A Little Knowledge: Missing Scenes

“Is Dumbledore forcing you to do this, Cyrus?” asked Krohn as watched his friend’s hand hover over a piece on the Muggle chess board. Reynard had not said so, but he found the game rather boring and a trifle sluggish, compared to proper wizard’s chess, that is. But Knowles had insisted that they use his set, for whatever reason.

“Forcing me? No, he isn’t forcing me,” replied Knowles in a slightly clipped tone as he furrowed his brow in concentration. His fingertips brushed his bishop.

“Then why are you doing it?” asked Reynard.

“I want to know what happened. I want to get rid of the memories that I have that apparently aren’t true, that are just a fiction created by that creature for its own purposes,” said Cyrus as he moved his piece. “Is it so difficult to understand as all that?” he asked, sitting back in his chair.

“But isn’t it enough to know that it isn’t the truth? You know which memories are false ...” Reynard contended, looking at his friend across the board.

Cyrus sighed and said, “I just want the Memory Charm broken, Reynard. I don’t want to feel ... feel like I have an unwanted enchantment on my person.” He shifted in his seat and toyed with the hem of his jumper, rolling the strands of wool between his fingertips. “Ever had one done on you?” he questioned.

“A Memory Charm? I, well, n-not that I’m aware of,” Krohn responded with a vague stammer. He glanced at the chess board and almost haphazardly moved a piece. He heart just wasn’t in the game anymore.

“Then I suppose you really can’t understand why I must have it removed, no matter what the cost,” he said with a faint sneer.

“You’re right there,” Reynard agreed with a nod. He watched Cyrus as his hand ghosted over the board, seeking out one of his pieces, trying to visualize the board through memory without really being able to see it. “Do you want me to be there with you when he does it?” Krohn questioned hesitantly.

“No,” Cyrus answered quite succinctly as he found one of his pawns and carefully slid it forward. “I don’t think you should be. I’m having a student there, and it just wouldn’t suit.”

“Howard?”

“She needs to know something of magic of this sort. Dumbledore agrees. It will be a good lesson for her, especially should it go ill,” said Knowles placidly.

Reynard gasped softly in disbelief at those matter-of-fact words, and the sound did not escape the attention of his companion, whose expression softened for just an instant, but no longer.

“Don’t make a fuss about this, Reynard,” he warned sternly. “It would be quite foolish of you.”

“You know that I don’t understand things such as this. Not like you do, anyway. Tell me, Cyrus, just how wrong could this procedure go?” asked Krohn, ignoring his friend’s warning.

“I’ve heard stories of madness,” said Knowles, “but those are, of course, only stories. Suffice it to say, that having the charm removed will be unpleasant, uncomfortable, and probably nothing more.”

“But, Cyrus ... Madness?”

“Stories,” he insisted before gesturing to the chessboard. “It is still your move, Reynard, unless you are forfeiting already.”

Reynard moved another piece with hardly a thought and said, “Please let me go with you.”

“No, I’ve already made up my mind. Only Dumbledore and Miss Howard. I don’t want you to see this. That is my final word on the matter,” said Cyrus stubbornly.

“May I see you afterward?” Reynard asked after a pause.

At first he believed that Cyrus had ignored his request as the defense professor sought a particular piece on the board for some moments. Then Knowles nodded his assent.

“You may wait for me here. I don’t intend to spend the night in the hospital wing. I should not require it. I shouldn’t need coddling of any sort, but I’m sure you will be interested to hear what the vampire has covered up with his charm,” said Cyrus with an inscrutable, difficult to read expression.

He may very well need a bit of ‘coddling’ after this, Reynard realized. He watched Cyrus calmly move the same bishop back a few squares. “Afterward then,” he agreed, trying to sound less anxious and more indifferent.

After he was able to return his attention to the game, Krohn made comparatively quick work of his colleague, though he admired Knowles’ determination and sportsmanship.

“Good game, as always, Reynard,” said Cyrus as he rose from his seat. “We should do this again ... soon,” he told him before locating his cane.

Reynard, moving to stand with him, said, “Of course. I would enjoy that very much.”

Cyrus shifted the cane from one hand to the other. A pensive expression came to his face. Instinctively, Reynard reached for his upper arm and gave it a squeeze, wondering what was the matter with Knowles.

“Cyrus?”

“Funny that I wasn’t the one to realize that it had done this to me,” said Cyrus with a slight shrug. Reynard took it as a signal to withdraw his hand and did so. “Objectivity perhaps?” he mused.

“I didn’t realize either,” Reynard reminded him. “But perhaps it also requires a mind for the subject if what I hear about Howard is true.”

“It is,” Cyrus agreed.

“When will you have the spell removed?”

“Soon. The night before Christmas, if you must know.”

“Cyrus ...” began Krohn with a note of astonishment in his voice.

“What is it, Reynard? I don’t care one whit if it doesn’t seem appropriate to you or disagrees with your sensibilities,” Cyrus snapped unexpectedly. “Just consider it an early present, if you must.”

“It isn’t that,” said Reynard, groping for the appropriate words. “I ... It just makes me feel sad. That’s all.”

Cyrus snorted and reached toward him, managing to grasp his shoulder before telling him, “Oh, don’t be sad, Reynard. It doesn’t suit you.” There was no small amount of irony in his words.

Clasping his hand over his colleague’s, he told him, “All right. Never mind what night it is. I’ll be waiting for you ... right here ... when it’s all over ... just the same.”

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