I glared at my bedroom walls in frustration. It had been a month since I had returned from school, well to be exact, twenty-nine days. I was keeping track because I had mostly been imprisoned in my room since I'd come home.

The day I arrived home, I knew my mom was upset, and I had been expecting one of our verbal spars. But, what I got was a no-hold-barred ambush of epic proportions.

Apparently, my mom took exception to her son risking his life for a ring, and it seems Professor Dumbledore included the minor detail of me pulling the cave ceiling down on my head to take out the Grendel. Needless to say, my mom had not been amused.

I had been banned from leaving the house for a month, no visiting my friends, or flying over our property. It seems like she didn't trust me because she hexed my windows, preventing me from sneaking out.

The first week I didn't mind, I was perfectly happy to stay in my room and practice my magic. When she discovered how little I cared, she confiscated my wand and books leaving me little to do other than stare at the walls in frustration.

I tried to work my occlumency by meditating, but there is only so much meditating that one can do without losing one's mind. I hadn't had any success in reaching the state described by the book, but I knew that this was going to be a long process. Thankfully my imprisonment would be over tomorrow, and I would be free once more.

The following day, my mom reluctantly returned my wand and books to me. I had planned on heading to Cedric's house, but I got stuck watching Sasha and Rebecca while our parents went to visit my uncle.

When I had heard where they were going, I asked to come along. But, for some strange reason, my dad vehemently refused to allow me to go with them.

Pulling me from my thoughts, I felt Rebecca tug on my arm and childishly demand, "Do some magic."

I turned and looked down at the twins who had turned six recently. Rebecca was staring at me with a cute, defiant look on her face. Sasha, on the other hand, had gone down a different route. She was trying to make herself too adorable for me to refuse their request.

Ever since I had gotten home, Sasha had taken to carrying Athena around as if she was convinced that Athena couldn't manage to get around.

Pulling out my wand, I grinned and asked, "Want to see a magic trick?"

Both of them nodded eagerly, so I tapped Rebecca on the head and said, "Aurantium Dulcis."

Immediately her black hair turned a horrible looking orange color, and Sasha almost dropped Athena and let out a large gasp in surprise.

Curious about what I had done, Rebecca turned and looked into a mirror. When she saw her hair, she screamed, "What did you do? "

Glaring at me, she demanded, "Turn it back."

With a Chesire cat grin, I innocently said, "What? I thought you wanted to see some magic."

Grinning, I turned to Sasha and asked, "Did you want to see some magic as well."

Sasha quickly shook her head and held Athena out in front of her as a shield, worried that I may turn my wand on her.

Rebecca looked back at me and asked fearfully, "Is it permanent?"

I shook my head and said, "Of course not, I would never do something like that."

A relieved look appeared on her face, and she asked, "So when does it wear off."

With an evil grin, I said, "All you have to do is cut off your hair, it will grow back normally."

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she whined, "No... I don't want to cut my hair off."

Seeing her tears, made me sense that I might have taken the joke a little to far. So, I smiled at her and said, "I'm kidding. It only lasts for about ten minutes."

It was funny how quickly her tears disappeared, and I looked at her suspiciously. It seemed like she was able to call out those tears whenever she needed to make someone feel guilty. Is this skill all little sisters develop to manipulate their big brothers? If so, I'm going to have to up my game.

I spent the rest of the afternoon, entertaining my little sisters. I did everything from making chairs dance to levitating the twins through the air.

Later that night, at the dining room table, my dad said, "Alex, after dinner, I want you to go clean up the library."

I looked at him in confusion. I don't think I have ever been required to clean up a room. Hell, if one of us tried, Lola, our house elf, would burst into tears, thinking she hadn't done a good enough job.

When I got to the family library, I looked around in confusion. The place was spotless as usual. I sighed when I heard a faint sniffle coming from outside.

"Come on in Lola," I called out.

A tiny elf peered her head out from around the corner, with big tears leaking from her large eyes. She tearfully asked, "Did Lola mess up cleaning the library?"

I knew that I had to be careful, if I said the wrong thing, she might try and punish herself. Carefully I said, "No, Lola, look at this place it is spotless, I don't think it's ever been so clean before."

Half-sobbing, Lola stuttered, "But, Master Henry said that... that... you needed to clean the library, that is Lola's duty."

While I was annoyed at my father, a thought occurred to me. Musing out loud, I said, "Ya, he did."

Looking around the library in suspicion, my father doesn't do anything without reason. He would have known that what he said would have made Lola upset, and he wouldn't have done that without cause. There was something in here that he wanted me to find, and he intended Lola to help me find it.

"Lola," I said.

With her ears drooping in sadness, Lola said, "Yes, master Alex?"

"I think my father left me to find something in here. Is there anything in here out of place?"

As she looked around the room, Lola's eyes came to rest on the far shelf. She pointed at the shelf and moaned, "Oh no. There is a book out of place."

She tried to start smacking her head, "Bad Lola. Bad Lola."

I grabbed her arms quickly, and soothed, "You didn't do anything wrong, Lola. You just helped me out a great deal."

She stopped trying to bang and said, "Lola did good?"

I smiled at her and said, "That's right. I needed this book, and you found it for me. You're the best house-elf ever, way better than the ones at Hogwarts."

Tears of joy swiftly replaced tears of sadness as Lola proudly said, "It is my honor to be of service master Alex."

She poofed out of the library, no doubt running off to complete other duties around the house. I wasn't going to try and interfere with her; I had learned my lesson years ago. House-elves were a weird bunch; they seem happiest when they're helping.

I walked over to the shelf that she pointed at and began perusing the titles. One of the books stood out to me; my father divided his books by category and then alphabetically.

On the shelf dealing with enchantments, there was a book that didn't match up with the others. It described several strange creatures from the far east, such as Beholders, Illithids, Mind Lampreys, and several others.

All the creatures in the book seemed to have a unifying theme. They were all magical creatures that could use legilimency in one form or another. Some of these creatures often used Legilimency to infiltrate the minds of others and can trick play tricks.

Some of the creatures described were extremely dangerous and were immediately exterminated when found, while others were less so and were allowed to thrive in areas where muggles couldn't reach.

Several magical governments in the east had employed a small group dedicated to this task. They were each a master in the art of mental defense and were trained to deal with these tricky creatures.

Wizards and witches skilled enough to use legilimency were extremely rare. Even rarer were those who could take legilimency to another level and influence the mind of a person. So, these groups used a reasonably harmless creature to train themselves.

The creature they used was a bearded mushroom; it was a cross between a plant and a creature. It used legilimency as a defensive tactic, tricking the minds of anyone near it that it didn't exist.

I was surprised to learn that there were creatures out there who could use legilimency in this way.

A surge of excitement shot through me; this is how I would know if I was making progress when training with occlumency. If I got to the point where I could be in the presence of this creature and were able to detect it, then that would mean I had made significant progress.

My father must have secretly searched my trunk and found all the books on occulmency that I copied from the Room of Requirement. He would have known that I couldn't implement any plans to request for help, so he sidestepped the entire issue.

I had wondered why my mom confiscated all my books; it must have been at my dad's suggestion. I wondered if the magic binding me would prevent me from asking my uncle to track down one of these creatures for me.

As I left the library with the book, I saw my dad in the family room. Without saying anything, I gave him a wordless hug, and he patted me on the back and said, "I know what you have to do is hard, but if anyone can do it, you can."

I tried to tell him that I would complete the trial and make him proud, but I was unable to do so; any mention of the trial was forbidden. I think he understood when he saw my frustrated expression. And considering that he also took part in the trial, he must understand exactly what I was going through.

The following day, I was planning on visiting my uncle to see if he had any connections in the east. I got a little sidetracked during breakfast when I saw a small article written by Rita Skeeter in the back of the Daily Prophet.

Shadow over Nimbus Racing Broom Company.

The future of the broomstick racing at risk! This brave reporter has discovered the truth first hand. The son of Delvin Whithorn, wizard tycoon that took the racing world by storm, has recently been admitted to the mental ward at St. Mungo Hospital. An insider has informed me that Micheal Whithorn was admitted after raving about ghosts haunting his every move. A source in the council of ghostly affairs told me that he is outraged at the accusation, and that is is more probable that Micheal is mentally disturbed. One must wonder if Delvin Whithorn is making sure that the future owner of such a large business is capable of running the business.

The article made me laugh; it seems that the mask that I planted on Micheal, had led to him embarrassing his father. I bet that he wasn't in there for very long, it wouldn't be difficult for a healer to tell that a cursed mask was on him.

I grabbed a copy of the article for my uncle. I figured that he would get a kick out of the story. Once I got permission, I headed towards the vanishing cabinet that led to his ship; I had a lot I needed to discuss with him.