Master of Dreams and Mists.
Bridge Between Life and Death.
Symbol of Eternal Good Fortune.
These are the titles ordinary wizards give to gods.
As a lucky wizard myself, I've traveled with Him through magical realms no one else has ever known or set foot in. Now, let me tell you the story.
Sean turned the page gently.
Before I share my tale, it would help if you've already read Dream Tales.
I actually wanted to call this book Dream Tales: Revised Edition, but the publisher wouldn't grant the rights. I once accidentally wrecked their shop while retrieving my magical creatures—completely unintentional, I swear.
Sean's mouth curved into a faint smile. He read on with even more focus.
I'm certain the god is a cat.
Or perhaps a powerful magical being? I have no idea.
But great magic always leaves traces. If you're fortunate enough to meet Him, this book will have done its job.
Wizards always carry contradictory beliefs. When you step into the god's domain, remember that—it'll help. Positive faith guides a wizard forward. I believe only a pure wizard earns the god's goodwill. If a butcher or a murderer barges in, it might turn into a cruel punishment instead.
Why?
Sean's curiosity sharpened.
Then he stopped cold. He thought of Voldemort's soul fragment—and what happened to that piece of soul when he'd pulled Harry into the dream realm.
Sean lifted his head sharply. He looked toward the old Hufflepuff senior still surrounded by Hermione and the others, then glanced back at the page with fresh intensity.
He didn't know the senior's source, but the man was dead right.
If angels exist, then a wizard's soul carries an angelic side.
The opposite is also true—the soul has more than one face.
Among those faces hides a demonic counterpart, something magical history often links straight to devils. This is one clear example of the reverse soul.
According to scattered records, the reverse soul is either the devil itself or its most loyal guardian. When it's exposed or trapped, it usually flees through the nearest window, screaming as it goes, then vanishes.
This scene repeats in the legends of Morosina. When the female ghost or demon (like Morosina herself) is discovered, she disappears or escapes across the roof.
Sean sat stunned for a second.
Magic's history really was ancient. Mr. Scamander's words had been proven true.
The same moment existed in the original story.
Harry and Hermione were trapped by snakes, Voldemort close by. Harry ignored the glass slicing his cheek, grabbed Hermione, leaped from the bed to the dressing table, and jumped straight out the shattered window into empty air. Her scream echoed through the night as they spun mid-fall—
Then Harry's scar burst open. It felt like he was Voldemort, striding across the foul bedroom, long pale fingers clutching the windowsill.
He watched the man and the girl whirl away and vanish. Rage exploded from him—his shout mixed with hers, ringing through the dark garden and drowning out the Christmas bells from the church.
His shout was Harry's. His pain was Harry's.
In that instant Harry and Voldemort were each other's reverse souls. Sean had even learned the term: counterpart resurrection.
When a wizard enters the god's domain, we can be certain he stands completely naked. Only his soul is exposed. So the angel and the demon must fight it out.
The ugly truth? The angel doesn't win easily. Over time the angel is bound to lose.
That's why it's nearly impossible for a wizard to stay long in the god's realm.
Except—
Except for the god Himself.
Next, I'll tell you the god's story.
"Sean!"
Hermione and Justin jogged over with their signed copies, staring first at Sean, then at the book cover. Suspicion practically leaked from Hermione's face. Justin looked like he wanted to ask something but couldn't find the words.
"This is—"
Hermione puffed her cheeks.
"A black cat," Sean answered calmly, not the least bit bothered.
"Thanks. My eyes still work," Hermione shot back dryly.
She studied the young wizard up and down anyway.
Sean closed the book quietly. He'd already decided to buy a copy.
"Well then—"
"Hmph. Nothing," Hermione muttered, swallowing her questions.
Fine. Sean was always like this. If he thought they needed to know, he'd tell them.
Didn't mean she was giving up the investigation, though. She knew exactly who had dreamed that beautiful black cat—Ginny and Hannah. She'd figure it out herself.
Diagon Alley stretched long and cobblestoned, packed with the most tempting wizard shops in the world. Any witch or wizard could duck into a backyard, pull out a wand, tap the third brick from the left above the trash can, step back, and watch the archway open.
One of the most eye-catching stores today was the broom shop.
Quality Quidditch Supplies was surrounded by a crowd again.
Harry and Ron wanted to see what everyone was staring at, so they slipped inside. Sean stayed put, still absorbed in the book.
The others pushed through the excited witches and wizards until they reached a brand-new display platform.
A broom unlike anything they'd ever seen rested on it.
"Just released—" a square-jawed wizard told his friend.
"It's the fastest broom in the world, Dad, right?" a boy younger than Harry tugged his father's sleeve, voice squeaking with excitement.
"The Irish International Team just ordered seven of these beauties!" the shopkeeper announced. "They're going to be the stars of this year's World Cup!"
A big witch in front of Harry stepped aside. Finally he could read the sign:
Firebolt
This state-of-the-art racing broom features a streamlined design, premium ash handle hand-polished with diamond dust, and individually engraved registration numbers.
Every carefully selected birch twig in the tail is shaped for perfect balance and pinpoint accuracy.
The Firebolt accelerates from zero to 150 miles per hour in ten seconds and offers magically smooth braking.
Price on request.
Price on request. Harry started mentally calculating how many Galleons that would cost.
While he stared at the broom with hungry eyes, he didn't notice the witches and wizards around him.
He didn't notice the black dog that had appeared again.
Today—on the very day Sirius Black decided he had to buy a broom, on the very day Sirius clutched Dreams and Deities and gazed longingly at the wizard he followed—he had no idea.
In the beautiful dream he longed for, it was easy to get lost.
Because a wizard's soul isn't only light.
It also carries its dark side.
"When a wizard enters the god's domain, we can be certain he stands completely naked.
Only his soul is exposed. So the angel and the demon must fight it out—"