Christmas Day came almost too quickly, in a blur of wrapping paper, Spellotape and food. And what a Christmas it was- Catrin couldn't ever remember feeling happier, and decided that this was the way she would aim to spend Christmas for the rest of her life. They feasted sumptuously on turkey, Christmas pudding and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans until Catrin was sure that she could feel her sides splitting from the exorbitant amount of food. Her belt definitely needed letting out more than a couple of notches, anyway. The Longbottoms were wonderful hosts- kind, caring and considerate, and she developed a fondness for all of them, especially Jonny, who hid a remarkably cheeky side behind the shyness that she'd seen earlier.
The family exchanged presents in the morning, letting Catrin catch a glimpse of what it was to grow up in a wizarding household- Jonny received a toy broomstick and zoomed madly around the house, smashing various items, whilst Alice unwrapped a set of Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle comics, as well as a special Honeyduke's selection of sweets (which mysteriously disappeared ten minutes later). Catrin, for her part, was astounded to actually get some presents of her own: a Shape-Changing Hat, which morphed from bonnet to crown to any other head garment you could think of, and, rather amusingly, an Assemble-It-Yourself Transformation Kit, which caused people to sprout huge ears, noses, tongues, and hundreds of other things, depending on the combination of ingredients. Looking at it, Catrin could see an infinite number of possible revenge plans and pranks popping up in her head, and mentally thanked god that she'd spent the last amount of her Hogwarts grant to buy presents for Alice and her family- though her miniscule funding had only stretched to chocolates, if she was going to be honest.
Afterwards, Catrin insisted upon helping Hannah clean up after the gigantic Christmas dinner- though magic did most of the work- and time passed quickly thanks to the huge number of Celestina Warbeck songs which steadily oozed out of the radio.
"This song was old twenty years ago- Merlin's beard, that makes me feel even older! I was a student then...but listen to me! How are you finding Hogwarts, anyway?" Hannah asked, busily scrubbing at the roasting dish whilst Catrin tackled the tower of dirty cutlery.
"Good." Then, feeling she had to clarify, "Wonderful, actually. I like it a lot better than what I'd be doing otherwise."
Hannah didn't ask questions, and for that alone Catrin could easily have hugged her. Instead, she simply smiled and said "I loved Hogwarts. I still do, as a matter of fact. So, when Rosmerta- the last owner of the Three Broomsticks- died, I didn't hesitate to buy it from her."
"Do...do you like being the landlady?" Catrin ventured. She didn't know what wizards did when they left school, but running a pub seemed disappointingly normal to her.
"I love it." Hannah stated firmly. "I get to talk to people, which I adore, and help them, and make their day better. On top of that, I'm close to Neville, and to my children. I couldn't think of anything else I'd rather do."
"Oh." Catrin couldn't think of a response to that, so instead she stared out of the window, where fat, fluffy flakes were winding their way out of the sky. All was white, still, peaceful...
Wait.
What were those?
Catrin leaned forwards almost unconsciously, squinting through the window at the dark shapes which had seemingly materialised out of nowhere, stark against the snowy landscape. They looked tall; they were wearing black cloaks with the hoods pulled right up over their faces. They seemed to be facing another cloaked person.
"Hannah..." She said uneasily, looking up at her companion. "Who are they?"
Wiping her greasy hands on her apron, Hannah gazed out onto the white scene. "No idea. It's bad weather for it, and on Christmas Day, too! I'll just go and ask them what they want."
"Will you be alright?"
"'Course I will be, dear." But Catrin noticed that Alice's mother had taken her wand out of her apron pocket as she went to the back door and swung her cloak around her. The door shut with an ominous thump.
What should she do? Go after her? Catrin doubted that her dubious magical talent would be of much use in a fight.
Fetch Professor Longbottom, she decided, and sprinted into the living room, where Neville was conjuring up toy trains made of sparks for Jonny to chase around on his broomstick. Alice was absorbed in a book, but looked up at Catrin's entrance.
"Sir, Hannah's- I mean Mrs Longbottom's- gone outside. I mean, there are some dark figures in cloaks, and she's all on her own, and..."
Mr Longbottom sprang out of his chair with the nimbleness of a man half his age. "Alice, look after Jonny, will you? I'm sure it's nothing, but I'll just go and check."
Catrin hurried after his retreating shape, yanking on her trainers as she did so, and grabbed her cloak as she followed him out into the wilderness. Snow crunched loudly under their feet as they made their way towards the congregation, and as they got closer Catrin could see about five figures squaring off to the short shape. Ahead, Hannah was just about reaching them.
Suddenly, the prospect of going to face up to those figures was a lot less appealing.
"...what are you doing here?" Catrin could just about make out. "Why are you bothering us again, after all these years? I must say, this is most irregular, but I'm sure Harry will be pleased to see you again."
Indistinct mumbling. And then- "You. You! What- why?"
Professor Longbottom lengthened his stride and ran to his wife's- and the mysterious person's- aid, but before he could do anything there were was a whoosh, shortly followed by several loud cracks, and the shadowy outlines disappeared- literally vanished- into thin air.
Whilst Catrin stood there, gawping at the scene, Hannah made her way towards them, shaking, and was hastily enfolded in Professor Longbottom's arms.
"Is everything alright?" he asked urgently, and was rewarded with a quick nod. "What did they want?"
"I'm not sure...shall we see whether that person is alright?"
A very unteacherly word was uttered, and then Catrin's Head of House was striding towards the only person left, the attacked one, lying in the snow, limp as a rag doll. Catrin followed, ignoring Hannah's gasp, with butterflies fluttering apprehensively in her stomach and her heart in her throat. Professor Longbottom was helping the figure to sit up; as he did so, the voluminous hood fell back, and she saw a short, elderly man with a violently purple scarf and a bushy white beard.
"Come on, Deadalus, let's get you inside. I'm sure you'll feel better after a hot cup of tea."
Longbottom motioned with his hand for Catrin to help him stand, and with Hannah's aid, they helped him inside to the front of the fire, conjuring up a mug of tea from the kitchen as he did so. Alice sat up, alarmed, but he quickly spoke over, voice low and urgent.
"It's alright- your mother's just had a bit of a shock. Mr Diggle, meanwhile, has had a Speech Impediment Jinx put on him, so we don't know who he was talking to- your mum wasn't close enough to see. Just look after him, whilst I go up to the Castle and find Minerva- sorry, Professor McGonagall. I won't be long."
And with that, he spun on the spot, and, with a sound like a gunshot, disappeared. Catrin stared at Alice. "What is that?"
Alice glanced up. "What? Oh, that. Apparition. How we get places. Without those weird boxes on wheels that Muggles use. What happened out there?"
"Um. Mr...Mr Diggle was talking to these guys- there were about five of them, I didn't really see any of them. He...he sounded like he recognised them, anyway. Then we came up to see what was going on- there was a whooshing, like wind, and then they...apparationed?"
"Disapparated. Well, whoever it was, Dad will probably know as well. He used to be part of a secret society, fighting Dark wizards." Alice looked suitably proud, and then lowered her voice to a whisper. "Poor man. I think he's in shock. I know this wizard who had his own Memory Charm backfire on him- never recovered."
Catrin did not find this news at all encouraging.
Alice looked concernedly at Diggle, who was taking baby sips from his mug, and staring into the grate, fixed expression firmly in place.
They didn't say anything else while Hannah came into the living room as well, steadily draining her mug, but by the time she'd finished, their visitor looked decidedly less grim. He stood up so suddenly that both Alice and Catrin jumped, and mimed going to put his mug away, holding it up meaningfully, and beaming broadly.
"Will he be alright?"
"Yeah." Catrin said bracingly. "'Course he will be."
Just then, there came the sound of smashing china from the kitchen. The three females glanced at each other, and Catrin and Alice raced to the doorway to help the man, whom they were sure had fallen.
But he hadn't fallen. In fact, he was no longer there at all, but his cloak and shoes were still by the closed door.
Alice clapped her hand to her mouth, stifling a scream, whilst Catrin bent down. The china fragments were lying in a puddle of clear liquid- melted water from his clothing? She reached down to pick them up almost absent-mindedly, not minding her soaking jeans, and put them into a bowl, dripping the water everywhere.
"What's happened?" Hannah was standing at the doorway, her mug in her hand. "Has he left already?"
"He..." Catrin found it hard to take in. She swallowed hard- the butterflies from earlier had been transfigured into a herd of buffalos. A distant threat, brought so close? "He's vanished. Deadalus Diggle is missing."
The rest of the Christmas holidays passed in a blur of Ministry workers, Aurors, and Daily Prophet reporters scurrying around Hogsmeade. It seemed that Deadalus Diggle, like the others, had well and truly pulled a –well, a magical- disappearing trick on the rest of the Wizarding World, baffling even the best magicians as to how it was done. Catrin, for her part, went back to Hogwarts with Alice, and as such was able to avoid the reporters scurrying around the Three Broomsticks like vultures circling in for the kill- Hannah wasn't so lucky. Fortunately for her, the persistent snow meant that they all soon left, though not before they had vamped the fears of the Wizarding world to fever pitch.
Unfortunately, the rest of the students soon returned from their holidays, all of them eager to know what had happened. Once word had gotten around that it had been Catrin and Alice who had been eyewitness to the whole thing, they were besieged by a barrage of students, all eager for their firsthand opinion and recount of the whole thing. Sadly for them, Alice was very quiet about the whole thing, and Catrin, who didn't mind crowds, but who loathed being at the centre of attention, had to learn where the secret passageways around Hogwarts were very fast, or risk being ambushed.
As for their friends, Valerie was glad she'd missed out on the action, casting a stark contrast to Mary, who wanted to know everything. James Potter and Fred Weasley had also been keen to know what had transpired, but Potter had refrained from asking too many questions because of, Catrin strongly suspected, jealousy that he was not the one that everybody was heckling. She had been trying to work everything out- and, for some reason, had taken the bowl of drenched tea shards with her, in the hopes that it would lead to some kind of clue which would save Deadalus and the other vanished wizards. So far, all the china had done was sit at the bottom of the water, glaring at her, but Catrin was determined that there was something she could do to unravel the mystery.
Needless to say, she hadn't gotten far, though the troubles had, for once, completely eclipsed her quest to find her family- except for the letter she'd written to Hestia Jones, delivered to her by Hannah, who apparently knew her.
The first-years were soon buried in a mound of parchement by the homework heaved onto them almost immediately after they came back by their teachers, which occupied much of their time. The library became the most popular spot by far, and Catrin spent time there after her friends had gone, hoping to speak to Michael Thomas. Happily or unhappily, he was avoiding her with a vengeance, probably wary of getting dragged into the fracas himself. She couldn't really blame him.
On one library-oriented evening, Catrin was heading back to the Common Room in a towering temper, thanks to a Dungbomb set off under her seat by none others than Messrs. Potter and Weasley. She would have hit them, if she knew where to find them, but they had literally, and conveniently, vanished into thin air. With nobody to take her temper out on, she had nothing left to do but storm back to her four-poster, looking for something on which to vent her fury.
So when she banged past a student, and heard him gasp, then start to say 'Rictu-' she didn't think twice about lashing her foot around in a powerhouse kick, making contact with something hard. She heard the dull snap, but it was too late...and then a spell slammed into her ribs, knocking her backwards onto the floor, and causing her to narrowly miss a statue.
For a second, both her and her assailant/victim lay gasping on the stone flags, getting their wind back. Catrin felt like she'd gotten on the wrong end of an elephant stampede- no, an erumpent stampede. Gingerly, she ran a hand over her ribs, taking a cautious inventory of her various battle wounds. Head: intact, but hurting. Ribs, arms, legs...actually, rest of body: ditto. Slowly, she levered herself into a sitting position, in order to get a better view of who it was that had attacked her and been attacked by her. Then she felt her stomach sink.
Blond hair, grey- but red-rimmed- eyes, pointed chin- Scorpius Malfoy was clutching his bloody nose and glaring daggers at her.
Her first reaction was absolute horror- firstly, because it looked like she'd broken his nose! Merlin's pants, this was bad. She didn't mind teaching other students (namely, the Troublesome Twins) a lesson, but actually hurting someone was something else completely.
What should she do now? Catrin opened her mouth to apologize, but-
"What dyoo do dat for?" Scorpius snarled. Her sympathies vanished.
"You attacked me!"
"Dyoo attacked me first!"
"I didn't attack you! Well, I didn't mean to. I was just angry. Not with you!" Catrin amended hastily. "With James Potter."
"Oh, him? Gryffindors do fall out, do dey?"
"Of course! Er- so do Slytherins."
"Doh." Scorpius pushed out his thin chest proudly, and spat out a mouthful of red. "We stick together. Dot like you, obviousdy."
"And then you gang up to attack us." Catrin pulled her aching knees close into her chest, resting her chin on them.
"What? I think dyoo'll find that dyoo attack us."
Catrin stared into his grey eyes, and was struck by how similar they were to hers. In fact, by how similar his opinion was to hers- just flipped in favour of his house. Suddenly weary, she closed her eyes, and apologised. "I'm sorry."
Scorpius looked startled- or as startled as one could look with blood dripping down their chin. She didn't think he'd expected that. "Um...dat's alright. Weird, dough. Our houses don't normally say sorry to each udder."
Catrin was, despite herself, intrigued by this statement, and leaned forwards, eyes suddenly snapping open again.
"How long d'you reckon this Gryffindor-Slytherin thing has been going on?"
"Dunno. Dince Hogwarts sdarted, I guess."
Catrin felt a wave of sympathy towards him. His nose was quite probably broken- and it was all her fault. It was the least she could do to ensure that he got it fixed.
"Well, today a Gryffindor is helping a Slytherin. To the Hospital Wing. Come on."