Chapter 38 – Corridor of Secrets
It was the middle of spring. I was standing in Lockhart's office, and I was facing a fellow first-year student, one from Hufflepuff. He was deathly white, trembling, and on the verge of crying as he was sitting there, facing me. Originally, he was caught by Professor Umbridge for doing something trivial, playing gobstones, I think. Too bad they didn't do it in their common room and that it was that toad who stumbled into them.
"Relax, nothing will happen to you!" Lockhart chuckled, slapping his shoulders encouragingly. "You are lucky! Your friends are spending their detention with Professor Umbridge; you will be fine with us!"
It was Professor Lockhart who 'borrowed' him as I needed someone to practice my command with my memory charm. It would be my first time using it for real, and I would lie if I said I wasn't nervous. I knew nothing about him, and the Professor forbade me from asking questions. I was to penetrate his mind, learn of him a little and find the memory of him being caught and suppress it.
"Ready?" Lockhart looked at me, and I nodded, pointing my wand at the boy's face.
"Wait-!" He cried, but it was muffled by incantation.
"Obliviate!"
The scenery changed in an instant for me. I was walking along a bright, white corridor, seeing framed paintings to both my left and right. No... they were not paintings; they were memories. Recollections of... Timothy. Yes, that was his name; I heard his friends call him that in one image. "Oh!" I recognized another image; he was from Manchester. I knew that scenery of depressing industrial buildings! The surreal sight somehow looked normal to me. Walking around paintings, displaying his memories... it was... it was how it should look. I knew that by instinct. Finding the recollection I was looking for was easy; I only walked briefly before noticing it hanging on my left. Its frame was incredibly thick, carved out from some kind of red oak or something... it was as if a warning sign was painted all around it.
"This is a strong memory," I murmured while watching him play with two of his friends. I knew from my studies that stronger memories appear differently than simple ones. The meeting with Umbridge, her strolling in on them, was horrifying for Timothy. Especially because they were in an unused classroom that in itself was forbidden. Even worse, one of the stones just squirted, and its nasty, smelly liquid landed on Ubridge's shoes. No wonder they were all punished. Heavily. "Heh... good one, Timothy!" I laughed, pointing my wand at it, and the painting trembled as I tried to lift it from the wall with magic.
It was resisting vigorously, but I was ready for it. In the past weeks, I focused solely on my studies, essentially ignoring anything else. My sleeping schedule turned upside down; I sometimes slept in our hidden headquarters for a few hours, napping in the afternoon while being up until dawn. But... it was worth it! After a minute of struggle, the painting clicked and flew off the wall with a bang. I managed to stop it from knocking into the others, starting a horrible chain reaction, and concentrated on sinking it into the ground. When Lockhart said we have to slip it into the subconsciousness, he did not lie. I was pushing it down into the white, clear floor that was rippling like the surface of a lake, swallowing it very slowly. When it was finally gone, I stopped the spell, hoping I had done a good enough job, wiping my sweaty forehead.
The scenery was changing fast, fading away, and watching the other paintings on the wall, I was satisfied I did not disturb them. That would signal that I failed and damaged poor Timothy's mind and his other memories. Even knocking one off could have severe adverse effects. When I was back in reality, looking at the clock on Professor Lockhart's table, only a second had passed.
"W-what... why... Am I here?" Timothy asked, feeling confused and lost.