It was another day at Hogwarts.
Since the initial incident with the whole 'Chamber of Secrets' opening, there hadn't been any more. At this point, the teachers were successfully able to redirect the student bodies' focus away from it, so it settled in the background.
At this point, many just thought it was some kind of bad joke.
Which suited the teachers just fine.
And with the recent success of the Dueling Club, the students had much more interesting things to talk about.
Classes continued on as normal.
And as the students entered Medea's class, they saw a piece of chalk writing freely on the board.
The soul is an organ.
For some more of the faint-hearted, this was somewhat of a foreboding tale.
"Alright everyone, get in your seats, chop-chop." Medea clapped her hands. "We're going to jump ahead a bit because we need to cover several different topics before we reach the next major subject. We covered rituals, we covered casting, and we covered the concept of magic. Now, we're going to talk about the soul."
Oddly, despite her classes not being mandatory, they were always full and even sometimes overflowing. In fact, it was a record for a class not part of the normal grading curriculum to have such high attendance.
Her class was not part of the NEWTS or OWLS testing that happened at certain intervals.
Word had spread, and most magical families had all but demanded their children take this class and pass it with flying colors.
Many of them threatened consequences if they didn't listen.
Older families knew the benefit of a witch as old and powerful as Medea teaching a class like this, even if its subject matter was such that it was making many question what they knew about magic.
"Um, Professor." A child raised his hand.
"Yes, you, the… Hufflepuff." Medea acknowledged him.
"Are you saying the soul is real?"
"Child. There are ghosts in the hallways." Medea gave him the most deadpan look she could muster.
"...Oh."
Her lips twitched. "Any other question.
A hand went up.
"Yes, Miss Granger." Medea wasn't good at memorizing so many names, but she at least recognized this one.
"Aren't things related to the soul, Dark?" She asked, knowing that the ministry classifies nearly everything related to the soul as dark magic.
"Miss Granger." Medea took the same exact tone as just a moment prior. "Outside this door, in your school for children, there are ghosts."
That managed to shut Hermione up, much to the giggling of both Harry and Ron, who were seated next to her.
A glare from her made them stop.
"Now, as I was saying. We're going to talk about the soul. What is the soul? And keep in mind that we will be approaching this purely from an academic standpoint. I don't want to hear any of your beliefs or religion." She began to write on the board. "The most basic description we'll use is such: the soul is a record that acts as a blueprint of the body. And what does that mean?"
The class was silent as they watched her continue to write on the board.
"There are three elements that compose what a 'human' is. Mind, Body, and Soul. It is something dependent on the body, not belonging to the same material world. It can be called a higher existence; it's why ghosts can go through walls and why they can't interact with normal matter. Because they currently exist on a higher level."
A hand went up.
"Professor Flitwick." Medea acknowledged him.
"I believe I know the answer, but I wanted to ask. The reason that muggles can't see ghosts….?"
Medea nodded. "A good question for the students since they didn't ask it. If ghosts exist on this supposed 'higher level of existence' and can't interact with the material world, then why is it that you all can see them wandering the halls? Why is it that your 'muggles' can't? The answer is obvious, Magic. Magical energy permeates your body and allows you to peer at these higher mysteries while remaining within the material world."
Medea casually wiped her hands free of chalk dust as she looked around.
She was waiting for questions as they finished writing.
Truthfully, many of them had questions, but it was hard to pose a question properly when given this kind of information.
"Alright, moving on. Now, here's a fact for you all. What is the only existence that is considered eternal in the material world?" She looked around, and she saw Hermione raise a hand. "It's rhetorical. The soul is the only existence that is eternal in our world."
"What does that mean, Professor?" A young girl in Slytherin colors, several years older, raised her hand and asked.
"Hmm. What do you think eternal means?" Medea posed the question.
"Immortal?" The girl answered.
"Not a wrong answer, but it's not right. Technically, the concept of immortality doesn't exist as you know it. Living forever is not a possibility. You can live a very long time, but everything eventually dies." Medea clarified.
She perked up. "Yes, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore was also intrigued as he sat at the back of the classroom.
It had become routine for him to…supervise her classes since what happened before.
"That seemingly contradicts what you just said, does it not? You said souls are "eternal," yet then you say that everything dies."
Despite what many think, Dumbledore actually had no problems with people discussing the more…intricate details of the world.
Things that many may consider 'dark.' What Dumbledore didn't like was unsupervised discussion or ignorant and misinformed spreading of information.
You had to walk the delicate balance of acknowledging facets of the world but also in a way that didn't make your students want to go off and try them.
Perhaps in his old age, he erred a bit more on the safe side, but all the same.
He was young once and delved deeply into the mysteries of the world, as many often did.
"Well, that was touching on a more advanced subject, but I'll cover it briefly. Both statements are true, even if it sounds like a contradiction. Allow me to explain why." They grabbed the piece of chalk and continued to write. "Is it possible to destroy a soul?"
Medea turned around to look at her class as she repeated the question. "Is it possible for one to destroy a soul?"
There were a few hesitant shakes of the head.
"It's entirely possible to destroy a soul. In fact, it's not particular difficult." Her blunt words had many go silent.
The talk of souls in general had many somewhat uncomfortable.
It was an ethereal topic that even in their magic societies, it was something almost taboo or not well understood.
What is a soul?
Where does it come from?
Many questions like this remained unanswered for the longest time.
However, Medea was uncaring.
To her, taboos or societal norms regarding magic and magical research were utterly ridiculous.
"Now, what does that mean when I said that souls are eternal?" She saw that even the teachers were waiting for her to explain, so she continued. "Because, as I said, souls are essentially the blueprint of a person. If you take someone's soul and put it in another body, your soul will begin to overwrite their body to match the blueprint of the soul. If it doesn't collapse first."
Many missed it, but Dumbledore's eyes lit up as if he were enlightened by something.
"What does Death mean? To destroy a soul means to destroy its concept of existence. The same way you can kill a 'person' by destroying their body if they are blown up into a million pieces, your soul can be destroyed. But just like a body leaving behind remnants, the soul breaks into what are called spiritons."
She wrote the word on the board.
"Souls can be measured. They can be calculated. They can be observed. The measurements of these soul particles are, as I said, spiritons." She tapped the board. "And when a soul is destroyed, it turns into spiritons and disperses back to the wellspring that souls originate from. It is a conceptual death, but the bases of a soul remain in perpetuity."
Silence filled the room.
"Miss Medea." Flitwick swallowed. "Are you saying that souls can be…quantified?"
"Of course," Medea answered easily. "How else could they be studied?"
To her it was normal, basic even.
To them, it was like telling them that the sky was actually red, and snakes were a type of insect.
"I hope that answers your question, Headmaster." Medea turned back to him. "If you want to delve into it further, we would have to go over the topic of 'death' and what happens after death and such. Which would take far too long for this lesson, and it's very off topic."
"Um…yes." Dumbledore too was a bit taken aback.
He was currently digesting this new information and trying to reconcile with his own outlook and understanding.
"I believe there's a scientific term for this on the 'muggle' side of it. Matter can be neither created nor destroyed, just changed." Medea added as an afterthought. "It's not far off."
She began to write on the board again, thinking everyone was content.
She missed the vast majority of the class, just staring blankly.
"Now, back on topic. Souls, the blueprint of what is conceptually 'you.' Just like how the body carries with it a 'gene,' your DNA, your soul also records 'you' in a concept. It's why possession is such a poor method of survival."
Dumble's fingers ran through his beard and stilled again. "Pardon? Could you repeat that?"
"Possession?"
"Yes, please."
"It's a poor method of survival. It's mostly used by older magicals that want to try to extend their life. But with each possession, you lose parts of the 'blueprint' that makes up your soul; you slowly lose parts of yourself. A soul rot, if you like. Similarly, this soul rot also affects souls that stay out of a body for too long. There are exceptions, of course." She gestured to the school. "Places with enough magical energy can anchor a soul in a more solid shape and prevent the world from rejecting them."
"Professor." A hand rose.
"Yes, you, Gryffindor."
"So bringing someone back to life isn't possible?"
"That's a good question, but it has a lot of nuance to it. What are the parameters you mean for 'bringing them back to life'? If you mean a recently deceased person who's soul is still available, it's not difficult to remake a body for them. But since it's not their true body, their lifespan won't be very long."
"What if they've been dead for a long time? What if you want to…I don't know, bring back Merlin from the dead?"
Medea let out a huff. "Why anyone would want to resurrect that pompous fool, I wouldn't understand.
"What?" The boy blinked in confusion at that statement, the majority of the class sharing the same sentiment.
Medea ignored it and continued. "What you're proposing is True Resurrection. It's…technically possible, but realistically improbable. To even begin theorizing the steps needed to accomplish something like that you would need…." Medea tapped her chin. "You would need perhaps the equivalent of a thousand Hogwarts's in the department of magical energy, and that's a conservative estimate."
The boy just nodded dumbly, but several students had stopped taking notes while a Hufflepuff student accidentally snapped their quill.
"But it wasn't a bad question, uh…five points to your house." Medea waved her hand, remembering the whole points thing. "You see, the biggest mistake a necromancer usually makes is assuming that the soul is a person."
"Ahem." Dumbledore quickly interrupted.
And thankfully, with his control of Hogwarts, he was able to make the bell ring a few minutes earlier than normal.
"Oh shoot, it looks like we went off topic too much. Alright, I'll assign some reading; I expect everyone to read it thoroughly!" Medea waved around a little booklet she made. "I'll be giving a test on it at the end of the week!"
Medea pouted because she thought her students left her class bored or uninterested.
In truth, many of them had their world views shattered and were having trouble piecing them back together.
Dumbledore was staying behind, keeping a pleasant smile on his face while he watched the students depart.
He had to have another conversation with Medea and ask her not to talk about things like necromancy to students.
"Come on, Harry. It's the perfect time." Hermione nudged him.
"Don't worry, Harry; we're here with you." Ron also supported him.
Harry let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll ask her, okay?"
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, silently casting a spell over himself to hide his presence.
"Um, Miss Medea?" Harry awkwardly came up to her.
He unconsciously shrunk back because she cut an intimidating figure.
Medea turned around to look at him and the two others. "I'm not giving an extension on your homework."
"Um, no! I mean, it's not that." Harry licked his lips. "It's, um…my scar has been hurting, and someone told me that you could help?"
"The curse mark on your forehead?" Medea asked, tilting her head. "If it's hurting, why do you still have it?"
Harry blinked. "What?"
Medea put her hands on her hips. "If it's hurting you, why did someone not remove it yet? Come here…" She gestured for him, and with a silent nod from Hermione and Ron, he stepped forward.
"I was told it couldn't be fixed."
"Whoever told you that is a fool." Medea snorted.
Dumbledore nearly choked but tried his best to remain hidden.
"Who told you to look for me?" Medea asked.
"Um…K-Kunou's…dad? I met him at the train station; he gave me a piece of paper and said it would help with the pain and said to come find you if it still hurt."
"Take the 'paper' out for me." Medea demanded.
Harry reached into his pocket, pulling out the crumpled Talisman.
Medea picked at it with two fingers like she was picking up someone's discarded sock. "Of course, that brat sent you my way. Pawn his problems off on me, huh? Well, I guess I am a teacher."
"It stopped working after a while."
"Of course it did; it's not meant to keep being used. As much as I hate to admit it, he is fairly decent, so his Talisman lasted longer than it should have."
"Professor, you can cure Harry's scar?" Hermione asked.
"Child, who do you think I am? I could have healed this weeks ago if you had asked me." Medea scoffed.
"Really?" Ron's eyes lit up. "You hear that, Harry? She can heal you!"
Dumbledore too was rather astonished by her claims. Cursed wounds like that were not easy to heal, and they almost always left scars like what Harry had on his forehead.
Medea shook her head. "I thought you kept it around intentionally, so I didn't say anything." She grabbed his cheek, tilting his head.
"Why would someone want a cursed scar??" Hermione asked in confusion.
"I can think of ten different reasons off the top of my head, and they almost all end in 'because it makes them stronger.'" Medea responded absentmindedly. "Huh, you got a piece of someone else's soul lodged in here."
"What!? Hermione's shriek drowned out the same exclamation from Harry and Ron.
Even Dumbledore was startled.
He had perhaps theorized the possibility, but to hear it confirmed so simply….
It suddenly confirmed a lot more questions he had that he was never able to answer before.
"There's someone's soul stuck to my forehead!?" Harry was all but hyperventilating.
"The Scar, but I suppose it's the same thing." Medea let go of him.
"C-can you remove it?" Harry looked worried, or rather, terrified.
"Child, I ask again, who am I?" Medea shook her head. "I swear, children these days, they have no respect. I can remove it right now if you want; it won't even hurt. I think. Probably."
"It won't hurt?" Harry breathed out in relief. "I mean… I'll do what I have to, but please remove it."
Medea's expression softened and she patted his head. "You're a brave boy. But don't worry, I can have this settled in a second."
She held her hand up, and suddenly, an ominously shaped dagger appeared in her grip.
"It's just going to be a little prick~"
"Miss Medea—!" Dumbledore immediately revealed himself, stepping forward to stop it.
From his perspective, she was about to stab one of his students in the head with a blade.
"All Spells will be Broken – Rule Breaker!" The words carried weight with him as she swung the dagger before the boy could react.
Just as it made contact with his forehead, there was a loud shriek, a ghastly wail, and a cascade of magical energy exploded outwards from Harry's scar, causing both Hermione and Ron to nearly fall over.
Just as it came, it disappeared.
Harry had closed his eyes, feeling a pulsing and bloated feeling in his forehead, like pushing a splinter out of your finger but bigger and out of his head.
For Harry, it was like he was seeing a new color for the first time. It was like when Hermione had fixed his eyesight on the train and he could suddenly see without glasses, yet everything just seemed brighter.
"What a nasty little thing." Between Medea's fingers was a wriggling mass of inky blackness that gave off an ominous feeling. "Inside you go." She stuffed it inside a glass container, corking it.
The piece of soul bounced around inside, unable to escape.
"Is that…?" Harry breathed out.
"The piece of soul attached to you, or was attached to you." She replied.
The kids weren't idiots; they could guess the soul's owner based on the fact that it was from his scar.
And who famously gave him his scar.
"Here you go, a souvenir." Medea pushed it into Harry's hands. "Now, don't forget to do your reading. And if you're not feeling well, go see the nurse. I can remove the actual scar itself if it doesn't heal on its own, but it should mostly heal~"
She all but shooed them out of the room, leaving the trio of students dumbstruck.
"Harry." Dumbledore stopped him.
"Headmaster," Harry responded blankly.
"I'll take care of that." He held his hand out.
"Alright, Headmaster." Harry handed him the container and soul piece as the trio went on their way.
Dumbledore looked at the retreating back of Harry, then at the container in his hand. Finally, his eyes landed on the teacher in front of him, who was happily cleaning off the chalkboard as if nothing of importance had just happened.
He let out a long sigh.
The year wasn't even halfway over yet, but he knew it was still going to be a long year.
[Line Break]
A/N
Medea: I'm Halping!
Dumbledore: Please stop helping.
Forgot to do this interlude a couple chapters ago, so it's slightly late.
If you want to read 10 chapters ahead or support me, visit my p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / astoryforone
I also have a boosty if you can't use the above under the same name