Heya. Another chapter; read and enjoy (And review!)
Catrin was back in the Room of Requirement again, but this time, she was talking to a young man, whose dark hair fell in waves around his face as he laughed, eyes dancing in his handsome face. As she watched, he grew grey and gaunt, lines drawing themselves across his face in a map and cheeks caving into hollows. She watched, unable to tear herself away from his withering body, as with a snarl, Rodolphus lunged at her.
"Aah!" She screamed, sitting bolt-upright in her bed.
Her yell was echoed by the dozen or so people sitting around her. She glanced around wildly, taking in the light shining through the windows, which was daylight, and the rows of neatly ordered, pristine beds. She was in the Hospital Wing, and the shocked faces of James, Fred, Alice, Scorpius, Mr Potter and Alice. She swallowed slowly, suddenly aware of her aching muscles and throbbing head.
"Pam...pam ydw i...why am I here?" Her tongue was decidedly fuzzy, though her cheeks still flamed up at the language slip.
"Well, I'm not entirely sure that you noticed your spectacular face-plant with the wall." James piped up flippantly. "Or maybe you were demonstrating your frankly magnetic love? Catkin, I don't know how to say this...but a wall is not likely to return those deep and complicated feelings."
"James!" His father elbowed him, grinning, before returning his attention to her, the invalid. "Well, as James so neatly summed up...you did crash into a mirror, Catrin. Concussion, some nasty head wounds...it was a miracle you managed to stand up at all, let alone aim a spell accurately. And the fact that Madam Pomfrey was close by to help heal was a godsend."
Now that James had mentioned it, the battle in the Room of Reflections came flooding back with a vengeance, making her poor brain ache all the more. She cast a fresh eye over her visitors: James and Scorpius, though keeping a wide distance between them, looked fine, Mr Potter a little rumpled and dusty and Fred had a thick purple gunk over the cut Lestrange had given him. The other visitor, Alice, looked extremely fresh compared to the rest of the wizards.
"How...what happened after I fainted?" She asked. "How's Teddy? And what happened to Lestrange?"
Alice smiled with the satisfaction of one who has seen her grandparents' torturer brought to justice.
"Lestrange is dead." She said happily. "Or if not, so badly burnt he can never escape Azkaban ever again. I've told Dad."
"How did he take it?"
"He cried." She said softly. "But he's happy. He's gone off to St. Mungo's now."
Catrin couldn't think of anything to say, so changed the subject quickly. "And Teddy? And the frozen people?"
"Woah!" Harry laughed, holding up both hands. "Teddy's absolutely fine. He did come to see you, but then went to see Victoire and make sure she was alright." He broke off to smile slightly. "All the petrified- Diggle, Thomas, Creevey- they've been returned to their families. Unfrozen, I should say."
Catrin sighed in relief, and relaxed slowly back into the pillows. She hadn't realised how responsible she'd felt for all of those people until she'd been reassured that they were safe. Harry glanced around at her friends, who were grinning at each other with triumph at their endeavour.
"I was going to save to save this for later, but I can't believe how stupid-"
"-ly brave you were. You deserve a medal." Interjected Fred quickly, raising eyebrows at his uncle. "And I promise never to say that you were stupid in running into a room full of ex-Death Eaters."
"What-no!" Sputtered Harry. "You were stupid!"
"That's how we roll, father." James grinned lazily, leaning back in his chair. "Anyway, if it wasn't for us, you could have been fried by now. Instead, Lestrange has ended up medium-rare."
"Get out!" Harry slapped his son's shoulder affectionately. "Catrin probably needs her rest. You'll need sleep and food as well. Scat!"
Fred and Alice made a face, but followed the younger Potter out of the door with a wave. Scorpius, who had been silent until now, grinned cautiously at Catrin, who returned his smile without any hesitation.
"Thank you for intervening." She said quietly. "Otherwise I'd have hit the wall again."
"No problem. Hey- you owe me now!" Scorpius looked pleased with himself. "You're going to have to have another lesson with me to pay that off."
"I'd have done it anyway." Catrin said honestly, pushing a dark curl out of her face. "Once I'm better though."
"Yeah, yeah. See you later, Cat." Grey eye met grey eye, and they exchanged conspirator's grins, before her Slytherin friend left too, leaving Harry Potter alone with her. His vivid eyes examined her intensely.
"Are you alright?" He asked directly- the first person to do so. She nodded, trying for a smile, but finding it too hard and staring to the side- at her bedside table- instead.
Her necklace! Intact and gleaming, it sat there, winking at her.
Catrin glanced warily at Harry, and then grabbed it, fastening the chain securely around her neck where it belonged. It was a piece of her mother, right there. As it swung into place on her collarbone, another fragment of the night's conversation popped into her brain, and her fingers stilled on the clasp.
"Mr Potter..." She said slowly, causing Harry to cock his head to the side, ready for her question. "Lestrange said my necklace belonged to the...Ancient House of Black. Does it? He...screamed at me for wearing 'his Bella's necklace'."
James' father pressed his lips together and reached forwards to examine the chain. It hurt to do it, but Catrin slowly, very slowly, undid the clasp again and coiled the pearls into his palm, ready for his inspection.
After a long while, he looked up and nodded stiffly. "Yes."
"Doesn't that mean we're related? Would this be a kind of ...family heirloom? My mother wasn't related to the Blacks...I don't think. It must have been my dad!" Another memory slotted into place. "Oh! And Lestrange said that your godfather had a child. With...Marly? Marlene McKinnon."
Whatever Mr Potter been expecting, it probably wasn't that.
"What?" Mouth dropped open, Harry goggled at her. "No! I would have known..." His voice trailed off. Catrin felt bad to be the one to tell him, but she felt that Harry had a right to know. No point putting it off.
"He's lying." He said eventually, mashing his fist into his forehead and looking ten years older.
"I don't think so. He seemed pretty sure." Catrin said bluntly, reaching out to grab the necklace and return it to her neck. "You might have to check for birth certificates, but they're probably there."
Seeing his devastated expression, she felt more than a little guilty about breaking the news like that.
Fortunately, just then the hospital door opened, and a middle aged witch stepped inside, untying her cloak from around her shoulders in a businesslike manner.
"Oh!" Mr Potter jumped violently, before turning to make introductions. "This, Catrin, is Hestia. Your aunt."
Catrin did a double take, and now it was her turn to goggle at the woman, who looked back at her, scrutinising Catrin as much as she was being scrutinised herself.
Hestia Jones had thick, dark, but greying hair, and Catrin could clearly see her mother- and to some extent herself- in the set of her lips and in her expression. Mr Potter quickly stood up and left after exchanging a quick greeting with Hestia, leaving the two alone.
The atmosphere rapidly became uncomfortable. Catrin said nothing; she wanted to find out why Hestia had simply chosen not to intervene when her mother had died, and condemned her to a year of street living, but she didn't exactly know where to start.
"You look a lot like her." Hestia said finally, dropping into the seat next to the bed. She had the same lilting accent as Catrin.
"Thank you."
"She was younger than me, much less academic. She was happiest with the wind in her hair and a good fifteen feet off the ground." She sighed, expression sad. "I suppose you want to know why I didn't come and find you after she died."
Wow. That was blunt. Cautiously, Catrin nodded.
"Well, I knew you existed, of course, but Gwendolyn had expressly warned me not to go near you- or her. She didn't want to have any contact with the Wizarding World at all. I only found out she died... when you wrote to me a couple of months ago."
The last bit was said quickly, and accompanied with a blush. Of shame? Catrin hoped so- she was suddenly furious.
"She was your sister!" She said loudly. Her voice echoed unnervingly in the empty room. "How could you not care what happened to her?"
"Of course I cared! I tried to find out what happened to her but she severed contact with all her family. She threatened to curse me when I showed up on the doorstep! What could I do?" Hestia defended herself almost as angrily, and Catrin saw behind her polite facade to the skilled, strong-willed Auror underneath.
"You could have found out what happened to me..." Catrin said quietly. She had meant to shout it, but once it got past the lump in her throat it came out as a whisper, and was accompanied by a suspicious wetness in her eyes. She swallowed fiercely.
Hestia reached forwards hesitantly, and laid a careful hand on Catrin's shoulder. That was uncomfortable; she didn't like being touched much. But here, it helped her gather her thoughts.
"I miss her." She admitted softly, though it hurt to do so.
"I miss her too." Hestia said, almost as gently.
They sat like that for a while, the girl and her aunt, in the quiet, peaceful room, while dust motes swirled on the air. Eventually, Hestia spoke up. "I realise this might be too soon, but I know that you don't have anywhere to go during the summer holidays. You don't have to answer this now, but...would you like to come and stay with me?"
"Live? With you?" Catrin was jolted out of her reverie into bluntness. "But I hardly know you!" Instantly she cursed inwardly. Turning down a free home with her only remaining relative in favour of a life on the streets? Clever, Catrin!
"Well, that'll fix itself over time, won't it?" The witch smiled, hazel eyes sparkling. Catrin hesitated, and then grinned back, spirits lifting.
It would: she'd make it happen.
The next few days passed in a blur of visitors and friends. Catrin was surprised by how many people she had managed to attract to her bedside, despite the fact that the first-years involvement in the battle with Rodolphus had been kept strictly hush-hush by Professor McGonagall. She spent much of that time with Hestia Jones, getting to know her better, and finding out (with a bit of annoyance) that she was married, to a man named Aberon Meadowes- a tall, well-built wizard with a thatch of sandy hair. So she wasn't actually a 'Jones' at all. Fortunately for Catrin, their only child, Tom, was currently spending his fourth year at the Wizarding School in New Zealand, but he would sadly be back for the holidays. Despite the joy of having a home and some relatives to finally call her own, Catrin was annoyed with 'Tom' for existing- there was going to be a fair amount of awkwardness there. At least Hestia had filled in the adoption paperwork already.
Finally, four days after the 'battle', Catrin was released from the confinement of the Hospital Wing into the quiet of the castle. There was still a good hour to go before lunchtime, but she didn't want to talk to anyone just yet. Instead, she went straight to the Gryffindor Girl's Dormitory and reached under her bed for the box which was all she had left of her mother. Her fingers went straight to the letter, and she took a deep breath, before finally slitting the envelope, and unfolding the paper.
Cariad,
I know that you won't have wanted to open this, but I'm so glad you finally did. Hopefully you'll see this as a friendly wave from beyond the grave, and know that I'll be watching over you.
There's so much that I could say, but I'll have to confine it, as I know that I haven't got much time left, and I want to spend as much of it as I can with you while I'm alive. So: the basics. I guess that you'll want to know about your father. The truth is, he and I met a long time ago at my workplace (I once played sport for a living- don't be incredulous!) His name was Nate Black- or McKinnon, he liked to use both. He was about the same age as me; he had dark hair and grey eyes. It was a whirlwind romance- around five months later, he proposed and I accepted. That was when I became pregnant with you. Then, whilst we were planning our wedding, he died very suddenly. I wish you could have met him; you're very alike, both very alive and wild. You inherited his temperament, most definitely!
How can you track him down? I didn't know much about him: he was born around 1979 to a single mother. He didn't know his father, or didn't want to tell me: I guess you've got that in common! He was very loyal, with a strong sense of right and wrong. His death was the reason I lost contact with my family- I didn't want to have any more to do with the world in which I had lived.
What else? I love you. I don't worry about your life in the future, because I know you'll make it through, my little fighter. Don't be sad about my death; I'm still here. Please don't turn your back on my old world- it just wasn't suited to me. Finally, and most importantly, learn to ride a broomstick!
Love, Mam