A Little Knowledge

Martin spent that night sleeping on his uncle’s couch. He had refused, albeit very politely, to sleep in the bedroom. His uncle snored. And knowing what he knew about Corinna’s vision and the former professor who had resided therein, the bedroom of the apartment gave him the absolute creeps. Alastor had loaned him a nightshirt, after checking his back for burns, bruises, or other residual symptoms of a strong stunner. Luckily, there had been none, which gave Alastor peace of mind as he had felt a bit guilty about stunning Martin.

In the morning Martin felt very stiff and sore, but his uncle put something in his tea to help that.

“Old family recipe,” Alastor muttered tiredly.

He had been up much of the night patrolling the grounds, which was how he had found the three Ravenclaws, and had not slept much after the incident.

“Are you going to tell my father?” asked Martin uneasily as he nursed his cup of tea.

“No, but I’d appreciate it if you did, lad,” said Alastor somberly.

“Sissy and I are going to see him today, so I’ll have my chance,” he sighed.

“The plot thickens,” chuckled Alastor, helping himself to a piece of toast from their breakfast tray.

They were having breakfast in his rooms so that Martin could slip back to the Aerie when all of the other students, only five not including the girls, had gone for their own morning meal. Martin had estimated that this would not be until after nine o’clock or so as the Ravenclaws slept in during the holidays.

Martin blushed a little and said, “Sissy’s got a ... a theory about the vampire and Legilimency and stuff.”

Alastor raised his eyebrows in surprised and allow his gaze to dart toward the other room. He wasn’t certain how much Martin knew, but he knew enough to fear the creature that was once Christoph Somerville for reasons other than his vampirism. Moody was a little impressed.

“Did she explain it to you?” he asked.

“Mostly, yes,” Martin nodded, “but I don’t think I should say anything until we talk to my father.”

“Probably best,” said Alastor, although his curiosity was certainly piqued. He considered having his own conversation with Albus later.

“She will be expecting me soon,” said Martin, glancing at the clock on the mantel, “and I wouldn’t want to keep Sissy waiting.”

Alastor smiled a little and said, “I guess you can go then, laddie.”

“Thanks,” said Martin with a half-smile as he left the couch a bit stiffly.

“You can come back for more of my tea later,” Alastor offered as Martin stretched.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

Sissy was waiting in the common room when Martin arrived. He had the feeling that she had not eaten and had been waiting for sometime. Olivia was nowhere to be seen, but he knew her well enough to guess that she was already awake and about somewhere in the castle. If she was not at breakfast, then she was in the library.

“I’ll just go change,” said Martin as Sissy leveled her gaze at him.

“Please do,” she said, looking at his rumpled robes in undisguised disgust.

She watched him dash up the stairs and picked up the book she had been reading to occupy her time. It was an almost incomprehensible book on magical maladies designed for use, no doubt, by those who were apprenticed with Madam Pomfrey and not for younger students, even ones so bright as Sissy Howard. But the book had kept her entertained while she waited.

Only a few minutes later Martin returned and she slipped the book into a pocket of her robes, despite the fact that it was uncomfortably heavy. She had plans to return it to the library sometime later, when everything else was done.

“I suppose your father will be in his new office,” she said.

“Or the staff room, but we’ll try there first,” Martin agreed, combing his fingers through his messy curls.

“And you are certain that he won’t mind and that he will listen?” Sissy pressed.

“Of course,” Martin nodded as they stepped through the portrait hole. He could hear Gentleman in his Study behind him making murmured comments about his still disheveled appearance.

Professor Dumbledore was having a rather nice morning all in all before the impatient knocking at the door caused him to overturn his inkpot onto the letter he was writing. The Ministry owl perched on the corner of his desk ruffled its feathers in an irritated fashion and glared at Dumbledore. It had been waiting some time for him to pen his message and send it on its way. He gave the owl an apologetic look, vanished the spilled ink, and called for his visitor to enter.

The new headmaster had yet to give gargoyle below a new password, but Dippet’s Shakespearean Sonnets was no longer valid as he had left the castle. Therefore, anyone could get into the office at the moment, and Dumbledore, still in the processing of moving his things into it, did not mind that so much.

He was a little surprised when Sissy Howard and his son walked into the office. Dumbledore surmised that she had knocked.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, signing his slightly smudged letter before folding it and giving it to the owl. The somewhat officious little bird immediately flew away with his reply.

“Sissy ...” began Martin, groping for the best words, “wants to talk to you.” He was certain those were not them. “About the vampire and some other things,” he added hastily.

Sissy shot a menacing look at Martin and his inarticulateness, which had very suddenly made her feel rather foolish as they approached his desk.

“Me?” asked Dumbledore, wondering why the Ravenclaw had not gone to Flitwick with such concerns.

“You are a Legilimencer, aren’t you, professor?” asked Sissy.

The headmaster had been in the process of leaving his chair, but paused as she asked her question. He looked over his glasses at Sissy and then at Martin. There was a trace of displeasure in his expression as he did so.

“I have some knowledge of Legilimency, Miss Howard,” answered Dumbledore.

“And so does the vampire,” she stated. Sissy suspected that the headmaster was down-playing his level of skill.

“I believe that is a fair assumption,” he replied as a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He imagined that she knew the identity of the vampire quite well. He was impressed with her detective work.

Sissy faltered and hesitated, not certain how to explain her theory. Martin nudged her.

“Could the vampire, by using intense Legilimency on him, have blinded Professor Knowles?” she questioned.

Dumbledore sat down in his chair and looked at Miss Howard very thoughtfully. He had considered something similar to this himself, but Cyrus had blamed the giant spiders of the forest for his condition.

“Are you asking if it is merely possible?” he inquired.

Sissy thought about that for a moment and said, “I ... I have reason to believe that Legilimency could cause bleeding from the eyes, sir, and I’ve read about the Acromantulas and don’t believe they could have ... so I thought ... that perhaps the vampire had somehow ... tricked Professor Knowles and ... caused his loss of sight ... I don’t know how to explain it.”

Dumbledore regarded her for a moment, reminding himself that she was only a second year student, despite the difficulty and complexity of the subject they were discussing, and barely thirteen years old as well. She was doing an admirable job for one so young.

“I understand perfectly, Miss Howard, but Legilimency alone cannot alter memories; it can only sift through them, or at worst tear them from the mind before stuffing them back in again,” he said.

“A Memory Charm then?” asked Martin, who had only naturally been following the conversation, though such things were not by any means his cup of tea. In fact, the idea of ‘tearing’ and ‘stuffing’ made him feel just a bit ill.

Both Sissy and Dumbledore looked at him, which made him color just a bit as he felt that he had said something wrong.

“Of course, that would be a satisfactory answer to the contradiction posed here,” said his father with a slow and thoughtful nod. He stroked his graying beard for a moment. “Yes, and quite difficult to detect unless one was looking for it,” he added mostly to himself.

“And rather simple,” said Sissy.

“Rather,” Dumbledore agreed.

“Then ... Professor Knowles should be informed,” said Sissy, but there was a questioning look in her eyes.

“Oh, most assuredly,” said Dumbledore, “and should your hypothesis turn out to be correct, I imagine he will be much displeased and disconcerted to say the least, but very glad to have the information.”

“You’d be able to take the Memory Charm off, wouldn’t you?” asked Sissy.

“Quite easily, if Professor Knowles should wish it,” he replied.

Sissy shifted from one foot to the other in an uncharacteristic gesture of nervousness and anxiety.

“I should very much like to ...” she began.

But Dumbledore held up his hand and interrupted, “Miss Howard, I cannot give your permission for anything in this matter as it is most certainly not my place, but neither can I stop you from speaking with my young colleague.”

“I understand, sir,” she said with a nod, “but as he was your student, could you perhaps advise me?”

Dumbledore smiled and said, “His great secret is out, is it? Very well then. I suppose I can do that at least.” He looked at Sissy for a moment. “You are rather young to be involved in things such as this,” he said, glancing at his son and thinking, “and that goes double for you, my boy.”

“I am thirteen, sir,” she said coolly.

“Nevertheless ... If you have it in your mind to run to Professor Knowles and tell him all of this, be prepared for him not to believe you. That should be the case Memory Charm or no. He is rather proud,” said Dumbledore.

“Aren’t all Gryffindors?”

“Your point is well taken, but if you have not noticed this characteristic ...”

“I have, sir, and it does not bother me in the least. Professor Knowles has a great deal to be proud of what with his war record and all.”

“That he does,” Dumbledore sighed. “Just tread lightly, Miss Howard. That is my only advice to you. I will, of course, speak with him myself after I have given this more thought and consideration.”

“I should hope so, sir,” said Sissy.

Dumbledore thought about chastising her for her impertinence, but decided that it would do no good, and he rather admired it, especially in such a young and intelligent witch. His wife had been much he same way while in school. He was lucky that Martin had not received a greater share of that trait.

“May I take my leave now, sir?” she questioned.

“Certainly, Miss Howard,” he said, having the peculiar feeling that she was indeed on her way to see Professor Knowles, which was a course of action that he felt was unwise at best.

But he knew that Cyrus was her favorite professor, and that she had ‘adopted’ him as Ravenclaws were wont to do. He could hardly stop that, especially considering that he had been mentor to more students than he could count in his recently ended days of teaching, although a fair amount of them had been Gryffindors. His thoughts drifted to his wife, who had once been one such student, and he smiled as he watched Miss Howard leave.

“You have my permission to go with her, of course,” he told Martin, who was shuffling his feet uncomfortably.

“Actually, I wanted to confess to an incident that happened last night, or rather early this morning,” said Martin. His father gestured for him to take a seat. “I ... um, slipped out of the tower and got caught by Uncle Alastor,” he admitted.

“Did he hex you?” asked Dumbledore curiously.

“Stunned,” said Martin with a wince.

“Ouch,” said the headmaster, “I imagine that was punishment enough, although I am quite curious as to the reason why you were out, knowing how dangerous it is and so forth.”

“I went to the library for research,” said Martin. The answer was as truthful as he dared be as by no means was he going to mention the girls’ involvement in the incident.

“I see ...” nodded Dumbledore. “I wish you wouldn’t take such risks, Martin, and when your mother hears about this ...”

“Mum? You’re going to tell mum?” interjected Martin with widening eyes and a half-horrified expression.

“A lecture from her might do you some good,” his father replied with a smile.

Martin was about to object when he realized what his father meant. A lecture implied that he would be seeing her soon.

“She’s coming here? For the holidays?” he asked quickly. A grin spread over his features as he forgot about the daunting prospect of one of her lectures.

“In a manner of speaking,” said Dumbledore.

“When?” asked Martin, unable to contain his excitement.

“She will be arriving tomorrow morning. She’s taking a portkey from the London office,” he said with a smile.

“That’s wonderful news!”

“I’m glad you’re pleased. She’s quite anxious to see you after the ... exceptional time you’ve had of it so far this year.”

“Me too,” laughed Martin, feeling much better than he had in ages.

Sissy didn’t want to admit it, but her head was spinning. She never liked being in less than perfect control of herself and her emotions, which was perhaps a trait leftover from living abroad in midst of a culture that she found annoying, dance lessons aside. She had never, for instance, lashed out at another student before coming to Hogwarts and meeting Astrophel Black.

So as she walked down the empty corridors, rehearsing what she was going to tell Professor Knowles, she found herself feeling quite uncomfortable and out of sorts. Those feelings only intensified as she strode down the corridor where the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was located, supposing that Professor Knowles, who always stayed for holidays, would be there.

She paused at the open classroom door to catch her breath and collect herself before facing Knowles, whom she immediately noticed was seated at his desk, running his fingertips over pieces of parchment. There was a look of intense concentration on his face. For the first time she was uncertain as to whether this was a good idea or not. Dumbledore’s advice suddenly seemed rather sensible.

“Miss Howard, either come inside and state your business or go. I don’t like being watched,” said Knowles irritably.

“I’m sorry, professor,” she stammered, stepping into the classroom. How he knew it was her was a mystery to Sissy. She fancied that it was only a lucky guess.

He raised his head and looked annoyed as he took his hands from the parchment. “If you are hoping to turn in that assignment early, please refrain from doing so as I have not worked out a filing system yet,” he said.

“I’ve finished it, of course, but that isn’t why I’m here,” she said.

Her voice rose an octave, betraying her nervousness to the very perceptive professor. Knowles furrowed his brow and arranged the parchments in a systematic fashion before leaving his desk.

“Are you quite all right, Miss Howard?” he asked with a barely detectable note of concern in his voice. It was not wasted on Sissy.

“Never better, sir,” she responded glibly. “In fact I’ve been doing some very interesting research in the library that I would like to share with you,” she added, standing ramrod straight as she spoke and trying to gain confidence from that posture.

Knowles leaned against the front of his desk and gestured for her to continue, fascinated that she would choose to come to him, during the holidays no less, with research of some kind. The truth be known, he was not a patient man nor inclined to indulging the whims of others, but something about this struck his fancy. Perhaps because it was Miss Howard, his best student, who had come to him.

“Please, go on,” he said after a moment.

Summoning her nerve, which had always been considerable for a Ravenclaw, she said, “I trust you are aware that the vampire is a Legilimencer.”

“That fact was recently brought to my attention,” he acknowledged a bit stiffly, becoming perhaps more guarded in his own posture and expression.

“I believe that I know what happened, sir, when you were in the forest. It wasn’t the spiders, or at least I don’t think so. It was the vampire,” she told him.

He looked at her blankly and asked, “That caused my blindness, you mean?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“That is quite impossible as I failed to catch up with it in the forest that night. It managed to stay well ahead of me and hidden from sight. Therefore there are two problems with your argument. Firstly, I was not in close enough contact with it for it to perform Legilimency on me. Secondly, even the extreme use of the skill has not, to the best of my knowledge, been known to cause permanent blindness, only minor and very temporary injury. You are quite wrong, Miss Howard.” he explained very crisply.

“But the spiders could not have been the cause either. I researched ...”

“Miss Howard, I am certain that you did research the matter as it is not in your nature to produce wild and implausible theories; however, I was present during the actual incident, and I insist rather emphatically that the Acromantula can cause blindness if so inclined,” he interrupted.

Sissy frowned and said, “I do not feel that it is my place to dispute that ...”

“Good, because it isn’t!” snorted Knowles.

“But if the vampire had modified your memory to cover its tracks ...”

“Then it would still have needed some other method by which to render me blind. Legilimency alone would not suffice,” said Knowles loudly, losing his temper, which was not a frequent occurrence.

Sissy was quiet for a moment as her stomach knotted at the implication of his statement, which was too horrible to contemplate.

“I am sorry, sir, for disturbing you,” she said, clearing her throat and attempting to sound completely calm.

“Not at all. I’m sure you learned a lot through your exploration of this matter. About Acromantulas and whatnot,” he replied.

“I did,” she acknowledged. “It was very educational.”

“At least you aren’t wasting your holidays then,” he commented, moving slowly back to his seat behind the desk. “Good afternoon, Miss Howard,” he said, returning to his work.

She only stared at him for a moment, wondering if she should tell him that Dumbledore was going to be paying him a visit ... eventually, before shaking her head and departing. Some things were best left alone. Some people too, she supposed.

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