Harry wanted to break free from the dream and wake up, but inexplicably found himself unable to control his own fate once again.
"Severus, you don't need to ask anymore. I already know."
The name sent a jolt through him.
The scene distorted again, and Harry found himself high above, sitting on a cold chair. His hands gripped the armrests on either side, slowly rubbing them as the coldness seeped into his skin.
He was looking down at everything below.
The black-robed man Harry had seen in his dream raised his head and revealed his true face.
Beneath the cloak, the man's sallow face and dark eyes revealed an expression of deep bitterness and resentment.
It was the man he hated most, his Potions teacher—Severus Snape.
This completely woke Harry up.
That was Snape, the man he hated most.
He opened his eyes, and the ceiling came into view.
It was already morning.
He hurriedly grabbed some clothes and put them on, picked up his wand, and, without even bothering to button his shirt, rushed out of the room and ran toward Professor McGonagall's office.
Several students in the Gryffindor common room stared at Harry in amazement.
It wasn't even breakfast time yet, so there were only a handful of people around.
The Fat Lady at the entrance was startled and hurriedly tugged her pajamas into place.
"Professor McGonagall!"
Harry called out as he hurried down the corridor, banging on her office door.
The door suddenly creaked open, and he nearly lost his balance and fell forward.
"Potter? What happened? Why are you in such a panic?"
Professor McGonagall had been hunched over only moments earlier, holding a quill and writing something.
As Deputy Headmistress, there were naturally countless trivial matters for her to deal with.
After being interrupted by Harry, the old witch finally looked up, subconsciously frowning as she sized up the somewhat disheveled boy.
She really didn't like this kind of hasty behavior.
"Dumbledore is going to duel Grindelwald at the Ministry of Magic after Christmas."
Harry, panting heavily, said something astonishing.
"What conspiracy is Voldemort plotting? He might be colluding with Grindelwald to target Professor Dumbledore!"
Harry continued.
"Potter, you might need to get some medicine from Madam Pomfrey. You don't look well. Perhaps you're still half asleep?"
Professor McGonagall took a long time to process what Harry was saying before, naturally, concluding that he was simply confused from sleep.
She pulled open the cabinet in front of her, rummaged through it for a while, and took out a sealed iron box with simple patterns engraved on it.
She tossed it to Harry.
Harry instinctively caught it and shook it a few times, hearing a rattling sound from inside.
"By the way, here are some ginger-amaranth biscuits. Would you like to try them? They might help you relax. They're said to cure insomnia," Professor McGonagall suggested kindly.
"Eating them might help," she told Harry before turning away to attend to her work.
"Professor McGonagall, my mind is perfectly clear," Harry said, sounding somewhat exasperated, before emphasizing, "Snape betrayed Dumbledore! I saw it with my own eyes! And Umbridge—she's in cahoots with Voldemort too!"
"You saw it with your own eyes? And Umbridge too?"
Professor McGonagall's age-deepened eyes widened. She turned her head and stared at Harry with an air of authority before quickly responding.
"Oh, that's impossible. You-Know-Who won't come to Hogwarts as long as Dumbledore is alive.
"You must be hallucinating.
"As for Umbridge, she is the Minister for Magic…"
Professor McGonagall rubbed her somewhat withered fingers against her temples.
"Yes, Potter, I know that Professor Snape sometimes makes things difficult for you, and you two don't get along, but that's no reason for you to slander him.
"Every professor deserves respect, even if you don't like him."
Professor McGonagall hesitated for a second or two before saying this.
Perhaps she was thinking of a certain professor who taught Divination.
Professor McGonagall now believed he was talking complete nonsense.
"I might need to restrict your activities to prevent you from doing anything foolish.
"It's not very peaceful outside right now."
She shook her head again.
Professor McGonagall rambled on and on, then her expression suddenly turned serious.
"Argus?" she called toward the door.
The elderly caretaker soon heard Professor McGonagall's call and hurried in, carrying his beloved pet, Mrs. Norris, in his arms and a lantern that had been extinguished for who knew how long in his other hand.
"Ahem."
Professor McGonagall coughed lightly twice.
Then she picked up a quill, wrote a sentence on a piece of paper, and handed it over.
"Please inform them for me."
Professor McGonagall gave Filch some instructions.
"Yes, Professor."
Filch bowed to Professor McGonagall and then left the office.
Sometimes, a person's value is revealed when they are given something to do.
"Alright, Harry, stop worrying about Professor Dumbledore. You should be worrying about your studies now."
Professor McGonagall adjusted her thin, black-rimmed glasses.
"From my observations, if you want to become an Auror, you still need to work hard. You must achieve excellent grades in at least four subjects."
Professor McGonagall then picked up a sheet from her desk containing all the students' grades.
With a flick of her finger, the ink on the parchment automatically spread out and then coalesced, revealing all of a student's grades from enrollment to the present, including any honors earned for their House and points deducted.
"Your Potions studies are dangerous…" she said, staring at Harry's grades.
Professor McGonagall then gave Harry a long lecture, tormenting him for half a day. It was only when the first class was about to begin that she finally let him leave.
Harry, however, hadn't listened to a word.
He was now preoccupied with figuring out how to get the news to Dumbledore.
He immediately sought out Ron and Hermione to discuss countermeasures.
Only these two friends would trust him unconditionally.
Coincidentally, he bumped into them in the hallway.
The three of them hid in a secluded corner beneath a tall warrior statue and began to talk.
It wouldn't be quite accurate to call it a conversation. Most of the time, Harry was the only one speaking.
After he finished, Hermione didn't offer any opinion. She stood silently in the corridor for a while before suddenly saying,
"Alright, Harry, we should go to our History of Magic class now. It seems we're going to be talking about the origins of the medieval umbrella spell today."
Hermione winked at Harry.
Harry and Ron immediately understood.
Behind them, Snape dragged his long black robes down the corridor, ignoring them completely.
"We'll find a suitable place to talk about this later," Hermione said quickly in a low voice, raising a finger and waving it in front of Harry's eyes.