Advanced Magical Theory was an elective class offered once every two years, which meant it was taken by a mixture of sixth and seventh years. I sat down nervously in the back row, alone. I was sure to fall behind in this class.

"Hey," Hestia, the seventh-year Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, smiled at me as she sat in front of me with Evanna Weasley and Frank Longbottom. "Jesse Jordan's ready to verse you again in Quidditch. He's determined to beat you after that last match."

"Oh," I said uncomfortably, "right."

I paused. It was going to be obvious once the games started, so I might as well tell her about my absence now.

"Um," I started to say, "actually-"

"Welcome to Advanced Magical Theory!" Professor Flitwick squeaked cheerfully. "I am pleased to see some of my best students in this class, though of course, we shall keep that fact between ourselves."

"Now, if you recall in your first years, when I said to you that saying the magic words properly is very important and to never forget Wizard Bauffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest-"

We all grinned as we did collectively remember that first memorable Wingardium Leviosa lesson.

"Now I must impress upon you a different wizard's name. Damocles. He was a Greek courtier who commented to the King Dionysius that he believed the King to be incredibly fortunate because of his great power. The King suggested they switched places, to which, of course, Damocles agreed. However, the King, arranged for a huge sword to hang above the throne, held at the pommel only by a single horse hair. Of course, the King was a wizard, and the horse hair was a unicorn's hair, so strong that when tied to an object by magic, as the King did, it could not ever accidentally release that object. However, Damocles, being an unidentified Squib, did not realize this, and instead, begged the King to switch back places, for Damocles had realized that with great power comes great peril, temptation, and anxiety."

"I tell you this because once you have accomplished Advanced Magical Theory, I will no longer have the ability to restrict your knowledge to only the Light Arts. The curriculum at Hogwarts is structured to avoid learning the Dark Arts, as I am sure you have noticed. But in teaching you Advanced Magical Theory, which is the basis of verbal magic, I must inadvertently hand you the fundamental tools of the Dark Arts as well. You will become curious, I am sure, but remember Damocles. Remember that knowledge itself is useless, the way you chose to implement your knowledge is everything."

And on this ominous note, we began to learn the roots of magical spells.


The Marauders had taken up their mantle as pranksters proudly in their sixth year, and they were pranking worse than ever, and the object of their attention often involved Lily, no doubt due to James' preoccupation with her. The rest of us four were definitely improving in reflexes such as ducking and jumping.

I remembered one particular morning when Sirius had hid behind the couch and secretly hit Lily with a Trip Jinx only to have James heroically rise from the nearby table and catch her.

"James, she isn't stupid," I remember saying.

Another afternoon, James had discovered a way for Sirius to levitate him into the girls' dorm after dinner. He'd walked into our dorm just as Lily had stepped out of the shower to change in a towel. She screamed and attempted to hex his eyes out. He'd tripped, and a very messy affair occurred where James' glasses fell off. He haphazardly attempted to grab them as they fell through the air, but accidentally groped Lily's breast. She'd screamed at him that it was on purpose, to which James replied, "No! Trust me, I want my glasses on my face for this!"

I'd barely managed to save a blind James from a powerful right hook from Lily as Alice hastily shoved Lily's wand underneath her pillow, out of sight and out of reach. I grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the way just as he put on his glasses.

"Whoa, Evans, that's dangerous!" James had said as he witnessed her fist barely missing his face. I hastily shoved him out the door.

"Nice save," James told me cheerily, once we were both down in the common room.

I shook my head in utter exasperation. "I don't know what you were thinking, James."

Remus, who appeared on the other side of James, said under his breath, "He wasn't."

However, it was true, that a few mishaps later, the Marauders had definitely become more subtle, thought I suspect it was, in large part, due to Remus and I constantly berating James for going about it the wrong way.


"Fizzing Whizzbees."

The gargoyle turned and as it did, I remembered the very first time I'd ever noticed this gargoyle. Way back…That morning, while on my way to the History of Magic Tower, I remember seeing a rather tall and very slender man standing in front of a Gargoyle, which Dorcas told me led to was the Headmaster's Office. He had dark hair, but other than that feature, it was hard to distinguish him for he looked waxy, blurry, almost as thought he was not quite all there.

"Ah, Ms. Kingsley. Welcome to your lessons for Legilimency and Occulumency," he rose from behind his desk and gestured for me to sit. I took a seat awkwardly, and a bird of the most ecstatic, beautiful plumage squawked in a low, melodious tone.

"A phoenix?" I said in wonder.

"Yes," Professor Dumbledore said and stroked the bird's tail. "His name is Fawkes."

I nodded, all the while wondering what kind-of teaching methods Dumbledore would use. They would be eccentric, no doubt.

And indeed, he began with, "Let us have a conversation."

I sat still, quite nervous. I knew nothing about Legilimency, what if he asked me some question that I couldn't make heads nor tails of?

"How was your stay at the Potters?"

"Oh," I said, surprised. "It waslovely. They were lovely."

"I am glad to hear it. Now, forgive me if I am wrong," he said, his blue eyes twinkling behind his glasses, "but you were able to see your parents four times over the course of the summer?"

"Yes, sir," I answered, a little confused. Why would it interest Dumbledore how many times my parents visited me?

"And were you aware that during one of these visits, you performed Legilimency on your mother?"

"I-sir?" I said, startled.

"Yes, you penetrated your mother's mind and at the very tip of her mind, you found a lingering memory."

"So it was real?" I asked immediately, nearly cutting Professor Dumbledore off. "What I saw, it was what actually happened?"

"It was what your mother witnessed."

"And the act of seeing that memory was Legilimency?"

"Yes, and no," Dumbledore replied, smiling a little. "Legilimency in itself is a whole branch of magic centered on the understanding of the mind and learning the methodologies of how to navigate the curious pathways of the mind."

He paused. "Have you heard of Legilimency before?"

"I've heard it described once as 'mind-reading'," I responded, remembering Dorcas reading aloud while relaxing on my bed, unwilling to move to her own, "but from what you've said, Professor, it seems a lot more complex than that."

"Yes, the simple paraphrasing of 'mind reading' will not allow you to delve into Legilimency as wand-making requires," Dumbledore agreed. "I wonder, Ms. Kingsley, if you have thought about why wand-making requires the art of Legilimency?"

I had naturally wondered this, but had been unable to come up with any proper answers. "I'm not sure, Professor."

"Well, I am sure that Mr. Ollivander will explain this thoroughly to you in due time, but in my humble knowledge, wand-making can be viewed as a matching of personalities and thought processes. A wandmaker must be able to feel, if not specifically identify, the rhythmic energy that ebbs in the wands themselves and in humans, in the form of thoughts, feelings, and actions. Otherwise, a wandmaker would be searching forever to match one customer with one wand. You see?"

"But of course the study of the mind is difficult to learn and even more difficult to communicate, so you must forgive me if I puzzle you often, Ms. Kingsley. The study of the mind is particularly difficult because it is not complete, nor will it ever be so, I believe. For while you may be able to physically hold a brain in your hands, to speak of the mind evokes the idea of a nearly immaterial power. For we cannot crack open a brain and find our thoughts and those feelings which we cannot put into thoughts inscribed on the linings of our brains. Therefore, we will begin with…"

And Professor Dumbledore began to explain to me the structure of a mind; how the mind was a paradoxical maze that began with the entryway of a brain.

"Imagine many mazes on top of one another, all shifting at the same time, leaving only one point in the whole map at a time unobscured. One point where you can place your own presence in, else you will be blocked out. If you are able to keep up with the shifting, it will lead you to a specific place in that person's mind which is representative of a shade of thought or hue of feeling. From there, one may deduce a prediction of a possible manifestation of action."

"Then my mother's memory?" I wondered aloud. "I don't recall ever taking undergoing such a difficult process to see that memory."

"Ah, memories are slightly different than fountains of thoughts. Memories are placed in the mind according to how prominent they seem to us. For your mother, that memory must have been singularly prominent, lingering in her mind all the time, at the very edge of her conscious- or center, for in the mind, what is on edge is also closest to the core…"

"Legilimency is also reliant on the recipient. The more willing they are to show you their memories or thoughts, the wider that one unobscured point in the many mazes becomes. Of course, this will naturally lead us to our second topic of Occulumency, the practice of defense against Legilimency. However, take note that eye contact is also incredibly helpful and furthermore, the less the physical distance, the easier it is to share thoughts. Interesting, isn't it? Thoughts are not three-dimensional but as our actions take place in the realm of space and time, thoughts are still influenced by worldly aspects."

"Yes… But Professor, may I ask a question?"

"Of course."

"How did you know I saw into my mother's mind and how did you know that I saw that particular memory?"

"Professor McGonagall informed me of your decision to withhold from Quidditch this year, for she wished to ask advice from me on what way to respond that would be of the best help to you. I naturally deduced that the most probable reason for you to stop partaking in an activity you seemed very much to enjoy was not only the mere knowledge of your brother's tragedy, but the actual visual recollection of such."

"Oh," I said hollowly, "I see."

"Ms. Kingsley," Professor Dumbledore said in a gentle voice, "such a burden will become easier to bear with time."

"Many kind people have said that to me," I agreed, and then I voiced what I had been unable to reply to everyone else. "But I think I disagree. These memories… People say they fade in time and so I'll heal, but I don't see these memories ever fading."

Professor Dumbledore replied, "Yes, of course, some wounds time cannot heal. Some memories, time cannot erase. But you must trust yourself to grow stronger, and sooner or later, you will learn to bear the burden with you instead of against you."

"By the way, Ms. Kingsley," Dumbledore continued, "I knew you visited your parents four times because every time they visited, I asked for my friends, such as Andromeda and Ted Tonks, to protect them."

"How did you know I was wondering about that? Did you read my mind then?" I asked wondrously, for I had only thought that question and not yet spoken it aloud.

"No, no," Professor Dumbledore said dismissively. "That question was simply evident on your face. Never forget, Legilimency is an inefficient method only to be used on the rare occasion that one's thoughts are not simply written on one's face. It is, speaking metaphorically, only necessary when a confusing book title requires deeper delving. But with A History of Magic, you would never need to open it to comprehend its vast tediousness, would you? Most people are -forgive me for the crudeness- History of Magics. Their faces tell all."

"And what about you, Professor?" I asked curiously. "What book would you define yourself as?"

"Well, between us, I'd like to think that I was a Muggle magazine filled with vivid, interesting knitting patterns for socks."

I felt my eyebrows raise; I couldn't help myself.

"Don't look so surprised, Ms. Kingsley. There is nothing better than a pair of thick, woolen socks."


"So, what are lessons with Dumbledore like?" Lily asked me, her eyes alight with curiosity as we all sat together. We'd all pushed chairs together and bedside tables together and then hung blankets over them to make a small tent that we were all under now. We had jars inside that danced with colored lights, courtesy of myself and Lily and they lit up the inside of our makeshift tent. We'd all crammed together with pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, and chocolate.

"Mind-boggling," I answered honestly. "I feel like he bends words back on themselves sometimes."

"I bet. I mean, he's brilliant, but he's also absolutely mad," Marlene said. "A bit like you, Dorky."

Dorcas grinned and replied, "Regardless, I think it's wicked that you have private lessons with the Headmaster."

"Yeah," I agreed.

"So", Alice said, nodding at the sticks in a vase in the middle of our circle. "What are these for, Lily?"

"Oh, right," Lily said excitedly, sitting up so that the top of her head scraped against the blanket that served as our ceiling. "So I was thinking- when we grow older, how are we ever going to decide which one of us are maids of honor for the other. I mean, we all love each other like sisters, how are we supposed to choose?"

"Oh Merlin, Lily," Dorcas groaned, already understanding where this was going.

"So we each pick a stick and the name written on the bottom- that's who we're the maid of honor for. I've enchanted them so that we can't pick ourselves and nobody can be pick or be picked twice," Lily explained.

"You think of the most ridiculous things," Dorcas laughed. "But of course, you wouldn't be Lily Evans if you didn't."

"All right," Dorcas sighed, propping herself up on her elbows. "Who's going first?"

"Shall we have a quick game of Basilik, Phoenix, Rooster?" Marlene asked.

"That's no fun. I always win," Dorcas said matter-of-factly.

"I've been practicing," Marlene said airily. "I might put up a good fight now."

"Yeah, right," Dorcas retorted. "Listen, I can already list how this is going to go. It'll be me, Lily, you, Alice, Ray."

Marlene disagreed, so we went at it.

Three minutes later, the order to pick was: Dorcas, Lily, Marlene, Alice, and then me.

Rolling her eyes, Dorcas leaned over and picked out a stick. She read aloud, "Alice."

Alice blushed, but couldn't hold back her smile.

"Thinking about Frank?" Lily teased.

"No. Besides," Alice said, looking down, "I think he already likes Dorcas."

"Rubbish," Dorcas said, shaking her head. "I annoy him far too much. We're just friends, that's all."

"Yeah, and Dorcas has already got Jay. You know, he looks much cuter with his glasses off. I saw him trip down the Astronomy stairs and his glasses flew off," Marlene said, laughing. Dorcas' eyes shot daggers at her.

Then it was Lily's turn. Her hand roamed over the sticks until, with an excited squeal, her fingers latched onto one and pulled it out.

"Marlene!" she read aloud excitedly.

"Oh, good, you've got excellent fashion sense. You'll know not to dress gingers in pink or frills," Lily said, and beamed. Marlene laughed.

"Hey!" I said indignantly. "What are you saying about the rest of us?"

"I'd dress you in pink and frills," Dorcas grinned at Lily. "I'd be so busy laughing at you I'd forget about any nerves."

Marlene then reached across Alice to pick out a stick. Barely able to reach it, she accidentally pulled out two sticks instead of one.

"Ow!" she shouted. "What the-it zapped me!"

"Oh, sorry, must've mistaken the Rejection Charm for the Electric Charm," Lily apologized but was unable to hold back a giggle.

"You knew that was going to happen!" Marlene said.

"Well," Lily shrugged, "I hoped."

Grumbling, Marlene reached in and pulled out a single stick this time. She smirked when she saw the name. "Dorky! she sang, "Looks like you're all mine!"

"Ugh," Dorcas said. "Right, well, I'm going to make you wear the most hideous dress ever and give you flowers that make you sneeze."

"I don't care," Marlene said in her sing-songy voice. "I lurvveee you." She wrapped her arms around Dorcas' head like some octopus and planted a big kiss on the top of it.

"Ugh!" Lily, Alice, and I chorused together, laughing our heads off.

"Get off of me!" Dorcas protested.

"Okay, Alice, you choose," Lily said, pushing the vase towards her.

Alice closed her eyes, put her hand in, and then pulled out one stick.

"Ray," she read out with a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, lord, Alice," I said, shaking my head. "I'm sorry. You really did get the short end of the stick."

"Why?" she asked me curiously.

"Because what's the chance I'm going to ever get married?" I said, laughing. "Alice, just let me know when you're bored of life and I'll hook up with some random bloke on the street, shall I?"

"We're only in sixth year," Lily said. "Who knows what'll happen?"

"Anyways," Lily continued, "that means that Ray, you got me!"

She pulled out another stick, expecting to see her name on the bottom, but grimaced when it zapped her.

"You can't pick two, right. Who decided that?" Lily muttered to herself, sucking her finger.

Marlene sighed in content and said joyously, "Oh, karma, what a beautiful thing."