A few days after Christmas, an owl came and found me at Hogwarts, carrying the Daily Prophet. I flipped through it at breakfast, and to my surprise, I found a picture of the Ministry of Magic plastered with posters and there was a picture of me, too- an old picture, from when I had been held at the Ministry for protesting years ago. The article read:
Questionable Sanity of Hogwarts Professor
As her sister before her, Raylynx Kingsley seems to have developed a taste for purposefully harassing the Ministry. This year, on Christmas Eve, Ms. Kingsley went on an unwarranted rampage, desecrating the Ministry with "Sirius Black is Innocent" poster. It has been ten years since Sirius Black was imprisoned, and not a shred of evidence has been brought forth to counter the legality of his imprisonment. Naturally, the question must be asked: Is Raylynx Kingsley insane and if so, should she be removed from her post at Hogwarts? The public is free to contact the Governors of the School Board and the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, on this matter. If you do reach out, please send an owl to the Daily Prophet, informing of us of the response you receive.
I snorted and flipped the paper over. No doubt Umbridge was behind this.
I got up from my seat and pulled on my cloak. I had guard duty tonight. I made my way through the castle quickly, not expecting any trouble since it was Christmas break. I quietly made my way past the library and then, I saw that the door of the unused classroom was slightly ajar. I peered in and to my surprise, I saw Harry, sitting and holding his knees to him as though he were crying. The Invisibility Cloak was lying a few feet away from him. My eyes moved past Harry and I realized that he was sitting in front of the Mirror of Erised.
Then, another voice sounded out from the desks alongside the classroom wall, which was out of sight to me. "So- back again, Harry?"
I stifled a gasp as Dumbledore emerged.
Harry said hurriedly, "I- I didn't see you, sir."
"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore said.
For a moment, I wondered if Dumbledore might punish Harry for being out of bed, and I was ready to step in, but then I remembered that Dumbledore was the one who had given Harry the Cloak and that Dumbledore's mission was to try Harry's strength.
I watched as Dumbledore sat beside Harry on the floor. "So, you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."
"I didn't know it was called that, sir," Harry said in a small voice.
"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"
"It — well — it shows me my family —"
I suddenly realized what Harry had been gazing at the entire time. Not the Mirror, of course, but his family. So, now he knew. Harry knew what Lily and James looked like.
"And it showed your friend Ron himself as Head Boy," Dumbledore continued.
"How did you know — ?"
"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore gently. "Now, can you think what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"
Harry shook his head.
"Let me explain," Dumbledore said. "The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"
Harry thought. Then he said slowly, "It shows us what we want . . . whatever we want . . ."
"Yes and no," said Dumbledore quietly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.
"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable Cloak back on and get off to bed?"
Harry stood up.
"Sir — Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?"
"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."
"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"
"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."
I started. Dumbledore turned ever so slightly in my direction and I saw his spectacles flash in the moonlight. I quickly moved away from the door and turned the corner. As I did, I heard Dumbledore say ruefully, "One can never have enough socks. Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."
Those were simpler days, Dumbledore.
I had laughed at the Daily Prophet article, but it was hard to laugh now. I was supposed to be teaching my third-years, but my classroom stood half-empty. On my desk were letters from students' parents, asking that I approve their child's removal from the class. As one parent put it, "You must spare my child's sanity, even if you have lost yours."
I sighed and said, "Well, does anyone else want to leave? Perhaps someone who wasn't able to tell their parents?"
"My parents were Muggles. They didn't get the Daily Prophet," I explained. "So I'd always have to sort these things out on my own."
The students shifted uncomfortably.
Then, Cedric, who sat towards the back, slowly raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Diggory?" I said. I tried to appear casual, but I was worried. If Cedric was anything like Amos, he wouldn't have a problem making his opinion known, even if it was bad.
Instead, Cedric, in a quiet voice said, "Respectfully, I don't care what the Daily Prophet says. I think you're a great Professor, and that's what matters to me."
Lee Jordan raised his hand. I nodded at him.
"My father said he went to school with you," he said. "He played Quidditch with you and he said that even though he doesn't know about this Sirius Black stuff, you're not the type to do something without reason."
"I think the Daily Prophet is blowing this out of proportion," another student piped in. "No one really knows what went on during the war."
"But she's the only one who believes this," someone else muttered from the back of the classroom.
"Everyone's got their quirks," George commented in his ever-carefree tone.
"Sure, what's magic without a bit of madness?" Fred said sagely. "Just look at Dumbledore."
There was some murmurs of agreement to this.
"All right, all right." I gave an exasperated laugh. "I was asking if anybody needed a signature to leave, not for words of praise to get my spirits up."
I smiled and said, "I appreciate the thought. Now, let's continue from where we left off before break. It looks like if I'm going to have to prove my sanity, I'm going to have to train you all into the best Runic witches and wizards there ever was. Page 416, everyone!"
After class, I headed down for a spot of lunch.
"Raylynx," Professor Vector said crossly, as I took seat beside her. "Why did my class suddenly double in size?"
"Clearly they all heard how excellent you were, and went running off to learn from you," I replied.
"All from your class?" she responded skeptically.
"It was like watching a herd of thirsty elephants racing towards an oasis," I assured her.
Professor Vector's icy glare melted a bit, and she mumbled into her porridge.
On the other side of me, Professor Sinistra subtly rolled her eyes and said under her breath, "Smooth, very smooth, Raylynx."
The next Quidditch match was coming up.
McGonagall had stopped me in the staffroom the other day to tell me that Snape would be refereeing the next match.
"Are you joking?" I said. "He'll be looking to take points away from Gryffindor and he doesn't know a thing about Quidditch."
"Yes, but the Headmaster has already given his approval," McGonagall said. "I'm simply telling you in advance so you don't have a stroke the day of. Knowing you, you tend to be very dramatic about these things."
I wanted to respond, but I couldn't. McGonagall was right. I was very dramatic about these things. But in my new mood of pettiness, I'd take what I could get.
But Flitwick, who had been listening nearby, was on my side. "Professors who are Heads of Houses should be able to referee," he said stoutly. "I consider myself as fair as the next wizard, but I'm aware that I would always be thinking about my own House in the back of my mind."
McGonagall smiled and said, "Funnily enough, Filius, had the Sorting Hat made different last-second decisions for you and me, you and I would be Heads of each other's Houses."
Flitwick smiled and said graciously, "A great loss for Ravenclaw, I'm afraid."
On the day of the match, McGonagall and I sat together.
"I'll cross my fingers that a Bludger takes him out," I muttered, watching Snape stride onto the field.
McGonagall sighed. "Must I remind you to remain neutral?" she scolded me.
"I am. Snape's not on a team," I pointed out.
McGonagall grumbled to herself about the irony that she, as the Head of House, was allowed to display favoritism, and yet she ended up spending all of her time reminding me and the commentator, Lee Jordan, to be neutral.
I searched the crowd for Quirrell's turban, and I had just spotted him when I noticed Dumbledore himself making his way up the stands. He sat right beside Quirrell, who seemed to fidget endlessly, his purple turban bobbing up and down in a slightly hypnotizing way. Had I been in my cat form, I knew I wouldn't be able to resist the urge to bat at it and swipe at the tail of cloth coming out of it.
Snape blew the whistle and the game began.
George Weasley immediately hit a Bludger directly at Snape, and Snape promptly awarded Hufflepuff a penalty. A few minutes later, Snape awarded Hufflepuff yet another penalty, for no apparent reason. McGonagall put her hand on my arm, to stop me from complaining. I was about to make a snide remark anyways, when I suddenly saw the Snitch. I inhaled quickly. No one else seemed to have noticed, not even the Seekers themselves. But my trained eyes saw it flitting along the pitch, hovering just above the ground. I gripped McGonagall's hand and prayed to myself, please let Harry see it. Please let Harry see it. McGonagall looked at me and seeing how intense my gaze was, followed it and saw it for herself. Just then, Harry dove, streaking to the ground like a bullet.
"Yes!" I shouted, knowing that the win was in the bag.
Sure enough, Harry pulled out of his dive, arm raised triumphantly, with the Snitch captured in his hand. McGonagall clapped loudly and hugged me. Dumbledore made his way down to the stands and down to Harry to congratulate him. Quirrell seemed relieved that Dumbledore had left him, but upon meeting my gaze, left rather quickly from the Quidditch pitch. For the thousandth time, I wondered what exactly Dumbledore was waiting for. I myself found it more and more difficult to hold back from confronting Quirrell myself.
Two weeks later, I received a warning letter from one of the twelve school governors for my recent poster spree in the Ministry of Magic. Except for the anxiety that I might lose more of my students, I couldn't care less. What I cared about was that I wasn't anywhere closer to securing Sirius a trial. This is what I was thinking about when I walked down to the Great Hall on Sunday morning and saw that Gryffindor had lost one hundred and fifty points in one night.
I hurried to the teacher's table and found McGonagall.
"Professor, do you know what happened?" I asked her.
"I do," she said, and her lips formed a thin line. "Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Neville Longbottom were caught out of bed and in an out of bounds area last night. I gave them all detentions and took off points as approriate."
"But a hundred and fifty-" I began.
"It's not the first time Harry Potter has been caught breaking rules. It was time to give him a strict warning," McGonagall said sharply. "They must learn to follow the rules. If not for their own safety, then for the safety of others. Potter fed Malfoy some cock-and-bull story to get Malfoy out of bed. Longbottom, having heard it as well, went searching after Potter and Granger to warn them of Malfoy. If such elaborate schemes continue, someone is bound to get hurt, possibly at a time and place where no Professor could reach them."
I fell silent. As much as I thought the punishment was harsh, it was also fair.
Having heard the story, my heart went out to Neville. It must have been incredibly frightening for him to try to find the others in the dark, to warn them of Malfoy, and how hurt he must have been to have learned it was all false.
I couldn't believe Harry could have gotten caught, though, given that he had the Invisibility Cloak.
I hesitated, and then I said, "Where were they found?"
"The Astronomy Tower," McGonagall said. "As they surely knew, it's out-of-bounds."
"Yes," I said, but I was thinking to myself.
After breakfast, I quietly made my way to the Astronomy Tower.
It was Sunday, so the place was empty. Professor Sinistra would not come in until dark, when the stars came out.
Breathing a little heavily after the long climb up the staircase, I found the Invisibility Cloak, at the very top of the tower. I tucked it under my arm and made my way back down. As I was passing the Great Hall back to my room, I saw Neville, who had clearly been crying. He was wiping his face with his shirt sleeve. I stuffed the Invisibility Cloak in my inside cloak pocket before I approached him.
"Neville," I called.
He paused and a flicker of fear passed over his face until he saw it was me.
"Neville," I said again and walked over to him.
"Professor," he returned, trying to look like he hadn't been crying.
"It's going to be all right," I said. "I know it must feel awful, but it's just House Points. Don't worry."
Neville nodded bravely, though I could tell he didn't believe me one bit.
I put my hand on his shoulder briefly before turning away.
I went up to my room and I wrote a note saying "Just in case" that I meant to pin on the Invisibility Cloak that I was going to return to Harry.
But then, I paused. I have the Invisibility Cloak. What better chance will there be to spy on Quirrell without having to argue with Snape and Dumbledore?
I made up my mind to tail Quirrell after dinner that night.
Because the truth was that I had my own suspicions about Quirrell, information that I not relayed even to Dumbledore.
It had come to me when I was sitting in the cell at the Ministry of Magic on Christmas Eve after another failed attempt to protest for Sirius. Moody had divulged that the Aurors were doing missions in Albania. Hearing him say that had switched on a light bulb in my head. It had illuminated the ever-so-obvious fact that I had forgotten about, which was that I had first met Quirrell in Albania. He had been there to study vampires. In fact, it was by reading Quirrell's mind that I saw the path to the vampires' lair. And it was in the vampires' lair that I had seen Voldemort. Putting the two together, it was likely that Quirrell was either forcibly or willingly acting on behalf of Voldemort, and Quirrell had likely been ordered to steal the Stone and try to kill Harry before bringing back the Stone to Voldemort. It explained why, as Sehtzer had put it, there had been a shadow and a sorcerer haunting the mountainside together and why that darkness had, for the time being, been put on hold. Voldemort was likely waiting for Quirrell somewhere in Albania. It occurred to me that Quirrell was likely the wizard amongst the vampires when Snape and I had been attacked while escorting Flamel. If Quirrell had been working for Voldemort since then, interrogating him might lead me to where Voldemort was now. In fact, I was not opposed to using Legilimency if necessary, though I hated using it ever since I accidentally broke into Amy's mind and saw the memory of what Tom Riddle had done to her and Dennis at the cave by the sea.
But first, I would simply tail Quirrell and attempt to speak with him. Quirrell was easily frightened, so perhaps Voldemort had manipulated him or terrorized him into doing his bidding. If that were the case, Legilimency would not be needed, as I could persuade him to tell me where Voldemort was by ensuring him protection. I sighed and leaned forward against my desk. The cave by the sea… Could I ever forget the sound of the waves crashing on that unforgiving rock? Could I ever forget the feeling of losing Regulus and then falling down, down, down into that crushing sea? I absent-mindedly pulled out the music box that Regulus had given me all those years ago. I turned it a few times, but after the first few notes bled out, I shut it and without really thinking about it, I put it away in my pocket. This was not the time to be sentimental. If I was going to use Legilimency, I had to be firm mentally.
I saw Quirrell at the dinner table that night. When he stood up and left, I followed as naturally as I could. Then, once I was out in the Great Hall, I quickly hid behind a statute and put on the Invisibility Cloak. I trailed Quirrell, expecting him to go up to his chambers. Instead, he began to climb up the stairs. I followed him, all the way to the third-floor corridor. Just before he opened the door to the corridor, I hastily put away the Invisibility Cloak and stepped out.
"Professor Quirrell!" I called out. I tucked my wand in my sleeve, hiding it so that he would not see that I was hiding my wand.
Quirrell jumped and turned to face me.
"Professor K-Kingsley," he said. "I didn't s-see you there."
"No," I agreed. I waited a moment before asking, "Why are you here? Did Dumbledore ask you to come here?"
"Yes, e-exactly, Dumbledore asked me here," Quirrell said. "P-precisely."
"Is something the matter with your troll?" I asked, casually referring the fact that I knew what his skill was.
Quirrell paused. "How d-did you know-?"
"I saw it," I lied easily, "when I came down here to contribute my own little part."
"Ah," Quirrell replied. I could see a thin line of sweat forming on his upper lip.
"But you couldn't control that mountain troll on Halloween, could you?" I said quietly. "I wonder why that was, why you so suddenly lost control of your skill."
"I had n-no opportunity to control that t-troll," Quirrell tried to explain.
"And is that why you're here now?" I asked. "To control your troll- as well as to overcome the other defenses?"
Quirrell paled. "I d-don't know what you mean."
"Quirinus," I said, dropping my pretense, "I can help you. Whatever trouble you're in, I can protect you."
Quirrell tried to smile, but his lips quivered. "I'm afraid I d-don't understand," he said.
"You do. I know you do," I replied firmly. "Don't forget where we met. I know what lurks in the Accursed Mountains of Albania, and I know you ventured there too."
"V-vampires," Quirrell said, swallowing hard. "Yes, they're f-fascinating."
"But it's not just vampires in there, Quirinus, are they?" I said softly.
Suddenly, I heard a third voice that was neither mine nor Quirrell's.
Seize her!
Quirrell, with surprising athleticism, dropped all manner of hesitation in his countenance and suddenly leapt over to me. He grabbed my shoulders and tried to force me against the wall.
With a dexterity that was surprising even to me, I turned sideways and ducked lithely in response to Quirrell's attempts to grab me. It was frightening how my body reacted so quickly. I had spent so many long years and so many dark nights trying to forget the war, but my instincts for self-preservation were still as sharp as though the war had never left me. I realized then that both physically and psychologically, I had ever truly moved on. Once Quirrell's arms had missed me, I straightened up and then shoved him hard in the shoulder with my own. While he stumbled, I quickly dropped my wand, which I had kept waiting in my sleeve, directly into my hand.
But Quirrell's magic was, as I observed the very first time I met him, very quick. Like his anxious personality, his magic was also anxious, making him very hard to read. Seeing the wand in my hand, he immediately began to cry out, "Expelliar-!"
But I stepped forward and brandishing my wand, shouted, "Legilimens!"
Dark tunnels, and the metallic scent of blood…
A voice whispered, "I can show you all my secrets. I can show you the pathway to true power. It's what you've always craved, isn't it? You, who have been forgotten all your life. You crave power. You seek it above everything. I can give it to you. Bind yourself to me."
"Yes… my Lord."
Then, there was a dark that was deeper than the darkest black entering my soul, my mind, my body…
And you… The voice was speaking directly to me now. Let me possess you…. Let me read your mind…
All of a sudden, the tables turned and I completely lost control. Black smoke erupted and heavily clouded my mind. I fell to the ground. My wand dropped to the floor and rolled away, out of reach. It was as though a serpent was wrapping itself around my memories and my thoughts and squeezing- I was mentally being strangled. I couldn't think straight. I could barely perceive where I was anymore.
Quirrell stepped over me and leaning down, grabbed the front of my robes, dragged me up towards him, and forced me to stare into his eyes.
Quirrell- no, not Quirrell- but that other voice, some other being that shared Quirrell's existence, had managed to intrude into my mind and it was now gaining control over me. I tried to deploy Occlumency, but that haunting disembodied voice, was too adept and slithered through my mental defenses like a true cunning serpent. The snake hissed and crept through my memories, trying to find the worst ones to torture me with. My dead parents floated into my mind.
No! With enormous willpower, I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes. I managed to wrench my mind away from that hideous grasp.
Erase her memory! Now!
"Oblivia-"
Instinctively, I clawed at Quirrell. My hand caught his wand and knocked it out of his hand. It fell to the ground just beside me.
Then, I gasped as Quirrell punched me in the face. I tasted blood in my mouth as my teeth cut into the side of my cheek.
Kill her! You must kill her!
Quirrell tried to choke me with his bare hands. I struggled against him as much as I could, and Quirrell decided to end it by reaching for his wand. I tried to take advantage of his distraction by reaching for my wand. Quirrell saw me and growling, he roughly slammed me back into the floor. The back of my head hit the cement and for a moment, my physical vision went. I lay there, gasping, trying desperately to get my breath and vision back. Fortunately, that knock to the senses, while physically disorientating, had mentally cleared my mind. The intruder of my memories was gone.
Throw her into the chamber if you can't manage her, fool! Let the dog have her!
Wandless and completely disorientated, I couldn't put up enough of a fight against Quirrell as he yanked me up and dragged me to the door. He opened the forbidden door of the third-floor corridor and roughly threw me inside. As I flew through the air, I thought I heard a voice yelling. You fool! You should have killed her immediately. Now, she has weakened me. We must hunt for unicorn blood again tonight and build up my strength before we attempt to retrieve the Sorcerer's Stone.
I hit the ground hard, bruising my shoulder against the cement floor. I tried to scramble to my feet, but I was so dizzy that I when I managed to get one foot up from a kneeling position, I keeled over forward, and when I finally got onto my feet, I swayed for a moment as I tried to find my bearings, and that cost me valuable seconds. By the time I reached the door and pushed against it, Quirrell had shut the door, locked it, and fled.
"Grrrrrrrr..." A deep, menacing growl sounded out from behind me.
I turned where I stood. My vision was starting to blink out, but I still managed to see the full girth of a three-headed beast. This was what Snape had been bitten by. This was Hagrid's obstacle. I instinctively started to scream, but my voice was gone from Quirrell choking me. All three of its heads began to bark, and then, one tried to bite me. With a great gasp, I dove out of the way, but I still felt so disoriented that I couldn't stop myself properly, and slammed against the opposite wall. Something flew out of my pocket, but I hardly noticed.
Think, Raylynx, think! My wand, my wand- But I don't have my wand. Where is it? Did it fall? No, I lost it when- Yes, I lost it when- Quirrell-! That snakelike, venomous darkness still weighed heavy on my mind. I couldn't get past the confusion- that voice, and the way it delved into my memories… I heard the dog barking, but I couldn't control myself. I fell to the floor, and the darkness completely overtook my mind.
