn't mention anything except for some skirmishes between different magical creatures during his era," Hermione flipped to a section of the old book near the middle.  "This book however, mentions something of a Weavers' Council during Merlin's era."

"Weavers' Council?!" Harry was jolted slightly as remembered his dream.

"What, you know something about them?" Ron looked at him.

"Not really," Harry replied slowly, "I...just had a dream about them...that's all..."

"Something to do with You-Know-Who?" Hermione asked, looking up from her book.

"That's the odd thing..." he scratched the back of his head, "It had nothing to do with Voldemort...I think...  I mean, I saw a room full of different people, creatures, you name it and there it is.  Even Merlin was there, and I think the dream took place a long time ago...  He mentioned something about a Weavers' Council and Dreamers..."

"Yes," Hermione held up the dusty old book, pointing at a wrinkled picture.  "That's what the book said.  According to this, the Weavers' Council was established roughly during the times of Merlin and other wizards of that era.  They were created to stop the evil growing from dark wizards and witches.  Combined of every different creature that was willing to fight for the light, the Weavers were able to suppress and thwart every plan the Darkness was able to conjure up."

"So...what do the Dreamers have to do with the Weavers' Council?" Ron asked.

"Listen, Ron, I wasn't finished yet.  Anyway, the Dreamers were a subdivision led by Merlin...who was the Dreamer of Hopes.  The Dreamers were numbered in thirteen; seven of them the Seven Sins of Man, the other six, the Six Virtues of Man.  The Seven Sins broke away from the other Dreamers and this led to a war between the Dreamers-"

"What are the Seven Sins of Man?" Ron frowned, not really understanding.

"I think...pride, covetousness (greed), lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth...if I remember correctly," Harry knew that Ron really hadn't any connection to the Muggle world and it was stated in the Bible, since the Dursleys were Anglican, the seven sins of man and six virtues.

"Right, but it also says in the book that Gluttony and Sloth were replaced by Corruption and Fears since the former two had died out a long time ago," Hermione interjected.

"Fears?  You mean what Professor Dumbledore talked about yesterday?" Ron blinked in surprise...

"I suppose so...you want to tell me what Professor Dumbledore told you two?" Hermione closed the book, her chin resting on her hand.

"Professor Dumbledore told us that there was a certain magical power that happened during the Quidditch match.  It was done to entice our deepest fears, and he said that it was like the sign of a Dreamer of Fears or something of that nature," Harry explained.

"Yeah, it felt like spiders were crawling all over me..." Ron shuddered mentally, and then glanced down at his still bandaged ribs, "probably what made me fall off my broom..."

"That explains Alicia's condition...I presume that Angelina was hit with the Cruciatus?  You know there are many rumors going on about this.  Even Professor Binns, after talking about the Veela Attacks, wouldn't say a word about the Dreamer of Fears, neither would any of the teachers.  Madam Pince has already brought the books that are in relation to Merlin back into the Restricted Section...I was only lucky to get a book out without her breathing down my neck," Hermione looked thoughtful.

"How do you know Angelina was hit..."

"During the time when all of you were just doing something weird...Angelina suddenly screamed then fell off her broom.  Luckily she wasn't too far from the ground, but after she fell, she kept screaming and one of the Aurors, who was near us muttered that she looked like she was under Cruciatus..." Hermione looked slightly pained at the horrifying memory.

"Wait a second...did you see anything unusual with Morgan during that time?" Harry asked, his mind doing some quick thinking.

"No not really...I mean everyone, Lina, Morgan, Cho, even Sirius, everyone, was watching all the players suddenly fall or whatever.  But the scary thing was with you and Malfoy.  I mean...what happened?  It looked like Malfoy was ready to hex you or curse you to death on your broomstick..."

"He did...I guess his greatest fear was loosing out to me..." Harry leaned back against his pillows, "you think this bit about a Weavers' Council or whatever is true?"

"It's in the history books, Harry," Hermione looked at him with an affronted look, "of course it's true."

"Yeah, but its legends...I mean, does the book say more about Dreamers?  And what is it that Dreamers really do?" he countered.

Hermione was about to answer with another retort when Madam Pomfrey came in, humming something the suddenly stopped and stared at them.  "Miss Granger..." she started, a tired expression on her face.

"I'm sorry Madam Pomfrey..." Hermione apologized as she stood up and placed the dusty old book back into her bag, getting ready to leave.

"Never mind, Miss Granger...but in the future, please tell me before you unexpectedly drop by," Pomfrey replied as she came over to them and placed a hand on Harry's head.  "Are you feeling better?" she asked him.

"Yes ma'am," he replied, "it doesn't hurt anymore and I feel fine."

"Well then...I think you can go back to your classes...what are your afternoon classes?"

"Uh...double Defense Against the Dark Arts," Harry replied.

"All right...I'll have to send a note to Professor Sadow not to work you too hard during his class today.  You are still very weak at the moment, young man...you do good to heed my advice and take it easy for the rest of today," Madam Pomfrey turned from him and then looked at Ron.  "And you, my dear?"

"Better...I think I can go to my classes too," Ron replied, and Harry knew that his best friend didn't want to be left alone in the Hospital Wing and wanted to be with his friends.

"I'll be the judge of that, Mr. Weasley," Madam Pomfrey replied then checked him over by pressing on the bandages surrounding his ribs.  Harry noticed that Ron struggled to hold a wince of pain as she touched some still tender areas.

"Hmm..." she frowned as she finished with her examination, "you're still a bit sore around some...but..."

"Please, can I go?" Ron begged.

"It's against my better judgment, but I think you'll be fine for the rest of today.  I want you, especially, not to be doing anything physical.  Not even waving your wand around.  I want you to sit in class and just take notes or observe whatever the class is doing..." Pomfrey finally relented and Ron grinned.

"Thanks!"

"Now, get dressed and you all may leave," Madam Pomfrey conjured up curtains around their beds and then stuck their neatly folded robes into each respective bed.  Harry was glad to be finally getting out of the Hospital Wing, but he was still worried about Alicia's condition.  Was their Chaser going to be all right?  And what about Professor Snape, still in his corner, curtains drawn...

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