Obliviate

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Maeve's feet touched down in Professor Dumbledore's office, and she immediately relaxed. Was it the murder that he was after all along? Maeve had not been expecting to witness that.

Dumbledore was seated at his desk, waiting patiently for her.

"That was a memory inside a memory, from a third party's possession of the memory."

"It was," said Dumbledore.

"You didn't warn me."

"Better to not overthink on the front end."

"How much time has gone by?"

"Precisely one hour and fifty-six minutes."

"That was difficult," said Maeve, rubbing her eyes.

"Incredibly. You should be very proud," said Dumbledore. "What did you find?"

Maeve walked around his desk and seated herself.

"Duncan killed Skylar," said Maeve.

Dumbledore's eyebrows shot up. "Oh."

"I thought you were interested in the blood pact, but I see now it was about Skylar's murder."

"You were correct the first time, actually," said Dumbledore. "Through attempting to discover the truth about dragon blood's capabilities, you, consequently, uncovered a murder."

Maeve's jaw dropped. "What?"

"I have to tell you, Maeve, I don't know who those two men were. I don't know who the third person was that also altered the memory. I acquired this memory a long time ago when I myself was studying false memories. I knew it was impossible for me to break, but I never forgot their conversation. And now, decades later, that memory's truth has become important."

Maeve nodded. "So it was about the blood pact then."

Maeve was entirely bemused by the fact that she had just witnessed a murder that Dumbledore was seemingly, unaware of. She wondered whose interest it was to cover such a thing up. Whoever it was, they were quite the skilled charmer. To erase a specific memory completely, or create the allusion of it, was tricky work. Not to mention it was clever to throw in a very obvious anchor to throw someone off.

"Sorry, sir," said Maeve, rubbing her face. "I got lost in thought."

Dumbledore smiled.

Maeve continued. "Skylar used the dragon's blood, which practically disintegrated the blood pact. Vial and all."

There was a long silence before Dumbledore spoke. "I owe you a great deal. Thank you."

Maeve stared at him for a moment. "There was a moment in there," said Maeve, her voice quiet, "where I thought I was trapped."

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "Levi Rodriguez said the same thing."

"Levi?" Maeve asked, suddenly alert. "The man I spent all last summer with?"

"Yes. He tried for nearly seven hours to accomplish what you just did in under two."

Maeve's mouth fell open.

"Yes, he failed," said Dumbledore. "I trust you now see the significance of your achievement?"

Maeve fell back in the squishy armchair. She had been able to break apart a false memory that the Head of the Department of Memories couldn't. A wizard with twenty more years of experience than she had.

"May I ask you a few questions, sir?"

"I think you've earned that."

"Firstly, do you really not know whose memory that was?"

"I truly do not," he said without missing a beat. "Their charms impressed you, I see."

Maeve chose her next words carefully. "Secondly, you needed this information to defeat Grindelwald, correct?"

"That is correct."

"Because you made a blood pact with him, and if you fight him, you'll be breaking that pact?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"And now you feel you have to end his war."

Dumbledore nodded.

"I was curious if I had sorted it all out correctly." Maeve grabbed her bag and prepared to take her leave.

"I'm sure you feel conflicted about it."

She stopped and turned towards him. "Not at all, sir. I am not a follower of Grindelwald's."

The next morning's Charm's exam was a breeze, as expected. As was the Astronomy exam that afternoon. Once Maeve and the other seventh years were seated in The Great Hall for dinner, it was clear she wasn't the only exhausted one. A few of them had resorted to napping on benches.

"You look positively drained," said Tom, waltzing by looking perfectly well-rested. His usual pose was in toe.

A loud commotion came bursting into the Hall, causing Tom to halt. There was a large swarm of students all huddled together, talking quite excitedly.

"Have you seen it?"

"I can't believe it!"

At that moment, a hundred owls swopped into the hall, dropping The Daily Prophet to all who subscribed to the paper. A fluffy barn owl swopped to Maeve's outstretched arm. She took The Daily Prophet from its leg and unrolled it.

DUMBLEDORE DEFEATS GRINDEWALD AT LAST

Maeve read the headline once before it was snatched by Tom, who leaned on the bench opposite her.

"That's very curious," said Tom eyeing Maeve with a scowl.

A group of Ravenclaws close by were in tears, hugging one another.

"Dumbledore really is the greatest wizard of all time!"

Tom tossed the paper down and sauntered away. Talk of Dumbledore's triumph continued for days. Wherever Maeve went, students were going on about the duel.

"Can you believe he gave an exam in the morning and then, by dinner time, defeated a powerful Dark Wizard?"

"Bloody hell! You're right!"

Maeve was fixated on her time spent breaking that false memory for Dumbledore. She kept convincing herself there was some way to find out who those men were. By the looks of their clothing, it can't have been more than fifty years old, meaning there was a chance for Duncan or the unknown skilled charms-man to be alive.

Tom told Maeve that without any actual leads, she would likely never know the truth about them.

"Perhaps you are right," said Maeve. "I can't get it out of my head nonetheless."

"I can't get it out of mine why you would assist him in taking down a great, dark wizard."

"Oh," laughed Maeve. "Suddenly, he's a 'great, dark wizard,' is he? Please rein in your prejudicial dislike of Dumbledore."

Tom sulked into his book.

"Besides," said Maeve, "I only did it for you."

Tom looked up at her lazily, his eyebrows raised.

"There can't be two great wizards in power, can there?" Maeve asked him. "He was in your way."