Chapter Twenty-Two

Bizarrely, in a strange turn of events, for the first time in forever...there will be music, there will be light.

I grinned like a mad lunatic as I gazed at the room the Room of Requirement had brought me to. Rather, it was the door of transportation. I had remembered properly. The last year, the Room of Requirements had been used to reach Hogsmeade. And just like that, it had also been used to move through the castle to skirmish the Death Eaters. I remembered properly, I was actually right, and for once things had gone by way.

I looked at the giant mirror, showcasing my polished reflection. My reflection was tapping away at a computer screen, countless awards filling the shelves while beautiful top models winked sultrily in my direction. I ignored them. I accepted my base desires, and then moved on. I tapped with my knuckles on the mirror's surface, and the tapping away author-self turned, raising an eyebrow in my direction.

"The philosopher's stone, for protection," I said dryly. He scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "I don't want to use it." I didn't. I didn't need immortality through potion-making, and I didn't want to make gold out of it. Sure, the thought did cross my mind, but it would be too complicated. My plan hinged on actually keeping the stone safe, and returning it before the end of the school year.

My mirror-self smirked, grabbing from the mirror's computer screen a crimson stone, and pulling it out. He then filched it inside his trouser's pocket, and I felt the familiar weight settle in my own trousers.

"Thank you," I said in a whisper, quietly turning around. For a brief instant, I panicked expecting the evil Voldemort to swoop in to thwart the glorious protagonist's journey one last time, but as Quirrell wouldn't attempt the gauntlet until the end of term, I was alone in the room.

Poor Quirrell, he'd be looking for a way inside the gauntlet, and then at the end, he'd be defeated without ever knowing that the philosopher's stone remained safely tucked away inside a first year Ravenclaw's trunk.

The skip in my step remained even as I returned to the Room of Requirement's main DADA-room. I felt happy. For the first time, I had done something smoothly, without problems and without risking my life even the tiniest bit. I had just had a nice talk with mirror-me. It was great. Now, as the raging reality of what I had done settled inside my skull, I still couldn't help but keep a smile on my face.

I whistled a catchy tune as I got to work on practicing my Protego. One day, I would finally get a shield and stop being manhandled by the mannequin. This was not that day, but eventually, in the end, I would.

For I was Shade Umbrus, Ravenclaw...breaker of silly plot lines and believer in simple solutions.

Later that evening, as I made my way up the Astronomy tower in a mild mid-spring night, my bubblehead charm kept me breathing, and a warm thermos in my hands kept them warm. "Anyone wants hot coffee? It's great and it's warm," I piped excitedly once we placed the telescopes. Professor Sinistra actually pondered it briefly, but then accepted a cup from me. Even atop the tower, it was relatively easy to get more cups by just getting a house elf to do it.

The thermos had been transfigured from a large rock. It had exploded only thrice, sending me to the infirmary only once, but it didn't matter. My suffering was still coming, but I had learned to live with it, and roll past the initial troublesome start into a steady and ever-rising spiral of masterwork magician training.

I didn't fancy my chances at fighting anyone straight-up, but I didn't need to fight if I reacquired one of my special secret skills. The Wall-Flower Perk had to be somewhere in my ascension tree, and the moment I unlocked it, I'd be near-invisible to all unless I made my presence known. Yes, fear me and the power of being quiet and in a corner, Wizardry world! I am the faceless goon in the background, the man in the crowd that doesn't stand out, the-

"The map," Amanda said in a whisper. "You need to fill it up," she added. The students' wands were lit with softly spoken Lumos spells, at a low glint to shine just enough to get the astronomical map filled with the names of the stars and the constellations in the skies.

"Thank you," I whispered back. I had been lost in my thoughts, and that wouldn't do. I still needed to get a passing grade in astronomy, even though I didn't really like it.

My eyes rolled over the map and my right hand began to scribble, my left holding on to my wand. After a couple of hours, we were sent back to our dormitories, the Hufflepuffs having to take the longer route to get to theirs by the kitchen.

With my main objective fulfilled, I now had side-quests awaiting me. The main one was getting practical with non-verbal spells.

Unfortunately, I made no progress on that.

"You really don't like it when I go non-verbal, do you?" I grunted to my wand after a few fruitless hours in the Room of Requirements. "Sometimes, I think it would be easier if..." I looked at the stick in my hand, I looked at it properly, and then I belatedly realized something.

I had no idea what kind of wand it was. What was its wood, its core? I dimly remembered a wand unable to perform silent magic because it always wanted to make noise, and another that instead cherished silent spells. Some were good at cursing, and others with charms. Perhaps, without knowing the nature of my wand, I had been taking the wrong approach?

Rather than being incapable of learning, the wand refused without further straining? It would be impossible to continue on non-verbal casting, and what I needed was to find out, and the best way was to go through the other students' common sense, since mine was firmly set in learning a spell to find out.

"How to find out a wand's materials?" Wayne Hopkins mused my question as we sat doing our History of Magic homework, before rubbing his chin and crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I guess you should ask Ollivander? If he sold one to your parents, he'll definitely remember it."

It was then that the acute sense of stupidity wracked through my brain with the strength of a thousand suns.

I had an owl.

It had been with me since the start, and I had dimly forgotten about it until now.

Needless to say I was thankful for the house elves that fed the owls in place of the students, because otherwise my poor bird would have died.

Thus, I wrote a letter to mister Ollivander, watched my owl stare at me owlishly, as if wondering if I was a mirage or the real thing, and then sent it on its way. Poor owl, once I got money of the wizardry kind, I'd buy it some treats.

I didn't receive a reply from Ollivander until late-spring, the poor man probably overburdened with work.

He didn't remember my wand at all.

Great. Good. Excelsior.

Well, I couldn't win them all.

I'd swing by him to let him have a look before the start of the second year, when I'd go to buy the second year stuff with the orphan-funds.

After all, he'd probably realize at a glance what my wand was made of, for he had created unlimited wands.

Thus summer arrived, and with it the most dreaded foe of them all made its move.

They arrived heralded by doom and gloom...

...the end of the year Exams.