A Little Knowledge

When Cyrus Knowles had begun his teaching career following the war against Grindelwald, it was with great reluctance. But he knew that he couldn’t hide, as he sometimes characterized his sabbatical and recuperatory period, from the wizarding world forever, and the opportunity to teach at Hogwarts had seemed like a good one, though he had not been, nor would he ever be, especially fond of adolescents and teenagers. More than that, he had worried that he would not be able to teach them anything of lasting value and that his students would not share his passion for Defense Against the Dark Arts, which had remained with him since his youth and even through the horrors of war. Knowles, given his experience and expertise, need not have concerned himself with the former, but the latter, the lack of passion that he had initially feared, too often proved true. Then there was Miss Howard.

Professor Knowles sighed as he heard the door to his classroom open to admit the student in question, the only one ever to share his keen interest in defense, or to express such an interest openly. The students would be leaving in only two weeks, after their tests and so forth, but he wanted an opportunity to speak to Miss Howard before she became too engrossed in studying and before she left Hogwarts for the summer. After everything that they had been through that term, he felt that he owed her that much.

And they had hardly spoken except in class since the vampire had been defeated. He had remained aloof, for the most part, because he did not know what to say to his young student of whom he was extremely proud. He felt a twinge of guilt that he had allowed her to share the credit for her deed of valor and cunning with him when it had been her courage and quick thinking that had saved them all. He had been but a minor instrument in the whole affair. But he knew that she shared the glory willingly and would have been hurt had he refused what she offered him. She was young, he understood, and desperate for approval, for anyone’s, he well imagined, but especially for his.

“I wonder if she still wants to follow in my footsteps after all of this,” he thought with a bitter sigh.

“You sent for me, professor?” asked a familiar voice from the other side of his desk. Her tone was as calm and neutral as ever, schooled into vague indifference that was neither unkind nor dull.

“Mister Dumbledore must have delivered my note in a timely fashion,” Knowles commented, leaving his desk and walking around it to be nearer to where Miss Howard stood.

A gentle hand on his arm let him know just where she was. He smiled softly and wondered when, and more importantly why, he had stopped chiding her for such foolish displays.

“He did,” she replied coolly.

“You’ll be leaving soon for the summer, and I thought I should speak with you before you go. I want you to know that what you did ... how you destroyed the vampire ... was one of the single most clever and inventive things I’ve ever heard of. I’m sure you’ve heard that from Professor Flitwick and the headmaster, but I thought you should hear from me as well. It was a brilliant tactical maneuver,” he told her.

He could not see her blush or smile, though she did both.

“It was foolish. I wasn’t even certain that it would work. More luck than any skill on my part,” she said. Her tone was a more somber one than he had expected.

“But it did work,” he pointed out, “and in the end, that’s what matters, Miss Howard.”

“Professor, that is a very Gryffindor sentiment: to act first, think later. We Ravenclaws don’t usually do such things, when we can help it.”

“And again, I tell you, that it worked to our advantage,” he said with a very pointed, yet unsmiling expression.

“As you say, professor,” she relented.

At this he did smile slightly. Miss Howard could usually be counted on to hold her ground more firmly in an argument. Sometimes she seemed even downright stubborn. But perhaps this time he had changed her mind. He rather hoped so.

“Have you any plans for the summer?” he questioned.

“I am going home, of course, but ... I don’t have any better plans than that yet. I might see a Quidditch match or go to London,” she replied with a shrug. “And you, professor?”

“I might return to my family’s home in the country for a few weeks,” said Knowles, “although I suspect I’ll need something of an escort. Professor Krohn needs to get out of the castle. Perhaps I’ll drag him along with me.”

“But you will be returning in time for the start of term?” she questioned.

“Only naturally, Miss Howard,” he answer with a wry look. “After this term, I imagine that I could handle any manner of difficulty that might come my way.”

He wasn’t very keen on telling her that he had grown too accustomed to the castle, to his life there, and to those he named friend to leave any of them. He most certainly wasn’t going to let anyone know that. Not her and not Reynard.

“And should you need any...”

“Sentimentality? I’ll know where to find it,” he said more sharply than he intended. Her hand instantly left his arm.

“My apologies,” she said in a cool voice.

“No, mine, Miss Howard,” he said, mentally kicking and berating himself. “You know that I am...”

“Very independent, sir. Yes, I am aware of that. I just ... I just wanted ... you to know...” she said, seeking the proper words, the words that he would approve of.

“Of course, and if I do need any assistance, Miss Howard, you will be among the very first to know.” His tone was slightly clipped, though he wished it otherwise.

“If I may be so bold...”

“Please.”

“You have handled your situation extremely well.”

“Thank you. Sometimes ... I feel that others would perform better than this in these circumstances,” he answered honestly.

“Hardly,” she scoffed.

Knowles smiled again and said, “You do me more courtesy than I deserve.”

She was silent, though he could not fathom why she made no quick reply as she was wont. He heard her sigh softly and imagined that she shook her head. He frowned just slightly.

“Would you answer a question for me something, sir? It’s a very sentimental thing, you understand, but...” she said in a doubtful voice.

Knowles reached toward her, and she permitted him to place a hand on her shoulder.

“For the witch who has vanquished a vampire and defended my honor and person countless times this year, I would answer anything, no matter how sentimental,” he said with a serious look on his face.

“Is it better for you now, sir? Now that the vampire has been defeated?” asked Sissy.

Knowles furrowed his brow as he considered the inquiry. It was one not nearly so sentimental nor emotional as he had expected given her carefully prefacing of the matter. But it was something he had in recent weeks asked himself often enough.

“You want to know if the revenge was sweet,” he said.

“I suppose,” she nodded, causing her shoulder to move slightly.

“I don’t know. I’m more than glad the thing is dead, of course, but not so much for my sake, if you can understand that. I profited very little in the affair, at least in the manner that you mean. But...” he said, hesitating, “I sometimes feel more at peace and ... less wronged, knowing now that the matter is closed and that it cannot harm anyone else. That, I believe, is a far more satisfactory feeling that one of mere revenge.”

“I think I understand,” said Sissy in a thoughtful voice.

“Then you are many years ahead of some who are far older than you, Miss Howard,” commented Knowles with a chuckle, thinking of his colleague who had inherited the ashes of the vampire. “Have you any other questions for me this afternoon?” he asked.

“No, professor,” she replied.

“Then I imagine, given that exams are next week, we both have much to do. I wish you well this summer. Do be careful should you venture to do anything more exciting than spectate at a Quidditch match,” he said.

“And you as well, sir,” she said in an amused tone.

Releasing her shoulder, he started to wish her a good afternoon when two thin arms suddenly latched around his shoulders, catching him quiet off-guard. Knowles smiled slightly as he realized that Miss Howard was hugging him.

“Quite inappropriate,” he mumbled, gingerly placing an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, though she hardly sounded as though she meant it.

“Off with you then,” Knowles ordered her as she let go.

There was a smile in her voice, something he seldom heard, as she bade him farewell and left the classroom.


That same afternoon found Martin walking from the library back to the Aerie with a book on plant transfigurations and a rudimentary guide to charms recommended by Olivia, who had used it as a study guide during her own first year. He was feeling quite anxious about the upcoming end of term exams, although he rather fancied that he wasn’t as nervous as the girls seemed, especially Corinna regarding Potions and Sissy about Herbology. Martin had never experienced such academic pressure before, not even from his tutors, but he didn’t think it was as serious or nerve-wracking as worrying about the vampire had been. He didn’t think anything would quite compare to those months, which were mostly behind him now.

He was still having nightmares, and Martin imagined that he always would. The price was a small one, he decided. His friends were safe. His parents and professors were safe. He was safe. If dark images haunted his dreams, then it was unfortunate and nothing more. His mother had assured him that the nightmares would go away in time, but he wasn’t sure if he believed that. If fact, he didn’t really, but as he was no longer causing his roommates concern, he didn’t think it mattered very much.

“Oy, Dumbledore!” someone called down the corridor after him.

Martin turned to see Arthur Weasley dashing toward him.

“Yes?” he asked, shifting his books to his other arm as they were very heavy.

“I’ve been trying to catch up to you for more than a week,” said Weasley breathlessly. “Molly too, but she’s at practice right now,” he added.

“Right before end of term exams? Is she mad?” he thought incredulously, but he only asked, “What for?”

“To shake your hand. It took real nerve to face that vampire,” said Weasley, holding out his hand to the younger student.

Martin took it and nearly winced at the Gryffindors grip.

“Thanks, Weasley, but I didn’t defeat it. Professor Knowles and Sissy...”

“So I’ve heard,” he interrupted, “but we still reckon you’re pretty brave, for a Ravenclaw. You must make your parents very proud.”

Martin flushed slightly at that observation, but answered, “Er ... I try.”

“You’ve done well this year by our estimation, especially if what they say is true, about it being after you and all,” said Arthur with a mildly apprehensive look coming to his eyes for a moment.

“I’ve had a lot of help,” said Martin seriously.

“Well ... nobody does anything truly great alone. Of course, I imagine you hear that often enough from your father and your mum,” he said with an easy smile.

Martin furrowed his brow, trying to place that bit of advice. It did seem like something his father would say, although he was quick to realize that his father had defeated Grindelwald alone, so ... maybe that wasn’t so true. But then, it had taken both Sissy and Knowles to defeat Somerville.

“Anyhow, Dumbledore, next term ought to be a breeze after this. Enjoy your summer anyway, ‘cause you never know,” Arthur told him, nodding thoughtfully.

“Right,” said Martin in quick agreement.

“I reckon you’re off to study. I won’t keep you,” said Weasley, eyeing the books Martin was carrying.


The next afternoon Corinna found herself looking out over the grounds from the window in the Divinations’ Tower. Spring had come, and summer would soon arrive, though she would not be at Hogwarts to enjoy it. Not that she didn’t want to go home, but it seemed strange to her now, after going through so much, that she would be separated from her friends and her professors for more than a few weeks and from the school itself too. She sighed softly.

“My dear, you don’t look half so happy as you should,” said Professor Mallaghan as he served their tea.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking ... about going home and everything,” she said, managing a smile.

“I see,” Joseph nodded thoughtfully. “Sort of a reverse homesickness,” he observed, taking a sip of his tea.

“Yes,” Corinna chuckled.

“I felt much the same thing when I would return to Ireland for the summer. The journey was long and things were harder there ... But you should be happier, as I’ve said before,” he told her.

“I’ll try to be.”

“Then that’s all I can ask of you,” he said quietly, watching as she turned her attention to back to the window.

She was quieter now, more thoughtful, possibly even more mature, Joseph observed. Miss Bellew had grown up quite a bit over the course of the term. He smiled to himself, momentarily glad that he had had the opportunity to see it. She was going to be quite a witch someday and quite a Seer.

“Has your talent begun to manifest itself again?” he questioned.

“For nearly the first time since all of this started ... I know nothing,” she said with a shy and slightly sheepish smile, “absolutely nothing.” She seemed very pleased about this turn of events.

“It will come back,” said Joseph, patting her knee and wondering if his words were a reassurance or a threat to her.

“Maybe ... but I hope it won’t be for a while. I like being the same as everyone else for a change,” she admitted, turning back to him and drinking her tea. “It’s nice to be a normal witch, like my friends, even if only for a little while,” Corinna confessed.

“I can certainly understand that,” Mallaghan nodded, “but having a special talent like yours doesn’t make you abnormal.”

“Then I suppose it only makes me feel that way,” she countered with a small sigh. There was a pensive expression on her face.

“Still thinking about that evening?” he asked her, knowing quite well that she was. He knew that look after so many weeks.

“If I had only had a clearer picture of what was going to happen, then maybe I could have saved Martin and Professor Krohn some trouble,” said Corinna, shaking her head in frustration.

Everything had happened so fast. The changing images of what was to come only ceased to change moments before the events they predicted began spinning out of control. There had been so little time ... so little that she could do for anyone.

“But no one was killed nor permanently harmed, thanks in part to you. Isn’t that enough?” he asked her patiently.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

“Miss Bellew, it pains me to think that you’ll go off to your well deserved summer holidays still thinking on this matter,” he said with a sigh. “You did more than should ever be expected of one of your tenders years, talent or no, and you did very well. Any self-recrimination on your part is mere foolishness,” said the professor.

Corinna smiled ever-so-slightly at this. She was touched by the faith Professor Mallaghan had in her.

“All right,” she nodded.

“Then I’ll send you on your way with these parting words. When your talent comes back, owl me straight away. I’ve nothing with which to occupy myself over the summer, so I won’t mind. You don’t have to tell me everything; as always, that’s your business, but I would like to know how you’re progressing,” he told her rather seriously.

“And I’ll be sure to read those books you’ve loaned to me,” she interjected.

“Given, Miss Bellew. I don’t need those sorts of things anymore. They’re yours now,” he said.

“Thank you, professor.”

The books were chiefly on prophesies, visions, and related phenomena. Corinna was already finding them quite instructional.

“No need, my dear,” he said. “Now, off to your studies before your friends worry.”


Olivia knew that the lights would be dimming soon in the common room, but she wanted to lounge on the couch near the hearth for a while longer, reading her defense text, which was woefully dull in her opinion, before she joined the others in the dormitory for a refresher in Transfigurations. The exam for that class would be the next day and supposedly very difficult.

“Counting the minutes?” asked someone from just behind her.

Olivia startled and looked over her shoulder to see fourth year Edgar Bonham, the reserve Beater for the house Quidditch team, standing there with an amused half-smile. He had a satchel that was nearly over flowing with books and parchments.

“What?” she asked with a quizzical look.

“Until the lights go down and Professor Flitwick tacitly tells us to go to bed,” said Bonham as Olivia sat up and made room for him on the couch.

“I suppose I am,” she admitted.

“Madam Pince just shooed me out of the library,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“I see...” Olivia chuckled.

“I suppose I’ll be studying with my mates now,” said Bonham, nodding toward the stairs leading to the fourth year boys’ dormitory.

“Me too,” she said.

“Studious lot, aren’t we?” laughed Bonham.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Olivia replied, giving him a slight dig with her elbow.

“It’s going to be great having you on the team next term,” he commented with a roguish look, giving Olivia a bit of a playful shove. “Savage and Cole have had their day. Next year, it’ll be our turn.”

Olivia grinned and said, “So long as I make the team.”

“Not afraid of a little try-out, are you?” he teased.

“Not one ruddy bit!” she shot back with a gleam in her eyes. “I’m looking forward to it, actually, and I’m hoping for some good competition.”

“As though you have something to prove! You’ve been fantastic in practice,” he said, making Olivia blush with pride. Edgar had been on the reserves since his second year, so he would know about these things.

“Thanks. You’ve been great too,” she said.

“Go on!” he scoffed with a slight smirk.

“You have! I’ve learned a lot from you,” Olivia told him insistently.

“I’m flattered,” laughed Bonham before becoming slight more serious, “but we’ll have our work cut out for us next year, what with all the new players we’ll be taking on. I mean, losing David was a blow this year, but next...”

“Four players,” nodded Olivia, understanding the matter completely. She rested her chin on her hands and sighed. How long would it be before Ravenclaw had another real shot at the Cup?

“Four excellent players,” Edgar corrected.

“Right...” she acknowledged.

“Of course we’ve some good prospects,” he said, brightening slightly. “Li Chang from your year has already let Ambrose know that he wants a shot at a Chaser position. We’ve an opening on the reserve, and it’ll be nice to have that filled once Marcus Gosset moves up,” he said, naming the current reserve Chaser.

“But what about a Seeker?” asked Olivia. That was her biggest concern. Without a good Seeker, a team hardly had a prayer.

“We’re working on that,” said Bonham, who was rather friendly with the team captain and the other older students on the team.

“Prospects?” asked Olivia.

“There’s Graves ... She might do in a pinch. Woodward and Halliday both look the part, I suppose, and they’ll be second years next term, which could be an advantage as we’d get six good years out of them, if they were of any merit. Of course, people always come out of the woodwork for try-outs...” he shrugged.

Olivia wrinkled her nose slightly at the names, but tried not to say anything disparaging, such as asking how they’d get shy Graves onto a broom in front of a crowd or pry Julius Caesar out of Julian’s hands long enough for a match or separate Halliday from his friends Middleton and Wainwright.

“And, well, Ambrose has had a look at Dumbledore on a broom...” said Bonham idly.

“Martin? You must be joking! He’s had such a rough time of it this year. It wouldn’t be fair, and everyone knows that there’s Beaters’ blood in his family. He’s not even close to being the type to play Seeker,” Olivia objected, but thinking at the same time how much fun it would be to have two of her friends on the team.

“He has the summer to recover. You might even suggest that he get in a little practice,” hinted Bonham with a calculating look. “We haven’t that many choices, you know, and we can’t play without a Seeker.”

“Of course not. I guess we’ve no choice... We need the best people to choose from in the try-outs, and Martin would try very hard,” she said with a somber expression.

“That’s settled then,” said Bonham. “Once Ambrose gets the team together next year, we might have a fighting chance at the Cup.”

Olivia smiled slightly and said, “There’s always a chance, isn’t there?”

---