ELISABETH RAYWOOD thought that surely, there had never been a more intimidating door than the one to the Hogwarts Headmaster's office. True, this oak panel she now stood in front of was much the same as any other door that was a part of the professors' respective offices, yet this one seemed…taller, somehow. Prouder. Nobler even. Different from the other doors yet identical. She stared at it, numb. She held the crumpled urgent letter she had received from the Headmaster herself in her shaking hand.

She thought it a miracle she had not dropped the piece of parchment paper already.

Headmaster Dumbledore had bid her come immediately, as one of his professors, Quirinus Quirrell, and her former friend, was in critical condition at St. Mungo's undergoing treatment for various burn wounds on his face. In a state of semi-consciousness, her old friend had whispered her name faintly, and it was the only indication Albus needed to send an urgent owl to her home in Doveport.

If she was to believe the words that had jumped out at her from the parchment that Albus had penned, rendering her blood to ice in her veins and her heart almost stopped beating as her eyes had made a quick scan of the letter, her former old friend had been possessed by the Dark Lord himself for a year.

She had not seen the man since last year, when he had departed for Albania in the hopes of making a name for himself in the academic community, to earn the respect Quirinus thought that he deserved.

They had rowed about it, so loudly that she was sure that their whole neighborhood had heard their fight, and she had Disapparated in a huff as Quirinus had stubbornly refused to see reason at all, claiming that she could not watch him destroy himself as he was now. She swallowed down hard past a lump in her throat, and when she did, it felt like she was swallowing knives and her ears were burning.

A wave of guilt washed over her as her dark eyes clouded in despair and incense. If only she would have stayed, perhaps even gone with the wizard, perhaps she could have prevented this from happening.

She could have convinced Quirinus to return home with her. If she had, her former friend would not be currently in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's clinging to what little shred of life the wizard had left.

There was no telling if Quirinus survived what the man would be like once he was discharged.

If his body would fully recover from his wounds, or if they were dark wounds, cursed ones that would always bear their marks of shame. Elisabeth raised her knuckles to knock and brought her fist down on the door. A hard, fast, urgent knocking with her knuckles.

She was on her second round of heavy wraps on the door when it swung wide open of its own accord. She took a step back and exhaled a shaking breath to steel her nerves before daring to set foot over the threshold of the doorway that separated Professor Albus Dumbledore's office from the corridor. She entered and kept her head held high, though she could not stifle the gasp at the numerous amounts of books and old scrolls that lined the warlock's office with almost a pristine sense of military precision.

Albus Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, pouring over a paper in his hands, his blue eyes somber behind the lenses of his half-moon spectacles. The old wizard sensed Elisabeth's presence before he lifted his gaze and met the redheaded young witch's gaze.

"Miss Raywood. Good. You are here."

"Yes, sir." She allowed the faint ghost of a smile to tug the edges of her mouth upwards as he looked up. Professor Dumbledore motioned for her to occupy the single chair in front of his desk.

Elisabeth could only comply. The Hogwarts Headmaster waited to speak until the witch had gotten herself situated, setting her purse at her feet and adjusting the skirts of her long dress, resting her hands uneasily in her lap as she nervously spoke to him. She could not stand the silence.

"Quirinus, Professor Dumbledore, sir, is there news?" she questioned, doing her best not to sound demanding or hurt. The lump in her throat hurt and her chest was almost painfully tight and hurt her.

"Stable for the moment," he announced, his lips pursed into a thin line and the warlock's expression was as grim as a grave as he addressed the young redhead without any semblance of emotion. "He is fortunate to be alive, Miss Raywood. I am…grateful that you have come. It was my hope that you would perhaps agree to be Quirinus's personal support person while he heals. He will be...much changed."

"I-I don't understand, sir." The furrow of confusion between her thinly plucked brows only deepened as she stared at Albus Dumbledore, unsure how this noted scholar in front of her could have such a plain means of speaking that still managed to render her feeling rather unhinged. "Changed, how? Physically? Will there be scarring, Albus? What do you mean by your words, sir?" She dreaded asking such questions, and was not sure she was prepared for the answer, but she knew she had to know the truth.

Albus Dumbledore's expression remained thoughtful for a moment as he considered his words and took advantage of the opportunity of the heavy silence that existed between them to study the young witch.

From what he had understood, the two had been neighborhood friends once, several years ago, in their late teens and well into their early twenties, and now, at the age of twenty-six, the girl was a beauty.

Then, after an interminable silence that lasted entirely too long past the point of comfort, he rested his chin in his hands as he looked at her.

"Yes, Miss Raywood. It pains me to say it, but I am afraid so. They are not so pretty. His wounds will scar, there can be no question. They are cursed wounds, though Dittany should lessen the scarring of the damaged tissue, in time, though I fear that it will not be a permanent fixture. And I thought it best that I am the one to inform you that the lead Healer assigned to care for him has recommended that Quirinus's memory be Obliviated to spare him the pain of reliving the past trauma of what he underwent this last year. I agree with the Healer's belief and have assented to the nature of his request. His memory has been Obliviated at the medical advice of St. Mungo's."

Elisabeth stared in abject shock and disbelief as her eyebrows receded onto her forehead.

She sat back against the backrest of her chair and felt a horrible tingling numbness seep through her chest, and she felt her heart suddenly climb up to her throat.

She opened her mouth to speak, though nothing immediately came out. After a few strangled attempts at speech, she summoned enough strength in her throat to answer Albus in a hoarse and quiet voice.

"He…we…how much of his memory has been modified, Professor? Will he…remember me or anyone else at all, sir? Anything of the past year, sir?" she asked, dreading the somber look in Professor Albus Dumbledore's normally twinkling sky-blue irises, which now seemed dull and lifeless by comparison.

Albus frowned, the edges of his mouth dipping down sharply as he shook his head. He realized that he had presented his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's case completely wrong, and was quick to correct his mistake and supplicate the young woman's growing discomfort somewhat.

"It is best to be prepared, Miss Raywood, for anything. I think it best going forward to operate under the assumption that Quirinus's memory of you and your past friendship has been eradicated and you would do well to treat him as though he were a perfect stranger." He paused, attempting to diffuse the sense of horror and defeat he sensed within the young woman Quirinus's age now seated across from him. "Perhaps, if you are agreeable to stay with the man while he heals, you could consider this a second chance. An opportunity to start over, to teach Quirinus about the sort of man that he was. To tap into the goodness that exists still within him, otherwise, my professor would not still be alive, my dear."

Somewhere deep within her, an abrupt bitterness stung and settled and seeped its way into the pit of Elisabeth's stomach. There was a part of the witch that wanted nothing more than to rant and rave at the Headmaster, to laugh at the man, and coldly inform Albus Dumbledore that there was nothing good left of Quirinus Quirrell. The man she had befriended years ago while being home-schooled at her father's command had died the night they rowed so horribly, and she had not bothered to look back ever since.

Yet, she had come at Albus's request, and even now, as she realized that Albus was asking for her cooperation in healing a man she'd not spoken to in years, and now, would not even remember her, she sensed the urgency in the old man's blue eyes.

She sighed heavily as she realized Quirinus had no one else in his life to turn to for help of this magnitude, at least not that she knew of. Even during the years they had been friends, he had leaned on her heavily for her friendship. To the best of her knowledge, she had been and perhaps still was, the man's only friend. The thought sent a violent chill down Elisabeth's spine and she shuddered. Professor Dumbledore was quick to pick up on Elisabeth's reluctance and hesitation and realized her feelings.

"With his memory modified, Quirinus is no longer seduced by Lord Voldemort. He will not be the man that he has become over the last year." He tried to plead the wizard's case. "He will, in essence, be a brand-new man, one, perhaps finally, that the wizarding world could be proud of, but Quirinus will need guidance. He spoke your name as I mentioned to you in your letter only once, but it was more than enough. I feel that you are the fittest for this task, my dear." He cautiously eyed Elisabeth Raywood, hoping the redheaded young witch would comprehend the meaning behind his heartfelt words. "The ghosts of his past have been eradicated the moment his mind was Obliviated," he told Elisabeth softly, his own blue eyes glistening with the onslaught of sad and painful memories. "Please. Will you help him?"

There was something about Elisabeth Raywood's quiet and mild-mannered voice that made Albus listen.

Her tone was strong, determined, and unfazed. He closed his eyes tiredly for a moment before opening them and looking up at the witch. She really was quite pretty. Even Albus could admit that much of her.

She was not too thin and waifish, but she was athletic. Red hair roughly sliced to shoulder lengths and framed her face in stray wisps and strands. A light smattering of freckles dusted along the bridge of her slender nose. Dark brown eyes that weren't unlike Quirinus's own.

Elisabeth Raywood was a beautiful witch, yes, but there was more to her than looks. She was beautiful, yes, but subtly so. In the sort of way where if a witch or wizard happened to be observant and possessed a keen eye as he did, one would look twice and see her strong spirit.

Albus knew this to be a good thing.

It meant the witch was more than capable of handling Quirinus and whatever challenges the man's recovery would present to her, but it also meant there was a possibility it would make it that much more dangerous for her. But…she was his best chance at recovering and perhaps bettering his life now.

Elisabeth narrowed her eyes as she noticed Quirinus's former employer staring at her melancholy.

She remembered she owed the Hogwarts Headmaster an answer, though it felt as though her mind were reeling. She thought for a moment. Her head was swimming with all the information that Dumbledore had divulged. Deep down, she knew the warlock was correct in that Quirinus would be much changed, and with no recollection of past events, perhaps this was a chance to start over with him.

To rekindle the friendship that she had thought to be lost for good, and he would be none the wiser. It surprised Elisabeth that she seemed to be talking herself into accepting Albus's request.

Before she could change her mind, almost feeling as if she were in a dream, Elisabeth heard herself answering the Hogwarts Headmaster in a cool, crisp, and professional tone, "I will do it, sir. I will stay with Quirinus and heal him. I give you my word that I will heal him, to the best of my ability, Albus, sir."

She awkwardly crossed one leg over the other as she shifted in her chair and regarded Albus Dumbledore with what she hoped was a look of determined confidence and utter resolve.

The edges of Albus Dumbledore's long grey beard twitched as he allowed the faint ghost of a smile to flit across his lined and weathered features.

"I could not ask that my former professor to be in more capable hands, Miss Raywood. He will be reinstated to his previous position as Professor of Muggle Studies come autumn. It is my hope to see him back by then."

Elisabeth lowered her head in reverence. "He will be, sir," she tried to reassure the Headmaster, though she grimaced as the words left her mouth. She realized that her tone lacked the conviction to sell the argument she wanted to make. Professor Dumbledore nodded his agreement and with a curt nod of his head, terminated their conversation. She was dismissed.

She turned on her heels and fled the Headmaster's office, though she felt his eyes on her even after she closed the door behind her. She leant against the oak panel of the door and exhaled a shaky breath, knitting her fingers together as she pondered the previous moments and what she had just agreed to.

Elisabeth furrowed her brows in thought as she felt as though assenting and agreeing to Albus Dumbledore's request that she be Quirinus's support person while the wizard healed for the better part of the next several months, should have given her a sense of apprehension, perhaps even foreboding.

Or at least, that she would feel a pang of great sadness at mourning the loss of Quirinus's memory, at least, his memory of her. But she could not explain why, but once her decision had been made and intentions announced, all that rested within her heart was a growing sense of hope swelling inside of her.

Perhaps the two of them could start over, after all, she thought, hopeful.

She had not felt hopeful in so long that it was good to have something to look forward to, to have a challenge once again to face head-on. Elisabeth moved away from the Hogwarts Headmaster's office door and headed down the moving sets of staircases, forsaking the gargoyle statue that had brought her to Albus Dumbledore's office in the first place. She wanted to have a few extra minutes to clear her mind.

As she walked, her mind once again melted back to thoughts of Quirinus Quirrell, of their friendship, and how much the wizard had changed within the last year alone. Despite the anger buried that she still felt towards him, Elisabeth Raywood could not stop the faint ghost of a smile from appearing on her face as she allowed her feet to move as if by rote memory to the only place she knew she wanted to go now.

To St Mungo's. To him.