Chapter Forty-Three | Goodbye Yellow Brick Road
When asked about it in their reports after the fact, the Aurors who arrived at Hogwarts remarked nothing but confusion - one of the more green members of the squadron brought along to the call being quoted as saying - 'I had… still have, no bloody idea what happened.'
No, they'd simply received an urgent patronus from one Minerva McGonagall, the ethereal tabby letting out a shrill scream that 'Hogwarts was under attack' before the magic dissipated. Most of those in the office had paused, quills stilling and Kingsley Shacklebolt - notably - dropping a mug onto his desk with a clatter as the lot of them stared dumbly at the spot where the cat had just stood. As soon as the news registered in their minds, it was pandemonium, eight Aurors quickly selected and sent marching to the apparition point in a flurry of robes and shouted curses, all of them wondering what exactly was going on.
The instant they set foot at the gates of the school the great rungs of iron had swung open, boots crunching on gravel as they ran the rest of the way to the school to see students crowded around the courtyard, a few teachers and ghosts standing outside with them and trying desperately to keep things under control. The rest were inside the entryway before the Great Hall, a pale Flitwick directing the men and women inside and simply muttering, 'never in all my life have I seen something like that,' when questioned about the attack.
Bellowing could be heard, muted, echoing out into the school proper as they flashed their identification and pushed through the teeming throng of students, all sweating and shaking and stricken with fear, Amelia Bones (because there was no chance in hell she wasn't coming to check on her niece) noting that even Dumbledore looked as though he had been struck by lightning, beard and hair frazzled beyond belief and his wand raised against a tall, shimmering barrier.
"What's going on?" she prompted, steely voiced. "We received a-"
Her words died on her lips as she looked beyond the barrier to see the Great Hall in complete disarray, a beast the size of a house and more grotesque than anything she'd ever set eyes on throwing itself around far quicker than anything of its magnitude should. "What in Merlin's name is that?"
"I'm afraid I can't explain right now," Albus stated, the strain evident in his tone. "Everyone is safe, though-"
"Catherine is in there!" McGonagall roared. "She's not-"
"She is the most equipped out of all of us to deal with this particular problem, and you know that, Minerva."
"She's just a girl!"
"A girl far stronger than you give her credit for."
"Oh my god!" someone shrieked beside them, a girl with the wildest hair Amelia had ever seen pressing her hands to her mouth, and what looked to be a Weasley boy with his hands on her shoulders, knuckles whiter than the bones beneath.
Looking up, Amelia gasped, seeing the moment of impact when - good lord, is that Catherine Potter? - smashed against the far wall, gore spraying in a halo where her head impacted the stone. "Let us in, Albus!" Amelia tried to push past him, the man standing stubborn. "A student has just died!"
He looked sick, shaking his head. "Just wait, please."
Swearing loudly at him, Amelia was put to silence for the second time as a strange light swept over the girl's corpse, Catherine - was that her? - being revealed as it vanished, robes gone and in their place a strange leather garb that covered nearly every inch of her body. "She just- she just-"
"Died, yes."
"What in the hells is going on, Albus?"
"I'm not at liberty to say. That, I believe, is up to Catherine."
Catherine Potter, who had just summoned a hammer that was as large as the girl who wielded it, holding it up as if it was a stick.
"What in the fu-"
An explosion shook the castle, the hammer head rocketing forward and obliterating the chest of the beast. Amelia thought for a moment that it had died, but the thing kept moving, lurching towards the girl like an inferi, single-minded and hellbent on the destruction of whatever was within its eyeline.
"How is it not dead?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
"I swear to god, Albus, if you don't tell me what's going on-" Amelia nearly screamed as Catherine - yes, it was Catherine, the girl tearing down her mask and baring her teeth at the thing like a rabid dog - ran at the bloody monster, holding a sword over her head and disappearing after her second step.
Hardly able to keep track of what was happening, Amelia shifted her gaze to see the girl climbing up the monster and using the sword as a grappling point, covered in blood - so much blood, how much was in that thing? - and bearing a feral grin as she worked her way up its body.
As it went to reach for her, hands as tall and wide as even Albus, a giant in and of himself and always standing a head above most anyone in the wizarding world, Catherine threw it off with pure magic. Amelia could feel it from here, waves of the stuff rolling off the girl like a bonfire. It shone bright, a fierce, glorious rusty orange, burning her from behind the shelter of a magical barrier and the thick, sturdy walls of the castle. The magic and magic alone threw off its feeble attempts to tear the girl from its body, bursting like a supernova as she clawed her way to its throat and thrust her sword deep into the nape of its neck.
Amelia could see Catherine's jaw open wide, nearly hear the triumphant howl that ripped out of her as she tore through the creatures throat in a single swing, gouts of blood streaming from the wound as she followed the sweep of her blade down, tumbling over the beasts shoulder and landing in a steadily growing puddle of red a few feet away from the monster.
A torrent of the stuff sprayed from its throat and its chest, painting the walls in red and leaving no stone untouched as the creature shambled left and right before eventually crashing to the ground at the girl's feet, a hundred eyes staring off into nothing and blinking slowly as it succumbed to its wounds.
Gaping at the insanity of it all Amelia's gaze shifted back to Catherine, who had rolled over onto her side and was panting, a vicious smile on her face as she looked past the barrier and locked eyes with her, recognition settling on her features as her eyes swept up and down Amelia, understanding just who had arrived.
The shield shimmered away and Dumbledore went to take a step forward when the girl threw her hand out. "No!" she roared, eyes wide and frantic. "Don't! Stay back!"
Confused, angry, and more than a little afraid of what she was seeing, Amelia tried to take her chance to shoulder past Albus when real, true flame exploded off of the girl, the heat of it stifling. It blinded all of them, sweeping across the room and smashing uselessly against another shield, thrown up in the nick of time by the Headmaster.
Just as suddenly as the flames appeared they were swept away, the room filled with smoke and the remnants of their embers shining through the thick, curling smog, reeking of burnt flesh and hair. Catherine was silhouetted against it, her shadow long and tall, the strange tricorne hat she wore, ragged at the edges, curling up around the top of her head like great, wicked horns. Her figure shifted unsteadily, one arm rising to swallow up the smoke, sending it rushing out the shattered windows behind her and into the cold, dark night.
The girl stood lonesome in the ruins of the Great Hall, even the stones burnt black by her conflagration, shoulders heaving with every breath and her hammer back in her steely grip. She looked up, gaze sweeping across them all, before she nodded seriously and stated, "Alright, you can come in now."
-::-
Hermione was the first to break through the line, running at Catherine like a maddened woman, crushing herself against her and pressing her lips to her throat, sobbing in her ear. "Oh my god, that was awful! Are you okay? Are you alright?" she whispered frantically, patting her everywhere and checking for wounds.
"I'm fine, I'm fine. You need to- you can't-"
"Don't you dare push me away, godammit. I can't take it any more."
"Miss Granger," Albus stated slowly, announcing himself. "Please leave Catherine to myself and the Aurors."
"Headmaster-"
"Please, Miss Granger."
Choking on her tears, Hermione reluctantly withdrew herself from Catherine's stiff, unmoving arms, still locked stubbornly at her sides.
"Amelia-"
"What the fuck is going on here, Albus?" the woman beside him thundered, wand sweeping back and forth and a thousand glittering lights sparking at the end of it as she tried to analyze the room and Catherine all at the same time. "What was that?"
"Umbridge."
"Umbridge?" the woman hissed, head whipping around to face Catherine. "Dolores Umbridge?"
"Should we take her in, ma'am?" A man asked, face serious. Amelia threw up her hand, waiting for Catherine's answer, though her other held tight to her wand, thumbing at the grip.
"She… turned."
"Turned into what?"
"I can't-"
"I think this is a matter better handled by Croaker, Amelia."
"You're calling the Unspeakables into this?"
"I believe this is - and I intend no offense - far beyond the normal scope of Auror work."
The woman - Amelia Bones, Catherine told herself - spat her anger, face twisted up in confusion and horror. "You want me to explain to Fudge what happened here?"
"I imagine Cornelius would use it as an excuse to put young Catherine here behind bars."
Catherine, hearing that, immediately tensed up, her grip rolling along the handle of her hammer. "Is he here?"
"No, why would he come to an Auror call?"
"Because he's been dragging my name through the muck for the last year? Why else? The man wants me in prison and wouldn't hesitate for an instant if he had the opportunity." Biting her lip, Catherine pushed away the memories from Dolores that swam through her head, flickers and flashes of pure, untempered hatred bursting like lightning across her mind. "Umbridge sent the Dementors to my home, during the summer."
"And did she confess that?"
"I-" She grit her teeth. "Her blood got in my mouth, along with a few of her memories."
"Her blood- her… what the hell?" Amelia groused, running a hand through her hair. "Tonks, call the Unspeakables now."
"On it, ma'am."
"And you! Catherine Potter, right?"
"Aye."
"I just saw you die. Care to explain that?"
Doing her best to quell her anger, Catherine's gaze flickered to Dumbledore, the man's face set in stone. "To the... Unspeakables."
The Headmaster had requested them for good reason, she imagined, and Catherine knew for a fact that if he believed she could get away with explaining her story to the Aurors he would have encouraged her already. Right now, after having her skull popped like an overripe fruit before summarily cremating herself, she was inclined to follow his lead.
A small breath of relief slipped from her lips when she took a glance to the right to see nothing remained of Umbridge but ashes and tiny fragments of bone. No blood, no chance of turning.
"What now?"
"To be honest, I haven't a fucking clue."
Catherine let out a startled laugh, one that slowly turned hysterical as she bent over, hands on her knees, wheezing out her insanity. "What is my life?" she choked out, nails digging into the fabric of her trousers.
Tonks, thankfully, came to interrupt her little bout of madness, offering Catherine a sympathetic, yet entirely terrified look. "Ma'am, Unspeakables are on their way now."
"Good, good… maybe they can help us sort this out. Albus?"
"It's Catherine's story to tell."
"You can't be serious, we just watched her die and come crawling back out of the slop her brains left when she was thrown against that wall," Amelia argued, jabbing her thumb to the left. "If it wasn't for… whatever it is she's even capable of - and don't think I didn't notice her waving around that hammer as if it doesn't weigh as much as a motorbike - more students would be dead. Not to mention, you said something about turning, didn't you, girl?"
"The blood. If you consume it, you change."
"And you drank the bloody stuff?"
"I'm… unique."
Amelia threw her hands in the air, defeated. "This is madness. Absolute, utter madness. Tell me why I shouldn't just take her in?"
"What madness?" A man asked, sweeping into the room and looking about as imperious as one could be, if it wasn't for the fact that he was, in Catherine's honest opinion, the most nondescript human being she had ever set eyes on. He had boring, thin brown hair that was swept back messily, strung through with streaks of white. His face was pinched, plain, and barely dotted with stubble, eyes peeking out from beneath a furrowed brow that were the only thing that spoke of something more about him, a steely gray that glimmered with knowledge.
"Croaker."
"Bones."
Sighing heavily, the woman pressed her wand to the side of her head and drew out a silvery tendril, passing it to him. "See for yourself."
Slowly, he touched his wand to hers, before drawing it up to his temple and letting the strand sink into his flesh. His gaze fogged over, eyes flickering back and forth as though he was in the midst of a dream, until a few seconds later when the haze left them and he blinked unsteadily.
"Interesting."
"Interesting?" Air whistled through Amelia's teeth, bared and furious. "That's all you have to say?"
"I have many questions of course. Albus? Would you mind if we took this to your office?"
"Not at all. Catherine?"
Swept along for the ride, she simply shrugged her shoulders, the only thought in her mind a quiet, fuck it, I guess.
Everyone had seen, well, everything. What was the harm in talking to someone who, by all accounts, seemed to be the only one in this room entirely unaffected by what had just happened?
"I'm coming along," Amelia insisted. "Head of the DMLE, this is my call, Croaker, and you know it. And I want those questions answered now," she finished, sending a glare Catherine's way.
"Of course," the man answered, thoroughly unimpressed.
Fawkes took that moment to flutter off of Dumbledore's shoulder and land on Catherine's, keening quietly and running his beak through her hair. She slowly lifted her hand, running her knuckles along his feathers. "Hey there, mister. Would you mind getting Hedwig for me?"
He gently nipped at her ear, before disappearing in a whirl of flame.
Dumbledore swept one arm towards the door, that door she had taken so many times of late. "Shall we?"
Croaker inclined his head. "After you."
Placing his hand comfortably on her shoulder, Dumbledore led Catherine towards the door and up into his office, calling out once before they left for Minerva to, "Take the students to their rooms, please. All Heads of House stay with them, and take an Auror each if they require reassurance."
They stepped from one floor onto another, a few hundred feet higher than they had just been standing, Dumbledore's arm waving back and forth and conjuring chairs for them to sit on while sweeping the papers from his desk, transfiguring it into a round-table with a seat for Catherine next to his.
"Please," he stated simply, pulling Catherine's chair out for her and taking his own, her hammer thudding softly against the carpet as she tucked it beside her seat.
Nervously, her fingers drummed atop the table, a rickety, unsteady beat running up her arms and into her shoulders, strong enough to ripple through the wood and belying the true strength coiled within even the smallest of her muscles.
She could probably crush someone's skull with grip strength alone. Had, and that was before she figured out how to imbue herself with her own magic.
Every fibre of Catherine's being was screaming at her to flee, to get far, far away from this place and hide from two of the most powerful people in the magical world - two people who could destroy her life beyond the rubble it had been reduced to, crush it into a powder and leave her stranded high and dry, lonesome atop a rock surrounded by the black cloaks of Dementors.
But she didn't. She sat as still as she could, ready to answer any and all questions (within reason) to try and explain her way out of this insanity and, now that she realized it, her murder of a ministry representative.
Yes, Umbridge had turned into a beast, but in a roundabout way what she'd done had been manslaughter. She'd been the one to infect her, to spray her with her blood, and the entire school had just suffered the consequences of her rash actions.
Not that Fudge would care about that one lick, no, he'd do his damndest to have her wings clipped and legs bound, thrown into the deepest darkest pit he could find to rot until the end of her days - something even more fearsome, more terror inducing, to remember that for her, there was no end of days, not when left idle with no chance of a blessed blade to come and nick but a single artery, sending her off to the great unknown. Not even the killing curse could take her now, bound to the blood so thoroughly as to leave her soul shackled to her cold, lonesome bones.
"You're to do nothing for the students?"
"I believe that this discussion is far more serious-"
Like an act of god, Amelia's hand flew down and slapped against the table, shaking it. "Than trauma, Albus? What they just witnessed was enough to leave me queasy, and you know how long I've been doing this."
"I understand completely how dire this situation is, Amelia. You're the one who demanded to come along for an immediate questioning instead of pushing this until a few hours from now. Regardless, the Heads have this well in hand, and I'll be going down to each common room to check on every one of my students at the soonest opportunity."
Croaker stuck his hand out across the table, Catherine going cross eyed as she looked at it. "Catherine Potter, yes?" he asked, arm stiff. "Saul Croaker, Director of the Department of Mysteries and Head Unspeakable."
Awkwardly, she took his hand and shook it, not surprised to find that the frail limb was far more sturdy than it looked. "Hey."
"So…" he drawled, clasping his hands neatly and resting them on the table, leaning forward ever so slightly. "Start from the beginning, if you would, and don't be shy. No tale is too outlandish for one in my line of work."
Amelia snorted, and Catherine simply drew her lips tight into a nervous smile, thoughts running rampant at the prospect of indefinite incarceration. "A few months ago I went to sleep and woke up in another world."
She paused, waiting for the inevitable proclamation of 'impossible!' or 'why, I never!' Instead, all she got was a roll of his shoulders, a quaint smile, and an, "Mmhm? Please, continue."
"It's a- a place called Yharnam. Some being, some creature dragged me there. They're worshipped in that world, gods, and… I'm inclined to believe that."
"Croaker, you can't be serious," Amelia interrupted, head whipping back and forth between the two of them.
"I am quite serious, Amelia." He tilted his head. "This isn't the first time we've encountered… I believe dimensional travel to be the case, within the history of the Department. Not within my time, of course, but we have good records."
Scoffing, she shook her head, but said no more, lips sealed tight and her steely gaze zeroed in on Catherine.
"It's… changed me. I'm not human anymore, not entirely. I don't need to eat or drink, nor sleep, and- and as of now, I subsist only on blood."
"Not a Vampire though, correct?"
"No. No issues with sunlight, none with crosses or any other symbols."
"Judging by Amelia's memories we have… strength, speed, and… regeneration, was it? After you were tossed against the wall."
Her mouth opened and closed, the fear she felt growing. "I refuse to be a labrat."
"We're not that kind of department, I can assure you."
"I worked with the Department for a decade, Catherine. Saul speaks the truth," Dumbledore offered, leaning towards her.
Jaw clenched tight, she forced the words out. "I can't die."
Croaker hummed again, scratching his chin. "Interesting. Very interesting. Albus," he said, turning to the man. "Why exactly did you not notify me that one of your students came into contact with an extra-dimensional creature and is very suddenly immortal, as soon as you'd learned about it?"
"Initially, I thought her to be possessed. Afterwards… I've been so caught up in trying my best to support Catherine-" Amelia snorted again. "-that it completely passed my mind."
"Possessed by what, exactly?"
"A horcrux."
Slowly, the man reached up to adjust glasses that did not sit on his nose, frowning at himself for the gesture. "And whose horcrux, exactly?"
"Voldemort."
Like a kettle whistling, the sigh that trickled from Croaker's lips was a drawn out, strained thing, all breathy and positively brimming with exhaustion. "No wonder you're claiming him to be alive." Fingers steepled, his frown grew deeper. "Have you attempted to break contact with the creature, Miss Potter?"
"I can't." She lifted her fringe. "Branded, at a year of age. You can guess who else has been there."
Startled, Amelia flattened her hands against the table. "You don't mean-"
"That would explain quite a lot, if I were to be honest. Amelia, you recall how often Voldemort used magic never seen before, never put on record by the Ministry or even by the Unspeakables, yes?"
"You're saying he learned this in another world entirely?"
"It fits. Not definitive, but it's something we've still been wracking our minds about today, so many years after his… not demise, I should say, with what Albus here has told us, but... disappearance is an apt term." Tracing a pattern over the table, Croaker seemed caught up in his own world for a second, whispers so quiet that Catherine couldn't hear them mouthed across the table. "An Other, then."
"Other?"
"Yes. A theory tossed about by us. If there are creatures of greater perception, greater power than humans could ever be capable of. Gods, angels, demons, whatever word you'd like to use, something above us in all ways. Does that ring a bell, Catherine?"
"Yeah. That about does it."
"This place. Yharnam. Tell me about it."
"It's far behind us, in technology, in magic, even. But the magic and tools that I've seen are cruel, dangerous in their design, far more than any here. Cruel is the word I would use. The city is overrun by a plague of their own design, blood that they found deep below and worship for its power. It can heal anything, knit together flesh, mend bone, but- you saw what became of Umbridge. Anyone who partakes of the blood has that waiting for them."
"And yourself?"
"Like I said. I'm immune. Doesn't mean I'm not mad, though," she added, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I can't change, but I can still go blood-drunk. Lose myself to it and become nothing less than an animal wearing human skin."
"You're not making a very good case for yourself."
"You think I don't know that, Bones?" Catherine shot back, getting to her feet. "I'm losing my fucking mind over here. You have no idea what I've seen, what I've had to do, and you dare to sit here and judge me? Say that again, and remember what you just saw me do in the Great Hall."
A hand wrapped around her arm, gentle, and Catherine realized how heavily she was breathing, slowly tugged down back into her seat by Albus. "Please, Catherine. Deep breaths."
"I'm not- I'm not here to be fucking judged. I judge myself enough, alright? I'm a monster now, I get that- don't try and argue against it, Albus, you know that's a fact and you can't say otherwise after seeing with your own eyes what I'm capable of. How much I enjoy it."
"You're not a monster. You're a fifteen year old girl with the world on her shoulders."
Huffing out another laugh, Catherine ran her hands down her face. "Sure."
"What do you propose then, Albus? Cornelius is going to learn of this, and you can be sure he's going to come after the both of you, and soon."
"I'm the director, here," Amelia argued, turning on the man. "He can't go over my head and order my Aurors around."
"I don't believe that's the case." Albus said, hurried, as he raised his hand. They followed his gaze, looking up at the portraits that lined his office, a few of them starting to shout and pointing their fingers at the door.
A second later, the door was blown off its hinges, everyone shooting to their feet and pointing their wands at the open entrance as a few Aurors stepped inside, along with a familiar shock of red hair, Cornelius Fudge at their heels.
"Dawlish? Weasley? You're not even in my department! What the hell are you doing here?"
"Ah, Amelia, I've just been made aware of terrible happenings here at Hogwarts. Dawlish was kind enough to notify me," the portly man announced. "Monsters in the school, Albus? And a little murderer, flying about the halls? Imagine my surprise to hear that Catherine Potter has well and truly lost her mind."
In that moment Catherine was sorely tempted to strike his head from his shoulders, but knew it would do her no good. "You idiot," she hissed, lip trembling with fury. "You flounce in here like you own the place, after the lies you've spread?"
"I've seen no hide nor hair of Dolores," Fudge continued, sending a glare her way. "Tell me, where is she, Headmaster?"
"I'm afraid, Minister, that the 'monster' that Potter so heroically slew was Umbridge," the man named Dawlish interrupted, beady eyed and sallow faced.
"Then… her letters-" Fudge's brow raised, eyes flying wide. "Take her! Take her to Azkaban!"
Dawlish went to move towards her when Dumbledore's wand aimed his way. "None of that, Minister. We were having a discussion before you so rudely interrupted."
"Dolores wrote to me, fearful that the… wretched girl beside you had poisoned her! Threatened her life! The only reason I hadn't come by sooner to have her arrested was because she believed the situation was well in hand, and now you mean to defend her after the death of a Ministry official? The murder of my secretary!? Absolutely ludicrous!"
"We were just reaching the point in our talks where I was to bring up the torture that Dolores had been visiting upon the students here, under your supervision."
"I know nothing of any torture," Fudge denied, waving his hand. "There has been a murder in these halls, Dumbledore, of a teacher no less, and I intend to see justice. Either give the girl to me or I'll see you locked up as well."
Albus seemed to be under a lot more stress than Catherine assumed as he immediately broke out into laughter, condescending and glorious in how free it sounded. "Truly, Cornelius? You believe you could muster up enough of a challenge with those few at your side? You intend to take me to Azkaban? I'm disappointed in you."
"Aurors, Amelia! Croaker! Take her in! Take them both in!"
"Albus…"
"No hard feelings, Amelia? Saul?"
The two looked defeated for a flicker of a second, but tried to turn their wands on him all the same, being dispatched in a moment by two brightly glowing lights, sending them rocketing across the room. Fudge howled in anger, a vein in his forehead throbbing as he tore off his hat and swiped his wand through the air, Dumbledore's hand wrapping around her arm a second before she heard Fawkes and Hedwig shriek, flames stealing away her vision and cradling her in their warmth, the magic taking them far, far away from Hogwarts.