Hey guys. Getting there, now...! Enjoy the chapter, I've tried to cram things in. Hope that doesn't make it any worse...anyway, read, review! :)
"Now, class, please sit down and be quiet. As those of you who have prepared will undoubtedly know, it is the Transfiguration Practical today." Professor Patil surveyed the first-years sternly from her vantage point in front of the desks, and then waved her wand. Several sets of cages picked themselves up, and zoomed towards each set of students, squeaking noisily. Inside were two pairs of sleek rats, and upon seeing them, quite a few girls screamed, Mary amongst them. Glancing surreptitiously around, Catrin noted that Michael Thomas was looking pale, and that Hugo Downsen's head had hit the edge of his desk in what seemed to be a dead faint.
"Calm down, class, they're only rats! Mr Richards, please take Mr Downsen to the Hospital Wing and come straight back. He can perform the test later with Miss Fletcher- with a hamster, if that makes him feel better." Patil sighed impatiently. "Everyone, please open the cage, take a rat- don't be silly, they won't bite- and pass it along."
Catrin did as Patil said, retrieving a squirming, wriggling rat from the cage and plonking it down in one of the smaller ones that each student had been given. It sat at the bottom, glaring dolefully at her and baring little ratty teeth.
"How's Valerie?"
Catrin turned around to see Nicole Macmillan gazing at her, eyes worried. Slightly touched, Catrin explained that she should be fine. After sprinting from the hall, the girls had taken refuge behind a suit of armour until Professors McGonagall and Dawlish had arrived to wrestle the cutlery off the shrieking girls. Valerie was, even now, being treated by an irate Madam Pomfrey, who was having trouble persuading the sugar tongs to relinquish their grip on her nose. Catrin, meanwhile, was absolutely furious with James and Fred- she was sure it had been them, who else would perform a prank like that?- and had given them the full-on sang froid treatment since breakfast. Annoyingly, they didn't seem to have noticed yet, though a lot of whispering was going on- mostly about Rodolphus Lestrange. Catrin had read up on the Daily Prophet, and from what she could gather they were right to be worried. Lestrange had been sighted last week on the border to Scotland- not all that far from Hogwarts. She fervently hoped that the school was not on his check-in list.
"Miss Jones, please face the front!" Catrin jumped, blushed scarlet and turned to look at a fuming Professor Patil. It probably was best not to antagonize this teacher- Catrin generally made it a rule not to annoy people who could turn her into a toad with a flick of their wand.
"Sorry, miss."
"Be sure it doesn't happen again." The teacher waved her wand, and twenty pairs of rats simultaneously transformed into little rat-figurines. "Don't worry- animal transformations are much too advanced for first-years. Right, you know the incantation, and what to do- or you should, if you've been revising. Consider this a taste of how your summer exams will be. At present, you have thirty minutes to transform your prospective figurines into sugar mice, starting- now!"
Catrin gulped and eyeballed the porcelain. She'd been so caught up in the Disappearing Mug Crisis that she'd only skimmed her books on Small Object Transfigurations. Beside her, Alice was waving her wand and murmuring under her breath at her rat, whilst Mary looked as though she was copying everything that her friend did.
The thirty minutes passed extremely quickly, and although the figurine eventually showed signs of crystallisation, Catrin couldn't rightly explain how its ears grew to the size of golf balls or why the rat started smelling, inexplicably, of cough sweets. Glancing around the room to see where everyone else had gotten to, Catrin was pleased to see that most of the rats, although transfigured into mice, were sporting some kind of deformity. James' in particular, she noted, had sported a pair of blood-shot, bulging eyes. Alice's was almost perfect, sadly, but her own wasn't too far behind the general standard, and when Patil called time, she was proud to hand in her sugary rodent for inspection, and leave with the rest of them.
"I don't think that went too badly, do you?" Mary said cheerfully as they wended their way towards the Great Hall. "A nice way to finish off the day, I reckon- hey, Catrin! Where are you going?"
"Err..." Catrin had neglected to tell the others about her upcoming lesson with Scorpius, and wasn't sure that she wanted to tell the others about it.
"I'm just..." She stammered... "I've got a lesson."
"No, Cat, lessons have just finished." Mary twisted a braid around her finger and cocked her head quizzically at her friend, who shifted uncomfortably.
"No. It's with a friend. He's teaching me some defensive spells."
"You could have just told me that Potter and Weasley have given in." Mary grinned. "That's great news, Cat! Can I come along?"
"It's not with Potter and Weasley."Catrin was sure she could fry an egg on her cheeks, they were so warm. "It's with Scorpius. Malfoy."
"Malfoy? But he's a Slytherin!"
"Yes. I've gotta go now. See you!"
And ignoring Mary's spluttering, she sprinted in the opposite direction, up the marble staircase and towards the deserted classroom. It was still only five thirty, but she wanted somewhere where she could read Hestia's letter in peace, and without anyone else breathing down her neck. With perhaps the exception of Teddy, who was in a similar situation himself, Catrin wanted to keep this private.
Once inside, she glanced around, taking in the misted-up windows, stone walls and gloomy interior, and slung off her satchel, retrieving the slightly crumpled envelope, and sank onto the still-warm wooden seat. Anticipation and something suspiciously like hope had transfigured her stomach into a mass of quivering nerves. With shaking fingers, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment.
My dear Catrin
I don't know how you managed to find out about me, but can I say what a wonderful surprise it was to get your letter last month. I hope you'll forgive my lateness: I can only say that the Auror Office has been calling up its old employees lately and I've had a lot of work on my hands training new staff, although that's all I'm allowed to tell you!
Regarding your message, I can say that I do know a Gwendolyn Jones, or rather, did, as the dates of birth and death of your mother point the way to you being a relation of mine: my niece, to be precise. My sister, Gwendolyn Jones, was rather better known by most of the Wizarding World by her nickname, Gwenog, as she flew with the Welsh Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies before suddenly leaving the team and, subsequently, the wizarding world. I do know that she was pregnant with you around this time; I don't know who the father is, or why she chose to give up magic after you were born, as I only met her a few times after your birth.
I would love to meet you in person and find out a little more about you, as Gwendolyn lost touch with me soon after your birth, and I can easily arrange a time to come and see you during school time, if that makes it easier.
Until then,
Your aunt,
Hestia
A tear splashed onto the letter, staining the ink and creating a dark pool on the parchment. Catrin reached numb fingers up to her cheek, spreading the wetness underneath her eyes across her cheeks like some sort of mask. She didn't know what she felt; she didn't know what she should feel. Cautious happiness opened up inside her, like the unfurling petals of a flower, as she slowly began to absorb the information: she had an aunt! She was related to somebody, somebody who actually cared about her, and not somebody who had wanted to put her in an orphanage.
But it was the other thing that was hard to absorb: her mother, Gwendolyn Jones, being a fully fledged witch- more than a witch, in fact: Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. She supposed that it was kind of ironic that she should be so scared of broomsticks...but that was beside the point. She'd started the year wanting to know who her father was, and had instead discovered a whole wealth of information about her mother. Why had Gwendolyn Jones given up the magical world after Catrin's birth? Could she have in fact stopped the cancer that had slowly claimed her life, and still be here today? Would she have stopped Catrin going to Hogwarts? Just how different would her life be if she was still alive?
Catrin would give anything to have her mother back, here, with her, magic or not.
The single tear turned into a steady trickle as Catrin fought to gain composure, and lost, the lump in her throat too large to remove - just like Gwendolyn's cancer. Why? Why was she dead? Why hadn't she wanted to live for her daughter, and condemned her to a life on the streets?
"Erm- is this a bad time?"
"What-"
Catrin jumped violently, upsetting the desk and falling headfirst onto the stone-flagged floor. She'd been so upset she mustn't have noticed time passing, but now when she glanced up between the thick black lines of her eyelashes she could see that the light had dimmed, and the torches outside were casting their flickering light over the outline of Scorpius Malfoy, who was standing, fidgeting with his wand at the entrance and looking extremely uncomfortable.
She jumped up, angrily swiping away tears. "No, no, it's alright, I'm fine. Is it six o'clock already?"
As if on cue, her stomach complained, growling angrily at her.
Scorpius, looking even more embarrassed, reached into his bag and withdrew a couple of rolls and an apple, causing Catrin to goggle at him. What kind of person carried spare bread in their bag?
"Er- your friend-" his mouth twisted in a wry smile "-ambushed me in the Entrance Hall and wanted to know why we had arranged lessons, and why I'd set it so you didn't have time to eat. So I took some food, for you. You know, only if you want it."
"Oh..." Catrin couldn't think of anything to say- she could only marvel at Mary's total lack of embarrassment and tact and at the fact that Scorpius had actually been thoughtful enough to bring food with him. She took it.
"Thank you."
"It's nothing." Even in the dim light, she could make out a faint blush staining his cheeks. To cover it, he waved his wand, igniting the torches in the classroom, and adopted a businesslike manner.
"You eat; I'll talk."
Catrin obeyed, watching as he went through the motions of Rictusempra, explaining where and when it could be used, along with the effects- apparently the spell had only grazed Catrin, and a fully-fledged Rictusempra spell could give you a serious attack of the tickles. It was oddly soothing on her frayed nerves, sitting in a deserted classroom with a Slytherin, eating pilfered rolls and learning magic- though it was extremely satisfying when she started to teach him the basics of self-defence, drawing on what she could remember from judo lessons- she discovered that Scorpius was a patient learner, unlike some Gryffindors that she could mention.
"Your footwork's wrong, the legs should be positioned here, and here."
"I'm doing that."
"Oh, okay then. Right...what shall I do first? Making someone let go of you."
"Okay , sounds good."
"Right, say if someone had a hold of you, in a hand-grasping-arm kind of situation. If you have the other arm free, you can get a hold of their fingers and either bend them back, or jam your fingernail into the gap underneath their fingernails, like this..."
"OWWWW!"
"See?"
The lesson progressed extremely quickly, and it was with considerable surprise that she heard the bell in the Clock Tower chime seven. She dropped Scorpius' arm from where she had been twisting it behind his back, and turned to face him- he was red-faced and looked rather sore. She was, too- he was a fast learner and had managed to throw in a couple of punches during their mock fight.
"Right... same time, next week?"
"I'd rather have it sooner, but...alright." Scorpius sighed, stowing his wand back in his robes, even as she did the same.
"I'll need those defensive spells soon." She muttered, thinking of the other Slytherins, of the not-so-nice variety.
"What?"
"Oh...just Macnair, McLaggen. They like to test spells on people."
Scorpius frowned, in a mild reproach. "They're fine once you get to know them. You know, Slytherins are a lot like Gryffindors, only less ruled by their instincts and more ruled by their heads."
"I guess...but they've got something hidden, I know they have. They're connected to this disappearances thing, Rodolphus coming back. They've got something stashed in the 'Room of Reflections', wherever that is."
"My dad knew Rodolphus." Said Scorpius thoughtfully. "Not for long, though, and he says he didn't like him. He's not happy that he's loose, anyway."
And then-
"I've got some idea where Macnair, Bellamy and Nott go at night..."
Catrin spun round, hardly daring to believe it, and stared Scorpius full in the face.
"You do?"
"Yes..." There was a note of reluctance in the Slytherin's voice- loyalty to his housemates, she guessed. She could understand that, but she so badly wanted to know the information. She was prepared to beg, if necessary.
"Please, please tell me!"
"Er..."
"Scorpius, please! I won't tell them, honest! I just need to know...to...satisfy my curiosity that they're not doing anything bad."
"They're not!" Scorpius said sharply. "They're good people...okay, fine. Just this once. They go to a corridor on the seventh floor- there's a weird tapestry opposite of a wizard putting some trolls in a pair of ballet shoes. I'd better go now- got loads of homework to do. Next week, then?"
"Yup. See you!"
Catrin gathered her bags and made a beeline for the Common Room. She didn't know why the Slytherins went there, or what was there, but she knew some people who most definitely would.
"Hey, Catrin, you've been a while!" Alice greeted her with a wave as she came through the entrance to the Common Room- it was a special offer at the Three Broomsticks, apparently, and therefore most of the third year and above students had gone down to Hogsmeade to take full advantage of the opportunity. Therefore, all of the first-years, sadly including Slimy Creep, had managed to grab the best seats by the fire, and were sitting there, finishing their essays for Charms. The fire cast a flickering amber glow over all of their faces.
"Oh, it's you." Slimy Creep clearly looked as enthusiastic as Catrin to be within a half-mile radius of each other. Catrin returned his sneer, and flumped down next to Alice, sinking into the sofa with a grateful sigh.
"Where have you been, Jones?" That was Fred. Catrin snuck a glance at Mary, who smiled angelically back. Clearly, Radio Jordan hadn't been broadcasting on all of the airwaves just yet- perhaps she'd been tactful enough to foresee the hammering Catrin would receive from the Troublesome Twins and the Slimy Sucker-Up.
"Erm...just in the library. But I've got a question that I need someone to answer." She lowered her voice and leaned forwards so that the few other Gryffies in the Common Room wouldn't notice or hear what was happening.
"Where on the seventh floor is there a tapestry of a wizard trying to put ballet shoes on trolls, and why is it important?"
Her statement was met with mostly confused looks, but, strangely, it was not Fred or George that answered, but Mary.
"Oh, yes! Barnabas the Barmy. The Room of Requirement's there- or at least, it used to be. Dad told me."
She proceeded to explain the situation to Catrin and the others.
Fred looked stunned. "How in Merlin's name have I not heard this from my dad? The supposed Prankmaster of Hogwarts. I'm sending him a Howler." He grumbled.
"Do you think...that this 'Room of Reflections'...you could ask for it from the Room? And it would open for you?" Catrin saw metaphorical lightbulbs pop up above Fred's, James' and Alice's heads.
"If it's still around." Mary shrugged. "Apparently your dad, James, destroyed it using some kind of weird fire thing."
Catrin looked around at the others and saw her expression mimicked in their faces- excepting Slimy Creep, who just looked perplexed. Good.
"What do you say to a little night-time excursion?"