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Hogwarts: Hollow Knight Professor
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The world beyond the veil—or the border between life and death—was always wrapped in mist that never quite lifted.
Sirius watched the black cat curl its tail around the silver strands of memory it had just pulled from his mind.
He had no idea what his god was about to do, so he stood perfectly still, so nervous he didn't even know where to put his hands.
As he watched, the black cat's tail shot straight up and its whiskers trembled, like it was fighting some powerful urge.
Sirius almost laughed. Probably fighting the urge to eat my memories. Or maybe just the natural cat instinct to play with string?
The thought slipped out before he could stop it and he chuckled.
The black cat turned to him instantly.
"It really is… misty everywhere around here…" Sirius blurted, freezing up. He pretended to be fascinated by the fog, looking left and right like he was extremely busy.
The words sounded stiff even to him. Talking about mist in the Borderland was like talking about "fresh country air" in the middle of a farm—pointless and obvious.
The black cat ignored him and wrestled its feline instincts back under control.
"Come with me, Mr. Black," it said.
Sirius snapped to attention like he'd been shocked, then hurried to the cat's side. Together they sank into the memory.
Falling… falling… still falling…
After a stretch of weightlessness that felt both too short and too long, the man and the cat landed in a place they both knew well.
—The Great Hall at Hogwarts.
The black cat stood on Sirius's shoulders in the center of the hall, but this version wasn't quite the Hogwarts it remembered.
The four long house tables were gone. In their place were more than a hundred small desks all facing the same direction. Students sat at every one, heads bent, scribbling frantically on rolls of parchment.
The room was dead quiet. The only sounds were the scratch of quills and the occasional rustle of someone straightening their scroll.
It was obviously an exam.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, catching the lowered heads and turning the hair into shades of ash-brown, auburn, and gold.
The black cat scanned the room carefully.
Young Sirius and James had to be here somewhere… this was his memory…
"Five minutes left!" a voice suddenly called.
The black cat turned. Professor Flitwick's head—much younger—was bobbing between the desks.
Flitwick walked past a boy with wildly messy black hair… very messy black hair…
The Sirius beneath the cat's paws stiffened, then began to move.
He moved fast—if he'd had a solid body he probably would have knocked over half the desks.
Instead he seemed to glide, dream-like, cutting across two aisles and sliding down a third.
The back of that messy-haired boy's head grew closer… and now the boy was sitting up straight, setting down his quill, pulling the parchment toward himself to reread his answers…
Sirius stopped in front of the desk and stared down at James.
Then his eyelids dropped and he turned away, trembling.
The black cat looked at the boy who was like a slightly off-version of Harry.
James's eyes were light hazel, his nose a little longer than Harry's, and there was no scar on his forehead. But they shared the same lean face, the same mouth, the same eyebrows.
James's hair was exactly like Harry's—sticking up at the back—and his hands were Harry's hands.
James gave a huge yawn, ruffled his hair until it was even messier, then glanced at Professor Flitwick. He twisted in his seat and flashed a grin at the boy four seats behind him.
The boy four seats back—young Sirius—grinned back and shot James a thumbs-up.
Young Sirius lounged in his chair like he owned the place, tilting it back on two legs. He was ridiculously handsome, black hair falling artfully across his forehead.
A girl sitting behind him was watching him with open longing. He didn't seem to notice.
Two seats over in the same row, the black cat recognized young Remus Lupin.
He looked pale and exhausted.
Must be close to the full moon, the cat thought.
Remus was completely focused on the exam: rereading his answers, tapping the end of his quill against his chin, frowning slightly.
And finally, a small boy with mousy gray hair and a pointed nose.
Wormtail. He looked anxious, chewing his fingernails, staring at his paper, feet scuffing the floor.
Every few seconds he shot a hopeful glance at the scroll on the desk next to his.
The black cat placed a paw beside Sirius's ear and gently turned his head away. Sirius's eyes had gone red; he'd clearly been about to launch himself at the memory of Peter.
He'd spent years in Azkaban wanting nothing more than to kill the rat.
Under his god's gaze, Sirius finally forced himself to look away from Peter and back to James, who was now doodling on a scrap of parchment.
He'd already drawn a tiny golden Snitch and was carefully sketching the letters "L.E."
What did they stand for?
It couldn't have been simpler.
Lily Evans.
"Quills down!" Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"That includes you, Stebbins! Stay in your seats while I collect the papers! Accio!"
More than a hundred rolls of parchment shot into the air and slammed into Flitwick's outstretched arms, knocking the tiny professor flat on his back.
A few people laughed. Students from the front row jumped up, grabbed Flitwick's arms, and hauled him to his feet.
"Thank you… thank you," Flitwick panted. "Very well, you may go!"
The black cat watched James quickly scribble out the "L.E." he'd been perfecting, leap up, stuff his quill and paper into his bag, sling the bag over his shoulder, and stand waiting for young Sirius to join him.
"Did you like question ten, Moony?" young Sirius asked once they were in the Entrance Hall.
"Loved it," Remus said cheerfully. "'Give five signs that identify a werewolf.' Brilliant question."
"Think you got all five?" James asked in mock concern.
"I reckon so," Remus said seriously as the crowd pushed toward the front doors and the sunny grounds. "First: he's sitting in my seat. Second: he's wearing my clothes. Third: his name's Remus Lupin."
Only Wormtail didn't laugh.
"I put down snout shape, pupil size, and bushy tail," Wormtail said anxiously, "but I couldn't remember the rest—"
"How thick can you get, Wormtail?" James snapped. "You've been running around with a werewolf once a month—"
"Keep your voice down," Remus begged.
The conversation was fascinating, but the black cat had heard enough.
It was enough. He had seen James. He had found him. The moment James left an impression in the black cat's mind, the Borderland would obey the cat's rules.
The real Sirius still stood in the corner, watching his own memory—the four of them laughing together.
The scene was beautiful and unreal. His face felt cold; he thought maybe it was raining in the Borderland.
Before they left, the black cat suddenly paused. It had spotted a wizard worth stopping for.
In the memory, beneath the shade of the beech tree by the lake.
In the deep shadow of the bushes, a black-haired boy sat on the grass, absorbed in his O.W.L. exam paper.
He looked about fifteen, wiry but pale, like a plant that had grown only in darkness.
The black cat leaped over and landed beside him. Now it could see clearly—this was young Professor Snape.
Sirius's shoulders relaxed. His god had left his side.
It padded across the grass and stopped in front of the wizard Sirius never wanted to see.
Even from a distance Sirius could tell the black cat was deeply interested. It had shown no such focus on anyone else here.
"That's Snape," Sirius said.
The black cat nodded, signaling they could leave.
"You're very interested in him?" Sirius asked cautiously once they were back on the white mist of the Borderland.
The black cat answered with silence.
"We should go, Mr. Black," the cat said. Its voice carried no emotion, as if it were always this calm.
The dream realm was full of wonders. Along the way Sirius saw all kinds of strange things.
Clumps of mist floated past, revealing bizarre scenes inside.
Notably, they seemed eager to drift toward Sirius, but the black cat flicked them away with its tail.
And as they walked farther, houses began to appear in the mist—each one unique, yet every single one shared one astonishing feature: they all had a small door. Some even had a little black-cat sign beside the door. A few had full black-cat statues.
Sirius watched and guessed.
He had clearly underestimated the black cat walking beside him.
The Borderland, the world beyond the veil of death, the eternal place where souls wandered… was filled with faith. A whole community of witches and wizards who worshipped a god.
For the first time, Sirius questioned what kind of magic this truly was.
What kind of being could make someone so young be placed on a divine altar?
What kind of power could reveal the future and walk between life and death?
What kind of wizard did it seek, that they could perform miracles…
Sirius had always thought it was just another Merlin legend. Now he saw it was real—and still growing.
Soon his thoughts drifted again. Would James and Lily still look like themselves when he saw them? Or would their faces be twisted with the pain of their final moments?
After all, they had died with their eyes open.
Would they hate him? Would they even want to look at him?
His brows drew tight. Fear gripped his throat the way it had on countless nights in Azkaban.
He thought this time would be like all the others—that the fear would pass quickly.
He was wrong.
While Sirius's mind wandered, the black cat's swaying tail suddenly froze.
Far away, in a patch of pitch-black mist, the black cat heard the savage roar of a dog.
It had never encountered this before, yet it seemed almost expected.
"Mr. Black," it said, snapping Sirius out of his daze.
"Run straight ahead—if you truly wish to see them again."
"What…"
Before Sirius could react, a massive black dog burst out of the haze.
The moment Sirius saw it, his legs turned to water.
"What the hell is that?!" he shouted, equal parts terrified and furious.
"Your fear, sir," the black cat answered.
It paid Sirius no more attention.
This was the first time it had ever seen a wizard's reverse soul.
It had invited many guests. Besides a few young students who never stayed long, only Newt Scamander had remained in the Borderland for any real time.
But Newt's heart was so pure that the black cat had assumed the realm wasn't truly dangerous for those who entered.
Now it understood why even Professor Dumbledore could not linger here for long.
How could a place like this ever be peaceful?
"Run," the black cat commanded.
Sirius's legs felt like jelly, but he obeyed, sprinting forward.
And then—not just one black dog appeared.
"Fear… resentment… guilt…" the black cat sighed. Mr. Black really was a complicated wizard.
Three enormous black dogs leaped from the mist. Each stood over a meter tall on its hind legs. Beside them the black cat looked tiny.
In the distance Sirius ran with everything he had, wind whipping past his ears, while his god's voice drifted through the air like a chant:
"Run, sir. Run past fear. Run past resentment. Run past guilt.
Leave yesterday behind—yesterday is already dead.
Cast out your hatred—no one can keep a venomous snake in their heart.
Bury your fear… and lay your guilt to rest…
If you can stand steady in the wind, you will understand: wind is only wind—whether it howls around the highest tower while you balance on a tightrope, or whether it blows gently across flat ground. It is still only wind.
The person who falls from the heights does so because a storm is raging inside their own mind."
Sirius steadied himself. He saw his god reveal its true majesty.
It was not only merciful—it also possessed a god's wrath.
The black cat swelled to eight times its size, becoming a magnificent giant feline—larger even than the dogs. When it fixed its vertical pupils on them, the beasts formed from the darkness of a soul actually hesitated, as if terrified of divine fury.
"What kind of place is this… and what kind of being is my god…" Sirius whispered as he ran across the open plain.