4. Wizards and Wishes.
By arrangement, they gathered that night in the Great Hall. The ceiling had been darkened by then, and the many other fires damped. There was only the light and warmth of the one main fireplace, which was normally left burning all night while the house-elves cleaned the hall.
It was a chilly, damp evening. Dumbledore, warming his hands by the fire, teased the three young Gryffindors when they arrived. "Wandering my halls at night again, I see?"
Hermione answered, in mock shock. "Why, Professor! We'd never. That would be a violation of school rules!"
"Unless we were going to chapel, of course!" Ron chimed in.
That stopped Dumbledore in his tracks. He looked down at Ron.
"Going to chapel! How odd you should say that! I've heard that phrase more than once over the years. And, though the nearest chapel is in Hogsmeade, I've let a few perpetrators slip by with that excuse.
"In fact, I believe most, if not all, shared the name Weasley."
Ron cringed. "Uh...yes, sir, that might be. But I would never use that line, myself, sir. Must have been Percy."
"Oh, no," said Dumbledore, "not Percy. Let me think. It was... William..... and Charles...... and Fred and George. It's almost as if it were handed down... as a line that old Albus Dumbledore would buy in a pinch. And where did you hear it, may I ask?"
Ron danced around in the deep hole he was digging for himself. "Ummm... y'know who it might have been? My little sister, Ginny. She's coming next year."
"Ah... so I should watch out for her, then?"
"Good idea, sir," said Ron. "She has shifty eyes. Never know what she's thinking. A little con artist, she is. Gets everything she wants. My mother favours her over the boys, y'know. "
Dumbledore chuckled. "Thank you for that tip, Mr. Weasley."
Ron's little predicament was interrupted when the hall door opened.
"Good evening," said the new arrival, a tall, dark-haired boy. As he approached the light, they could see his robe bore the emblem of Hufflepuff, and rivaled Ron's hand-me-down in tatters. He appeared a bit nervous.
"Ah, we can begin!" said Dumbledore. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter! May I introduce Raymond Clovis, a Sixth Year."
"Oh, nice to meet you," said Harry, shaking hands.
"Harry Potter, I presume!" said Clovis. "I've only seen you from a distance. Call me Ray, please. After talking to Professor Dumbledore today, I gather I've been causing some mental mayhem, and I owe you lot an apology."
"No apology's necessary, Ray," said Harry; "we're all right, thanks."
"Glad to hear that," said Clovis. "Although, perhaps you should hear what I've been up to. It's been inadvertent -- sorry about it, nonetheless."
Dumbledore intervened. "I must agree with Harry, Mr. Clovis; no apologies are needed. Still, the explanation will help us all sleep tonight. You've brought the book again, have you?"
"Yes, Professor," answered Clovis, calming down, and handed him a thin black volume.
It looked to be an ordinary old Muggle-made shop-bought spiral-bound notebook, somewhat the worse for wear. Dumbledore looked it over, then proceeded to explain.
"Now, to Raymond's part in this.
"Raymond has no family, and almost no money for school. He has spent his summers here -- a tremendous help to the teachers in preparing for next term, and thus earning his way.
"Flourish & Blotts occasionally finds half-used notepads buried in the stacks of used books they receive. Raymond, like others, can buy them for a few knuts, for his personal notes.
In the process, he bought this, which is indeed the remnant of Ziehr's wish-for -- a most unfortunate one-off for Raymond. No one could have imagined it was still around after so many years!"
Harry reached for the book, and Dumbledore let him page through it while he finished.
"Raymond mostly wrote about the things that had meaning for him -- helping Hagrid and the teachers, passing exams, getting letters from classmates over the Summer, good times with good friends. If Raymond had written only about himself, we might never have noticed. However, he recorded a few happenings at Hogwarts, as he heard them... including a recent night tour of the third floor, taken by some stalwart First Years."
The culprits blushed. Just a bit.
"We have seen what confusion was caused by that entry, have we not?"
Harry looked up from the book and smiled. "And the other entry, Professor. It's here, too. This clears up a lot for me," he said, reading it aloud, while Hermione and Ron peeked at the page.
"Wednesday, July 30 - Saw Hagrid today, who asked if I would feed Fang while he is away fetching Harry Potter, who is coming of age for Hogwarts. It seems Potter's muggle keepers have denied him the school's repeated owl posts. Hagrid says he's got them now, tho; they have left their home in Surrey, and taken to an old fishermen's hut on a rocky island off Cornwall, where they can't hardly run nor hide. Hagrid will see to it that young Potter has a proper induction tonight."
"Well, there you are," said Harry. "All correct, except the wish-for simply mentioned the house we left, and the island where Hagrid found me. Apparently we spent a night at a hotel. If Hagrid knew about that, he never mentioned it to Ray. So, thanks to the wish-for, by that evening I had forgotten the hotel stay, as if it never happened."
"So, that's it!" said Hermione. "It works imperfectly... so, you lost a day without noticing, but it didn't affect your relatives. And it made the letters vanish, but it didn't restore the sandwich, which you must have eaten at the hotel!"
"So, I'm sane after all," replied Harry.
"If you say so, Harry," zinged Ron.
After jabbing an elbow toward Ron's midsection, Harry asked Dumbledore, "Professor, should I look for the entries on the night we went through the trap door?"
"There is no need, Harry," smiled Dumbledore. "I saw them this afternoon, and they can't help us. Raymond wrote down the jumble of conflicting reports that circulated the school for days. Those that were just rumour have been added to our memories by the wish-for, here and there, higgledy piggledy. Thus, all the confusion.
"I took the chance, Raymond, that you would draw your imagined object in the wish-for. Fortunately, you did; I see you even wrote a note about what it was. The wish-for diligently carried out your wish. The wood block shape-changed to suit.
"Harry provided the one clue that would have led to you inexorably -- the fact that he had a memory slip in July, before coming to Hogwarts. By your contact with Hagrid, you were the only student privy to Harry's movements that day.
"It is most fortunate, Mr. Clovis, that you did not speculate on anyone's injuries in the incident with Voldemort. Otherwise, they might still be in the Infirmary."
Clovis breathed a sigh of relief on that, but something still worried him. "Professor -- one concern. I've been doing well this year; but now, I wonder if my success was actually an illusion of the wish-for."
"Raymond, rest easy; since no one disagrees with your success, I would assume it is real. Your progress has always been exceptional."
If medieval hair shirts were still in style, Clovis would have been wearing one. "Still, Professor, I feel like the Sorcerer's Apprentice. I didn't intend it, but I carelessly used a charmed object. And I picked the worst time to do so. Now I've scrambled the record of an historic event, to the point where no one will ever know for sure exactly what happened. I am so incredibly sorry."
"Relax, Mr. Clovis," Dumbledore replied. "If there was a sorcerer's apprentice, it was Ziehr. As to your entries, we can undo what you have written.
"Tomorrow, all will be as it really was; there will be only one version of Voldemort's defeat, for the four of us will simply tell what we saw, and no doubt we will all agree. Perhaps, as Harry says, he did not bring his flute that night; on the other hand, it is just as likely that tomorrow it may reappear on the third floor!
"Raymond, your past is secure. Tomorrow, you will surely find that you have altered nothing, and harmed no one. I take it that you made notes in another book today, as we discussed, so your sixth-year diary is not lost.
"I must ask you three to do Raymond a favour and not mention this matter to others. I will thank the students for their participation in my experiment, and leave it at that.
"If any good has come from it, Mr. Clovis, you and the wish-for have carved me a fine balsa star! If it should resume its old shape tonight, I will only recarve it as you designed it. In either case, I will gild it, so it may decorate my tree at Christmas. A fine memento, eh?
"Now, to undo... and to see to it that the wish-for does not return. Mr. Potter, will you do the honors?"
Harry and the others knew that a mere finite incantatem wouldn't do for this charmed Muggle artifact, as hazardous as Dumbledore thought it was. They took a last glance at the innocent-looking spiral-bound pad in Harry's hands. Then, he consigned Ziehr's wish-for to the roaring fire.
Together, the five magicians stood watch as the hearth's red-orange glow was overwhelmed with tall, green flames. From somewhere, Dumbledore brought out a velvet sachet, untied it, and poured out a bit of powder which he added to the blaze. There was a flare-up in blue, and even the spiral wire of the binding was consumed.
"We never grow old and wise," he told them. "Even now, I am a child, seeking answers. If I had four lifetimes, I could still not learn the power of all the magic I've seen, and how to work it, and how to control it. In that sense, even I am the Sorcerer's Apprentice.
"Having magic in a world of non-magic folk is like being tall in a world of the short. It makes us seem so unique, but yet we are only human. We have a gift, but we are not gods.....or demons. All our talents, including those we consider to be wizardry, are human, and we utilise them in very human ways.
"Some of your talents will be extraordinary, and some minor, and some... will surprise you. We do not teach you new talents; you are born with them, or you are not. We can only help you discover and develop them, so that you can put these God-given talents to beneficial use.
"The rule is simple. Use your talents wisely, and use your most powerful talents most wisely of all -- for that is how all men will judge you."