Judging by the soreness in Katrina's limbs, Kane was not only intent on retaining her daily routine but pushing her to her limit. The intensified rigor could easily be contributed to her brother and his, in Kane's view, lack of discipline. He seemed to harbor the belief that Harry would be a terrible influence, undoing all that he had instilled in her. There was no question that the siblings, though they shared physical similarities, experienced different upbringings. It was not just the fact that Harry lived with their muggle relatives who flinched at the mere mention of magic while Katrina learned magic from a young age but their opposing personalities, with Harry being the more impulsive and stubborn of the two.
The next morning, the soreness lingered, Katrina choosing to remain in bed. Hearing the door creak, she half expected a surprise lesson from Kane and lifted her head, wincing from the shooting pain in her neck. Instead of her guardian, Sirius stepped into the room, carrying a tray of scrambled eggs, fresh fruit, and a cup of green tea. Shutting the door with the back of his heel, he explained that Kane left at the crack of dawn for a meeting at MACUSA.
"He was very specific to Molly about what you could eat." Katrina scooted back as he neared the bed, her wool blanket and the duvet underneath acting as a shield. "I know you're not used to all this yet so I told her to let you have a lie-in. If you want some bacon, it'll be our little secret."
He lowered the tray onto the bed. "I'm a vegetarian," she replied, uncorking the vial on the tray.
She poured its contents into the tea, stirring the golden powder with a spoon. Taking a sip, she held back a grimace, never used to the bitter taste. The palms of her hands briefly emitted a reddish glow. As she picked up a fork, she waited for him to leave but he remained seated on the edge of the bed, possibly hoping for a chance to continue their conversation from dinner the previous night. Most of the Order members had left shortly after Kane, either to their jobs, pretending it was a day like any other, or out on assignment. Remus was visiting an old friend of his, to glean information on werewolves being swayed to Voldemort's ranks.
"I see he gave you the necklace. I helped your father pick you out, you know," said Sirius, chuckling to himself. "He was dreadful at getting gifts, especially for your mother. I doubt Carlisle ever said as much but you look just like she did at your age. I bet you crinkle your nose the same too. With how often she used to do it around your father, I thought she'd get stuck that way."
Katrina bit back a smile, happy with any tidbits about her parents. She would not have minded listening to Sirius tell her stories the rest of the day. As she finished her meal, he encouraged her to get dressed to meet Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys, who were assisting Mrs. Weasley with a deep-dive cleaning of the dilapidated house. Changing out of her nightgown, she followed Sirius to a room on the first floor, where the others, their faces wrapped in cloths, sprayed bottles of black liquid at the moss-green velvet curtains.
A bucket next to Mrs. Weasley was filled with doxies, fairy-like pests covered in thick black hair. Katrina noticed Fred and George pocket the tiny creatures. Moving away from the bucket, Mrs. Weasley tiptoed over to the doorway, looking uncertain.
"Katrina, dear, if this is too much for you, I understand," she whispered. "Merlin knows what's hiding in this place. We may encounter some hexed objects and I don't want you in any danger."
"I'll be okay," said Katrina, raising her hands. Instead of pale blue, she was wearing peach-colored gloves to match her cardigan. "They protect me from any…accidents. I want to help however I can."
"That's the spirit." Sirius grabbed a bloodstained sack from a tattered armchair. "Better get back to feeding Buckbeak. I can introduce you later, if you like, Katrina. Ever seen a hippogriff?"
Her eyes lit up in excitement at the prospect. Taking a tea towel from Mrs. Weasley, she tied it around her face and listened to her instructions on handling the doxies. She stood beside Harry, who sprayed two vicious doxies in the face and chucked their stunned bodies into the overflowing bucket. Most of the morning was spent fighting the doxies. As Katrina moved the towel from her mouth, something brushed up against her leg and she looked down to see a ginger, bandy-legged cat, bending down to scratch behind its ear.
At the sound of the doorbell, Mrs. Weasley hurried out of the room, amid loud shrieks. "It's just Sirius's mother," said Harry, sensing her unease. "Her portrait starts screaming whenever there's a lot of noise."
"Batty old woman," muttered Ron.
"Did you sleep okay?" Katrina nodded, watching the cat, apparently belonging to Hermione, sniff at a bowl of doxy eggs. "Well, if you—"
Harry was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's shouting, amplified by the portrait's screeches about dishonor and blood traitors. Their voices carried through the open door, Mrs. Weasley shouting at Mundungus Fletcher over harboring stolen cauldrons. As George started to shut the door, a house-elf, dressed in a filthy rag, edged into the room. With its baggy skin and white hair growing out of its bat-like ears, it appeared to be very old.
Not acknowledging anyone else in the room, it shuffled around the room, mumbling to itself, and froze when spoken to by Fred. The house-elf eyed them all malevolently, still mumbling in audible whispers. Ron and Ginny reacted angrily when he called Hermione a mudblood, a crass term for muggleborns, but Hermione paid the insult no mind ("It doesn't matter," she whispered. "He's not in his right mind"), attempting to be cordial to the rude house-elf. His pale eyes lingered on Harry and Katrina in uncomfortable silence.
"The dead girl," muttered Kreacher. "Mistress would be most upset to hear she survived. Kreacher wonders if the rumors are true about the little abomination—"
"Oy, watch your tone!" said Fred, eyeing him with dislike.
Hermione outstretched her arm to hold back Harry, Ron, and Ginny. "I—it's fine," said Katrina, believing, like her, that Kreacher's mind was addled from old age.
George glared at the house-elf. "No, it's not. What do you want anyway?"
Kreacher's excuse of cleaning was met with an audible scoff. Sirius was standing in the doorway, glowering as the house-elf flung himself into an extremely low bow. Though he called Sirius Master, he regarded him with the same disdain, whispering about him being ungrateful and a disappointment, before being sent away to prevent him from stealing a faded, torn tapestry.
"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" snapped Sirius, slamming the door shut. "Ignore him, Katrina. He's always been a foul thing. I wouldn't take the word of a creature that cries over an old woman's stockings seriously."
Walking across the room, he showed them the tapestry, depicting the Black family tree. All of the names were connected by strands of golden thread, some charred through the fabric like a cigarette burn. Sirius's own name was one of those burned, done by his mother after he ran away at the age of sixteen. Fed up with his family, he stayed with Harry and Katrina's father, their grandparents treating him like a second son. He pointed to his brother's name towards the bottom of the tree. Unlike Sirius, who rejected his family's pureblood-mania, his younger brother Regulus upheld their ideals by joining the death eaters, though he was murdered after panicking over what loyalty to Voldemort entailed and seeking a way out.
As they studied the vast family tree, Katrina was distracted by a tingling in her fingers. She glanced at the dusty glass-fronted cabinets on either side of the mantelpiece, filled with an assortment of objects. Peering into the right cabinet, she found herself drawn to a tarnished silver box inscribed with several runes.
"Lunch," she heard, shaking her out of a stupor.
A red-faced Mrs. Weasley returned to the room, levitating a tray loaded with sandwiches and cake. "Katrina, dear, can you come with me?"
Stepping away from the cabinet, she walked down the staircase with Mrs. Weasley and down the dimly lit corridor. At the end of the corridor was Albus Dumbledore, who greeted Karina with a warm hug. He was one of the few people that Katrina felt comfortable around, having popped into Kane's manor from time to time to check on her. Their last meeting had been the previous summer, the night of the attack at the Quidditch World Cup. He had contemplated bringing her to Hogwarts back then but chose to remain cautious, not entirely certain if his suspicions about Voldemort were correct.
"You're looking well. You've grown since we've last met. Thank you for that lemon bar recipe. I'm not as talented as a baker as you but I believe they came out quite well. When you are at Hogwarts, you'll need to give me your opinion." Mrs. Weasley cleared her throat. "But I'm here on slightly more important business."
"Did something happen to Kane?" asked Katrina, fearing the worst.
"No, but I'm sure he's imagining President Kowalski's head on fire. He doesn't have the patience for long meetings." Her lips twitched upward at Dumbledore's humorous yet apt remark. "With all the news surrounding your miraculous return, I thought it best to have you sorted before the start of term. No need for you to stand out more among a sea of first years."
Opening the door to his left, she saw a room that had not yet endured Mrs. Weasley's intense cleaning. Another man was standing beside the wooden table, his sallow face illuminated by the chandelier. He had an authoritative aura, with his shoulder-length hair framing his face like curtains and dark, penetrating eyes. Mrs. Weasley introduced him as Severus Snape, the potions professor at Hogwarts.
"It's nice to meet you," said Katrina, politely.
The man gave no reply, looking over her shoulder as if she was invisible. "Shall we begin, headmaster?"
"Take a seat, Katrina." He lifted a frayed hat from a cardboard box, a tear across the brim resembling a mouth. "Once the sorting is complete, I've arranged for Professor Snape to ensure you're prepared for your lessons. I wouldn't want you falling behind your peers."
The hat was gently lowered on her head, obscuring her vision. She was unsure how the sorting worked, only knowing that Hogwarts students were assigned to one of four houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff.
A small voice in her ear interrupted her thoughts. "My, my, aren't you an interesting one? The lost Potter. Difficult to place…very difficult. Intelligent beyond your years and creative…loyal, kind, hard-working…courageous…resourceful…you'd do well in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. I sense a desire in you. Such power but that matters little to you, doesn't it, young Potter? You want to protect your brother from harm. Well then…Gryffindor!"
Katrina quietly sighed in relief. Considering her brother was a Gryffindor, she had hoped to be in the same house. Being separated would make watching over him much more difficult, the four houses not well-known for their unity. Jace knew about Hogwarts from cousins on his mother's side who attended the school and according to him, the houses mostly stuck to their own members, the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin being particularly extreme.
Congratulating her, Dumbledore set the hat back in the box and exited the room with an delighted Mrs. Weasley. Katrina stopped herself from calling out to them, not wanting to admit that the stern professor frightened her. She was used to limited conversation, Kane preferring a brief exchange, but Snape would not even look at her, conjuring a set of textbooks, a potions kit, and a cauldron onto the table.
"Carlisle tells me he's taught you well but I presume he adhered to the Ilvermorny curriculum," he said, flipping through a textbook. "Each school focuses on different measures, which is why the headmaster chose this option. We'll begin with the first year curriculum. Have you brewed potions before?"
"Yes," she replied, opening the potions kit.
"Your brother lacks the competence required for such an art so I suppose we'll see if it runs in the family." He placed the textbook in front of her. "A boil cure potion. It's very simple but if you fail, the consequences will not be dire."
It took all of her strength to hold her tongue. She did not disagree that it was a simple potion, thinking it was almost too easy, but Snape already seemed predisposed to despising her, thanks to a perceived dislike of her brother. Staying silent, to avoid upsetting him, she started to work on the boil cure potion. Throughout the hour, Snape kept his back to her, except to observe her work in between reading from his book.
"Why have you added three porcupine quills?" He peered at the simmering cauldron. "The instructions state two."
"The extra quill activates the healing faster," she said, stirring the potion.
"Did Carlisle teach you that?" he asked, intrigued.
The potion turned indigo blue. "No. I read about their properties and I thought it made sense."
Hearing no response, she extinguished the flame and glanced up from her cauldron. Snape was staring at her, the first time he had not avoided her gaze, his dark eyes momentarily losing their emptiness. Just as soon as she could discern any kind of emotion, it vanished and the hook-nosed professor inspected the potion.
"Perhaps you're not as hopeless as your brother," he said, an odd compliment. "Let's carry on."
Over the next couple of weeks, Katrina split her time between assisting with decontaminating the house, throwing out hexed objects (unless Kreacher managed to smuggle them behind Sirius's back), and tutoring sessions with Snape. At the end of their first session, any progress she made towards currying Snape's favor, or at least not having him compare her to her brother, was diminished by the arrival of Sirius. From the second they locked eyes, it was obvious that the two men outright despised each other, supported by how they spat the other's name like it was made of slime. In her subsequent sessions, Sirius attempted to join, to protect Katrina from 'unfair treatment', until he was shooed away by Mrs. Weasley.
His unfavorable opinion of the potions professor was not uncommon. Harry could write a novel with the amount of vitriol he held for Snape, a mutual vitriol by how often Snape made snippy comments about him. The Weasleys, Hermione, and even Jace held their own contempt, Jace's coming from stories of how he treated his cousin. He was against the one-on-one sessions when he learned of them from Katrina, though he would never voice his reservations aloud to Kane. Katrina was unable to describe how she felt about Snape, his attitude towards her changing in an instant. One minute, he praised her spellwork and the next, he acted like she wore an invisibility cloak.
On the day of Harry's trial, her hopes of accompanying him were dashed by Dumbledore, who preferred for her to stay out of the spotlight. It sounded rather pointless to her, the Daily Prophet churning out multiple articles speculating on her sudden rise from the dead. Some articles were innocent, mentioning the circumstances of her supposed death, while others were better suited for gossip magazines, insinuating that she had the social graces of a wild animal and was as mentally unstable as Harry. Her training with Kane provided her with an escape from the Ministry's gutter tactics.
"Is there a reason Moore is lurking outside the door?" Snape's dark eyes flickered from the guinea pig in a cage to the door. "His skills may be overrated."
"He doesn't like you very much," she admitted. "He says you're mean to his cousin. Hannah Abbott."
A soft scoff escaped his lips. "Abbott can hardly tell the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane." When Katrina countered that they were the same plant, he turned towards her. "A fact Miss Abbott wouldn't know, despite it being on her first year exams. I rest my case."
For a moment, she wondered if it was his version of a joke. Jace knocked on the door, announcing the arrival of her Hogwarts letter. The cage vanished with a flick of Snape's wand.
"I have business to attend to," he said, rising from the table. "I will inform Professor Dumbledore that you're at a sufficient level. What is this?"
Katrina held out a thick black leather book. "The new medieval potions book by Phineas Bourne. Kane got an advanced copy for me last night. He saved Bourne's granddaughter years ago from a werewolf so he gets special access. I finished it but I thought you might like to read it."
Jace was waiting outside the room, casually leaning against the wall. Crookshanks and Katrina's ragdoll kitten Purrsephone circled around his legs. When Jace returned to Grimmauld Place with her belongings, she endured lighthearted teasing from Harry over her kitten's unique name. Purrsephone took a quick liking to Crookshanks, following the larger ginger cat around the house like a duckling. Mrs. Weasley bustled past them, a laundry basket tucked under her arm, and told her to get ready for their trip to Diagon Alley, Katrina needing to purchase her school robes. Picking up Purrsephone, her dark paws tapping against Katrina's knee-high boots, she headed up to her room with Jace. She grabbed a black pea coat from her closet and slipped her coin purse into her matching leather purse.
Hearing a commotion above them, they found Mrs. Weasley squeezing an embarrassed Ron in a bone-crushing hug in his and Harry's room. Fred and George were wearing mirrored expressions of disgust while Hermione and Harry stood by one of the beds, freshly laundered robes sorted into two piles. In both Hermione and Ron's hands, Katrina spotted a scarlet and gold badge, a large P superimposed over a lion.
Through Mrs. Weasley's shrieks, she referred to him as a prefect and Katrina vaguely remembered Jace mentioning a similar position at Ilvermorny. Prefects were students chosen by their head of house to be given extra responsibilities like patrolling the corridors and supervising their fellow students. It was not surprising that Hermione, top of her class and strait-laced, had been given such a role but Ron did not strike her as someone to enforce the rules. Overjoyed, Mrs. Weasley the room, the twins disapparating seconds later after taunting the new prefects and Ron chasing after his mother to tell her his preferred broom for a gift.
"I'll meet you down there," Katrina whispered to Jace.
Her brother was fiddling with the pile of robes. After congratulating Hermione, she waited for her to leave with Hedwig, Jace at her heels.
"Are you okay?" she asked Harry, who was kneeling by his trunk.
"Yeah, great," he replied, in a strangely hearty tone. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Maybe because you're not a prefect?" she suggested. He stiffened at her words. "I know we haven't known each other that long but did you really want it? You don't seem like the type. Neither does Ron, to be fair."
"I'm happy for him, Katrina, really." His tone remained unchanged as he faced her. "Why are you all dressed up?"
Katrina looked down at her outfit, one typically worn by the teenage girls and women that walked by the manor unaware of the girl hidden behind a magical barrier. She did not think that she was overdressed, with her sheer black tights, golden sequin skirt, and red short-sleeved blouse, but to a boy, anything other than a basic shirt and pants would constitute as fancy.
"It's how we dress in America, especially in Manhattan. We get a lot of inspiration from the muggle world," she said, adjusting her gloves. "I'm going to Diagon Alley with Mrs. Weasley and Kane's always saying to make a good impression, even to a complete stranger."
"I could come with you," he offered. "I'm sure Fudge has his Daily Prophet goons tracking your every move to get a picture and I'd be a good distraction."
"I appreciate that but I don't think the Order want you out in the open. Jace is coming so he can chase them off." Harry scrunched his nose. "I don't care what they say about me. All that matters is I know the truth."
"Be careful," he said, seriously. "A death eater could be right under your nose out there and some of them don't need disguises."
"Promise," she replied, crossing her fingers.
Katrina did not enjoy traveling with floo powder, averse to feeling like a trapped sardine in a can. What made it worse that the fireplace in Grimmauld Place led to the Leaky Cauldron, a packed pub. Even without her picture being in the newspapers, many of its patrons appeared to have some semblance of her identity, whispering about her striking resemblance to her mother. Anyone contemplating approaching her was deterred by Jace, who practically dared them to make a move to invoke his wrath. As Mrs. Weasley guided them to the rear of the pub, the bald, toothless bartender, looking on the verge of tears, gave Katrina a kind wave.
Mrs. Weasley tapped her wand three times against a brick in the walled courtyard and an archway formed, revealing a cobblestone street lined with shops and restaurants. Katrina's eyes darted back and forth, taking in all the different sights, but she doubted even a full day would be sufficient to explore the entirety of Diagon Alley. Half-listening to Mrs. Weasley and Jace, she looked around at the enormous crowd of witches and wizards.
"We'll meet you there, Mrs. Weasley. Come on, Katrina." Purrsephone's head poked out of her purse. "Think she's as excited as you. You're even making the same face."
"I thought she'd like the fresh air," replied Katrina. Mrs. Weasley was walking into a quidditch shop. "Shouldn't we stick together?"
"You need more than the others so while she's getting Ron's broom, we'll get your robes," he said, leading her through the crowd. "Trust me, no one's dumb enough to cause a scene in the middle of Diagon Alley. Too many witnesses."
At Madam Malkin's, the aforementioned witch fitted her for her robes. While she was poked and prodded with pins, Jace kept an eye on the busy street. After she paid Madam Malkin for her robes, they met a breathless Mrs. Weasley at Flourish and Blotts, a book shop, her arms burdened with a long package wrapped in thick brown paper. With Jace reading over the list, she perused the shelves for her required textbooks, Mrs. Weasley heading into the secondhand section.
"That must be Kane," he said, digging into his coat pocket. He handed her the list. "It might be sensitive information so I should step away. All that's missing is Defensive Magical Theory. Don't think I've read that one. I'll find you when I'm done."
Katrina continued down the shelves. She was wary of touching the books, unaware if they were enchanted. Though she trusted Kane's skills, having worn her gloves since she was about five, a nagging internal voice always warned her that one slip-up could lead to a terrible accident.
BANG
Startled by the ear-splitting blast, coming from within the nearby joke shop, she stumbled into the shelf of defense books. Purrsephone hopped out of her purse, dashing out of the sight.
"Purrsephone, come b—"
Rounding the same corner, Katrina collided with something hard, knocking her to the floor. Across from her was a tall boy with well-coiffed white blonde hair, one hand against his temple and the other steadying him against a bookcase. He angrily muttered under his breath. Rubbing her shoulder, she scrambled to her feet, her mind still reeling with Purrsephone's disappearance.
"I—I'm sorry. I didn't—I should've been looking where I was going," she said, apologetically. "I have a healing paste in my bag, if you need it."
The boy simply stared at her, his mouth hanging open. "It's fine." He lowered his hand to his side. "I've gotten knocked around worse in a quidditch match."
"That's good." She realized it was a poor choice of words. "Not that you get hurt playing quidditch. I meant—sorry, I'm all over the place. My cat got spooked by what was going on in that joke shop and she's not used to loud noises. I don't know where she went."
"Do you want help finding her?" he asked, stepping towards her. "Two pairs of eyes are better than one. What does she look like?"
"She's white with dark markings on her paws and ears and she has a blue collar," she said, hoping the adventurous kitten had not bolted out onto the street.
Katrina searched the book shop, growing more concerned as she could not find Purrsephone or Jace. Being confined to Kane's manor with little social interaction had strengthened their connection. Checking underneath a table of Divination books, she heard someone clear their throat. The blonde boy was holding a mewing Purrsephone with one hand.
In her haste to stand, Katrina almost banged her head on the table. He had found Purrsephone pawing at books in the creatures section, likely fascinated by the moving animals on the cover.
"Thank you," said Katrina, taking the kitten and placing her in her purse. "If you didn't help, I don't know if I would've been able to find her."
His grey eyes fell on the supply list, Purrsephone nibbling on the edge. "Do you go to Hogwarts? I've never seen you before and you wouldn't exactly blend in…with your accent."
"I just moved here." It was technically the truth. "I'll be in fifth year."
"I'll be going into fifth year too," he replied. "I could tell you all about it at Fortescue's ice cream parlor. I'm Draco Malfoy."
Katrina was saved from thinking up an excuse for not shaking his outstretched hand by Jace appearing at her side. A charged tension circulated the two boys, Draco's kind demeanor swiftly replaced with a contemptuous glare.
"Moore," he hissed.
"Malfoy, out and about? I'm shocked," said Jace, mockingly. "Shouldn't you be harassing your newest house-elf instead of a girl?"
"H—he wasn't bothering me," whispered Katrina. "Purrsephone ran off and he helped me find her."
"How convenient that he was there." His tone suggested that it was not a coincidence. "Whatever you were doing, Malfoy, go back to it and leave her alone. She doesn't need to be associated with your filth."
"Draco, here you are. Why is Pansy crying to her father that you left her in the apothecary? I've taught you better manners than that," said an irritated voice.
A middle-aged man, his resemblance to Draco undeniable, walked towards them, gripping a snake-headed cane. The way he carried himself reminded her of Kane, imposing and powerful, yet she doubted he faced much hardship in his life, judging by his expensive traveling cloak and his air of superiority.
"Well, well, the young Moore. Aren't you far from home? What brings you to Diagon Alley? Surely MACUSA's rising star has much on his plate." His cold eyes drifted from Jace to a curious Katrina. "Oh my, isn't this a pleasure? There's no mistaking that lovely face. The lost Potter. Katrina, isn't it? Lucius Malfoy."
As his father held out his hand, several emotions, from confusion to disbelief, flickered across Draco's face. Katrina retreated slightly behind a snarling Jace.
"Your return is nothing short of a marvel," he said, amused. "To think you survived such a terrifying ordeal and yet a stranger wouldn't know it. How intriguing that your savior is at your side."
"I like to follow up on my cases," replied Jace. "Maybe you should keep that in mind if Scrimgeour's office ever wises up to you and asks my Ministry for assistance in the matter. It'll be a big change from a cushy manor to a jail cell."
Mr. Malfoy merely chuckled at the threat. "That recklessness of yours…it will get you in trouble one day, Moore. Come along, Draco. We shouldn't keep the Parkinsons waiting." He turned back to Katrina. "An honor, Miss Potter. I do hope we will meet again under better circumstances."
Looking at Katrina, losing the harshness he reserved for Jace, Draco hesitated before leaving the shop with his father. Jace warned her to stay away from Draco and his friends at Hogwarts, describing the Malfoys as an elitist pureblood family. Mr. Malfoy was allegedly one of Voldemort's top death eaters, avoiding persecution by claiming to be under the imperius curse. Considering Jace's father aided in the arrest of the death eaters during the first war and their opposing views, there was a hidden animosity between the families.
"That snotty son is rotten too," argued Jace. "He's learned from his father how to put on a mask around people. I know you didn't know but you need to watch who you talk to, Katrina. People might seem nice but you don't know their true intentions and I guarantee that these death eaters are going to use their kids to spy on you and Harry."
"I—I know," she said, quietly.
"I got your defense book for you and something else." Moving his hand from behind his back, he showed her an enchanted sketchpad. "I thought you might like a new one. It'll take your mind off things…or people…"
"What does that mean?" she asked, flipping through it in interest.
"Kane had a lengthy conversation with Dumbledore about how the Order members aren't too good in combat and he wants the best of his task force there to show them a few tricks." Jace rubbed the back of his neck. "Me, my dad, Elizabeth, Isabel, Dimitri, Lukas…"
Katrina waited for him to say it was a terrible joke. "W—why Lukas?"
"Like him or not, he is talented. A complete scumbag but talented," lamented Jace. "He'll play nice around Kane. If anyone can reign in his horrible tendencies, it's his uncle. It's one night and then you're off to Hogwarts where you'll hopefully never have to see him again."
Catching up with Mrs. Weasley, they finished their shopping around Diagon Alley, thankfully avoiding another confrontation with the Malfoys, and returned to an unusually quiet Grimmauld Place. Everyone, including Remus, Bill, Tonks, another auror named Kingsley Shacklebolt, and a former auror named Alastor Moody who was commonly referred to as Mad-Eye Moody, was in the room where she and Kane had their late night training sessions. A disgruntled Sirius stood next to Harry, the Weasley children, and Hermione, mimicking Kane as he spoke with Moody.
Jace joined his father and the other task force members, in the midst of their own conversation. Katrina secretly scanned the room, wondering if she could sneak away without alerting anyone to her absence.
"Hi Kitty Cat," a deep voice said in her ear.
A chill ran down her spine at a hand trailing the bottom of her skirt. Without even looking, she knew it belonged to Kane's nephew, Lukas. Katrina would prefer an eternity of confinement to being within a foot of the vulgar boy, in sharp contrast to his respectable uncle, whose favorite hobby was pestering Katrina with lecherous stares and comments. He never dared to be so brash in front of Kane, devising ways to get alone time with her.
"Don't call me that," she whispered, refusing to look at him.
"Been dreaming about me lately?" He twisted one of her curls around his finger. "You've definitely kept me up lots of nights. Don't you want some experience before you go to your new school?"
Kane inadvertently rescued her by beginning the session. A repulsed Katrina wandered over to Harry, feeling Lukas's eyes on her body. The plan was for the task force to show their usual drills then to practice with the Order members.
"Is he always this…what's a nice way of saying crazy?" muttered Ron, listening to Kane bark orders.
Hermione smacked his arm with the back of her hand. "He's a gifted auror, Ron. In all the books detailing the war with you know who, he's constantly mentioned for his skill in battle."
"Doesn't mean he's not a nutter," he countered.
"How was Diagon Alley?" Harry asked Katrina. "Any run-ins with reporters?"
"No," she said, choosing not to mention the encounter with the Malfoys.
Katrina was used to the arduous training sessions, taking part or secretly watching them from her hiding spot. Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys seemed taken aback by the fast-paced dueling, not typically taught in a school. Ginny had mentioned a club in her first year but it was an utter failure, taught by the incompetent Gilderoy Lockhart. While they failed to keep up without losing track, Katrina was able to follow each movement, no matter how small. They showed an interest in their mixed styles, incorporating hand-to-hand along with their spell casting.
"Be honest, Carlisle," said Sirius, as Kane eyed his team beside Katrina. "You wanted to show off your star pupils. We don't need any tips. We can handle ourselves fine in a duel."
"I've seen you duel, Black. With your lack of focus, you'd be dead in minutes against a competent wizard. You haven't changed since the old days. You should set a better example. If you don't want to improve, perhaps the young ones want to have a go," he said, his arms crossed over his chest. "Your godson needs a lesson. The way he fights, he'd lose to a squib."
His comment caused the Order members and teenagers to glance away from the ongoing drills. "I can duel. I fought against Voldemort," said Harry, clenching his fists.
Kane kept his eyes forward, a smirk tracing his lips. "Yes, we heard about your impressive disarming charm, a basic defense capable of being cast by a toddler. You were saved by your twin cores, boy. It was luck, not skill."
Both Sirius and Harry were fuming, steam emerging from their ears. Glaring at Kane, Harry looked to Katrina to defend him but she kept quiet, knowing her blunt guardian made a rude but valid point. His anger persisted through Kane's impromptu training session, the Order members holding their own for most of their duels, and the party Mrs. Weasley arranged to celebrate Ron and Hermione becoming prefects. During dinner, she sat between Hermione and Ginny, discussing Hogwarts and the lifestyle in the United States.
Ginny giggled into her butterbeer. "He can't keep his eyes off you, Katrina," she whispered. "He's really cute."
Clearly referring to Lukas, who was seated directly across from Katrina, she feigned a weak smile. A restless Purrsephone provided her with a good reason to leave the basement for a few minutes of peace. On the way to her room, she felt a familiar tingling in her hand and peeked into the drawing room they had spent days cleaning, all of the garbage tossed into a burlap sack. Katrina opened the sack, taking out the silver box she had first seen in the glass cabinet. A warmth spread through her palm as her thumb brushed over the runic inscriptions.
"Is someone being naughty?" The box was snatched from her hand, Lukas dangling it in the air. "Are you looking for a fix, Kitty Cat?"
"N—no," she said, trying to stay calm. "Leave me alone."
An invisible barrier formed in the doorway. Before she could reverse the spell, Lukas pinned her back against the wall.
"You don't have to lie to me. My uncle wants to restrict you but what's so wrong with it? I have a much better method." He licked his lips, his fingers digging into her waist. "I won't tell. I know you want to…"
"Lukas—" she started.
The door burst open and Lukas was knocked back by a jet of silver light, Jace pointing his wand between his pale blue eyes. Threatening to out his unwanted advances to Kane, he snarled when Lukas merely smirked, blowing a kiss to a trembling Katrina before leaving the room. Jace accompanied her to her room, in case Lukas was hoping for a round two.
"Did you take your potion?" he asked, noting her shaking hand.
"Yes, before dinner." He sat beside her on the bed. "I could feel the magic from this box without touching it. It's never happened like that. What if the potion's not working anymore?"
"It could be your magic adjusting to your new surroundings," he suggested. "If it happens again, we'll go to Kane."
Katrina spent the rest of the night in her room with Jace, playing with Purrsephone and concealing the faint pain in her fingertips.
