"Ken?"
Dumbledore's voice pulled Avada back from his shock, reminding him that someone was still waiting for his answer."Ah—sorry, Professor. I spaced out for a moment."
"It's all right," Dumbledore shook his head. "Your spiritual power has suffered extremely severe damage. When I first saw your condition, I honestly wondered whether your life might be in danger… I should be the one apologizing for coming to question you so urgently, but this matter truly cannot be delayed."
"What happened, Professor?" Avada asked.
He gradually adjusted to the brightness of the hospital wing and slowly tried to open his eyes, finally seeing Dumbledore's aged face clearly. Whether it was just his imagination or not, the old wizard looked rather haggard.
"You are not the only one who collapsed," Dumbledore said in a low voice. "During the week you were unconscious, two other students also suddenly and inexplicably fell into comas. Their spiritual power was likewise damaged. Even now, neither of them has shown any signs of waking up. That is why I hoped to ask you about the cause of your collapse."
"Comas?" Avada tried to frown, but his facial muscles were still numb, so he gave up. "Not petrification or anything like that? Could it be related to what I saw…?"
"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "Professor Snape and I conducted very thorough examinations. We found no injuries that could be attributed to a basilisk. Instead, it resembles the damage caused by creatures that specialize in mental attacks, such as a Fwooper—but far more difficult to deal with."
"..."
Avada fell silent for a moment, a dull ache forming in his head.
"What I said back then…"He finally answered Dumbledore's question. "During Divination class, after seeing Professor Trelawney, I suddenly felt a kind of… resonance? A mental resonance. You know that I've always had a rather unusual sensitivity to spiritual power."
"Then I followed that sensation and began guiding my own spiritual power. After a while, I felt my prophetic ability being triggered again, like it was trying to show me something—but I couldn't quite see it…"
"So I pushed myself to guide that inspiration with everything I had, trying to complete the prophecy. After an unknown amount of time, I suddenly saw a massive burst of light… and then I collapsed."
"That's all."
"Using prophecy and seeing a mass of light before falling unconscious, with severe spiritual damage afterward… That's something I've never heard of," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard thoughtfully. After a moment, he asked, "Professor Trelawney claimed that you were offending time itself, peering into a forbidden domain. Do you have any thoughts on that?"
Offending time? I only reached the river of time by following her spiritual power. That should count as a normal divination process… I really need to properly study what true divination actually is. My knowledge is far too shallow right now.
Forbidden… What exactly was that giant sphere? Why does its substance resemble soul origin so closely? And why did seeing it allow me to perceive soul origin at all?
Forget it. There's no way to figure that out right now…
"No, Professor. I don't know what that mass of light was, nor why it appeared before me out of nowhere," Avada shook his head, looking genuinely confused. "If that thing counts as a 'forbidden domain,' then I suppose you could say I glimpsed a forbidden truth—albeit only for an instant."
"My prophetic ability is almost completely beyond my control. Doing something strange with it wouldn't be surprising."
"I see… Let me confirm one more thing. You believe you fell unconscious solely because of your prophetic ability, correct?" Dumbledore asked.
"I believe so."
"Did you experience anything else before losing consciousness? For example, hearing screams, locking eyes with something, or being subjected to Legilimency or another mental spell?"
"No."
Avada shook his head decisively, his hair rasping softly against the pillow.
"I understand. Then it seems the cause of your coma is different from the others'. I'm sorry to have disturbed your rest…"
"Wait, Professor."
Avada struggled to raise his hand, stopping Dumbledore as he was about to stand up. "May I see the other students? I've always been very sensitive to spiritual power—maybe I can notice something unusual!"
"You should be focusing on rest right now," Dumbledore refused without hesitation. "Your spiritual injuries are far too severe. If you don't recover properly, you may be left with permanent damage. Other matters are the responsibility of me and the other professors."
"Besides, the examinations performed on those students were extremely thorough. Professor Snape and I are not so incompetent that we would miss something obvious. You don't need to shoulder everything yourself—otherwise I, as headmaster, might as well retire."
After making that small joke, Dumbledore stood up and left the ward on his own, just in time to avoid being chased out by Madam Pomfrey.
"You're awake? How are you feeling?"Madam Pomfrey strode over briskly, pointing at a large basket of assorted items by Avada's bedside. "These are things your friends brought while you were unconscious. You can look through them later, but you're not allowed out of bed yet…"
"Uh… when can I be discharged, then?"
"At the very least, another week," Madam Pomfrey said earnestly. "I understand—young people always want to leap out of bed the moment they wake up, eager to run around or play a hundred rounds of Quidditch. But waking up from a coma only means the very first stage of recovery. It's nowhere near full healing. That youthful vitality is exactly how people burn themselves out."
"And spiritual injuries like yours require especially careful rest. If Headmaster Dumbledore hadn't insisted—and promised to speak with you only briefly—I wouldn't have let him in at all."
"Then… can I at least see my friends? I've been unconscious for a whole week…"
"No. You've already been awake long enough today. Here—drink this potion, then go back to sleep."
"…Glug, glug, glug."
…
Two full days later, Madam Pomfrey finally allowed him to get out of bed—though he still wasn't permitted to leave the ward. He hadn't eaten during those days, relying entirely on potions for water and sustenance, and he'd been awake only briefly at a time, so there hadn't even been a need to use the lavatory. By then, Baron, Cedric, and Harry were finally allowed in to visit him.
"Offending time, peering into forbidden knowledge… It all sounds awfully mystical," Baron muttered, propping his chin on his hand. The others nodded in agreement.
"Honestly," Cedric even hesitated before speaking, "Professor Trelawney's reputation has always been a bit… well… questionable. Anyone who's taken Divination knows that ever since she started teaching here, she's predicted several students' deaths every single year—and so far, nothing has ever happened. So there's really no need to take it too seriously…"
"Did she predict anyone's death this week?" Harry couldn't help asking.
"Doesn't seem like it," Shabby shook his head.
"Right, she didn't," Baron confirmed. "Though even if she didn't predict a specific person's death, she's been muttering nonstop about some great terror this year—saying it might kill everyone…"
"That can escalate even further?!"
"Why not…?"
"Hey, wait."
Seeing the conversation veering into increasingly absurd territory, Avada quickly cut them off. "I heard that while I was unconscious, some other people fell into comas too. Do any of you know what actually happened?"
(End of Chapter)