So, I came up with this idea for a Hogwarts Ichatrina AU. And since I don't often finish the multi-chapter fics that I begin writing, I decided to make a collection of one-shots instead. The one-shots will not all be set in the same year (I think that most of them will be from when Katrina and Ichabod are in their last three years at school) and not all of them will be the same in nature (there will be fluff, humour, angst, hurt/comfort...). Anyway, I hope you'll like them!

English isn't my native language, so there might be mistakes.

Ichabod Crane looked at the terrible sight before him, speechless, shocked, terrified. Katrina was lying on the floor, blood oozing from all the open wounds marring her beautiful body. Ichabod wanted to scream. He wanted fall on his knees by her side and try to make things right. He wanted to find a way to fix it. He wanted to reverse their roles, to be the one dying with no one coming to his rescue. Katrina didn't deserve to die. She had to live and make the world a better and more beautiful place with her presence.

"Riddikulus!" he heard someone say behind him and then it all came back to him.

He had stood in front of the dancing mummy, dreading what he would have to face. Ichabod Crane was not afraid of things like spiders and snakes as his fellow classmates were. However, he wasn't sure just what it was that he was afraid of. He was, after all, a Gryffindor; he had been sorted in that house for his bravery.

When the boggart had focused on him, it had revealed his greatest fear: Katrina van Tassel dying right before his eyes and himself being unable to do anything to stop it.

Ichabod didn't sit around to see the shape the boggart took as their professor came to his rescue, making the creature concentrate on him instead and then saying the word that would turn said creature into something funny. Instead, Ichabod silently walked towards the end of the students' line, unable to look at anything else but his shoes. Every other student had faced huge, frightening creatures and had dealt with them, becoming the masters of their own fear. Ichabod, though, had cowered before the boggart, too shaken by Katrina's dying form to find a way to turn that into something amusing and fight the boggart successfully with his laughter.

"Here comes Romeo," a familiar voice whispered to him so that no one else would hear.

Ichabod looked at his friend but did not return her smile. He was still overwhelmed by what he had seen and had a terrible feeling that that awful sight would come and haunt him in his sleep that night.

The smile melted off Abbie's face. A concerned and worried expression replaced it. "Damn, Crane," she said, still in a low voice, "you look as pale as Nearly Headless Nick."

Ichabod heard laughter as yet another student managed to turn his boggart into something funny instead of scary. Ichabod had failed the test.

But now he knew what his greatest fear was: losing Katrina.

Their professor had not been disappointed in him. "Most people, myself included, are afraid of trivial things," he had told Ichabod. "Your fear, though...it speaks volumes about your character, my dear boy."

Ichabod had forced a small smile appear on his face to show his teacher that he appreciated his words. However, he had let himself down. What was worse, he had let himself down in the presence of his fellow third-year Gryffindors. Ichabod was already a great hero of the school, helping the weak and standing up to those who bullied them, using his magic for the good of others, even managing to tame some wild pixies and saving the entire class when they accidentally escaped their cage during a Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. He had also proven himself to be the best in the short-lived (because of the constant explosions and injuries) Dueling Club.

Now he would be forever known as the wizard who could not face a simple boggart.

When he and Abbie entered the Great Hall in order to have lunch, he noticed some Slytherins looking his way and snickering. However, no one dared say anything insulting out loud. Perhaps his accomplishments over the years still inspired some awe among the students.

"Ichabod?"

He would recognise that melodious voice anywhere. It was music to his ears. He strongly believed that if he heard that voice as he drifted over to the other side, he would hold on and fight for his life.

He turned around and, sure enough, he saw her. Katrina van Tassel. Long red hair falling in curls almost to her waist, bright green eyes like emeralds burning in her skull. She was the most beautiful creature that Ichabod had ever lay eyes upon in the thirteen years of his life.

"Katrina..." he said breathlessly (she always had that sort of effect on him).

"May I have a word?"

Abbie looked at her friend and then at the third-year Ravenclaw girl - not that either of them looked at her; they only had eyes for each other. "Well," she said, "I'm really hungry all of a sudden. I'll save you a seat, Crane."

Ichabod nodded although his eyes remained focused on Katrina, drunk on the sight of her. He could look at her forever.

She cleared her throat. Clearly she had something to say but couldn't find just the right words. "I, uh...I heard about your boggart class today..."

And, just like that, the spell was broken. Ichabod, ashamed of his cowardice, looked down. Apparently he found his shoes to be very interesting that particular day.

And then, he felt Katrina's delicate hand on his arm. The unexpected touch made him look up and meet her kind eyes. "You can't believe how touched I was, Ichabod," she told him, her voice shaking with emotion. "And I fear that when we are taught about boggarts, I will see you in the state you saw me..." She paused and took a deep breath, letting the air come out from between her soft lips slowly.

"I won't let anything happen to you, Katrina," Ichabod said suddenly and with conviction. These weren't just empty words. He would never let any harm come to this girl, not if he could help it. He felt like he had known her all his life; and in another era, another lifetime, he would be on his knees before her right now, vowing to shield her from all dangers, swearing to be her knight.

"I make the same promise," she said with a smile on her face.

He returned her smile. Katrina had already proven her worth to the students and teachers at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, especially her knack for healing people ("I could certainly use someone like you, Miss van Tassel!" Madam Pomfrey had exclaimed once, sounding impressed).

Ichabod held the hand that rested on his arm. He handled it gently, like a little bird inside the shelter of his palm. He brought it to his lips and planted a soft kiss between her knuckles. He heard some more snickers from the Slytherin table (probably a result of his old-fashioned behaviour that would much better suit a gentleman of the 18th century than a thirteen-year-old boy living in the 21st century), but he paid them no mind as he noted that Katrina blushed at his gesture. At least she seemed to appreciate the good manners his parents had taught him, and that was all that mattered.

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