❝ 'How dangerous,' she thought. 'To finally have something worth losing.' ❞

I don't know what I expected walking into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, but an empty desk and barely any additions to the walls wasn't it.

Curiosity itches at my insides. I spot Ralph Richards at a desk on the second row and walk up to him.

"Hey, Sibi," he greets me with a smile.

I sit on the empty chair. Put my bag down, take out my book.

"Did you get the chance to see our new sub yet?" I ask.

He nods. An uncharacteristically dark look falls over his face. "One of those Ministry buttholes that came for the examination. Didn't catch his name, though." He adjusts his glasses. "Rena and I have prepared the perfect welcome gift. Watch."

He points at a hat that's perched on the back of the teacher's chair. Nothing looks outwardly off about it. I raise a questioning brow.

"Wait until he tries to put it on."

Ralph stands up on his tiptoes and tries to peer into the ajar backdoor of the teacher's office on the balcony. Eventually, he gives up and plops back down on the seat. Shakes his head.

"Can't see anything. Wonder what's taking him so bloody long."

His lack of hostility toward me is reassuring. Still, remembering Melvin's attitude from the other day at the meeting, I hesitate before asking, "You still support me, then?"

Ralph turns to me with a deadpan expression.

"Nah, I just decided to side with the Simmons all of a sudden."

He probably thinks I don't catch the sarcasm because he curls his lip in a smirk. I smile just barely.

"I'm only asking because your cousin doesn't seem to be on the same boat," I say.

Ralph sighs. "It's not that Melvin doesn't support you. It's just that he's always had a little . . ." He screws up his face. Searches for the word. "Too much admiration for uncle. Whatever he says, Melvin will hold like the holy truth."

"I see."

"Not that uncle Karson isn't well-informed," he further explains. "So I get why Melvin trusts him in everything. But even so, uncle never had anything against the magazine. His whole deal is that he doesn't trust professor McBon."

"Do you?" I ask.

I want to know the answer, but deep inside I'm also seeking support. Assurance. I want to know I'm not being insensible as Henry claims. Ralph thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs.

"I'd rather hear the full story before passing any judgment."

I shake my head. "Yeah, that's what we seem to be missing. The full story."

I don't have time to say more. The door of the teacher's office creaks open and a man emerges. He trudges down the marble steps, walks up to his desk. His head is nearly bald, his beard long and brown, his stomach protruding. The suit he's clad in is light grey and wrinkle-free. Indeed he's a familiar face—one of the three men that came for the examination.

He grabs his hat from his chair and tries to put it on. Ralph nudges my arm. The moment the hat makes contact with the man's head, water pours out of it like a bucket. I gasp.

Ralph sniggers and looks back at Rena who's sitting on the opposite row. He winks at her; she bursts out laughing. Soon, the rest of the class joins in and I don't fight a chuckle of my own.

"Ah, the Raincloud Charm," the man remarks. Instead of being annoyed, there's an amused look on his face. He smiles. Brings out his wand to dry his wet suit. "I've got to say, that was quite clever. A true Auror never touches an object without first checking if it's safe. That was careless of me." A pause. "Does the person responsible for this wish to step up?"

There's a moment of tensed silence. I glance at Ralph out of the corner of my eye. Before I can caution him against it, he stands up. Rena does the same. I hold my breath. The man's eyes dart between the two of them, his gaze scrutinizing.

"And what are your names?" he asks. Not angry. Not demanding. Just calm, inquisitive.

"We're the Richards, sir," Rena chirps. "I'm Rena, and that's my twin brother, Ralph. We pride ourselves on being the best pranksters around here. Along with our cousin, Melvin from Slytherin."

His look turns to a fascinated one.

"Richards?" he asks. "Are you related to Karson Richards?"

"Yes, sir," Ralph says. "That's our uncle. Melvin's dad."

The man grins. "Karson is an old friend and colleague of mine. A fine man. I hear he, too, was a Slytherin during his time as a student."

He titls his head toward the window, his eyes taking a wistful look. He snaps out of it mere seconds later. Looks at Rena and Ralph again, almost tenderly this time.

"Ten points to Ravenclaw," he announces.

The shock on the twins' faces must match mine. Surely I was expecting they'd be punished for their prank, not rewarded. Over the years, teachers have displayed different levels of tolerance at their mischiefs. The first year, they got a lot of detentions, especially from professor Rollick. Eventually, the staff grew to realize pranks were the Richards' shtick, so they'd either pay no mind or, at most, take points off. But this was the first time a teacher was actually rewarding the twins points for a prank.

Ralph sits down as if in a daze. He looks at me for an explanation. I shrug, equally confused.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the man speaks up. "Ted Raymond, Head of the Auror Office. Graduated from Hogwarts in 2003, along with your beloved headmaster, Boden Dashawn. Currently, I've been informed I'll fill in for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, head of the Gryffindor house and deputy headmaster after Breeze McBon's unfortunate . . . departure."

"He mispronounced arrest," Ralph whispers, leaning in. I hold back a giggle.

Ted Raymond walks up to his desk. Takes off his jacket, puts it on the back of his chair. His eyes scan the classroom.

"There's nothing particularly fascinating about me, which is why I'm keeping the introductions brief," he says. "Of course, feel free to ask me any burning questions you may have and I give my word I'll answer them with full honesty. But what I'm more interested in is getting to know you guys, so that I know how best to teach you."

He takes a deep breath. Starts pacing around in front of the blackboard.

"I want to make sure I'm doing justice to the positions I'm substituting for," he continues. "I know I'll never be Breeze McBon, and I completely understand if you don't trust me. But I am confident enough that the skills I've gained from my work as an Auror for the past eight years, as well as my extensive knowledge on dealing with the Dark Arts will be a helpful addition. Both to the school, and to all your lives."

Despite his words, nobody seems to care much to ask any questions. It's like they don't recognize him as the man who fetched Polly and Stella the day of the examination and bound their hands with ropes before taking them away. Granted, he could've just been assigned the duty against his will, but I still expected more of a scene.

I search for Christine's face around the room but don't see her. She's been doing that a lot lately: skipping class, misbehaving, getting detentions. I don't blame her for how hard she's taking the turn of events, but there are better ways to cope. Healthier ways.

"No questions? Wonderful then. Less spotlight for me, fortunately." The man laughs, looking genuinely relieved. There's a warmth to his smile. "Let's have a little quiz then, shall we? Who can tell me what the Wish-Fulfillment Curse is?"

The Wish-Fulfillment Curse . . . I remember reading about it. I take a moment to think. When I'm confident with the answer that comes to mind, I raise my hand, but Ted Raymond picks another student to respond.

"Yes?"

I turn. He's called on Roxanne Vance, the Ravenclaw Prefect. She clears her throat and answers.

"The Wish-Fulfillment Curse is a curse that helps someone figure out the deepest wish of the person they cast it upon. It's usually used as a means for Aurors to try and understand the motives behind criminal offenses committed by otherwise regular wizards or witches. It can also be used by dark wizards to threaten and manipulate their victims."

A smile of satisfaction spreads on Raymond's face. "What's your name, dear?"

"Roxanne Vance."

"Well, I believe that's another five points to Ravenclaw," he says. Roxanne doesn't hide her proud grin. "Excellent, Ms Vance. Precisely. The Wish-Fulfillment Curse is a paradox even in its name. I often find myself reminding even the best of Aurors that I train to focus less on the 'Wish-Fulfillment' and more on the 'Curse' part because despite its name, this curse does not actually grant one's wishes. Such a thing remains impossible. However, it does project the false illusion of a granted wish, which makes it dangerous. Tempting for those who are vulnerable and easily swayed."

"Like the Mirror of Erised, sir," someone blurts out.

Ted Raymond nods, impressed. "That's a wonderful comparison. The Wish-Fulfillment Curse shows the same thing as the Mirror: your heart's deepest desire. Another similarity is that they both can allure someone and drive them to the brink of insanity. And who can tell me what it takes to fight the curse?"

I raise my hand before Roxanne can beat me to it. Raymond meets my eye and gives an encouraging nod.

"It takes full concentration and a strong willpower," I say, my voice confident. "Otherwise, the spell won't work."

"Correct. And what would the spell be?"

"Assimulaticio. It derives from the Latin word 'assimulaticius' which means unreal. It is meant to reverse the curse by making the illusion feel less believable, and ultimately disappear."

The man grins so broadly crinkles form under his eyes.

"Your name, dear?" he asks.

"Sibi Mayo."

"Wonderful, Ms. Mayo. Five points to Gryffindor."

A tinge of pride bubbles within me. I smile.

"I'm impressed," he says. "I was anxious I might struggle to explain this concept to you lot, but clearly you're more intelligent and well-read than I thought. I feel confident we can jump into the demonstration and practice right away. What do you say?"

There is collective agreement. We get to our feet and walk to the empty space at the back of the class.

"Please get in a line," Raymond requests. We do as told. "Wonderful. It's just the first day and I already love teaching you all. Couldn't have asked for a better class."

"But we could've asked for a better sub," Ralph whispers behind me.

It's those words that remind me of the man's identity again. I was so wrapped up in the lesson so far, I forgot our new substitute teacher is someone appointed by the Ministry. I find myself conflicted. He's not half as bad as I expected.

"Now, I will cast the curse on you and you will attempt to block it," he says. "Block it mentally first. Don't let me get a hold of your deepest wishes. Don't let my spell work. Then cast Assimulaticio, loud and clear. It's sort of a mouthful, so if you'd like to test it out on your tongue first, I'll give you a minute."

The sound of students uttering the spell out loud fills the room. I tune it out, choosing to focus on something else. My deepest wish . . . There's many things I want, but I'm not sure which of them will appear when the curse is cast, which makes me nervous.

I take a deep breath. Raymond claps his hands to get everybody's attention.

"Ready?" He flashes an amiable smile. "Ms. Vance, off you go!"

Roxanne, first in line, always the teacher's pet, steps forward confidently. Raymond pulls out his wand. A tiny blue spark comes out of its tip, then an image begins to take form in front of Roxanne. It depicts her as a successful Auror. The Minister, Zico Peterson is handing her an Order of Merlin, First class. Camera lights are flashing in her face, and one of the photographers asks her to smile for the front page of the Daily Prophet.

The vision looks so real, so tangible, it's hard to keep in mind it is actually just an illusion. Probably why Roxanne hesitates before pulling out her own wand. Her eyes glaze over.

"Assimulaticio," she says, but it's not strong enough to have any effect.

"Focus, Ms. Vance," encourages Raymond. His tone is patient. "Gather all your will. Block me from having power over you."

The words seem to help Roxanne take charge. She shakes her head and raises her wand higher. Furrows her brows in concentration.

"Assimulaticio!"

A ball of bright light comes out of her wand. I shield my eyes. When the light fades, the vision is gone.

"Excellent, excellent!" Raymond's voice is enthusiastic.

He raises his palm for her to high-five. Roxanne is practically jumping through the roof. She gives him a high-five and walks to the end of the line with her head held high.

"Next person!"

Raymond readies his wand. Walcott Royce steps up. His hand shakes as he brings out his own wand, a drop of sweat trickling down the side of his face. When Raymond conjures the curse, what appears in front of Walcott's eyes makes my stomach drop. In the vision it's him, just as he is now—no change in age, appearance or social status. The only difference is . . . he's talking. Sat at the Ravenclaw table, surrounded by a group or friends who are laughing out loud at one of his jokes.

"Oh." Realization dawns on Raymond's face, which instantly grows serious. "Hey, if you don't want to, you don't have to—"

He is cut off by the light that appears on Walcott's wand. Bright enough to vanish the false vision of the Wish-Fulfillment Curse. My jaw drops. Walcott has always been a step ahead of us since he relied solely on nonverbal spells, which even I often find myself struggling with. But the fact he got a counter-curse right on his first try is beyond impressive. Raymond looks at him, eyes agape.

"That was—that was incredible," he says in amazement.

A small smile breaks through Walcott's face, but his hands are still shaking. He clenches and unclenches his right fist, the hand that is not holding the wand. Raymond motions for him to step forward and he does so hesitantly.

"What's your name, dear?"

Walcott brings out a piece of parchment and a short pencil from his pocket. He scribbles down something and shows it to Raymond. The Auror reads it, then glances up at Walcott. His signature grin reappears on his face.

"Wonderful job, Mr. Royce." He pats the boy's shoulder. "I'm probably going to get accused of playing favorites already, but I can't not award ten more points to Ravenclaw. Even accomplished Aurors would struggle to fight that curse so masterfully on their first try—and nonverbally at that too. Brilliant indeed." He turns to address us all. "Your classmate here just demonstrated the perfect level of concentration and willpower you all should aim to achieve in order to perform the spell successfully. Great job again, Mr. Royce. Come see me after class."

Walcott gives him a nod. His hands are not shaking anymore, and his eyes, instead of watery, are now gleaming. He walks to the end of the line. When he passes by, we make eye contact and I offer him a warm smile. He returns it with a bashful one of his own. As he reaches the end of the line, Roxanne gives him a double high-five, followed by a hug. She looks at me over Walcott's shoulder and her eyes narrow. I look away.

The rest of the students aren't as lucky with the spell as the two of them. I don't focus as much on the visions as I do on Raymond. He's ever so patient and encouraging, not once losing his temper or making a snide remark to those struggling more than others. He's extra gentle with the students who start to get frustrated with themselves when they can't get the counter-curse to work.

It's all so different from how professor McBon would teach the class. I find myself liking the change. Ted Raymond is open, supportive and has strong people skills which, I conclude, make him fit to be in a teaching position. But perhaps that's also my skepticism toward professor McBon talking.

When it's Mike's turn, he starts crying at the vision in front of him. It depicts him and his mother—she is alive, an arm wrapped around Mike's shoulder, smiling down at him. It's rare to see Mike cry. I almost want to tell Raymond the curse is too emotionally taxing, but just then, he lowers his wand and dismisses Mike. Tells him it's okay if he's not ready yet, that he understand the curse can be too much to handle psychologically. That his emotional wellbeing takes priority.

That move on his part gains him a great amount of my respect.

Another person that struggles, even worse so than Mike, is Alex. His vision catches me off guard because Polly is in it, holding his hand. On his other side stand Christine and Stella, and Christine is doing something I've rarely ever seen her do: she's smiling.

Vicky's fiancé, his older brother Roger is standing behind him. Telling Alex he's proud of him, that he'll never leave him. His parents aren't in the vision, which startles me. I remember being reluctant to find out Vicky was going to marry Roger because I despised the Forsters. I didn't know Alex felt the same.

Unlike Mike, he doesn't start crying, but he goes so pale and his hand trembles so much he drops his wand. When he picks it up, his face takes on a harsh expression. He gruffly tells Raymond he refuses to face the curse. Raymond only nods in understanding, not pushing it.

When it's Rosalinda's turn, she excuses herself to the restroom. She doesn't return until the end of class. Raymond realizes she did it to avoid having to stand up there and face her deepest wish, but he doesn't get mad. Instead, he says he doesn't want to force someone to face their biggest vulnerability in front of the whole class if they're not ready yet.

I appreciate him for saying that. Not a lot of teachers are this considerate.

"Ms Mayo, your turn!"

I step forward, readying my wand. My heart starts racing. I push my anxiety to a corner of it and bury it there. Raymond flashes a small smile before raising his wand and nonverbally casting the curse.

It takes me a moment to see it. Not because the vision takes time to form, but because I don't get where my deepest wish lies. Until it hits me. I'm holding the Hogwarts graduate diploma, my parents and Vicky standing beside me. Mother kisses my forehead and my stepfather tells me he's proud of me. My beautiful daughter, he says.

My daughter . . . It is then I realize he's not actually my stepfather, but my biological one, and Vicky isn't my stepsister either. I am born a Mayo. The family name is mine by birth, not one I adopt when mother marries my stepdad when I'm two years old.

And my full name is printed on the diploma. Not Isabella. Just Sibi. In this version of reality, I am simply Sibi Mayo. I'm not an Evinnov. My werewolf identity doesn't exist.

"Sibi?"

I must have been staring at the vision hypnotically for a long time because Raymond is snapping his fingers to get my attention. Suddenly aware, I straighten my back. It's difficult to cut my eyes away from the illusion, but I will myself to.

"Assimulaticio," I say firmly.

Nothing happens. I raise the wand, close my eyes to avoid distraction. Clear my throat.

"Assimulaticio," I repeat, louder.

I feel the vibration on my wand before I open my eyes. The spell has worked; the vision is no longer there. I release the breath I didn't realize I was holding. Raymond gives me an approving nod, raising his palm. I smile and walk up to him. Give him a high-five. I don't look at anyone in the eye as I make my way to the end of the line, but I keep my head up.

Nobody knows where my deepest wish in the vision lay, which boosts my confidence. They don't know of my biological father and family. They don't know of my werewolf identity. They don't know what it is about my full name I loathe so much. For all they know, my deepest wish is graduating Hogwarts and having my family there to celebrate with me.

When the class ends, Raymonds dismisses us with no homework other than to practice the counter-curse on our own. A lot of students, even those who appeared skeptical of him in the beginning, seem to feel differently now. They stay behind after class to talk to him. To ask him those burning questions they couldn't care less about earlier. Everybody seems fascinated by the new Auror teacher.

I don't deny it, I find myself thinking the same.

"So, what did you think of him?" I ask Ralph as we exit the class.

He shrugs. "Honestly, I was expecting worse. He seemed decent enough."

I have to agree. "Think he might be one of professor McBon's trusted people?"

"Even if so, now the real question is how much of a trusted person professor McBon herself is."

The point he brings up is fair, but I don't have time to dwell on it as the sound of rushed footsteps makes me turn around. Rena is running toward us. When she's close enough, she throws herself on Ralph's back, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck.

Caught off guard, Ralph loses his balance and they both fall to the ground. Rena lets out a hearty laugh. Ralph just groans in pain.

"Ouch, sis! You could've at least warned me."

"Not my fault your balance is weaker than my attention span, Ral."

I smile and help her to her feet. Ralph shakes the dust off his school robes before standing up.

"Hi, Sibi!" Rena's candid grin instantly drops, like it was never there. Her brows arch. "Listen, I know I've already apologized but I still can't shake off the guilt I feel. I want you to know I'm so incredibly, utterly, endlessly sorry. I'm so so sorry. Everything that's happened is my fault and mine only."

"Rena—" I begin to cut her off.

"I should've never invited them," she goes on, ignoring me. "I should've never trusted them. You know? My friend called me naive the other day. I suppose she's right. I'm so naive, aren't I?" Her big eyes brim with unspilled tears, catching me off guard. "I'll make this right, Sibi, I promise. I promise I'll help you fix things. You'll have my support always and forever, know that. I'm so mad at myself, and regretful and guilty and—"

"Rena." I grab her shoulders. My voice is firm. "I never have and never will blame you. Okay? So stop this. What happened wasn't your fault and this isn't your mess to fix. None of us saw it coming."

She shakes her head, squeezing her eyes as the tears flow down her cheeks. Rena Richards has always been the type of girl to wear her heart out on her sleeve, but it feels wrong to see dejection splayed on her face so openly instead of her usual jubilance.

"Hey Ren," Ralph says gently, approaching her. "If it makes you feel any better, my dumbass asked Maddie out two days before the article came out. So if you insist on carrying guilt, you'll have to share it with me."

Rena chokes out a laugh. "Did she say yes?"

"She said she'd think about it," Ralph said. "Well, jokes on her. Now I won't."

We laugh then. My chest feels lighter. Despite the doubts swimming in my brain and the people that have turned against me, I'm relieved to still have the support of two of my oldest friends.