6. NEW CASES.

After the initial thrilling case, Harry's workload had dwindled, and he found himself handling mundane tasks.

A husband had requested proof of his wife's infidelity, a situation easily confirmed with a day's observation.

Another client suspected her house had ghosts, yet it turned out to be a mere rat infestation and electrical issues worsened by nearby train vibrations.

An elderly lady sought a fortune reading, which Harry, not adept in divination, performed reluctantly, ultimately refusing payment when he foresaw the Grim in her teacup.

As time passed, summer faded into fall, bringing the approaching Halloween, a day Harry dreaded, wondering if his curse would linger in this new reality.

The doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Emily Thompson, their potential client, entered the office. Harry observed as Domino conversed with her, and just before they could knock, Harry took a cue from Dumbledore and welcomed them in.

"Mrs. Thompson, please, do come in."

Harry did his best to hide his mirth at the woman's flabbergasted expression.

"Please sit down, Mrs. Thompson. Would you like something to drink?"

She reminded Harry of what his aunt Petunia aspired to be: a woman of means and respect.

The woman sat across from Harry. She was white, well-dressed, wearing expensive-looking jewelry. She sported a calm and collected expression that didn't quite reach her eyes.

Her eyes were red from irritation, likely due to crying, and heavy makeup attempted to hide bags under her eyes.

"How did you know my name? I gave your … assistant …" she said these words with a level of disdain that Harry was all too familiar with. "... a false name."

"It's what I do for a living," Harry answered simply. "So, what can I do for you?"

The woman seemed to consider her words carefully, her hands nervously clutching her purse.

"This is ridiculous. I don't know what I was thinking coming here. You and that girl are just children." With this, she stood up and made to leave his office.

"Emily!" Harry exclaimed softly, causing the woman to stop in surprise.

"Something is obviously bothering you. You look exhausted, and you're desperate enough to have walked into a shady-looking business looking for help. Please, sit down and tell me your story, and we can see if it's anything I can help you with."

The woman hesitated, then settled back into her seat. Harry took out a pad of paper and a fountain pen, waiting patiently for her to start explaining.

"It's…oh god! I can't even begin to explain. It sounds so stupid," the woman started, clearly distressed.

"Just start from the beginning. You'd be surprised by the things I've seen or heard," Harry comforted her.

The woman stood and moved to the window, gazing at the busy street below. After a moment of silence, she spoke softly.

"For the past month, my husband and I have been tormented by nightmares." She paused, glancing back at Harry to gauge his reaction.

Harry looked up from his notes and nodded, urging her to continue.

"Every night for the past month, we've been haunted by nightmares. Last week, my husband never woke up. He's in some kind of coma at the hospital. The doctors can't figure out what's causing it."

"Can you recall anything from the dreams?" Harry inquired.

"No, it's all fuzzy. I think it involved being chased in a maze, but I can't remember clearly," she explained, sinking back into her seat.

"Did your husband have similar dreams?"

"No, he mentioned his involved fire in some way," she replied, settling back into her chair.

"And it's the same dream? Every night?" Harry asked.

The woman simply nodded.

Harry finished his notes and pondered. He had enough materials left over to brew a few doses of Dreamless Sleep Potion, but his reserves of standard ingredients, as well as Flobberworm mucus, were currently irreplaceable. The standard ingredients, a common mix of magical herbs, could not be found in this reality.

"Maybe I'm looking at this the wrong way—treat the cause and not the symptom," Harry whispered softly to himself. Harry could extract the memory and replay it in his Pensieve, but that might be too obviously magical. After his rather Gryffindorish first case, a more Slytherin approach would be needed. Of course, there was nothing for him to blow up yet.

Taking another page from Dumbledore's book would unfortunately require using a skill he was dreadful at.

"I'd like to try something with you. I'd like to try and bring the memory of your dream back. Are you willing to try?"

"You mean like hypnosis?"

"Something like that," Harry agreed, deciding that would be close enough to the truth.

"What do I need to do?" she asked.

"Please sit down. Now, I need you to clear your mind of thoughts and focus only on your memory of the dream. When you're ready, I need you to look me in the eyes," Harry directed.

The woman closed her eyes and steadied her breathing.

While the woman had her eyes closed, Harry silently cast a very mild Cheering Charm, hoping it would have more of a calming effect.

Harry observed as some of the tension left the woman's shoulders, indicating her worries were seemingly lessened.

The woman slowly opened her eyes and nodded at Harry.

Harry looked deeply into her eyes and silently cast his spell, entering the woman's mind.

Inside, Harry found himself floating in an endless black starfield. Each star represented a memory.

The woman had done an impressive job focusing her thoughts solely on the memory of her dream. Only a few other memories floated around Harry.

He approached the nearest sphere, peering inside without entering the memory itself.

Within, Harry saw a hospital scene: a man lay on a bed while a doctor spoke to the woman.

Pushing the memory away, Harry searched for another. In this one, the woman was seated at her kitchen table, reading the mail. There was hospital correspondence, but what caught Harry's attention was the flyer she was reading. It was made of parchment and bore his name.

Intrigued, Harry entered the memory.

Unlike a Pensieve, Legilimency confined the user to their victim's perspective, acting as a mere observer without the ability to interact.

The early morning light streamed into the kitchen through its windows. Soft music played from the radio, accompanied by the DJ's forecast indicating the cold weather of only two days prior.

Harry focused on the pamphlet in the woman's hands. It was made of velum, discernible by its texture, and adorned with colorful calligraphy, as if hand-painted with elegant brushstrokes and vivid inks.

"Harry Potter, wizard for hire! Problems solved with arguable efficiency."

One side of the scroll featured a highly stylized silhouette of himself, while the other held Harry's address.

What concerned Harry was that neither he nor Domino had created a flyer, and he hadn't used parchment or velum since arriving in New York, favoring the convenience of modern paper.

Disengaging himself from the memory, Harry searched for the one that could reveal how she acquired the document but was unable to locate it.

Realizing he had spent enough time on this, Harry refocused on the primary task. Among the few memories clustered around, he finally found the one he had been seeking.

Harry delved into the dream and felt the woman's intense panic. It was nighttime, and they were racing through a tall hedge maze. The memory seemed more vivid than typical dreams or memories under Legilimency.

A deafening, unearthly roar echoed in the distance, accompanied by the thunderous sound of hooves hitting the ground.

Running desperately, branches whipped at the woman's exposed body, scratching and cutting her bare feet as she dashed through the maze.

Suddenly, Emily halted. Ahead stood a man with disheveled, spiky gray hair, pallid skin, wearing green attire with a ragged cloak. His frighteningly thin figure bore a deranged grin, and his pitch-black eyes seemed to absorb any available light.

"What have we here? A new addition to my collection?" The man's laughter was chilling, sending Emily darting down another path.

The creature's voice echoed, "No use running. You can't escape."

Harry sensed the woman's fear and desperation as the dream replayed in his mind.

The creature's laughter echoed from all around, causing Emily to collapse, overwhelmed by fear and sobs.

Frightened by something rapidly approaching, Emily struggled back to her feet.

Despite Harry's attempt to exit the memory, it resisted. Emily fell again and turned to confront her pursuer.

The creature appeared like a demonic mix of a centaur, its form twisted and grotesque. Its horse-like body bore a disturbing feature indicating its intent.

The creature menacingly advanced towards Emily, who scrambled away in terror.

Harry forcefully removed himself from the memory, and Emily fainted onto his desk.

Domino hurried into the room, armed with a pistol.

"What the heck is going on in here?!"

Harry took a few calming breaths before answering.

"That's what I'd like to know."

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(edited chapter.)

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