The Dreamer's Curse

His Successful Evasion

[Chapter 23]

Alice’s scream tore through the night. I jump from bed and rush to her side. 

“Alice, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” she smiled and drew her knees up. “Just a dream…”

It had been the fifth nightmare since Sirius Black’s funeral. Alice was not fine. I sat on the corner of her bed and began singing, just as I had done every night since.

There’s a Mulberry tree that blooms red in the summer

The breeze brings its scent from the sea.

Tears continued to flow unabashed from Alice’s eyes.

There my love for you is not tainted blue

By the mournful song the winter sings.

Alice sobbed into her pillow and called out for Sirius. I stroked her head, but I knew that no words could console her. She whimpered for Sirius again and again, but I could do nothing. 

When the journey is long and your spirit is weary,

Rest your heart on my sleeve.

Alice rubbed her belly gently.

Let the troubles come whilst the day is young

That you may sleep soundly when the sun sinks.

She began to hum along in between violent sobs.

And when the time doth come that I lie in deep slumber,

My love, please smile for me.

And when the dawn shall break, wipe your tears away.

I heed you to be brave.

“You mustn’t lose your muchness now, Alice,” I whispered when she’d calmed down. “Although Sirius is gone, you can’t give up.” 

I glanced at her stomach. 

“He wouldn’t want you to.”

…

Matt dialled Mr March from his cell phone, his breath forming steam puffs in the frosty air. The ever reliable Mr March answered on the second ring. 

“What’s happened?” his voice croaked from the other end.

“That book Fiddle’s been going on about? Well, I’ve found it.”

“Is it where it’s supposed to be?”

“Erm, you could say that…”

“Matt,” Mr March said, more alert this time. “Can you get the book?”

“There are ten Unpure Dreamers guarding the library entrance and one of me trying to get in. And they’re all awake. I’d more likely get killed than retrieve the book.”

“Fiddle won’t allow you to abandon the task.”

“What’s in that wretched book anyway?”

“I don’t know…”

Matt groaned into the receiver. “Alright, alright, I’ll get in.”

He shoved the phone back into his pocket and backtracked. The private library was arguably one of Fiddle’s most guarded treasures. He had often bragged about its vast collection and impressive security strategy. The former had made it easy for the Unpure Dreamers to find it, but the latter kept them from entering.