Catch The Snitch

A couple days prior, Prof. Dextera had held a Q&A session, and before the session even began, he'd made an offer to teach Martin a few extracurricular subjects, including occlumency. Martin had intended to stay afterward to further discuss his interests and whatever arrangements worked best for the professor, but the session had run late and he risked breaching curfew, so Martin postponed their follow-up discussion.

Presently he was standing near Dextera's office as he mulled over what he would say. Truthfully, he felt like this mentoring would be imposing on Dextera's time, and he didn't want to wear out his welcome by being too ambitious. Then again, Martin had always been an independent learner. Maybe all that was really needed was for the professor to provide or recommend a good selection of books, a study plan, a little coaching through the more challenging portions, and some sessions for practicing occlumency against the professor's legilimency.

But Martin's other principle interest might take just as much, if not more, time--he really had no basis for estimating how much guidance would be needed, because so little information on the subject was available to him.

Deciding there was no point to waiting any longer--another student might preempt him otherwise--he stepped into the doorway to Dextera's office and knocked his hand against the doorjamb. "Sir, do you have a moment?", he spoke up.

No sooner had Martin knocked on the doorjamb than he heard a reply from the professor. “Please, come in.” At the same time, the doorknob turned by itself and the door swung open gently.

Nigel’s office was a deceptively small room. Light streamed in through a single window, illuminating the interior of the office. It was simply furnished: a large workbench that doubled as a work desk dominated most of the room, and behind it, a short cupboard with little mechanical knickknacks lined up on its top. To Martin’s left, an unlit fireplace took up the centre of the wall, flanked by two bookcases full of books, various objects used in his Transfiguration classes, and a number of unidentifiable contraptions. To the other side of the workbench was a closed door that presumably led to Nigel’s private quarters, and hung upon the wall beside it was an astronomical clock with a glass face that allowed one to observe its internal mechanisms. Lastly, a couple of weathered but inviting-looking chairs were arranged before the workbench.

Silhouetted against the light from the window was the professor himself, who was was tinkering with a pocket watch when Martin entered. In contrast to his usually sharply-dressed image, his grey jacket hung from the back of his chair, his yellow and black tartan tie was slightly loosened, and the top button of his crisp white shirt was undone. He still had his waistcoat on, and the cuffs of his shirt were still buttoned up neatly.

Peering through the loupe he was wearing over his right eye, Nigel pointed his wand at the timepiece in his hand, and a focused beam of golden light issued forth. “Have a seat, Mr Bishop,” he said without looking up as he began to inscribe the last set of runes onto the watch. “I’ll be done right about… now.” Checking the watch one last time, he set it aside and took off the loupe. “Coffee, tea, or cocoa?” he asked as he turned around to retrieve from the cupboard behind him a teapot, some plates and cups, and a tin of shortbread – yet another unabashed declaration of his Scottish heritage.

“Make yourself comfortable; this might take a while, if you’re here to ask about Occlumency.” Though Martin had not mentioned the reason why he was here, there was a good chance Nigel’s guess was right, based on what had happened during his Q&A session a couple of days ago. In anticipation of that, over the past days he had prepared a couple of surprisingly light tomes that he hoped would be of interest and use to the student.

Martin had seen Prof. Dextera's office before, though in the past it was always with the intent to discuss transfiguration in some capacity, usually regarding extra credit assignments or to borrow a book for a deeper dive into some aspect of the subject. He was curious as to what the professor was doing with the watch, but he didn't have long to observe before he was invited to sit.

He took a seat and set his bookbag down on the floor beside him, then glanced up to the astronomical clock and watched it tick for a moment. There was something about intricate mechanical things that made them fun to observe. "I'd like cocoa, please," he replied upon being offered his choice of beverage.

"Occlumency would be half of the reason I'm here," he clarified. "Since I showed up unannounced during your regular office hours, I wasn't expecting an actual lesson--I wouldn't want to deprive other students of their right to meet with you. But I hoped we could at least figure out an arrangement for how this could work, or perhaps you could suggest something for me to read as an introduction to the subject."

He paused for a moment as he worked up the courage to continue, because he felt like he was asking too much of his professor. "...And the other reason I'm here is because I also have an interest in becoming an animagus, which as far as I know, is just as challenging an endeavor, and I was hoping you could provide similar guidance, or at least point me in the right direction. There's not much material on the subject in the library's regular stacks, and I can only assume that's because self-transfiguration in general is inherently dangerous and best approached with caution."

He looked up to gauge Prof. Dextera's expression. "I'll understand if you think I should only tackle one of these at a time," he was quick to add. "I realize that seeking help with either goal individually is already asking a lot from you."

“Just a moment please,” Nigel replied as he gathered the ingredients and items he required, and set them down on the table. Filling up two small metal flasks – one with milk and the other with water – he heated them magically, before adding in cocoa powder slowly into the hot milk while an enchanted stirrer whisked the mixture.

“By any chance are you interested in horology?” he asked, noting with amusement at how Martin had taken a moment to observe the clock in his office. Given the large number of complications it had, even he had to admit that it was rather captivating to watch. “A rather niche field of study, I must confess, but one that is surprisingly useful. But I digress.”

As Martin mentioned that Occlumency was only half the reason why he was here today, Nigel paused for a brief moment as he ran through a mental list of what else the Ravenclaw might be interested in learning that would be under his purview. Maybe horology... or does he want to be an Animagus? he wondered as he put in a scoop of tea leaves into the flask of hot water. As it turned out, it was indeed the latter. Truth be told Martin didn't strike him as one who would be in becoming an Animagus, although in hindsight that shouldn't have came as a surprise. After all, while most Animagus had picked up the art for practical reasons, a minority chose to do so simply to further their knowledge and understanding of transfiguration, and what better way to do so than to learn one of the most unusual and rare forms of transfiguration?

Martin also voiced out his concerns about picking up the two notoriously difficult subjects. Nigel’s brow furrowed in concentration as he considered how best to help Martin with this endeavour. Already a lesson plan was forming in his head, and he mentally refined it while he added to the other flask some sugar, a bit of vanilla extract, and a pinch of salt – vital for balancing out the flavours, as he had learnt from a friend of his – before pouring it out into a large cup.

“We definitely won’t be able to have a proper lesson today, since there’s already plenty for us to discuss,” he said as he topped the hot cocoa off with some marshmallows, and set the cup down before Martin along with the plate of shortbread. “Please, help yourself. And to address your concern: while it is difficult to learn how to become an Animagus and an Occlumens at the same time, it is entirely possible, and that is actually I would recommend to you as well.”

His tea had steeped for long enough, so he poured it out into his cup, followed by a splash of milk and a sugar cube. “It normally takes a few months for one to become an Animagus” he explained as he took a sip of his tea. “But we’re not talking about months of intensive training or studying. Despite being a form of transfiguration, becoming an Animagus requires you to open your heart to yourself, rather than sharpening your mind.”

Nigel watched Martin’s expression carefully as he said the last sentence; this might be news to the student, and he needed to know if the boy felt confident enough to take on the challenge. Martin was right: self-transfigurations were generally dangerous, but the risks associated with becoming an Animagus were on a different level. It involved the awakening of a second and more primal mind within the self, and any hesitation or slip in focus could result in a botched transformation that was nigh impossible to reverse, with the primal mind partially or completely taking over, and the physical body mutating into a half-human, half-animal hybrid.

“That also explains why there isn’t much literature on the subject,” he continued. “Because every witch and wizard experiences the process differently, books can only offer a limited amount of insight. Thus it is best to have a mentor who can guide you along the way.” Nigel would also need to monitor Martin’s mental state during the entire process to ensure that he was ready for his first Animagus transformation. “A few minutes after class should suffice, but don’t hesitate to drop by at my office if you need any assistance. As an Animagus-in-training, you will be given priority over other students.”

“There is another reason why it takes so long for one to become an Animagus. The process is more akin to a ritual, and certain steps can only be completed when the full moon is out or when lightning appears in the sky. Bear in mind that you will need to restart the entire ritual if the required weather conditions are not met. This alone can drag out the entire process by a few months.” Retrieving the pocket watch that he had been tinkering with earlier, he handed it over to Martin. “This pocket watch will help you keep track of the phases of the moon and the weather, amongst other things. I’ll have to calibrate this further, and I'll also show you how to use it as well.”

With that, he allowed Martin some time to digest the information and clarify any doubts that he might have before he moved on to talk about Occlumency.

Martin nodded patiently as Prof. Dextera prepped the drinks.

"Not horology per se, at least not yet," Martin answered. "I think the mysteries of time are probably beyond me as yet--it's certainly not something I can experiment with currently. But there's something deeply satisfying about watching the inner workings of a precision machine. Sometimes I wonder if one couldn't make a rudimentary mechanical computing device that uses runes and charms to perform calculations, instead of electricity--I imagine something like that would be no less captivating to watch."

"Thank you," he said as he took his cup and a piece of shortbread.

"I anticipated there would be a degree of introspection to the animagus process, since it seems one's animagus form usually reflects their personality traits," Martin said. "I'm aware some Native American tribes use induced hallucinations to discover their animal totems. Is that one of the methods that prospective animagi use?"

He sipped his cocoa and nodded along as he soaked up everything Prof. Dextera exposited.

He set his cup down to accept the timepiece and studied it curiously. "Thank you, I expect this will be very helpful." He thought for a moment. "Do you have any literature to help me get into the right frame of mind to begin the process? Something along the line of meditation techniques, perhaps?" He noted that Dextera seemed to be quite familiar with the process, aside from being the Transfiguration teacher. "If you don't mind my asking, are you an animagus yourself, sir?"

In Nigel’s opinion, horology wasn’t that difficult… but he had been among the most well placed individuals within the entire wizarding community in Britain to pick up and master that field of study, and his opinion was definitely skewed in that regard. Still, he could see the potential in Martin. “That would not be difficult at all, and such systems do exist as well,” he replied. “Be it mechanical, magical, electronic or hybrid systems, they are all captivating in their own ways. But in my opinion, purely mechanical systems are still the most inspiring because of their elegant solutions to usually complicated problems.” The proof of the pudding was in the eating, or in this case, the proof of Nigel’s point lay in the ornate astronomical clock in his office. Not a single cog in it was enchanted, but yet it could tell the day and time, show the position of the stars, and even predict eclipses based simply on the the simple principle of gear ratios.

Despite his claims that there wasn’t much material on the subject in the library, Martin had found quite a fair bit of information about Animagi, as he mentioned the methods used by some Native American tribes to learn of one’s Animagus form. “Yes, indeed,” Nigel nodded, impressed that the boy had managed to uncover this nugget of information. “I must emphasise, however, that the only way to confirm one’s Animagus form is to actually transform into it. One may glean certain insights about their animal totem, but these are open to interpretation and will undoubtedly be easily coloured by one’s subjective viewpoint.” Returning back to the topic of practices employed by Animagi-in-training, he continued, “Many other communities in the world have a more developed Animagus culture than us, and consequently their traditions and practices associated with the art are much more advanced. Many of these practices are closely tied to other rituals or even their lifestyles, and consequently few Animagi-in-training in Europe, if any, employ such practices even though they are used widely by other cultures.” He leaned forward in his seat and steepled his fingers as he pondered over whether it would be useful for Martin to adopt such practices. “That’s not to say we can’t adopt or draw inspiration from some of these practices, but we will need to study them and determine which ones are suitable for you.”

Based on his personal experience as a Transfiguration professor, as well as anecdotes that he had heard, it wasn’t always a good thing for an Animagus-in-training to learn of their animal form prior to their first transformation. Unlike the aforementioned communities with a stronger Animagus culture, most European wizards and witches did not hold all animals in equal regard, and certain animals forms were seen as inferior or undesirable. That was an unhealthy mindset for an Animagus-in-training, especially those who would attempt a fool’s errand to alter their Animagus form if they felt that it was not what they wanted. “Have you ever wondered about what your Animagus form might be?” he asked plainly. “What would you do if your Animagus form was drastically different from what you wanted or expected?”

Martin asked if there was any literature to get him started, and indeed there was: Nigel had put together some readings for any student who expressed interest in becoming an Animagus. Pointing his wand at the bookcase beside the fireplace, the professor summoned to his hand a thick leather-bound tome. “You wouldn’t find this in any library,” he said as he handed it over to Martin. “This is a compilation of book excerpts, research papers, personal insights from various Animagi, and some of my own notes. It details the process of becoming an Animagus, as well as some of meditative exercises, good practices and tips.”

The book was divided into several parts. The first – which was surprisingly short – detailed the full process of becoming an Animagus, starting from the holding of a single mandrake leaf in one’s mouth, until the final stage where one would transform for the first time. The second part was a collection of methods from various cultures, ranging from meditation to trances and even ritual dances. But what all of these myriad methods had in common was the clearing of one’s mind and accessing one’s subconscious to help one attune to and awaken the animal form within. The third section dealt with the preparation required at various stages of the process, such as the brewing of a special potion, and the considerations involved when selecting the locations where one would store the crystal phial containing the transformation potion, and where one would perform their first transformation. The last and final part was the most practical of them all: it contained tips that would be immensely useful to an Animagus-in-training, such as navigating the inconveniences of carrying a leaf in their mouth for an entire month, and ways to test if a location had been touched by sunlight or human feet for the past seven days.

“I hope you will find the book useful, both in your quest to become an Animagus, and to further your knowledge in transfiguration. As you might already know, the process of becoming an Animagus is largely independent, especially during the stage in the ritual where you need to recite the incantation twice a day,” Nigel said. “But rest assured, I will follow up closely with you on your progress. Feel free to drop by at my office whenever you need any help; my door is always open, figuratively.”

Indicating the pocket watch that was now in Martin’s possession, Nigel began to explain its functions. “Apart from the book and my guidance, I hope you will find this pocket watch helpful as well.” If Martin were to flip open the casing, he would find within it various dials that would provide him with all the information he would need. “It can assist you in keeping track of when the sun rises and sets, the weather outside, the phases of the moon, and how long more you’d need to hold the mandrake leaf in your mouth.”

Finally, Nigel moved on to a much more mundane and practical concern: the acquisition of the potion ingredients. “As for the potion ingredients that you will require, you can seek out the Herbology professor for the mandrake leaf. You’ll probably need more than one, so don’t be afraid to ask for another leaf should you require it. Don’t worry about the rare ingredients such as the moth chrysalis; I will procure one on your behalf.”

Throughout the conversation Nigel was wondering if Martin would ever ask a particular question… and sure enough it came up. “I am not an Animagus,” he revealed candidly. “I did consider picking up the art myself, but my study of horology ironically left me with little time for other pursuits. But don’t worry: it does not take an Animagus to teach another.” Admittedly, there were benefits to learning from an Animagus, but considering how rare Animagi were in the British Isles, most Animagi had mastered the art under the tutelage of a non-Animagus.

If such machines were buildable, and indeed had already been built, then of course a former Unspeakable would be aware of them. Martin supposed that somewhere, some Potions Master was using a machine to sift through ingredient reaction tables, to speed development of new potions and push the boundaries of magic. "Perhaps someday I'll build a machine to automate tedious Arithmantic calculations, and use it to predict fluctuations on the Goblins' stock exchange, fast enough for me to act upon the results," he half-joked. He could take inspiration from Charles Babbage's Difference and Analytical Engines, but that would all have to wait until some future time when he had fewer demands and more resources to work with. He was already stretching himself thin.

"There's something appealing about the prospect of studying what other wizards have done, and using their experiences to plot my own Animagus journey," he observed. "So much of what we learn has to be repeated precisely for it to work--there's no sense of adventure in replicating what other people have done exactly. Already I can see how difficult it's going to be to balance my studies so I don't get carried away with this at the expense of other things."

"I've been curious as to what I'd turn into, of course. I admit I've been hoping that discovering my animagus form would reveal some insight about myself that I've never considered before, though I suspect if I do learn anything along those lines at all, it's not going to be anything profound. It'll probably be something mundane like 'oh, that behavior is consistent with your form according to Aesop's Fables' or some-such." He frowned. "I admit there are a lot of forms that I'd find disappointing, but at the very least, my form could still be useful as a disguise, or possibly grant some minor ability that will help me at some point in my life. The journey will be worth it if only for the challenge."

Martin accepted the book with reverence. "A scrapbook of sorts?", he said as he opened it to a random page. "This must've taken years to assemble...there seems to be enough material to publish your own book. I'm sure it will prove invaluable." Between the book and the watch, the promised potion ingredients, and the privileged access to consult with Prof. Dextera, it seemed Christmas had come early, even if Martin was asked to return the book and watch once he was done with them. He wondered what he'd done to deserve such a lucky break. He closed the book in his lap and felt himself overcome with emotion for a moment. "Sir, I...I don't know what to say to all this. The customary 'thank you' feels woefully inadequate."

He knew then and there that he'd have to do something special for Prof. Dextera to thank him properly, but for now, he hadn't the foggiest clue what that might entail.

Martin’s idea about an automated calculator to predict fluctuations on the stock exchange seemed pretty sound. While it would undoubtedly prove to be a challenging endeavour, it was still a worthwhile pursuit. Furthermore, given how resistant to change the wizarding community was, Nigel estimated that there weren’t too many hybrid machines out there that could boast a similar level of complexity, and likely only a small percentage of them were being put to proper use. “If you’re keen on pursuing that, you might want to have a word with Professor Sigma,” he suggested. “I trust that I need not remind you to develop your idea into something more substantial and look into its viability first before approaching her,” he added, recalling the trepidation he had felt as a student whenever he sought Professor Sigma out for advice. Even today, he was still a little afraid of her despite being her colleague.

The professor nodded slowly as Martin spoke about how he was looking forward to plotting his own journey as an Animagus, but narrowed his eyes just a wee bit in concern when the student mentioned that there was no sense of adventure in replicating what others had already done. “The path to becoming an Animagus is an adventure like no other, I assure you,” Nigel said. “Because the process is so intimate and personal, no two Animagi can claim to have had the same experience.” He took another piece of shortbread and a sip of tea before he continued. “I must say, however, that not every learning journey will be as exciting. Everybody wishes to break new ground and become a pioneer in their field, but few are willing to walk down an old path to review someone else’s work and confirm its veracity.” Indeed, such boring work had been a significant part of his work back when he was an Unspeakable, and each and every hypothesis had to be rigorously tested before they could be accepted as a theory. And even then, an established theory could still be disproved if new discoveries were made further down the road. “It is something that scholars often overlook in their pursuit for knowledge, not realising that one can only scale to greater heights with solid footholds and handholds.” As he recalled the years he had spent on such thankless work, he couldn’t help but give a wry smile. “Admittedly it will feel like a chore most of the time, but I hope that you will come to appreciate its importance.”

He listened intently when Martin replied to his question about how his potential Animagus form. As the boy had rightly pointed out, a wizard’s Animagus form was a reflection of their personality, and one could learn something new about themselves when they discovered that their Animagus form was something they had not anticipated. Fortunately Martin seemed to be able to look upon an unexpected Animagus form more positively than some of his past students, but Nigel still made a mental note to monitor this issue closely. “Successfully becoming an Animagus is a reward in and of itself, no matter what your Animagus form is,“ he said, concurring with the student’s views. “Regardless, no Animagus form is superior or inferior to others. Furthermore, any connotations associated with it is but one facet of the Animagus’s personality, rather than a representation of their whole self.”

Martin wasn’t wrong when he guessed that Nigel had spent years compiling the information in the book; the professor had started his research back when he was still a student, and every year he would update the book with any new materials he came across. “Except I can’t publish it,” he laughed. “Not legally anyway. I can only reproduce the materials in this book for academic purposes.” Nonetheless, Martin’s words sparked an idea in his mind. “But I suppose I could write a book,” he mused aloud. He was already conducting his own studies on the subject, and a book could be a useful resource for others who wished to become an Animagus, or were curious about the art.

Nigel shook his head when Martin said that he didn't know how to thank him. “It is my professional duty as a professor and my personal obligation as a fellow student of magic to guide you along in your learning journey,” he replied. “The best way you can thank me would be to successfully and safely”—he placed extra emphasis on that word—“become an Animagus.”

There was still much they had to discuss about Occlumency, but as Nigel picked up his teacup, he found that it was already empty. Reaching for the tin of tea leaves behind him, he prepared to brew himself a second batch of tea; while it was possible to duplicate food and drinks, Nigel never fancied doing so. “More cocoa and shortbread?” he asked Martin. Referencing an old joke that had originated from an old radio show, he added in jest, “Let it never be said that us Dunediners”—he was using the obscure but proper term for a native of Edinburgh—“are a miserly lot lacking in hospitality.”

"Given how many other challenging things I want to tackle, I might never get around to the stock market prediction system," Martin conceded. "I really should prioritize based on what's most achievable, what's of most benefit, and what my current access to the Hogwarts staff and library can help me with the most." As much as he'd like to stay forever, he knew he'd have to leave Hogwarts someday. At least, assuming he didn't become a teacher himself.

"I'm sure I'll learn a lot in the process--both about transfiguration in general and perhaps about myself, so I've no doubt the effort will be worthwhile regardless," he agreed when Prof. Dextera mentioned it could be a chore. He did, at the moment, favor a land-based animal over a water-based one, though he knew he'd have no choice in the matter, so it was best not to dwell on it.

"I do appreciate all the help even if you do see it as an obligation on your part," Martin said. "Especially as you've been so receptive, accommodating, and encouraging."

"Yes, please," he assented to more cocoa and shortbread. He had to admit he was really enjoying spending time as a guest in Dextera's office. He made a mental note to bring some sweets from home with him at the end of Christmas break, to share with his favorite professor.

"I'll have to work out a proper studying schedule lest I get carried away," Martin commented as he flipped through Prof. Dextera's scrapbook while waiting for more cocoa. "Otherwise I'd probably read things like this late into the night instead of going to bed on time. I know some Ravenclaws who habitually do that, much to their detriment."

Nigel listened as Martin admitted that he might not choose to further look into the stock market prediction system (and that was perfectly fine), and how he was certain he would learn much about transfiguration and himself in his journey as an Animagus. He had always liked Martin for his focus and clear sense of purpose, especially since it was a trait that most students lacked. As such it felt a little strange for Martin to thank him for being accommodating and encouraging, when it should have been the other way round. “Give yourself some credit too; there is only so much we professors can do if our students only put in the minimal amount of effort,” he said. “It’s always a joy to have students who are as proactive about learning as you, and we are more than happy to help in any way we can.”

Pouring himself another cup of tea, Nigel proceeded to prepare another serving of hot chocolate and shortbread for Martin as the student leafed through the book. “Aye, that would be ideal,” he replied when Martin said that he would probably neglect his sleep. “It’s never too early to cultivate good habits and take care of your health. I’m only in my early thirties but I’m already starting to feel the effects of my poor habits. Backaches and insomnia, just to name a few.” Just then, the hot chocolate was done, and he poured it out into a cup. “A sharp mind can and will be held back by an unhealthy body,” he noted, as he added some sugar, vanilla extract and salt into the hot chocolate as before, and set the cup before Martin. “I can’t overstate the importance of having adequate sleep, especially if you want to learn Occlumency.”

Like becoming an Animagus, it wasn’t easy for one to learn Occlumency, though the challenges involved were vastly different. “We’d be needing two extra lessons on Occlumency every week, ideally three days apart from each other,” he said, continuing on from his earlier segue into the topic. As he spoke, he looked across the office at the bookshelf, wondering if he had any resources that would be helpful, before deciding against it. “I feel it’s better not to burden you with even more readings, so in place of that I shall offer a brief introduction to Occlumency.”

With that, he launched into a quick lecture on the subject. “Doubtless you already know that Occlumency is the art of guarding the mind against external penetration,” he began. “There are several ways in which an Occlumens can achieve that. But before I go any further, I’d like to you to consider the following hypothetical situation.” It would be good to get a sense of how Martin would approach the problem, and what his present understanding of Occlumency was like. “Say, for instance, you have a box inside a room, and someone else wishes to break into the room to steal that box. Assuming that the box cannot leave the room, how would you prevent that person from stealing the box?”

"What days would be the least inconvenient for you?", Martin asked when Prof. Dextera suggested two occlumency lessons per week. "I've no doubt my schedule is far more flexible than yours."

Martin sipped his fresh cup hot cocoa as he puzzled over the problem in his mind. "Assuming there's nothing I can do to disguise or otherwise hide the box, the first thought that comes to mind is to confuse the thief by creating alternative boxes, boxes that look enticing but contain nothing of real value. Perhaps disinformation, or traps, or something else that will distract them for as long as possible." He paused. "I presume you have something akin to a false memory in mind? Or even a falsified identity? Fabricated details of a plausible alternative version of me?"

Without needing to check his desk calendar, Nigel already knew that Tuesdays and Thursdays were comparatively less packed for him. Subconsciously he fiddled with a plain silver ring that he was wearing, as he was wont to do when he was deep in thought, while he rearranged his schedule in his head. “Mondays and Thursdays,” he said finally. “Does that work for you?”

The professor pursed his lips as he considered Martin’s take on the box-in-the-room problem. Interestingly, the student had chosen to discount the possibility of disguising or hiding the box. It was among the most straightforward thing to do, though it did leave much to be desired in terms of its effectiveness. Nonetheless, when used in conjunction with other methods, it was still a viable option.

In his answer, Martin also raised the idea of creating distractions to delay the hypothetical box thief, as well as the use of false memories, to which Nigel nodded. “Indeed. As compared to a Legilimens, an Occlumens is often seen as being at a disadvantage. Whereas a Legilimens can specialise in and continuously refine a single mode of attack, an Occlumens must anticipate and prepare for every possibility and eventuality, including having a Legilimens successfully break into our minds.”

“The more tools we have at our disposal, the more ways we have to safeguard the knowledge and memories in our minds,” Nigel continued. “The use of distractions – as you have mentioned – is a good way to delay a Legilimens until they give up, or until help arrives and the Legilimens is forced to withdraw. Disinformation misleads a Legilimens into believing that they’ve gotten what they require, such that they will withdraw voluntarily and act upon the incorrect knowledge.”

There was one more aspect of Occlumency that Martin hadn’t mentioned. “There is also a considerably simpler method: building up as tough a mental shield as one can muster. This should form the first line of defence for every Occlumens regardless of their skill level, even though it would prove ineffective against most Legilimens harbouring ill intents.”

“I would not delve too deeply into each of these methods just yet, but we will cover them in due time,” Nigel said, before circling back to the way Martin had approached the box-in-the-room scenario. “I’m curious about something you mentioned earlier. You said that you assumed that you couldn’t disguise or hide the box. Is there a reason why you made those assumptions?”

"I can easily accommodate Mondays and Thursdays," Martin readily agreed. "If I were a procrastinator, Thursday would be more of a challenge since so many teachers have essays due on Fridays, but I prefer to get such things done at the first opportunity."

He blinked when Prof. Dextera questioned him as to why he'd discounted those particular options. "Perhaps it was a poor choice of words on my part. Barricading the room, or hiding or disguising the box would be the obvious first choice if I had the ability to do so, but I expected those options to be relatively difficult; I anticipated that if I answered one of those things, you'd follow up by asking what I'd do if those options weren't available to me," he clarified. "After all, creating a false memory doesn't seem to require much effort, so it would probably be something you'd suggest that I practice sooner in my training."

He paused to formulate why he thought those options would be difficult. "Barricading the room, or blocking the intrusion completely, would require understanding every technique the invader might use, and how to counter each of them, which would only come after prolongued study."

"My intuition is that disguising the box, or rather the memory, would necessitate modifying the memory to some extent, such as by replacing words in a private conversation with coded language, which only I could properly interpret. But a more extensive modification, such as substituting different individuals or circumstances...that could cause me to become confused as to what's authentic and what's fabricated. It just feels like a more advanced technique that I could only apply with caution and a lot of training."

"As for hiding the box...that also felt relatively difficult, because at the moment I can't imagine how that analogy would work. Perhaps because I don't visualize memories as existing in a physical space, like books in a library? If I wanted to hide a memory of this conversation we're having, would hiding it entail moving the memory somehow, as if it had occurred at a much earlier point in time, a time period that I anticipate an invader would not be interested in, such as before I'd ever learned to speak?"

After Martin confirmed his availability, Nigel made a quick note on his calendar to reserve the time slots for the student’s Occlumency lessons, along with a reminder to borrow the Pensieve. It would be helpful for Martin if he had a sense of what the process of mind reading looked like from a Legilimens’ point of view.

The student explained in detail that the Occlumency equivalent of barricading the room, or hiding or disguising the box was – in his opinion – relatively difficult. “Your analysis is largely correct,” Nigel said with a nod. “Contrary to popular belief, blocking out a Legilimens is much more nuanced than a straighforward contest of wills, and I am glad you are cognisant of this.” He took a sip of his tea before resuming his explanation. “A castle can be breached in various ways, and so too can the mind. While it is difficult, it is nonetheless an integral part of Occlumency, and it is the most effective defence against weaker Legilimens. In fact, we will be covering the basics during the second lesson. We will come back to this in future lessons, and you will understand why I’ve compared the mind to a castle.”

“As for disguising or hiding one’s memories…”—he steepled his fingers as the hint of a guileful grin hovered above his lips—“they are challenging to execute and have their own shortcomings. Which is why we should always combine them with other techniques, some of which you have already mentioned earlier.” The former Unspeakable’s eyes glinted almost deviously; perhaps in the past he had successfully guarded the secrets held in his mind against a Legilimens with a clever combination of tricks. “Distractions, disinformation, red herrings, garden paths… the list goes on.”

The last vestiges of his sly grin faded away as he continued. “Note that these techniques will only come into play when a Legilimens has broken through our first line of defence. And that is when the true battle begins. Once the Legilimens has entered our minds, we will utilise these techniques to turn the tables against the Legilimens. Remember that, as the Occlumens, we will always have the home advantage.”

With that, he paused to allow Martin some time to process all the information, and clarify any doubts that he might have.

Martin nodded as Prof. Dextera confirmed some of his intuition about occlumency, pleased to have been on the right track with his answers.

"Regarding your castle metaphor, if we were to imagine Hogwarts itself as representing someone's mind... in addition to the battlements, portcullises, and such that represent barriers to entry, it also has false walls, trick doors, secret passageways, and a dungeon--things that I imagine also have some analogues in occlumency. The portraits could even represent memories, whether authentic, doctored, or completely fabricated."

"I'm reminded of that persistent rumor that always gets told to first-years to scare them, that some student long ago died of starvation because they went wandering in the dungeons alone and became irretrievably lost among too many twisty passages that all looked alike--that could represent a trap to waste a legilimens' time."

He shifted in his seat and pondered the last thing Prof. Dextera had said.

"I gather that an ideal defense will require adapting to the intruder, preferably in a way that doesn't tip them off that we've noticed them, but that requires that we're able to notice them in the first place...when someone attempts legilimency on us, what does it feel like? Is it like zoning off and having random memories come to our recollection?"

Martin’s interpretation of the castle analogy was detailed, as expected, and Nigel nodded encouragingly as the student shared his thoughts on how the some of the features of Hogwarts Castle could correspond to various Occlumency techniques.

The student then raised an important question on what it felt like when a Legilimens attempted to break into one’s mind. “Generally speaking, you will experience a sense of unease,” Nigel explained, “similar to what you might feel if someone were to be staring intently at you, or standing uncomfortably close to you.” That was usually the first sign of a mental attack, though some Legilimens were skilled at masking their presence. “It is quite imperceptible sometimes, so you might only realise that a Legilimens is attempting to read your mind when you start having unusual thoughts, or when you abruptly recall old memories out of the blue. As you might have surmised by now, the surfacing of these thoughts and memories to the fore of your consciousness is due to the Legilimens ‘rummaging’ through your mind.”

Glancing at the astronomical clock that hung on the wall of his office, Nigel realised that he had spoken for a bit longer than he had expected; he was only supposed to give a brief introduction to Occlumency and becoming an Animagus, but it was so easy to get carried away when he was talking about topics that were of great interest to him. Having covered everything he had planned to (and much more), he asked, “Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

Martin nodded when Prof. Dextera answered his question and the answer was something he could relate to, making it feel intuitive, though it did make him wonder whether anyone had ever attempted legilimency on him in the past.

He glanced up to the clock and realized he should probably get back to his dorm. "Perhaps we should call it for the day. You've given me plenty to digest--both literally and figuratively--and I'm sure I'll have more questions once I mull over our conversation and start reading your materials. Thank you for your time and insight, and for the cocoa and shortbread," he replied.