Chapter 1: Particularly Unexceptional
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and no copyright is intended. Everything that you recognise from the Harry Potter Universe belongs to J.K Rowling.
~ Final Chapter Sneak Peak ~
She couldn't hear anything but the static in her head, and felt nothing but the numbness in her hands. In the end, they were all made of flesh that can be cut, and bones that can be broken.
He was upon and around her quicker than she could blink.
She had fulfilled her prophecy. She was done. Free from her responsibilities to the world. She could do anything. She could be anything. But she so desperately just wanted to be his.
Katherine closed her eyes, falling against him with her full weight for the very first time.
He held her up and she listened to his heart pounding through his shirt and knew that everything was going to be okay.
She had taken the long way around but she was finally home to stay.
Through dust clouds of collapsed castle – over the bodies of young and old alike; of friends and nameless faces, Katherine could see the sun shining on the black lake. The way it always had done.
It was the most beautiful summer's day.
...
Spencer. It was a perfectly normal last name. Quite unremarkable in London. Particularly unexceptional. As was fifteen-year-old Katherine, who shared it with her Aunt and Uncle that she lived with.
She didn't live with her parents, her Aunt and Uncle had told her that they had died in a fishing accident off the Isle of Wight when Katherine was four. And she had been sent to the middle of London to live with them. Not that it was often that she was actually with them.
She went to a boarding school, St Mary's, for the school term, and then on the first day of summer holidays she was shipped off to a football camp in Manchester.
And camp was where she was returning from on the last day of August, walking through the bustling streets of London in the afternoon sun from Kings Cross Station.
Between the horns of cars, the two way foot traffic, and the blinking crossing signals, it was enough to disorientate anyone. But Katherine had been doing it for years. Sometimes, she could swear that she would have a trip from the train station to her Aunt and Uncle's without bumping a single shoulder. People always seemed to stumble out of her way at the very last minute.
But just a street shy of her house, Katherine overheard a peculiar conversation on the corner of Grimmauld Place.
"Muggles everywhere," sniffed a woman who would have been quite beautiful if not for her sour expression, "Can't even whip out my wand to fix my hair when the street's in such a state…"
"Mother, can I go to Dervish and Bangs while you go to the bank?" asked an indifferent teenage boy in the same bored, aristocratic tone, "I need a new telescope or else I'll struggle in astronomy this year."
"Why didn't you tell me when we went to Diagon Alley last week for the rest of your school things?" The woman said shrilly before sighing, "Never mind, you can get your telescope while I visit the vault,"
"Not that you'd fail astronomy… half of your family's in the bleeding sky..."
Katherine must have slowed down, entranced by the strange words exchanged between the woman in the blue box-pleat dress and her teenage son, because she knocked into someone.
There was a flash of blond hair; the colour of the summer sunshine beating down on them. And then it was gone.
Katherine turned around and caught the back of the man she had ran into, the incident over so quickly that she could only see his lithe figure loping away from her and not his face. By the time she turned back, the mother and son were gone.
Katherine continued on her way, wheeling her suitcase behind herself.
Tucked away in North-Western London, a twenty minute walk from King's Cross Station, lied Number 24 Claremont Square. It was a skinny townhouse, perfectly rectangular. And inside where the most square people Katherine had ever met.
The black spiked fences all began to blur together once on Claremont Square, Katherine indifferently watching the gold door numbers as she passed them.
21…22…23…
The latch beneath her hand was a cold that only metal could be. Opening the gate, the hinges didn't squeak– they never had. Uncle Henry had a handy-man come out every couple of months to keep the house in tip top condition. Just before she put her key in the door, a bicycle bell halted Katherine.
She turned, key in the lock, and watched a dark-haired boy in an immaculate suit lazily zig-zag down the street on the thin metal contraption. He turned, as if sensing Katherine's gaze. But neither could see the other clearly from their distance.
His dark head of hair disappeared around the block into the glare of the bright sunshine. It was odd, Katherine was sure she had seen him before, but she couldn't remember from where…
Shaking her head, Katherine turned back and opened the door to Number 24. The door had barely clicked closed when Aunt Victoria's voice sounded.
"Katherine! Is that you?"
Katherine swiped a stray strand of hair from her face, "Yes, Aunt Victoria!"
"I've put some tea on!" Aunt Victoria continued to call, still not visible to Katherine, "Come back down after you put your things away!"
And that was what Katherine did. She put her suitcase of dirty, sweat-filled clothes by her hamper, and changed into a skirt and blouse that would pass muster. At the base of the stairs, she slipped on her kitten heels and flattened her hair before navigating the front hallway to the kitchen.
Aunt Victoria was sat primly on a stool at the kitchen island, the tea set in front of her. She wore her finest heavy grey woollen utility skirt suit, pressed to perfection. She had, undoubtedly, had her circle of friends over earlier in the day.
Katherine sat beside her and reached for a teaspoon to add her sugars to the cup Aunt Victoria had set out for her. After the third teaspoon, she put down the silver utensil and stirred carefully.
"Gently, Katherine." Aunt Victoria reprimanded her coolly, lifting her thin nose and pursing her small lips.
"Sorry, Aunt Victoria." Katherine said automatically.
Aunt Victoria sniffed, as if licking her wounds.
"Don't apologise, Katherine," Aunt Victoria said, her nose and cup lifted, "Just show a little more care."
As Aunt Victoria took a sip, Uncle Henry breezed in, smoothing back his already smooth peppered blond hair with the palm of his hand.
"Katherine."
"Uncle Henry." Katherine replied with the same tone of protocol.
As Henry Spencer worked essentially twenty-four hours a day, constantly on call for clients, he never read the morning paper. Instead, he would sit down in the kitchen and read it in the evenings.
But first he carefully shrugged off his beige jacket, leaving on the matching vest and his wide maroon tie.
"Will dinner be soon?" Uncle Henry asked, fluffing the newspaper and leaning back to squint at it.
Aunt Victoria stood from her stool immediately, forgetting her tea cup, "I'll start it right now."
"Splendid." Uncle Henry murmured distractedly.
Katherine sipped her tea and had nothing else to think about bar her trip home that day. She filled her cup again, added her three sugars, and began stirring as her thoughts also stirred about.
"Uncle Henry?" Katherine asked, unsure if she should bother the man with her silly inquiry.
"Yes?" Uncle Henry breathed, his eyes still glued to page 6.
Katherine licked her lips and abandoned her spoon in her tea cup.
"What's a muggle?"
Uncle Henry stilled behind his newspaper, but Aunt Victoria continued to bustle around them preparing dinner.
He lowered his newspaper. "Why do you ask?"
His eyes darted from Katherine to her teacup, alerting Katherine to the fact that the teaspoon was still circling the teacup on its own.
Katherine cleared her throat and caught the spoon. She finished the stir with a quick smile to Uncle Henry and extracted the spoon from the cup.
"I overheard a lady saying it in the street today," Katherine explained herself, laying the spoon down carefully on Aunt Victoria's best tea tray, "I just thought it was a curious term."
Uncle Henry's eyes were still on the offending teaspoon.
"Probably just some slang." Uncle Henry insisted, gulping and going back to his newspaper.
"So you don't know what it means?" Katherine pressed.
"It sounds awfully like a word to describe the mundane," Uncle Henry postulated tiredly, glancing up, "Did the lady look well-off?"
Katherine thought back on the lady's well-pressed box pleated dress and glossy black hair.
"Well, yes, now that you mention it." Katherine conceded, feeling very young beneath her Uncle's gaze.
"There you go," Uncle Henry said, looking back to his newspaper, "Just an elitist."
Victoria seemed to come down with a sudden cough, her eyes on the table cloth imported from Spain.
Katherine knew that Aunt Victoria came from a good family, but the townhouse they lived in was bought by Henry. He was a well-known corporate lawyer, but Katherine was sure that lawyers didn't make that much.
Most of their neighbours were politicians or old money. Henry certainly wasn't a politician, but Katherine didn't know if the Spencer family were old money. If they were, surely she would have eccentric bejewelled grandparents that would have come and swept her away for a life of being spoilt with love and affection by now.
But, for as long as Katherine had remembered, it had just been the three of them. Victoria visited her family's country estate for holidays, but Katherine was never home for the holidays. She had spent every Christmas and Easter at school since she was six, painfully aware that she didn't fit into their life.
When dinner drew to a close, their plates cleared of chicken and asparagus, Aunt Victoria daintily dabbed at her lips while catching Katherine's gaze.
"You're doing the dishes tonight, Katherine, don't forget."
"Yes, Aunt Victoria." Katherine said, promptly standing and clearing the table.
Filling the sink, Katherine sighed and mumbled under her breath, "Sometimes I wish I could just say abracadabra and they'd be done…"
Uncle Henry cleared his throat and stood up.
"Dinner was lovely," Uncle Henry said with a hand on Victoria's shoulder, "I'm going upstairs to take a shower."
Their lack of touching didn't faze Katherine anymore. They weren't affectionate people. Katherine couldn't remember ever being hugged or having her hair stroked.
By the time Katherine finished the dishes, it was dark outside. Just before she set foot on the stairs to go up to her room, Victoria's voice rang through from the sitting room where the television was gently playing.
"Katherine, double check the post please!"
Katherine resisted a sigh, let her shoulders slump, and trudged to the front door.
There were no letters to be seen inside the mail slot on the floorboards, but Katherine opened the door in case a package was left on the doorstep.
It was when an early evening breeze rushed against Katherine's face that she felt it chill her to the bone. The street looked as it had done for the past eleven years that Katherine had lived there, but it was strangely quiet, considering it's placement in the bustling section of the city. Muffled voices and a brief flash of black preyed on Katherine's paranoia. There were always gangs around the city, and other shady characters to boot. The night wasn't a time to be outside in the street unless one was up to no good.
Katherine failed to see the sources of the muffled voices. Trying to calm herself, she only let herself think that one of her neighbours had someone visiting–
"Katherine,"
Katherine froze at her name before recognising Uncle Henry's voice. At that, she marginally relaxed. But she still couldn't tear her eyes away from the street, worried that something may happen if she so even blinked.
"There's a pot of green powder on my desk, throw a handful of it into the fireplace and repeat what I am about to say very clearly,"
Katherine nodded to show that she was listening.
Henry's knuckles were white around the front door.
"Claremont is compromised, send the Order."
Katherine didn't question her Uncle, she never did– not aloud anyway, but his tone of voice indicated that this was even less of a time to ask if he'd taken a fall recently.
After a thick moment of silence, Katherine turned and took the stairs two at a time. She had only ever been in Uncle Henry's office a handful of times over the years. It was on the third level of the townhouse, chosen to be out of the way as Uncle Henry worked late nights often.
Katherine burst through the door to the small, red room and sure enough, found a pot of green powder on his desk. She took a handful and then knelt by the fireplace. After only a split-second of indecision, Katherine threw the powder in. The orange flames roared a brilliant emerald green.
"Claremont is compromised, send the Order." Katherine called into the fire, putting her dignity to one side.
She waited, but nothing else happened. Half-disappointed, Katherine left the room to re-join Uncle Henry at the front door.
Between Uncle Henry's office and the front door, a commotion erupted outside.
Her stomach swam away from her and Katherine hurried, almost falling down the stairs with her speed. She flung open the front door and found four cloaked figures advancing towards her front gate. The light from the street lamps glinted off their silver masks.
Panic rose in Katherine's throat and her legs felt clumsy. Her hands found the door frame; clinging to it.
"What's going on!?" Victoria wobbled out breathlessly as she stopped behind Katherine at the door.
"Avada Kedavara!" one of the masked figures hissed.
Uncle Henry stepped back, splaying his arms to cover Aunt Victoria.
A green jet of light shot out of nowhere and Uncle Henry fell like a discarded doll. The green ebbed around Katherine's vision. The words, so similar to the ones she had spoken at the sink, rang in her ears like a train whistle.
"No!" Victoria wailed thickly.
Katherine was pushed into the doorframe as Aunt Victoria scrambled around her. But Aunt Victoria didn't make it to Uncle Henry. A second jet of light struck her on the front steps.
Katherine's eyes were dry: stuck open, staring down at the pair.
It felt like hours had passed as Katherine stared down at the two; her eyes keen for any movement. The dishcloth was blown from Aunt Victoria's stiff shoulder, but her chest didn't rise. It was then, unequivocally lost, that Katherine thought she might like to be struck by a jet of green light too.
"MOSMORDE!"
Katherine's eyes lifted to the cloaked men that hadn't stopped like her world had. One had a stick of wood pointed up at the sky, while another was pulling up his left sleeve.
Katherine shivered under the new green glow over the street, looking past the street lamps to find a skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. It was unlike fireworks; a permanent, ugly fixture against the night sky.
But then there was a flash of blond hair out of the corner of her eye. And then brown, and black…
Not just green, but red, purple, and pink lights lit up the street. A skirmish had broken out. People not wearing masks or hoods had arrived in a flurry of soft POP's.
Like… magic…
"They've called him!"
A cloaked figure ran for Katherine, gloved-hand outstretched.
Katherine had the sense to stumble back– away. But her shoe caught on the uneven pavers and gravity pulled her to the ground. A pulsing, hot pain in her tailbone made her gasp. But with the man still advancing, she used her hands to propel herself backwards, hoping… just hoping–
"Petrificus Totalus!"
He halted suddenly, an ice-blue glow encapsulating him. With wild eyes and stiff lips, he fell onto her.
Katherine shrieked at the weight atop her; trapped. Vehemently, she pushed at the man. She even tried to roll out from underneath. But it was all at a loss.
Just when she was ready to accept being stuck there for the rest of the night, she was freed from the weight of the man. Katherine scrambled up in time to catch sight of a lithe, blond man leaping away with a stick in his hand.
She watched him while she crawled behind a rubbish bin for cover.
The blond man came face to face with one of the silver-masked cloak wearers.
Katherine had to duck a purple jet of light. It hit the rubbish bin, reducing it to dust. Katherine's stomach vanished along with her cover. On her hands and knees, keeping low; Katherine scrambled behind Mr Bennet's Volkswagen parked on the street.
Her eyes found the blond man and the cloaked man once again.
They both had their sticks of wood raised. But then they just looked at one another for a moment. A long moment, considering that they were in the middle of a clash.
"How'd they find her!?"
"They saw him with her at Grimmauld Place!"
The blond man's face was imperceptible, but he stumbled back and into action at the yelled words of his comrades.
The cloaked man turned also, his eyes finding Katherine unnervingly quickly. The lack of his identity, skewed by his silver mask, made Katherine sick with fright.
She ducked back behind the car, closed her eyes, and tried to breathe. But all that came out of her chest was a strained sound of resignation. She wanted to be anywhere but there, with her life hanging in the balance.
It was with her eyes closed, that she could only hear the fray continuing around her.
"Bloody hell!" a voice exclaimed, "When I get my hands on him when we're through here–"
An audible, sudden chill silenced the man and stalled the skirmish. It wrenched Katherine's eyes open with peculiarity of it. Both sides of the fight had stopped. Looking around, she found that all eyes were on her. She realised far too late that they weren't staring at her, but at something behind her.
She turned and found a sucking hole of flesh. And then it was on her.
If she thought that she was cold before, she was hypothermic as she tried to pull her head back from the slurping flesh. She could hear screaming, but it wasn't her own.
A warm hand closed around Katherine's arm; a semblance of normal temperature.
"Expecto Patronum!"
Katherine opened her eyes in enough time to watch a cloaked creature be hurtled back by a ball of bright, white light. When it disappeared from sight, she turned her attention to her saviour; the man illuminated by the red and green burst of lights from the resumed skirmish.
The church clock around the corner started chiming loudly. Katherine thought that such an ordinary sound had no business in such an extraordinary situation.
"He's coming!" a raven-haired man cried to his plain-clothed comrades.
Katherine's saviour scanned the fray around them with protruding brown eyes, the whites large. His mop of curls were permanently tousled in the constant rushes of air around them.
"You will incur the wrath of the Dark Lord for intervening here tonight!"
"Oh, piss off, Nott!"
Eight chimes…
"Who…" Katherine's mouth was dry, "Who are you?"
Nine chimes…
"Who's coming?" Katherine tried again.
The long sleeve of his black robe tickled her wrist as he pulled her tight against him without a word.
Ten chimes…
The sensation of being squeezed through a tube overcame her abruptly; all air left her lungs and her shoe left her right foot.
Eleven chimes…
And then, as quickly as the man had pulled her to him, she was on all fours; emptying her tea and biscuits into a bush conveniently at her feet. Eyes wet and face warm, Katherine wiped at her lips and looked around. They were no longer on Claremont Square.
Twelve chimes…
They hadn't missed a chime; and yet they were standing one block over in the nature reserve outside Grimmauld Place.
Katherine was vaguely aware of the man shucking off a robe and stowing it behind a bush.
"What…" Katherine's breath was still hard to come by, but she pointed back in the direction they came from, "What was– that?"
"Apparation," he answered, not meeting her eye and instead vigilantly scanning their surroundings, "Instantaneous teleportation."
Katherine shook her head at the nonsense, "Who are you?"
He checked his watch, "Felix Giles; Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he still didn't meet her eye, "You can call me Giles."
Katherine blinked once.
"Witchcraft and wizardry…" Katherine repeated, her tongue working around the foreign words, "Like, magic?"
"Like magic," Giles confirmed with a tight smile that dropped quickly.
He poked his head out of the gate, unlatching it with his fingers as he watched the street.
"We need to call the police!" Katherine cried, looking down and mourning her right shoe alongside her relatives.
"We need to get walking."
He strode quickly, but Katherine followed him, she had nowhere else to go. And he seemed safe. But her tentative trust of the man didn't stop her from being suspicious about the lunacy he was sprouting about magic.
"Did you not hear me?" Katherine asked at him, "We need to call the police! My Aunt and Uncle are… are…"
The night air made the word 'dead' harder to say, her tongue cold but her eyes hot.
Giles sighed, shaking his head and opening his mouth to speak but sirens blared instead of his words.
At the edge of the pavement, Giles put out an arm that Katherine ran into. Numerous police and ambulances sped past, turning right onto Claremont Square, a block over from the edge of Grimmauld Place where they were halted.
"The muggle authorities will take care of your Aunt and Uncle," Giles said blankly, but then something flickered in his eyes.
He turned away, turning his head either way to watch the traffic, before stepping off the gutter to cross the street.
Katherine hurriedly limped after him, torn between taking off her left shoe and wanting to keep at least one foot clean.
"And as for those who did it," Giles continued, shaking his head with bitter twist of his lips, "They won't end up in Azkaban."
"Azkaban?"
Giles tilted his head, hesitating. "The wizarding gaol."
"I've had a very long night, if you're having me on… I'll… I'll…" she lost her words as they stepped into the full light of a street lamp.
It was as if Al Pacino had stepped off of the screen at the theatre on Shaftesbury Avenue that Katherine had seen 'The Godfather' at. The light passed, the pair cast into shadows once more, and Giles was looking at Katherine in horror.
"Merlin," Giles breathed, big eyes unblinking, "Did Harry not teach you anything?"
The fact that the man used such a fond nickname for her Uncle wasn't lost on Katherine. No one called Uncle Henry 'Harry' and remained on good terms with the man.
Giles blinked, once, twice… and then watched his path again, shaking his head and muttering "Jealous squib…"
Katherine caught, yet another, unfamiliar word– and a strange error in the numbering of Grimmauld Place. There was no twelve. Just eleven, and then thirteen straight after… She had lived a street over for eleven years, and never noticed it on the numerous times she walked the street.
"Squib?"
Giles made a dismissive gesture with his hand, still looking ahead, "A non-magic person from a magic family."
He spoke a little more quietly than before, most likely because of the busy main street they had just stepped onto from Grimmauld Place.
Scantily-clad girls stumbled arm-in-arm…groups of young men in bell bottom trousers swayed with bottles in hand, laughing at something escaping Katherine…neon lights consumed Katherine into something other worldly...
The brisk breeze and the eyes of leering men on her skin made Katherine cross her arms and walk closer to Giles. Her saviour didn't seem all that concerned, his eyes ahead and his mind somewhere else entirely.
Katherine thought back on Giles' explanation.
If Uncle Henry knew about magic… that meant… it meant that her father was… was magic– and perhaps her mother too. But… Katherine was completely ordinary. She had never done anything of sort she had seen that night, not even in her dizziest daydreams.
Katherine tucked her hair behind both of her ears and began wringing her hands. Her dirty, scuffed kitten heel gave her a limp– the other absent. She couldn't feel her feet carrying her.
"Are you sure I'm not one?" Katherine asked, inclining her head to not let any passer-by's read her lips, "A squib."
"Very sure," Giles said, looking ahead.
Katherine mused that her disbelief must have been loud on her face, even if she didn't voice it, because Giles glanced at her. He looked back straight ahead, squinted, and then turned back to Katherine.
"Look," Giles began, his breath visible in front of his face, "Did you ever make anything happen?" he glanced back forwards to watch his step, "Something unable to be explained?"
The sound of the teaspoon clinking around Aunt Victoria's expensive china unaided clunked around Katherine's brain. People were conveniently swerving out of her way even then, like they always seemed to do.
Katherine frowned and shook her head, "Well, coincidences… coincidences happen to everyone."
Giles looked back at Katherine, his face caught in an unreadable expression.
"Not to you." Giles said firmly, a flicker of something passing through his large brown eyes.
His words, the familiarity he seemed to have with her, wasn't lost on Katherine.
"How is it that you know who I am?" Katherine finally asked, stepping around a fire hydrant.
Giles faced forward, "A story for another time."
Katherine halted everything; her thoughts, her feet…
"No." Katherine crossed her arms.
Giles stopped a step away and turned back, squinting. A green light turned red behind him, casting a strong glow. Katherine resisted a flinch.
"No?" Giles repeated, glancing around them.
People passing them were giving the pair strange looks. Their curiosity was well-founded; Katherine had grazes and dirt all over, she was being difficult…he was annoyed… They both knew what it looked like to an outside observer.
"You show up out of nowhere– and just kidnap me," Katherine whispered furiously, endeavouring to not be overheard, "I want to know how you know who I am."
Katherine knew that she was acting like a petulant child. But she couldn't stop. And, with a heaving chest, she stared up at Giles.
He had stilled and stared back down at her. He didn't blink.
"Your parents didn't drown on a fishing trip," Giles said suddenly.
He sighed, looked either side of himself, and fixed Katherine with a tired look.
"They were murdered by the darkest wizard the world's seen," Giles said before he paused and nodded down at her, "And now he's after you."
Murdered. It was one thing to know that your parents had died, but… murdered? The picture she had in her mind of her parents, that she had held a candle to all of her years, was somewhat sullied.
"Why?"
Giles nodded in indication to keep walking, "That bit I don't know."
Katherine begrudgingly fell back into step with the man and thought quietly as she looked down at her crossed arms.
"Was it in the newspaper or something?" Katherine pressed, trying to catch his eye and not walk into him, "Is that how you know who I am?"
Something flickered in Giles eyes as he glanced at Katherine. But he nodded curtly.
Katherine turned away, recognising his reluctance on the subject, and mulled over everything that she had learnt. In the space of a few short minutes she had lost her guardians, her normalcy, and her naivety.
Her eyes took in London; the way it always had been. The way that it had always been hiding another world just out of her peripheral vision.
But what was expected of her now?
"I've got nowhere to go, where could we possibly be going?" Katherine asked, her curiosity rejuvenated, "They're expecting me at St Mary's tomorrow–"
"It's September 1st," Giles said with an incredulous glance at Katherine, "The train to Hogwarts leaves at 11 o'clock."
Katherine turned her mind back to him saying he was a Professor at this 'Hogwarts' place, meaning that it was some kind of school…
"You… you don't mean to say that I'm going to this Hogwarts place?" Katherine all but spluttered.
Giles wasn't perturbed, his sights set on something up ahead.
"Castle," Giles corrected her casually, "And yes, I do."
"But I don't have any books or–"
"We're going to Diagon Alley first to get your school supplies." Giles informed her, stopping by a sign to the underground and looking around.
Katherine stopped in front of him, her heel close to the gutter, and resisted a laugh.
"Diagon Alley?" Katherine repeated, her tongue struggling around the foreign name, "We take the underground to this magical place?"
Giles almost looked amused.
"At–" Katherine checked her wristwatch–"One in the morning?"
Giles produced a stick of cherry wood; gleaming smooth apart from six rings at the base.
"Not the underground," Giles said lightly, looking around with visible effort to appear inconspicuous, "This is just a clear spot to call the Knight Bus."
There was a thickness to the moment. A feeling of a joint between what Katherine had known up until that point and what was awaiting her. It was in the face of a new world that Katherine found herself clinging to her old one. She remembered her Aunt and Uncle, and felt instantly guilty.
"What about… what about their Wills' and funerals… I…I can't just leave them there…" Katherine stammered, feeling her eyes burn.
Giles looked upon her with immediate understanding, but his face was otherwise impassive.
"And all of my things–"
Giles held out his right arm, the stick of wood in his hand, "Will be taken care of,"
There was a loud BANG and then a midnight blue bus slowed against the curb.
Alarmed at the ear-splitting arrival, Katherine glanced around but found not an eye on them or the bus.
Couldn't they see it?
A man that strongly resembled a pipe cleaner with eyes moseyed up to the door from the inside and leant on the pole, eyeing a card in his hand with a bored expression.
"Welcome aboard the Knight Bus; emergency transportation for the stranded witch or wizard," he droned, sighing and blinking, "My name is Dave Jenkins and I will be your conductor this evening."
Dave Jenkins looked up, raised his eyebrows and waved an arm in indication that Katherine and Giles step aboard. He peered behind them all the while.
Giles stepped up, paused, and waved Katherine forward.
"No baggage this evening." Giles said as he turned back to Dave Jenkins.
Dave nodded and retreated into the bus, "Well, come on, then," he hit the back of the driver's box, "It's a busy night– Tuesday, you know..."
Giles turned back to Katherine once more, "What are you waiting for?"
Katherine didn't know. She couldn't go back to her house. She officially had no remaining family members that she knew of. If she didn't go with Giles, she would become a ward of the state.
So she steeled herself and lifted her bare foot onto the cool metal step first.
"Wait,"
Katherine halted, looking up at Giles questioningly.
Giles looked down at her remaining left shoe, "Will you kick that off already?"
Katherine hesitated, staring at the shoe she had worn numerous times over past years. But then she swivelled her ankle up, stepped up onto the bus, and let the ivory suede shoe slip into the gutter.
Dave pulled lightly on a crank that slammed the doors shut behind Katherine. And then the lights of the city were blurring past sickeningly fast. Katherine followed Giles' lead and sat in an armchair against the windows. She was embarrassed to ask Giles and questions about the bus in front of Dave, she didn't want to appear as if she didn't belong.
Dave was unfazed by the ludicrous speed and jarring turns that made Katherine's knees regularly hit Giles', and casually leant against the back of the Driver's box.
"Where are we going this evening, Sir?" Dave asked, righting his navy fiddler cap that neatly matched the rest of his uniform.
A particularly sharp turn in the middle of a busy intersection sent Katherine from her seat. But, before she could go headfirst into one of the occupied rolling beds, Giles' arm flashed out. Katherine's collar bone met the back of his elbow unpleasantly.
"The Leaky Cauldron." Giles said, retracting his arm without even a glance to Katherine.
Katherine sat beside him, rubbing her chest for a moment, before looking around.
It was real. Magic was real. And what was better? Katherine was magical.
It made sense that magic folk had their own means of transportation, but Katherine was curious to how it went undetected. She assumed they used spells of some kind, with their wands. Well, that's what Katherine assumed the sticks of wood she had seen firing jets of light all night were called.
She had seen magicians pull rabbits out of hats... cut people in half… use vanishing cabinets with what must have been imitations. Because surely that sort of magic was tomfoolery to people like Giles and Dave…
In the beds rolling around the open floor of the bus, were snoring men and women of varying ages and degrees of shabbiness. Katherine saw wands in hands and poking out from beneath pillows. One particularly shrivelled old woman, sleeping with boots and her hat on, snored so violently that gold sparks shot out from the end of her wand.
Smiling to herself, Katherine turned away, feeling somewhat ashamed for staring. Instead, she found her own reflection in the windows on the opposite side of the bus. The night sky made her stark against the smattering of rain drops and neon signs, and she frightened herself.
Her eyes were swollen and her hair was tangled, dirt and cuts peppering her skin. It was then, in her first moment of calm for the night, that Katherine discreetly used her collar to dab at her eyes; feeling very silly for doing so. She hadn't even realised that she was crying.
But, it seemed that Giles had, for he cleared his throat and tapped out a short tune on his knee.
Giles nodded to Katherine's bare feet, cold against the linoleum lining the bus floor, "Aren't you a bit young for those shoes you were wearing?"
"Aunt Victoria buys– bought…" Katherine took a deep breath before finishing her answer, "She bought me the same things she wore."
"Since you were four?" Giles asked, his face screwed up.
Katherine pushed away her curiosity at his knowing of the age she was when her parents died. It was probably in the newspaper, she reminded herself.
"Just about," Katherine answered, stiffening her posture for show, "We Spencers have a reputation to uphold."
High teas, gala's, and grand openings were what Katherine had been raised around. The only trousers she was allowed at home were pyjama trousers and a pair of jeans for cleaning days. Stockings were on the cards most days, a click of Aunt Victoria's tongue being a strong suggestion to change if Katherine ever forgot.
Giles blinked strangely, his throat bobbing.
Katherine frowned, relaxing into a more natural position that would give her Aunt an aneurism, "What?"
"It's nothing." Giles said lightly, shaking his head gently, his eyes taking on a distant glint.
Katherine looked down at her hands that she wrung in her lap, waiting for the weird air to pass from between them.
"How do know my Uncle?" Katherine finally asked.
Giles took a long breath and watched a bed almost collapse in front of them, "I lived next door to him for a time."
"You lived on Claremont?" Katherine asked, stunned that she hadn't ever noticed him.
Giles shook his head, his lips pursed.
"I lived next door to your grandparents."
Katherine's mind positively hummed with questions at his casually thrown words.
"Did you know my father?" Katherine asked, bobbing in her seat.
Giles gave a curt nod, his eyes firmly on the window, "I'm sure you've heard all about him from your Uncle."
"No," She said quietly, shrugging and tucking her hair behind both of her ears, "I haven't."
Giles' eyes slid back to her–
"Leaky Cauldron, Stoney Street." Dave announced.
Katherine didn't believe that they could have arrived at their destination so quickly. The bus was still hurtling along at sickening speed.
A long and loud SCREECH made Katherine grip the arms of her chair. She knew better than to assume the bus would stop like a normal bus.
And it didn't. If Giles hadn't clawed his hands into the arms of his chair, he would have knocked his head into the back of the driver's box. The rolling beds bunched together at the front of the bus, slowly rolling back from the sudden lurch.
Giles gripped Katherine's elbow and led her from the bus, giving a rushed 'thank you' and 'goodbye' to Dave Jenkins. And then they succumbed to the crisp night air again. The pavement was wet and rough beneath Katherine's bare feet, and the breeze went straight through her blouse.
"Take her away–" was the last thing Katherine heard from Dave Jenkins before the bus disappeared as quickly as it had arrived for them. Another deafening BANG echoed around the street long after it had left Katherine's sight.
Giles' hand around her elbow pulled Katherine out of her reverie and through a black door.
Loud chatter and the clinking of tankards contrasted the quiet street they had stepped in from. A short bar had labels on the taps such as 'Butterbeer', 'Elven wine' and 'Ogden's firewhiskey', brands Katherine had never seen.
The next thing that drew Katherine's eye was the over-sized fireplace that people were stepping in and out of, barely grazing their heads. Before they could be burned by the orange flames, they threw in powder that turned them green–
"Leave enough floo powder for the rest of us, Fawley." a stocky man grumbled at a lamp-post-thin man with a dripping fistful of green powder.
Giles guided Katherine to a stop at bar and leant over it to call over the bartender. But Katherine's eyes were stuck on the fireplace. It was like her Uncle's. He really had known about magic… always linked to it without her or Aunt Victoria being any wiser…
The swaying men, dressed in floor length robes that looked very alike to dresses, disappeared into the green flames. No one seemed as alarmed as Katherine at the development. It must have been normal to travel by fire in the magic world, Katherine thought to herself.
"Tom," Giles said, finally catching the attention of the balding man behind the taps, "A room please."
Tom slapped down a tankard of frothing gold liquid and accepted thrown gold coins before he produced a key, sliding it across the bar to Giles.
"Aye, Felix," Tom said, his eyes and mind evidently elsewhere, "Room number seven."
Giles made a fist around the key and used his other hand to pull on Katherine's elbow once more. They had to navigate around cluster of small round tables and one long galley before they reached the staircase. They went up without pause, the sound of chatter and clanking cutlery settling beneath them the higher they went.
In the upstairs hallway, a new noise presented itself. A train shook the windows, screaming along below Katherine's feet. Dust lifted from between the floorboards and Katherine resisted a grimace.
The doors were a dark green with peeling gold numbers. Number seven was nearing the end of the hallway on the left. The small bronze key revealed a shoebox room with one bed and a threadbare rug.
Giles shuffled in past Katherine and went straight to the small fireplace, squatting by it. His back hid most of what he was doing, but when a sudden warmth spread through the room, Katherine didn't need to see the flames flickering out of his wand tip.
Katherine, unsure of what to do, padded over to the rain-dotted window.
"Go ahead and sleep,"
Giles' voice turned Katherine around, her hands gripping her upper arms.
He stood half stiff and half relaxed, his hair tickling against his forehead which gave away that it hadn't been an easy night for the pair.
Giles rubbed one eye to the point of exploding it in his eye socket, "I've got to contact everyone involved in extracting you tonight…"
Not allowing her a chance to question him, Giles retreated through the green door, closing it behind himself.
On her own for the first time that night, Katherine stood in the centre of the room and just looked. She didn't have to run, or duck, or keep up with Giles' long strides. She just looked. Something that she had taken for granted up until that night.
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! :)