A Little Knowledge

Martin recuperated relatively quickly, though his memory of the events that had led to his experience with the Cruciatus Curse remained hazy. Madam Pomfrey, after a significant amount of research, decided that this was due to the traumatic nature of the incident and told Martin and his parents that it would in all likelihood pass with time. Martin hoped so as his roommates all wanted to hear his account of the fight with the vampire. He imagined, given what Sissy had told him, that they would not be impressed with his conduct, but, nevertheless, he did want to share it with them as they had all been quite supportive while he was recovering.

Two days after awakening in the hospital wing, Martin received an owl from Uncle Alastor informing him that he would not be able to visit him at the school, as had been his intention, because he didn’t believe he could manage the stairs as of yet, which was quite a blow to Martin as he had been looking forward to seeing his uncle, but would certainly spend time with him at the Dumbledore family home during the summer holidays. He had also informed Martin in the letter that he was proud of him and very pleased to know that he was truly safe now.

All in all life was looking up for Martin after he left the hospital wing and returned to classes. His dreams remained dark, but he no longer woke up screaming or in a cold sweat. He knew, after being shown the bottle of ashes, that the undead foe that had threatened him all term was gone at long last, and that was very comforting to him, almost as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Unfortunately, he also knew upon whose shoulders that weight now rested: Sophia’s.

Her spirits had not yet lifted as Professor Krohn still remained at St. Mungo’s Hospital in London. She had received some news about his condition from Madam Pomfrey and had shared it with her friends. The professor was still under constant care, though he was expected to live and to be able to return to the school eventually. Sophia wasn’t told any more than that, though she suspected that the school mediwitch was not being kept very well informed either. That did not sit well with her nor, Sophia imagined, with Madam Pomfrey herself.

A feeling of helplessness lingered several days after the event had passed. And with it there was also guilt. Before Madam Pomfrey had come for Krohn, Olivia had dashed off to find Martin and Sissy, but Sophia had elected to stay with her professor. She had many reasons for her actions: she was afraid the professor was going to die, her robes were badly singed, and she had a few mild burns that needed attending, not to mention her charred hair. The mediwitch had taken care of the minor burns and even her hair late that night.

But there was one problem with all of her excuses, one thing that kept bothering her. She had chosen Professor Krohn over Martin, simple as that, and it made her feel rotten. Twice she had refused to leave the professor. Of course, she had no way of knowing what was going to happen to Martin nor did she have any reason to believe she could have stopped it when Sissy could not do so and Olivia couldn’t even find them in time. And yet the uneasy, guilty feeling remained with Sophia even as she worried about her professor and Martin was on the mend.

Martin was aware that something was bothering Sophia, more than just her favorite professor being injured, quite some time before Olivia managed to take him aside to explain what it was exactly.

“She thinks she betrayed you by staying to help Professor Krohn,” Olivia told him bluntly.

“What?” he asked, blinking a bit stupidly. He thought at first that he had misunderstood her.

Olivia wished that he could remember things a bit more clearly. It was would be of some great help in awkward situations like this.

“When Krohn was hurt by the vampire, Sophia stayed with him,” Olivia explained very slowly, “even though Corinna and I, well, mostly me, wanted her to come with us to help you chase down the vampire. She refused to go ... but then, Krohn looked quite bad off. I mean, positively awful.”

“I think I understand,” said Martin uncomfortably. He saw just what she was getting at now.

“Do us all a favor and tell her that, would you?” asked Olivia, cracking a smile and giving him a dig in the ribs with her elbow.

He winced slightly and said, “Of course.”

Sophia, since Martin had returned to the Aerie, could usually be found one place: the library ... not that this was at all unusual for her. But normally she did not study alone at a table in the farthest corner of the room, more than half-hidden among the shelves. This was where Martin found her with an encyclopedic potion’s text on the table in front of her. As potions classes were temporarily being taught by his father, he couldn’t imagine that she was working on an assignment -- none had been given to any of the students in the lower years. He rather fancied that she was simply reading the tome to ‘keep up’ with the expectations of their more rigorous professor.

“May I join you?” he asked her quietly, so as not to startle her.

She looked up quickly from the book. There was a sad expression in her eyes. It had been there for sometime, so sad and serious. Martin missed the girl who had left the Aerie with Corinna all those afternoons ago. He could hardly believe that less than a full week had passed. It felt more like years.

“Please,” she said, gesturing to the other chair at the dusty, disused little table.

Martin took a seat and watched her as she looked down at her book again. He could tell that she wasn’t reading.

“You shouldn’t feel bad,” he said, causing her to look up again.

She narrowed her eyes slightly as she realized that he knew, which meant that someone, mostly likely Olivia or Corinna, had told him not only what had happened, which he a right to know, but how she felt about not doing her duty as his friend.

In reply to his statement she merely shrugged.

“No one ought to be alone when they’ve been hurt like that, not even a professor. It was right that you stayed with Krohn. You were supposed to do it, because no one else would have stayed,” he told her.

“But if I’d gone with Olivia...” she protested, sniffing slightly and looking away.

“I don’t think it would have changed anything,” said Martin, shaking his head. “In fact, I’m rather certain it wouldn’t have, at least not for the better,” he decided after a moment of thought.

He fished a hankie from his pocket, which he had brought along at the behest of Olivia, who had insisted that Sophia would need it.

“Thanks,” she whispered.

“You’re quite welcome,” he said with a lop-sided smile.

“It came back for us, you know, while you and Sissy were tracking it down,” she told him hesitantly. The girls were privy to this, but she had kept the details mostly to herself. They had not passed the knowledge along to Martin.

“Did you drive it off?” asked Martin with raised eyebrows. He could hardly imagine Sophia raising her wand against the vampire.

“No ... I’m no good that sort of thing. That’s best left to the two of you, I suppose,” she answered.

“To Sissy,” corrected Martin. “So what happened?” he questioned curiously.

Sophia made an unpleasant face and said, “It put a cage made of fire around us. I think the heat of it would have roasted us alive if Olivia hadn’t come back. I ... I was sure it was going to ... to finish Professor Krohn off ... just for spite.”

Martin was a bit confused. “What did it have against him?” he questioned with a puzzled look.

“It was the one who had killed his two brothers and his sister during the war. I was afraid it wanted to finish the job, that it wanted to kill him too, but ... it didn’t even seem to care,” she replied.

Martin let that sink in and shook his head. That vampire certainly had a lot of enemies. And it seemed that he had been at the top of its list.

“Look,” he said, taking a deep breath, “I’ll ask my father when he thinks Krohn will be back and I’ll let you know. Maybe I can find out something for you.”

“Thanks. I would appreciate that. It’s awful ... not knowing anything,” she said.

“I can imagine,” he said, nodding sympathetically. “I know curfew’s been lifted, but maybe we should go back to the Aerie. The others wanted to do a bit of studying for our Charms’ exams,” he told her, remembering that only a few short weeks remained before the end of term exams. The thought filled him with an odd sort of panic.

“Of course,” Sophia agreed, smiling at the expression on his face, which was quite priceless. “He’s already worried,” she thought, stifling a quiet giggle, but feeling much better than before.

Sophia was surprised the next day when after a grueling Transfigurations lesson Professor McGonagall stopped her from leaving. The others went ahead, surmising that it was either about her relatively shoddy performance in class -- due to her lingering preoccupation regarding her injured professor -- or about said professor. They, especially Martin, hoped it was the latter, but with stern and demanding McGonagall, one could never tell. Even Martin admitted this.

“Professor?” Sophia questioned as the professor reached into her desk and removed a scrap of parchment.

“My ... the headmaster wanted me to give this to you,” she said crisply, giving the note to Sophia.

Sophia took it and read it quickly:

“Miss Colville, around six o’clock this evening a certain professor will be arriving by portkey at the castle entrance. You have my permission to greet him. --Professor Dumbledore.”

“He’s coming back? So soon?” asked Sophia, looking up at Professor McGonagall, who had taken a seat at her desk and was beginning to mark assignments.

“Yes,” she replied.

“The hospital released him then? Madam Pomfrey told me just yesterday...”

“Released him? Gracious, no, more like he escaped and sent the headmaster a note from the first owl office he could find before arranging for a portkey. Or possibly the hospital notified Professor Dumbledore. But, no, Miss Colville, he most certainly was not officially discharged,” said Professor McGonagall, pinching the bridge of her nose unhappily.

“You mean he left the hospital without permission from the Healers?” asked Sophia. Her eyes widened at this.

“That is the general idea. I can’t imagine that they were sorry to see him go ... if they saw him go. Professor Krohn is very...” and she stopped there, seeming to reevaluate what she, a professor, was about to tell a student.

“Very?”

“Never mind. I’m sure you know quite well what I meant,” said McGonagall with a pronounced frown.

To be fair, Sophia new a good many words that her friends could have supplied: difficult, temperamental, brutish, mean, and scores of choice words from Sissy. She decided that Professor McGonagall mostly likely meant that he was difficult and agreed, at least privately, with that estimation of his disposition, though she hardly meant anything unkind by that honest judgment.

“He was your professor too, wasn’t he?” inquired Sophia.

“For two terms,” she nodded, smiling slightly, almost reluctantly, but smiling nonetheless.

“Before the war?”

Minerva frowned and said, “Before it was called a war, Miss Colville, but not before Grindelwald had gained substantial power ... and was doing terrible things in secret.”

Sophia wondered if her professor was already a refugee by then, but didn’t know quite how to phrase the question.

“When you go out this evening, do be careful. I’m sure Reynard will be fatigued and a bit snappish,” Minerva warned her in an almost off-handed fashion.

“Thank you,” said Sophia politely, although she suspected that he would be more than merely snappish if he had ‘escaped’ from the hospital and was forced to travel by portkey.

The others had offered to come and wait outside with Sophia that evening, which was windy, but rather warmer than average for nearly the middle of April, but Sophia, though grateful for their support, had politely declined. She could not imagine Professor Krohn wanting such a welcoming committee as they would make all together. As she made her way from the school to the entrance of the castle grounds, she speculated that he might not necessarily be pleased to see her there either.

The grounds were empty of students at that hour, but Sophia thought she heard Hagrid and Ogg somewhere not so far away, struggling with some manner of creature that had been brought in for the final weeks of Professor Kettleburn’s Care of Magical Creatures classes, which Sophia was looking forward to having next term.

Sophia was more than a few minutes early when she reach the entrance to the castle grounds. She had been anxious all afternoon, which probably contributed to her excessive punctuality, and she was rather excited too. Professor Krohn was returning, and when he did, this would all really be over for her. There would be nothing more to worry about in regards to the vampire. The matter would be finished. That thought made her smile as sat down to wait.

The wispy clouds overhead were beginning to glow a golden color and Sophia was starting to doze when she heard the sound of someone arriving by portkey. The tell-tale popping sound was followed by loud muttering, the contents of which, had they been in English, would have made her blush to her ears. She recognized the voice instantly and scrambled to her feet.

Professor Krohn was standing on the path just outside the gates, brushing dust from what appeared to be a tattered and stained MacIntosh that was concealing hospital robes. Sophia did not wish to presume that the coat was stolen, but such was the case. He certainly looked as though he had left St. Mungo’s in a bit of a rush. But what nearly made Sophia gasp was his hair. It had been shorn close to his scalp by the Healers. He very nearly looked like an entirely different man. She could see a thin scar above and just behind his left ear as he turned slightly, looking over his shoulder toward Hogsmeade behind him.

“Professor?” she called uncertainly.

He started and swayed on his feet. His complexion suddenly seemed quite pale to her.

“Miss Colville?” he responded in a strained and weary voice. “Should you be out here so late in the afternoon?” asked Krohn.

He began to pitch forward, but Sophia was there in a second, grabbing him around the midsection to hold him up.

“I’ve got you,” she assured him in a muffled voice.

“Better you than those devils at that madhouse,” he commented, trying to steady himself.

“You really ought to have stayed put, sir,” she admonished, gritting her teeth. He was quite heavy, and she was lucky to be able to support him at all.

“They were trying to give me wormwood ... even after I told them that I’ve developed an extreme tolerance for the substance. Incompetency run amok,” he told Sophia as she loosened her grip to see if he could stand on his own. As it turned out, he could just manage it, though he looked quite ill indeed. “At least here, I can decide what potions I need, or Poppy can, which is very nearly the same thing,” he said with a mildly grudging expression. Sophia imagined that Madam Pomfrey had been his student and perhaps a good one even by his standards.

“Then maybe we ought to go and see her,” she suggested tentatively.

“I had hoped to creep back into my dungeons unnoticed,” he said somewhat pointedly.

“I hate to disappoint you, professor, but I don’t believe the headmaster would have permitted that,” said Sophia. “Now am I going to see you to hospital wing or not?” she asked with all the forcefulness she could muster.

“You silly girl,” he muttered, though a half-tender smile tugged at his lips, “I suppose I should let you have your way. I received an owl from Professor Dumbledore detailing your ... your sense of duty, as it were, to me, though he said you were very loath to speak on the subject.”

He took a halting step forward that made Sophia wonder how he had made it through the streets of wizarding London, much less Muggle London, which was fraught with perils that no wizard should ever need face. She looked up at him, shook her head, and looped her arms around his waist.

“I’d rather you didn’t fall, professor,” she explained, brushing aside his comment about duty.

“Then that makes two of us,” he replied, accepting her assistance without further comment on the matter.

“I thought you were going to die,” she confessed quietly as they began trudging toward the castle.

“For a few moments, I thought so as well,” he told her somberly.

He smiled slightly as she tightened her grip. He knew of no way to tell her, given his already fragile emotional state, that he had been afraid for her too when he had heard her call out to him as he battled with the vampire. That was very nearly the last sound he had heard.

“But we both made it through,” he said, “though it was a near thing, they tell me.”

Sophia wondered just how much he had been told, but refused to pursue the matter. She knew that the professor was a believer in the power of knowledge, but she didn’t think he would profit very much by the gruesome details to which she was privy at that moment.

“And it’s over now,” she said.

“They tell me that Professor Knowles had a hand in defeating it,” he said uncertainly.

“That’s right,” she nodded.

“I bet he’s been unbearable, like an inverse Cheshire cat,” said Krohn.

“Sir?” she question with a confused look.

“All that one sees of him, I imagine, is a mysterious lack of a smile that lets one know how smug he must feel,” said Krohn. “Not that it would be undeserved, after what happened,” he added more judiciously.

“He’s been ... the same as ever,” shrugged Sophia, which put Krohn off balance just slightly.

“Precisely,” he said, wincing as he nearly stumbled. “Do be careful, Miss Colville. We’re almost there. It would be a pity to land in a heap now.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry; be careful,” he muttered as she helped him up the castle stairs.

From anyone else this might have seemed hurtful, but it made Sophia smile just a bit. It was proof that Krohn was quite himself, even if he looked otherwise and was still physically weak from his injuries. The part of him that she liked best, loosely defined as his personality, was seemingly untouched and unaltered by the experience.

“Duly noted,” she said, assisting him in navigating the steps.

“You wouldn’t reconsider our destination, would you?” he asked her as they entered the castle and he struggled for breath. “My body cries out for my warm hearth and soft bed in the dungeons. I would consider it a personal favor,” he added. This was as close as Krohn would ever come to begging.

“Madam Pomfrey has beds in the hospital wing,” said Sophia as she steered him toward the stairs that led in that direction.

“I wouldn’t describe them as soft,” he countered.

“Please, sir...”

“Very well,” he sighed quietly. “I’ve no choice in the matter. I don’t have the strength to move from this spot unaided.”

“It is for your own good,” she reassured him.

“Now you’re just being patronizing,” he said with a slightly raised eyebrow, “not that you don’t have a right be...”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she interrupted.

“Answer a question for me,” he said with a vaguely dismissive look. “Was anyone else harmed by the vampire before it was destroyed? I asked Dumbledore in my letter, but I never got a proper reply.”

“Martin,” she answered.

“Badly?” he questioned, taking a deep breath. There was worry in his eyes that he could in no way conceal.

“The Cruciatus Curse...”

“Is he ... all right?”

“He’s recovered faster than you have, sir,” she replied, suppressing a shrug as it would surely have sent them back down the stairs the hard way.

“But still...” said Krohn questioningly.

“It was very unpleasant for him, as you can well imagine,” she said tactfully.

“Yes,” he nodded with a pained expression, not wanting to tell her that he need not imagine to know what the curse could do, even to someone so young. The professor had lived through the days of Grindelwald’s regime, after all.

“He’s back in class and everything,” she assured him. “Martin is remarkably strong for his age,” she added.

“He gets that from his mother,” said Krohn absently. “No one else?” he asked.

Sophia felt uneasy as she told him, “No, luckily, no one else was harmed.”

She simply didn’t want to mention her burns as they were hardly serious enough to warrant his attention. Not quite the truth, but she was certain he was asking if anyone had been bitten and not about far lesser injuries.

He regarded her curiously and said, “Good. I would have been displeased if it had caused any of my students, especially any of my better students, any amount of discomfort or grief.”

“Other than seeing you hurt like that, you mean?” she replied only silently. That was hardly a sentiment to which she could easily give voice.

Krohn swayed slightly as they walked, causing Sophia to slow her steps even further so that they were moving through the curiously empty corridor at a crawl.

“Are you dizzy, sir?” she asked him.

“Light-headed. I haven’t eaten in ... about a day, I suppose,” he told her nonchalantly.

“No wonder you haven’t any strength left! You should know better ... not eating and in your condition too!” she admonished.

“I had an old maiden aunt who spoke just like that,” he told Sophia with a very slight sneer, although he was actually a bit touched by the rather motherly sentiment, however inappropriate it might have been for one of her years, not to mention for one of his students.

“Would that you’d listen to one of us, professor,” she countered.

He made an unpleasant sound, but no other reply as the doors of the hospital wing came into view.

Sophia furrowed her brow as the doors opened to admit them. Those doors didn’t do that for just anyone, and certainly not for Professor Krohn, whom she had seen kick them open at least once.

“Odd,” she thought to herself as she guided her professor to the nearest bed and helped him sit down.

“Reynard? What on earth!” exclaimed Poppy Pomfrey from across the wing where she had been restocking a shelf of commonly used potions.

“Am I doing here, you ask? I live here,” he answered in a glib tone as the mediwitch hitched up her robes to run the width of the room.

“St. Mungo’s sent an owl three hours ago saying that you had gone missing! Missing, Reynard! For the love of Merlin!”

“Only three hours? I escaped that repository for incompetents last evening just after seven o’clock,” he snorted.

“The headmaster...”

“...knew I had gone and sent Miss Colville to meet me at the castle gates,” he interrupted with a singular expression of amusement, and irritation, on his very pale face.

Pomfrey glanced at Sophia, who was watching the exchange with great interest, and said, “Then she can help you out of that filthy coat while I fetch a restorative for you. You look to be in need of one.”

Sophia dutifully reached for the top button of the Mac only to be swatted away.

“I can’t take it off with her -- a second-year student -- here! They gave me a hospital robes that lace up the back ... possibly because they suspected that I would make a run for it. I’m sure you see where I’m going with this, Poppy,” he said.

The mediwitch, who seldom had patients tell her such things, flushed slightly and said, “Yes, quite. Can you manage to change into a proper hospital robe in the back then?”

Krohn eyed the distance and said, “Poppy, I was certain that I was going to collapse long before I reached here. I would probably be lying face down in the dirt outside without Miss Colville. Can’t you give a man a break?”

“What do you suggest then, Reynard?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Cast a cleaning spell on the coat if it offends you so much and just let me rest for a while. I will change when I’m rested.”

Madam Pomfrey eyed the MacIntosh for a moment before taking out her wand and doing as he had recommended. The old garment was still rather offensive, but it was no longer, in her opinion, completely unsanitary.

Sophia wondered why they had not simply ordered her to leave. That would have been a far simpler solution.

“Now, I’ll fetch that draft,” said Poppy.

Krohn raised an eyebrow, which caused the young mediwitch to blush again before she hurried away.

“I think I’ll be staying the night here,” commented Krohn with a mildly petulant expression. “I’d rather sleep in my own bed ... in my own clothes, but ... I’m finished. This is as far as my legs will consent to carry me,” he told Sophia.

She helped him into a reclining position in bed and propped him up with pillows, trying to make him more comfortable than he appeared. He looked grateful as she did so.

“You’ve done well to come so far,” she said. “I don’t think I could have managed it.”

“Rubbish,” he muttered as she grabbed a blanket from the nearest shelf and began draping it around him. “You would have been here yesterday,” he told her as she finished tucking him in.

Sitting down next to him, she shrugged and said, “That is, of course, your opinion, professor.”

“Isn’t it about time for you to return to your dormitory? I wouldn’t want you to lose house points for helping a temperamental old wizard...”

“Curfew isn’t until eight o’clock now,” she interjected.

“I bet the Gryffindors are running amok.”

“Nobody goes out after dark, not even to the kitchens, or so I’ve heard. They’re still too afraid,” she told him.

“Impossible. Students? Learning caution?” he snorted in disbelief.

“Apparently so,” she nodded.

She would have commented further but for the sound of Madam Pomfrey returning with a potion for Krohn. It was a sour smelling green concoction that was bubbling in the glass.

“Poppy...” he said in a warning tone as she thrust the glass toward him.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s the best thing for exhaustion and injuries like yours. You’re lucky I had some on hand,” said the mediwitch.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. I brewed it for you last month, you silly wench,” he said, taking the glass and holding it at arms length. There was a disgusted look on his face. “Laws, sausages, and healing potions...” he muttered darkly, realizing that he had no choice but to drink it as Poppy would certainly have forced him otherwise. And she would have had Miss Colville’s help.

“Professor?” questioned Sophia. She couldn’t help but not notice that his hand was shaking with fatigue.

“Three things you don’t want to know what they put into them,” he replied before wrinkling his nose and drinking the potion in one long draught.

“Oh, don’t fuss, Reynard. It can’t be that bad,” she said, taking the empty vessel from him as he pulled a face.

“Have you ever taken it?”

“No, actually,” she replied, “but no one else complains like you do...”

“Then they haven’t any sense,” he countered. Krohn wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glared.

Poppy just looked down her nose at him and strode away.

“Was it really that bad?” asked Sophia, adjusting the blanket and tucking him in again.

“There’s bile from a hyppogryff in that,” he answered. Sophia made a face. “My point exactly. It was meant to be used on students, not professors.” She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. She liked to think that he was as there was just a bit of a gleam in his eyes.

“Maybe it will make you feel better,” she said.

“I suppose it will,” he said grudgingly.

Sophia smiled as she noticed his heavy eyelids began to droop. She knew that he was very tired and needed his rest.

“How long until he recuperates?” she wondered. The most Ravenclaw part of her hoped that it was before the potions’ exam.

“Run along, would you?” he said tiredly. “That impertinent girl added a sleeping draught to the restorative. I shall have to give her a piece of my mind ... in the morning,” he yawned.

Sophia stood up and said, “I’m glad you’re back, professor.”

“Mmm... so am I,” he mumbled.

She cautiously slipped the pillows from behind him to make him more comfortable. He muttered something quite incomprehensible that made Sophia giggle.

“I believe he just told you good-night, if you were wondering,” said a voice from the end of the bed.

Sophia started and turned to find the headmaster standing there and watching her with a slight smile.

“Professor...” she stammered. She had not heard him enter the ward. In fact, she had not noticed his presence at all. How on earth did he manage that? Even for a wizard of his skill, that was just uncanny.

“Did I startle you, Miss Colville?”

“A bit,” she admitted with a slight blush.

“Thank you very much for looking after Professor Krohn. I must admit that he surprised everyone, leaving St. Mungo’s like that,” said Dumbledore, “but then, he has always been full of surprises.”

With that afterthought, he looked over his spectacles at Sophia. Not least of these surprises, in his opinion, was the professor’s friendship with Sophia, a student from outside his own house.

“If I may ask, sir,” hesitated Sophia, “why didn’t you meet Professor Krohn this evening?”

“Of course you may ask,” said Dumbledore. “I thought he would prove too intractable for any of his colleagues, myself included, to deal with. You obviously had some luck with him.”

“He’s not as bad as people say,” she defended quietly.

“Indeed not,” the headmaster agreed with a soft chuckle.

Sophia looked down at Krohn again, noticing the scar just above his ear left by his encounter with the vampire. She imagined that his hair would cover it in a few weeks, but he would always have it as a grim reminder of what had happened, a last souvenir from the man who had destroyed his family and left him alone in the world. Then she remembered hearing something about the vampire’s ashes ... so maybe not the last souvenir, but certainly a more permanent one.

“He’ll carry that for the rest of his days, but many who have risked facing a vampire have come off worse,” said Dumbledore.

“I know,” she said, thinking of Alastor Moody and Professor Knowles and, to some degree, Martin.

“You should return to your common room, Miss Colville. Professor Krohn needs his rest, and I imagine that you have studying to do in preparation for the end of the term,” he told her. “My wife has been working on the second year examination for nearly a week now. I believe it will more challenging than any exam I ever gave your year,” he added.

Sophia’s eyes widened and she stammered, “Then ... then we’ll all have to work extra hard to prepare for it.”

“Good night then, Miss Colville,” he said with a muted chuckle as he watched her leave. Turning to where his young colleague lay sleeping, he said, “Quite a friend you have there, Reynard.”

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