Chapter 24: My Destiny, by Cathy
Very few of the summer days, or nights, are yours to keep. This is the way it has always been.
When you lock the door of your room, without magic, because you are underage, so that you can snatch a few hours of studying, they roll their eyes and ask you how long you expect to pursue this foolish infatuation with "magic". Your face burns; thankfully they cannot tell. You ponder the true infatuation that motivates you.
McValley.
You can never tell them what he means to you. You can never tell him of the way you secretly run to him whenever you have a spare moment – to borrow books, to ask for essay advice, or to share a cup of coffee.
You are careful to never mention his name, and if your mother or father brings him up in conversation, you make vague comments about him being A Good Teacher, about his unorthodox but effective techniques, about the way he may not be useful for mediocre students, but is absolutely necessary to put the finishing flair on the crème de la crème – this is why he is better than Manion, you will say later, and you respect him deeply.
But you've moved beyond respecting him, you revere him.
"And so, war in Asia has broken out. I want to hear your opinions on it," he says one day.
"I don't believe any sort of war is justified," you say. "Not even this one between China and Japan, the tensions of which really have existed for centuries."
"Really?"
"They're fighting for Korea like children over a toy."
"Darling, that is a vast oversimplification…"
"But war always ends up in the death of innocents – the civilians – hapless bystanders." You are not one who likes conflict. Ravenclaws never are. What they like best – like their aquiline mascot – is to sit on the fence in peace.
"True, but Cathy," he says, "You have to wonder, without this war, people were being tortured and killed nevertheless. Perhaps a price must be paid for peace to settle in once and for all."
"So…you believe a war can be justified by its ends?" McValley is a staunch Utilitarian.
"Of course…if the war leaves a stable society in its wake, think of how many innocent lives can be saved!"
And he goes on, until your coffee is cold and forgotten.
C.I.A.R.C.
Albus and Gellert were her last links to the magical world that summer. The only people within shouting distance who didn't think her magic was a fairy-tale, to be mocked or shelved away once she was no longer a child. Indeed, her magic was a force to be reckoned with.
She wasn't a flat-chested child being forced into corsets, into an arranged marriage and into a dreary adult muggle life – she was a child of the prophecy. She was priceless, and Gellert assured her of it every waking moment.
"Caesar's Triumvirate fell apart because it was, literally three men, which left half the world unrepresented. It could not last."
The third time she ventured into Godric's Hollow that summer was because Gellert had invited her on a picnic with Albus in Bathilda's gardens, where they had become acquainted with each other. There was no need for a blanket; Bathilda's grass was soft, dry and thick, an ankle-deep carpet in itself.
Gellert nearly sat atop her favourite blue skirt, which fanned out from under her like a creature spreading its wings. He stroked her sleeve, unfashionable though it was for its lack of shape, and tugged at her hair until it fell out of its neat net.
"Why do you pin your hair up like that?" Gellert asked, untangling the net and removing her hairpins.
"I'm old," sighed Cathy, leaning her head against his shoulder. "In the muggle world, when girls become women, they let down their hems and turn up their hair. It's supposed to be symbolic."
"It doesn't mean anything," said Gellert, now toying with her loose hair. "You're only as old as the woman you're feeling."
She swatted him playfully for that innuendo. "Would you rather have me plaiting it into pigtails?"
"How does it all fit on your head?" he asked. "You have so much hair for such a little girl. What a funny, tiny and furry and dark little thing you are…more little Heathcliff than little Cathy…"
She batted him again. Gellert picked up a strawberry from the basket in front of him. "Open up Kit," he said, holding it by the stem to her mouth. She parted her lips without hesitation, and purred quietly as the sweet juice ran down her throat. She loved fruit, more than meat or vegetables, and even more than chocolate.
Although possibly not more than ice-cream.
"That does it," said Gellert. "I henceforth christen you 'Kitten' – do you like that, Kitty?"
She rubbed her cheek against his shoulder in assent.
Then, framed by the five-storey fountain of perfect circles, Gellert had recited a prophecy made by the child prodigy, the Seer Vablatsky, to her and to Albus. It told of three children: a witch and two wizards, one muggle-born, one "outcast" and one orphan, one poor and two rich, with wands made from unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, phoenix tail feather, willow, vine wood and holly. One of the children had red hair and a long nose, another had curly hair, and the last had dark hair and was thin, rather like a shadow.
Gellert spoke to Cathy first, taking her hands and pulling to her feet. "Kitty! What did you tell me your wand was made of that first night we met – was it holly and unicorn hair?"
"Yes," she replied, remembering the moment when Gellert pulled it out of her, nearly tearing her corset and earning himself a slap. The boy had said something about the "Deathly Hallows", which Albus then proceeded to explain to her. The three Deathly Hallows were enchanted objects which(that?) appeared in a well-known wizarding fairytale. Instead of Cinderella, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty, wizarding children were read stories about Babbity Rabbity and the Three Brothers.
He took them to the Godric's Hollow graveyard – in fact, he carried her there – and she made a mental note to add this pose to her sketch-book. They had spent the rest of the day making plans to fulfil the prophecy and unite the Hallows. They created a piece of "psychic paper", Cathy christened it, in the hope that it would turn into a map leading them to the objects. None of three were quite sure why it failed, but Cathy proposed that it was too small, and came up with the more elegant, though less portable, idea that they could make a mirror.
"Then we'll just have to write 'I show not your reflection but your heart's desire' backwards!" said Gellert." Is that convoluted enough for your labyrinthine mind?"
"Twisted mind?" Cathy nudged him, and whispered in his ear. "Look who's talking!" She had heard Gellert rant about his dreams of A New Age, to purge the world of the Evil mentioned in the Prophecy, on the very night they had met. That was his life's purpose, he said. He only had one shot at life, and he was going to give it everything he had.
"We are going to rebuild society. Restructure it. We are all witnesses to the great conflict between magical and non-magical people," he said darkly, knowing Cathy was thinking of her parents, of the brother she had lost. "And we all know that the more you attempt to suppress something, the more it will fight back against you!"
"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it," she quoted. "It's Oscar Wilde."
"I know," said Gellert. He winked at her, which made her feel fuzzy inside.
"You weren't joking," said Albus. "About the New Age Empire. All those plans – you weren't joking at all, were you?" Poor Albus – he must not have taken Gellert seriously.
"I always tell the truth," Gellert said. "I know you hardly dared to believe me, both of you, because you think I'm younger than you are. But age is no matter, I tell you. What matters is that we are the three whom Fate has chosen to bring Wizards and Witches out of suppression, to take their rightful places in society. I think it is time."
Cathy applauded him.
"But for now, the hour is late," Gellert sighed. "I know I must not keep Kitty-Kat any longer, for her mama and papa will have discovered her secret. At least come back next Friday – for my birthday, won't you?"
"I – can't," Cathy growled. "Maybe Thursday. We're going into London and I might be able to escape for a few hours. But Friday's my presentation day."
"Your what?"
She had to explain to him. "I'm a Debutante this season, I'm 'coming out' into society and I have to be properly presented…it's an insane little muggle tradition to show you've come of age. I have to meet the Queen."
And he told her that she, Cathy Carlton, would be the Queen one day! Queen – presumably standing by her King's side.
Ecstasy bubbled up through her better than the best champagne possibly could.
C.I.A.R.C.
"Ca-the-rine!"
Cathy's mother flung back the star-spangled curtains, and the girl hurriedly snapped Tenets of Transfiguration shut.
"I told you an hour ago that we were leaving for Lady Armitage's garden party in twenty minutes! What have you been doing with yourself?" her eyes shifted to the pile of magical books on the window-seat, spilling onto the floor.
Cathy mumbled an apology, and stood up. With a wave of her wand, the books flew under her bed, with another flick she had dressed herself in a frock which her mother had designed, and with a final vague movement, her dark tresses were safely pinned at the back of her head. Her mother's distaste was blatantly observable.
"You know I don't like that, Cathy."
"Mother, it's very simple – stuff – and – I was just trying to help!" she floundered.
"But surely you don't have to whip your – thing – out for every menial task? Cathy, please," she begged. "How are you going to tell your husband that you're a –"
"Mama! It's not like I'm getting married tomorrow! And remember, how you and papa reacted when my Hogwarts letter arrived, along with Professor McValley, to explain everything? You were so happy for me!"
"My dear daughter, you were eleven years old. Remember, I was raised in the country too, and ran quite wild, before I was presented to Society."
"Hogwarts…isn't a wilderness…"
"Well then, what of the 'Forbidden Forest', as it is called, or 'Hog's Mead', or 'Loch Ness'…"
"Mama, it's not really the Loch Ness Monster, it's a nickname we have for the Giant Squid, because Hogwarts is in Scotland. Besides, it's a Kelpie that live in Loch Ness, not a Giant Squid."
"Giant Squid? Would you just listen to yourself? This is the reservation your father and I had about you attending a school which takes its name from porcine dermatological ailments."
"Hogwarts is actually named after a flower," said Cathy. "And what's more, mother, this is the twentieth century! Not the fifteenth or sixteenth, when witches were burnt at the stake! People are modern, people are open to new things! Votes for women, automobiles, Wells' Time Machine, motion pictures, sky-scrapers, Einstein, Nietzche, Hardy..." She narrowly stopped herself from adding "Wilde".
"Some things, dear Cathy, do not change. People of all kinds still fear the unknown. Particularly men." She took Cathy's thin hands in her own. "One day your father and I will be gone, and your brother will have a wife of his own, and I don't want you to be alone…I
want you to be able to have lots of babies, and see them all grow up, and die an old woman in a soft, warm bed."
"I won't be alone," said Cathy, snatching her hands away. "I'll have a –"
"A puppy? A puppy is not a companion, Cathy! I know you are not mature enough to recognise the difference, but can you please, take my advice on faith? Remember when you were learning Latin verbs as a girl – all four principal parts, before knowing what to do with the fourth – amo, amare, amavi, amatum – learning on faith? What happened to my girl who was seen and not heard, who listened without questioning? If only McValley had never put those ideas into your daft little head!"
"Jacquetta, darling, what is it?" her mother's hysterics had alerted her father. "I can practically hear you from the other side of the house. What is it with the smallest dogs and people having the loudest voices?"
"Clarence, I was just saying, if only that accursed McValley had never walked into our lives."
"McValley? The Headmaster?"
Cathy answered him. "Not any longer. He's dead. He went to Australia and vanished."
Her mother was crying quietly now. "See, Cathy, all the magic in the world could not save him. Despite all the wonderful things you told us he could do –"
"Yes, mother, yes, father, I hear you," said Cathy, walking over to her hat-stand and choosing something large and lacy that hid most of her face.
C.I.A.R.C.
Ever since he has become the Headmaster, you haven't dared to see him. You assume he would be too busy to care to see you.
But one day, you're walking past the swirling staircase. All your group projects are in and you're well on track for the exams. But the snow has melted, and so has the lovely ice over the lake. On a whim you take the stairs, and tap on the door.
"Hello!" you say brightly; it's open just a crack. "Professor McValley, are you there?"
"Yes – is that you, Ellen?"
"No…guess who!"
He comes to the door and swings it wide open. "Cathy, darling! How on earth are you?"
"Busy," you shrug apologetically, looking at the floor. The wild, courageous ideas you had upon entering have evaporated.
"It's funny though, I was just thinking of you yesterday, and here you are!"
"So…do you believe in premonition, then?"
A/N: thought I'd take this opportunity to thank those who are following my story via Alerts: Aglaia, Anomalous Anonymous, Aspieturtles, Bellatrixie7, BonniDolle, HiddenDepths-x, Liessa Kirst, ShadowMoonDancer, Shubie, Wand of Destiny, WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot, dancing in daydreams, deeps85, nighteyes00, sunny88 and weahhh63.