Author's notes: A lot of what the contessa says and does is real although I have twisted most of it to suit my needs in the story. Memory Palaces are ancient mnemonic devices. Horace wrote of witches and a book of spells. Losna is the Etruscan name for a lunar goddess still used by the Janarra clan. Losna, aiutami Losna, help me.

Warning is for alcohol abuse (and a long, boring lecture).

Chapter 5: The Lecture

A full minute passed as Calyxa stood motionless and unnoticed in the doorway of Minerva's classroom watching the intimidating old witch reading students' homework assignments. Always had she been a comfort, for under that brusque, no-nonsense manner, Minerva McGonagall had a good heart and generous soul. Just being in her presence soothed Calyxa; however, a difficult favor now needed to be asked. Drawing in a deep breath to bolster her courage, she moved into the room. The gentle rustle of her robes did not catch the professor's attention until she had neared the desk and found a seat.

"I hope I am not disturbing you, but I would like to ask for your help."

The older witch set down her quill. "My help? Why? Have the students been giving you any trouble?"

"No, not at all."

"Not even the Weasley boys?"

A tiny smile lightened Calyxa's face. Those twin boys reminded her of her brother, especially when he had been younger. From the beginning, though, she had been careful in her manner towards them, for she had noticed that one of them had a bit of a crush on her, and it would not do to encourage him. At least it was only one and not both. "Well, they are quite a lively pair, but they do cooperate most of the time."

"I'm astonished to hear it. Be sure to let me know if they don't."

"I shall." The younger lady drew in a breath like a senator about to make a speech. "Amanita goes to her father on the twenty-second of December. He will come here to collect her in the evening –"

"He'll come here?" asked Minerva in shock. "Not to the school!"

Calyxa studied her with a little frown, for Minerva McGonagall was not someone to give much credit to gossip columns. "I thought it would be acceptable. After all, the students will not be here. I cannot imagine one such as him in the village, but I shall arrange to meet him there if necessary."

The professor's thoughts showed clearly in the expression on her face. "Borodin della Toscana at Hogwarts?"

As always, having someone whom she respected thinking poorly of Borodin stunned Calyxa. On the other hand, his ancestry was certainly against him, and his ability to flay someone alive with his words had made him scores of enemies; moreover, he had endured the worst of the publicity when libelous stories in the newspapers branded them both as degenerates.

"Do you think I would have taken him as my husband if he were some kind of monster? The press has vilified him as a reprobate who beat me and engaged in unspeakable debaucheries, but the truth is only that we cannot live together because of our temperaments. I do not speak untruly. Minerva, he is the father of my child."

Minerva pursed her lips and nodded, turning over the situation in her mind. "Have you spoken of this with Albus?"

"Not yet," Calyxa admitted. "I shall, of course, ask him what he thinks."

"That would be best."

Now was the moment to ask her, so Calyxa took another deep, calming breath. "I would like to ask you to accompany me when I go to meet him. You are a formidable witch as well as a lady. Things are still difficult between the two of us, but he would not create an unpleasant scene if you were there. He has an unfortunate skill for insulting people when he is under stress, but he would not do such a thing to you."

"Em... of course I'll go with you." Minerva cleared her throat. "It is easily done even if unpleasant. Even if he insults me."

Calyxa smiled and sighed in relief. "I cannot say how grateful I shall be."

"In return, may I ask a favor of my own?"

"Certainly."

"The third and fourth years have been reading some of your writings and asking questions. Would you be inclined to come to one of my classes to answer some of their questions?"

Calyxa sat very still and looked at her with dismay. Answer questions in front of a class of students? "I should be delighted to help in any way," she replied.

"Filius will most probably want to bring his class along as well," continued the professor. "If so, it would be a tight squeeze in a classroom, but we shall use the Great Hall, if need be."

A rush of panic closed Calyxa's throat, and she clasped her hands together in her lap. Two deep breaths were necessary to regain her voice, and she wished she had something strong to drink. "I do not have any experience lecturing. Nor dealing with children of that age."

"No matter. We shall be there to keep them in line. It will be a good experience for the students, and I'm certain they'll enjoy the novelty."

The first snow of the season fell the night before Calyxa would speak to the students. When she rose in the predawn darkness, she smiled. How excited Amanita would be! In her dressing gown and slippers, she drew an armchair up to one of the windows and settled into the silence and the darkness.

Once she was at ease, she entered the vast halls of her own mind. Carefully, she filed away the memories and emotions of the previous day in new places; like all Janarra, she had constructed a Memory Palace when she was a small child, just as little Amanita had already begun learning to do. When she had examined and properly placed the memories, she sat in absolute and profound emptiness.

After her period of meditation, she got up to bathe and dress for the day. The silent, dark morning before Amanita woke was a perfect time to relax in a tub of fragrant, hot water and allow her mind to rest. The delicate repetition of actions in her toilette – rubbing lotion into her skin, combing and plaiting her hair, shaping her fingernails, applying her perfume – were soothing and restful rituals. Bit by bit, each step eased her into her day.

As stood before her wardrobe, she debated between wearing dark blue brocade or apple green velvet robes. She preferred brocade, but the green would be very pretty on a cold and snowy day. Postponing the decision, she set out her under things. The first time she had come to Hogwarts, her mother had packed finely woven, soft woolen underdresses and stockings for her. In Italy, witches wore silk underdresses and stockings in the winter and cotton in the summer without any stockings, so the woolen ones had seemed very strange until she had discovered how cold and drafty the school was. Then she had been glad to have them. Now, she smiled and thought of her mother as she set aside dark blue brocade and drew apple green velvet robes over her woolen underdress.

By then, Amanita was already yawning and stirring. Instead of bundling her up to walk outside in the fresh snow, Calyxa helped her get washed and dressed, and they sat by an open window to greet the day and say their morning prayer. Afterwards, Amanita could speak of little else than playing outside.

When they had returned from breakfast, Signora Chalaza came to take charge of Amanita for the morning and offered to take the little girl out to play in the snow. As soon as they were gone, Calyxa fetched a bottle of wine and quickly drank two glasses. What dementia, what idiocy, had possessed her when she had agreed to this? "Losna, aiutami," she said aloud as she poured a third glass.

What had started out as a simple request of Minerva's had snowballed into a nightmare of mythical proportions. In addition to Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, several other teachers had asked if they could bring their classes to hear her speak. Probably to have a break from teaching more than to listen to me. Then a few of her peers from the Ministry of Magic, having heard about her 'lecture' from their children or other relations who attended the school, had contacted Professor Dumbledore and asked if they might attend. But I am only to answer questions, she thought as she drank the third glass.

It was nearly nine o'clock in the morning, and she had drunk a half a bottle of wine in ten minutes. Losna, help me, she thought as she rubbed her hands over her face. Help me to find my strength. While not enough to make her drunk, she hoped that the wine would ease the burden of her ordeal.

With a deep sigh of resignation, she left the bottle and started for the Great Hall. Upon entering, she was shocked at how many people were gathered there to hear her speak, and she froze just inside the doorway. Taking a deep breath, she began to make her way up to the front of the Hall. As she passed the teachers on the right side of the room, she let her thoughts dwell on them instead of on the task ahead.

There was Filius with his students. As a schoolgirl, she had adored the gentle little wizard and had daydreamed that he was younger, much younger, so that she could marry him someday. Now, having actually been married and divorced and knowing quite a lot about men, she realized that he would not have been a good choice of husband for her, and she would have made a frightful wife for him. Even now, though, being near him made her feel peaceful and serene.

There was Severus, the opposite swing of the pendulum from Filius, keeping his students silent with the coldness of his glance. Some softness and vulnerability deep within him was well defended by scores of mechanisms that wounded anyone who got close. The familiar feeling of pity and affection washed over Calyxa as she looked at him. His mere presence caused her sharp pain that she had to take care to protect herself against, and she wondered how the poor man lived with himself. No wonder he was so lonely and miserable.

There was Sybill Trelawney, which surprised her, for although cordial to her face, the Divination teacher feared her and had already prophesized that she would lead a member of the staff and several underage students astray. Both Fred and George Weasley had consequently offered to be led astray, and she had found it necessary to speak gravely to them about inappropriate remarks.

There was Remus. She stopped walking and smiled when she saw him. Catching sight of her, he returned her smile and crossed the room to speak with her. Warm, he was, warm to her but trying to be cold and closed, although it was not working. By the Goddess, he is beautiful, she thought as he came over to her, and she felt exquisite sensations shimmering in every particle of her being. A deep, slow breath calmed her, but then he stopped in front of her. The sensations flooded her, both amorous and tender, and all her apprehension evaporated.

"Good morning," he said. "You looked a bit nervous when you first came in."

She laughed despite her best effort to resist. Should she say it was from the wine? Although three glasses of wine was not much for her, she imagined he would be surprised to hear she had drunk them so early in the morning. Should she tell him that he had that effect on her? Or would that be too flirtatious when she knew very well that he had no such interest in her? "I am not used to speaking in front of people, particularly in English."

"Wasn't it your intention to answer questions?" he asked as he turned to walk with her. "Isn't that why you wrote your book in the first place? And of course, the other articles?"

The thought of books, articles, and questions reminded her of what she was about to do. "Yes, of course, but I had thought that the written words were enough," she admitted with an involuntary tremor in her voice. "Or I had hoped."

A frown darkened his face, and he glanced at her with a worried expression. He was concerned about her, which filled her with a voluptuous sense of pleasure. "One of my students wants to ask a question about the nature of time. He's a bit shy and… well, it would be best to encourage him, I think. Shall I tell him to ask his question first?"

The gorgeous feeling of being near him shivered a little and was then still. "That would be lovely," she replied, struggling to contain her glowing happiness.

He smiled and reached to squeeze her hand. "Good luck," he told her, his warm, strong hand holding hers for a delicious moment as they gazed at each other. As he went back to his class, she clamped down hard on her emotions. Really, she had to concentrate on her subject and not let wine and tenderness affect her now! After all, he had made it crystal clear that there could never be anything between them but friendship.

There were Strom, Feakins, and Billings from the Department of Mysteries standing talking to Dumbledore. They would certainly be disappointed today with the simple questions and answers in her interplay with the students. If not that, then perhaps with her drunken and disjointed ramblings, she thought with a self-deprecating grimace. Then the sight of Dumbledore's dark red brocade robes distracted her for a moment. Such lovely, elegant robes! Such rich brocade! She was regretting wearing velvet now.

The distraction lasted only until they all shook hands with her and began the mindless small talk necessary at such events. She had great respect for Timothy Strom, a tall, white haired wizard of indeterminate years, but Colm Feakins irritated her with his cloying, glib manner. Farrar Billings, a tall, willowy, blond witch, was wearing fussy, formal robes of peacock blue and had her hair in a complicated upsweep. Trying to emulate me, mused Calyxa. A bit much for a morning lecture, though.

The three would be invited to stay for luncheon, no doubt. Thank the Goddess that Amanita would be there and would talk of nothing but snow. Nobody, not even Feakins, would be able to get in a word, she thought with a serene smile that did not reveal any of her agitated thoughts and tumultuous feelings.

Minerva stepped up to the podium and cleared her throat. "Attention. Attention, please." She had used a charm to amplify her voice and the Hall grew quiet. "Today, the Contessa di Janarra has kindly agreed to take time from her busy schedule to answer questions. Now, all of you have been reading some of her works and should have some interesting questions for her."

There was a polite smattering of applause as Calyxa approached her. "Can you do that for me?" she asked. "I am not accustomed to speaking to so large a group." The truth was that she was not used to speaking to a group at all.

Although she looked a bit surprised by the request, Minerva complied before going over to stand beside her students.

"Good morning." Calyxa began speaking slowly and clearly, hoping her amplified voice did not tremble. "As you are most probably aware, I was briefly a student here at the Hogwarts School, but that was for less than one year. I am Janarra, of course, but it is entirely possible that none of you know that name. There is an ancient alliance of three clans of witches: the Tanarra, Janarra, and Fanarra. We are Keepers of the Mysteries of Ancient Magic, the stellar, the lunar, and the earth mysteries. Thus it has been since before recorded time."

A hand shot into the air. The girl, Miss Granger, had not been permitted to participate in the research program because of her busy schedule, but she sometimes came to Calyxa's office to ask about Magical Theory. "The English translation of Stregharia by the Numbers says that the Triad Clans are mentioned in the writings of Horace. Does it really go back that far?"

"Horace, yes," replied Calyxa, startled by the question. "The Roman poet. Yes of course." Her mind raced to retrieve the facts. "Quintus Horatius Flaccus. Horace. Well, I am no historian, but about two thousand years ago, he wrote of Italian witches and of their book of spells, which he called Libros Carminum. In fact, the oral tradition goes back far further, long before the founding of Rome, to the Etruscans. But that, perhaps, is a subject better left for a history lecture."

A tiny boy sitting with Remus's class raised his hand. "Ma'am, could you explain a little more about the linear time and cycle-call time?" The poor thing looked ready to die of fright and his voice shook as he tried to pronounce it correctly.

"Certainly. An excellent topic." She smiled at the little boy, but she was thinking how crafty Remus was, knowing that she would have to take her mind off her own worries in order to reassure the child. How dear he was! The sweetness of her feelings allowed her to relax despite the many eyes watching and the many ears listening. She had written extensively about the concept of time. Explaining the basics would not be too difficult. Withdrawing into the cerebral, analytical function of her mind, she accessed her Memory Palace for her academic ideas regarding the subject.

"Time differs in the perception of different cultures, and I believe that we Janarra and our cousins have a different worldview than your culture does. One of the basic differences is the way we see time. Time is measured in the modern world as linear, as always moving straight ahead second by second, minute by minute, day by day, year by year. All of this is misleading and these measurements really exist only in our minds.

"If you had no calendar and no clock, how would you determine the passage of time? You would notice the changes in the natural world. The movements of the earth and the change of sunlight turn the world from day into night. The movements of the moon through her aspects indicate the passage of months. The seasons cycle round upon themselves over and over with the passage of years. These are the true measures of time, not the precision of nanoseconds.

"The linear measure of time is necessary for modern life; however, it is a bit ridiculous how the rules have been convoluted in order to make them work. The rules for leap years alone are enough to boggle the mind. The result is quite serious, though. Modern magic depends on linear time, and the awkwardness of the measurements weakens everything we do. It is not so urgent with daily spells to clean or to organize, but the more powerful magic, which is part of the very fiber of the universe, needs the natural cycles of time in order to work correctly. With life, death, love, compassion, and wholeness, we cannot use linear measures."

Calyxa stopped. She was on the other side of the Hall. People told her that she paced when the ideas and words carried her away, and she sometimes caught herself doing it. Now, she had no recollection of pacing, but obviously, she had. Everyone was looking at her, which she had forgotten while she was speaking. Thank Losna for that!

Out of the raised hands, Minerva chose a tall girl over on the right. "What does duality mean?"

"Duality? Well, I am not skilled at giving definitions, and it is a word with different meanings in different fields. In the field of Magical Theory, duality is a belief in opposites. Duality is often a function of our minds. Take, for example, darkness and light. Our very definition of darkness depends on the existence of light. Yet what of one who is blind? There is no light for them, and, therefore, it is not a universal duality. Instead, it is a construct of our minds. As for magic, it is in the very fabric of our universe. There is no duality."

The students were frowning. They did not seem to understand.

"We cannot say that something does not have magic. All things have magic, you see. We just cannot always perceive it. Not yet."

They certainly did not like that answer. No, people generally liked things cut and dry: this has magic, and that does not have magic. The webs of the universe were complicated beyond human comprehension, which made them feel insignificant. Seizing these thoughts, Calyxa allowed herself a small, rueful smile. How condescending and supercilious her attitude was! Perhaps she had drunk too much? She had to be careful not to offend anyone.

"Ma'am?" A boy from Minerva's class was waving his hand. "What do you mean by 'limiting expectations'?"

"Limiting expectations. Yes. Well, it is an interesting concept similar to a self-fulfilling prophecy but more insidious." She looked around at them and searched for an example to make it clear. The idea came to her in a moment of clarity like Archimedes in his bath. "If we look at the familiar Hogwarts custom of students being sorted into the four houses, we see a useful way to separate small children into four different dormitories based on certain partially formed character traits. Unfortunately, the original has evolved into something unforeseen and often overlooked.

"Some people assign values or status to being sorted into a certain house. Disturbingly, some parents express displeasure with their children for the house into which they were sorted. More than that, this innocuous tool has become an enormous influence on shaping the characters and lives of those who pass through it. Why is it that the first question asked upon meeting a Hogwarts graduate is 'What house were you?'

"One might as well have been sorted alphabetically or by eye color, such is the arbitrary nature of this blunt tool that lumps together four quarters of the populace. Moreover, the simple act of dividing young children into different dormitories has repercussions on the rest of their lives. Instead of the complex, unique beings that we are, Hogwarts students are forever judged, evaluated, and limited by their houses. People say, 'Oh, he is a Ravenclaw,' or 'He is certainly a Slytherin,' to explain someone's behavior. It is a deeply ingrained prejudice that influences one's character. Everything in our environment affects the people we become, and the expectation to become like the perceived character of one's House is a very strong influence on a young person's life."

This answer was even less popular than the previous one. Such blistering criticism of the House system offended some of the staff as a personal affront. Perhaps I really did drink too much, she mused, searching for a way to soften her criticism.

"It is an example meant to show you how extensively our minds can prejudice us," she continued. "Also, it shows us how dramatically our characters can be affected by our own expectations and by the expectations of the society in which we live. The formation of part of our personalities, even."

The next question came from one of Filius's students. "What is the synergistic exponent?"

"Ah, this is something we have been working on here at Hogwarts," she enthused. "The concept of synergy is an important one in magic. It means that the effect of one person's magic does not merely double when added to the magic of another. No, instead the effect increases exponentially. It is not a new concept, but it is rarely considered.

"Take, for example, two of the student volunteers, the Messieurs Weasley. In the Bubble Destruction Experiment, both of these wizards were very adept. The average number of bubbles destroyed by students is twelve whereas each Mr. Weasley destroyed seventeen. Now, one would expect that their combined total, if they destroyed the bubbles together, would be approximately thirty-four. In fact, when united in mind and intent, the total was more than two hundred and ninety."

"Two hundred and ninety-two," called Fred.

"Yes, thank you," Calyxa laughed with everyone else. "The result was not a doubling of seventeen, it was seventeen raised to the second power, approximately two hundred and eighty-nine. Now, for us, destroying bubbles is a silly pastime, but it is only a simple experiment to highlight an important principle. There were only two wizards working together. Imagine a hundred. How many bubbles could be destroyed by a hundred witches working together with one mind? If the average is twelve, then twelve to the one hundred power, a quantity unimaginably large, a number so large that we do not have words to express it except in scientific notation – eight times ten to the one hundred and seven power. That is an eight with one hundred and seven zeroes after it."

"That's a lot of bubbles," called George.

Everyone laughed. "Far more than our imaginations can conceive," Calyxa continued. "It is not an easy thing to work together with one hundred others, but it is possible. When we Janarra all meet and concentrate on one thing, the result is electrifying, as you can imagine."

There was a loud buzzing of conversation as the students whispered together.

"We heard you knew Professor Snape at school," called a girl from way over on the right without raising her hand.

"That is true." She flashed a smile at the aloof Potions master. "He was just as immensely brilliant then as he is now and actually once assisted me in making a very complex potion." Severus seemed indifferent, but she could tell that he was quite pleased. The low buzz of students whispering behind their hands filled the room once again.

"Were you really engaged to Sirius Black?" a boy called from the back.

Calyxa's flesh grew cold and she stopped breathing as the Hall fell into a sepulchral silence. She recalled Lucius Malfoy's words to her – could it have been his son who asked the question? The Hall was too large for her to determine who had asked it. "Do you mean the escaped criminal?" she said in an amused voice that carried clearly to everyone in the sudden silence of the Hall. "I think that the Prince Borodin would be enough for anyone."

Laughter and a smattering of applause, she noted in relief even as she held her coy smile. Minerva came back to the podium to thank her and there was a heartier round of applause before the students were dismissed.

It was over, and she had endured it. With a huge sigh of relief, she closed her eyes and allowed her mind to relax. The worst was over, so the tedious small talk would be welcome. The usual serene smile appeared on her face and she turned to meet her colleagues.

Acknowledgements: As usual, thanks to Vaughn, Phoenix, and Clara Minutes for comments and corrections.