Chapter 110 - The Two-Way Mirror

Under the mounting pressure of Umbridge's policies, the Astronomy Tower was no longer safe. Praeris also couldn't bring herself to drag the innocent Professor Sinistra into danger.

So she gave one of the two-way mirrors to Hermione.

The pair hadn't been easy to come by. Praeris had commissioned Professor Sprout to purchase them, and they'd only reached her hands the week before.

Two-way mirrors were hard to find even in Knockturn Alley. The final price had been driven up to 150 Galleons.

For context: a unicorn horn was worth only 21 Galleons.

One hundred and fifty Galleons. Enough to kit out two first-year students with every single supply they needed and still have change left over, all brand-new, textbooks included.

Professor Sprout had assumed Praeris was in a long-distance relationship and given her a thorough lecture on the subject.

Toward the end, she'd muttered under her breath, "And that's only because I don't crack down on puppy love."

Praeris laughed, remembering how Professor Snape had busted couples for that very thing on Christmas Eve.

For Praeris, memories never faded on their own. That was not just a burden, sometimes it was a beautiful thing. Her memory was like a diary she carried everywhere, and paired with the emotion pocket watch Draco had given her, the effect was something like a Pensieve's review function.

She had originally planned to give the other mirror to Winnie or Ms. Prim. But before the mirror had even been purchased, the replies from her family had stopped coming.

Using the two-way mirrors had one drawback: they couldn't confirm whether the other person's surroundings were safe. They could only trust each other's instincts.

"Sirius Black said Dumbledore gave Miss Brown a mission. But before we could finish talking, Umbridge cut off our communication." Hermione looked rather troubled.

Praeris nodded.

She propped her face in one hand and tried to think in a more human way, the way Dumbledore might think, about what decisions he was likely to make.

It was difficult for her. But she had to try.

"Praeris." Hermione asked suddenly, "Do you think — "

"Hm?" Praeris raised an eyebrow.

Hermione said haltingly, "Do you think what I'm doing is right? Our Defense Against the Dark Arts group."

"I don't know." Praeris said honestly. "Miss, I genuinely don't know."

This was the second time recently that Praeris had admitted her own limitations.

Millicent Bulstrode had once asked: if someone were as powerful as Praeris, would they have absolute confidence?

The truth was exactly the opposite.

Not because she'd suffered some misfortune in childhood and buried herself in the dirt over it.

The more a person knows, the more they realize they don't know. The boundary between the known and the unknown stretches far longer when you actually understand something than when you know almost nothing at all.*

And so, the more Praeris knew, the more of the unknown she could glimpse. She was more humble than most, humble before the unknown, humble before knowledge, humble before nature and the capricious turns of fate.

"I believe I warned you to choose carefully," Praeris said. "But Hermione, you've already gone and done this. You've already pulled so many students into the game. Backing out now would only damage your credibility and Potter's, and it would undermine the students' confidence in standing up to Umbridge."

Not long ago, the three of them had used Potter's past achievements to draw students in, formed a secret Defense Against the Dark Arts study group, and had everyone sign a cursed contract. If they abandoned it now, the damage, to the students, and to Potter's morale, would be enormous.

"In this world," Praeris said with a faint smile, "hesitation accomplishes nothing. Either don't do it, or do it properly, even if that just means filling in the hole a little at a time."

Hermione gave a rueful smile. "Sorry, I, I understand."

"But you could be more rigorous about it," Praeris said. "Did you make it clear to them? That traitors will be punished."

"I told them, writing down their names means agreeing not to speak of this," Hermione said.

Praeris shook her head. "That's not enough. Do you always rely on other people's morals? If morals could truly restrain a person, what would laws be for?"

"But they all joined us willingly," Hermione said.

Praeris's tone went cold. "Which is exactly why — for the sake of the people who truly trust you — restraining those whose resolve isn't so firm becomes all the more necessary."

Hermione bit her lip, looking uncertain.

"Hermione, have you heard the Muggle story of Talia?" Praeris said suddenly. "Talia won't actually take part in your sessions. But at the end of the first-floor corridor, there's a painting of two women embracing. One of them, "

"Is named Talia."

The Room of Requirement.

Dobby had provided the study group with a hidden practice space: the Room of Requirement, across from the web of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron concentrated on the wall, and sure enough, a room appeared that satisfied everyone completely.

Hermione was very pleased, aside from the Defense Against the Dark Arts books they needed, she spotted the portrait of Talia that Praeris had described, tucked into the corner.

She pinned the list of all 31 names to the wall and wrote the name everyone had suggested: "D.A."

During a break in practice, Zacharias Smith looked at the list and said, "There are 31 names on here! But there are only 30 of us."

Harry's ears pricked up immediately.

"Oh!" Hermione said, smiling. "You mean Talia, right?"

"None of us have ever met this person!" Zacharias said. "She hasn't even come here to train!"

Hermione said unhurriedly, "She's a friend of the three of us. D.A. couldn't have been founded without her. She can't be here in person, but what represents her is already here, and she would never breathe a word of this."

Ron looked mildly startled. He hadn't realized Talia was his friend too. Had anyone actually told him that?

Even so, he instinctively backed Hermione up. "Yes, er, we all trust Talia."

"How can you be sure..." Zacharias said.

"Zacharias, I understand your concern," Hermione said. "Have you heard the Muggle story of Talia?"

She turned and pointed to the portrait on the wall. Only then did everyone notice the still painting in the corner.

"In the medieval Muggle world, if you didn't denounce someone else as a witch, you'd be considered one yourself and burned. So the Muggle Talia denounced her neighbor, a woman she knew perfectly well was a witch."

Hermione told the story in brief. "Talia thought: real witches aren't afraid of fire, so what did it matter? But the witch didn't appear again for a long time, and Talia was tormented by regret."

"Even when the witch eventually returned, Talia had already fallen ill and died, paying for what she'd done."

Zacharias raised an eyebrow. "So?"

Several people nearby had drifted over to listen.

"I think we all hope our activities won't be discovered," Hermione said, following Praeris's advice, "and that the people beside us are worthy of trust. But this is also to protect those same people, to keep anyone from being forced into becoming a Talia. Someone who, in a moment of weakness, has no choice but to point the finger."

"That's why we have this special piece of parchment. Anyone who betrays us will meet an unpleasant end." She looked at Zacharias. "You can rest easy. Talia is willing to serve as a warning. She was the first to sign her name, she won't betray us."

Zacharias raised an eyebrow. "That's more than fine by me."

If even Zacharias had nothing left to say, no one else bothered about Talia after that.

Beside Cho Chang and Cedric, Marietta Edgecombe said with visible displeasure, "Does Granger doubt us? Think we're not trustworthy?"

Cho Chang looked puzzled. "What's the issue? None of us are going to tell Umbridge about D.A."

"Maybe it's because Hermione's friend Talia can't be here in person, but she's still someone who knows about it," Cedric said, backing Cho's view. "So that's why there's this signature guarantee. It's actually quite good, trust with limits is real trust. With the curse on the signatures, we can trust each other that much more."

Marietta said reluctantly, "Fine."

"I bet Talia is a ghost!" Lavender said to Parvati. "The ghost of the portrait in the corner!"

"Portraits and ghosts aren't the same thing," Parvati said. "Ghosts can move around, but portraits can't come into the real world."

Lavender clasped her hands together. "Exactly! Talia's portrait is completely still! Maybe it's the ghost of someone who admired Harry or Ron, she left her portrait behind for love, became a ghost, and joined D.A. as an invisible member! That's so romantic..."

"That can't possibly be right..." Parvati was deeply unsettled. "The Talia in the portrait is a Muggle, of course she doesn't move!"

Lavender wasn't listening. She was lost in her own romantic story.

Just past 9 o'clock, D.A. disbanded on schedule and everyone returned to their respective common rooms.

Harry was elated. He had taught others Defense Against the Dark Arts today, like a real teacher.

The pent-up gloom of recent weeks had lifted somewhat. A fire burned in his chest. He had a secret now, and it was enough to make him stand a little taller.

The one sour note was that Cho Chang and Cedric had practiced together. She hadn't seemed to need Harry's help at all.

"Thank you, Harry," Cho Chang said, a little awkward. "The spells I need to learn aren't that difficult, Cedric can teach me. It's Cedric who, "

Cedric, standing right beside her, immediately invited Harry to practice dueling with him.

Cho Chang tactfully stepped back and went to practice with Marietta.

"I've been wanting this," Cedric said. His expression shifted, the melancholy lifted, replaced by something steadier, something like resolve. "A proper, fair duel. No outside interference."

And so Harry and Cedric went at it. Sparks flew. The duel was spectacular enough that the rest of the room stopped what they were doing to watch.

Cedric wanted to grow stronger. He wanted to avenge his father.

Harry was driving the heartache of unrequited love out through his wand arm.

Neither of them held back much. They kept going until the other students' mouths fell open.

In the end, Cedric was slightly outmatched and went down.

Harry extended his hand and pulled him up.

Cedric looked up at Harry, and there was no trace of defeat on his face.

"Haha!" Cedric said, grinning. "Harry, the Triwizard Cup should have been yours!"

"I don't know as many spells as you," Harry couldn't help saying.

"Harry, that's because I'm already a seventh-year!" Cedric said openly. "But you did far better than me just now. How did you think to, "

Cho Chang applauded from the side, then jogged over to Cedric and handed him a handkerchief.

Harry couldn't tell anyone about the bitterness sitting in his chest. He'd already discovered that he couldn't truly hate Cedric. Now he discovered that he couldn't envy him either.

The two of them were just that right for each other.

Before the Yule Ball, because of a single moment's hesitation, he'd arrived one step too late. And so everything had been one step too late.

Praeris glanced carefully around, then knocked softly on the wooden door in front of her.

"Sir, it's me," she said quietly.

The door opened at once. The man standing behind it had a dark look on his face. "Come in."

"I'm very sorry, sir." Praeris followed him quickly, words tumbling out. "I know you don't want to see me here. But I believe it's necessary."

"I see no necessity whatsoever," Snape said coldly. "Miss, you should be asleep, not sneaking into my office in the middle of the night."

"It is necessary." Praeris pressed on. "Has something happened to Winnie? Did Dumbledore send her back to the Dark Lord? You've already done this kind of thing, is this really the sort of situation where one more person can't help?"

"Listen!" Snape's expression went cold and flat. "Miss, this is adult business, and you are a student. Your job is to attend class, do your reading, complete your homework, eat, and sleep. Not to have people put in a good word on my behalf, and not to concern yourself with whether a Death Eater deserves to live or die!"

"Even without me, Pansy would speak well of you," Praeris said, a sharp edge in her voice. "Harry Potter is also a minor. How many times has he faced the Dark Lord by now?"

"I don't care about other Death Eaters!" she went on. "Sir, there are only two Death Eaters I care about. You and Miss Winnie."

Snape's face darkened further. "Miss. Listen carefully. Whether it's you or Potter, you should both be in bed at this hour. Any Death Eater — whichever one — deserves death a thousand times over. Go back, Miss. I have no desire to dock points from Slytherin."

For the first time, Praeris shot Professor Snape a real glare. "How can you say that!" Her voice came out angry. "Fine, dock my points then. It's our own Slytherin house losing them anyway!"

She turned and stormed toward the door.

Snape thought she would walk straight out. But she stopped at the threshold.

"Professor." Her voice had gone quiet again. "The young Dark Lord couldn't get his hands on anything truly good growing up. But he was always both insecure and proud, underneath it all." She paused. "Has Dumbledore examined all four founders' artifacts? Especially Salazar Slytherin's."

After all, Praeris had never forgotten.

The Dark Lord was the true heir of the Chamber of Secrets.

➤ Next: Praeris’s Memories — Heartbreak