Diagon Alley had always been a bustling place, but never was it as bustling as it was the week before school started. Every which-way a person was selling something or buying something or doing something else with another something and overall it was very, very busy.
Katrina Rhinehart was one of those people doing something, though she was much less coordinated than everyone else around her. She held her newly-bought books to her chest, worriedly glancing to the left and stepping to the right, directly into another person and then jumping to the left, nearly knocking down a small child. She wasn't very good at this walking-in-crowds thing, and it didn't help that nearly every witch or wizard was about as organized as a bundle of bouncing Billywigs.
More and more people were crowding around her, a woman behind her shouting, "Bertha! Bertha Boykin, over here, old girl!" and then Bertha shouting over the crowd, "Oh, there you are, Candice! I've been looking for you everywhere!" It was honestly becoming too much, the space closing in around Katrina and making her more and more anxious. A small gap opened up and she jumped for it, latching her free hand to a doorknob and throwing herself inside.
A heavy sigh of relief pushed its way through her mouth as she found the familiar scents of dust and old, wooden shelves fill her senses. It was quiet, calm, and familiar — not to mention practically deserted.
Only one man was there to accompany her, and that was the shop owner. His pale eyes shone with undisguised interest as he watched Katrina, eyebrows raising to the top of his gray hairline.
"Katrina Rhinehart?" he asked in a curious voice. "Sycamore, 12 inches, Phoenix feather? Unyielding whatsoever?"
Katrina nodded, a small blush rising on her cheeks and her scalp tingling just the slightest bit as she grazed her fingers over the wand in her back pocket. "Yes, sir."
Ollivander smacked his lips and nodded, closing his wise eyes. "Yes, yes, I thought so. You haven't changed much over the years, which is surprising. How long has it been? What grade are you going into, fifth?"
"Yes, sir," Katrina repeated, forcing herself to stand a little straighter.
He nodded again, now opening his eyes and peering at her. After a squint and a thoughtful look, Ollivander held out his hand. "Let me see it, then," he said quietly. Katrina pulled out her wand almost immediately, blush deepening in her cheeks as she walked towards him and placed it into his hands.
Ollivander took her wand in his long, spider-like fingers and began to look it over with a certain professionalism that she knew only he had when it came to wands. His fingertips ran over the handle, which had small dips and edges to add grip and a sort of graceful look to the wand overall, and then traced the small, twining designs etched into the length of the wand, nodding his head and mumbling things to himself.
Just as worried thoughts of him finding imperfections and things that would point to Katrina mistreating her wand, Ollivander smiled and nodded his head again.
"You've treated it well," he said quietly. "Just polished it, have you?"
"E-every morning, sir," Katrina stammered out, blushing even harder. The tingling of her scalp became more apparent.
"Good, good," Ollivander murmured as he handed her wand back to her. She pocketed it quickly, relief once again spreading through her veins.
"I, uh," she said sheepishly, "I should probably get going." Shuffling her books against her chest, she motioned to the list she held in her hand with her head. "I've got lots of shopping to do."
"Yes, of course," Ollivander smiled his old, odd smile. Katrina awkwardly returned it, shuffling even more as she eased towards the door.
"I'll, uhm, just be going now," she nearly whispered before clicking the doorknob open behind her back and jolting outside.
She didn't get far, though. Just as the door shut behind her, Katrina slammed her body into another. Blubbering out a quick "Sorry!" she tried to correct herself and whoever she bumped into before noticing who it was.
"Katrina!" Alex shouted in surprise, staring up at his older sister. "There you are! We've been looking all over for you, thought you disappeared!"
"I might as well have in this crowd!" Katrina said frustratedly, huffing as she shoved a hunk of brown hair over her shoulder and out of her face. "They're blooming everywhere, no matter where I go! And even if they're not, somebody's always got to get in my way or talk to me or — or —"
"I get it, Katrina, shut up already," Alex rolled his eyes, taking his sister's wrist and turning around to dive into the crowd. "C'mon, Mum and Dad are going mental. Well, Mum is. Dad's acting like a 5-year-old on Christmas morning."
"Sound about right," Katrina mumbled, looking anxiously around as she held her books even tighter across her chest. Alex tugged her forward, leading her over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.
Over the monochromatic heads of the crowd, Katrina could easily pick out her family. Or, to be more specific, her father. His hair was the brightest shade of green she had ever seen and practically screamed "look at me, I'm different!" He truly was a character.
Her mother, however, was much more normal-looking, with brown hair not unlike Katrina's, glasses, and a small two-year-old baby cradled in her arms. Alex shouted out to them, grabbing their attention. Mr. Rhinehart jumped immediately, grinning and waving them other while Mrs. Rhinehart took to balancing the baby before turning to them.
"Are we getting ice cream?" Alex asked curiously, eyes sparkling as his father wrapped his arm around his shoulder in some form of manly hug.
"I am, dunno about you," he joked, ruffling Alex's hair with his large hands. "Gonna pay for it yourself?"
"Nah, Mum'll buy mine, won't you, Mum?" Alex beamed at his mother, who rolled her eyes and balanced the baby again.
"I suppose," she sighed wryly, smirking and holding the baby a little tighter. Turning to Katrina, she asked, "What about you, dear? D'you want some ice cream?"
"Can I get Triple Chocolate?" Katrina asked, loosening her grip on her schoolbooks a bit.
"I don't see why not," Mrs. Rhinehart shrugged, looking to her husband. She frowned when she saw he was already inside and at the counter, buying him and Alex's cones already. "Your father and brother seem to be one step ahead of us, though."
"When aren't they?" Katrina laughed a little to herself as her mother sighed again and walked into the parlor. Following in suit, Katrina sighed happily as the cool, fresh air hit her face and cooled her cheeks and the door closed behind her with the ringing of bells, muffling the clamor of outside.
Within a few moments Katrina was happily licking her ice cream at one of the many tables outside Fortescue's, watching as person after person and child after child stumbled around in the alley. She would much rather sit here and observe rather than actually attempt to traverse through the street, but she knew that if she did that, she wouldn't get any of her shopping done.
"I've still got to get quills and ink," she said idly to her family. "And some treats for Alphonse. I need to get parchment, too."
"You can head over to Amanuensis and then pop into Eeylops," Mrs. Rhinehart suggested. Katrina nodded, watching as her ice cream slowly began to drip down her cone.
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," she said quietly. "D'you mind if I get some Colour-Change Ink?"
"It's your money, dear," Mrs. Rhinehart said distractedly, busy trying to feed her youngest son his small cup of vanilla ice cream.
Katrina frowned a little, looking at her little brother. "Is Tim alright in this crowd?" she asked. "He wasn't here for last year, Aunt Syl could watch over him then. But she's taking Amber out to get supplies too this year, isn't she?"
"He's alright, don't worry," Mrs. Rhinehart smiled. "And yeah, Syl had to take Amber this year. Terry's got work for the Ministry today."
"Thought so," Katrina hummed to herself, licking her ice cream again.
"Bleh, Ministry," Mr. Rhinehart added, making a funny face before taking a huge bite out of his melting ice cream. Katrina snorted quietly to herself just as her mother smacked his arm.
"Robert!" she scolded playfully. "You work for the Ministry, you dummy!"
"Oi!" Mr. Rhinehart laughed defensively. "Aurors are almost completely different!"
"Yes, but they still work for them," Mrs. Rhinehart said. Katrina's father rolled his eyes and huffed childishly, pouting. Mrs. Rhinehart only laughed along with Alex, who laughed even harder when Mr. Rhinehart's ice cream plopped into his lap.
Amanuensis wasn't as crowded as Eeylops was. Katrina breathed a heavy sigh of relief when she entered the shop filled with quills and ink and things, relishing in the smell of fresh parchment and the muffled whispers and talking between parents and children. Eeylops had been filled with screeching owls, loud cats, gurgling toads, and more — overall it was just a big headache. This was much calmer, much more peaceful. She appreciated that a lot.
Colour-Change Ink was on one of the many shelves on the wall, the liquid inside the little glass vial glowing multiple colors at once. She plucked a couple of them and carefully juggled them in her hands while walking over to the other side of the shop, where the quills were located. All in a line, there were Pheasant quills, Eagle quills, Peacock, and at the end maybe even quills that once belonged to Phoenixes (though Katrina knew these were extremely expensive). The ones that caught her attention, however, were the brightly-colored Fwooper quills.
There was a wide array of blues, oranges, greens, and other hues on the shelf. Katrina took a couple of each, grabbing an extra one or two of the bright blue that reminded her of the sky on a summer afternoon. They were her favorites.
Soon enough Katrina was headed out the door with a small bag holding her things, multicolored feathers poking above the brim. She forced herself to walk through the crowd and look straight ahead, not paying attention to the old women yelling about something in that Gilderoy Lockhart's book from ages ago or the children running around screaming because somebody stole the other's blood-flavored lollipop.
But that fake calm composure fell out within moments. After just four steps, Katrina found herself panicking due to a sudden jostling in the crowd and a new set of voices shouting things to one another that didn't make much sense.
They were headed straight for her.
She couldn't tell much, really. She caught flashes of grins, chunks of laughter, and batches of bright red hair before she was shutting her eyes so tight her head began to hurt.
But the clash Katrina had been expecting never came. The sudden ramming into her chest and shoulders had halted, and the feeling of falling she had been sure she was going to experience wasn't happening.
The sounds of calamity had quieted to an almost deathly silent. But eventually, as Katrina stood there with her eyes still painstakingly shut, the general chatter eased back into her eardrums.
Very slowly, Katrina opened her eyes.
She was face-to-face with a set of chests, each in a thin jumper of olive green. The two of them were so close that if one of them breathed they would bump into her nose. But they weren't breathing, just like her, and were standing on the tips of their toes while staring down at her, surprised.
As Katrina looked up to them both, she recognized them immediately. A small bead of dread slipped into her stomach.
It was the Weasley twins.
The two of them visibly relaxed as they saw Katrina look up at them, settling back onto the heels of their feet and releasing breaths that they had been holding. Grins spread across their cheeks in unison and laughs began to bubble out from them for whatever reason. Katrina began to feel her face grow hot and her scalp begin to prickle uncontrollably.
"Sorry about that, love," one of them said, waving nonchalantly. "We were kind of distracted, didn't see you there. Not at first, anyways."
"But we did see you eventually!" the other one added quickly. "That's why we stopped."
"Th-thanks, I guess," Katrina mumbled out almost inaudibly.
"What was that?"
"She said thanks, Fred," one of the twins said as the other one, Fred, cupped his hand around his ear.
"Ohhhh, alright. Thanks, George."
"Mhm," George responded.
Katrina looked up at them both, the dread slowing growing in her stomach and rising to her throat, tightening it. She couldn't speak.
The twins began to stare at her, making Katrina wish she would stop standing like a frozen cucumber and shuffle or walk away or do something. But she didn't.
"You know," George said, (was it George?) waving a finger in Katrina's face, "I think we know you. Don't we know you? I wouldn't forget such a pretty face that easily."
"Neither of us would, Fred." (Guess not.) "But yeah, I'm with you, mate. I swear we've seen you around somewhere, love. What grade are you in?"
Katrina opened her mouth to answer, but no words came out other than a strangled "uh." One of the twins, she was fairly sure it was Fred, didn't wait for her eventual answer and instead plucked on of the books out from her arms.
"Hey!" Katrina blurted out without thinking, reaching for her book. Fred held it out of her reach as he read the cover. "That's new!"
"She's in our year, George," he said to his brother, sending him a wide smile as he continued to hold the book high above his head. "See this? The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5. She must've been in our classes."
"Must have," George agreed with a nod.
Finally, after a bit of useless bouncing from Katrina, Fred lowered the book and let her snatch it out of his hands with a laugh. Her scalp felt like it was going to burst into flames — yet she still didn't walk away.
George tapped his chin a couple of times, raising an eyebrow at her as if she was being examined.
"I know I know you," he said. "I know everyone in our grade — well, we both do. Maybe not by name, but I know your name. I remember you had the best grade in Transfiguration last year. What was it?"
He began to mumble things to himself, Fred jumping in occasionally.
"Megan?" Fred asked.
"No," George shook his head.
"Amelia?"
"Nope, that's not it."
"Carrie?"
"No, no — but that sounds close, maybe?" George rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring Katrina over. Her cheeks were blazing.
"Cassie, Claire, Kendra, Kara," George said to himself, furrowing his eyebrows together. "Christina?"
"Katrina!" Fred suddenly burst out, making Katrina jump. "Katrina Rhinehart!"
"Oh, that's right!" George laughed to himself. "I remember us talking about that last year! Remember, we were cleaning up the trophy room for detention —"
"Again," Fred said.
"— and we found that case that listed off the awards Gryffindor's Quidditch team got, and you know, James Potter was on there as Chaser, and so was Robert Rhinehart as Keeper. They had been on the same team, and the reason why we noticed was because of the girl in our grade, Katrina Rhinehart! We figured she must've been his daughter or something."
" 'Course, we don't know your dad or anything," Fred said after George finished, "but we thought it was interesting. D'you play any Quidditch?"
"N–"
"Probably not," he answered his own question. "You weren't in your house's Quidditch team, were you?"
"Doesn't mean she doesn't play, Fred, " George said. Fred shrugged.
"True, true."
"I don't play," Katrina squeaked. She cringed at herself because of it.
"What? Really?" Fred shouted.
"It's not like I don't like it," Katrina forced her voice to even out, sending Fred a look that was almost withering. "I love watching it. I'm just no good at playing it."
"Well, that's weird," the twins mumbled to themselves.
"My brother's the one who plays," Katrina cleared her throat a little, shuffling the books and bags in her arms carefully, looking at them rather than the boys' faces.
"Ohhhh," they chorused.
"That makes more sense," George said.
"Is he on the team?" Fred pried curiously.
Katrina rolled her teeth over her lips before replying. "Yeah. Hufflepuff Chaser."
"Why isn't anyone a Beater?" George mumbled quietly to himself.
"What year's he in?" Fred continued to poke, looking more and more interested in Katrina and her family as their conversation continued. Katrina didn't like that at all. Being interesting to the Weasley twins was never a good thing.
". . . Third," Katrina answered eventually.
"Oh, same as Harry!" George said with a growing grin.
"And Ron," Fred added, "though nobody cares about him as much."
"Don't forget Hermione."
"Well, yeah, but if they don't really care about Ron, then what makes you think they care about Hermione?"
"Ouch. Harsh much, Fred?"
"Never said I was the nice one, George."
Katrina scowled to herself. That was rather rude, wasn't it? She knew who Ron and Hermione were along with Harry, they might as well be famous at Hogwarts because of the things they've done in their past two years of school, but the way the twins talked about them gave her a bit of a dry taste in her mouth.
To keep them from noticing her scowl, though, Katrina shoved the sleeve of her shirt up higher to see her watch. It didn't actually tell time, but it did say "A GOOD WHILE BEFORE TEN." That was enough of an excuse for her.
Sucking in a quick breath, she looked up at Fred and George again, jamming words together in her mind and hoping they were enough to get them out of her way.
"I, uh," she spluttered out, cursing herself mentally as she spewed on, "my parents are probably looking for me, we — um — we're gonna be leaving for King's Cross soon."
"Aw, really?" Fred whined, his shoulders sagging comically. "But the train doesn't leave for another hour almost!"
George, however, was looking over his shoulder, a somewhat anxious look crossing his face. "Yeah, well, I'm afraid Mum's caught on to us, Fred. We might wanna head out before she sees us."
Fred looked behind him and groaned, agreeing. "Yeah, guess so."
The two of them swiveled back to Katrina, making her jump as they both grinned in unison.
"Well, love, we've got to be off too," George said.
"But save us a few seats on the train, will you?" Fred began to shout as he jogged past Katrina, George close on his heels.
"No," Katrina said to herself under her breath as the twins disappeared into the crowd, their red heads of hair bobbing in the distance. "No, no, no. No, no, no, no-no-no-no."
She shivered, feeling her nerves tingle from the base of her spine all the way up to the back of her head. Katrina began to walk back to the Leaky Cauldron, where her family was currently meeting, muttering "no, no, no, no, no" under her breath, paying no mind to the stocky redheaded woman stomping her way past.
If she thought Diagon Alley was crowded, then Platform 9¾ must have been packed tighter than a can of Billywig wings. Everywhere witches and wizards were kissing the foreheads of their children, telling them to not forget this and that, to do well in school, and how they'll see them at Christmas. Katrina faced her own parents, holding a ratty old suitcase with one hand, the other carrying a large cage with a positively huge owl perched inside of it.
Her father smiled, raising a hand to ruffle her mousy hair. Katrina laughed a little, letting her shoulders loosen.
"Have fun at school, Sweetheart. I'm gonna miss you."
"I'm gonna miss you too!" Katrina said, leaning into her father's shoulder as he enveloped her in a hug. Mrs. Rhinehart finished smoothing out Alex's hair with one hand, juggling Tim with the other before she turned to Katrina and kissed her cheeks.
"Be careful, darlings, and write us as often as you can!"
"Yes, Mum, we know," Alex groaned, shifting his multiple bags of luggage in his hands. "Can we board the train now?"
Mrs. Rhinehart sniffed. "Well, yes, I suppose so. But you could at least wave us goodbye from your compartment."
"Yeah, yeah," Alex rolled his eyes, a smile growing on his lips while he turned around. "See you at Christmas!"
"Bye Mum, bye Dad," Katrina told her parents, looking at them both and smiling somewhat sadly. As much as she loved school, she always missed her parents' company.
"Bye Sweetheart!" Mr. Rhinehart laughed, waving his hand.
"Goodbye, love," Mrs. Rhinehart said, giving Katrina one last rub on the shoulder before letting her go.
Katrina sucked in a breath, nodded, and turned away from her parents, looking straight ahead at the Hogwarts Express and not daring to notice the bustle around her or to look behind her at the familiar comfort of her parents' faces. She marched to the train, stepping onto it while holding her breath, and almost mechanically finding an empty compartment and carefully placing Alphonse, her owl, and her suitcase of luggage on the top rack.
She sat down on one of the two empty benches, breathing silently to herself and playing with her fingers. Multiple people were passing by her compartment, she could see them in the corner of her eye, the only separation between them being that glass door. It was a little nerve wracking, but she would find her way past it. She always did. Besides, school was different from everywhere else. Yeah, there was lots of movement and roughhousing sometimes, but if she didn't pay attention to it and just made it to class she felt perfectly calm. Classes were nice. All the students sitting down and listening to the professor, then doing their work to the sound of quill scratches. . . she found it relaxing.
Glancing at the window, Katrina could see her father's bright green hair over the heads of the crowd. She smiled a little, scooting closer to the window and waving at him and her mother. Despite the distance Katrina could see their grins from where she sat as they waved enthusiastically back at her. She grinned, waving even more vigorously.
The train lurched. Alphonse hooted overhead, momentarily disgruntled. Katrina sat back in her seat as the overwhelming noises of those outside began to seep into her compartment, growing louder as the train began to slowly drift away. She breathed through her nose, closing her eyes and sinking into the plushness of the bench. Soon it would all die away into the rhythmic chugging of the train's engine and all would be right in her world.
But it didn't.
Katrina jumped nearly two feet in the air as her compartment's door clanged open, two redheaded boys barging in along with a black boy with dreadlocks. They were all laughing loudly and asking Katrina things that were jumbled together so much she couldn't understand in her astonished state.
"Wh-what?" she choked out as the three boys threw their luggage on the rack, the last one closing the door behind him.
"Why do you look so surprised, love?" one of the redheads asked. Katrina's face fell significantly. It was the twins and their infamous friend Lee Jordan, who called the scores at their school Quidditch games. "We told you we were gonna sit with you on the train."
"No," Katrina squeaked out, "you told me to — to save you seats! And I did nothing of the sort!"
The twins raised an eyebrow each, looking at Katrina and then at the (obviously quite empty) seats of her compartment. Well, she supposed they did have a point. . . though it didn't make her very happy.
"Not on purpose anyways," she mumbled quickly. The boys nodded, apparently accepting her answer.
The black boy then stepped forward, holding a hand out to Katrina for her to shake. Carefully, she did so, eyeing him the whole time and hoping there wasn't some loud buzzing contraction attached to his hand — you never knew what to expect with the twins and their friend. But luckily, nothing happened.
"I'm Lee Jordan," he said. "Best friend to the ever-so-mischievous Weasley Twins and lover of all things Quidditch. And you are Katrina, I take it? Sister to Alex Rhinehart?"
"Y-yes, but —" she started to asked how he knew she was Alex's sister, but then she remembered (odd, how she just forgot something she only thought moments ago) that Lee was a commentator for their Quidditch games. He knew all of the player's names and numbers by heart. And surely he remembered her from classes or the twins had mentioned her name at some point, so it wasn't hard to believe that he knew that much about her. "Never mind."
"Sorry to crash your, er. . . party," George — or Fred? She couldn't tell them apart — said. "Not only had we promised to give you a visit, but all the other compartments were already full. 'Suppose that's what happens when you wait as long as us to board the train," he chuckled to himself, plopping down on the seat directly across from Katrina. The other twin followed in suit, and Lee ended up sitting beside her. So far, she liked him the most — he was just as unruly as the other two, but at least he seemed to have some semblance of manners.
"You looked lonely anyways," Fred — or George? Could their mother even tell them apart? Katrina swore even their thousands of freckles were identical — snickered quietly. He and George (Fred?) lifted an ankle to their knees in unison. Katrina furrowed her eyebrows together in a mixture of confusion in curiosity. Did they script these things out? Probably.
"I am not lonely," Katrina mumbled quietly, shuffling as close to the window as possible and making a point to stare out of it than to any of the boys. King's Cross was a ways away by now. Suddenly, she felt as if she would much rather be home. Usually she's quite happy to be on her way to Hogwarts but today. . . not so much. "I simply enjoy my privacy."
"Do you now?" One of the twins asked. Katrina decided to stop trying to figure out who was who. It's not like either of them mattered to her. "Well, that's awful peculiar."
"If we remember right, you looked awfully, well, scared to be alone in Diagon Alley. . . ." the other continued. Katrina visibly stiffened.
"Yes, well," her voice began to raise slightly, though it was rather shaky, "Diagon Alley is quiet different from my own compartment on the train. In the Alley there are people, tons of people, and so many voices and — and everyone is loud and — and, well, I just don't like crowded places that aren't in order."
"Then why in the hell are we interested in you?" one of the twins asked.
"That's the complete opposite of us!" the other exclaimed.
"Chaos is our life source!" the two of them chorused.
"Maybe it's just 'cause she's so pretty, Fred," George must have whispered to her brother.
"Maybe, George, maybe," Fred whispered back. Katrina glared out the window now, growing furious yet to afraid to say anything. She was squeezing her fingers in one hand and her knuckles were starting to hurt. The skin of her scalp felt as if it was prickling like a dog's hackles when risen. "Or maybe it's because there's more to her than her pretty little looks. . . ."
Katrina's head snapped back to the twins without her permission. The two redheads were snickering to themselves, and as she looked to Lee he almost looked tempted to laugh with them, but once he looked to her he had a more concerned expression.
"Are you alright, Katrina?" he asked.
"No," Katrina huffed quietly, curling into herself and the corner of her seat, staring back outside the window. "Just leave me alone," she mumbled.
"Oh, c'mon, Trina —" the twin sitting in front of her started to say, but Katrina, growing quickly annoyed, snapped at him before he could finish.
"Don't call me Trina," she whispered harshly. "Just leave me alone."
"Fine, fine," the twin grumbled. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the twin sit back in his seat and cross his arms. "Be that way, then. S'not like we were trying to show you a little fun or anything."
"Leave her be, Fred," the other twin said. "She's not interested in us, so we won't be interested in her."
At this point Katrina's fingers were numb, but she didn't care. The boys started to talk, Lee sounding a little more concerned at the beginning of their conversation but easing up within a matter of seconds. The twin that sat in front of Katrina — Fred, she had gathered — sounded more miffed than the other for a good ten or so minutes. But she decided to stop paying attention to them a long time ago.
After hours and hours of thoughts that began to make no sense and wishful thinking, Katrina did finally start to listen to the boys' conversations. She wouldn't let them know this, of course, keeping her face pointed to the window and eyes on the scenery. But she had to admit, they were pretty funny. She hated that.
And Katrina especially hated it when, after one of the twins told a particularly funny story of how they had pranked their great-aunt Muriel, George spotted her biting her lips in an attempt to conceal her quiet laughter.
"Oh, well would you look at that," the twin cooed, "looks like Trina finds us funny after all!"
Katrina stiffened once again, and the familiar prickling of her scalp had returned. She had been caught.
"Is that so?" Fred asked coyly, turning to Katrina with a smirk she could practically hear. "So is little miss Trina Rhinehart not as strict and prude as she seems?"
"I was never strict or prude in the first place!" Katrina whispered harshly, turning her head to glare at Fred. Lee quickly intervened, raising his hands defensively.
"Now, you three — yes, George, you too — don't start arguing! It's not getting anyone anywhere but upset."
"It's her fault!" Fred and George quickly defended themselves. Katrina made a noise of protest.
"It's all of your faults and you know it," Lee said, leaving no room to argue. "Now play nice before you start waving your wands at each other all willy-nilly, you're actually making me worry that one of us is going to start a fight."
The rest of them were silent, but the tension was so thick you couldn't cut it with a knife.
Eventually, the twins huffed together and muttered a couple "alrights" to diffuse the tension. Katrina eased a bit, but a sudden feeling of apprehension wasn't allowing her to calm down completely.
And then she realized that the train was slowing down.
The boys seemed to have noticed it also, Fred peering outside the window. "Are we there already? We can't be — it hasn't been that long yet!"
"I agree — something feels. . . off." Lee agreed. As the train continued to slow, he raised from his seat and moved to the door, sliding it open. As he did, Katrina could hear the murmurs of other students doing the same. Lee looked one way down the train, and then the other. Turning to the twins, he shrugged.
The train lurched and creaked loudly as it stopped, much more suddenly than Katrina would've liked. It was now that she realized how harshly the rain and wind was whipping against the windows. It was much darker than any night she had seen. The moon was nowhere in sight, hidden by deep black clouds. And then the lamps shut off and she felt her anxiety peak.
"Did the train die?" she asked in a much louder voice than she had spoken to the boys in all day. "Are we stuck? What's happened? Is there something wrong with the track?"
"Don't know," one of the twins said.
"Hope not," said the other.
Katrina couldn't see anything. There was no light whatsoever, they might as well have plunged into total darkness. Thoughts started racing through her head, things like abandonment and breaches and Death Eaters and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and —
"Lumos!"
She jumped loudly as one of the twin's wands — Fred's — lit their compartment. She was breathing very heavily now and on instinct she had clasped her fingers tightly in her hand. She didn't even notice the pain in her cracking knuckles.
"Are you alright, love?" George asks. It took a moment for her to process the question before Katrina shook her head.
She jumped again at a sudden movement from outside the window. It looked like a long, black cloak — but then again, everything looked black. Katrina wished words to fall out of her mouth but nothing happened.
"You look like you've been scared by a ghost," Fred whispered. Katrina jumped again and looked at him, wide-eyed. The air was getting colder, there were shivers going up her spine and goosebumps trailing along her arms. "And — did your hair just turn bloody red?!"
No reply came from her as the sentence failed to process. Katrina found herself too busy focusing on the door, which had just been closed by Lee. Something huge and black had just passed their door — this time she was sure of it.
Katrina's lungs felt as if they were blocks of ice, and by the looks on the boys' faces, they felt the same. Her heart was racing she felt the pounding of blood in her ears, thump thump thump thump thumpthumpthumpthump—
And either Fred's wand flickered out or her vision went black.
It felt like only moments before Katrina woke up. The lights were back on and there was a light roaring in her ears from the chugging of the train. They were moving, everything was back to normal. Had it all been just a horrible nightmare?
But then she realized, as she looked around her compartment, that the twins and Lee were not looking at her but rather at a new face that had entered, a man that seemed vaguely familiar. Katrina didn't know where she had seen him, probably some old picture in her home somewhere, but he looked older than he should. Graying hair, the creases of small wrinkles. . . . He couldn't be much older than her father, though.
"Are you alright?" the man asked. Katrina blinked a couple of times, still feeling groggy.
"Uh — yes, I think so? I think. . . I just had a nightmare. . . ." she said quietly, the second part mostly to herself than anything. The man gave her a sympathetic look.
"I'm sorry to say it, my dear, but you didn't suffer from a nightmare. Everything you witnessed happened only not too long ago."
"Wh— what?" Katrina whispered in reply, knitting her eyebrows together in confusion.
"A Dementor — one of the guards of Azkaban —" Katrina shivered involuntarily as the man explained, "boarded the train as a search for any sign of Sirius Black."
"Sirius Black?" Katrina squeaked to herself. The man who had escaped Azkaban, the wizard prison. Her parents, Mr. Rhinehart especially, seemed to hold a deep hatred for the man. She knew very well what he had done, as her father had told her. It sent shivers down her spine at just the thought. "You mean he was on the train?"
The man smiled. "No, no, he wasn't. They were just checking to make sure. I wish they wouldn't thought, scared many of you kids out of your minds. . . . And understandably so!"
"You're telling us," Fred said. "Her bloody hair turned red!"
"What?!" Katrina looked to Fred in shock. "It — it what?!"
Fred looked at her and nodded excessively. "Yeah, yeah! I'm not kidding! George and Lee saw it, too! Didn't you, boys?"
George and Lee quietly agreed with him. Katrina, growing more and more anxious again, found herself glancing between them worriedly and then to the man she didn't know the name of, who was giving her a curious look.
"Turned from brown to red? Miss, are you a Metamorphmagus?"
Katrina's shoulders slumped as her plan crashed and burned all around her. She had been so careful — so careful! — over the past four years to hide it, she didn't want all of that extra attention, she didn't want to be a freak, she didn't want anyone but her family to know and here she was, in the same compartment with the loudest Hogwarts students in the entire world and they were going to know.
"Yes, sir," she sighed dismally, "I am."
The boys looked to her incredulously as the man gave her a perplexed look.
"Why do you look so upset when you say that?" he asked. "You have a gift. It's nothing to be ashamed about."
Katrina looked at the man and didn't reply. She honestly didn't have an answer to give him.
But he didn't pry any more, he simply broke something in his hands — Katrina only just now realized he was carrying chocolate — and handed her a piece.
"My name is Professor Lupin," he said as he handed it to her. "Eat that, it'll make you feel better. I have to go and speak to the driver. . . ."
And he left. Katrina looked out the window once again, pulling her knees up to her chest as she nibbled her piece of chocolate. She wished she had the time to really appreciate it's flavor before the boys started to ask questions.
"You're a Metamorphmagus?" all three of the chorused. Katrina nodded silently, still looking out the window.
"Why didn't you tell us!" the twins said.
"That's amazing!" Lee agreed loudly.
"I don't want to talk about it," Katrina mumbled.
"Why not?!" George asked.
"We've never met one before, but Dad talks about them sometimes, saying they're bloody good at loads of different transformations — even animals, you know —"
"I don't want to talk about it," Katrina repeated, this time a little more stern. The boys became silent for a few moments.
"Why not?" Lee asked quietly. She pulled her knees closer as she finished her chocolate.
"Because everyone will think I'm a freak, that I'm just some object to laugh at and do tricks like some circus Pegasus," she said quietly. They were quiet again.
"Why in the world would you think that?" Fred whispered back. Katrina looked at him from over her knees and saw his face contorted in genuine confusion. "Metamorphmagi, they're amazing — do you know how long it takes for somebody to train to become an Animagus?"
"Years," George answered quickly.
"Yeah, what he said," Fred continued. "And you lot, you can just change into whatever you want to whenever you feel like it. I don't know about you, love, but I think that's pretty amazing."
Katrina stared at Fred for a few moments, and then to George and Lee as they nodded their agreement.
Alright, so maybe she had been a bit harsh. Maybe they weren't the worst students ever. Maybe these boys were a lot better than she initially thought.
But they were still the loudest blokes in all of Hogwarts history.
Author's Notes
LOUD FARTING NOISES
SO THAT ONLY TOOK FOREVER AND A DAY, RIGHT?
But hey, I did say i was gonna bring it back. Eventually. It's been over a year, but I've grown a lot and so has Katrina. She's very different from the beginning of Innuendo, as I'm sure many of you old readers can tell. I have many more underlying themes with her that I'm planning to bring out and present much better than I did previously. Now these chapters aren't probably going to be this long usually, it'll probably fluctuate between 4,000-6,000 words with 4,500 being about the norm. I've had many experiences this year when it comes to relationships, so I have more fuel to add to this story and more realistic circumstances that Trina's gonna go through. Right now my basis is to make her as real of a person as possible, and to inspire all of you guys to learn what I did when I finished Innuendo — to accept yourself.
With much love, Wolfy B. Toes-Free