Chapter 1: Particularly Unexceptional
Author's Note: This is the beginning of a re-upload. I hope to catch up to the old chapters as soon as possible, but I am changing a fair bit and tightening up the whole story. I hope that everyone that enjoyed this story the first time around will still enjoy this revised version with the new additions. I am now mostly on AO3 as UrGurl99 but I will still update this story on here as well. There is a spotify playlist that goes with this story if anyone likes to listen as they read - It's just the story name 'Katherine Spencer and the Original Prophecy' and the account name is 'UrGurl99'.
Lots of love,
Ur Gurl xx
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 Girls Camp in Manchester where she played sport all summer beneath the trees with other 'like-minded' young ladies about to make debut's upon society.
She was returning from Camp on the last day of August, walking through the bustling streets of London in the afternoon sun from Kings Cross Station. It was so busy, in fact, that she took a particularly hard knock as someone rushed past. Katherine turned around and caught the back of the man she had ran into.
His lithe, gold-topped figure simply loped away.
Katherine continued on her way, wheeling her suitcase behind herself, cursing the city way of life.
Tucked away in North-Western London, a twenty minute walk from King's Cross Station, lied Claremont Square. She lived in Number Twenty-Four. It was a skinny townhouse, perfectly rectangular. And inside where the most square people Katherine had ever met.
It was as she put her key in the door, that a bicycle bell halted Katherine.
A dark-haired boy lazily zig-zagged down the street on a thin metal bicycle. He turned, as if sensing Katherine's gaze.
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…
The activity of the floo at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place had woken Sirius Black from the last sleep before Hogwarts.
The fact that the wards of the ancestral home of Black were blood-based, meant that every member inside the walls felt a faint rush in the veins of their forearms each time the threshold was breached. It was usually easily ignored, unless people flooded through en masse.
It was as he rubbed sleep from his eyes that he noticed it was freezing cold, and then remembered that it was still summer. He pulled his pyjama set on over his underwear and made his way to the window. He rubbed a circle clear of an unseasonal frost and immediately jumped back with a shout.
A horde of black robed creatures swarmed down the street, skeletal claws outstretched. Dementors. One, however, had strayed from the pack and attached its fleshy mouth to the outside of his window.
Ears hot, and his neck throbbing uncomfortably with his racing pulse, Sirius could only watch as it pulled itself away. The window squelched like it had been suction cupped. The creature then vanished over the top of Grimmauld place.
To Claremont Square, thought Sirius, as he ran a hand through his hair and leant on his windowpane.
By the time Katherine finished dinner with her Aunt and Uncle, 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!"
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. An early evening breeze rushed against Katherine's face and chilled her, suddenly, 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 its 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 was not 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,"
Uncle Henry's presence filled the doorway behind her.
"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,"
Uncle Henry's knuckles were white around the front door.
"Claremont is compromised, send the Order."
The Cheshire countryside was green and quiet on the last night of August, all apart from the gentle pitter-patter of rain.
A Manor, set apart from the others and nearly a half-day's journey by car to the nearest village, was warmed by a sitting room fireplace. A grandfather clock ticked softly, nowhere near the hour. There was a gentle scrape of paper as a page was turned. A plume of steam danced from a Chinese-patterned tea set, thick with expense.
The room didn't lose any of its warmth when the orange flames turned a brilliant green. Dust, however, rose from the floorboards at the volume of the voice that erupted from the fireplace –
"Claremont is compromised, send the Order!"
The sole occupant winced, a porcelain teacup spilling onto a silk bathrobe.
"Bugger!"
The man ceased his cleaning of his hot, sticky pyjamas at the face flickering in his fireplace.
A stick of Hornbeam wood was snatched from the coffee table, and the man flew out of the room.
She needed him.
As Katherine ran between Uncle Henry's office and the front door, a commotion erupted outside.
Her stomach swam away from her. Katherine almost fell down the stairs with her speed. She flung open the front door to find four cloaked figures advancing towards her front gate. The light from the streetlamps glinted off their silver masks.
Panic rose in Katherine's throat. Her feet became clumsy. Her hands, however, found the door frame; clinging to it.
Aunt Victoria stopped behind Katherine at the door, her lips trembling, "What's going on!?"
"Avada Kedavara!"
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 but the words still rang in her ears.
"No!" Victoria wailed thickly.
Katherine was pushed into the doorframe as her Aunt scrambled around her.
"MOSMORDE!" The cloaked men had not stopped like her world had. One had a stick of wood pointed up at the sky. Another pulled up his sleeve.
Katherine shivered under the new green glow over the street. She looked 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.
A flash of blond hair out of the corner of her eye, however, could not go unnoticed. More heads of hair followed; brown, 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… like magic…
"They've called him!"
A cloaked figure ran for Katherine, gloved-hand outstretched.
Katherine had the sense to stumble back– away. Her shoe caught on the uneven pavers and gravity pulled her to the ground. A pulsing, hot pain in her tailbone made her gasp.
The man was 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 suddenly 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, as he came face to face with one of the silver-masked cloak wearers.
Katherine had to duck a purple jet of light; and it hit the rubbish bin, reducing it to dust. Katherine's stomach vanished, along with her cover. On her hands and knees, head low, Katherine scrambled behind her neighbour'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. It was a long moment, considering that they were in the middle of a clash.
The rest of their respective comrades however, hadn't found reason to stop.
"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 found Katherine with unnerving speed. 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.
"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 the 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 were not staring at her, but at something behind her.
She turned and found a sucking hole of flesh. And then it was on her.
"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 was illuminated by the red and green burst of lights from the resumed skirmish. Katherine could make out his dark curly hair and strong cheekbones, but the rest was in shadow.
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 dark, protruding eyes.
"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 fell from her right foot.
Eleven chimes…
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 had not 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, but she pointed back in the direction they came from, "What was – that?"
"We apparated," He did not meet her eye as he answered. Instead, he vigilantly scanned 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," said Giles, 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!" said Katherine. She looked down and instantly mourned her right shoe – alongside her relatives.
"We need to get walking."
From the confines on the sealed window, Sirius all but pressed his face against it to see more of the street below.
He was about to abandon his watch to stoke the fireplace at the foot of his bed when he saw it.
Two people POPPED into the visible realm – right out the front of Number Twelve, in the nature strip.
At the blonde hair of the girl in the pair, Sirius' mind was cast back to his earlier passing of the girl on Claremont.
For as long as he could remember, he had come up with all sorts of fantastical excuses to go outside and sneak around the block to watch the muggle children. They all came and went over the years. Except for one.
He had once witnessed her kick her football an impossible distance – beyond retrieval – and wondered if, perhaps, she was like him – if she was a witch. A tall, severe woman had pulled her back into their house by the ear, reprimanding her.
He had felt a spark of kinship. He too was always getting in trouble for doing what he was not supposed to.
His first year of Hogwarts came, however, and she was not on the train.
It was as the pair moved out onto the street that Sirius realised that it was her.
She limped; a shoe missing, her dress torn, and her hair a mess as she glanced over her shoulder.
She had just apparated, Sirius realised with a start. His heart endured another peculiar sensation as her eyes drifted curiously over his home. He had watched many others do the same, the miss-numbering usually drawing a second look.
She couldn't see it, he knew. But somehow, it seemed, her eyes met his.
Giles strode quickly.
Katherine followed. After all, she had nowhere else to go. Her tentative trust of the man did not stop her from being suspicious about the lunacy he was sprouting about magic.
"Did you not hear me?" said Katherine, "We need to call the police! My Aunt and Uncle are… are…"
The night air made the word 'dead' harder to say.
Giles sighed and shook his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but sirens blared instead of his words.
Numerous police and ambulances sped past and turned right onto Claremont Square. A block over from the edge of Grimmauld Place, where she and Giles 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 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.
"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 streetlamp.
"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 was not lost on Katherine. No one called Uncle Henry 'Harry'.
Giles blinked, once, twice… and then watched his path again, shaking his head and muttering "Jealous squib…"
"Squib?"
Giles made a dismissive gesture with his hand, still looking ahead, "A non-magic person from a magic family."
He had spoken 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...
Katherine thought back on Giles' explanation.
If Uncle Henry knew about magic… that meant… it meant that her father 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 still gave her a limp– the other absent. She could not feel her feet carrying her.
"Are you sure I'm not one?" Katherine inclined her head, as to not let any passer-by's read her lips, "A squib."
"Very sure." said Giles, looking ahead.
His words, the familiarity he seemed to have with her, was not 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…
She crossed her arms, "No."
Giles stopped and turned back, squinting.
A red light turned green behind him, casting a strong glow.
"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, and Giles was wearing a full pin-stripe suit.
"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 could not stop. And, with a heaving chest, she stared defiantly 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," said Giles 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," He paused, and then nodded down at her, "And now he's after you."
Murdered. It was one thing to know that your parents had died, but… murdered?
"Why?"
Giles nodded his head forward 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 tried to catch his eye, "Is that how you know who I am?"
After a beat of moment, a far too long one, he nodded curtly.
Katherine turned away, recognising his reluctance on the subject, and mulled over everything that she had learnt. 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 first," Giles said with an incredulous glance at Katherine, "The train to Hogwarts leaves at eleven 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 was not 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 are going to Diagon Alley first to get your school supplies." Giles stopped by a sign to the underground and glanced around.
Katherine stopped in front of him, her heel on 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," said Giles, 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 funerals… I…I can't just leave them there…" Katherine stammered, feeling her eyes burn.
Giles looked upon her with immediate understanding.
"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.
A man that strongly resembled a pipe cleaner with eyes moseyed up to the door from the inside and leant on the pole. He eyed 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 luggage this evening." said Giles as he turned back to Dave Jenkins.
Dave nodded and retreated into the bus.
"Well, come on, then," said Dave, hitting the back of the driver's box, "It's a busy night – Tuesday, you know?"
Dave pulled lightly on a crank that slammed the doors shut behind Katherine and then the lights of the city began to blur past sickeningly fast.
Katherine followed Giles' lead and sat in an armchair against the windows.
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. 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." said Giles, retracting his arm without so much as a glance to Katherine.
Katherine sat beside him, rubbing her chest for a moment, before looking around.
It was real. Magic was real.
It made sense that magic folk had their own means of transportation, but Katherine was curious as 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.
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 had not even realised that she had been crying.
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, actually," 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!"
Katherine did not believe that they could have arrived at their destination so quickly. The bus was still hurtling along at sickening speed. A long, 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 did not. If Giles had not 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 before they slowly rolled 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. They succumbed to the crisp night air once again. The pavement was wet and rough beneath Katherine's bare feet, and the breeze went straight through her blouse.
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.
Giles acquired a key from the barman, and then he guided her again. 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.
Giles scrubbed at his face, already turning back to the door, "I've got to contact the Order to update them on your whereabouts…"
Author's Note: Thank you for reading! :)