Hey all! Here's a long long chapter! Hope you like it! Side note: If you love HP and you love musicals, Youtube "A Very Potter Musical." I watched it a few weeks ago and I'm OBSESSED.

Disclaimer: Unnecessary.

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Chapter 9:

I slept fitfully, waking the next morning in nothing less than a pissy mood. I stormed down to the kitchen where Molly—Mrs. Weasley, I mean—was already making breakfast. She picked up on my mood right away, but apparently chose to ignore it.

"Good morning," she said, a little too much cheer in her voice.

Still half asleep, I had to force out a "hello." Normally I would have merely grunted in response.

"Hungry?" She asked, not waiting for a response as she laid down a plate of eggs, bacon and toast.

I managed a "thank you" with little effort. Cooking was something I'd always loved about her.

"You know, Harry thinks you're a great cook," I almost said. Instead, I said "You're a really good cook."

"Thank you dear," she said warmly, already making another plate. "It's fortunate you woke up so early. Your uncle will be stopping in soon to drop off your potion."

Yippee.

I gulped down a glass of orange juice as Fred and George walked in the room. Their mom set plates in front of both of them, ruffling their hair affectionately.

"Morning Kat," they said in unison.

I nodded at them as I finished my plate, pleasantly stuffed.

"Would you like another plate, dear?"

"Good lord no," I said, tapping my stomach delicately. "I already feel like I'm eating as much as Ron."

The twins snickered.

"That would be truly tragic," a low voice said from behind me.

My smile melted as the twins' laughter died abruptly and I turned to face Snape.

"Morning," he said.

I raised an eyebrow, not in the mood to be cordial.

He held a box in his hand, tied neatly in twine. "I have what we spoke of last night," he said before walking out of the room.

I followed him to the stairway where he untied the box and lifted out a delicate looking vial of neon blue liquid. Darker bubbles of blue floated up to the top in their unrest, and I wondered with a bleak shiver how bad it would taste.

"Will sugar mess it up?" I asked, frowning at the bottle.

Snape raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know it conflicts with wolfsbane, but does it conflict with any ingredients in this?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Luckily for you, this," he said, tapping the vial, "is tasteless. Just squirt a drop into your evening tea, and drink it right before you go to bed."

I nodded, hoping that this wouldn't be another case of "don't worry, this cough syrup is cherry flavored so it tastes good."

"How did you know about the sugar?"

"The seer thing," I said, irritable that he'd brought it up.

"Well, you may be able to count on a few things from your visions. That was a correct assumption you made. Sugar will conflict with the ingredients in your potion. But seeing as your visions seem to come from Potter's thoughts, do not rely on them in the academic arena."

"Thanks," I muttered, tempted to bring up his old textbook.

"I brought you this," he said, holding out a large leather bound black book. "You have another month. I recommend going over the material if you don't wish to stay in a room full of prepubescent idiots."

I opened the pages; it seemed like an encyclopedia of ingredients, their uses, and common potions that they were found in. Halfway through the book though, there were potion-making instructions. Of course, Snape's handwriting filled up the margins, but it wasn't his potions textbook.

"Cool," I breathed, forgetting my anger momentarily.

He nodded once in approval, then turned to leave.

"Thanks," I called out as he left.

Pausing, Snape must have sensed the sincerity in my voice. Then he apparated off, and I sank into the nearest armchair, engulfed in my newest book.

"Hello Kat," Sirius said a few hours later.

"Hey Sirius," I muttered, unable to tear my eyes from the article on bezoars I was reading.

"I've been meaning to talk with you for a while. Do you have a few minutes?"

That grabbed my attention.

I looked up at his face, which was oddly apprehensive, and folded the corner of the page I was on before shutting the book and sitting up.

But it seemed as though we wouldn't be talking there, because Sirius gestured for me to follow him as he began to climb the stairs. I said nothing further, traipsing after him until we reached the top floor of his house, walking silently down the hallways until we got to Buckbeak's room.

I couldn't help but be in awe of the creature, even though I'd spent a fair few hours in here with her myself.

"Sorry for the journey," he said, "But there are many who would not want us to have this conversation, and this is the most private place I know of."

I nodded, shifting the book under one arm as I leaned against the wall. "No worries."

"Have you had any more visions?" he asked.

I shook my head, realizing that I should have expected this from Sirius.

"Were you serious about how much you know?"

"Yes," I said, ignoring the voice in my head that said, "No, you're Sirius."

His eyes widened slightly and he swallowed. "Do you, do you know how the war ends?"

I hesitated. "Dumbledore was right," I muttered. "My, um, vision, of how things happen has to be majorly compensated for. Me being here could change everything."

"I know. I understand. But what if you can still help?"

"I want to help," I said, determined.

He smiled. "I think I know just from your actions how you've seen the war end."

I bit my cheek. "That could change."

"Do you really believe that?"

Again, I hesitated. "No," I said finally, my gut instinct.

"Then go with what feels right," he said. "Your dad was a Gryffindor, a house full of people that knew what was right and weren't afraid to stand up for it!"

"Like Peter Pettigrew?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

Sirius fell silent. "There are, of course, exceptions to everything."

"I'm sorry," I started, "I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he said, a small smile on his lips. "Just a bit of a sore spot. I still believe that you know what to do, regardless of Dumbledore's worries."

"You think that he's wrong?"

"I think that your grandfather is a brilliant wizard who rarely makes mistakes. But everyone goes about their lives differently, and Dumbledore is…different."

I smiled then.

"I'm not telling you to explain what you see to everyone, but if you see things falling into place like you've predicted and they aren't good, you should do what you think is right. You're of age, after all. You can make your own decisions."

I smirked with laughter at his last words, nodding. "I'll take your advice to heart."

Almost on cue, Kreacher pushed into the room, glaring at Sirius. "The mudblood lover told Kreacher to let you know lunch is served." Sirius nodded at him, grimacing at the small creature slightly. "And Kreacher hates her, he does. Waltzing around the mistress' kitchen. Kreacher wishes she would go back to the hovel she lives in, he does."

"Kreacher, shut up!" Sirius shouted, kicking the small elf.

I closed my eyes as Sirius shut the door. "Hungry?" he asked, his mood completely different.

"I'm willing to take your advice. But it involves taking mine. Can you do that?"

Sirius nodded quickly.

I crossed my arms. "Call Kreacher back here."

Frowning slightly, he did as I ask. The elf was glaring once more, standing between myself and Sirius.

"Apologize to Kreacher."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Did Hermione get to you with her S.P.E.W. club?"

"No. Please, please trust me."

He looked into my eyes once more before sighing. "Kreacher," he started, his voice pained.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed to him, trying to keep from smiling.

"I'm—I'm sorry."

Kreacher looked completely confused, to say the least, but wisely said nothing.

"Now order him to never ever tell anyone outside of the Order of the Phoenix anything that he sees, hears, or observes in this house. In that exact wording."

Sirius did. Word for word. Then he ordered Kreacher to leave.

"What exactly, was that for?" he asked, irritability invading his words.

I smiled apologetically. "You really don't want to know. But At least I'm taking your advice, right?"

He nodded slightly.

"Also," I added as we walked down the stairs to lunch, "This is going to sound obnoxiously cryptic, but you'll get the urge to leave this house near the end of the year, more so than you do now. Don't leave, under any circumstances."

"I'll try."

"For Harry?"

"Ok."

**

Later on, I was cleaning with the trio, pressing Hermione for information on basic charms and transfiguration.

"And make sure you're saying it right," she said, as I held my wand up. "Swish and flick. Very good. Remember, it's levi-oh-sa not levio-sah."

Stifling a smile, I did as she told me, and the feather on the floor began to quiver and lift from its perch, almost as if a wind had blown it upwards.

They clapped as I grinned, losing my concentration as the feather fell back down.

"That was perfect!" she gushed.

"Well, you're a great teacher," I said, beaming.

"Oh dear!" she said, nearly dropping the pixie droppings she'd been clearing from the corner. "That reminds me! Our letters should be coming today!"

Ron grimaced as Harry chuckled, and Hermione flew downstairs.

"Better go catch her before she faints with excitement," Ron muttered. "Prefect badges this year," he explained to me.

It felt like a lightbulb had gone off in my head, and I almost cursed myself for not having memorized the books word for word… even if they were made up in my head.

I grabbed Harry's wrist as he left the room and he turned, confused.

In that moment I had to make a decision; was I going to purposely defy Dumbledore and his wishes just to soothe Harry's ego?

Hell yes. It wasn't as if the old man hadn't been wrong before.

"You know," I started, biting my lip nervously. "Being a prefect isn't too big a deal."

Harry grinned. "I know. It's just that Hermione's been obsessed with it all summer. I swear she's gone mental."

I smiled slightly, and chose my words carefully. "Who do you think the Gryffindor male prefect will be?"

He paused. "Er, I hadn't really thought about it. Guess it could be anyone." And with more spring in his step than before, he made to leave the room.

Fearing I'd only made things worse, I grabbed his wrist again. "Harry, you won't get it. You won't be a prefect."

"I didn't say I was. It's not like I expect special treatment just cause of my scar," he said, angry. His cheeks actually flushed a little.

I put my hands up. "Didn't say you did," I said, strangely relieved.

I could hear Hermione's shrieking a few minutes later, and Ron's shocked swearing only moments after that. Harry said nothing save for a meek "congratulations" that I barely heard from the top of the staircase. I decided to go down and congratulate them.

There it was, from Harry, the odd, suspicious look he threw at me as Mrs. Weasley congratulated the two new prefects. The twins began their teasing a few minutes later, and we all headed upstairs once more to commence cleaning before the impromptu party/dinner.

"Did Dumbledore tell you?" Harry asked before he entered the room. Ron and Hermione were still talking excitedly about their new badges.

I snorted. "Are you kidding me? That man talks to me less than he's been talking to you lately, and that's saying something."

"Then how did you know about the prefect thing?" he demanded.

"Dumbledore's predictable," I lied.

He watched me for a few more minutes before nodding, half-satisfied with my explanation as he decided to let it go.

**

The next time there was an order meeting, I was not allowed to be a part of it. It was after Harry's birthday but before the trial he seemed so nervous about. I didn't bother to tell him that it would be fine, that he needn't worry; he'd be fine.

I did however, worry about my mom, still having heard nothing from Snape. I took that stupid potion every night, and soon my dreams (which had nothing to do with visions in the first place) became blurry and pointless, people becoming shapes, shapes becoming fuzzy colorful clouds. It was ridiculous, and I began to feel disoriented and drowsy when I woke up in the mornings.

"That's a normal symptom," Snape said when I'd asked him about it after the order meeting.

I nodded doubtfully as Dumbledore walked out of the room, Sirius following close behind. He winked at me and I grinned, ignoring the suspicious glance Snape threw my way.

Dumbledore smiled serenely at me. "And how have you been these past few weeks, Katarina?"

"Fine," I said, waving away his question. "Have you found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher yet?"

He paused. I'd been waiting for weeks since my conversation with Sirius; I refused to have my first year at Hogwarts tainted by such a terrible teacher, especially since I didn't know how many years I would even be spending there.

"No, I have not. The position is still open. Katarina, how do you know about this?"

I raised an eyebrow and he nodded in understanding.

"Ah yes. Your gift. Have you been taking your potion?"

"Yeah, I am. This is from before. If you don't appoint someone soon, the ministry will."

"I am well aware of that fact," he said, his voice becoming stern. "Unfortunately, there are few willing to enter the post given the past few teachers' reasons for leaving."

I spotted Lupin and Mad-Eye talking in a corner. Oh yeah. That.

"Have you thought about Horace Slughorn?"

That caught his attention. Snape raised his eyebrows as I crossed my arms.

"Horace is a potions master, as I'm sure you are well aware. That is not the post we need filled."

"Duh," I said quickly. "What if Slughorn taught potions and you finally let Snape teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

Dumbledore hesitated, and I noticed Snape bristle slightly. Shifting uncomfortably myself, I knew that the post was cursed, and no matter how much I disliked Snape, a small part of me admitted to some attachment to him. I figured he could just move back to potions next year; that could be his way of leaving the post open, or at least that's what I told myself, because I would not let him die. In fact, if all went well, Voldemort would be gone by the end of this year.

"I'm not sure that would be the best plan—"

"You trust him, don't you?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"I do. However—"

"If you trust him, you should give him the position. I trust him."

Snape stayed silent as Dumbledore's face turned from serious to amused. "I will take your suggestion into consideration," he said, "However at the moment I need a word with your uncle. Alone."

I threw my arms in the air. "I get it. Just know that if you don't find someone for the job, the ministry will appoint an obnoxious, evil, ugly hag." I walked away, not expecting either of the two men to answer me.

They did not disappoint.

I eventually sat down next to Ginny, petting Crookshanks and pestering her about Quidditch. We went upstairs after dinner to find the twins muttering to each other in their room.

"Oy," Ginny said, pushing the door open, "What are you two going on about?"

"Top secret," George said, grinning at us both.

"Let them stay," Fred said, watching me.

I smiled at him and entered the room, spying the ton tongue toffees. My smile widened.

"Have you ever heard of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes?"

Yes.

"No," I said, letting them describe their plans to me as Ginny took Crookshanks from my arms and waited patiently.

"So what do you think?" they asked ten minutes later, both grinning ear to ear.

"I think it sounds freaking awesome!" I said. "What about, like, a book version of your trick wands?"

"What do you mean?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Well, you could slip them into the library, and when they opened up a fist would come out and punch you. Definitely more amusing than studying."

The twins exchanged a look.

"Fred, how do you feel about a new business partner?" George asked his brother seriously.

"Well George, I feel pretty good about that. Any more ideas in that beautiful head of yours, Kat?"

**

The end of the summer came quickly, mostly due to the fact that I finally had something to do; I spent the mornings reading my textbooks (especially the one that Snape gave me), and going over spells and charms with Hermione. After lunch we all cleaned up the house until dinner. Then the twins, Ginny, and I convened in their room to brainstorm. I learned a lot of new spells from them, though they were generally useless unless you wanted to cause major havoc. I would go to bed after reviewing what I'd read in the mornings, reciting herbs, dates of the goblin rebellions, and incantations as I drifted off to sleep.

It almost felt good, my new life, save for the pain and loss. It still felt like yesterday when I'd talked to Voldemort face to face, and even though the potion messed up my dreams, I'd often wake up in the middle of the night with his laughter ringing in my head, thinking his red eyes were staring at me from the shadows in the corners of my room.

And my mom. My mom was still missing. I hated to think about what she might be going through, and I regretted every time I'd yelled at her or argued with her rules. When I was alone I wondered what she'd been like before, if her voice was different, what her goals and dreams were…

Harry's trial came and went, and finally it was time to go to Hogwarts. Harry and Ron ran around that morning during breakfast trying to track down the possessions that had somehow scattered all over the house. Hermione rolled her eyes more than once, muttering something that sounded like "boys" as Ron tripped over his own trunk on the way downstairs.

It rained all morning, and I was soaking wet by the time we got to the station. I was almost giddy with excitement as I ran through platform 9 ¾. Fred teased me, his voice almost flirtatious, but eventually invited me to sit with him and George on the train.

"Yeah, sure," I said, blushing slightly.

"And who is this, Potter?"

I froze as I almost recognized a sneering voice. It was the same as Lucius', save for the pitch. I nearly laughed at the small difference, turning to face none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Shove off, Malfoy," Ron said, glaring.

"Why don't you go find some better robes, Weasley?" Draco sneered, "maybe there are some in that trash can over there."

I rolled my eyes as he smiled at me. "Name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Katarina Dumbledore," I supplied at his questioning glance. His smile turned into a grimace as I took his hand and shook it.

"You're a—a Dumbledore?" he sputtered. "And an American?"

"Well, you're a ferret, and a Malfoy," I said sweetly, "But I'm not holding any of that against you."

Ron and Harry were doubled over with laughter as Malfoy turned a delicate shade of pink.

"Draco," A more familiar voice called. I straightened slightly as Ron and Harry stopped laughing, instead staring up at the older and more dangerous Malfoy. His cold grey eyes gave me a thorough once over that I swear, only Fred noticed, and smirked at me.

"Katarina, how pleasant it is to see you again," he said, nodding his head.

"And here I was, wishing I would get struck by lightning before having to talk to you again," I said.

"Kat!" Lupin said, walking up to us as though he sensed the tension from off where the adults stood, some of them already gone.

Lucius' smile widened. "Remus, how pleasant it is to see you," he said, his tone implying the opposite.

"Lucius," he said calmly.

"Isn't it a bit of a precarious time for you to be out though?" Lucius said in mock concern as his eyes flitted up to the sky.

Lupin bristled slightly, knowing he was referring to the full moon that night.

"Fuck off," I said to him, my eyes narrowed slightly as I gripped my wand.

Lucius smiled as his gaze flickered back in my direction. "My my, I see your vocabulary has remained as colorful as it was the last time we spoke."

Lupin opened his mouth, but the train whistled loudly, apparently cueing the end of the conversation.

"Well, it seems as though it's time for you all to go," Lupin said lightly, ushering us toward the train.

Lucius waved once. "I look forward to speaking with you again," he said.

"Yeah," I said, forcing out my own mocking smile, "Maybe next time you'll wear short sleeves so we can all see those lovely tattoos you have!" I said loudly. Hermione's eyes went wide as Lupin let a whoosh of air out of his mouth. Lucius' eyes flashed as he left the platform, Draco already lost in the crowd.

"Do not push him!" Lupin chastised as I stood on the stairs to the train, the others already in their respective compartments, waving goodbye to the Weasleys and the scruffy black dog that had insisted on joining us. "He's dangerous!"

"It's time someone stood up to him!" I protested. "That arrogant prick is strutting around like he owns the entire wizarding world!"

"His day will come," he said more quietly. "Until then, please try to not draw attention to yourself."

I nodded, surprised when he gave me a small hug and slipped a letter into the palm of my hand. "Don't open it until you're at Hogwarts," he muttered into my ear. Again, I nodded, and he smiled at me. "Stay safe!"

Waving meekly at him, I stepped fully into the train and found the twins. They introduced me to their best friend, Lee, who I immediately liked. Throughout the day I kept meeting more people, and my head was spinning by the time we made it to Hogsmeade station.

I'd been dwelling on the folded up letter in my pocket from Lupin, my second confrontation with Lucius Malfoy, and what might happen once I got to Hogwarts. The worst part of it was that I hadn't seen Horace Slughorn once during the trip. The pit in my stomach grew and grew until I stepped into the Great Hall.

I noticed four things immediately: the breathtaking ceiling that resembled the sky, the floating candles that added to the already mystical atmosphere, the grandiose quality to everything around from the tables to the walls to the air, and the ugly shade of pink that Delores Umbridge insisted on wearing.

I groaned. This was going to be a great year.

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