𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑

the one with the cleansing spell

“If power was an illusion,
isn't weakness one too?”

•

I PAUSED OUTSIDE THE door when I reached it, wondering if I should come back tomorrow when it wasn't this late, taking a  deep breath, knocked, and entered. It was a shadowy room lined with shelves bearing hundreds of glass jars in which floated slimy bits of animals and plants, suspended in variously colored potions. In a corner stood the cupboard full of ingredients that Snape had once accused me — not without reason — of robbing. My attention was drawn toward the desk, however, where a shallow stone basin engraved with runes and symbols lay in a pool of candlelight. I recognized it at once — Dumbledore's Pensieve. Snape was in a couch behind the bookshelves that probably led to his chambers. I didn't go there because it was probably private. So I waited for him to notice me, which he did, and came out walking drowsily.

"It's the middle of the night," Professor Snape said looking at me like I asked for both his kidneys. "What must be the issue?"

"I think I just invented a spell," I said, panting as I gasped for air, because I had run all over the place looking for where the teachers lived.

He stared at me. It was a long awkward pause. I had finally gained my composure.

"Miss Firegold, no matter how successful," he paused, "your quests have been in this school, I believe," he narrowed his eyes, "Spell Creation is a very difficult form of magic."

"You created Sectumsempra when you were a year older than me," I said, narrowing my eyes too.

"How do you—"

"Oh, my God it's been so many years!" I stomped my foot. "You know I know things!"

He paused. He shut the door behind him. "Everything?"

"Yes!" I groaned. "Everything. I know that in a few days you're going to teach Occlumency to Harry! I know why Professor Dumbledore is ignoring Harry—which, by the way, is useless—and I also know that Mr Weasley is going to be attacked by Nagini in the Ministry of Magic—which reminds me, can you pass him this news and tell him to avoid going to the Ministry at nights when it's empty no matter how important it is to retrieve whatever the Order is trying to retrieve. So yeah," I sighed. "I know things. And I made a spell."

It took him a moment to absorb it all. He slipped into his shoes and started walking towards the Dungeons, to his Potions Chamber.

"What spell is it?" he asked as he unlocked the door. The room was jam packed with more jars and dead animal parts. I made a note to give him something Potion related this Christmas. He whipped out a stool for me to sit and he sat on one himself.

"I don't know," I said.

"You don't know?" he said looking pointedly at me. "If you're the spell-maker, you should know."

"Well, I don't," I threw up my hand. "It had been coming in my dreams. This man's voice kept saying it to me. That word was stuck on my mind. So o tried it and—"

"You tried it?" he asked. "What happened?"

"This light came out," I said looking towards the window, trying to catch that feeling again. "This light, as if a thousand urns containing sunlight had been toppled over onto me. It was heavy but it made me feel. . . light."

"And what did it make you feel?"

I looked at him sharply. He slightly flinched back a little, so I'm assuming I looked like a maniac. "It made me feel eternal."