Hello pobl (people in Welsh, if you're interested :) )! Nice to see you again (figuratively). Next chapter; hope you like it!


She had been and touched the wall and seen nothing. It had been solid, as solid as rock should be...but there was something important there that she was missing...and then her father, shadow faced and mysterious was hovering in front of her, trying to tell her the answer, and she had tried to hear him, but hadn't ...managed...to...

"Ah!" Catrin started awake, jolting upwards in her bed. The dull morning light seeped through the curtains of her four poster; it was probably going to be around an half an hour before everyone was up. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep without seeing either a faceless father, Hestia Jones or more hauntingly, her mother's familiar features behind her eyelids. Sleep was well out of her reach: on the contrary, she felt wide awake!

Catrin paused- and then reached over the edge of the bed. Her hand teased open the lid of her trunk and slid inside her trusty rucksack, which, despite everything, she couldn't bring herself to throw away.

Once she had found what she was looking for, Catrin slid a jumper over her pyjamas and left for the Common Room, not wanting to stay in her bed any longer than she absolutely had to. That was a trait she hadn't shared with her mother: Gwendolyn had always waited until the last possible moment before dragging herself after her active daughter, most likely to stop her before she did something stupid like try and dismantle the television.

The Common Room, thankfully, was deserted, so Catrin headed for the squishy armchairs right next to the smouldering embers in the fire grate. Sitting down heavily, she glanced around once more, then turned her attention to what was in her hand.

It was a handsome wooden box: about half a sheet of paper in size, and ornamented with ornate swirls which undulated like waves across the carved surface. Catrin smiled, memorising the feel of the box under her fingers. Then she flicked the clasp.

There were only a few things inside. A necklace with a pearl strung onto it, which Catrin would never have contemplated pawning; a letter from her mother which she had never opened; a couple of coins; some items which had been Gwendolyn's and a picture of them.

She drew the last one out, slowly, and studied it for several long moments. It was a snap of a grey street with tall houses behind it. In the foreground her mother, happy and carefree, face unlined.

Catrin touched the dancing grey eyes, so like her own, and the straight brown hair, which wasn't. Who had been the photographer? She wondered. She flipped the page over and read the faint graphite indent- Summer 1996. She had been so young...

"Hello?"

If she had been older, Catrin was sure that she would've had a heart attack. As it was, she screamed, and the contents of her box smashed across the floor, scattering their contents everywhere.

"Oh no!" She gasped. "Wait-" And she dived onto the floor, hands frantically scrabbling at the box.

"Let me. Locomotor objects!" And the objects flew gracefully into the air, settling themselves into the box as though coming to rest after a long flight.

"Ah- thank you!" Catrin clutched her box to her, and turned around to see who had helped her.

It was Teddy, his own eyes wide underneath his mop of blue hair, which, as she watched, turned rapidly to red and back.

"Are you OK?" he asked gently.

"Yes- you startled me." She bit her lip. "I was just- looking. At my box. I mean- at my photos."

"I do that too." He said lightly, sliding into the armchair closest to the fire. "It helps if you look, I find. Do you want to see my parents?"

Catrin boggled at the unexpected question, but recovered quickly. "Erm- yes. Please."

Teddy withdrew, from a pocket of his robes, a rather crumpled photo, which he handed to Catrin as though made of glass. Carefully, she opened the sheet. Inside were a man and a woman, waving at the camera. The woman's hair was fuchsia, almost, and the man's face was careworn and lined with what she thought were scars. But they were both beaming out of the frame: their happiness was tangible. As she watched, the man waved.

"That's lovely." She handed it back, and then, spurred by an embarrassment- "I guess you want to see my mum." Slowly, she drew the picture of Gwendolyn Jones out of the box again, and handed it to him with the same amount of delicacy.

Teddy smiled at the picture. "She's really pretty: not much like you then." Catrin elbowed him.

And then he frowned. "When was this taken...1996? That's strange..."

"What?" Catrin demanded. "What's strange?"
"Well, if the photo was taken in 1996...I mean, she's quite obviously pregnant..."

"Yes." Catrin didn't see where he was coming from.

"Well..." Teddy didn't seem eager to speak. "Well... do you have a sibling? Because you're too young to have been born in 1996- that would make you older than me."

Catrin strongly suspected her jaw had just hit the floor: as it was, she dropped like a stone into the nearest armchair. "What...I have a brother? Or sister?"

"It looks like it...unless your mother was frozen in time, or something like that. Actually, there are spells that can do that, but it can give you cancer..."

Teddy rambled on, but Catrin was lost to that. A sibling! Did she have a sibling? An older one...where were they? Or were they even alive?

"By the way, Harry's coming around to give his talk today, so I won't be able to do writing lessons. Monday afternoon? It was really nice seeing your mother, Catrin." Teddy seemed blithely unaware of the bombshell that he'd just dropped on his student, and handed the precious picture back to her.

"See you soon!"

And he rambled off in that way of his, leaving Catrin to stare stupefied at the fading embers in the grate.

"Cat...come on! What's wrong with you today? If we don't hurry up, we won't get good seats. This is Harry Potter we're speaking about!" Groaned Mary, dragging her reluctant friend along behind her. "Tell her, Alice!"
"I have seen Harry before; he's not something you stare at in a zoo." Alice retorted, linking arms with Catrin nevertheless in order to pull her forwards. "It's like all the first years have Harry Fever, or something! My dad's famous as well!"

"But is he as famous as the Chosen One? There's a reason he's the Chosen One, Alice, not the Chosen Two. Or three. Or four. Or-"

"Alright! I get the idea!"

The tension had been rising steadily amongst the first years ever since Dawlish had announced that Harry Potter would be coming in to give a talk on Defence Against the Dark Arts- in their Transfiguration lesson, though, as that was his only free time. Now, as the first years filed into class, there was a massive shoving for the best vantage point, ending in what could best be defined as a rugby scrum.

Catrin would have appreciated it if it was on a day when she had a clearer head: her thoughts were still fuzzy with her mother's secret life and her possible sibling. Was it a brother, a sister? What exactly had happened to them?

But despite that she still felt a thrill as she sat down in the Transfiguration room next to Mary. If this wasn't interesting- hearing about Dark Arts firsthand from the person who had defeated Voldemort himself!- then nothing would be.

Harry Potter was at the front of the room, his glasses flashing in the morning light and his untidy black hair mirroring precisely that of his sons'. Speaking of which-

"Mornin', Kitty-Cat."

Catrin snapped out of her trance, and twisted round to find Fred Weasley grinning at her. Her first thought was that Fred wanted revenge for their prank before: but then again, how could he possibly know anything?

"Morning, Weasley." She grinned back easily, leaning back with casual guardedness in her chair. "How's life treating you?"

"Not too bad." Fred smiled back, the light from the chandeliers reflecting off his copper-coloured curls. "Although I had a bit of bother last week."
"I'm surprised you'll tell anyone about that- wasn't it embarrassing? Was it you whose pencilcase revolted against them?"

"Maaaybe." Fred's smile dropped like a stone off his face. And then- "Hey! How do you know? You weren't in the-"

"Class!"

The whole room fell silent immediately, as everyone held their breaths. "Look, he's a hero!" Mary breathed.

The 'hero' didn't look particularly heroic to Catrin- black hair and piercing green eyes were all very well really. But she thought she could detect the same kind of feeling that Professor Longbottom gave off: a sort of inner strength. She couldn't imagine him not being a Gryffindor.

"Morning class. I'll ask you to call me Harry; I don't like to stand on ceremony." He smiled, and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I'm going to talk today about defensive techniques and how to avoid being zapped by an enemy- because being a fast runner doesn't always work."

And with that, he launched into an explanation which contained so many different stories of so many different battles that Catrin was mindblown. How had he managed to survive so much unharmed? It was unheard of; it was ridiculous!
"So, to finish off, if you're facing an enemy who you know is more powerful; it's no use using force. You have to outwit them. A shield charm will usually suffice but- Yes? Sorry, what's your name?"

For Catrin had risen her hand eagerly. "Miss Jones, sir- Mr Potter- Harry. How do you use a shield charm?"

Fred and James smirked in unison, but her teacher grinned, clearly as enthusiastic as herself. "Ah, now I'm glad you asked me that. What you have to do is-"

Just then- of all the bad luck! - The bell rang. Harry looked around, startled and ran his fingers through his hair in a gesture habitual of James. "Er- if you have any questions, come and see me! If you still want to find out about Protego, Miss Jones, wait up!"

Catrin had every intention of 'waiting up'. Whilst Mary and the others filed out- Mary dismissing fighting as 'boy's work', and Valerie following faithfully at her heels, Catrin, Alice, Fred and James stayed behind.

James ran right up to his father, and immediately started chattering to him as though there was no tomorrow. Alice and Fred shared amused glances, whilst Catrin sat on the front desk and waited.

Finally Harry turned his attention to her. "Miss Jones. You wanted to learn about Protego?"

"Yes, sir. Harry."

He grinned at her. "Well, it's a powerful charm that prevents an enemy spell from reaching you, by reflecting it back on them. You've got to concentrate extremely hard it, though: a well-placed jinx will shatter it otherwise."

"Can you show me?" James, next to Harry, laughed. It was remarkable how much alike the two were: excepting James' brown eyes and glasses, the two were mirror images of each other.

James' father raised his wand, and all the desks flew to the sides of the room, causing Catrin to leap off hastily.

"You might as well all learn. Get your wands out, everyone; that means you too, James! Right. Everybody say 'Protego'!"

"Protego!" The four chorused faithfully- James with an air of boredom and Fred and Alice looking eager.

From the tip of Harry's wand an iridescent half-bubble blossomed, partially obscuring his body. The other three produced little puffs of smoke. Catrin: nothing.

Frustrated, she shook her wand, causing red sparks to shoot out of the end. This was stupid! It was like her mind had a block on magic. "Duw!" She muttered under her breath. "Gweithiwch!"

"All-right." Said Harry, who didn't seem to have noticed. "I'm going to shoot a stunner at you, James. Try and block it- if you can!"
James grinned confidently and shook back his sleeves. "I'm ready. You're going down, dad!"

"I wouldn't be so sure. Three, two, one...stupefy!"

"Protego!"

A shield wavered in mid-air: and then shattered as Harry's spell blasted through, pushing James into the wall. Catrin shook her wand again. Stupid, stupid!

"There you can see how not to do it. Now you, Miss Jones- what's your full name? I hope you don't mind, but I already know Fred, James and Alice by their first names."

"Catrin." She replied, not concentrating on Harry but on her wayward wand, anger boiling up inside.

"Catrin. Right. Get ready, then. I'll go easy on you. Three...two..."

"PROTEGO!" Catrin yelled, putting all of her fury into the volume of her voice, just as Harry released a bolt of red lightning. Something seemed to break inside her, and a fully fledged charm burst into being just as the stunning spell hit it, reflecting it back across the room and onto her tutor, who flew backwards into a desk.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!" She gasped, as soon as Harry could sit up.

He blinked at her, and then, slowly, his face cracked into a huge grin. "Sorry? Why are you sorry? That was the best first-time shield charm I've ever seen!"

"Oh..." Catrin could still feel power thrumming in her blood and she couldn't deny that she felt fantastic, like a weight had suddenly lifted from her shoulders. Maybe now...

She turned to a desk behind her. "Stupefy!" A jet of light shot from her wand and smacked it into it's fellows. She laughed, exhilarated: and then turned to see Fred, James and Alice goggling at her.

"Why the hell didn't you tell us that you could cast like that?" James gasped- the first to recover.

"I only just found out myself." She beamed back.

"I'll say." Fred sat down heavily. "I thought girls couldn't cast well..."

"Hey! You're friends with me!" Alice elbowed him. "And Ginny- I mean Mrs Potter- is good, as well as Mrs Weasley, and your grandma, and-"

"Alright! Just saving my dignity!" Fred cried, holding up his arms in mock surrender.

"You've already lost it." Alice had recovered the quickest, and she hugged Catrin happily. "This is excellent! Now you don't have to ask for lessons!"

"I'd still like to...now I can blast them and judo them senseless!"

Harry was watching Catrin intently, and when she turned, unable to stop grinning, he actually flinched backwards.

"Dad?" James asked curiously. "You alright? Did the stunner hurt you?"

"No, I'm fine. Catrin Jones...do you mind me asking who your parents are?"

"My mother was Gwendolyn Jones. I think she might have been related to Hestia Jones. My dad...I don't know who he is." But I might have a brother. She added silently.

"You remind me of someone...but that's impossible, of course. Family-wise, though..."

"Who?" Catrin asked urgently. "Who do I remind you of?"

Harry half turned away from her, so the dim morning light cast a shadow over his features. "Of a bad family...who occasionally produce a good person."

"I have a bad family?" Catrin asked, confused, but Harry was already stowing his wand away. "Right, that's enough for now. Whenever I'm in, you can come and see me for wand practise, if you like. Pleasure to meet you, Catrin. Not you three, though." He ruffled James' hair affectionately.

"See you at dinner." And then he walked out, leaving the other four to stare at each other.