"I've had it!" I announced, to no one in particular. The room was empty, the seats cold. I sighed and ran a hand through my tangled mess of hair.
A chill ran through me and I tightened my arms around my body in a crisscross. The threadbare sweater that Molly Weasley had knit for me the previous year was not helping with the brisk fall air. Even the castle walls didn't prevent it from penetrating into the classroom.
Katrina was a monster. I had decided that yesterday, when she first set me off. She was trying to show her dominance over me. I wasn't buying it. If she wanted to have a good old-fashioned duel to decide who got the top position, I'd be all for it. Unfortunately, she was playing passive aggressive—something I just didn't do.
Underneath her modelesque exterior, I knew there was something brewing. I couldn't put my finger on it. I guess it's just an Auror's intuition. I wanted to tell Minerva desperately, but what could I claim? I hadn't caught her doing anything illegal…All I'd have to back me up were gut feelings and dirty looks.
I rolled my eyes and walked quickly to the door. There'd been a light tapping for quite some minutes, but only now was I addressing it.
"What?" I asked in annoyance. It had interrupted my train of thought.
"Katrina and I are headed out to the Hog's Head for a drink." Lincoln informed me, and I felt my insides boil. "Care to join?"
"Pass." I answered flatly, and went to shut the door. His hand intercepted the motion.
"Not so fast." He pushed the door open, successfully knocking me over. When I regained my balance, he circled me like a vulture. "Why do you loathe her?"
"Who says I do?"
"Oh, please. Don't be defensive, Et. It's clear you don't like Katrina."
"So 'don't like' translates to 'loathe' these days?"
"No. But you don't give her the time of day at meals. You look away, even when she speaks to you. It's rude. It's not the Ettie I knew."
"The Ettie you knew was a lie." I seethed. "Besides, she stares me down like she's trying to kill me with her gaze!" I threw my hands up in exasperation. "It's her fault."
"If you say so." He shrugged, and made for the doorway. "Have a nice dinner alone."
My fists clenched at my sides. He knew I was lonely without George here. Lately, he'd been spending extra time at the shop to raise money for the wedding. We had most of it covered with savings, but he wanted there to be a few extra special details, and that would cost us. He hadn't the time to visit me as often as we'd both like.
I pushed past Lincoln and stormed towards Katrina's office. I knew I may have made a scene, and that was not my style, but I didn't take tormentation lightly.
"So Katrina, Kat, Rina…" I began, reveling in her surprised and caught-off-guard wide-eyed look. "Let's get down to it, shall we?" I leaned against the leather couch where a stack of old potions books lay. "I don't like you. You don't like me. Whatever our reasons, we just don't."
"So we're square then." Katrina said in a voice that could be perceived as sweet and innocent to the untrained ear. But I'd heard enough bullshit in my life to know when someone was putting on a show.
"No. We're not square." My hands found themselves on my hips. "Let's get something straight. You're not from here. You never went to Hogwarts. Me? I grew up here. It was all I had. Minerva is like my second mother, and no matter what you do, nothing can change that. Irma? A little rough around the edges, sure. But she'd back me on anything because I caused her a little less loneliness and hurt than the others. Flitwick. My head of house, and house pride runs deeper than blood, sometimes. Poppy Pomfrey. The sweetest woman around, underneath it all. You can charm her. Get her to give you a friendly hug. But it will never change the fact that we healed people through the Chamber of Secrets, the Tri-wizard Tournament, and the war."
"Your point?" She asked in a bored tone while examining her pure red nails.
"My point, is that I have seniority over you. You may be a head of house, while I am not. You may have every male's heart in your pretty, manicured hands, while I do not. You may have fooled Lincoln. But I am more loved here in Hogwarts. This is my territory. They'll support me, if it comes to that."
"A stand-off, Ettiella?" Her blue eyes were teasing me, full with faux-disapproval. "Why would it come to that?"
"You know why, Katrina." I looked her in the eyes intensely, hoping to make an impression on her.
"Too bad for you, Miss Song…but I don't know why. I have a guess though… you're jealous."
Katrina approached me and lifted her delicate hand to my feathered mop of hair. She traced a long finger across my cheek and then smirked. I tensed.
"I'm the Three Broomsticks to your Hog's Head. The crisp, new robes to your tatty sweater." She brushed her hand over the weak cover-up that bore the letter E. "I know that you loved Snape. You'd probably kill to take the same subject as him. And I just…got it." She cocked her head the side. "And I'm head of house, to boot. You must be pretty insecure to have to come and confront me over what is non-existent. I'm not evil, Ettiella. I pray for your sake that you're not taking after your dear, deceased Mad-Eye. Otherwise you'll soon be jumping even Minerva in her office."
I had to take a deep breath to keep me from shoving my wand down her throat. It was difficult to resist…
I knew that if I addressed any of the slights or insinuations spoken by her, it would only mean victory for her.
"There are people who are put in Slytherin. Sometimes they live up to it, sometimes it's wrong. And then, there are the people who choose it. Maybe my presumption about you is wrong, but I don't think so. I'm rarely wrong."
She had nothing further to say to me, so I excused myself and glared at Lincoln in the hall.
"Have fun at the bar."
I felt bitter, and pure distaste. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was up with her…
It could, of course, just be my instinctual dislike of Slytherins. After all, some had done me wrong.
Then there was Severus, who had not and proved to the whole wizarding world that the sorting hat could make the wrong decision.
With a heavy heart and mind, I retreated to the hospital wing to share dinner with Poppy.