REVISED 1/8/13.
This couldn't to be a coincidence. Of course, Black most likely attended Hogwarts but was he connected to this map held in both her and Harry's hands? He told her his name was Padfoot. How many people could come up with such an odd nickname?
Sirius Black was one of the creators of the Marauder's Map.
Nothing could make her doubt that. And her eyes curiously gazed along the map as the gears in her mind started churning.
There was no way this map could be dangerous. Fred and George said they found it in Filch's office in their first year. Black was still in Azkaban at the time. This means Black must've created it with his friends during his years at Hogwarts.
Kirsten glanced at Harry to see him looking at her with a grin on his face. He handed her the map.
"You want to check it out?"
"It's worth a shot," she replied, deciding to tell him about it later. There was no way she could keep this from him any longer. Not when the man could possibly be after Harry.
Kirsten rolled up the map and tucked it into the sleeve of her sweater and they left the room together. Harry opened the door cautiously and checked to see if there was anyone outside. Carefully, they both edged out of the room and squeezed behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. Kirsten pulled out the map once again to see what they had to do in order to open the passageway.
Her grey eyes scanned the paper to see where they were at and her eyes widened at the name scrawled beside Harry's. Before Harry could even read anything on the map, Kirsten muttered, "Mischief Managed!"
She pulled out her wand and tapped the statue, whispering, "Dissendium!"
The young witch didn't notice when Harry pulled her through the passageway. Her mind was reeling at this point.
What the hell was going on?
There was no way…that name couldn't be right. But the map labeled everyone else with their proper names. Her mind was reeling.
This explained why nobody would tell her what her parents' names were. A certain scene played back in her mind. Mr. Weasley did tell her Black was close to her mother.
"Kirsten?"
Her name brought her from her thoughts and her grey eyes connected with green ones. She realized Harry's wand was lighting the way as they traveled through the tunnel. Oh Harry. She was definitely going to tell him. But not while they were in the tunnel.
"Are you okay?"
She mustered a smile in his direction and nudged her shoulder against his. "Of course."
Kirsten knew Harry didn't believe her as his eyes watched her with concern. He knew when she was keeping something from him.
As they went further down the tunnel, they stopped when they spotted a trapdoor. Kirsten entered first and slowly crept through a wooden staircase that lead upstairs into Honeydukes. A tinkling of a bell sounded and chattering voices filled her ears. The sound of footsteps reached her ears and Kirsten was tugged in the other direction by Harry. Kirsten shifted in a position where she could see a man shuffling through boxes in the opposite direction. She wrapped a hand around Harry's arm and darted across the room as quietly as possible. They rushed up the stairs and opened the door.
Kirsten's eyes widened in amazement as she took in her vibrant surroundings. Students milled through the stocked shelves. The shelves contained dozens of various selections of candy from Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans to Liquorice Wands. However, she could not shake off the image of her name on the Marauder's Map and who one of the creators could be. Somebody honestly had to be messing around with her. There was no way…. Her mind wandered aimlessly as she let Harry guide her through the rows of stocked shelves.
"Ugh, no. Harry and Kia won't want one of those, they're for vampires," Kirsten could hear Hermione's voice. Her grey eyes searched for the bushy haired witch, and she saw Ron and Hermione standing next to one another.
"You know Kia eats anything anyway. How about these?" Ron suggested, holding a jar. Kirsten took a closer look at the jar in the redhead's hand labeled Cockroach Clusters.
"Definitely not," Harry said from beside Kirsten.
"If you bought those I'd force feed them to you," the black haired witch said, causing Ron nearly dropped the jar.
"Harry! Kia!" Hermione squealed. "What are you doing here? How—how did you—?"
"Wow!" Ron said, looking impressed, "you guys learned to Apparate!"
"Not really, Ron," Kirsten replied. Her eyes cast over to Harry as if to say explain. And the bespectacled boy did just that. His voice was low while he told Hermione and Ron, and Kirsten's eyes traveled all along the row. Her awareness heightened as she realized what could possibly happen if Sirius Black really did help create the map. He knows how to get in and out of Hogwarts. He knows this passageway.
"How come Fred and George never gave it to me?" Ron said outraged. "I'm there brother!"
"But Harry and Kia aren't going to keep it!" Hermione said, as though the idea was ludicrous. "They're going to hand it in, aren't you?"
"No were not," Harry replied defiantly. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she looked over at Kirsten, who wasn't paying the slightest attention to the conversation. The black haired witch's brow furrowed, trying to piece the words of the conversation together, much like she would do with Madam DuPont.
"It's not only yours, Harry, it's also Kia's," Hermione said matter-of-factly. All three pairs of eyes looked at Kirsten. The look Hermione sent her way was one expecting her to side with her roommate, while Ron and Harry were expecting her to be on their side. With everything going on in her head, she shook her head trying to rid herself of thoughts of Sirius Black for the moment. She needed to concentrate on the present and she needed to tell them what she had found out.
"Well, Kia?"
Kirsten shrugged her shoulders in an indifferent manner.
"I just don't want to have another detention with Snape or Filch," she said. Hermione sighed at her response, and then looked at the both of them.
"I think you should turn it in though," Hermione repeated.
"Are you mad?" Ron replied. His eyes bugged out slightly in the intelligent witch's direction. "Hand in something that good?"
"If we hand it in, Harry and me are going have to say where we got it, Hermione. Filch would find out Fred and George took it," Kirsten finally spoke up. "But if I weren't part of it, I'd totally be on your side."
"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of those passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know!"
That stopped Kirsten from speaking any more. Hermione was right. More than right. It's a huge percentage that the man knows the way.
"He can't be getting in through a passage," Harry said quickly. "There are seven secret tunnels on the map, right? Fred and George reckon Filch already knows about four of them. And of the other three—one of them's caved in, so no one can get through it. One of them's got the Whomping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can't get out of it. And the one me and Ki just came through—well—it's really hard to see the entrance to it down in the cellar, so unless he knew it was there…" Harry trailed off.
Before Kirsten could say something, Ron cleared his throat in a significant manner and pointed to a notice pasted on the inside of the sweetshop door. It was a notice that dementors were going to be free 'protecting' the streets of Hogsmeade during the evening. Kirsten rolled her eyes at the sign. The dementors couldn't even contain him in a secured cell.
"See?" Ron said quietly. "I'd like to see Black try and break into Honeydukes with dementors swarming all over the village. Anyway, Hermione, the Honeydukes owners would hear a break-in, wouldn't they? They live over the shop!"
"Yes, but—but—" Hermione seemed to be struggling to find another problem. "Look, Harry still shouldn't be coming into Hogsmeade; he doesn't have a signed form. If anyone finds out he'll be in trouble. And so will Kia! And it's not nightfall yet—what if Sirius Black turns up today? Now?"
"He'd have a job spotting Harry and Kia in this," Ron said, nodding his head through the mullioned windows at the thick, swirling snow. "Come on, Hermione, its Christmas. They deserve a break."
Hermione bit her lip, looking extremely worried. And she had every right to be. Kirsten wondered how they were going to take it when she told them. The sooner, the better.
"Are you going to report us?" Kirsten asked Hermione with a small grin.
"Oh—of course not—but honestly, Kia, can't you d—"
"Seen the Fizzing Whizbees, Harry?" Ron said, cutting Hermione off and grabbing Harry. Hermione sighed and looked at the witch next to her, giving her a small smile.
"I'm actually glad you showed up," Hermione told her honestly. "I really can't stand to be with Ron most of the time."
"That bad?" Kirsten asked, a smirk forming on her lips. "And I'd think you like to be alone with him," she joked. She saw Hermione roll her eyes. A couple of minutes passed between the two friends, when Hermione eyed her strangely.
"Are you feeling well?"
Kirsten should have known her fellow Gryffindor would ask her this. She didn't miss the quizzical glance the Hermione threw in her direction, while the four Gryffindors were talking earlier.
"There's something I have to tell you three when I get the chance," she whispered, and was pleased when Hermione didn't question what it was. As soon as Ron and Hermione paid for their sweets, the four friends left the store and carried through the onslaught of the blizzard outside.
The frosty wind nipped at Kirsten's face. Her hair followed the pattern of the wind as she pushed through the gathering snow. And that was the moment Kirsten realized something. She wasn't cold. Sure, she could feel the cold. She could feel how freezing the wind whipped around her body. Yet, the cold didn't seem to affect her. Instead, it was as if she could feel the heat radiating off her body into the surrounding area near her. How odd…
Kirsten followed the outline of Ron's figure into what looked to be a tiny inn that he mentioned was called the Three Broomsticks. The warmth hit her face as soon as she stepped inside. Her eyes traveled across the crowded space, and she spotted a woman with a pretty face, serving a bunch of rowdy warlocks up at the bar.
"That's Madam Rosmerta," Ron said. Kirsten didn't miss the red that tinged his already pink face. "I'll get the drinks, shall I?"
Kirsten grinned at Ron, giving him a knowing look and then winked at him. Hermione scoffed and Kirsten held her hands up in her defense. The bushy haired witch rolled her eyes and led the way to a small, vacant table between a window and a beautiful Christmas tree. As they waited for Ron, Kirsten's attention wandered throughout the inn. Faces lit with enthusiasm and joy was expressed on numerous faces of the witches and wizards occupying the inn. Kirsten found herself wishing to have a life like theirs. Carefree. Possibly with a loving family….
"Merry Christmas!"
Ron's voice brought her back from her thoughts and she looked to see her friends staring at her. She smiled at the redhead, seated next to Harry. Bringing the foaming mug to her lips, Kirsten was pleasantly surprised by the delicious drink.
"Kia, you said something back in Honeydukes," Hermione said, after the group of four sipped their butterbeers. Three pairs of eyes settled on her. Might as well.
"What if I said that the Ministry has been hiding who I really am?" Kirsten said, watching her friends' faces. Ron looked puzzled with her question while Hermione narrowed her eyes in thought. Her grey eyes connected with confused green ones. "I'm an orphan. Never knew my parents. Then I find out that I'm a witch. The minister looked at me like I was a ghost. Nobody would tell me anything about my parents. And when somebody did, they said my mother was connected with Sirius Black," she let out a frustrated sigh, and buried her hand through the tangled mess of her hair. Her eyes wandered toward the window.
"What are you trying to say?" Hermione asked.
There was no way she could look at them and admit something like this, so she kept her eyes trained out at the whirl of snow outside.
"The map," she breathed out. "It showed my real surname."
She heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath, and cautiously looked at the girl next to her. And with just looking at her, Kirsten knew that Hermione caught on.
"I mean, I'm thinking he's my uncle or something, you know?" she said hurriedly. "There's no way he could be my father. I mean, come on. If he was my dad, then someone should at least have the decency to tell me."
Grey eyes flew towards the two boys, who looked on with confusion. They had absolutely no clue what was going on.
"What the bloody hell –"
A sudden breeze entered the inn, and Kirsten's eyes looked past Harry. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she saw Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and the Minister of Magic.
Pressure from Hermione's hand forced the black haired witch underneath the table, causing her to slam her head against the edge of the table. Her hands flew up to her head in pain.
"Fu –"
Before Kirsten could yell the foul word, Hermione's hand covered her mouth. It wasn't long before Harry joined her next to Ron and Hermione's legs, rubbing his head as well. The two Gryffindors locked eyes with a similar look of worry. If they got caught, they would surely be in trouble. Kirsten knew that she would be beyond detention if she got caught.
"Mobiliarbus!" Hermione whispered. From underneath the table, Kirsten saw the Christmas tree beside rise a few inches off the ground. It drifted sideways and landed with a soft thump right in front of group of Gryffindors' table, cleverly hiding them from view. Thank you, Hermione.
The professors and the minister ordered their drinks, and the woman, Rosmerta, brought them over in mere minutes.
"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," Fudge said. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us…."
"Well, thank you very much Minister."
The glittery turquoise heels, belonging to Rosmerta, marched away and came back a moment later.
"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister?" Madam Rosmerta's voice asked. Kirsten could see the lower part of Fudge's thick body twist around, most likely checking for eavesdroppers.
"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?" Fudge said in a quiet voice. Kirsten stared at the man's lower body with wide eyes. Was she this lucky that this group of witches and wizards would talk about something so confidential in public?
"I did hear a rumor," Madam Rosmerta admitted.
"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" Professor McGonagall said exasperatedly.
"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.
"I'm sure of it," Fudge answered shortly.
"You know that the dementors have searched this whole village twice?" Rosmerta said a slight edge to her voice. "Scared all my customers away….It's very bad for business, Minister."
"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them any more than you do," Fudge said uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution…unfortunate, but there you are….I've just met some of them. They're in a fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."
Necessary precaution my ass.
"I should think not," Professor McGonagall said sharply. "How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around?"
"Hear, hear!" Professor Flitwick squeaked.
"All the same," Fudge said, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse….We all know what Black's capable of…."
"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," Madam Rosmerta said. Kirsten watched the heeled woman's feet with interest as she spoke. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I'd have said you'd had too much mead."
"You don't know half of it, Rosmerta," Fudge said gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known." Kirsten's eyes narrowed in the direction of the portly man.
"The worst?" Rosmerta asked her voice filled with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"
"I certainly do," Fudge said.
"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"
"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," Professor McGonagall murmured. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"
"Naturally," Madam Rosmerta said with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you? The number of times I had them here—ooh, they used to make me laugh. Quite the double act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"
Kirsten's mouth dropped open in complete shock, and she heard a loud clunk next to her. Kirsten's eyes traveled to the boy next to her with a look of surprise on his face.
"Precisely," Professor McGonagall said. "Black and Potter. Ringleaders of their little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of troublemakers."
"I dunno," Hagrid said, chuckling. "Fred and George Weasley could give 'em fer their money."
"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" Flitwick chimed in. "Inseparable!"
Kirsten couldn't believe the words coming from their mouths. How in the hell were they best friends?
"Of course they were," Fudge said. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married Lily. Then they named him godfather to Harry. Harry has no idea, of course. You can imagine how the idea would torment him."
The black haired witch didn't know whether she should laugh at the irony of it all and, instead, only settled with a small grin on her face. This was ridiculous. By glancing at the bespectacled boy next to her, she didn't know whether he would strangle her to death or not if she did. But she couldn't believe that he was Harry's godfather and she vaguely wondered if they would bring up her relation to him.
"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" Madam Rosmerta whispered.
"Worse even than that, m'dear…." Fudge said and his voice dropped. "Not many people are aware that the Potters knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore, who was of course working tirelessly against You-Know-Who, had a number of useful spies. One of them tipped him off, and he alerted James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding. Well, of course, You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them that their best chance was the Fidelius Charm."
"How does that work?" Madam Rosmerta asked, sounding breathless.
"An immensely complex spell," Professor Flitwick said squeakily, "involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nose pressed against their sitting room window!"
"So Black was the Potters' Secret-Keeper?" Rosmerta whispered.
"Naturally," Professor McGonagall said. "James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself…and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters' Secret-Keeper himself."
"He suspected Black?" Rosmerta gasped.
"He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements," Professor McGonagall said darkly. "Indeed, he had suspected for some time that someone on our side had turned traitor and was passing a lot of information to You-Know-Who."
"But James Potter insisted on using Black?"
"He did," Fudge said heavily. Kirsten thought heavily on this in confusion. But why would James insist on using Black instead of Dumbledore, if Dumbledore suspected a traitor amongst them? If they knew each other throughout Hogwarts, wouldn't James be able to tell that Black was acting suspicious? "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"
"Black betrayed them?" Rosmerta breathed in.
"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seems to have planned this for the moment of the Potters' death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position indeed. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"
"Filthy, stinkin', turncoat!" Hagrid said very loudly that half the bar went quiet. Professor McGonagall shushed him.
"I met him!" Hagrid growled. "I musta bin the last ter see him before he killed all them people! It was me what rescued Harry from Lily an' James's house after they was killed! Jus' got him outta the ruins, poor little thing, with a great slash across his forehead, an' his parents dead…an' Sirius Black turns up, on that flyin' motorbike he used ter ride. Never occurred ter me what he was doin' there. I didn' know he'd bin Lily an' James's Secret-Keeper. Thought he'd jus' heard the news o' You-Know-Who's attack an' come ter see what he could do. White an' shakin', he was, rambling about Ali and their baby. How Ali was dead. Mumblin' how he couldn't find their baby. An' yeh know what I did? I COMFORTED THE MURDERIN' TRAITOR!" Hagrid roared, causing Kirsten to jump back a bit.
Remind me to never get Hagrid angry.
"Hagrid, please!" Professor McGonagall said. "Keep your voice down!"
"How was I ter know he wasn' upset abou' Lily an' James? It was You-Know-Who he cared abou'! An' then he says, 'Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I'm his godfather, I'll look after him—' Ha! But I'd had me orders from Dumbledore, an' I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an' uncle's. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. 'I won't need it anymore,' he says.
"I shoulda known there was somethin' fishy goin' on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin' it ter me for? Why wouldn' he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace. Dumbledore knew he'd bin the Potters' Secret-Keeper. Black knew he was goin' ter have ter run fer it that night, knew it was a matter o' hours before the Ministry was after him.
"But what if I'd given Harry to him, eh? I bet he'd've pitched him off the bike halfway out ter sea. His bes' friends' son! But when a wizard goes over ter the Dark Side, there's nothin' and no one that matters to 'em anymore…."
A long silence followed Hagrid's story and Kirsten realized she was holding her breath for the majority of it.
"But he didn't manage to disappear, did he? The Ministry of Magic caught up with him the next day!"
"Alas, if only we had," Fudge said bitterly. "It was not we who found him. It was little Peter Pettigrew—another of the Potters' friends. Maddened by grief, no doubt, and knowing that Black had been the Potters' Secret Keeper, he went after Black himself."
"Hero-worshipped Black and Potter," Professor McGonagall said. "Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I—how I regret that now…." Kirsten listened with surprise as she heard her head of house sound as though she suddenly caught a head cold.
"There, now, Minerva," Fudge said kindly, "Pettigrew died a hero's death. Eyewitnesses—Muggles, of course, we wiped their memories later—told us how Pettigrew cornered Black. They say he was sobbing, 'Lily and James, Sirius! How could you?' And then he went for is wand. Well, of course, Black was quicker. Blew Pettigrew to smithereens…."
The black haired witch under the table could hear Professor McGonagall blowing her nose. "Stupid boy…foolish boy…he was always hopeless at dueling…should have left it to the Ministry…."
"I tell yeh, if I'd got ter Black before little Pettigrew did, I wouldn't've messed around with wands—I'd've ripped him limb—from—limb," Hagrid growled.
"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," Fudge said sharply. "Nobody but trained Hit Wizards from the Magical Law Enforcement Squad would have stood a chance against Black once he was cornered. I was Junior Minister in the Department of Magical Catastrophe at the time, and I was one of the first on the scene after Black murdered all those people. I—I will never forget it. I still dream about it sometimes. A crater in the middle of the street, so deep it had cracked the sewer below. Bodies everywhere. Muggles screaming. And Black standing there laughing, with what was left of Pettigrew in front of him…a heap of bloodstained robes and a few—a few fragments—"
Fudge stopped abruptly and five noses being blown could be heard from where Harry and Kirsten were hiding. Kirsten frowned at that. The robes would've never survived an attack like that if the rest of his body was blown apart.
The whole story seemed a little off to Kirsten but she shook her head, dismissing the thought as much as she could.
"Well, there you have it, Rosmerta," Fudge said his voice thick. "Black was taken away by twenty members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and Pettigrew received Order of Merlin, First Class, which I think was some comfort to his poor mother. Black's been in Azkaban ever since."
"Is it true that he's mad, Minister?"
"I wish I could say that he was," Fudge said slowly. "I certainly believe his master's defeat unhinged him for a while. The murder of Pettigrew and all those Muggles was the action of a cornered and desperate man—cruel…pointless. Yet I met Black on my last inspection of Azkaban. You know, most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them…but I was shocked at how normal Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored—asked if I'd finished with my newspaper, cool as you please, said he missed doing the crossword. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him—and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."
Kirsten's grey eyes narrowed considerably. What?
Seconds passed before Rosmerta spoke up. "Wasn't his wife Alicia Stephens?"
"Yes, Lily Evan's friend," Fudge replied, his voice taking on a strange tone. "An odd woman, she was. Very intelligent though."
"She never realized when any of the young men would chase her all over Hogwarts. Never realized Black liked her either until he finally made a bold move," Flitwick spoke up, chuckling. Kirsten heard McGonagall scoff.
"He disrupted my class that day. Honestly," Professor McGonagall said, "kissing her in the middle of my lesson was not something I thought he had in mind."
Rosmerta, Hagrid, and Flitwick let out laughs, and Kirsten couldn't help but smirk as plans began formulating in her head.
"I've been hearing rumors, Minister," Rosmerta started, "that their daughter is still alive."
The five adults were quiet for a moment until Fudge sighed in response.
"It is true, m'dear," he said. "The first time I laid eyes on her, I thought she was her father."
"She looks like a mix of both, actually," Professor Flitwick piped in.
"A rather intelligent student, though she does tend to get in trouble," McGonagall stated.
"….Does she know?" Rosmerta asked in a low voice.
"She thinks she is just a Muggle-born –" Kirsten heard what sounded like choking, and she heard McGonagall sigh. "Hagrid, did you tell her?"
"I only told 'er that 'er parents were magical," he admitted. Grey eyes narrowed into slits as she heard this and she suddenly dreaded coming along with Harry. She should have stopped them as soon as she saw that name. She didn't want to know what could ensue. And she had a feeling who this girl was.
"Shouldn't she know?"
"Oh, she has every right to know who her parents are," McGonagall spoke up. Kirsten could hear the anger in the witch's voice as she spoke.
"I think not, Minerva! The girl was threatening when I first met her," Fudge said. "Imagine telling her, her true heritage. Side with her father, most likely."
"Threatenin'? Sidin' with Black? She doesn't even know her family name!" Hagrid defended the mysterious girl of discussion. "Friendlier than mos' of the people I met in me life!"
"And as much as she has a penchant for detentions, she would never –"
"You do not know her!"
There was a silence after Fudge interrupted McGonagall. Kirsten's heart was pounding rapidly within her chest. Oh. My. God.
"She is under my care as someone under my house. Her behavior is one of a normal adolescent witch, especially one raised in a Muggle orphanage. She is an intelligent student, and I am surprised she hasn't realized her surname yet. It doesn't matter whether her name is Kirsten Carlisle or Kirsten Black, I cannot fathom the thought that she would ever commit the heinous act of murder and never will."
The grey eyes of the witch closed and she tried her hardest to calm her speeding heart. Emotions she had not felt for so long pushed forward while she tried her hardest to push them back. Foolish. Stupid. To even think Sirius Black would be her uncle. How had she not realized that he was her father? Especially with the way everyone would eye her?
"You know, Cornelius, if you're dining with the headmaster, we'd better head up to the castle," Professor McGonagall said coldly. Her tone of voice held an edge that she had never heard McGonagall use. The sound of scraping chairs and shuffling feet reached Kirsten's ears and the professors and the minister left.
"Harry?"
"Kia?"
Her heart was still rapidly beating in her chest. I have to get out of here. Crawling on all fours, Kirsten ducked out from the table and headed straight out the door. Avoiding the small groups of bundled witches and wizards, she ran further away from the shops.
"Where do you think you're going, Kirsten?"
The girl in question turned around to face green eyes staring furiously at her. Kirsten watched the boy in alarm. One thing she remembered about Harry was that she had never seen him so angry. Her eyes glanced at what the boy clutched in his right hand. He wouldn't…
"Off to go with your old man?" Harry yelled. Her eyes widened and then narrowed considerably as she looked at her friend.
"Are you hearing yourself, Harry?" she asked.
"He killed my parents!"
Kirsten didn't have much time to realize that Harry pointed his wand at her until her body was sent reeling through the air. She collided against a brick cottage and let out a painful cry as her head slammed against the home. In the next second, her body landed in the foot of snow.
Her grey eyes watered as she steadily got her feet and bit her lip from gasping out in pain. Through her foggy vision, she could spot several dark drops falling from her head and staining the clean snow. Her hand immediately reached up to touch the large gash that now grazed her forehead. She couldn't believe it. That he would actually intend to hurt her. The anger in Harry's eyes moments earlier appeared on constant repeat in her mind. She ignored the other two Gryffindors as she ran past them, not caring how much pain she was in. She didn't realize she had already made it back into the castle.
Thump, thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.
"Damn it," she swore, shutting her eyes closed in pain. The pounding in her head made the gash on her forehead feel like a minor paper cut. Her body leaned against the wall and she slumped down to the floor. Everything was suddenly becoming too much for her. Her mind was whirling with thoughts mixed along the beats pounding in her head. It wasn't a surprise when the rest of the young witch's form fell to the floor unconscious.