Like the spectrums
Of the shinning sun
‘Hogwarts has certainly outdone itself this year; we have never had a better DADA teacher!’ I burst out of Professor Umbridge’s class, sarcasm dripping from my voice. One month into the term, I was still marvelling at the mixture of dullness, fake sweetness and meanness that was our new professor.
‘I thought we had the worst of it with Maniac Moody last year, and then they came up with this,’ Pete said in a disgusted tone.
‘And I thought we had it bad with Garlic Spread back in second year! I’d take him back anytime, at least with him we still got to see some spells!’ Archie pointed out.
‘I wish I could just skip,’ I trailed dreamily.
‘Forget it! Ben tried last week and she went after him. He got summoned to her office!’ Pete warned.
I gave a muffled grunt, inwardly forgetting my dreams to practice defence in the library with Caroline instead of reading under the big toad’s nose.
‘He told me her office was pink, too,’ Archie provided.
I giggled at that. ‘Seriously? I thought pink was for nice girls!’
‘No big deal for you anyway, right, Cybele?’ Archie went on. ‘Got all top marks in Defence, it takes you seconds to master new spells; but think of us, facing OWL exams without training!’
That made me feel guilty. My group knew I was not an ordinary witch since I had woken up from my accident the year before.
‘Do you want me to send her to Antarctica?’ I asked sweetly.
‘Can you do that?’
‘Yes, but I’m afraid the headmaster wouldn’t take long to figure out I’m the culprit.’
‘Pity…’
As if on cue, Professor Flitwick stopped me at the entrance of his class.
‘Miss Philius, the headmaster will meet you tonight after classes,’ he informed me simply.
Archie chuckled as I sat beside the boys. ‘You haven’t even done anything yet!’ he teased.
‘At this rate, maybe you should transform her into a toad anyway,’ Pete suggested.
‘I can’t do that; she’s already one.’
When I reached the headmaster’s office after dinner the same night, I found the Potions Master there too, looking tense. He was actually pacing, making his robes twirl dramatically behind him. I could see what Pete meant when he called him a bat.
‘Miss Philius,’ the headmaster greeted me. ‘Come in and take a seat.’ He gestured to the armchair I knew only too well. Professor Snape gave me a curt nod, his face softening slightly for a second in a subtly engaging way I had learnt to perceive.
‘I am afraid I’m the reason why your research sessions with Professor Snape have not resumed yet,’ Dumbledore started quite directly.
I arched an eyebrow. I was not expecting that. I had never worked with Professor Snape the first month of term in past years; I had forgotten that there had always been a reason for that and had viewed it as a habit.
I also took in the tension emanating from the scene. Professor Snape was not sitting down. The headmaster however sat comfortably behind his desk and invited me to sit again. I complied, curious.
‘I understand that last year, after the Magian theory became solid, you spent the year doing theoretical research,’ the headmaster started.
I held his piercing gaze and didn’t comment. Although I did it all the time, I had little patience for other people stating the obvious. I could feel Snape at my side looking steadily at Dumbledore too.
‘We have not decided yet how to go on this year,’ Snape said in a cold whisper. I sensed that the two men had held this conversation before. Was Dumbledore trying to interfere with our research? And if he did, why wouldn’t it be for the best? Why did Professor Snape sound so hostile?
‘I understand, Miss Philius, that you want to spend as much time and energy as it takes to find out where you come from and how you can be a Magian, a sole Magian in the modern wizarding world,’ Dumbledore resumed kindly. ‘I understand how hard it is to start living and take responsibilities before one knows one’s origins.
‘In other circumstances, you would have my unconditional support,’ he said, sounding regretful.
‘So, what are your reservations now, Professor?’ I asked simply, quite puzzled by the over-cautious approach.
‘War is coming, Miss Philius, something I am sure you are aware of,’ he started, with a hint of a question in his voice.
‘Yes,’ I confirmed. ‘I believe Harry Potter, I know Voldemort is back and war has begun, somehow, even if it’s hidden,’ I stated clearly, wanting to leave no doubts about where my loyalties lied: to the school, as the headmaster knew well – or did he?
Dumbledore gave me an approving smile.
‘War is a terrible thing,’ the old man started next. I raised an eyebrow again, unimpressed by the clichéd statement. I could somehow sense an inner chuckle in the Potions Master beside me. The connection we had developed lately was more and more verging on reciprocal mind reading.
‘It forces people to grow up faster,’ Dumbledore was pursuing calmly, unabashed by my disrespectful eyebrow.
‘In the face of war, Miss Philius, I am requesting you to chose your path of action, without waiting for the complete truth to be deciphered about your past, without fully knowing who you are. In the face of your exceptional powers and the exceptional circumstances, Miss Philius, are you ready to take part? Are you ready to put your research on hold and spend time and energy fighting for the values you believe in, whoever you may be?’
Dumbledore remained quiet after that and held my gaze with a mixture of encouragement and something like guilt. Did he feel guilty about postponing my research? Shouldn’t I be the one feeling guilty for not having offered my help sooner? I felt grateful he had asked me directly, that he wouldn’t consider me as a child. Of course I would do anything for Hogwarts.
Forgetting Professor Snape for a while, I held silently the older man’s gaze. I couldn’t tell why I was not answering immediately, assuring the headmaster of my willing support. Maybe something was not quite right, I mused, peering in the old man’s patient eyes, trying to understand this protector I barely knew. I understood what a brave and good person he was. A profoundly human man, feeling sincerely for each of the living beings coming in his range of power, let them be wizards, Elves, Magian... Yet a man of great schemes, used to moving the pawns around him as the powerful master he was, for the greater good.
As I thought this, I saw something unsettling in the headmaster’s eyes and face. Curious to read it, I accidentally peered in his mind; I then perceived the tiniest flicker of information and was stunned by it: he knew. But I couldn’t get anything more. It was a foreign sensation. Something was here in front of me that I couldn’t reach. In a second of inattention, when I had thought the last, I had unintentionally read his mind and known that he knew more, he knew all I was desperately looking for, about Magi. And he was hiding it. ‘Why?’ I thought; but then, ‘How?’
For the first time in five years, I realized I was being fought by a wizard – and losing! Dumbledore was blocking information from me. It was a silent and calm battle. I gapped at the headmaster, unsuccessful at reading his mind.
‘Professor Snape,’ the headmaster called unexpectedly. ‘Maybe I could talk to Miss Philius alone for a minute?’ he asked politely; ‘About something else,’ he added.
‘I am alone,’ I thought. ‘I mean, as alone as you will find me,’ I explained in a definitive tone.
Dumbledore smiled. Snape silently sat down beside me instead of leaving. Dumbledore didn’t comment or insist.
‘I will tell you why, and how, then,’ he explained. ‘Whether my answers will satisfy you or not, I cannot guarantee.’
I didn’t understand immediately what the headmaster was talking about. Then it drew on me that as much as I had been unsuccessful at reading his mind, he had been able to read mine; something that Professor Snape had failed when trying Legilimency on me. I looked at Professor Snape and understanding drew on him too.
Dumbledore seemed to be waiting leisurely for the two of us to catch up with him. He gave a satisfied smile when we turned back.
‘That was an interesting portrait you painted of me, Miss Philius,’ he commented first. I held his gaze once again. I had thought every word of it and I didn’t feel ashamed of what I had on my mind, or what he may have read.
‘You are right,’ he admitted, ‘it was very accurate,’ he praised soberly. ‘And you asked how? Well before I ever met you, Miss Philius, I had done research on Magi and particularly on the founder of your House. I have looked into this kind of magic; I have developed skills to the point that, as you see, I am uncommonly gifted at non-verbal and wand-less magic. It is very hard to obtain the skill,’ he said, ‘but once you have it, it is the most natural thing on earth,’ he said with a confident smile. ‘I could not hold long, though, against your powers.
‘Yes, I know more about what you are looking for. Why won’t I tell you? Because I think you will be happier without knowing,’ he provided simply. ‘Actually, I have come to think that the war and the necessity to step into action may be a chance for you to go forward with your life without burdening yourself with… dark magic.’
At that point, I felt tired, too tired to even feel angry at the old man. I could tell him he didn’t understand, I could try and explain to him what it felt like to spend years trying to decipher an intricate riddle, just to know who you were, just to know where you came from. How it felt to have a friend like Professor Snape who would spend his time and energy helping you and the guilt one could feel to be on the receiving end of so much dedication. But I could tell him all that and he would still think that I was better off without knowing.
And he was right, of course, I reflected. I could know who I was and head in the right direction without having all the details about my past. It would probably be even more difficult to go on with the burden of a possibly disturbing past – dark magic, he had said. But Professor Dumbledore would not understand that I wanted to be brave. I wanted to know. I wouldn’t be alone, Professor Snape would help me. The future would be even more solid and happy with a past – any past.
I could feel Snape tense beside me. I knew he wouldn’t argue unless I started it.
‘What would you have wanted me to do?’ I asked coldly, articulating clearly the past conditional. I sensed Professor Snape’s eyes on me and caught a glimpse of surprise in the older man’s eyes. I gave the latest a hard look. I was not going to argue his point. But I was on my own side now.
‘Choose a side,’ the headmaster stated simply.
‘Voldemort is a murderer,’ I stated, ‘I want him vanquished as much as any of you and your Order.’ I had purposefully included the last word. I couldn’t help but perceive information from my best friends’ minds unintentionally. I didn’t pay attention to it most of the time, but I couldn’t have not noticed their participation in the upcoming war, which was often on Fred and George’s minds.
Dumbledore simply smiled.
‘Thank you,’ he said simply. ‘I take it you will help us and fight?’ he asked.
Why do you even have to ask? Didn’t I already say I would, countless times in the past? I asked inwardly Does this man even trust me? I could ask.
‘Will you trust me?’
Dumbledore didn’t answer. I looked at him. A chess player in front of the board. Was he seeing me as anything but a powerful and dangerous weapon? Couldn’t he remember the hopeful child leaving his office holding Eslis’ hand? Couldn’t he repay me a bit of the confidence I had put in him then? Couldn’t he let me repay a bit of the favour he did me? I felt anger rise in me like a hot steaming liquid. But no; He kept silent.
‘You are right,’ I answered for him with hurt in my voice. ‘I know things you don’t choose to tell me, I can’t even help it. I am a dangerous ally. But one you cannot let go either. I know you didn’t welcome me to Hogwarts because you trusted my intentions. You didn’t have a choice. Nothing has changed,’ I said in a grieved tone. I felt hopeless. What I had just said was true.
The old man didn’t even try to answer or deny. How could he ever trust a Magian? Then I felt the boiling anger change into a cooler liquid escaping my body. Something was coming out of me, but it was not the anger. ‘You invite me to fight at your side not because you have learnt to trust me. You still don’t have a choice,’ I finished and this time I found my voice cool.
A soft white light had started steadily emanating from me as I spoke, but I couldn’t stop myself from talking. ‘Maybe you’re like the others after all, afraid of what you can’t feel or see.’ The soft light was expending softly in a halo around me, now, and eventually washed over the headmaster. I had risen without realizing it in the heat of my speech and the light now bathed the old man entirely, whose expression was difficult to read. I recognized the halo as what had left me in my second year, but this time it had expanded coolly from me, in a controlled, painless way. I understood – I knew – that my very soul, holding my magic, my intentions and my loyalties had reached the old man in my desperation to have him recognizing me at last.
When I caught Dumbledore’s eyes again, I knew it had worked. One cannot feel such a thing as a soul on one’s very skin without recognizing it. I felt a cool triumph. I turned to Snape and realized he had been bathed in the halo too. He looked overwhelmed. He was wearing an awed expression I couldn’t even have imagined on his face if I had tried. He didn’t disappoint me, though, by regaining a straight face long before the headmaster seemed to come out of his thoughts. I felt cool and powerful.
‘Monday?’ I asked cryptically to Professor Snape.
‘Monday,’ he confirmed with a one of his seldom, precious and fast as lightening bright smiles. I was collecting those smiles like gems, in a vault somewhere in my memory. I smiled back.
I walked out slowly of the headmaster’s office without a word for him. I had made my point.
‘Such a journey,’ the headmaster commented a minute after Cybele had left, ‘we have embarked upon since a Magian showed up at our door four years ago.’ He was smiling again. ‘We knew we would see wonders,’ he trailed.
‘She deserves to know anything you can tell her,’ Snape demanded.
‘She deserves to be happy,’ the old man argued. ‘Severus, trust me.’
‘Trust me! Do you need to feel my soul to know that I can be trusted with her happiness?’
‘Yes,’ Dumbledore answered, ‘and I can feel it. Your soul has never been closer to your skin, Severus.’
In spite of the powerful sensation, I realized I was very weak as I stepped down the headmaster’s office. I needed to make directly for the dormitory, I thought, slightly nauseous.
I felt disorientated, though, walking absentmindedly toward the East.
‘Cybele!’
Is that Draco’s voice? I looked up, but realized I couldn’t recognize where I was. Everything was in a blur.
‘Cybele?’
Am I hearing voices? I swayed on my feet.
I next felt a firm arm supporting my waist. Only then did I realize that I had been collapsing. I suddenly found myself kneeling on the cold marble, leaning on Draco.
‘Cybele, this light, it’s like last time!’ he was explaining, panicky. ‘I’ll bring you to the Hospital Wing!’
The blur dissipated in front of my eyes as I rested again Draco. I was quickly feeling better and as I looked down on me, I realized a smaller halo was still emanating from me.
In the emotional state in which I had flown from the headmaster’s office after having extended my soul to him, not only hadn’t I realized how weak it had left me but also that I was still projecting my soul. I imagined what would have happened if I had stepped like that in the Ravenclaw common room. I understood Draco’s panic.
‘No, I’m fine,’ I explained. ‘It’s different, I… I did it on purpose this time. It’s just very tiring.’
‘What is it?’ he asked, brushing gently my shoulder, bathing his hand in the thicker of the soft white light and sending shivers all over my body.
It was weaker now and recessing slowly inward. But Draco was very close and now that his panic was reasonably appeased, he seemed to start feeling as Dumbledore and Snape had.
‘My soul.’
Draco caught my eyes. I saw he believed it, bathed in it as he was, clearly feeling its effect.
My soul, I thought, with all my feelings, all my secrets within! I tried to pull off but Draco, overwhelmed by what he was feeling, was holding tightly, more and more tightly. He gave me a soft smile and embraced me completely, pulling me into his lap as he closed his arms fiercely around me. He leant his head beside mine and let his chin rest on my shoulder, his bare neck touching mine in the closest possible embrace.
I stopped fighting. Whatever Draco had felt had overwhelmed him. Whatever Draco had felt had not made him run away from me or laugh. I smiled. I couldn’t say how long we stayed like that on the cold floor. I felt my soul shrinking slowly back inward. Soon the light had disappeared completely and we were in deeper darkness in the deserted corridor.
‘I love you too,’ I heard in a soft whisper in my left ear. I felt a single warm tear running down my check. I passed my arms around my friend too and held onto him fiercely, smiling a wet, broad, smile.
‘Meow.’
We could have made it if we had heard the cat at the first mewing, I suppose. But then, looking back, the handfuls of extra seconds spent in Draco’s arms before Flitch arrived were worth it.
‘Meooow!’
‘What’s that?’ Draco asked softly at the second – or had the cat been there creaking for hours? – mewing.
‘Shit, Mrs Norris!’ I exclaimed inelegantly. ‘Was the first word I’ve ever said in Draco’s arms shit? So typically me…’
As we stood up, two persons arrived simultaneously. Flitch arrived up from the stairs.
‘Students out of bed!’ he yelled, as his usual war cry went.
Snape arrived from the west and the headmaster’s office.
‘Cybele, are you all right?’
Draco had not let go of me, afraid that standing up would make me feel bad again. We were obviously giving a very bad impression to the caretaker. I hurriedly answered Professor Snape enquiry.
‘I felt bad, Sir, after… Draco found me, he made me sit here for a while and I’m better now.’
‘I should not have let you leave like that!’ Snape answered briskly. ‘Draco, help me walk Miss Philius to the Hospital Wing!’ he ordered. And he walked toward the stairs, Draco supporting me to follow him, without even a word for the caretaker, who stare at us leaving, looking like he had just been hit by a door square in his ugly face.
They left me in the Hospital Wing where Madam Pomfrey forced a strengthening potion down my throat before I collapsed.
Snape and Draco exchanged a look outside the Hospital Wing. Bathing in one’s very soul, experiencing their raw love, sensing their most inward reactions to the slightest word or glance from you, was not an experience easily shared.
They both raised their eyebrows at the same time, completely oblivious of the comical picture they were thus offering.
Somewhere in a flicker of their eyes, they both understood they had shared a much more similar experience than they would be ready to admit. Draco looked down.
‘If you were given something priceless,’ murmured the trademark flat voice of Severus Snape, lower and slower than usual, even, making Draco look up. ‘Something complex and immensely precious; would you know how to take care of it?’ he asked in a dangerous whisper.
‘I don’t know,’ answered Draco almost inaudibly after a while.
‘Wouldn’t it be worth trying?’ Severus suggested.
And without waiting for an answer he disappeared in his trademark twirl of black robes, like a vampire dramatically descending the majestic staircase.
Lying awake late that night, Draco didn’t know if he felt more elated, happy, frightened or angry.