A Little Knowledge

Life was back to normal by Tuesday of the following week, or as normal as it could possibly be with a hungry and vengeful vampire on the loose. Sophia had not missed any of her classes, though she was still a bit peaky and tired out a bit before the other girls did. The encounter with the dark curse had taken a lot out of her, and she was slow to recover by anyone’s estimation.

But to the grim satisfaction of all involved, Astrophel Black looked far more haggard and unhappy whenever they saw him at meals. Sissy noted with some interest that he wasn’t eating and that his friends appeared to be shunning him. Slytherin would not recover from the loss of points that he had single-handedly inflicted upon them. They were almost seventy points behind Ravenclaw, which was in third place, but speedily gaining on Hufflepuff. And the term was not yet half over.

As with every Tuesday that term, Martin went to have lunch with his father, walking from the History of Magic classroom, through the densely packed halls to the office of the Transfigurations professor. The door, as usual, was open, but he could hear two people conversing inside. He paused when he realized that one was Uncle Alastor. The other was, of course, his father.

“I’m worried too. I’m going out to the forest this afternoon and look for a way to track the creature. I can’t stand waiting for it to come here any longer,” said Alastor.

Martin swallowed hard at the thought of his uncle going into the Dark Forest, and alone as likely as not. He rubbed his eyes as he remembered how Professor Knowles had looked after doing the same.

“Say good-bye to Martin before you go,” said Dumbledore.

Martin gulped. That didn’t bode well.

Alastor laughed heartily and said, “I’ll see him again before dinner. There’s no need. Unless your hinting that I’m not coming back, Albus.”

Martin heard the sound of parchment being shuffled before his father replied, “Not at all. It’s just that he’s standing right outside the door.”

The younger Dumbledore colored slightly as he stepped into view. He had not meant to eavesdrop. It had just happened.

“Er ...” he said, scratching his head.

“You look peaky, lad,” commented Alastor, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked by, intending to leave. “Come and visit me before curfew. Your friends are welcome too,” he said as an afterthought before stepping into the corridor.

“Sorry,” mumbled Martin to his father.

“For what? I was expecting you,” said Professor Dumbledore, putting a stack of parchments on the corner of his desk.

“Is Uncle Alastor really going into the forest?” he asked, walking over to the window.

“Yes,” answered the professor with a nod, “but I wouldn’t worry about him too much. It’s daylight, and Alastor has gone into the Dark Forest many times before, though it has been a while. And if he somehow manages to find the vampire, it will be much easier to destroy now than it would be at night.”

Martin felt a little relieved at this. He had not considered that the vampire posed a less significant threat during the day. But not everything in the forest feared the light. Martin was quite aware of that, but he also had a lot of faith in his uncle, who was considered a very good Auror.

“Do you like having Alastor here?” asked Dumbledore, who was keenly aware of how much time the two had spent together both in the last few days and while Martin was growing up.

“Of course,” Martin replied with a smile.

“I received an owl from your mother this morning. She thought you would enjoy seeing him again. She also sends her regards,” said Dumbledore.

“I’ve haven’t heard from her in weeks,” said Martin.

“She said the same about you. I would write her if I were you, Martin. She’s out in the field still and not having an especially nice time of it. Her team is investigating Dark Magic use in Wales. It’s a nasty business,” Dumbledore informed his son.

“I’ll do that,” said Martin. “Was Uncle Alastor doing that too before he came here?” he questioned.

“More or less,” answered his father. “Perhaps you should ask him about it.”

“I will,” nodded Martin, “but you know that he might not answer.”

Dumbledore chuckled thoughtfully and said, “He always does what he thinks is best.”

His tone was almost an admiring one, which Martin thought was strange as he knew his father had at one time or another found Uncle Alastor somewhat objectionable.

“I don’t think the girls are too fond of him, but they are beginning to come around,” said Martin.

“He does take some getting used to,” said Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. “I hardly knew what to make of him myself when he was a student and when he first became an Auror. During the war I thought he was reckless, stubborn, unorthodox, and perhaps a little dangerous, but I got over all of that,” he said with a smile.

“How?” asked Martin.

“Your mother was assigned to train with him and she found him acceptable. They were and are a lot alike, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Mum’s not reckless,” said Martin with a frown.

“Not as reckless to be sure, but you’ve never dealt with her in her official capacity as an Auror,” said Dumbledore, silently adding, “nor with her performing the duties of an Auror in unofficial capacity.”

This was something she had done before they were married and before Martin was born. It had spurred her on to enter Auror-training as she had proved herself very capable in France and the Netherlands during the war, though not in the same manner as Professor Dumbledore had. She had not seen any action, of course, but there were other matters ...

“I suppose ...” Martin said.

“How are your year mates treating you these days?” asked Dumbledore, changing the topic of discussion.

Martin gave him a lop-sided smile and said, “All right. They’re much easier to get along with now.”

“A common foe can do that,” said Dumbledore.

That evening after supper, during which Alastor had been present and apparently none the worse for his adventure in the forest, Martin took the girls to visit his uncle with him. They were all curious to know what Moody had seen and found in the Dark Forest, none more so than Sissy, who still shivered to recall Professor Knowles’ words on the subject.

It was about an hour before curfew, although it was nearly dark outside already, thanks to looming winter storm clouds, which were threatening to bring an early blizzard to Hogwarts. But as there were five of them together, they were still permitted in the halls. Sophia for one thought that it was dangerous and a little irresponsible for them to take advantage of this as she preferred, when heeded, to return to the dormitories or at least the less sparsely populated parts of the castle well before the sun finished its descent.

The route that they were taking from the Great Hall, which Moody had left long before they had finished their meal, was a laborious one as the staircases were already switching and moving for the night.

As the five students passed by the darkened classrooms on the third floor, Corinna felt a shiver run up her spine.

“It’s come,” she said in a low voice.

They all knew that she meant the vampire.

“Where is it?” asked Sissy in a whisper, grabbing Martin and Olivia by the arms to prevent them from stopping. She thought it best that they kept moving.

“In an old classroom somewhere just behind us,” she answered. “The window’s half-boarded up or something.”

“Then we can’t get to the Aerie without doubling back,” said Sophia as she followed closely behind Sissy and the others, glancing over shoulder.

“No,” said the blond Ravenclaw, releasing Martin in order to draw her wand.

“But we can make it to my uncle’s rooms,” he said, following her good example, though his palms were already sweaty.

“We should run,” said Olivia, gripping her own wand with tight knuckles.

“It would hear and overtake us,” said Corinna. “It can probably fly much faster than we can run. Best that we don’t make too much noise,” she added. Her face was grim and pale.

“How far?” asked Sissy after a moment.

“Upstairs and down a couple of passages, if the stairs are in the right place,” said Martin.

“You and Olivia had better lead. I’ll take the rearguard,” said Sissy, ushering them forward and dropping back behind Sophia and Corinna.

No one argued with her. They just nodded and obeyed, even strong-willed Olivia, who walked shoulder to shoulder with Martin.

“I hate this,” whispered Sophia, wiping the perspiration from her forehead with her sleeve. It had become stifling and hot as they marched quickly through the corridors toward the stairs.

“Me too,” said Corinna.

They heard nothing but their own feet on the stone as they walked up the stairs to the fourth level of the school. The castle was quiet and seemed almost empty. But this did nothing to abate their fear or ease their minds as they moved as quickly and quietly as they knew how through those deserted corridors. Sissy glanced over her shoulder a half dozen times as they clambered toward the fourth floor. Still nothing.

“This way,” said Martin as they entered the area of the old staff quarters.

He had never found that area particularly creepy, but Alastor had always been with him before. That late evening, every shadow seemed to reach out for him with grasping fingers and ill-intent.

Several minutes later they reached the door to his uncle’s chambers. Martin didn’t bother to knock and simply spoke the required phrase, child of wisdom, and hastily opened the door. The girls shoved their way inside behind him with Sissy nearly slamming the door as soon as she was over the threshold.

“What in Merlin’s name?” asked an incredulous voice.

Martin turned to see his uncle emerge from the bedroom with his wand in hand. He was also wearing only one boot, but Martin hardly noticed in his panic.

“It’s out there,” said Martin breathlessly.

Alastor’s eyes widened, and he asked simply, “Where?”

“The third floor classrooms,” he answered swiftly.

“You all stay here,” said Alastor, dashing for the door and nearly knocking Olivia aside in his haste. “Don’t open the door for anyone,” he added, grasping the knob. He looked at Martin for a moment and said, “And I mean anyone.”

“Right,” he nodded before Alastor disappeared, closing the door tight behind himself.

They all stood there for a moment to catch their breaths before Sissy, Olivia, and Sophia walked over to the couch and sat down, tucking their wands away and staring into the fire that burned in the hearth. Martin remained rooted near the door. Corinna wandered through the parlor, taking in the room with a dazed expression.

“Will he be all right?” asked Martin after a moment. He shook his head to clear it and turned to Corinna, expecting an answer.

He frowned as she walked toward the open bedroom door without acknowledging him. She had a day-dreaming, musing look on her face. She didn’t even seem to hear him.

“Corinna?” he asked more loudly as she stood looking into the dimly lit bedroom.

The fact of the matter was that Corinna did not hear Martin. Something else had her attention, prying open the lid of her Inner Eye and forcing an image upon her that was contrary to what was truly to be beheld ...

Corinna found herself standing in the doorway of an elegantly decorated bedroom. The windows were open, letting in the soft light of evening and a breeze far warmer than was to be expected in early December. The bright blue curtains of the bed fluttered slightly. Their reflection in a mirror in the corner caught her eye. The mirror, free standing and draped, but not completely covered with a dark green, silken cloth, was obviously an antique. Corinna had not seen one like it since visiting her paternal aunt. For a moment Corinna smiled. The room was quite lovely and meticulously kept for that of a witch or wizard; there was nothing out of place.

That smile faded as she heard footsteps behind her. A cold sensation flooded her body as a man seemed to pass through her. Her breath hitched in fright. Was he a ghost? She gulped as she realized that his feet fell evenly upon the floor. He was no mere spirit who stood before her only a few paces away. He was for a brief moment unmoving as he paused with his back to her, but his fists were clenched by his sides. Corinna trembled as she watched his nails dig into his palms.

Then, moving with the speed of a striking snake, he tore his robes from his shoulders. The sound of the fabric rending in his hands startled her. He flung the tatters onto the rug at his feet, panting slightly.

His hands went to the high collar of his old-fashioned shirt. She braced herself, expecting him to rend it as well, but he stopped and began to unbutton the garment rather methodically. One button, then another with no wasted motion. Then it fell unceremoniously to the floor, leaving him clad in only his pants and shoes, which he kicked off before stepping toward the mirror.

Corinna still could not see his face even as he lifted the green shroud slightly and rubbed his face with both hands. She longed to step forward and look, but she felt that she was intruding on something very private. She felt as though she had no business there, and yet as though she were there to a purpose. Her eyes lingered upon him as he stared at his own reflection, grasping the edges of the wooden mirror stand with both hands.

He was like that for a long time. Then the muscles of his back tensed and knotted. He gasped aloud and brought his right hand to his eyes. Corinna shivered as she watched him rub his fingertips together. They were smeared with blood.

She took a hesitant step toward him as though drawn against her will. He wiped his fingers on his dark, loose-fitting pants and stepped toward the bed. Again, her view of him was obstructed by the billowing curtains. He flung himself down onto the soft mattress. The bedclothes rustled beneath him as he turned upon his back and lazily draped an arm over his midsection.

Corinna was pulled toward the opposite and nearer side of the bed. Her heart was pounding as she watched his head loll toward the window. His cheek was blood-splattered, and she noticed that his close-cropped brown hair was sweat-drenched, although she could not understand what exertion he had performed for it to become so. He had merely been looking into the mirror.

His chest rose and fell more slowly after a moment. She realized that he was sleeping, or perhaps he had fainted.

Then his head turned in her direction. A chill passed through her as he spoke.

“Someday I will teach all of you a lesson.”

Looking at his finely chiseled face, she finally understood something. This man looked like the one whom Martin had described, the vampire before he had been bitten. His eyes opened, and he licked a fleck of blood from his lips.

Corinna screamed in terror.

“No, she just ... fainted,” said a frustrated voice from somewhere nearby.

That was the first thing Corinna heard when it was over, when whatever had happened to her ended and let her return to the world she knew. She was only dimly aware of what was going on and afraid to open her eyes once she realized they were closed. Warm arms encircled her, although she was almost certain she was half-lying on the floor too. That was a significant realization in that it was startling enough to cause her eyes to open involuntarily. She found herself looking up at Martin Dumbledore’s chin.

“Corinna?” asked Sophia, whose voice was higher than usual. She was more than a little frightened. Corinna felt her give her hand a squeeze.

“Lass?” questioned the growling voice of Martin’s uncle.

When had he returned? Corinna imagined, given his presence, that she had been out for more than just a few moments.

“Say something,” urged Martin, gazing down at her with worried hazel eyes.

“You caught her, so she didn’t bump her head, right?” questioned Moody, looking over his shoulder.

“Of course,” Martin replied.

“I think I had a vision,” Corinna murmured absently as what she had seen came rushing back to her in all of its strangeness and unwholesome curiosity.

“Of what?” asked Sissy, squeezing the hand that Sophia wasn’t holding.

“A man ... who lived here in these rooms ... I think,” she said.

Moody made a bit of a face and seemed to blanch, but he recovered quickly.

“Who to fetch, I wonder,” he mumbled, rubbing his slightly scruffy chin absently, “Pomfrey or Mallaghan.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital wing,” said Corinna, trying to sit up.

Martin looked worried, but he permitted it. She noticed then that he was a little pale too.

“Well, there’s really no need, if it was only a vision ...” said Alastor thoughtfully. “Help her to the couch, would you, Martin? It’s bound to be more comfortable than the cold, hard floor,” he recommended.

“But she fainted!” protested Sophia as Sissy helped Martin to haul Corinna to her feet.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Corinna, leaning on Sissy, but giving Martin a grateful glance.

“But ...” Sophia began to protest.

Olivia elbowed her harder than she intended, cutting her off before she could argue her point. Sophia rubbed her ribs and glared, but kept silent.

Corinna sat down very heavily on the couch with her two friends at her side.

“How long was I ...?” she asked hesitantly.

“Nearly ten minutes,” said Sissy. “If ... Mister Moody hadn’t returned, we would have probably tried to take you to the hospital wing,” she added, glancing up at Alastor who was standing behind them with Sophia and Olivia.

“And it would have been a foolish stunt,” he said.

“The vampire?” asked Corinna.

“Too quick for me. I saw a bat fly out of an unwarded window. I’ll take care of that in the morning,” said Alastor, adding under his breath, “for all the good it’ll do.”

“I’m sorry,” said Corinna.

“What for?” he asked with a frown.

“I don’t know. I just am,” she shrugged.

“I can contact Professor Mallaghan for you, if you think it would help, lass,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“I see him every Saturday ...”

“That’s a long way off,” said Alastor.

“I wouldn’t want to trouble him,” she said softly.

“If I’m any judge, I don’t think he would be bothered at all,” said Alastor with some confidence. Of course, he was right; this was the sort of thing that Divinations’ professors lived for.

Corinna hesitated. Only one thing was truly stopping her. She wasn’t ready to discuss the details of what she had seen. She didn’t understand what it meant, only that the vampire had once lived in the castle and in those very rooms. He had once been a professor, she surmised, and in her mind that made him all the more dangerous.

“No ... it can wait,” she said to Alastor.

“If you insist,” he shrugged, being of no mind to force the young witch to do anything so against her will.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. Turning, she posed a question of her own: “Who was he? The man who used to live here?”

Alastor considered her question and replied, “He was a professor, and a very disturbed man by all accounts. I don’t think I should tell you anymore than that.”

There was an imploring look in his slightly beady dark eyes as though he wanted her to ask no more questions. She understood. He thought it would frighten the others to know that a wizard who had been a professor had turned to evil and darkness. Corinna rather thought that he was right and merely nodded. If it were possible she would ask Joseph Mallaghan her questions on Saturday or pursue the matter with Moody at a later date.

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