All the Wrong Choices

This was all happening far too fast for me. One minute I was a (relatively) normal woman teaching astronomy, and the next I was devising a plan with three of my students to save the world. One minute Albus Dumbledore was alive, and the next he was dead. I should have known why he was so desperate to get me on board.

The three students and I had been camping in a tent for the last couple of days. What we were doing here, I don't think any of us knew. We were still trying to string together a plan, still trying to find the missing pieces, and so far we weren't making any progress. I knew I wasn't any help to these kids and, truth be told, I didn't know why I was here or why Dumbledore had deemed me a good helper to these kids.

Yes, I had loved Tom. Yes, he had loved me in return.

That didn't mean anything, and it didn't make a difference.

“Professor?” Harry spoke, bringing me back down to reality.

“Yes?”

“We've decided that we won't be returning to Hogwarts for our seventh year.”

“Yes. I figured as much.”

Harry exchanged a glance with his two classmates before looking back at me. “Uh, before Dumbledore… died, he left us with a bit of information in attempt to steer us in the right direction. I believe that there are four horcruxes remaining.”

“One is possibly a cup once owned by Helga Hufflepuff. The second may be connected to Rowena Ravenclaw. The third may be Nagini – er, Voldemort's snake. And the fourth is a locket that was once owned by Salazar Slytherin. Does any of this ring a bell to you, Professor?” Hermione asked.

I shook my head at the three students.

“Where do you suggest that we start?” I asked.

“Well, we were hoping you could clue us in on that.” Harry said hopefully.

“Useless.” Ron muttered.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Useless,” Ron responded, much louder this time with a lot more emphasis, “This woman is completely and utterly useless. What the bloody hell was Dumbledore thinking sticking us with her?”

“Ron!” Hermione gasped, her eyes wide as saucers.

“You're both thinking the same thing! Admit it!” Ron exclaimed, standing up from his crate and running a hand through his matted hair. “How do we even know we can trust this woman? How do we know she can help us?”

“Dumbledore wouldn't have left us with someone we couldn't trust.” Harry spoke.

“Seems like Dumbledore's judgment is a little cloudy, then,” Ron responded, glaring down at me, “Because Professor Longwood hasn't helped us any since we've been here. Just stares around like a crazy old bat. How do we even know she's sane?”

“Stop it! Now!” Hermione shouted, but it did no use. She was in tears.

Ron stormed away from the camp, leaving the three of us.

“I'm sorry, Professor,” Harry cleared his throat, “That's out of character for him–”

I put my hand up in response, causing Harry to stop talking. “It's been a long past couple of days. His brother's wedding was attacked. We're camping out in the woods with absolutely no leads. And I realize that I haven't been any help to you three. In fact, I agree with most of what Ron said. I don't know why I'm here either.” I stood up from my own crate, albeit not as quickly as Ron had, and walked off down the hallway towards my own small bedroom.

“Professor Longwood–” Harry tried, but gave up as quickly as he started.