"You're free to take one, if you like." Dumbledore tipped the bowl of sherbet lemons towards her. "Professor McGonagall believes they aren't healthy but I find that they ease my nerves now and then and I do have a sweet tooth."
Katrina kept her head down, the same position she had been in for the past fifteen minutes. It required little effort to obtain the password from Roger at the end of the tryouts. After announcing his picks for keeper and beaters, Finn musing that a fourth year girl was a talented seeker in a subtle dig at Cho, he beckoned Katrina from the stands, waiting for the pitch to clear before broaching the subject of flying lessons. Using the excuse of a forgotten meeting with Dumbledore to discuss how she was adjusting to the school, she was able to find the location of his office and avoid the chance of touching a broom.
When she entered the circular room, the elderly headmaster was tinkering with a deluminator. Katrina's planned speech was sapped from her brain the moment their eyes met, leading her to sit in front of his desk in total silence under the inquisitive stares of the portraits of old headmasters and headmistresses that hung on the walls.
"Something's wrong with me," she said, fiddling with her mother's necklace. "I can't be around people."
He clasped his hands on top of the desk. "What's sparked this dour epiphany? Are you experiencing issues with your classmates?"
Katrina unloaded the events of the past two days, from her burnt pillow to accidentally draining her Herbology class and Professor Sprout, in a single breath, a heavy weight lifted from her chest. Dumbledore did not visibly react, instead scribbling on a scrap of parchment that vanished into thin air. Seconds later, the flames in his fireplace turned acid green and Kane emerged, brushing soot from his sleeves. Seeing a distraught Katrina, his assumption was that she had another run-in with Liam until Dumbledore relayed her words prior to his arrival.
"There is nothing wrong with you," stated Kane, preferring blunt words over a consoling hug or pat on the back. "That powder was never a permanent solution, Katrina. The fact that it's lasted over the years is a testament to your control but your abilities are constantly growing. I can strengthen the enchantment on your gloves while I devise a better method."
"It seems to stem from bouts of stress. Perhaps Severus can brew a draught to mitigate that," proposed Dumbledore. "Is there anything else on your mind?"
"I was at the quidditch pitch watching the Ravenclaw team tryouts and someone tried to use legilimency on me," she confessed. "I fought back and I saw a memory. It was of my younger self in the manor with this boy. He took off my gloves and then Kane interrupted and dragged him out."
Dumbledore and Kane shared a quick glance. Her guardian rarely showed emotion but a brief unease flickered across his bearded face. Katrina half expected her concerns to be dismissed, a figment of her imagination from her anxiety over the accident in Herbology. Kane, never one to shy away from tough conversations, explained that the boy was a former member of the task force named Cayden. During the first wizarding war, Cayden's parents were murdered by death eaters at their home in Bristol and having no other known family, Kane offered to care for him until he was of age. Though he excelled in Kane's training, his desire to be the best conflicted with group missions.
His inability to work with the team led Kane to sideline him, keeping him in the manor. Cayden trained tirelessly to prove his worth, searching for ways to push the boundaries of magic. When Katrina was brought to the manor, he eavesdropped on a meeting with Kane and his top team members learning of her siphon ability. Never allowed to be alone with her for his own safety, he sneaked up to her bedroom whenever Kane was out on business and after several attempts, he broke through the protective enchantments and experimented with her magic.
Catching him in the act, the same memory she witnessed on the quidditch pitch, Kane kept him in a blocked off wing of the manor. He was forced to bring him back on the team when the British Ministry had a lead on the whereabouts of rogue death eaters eager to take up Voldemort's mantle, wanting his superior members to aid in the pursuit. In the ensuing fight, Cayden was killed by a death eater, one of several casualties on both sides.
"I saw the body myself, Albus. He's dead," said Kane, definitively.
"The same was thought of Voldemort," replied Dumbledore. He rose from his desk. "We cannot rule anything out. It would explain how his death eaters have been evading your team. Cayden knows your task force inside and out. Surely you can agree that it's not coincidence that his reappearance aligns with Katrina being out in the open."
"D—do you think he told Voldemort the truth about me?" asked Katrina, worried.
"According to Severus, he's made no indication of knowing. Cayden may be holding some secrets close to the vest, as it were…for his purposes." His wrinkled fingers ran through his silvery beard. "What that is, I am not sure of yet but it likely involves you, Katrina. We will get to the bottom of this."
"I could get in his head again," she offered. "Maybe—"
"No." She looked at a pensive Kane. "You'll leave him to us, if this was his doing. Don't you have homework to do?"
He waved his wand over her gloves, fortifying the enchantment. Returning to the common room, she sat at a table where Sophie, Fay, and Hermione were among those working on their assignments. Harry was not the only one missing from the packed common room, serving his detention with Umbridge, and upon Katrina mentioning Ron's absence, Hermione theorized that he was aiding Fred, George, and Lee with testing their inventions in a secret location to evade a verbal lashing.
Opening her Herbology textbook, she heard a squealing noise like a tiny mouse. It was coming from Sophie, who was rhythmically tapping her foot on the floor.
"How did it go with Roger?" asked Sophie, oblivious to her quill piercing her parchment.
Katrina was puzzled by her excitement. "He filled the positions he needed so I guess it went well. It was hard to pay attention with all the girls cheering for him from the stands."
"Who wouldn't? He's so handsome," she said, dreamily. "When we had the Yule Ball last year, tons of girls wanted to ask him but he ended up going with the Beauxbatons champion. There was a rumor that she was part veela so who could blame him? They're not dating now. He is completely single."
"I know what you're implying but can you not say that stuff around Harry?" begged Katrina. "He was freaking out over me watching the tryouts. Nothing is going on between me and Roger."
She poked Katrina's arm with her quill. "For now…"
The rest of the week passed without a major incident. Katrina continued with her morning routine, Harry too tired to accompany her thanks to Umbridge keeping him in detention until nearly midnight but covering for her if someone questioned her early strolls, a needed release for her frustrations over Lukas and a certain blonde Slytherin. Draco was climbing up her list of people she despised, rivaling Lukas's hard-earned top spot which was not a small feat.
Contrary to Lukas's overt advances, Draco was sly, using any opportunity to stand near her during shared lessons and masking compliments to her under the guise of irking her brother. He seemed incapable of understanding that she had no interest in befriending him, aware that he had an incentive behind his actions. For all his overtures of kindness, it was a fancy ploy to procure information for Voldemort. A deterrent she discovered was Roger, with Draco abandoning his ill-devised schemes when he saw him around her, possibly due to his Head Boy status.
While it scared off her secret tormentor, it gave the Gryffindor girls ammunition for their 'Katrina dating Roger Davies' campaign, Sophie and Parvati dissolving into giggles if he glanced over at her during meals. Harry was not as amused by their burgeoning friendship, though he did not have time to berate her between lessons and detentions. Back in the common room at midnight and sometimes later, he would not say much about the long hours in Umbridge's office, beyond claiming that he wrote lines as punishment for his 'nasty, attention-seeking stories'.
If there was one thing she missed about her sheltered life, it was privacy. She could not leave a room without her friends offering to join her, under the impression that she would crumble without another person by her side. The downfall of her kidnapping tale was that everyone, even the professors, treated her like a fragile, porcelain doll. In the moments she had to herself, she sat in the library under the pretense of doing homework but in actuality, she was finding out more about Cayden.
Kane remained adamant about his death, believing that Katrina had unlocked her memory of the encounter while combating against her attacker's occlumency. Unable to assist with his investigation, she combed through books in the history section related to the events of the first wizarding war.
An unusually pleased Harry strolled into the Great Hall and sat next to Katrina. "I sent your letter to Lupin with Hedwig," he whispered. He watched her finish her glass of water of orange juice in one sip. "Why are you in a ru—don't tell me you're going to the library again. You can't still have homework. It's a nice day outside. Why are you holing yourself up in there?"
Katrina was saved from answering by the morning owls swooping past to deliver mail. As she did every morning, Hermione paid the owl delivering the Daily Prophet and disappeared behind its pages. Harry was about to take a bite of his eggs when she mumbled about Sirius in an anguished whisper. He snatched at the newspaper so violently that it tore in half and Hermione shifted closer to Ron, placing the split halves on the table. An article noted that the Ministry received a tip on Sirius being spotted in London. Harry was convinced that the alleged tip was from Mr. Malfoy, who could have recognized Sirius's animagus form on the platform.
Flattening his half of the newspaper, he read the blurb glumly. "They won't find him," assured Katrina. "He wouldn't go outside, especially not now. Remus wouldn't let him."
"I hope s—hey, look at this," he said, pointing to the bottom of the page.
Underneath an advertisement for Madam Malkin's was a brief article detailing the arrest of Sturgis Podmore for trespassing at the Ministry. He was a member of the Order who aided in bringing Harry to Grimmauld Place. Apprehended by a watchwizard for attempting to break into a top-security door at one o'clock in the morning, he had been sentenced to six months in Azkaban. Harry recalled that Podmore was supposed to be part of the guard on the day they boarded the Hogwarts Express, Moody complaining about his tardiness. Ron quietly suggested that he had been lured to the Ministry and falsely accused of a crime to hinder Dumbledore, suspecting Podmore of working with him.
"I'm going to the library," said Katrina, using the article as a distraction.
"You're not spending all day in there," asserted Harry. "You're coming with me to quidditch practice later."
"I will," she conceded.
"I'll come with you, Katrina," said Sophie, getting up from the table. "Maybe you can help me get past the first sentence of my Transfiguration essay."
Katrina could not dissuade her without drawing suspicion. As they walked to the library, Sophie gushed over her play petition, planning to meet with McGonagall during lunch. She reasoned it was safer to speak with her head of house before bringing it to Dumbledore. While Katrina helped with her essay, she pretended to be working on an essay on giant wars for History of Magic, already completed the day it had been assigned by Binns.
Wading through the history section, halting her search to get a book for a frail third year girl, she started from where she left off the day before, opening a book exclusively on the war, skimming the pages of casualties. Beneath each name was the location and cause of death, along with details about the victims and in some cases, a newspaper clipping.
Startled by a familiar cough ("Hem, hem"), Katrina altered the cover to one pertaining to giants. She turned around to Umbridge at the end of the shelves, wearing that insincere wide smile.
"Good morning, professor," she said, courteously.
"I thought I might find you here, Miss Potter. How refreshing to see a student who cares about her studies. The education of your peers has been staggered, to put it lightly, and I don't want you to experience such failings." It was a retread of her speech in Defense Against the Dark Arts, belittling the previous professors. "With all you've been through, a proper education is of the utmost importance. With that said, I think it would be beneficial for you to have a trusted classmate…a mentor, as if were…"
Umbridge gestured to someone hidden by the shelves. As Katrina was about to protest, by bringing up her summer tutoring sessions with Snape, her confusion became dread at Draco appearing beside the squat professor. Adopting a tone of admiration, Umbridge waxed on about his impressive grades, deeming him top of their class despite that honor obviously belonging to Hermione and an upstanding student. It was a testament to her strength that Katrina listened to those blatant lies with the utmost politeness.
"Hermione's top of the class," she said, matter-of-factly, as Umbridge left the library.
"If you go by our substandard curriculum, maybe," he replied, leaning against the shelf of 19th century history books. "The Ministry is seeking to correct that. Professor Umbridge wants you to succeed, Katrina. It's not like I went to her with concerns that your housemates weren't providing you with a conducive learning environment and offered my services."
"No, that would be mental." Draco smirked at her pointed retort. "I'm doing fine in my lessons."
He followed her down the History section. "Umbridge tasked me with giving her weekly reports on your progress. It would be a shame if I had to tell her that you're doing poorly and you're as unstable as your brother. What would she say if she heard that you were hexing students to do your work for you? Bullying your classmates is no laughing matter."
"You want to waste your time? Be my guest," she said, refusing to fall for his tricks. "Whatever you're after, you won't get it from me."
"The pleasure of your company is enough." His eyes passed over her short houndstooth skirt. "And I certainly don't object to the view."
The pseudo-charming advances ceased as she returned to her table with Sophie. They barely acknowledged each other, aside from spitting out their surnames with pure venom. Learning about him being her 'mentor', Sophie accused him of using Katrina in his rivalry against Harry, mocking Umbridge's outlandish declarations of him being a perfect student.
His nostrils flared at her insult about never beating Hermione in an exam. "Who asked you, you filthy mu—" He furtively glanced at Katrina, who had stopped flipping through the history book. "Shut it, Roper. Grades are subjective. They mean nothing to a real wizard."
"Well, Mr. Real Wizard, as fun as it is to be subjected to your pureblood supremacy drivel, I have somewhere to be," said Sophie, putting away her finished essay and Transfiguration book. "I'd ask you to come, Katrina, but the ferret over here will go crying to Umbridge then. My condolences to your sanity."
The scene in the library was reminiscent of when he previously invaded her privacy in the very same room. Draco resorted to his tried and true method of tapping his fingers on the table, increasing its tempo the longer she avoided talking to him. She maintained her silence when he rightly addressed her constant trips to the library, casting doubt on her unfinished homework. With Harry and now Draco questioning her, she realized she needed a better excuse for the future visits.
"I can read," she replied, to his offer of deciphering a page.
Feeling him inch closer, she blocked the book's contents with her bag. "Granger's a miracle worker, teaching you to read overnight."
"I know everyone thinks I spent my life chained up in complete darkness but wouldn't having me barely alive and uneducated be counterintuitive to my kidnapper's whole plan?" The list of deaths in 1974 was replaced with a fake passage on famous giants. "Are you equally shocked that I can use a fork without poking myself in the eye?"
He rested his chin against his head, entertained by her wit. "And did he teach you how to duel? There are theories going around. That Snape actually cast the spell, that your pal Davies did it, that it was you but your kidnapping story doesn't add up…care to share? It'll be our secret."
"It was basic instinct." Getting up from the table, she mimed an explosion around her head. "If you want to gossip about conspiracy theories, you should be with your friends who spend all their time calling my brother insane."
Stopping by Madam Pince's desk, she checked out the history book, sandwiched between others, the vulturelike librarian giving her strict instructions on returning the books in pristine condition while placing a blood red stamp on their inside covers. Katrina walked towards the quidditch pitch, to keep her promise, where Harry and Ron were heading into the Gryffindor changing rooms.
A bad feeling in her gut, she decided to tell Harry about his rival being foisted upon her as a mentor by a potentially well-meaning or scheming Umbridge. Being upfront would lessen his reaction to Draco being around her, at least in Katrina's mind. As she neared the room, she held her hand over her eyes, not wanting to see something inappropriate.
A chuckle caught her attention. "We're all decent."
The entire team, except for Angelina, was in the room, pulling on their quidditch robes. Ron looked visibly ill, his face a pale shade of green. The reason for his late night absences had been explained when it was revealed that he was Gryffindor's new keeper. His solo excursions were for him to practice his skills before the tryouts. Fred and George openly admitted to Fay, who had been hoping for the same position until her father prohibited her from attending the tryouts, that he was not the best candidate, commenting on his spotty performance.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked her, stepping away from the team. "You look like you swallowed poison."
"Umbridge spoke to me in the library. She wants me to have a mentor to help me…" she said, preparing herself for his reaction. "She picked Malfoy."
"Mal—she's full of it, Katrina," he hissed, stifling his anger. "It's some plot she made with Fudge to spy on both of us. I'm not leaving you alone with that prat. Merlin knows what he's got up his sleeve. What if it doesn't have to do with the Ministry? I never told you what happened last night."
At the end of his final detention, Umbridge touched his arm and a simultaneous pain seared through his scar. Despite Hermione's reasonable explanation that it was a coincidence, he wondered if Voldemort was possessing Umbridge as he had done with their first year Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He rebuffed Katrina's suggestion of telling Dumbledore, muttering that he had more important matters to deal with besides a fleeting pain that could be attributed to something insignificant.
As he scratched the side of his nose, she noticed an odd cut on the back of his hand. Harry began to slip it into his pocket but Katrina grabbed it, gazing at the words etched into his skin: I must not tell lies. Writing lines was a kind way of describing what he endured in Umbridge's detentions. Using an enchanted quill, he wrote those exact words, the sentence carved in his skin and onto the parchment.
"I'm not going to Dumbledore," he said, reading her mind. "It was my last detention. I think it'll go away and I'm not giving that toad the satisfaction of getting to me."
"But it's dark magic. It can't be allowed," she reasoned. Against her finer judgement, she rolled up her sleeve. "Give me your hand."
Katrina removed a glove and aimed her wand at the cut. Pretending to cast a healing charm, she gripped his hand, biting the inside of her cheek to conceal her pain. The cut vanished within seconds and sticking her wand in her bag, she put her glove back on, her fingertips glowing red.
"Thanks," he said, grateful yet unaware of what healed him.
Exiting the changing room, she took a sip of her potion to absorb the magic. Fay and Sophie were already seated in the stands. Sophie's meeting with McGonagall had gone well, with the promise of setting up a discussion with Dumbledore, though Fay teased McGonagall only agreed with Sophie to end any artsy talk. As Sophie rambled on about potential play ideas, her voice was drowned out by a series of cackles. Draco climbed up the stands with Crabbe, Goyle, Theodore, Pansy and her clique, and a handful of older Slytherins, including those on the Slytherin quidditch team.
"Don't you snakes have anything better to do?" asked Fay, her mood souring at the sight of them.
"Are you offering, Dunbar?" One of the seventh year boys, who Draco referred to as Pucey, eyed her up and down. "You look somewhat decent this year so I'd be into it."
"He's trying to get a rise out of you. Don't let him," Katrina whispered to a seething Fay.
Making the situation worse, the Slytherins stood directly behind the three girls. Katrina opened the history book, casting a charm to reflect different contents to anyone but her, flipping back to the list of casualties. Reading through the vast list, she listened to Pansy's taunts about Hermione rubbing off on her ("She's such a loser.") and the jeers from the boys about the Gryffindor team. Peeping a flash of red from the corner of her eye, she assumed that the team was out on the pitch.
"Grow up," mumbled Sophie, disgusted by Draco's insult of Ron's broom.
The Slytherins did not let up as the team practiced by tossing around a quaffle, roaring with laughter each time Ron failed to catch the round red ball. It was hard to counter their jeers with support when they were greatly outnumbered.
Towards the bottom of the current page, Katrina found a possible match: a Bristol couple murdered in December 1974, their young son the sole survivor of the attack. A light sensation tapped Katrina's back, which she guessed to be Draco. Keeping her eyes on the book, she flipped to the corresponding Daily Prophet article. Above the opening paragraph was a photo of a couple in their late twenties on a porch. Their house was small, quaint, and in need of a few repairs and based on his sunken face and thinning dark hair, the man appeared to be ill. A young boy was sitting on the top step, his features similar to the boy in her memory.
BRISTOL FAMILY TORN APART
Rufus Scrimgeur, a well-regarded auror and potential successor as head of the office, announced early this morning the deaths of Nathan and Amara Coller. The aurors, along with a special team of MACUSA aurors led by the revered Kane Carlisle, arrived to find their home ablaze, a Dark Mark looming over the ominous scene. The couple, survived by their six year old son Cayden, was pronounced dead shortly after, both victims of the killing curse. The family was described as reclusive and private by their neighbors, who were unaware of their tragic history. Coller was the name adopted by the patriarch after becoming estranged from his family, particularly his younger brother Andrew Davies, a respected employee in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. No definitive explanation has been given for the separation but rumor has it that Nathan's relatives were not supportive of his relationship with Amara Santos, the two lovebirds eloping after a brief courtship. Likewise, the reason for the targets on their backs, whether it was intentional or random, and the whereabouts of their son Cayden are being kept under wraps. Andrew and his wife Nancy have not yet commented on the situation. Details on the case to follow as we learn more about the attack.
Katrina read the article a dozen times, checking for a mistake. Hadn't Kane said Cayden had no known relatives? Was Roger aware of his existence or even his death?
"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" called Draco. "Sure you don't need a lie-down? It must be what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing. That's a record for you, isn't it?"
"Oh no, did we upset you, Potter?" teased Pansy, as Katrina sidled down the row. "Do you need your blankie?"
"Shut up, you pug!" shouted Fay, igniting a spat between the two girls.
As they argued ("Dumb-bar? So original."), Katrina left the stands and hid behind a wooden pillar. She grabbed her two-way mirror, writing You lied about his family on the glass.
"You're not running off because of me, are you?" Draco saw the mirror in her hand. "Did Carlisle give you that so he could come riding in on a horse like some brave knight? You're not the first girl he's used that on, you know. It's his patented move. Come save the poor damsel in distress and all that rub—"
He stopped mid-insult at her glare. "That's exactly how you see me, isn't it? You honestly think you're clever? Well you're not," she snapped. "I see right through you and this game of yours. I may have been shut away from the world but it doesn't mean I'm naive. The man who kidnapped me told all about the people he used to associate with, like your father. I know the kind of person he is and who he roots for and why you're so intent on getting to know me. I may be a so-called damsel and there may be times where I find myself in distress but I'm perfectly capable of saving myself. I don't need a knight in shining armor. Not Lukas, not my brother, and definitely not a spineless prat like you."
For all of Kane's grousing over Harry's hotheaded nature, Katrina was beginning to understand why he had such a short fuse. Anyone who had to deal with constant harassment from people stuck in a childish mindset would explode once in awhile. An irked Katrina climbed through the portrait hole of the Gryffindor common room and sank into an armchair beside Hermione, a rune dictionary open on her lap.
"Is practice over?" she asked Katrina, scribbling under a triangular symbol.
Katrina shook her head. "I left early. The Slytherins were being their usual selves and you can only listen to Malfoy bully Harry so much before you want to hex his mouth off. How do you deal with it?"
"After five years, it's sort of white noise." She closed her book. "It's gotten harder now that it's grown to more than half the school believing that we're as crazy for supporting Harry. Is this just about Malfoy? You're not worried about Liam Chambers, are you? Professor Flitwick informed Harry this morning that he's been ordered to keep his distance and Ginny heard from Michael Corner that his father's out of Azkaban."
A light shined from inside her bag. "No. I'm going to lie down for a bit."
Entering her room, she locked the door and pulled out the mirror. Instead of a message, Kane's face was visible.
"What did I tell you in Dumbledore's office?" he said, winding up for a lecture. "Was I not clear? Whether or not Cayden is alive is not your problem. Why were you digging into his past?"
"He tried to get in my head so in a way, I'm involved," she argued, with little confidence. "You lied about him having no family. I'm friends with his cousin. Did they not want him after his parents died?"
He sighed. "His parents were targeted and I took him in for his protection. When Voldemort was defeated, I arranged for him to stay with his aunt and uncle but he had a negative opinion of them from his parents and preferred to remain distant. I visited them after his death."
Shadows passed the underside of the door. "His cousin is a student here," she said, quietly. Shouldn't I warn—"
"You will not say a word," he warned. "It is classified and given the family's history, there's a high probability that this boy has no idea who he is, Katrina. With the added security on the castle, your attacker will be unsuccessful if they try their occlumency again. As a precaution, you'll perform your breathing exercises in the morning and before bed. I trust you're on top of your training drills."
"As best as I can." She sat on her bed. "It's tough when there are so many people around. I can hardly leave a room without someone wanting to tag along or Lucius Malfoy's son being my shadow."
"Jace enlightened me on that. Let him," advised Kane. "If he's anything like his father, he's not a threat. You let him in but stay one step ahead. If you learn anything of importance, you'll tell me."
When Kane had a plan, it was not up for debate. Katrina wished the opposite was true, not thrilled by the prospect of allowing Draco to get closer to her, let alone playing into his twisted game of becoming her friend.
To push off enacting the plan, Katrina was unable to visit the library the next day, to continue her Cayden investigation. Though Kane opposed her involvement, his words of warning did not discourage her, any information she gathered potentially useful to prove or disprove his death. After her training session, narrowly being caught by Roger and his teammates, she spent all of Sunday with Harry, Ron, and their massive pile of homework, both boys spending the week in detention or practicing for quidditch tryouts. Hermione rebuffed them with a 'you deserve it' attitude, leading them to beg Katrina for help. Ron was fully concentrated on his work, preferring a dream diary to the quidditch pitch and the Slytherins chanting Gryffindors are losers.
Katrina welcomed the opportunity to see Draco as little as possible. By eleven o'clock, they were on their final assignment, an essay about Jupiter's moons. Whenever either was about to fall asleep, Purrsephone pawed at their feet or hopped into their laps.
"From now on, don't wait until the last minute," she said, correcting Harry's sentence on Callisto.
"I've been busy having my hand sliced open every night," he mumbled. "I didn't let it pile up on purp—"
His retort was cut short by Hermione pointing to the nearest window, a handsome screech owl standing on the windowsill. The owl, named Hermes, belonged to Ron's older brother Percy, a supporter of the Ministry and recently promoted to being junior assistant to the Minister for Magic. The promotion caused tension in the Weasley family, his parents deducing that it was Fudge's strategy to spy on those he deemed traitorous for their ties to Dumbledore, and Percy ended up cutting all ties to his family.
A bewildered Ron opened the window, removing the letter tied around its leg. Sitting in his armchair, he read the extensive letter, his confused expression twisting into one of disgust, then thrusted it at Harry, Hermione, and Katrina. The letter started innocent enough, congratulating Ron on becoming a prefect, then veered into rhetoric comparable to the Daily Prophet. Percy recommended that Ron end his friendship with Harry, calling him violent and unbalanced and associating with him would be bad for his future after Hogwarts.
Aside from bashing Harry and Dumbledore, he praised Umbridge as a delightful woman who was striving to make necessary changes to the school, imploring Ron to aid her, slighted his parents for defending Dumbledore despite his relation to 'petty criminals' like Sturgis Podmore, and deemed Katrina a mentally ill, savage child, with a questionable story, being groomed into a new puppet for Dumbledore's insidious agenda. In regards to Katrina, he alluded to the Ministry not believing her story, unnamed Ministry officials convinced that she was a stranger under polyjuice potion.
"Well, if you want to—er—what is it?" Harry checked the letter. "Oh yeah—'sever ties' with me, I swear I won't get violent."
"And I won't try to bite off your nose if you get too close," said Katrina, reading the section about her. "You can write him back that I don't eat meat so you're safe."
Ron tore up the letter and tossed the pieces into the fireplace. Hermione, looking proud of him for not buying into Percy's words, offered to fix his essay. A silent Harry was in his armchair, letting Purrsephone climb up his shirt, as Hermione told Ron what to write, passing him a parchment covered in her own writing.
"They're just words," whispered Katrina. "Don't let them affect you. Eventually, the Ministry will realize they were wrong. Harry?"
Sliding off the chair, Purrsephone perched on his shoulder, he crouched down on his knees by the fireplace. In the middle of the dancing flames was Sirius's head, his long dark hair falling around his face. He had been popping into the fireplace every hour, hoping to find them alone, unconcerned with being seen by another student. Knowing they were on limited time, he talked with Harry about his scar, blaming it on Voldemort's presence, and the discussion shifted to Umbridge. Though he never met her, he was aware of her nasty reputation and prejudice against halfbreeds evident by the legislation she drafted over the years. It was thanks to Umbridge that Remus struggled to find a proper job.
"Sirius!" said Hermione reproachfully, when he joked that Umbridge should be persecuting beings like Kreacher. "Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I'm sure he'd respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he's got left and Professor Dumbledore said—"
"So what are Umbridge's lessons like?" interrupted Sirius. "Is she training you to kill half-breeds?"
"Not unless we're boring them to death with a book," said Katrina. He grinned at her comment. "She's having us read one that might as well have been written by a muggle."
"She's not letting us use magic at all!" exclaimed Harry.
Sirius was not confounded by their claims, revealing that, according to the Order's inside information, Fudge did not want them trained in combat, fearing that Dumbledore was forming a private army to dismantle the Ministry of Magic. In Fudge's delusional mind, Dumbledore wanted his power, his fear-mongering about Voldemort a tool to sway the wizarding world to his side. Katrina listened to Sirius's hasty assurances to Harry, Ron, and Hermione that Hagrid was not in danger, none of them comforted by the fact that he was separated from his traveling companion.
"How are you doing, Katrina?" he asked, changing to a more lighthearted subject. "I hear from Jace that you've got a Slytherin stalker…"
"Malfoy," explained Harry, to Ron and Hermione. "Umbridge made up some fake position for him to be her mentor. It's a load of dung."
"Course it is but Katrina will put him in his place," said Sirius, winking at her. "When's your next Hogsmeade weekend? I was thinking, we got away with the dog disguise at the station, didn't we? I thought I could—"
"NO!" chorused Harry and Hermione.
At the mention of the Daily Prophet article about him, he dismissed it as the Ministry grasping at straws. His smile fell as Harry begged him not to risk leaving his home, out of fear that Draco could recognize him and alert someone like Umbridge.
Sirius looked bitter, a crease between his sunken eyes. "You're less like your father than I thought. The risk would've been what made it fun for James. I'll give Remus your letter when he gets back, Katrina. I'd better get going. I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs. I'll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire then, shall I? If you stand to risk it?"
He disappeared from the flames with a tiny pop.
The following morning answered their curiosity over Percy's reference to the Daily Prophet in his letter. A large photograph of Umbridge was splayed out across the front page of the newspaper, announcing her appointment as Hogwarts High Inquisitor. The article detailed the Ministry's mistrust of teachings at Hogwarts, supposedly in response to anxious parents, and how, through new pieces of legislation, Umbridge was chosen as Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, a last resort due to no one applying for the job, and received her latest title. Created by Fudge, it entailed Umbridge providing feedback on her fellow professors to fix the school's failing standards.
News of Umbridge's position spread throughout breakfast and their first lesson of the day, many ignoring Binns's lecture. Katrina did not voice her opinion aloud, too busy dreading Potions. She managed to avoid looking over at the Slytherin table all morning, with the added difficulty of doing the same with the Ravenclaw table. All it would take was one slip for her to bring up Cayden around Roger. As she walked into the Potions classroom, Fay and Sophie were whispering about Umbridge's upcoming inspections, Fay sure that the position had no real meaning.
Seeing Draco, she knew it was now or never. "Can I talk to you…over there?"
His friends watched them head over to the ingredients cupboard. She waited for Draco to make some comment he considered charming but he was unusually quiet, his back against the wall.
"I'm sorry about yesterday," she said, reciting her practiced speech. In truth, she wanted to scream at Kane for this plan. "I—I didn't mean it. Maybe it's a twin thing and being around Harry after all this time, his feelings are affecting mine. Whatever your father's past, it doesn't mean you're the same and I shouldn't have snapped at you for doing what Umbridge asked of you."
"I'm touched," he replied, his hand over his heart.
Her nails dug into her palm. "And if she thinks I need your help, I accept that but I expect you to take it seriously. I can go to Umbridge too and tell her that you're using this to—"
"To what?" he inquired, teasingly.
"Nice try. Will you look at my essay for her class during lunch?" she asked, as Snape entered the room.
"I'd never shirk my responsibilities, Katrina." He smirked over her shoulder. "I wouldn't want you distracted so we'll work in the Slytherin common room. No one will bother us in there."
Potter glared at Draco as they took their seats. Katrina did not answer when he questioned why she was speaking to him, keeping her eyes on the blank blackboard. Snape handed back the moonstone essays, grading them based on criteria for their OWLs. The quiet groans around the room indicated that most had done poorly, Harry stuffing his essay into his bag and Fay cursing under her breath. Taking a peek at her essay, Katrina saw an O scrawled in the upper corner but masked her happiness, both to not upset Harry and to sell her act to an unsuspecting Draco.
As she worked on her strengthening solution, she had to contend with Harry's pestering, her brother more interested in her secret chat than the lesson. He clammed up when Snape passed to dole out his criticisms. She noticed a folded up piece of parchment near her cauldron, in the spot where Snape had rested his hand while inspecting her potion.
"It's called playing along," she whispered to Harry, filling up a flask. "If I don't let him mentor me, I could get detention. He won't hurt me."
Capping his flask, he wrote his name on the label. "You don't know Malfoy like I do. He only does something if it benefits him."
At the end of the lesson, she took her time to pack her belongings. Draco was being held back by a flirtatious Pansy, who could not last five seconds without brushing against his arm or playing with his hair. Listening to them talk about a Ministry party, Katrina opened the folded parchment. It read Extra scoop of powdered griffin claw, referring to what Harry had done wrong with his potion.
"What's so funny?" asked Draco, catching her faint smile.
"Nothing," she said, the parchment burning to ash in her hand. Leaving the classroom, Pansy eyed her with malice. "Are you finished with your girlfriend?"
"Pansy's not my—we're just friends," he said, with the speed of a billywig. "Ready to go?"
Draco led her to the Slytherin common room, hidden behind a bare stretch of wall. Its overall appearance was similar to the room in Gryffindor Tower, though it was decked out in shades of green, as opposed to red and gold, and had a lavish design. The windows provided an underground view of the lake, Katrina mesmerized by a school of brightly colored fish.
"It's like you've never—" He turned away from the window. "You've never seen a fish. I didn't even…we can sit here, if you want. Loads of them swim by and sometimes, you can see the giant squid."
Still gazing at the fish, she sat at a wooden table, dropping her bag onto the floor. "What a scandal." Pucey and Montague stepped through the wide archway. "Draco's brought a mini Potter into our common room."
"We're in the middle of something," said Draco, as Pucey dragged over another chair. Katrina slid back towards the window. "Why aren't you in the Great Hall?"
"Didn't want to deal with Pansy's wailing so if anything, it's your fault." He leaned over the back of his chair, his eyes on Katrina. "We haven't met properly, have we? I'm Adrian. This is Graham. Your story is so inspiring. I mean, to be trapped with some psycho death eater for years and look at you now. Imagine if Moore hadn't found you on your way to Belfast."
"Kent," corrected Katrina, wary of their intentions.
"My bad. Lee's a scary guy. That grisly scar he's got on the left side of his face…or is it the right?" he pondered. "It's tough to remember. Who'd know better than the girl who spent fifteen years with him?"
Picking up her bag, she left the common room, Draco shouting after her. He caught up with her as she passed Snape's office.
"New plan. We both pretend we're doing what Umbridge asked," she said, before he could feed her a lame excuse. "I'd rather not get ambushed by your friends."
"I didn't—Katrina, I swear I didn't tell Pucey to do any of that. Why would I want him to badger you?" he asked, pleading his case. "We can go somewhere else like the library or an empty classroom."
"It doesn't matter where we are, Malfoy," she countered. "Your friends will remind me of what a freak I am so forgive me if I don't want to be around that."
Katrina spent the remainder of lunch in her room. She fought the desire to vent to Jace, knowing he was likely off on a mission or training. Part of her reluctance was that she did not want to run to him for every little problem like a child. As she worked on a sketch of Purrsephone, she heard a soft tapping sound and lifted her head to see an eagle owl outside her window. She untied the package around its leg, a box wrapped in emerald green paper. Inside was a snow globe filled with water and swimming fish, the scenery changing as she touched the glass. At the bottom of the box was a note.
I thought you'd like the view. Please accept my apology.
-Draco
