¤ I've never done anything quite like this—at least not on here. On my thread, we tend to call these "Castles" . . . they're like a fanfiction of a fanfiction. I loved the idea, but didn't want it to be a part of the series, and it was too long to post as a castle (it's the length of an average chapter). So, here it is. One-shot. Goes with Heir of Voldemort and Powers of the Prophecy, BUT IS NOT PART OF THE SERIES! Like I said . . . a fic of a fic. ¤
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot. Harry Potter™ is the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, Warner Bros. and various others who all aren't connected to me in any way. No money is being made with this fanfiction and no copyright infringement is intended.
§ ¤ § "Someday, You'll Remember That" § ¤ §
KayKay groaned and put a hand to her forehead. It felt as if a train had rumbled through her head, releasing a raccoon to scramble up her brain while it was at it.
What could have happened? Gryffindor had had a Quidditch match against Slytherin . . . they'd won, of course, and gotten the Quidditch Cup in the process . . . then there was a party in the Common Room.
Fred and George hadn't been there—well, obviously not—so they couldn't have been testing some sort of new prank product. However, a Hangover Hex wasn't a poor idea. She'd have to write them and suggest it.
She'd never had a hangover, but this sure could have passed as one were it not for the simple fact that she didn't drink. At least . . . not intentionally.
"Oh dang that Potter, I'll kill him for this," she whispered groggily to herself. Harry was just the person who'd slip something into her drink, whether it was magical or real alcohol. Even though they were as close of friends as any, the pulled pranks on each other incessantly.
The buzzing in her ears was becoming a more defined noise, a staccato "Beep—beep—beep." Opening her eyes slowly, KayKay was thankful that it was a Saturday and she could spend it lying in her . . .
Four-poster? Where were the scarlet hangings of her dormitory bed?!
KayKay blinked again as the world she'd anticipated seemed to dissolve right around her. The smell of starched linen, latex, and antibacterial soap filled KayKay nose.
"Ugh . . . what's going on?" she groaned, rubbing her head.
"Kayleigh?" a gentle, voice said incredulously. She heard footsteps moving quickly on linoleum and the sound of a door opening.
"Jack! Call Jenna and Bill, quick! Doctor! Nurse! Someone!"
The man's rumbling voice seemed familiar, but faintly so . . . like a fading laugh or a line of music, or the distant crash of waves upon the shore. Its identity was just beyond her grasp.
The footsteps came closer and the man's face came into view above her.
She gasped and blinked in shock.
"D-Dad?" she asked incredulously.
"Yes . . . it's me, Chick-Pea." He put a hand on her cheek. "Don't worry, everything is alright now."
"But—but you're dead!" Okay, maybe not the best way to say it, but—well, honestly, it really was a confusing situation!
"Dead?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "I don't recall having died . . ." There was a twinkle in his eye.
"Then . . . then I'm dead!" KayKay cried, looking around frantically.
"That's a very arguable point, young lady." A new voice said. KayKay's father stepped to the side as a man in a crisp white smock stepped over to the bed.
"Well, so Sleeping Beauty awakens. I'm very glad, of course . . . ten years is quite a long time, but your family waited."
"I—it—what?" KayKay exclaimed, her head dizzy. "What are you—"
"Please, my questions first," he said. "I'd like to check your coordination. Touch your nose . . . now touch my finger . . . touch your nose . . . touch my finger . . ."
KayKay sighed and followed the man's directions easily.
"Now, what's going—"
"Say 'ah'!" The doctor pressed her tongue down with a wooden stick and looked into her mouth, giving her no chance to speak.
"Hmmm, no abrasions of the throat . . . that's good." he said, almost to himself. KayKay was nearly gagging on the tongue depressor.
"Ath oing on?" she tried to ask. The doctor didn't answer, just pulled it out and tossed it into a garbage bin. "What happened?"
"Don't be worrying about that," he said in a tone that suggested he was humoring her. "It's all okay now, so long as we can get you back up to snuff. Walking may take a bit, as well as other motor skills, but you seem to be talking much better then most patients in your case."
" 'My case'? I would greatly appreciate it if you stopped treating me like a child and enlightened me as to what has happened!" KayKay exclaimed, growing frustrated. "I was with my friends, and then I blinked and was in a hospital bed surrounded by medical paraphernalia and being ambushed by a medical officer who is treating me like I can't understand English!"
"The doctor simply put the ends of his stethoscope in his ears and commented to KayKay's father, "She has an impressive vocabulary for a girl her age. However, she isn't very cooperative in her examination . . ."
" 'Girl?' " KayKay demanded, " 'Examination?' I'm just as healthy—in fact, healthier—than any lady my age! What's going on?!"
"Interesting accent, too," the doctor commented, placing the other end of the stethoscope on KayKay's chest. "I wonder where a seven year old would pick up something like that."
"Where a—wait—what's going on?" KayKay demanded. Looking furiously at the man, she grabbed the metal disk and shouted into it, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?!"
"The doctor jumped, yanking the instrument off of his ears and rubbing them vigorously. Her dad looked at him and gravely said. "She didn't learn language like that in our home."
"Of course not!" KayKay snapped. "Americans don't use the expression 'Bloody Hell,' just we Brits do! I picked it up at Hogwarts, where else—GAH!" she exclaimed, suddenly, her body jerking a few inches. She glared at the doctor, who was now filling a vial with blood from a syringe.
"That—was—low," she growled darkly, rubbing her arm where he'd jabbed the needle. "Honestly, you didn't use any anesthetic or anything . . . really, and I thought Madame Pomfrey was bad, but for all the times I was in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts, she never . . ."
She drifted off at the blank stares she was getting. The moment could've proved to be quite awkward if a woman hadn't rushed in at that very moment.
"Where is she? Jack called—oh, Kayleigh!" she sped to KayKay side and pulled her into a hug, one that spoke comfort that KayKay hadn't felt in years.
"She's in perfect health physically . . . it's the darndest thing . . . but she seems disoriented. I'll leave you two to talk to her while I run some blood tests," the doctor said, walking away. The door clicked shut behind him.
"Mom?" KayKay whispered, scarcely daring to believe it. The woman nodded and KayKay sat up, reaching out for another hug.
"A lot has happened, Kayleigh." her father said after both mother and daughter had shed a few tears. "And there's really no way to be very delicate about it . . ."
He paused, and looked at KayKay in a curious way.
"Chick-Pea, you've been in a coma for the past ten years."
The words struck KayKay like a sledgehammer, knocking all the air from her lungs and making her heart skip a beat. (And she knew it really did skip a beat, because the monitor recording her pulse had a moment of silence where it should've beeped).
"So . . . so then . . . I'm twenty-seven already?" she asked, bewildered. Her parents exchanged looks.
"Twenty-seven? Sunshine—you're seventeen."
"But that's not possible!" KayKay gaped, looking between them with the greatest hope that this was just some part of Harry's prank.
"Why?" her mother asked softly.
"B—because!" KayKay sputtered, "it's not possible!"
"Sunshine . . ." Oh, great. Was that pity? Was she actually seeing pity in this—this person's eyes?
KayKay rubbed her temples. This wasn't making any sense! How did she get here? Why were her parents alive? And if they weren't, why were people pretending to be them? Perhaps it was a hologram—yes, that had to be it. Harry might have been a good prankster, but he wasn't good enough to make an entire alternate world!
On that tangent, was he even good enough to make such a convincing hologram? Would he even pull such a cruel prank?
"I don't get it!" she exclaimed. "You're dead! You both are! Along with Bill, Uncle Jack, Celia . . . everyone except for Madison and—"
She stopped. She had almost said, "And Remus."
" . . . And Madison," she repeated lamely.
"Sunshine, you must have had quite a dream—"
"It wasn't a dream! It was horrible! Lucius Malfoy and some other Death Eater, they came to the house on Christmas and killed everyone. They just didn't see me because I was behind the tree . . . and then I lived with Joe and Sue, but then they died when I was sixteen, so I lived with Uncle Remmy, but then in July he . . ."
She couldn't say any more. She started crying in both exasperation and confusion, and wasn't able to speak.
"Sweetie . . ." her mom said, looking pained, "Kayleigh, you're a little confused. During Christmas when you were seven, you went behind the tree to get a gift for someone—"
"Bill," her dad supplied.
"And you tripped over the tree skirt and hit your head on the window ledge. You've been here ever since."
That's a "little" confused?! KayKay thought incredulously. This is insane . . .
KayKay thought incredulously."But how do I even know that you two—"
The door opened just then and someone came in, setting a tray on the table by her bed.
"In case she gets hungry. Doctors orders," the young voice said.
She knew that voice!
"Matt?" she gasped when she saw the teenage boy's face.
"Yeah, that's me . . . how did you know my name?"
This left KayKay more confused than anything else had since she'd "woken up."
"Matt . . . it's me, KayKay! Don't you remember me?"
He looked highly uncomfortable. "Well . . . I remember that you're the same girl who's been in this room ever since I began volunteering here . . ."
"But . . . come on, you must remember! Garth Brooks . . . Valleyfair . . . Escondito!" she pleaded. A smile spread across his face, and for a moment her hopes lifted.
But he patted her hand and said in a voice that was clearly humoring her, "Welcome back, Kayleigh Determan. It's so gratifying to have another patient rejoin the world of the living."
He left then, and as the door clicked shut behind him it was as if another door slammed in her head, cutting her away from everything she'd ever known, thought, or believed.
KayKay drew her knees up to her chest and buried her face in her arms, hot tears prickling the back of her eyes and sneaking out of the corners. She felt her mother's reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"I want to see Uncle Remmy." KayKay croaked after a long silence.
"Anything, Sunshine, we can ask him to join us if—"
"No, mom. I need to see him alone. Please."
There was another moment of silence, then the sound of her parents getting to their feet and walking out. KayKay hastily wiped her eyes, and Remus came in shortly after.
"Uncle Remmy!" Her relief and joy at seeing him was so great that she jumped out of the bed, forgetting about the needles putting medicine into her bloodstream. They tugged out of her hands, a pain she scarcely noticed as she rushed into Remus's arms.
"My Little Kayleigh," he sighed, hugging her tightly.
"I never thought I'd hear you say that again in my entire life." KayKay whispered. When they separated, KayKay took a deep breath, deciding to get right to the point.
"Remus, I need to see your wand."
He looked at her blankly, but she didn't buy it.
"Remus, don't fool around. I need to see your wand. Trust me, it's important. I wouldn't ask otherwise."
"I don't know what—"
"Do you want proof?" KayKay snapped. This was a rare moment in which she got mad at her uncle. "Fine! Diagon Alley! Hogwarts! Harry Potter! The Marauders!" Seeing she was getting nowhere, she threw in the last one she'd been trying to avoid. "Werewolves!"
He flinched—just a tiny flinch, so fast that it would be missed with a blink—but she saw it.
"See! I knew it! Please, Remus, this is more important than you'd ever know . . ." she begged.
Sighing in resignation, he put his hand into an inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a long, slender stick. KayKay knew she wouldn't get very good results without her own wand—that mean she'd have to try a simple spell. She took it gratefully and stood straighter, gripping the wand tightly. She opened her mouth to say the spell . . .
And she stopped.
What if it didn't work? What if the wand served her the same purpose as a mere stick?
What if no magic came out?
Then she'd be like the stick.
Plain, ordinary, devoid of something she'd known her whole life.
For so long she'd been like the wand—proud, powerful, self-assured.
What if the spell didn't work? What if she was doomed to live a Muggle life after all she'd known?
She didn't think she could bear the thought.
But if she didn't do the spell, she'd never know . . .
She shook stray thoughts from her head and raised the wand, pointing it at her tray.
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
Nothing happened for a moment. Then, suddenly, the tray quivered and slowly lifted a few inches into the air.
KayKay dropped the wand and clapped her hands to her mouth, nearly weeping with relief. The tray, in the meantime, fell with a crash to the floor. The glass of orange juice shattered and the plate cracked neatly in half. Beside her, Remus was staring in shock at her, then the tray, then her again.
The door burst open and her mother and father rushed in.
"What happened? What's the matter?" she asked hurriedly. KayKay's body was beginning to shake with joyful laughter, and Remus was still staring in surprise. KayKay bent down and picked up the wand, looking at it gratefully before handing it back to Remus.
Her mother watched this exchange with an unreadable expression on her face. "Remus, what are you doing with your wand out? Are you trying to get caught, crashing around like that?"
"It wasn't me, Jenna," he replied quietly.
Her mom faltered, and her dad looked quickly at KayKay.
"Kayleigh . . .?" he said slowly. KayKay nodded and smiled, lowering her hands from her face.
"I don't understand . . ." her mom said, sitting down with a plop on the edge of the hospital bed.
"Mom . . ." KayKay started quietly, unsure of what exactly to say, "I don't belong here."
"We'll get you checked out just as soon as we can, Chick-Pea—"
"No, Dad," she said, almost pleadingly, turning to him. "I don't belong here. In this world."
Neither of her parents responded, so she turned to Remus.
"Uncle Remmy, I need you to take me to see Harry Potter."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
"I still don't know how you know all of this . . ."
"And I still don't know why you won't believe my story," KayKay responded to Remus. "Shall we?"
"I suppose we must," he sighed. He threw Floo Powder into the fireplace. "Hogwarts!" he shouted, stepping into the emerald flames. KayKay followed directly after.
They emerged in Remus's office.
"Now, the N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts class is about to begin. I won't make you do anything, but here's a spare wand in case you need it," he said, handing her a wand that obviously wasn't her own but still was more comfortable to the touch than his.
"Now, just find a seat near the back. Here's a book, some parchment, and a quill," he said, handing her a bookbag. "I won't try to make you figure out any of the answers. You'll be fine."
"Uncle Remmy, I'm not worried. I know all this stuff. You can even call on me if you like."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and went out into the classroom, taking a seat close to the front, where she knew Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Madison always sat. Only a few moments later, students began to come in to the classroom. Some noticed her and whispered to their friends—others didn't.
Still, to her satisfaction, the seats around her were left empty. Good. That meant that when her friends arrived, they'd sit around her.
She doodled absentmindedly on one of her sheets of parchment. First a small triangle, then a few more lines to make it three-dimensional . . . hmmm, it needed a bit more background . . .
Before she knew it, she'd created an illustration of Hogsmeade and the medical tent as she remembered it after the attack in her—her what? Alternate life? Alternate world?
Out of the corner of her eye, KayKay saw Madison seat herself a couple of chairs to the right of her. She set aside her drawing.
"Madison . . . Madison!" she whispered. The Slytherin girl turned slowly and fixed her with a rather disdainful look.
"Do I know you?" she asked in quite an unpleasant tone.
"Madison—it's me! KayKay! You know . . . your cousin?" KayKay prompted. Madison simply stared back at her.
"Yeah . . . good one," she replied snobbishly, turning away to look at the door, as if waiting for someone.
KayKay was left blinking in confusion. She'd never expected to not be remembered by people who were still around during her "alternate life."
Amidst her stunned silence, Hermione and Ron had sat down in the seats to KayKay's left. KayKay knew better than to try to initiate a "reunion" with them. They talked to each other quietly.
Harry was almost the last student to arrive.
"What took you?" Madison asked as he hurried to the table.
"Peeves," he replied. He pulled out a chair but stopped before sitting down to bend over and give Madison a kiss.
Whoa.
KayKay definitely hadn't been expecting that.
She leaned back in her chair, her head reeling. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Hermione glancing at Harry, her lips pressed thin in disapproval. Ron's scorn was more apparent, as he kept shooting angry looks at Madison and Harry.
"Who's she?" KayKay heard Harry whisper to Madison. She looked over to watch their conversation.
"I don't know, I've never met her before. She is strange though. She knew my name and said she was my cousin."
Harry glanced in KayKay's direction and seemed startled to find that she was watching them.
"Er . . . hi," he said quickly, as if it would distract her from the fact that they'd been talking about her.
"Hello, Harry," she said glumly, tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling. He looked slightly startled, and perhaps would have said something if Remus hadn't begun the lesson just then.
"Good afternoon."
The chatter in the classroom died out immediately.
"Now as you know, recently we've been focusing on wizard duels. We've learned quite a few defenses and curses. However, it would be good to focus on some less contemporary forms of defense. Can anyone give an example?"
Both Hermione and KayKay's hands shot into the air simultaneously. Remus looked slightly surprised.
"Yes, Hermione."
"Wizards can call upon inanimate objects to mobilize and defend them, such as statues, trees, books, furniture—"
"Good. Now, does anyone else—"
KayKay raised her hand again. Remus looked torn, but finally called on her.
"Kayleigh?"
"Wizards can use practical self defense, such as non-magical martial arts to surprise their opponent, or they can incorporate weaponry—like swords, for example—using the Lamnivigra charm. These also, as I understand it, are good defenses for Aurors to know."
Remus looked flat-out shocked.
"Yes . . . that's correct."
Madison raised her hand. "Of course, in order to use a weaponry spell, you have to actually know how to use a sword," she said, glancing pointedly at KayKay. "There's big difference in saying you know a spell and proving you can do it."
"What makes you think I can't?" KayKay replied evenly. "Perhaps you'd like to take me on?" A few whispers circulated the room.
"Don't be ridiculous, "she sneered "I, unlike you, don't harbor false ideals. However . . . Professor Lupin," Madison said to Remus, "Why don't we have a demonstration? Harry can sword fight . . . as I doubt she can."
KayKay stood abruptly and pulled out her wand. "With pleasure," she said, glaring at her cousin. It seemed they were back to the same point they'd been at in the beginning of their Sixth Year—flat-out enemies. She gave her uncle a look that she hoped communicated that she knew what she was doing. Her knowledge of the charm itself must have reassured him of some of her claims, for he simply said, "A wonderful idea. Please, do. However, I ask that you don't draw blood."
"Oh, don't worry, Professor," KayKay said. "I won't need to draw blood to beat him." She stood and circled around the table and went to the front of the classroom. Harry followed quickly after.
"Lamnivigra!" KayKay said, waving her wand to make it turn into a sword. Harry did the same.
She took an open lunge, one arm behind her for leverage and the other holding a fully extended sword. Harry stood in a comfortable stance, his right arm holding his sword at full length but his left hanging at his side.
They stared each other down for a few moments. It was utterly bizarre to KayKay to stare into those familiar green eyes and not see a glimmer of recognition . . .
She shook her mucky thoughts away and initiated the duel. "En garde!"
She sprang into action, deciding to keep Harry on his toes from the start.
"Let's see . . ." she began, taking in every one of Harry's moves with alert eyes, "parry . . . parry . . . thrust . . . down-shot . . . good!" KayKay said cheerfully as she easily blocked Harry's attacks. "Now it's my turn!"
"You act like you're humoring me," Harry commented through gritted teeth.
"And that, Harry dear, is because I am humoring you," she said with feigned sweetness.
So saying, she feigned a thrust and then caught Harry's sword above her own, lulling him into the idea that he held the advantage. She hooked her blade sharply to the right, making his sword jerk from his hand and clatter to the floor.
He looked shocked to say the least. KayKay glanced briefly at Madison's gaping mouth and Hermione and Ron's surprised yet somehow pleased faces, then smirked. She flicked her sword under the fallen one and lifted it to herself. She caught it deftly in her left hand and held both swords readily, pointed straight at Harry.
She raised a single eyebrow, expressing an unsaid question perfectly, and he nodded in resignation. KayKay returned his sword to him. She was turned around and just stepping away when her blade flashed out again to block the blow Harry attempted to place on her from behind.
"I've always been better with swords than you, Potter," she said, staring him straight in the eye and shoving him back with push against their locked blades. "I always will be. Someday, you'll remember that."
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
"I must say, Miss Determan, your story is quite fantastic . . ." Dumbledore said pensively, standing from his desk and crossing to look out his office window.
"It's true, Professor! I know it sounds far-fetched, but I couldn't have just dreamed something with so many intricate details that turned out to be exactly the same—and people don't dream with that kind of clarity! And no matter what my parents tell me, people in comas don't dream at all!" KayKay hurried around the edge of his desk to join him at the window.
"Please, Professor Dumbledore—I showed you the Pensieve, and Pensieves don't hold dreams! It is not within their capabilities!"
"I'm quite aware of the function of a Pensieve, Miss Determan. Actually, this revelation explains a great deal of queries I had. You say that your latest memory was of a Quidditch match?"
"The Quidditch Final, yes, and actually the party afterwards in the Gryffindor Common Room," KayKay replied, relief washing over her.
"We just held our Quidditch Final a few days ago—"
"That sounds about right."
"—and I seem to recall one of the Headmaster portraits telling me that a few of my dark detectors began 'acting up' during the match. I suppose this would be connected to Lord Voldemort . . ."
"Yes! Oh, yes, it's in the Pensieve . . ." KayKay began, going to the basin. Finally, someone who believed her! "You see, Voldemort—"
"There's no need to show me, Miss Determan, I will look at it all tonight. Don't be surprised if I summon you here once again in the near future. For propriety's sake, however, I would like for you to be Sorted and continue your studies."
KayKay smiled and took the Sorting Hat eagerly.
Ah, you're back, it said once she'd put it on her head. I was wondering how long it would take. Well, I'm sure you know where you're going—GRYFFINDOR!
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
"Hey . . . that looks like Hogsmeade!"
KayKay looked over her shoulder, startled. Ron was behind her, peering curiously at her papers where they were scattered on the table.
"That's right . . . during the relief program after the attack," she nodded, picking up the sketch and handing it to him to examine more closely. "By the medical tent, to be specific."
"Bloody Hell . . ." he murmured, crossing behind her and sitting down in the chair next to her. "But—who are you?"
"KayKay Determan. I'm not exactly a new student. There was a—ah, incident . . ."
"Was it Voldemort?" Hermione asked, surprising KayKay as she came from behind and sat in the third chair at the table.
"Oh, Hermione! I didn't hear you come over. Yes, it was Voldemort. I see you're still Head Girl . . . and I assume that you're still Quidditch Captain?" KayKay continued, looking at Ron.
"Wha—yeah, I am. How did you know? And how did you get this picture?"
"Well—I'm not sure that you'll believe this, but I trust you, you've always been helpful in the past—I went here before."
"How long ago?"
"Last week."
"What?!" Ron exclaimed.
"Ron, shhh! Do you want everyone to hear?" KayKay admonished. "We'd just won the Quidditch Cup—"
"We did just win the Quidditch Cup!"
"Ron!" KayKay and Hermione exclaimed simultaneously.
"Sorry."
"Anyhow . . . we got to bed late—naturally, we'd just won, we were all celebrating—and when I woke up, I was in a Muggle hospital."
"Why?" This question was voiced by Hermione.
"My parents died when I was just a kid. Death Eaters came around on Christmas . . .et cetera, et cetera," KayKay said, not pausing at Hermione's gasp of horror. "But I woke up a few days ago in a Muggle hospital after having lived my whole life up until a few days ago with three different guardians—my cousins, Remus—"
"Wait, you mean Professor Lupin?" Ron asked incredulously.
"Yeah, he's my uncle, from my mom's side. But he died—"
"No he didn't!" Ron exclaimed, seeming extremely confused.
"Yes, he did," KayKay said with a finality that left no room for argument. "He died, and then I went to live with Sirius and Harry . . ." she trailed off at the looks on Hermione and Ron's faces. "You're not happy with him, are you?"
"Ever since last year when he started dating that Slytherin brat, Madison Jacobs, he's paid no attention to us." Hermione looked down sadly.
"He's getting all chummy with the Slytherins—before you know it, that git Malfoy will be his best mate!" Ron said angrily, slamming his fist against the table.
"Not if I have anything to do with it," KayKay growled. If this was some trick by Voldemort, it was working, and she didn't like it one bit.
"Sorry, you were saying?" Hermione prompted.
"Was I? Oh, yeah, and I'd gone through most of Seventh Year . . . like I said, up to the Quidditch Final when I woke up in the hospital . . . and my parents were there, telling me I'd been in a coma for ten years, since that day when they'd all been killed. The told me I must have dreamed it."
"But—people don't dream during a coma" Hermione said, looking confused.
"Exactly. Nobody has believed me until I talked to Dumbledore. I put my significant memories in a Pensieve for him to see."
"Dreams can't go into a Pensieve . . ." Hermione said slowly.
"Exactly, which is how I'm positive it was all true. Dumbledore suspects Voldemort." Ron flinched. "Really Ron, don't tell me you still won't say his name!"
"Fine, I won't tell you." He looked again at the drawing. "So, you really were at Hogsmeade during the relief project?"
"Certainly! You two were in charge of things here when healed victims were brought to an empty wing of the castle."
"We know," Hermione said, "but what did you do?"
"Harry and I worked in the medical tent. He was good at helping with emotional trauma, and I was good at healing wounds—we were a team for the project, and really close friends besides."
"But—Harry wasn't part of the project," Hermione said quietly.
"Maybe not here. But he was in my 'reality.' So was Madison."
"What?! Her?!" Ron yelled loudly. Half of the members of the Common Room stopped and stared at them.
"Ron, I'd appreciate it if you showed a little decorum!" Hermione hissed. "Really!"
"Ron, in real life, Madison started out as a brat when she transferred, but by the end of Sixth Year was nice. In Seventh Year, she was shunned by most Slytherins for always hanging out with us."
" 'Us'?" Hermione repeated.
"Yes, us—You, Ron, Harry, Madison, and me. She's my cousin, actually."
"And you're saying that the five us were a 'group'? And we all got along?"
KayKay nodded to Ron's question, then stopped as the portrait hole opened and Harry entered.
"Hey, Harry, join us, will ya'?" KayKay called out to him. Hermione stomped on her foot beneath the table, but the damage was done now. Harry stopped, then crossed to their gathering. He put his palms on the table and leaned in so he was right in KayKay's face.
"Who are you?" he asked, his words dripping with ice.
"KayKay Determan, nice to meet ya'. Like I was saying—"
"I'm sorry, I don't 'do' perky," he interrupted her. "You must be crazy."
He straightened and walked away.
"Yeah, so I've been told!" she yelled after him.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
"I still can't believe that you guys believe me," KayKay said a few days later over lunch with Ron and Hermione. She'd probably said so several times since her reunion with them, and it was nearly unfathomable that she'd accept her story so easily.
Hermione and Ron shrugged simultaneously in response.
"How couldn't we? It's a pointless story for someone to make up—and you know everything about us that Harry probably doesn't even know now," Hermione said. KayKay didn't fail to notice that, as usual, she uttered his name with a lacing of darkness.
"Besides," Ron shrugged, "it's like—intuition, or something. I don't know how to describe it . . . but I can't not believe you."
KayKay blinked quickly to force herself not to cry.
"You two are the best friends I—no one took me at my word, not my parents, or my uncle, or even Dumbledore—I don't know what I would've done if you'd looked at me like I was crazy, the same way everyone else did."
"Hey, don't worry about it," Ron said, punching her lightly on the shoulder. "We wouldn't abandon you!"
"Good, because it looks like I'm going to need you guys—it's almost time for our next class, and this will be my first Potions Class since the incident. Maybe Snape will have a bit of mercy on me since I'm a 'new student' . . ." she trailed off at the odd looks on Ron and Hermione's faces. "You're right, probably not, eh?"
"Certainly not—do you mean to tell me that Snape is still teaching potions in your time?" Hermione asked quizzically.
"Do you mean to tell me that he's not?!" KayKay exclaimed, looking between them.
"No, we've had a new teacher since the start of the year—we figure Snape's working as a full time spy on our side against Voldemort," Hermione added in a whisper.
"Who's teaching?"
"Er . . . he was last year's Head Boy—"
"Brian?" KayKay gasped. "Brian Kingstaff is teaching Potions?"
"Yeah, and let me tell you, he's loads better than Snape. Slytherins don't seem to like him much—"
"Especially with how he punishes the term 'Mudblood', right?" KayKay finished pensively.
"He taught for you too?"
"Yes, but it was Defense Against the Dark Arts—Snape was still around," she said slowly.
"Well, whoever it is, we need to get there!" Hermione exclaimed, looking at her watch. "Come on!"
They raced down to the dungeons, making it through the doorway mere moments before the bell sounded. They hurried towards seats near the front.
"Good afternoon," Brian said without preamble, walking around his desk and addressing the students. KayKay was surprised (not to mention very slightly confused) when she felt a fluttering in her stomach when she looked at him.
"Today we'll be continuing in Appearance-Altering potions. You've learned some specific potions, but this one will be slightly more difficult. It is a versatile potion, allowing the user to change their appearance with every swallow. However, this demands not only a flawless potion but also undivided attention during the time of transformation, as such attention determines the user's appearance."
He went one step lower on the dais. "All instructions are on the board, as well as page 672 of your textbooks. Please don't hesitate to ask for clarification, as this is an extremely dangerous potion if done incorrectly. I'll circulate and assist you as necessary."
He flicked his wand at his radio, which began playing swing music as chatter broke out among the students clamoring towards the supply cabinet.
"I'll get enough for all of us," Ron said, joining the crowd as Hermione and KayKay started fires under their cauldrons.
"KayKay Determan, right?"
KayKay gulped, then looked up at Brian—No, "Professor Kingstaff", she had to remember to call him that in this world—from where she was crouched by the base of her cauldron.
"Yes, that's me," she said, straightening with a self-conscious grin. Again, the stomach flutter plagued her.
"Welcome to Hogwarts. Dumbledore assured me that you'd have no problems adjusting to the curriculum, but if you need anything, please don't hesitate to ask," he said with a friendly smile.
"Of course," she said, managing a bright smile in response. As he continued his rounds, KayKay turned away, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. Hermione had watched the entire exchange and was just opening her mouth when Ron reappeared, saying, "I've got all the stuff!"
KayKay closed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting her cold fingertips on her warm cheeks. Merlin, this was going to be harder than she thought—especially since in this world, thoughts and feelings she hadn't let herself entertain previously were becoming stronger.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
Two weeks after her arrival at Hogwarts, Dumbledore finally summoned KayKay—and Harry—to his office. Harry had thrown suspicious glares at her the whole way to the entrance of his office.
"Mister Potter, Miss Determan . . . please, sit," Dumbledore said, indicating two chairs in front of his desk. Harry flopped into a chair in a manner that suggested he'd prefer to be anywhere else, and KayKay perched nervously at the edge of her seat.
With barely any introduction at all, Dumbledore launched into KayKay's story, beginning at the Christmas incident and soon jumping to her Fifth Year, when she first came to Hogwarts as an exchange student.
Harry stared at the Headmaster as if her was insane, and often made illegible noises that portrayed his skepticism at what he was hearing. Once or twice he made move to get up, to which the headmaster would respond with a sharp look that made Harry take his seat once again.
"So, you expect me to believe that this whole world is made up, that half of what I've lived is fake, and that people actually believethat this psychotic girl is telling the truth about this?"
"Yes," KayKay and Dumbledore said simultaneously.
"Although 'psychotic' is not the correct term for Miss Determan."
"And saying that half of your life is fake is a ridiculous over-exaggeration. This only affects about one-sixth of your experiences thus far, thank you very much," KayKay added.
"Yeah, right," Harry said blandly. "Well, excuse me if I'm not going to believe this little fairy-tale."
He got up and was walking towards the door when KayKay shouted after him, "Would you like some proof, Potter?"
He stopped, but didn't turn around.
"I can prove it, Harry . . ." she said more softly, standing up and slowly crossing the room to where he stood. "After you see the truth, you can decide for yourself whether or not to believe it. But I swear—it'll go straight from my mind to the Pensieve. No tricks."
He was silent, then turned around and brushed past her, moving back to the desk and sitting in his chair again. KayKay went to the desk and drew her wand, carefully concentrating. She'd specifically decided on portions of relevant memories with the intent of creating a medley of evidence—nothing but the most important and most convincing.
She touched her wand to her temple and closed her eyes. It took her quite a long time, actually. She had to be certain to link the memories in the right order and decide how much of them she wanted to include.
Finally finishing, she placed the chain of memories into the Pensieve and prodded it with her wand.
"Ready?" she asked. Looking highly apprehensive, Harry nodded. KayKay stepped back, indicating for him to enter the memories.
"I'll come in and get you when it's time," she said. "I think you'll do better with this on your own."
Looking once more around the office, Harry took a deep breath, then placed his hand into the Pensieve. It did not hit the bottom of the basin, but continued straight through, pitching him headfirst into the liquid of truth.
¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤
KayKay checked her watch again. Harry had been in the Pensieve for quite a long time—at least an hour. She stood again and glanced into the basin to check his progress . . .
Hmmm. About another five minutes. It wouldn't take long.
There was a knock at Dumbledore's door.
"Come in."
Brian poked his head around the corner. "Albus, I was hoping to speak with you for a moment—oh, hello KayKay," he added brightly.
KayKay willed herself (without success) to not blush as she replied, "Hello, Professor," is a voice slightly more breathless than the one she greeted he friends and other teachers with.
"Now, you were saying, Brian?"
"Er—Headmaster . . ." KayKay interrupted in the politest way she could. When he looked at her, she gave a slight nod towards the Pensieve.
"Ah, yes. Brian, I do hope you'll forgive me, but could we speak a bit later? I am in the middle of quite a crucial discussion."
"Of course, Albus! When should I come back?"
"Don't worry about that, I know where to find you," Dumbledore replied good-naturedly. "Please forgive the delay."
"It's not a problem. It isn't urgent. Goodbye, KayKay," he added with a grin that made her stomach swoop in unexpected elation.
She quickly distracted herself with the Pensieve, aware that Dumbledore was studying her curiously. Deciding that it was close enough to the end of the memory reel to join Harry, she eagerly escaped Dumbledore's scrutiny.
She entered as Harry was observing them in one of their magic-honing practices. It ended not too soon after she arrived.
Harry neither said nor did anything to acknowledge KayKay presence with him, even when she took him by the elbow and they left the Pensieve.
Only when they were again in Dumbledore's office and he'd sat in shock and reflection for several minutes did he turn his head slowly to look at her.
His words simply reiterated an earlier question he'd asked of her on her very first day back to Hogwarts, albeit with a very different tone.
"Who are you?"
No song for this . . . like I said MANY times, it's just a one-shot. Please review anyway! I hope this makes up forthose late chapters this fall . . .