Adrift in a World
Chapter 9: Side-Effects of Mind-Delving
He burst into the Room of Requirement. He had lost something vitally important, and if would be anywhere, it would be here.
Sure enough, a trunk sat in the middle of the room, as if waiting for him to come and claim his missing belonging. He raced towards it and threw back the lid, hurriedly shifting past odd containers and half-full potion vials, books and brooms, newspapers and cracked inkpots...
Ah ha! He caught a small glimpse of what he was looking for, though he wasn't quite sure what it was himself. Perhaps his missing Sneakoscope, if he had ever had one. No, he had seen something that looked like a white feather and thought for an incredulous second that a snowy owl - 'Hedwig,' a voice in his head supplied - had somehow gotten lost in this seemingly bottomless trunk.
He reached forward to grab the tantalizing white object, and fell all the way in, cutting a path down through the miscellaneous stuff gathered by the Room, until he hit the ground, jarringly sudden.
He looked around at his surroundings in wonder. He saw a photo of a spacey blonde girl and a teen with black scruffy hair, walking aimlessly around the Lake, throwing lollipops on the surface of a large lake to seemingly tempt out some sort of creature.
He saw a witch with bushy brown hair and a wizard with red hair and a long nose, both sitting in the Library. The girl with a heavy text in front of her, biting her bottom lip as her eyes devoured the text, and the redhead, ignoring the book in front of him, leaned forward and blew into her ear, who shivered and sent a death glare at the redhead next to her, before her expression softened and she threw a crumpled piece of parchment at him.
There was a picture of a brown-haired wizard with a red and gold symbol on his robes and a nervous grin on his face dancing with a redheaded girl in the middle of a empty Quidditch pitch in the dead of night...Another of an older (though not very much so) witch with pink spiky hair talking with a gray- and brown-haired wizard before her eyes widened and she ran off to respond to an Auror call...A dark wizard with red eyes blasting open a doorway to a Muggle household...A man with ragged black hair and haunted eyes, falling in slow motion into a stone archway...
The pictures slowly changed, until they contained completely different people...A redheaded witch with blazing eyes chasing a stag down a hill...A girl with auburn hair and green eyes sneaking through a hallway with a tape recorder in hand...A group of four wizards--two with black hair and two with brown hair, grinning gleefully at a hook-nosed man with green hair...The same red-eyed wizard, though more human in appearance, aiming a beam of chilling green light at a family...A scarred, black-haired teenager, yelling at a room full of adults...
Was that him? He didn't know... It seemed almost as if he had been in this room, under the heaping trunk, forever...
"So?" Madam Pomfrey asked impatiently. "What was it?"
"Apparently," Remus said hesitantly, having drawn the short straw and being forced to act as mediator between the Mediwitch and everyone else, "the claws contained some sort of hallucinogen that knocked him out."
The witch glared at him. "A creature that injects people with poison that makes them delirious is just floating around the school? And no one noticed beforehand?"
"Erm, well, there's some debate about if Collins actually opened whatever place the Justern was in...I'll leave now," Sirius, had poked his head in to see if Remus was still alive, quickly left again.
"How is he?" Remus asked, looking a bit guilty at the pale and motionless teenager on the only occupied bed. Collins had yet to move after collapsing to the ground, and the werewolf couldn't help but wonder if they had gotten there earlier, he wouldn't have been slashed by the creature.
"Physically?" The witch responded. "Just fine. Better actually. That Dark spell of his actually healed his rib better than any potion or spell I know. Not that I ever admitted such a thing," the nurse added sardonically and Remus grinned.
"Don't worry. Your horrible betrayal to the Light is safe with me."
"Thanks, Remus," the mediwitch rolled her eyes. "However, mentally, he's stuck in some sort of dream world, where his thoughts keep changing too quickly for me to get a lock on his consciousness and bring him back. Merlin knows I wouldn't want to be trapped in my memories, let alone his."
Remus nodded, "Thanks, Poppy. Now it's time to go kill all my friends, though. 'Being a Parselmouth...what a horrible thing to have! Eek! Oh no!'" Lupin left while still mocking them in a muttered voice.
He quieted though, when he saw Holly standing outside the door with a stubborn look on her face.
"Two options," the girl declared. "You tell me what's going on, or I investigate myself, eavesdropping on everyone and tracking the recent uses of magic to wherever Collins was injured at. Your choice."
Remus sighed in despair. What next... 'No,' his mind cut off suddenly. 'Don't even tempt Fate. Time to go knock on wood.'
"Fine," he said out loud, "you might as well join the discussion. You have as much to contribute as anyone else, I suppose."
Holly grinned in success. "Oh good. Rose is coming, too." She shifted to the side so Remus could see the ten-year-old standing behind her sister and smiling sweetly.
--
"I take no responsibility for this!" Remus exclaimed as soon as he entered Dumbledore's office, pointing to the two trailing girls. "Not my fault!"
Lily glared at the two who had the sense to at least act ashamed. "And what," she asked in a stressed tone, "are you lot doing here?"
"I told Uncle Remus that he could tell me what was going on, or I'd find a more dangerous way to figure it out, Rose probably followed me all the way," Holly answered as if it were obvious, and Snape couldn't completely stifle a snicker.
"Fine!" Lily said throwing her hands up in the air before turning to James and poking his shoulder. "Tell your daughter to not threaten Remus anymore."
"My daughter?" James responded, poking her back. "What do you mean--she's half yours!"
Albus cleared his throat. "Perhaps Remus can give us an update now?"
Lily and James subsided, still poking at each other discretely.
"Apparently he's stuck in some type of coma caused by the hallucinogen. Poppy said something else, but I'm under oath not to mention it," the werewolf responded with a semi-straight face at the end, knowing full well that the Mediwitch would be hounded until she admitted what she said. "Which, from a purely tactical angle, isn't good since he's the only who knows where the Chamber is."
Albus nodded his head in agreement before a small chime announced an incoming Floo. Everyone in the office cast Disillusioning Charms on the person next to them, and Albus checked to make no one was visible before turning to the fireplace.
"Ah, hello, Under Secretary Fudge, how can I be of service?" The headmaster greeted in a tone that, while polite, would have made it obvious to a brick wall that he was in no mood for trivialities.
Unfortunately, Fudge was thicker than said brick wall. "The three who accompanied Minister Crouch today decided that, while your school is in fine standing, the Assistant Professor Collins requires a more in-depth interview by the Ministry, so I'm here to schedule an appointment. If he is not currently occupied, perhaps he could suggest a date and time?"
Albus paused momentarily, trying to come up with a story, before just deciding to use his power as Headmaster to act offended by the Ministry's desire to double-check his employees.
"I would suggest, Undersecretary," Dumbledore said in a slightly colder tone, "that you remind this group of Hogwart's independence from Ministry regulations, and that Mr. Collins has no need to meet with anyone for a second opinion on his ability to teach. Good evening."
Dumbledore snapped off the connection and turned back to the main part of his office. "Interfering bureaucrats," he muttered as everyone took off their charms.
"Anyway," Remus continued as if there hadn't been an interruption, "Madam Pomfrey doesn't know how to snap him out of it."
"Bucket of water," Sirius whispered to Peter, but Remus overheard anyway.
"Dare you," he said with a feral smile as Sirius paled, then grinned.
"Alright. Do you dare me to suggest it, or actually throw a bucket of water on him?"
"The latter," Remus, Peter and James said at the same time, and Lily looked at everyone else with a despairing glance.
"Why me?" She asked rhetorically. "What did I do to get stuck with them?"
Sirius looked at Dumbledore with a pleading expression with his eyes darting towards the fireplace.
Albus looked sternly at the Auror. "Fireplaces are not toys," he said severely, then relented. "But go ahead. If Poppy asks, I wasn't here, and had nothing to do with it."
Sirius rubbed his hands together in mischievous glee before silently disappearing into the green flames.
Dumbledore tapped an empty portrait with his wand that changed to show the interior of the Hospital Wing, which currently showed a motionless Collins and Sirius conjuring a bucket full of water. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight.
There was a pause as everyone held their breath and Sirius Levitated the bucket slowly in order to increase the drama.
"SIRIUS BLACK!"
The would-be bucket-thrower deflated in disappointment as Madam Pomfrey ran up to him, banishing the bucket as she did so. Then he realized the danger he was in (facing an irate witch who knew thousands of poisons and the most horrible cures possible) and ran for the fireplace, making it just in time.
"Dumbledore's office!" He gasped out, and as soon as the green flames spat him out at his destination, the Dog Animagus ran for cover on the opposite side of the room just in case Poppy decided to take pursuit.
"Didn't work?" Peter asked dryly, and Sirius glared before grinning. "No, just a...minor setback..."
"So," Professor McGonagall had arrived some time during the short meeting, "does anyone know where the Basilisk is?"
"Actually," Lily said, huddled around a map of Hogwarts with Holly looking discretely over her shoulder, "that corridor may be our best bet. There's no other place I could think of, except for the Slytherin common room. Though if there was a basilisk, I hesitate to ask why Slytherin would want it able to get into his House."
"You won't find much there," a high-pitched voice said from one corner of the office, and a ghost floated through the wall. "It wouldn't do you much good anyway, since only a Parselmouth can get in."
All the living people in the office looked at the ghost with varying expressions. Some, like Holly, Rose, and almost all of the professors had similar looks of annoyance and self-pity. The Marauders, on the other hand, shared looks of mischievous glee, while Dumbledore watched the spirit encouragingly.
"Good day, Myrtle," the Headmaster said genially. "What did you mean by that?"
"Well, even I could figure out that Salazar Slytherin would only let his chamber be accessed by a Parselmouth. If he didn't, every horrible Slytherin would try to get into it."
"And how would a Hufflepuff such as yourself know anything, seeing as how you at least have the courtesy to stay out of most of the castle?" Snape asked in a sneer usually reserved for all things Weasley-twinish, not appreciating the slight against his Slytherins.
Myrtle's eyes filled with tears, and Holly and Lily muttered a barely audible, "Oh, here we go..."
"I came here to try and help - sniff - and this is the thanks I get!" She bawled. "Why don't you just mention the fact that I'm dead and be done with it!"
"Myrtle?" Peter asked kindly, and the ghost turned to him, her tears calming. "Yes?"
"You're dead."
Myrtle burst into tears, and throwing a fist through Pettigrew's stomach, flew out of the room, weeping about people not accepting help from spirits.
"So...anyone want to go look at that hallway?"
Everyone turned to Holly incredulously, so she shrugged and scooted back out of the spot light.
The place was just as miserable as it had been the first time. The old portrait of the malicious queen looked dismissively at them once more.
"You're back again, are you?" She sniffed, looking at the five or so who had been chosen to investigate the place. "I can't imagine why. There's nothing to see, and you bring in you flashy lights and mudblood selves... I don't suppose any of you happen to be pureblood, aye?"
Looking around hesitantly, both Sirius and James stepped forward.
"Oh good, good," the witch cried happily, clapping her hands together. "Proper magical folk: a Potter and a Black. I'll give you the tour properly then, eh? Degradis!"
The portrait shrieked the name in such a piercing tone that Sirius clapped his hands over his ears and complained about flashbacks of listening to his mother screech.
A frazzled-looking butler with a fluffy white mustache appeared, looking at the group with large bloodshot eyes.
"Yes, you old hag?" He said respectfully, while scribbling on a large piece of parchment. The butler held it up and showed thick, black letters spelling 'HELP!'
"Yes, I want you to show these marvelous people around. Make sure not to miss anything," she added with a particularly evil grin, and by a general silent consensus everyone pulled out their wands. Just in case.
"Certainly, you ancient, arthritic banshee," he said bowing, and beckoned everyone forward, ignoring the surprised (and amused) looks as he stepped into an adjoining portrait.
"Well, don't just stand there," the witch said, once more all smiles, though there was a decidedly sadistic gleam in her eyes. "Move along, move along."
Nobody moved.
"Well, does anyone want to go first?" Remus asked, lifting his lighted wand higher and peering down the corridor full of rodent bones and scowling portraits with dead-looking eyes.
"Not me."
"Not a chance."
Remus looked at Peter and Moody, who hadn't spoken, and they both shook their heads.
"Not likely, laddie," Moody said. "If they got some plan ready for us, then I'm not going in first."
"It seems unlikely that there is any entrance down here," Peter said in a questioning tone, and everyone else nodded. "After all, ghosts know this place better than anyone else, right?"
The other four nodded once more and they all walked quickly in the opposite direction, not seeing the disgruntled butler pick up a steak knife and charge at the witch in the portrait.
--
"You want us to what!"
Dumbledore sighed as Minerva McGonagall looked severely at him, her lips in a thin line. Sitting next to her was Severus Snape, who looked none too happy with the situation either.
They were in the Hospital Wing as others investigated the passage near the Hufflepuff area, and another group researched Salazar Slytherin and Basilisks. Trying to find a way to cure Chris Collins, they were having no luck finding any charms or potions that would help.
"Once he's awake," Madam Pomfrey had said, "he'll be fine. All it'll take is a couple days and some potions. But someone else has to figure out how to wake him up. Preferably someone who has experience as a Mind Healer."
Dumbledore explained his idea one more. "You and Severus are both Legilimency-proficient, so it seems logical that you two would be able to enter his mind and bring him back out." He correctly interpreted Minerva's look and answered her unspoken question. "I would do it myself, my dear, but I only know enough Legilimency to get along."
Minerva rolled her eyes. "Of course you don't Albus, like you would overlook the opportunity to learn any Mind Magics. Besides," she continued with her previous argument, "Poppy said only someone with Mind Healer experience could help him. I'm not sure about Severus, but I certainly am no Mind Healer."
"Don't look at me," Severus commented in agreement. "I'm just the Death Eater."
Madam Pomfrey looked up from a pile of parchment on her desk. "I don't like playing havoc with my patients," she said, glaring at Dumbledore, "but the idea has merit. I believe that you two should at least try it. At the very least you could find out the location of that Chamber."
Minerva stared at her incredulously. "Whose side are you on, Poppy?"
The mediwitch sniffed angrily. "I'm on the side of not having a bunch of Petrified people in my Hospital, Minerva!"
Muttering about reckless plans and entering Gryffindor minds, Severus pulled out his wand and pointed at Collins, deciding not to waste anymore time arguing. Besides, any Potions Master would never turn down the opportunity for fresh Basilisk ingredients...
"Legilimens," he cast, and encountered a stone wall where he expected to find, at best, a flimsy shield. He pushed on the Occlumency shield and was forcefully thrown backwards, falling out of his chair and ungracefully onto the ground.
Snape opened his eyes to see Minerva and Poppy trying their hardest not laugh. "'Not good at Occlumency,'" Severus said in a mocking tone. "As soon as he wakes up, he definitely had better have a good story about this!"
Minerva shook her head at the irate Potions Professor. "And here I thought no one could fool you, Severus." She didn't leave a chance for him to sneer a reply. "Together on three?"
"Together on three," he agreed, standing and pointing his wand once more at Collins.
"One...two...three! Legilimens!" They said together, and the Hospital Wing disappeared from view, replaced by the stone wall that Snape had seen before.
"This is Professor Minerva McGonagall, Collins," McGonagall said in her sternest tone, yelling loudly at the wall. "You still stop this foolishness and bring down this Occlumency wall immediately! Do you understand me?"
Severus looked at Minerva in disbelief. "Do you honestly expect that to work?"
"No," she responded with a shake of her head, "but it's worth a try."
They watched the wall slowly shrink into itself as it responded to Minerva's demand, looking somehow like a misbehaving student. Then it seemed to shake itself and stand straight once more.
Minerva bristled and tapped her wand angrily against her hand. "Now, Collins, or so help me..."
The wall shrank back into itself until it disappeared completely with a barely audible huff of annoyance.
"I can't believe that actually worked," McGonagall said, stepping forward before the shield went up again.
"Well, what do you know... even unconscious minds are afraid of you, Minerva," Severus drawled, and stumbled slightly on the suddenly uneven ground.
Minerva bit back a laugh. "I believe that this unconscious mind doesn't appreciate being called afraid of anything."
Done needling each for the moment, they looked around at their surroundings, which, being accessed for another reason than just to look for memories, looked rather than different the average experience. To their far left was a replica of Hogwarts, with its lake, Quidditch Pitch, and Forbidden Forest, though it seemed skewed from the actual one. Minerva couldn't exactly place how it was different though. To the right was a door that was left ajar.
In general consensus both headed for the door.
Severus opened it and saw a mostly empty room that just contained a trunk. The two stepped closer, and, unwilling to approach it, Severus pointed his wand at it. "Alohomora."
The lid creaked open, and McGonagall peered in.
"What in the world..." she muttered, and knelt down to begin pushing through everything. "I honestly hope Collins isn't really this disorganized. Really!"
Severus began looking through the belongings helter-skelter in the trunk. "A homework planner?" He asked incredulously, holding up the offending agenda. "Oh, that's just sad..."
He opened it up and heard a voice squeak, "Finish your homework so your knowledge is not stunted, and then you can do whatever you wanted!" Cringing at the peppy message, he flipped to the inside of the cover and read, 'Happy Christmas, Chris! OWLs are coming up, so you'd better get studying! Hermione.'"
"No wonder Collins is insane. Granger got him a homework planner for Christmas," he commented, tossing it aside.
Minerva glared at him. "There's nothing wrong with being organized, especially for OWLs, Severus."
He ignored her comment and started rooting through the trunk again. "A cheap Sneakoscope--how did he get a hold of a Hippogriff feather?--a spare wand..."
Severus quickly dropped it as it turned into a rubber chicken and ran away squawking. "The Weasley twins," he growled, and Minerva nodded.
"They were always good at Transfiguration, even if they never applied themselves to the actual material. What else is in here? A couple Defense Against the Dark Arts texts, quills, broken ink pots, and a Potions essay. A 'T,' Severus? Honestly, you always tormented my Gryffindors..."
"Are you blaming me for the actions of my counterpart?" Severus asked indignantly before stopping his random search through the trunk. "This would be so much easier if we knew what we were looking for, or Collins had a map for his mind."
With a small pop a map appeared on the ground beside him. He picked it up and saw a large dot labeled, "You are here." The only path on the map was one that led back to where the wall was, with an unsubtle label saying, "Exit."
"Oh, great," Severus grumbled, throwing the map towards Minerva. "That was incredibly helpful."
Minerva was still studying the map, which, to Severus' annoyance, seemed to show her more. With an exclamation of triumph, she ran towards one of the walls and leaned up against it, a rough, wooden door appearing. She opened it without another thought, and a howling wind shot through the room, pulling both people through the door and into the blackness inside of it.
There was a hair-raising yowl to the left in the blackness, and a high squeak immediately after. They heard a dull rumble of a yelling voice some distance ahead, but neither could distinguish what was being said. A fireplace flew by, with a short-fingered hand trying to reach for something, as three teens ran away from it. It flew by before Minerva could identify them, only to be replaced with a snapshot of a giant chessboard.
They stumbled through the pulling darkness, and landed heavily on the ground.
Severus sat up and looked around, his wand pulled out in case of danger. They were in some sort of cave, like stark catacombs: several winding tunnels led away from their current positions.
He turned around and saw the person he and Minerva were sent to find.
"Collins?" He asked, and got a lazy nod in reply.
Collins was leaning against one of the cave walls, unconcernedly flipping through a book.
"Mr. Collins!" Minerva snapped, annoyed at his lack of reply.
"Yeah?" He asked, not even bothering to look up. "If you don't mind, I'm reading here..."
As if feeling the combined death glares of the two professors, the teen finally looked up, and, like the replica of Hogwarts they had both seen, he was different as well.
Dressed in a rather unkempt school uniform, he was wearing glasses and had a posture of complete unconcern. Rather than having dark green eyes, he had fuzzy gray ones.
"Collins?" McGonagall asked, a bit surprised at the differences in him.
"Yes, again, that's my name," he said blandly, putting his book aside and popping his fingers. "Now, what can I help you with?"
"You can help by actually returning to consciousness," Severus snapped, and to his annoyance Collins rolled his eyes.
"Can't help you there, I'm afraid. Especially since I'm not the one you're looking for." Ignoring the resulting confused expressions he got, he stood and floated to one of the tunnel entrances, rather than actually walking.
"What are you?" Minerva asked, seeing that that poison in the justern's claws had odder effects than they previously thought.
"A side of a personality, a kind of spirit, actually," Collins responded lazily, still waiting by the tunnel. "So are you coming or not? I have better things to be doing..."
Minerva and Severus looked at each other, both sharing the thought that the spirit probably didn't have better things to be doing, but followed it anyway.
"Lumos," Minerva muttered as the darkness of the cave thickened, and her light showed multiple sub-entrances to other tunnels. She looked at them curiously, her light not able to reach very far into them. "What are down there?"
"Memories," the spirit responded. "None that you're supposed to go down, however."
After receiving that crisp and short answer, Minerva mutely followed the spirit, ignoring Severus's smirk at her curiosity.
They had passed about fifteen more tunnels when the lazy spirit stopped. "Go down there, please," it said pointing, and the two looked at the musty entrance doubtfully.
"I thought we weren't supposed to go down these," Severus said snidely, mocking the spirit's earlier words.
"You're supposed to go down that one," it replied, yawning and leaning up against another wall. "If you're searching for something, I suggest you go forward."
"What if we decide to stop looking and go back?" Minerva asked, just in case.
"Then you'll just have to change your decision, and keep looking anyway, since you can't go back," the spirit answered without concern. It began to float away as Minerva and Severus glared after it. "If you ever do come back, at least have the courtesy to find your own way. People thinking I have nothing better to do than lead them around..."
Minerva looked at Severus questioningly. "I don't know about you, but I haven't seen Collins act like that. It can't possibly be part of his personality."
Severus thought about her question before answering without sarcasm. "It's just a small part of it, probably, and enhanced to the extreme to fill the whole personality of a person. There's probably quite a few of those spirits running around here." He ignored Minerva's grin and comment of a completely snarky Collins beating him in a sarcasm contest. Like anyone could ever beat his wit. "We should probably do as the spirit advised and go through the memory. You never know if it might be useful."
"If you say so," Minerva said uncertainly, and they both stepped into the tunnel.
/--\ /--\ /--\ /--\
They appeared in Dumbledore's office, though no one was present except for the portraits pretending to sleep, not even Fawkes.
Then there was a flash of an incoming Portkey, and Chris appeared, looking about a year younger than the one they knew.
His school uniform was torn a couple places and he looked like he had been in a battle, with a couple scratches on his face and scuffed-looking glasses on his face. His expression was a mixture of anger and grief, though he looked mostly in shock, making Minerva think perhaps he was just in a battle, probably the first he had ever been in.
The Portkey fell to the floor, a golden head that looked suspiciously like the one on the statue in the Ministry plaza, and Collin's face twisted as he looked out the window as dawn crept forward.
All three of the people in the office jumped as the oily voice of Phineas Nigellus suddenly spoke.
"Ah...Chris Collins...And what brings you here in the early hours of the morning?" The portrait asked, yawning and stretching. "This office is supposed to be barred to all but the rightful headmaster."
A brief look of savage victory crossed the portrait's face, shared by the other listening paintings.
"Or has Dumbledore sent you here? Oh, don't tell me...another message for my worthless great-great-grandson?"
Collin paled at the question, and didn't answer. Minerva quickly thought through her long-ago project over magical family trees. Nigellus's great-great-grandson...that was Sirius Black.
She shared a glance with Severus, and knew he had reached the same conclusion.
They both stopped going over wizarding family history as Collins suddenly bolted towards the office door, the look of grief taking over most of his face. He grabbed the doorknob, but it wouldn't open. A flash of anger crossed the young wizard's face, and he yanked savagely on the doorknob once more.
Minerva glared in remembrance of this trick of Albus's, locking his office door until whoever he had just angered calmed down and was able to speak and think rationally. The Headmaster had once done that to her, and her reaction hadn't been pleasant. Luckily the door had been resistant to a great number of flaming charms.
Another portrait spoke up as Collins continued to try to force the door open. "I hope this means that Dumbledore will soon be back with us?"
'Back with us?' Minerva thought with raised eyebrows. 'Why had Dumbledore ever left?'
But Chris nodded mutely, obviously not in the mood for conversation.
But the portrait didn't seem to get the hint, settling itself in a grandiose chair and warming up for conversation. "Dumbledore thinks very highly of you," the red-nosed wizard continued, not noticing Collins's hands clench tightly on the doorknob, though not to try and open it. "Oh yes. Holds you in great esteem."
The teen shrank against the door as if trying to sink through the wood itself, an expression of desperation crossing his face. 'Do I know that feeling!' Minerva thought bitterly, but paid attention once more as a fireplace burst into green flames and Dumbledore stepped in.
The portraits clapped joyfully at his appearance, and Minerva wondered once more why Dumbledore had been gone long enough to make stuffy portraits clap at his return.
"Thank you," the old wizard said softly, who, in contrast, didn't look like he had been in a battle at all. He plucked a baby Fawkes out of his pocket and placed the phoenix beneath his perch and onto the pile of ashes there.
"Well, Chris," Dumbledore said lightly, in the tone that nearly drove all the staff to grind their teeth together at his impeccable calm. "You'll be pleased to hear that none of your fellow students are going to suffer lasting damage from the night's events."
Collins looked down guiltily, and Minerva glared at the Headmaster. "He's actually blaming a fifteen-year-old for a battle?" She asked Severus in an angry tone, obviously planning to yell at Albus for his counterpart's actions.
"Wait, Minerva," Severus said sharply. "Just listen."
She huffed in response but calmed down and listened.
"Madam Pomfrey is patching everyone up now," the headmaster continued without pause, seemingly not noticing the increasingly guilty look in Collins's eyes. "Nymphadora Tonks may need to spend a little time in St. Mungo's, but it seems she will make a full recovery."
Collins nodded at the carpet, and Minerva saw Albus look at him sympathetically. "I know how you're feeling, Chris," he said.
"No, you don't." Minerva jumped at the concrete answer. She had expected a whisper or a mutter at best. Collins's eyes blazed angrily now, rather than be filled with self-loathing.
"You see, Dumbledore?" Nigellus spoke up suddenly, and Severus rolled his eyes at the portrait's comment. "Never try to understand the students. They hate it. They would much rather be tragically misunderstood, wallow in self-pity, stew in their own--"
"That's enough, Phineas," Dumbledore cut across, and the portrait subsided.
Collins had turned to look out the window during this short exchange, staring at the Quidditch Pitch with a lost expression.
"There is no shame in what you're feeling," Dumbledore tried again. "On the contrary...the fact that you can feel pain like this is your greatest strength."
Severus raised an eyebrow at that. "This won't end well," he muttered to Minerva. "He should know better than to try this philosophy discussion with an obviously angry student. He'll never learn..."
Minerva frowned in agreement, and watched as Collins began to tremble slightly in anger. His glare was powerful enough to melt the faraway Pitch. "My greatest strength is it?" He repeated mockingly. "You haven't got a clue... You don't know..."
"What don't I know?" And Minerva winced as Collins obviously took that tone of voice as patronizing, something she had often done as well.
He spun around in anger, eyes snapping. "I don't want to talk about how I feel, all right?"
"Chris, suffering like this proves that you are still a man! This pain is part of being human--"
"Then I don't want to be human!" Chris yelled angrily, grabbing a nearby silver instrument and throwing it against a wall, where it broke apart irreparably. The portraits objected angrily, but Minerva whooped in triumph. Albus had always protected his delicate instruments whenever Minerva was in his office, because of the few times she objected rather strongly to his decisions, and she had never succeeded in breaking one yet. Apparently, this Dumbledore hadn't had time to cast protective spells on his office, or had underestimated Collins's temper.
"You do care," Dumbledore continued, and Minerva paid attention the memory once more. "You care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it."
'I--DON'T!" Collins yelled back, his voice cracking in agony, and as he faced the old wizard Minerva saw a murderous gleam in his eye.
"Albus had better run," She muttered, and she saw Severus nod in agreement.
"Oh yes, you do," Albus argued back, having not been able to hear Minerva's advice. "You have now lost your mother, your father, and the closest thing to a parent you have ever known. Of course you care."
"You don't know how I feel!" Collins yelled back in defiance once more. "You--standing there-- you--"
The two watched as the angry fire died from his eyes and he ran towards the door once more. The doorknob still refused to budge.
"That won't work," Minerva muttered as Collins's hand clenched around his wand as if preparing to blast through the door. But the teen spun around and glared at Dumbledore straight in the eyes.
"Let me out," he demanded coldly.
"No."
Minerva stared at the Headmaster in the memory. Surely Albus wouldn't be so cruel... not letting someone go to grieve, to catch on to the realization that they lost someone as close as Albus had said...
"Let me out," Collins said again, slightly less calmly than before.
"No."
"If you don't--if you keep me in here--if you don't let me--" The implied threat of imminent destruction was clear in his raging voice, but Dumbledore paid no heed.
"By all means continue destroying my possessions. I daresay I have too many," Dumbledore said in a serene tone, and Collins growled quietly in response.
"Let me out!"
"Not until I've had my say," Albus said, taking a seat calmly behind his desk, though Minerva was inclined to think that the old wizard finally got some common sense and saw the wisdom in putting the wooden desk between himself and Collins.
"He's not going to listen to a word out of your mouth, you senile old wizard!" McGonagall yelled in sympathetic anger, just as Collins yelled, "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'VE GOT TO SAY! I don't want to hear anything you've got to say!"
"You will," Dumbledore replied, as Severus glared at Minerva to be quiet. "Because you're not nearly as angry with me as you ought to be. If you are to attack me, as I know you are close to doing…" "That's right he is," Minerva growled, ignoring Severus sigh of self-pity of having to associate with Gryffindors. "...I would like to have thoroughly earned it."
"What are you talking--?" Collins asked in angry contempt.
"It is my fault he died," Dumbledore said clearly.
And the two were yanked out of the memory as Dumbledore continued talking.
/--\ /--\ /--\ /--\
Minerva closed her eyes until her sense of balance was restored.
"What was that!" She yelled in anger, obviously incensed at the memory. "He--"
"That was a rather ungraceful landing," a laughing voice said above her.
She looked up to see Chris Collins on a broomstick, looking down at her and Severus in amusement.
"Wonderful," Severus said snidely as he stood and stiffly brushed off his robes, "yet another personality of Collins. Are you sure you not the same person, just with Multiple Personality Disorder?"
Collins laughed clearly, and looked at them with cheerful yellow eyes. "Same snarky git as always, Snape?" he asked, swooping to a landing upside-down. "That's to be expected, I suppose."
Minerva looked around and saw that they were still in the cavern-like tunnels. "Are you supposed to lead us somewhere?" She asked Collins. "I thought we would be out of these tunnels by now."
"You're probably going to be in them for a while," Collins said. "But why are you here in the first place? Are you looking for a specific memory, or just exploring my mind?"
"We're looking for a specific memory, and trying to find a way to wake you up," Severus answered, searching the immediate area for differences in the tunnels. "You wouldn't happen to know the quickest way to do that, would you?"
"Not a clue!"
"Of course, not, lousy Gryffindor," he muttered. "You better lead us to wherever we're supposed to go next, then."
Collins laughed again, but obediently swooped off down a tunnel to the left. "Am I supposed to know where you go next?"
"You have a better idea than we would," Minerva replied, cutting off Severus's remark.
"I might as well show you something fun, then," Chris decided with a shrug, and, leaping gracefully off his broom, beckoned the two to follow him.
"What memory are you looking for?" The yellow-eyed spirit asked. "I hardly think you're looking for memories of me bothering Lockhart, but there's a couple good strategy memories scattered around here."
"We're looking for the Chamber of Secrets memory," Minerva answered, thinking that this was not so much 'mind-reading' as it was searching through a catalogue.
Collins paused, his eyes focusing on something neither Minerva nor Severus could see, before frowning slightly.
"I can't take you there, strangely enough. I can only show a couple years worth of memories, and that's not one of them. So," he continued, resuming his fast walk, "how'd you two get in here anyway?"
"Legilimency," Severus said shortly, annoyed that the simple task of viewing a memory had turned into this.
"Well, that's not good. I suppose you've figured out that I'm rather good at Occlumency then?" He received a glare in answer. "Darn."
And he snapped his fingers, a large cavernous hole appearing under the two professors. They looked at him with startled eyes before they began to fall through the air, soon disappearing into the darkness.
"Good luck!" The yellow-eyed spirit called before leaping onto his broomstick once more and flying happily away.
He paced back and forth in anxiety. Something was missing, but he couldn't quite figure out exactly what. Like he was in a black and white world with only the faintest nagging memory of color.
What could it possibly be?
He looked at the pictures all around him, trying to figure out some small clue. He was fairly certain that he was the one with black hair and green eyes, but wasn't really sure. The wizard in those pictures, while maybe not at peace, had confidence, some sort of identity...
Identity?
The crux of the problem slipped away again. Identity... he didn't think he had ever had one. Was that what was missing? He wasn't sure.
"I am someone," he tried experimentally. The words felt right, but if only he knew who he was. "I am...Chris?"
He said the name, but it didn't fell quite right. He shrugged. The name worked for now even if he felt like something else would work better.
His second challenge was to find a way out of this trunk.
Even though he couldn't think up a memory for sure, the pictures reassured him he hadn't been here forever. So there had to be a way out.
Responding to some deeply entrenched instinct, he began pacing again, though this time parallel to a wall. The third time he passed by the blank stretch, a door appeared.
Sighing with relief, and hoping this doorway would lead to something other than just a way out ('Maybe some answers,' his mind supplied sardonically), he yanked open the door and ran through, only pausing to grab some pictures that he felt were important.
The picture of him, a blonde girl, a gangly redhead, and a bushy-haired girl carrying a large encyclopedia.
The picture of an auburn-haired, green-eyed woman carrying a baby and laughed at the antics of two black-haired and two sandy-haired wizards.
The picture of a decrepit mansion, with an ominous-looking graveyard in the foreground, milling with black-robed people.
Maybe he would meet someone who could tell him what they were.
Severus whipped out his wand and cast a cushioning charm on the ground far below them. He knew from prior experience that you couldn't cast spells on yourself while in memories, but everything else was fair game.
The two landed without harm, albeit ungracefully. Standing quickly, they looked around, Severus in impatience and irritation, Minerva in quite a bit of interest.
They were in a hallway of Hogwarts, somewhere down the Charms corridor, but far from any staircases.
"Run!" They heard shouted from far away, and turned in time to see a blonde girl of about fifteen walking sedately down the corridor, giggling all the way and clutching a green-and-silver scarf.
"Lovegood!" Severus sneered, and glared at the witch even though she had no way of seeing him. "What is she doing with a Slytherin scarf?"
His question was never answered, because they saw a slightly younger-looking Collins round the corner, sliding into the wall so he wouldn't hit Lovegood. "Luna! That's not running!"
"What, and miss the show?" She quipped, but they both ran as a full tribe of irritated Slytherin upperclassmen rounded the corner, exclaiming angrily at the sight of the two.
Chris and Luna ran a bit farther down the corridor, but paused to watch the Slytherins huff and puff after running such a distance.
"Give me--back my--scarf!" A pug-faced girl the two professors recognized as Pansy Parkinson panted.
"Why?" Luna asked with obvious curiosity.
"What do you mean why, you loony half-blood?!" Pansy screeched back evidently getting back her breath. She yanked out her wand out and fired a curse, but it encountered a thick opaque wall.
"Now, now, no need for language, Parkinson," Chris said with a grin, but the forming bruise under his eyes said that this was more than just an elaborate prank. "Aren't you Slytherins supposed to be cunning or something?"
Pansy smirked. "We are. I was just the distraction."
Luna and Chris shared a worried glance as they heard the sounds of a large Slytherin herd coming up the corridor behind them. Parkinson put on a simpering self-satisfied smile as they turned back around, but her smile turned into a look of confusion as they showed no sign of worry.
"You don't really think we'd fall for so blunt a trap, do you?" Chris drawled annoyingly, and Luna smiled sincerely.
"The Frawgs warned us about incoming traps, so we enlisted the help of the Gubenschnipers," she commented in a spacey tone, and Parkinson tried to hide her look of disbelief.
"That means we illusioned ourselves, Parkinson," Collins said, speaking slowly as if to a four-year-old. "We're not really here."
The two disappeared, leaving Parkinson screaming in frustration as seven burly Slytherins burst into the corridor, ready for a fight that wasn't going to happen.
Severus and Minerva were whisked away to a different corridor, though this time it was the real two Hogwarts students, not simply illusions.
Luna giggled as she wrapped a green scarf around her neck and shrugged on a silvery jacket. Her actions were mirrored by Collins as he pulled a ridiculous looking hat out of his pocket. "I can't believe Nott really wears this," Chris said in a gleeful tone as he gently pulled it onto Luna's head before putting on a silver jacket himself. "Now we really are Slytherins, m'dear," he said to Luna, who pulled a ridiculously horrified look.
"Oh no! Not that! We'll have to start a bonfire with the Sorting Hat if it refuses to Sort us again!"
"What is this talk about arson?" An amused voice said from in front of them, and a figure stepped out of the shadow.
"Of course we weren't talking about arson, sir," Collins said, a grin that belied that statement on his face. "Never. Us causing trouble? Not even a possibility!"
Dumbledore laughed, and Minerva bit back a comment about how Albus seemed to be a schizophrenic, based on the last memory.
"Mr. Collins, Miss Lovegood, sometimes I worry about you two. Miss Granger took up knitting, Mr. and Miss Weasley took up chess, Mr. Longbottom took up seizing corners of the Gryffindor common room as a greenhouse. Those are all perfectly normal hobbies. But here are you two, stealing Slytherin scarves and jackets!"
"All for a good cause professor!" Collins said in defense, but Severus muttered disparaging comments just the same.
"Sure, sure," Dumbledore waved his hand airily and began walking on as Chris and Luna continued their run back to some safe house in the castle. "Mr. Collins?" He called back sternly.
"Yes?" He responded in a far too innocent voice.
"You are not allowed to burn neither Professor Snape nor Mr. Malfoy in effigy tomorrow at breakfast!"
"Yes, sir," the voice grudgingly replied, before muttering, "All bets are off at lunch!"
/--\ /--\ /--\ /--\
"That was certainly more pleasant than the last one," Minerva said as they tumbled into the caves once more.
"Pleasant!" Severus growled. "Dumbledore just let them get away with burglarizing Slytherins and plotting arson!"
Minerva rolled her eyes. "Get a grip," she commanded of Severus, only to get a rather rude gesture in response. "really Severus, you're not sixteen. I expected something a little more sophisticated from you."
"As much fun as it is to squabble with someone who has such obviously deplorable wit, might I suggest that we actually do what we came here to do?"
"Oh, and what is that?" Minerva asked. "Wander around in various memories until we find what, exactly? What are the odds that the next spirit thing to show up is actually helpful?"
"Not very high," a hoarse voice said softly, and Minerva jumped in shock. Severus, who had seen something floating down the tunnel beforehand, had an amused smirk on his face, had Minerva bothered to check and see.
The Collins in front of them was different than the other two spirits that had guided them before. While annoying, the two had displayed such obviously teenage emotions that they had somewhat forgotten the other sides of the person they had come to save.
With completely black eyes and a shadowy grim look on his face, this Chris Collins was definitely one you would not want to go up against in a battle. He was wearing a completely Muggle fighting suit, which neither could identify, and was carrying a large assortment of deadly-looking weapons. Besides that, his hands and face were covered in blood, and the spirit was flying at a funny angle that couldn't be called anything else other than a limp.
He quirked an eyebrow at their expressions but made no comment. "Despite that, I know what you're looking for," he said in the same scratchy voice. "So come on, and don't stray to far behind. Things are about to get a little wild."
Severus rolled his eyes. "It's you're mind. Surely you can control it?"
"I would, if it were just mine." The two digested that comment in silence, but a faraway scream interrupted them. Collins smiled bitterly. "Besides, since when can you control your mind in nightmares?"
He walked forward without checking to see if they would follow, but pulled out his wand and a wickedly sharp knife that would make Voldemort himself hesitate.
Severus and Minerva walked cautiously after him, not being able to stop their peering around wildly at every scream or unnerving crash.
"What is that?" Minerva whispered to Collins, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.
"Voldemort's many victims," came the reply, and her suspicions about not wanting to know were proven correct. "It's amazing what you can overhear when you can't sleep for all the screams."
Minerva chanced a look at Severus, who was slightly green himself. He hated any references towards what Death Eaters did and what he had to participate in to keep his cover. That one comment in the Hospital Wing was rare.
"Why are you bothering?" Collins hoarse voice broke into her thoughts. "What brings you this far into my psyche to reach this place? Not many do."
"We're supposed to bring you back to the land of the living," Severus said crisply, and Collins nodded sharply.
"Though I did always favor the Land of the Lost," he said, and Snape winced at the Muggle reference. He absolutely hated the rubbish Muggles came up with to entertain themselves. He almost missed the flying shadow that slammed into Collins, only to get stabbed and thrown to the side.
They walked in silence for a bit more until Collins paused near a source of banging.
"This is where I leave you," he said solemnly, looking at the two like he'd never see anyone again. He didn't even wince as the banging escalated. "Good luck."
Minerva barely had time to nod in return before Collins turned and walked away into the darkness.
She turned to see Severus pointing his wand at a door that just appeared and the apparent source of the banging.
"Why," the Potions Master asked with clenched teeth, "did Collins decide to leave us here?"
"Because he's annoying." Minerva answered at once, and got a rare grin in response.
"That he is," Severus responded, and the door burst open.