Chapter 505: Dream Stories—The Revised Edition
The last time Flourish and Blotts had seen a spectacle this grand was just
before Gilderoy Lockhart's spectacular downfall.
Harry leaned against a railing, watching the commotion with wide-eyed curiosity.
Amidst the sea of wizards surging toward the bookstore, he spotted a single
figure moving calmly against the current.
"Sean!" Harry shouted, waving his arms.
The young wizard looked up, spotting Harry, Justin, and the rest of the group
waving from the sidewalk. He navigated through the dense crowd, eventually
reaching the shade outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
"Morning," Sean said.
"We've been waiting for ages!" Hermione said, giving him a playful roll of her
eyes.
"My apologies," Sean replied. "I was busy tracking down the 'External Wisdom'
for my Blinding Curse—stabilizing the phonetics and gestures took longer than
anticipated..."
"Oh, Sean, can we please talk about literally anything else?" Justin interrupted
with a bright, easy grin.
"Yeah, blimey," Ron added. "Don't make me feel like I'm already back in a
classroom."
"We've got all our books, right? Is there anything left?" Justin asked, looking
around the group.
"We're set," Ron said, gesturing to a massive, bulging bag tucked under his
chair. "But what is the deal with those Monster Books of Monsters? We only asked
for two, and the shopkeeper looked like he was about to burst into tears."
Harry pointed to three heavy bags sitting on the chair next to Hermione. "What's
in all those, Hermione?"
"Oh, well, I'm taking more new subjects than you lot, aren't I?" Hermione said.
"Those are my texts for Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination,
Ancient Runes, and Muggle Studies—"
"What are you taking Muggle Studies for?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes at Harry.
"You're Muggle-born! Your parents are Muggles—you already know everything there
is to know about them!"
"If you're so confused by it, why don't you ask Sean and Justin? They both
signed up for it too," Hermione snapped.
"One can never have too much knowledge," Sean answered naturally.
"Exactly," Justin added with a smirk.
"Besides," Hermione said, her excitement returning, "it will be fascinating to
study them from a wizarding perspective."
"Right again," Justin chimed in.
"Blimey, Justin, I bet if Sean signed up for a class on how to watch paint dry,
you'd be right there with him, wouldn't you?" Ron teased, winking at the others.
"Sean, are you doing Divination? Oh, you are? Wicked—me too!"
Harry let out a snort of laughter, and even Neville was hiding a grin behind his
hand.
"Ron... you're right," Justin said, not at all offended. "Learning on your own
can be a bit of a drag, but when you're with friends, even the most boring
subject becomes a laugh. My mother always told me that with the right company,
even the stoniest path is a pleasant stroll."
Ron went quiet for a moment, actually considering the thought. "Fair point. Me
too, then!"
As the group laughed and joked, Sean stood back, a small, genuine smile tugging
at the corners of his mouth. After a while, Harry looked back at the mountain of
books in Hermione's bags.
"Are you planning on eating or sleeping at all this year, Hermione?"
Ron snickered, but Hermione ignored them, her gaze drifting back toward the
crowded bookstore. She seemed puzzled by the massive surge in customers now that
ten o'clock had passed.
"Shall we go in and see what the fuss is about?" she asked tentatively. She
addressed the whole group, but her eyes were fixed on Sean.
"I'm in," Justin said. "Everything's more fun in a crowd."
"Mmm," Sean nodded. He was curious to see how his upperclassman, Newt Scamander,
had handled the subject of dreams and the veil.
The six young wizards wove their way into the throng. The crowd was a tapestry
of different wizards, all talking excitedly. Every ten yards or so, a massive
banner hung above the street, each emblazoned with a sensational headline:
DREAMS OR NIGHTMARES: DO PIXIES REALLY LURK IN THE WIZARD'S SLEEP?
DIVINITY OR DELUSION: THE THINGS YOU MISS WHILE YOU'RE UNCONSCIOUS!
IGNORANCE IS LUCK: IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE MASTER OF DREAMS, YOUR LUCK IS ABOUT TO
RUN OUT!
"Whoa!" Ron breathed as he read the banners.
Sean observed the marketing silently. The closer they got to the shop, the more
aggressive the advertisements became. Finally, they reached the front doors,
where a single, enormous banner hung alone:
WE GRACIOUSLY THANK THE FIRST PURCHASER OF "DREAMS AND DEITIES": THE ESTEEMED
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!
"Headmaster Dumbledore?" Hermione gasped.
Sean stared at the name. He suspected the Headmaster was much more of a fan of
Newt's work—and perhaps a bit more bored—than he usually let on. The bookstore
was essentially using Dumbledore as a celebrity endorsement.
"I've got to get a copy!" Hermione cried, beginning to elbow her way through the
crowd.
The power of celebrity, Sean thought dryly.
Soon, Hermione's voice was lost in the roar of the crowd.
"Two copies over here!" "Ten for me!" "Is there a Collector's Edition? Sir, I
need the Collector's Edition!"
A weary-looking wizard stood at the door, trying to hold back the tide. "Ladies
and gentlemen, please... stay in line... watch the displays... mind the books!"
Sean followed the winding queue as it snaked toward the back of the shop. He
reached out and picked up a display copy of Dreams and Deities, but as he began
to flip through it, his attention was caught by a familiar figure.
"Oh my... it's actually him! It's Newt Scamander!" Hermione's voice squeaked
with excitement.
Sean looked up. The legendary Hufflepuff was sitting behind a table, looking
quite bashful as he signed books, offering a shy, sincere smile to every wizard
who approached.
Three Kneazles were perched on his shoulders, lounging lazily in the sunlight
that streamed through the windows, their fur glowing like spun gold. A tall
witch in a vibrant purple traveling cloak was darting around him with a massive
black camera. Every time the flash went off with a dazzling pop, a plume of
purple smoke drifted from the lens.
Sean realized he had underestimated how much Newt valued this project. He found
himself genuinely curious: how would a wizard as knowledgeable and magically
profound as Newt Scamander interpret The Lands Between and the world of dreams?
Sean knew, better than anyone, that the "Black Cat of Good Luck" was a marketing
myth. But The Lands Between—the World Behind the Veil—was a very real, very
dangerous magical realm that few had ever explored.
Sean opened the book.
In the center of the cover was a sleek black cat, lounging atop a swirling cloud
of mist. It was looking out at the reader with a look of pure, mischievous
cunning.
Hermione and Justin, who were standing right beside Sean, looked at the cover
and then at him. Their eyes were wide, filled with a sudden, silent realization.
They knew that cat.
It was Bastet. It was Sean.
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