(I usually try to avoid author's notes until the very end, but since there was a correction, I am going ahead now. Special thanks to Lady Cougar-Trombone for pointing out that there is only one Head Boy and there is also a Head Girl. I blame the fact that I'm a Yankee on this error. So, in the previous chapter, the correction has been made.)

The next few weeks at Hogwarts were the most challenging that Persephone had ever encountered. Watching after Dumbledore wasn't very difficult as he spent a great deal of time in his office. Plus, she traded guard duty with Kingsley to give Moody and Sample plenty of opportunity to continue her education as an auror. Every morning, Sample instructed her to do push ups.

"How many?" she asked.

As always, he spoke simply. Never did he yell. His insults were finely veiled. Even as a training coach, he was a proper English gentleman, versed in the finer points of politesse and decorum. "Until you feel like death." She didn't ask again, and she did pushups until she couldn't do anymore. More than once, he would would nudge her hands. "Never on the palms of your hands. Always on your knuckles. That is unless of course, you don't like your cartilage. There you go, elbows tight in your sides. Just like that. It's only painful at first. You get used to it."

After this, she would meet Professor Dumbledore every morning and then accompany him to breakfast. Barty Crouch was there at the same time every morning with the Slytherin prefects. All of the school prefects were there every morning with the Head Boy and the Head Girl. The Head Girl was a Gryffindor named Gwenog Jones. At first she thought that the Ravenclaw girl's prefect, Hestia Jones was Gwenog's sister, but she had been assured there was no relation, and they didn't look related either.

Persephone certainly remembered Gwenog. She was one of the Gryffindor's beaters and had a thing for picking on seekers. She had sent more than one bludger Persephone's way over the years. She had a crease just behind her left ear that came courtesy of one of Gwenog's bludgers. Persephone smiled at the memory of her fourth year match against Gryffindor. Just as she had seen the snitch, a bludger smashed into the side of her head. It had given her a mild concussion, but she ignored the pain and the dizziness and kept after the snitch. That was when Gwenog smashed headlong into her. This was supposed to be a battle between seekers. What was a beater doing in it? Of course, she was trying to keep Slytherin from winning. Madam Hooch had called foul, but it was too late, Persephone had already got the snitch despite Gwenog's efforts. Slytherin won 240 to 190. People said it was the best match seen at Hogwarts in 100 years. It lasted until three in the morning. Persephone would bet people were still talking about it.

The first day of her return, Dumbledore returned with her to his office and he bade her to sit. "I understand that Eugene has exhausted you before the day has even begun."

Persephone said, "I think breakfast was the first break I had in two months."

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "Eugene always seems to have a very gentle approach, until you find yourself at his mercy, and see what a taskmaster he can be. Really, there are none better for the job of training the future defenders of our world. The most important part of your education will be to defend yourself, and that is what he teaches. We very rarely ask the question, 'What will you do if your wand cannot help you?' but aurors are trained under this very premise. In the life a protector, the time will come when you will be deprived of your wand. You will have some magic but will be at a severe disadvantage. If you do not know how to use them, what will you do if you have only your hands to protect yourself?"

Persephone didn't have an answer for that, and as he said it, she realized that thanks to Eugene, she at least had the strength to fend an attacker off. Then it occurred to her that Eugene had already begun teaching her to fight with her hands. Didn't that obstacle course at the Ministry require her to use her hands as much as her feet?

"Of course, there is one weapon that is more important than any other. One that you cannot be deprived of except in the most extreme of circumstances, and should those circumstances arise then your situation is truly desperate. I am speaking of the mind, and in the profession you find yourself in, you will find that your mind is your most crucial asset, and it is imperative that you be able to defend it. That is why you have come here. Learning to close one's mind is an incredibly simple task. Yet, it is almost impossibly hard. Wizards and witches who have the talent for occlumency and legilimency come by it naturally. It can be taught, but if you don't have the aptitude, it will be extremely difficult.

"There is no course schedule, no preferred teaching, as the same methods almost never work on more than one student. There are teachers who would teach occlumency by creating an environment of crisis, that is to say that they repeatedly break into the student's mind until he or she, becoming frustrated and upset, eventually defend themselves out of desperation. Indeed, it is a method that works, but it's rate of success is, shall we say, wobbly. I have seen the way you think over the course of the past seven years, and the way you learned, and have determined that, although you would benefit from the crisis method, require a more subtle approach. That, plus I do not feel that torturing my students could ever be an effective means of education.

"So let us start by examining the mind." Dumbledore folded his hands together and said, "An occlumens seeks to conceal her mind from intruders, just as you would hide secret writings in a locked diary, or important documents in a bank vault. It is important to note that a door cannot be closed unless you can control the door, either by swinging it with your hands or by some other mechanical means. You will have undoubtedly deduced where I am going with this, but it stands to reason that in order to conceal your mind, you must be able to control it. Can you control your mind, Persephone?"

She opened her mouth to answer but then closed it lamely. "Umm, is this a trick question?"

Dumbledore simply smiled serenely. "I believe that you, like so many, are convinced that the mere act of thinking is controlling one's mind. It is not. In fact, thinking suggests a lack of control. Always we tell our students to use their minds, to think, but we fail to note the paradox in such a statement. In fact, is very difficult, nigh impossible, to NOT use our minds, and to NOT think. In almost every case, acts of what we call thoughtlessness actually comes from over-thinking, or worse, distraction, which is the act of thinking about more than you should be thinking about.

"Therefore, in this class, we are going to endeavor to do precisely the opposite of what teachers try to teach. We are going to learn how to NOT think. I want you to attempt this now. Do the best you can. Do not worry if you do not succeed. That would be a monumental feat. I merely ask that you try. I want you to sit and not think. Don't think of nothing. Thinking of nothing is still thinking. Simply don't think."

With this, Persephone nodded and sat in silence. The Death Eaters, her training as an auror, everything, she pushed it out of her mind. Then again wasn't that thinking? Wasn't deliberately ignoring something an act of thinking? Okay! She wouldn't push those things out. She'd just sit and let her mind idle. She wouldn't think of Dumbledore watching her pensively, or Fawkes snoozing on his perch. She wouldn't think of the paintings of the headmasters that pretended to sleep, only to occasionally peak to see what was happening. The problem was that she was thinking of all of those things.

So she closed her eyes and stared into blackness. The afterimage of Dumbledore faded and she sat in silence. Yes, if she couldn't look at anything, she could keep from thinking about it, and for a moment, she wasn't thinking, and then almost immediately, her right temple started to itch. Then she readjusted in her chair as her leg had started to go numb. She tried again, ignoring the itch, ignoring any discomfort her body may have felt, and again, for a brief moment, she wasn't thinking, and then images began to swim before her. These were random images from her memory and she tried to force those out of the way. She tried again. She ignored the itch, ignored the discomfort, did nothing about the random images, except now, she felt compelled to recall those images.

Professor Dumbledore said, "It's not so easy, is it? After this experiment, let me ask you again: can you control your mind?"

Persephone sheepishly said, "No."

"Of course not. When you are thinking, you are opening up the mind for all to see that are able. When you are not thinking, the mind wanders aimlessly, distracting you with the slightest of irritations. Before I can teach you to close your mind, you must first learn to NOT think, and ultimately, how to think correctly. In order to do that, we must learn how the mind works. The best teacher is experience and observation, but I feel it is safe to tell you that the state of the body directly correlates with the state of the mind. If your body is agitated, then so will be your mind, and vice versa. If your body is calm, your mind will be also. Now, I want you to relax, breathe deeply, and steadily, and then try again. Your goal is to silence your mind."

Persephone did as she was instructed, breathing deeply, and steadily, counting to regulate her breathing, and she tried to not think. She had the same difficulty as before, in fact the exact same problems, but this time, once she started seeing random images again, she let them flow. She didn't try to stop them, but she counted them, just as she counted and timed her breathing.

"Very good," said Professor Dumbledore. "You did not silence your thoughts, but you did something you were unable to accomplish before. You steadied them. What did you do differently?"

"Aside from breathing, I counted. I counted the seconds for each breath. I counted each breath. I counted every time I thought of something."

"You measured and metered your mind's activity. Like a drummer guiding music, you created a rhythm for your mind to follow. Instead of your mind distracting you, you distracted your mind. This should tell you something about how the mind is assembled. It would be easier to describe these aspects of the mind as your 'selves'. The question is, how many of your 'selves' are there? Can you answer that?"

Persephone shook her head no.

"Well then, let's count them. First, there is you. You are the one trying to do these exercises. You are the one trying to not think. You are the one being distracted by the mind, which reveals your second self; your physical mind as whole, who actively seeks to sabotage your efforts, who refuses to be silent, who will not be still, and will not be controlled. Now, you have a third, less obvious self in there; one that you may not have noticed, and people rarely do notice this third self. This self is the Observer. Can you think of where she was?"

Persephone thought for a moment and then suddenly realized that the answer was obvious. "The Observer was the one counting."

"Precisely! You were breathing carefully. You were trying to not think. You could not manage it, so that part of you that acts as an impartial observer, made an effort to monitor and regulate what you were doing. When you counted, that was you stepping outside of yourself to see what you were doing wrong and to try and correct the problem. You did it almost without thinking, didn't you? This is your higher awareness and this is what you must awaken if you are to learn to control your mind. There are a number of ways to access this aspect of yourself. I want you repeat this exercise in your free hours, whenever you are able, and not just that. Use your imagination. There are a number of exercises you could do that require the Observer's participation. Why, counting sheep to go to sleep is just such an exercise. For now, the rest of the time we have alone today should be spent on this endeavor."

The experiment had certainly been enlightening and Persephone realized for the first time that there were aspects of her that she had no idea existed. She had always heard the Ancient Greek saying, "Know thyself", and thought this would have been the easiest of tasks. She always thought it was easy to know ones belief's or ones values, or what one wanted. Then, her own failings, becoming a Death Eater and changing her opinions of Voldemort's vision, had shown her that it wasn't always so easy. Now, she wasn't sure if it was truly possible to know oneself. Professor Dumbledore's lesson had made her feel woefully inadequate, had made her see just how little she really knew, and made her realize that she knew absolutely nothing about herself. It would be at the end of the school day that she would resume her animagus lessons.

Sample with his one free hour joined Persephone and Dumbledore. Persephone's education as an animagus, Sample assured her, could not predict her success. While Dumbledore observed serenely, Sample did all that he could to help Persephone identify with the raven. He even had her act out the bird's mannerisms, acting out flight, pretending to have a fixation for shiny objects, and such. Professor Dumbledore, who had been a transfiguration professor in his day, was a bevy of advice, but this was only to be expected.

Of course, the time came when Sample's class schedule became so much that his instruction to Persephone became uneven. Professor McGonagell, who was the only other animagus in the school, assisted with Persephone's education. The day for her to attempt her transformation came sooner than she expected. Strangely, Dumbledore's occlumency lessons would help, for in his lessons about disciplining the mind, he also began teaching her to try to not just think like other people but to imagine that she was them. His exercises were quite elaborate for simply thinking and using one's imagination. It was also revealing, for she was often asked to imagine herself as someone who had an unflattering opinion of her.

As for McGonagell's lessons, that were every bit as informative and intensive as Sample's lessons, Persephone had never imagined that a single act of transfiguration could be so complicated. The warnings that her lessons contained served to terrify. The dangers were ominous. Losing one's identity was only one concern. Botched transfigurations were often irreversible. Then came the rules of conduct.

"Are these rules for real?" asked Persephone one evening.

"Of course they are for real, Ms. Terry," said Professor McGonagell. "The Ministry wouldn't have seen fit to require them if they weren't for real."

Persephone raised an eyebrow. "So once I'm a raven, I'm really going to be romantically attracted to other ravens?"

"Well, it's only logical. Once you are a raven, you will take on the mannerisms of the bird you are transfiguring into. You will have the same instincts and urges. You must resist these. History is full of the aftermath of those animagi who couldn't control their urges."

"Really? Where?"

"Oh, do use your common sense. Where do you think centaurs come from? Why do you think harpies are part human and part chicken? Anything that is half human and half animal is the result of animagus/beast crossbreeding."

Now that Persephone thought of it, it did make sense. "Well, since you put it that way...I can imagine the trouble a cat can get into."

"Don't get cheeky." Professor McGonagell walked over and pulled Persephone's book away from her. "The rules are a guideline to behavior. Right now, we're worried about pulling off the transformation. Let's go over it. The initial catalyst for transformation..."

Persephone nodded. "There are two types. The easiest method is basic transfiguration using a wand with the form changing spell, veraverto. The second type is more complicated and requires a deeper understanding of your animal form, using the internal magical workings of the witch or wizard. It works on the thought-form principal, or how an untrained magical child may do magic without a wand and without quite understanding how. Of course, the animagus must understand how if the transformation is to be successful."

"Very good. Now obviously, the second method is going to have tremendous advantages over the first method. First, even deprived of your wand you will still be able to transform, and understanding this procedure will illuminate other methods of magic that may be employed without a wand. The usefulness of such knowledge cannot be overestimated. Of course, few drawbacks means great danger. What remains for you is to choose your catalyst."

"Thought-form."

Professor McGonagell paused, taken aback. She hadn't quite anticipated that Persephone would answer so readily. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely."

McGonagell nodded firmly. "You understand the methods of transfiguration as well as I could hope. I know that much having taught you through your O. W. L.s and your N. E. W. T.s. You have demonstrated an intimate knowledge of the raven that few but experts could claim. Any further study on your part prolongs the inevitable. Now, this isn't like other magical workings. For an animagi's transfiguration, you must succeed your first attempt. Failure could be quite horrific. There are many wizards who do partial animal transfigurations on themselves. They don't realize the risk and a percentage of them always end up permanently disfigured. If nothing happens, then you don't understand how to call forth the magic, and in your case, that is highly unlikely. You have always had an understanding of thought-forms that the most brilliant wizards and witches in history would envy. You know how to will things to happen. Imagine yourself as a raven. Use your child's imagination to imagine yourself with feathers, imagine your beak, imagine your clawed feet-not talons! Crows are not raptors and don't have talons-and then just as when you were a child, need it to be real."

"Should Sample be here for this?"

"I can see no real reason except if he had a need to personally see this through, which he's indicated he doesn't. He wants it to happen as safely and expediently as possible."

Persephone nodded. "Okay." She closed her eyes and imagined flying through the sky, wind racking her body and flowing through her pinions and quills. The ground rushed underneath her, the roads like simple lines etched into the ground, the unnaturally square grids of a town like an image on a canvas. She opened her eyes and let the images follow her into the room, and now she wasn't flying. She was hanging on to the back of a chair with clawed feet. She now faced Professor McGonagell, whose face was inscrutable. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't seem to will her imagination to become reality. She huffed in disappointment.

She asked, "Should I try again?" but instead, her voice came out as a grating squawk. She tried to ask again with the same results. She waved her arms, and instead of hands cutting the air, inky black wings buffeted around her.

"Congratulations, Ms. Terry," said Professor McGonagell. "That was absolutely perfect. Do you care to try your wings out?"

Persephone jumped for the rafters, but in spite of her flapping wings, she plummeted to the floor, catching herself on her wingtips. She tried again, but her flapping only made the dust on the floor swirl around her. She reminded herself of how baby birds learned and that having been a bird for only one day, she certainly qualified as a baby. McGonagell watched patiently as Persephone climbed the desk leg, her claws holding onto the smooth wood perfectly. From there she got a running jump and flapped vigorously as she fell. On several flaps, she felt the wind resist her plummet and she endeavored to hold her wings in that position. Just inches from the floor, she began to rise, and she found that it took little effort to reach the rafters."

McGonagell said, "Excellent!" clearly elated. "Now, before we go any further, might I recommend that transform back-"

Persephone the raven quickly flew out the open window and began to circle the castle. Continual flapping helped her maintain speed, but tired her out quickly, so she glided. She found that if she wanted to go fast, she could change her gliding trajectory into an angle of descent, by which she would pick up speed just as effectively as if she flapped. She felt the same joy from this as she did riding a broom, except she this time, flight wasn't dependent on a device. She was the device. She circled castle again and flew over the Forbidden Forest. Two thestrals rose from it. She knew they hunted birds, but these were Hagrid's thestrals and they were trained not to bother birds. The owls that belonged to the students weren't, though. Ravens were scavengers and therefore fair game to the predatory owls that the students and the schools kept. Owls were a type of falcon, and very quickly two eagle owls had spotted the lone raven in the area.

They were on her quickly, before she had even spotted them. It would be just her luck if her first day as a raven ended with her being eaten by a predator. The first owl grabbed her by the shoulder, and she quickly spun around and dug her claws into his underside. The owl's talons dug into her wing, and she pecked his breast, drawing blood. The owl, surprised by the resistance, let go. The second owl was there to catch her, but she was ready for it. Righting herself, she buffeted it with her wings and racked one of his wings with her claws. As he slowly lost altitude and made his way for the castle rookery, she turned to see where the other owl went and found him coming back for a second attempt. She flapped hard and socked him on the side of the head and then pecked him between the eyes. He had had enough, and left shrieking in protest.

After that, she wasn't quite enjoying herself anymore and returned to Professor McGonagell's office. Her injured wing itched, but didn't hurt very badly and it still worked fine. She had been lucky. She looked down at her claws and found that she had pulled out several pinions from one of her attackers. No wonder he couldn't maintain altitude; she had clipped him.

"Now," said Professor McGonagell, "do you think you could transform back into a human?"

Persephone found that the process took no thought at all.

"Now that won't do. You've lost your disguise."

Indeed, McGonagell did seem taller. She turned Persephone to a full length mirror and she found that she was staring right back at herself. Looking around sheepishly, she pulled out her wand and restored her disguise and made herself taller once more. Professor McGonagell looked at Persephone's shoulder.

She sighed and said, "Well, they don't look like anything worth bothering Madam Pomfrey over. What on Earth possessed you to fly off like that?"

Persephone smiled sheepishly and said, "I don't know. I wanted to fly. That's been all I wanted since I decided to be a raven."

"I see. Perhaps you should reread the Ministry's booklet about controlling urges. I trust you've figured out what happens when you fly without considering everything that could happen. I'm doubly sure you'll look for predators from now on."

Persephone looked down at her feet. "Yes, ma'am."

"No need for that. That was an excellent transfiguration. What an unqualified success!"

"I really did it," said Persephone, still unsure of her own senses.

"You most certainly did, marvelously." McGonagell stood firm. "You still need practice and you need to practice regularly. Your body has to get used to the transformations before you can risk it unsupervised."

Persephone was pleased with her success. Sample and McGonagell admonished her never to transform in sight of anyone. The Ministry rules regarding the registration of animagi were incredibly strict, and Persephone wouldn't be the only one facing severe penalties if caught. As such, she had little time except to practice indoors as her duties as Dumbledore's bodyguard, false though they may be, required her to be visible when he was about and to be in certain places when he wasn't. Furthermore, she refused to go outside again until she learned to effectively fight as a raven. She had been extremely lucky in her previous encounter. Those eagle owls could have easily overpowered her. She had merely had the extreme fortune of pulling out enough flight feathers that one couldn't stay in the sky, and getting close enough to the other owl to hit him in a sweet spot.

Persephone imagined that her lessons were about to get harder, but for the time being, she basked in her success. She never imagined that she would become an animagus so quickly, but Professor McGonagell made it clear that this was one of those transfiguration lessons in which one can only learn so much and then she either does or she doesn't, and there's often not a second chance. Put that way, it only made sense that she learned to do it so quickly. Now, her accomplishments were becoming tangible, and she began to have the sense that she could do this. Before, she wasn't so sure would survive being a spy against Voldemort. Now, she felt as if she had a good chance.