The Rules of Science

"According to Le Chatelier's Principle, a 'stress' on a system in equilibrium will cause a shift to a new equilibrium so as to relieve the stress."

-from Chemistry Concepts and Problems

~

It is my worst morning yet.

I wake up early to finish the homework I had been too tired and too brain-fried to finish after getting back from my meeting with the Headmaster and Professor Snape. I had had a restless sleep the night before, and my head was too full of thoughts to let me sleep. This does not help me concentrate on the homework.

I shower after my lame attempt at academia, my mind floating back to what Professor Snape had said to me after the meeting, before I went into my room

"Madeline," he says quietly, using my given name for the first time, "this is not how your mother intended it to turn out."

I shake my head. Like I hadn't known that already.

"What do you think I should do?"

"It is of little consequence to me. In two and half months I will have no say over what you do; I haven't had any say over you the last seventeen years. What you do with your life is your decision."

I stare derisively at whatever is in front of me.

"Since you're my guardian, can I be rather honest with you?"

"At your own risk. You are still also a student."

"You royally suck at being a guardian."

Before he can slap me with a detention or berate me, I storm through the door behind the tapestry. No doubt he is already thinking of ways to punish me in Potions.

I blink my eyes and realize that I am still standing in the shower with the water running. I often go so deeply into my remembering that sight and sound become totally blocked out. I guess now I know why, I think sardonically. If what they say is right. If I am really the next Remembrancer. They don't seem to doubt that I am, and for some reason neither do I.

I finally move out of the shower and towel myself off. Judith talks to me the whole time I'm dressing; pleasant, aimless chatter that's about nothing in particular. She's not being nosy, for once, about my silence or late-night outing. Maybe she's heard something through other portraits, assuming the snoring I had heard the other night in the Headmaster's office didn't come from Snape.

I grab toast from the breakfast tray on my bed and set off on my own this morning, my first jaunt about the school without someone escorting me. My orientation last night had focused on getting to my Monday, Wednesday, and Friday classes. History of Magic would be easy to find. I'm not sure if I am ready to go by myself to Charms since it involves crossing the courtyard, but Ancient Runes should be easy enough find afterwards.

I barely pay attention in any of my classes, and for once, don't feel a bit guilty about it. My brain is too consumed with the problem at hand. During History of Magic, I make a mental list of pros and cons for each decision. During Charms, I concentrate steadily during the first ten minutes of class to conjure up a chair. I actually manage to succeed and earn my points for the day, spending the remainder of class sitting in my chair (a comfortable stool with a lumbar, the kind you find in labs) brooding over all the possible scenarios for my life. In Advanced Ancient Runes I am too scatterbrained from see-sawing back and forth about my decision and thinking about my run-in with Jude to concentrate, earning a serious talking-to after class as well as extra homework.

Was I convincing enough? Will he come find me later? Did I make him suspicious? Will this bite me in the ass later, if I chose to work under You-Know-Who?

I replay the scene over and over in my head, trying to work out any hidden meanings, trying to find traces of a Death Eater in him. If only evil wore its heart on its sleeve.

"What's the hurry, Madeline?" he asks, grabbing me by the arm.

Surprised at meeting him, I quickly gather my thoughts together. I had to lie really well this time. Convincing, Maddy, I coach myself mentally, A convincing lie.

"Oh, hey, Jude. Jason just told me that my Charms essay is due today. And I had Charms an hour ago. Need to go work on it." I say it all rather quickly with a nervous kind of smile on my face, which I hope he'll equate to a late Charms essay rather than anything suspicious being afoot. "Did you need something?" I add, trying not to get away too quickly. My toe twitches inside my shoe, however, as I mentally will him to speed up his answer and make it one I can handle.

"I just thought you might like to sit at a different table today for lunch. Talk of something other than grades, and classes, and whatever other mundane topics the Ravenclaw's obsess over."

The corner of my mouth twists up slightly at his description of my lunchmates. I shake my head, "Sorry, Jude. I just finished. Maybe another time. Guess I'd better go finish that essay." I turn away, thankful to be making my getaway.

Jude's voice stops me before I've gone two steps. "So you're a Ravenclaw now, Madeline?"

I turn around slowly, trying to buy time for a clever answer. I make sure to keep my voice even as I reply, "I already told you I don't belong to any House. Maybe you should work on keeping your facts straight while I work on my essay. Bye, Jude."

I turn around and walk away a bit too quickly than our conversation merited, but I can't keep my feet under control. I hope I didn't screw up.

"Goodbye, Madeline," I hear him say distantly.

Once I am safely down at the bottom of the stairs, I allow myself a shiver. Getting away was too easy. No doubt he suspects something, but what the hell. If I choose to live as a hermit, I wouldn't be seeing him ever again. If not...then I'd deal with it as it comes. I'd never done anything different.

When I come back to my room at the end of classes that day, I immediately sit down and start on my homework. It gives my hands something to do and allows my mind to find something logical and familiar to grasp on to while the rest of me fights chaos. I don't say a word; not even responding to Judith's toned-down but cheerful "Hello."

I force my mind into such an acute concentration that I jump when my door squeaks open and Silas comes in.

"Hallo," he says in his usual lively manner.

"Hey," I reply vaguely, not looking up from my Ancient Runes homework which I am now nearly caught up with.

"Lots of homework?"

"No, not really. I've actually done the majority of it, for once," I answer, still not looking up.

Silas pulls a chair up next to me, leaning over my shoulder to look at my work. "Need any help?"

"Not at the moment, thanks."

I scratch away in silence. The pinky of my other hand twitches in a restless tattoo against the desk. Decision, decision, decision. Screwed, screwed, screwed. What to do? What to do? I'm like the White Rabbit in my worry and endless litany of anxiety. Only it is Alice I feel like, falling down a rabbit hole. I wish the fall would never stop. Anything would be better than what will meet me at the end. With my luck, the Queen will no doubt manage to chop off my head.

"Tough day?" Silas ventures.

"Not really," I shrug.

He waits in the silence while I finish.

"What do we do tonight?"

"I haven't made up my mind. We'll walk around and then decide. Sound all right?"

"Whatever. Just let me put on some heavier socks. The temperature has dropped considerably."

"Okay."

I jerk myself out of my chair in a most ungraceful manner, knocking the back of my leg against the chair painfully. I move less gracefully still towards my dresser, earning a stubbed toe. Muttering to myself, I search a drawer for a nice thick pair of sock. Judith talks to Silas over my head, inquiring after some portrait that apparently resides both here at Hogwarts and at St. Mungo's.

As I pull on my socks, my thoughts stray back to the problem at hand. If I end up living on my own, perhaps I will make sock puppets from these socks to keep me company. I can act out the perfect life I've been missing since the day I was born. As the time draws nearer and nearer to my appointment with Dumbledore, and the decision, my thoughts get crazier and more hysterical; my brain is taking a last ditch effort at keeping my sanity by poking fun at my situation. I wonder if I will be allowed to wear woolen socks around You-Know-Who. I wonder if He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wears scratchy woolen socks. Perhaps he makes all his Death Eaters wear them so they will not catch cold when they go to carry out his foul plans.

I stand up. "Ready."

Silas takes my hand to lead me out of the room, then stops suddenly.

"You're tense."

I stiffen ever so slightly and hope he doesn't notice. "Who wouldn't be with all the homework they're giving us?" I reply lightly.

"I don't think so."

I don't answer this, just wait.

"You won't tell me then?"

My anger bursts to the surface like it has been doing all day; surges of anger like a first year who doesn't know how to keep his or her potion at a steady boil.

"You're hired as my physical therapist, not my mental one," I reply coldly.

"I'm trying to talk to you as a friend," he snaps back.

I open my mouth to say something--and realize I have nothing to say. I can't deny Silas is my friend, because he is. Somehow, he had become one. Maybe because I saw him every day and he put up with my attitude and wouldn't allow me to feel sorry for myself...that had somehow transformed him into a friend.

"I'll just be popping out now," Judith says cheerily behind us.

"Well, are you trying to tell me something?" Silas tries to keep his tone light. "'Keep it a professional relationship, Silas. I have plenty of other friends around here.'"

"That's unfair," I say automatically, scowling now. "You know better. You know me better. That's why I get along so well with you, because I don't have to say anything and you understand."

"Sometimes you have to speak to be understood."

My hand grips his tighter, fingernails digging into his palm. Good thing I have the bad habit of peeling off my nails when I'm nervous or it might actually hurt him. I give a frustrated sigh.

"Everyone has secrets, Silas. Everyone has skeletons," I turn my head away from him. "I don't have anything to say," I finish quietly.

He sighs, a long release. "Come on, then. I know where we're going."

This statement makes me nervous. Will he take me to Professor Snape and inform him that he no longer wishes to work with me? Will he take me outside in the dark and the cold, whitewash me, and leave me to spend the night in misery? Will we spend the night reviewing my Tuesday/Thursday classes without any jokes or laughter because he is determined to act professional?

We travel up flight after flight after flight of stairs. I stop trying to count the steps and turns, deciding that Silas isn't trying to make the journey from the dungeon to whatever place he had decided upon a lesson.

"One dee twenty," he announces.

"What?"

"You've heard of Dungeons and Dragons, right?"

"Yes," I reply, cautiously, knowing the relationship between Dungeons and Dragons and uber-geekdom.

Suddenly the sounds of quiet talking, laughter, and general busyness reaches my ears, coming from somewhere in front of me.

Pulling me forward, Silas says, "Yeah, well, wizards invented it first. Only wizards call it Gaols and Grizzly Bears. And instead of role-playing wizards, they role-play Muggles." He sounds as though he really knows what he is talking about, which makes me smirk. "Welcome to the Ravenclaw common room," he adds, leading me up a small set of steps and onto level ground.

Only a few people note our arrival, one or two saying, "Hey, Silas!" or, "Oy, Wells!"

Silas drags me further in, keeping a firm grip on my arm since I am trying to hang back.

"Are you sure I belong here?" I mutter nervously.

"As long as you're here with me. Besides, you don't belong to any other house, so it's not like I'm bringing an enemy into our ranks."

"Right," I mutter back, not assured. So people didn't visit the different Houses freely and Silas had even used the word "enemy," if not entirely seriously. House identity was becoming a larger and larger entity every time I came across it.

"Maddy?!" An incredulous voice cuts across the common room noise.

"Someone you know?" Silas asks, sounding a little surprised.

"I have made some friends, Silas," I reply, moderately exasperated, "I'm not sure who it is though, they only spoke my name."

He laughs suddenly. "Sorry, Maddy. I wasn't laughing at you. I was laughing because I was about to describe his looks to you, which would have been completely useless."

"At least now I'm assured that you aren't a complete Know-it-All," I reply, poking him in the side with my elbow. I feel relieved things seem to be returning to normal between us, but I'm suspicious, too. We were arguing ten minutes ago, how could he get past it so quickly?

"Hey, Maddy. Whatcha doing here? Who's your friend?" It is Jason, the same voice who had recognized me after my entrance.

"Jason!" I cry, happy to know one person in the room. Maybe there are some of Jason's friends around as well, whom I knew by association. "Jason this is Silas, my Rehabilitator from St. Mungo's I've mentioned. Silas, this is Jason. I met him my first day here in Charms. He's the one who helps me look up stuff in the library without getting paid for it."

They both say hello to each other.

"Thanks for helping Maddy, you make my job a bit easier," Silas says.

"No big deal. She helps me with potions. She can help me write my entire essay and barely crack a book to do it. You were on the Quidditch team, weren't you?"

"Yeah, I did my bit. Although there wasn't much for it, what with that Potter kid on Gryffindor and Slytherin with the latest brooms."

"True. But at least Slytherin's stopped winning the Quidditch cup every year."

I start tuning out the conversation and begin rocking back and forth on the balls of my feet, my mind automatically straying back to my dilemma. Not that I didn't find Quidditch interesting, but I had no clue about Hogwart's Quidditch history. I hadn't been able to follow international Quidditch much either, and had stuck to following Muggle football like the rest of my schoolmates. Silas had never mentioned his playing Quidditch, though.

I rock back and forth on my heels for the next few minutes while the boys discuss quidditch, idly looking around the common room, using the term 'looking' loosely, of course.

Finally, Silas asks, "Is Amata Coria around here?"
"You're actually looking for her?" Jason asks in mock disbelief.

Silas chuckles, "Yes."

"Up, then. If she's not down here doing her homework, she's up on the observatory."

"Observatory?" I ask, after saying good-bye to Jason. "What kind of dormitory is this?"

Silas laughs. "It's not as fancy as it sounds. The Ravenclaw dormitory is located in a tower and the common room is kind of divided into two floors. There's a set of stairs that go up the side of the common room to a sort of loft in the upper part of the tower. It's just a large, open, glorified platform, and you can look down at the lower common room from it. There are long windows set along the outer wall to your right so you have an excellent view of the sky and the grounds. We mostly use the upper part for the people who are done with their homework and want to relax and the lower part is mostly used for study. Although when exam time rolls around, it's hard to find a place that's not dedicated to academia in the tower."

We were making our way up the stairs slowly, Silas allowing me to run my hand along the gently curving wall covered with pictures and tapestries. He is always telling me how my surroundings look, painting a picture for me. He is very good at it, and often makes a tiny part of me, hidden deep down, wish I were small enough for bedtime stories because Silas would probably be good at those too.

"It sounds lovely," I say a bit wistfully, then add to cover my lapse, "Doesn't it get cold on the upper level with the large windows and the general draftiness of a tower?"

"Not really. The fireplace from downstairs connects to a big central stove in the middle of the floor."

I nod my head, knowing I will undoubtedly sound pensive if I open my mouth.

"Why are we--you," I correct myself, "looking for Amata?"

"You'll see."
"Not literally, of course."

"No, not literally. Things are rarely literal with you."

I raise an eyebrow and let him continue to lead me up the staircase. My mind has already jumped back to solving the answer to the question Dumbledore had posed the night before. It is a torment. Either choice is like a slow death to me. Every time I start to think about it my whole body begins to quiver. I tighten my grip slightly on Silas's arm and stumble slightly up the last few stairs while trying to gain control of myself.

"Hem. Sorry," I murmur to no one in particular.

"Stay here," Silas whispers in my ear, sounding amused.

"Okay," I whisper in return and take my hand off his arm, feeling a little confused.

He walks off and I allow my ears to focus on the sounds around me. It is only moderately loud, though louder to my ears in comparison to the studious silence below. There is talking, laughter, popping noises from people playing Exploding Snap, and even the thumping of feet of people (presumably) chasing each other.

Suddenly there is a shout, followed closely by a "Bloody hell," then laughter.

Silas, I think.

Simultaneously a voice that most likely belongs to Amata whines, "Cripes, Wells. You totally messed up my concentration. Couldn't you just say 'Hello'?"

"You already have an unfair advantage over your opponent. I'm just evening the board."

"What would that be?"

"You intimidate them into playing, and then you intimidate them into losing."

"I like to think I have a talent."

"You would. Now hold on. I had to leave Maddy in a corner so I could sneak up on you."

"What rotten thing to do!" she cries in mock outrage, "You make one irresponsible and hopeless Healer, Wells. Wotcher, Maddy!" she yells loudly at me from across the room.

I can't help but smile, "Hello, Amata." Silas reaches me and guides me closer the action.

"You do know you sound like Professor Snape when you say that, Amata?"

"Don't speak to me of that man."

I grin. "It's true Amata. Professor Snape thinks Silas is completely inept. Or very nearly so."

"It just goes to show you Snape doesn't use half of his brain."

We arrive at the table Amata must have been using for her chess match and I bump lightly into it.

"What're you two doing up here anyway?" she asks, a bit pointedly.

"Actually we're looking for a private place to shag, any suggestions?"

I broke up. There was just so much tension built up inside me in the first place and it was such an outrageous and unexpected thing to say that I couldn't help but burst out laughing. I laugh so hard I sit down on the floor clutching my stomach.

There is silence above my head where everyone else is standing. They are probably staring at me.

Finally, Amata spoke, "Is there something going on here that I'm missing?"

"No," Silas sounds amused, "Maddy just needs a break. I thought I'd give her a break from all our lessons."

"Well, it definitely sounds like she needs a break."

I am still chuckling on the floor, rocking back and forth slightly.

Silas bends down to my level, warm breath hitting my forehead. "You all right down there?"

I shake my head, laughter finally coming under my control, "Oh Silas, whatever are we going to do with you? And Professor Snape would have a hippogriff if he knew you'd just said that," I go off into another fit of laughter.

"Well, at least he could say I make you laugh."

"Not likely he'd give you that much credit," I reply, still giggling.

"Probably right, there. So what do you want to do on your night off?"

I shrug. "What are you going to do?"

"I thought I'd beat Amata at chess unless you wanted to do something else."

"Okay. That's fine with me," I stop and stretch out my hand to my right. "We're by the windows aren't we?" Now that I was paying attention, I could feel a cold draft all down my right side."

"Yeah. We can move if you like."

I smile. "No, that's fine. I'll just stay here and, er, listen to you guys play."

"Are you sure? Sounds kind of boring. I didn't drag you up here so you could be bored."

I turn my head toward the window, smiling again. "No...this is fine. Just fine...."

"As you like." He squeezes my shoulder before turning around to Amata. "You have a wireless, don't you? Can you bring it out so we can listen to some music?"

"Sure. But we can't play it too loud or my fellow, swotty Housemates may become unhinged."

"Swotty? Unhinged? I think the pot is calling the kettle black."

I smile again, vaguely, at the banter between Amata and Silas. They are like brother and sister. I wonder what it had been like when Silas had been at school. I wonder if Silas had siblings of his own. If he did, none of them were at Hogwarts right now or he surely would have introduced them to me. Maybe his siblings are non-magical. Wait, does that mean Silas is Muggle-born? Not that it matters to me, but I hadn't thought of it before. But soon it might matter, a nasty voice in the back of my head whispers.

The smile on my face vanishes. I maneuver myself on my bottom so that my back rests against the low stone wall, my head level with the bottom of one of the cathedral-like windows, drawing my knees up against my chest. Amata comes back with her wireless and turns it to WWN, which is blasting out some rock band I haven't heard before. I have a lot of catching up to do as far as wizard music went.

If you get the chance. That evil voice is still creeping around the back of my mind. I know it won't be going away any time tonight. It may never go away again.

I close my eyes and lean my head back, wrapping my arms around my legs. I would attempt to not think at all, but I know that is impossible, so I just allow my thoughts to roam freely without any attempt at focusing them. The cold seeps off the window sill and down my back, while the heat from the central fire washes warmth over my face and legs; I am divided both physically and mentally. Inside, my mind fights for control of my soul and of my destiny; outside, the heat and the cold fight to take control of my body. My ears take in the voices, the laughter, and the music swirling into a colorful blur behind my close eyelids, it also vying for a place within, a place of solace. The heat, the chill, the music, the moment all clamor together in my head, while a tiny part of me, a part saved only for myself, whispers to me, I think I've found my home.

An hour, two hours or more later (I admit I lost sense of time) Silas shakes my shoulder.

He is crouching over me again sounding amused, "You didn't doze off, did you?"

I shake my head and blink my eyes, pulling myself out of my reverie. "No, not at all."

"Come on, then. I need to get your back to your room, it's late."

This statement really shakes me into my senses. I scramble up, using Silas like a tree, completely alarmed. "What time is it?" I demand in panic.

"Less than a quarter 'til ten. Calm down, eh. I'm not going get you into trouble, nor myself for that matter, by bringing you back to your room late.

"Good," I reply, thoroughly relieved. "So who won the chess game?"

"Why me, of course."

"You won't be so lucky next time," Amata speaks from nearby, sounding good-naturedly put out. "I'll beat you yet, Wells. Your ass is mine."

"But I thought it was mine," I say grinning, thinking of Silas's earlier comment.

Amata sighs in resignation, "Very well. But just to give you fair warning, his soul has already been promised to the devil and his major organs to St. Mungo's. Upon his death, of course."

Silas cuts in sounding mildly injured, "You can stop claiming and doling out my body parts, thanks very much."

"But that's the way it is with women, Silas," Jason announces from nearby, "they're only after our bodies. They care nothing at all for our fine minds; it's all looks, looks, looks."

"Well, then you won't get very far either way, will you Jason?" a laughing voice I don't recognize says.

I smile and make myself not lean on Silas. I am beginning to feel exhausted and my night is nowhere near over.

"Thanks for bringing out your wireless, Amata. I haven't been able to listen to music in forever and I miss it."

"You don't have music in your room?" Amata sounds as though I am being deprived of air. I can't exactly say I disagree with her on that. "Come by any time to listen. I'll put the word out."

"Yeah, and while you're up here, you can help me with my potions essay."

"Right." I begin to smile, but it falters when I remember I may not be here tomorrow depending on my choice, then smile again to cover up the falter.

"I've got to get her back to her room. Snape probably has some kind of magical sensor set up just to make sure I get you back in time. See you around, Coria."

"Bye guys," I say quietly. If I say any more I might be in danger of becoming melodramatic.

We finally make it out of the common room and walk down the silent corridors towards the dungeon.

"Feel like talking now?" Silas queries, breaking the silence.

We are walking down the stairway to the dungeon.

I shake my head, looking away. "Nope, sorry. Like I said: secrets."

Silence again.

"Got it sorted out then?"

I frown briefly. "A bit. Maybe. Yeah."

We don't speak again until we reach the tapestry that conceals the doorway to my room.

"Here we are."

I nod, let go of Silas's arm, and move back the tapestry to go into my room. I stop.

"Um. Thanks, Silas. I had fun."

"Everyone needs a break."

"Yeah. Um, thanks. 'Night."

My hand begins to shake again so I grip the tapestry more tightly.

"Good night, Maddy. Oh, and don't mention our excursion to Professor Snape. I don't think he'd be very pleased."

"Right, Silas. I won't," I turn around and head into my room. "Goodnight...goodbye...."

"See you, Maddy," is heard faintly as the tapestry falls shut behind me.

I shiver and draw my arms tightly to my side to keep from shaking any more.

"You going to be all right, Madeline?" Judith asks from her place on the wall.

"Yeah, Judith. Just exhausted."

"Try to go to bed at a respectable hour tonight, you hear me?"

I just nod my head and go to sit at my desk. I won't bother to finish any homework I have left over. I simply sit and wait until Professor Snape comes and collects me promptly at a quarter after ten o'clock.

To my surprise he does not ask me or hint to me about any decision I've made. He doesn't even try to pressure me one way or the other. We just walk in silence down the corridors. I can't even begin to guess what Professor Snape might be thinking, but I know I am using all my concentration to keep myself from trembling.

Professor Snape gives the password ("Cauldron cake" again.) and there is the sound of stone grinding against stone. I am slightly more prepared this time when he pulls me onto the moving spiral staircase. I am breathing deeply through my nose at this point. Honestly, I tell myself, get a grip.

Professor Snape knocks and we both enter when bidden.

"Good evening to both of you," Headmaster Dumbledore's dry voice greets us.

"Good evening, Headmaster," Professor Snape replies.

"Evening." I practically have to tear the words out of my mouth.

I am shown to my chair and all three of us sit in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds.

"I suppose we should get down to business," Dumbledore says quietly. "Have you made your decision, Miss Philips?"

I nod my head. "Yes." I grind my teeth together, trying to put off deciding my destiny for as long as possible.

"Well, go ahead," Professor Snape spits tersely.

He sounds as tense as I feel.

"I," I take a deep breath, "I have thought about my decision very hard. I know it will be safer for me to go into hiding, but I don't think I could ever be cut off from the magical world again. I've missed out on so much for so long, and now I've finally been reinstated.... I would rather live a shorter life where I actually have a chance to live, than a long one where I do nothing at all. I will go to work for the Dark Lord and for you."

There, I had said it; I had done it; I had made my choice and sealed my fate. Surprisingly I felt light after making such a weighty decision. Since I had made my pronouncement, I guess my mind knows all I can do now is follow through. At least I knew my path in life, short though it would probably be; most seventeen year olds couldn't say that.

"Are you sure?" Dumbledore cut into my thoughts.

I turn my head to look in Professor Snape's direction; he hadn't made a sound since I had spoken. Keeping my head turned, I reply firmly, "Yes."

"Very well," the Headmaster sounds tired. "After tonight, you will answer to Professor Snape. He knows all that will need to be done to prepare you for your presentation to Voldemort."

I twitch slightly at the name, my new master's name. Silas may have sold his soul to the devil, but I had promised mine to something I considered far worse and far more real.

Professor Snape speaks for the first time, "There is much to teach you. You have lived a rather uncultured and secluded life until now. If I am to keep you out of trouble then it is best we make you as least offensive to the Dark Lord as possible. You will need to have the right hair, the right clothes, the right manners, and of course, the right friends. I'm not sure if some of the...acquaintances you have made are desirable. There is also the matter of Dark magic. It wouldn't exactly be fitting for you to learn Dark magic, of course, but your efforts in Defense should be doubled. We wouldn't want you to go in as unprepared, easy prey. Of course, before we do all this, we need to test you on the potion to ascertain that you are, indeed, a Remembrancer. I hope you are ready to shoulder the responsibility of your decision."

Headmaster Dumbledore begins to answer Professor Snape's speech. I settle back into my chair, leaning my head against the soft fabric. I won't be catching up on any sleep tonight.