Professor Snape assigns detention to a handful of students with one simple instruction: clean out an abandoned storage room beneath Hogwarts that hasn’t been touched in decades. Among the forgotten books, shattered potion bottles, and dust-covered relics sits an old glass jar filled with a strange crimson powder. When Lorenzo Berkshire accidentally knocks it to the floor, the jar shatters, the powder dissolves into the air, and the room falls unnaturally silent. Nothing happens. Or so everyone thinks. Within days, students begin complaining about vivid nightmares. At first they’re little more than unsettling dreams that leave people exhausted and irritable. The dreams are strangely personal, preying on fears no one else should know. Every student dreams of something different, yet each wakes with the same overwhelming sense that something had been watching them. Then the injuries begin. Students wake with bruises they can’t explain, scratches that appeared overnight, and memories of pain they swear was only part of the dream. The Hospital Wing fills with victims suffering from exhaustion, panic attacks, and mysterious wounds no spell can heal. Rumors spread through Hogwarts faster than any owl ever could, and before long, nobody wants to close their eyes. Everything changes when a student never wakes up. Panic consumes the castle. Classes become quieter. The common rooms remain lit through the night as students desperately fight sleep, fueled by caffeine, potions, and fear. Friendships begin to crack under exhaustion. Hallucinations blur the line between dreams and reality. Nobody knows who’s imagining things anymore. The nightmare doesn’t hunt everyone equally. It grows stronger with fear. It learns. It remembers. And every night it comes back a little closer than before.