The Staffroom Wardrobe

The Staffroom Wardrobe

"The staffroom, a long, paneled room full of old, mismatched chairs, was empty except for one teacher. Professor Snape was sitting in a low armchair, and he looked around as the class filed in. His eyes were glittering..."

(Prisoner of Azkaban, Chapter 7, pg. 132, US hardcover)

An hour before they arrived...

It was locked inside, and it didn't like that. It struggled again for a few seconds, then it stopped. The door to the room opened, and a man-human came in. It held itself perfectly still, sensing, smelling, tasting...

It waited. The room was warm, it was comfortable, but it knew this man, and it knew that this man liked the cold. It waited. Soon, the man-human would move...

Several minute-hours later, the man-human moved. He moved closer to the place where it was locked, and it smelled him, it smelled the things in his mind, the tastes of things he wanted hidden. It sensed a very full meal was coming.

It waited.

The door opened.

It knew, before the door opened, what it would become for this man-human. It leaned its nearly-incorporeal form against the wardrobe door, and it fell out, onto the floor, at the man-human's feet.

It had assumed a woman-form with large green eyes - dead, open eyes - and long, red hair. It formed the mouth-opening into a hole, it stared her eyes at the ceiling, and it began to feed...

Horror. Horror, and more horror.

"Lily! No! Lily!"

Horror, sadness, so much sadness... It opened the woman-form's mouth and let it bleed, let the eyes bleed, the nostrils bleed.

Horror, sadness, un-loved love, sorrow, guilt, horrible guilt, unbearable guilt...

"No!" The man-human moved closer, bent down, touched it...

It sucked the emotions from the man, it sank it's thoughts back into his thoughts, it showed him a nursery, a crib, an empty crib, a book, a doll...

She is dead, she is dead, you killed her, you sent him after her, you told him how to find her, you killed her, you loved her, but you made her dead, dead, dead.

"NO!"

More sorrow, tears on the man-human's face, good, good, tears dripping onto the woman-form, it fed on the salty tears, the guilt, the anger, the rage, the guilt...

She is dead, see her dead, see her hair, red flames, the green curse killed her, you sent him to kill her, you made her dead...

"No! Riddikulus."

The man-human had caught on. Quickly, now, quickly, feed, feed...

The human-man had no power yet, he was still staring at the woman-form, still losing her again, watching her deadness, her lifelessness, and it fed on the man-feelings, juicy, ripe, deep feelings, sorrow, sorrow that would never end, nightmares that would never waken, guilt that stabbed the man-human every day, every time he saw the woman-form's son...

"Riddikulus!" The man-human stood over it, his wand was powerful.

It felt the pull of his magic, it felt its shape shifting...

...No, man-human! Not yet, there is more to feed upon, more to satisfy me, there is loathing and regret and there was once a bit of laughter, there was joy once, but joy is gone, joy is dead, dead-joy is painful, feed me, your heart is shattered, man-human, let me have it, hurt, man-human, hurt for me, give me pain-food...

"Riddikulus!" It felt its shape compelled to shift, to morph...

But there was still more pain-food, so it morphed into...

...a young man with tousled black hair and round spectacles whose legs were locked in a Jelly-Legs jinx...

I am the Harry-child's father, and I see you every day, I watch you with my son, I haunt you in your dreams, look at me in your classroom, look at the woman-eyes in my face, I am the James-human and I am everything you hate...

"Riddikulus! Riddikulus!"

The man-human could not be fooled any longer, the pain-food was dissolving, the heart-food was locked away now, it changed into...

... a stupid man-child, a student, he couldn't make the potions, he blew up his own cauldron, he set his hair on fire, he was ludicrous, even his classmates would laugh at him...

H was the other child, the one it could have been, he was the Neville-boy...

It wafted back into the wardrobe and the man-human closed the door.

But it was fed and satisfied and it heard the man-human making pain-sounds, but only for an minute-hour, and then the man-human sat back down, and it could sense his thoughts again, but it couldn't feed any more, not now, not yet.

It waited...

The door to the room opened again. A man-human and many child-humans came in, there was noise and laughter and talking and whispering, and it was happy because child-humans would always feed it well.

The man-human in the chair stood up. "Leave it open, Lupin. I'd rather not witness this." He was leaving. "Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom." The man-human's words sounded steady, but it knew what lurked inside the man-heart. "I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear."

"I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation," the new man-human said, "and I am sure he will perform it admirably."

It sensed the air, sniffed and tasted...

The moon was full in the Lupin-human's mind, it was full and white and terrifying...

"Right Neville," said Lupin-human. "First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you the most in the world?"

Neville was the other child, the one it could have been. Neville would feed him now.

When the wardrobe opened again, it frightened the boy and started to feed...

It took the form of the man with the shattered heart.