•Fourth Degree - Propositional Knowledge•

Knowledge is my prop.

Everything that defines me is something that I have read in a book...every belief that I hold is something that I've read in a book. I've always thought that the world was ruled by absolutes, that after reading these books that there was no way that people could not agree with what I said. After all, I'd read it in a book, which gave me knowledge. Knowledge is power.

What did I know?

Voldemort's rise destroyed everything that I knew, everything that I held to be absolute. I thought that there was to be one clear cut, easy solution to his problem. I thought it was silly how the wizarding world took so long to stop him the first time. After all, the information that was needed to defeat him was all in these books. Couldn't they see this? He was a psychopathic killer, therefore he would appeal to certain groups, but all they had to be told was that what he was doing was wrong? Didn't they?

Didn't they?

Obviously I was wrong; the scars I know possess on my body now tell me so. See, I have always neglected one main thing in my quest for knowledge. I have always neglected to apply my studies. You would think that someone that was as knowledgeable as me would certainly do great in applying what I learned to real life? Well, I never have been. Mainly because I never try. I remember way back when I still thought I was nothing but a muggle (of course I didn't even know what a muggle was back then), I had to give a presentation in science class based on the lesson we had been learning. I remember spending the entire weekend preparing it, getting ready to present it. I was always being told how smart I was, here was my first real chance to show how smart I was...and I choked up when I got up in front of everyone. Not only did I flounder, but all the information that I had prepared held little relevance to what we had to present.

I was never so embarrassed.

Ever since that day, I've taken great pains to not have to give presentations about subjects unless they are confined into a school setting. I've always done that much better on the Theory end of the spectrum, then on the Practical end of the spectrum. Look at my OWLs. Perfect scores on all of my Theory tests. Average or just barely Exceeds Expectations on my Practical tests. Of course, I never let any of my friends know this, for after all there was little reason to. I had still managed to score high enough thanks to my Theory that I still got into all of my NEWT classes, and I still knew everything they had an answer to. Didn't I?

My boggart is failure.

Starting in my sixth year I started to realize that the NEWTs were heavily based on practical knowledge of the subject. Something I never knew anything about. Starting in my sixth year my world started to unravel. The world around me was in upheaval, and for once, my books offered me little comfort. What did it matter if I could tell you the difference between the toenail of a three year old goat and one that was three years and three months? Could I actually use that information? There are fifteen different variations of the simple pain curse. Could I actually demonstrate them? Possibly, but only if you were standing still and not attacking me. Could I really be of any use? Could I really justify my countless trips to the library when people like Ron and Harry loafed in the common room, or played that silly game of Quidditch?

No.

For as the year progressed I started to see how Ron and Harry, and the countless others, did it. They spent time getting a gist of the subject, and then they went and used it in real life scenarios. They practiced dueling with it, they used it every opportunity that they had, they didn't read books till three in the morning. But I thought they perhaps they were special, that perhaps they were aberrations to the set code, the code that books had taught me a long time ago. They had to be naturally inclined to do magic, that was all! Nothing more, nothing less.

Dumbledore proved me wrong.

I still remember that meeting as well as any other as I see him talking to Professor Moody at this God-forsaken party. I was called into his office alone, I thought perhaps to commend me on the report that I wrote for him about Voldemort's psychological tendencies, and how that could be used to help predict what he was doing, what his motives were, and how to defeat him. Then he told me that while he appreciated my effort, I was totally wrong. None of my research applied to Voldemort, mainly because I'd never met him. But Professor, it says right here in this book that - Sorry Miss Granger, but I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt that isn't Tom's driving force. But Professor right here it says - Once again, Miss Granger, you can't know. You haven't been out in the field.

So I tried.

I tried reaching Voldemort one day when I accompanied the Order of the Phoenix to on a mission, mainly because of my immense knowledge of defense spells. I would know what to cast in certain situations. Or so they hoped. I actually got face to face to Voldemort. Oh no, nobody knows this, for I never told them, for it was the day that my world fell apart. I remember being face to face with him, but feeling no fear, for as I soon as I told Tom that I didn't live in his fantasy world, and that he had to confront his demons, he would snap out of it and then the whole world would be safe.

I learned why Harry has a ritualistic scar on his arm.

Not only did Voldemort laugh at the silly girl, he told me I was so ill-informed, and as such not a threat to his power, that he wasn't going to kill me. He was going to send me straight back to Dumbledore, which he did. Not ever Dumbledore knows how I came to appear next to him that day, for I never told anyone. After all, it was the day I learned that everything that I had spent years secluding myself with was wrong-

"Why are you sitting over here out of the way lass?" came the distinctive voice of someone I would never have the opportunity of ever forgetting.

I turned my head and saw Professor Moody standing in front of me, and focusing on me with both of his eyes. Something he never did. I struggled for a response before finally, for the first time in my life giving the whole truth, "I don't deserve to be with the rest of them."

"Why's that?"

"I never did anything that could help any of them, I only hindered them."

"Why do you say that? You're the smartest witch of your generation if I do say so myself."

"Smartest? Not even close Professor. I may be the most knowledgeable, but I'm no where near the smartest."

Moody lets out a deep breath, and as I turn to look at his disfigured face, he says something I never thought I'd hear, "So you finally figured it out."

My mouth hangs open in shock, "We've been worried about you Miss Granger. That is, the whole Order has been worried about you. We thought that you were unable to see the difference."

"You discussed me like that?" I answer back, with a bit of scandal in my voice. How dare they discuss me like that? What gives them the right-?

"Harry was the one that brought it up at one meeting. How he was worried you would never know the success you deserve because you didn't know how to apply your knowledge," Moody says in another statement that shocks me. HARRY of all people was this perceptive? When did this happen? But Moody goes on, "Albus then thought it was best if we let you figure this out for yourself, because only then would we be able to help you."

"Well, as you can see, I've figured it out, so why don't you help me now?" I saw with a touch of bitterness in my voice. Moody doesn't say anything for a moment as we observe Harry and Professor Dumbledore deep in conversation.

"Miss Granger, I want you to look at my face," I hear Moody say, breaking the silence. Looking at his face, I see the scar from all his battles that I have read about. After a moment, he goes on, "I want you to remember this face. This is the face of lost chances."

I take a moment to take this in as I see Susan Bones approaching where Harry is, and Dumbledore leaving Harry.

"What do you mean, 'lost chances'?"

"If you do not remember to seize your opportunities as they are present to you, you will one day resemble this face. I never took the opportunities to lead a life that wasn't devoid of almost all human emotion, and look how I turned out. Don't end up like me lassie."

I stand silent as he walks up to the table in which the pictures of the war dead are displayed. Right next to Harry and Susan. Oh, Susan, you don't realize how lucky you have it. You have the greatest wizard in the world, and he would do anything for you. I don't have anything; I long ago gave up on any hope that I would ever have what I wanted. I choose to stand by him and try to help him grow with my knowledge, and then hoped that by showing him all that I knew, he would like me for it. And he walked right into your arms.

Oh Harry, you're the greatest wizard in the world, and I know that you care about me a great deal. Why couldn't you give me a chance?

My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of the Weasleys in the fireplace. Curiously as soon as Ron arrives, he looks around as if looking for someone. Apparently he doesn't find the person as for when he stops scanning the room, his shoulders slump and he goes to walk out of the room. Apparently he didn't see me, for I knew he would love to talk to me. We've always been great friends, but I can see how he couldn't see me, as I've secluded myself so.

"I want you to remember this face. This is the face of lost chances."

Suddenly Moody's words stir up in me, and it makes me realize, this is a chance. For what, I don't know. But what's the worst that can happen? I'll fail?

I can tell you without a shadow of a doubt, my boggart after tonight is no longer going to be failure.