Throughout Divinations, Katrina wrestled with giving Draco a second chance. On the one hand, it would simplify her life if she could cut all ties with the arrogant Slytherin but then it would mean abandoning Kane's plan. In the end, Kane's desires eclipsed her own, particularly in regards to getting information. As much as she wanted to believe it was true, she could not completely blame him for Pucey's interrogation in the common room. Her conscience told her that beneath the horrible insults and inability to accept rejection, he was being sincere with his apology.

Her atypical daydreaming went unnoticed by her peers, due to Umbridge's inspection. The toad-faced professor and newly instated High Inquisitor spent the hour following Trelawney around the room, scribbling notes on a clipboard as the Divinations professor, a tremor in her mystical voice, questioned students about their dream diaries. While Sophie was attempting to interpret Fay's dream about flying rabbits, Katrina wrote I'll partially accept your apology. Meet me in library at five o'clock and added a drawing of a clownfish, the message seeping into the parchment.

Towards the end of the lesson, the inspection, which had been going well for someone as unconventional as Trelawney, took a downturn when Umbridge's line of questioning became personal, digging into her claims of being a seer. Provoked by her mild skepticism, Trelawney bristled at her request for a prediction, which she did rather dramatically, to appease her, by declaring Umbridge was in grave danger. Once Umbridge left through the trapdoor, Trelawney took out her foul mood on the class, interpreting Harry's dream diary as grim omens.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was even worse, with Hermione immediately drawing Umbridge's ire. Another argument erupted between the pair, Hermione disparaging the book, which she had read in its entirety and Umbridge sniping at her that the author's opinion mattered more than that of a teenage girl. Harry added fuel to the fire, speaking up at the indignity of five points being deducted from Gryffindor, and earning himself another week of detention for mentioning Voldemort's possession of Professor Quirrell.

Katrina kept her head down during the exchange, knowing that Umbridge was covertly gauging her reaction to her brother's rant. If she wanted to stay on her good side, Katrina needed to portray herself as at least neutral in this ongoing battle. Though she shared in their frustrations, she thought it would be wiser to take Kane's advice of adhering to Umbridge's rules to not stir up unnecessary trouble. It was pointless to argue against a woman who was devoted to Fudge and his vendetta against Dumbledore over reason.

At five o'clock, she sat at a back table in the library and opened her Potions book. "I didn't know you could draw." Draco pulled out a chair. "Where'd you learn that spell? I could use it to avoid getting yelled at by McGonagall for talking during a lesson."

"From a book." He seemed slightly discouraged. "Are you all right?"

"After what happened in the common room, I got a letter from my father," he said, sifting through his bag. "There's this boring Ministry party this weekend and whenever he forces me to attend them, he wants me to act a certain way so I don't embarrass him. It's a bunch of higher up officials cooing at you like a toddler, remarking how you've grown a whole centimeter since the last party, or trying to play matchmaker. It makes you wish you were listening to Binns."

Katrina flipped to the page on strengthening solutions. "Did you hear about what happened to the boggart in the forest?"

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

"It was riddikulus," she said, picking up her quill.

Draco suppressed a snicker, earning a disapproving sniffle from a nearby Madam Pince. She spent several minutes organizing books on the shelf by their table. Neither spoke, waiting until she scurried towards the door to reprimand a couple boys with chocolate frogs.

"Did you come up with that yourself?" She nodded. "You've picked up spells pretty fast but your jokes need work. I could come up with better ones in my sleep. Maybe I should be helping you with that instead of Potions homework. Speaking of, how'd you do on the moonstones essay?"

"Okay," she said, evasively.

"Not great, then. I got the top grade in the class, according to Snape. An A isn't perfect but you'd have to be a genius to get higher than that." Her surprise at his bravado was mistaken for being impressed. "Let me see what you've written."

Her plan to befriend Draco required little more than stroking his ego. Katrina opened herself up enough to maintain a safe boundary between them, never telling him too much about her past. It was nowhere near her level of comfort with Jace but letting him sit with her gave him the impression that she was lowering her guard. When he was not bragging about his family or his quidditch skills, he was content with learning about her. Katrina mentally noted that he was somewhat tolerable in those quiet moments.

"I have to patrol down in the dungeons in fifteen minutes," he said, checking his watch. "I can walk you back to your common room."

"You don't have to—" she started.

"I want to." She slipped her Potions book back in her bag and grabbed her wand from the table. "Where'd you get it from? Your wand. I've never seen one like it."

During lessons, she had noticed some people looking at her wand. It was different than most, specifically due to being made in another country. Aside from its origins, it was white with an iridescent mother of pearl inlay and spirals carved into the handle.

"A wand shop back h—well, what used to be home," she explained, leaving the library. "It's aspen with a core of horned serpent horn. Horned serpents are endangered because they were hunted so the core is really rare. There's a myth that the core vibrates inside the wand when it senses danger, like the actual serpents do. It's sort of a musical tone than a vibration though. Jace took me to the shop before bringing me to my aunt and uncle."

"Right. Moore found you," he muttered, sounding disgruntled.

"Why don't you like him?" she asked, remembering the tension in Flourish and Blotts.

A muscle in his jaw twitched as they reached the seventh floor. "Our families have a…complicated history. If our fathers were ever alone in a room, it wouldn't end well. His father's accused mine of things he'd never dare to say if he wasn't head of the aurors at MACUSA. He says my father uses his connections to manipulate people but that's a bit rich coming from a man whose son became an auror a day out of school."

"Jace is talented," she said, unappreciative of the slander. "He earned that position."

"And he's an arrogant as Carlisle. All of the aurors there think they're amazing but if they're so great, why did it take them so long to find you?" He shut his eyes for a second. "I didn't mean that. Some families don't get along, no matter what. Moore may drive me mad but he deserves credit for rescuing you from that psychopath."

She stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. "Thank you for helping me and for the snowglobe. I'm glad I gave you another chance."

"Does this mean I can see you again?" he asked, hopefully. "Preferably just you. No brother, no friends like Roper or Davies…and I promise no ambushes by my dunderheaded friends."

"Well, you are my mentor." Instead of his well-known smirk, he grinned. "Consider it probationary."

"I'll take it. Have a good night, Katrina," he said, before descending down the staircase.

The next day, Katrina came to two conclusions: her brother was monumentally foolish and Draco had a split personality disorder. For all of his griping about Umbridge, Harry was doing a terrible job of controlling himself around her, receiving an extra detention for mouthing off during her Care of Magical Creatures inspection. Draco played a role in the punishment, stoking Harry's rage by bringing up his injury from a hippogriff during their third year, to portray Hagrid's incompetence, and Harry, in retaliation, calling him stupid.

It astounded Katrina that Draco could treat her brother like garbage but around her, he was almost a decent person. She was undecided on which was his true self and if his bullying was borne out of entertaining his friends.

"Does your brother know he's drowning his shrub in fertilizer?" Hannah whispered to her in Herbology.

Katrina gently snipped off a weed. "Umbridge gave him detention again for talking back to Malfoy. I told him that it's smarter to keep his thoughts to himself but he's like an overflowing pot. I don't want to get detention too, even if he's telling the truth, so I'm with him in silent solidarity."

"That's admirable of you. You would've been a perfect Hufflepuff. Are you sure the sorting hat got it right?" she joked.

Returning to the castle, the girls parted in the entrance hall, Hannah heading to the Hufflepuff common room in the basement. As she turned to follow Sophie and Fay to the Great Hall, Fay complaining that Harry's careless pouring of fertilizer had stained her robes, her bag tore open, spilling its contents onto the floor. She kneeled down to pick up everything, flicking her wand to clean a spot of ink from a cracked bottle. A muddy dress shoe stamped on the history book she checked out from the library. Feeling a mild tickle in her palm, she lifted her eyes from the floor to see Liam towering over her.

"Did your bag break, Potter?" he asked, the mud falling onto the cover. "That's bad luck."

His wand was sticking out of his sleeve, posing him as the culprit. "Things happen. Can you—"

"Things do happen," he said, darkly. "Next time, it could be a broken bone. Have you been to the hospital wing yet?"

"Liam." Roger walked through the front door with the other seventh year Ravenclaws. "I can hear your stomach growling from here. Go on."

Not given a favorable choice, faced with his friends intervening or being given detention, Liam grumbled to himself before joining the line shuffling into the Great Hall, Finn commenting that he had 'dibs' on the pork chops. Katrina haphazardly stuffed her books into her bag, afraid of being alone with Roger and blabbing about Cayden, but as she reached for the history book, he grabbed it.

"His dad's trial is set for tomorrow so he's not in a great mood. He shouldn't be taking it out on you." He wiped the mud from the cover. "Why do you have this?"

"M—my parents," she stuttered, the first excuse to pop into her head. "I don't know a lot about them. Harry barely remembers them and whatever he does, I don't want to bother him because he's dealing with loads of detentions and other things…"

"I understand," he said, looking sympathetic. "What happened to them was awful. I know what it's like to lose family."

It was a potential loophole to Kane forbidding her from mentioning Cayden. "You do?"

"My aunt and uncle were murdered by death eaters," he replied. "It happened before I was born so I never met them. Didn't know they existed until my third year either. My uncle cut himself off from the family after he married my aunt. From what my brother Chester told me, the relationship was pretty unhealthy. My aunt was a taker, you could say, and for all my uncle gave her, she was never satisfied and that attitude is what got them targeted by you know who."

Keeping her hands behind her back, she pinched her wrist to stop herself from prying into their deaths. She had not yet found any reference to Cayden's supposed demise, chalking it up to the fact that it occurred after the war and people were less interested in that post-war period. Kane seemed to be right that Roger was clueless about his estranged cousin. Giving her the book, Roger recommended for her to ask the professors about her parents, some having likely taught them as students and their stories more personal, giving her an idea.

That night, she waited in the common room for Harry with Ron and Hermione. To waste time and procrastinate from doing any work, Ron began to teach her wizard's chess using a set he inherited from his grandfather. Katrina was aided by the advice of the enchanted white pieces. As her knight hauled his pawn off the board, Hermione poured a solution of strained murtlap tentacles into a bowl.

"We need to figure out what to do about Umbridge," she said, corking the half empty bottle. "Her lessons are a joke and with this High Inquisitor position, who knows what else she could do?"

"Yeah, like slip poison into her tea," said Ron, debating his next move.

Hermione was about to reply to his sarcasm when Harry entered the common room, a bloody scarf wrapped around his hand. Giving him the bowl to soak his hand, she restarted her Umbridge conversation to discuss the possibility of learning defensive magic themselves, to counter her pitiful teaching. Ron was not keen to add to their rigorous workload, less than enthusiastic at Hermione's impassioned speech about being prepared to defend themselves in the real world. Sounding increasingly apprehensive about needing a proper teacher, she rejected Harry's proposal of Remus, who was too busy working for the Order.

"Who, then?" asked Harry, frowning.

Hermione sighed. "Isn't it obvious? I'm talking about you, Harry."

Thinking he heard her wrong, he turned to Ron, expecting him to laugh but he appeared to be in deep thought, no longer calling Hermione insane. His two best friends listed off all the reasons he was a perfect teacher, from his adventures over the years, fighting off a hundred dementors at once and saving the sorcerer's stone from Voldemort, to beating Hermione in an exam set by Remus, their sole knowledgeable professor in the subject. Harry was not persuaded, Katrina noticing him growing impatient by the minute.

The bowl of murtlap essence was shaking on his lap. "Harry…" she said, calmly.

Harry shouted at them, not caring if he woke up all of the Gryffindors, insisting that his feats were based on luck instead of actual skill. Rising from his armchair, the bowl smashing into pieces, he continued, accusing them of not realizing that facing Voldemort was not just memorizing spells and being cleverer than an opponent. His voice cracked as he spoke about the night in the graveyard and Cedric, how he could have died if he was not needed by Voldemort.

"Harry, no one was saying Cedric was less of a wizard," said Katrina, backing up an aghast Ron. "Take a breath."

Hermione stepped towards him, timidly. "Harry, don't you see? This…is exactly why we need you…We need to know what it's r—really like…facing him…facing V—Voldemort." Not saying a word, he sat in his armchair. "Well…think about it. Please?"

As she and Ron went up to their rooms, Katrina stayed in the common room. A heavy silence hung in the air, Harry burying his head between his knees.

"I shouldn't have screamed at them," he muttered. "But you agree with me, right? It's mental."

Katrina repaired the bowl, with the murtlap essence intact. "Is it? Hermione went about it a little too strong but we know what's out there. Voldemort could attack the school at any moment and if that happens, we need to be ready. Call Kane unhinged but he'd be prepared for anything. A dark wizard, an army of giants, a sentient dragon…my point is that with Umbridge's lessons, Fudge won't have to worry about Dumbledore creating an army because we'll all be dead. Whatever you decide, I'll support you."

Two weeks passed since Hermione proposed her defense idea, refraining from mentioning it to Harry, at Katrina's request, to prevent another outburst. Finished with his detentions and not actively seeking fights with Umbridge, he was finally in a good place though that was treading on a very loose thread. Against Katrina's wishes, Hermione innocently touched upon the topic while they were in the library researching potions ingredients. Harry agreed, showing slight trepidation at Hermione's encouragement of teaching anyone else willing to learn defense.

Having his approval, they planned to meet at a designated place in Hogsmeade on the first weekend in October. In the days leading up to it, Hermione and Katrina shared the idea with their fellow Gryffindors and a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. It was surprisingly popular, their fifth year dormmates, even a reluctant Lavender, on board, though Hermione suspected that many had motives besides defense lessons. She burst into uncharacteristic giggles when Anthony Goldstein poured pumpkin juice on himself while listening to Katrina's pitch.

Though Harry was no longer being subjected to Umbridge's dark torture methods, it meant that he was free to become Katrina's bodyguard, watching her like a hawk during her sessions with Draco. Unable to make much noise around Madam Pince, he settled for chucking paper balls at the back of his head.

His overprotective routine impeded her progress with Kane's plan but Draco was not fazed, deriving enjoyment from pushing his buttons. Katrina could not figure out how his personality changed so swiftly, not overly opposed to his hopes of friendship until she spotted him taunting Harry or other students. She kept up her act, toeing the line between naïveté and brainlessness by pretending to need his help with assignments and care about his boastful stories.

On the morning of the Hogsmeade trip, she met him in the library, telling Harry she had a meeting with Kane in Dumbledore's office. While she supposedly worked on translating runes, she had disguised a history book as her rune dictionary, reading about events after Voldemort's defeat. An added difficulty to the Cayden mystery was the sparse details on the battle that led to his death. She searched for any hints that could relate to the task force or death eaters evading imprisonment.

"Which one are you having trouble with?"

She looked up from a passage on a battle in an abandoned house in Wiltshire. "I'm not."

"You crinkle your nose when you get annoyed," said Draco, closing his dictionary. "You always do it in Potions when Potter isn't paying attention. It's like a rabbit."

"I like you better when you don't talk," she said, writing under a star-shaped rune.

He smirked. "Oh, so you like me?"

A shrill Pansy was ironically her savior, wrapping her arms around his neck from behind like a python constricting its prey. She whined about needing to line up for Hogsmeade, speaking about Katrina ("It's the weekend. You don't need to be around that charity case") as if she was not in the room. Wrestling out of her grip, joking that he needed to breathe but with a serious face, he left to put back a book in the Ancient Runes section. Pansy glared at Katrina, gripping the wooden chair.

"I know what you're up to," she snarled.

Katrina waved her rune sheet. "Homework."

"Those doe eyes don't fool me, Potter. If you think you're stealing Draco from me, you're wrong." She tossed back her ebony hair. "He's mine. You spent your life in a hovel so let me tell you how the world works. You're an insignificant speck of dirt on the bottom of my shoe. You'd have an easier shot at ending up in St. Mungo's with your loser brother. A boy like Draco will never want a freak like you. Why don't you settle for something on your level like a dirty rat?"

Draco glanced back at her as Pansy dragged him out of the library. Katrina was about to return to her book when she saw her mirror glowing inside her bag.

"Hey tiger," said Jace, cheerfully. "Are you in the library again? You're spending more time in there than you did when you couldn't leave the manor."

"I like the quiet," she said, checking for any sign of the rigid librarian.

He put on his training gloves. "Can't hide away forever. Still having that weird dream?"

After having the dream about the windowless corridor on fire three times in a row, she told Jace about it, wondering if it was more than her imagination. The dream ended in the same spot, the flames nearing Katrina's hand and forming a strange creature.

"Last night," she whispered, as she left the library. "Should I tell Kane?"

"Doesn't sound like anything troubling and last I checked, you weren't a seer but I could ask Elizabeth," he offered. "You said someone tried to get into your head so maybe you're fighting back in your sleep and accessing their memories. Kane's going to be back soon from a crime scene. Fifth robbery this month. I'll let you know if Elizabeth has any insight."

Sending her bag to her room, she set off for the entrance hall where students were queued in front of Filch, who was checking that they were allowed to visit Hogsmeade. A small group of second year boys was driven away by the crotchety caretaker. Scanning the winding line, she found Fay, Sophie, Parvati, and Lavender in the line. At the front, Filch sniffed around Harry's collar before letting him out of the castle.

"Katrina, you have to tell me where you get your clothes," raved Parvati, as Katrina brushed off a quill feather from her white blouse that matched her daisy printed skirt. "They're so much cuter than the ones in the shops here."

Lavender was split between ignoring her and admiring her outfit. "Why do you have to be related to your crazy brother?" Fay smacked her arm with the back of her hand. "Ow! I wasn't—I said he was crazy, not her. I'm only going with you guys because I want to pass my OWLs."

"Hi Katrina," said Roger, walking over to her with Finn. She had invited him to the meeting when she and Hermione were talking to the Ravenclaws. "Are you excited to visit Hogsmeade? I could show you around later. Have you ever had a butterbeer?"

Behind him, Fay and Sophie were making kissy faces at each other. "No." Sophie made a heart with her hands. "I'll have to try it."

One by one, they stepped up to Filch, who matched their name to his list. Eyeing Katrina beadily, he checked off her name. Roger led them to the familiar gates to Hogsmeade, telling her about the various shops. For their meeting, Hermione picked the Hog's Head, a dodgy pub that was not normally frequented by Hogwarts students which lessened their worries of being overheard by someone who could snitch to Umbridge. From the years spent with Kane, Katrina was wary, finding a crowd safer, with everyone distracted by their own conversations, and less suspicious to a stranger. She tried to voice that concern to Harry but he merely teased that she was being as paranoid like Moody.

"We can't go somewhere…nicer?" asked Sophie, observing the battered wooden sign, of a boar's severed head, over the door. "Penelope Clearwater once said that criminals hang around this pub."

"Don't be a baby," said Fay, opening the creaky door.

Dodgy had been an understatement. To Sophie's point, Katrina would not be shocked to find a criminal hiding among the patrons, several hiding under hoods and veils. The pub was covered with centuries of grime and filth, lit by candle stubs on the rough wooden tables. A grumpy man behind the bar conjured a glass filled with a smoking substance for a man whose head was wrapped in dirty gray bandages. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were seated at a table farthest from the bar.

"What's Davies doing here?" he hissed, as Katrina sat beside him.

"He was interested," she replied, smoothing out her skirt.

He took a sip of his butterbeer bottle. "Yeah, interested…" he mumbled.

"Be nice," she pleaded. "You can't treat everyone like an enemy."

When the others arrived, the barman stunned by the number of people, Fred ordered a round of butterbeers. As he handed Katrina a bottle, she gave him two sickles and felt something heavy around her shoulders. Harry had given her his coat, saying she looked cold and maneuvering it to hide her blouse.

"What are you doing?" she asked, shrugging off the coat.

"Gits need to keep their eyes to themselves." He scowled in the direction of Anthony and his friends, who were gazing at the ceiling. "It could get chilly so why don't you wear the coat?"

"Maybe you should because Cho's looking at you," she whispered. "I don't feel comfortable with her ogling you."

Blushing, he took back the coat. An anxious Hermione cleared her throat, all heads turning from Harry to her, and explained the purpose of the meeting.

"Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands." She paused, glancing sideways at Harry. "And by that, I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but the real spells—"

"You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts OWL too though, I bet?" said Michael, earning a kick to the back of his leg from Ginny.

"Of course I do," agreed Hermione. "But I want more than that. I want to be properly trained in defense because…because…because Lord Voldemort's back."

The reaction around the table reminded Katrina of their first lesson with Umbridge. Cho's curly haired friend spilled butterbeer on her outfit, Neville gave an odd yelp, and Sophie and Hannah shuddered in their chairs. To her right, Roger gripped his butterbeer bottle, looking grim.

"Where's the proof You Know Who's back?" asked a blonde boy named Zacharias, quite aggressively.

Katrina remembered him from her talk with the fifth year Hufflepuffs one evening. He showed an interest when she mentioned Harry being part of the group, his eyes constantly lowering past her face not endearing her to him. A few people, like Lavender, seemed to share his view.

"Well, Dumbledore believes it—" began Hermione.

"You mean, Dumbledore believes him," he argued, nodding towards Harry.

"Who are you?" asked Ron, rudely.

"Zacharias Smith," he replied. "And I think we've got the right to know exactly what makes him say You Know Who's back."

"Look," intervened Hermione. "That's really not what this meeting was supposed to be about—"

"It's okay, Hermione," said Harry, barely keeping his calm. He faced Zacharias. "What makes me say You Know Who's back? I saw him. But Dumbledore told the school what happened last year and if you didn't believe him, then you don't believe me and I'm not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone."

No one spoke, the group collectively holding its breath. Zacharias pushed on for details but Harry shut him down, refusing to provide a gruesome account of Cedric's death, Cho, on the verge of tears, grateful for him not giving into Zacharias's demands. Katrina sensed that Harry was seconds from biting off the arrogant Hufflepuff's head.

"I'd say I'm proof enough," she said, now the recipient of curious stares. "The man who kidnapped me was a death eater. He knew Voldemort was back because one of his colleagues told him about that night and he felt emboldened enough to come out of hiding to be closer to him. He would be helping him right now if the aurors didn't catch him. Why would he risk hiding for fifteen years on a hunch?"

Only Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys were aware of her lie, Fred and George flashing her a thumbs up under their Zonko's bags. Possibly prompted by her fictitious example, others pointed out Harry's numerous feats over the years, the conversation shifting from an interrogation. The group was taken aback by Hermione's admission, a theory in their minds, that Umbridge was not teaching them properly out of fear that Dumbledore would mobilize them into an army against the Ministry. Soon enough, they all, Zacharias begrudgingly, agreed to being taught by Harry, though there was a debate over when and where to hold their meetings, to not clash with quidditch practices.

Rummaging through her bag, she pulled out a parchment and quill. "I—I think everybody should write their name down, just so we know who was here." She shared a subtle look with Katrina. "But I also think that we all ought to agree not to shout about what we're doing. So if you sign, you're agreeing not to tell Umbridge—or anybody else—what we're up to."

That eagerness ebbed, some uneasy with signing their names. "I—well, we are prefects," said a hesitant Ernie, who had moments ago advocated for the group's importance. "Roger's Head Boy…and if this list was found…well, I mean to say…you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out…"

"You just said this group was the most important thing you'd do this year," Harry reminded him.

"I—yes," stuttered Ernie. "Yes, I do believe that…it's…"

After a testy assurance from Hermione, Ernie and the rest signed the parchment. The group left the Hog's Head, Cho waving at Harry as her friend ushered her through the door.

"Do you need something?" Harry asked Roger, who was picking up his empty bottle from the table.

"I'm showing Katrina around the village," he said, either oblivious or indifferent to her brother's hostility.

Harry's eye twitched. "That's kind of you," said Hermione, patting his shoulder. "Katrina, would you help me clear the table?"

Collecting the empty butterbeer bottles, they huddled over by the nearest trash bin. "Let's hope no one blabs. That jinx is nasty," Katrina whispered to her. "My money's on Zacharias Smith."

Leaving the Hog's Head, she followed Roger up the dirt path that connected to the village. Harry turned his head whenever he heard Katrina giggle, his desire to hex Roger thwarted by Ron gagging on his butterbeer and flipping out over the news of Ginny dating Michael. As they reached the main street, Ron raging about Michael, she saw Draco outside a boutique with his friends, a miserable Graham holding a dozen bags of clothes. A girl added to his hoard, pecking his cheek before going back into the shop.

"So where to first?" asked Roger. "Honeyduke's has tons of sweets. If you want another butterbeer, we could go to the Three Broomsticks. It's a lot nicer than the Hog's Head, trust me."

Katrina felt a faint vibration against her wrist. Looking around the village, as though she was weighing her options, she noticed something peculiar about the brick wall of the quill shop where Hermione was admiring a display of pheasant-feather quills. Broken leaves glided from the rooftop and as Harry shook them out of his hair, the vibration intensified, like pricks from a hundred needles.

Unaware of her lack of attention, Roger was still talking about the shops. "Or we could go to this tea shop. It's…usually for coup—"

Katrina kicked Harry's back, causing him to stumble into Ron. "What the h—"

A jet of crimson light struck the spot he had just been, singeing the cobblestone. With two swift movements, she shot a stunning spell at the roof and the brick wall. A masked figure, a woman considering their curvy frame and the long hair sticking out from their hood, emerged from the wall, falling face first into the ground, and simultaneously, there was a crash in the alley next to the shop. Katrina flicked her wand to send Harry, Ron, and Hermione into the quill shop, casting a shield charm over the doorway. Blocking a spell from the alley, Roger was blasted back by its power, hitting a bench.

An invisible force squeezed her throat and feeling them fade, a sign they were about to apparate, she jammed her wand under her arm. Crying out in pain, the loss of concentration interfered with their apparition and Katrina fell from the haze in mid-air, landing safely, thanks to a cushioning charm, in a mountainous area by the village. Three masked figures, one of them the woman from the quill shop and all dressed in black, appeared around her, two of their masks resembling lions and one resembling a dragon.

The one sporting a dragon mask had dried blood on his left pant leg. "And here I thought it'd be an easy job," he said, his voice scrambled to sound like a mix of multiple people. "Don't be stupid. It's three against one. You'll come quietly or your brother won't make it out of that shop."

Katrina held her wand tip against the wet grass. "Depulso."

The charm bounced off the confined target, creating an earthquake-like ripple in the ground. All three figures were thrown off their feet and Katrina raced towards the grey smoke in the distance.

She pointed her wand at her throat. "Professor, I need help—"

A jet of ice blue light zoomed past her, freezing a boulder. She created a circular shield around herself, deflecting their spells. Taking a detour in the woods, she watched trees freeze and get blown to pieces. Her shield suddenly disintegrated and a tree that had been struck with a blasting curse split down the middle, one half burnt while the other showed no damage.

Katrina climbed up the nearest tree. "Come out, princess. No shield charm will work out here." The woman walked through the wreckage. "Don't make me hurt that pretty face. He wants you in one piece and whatever he wants, he gets. We don't have to fight."

Holding up her wand, she tried to light her wand tip but it remained unchanged, confirming her ears. She waited for the woman to pass before quietly climbing down to search for another exit.

An arm snaked around her neck, the woman grazing a knife against her cheek. "Nice try, sweetie. Now, we're going to go back to where my magic will work again and then we're—ugh!"

Katrina savagely bit her arm and after disarming her, she slammed her head into a tree trunk, knocking her unconscious. Every few steps, she cast the lighting charm to gauge the scope of whatever had impeded her magic. Her wand lit as she lined up with the partially wrecked tree, the tip hovering over the scattered debris. Seeing bright lights graze the cloudy sky, she headed back to the entrance of the woods. Roger was fighting the other lion-masked figure, his lip bloody and his shirt torn. Overpowering Roger's shield charm, his wand disappearing in the grass, the man cast a jelly-legs jinx.

The dragon-masked man apparated in front of the fallen Roger, pressing his boot into his chest. "Ooh, does that hurt? You might've broken a rib. Go find the girl. We had a short window as it is and you and that hag fucked up. Remember not to get too close to touch."

As the lion-masked man vanished, Katrina cast a disillusionment charm over herself. Roger was knocked out with a sleeping spell.

"I know I have my orders to not hurt family but I really want to bloody you up, pretty boy," the man said, increasing pressure on his chest. "I could call it an accident. You did try to hurt one of my men so an eye for an eye, right? I get it. You wanted to be the hero in her story but guess what? You're nothing but a—"

Katrina shot a wave of golden light, sending the man flying several feet and through a wooden shed. She hurried over to the unconscious Roger. Before she could begin to heal him, she deflected a bright white lightning bolt. A lightning whip swung from the man's wand, repeatedly attempting to strike her. She kept up her shield charm, struggling to get a clean shot, and as her shield fell again, the lightning struck her. Clutching her side, blood seeping through her fingers and her shoulder, she lowered her wand, knowing it was useless.

The man sauntered towards her. "You put up a good fight. I knew you would but here's a tip. If you want to win, you don't fight fair. It's why you'll always lose. You're a gifted witch but without it, you're a weak little girl. If you come with me, I can teach you. Chimaera is the way. Just take my hand, Katrina."

She grabbed his hand with her free, ungloved hand. "Gladly."

Reaching for her, he froze, crumpling to his knees. His wrist began to resemble Andrews's in the interrogation chamber, his skin and part of his neck turning grey. The other masked figures ran out of the woods and feeling a burning sensation, Katrina screamed, a wave of energy emanating from her that toppled her attackers and reduced the first four rows of trees in the woods and surrounding boulders to ash. All three masked figures rapidly apparated, the dragon-masked leader unable to move the right side of his body, leaving her with an unconscious Roger and a hand glowing bright red.

"Katrina!"

Her body trembling, she slid her glove over her burning hand. Draco sped down the rocky path, his eyes widening at the destruction, and kneeled beside her.

"Here, let me—" She recoiled as his hand neared her shoulder. "I know—Katrina, you have to let me help you up."

"I'm fine," she said, sitting up and failing to hide her wincing.

"You're not fine!" There was a definite panic in his a voice. "You're bleeding. Snape's coming. He was telling everyone to get back to the castle and it took awhile because Potter kept trying to sneak off. Did you see who attacked you? Where are they?"

He held out his wand. "They apparated after Roger showed up but one of them hit him with a sleeping spell."

"It wasn't who you think," he said, sounding like he wanted to convince himself more than her. "They don't wear masks like that ever. I swear they wouldn't come after you, not with Dumbledore around. That'd be suicidal. It'll be okay. Madam Pomfrey can fix anyone. Katrina? You need to stay awake. Look at me."

The last thing she heard was Draco shouting her name. Her dream about the corridor returned but this time, it was different. As the flames swirled around her and the creature formed, she saw that it consisted of a lion's head, a dragon's tail, and the body of a goat. A hand seized her blouse through the flames, creating the burning sensation she felt when grabbing her attacker. The corridor was replaced with the Hogwarts grounds, the castle ablaze and her friends in a pile of corpses. Snape appeared behind her, fading in and out like a flickering candle.

Breathing heavily, her eyes popped open. Snape was sitting in a chair beside her bed, rubbing his temple. She looked wildly around the white interior of the hospital wing, seeing scorch marks on the wall opposite her bed and the bed frames twisted like pretzels.

"It was a dream," he assured her. "You're in the hospital wing. The magic you absorbed was taken out and Mister Davies was patched up. His injuries were mild but he's to report to Madam Pomfrey in the morning to check that his ribs are healed. Professor Dumbledore has ordered the wing to be closed for the night to ensure a full recovery for you. He's speaking with Carlisle in his office."

"I saw—it felt real," She pointed at the wall. "Did I do that?"

"When we're asleep, our magic can sometimes let loose. It's a simple repair," he said, handing her a glass of water. "It was a dream, Katrina. Your mind is powerful, even when you're resting. Carlisle's taught you well."

"No, it's not the first time I've dreamt that." Her eyes brimmed with tears. "It's never ended that way. I felt this burning inside me, like this giant fire that wants to be fed. It happened when I grabbed that man's wrist. I thought I was in control."

"And you are." He waved his wand, repairing the wall and bed frames. "Your powers are growing, yes, but you're not a danger. We all slip up, no matter how old we get, and what matters is whether we give up or keep going. You're perfectly safe at Hogwarts."

When Kane and Dumbledore entered the hospital wing, a shaken Katrina recounted the attack from beginning to end. None of the men were certain how her magic was impeded at random moments but what the dragon-masked man said to Roger essentially confirmed Cayden's role in the attack.

"How he is alive is a mystery for another day," Dumbledore told a silent Kane. "Katrina, did this ringleader say anything else that may have stuck out to you?"

"He said…Chimaera is the way," she said, rubbing her shoulder. "In my dream, I think I saw one so maybe he was trying to reach out to me."

"Perhaps. He'd rather pry the information from you than me or the task force," suggested Kane. "Get dressed and we'll search the area."

"Are you incapable of your own investigating?" asked Snape, preventing her from leaving the bed. "She needs her rest, Carlisle. She could've died out there. For all you know, they could return to the grounds."

Kane took out his wand. "I don't need your input on how to conduct my business, Snape. Katrina handled herself far better than any of your students could've in that situation. Her siphon ability could help us track the source of their trick. Stand aside." Snape glared at him. "If I have to ask him again, Albus, you'll be down a professor. It was already hard enough to find a Defense one, wasn't it?"

"I'd appreciate if you left him intact, Kane, and as useful as Katrina would be, she does need her rest," advised Dumbledore. "Let us not needlessly fight. We cannot defeat our enemies if we are not united and I'd dread having to inform Minerva why you are in one of these beds. Severus and I will accompany you on your search and if Katrina is needed to solve this puzzle, I will certainly admit that I was in the wrong."

If anyone could stand up to Kane, it was Dumbledore. Backing away from Snape, he left the hospital wing. Dumbledore conjured a plate of freshly made lemon bars onto her nightstand and he and a distrustful Snape followed after Kane to aid in the investigation. As she picked up a lemon bar, she was distracted by a scratching sound. A message was etched into the nightstand: I'm coming for you.