Emma Potter; Going to War

47: Dream Number. . .I've lost count

It was nearly four in the morning before the common room cleared. I felt wide awake — the image of Hagrid sprinting away into the dark was haunting me. I was so angry with Umbridge I could not think of a punishment bad enough for her, though Zoe's suggestion of having her fed to a box of starving Blast-Ended Skrewts had its merits. 

I fell asleep contemplating hideous revenges and arose from bed three hours later feeling distinctly unrested. 

Our final exam, History of Magic, was not to take place until that afternoon. I would very much have liked to go back to bed after breakfast, but I had been counting on the morning for a spot of last minute studying, so instead I sat with his head in  hands by the common room window,  read throughsome of the notes stacked three-and-a-half feet high . 

The fifth years entered the Great Hall at two o'clock and took our places in front of their overturned examination papers. I felt exhausted. I just wanted this to be over so that I could go and sleep. 

"Turn over your papers," said Professor Marchbanks from the front of the Hall, flicking over the giant hourglass. "You may begin. . . ." 

Question four was quite easy; In your opinion, did wand legislation contribute to, or lead to better control of, goblin riots of the eighteenth century?  I had a jolly good stab at question five: How was the Statute of Secrecy breached in 1749 and what measures were introduced to prevent are currence?

So, it moved on, My last question was; Describe the circumstances that led to the Formation of the International Confederation of Wizards and explain why the warlocks of Liechtenstein refused to join.

 I know this, I thought, though my brain felt torpid and slack. I could visualize a heading, in my handwriting: The Formation of the International Confederation of Wizards. . .  I had read these notes only this morning. . . . 

There were 15 minutes left.

. . . the first Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards was Pierre Bon accord, but his appointment was contested by the Wizarding community of Liechtenstein, because — 

Quills were scratching all around me. Mine among them. As I put the last  word and full stop and finally, finally rested my eyes. I  buried my face in my hands, so that the glowing red of my eyelids grew dark and cool.

I  was walking along the cool, dark corridor to the Department of Mysteries again, walking with a firm and purposeful tread, breaking occasionally into a run, determined to reach my destination at last. . . . 

The black door swung open for me as usual, and here I was in the circular room with its many doors. . . .Straight across the stone floor and through the second door . . .patches of dancing light on the walls and floor and that odd mechanical clicking, but no time to explore, I must hurry. . . . 

I jogged the last few feet to the third door, which swung open just like the others. . . .Once again I was in the cathedral-sized room full of shelves and glass spheres. . . . 

My heart was beating very fast now. . . . I was going to get there this time. . . . When I reached number ninety-seven I turned left and hurried along the aisle between two rows. . . .But there was a shape on the floor at the very end, a black shape moving upon the floor like a wounded animal. . . . 

My stomach contracted with fear . . . with excitement. . . .A voice issued from my own mouth, a high, cold voice empty of any human kindness, "Take it for me. . . . Lift it down, now. . . . I cannot touch it . . . but you can. . . ." 

The black shape upon the floor shifted a little. I saw a long fingered white hand clutching a wand rise on the end of my own arm. . . heard the high, cold voice say, "Crucio!"