Existing Into Nothing

By day seven, Hope was restless. 

Closing the last book Newt had given to her about magical creatures, she let out a soft sigh. She could feel her body healing. 

Growing stronger. 

The potions must be working, but thinking about it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a brew. Madam Florence was in a constant state over the fever that never seemed to go away, no matter what tonics she used.

Still, Hope could feel her muscles strengthening. She was growing stronger and knew that, but she felt something was missing. Something she'd been without for so long that her body craved desperately. 

The craving even made her gums ache.

Swinging her legs off the bed, she walked to the long-length mirror and examined herself. Her face was still a bit gaunt, and when she lifted her dressing gown, she could still see some of her ribs stretching through her taut skin. Still, Madam Florence assured her that with the speed at which she was healing, she would be back to how she'd been before the Poachers ever laid hands on her.

Hope paced around the place, playing little games out of boredom. One was not to make the floorboards creek when she stepped. She had been making good progress, testing each area and learning which made a sound and which didn't. That was until she bumped into a chest on the ground, stubbing her pinkie toe.

"Hahhah." She let out a gasp of pain. She lifted her knee up, rubbing her poor pinkie toe, looking the chest over as if it were now an enemy instead of the inanimate object it was. Naturally, curiosity infiltrated her mind, and she opened the trunk to peer inside. 

At first, it looked like the bed gowns she'd been wearing all week, and her excitement deflated, but then she took a closer look. Underneath the hospital attire was actual clothing. Extras, she supposed, how fitting since something she'd wanted to do since having coherent thoughts was to explore the castle.

She couldn't do that in a sleeping gown, now could she?

Smiling, Hope pulled out a deep green dress encrusted with shimmering stones around the bodice that descended into a sheer glitter material below. 

It was pretty but too dressy for what she wanted to do. Hope placed the article back and pulled out a more neutral dress of soft pink and beige. She undressed quickly and slipped the piece on, the silky threads barely grazing the floor at her bare feet. It was tied in the back with a champagne bow, and before she realized it, the dress seemed to take itself in. Fitting to her naturally as if it had been made for her.

Striding back to the mirror, she looked herself over. The sleeves puffed just a little, and the neckline of soft cream lace accentuated her collarbones. For the first time in her memory, she felt…pretty. Pulling a brush through her hair from the bathing materials nearby, she decided this now was a better time than any to explore the castle. 

After all, Madam Florence did say she should exercise, and what better way to move her muscles than to climb the hundreds of staircases this place seemed to have.

Hope slowly pushed the door open and peeked into the hallway, smiling to see no one was there. It wasn't rule-breaking if Hope had been given no rules.

Making her way down the hallway, she followed whichever staircases were closest or seemed most interesting. Her body seemed to be faring well, her legs no longer shaky as they'd been the first time she'd entered the castle.

She continued to wander, examining paintings and listening to distant sounds, which she naturally followed to see what they were. Hogwarts was more significant than she could have ever anticipated. 

More time passed.

She wasn't sure how much or even what the hour was, but it didn't seem to matter that much. Well, until her stomach growled. Hope realized she should have been sitting down to eat lunch by now.

Perhaps she should start trying to find her way back to the hospital wing, she thought as she looked around. She would just do her best to retrace her steps. So, she turned around and started for the staircase she'd just left but stopped. Staring at the place the stairs should have been. Maybe she didn't remember correctly, but she could have sworn she'd just come down a flight of stairs here. 

"Hm…" Hope frowned. Maybe she'd mistaken it. After all, the place was winding with stairs and hallways that led everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. Hope started walking around another bend, thinking the start of the stairs might be there waiting for her. There was one, but it didn't look quite the same.

Hesitating just a moment, Hope began to climb the stairs, legs aching. When she reached the top, she could hear a voice and quickly walked toward it. Maybe it was Newt? She hadn't seen him all day; perhaps he'd just returned to the castle.

It wasn't Newt. 

A Knight was riding his horse through a painting, shouting out. "Be gone! You will not enter through here!"

"Through here?" Hope asked, glancing around.

"Yes! Peasant! You will not enter here!" 

"Okay, well, I'm still going to go this way." Hope nodded and turned to the right, starting down the hall, though it almost looked like a dead end. Was that what he meant? That she wouldn't be able to move on further?

But just as she was about to turn away, a rope ladder fell from above. Inching toward it, Hope peered into what she assumed was another room. The need to know what was up there was too great to deny, so Hope used her remaining strength to pull herself up the ladder. Poking her head through the hole, she peered around the dusty room. Oh, a classroom. Newt had mentioned that Hogwarts was a school. Apparently, young Witches and Wizards would come here to learn how to use their magic, just as Newt had.

Hope wasn't sure what this classroom was used for. Still, it certainly looked interesting with the fluffy floor seating and crystal balls lying about. She pulled herself up the rest of the way - arms shaking- and stood on her feet.

It seemed whoever taught this class was not here at the moment, but it wasn't as though Hope intended to disturb anything. The whole place just fascinated her.

Walking through the area, she observed the rows of different types of loose-leaf teas, cups, and saucers, all neatly put away, though gathering a bit of dust. Newt also mentioned the students wouldn't be back for another month, giving Hope plenty of time to explore undisturbed. 

She came to one of the floor seats where the opaque crystal ball sat and lowered herself to it. Looking it over with searching eyes. Some part of her knew this would be used to see something, but what? Was it more like a mirror or a window?

"Drawn to the art of Divination, I see?" A voice, while familiar, made Hope nearly jump out of her skin.

Looking up, she saw Albus sitting on one of the floor seats nearby as if he'd been there the whole time. Had he? Certainly not; she'd been alone in the room when she entered.

Hope took a breath, trying to steady her heart. "Is that what it's called?" 

Nodding, he smiled and stood. He moved through the cushions to sit on the pillow beside Hope. "It is. It's a tricky art, not always reliable, but those with a keen sight can use it well for their needs."

Hope looked into the ball, where tendrils of gray smoke curled inside.

"Are you in need of anything?" he asked, eyes on the crystal.

Shrugging, she sighed. "I guess I'd have to be. I just don't know what."

"Well, you could always try," he gestured to the ball, "It may even give you some answers."

Hope couldn't help but give him a look. "I'm pretty sure Muggles can't see like that."

"And who's to say who you are if you don't know?"

Frowning, she shook her head as if the answer was obvious. "That's what Madam Florence called me, and everyone who came by to watch me kept using the word."

"I see." He paused, his eyes holding what Hope assumed were secrets. "And what does the word mean to you?"

"Does it mean…a demon that turns into an animal?"

Albus smiled and slowly shook his head. "A Muggle is a term used for people with no magical abilities."

That's what that meant? Hope sighed in frustration because the term she thought she knew to be able to describe herself was not paired with a definition that didn't match.

"And," he continued, "A person who can turn into an animal sounds pretty magical to me." 

"Then why did she call me that if that's not what I am?" 

What am I, then? She wanted to shout but didn't.

"We all make assumptions when under stress. It happens to the best of us." Albus replied, giving a slight hum as he pointed to the crystal ball. Maybe our definition of magic isn't as reliable as we once thought. Like a crystal ball, sometimes we're not given answers, but rather the ingredients to find the answer we need."

"And you think I'll get an ingredient if I touch the crystal ball?" Hope asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. As I said, Divination isn't always clear, and when it seems it is, it can be misleading."

"Hm…" she nodded and looked at the ball. I guess there's no harm in trying." What did she have to lose? She'd already lost all her past memories. 

Reaching forward, she touched the silky smooth texture of the crystal ball and…nothing. There was no glimmer in the ball, not even a wink of changing color.

"See. Nothing. Maybe I'm a defective demon."

Albus chuckled and slowly stood but didn't comment. Changing the subject. "You're welcome to explore the castle, but it can be complicated to learn all at once. I'll send Newt here shortly to help you back to the hospital wing, where I'm sure Madam Florence is not very happy to see her patient has wandered off…"

Hope looked up to see he was giving her a look she somehow knew all too well. One that said, I admire your tenacity, but please keep others in mind before giving in to your impulses. Where had she seen that look before? Certainly not the Poachers, as they only ever sneered at her.

Biting her lip, she slowly nodded; she supposed Madam Florence did deserve some warning before she left the hospital wing. Tasting freedom for the first time seemed too good to pass.

She watched him turn, checking the pocket watch from his tailored gray waistcoat, and walked to the hole in the floor leading to the ladder.

"Newt gave me a book the other day," she said before he had gone down the ladder, "Am I an Animagus? A Werewolf?"

Albus looked at her from the hole in the floor and offered a smile, a glimmer of something in his eyes. Curiosity, maybe?

"Time will tell…" he then nodded to the crystal ball. "Don't be so sure nothing exists simply because it isn't there."

Hope frowned and looked at the ball again, then back to the hole in the floor, but he was already gone. 

What class did he teach anyway? 

101 ways to talk in riddles?

With a deep sigh, Hope leaned back on her elbows and watched the ball and how the insides swirled like gray smoke. It was mesmerizing. Relaxing, even. Hope lost track of time but didn't want to leave before trying again. Maybe Dumbledore was right; perhaps she could find something she needed within the smoke.

Leaning closer, she breathed softly and touched her fingertips along the smooth surface again. This time, however, instead of blank nothingness, a flash of a picture entered her mind. The memory image didn't move; instead, it stayed perfectly still, as if her mind had taken a snapshot of the moment.

"Hope?"

Hope jumped far worse this time than before, causing the crystal ball to drop off its stand on the table and roll away toward the hole in the floor. Newt's head was poking through the spot she'd thought was empty and, fortunately, stopped the ball just in time before it could smash into his face.

Pulling himself the rest of the way through, he picked up the ball and walked toward her. His features pulled into a worried frown.

"Profe- Albus said you might be up here," he carefully set the ball on the stand and sat down next to her, "find anything interesting?"

Hope swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly feeling dry. 

"I saw something." She began, pulling her hands into her lap, not wanting to touch the crystal again. 

The room was silent, Newt patiently waiting for her to continue, but she could see his eagerness to hear from her rising.

"What did you see?" He finally asked.

Looking at him, she chewed on her lower lip. "There was a man in the forest. I think it was a man, he covered his face with a black cloak. I couldn't see his face, but he was looking at me. His wand was pointed at me."

Newt frowned. "Do you know what forest it was?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea, but it did seem familiar. Like I've been there a million times before."

"And they didn't look like a Poacher?"

Hope shook her head again, wringing her hands together. "No, he didn't look anything like them. I know I couldn't see his face, but I think…he was smiling at me."

Again, silence swallowed the room as she contemplated the image she described. Still, neither could come to a definitive answer.

"Well," Newt smiled gently, "we can say something is better than nothing; how about we return to the hospital wing? Madam Florence has been asking for you, saying you must eat and take some tonic."

Hope wrinkled her nose but smiled as she stood, taking his outstretched hand.

"I guess I missed lunch." Her stomach growled as if trying to confirm her assumption.

"Yes, it's nearly dinner. I'd say you must be famished."

She definitely was, and by the time they returned to the hospital wing, the smell of apple cinnamon porridge made her stomach lurch with need.

"Where were you today?" Hope asked Newt curiously as she sat down on the bed, taking a bite of porridge. Well, after a few minutes of being scolded for leaving the hospital wing without any notice from Madam Florence. 

Newt sat beside her, eating the same porridge from his bowl. She knew he'd have more appealing meals downstairs, but he didn't let on that it wasn't a five-star satisfying meal.

"Not that it's my business," she said quickly, earning a smile from him, "It's just…you usually visit."

Nodding, he swallowed another bite. "I made a trip to London. There are more sightings of Poachers in nearby camps in the countryside, and I wanted to gather more details from eyewitnesses."

"That's what you do then? You save beasts from poachers. Like you saved me."

Smiling, he ate more porridge. "While I'm not teaching at Hogwarts as Care of Magical Creatures. You're the… you're the first person I've ever found in a camp before, however."

"I am?" Hope asked with a frown. "I thought there were others too…"

Newt slowly shook his head. "Not that I've seen. Your camp was one of the largest. It took months to infiltrate their headquarters; it's a wonder how they kept you so secret."

"Secret?" 

She hardly ever felt like a secret there. Hope was always on display for entertainment. As grotesque as her best trick was, it intrigued many.

"It seems the dark Witches and Wizards were careful not to let their biggest attraction slip." 

Hope could hear something other than kindness in Newt's voice for the first time.

It was anger. Bitter anger. 

Why did it make her feel just a little better? It felt good knowing someone was angry for her sake.

"I don't understand how people could…" he trailed off and glanced at her. "I apologize. I know this isn't something you'd want to talk about."

Hope shrugged. "It's not something I ever enjoyed, but it happened. If I don't face that now, I'll be unable to face it later."

Finding the words was more challenging than she thought, but she managed. Getting out quickly rather than letting her voice have a chance to betray her.

"I couldn't control how I shifted. I don't know how the Poachers thought I could, but one day, someone came into my cage, and they…" She swallowed past the lump in her throat that she knew wasn't from the hardening porridge. Hope pressed her fingers closer to the bowl as if using its comforting warmth to help her speak. "They made me drink something. 

The first time I drank, it was the worst of all, like my body was ripping itself apart. I thought it would never end. I just wanted…to die. When it did, after what felt like forever, I was a wolf. So they made me do it for special shows. It all happened the same way. Someone would come into the cage and make me drink the potion, and I'd start shifting in front of everyone watching…" 

She paused again, finding her voice after a weighted moment. "I never want to become a wolf again." Hope's voice shook now, and she set the porridge aside, unable to stomach the rest of it.

Just as he had in the carriage, Newt took her hand. Holding it in his as if it were a tether to another life.

"You'll never have to," he murmured, their eyes meeting again as she felt the wet burn of tears pricking her, "I will never let that happen to you again."

For the first time in her remembered life, Hope believed in and trusted a Wizard.