And there it is! The last and final chapter of Mane Tribulationis; Kate's first year.

And on time! Yaayyyyy! o/

Hope you'll enjoy it.

I'd like to thank, for the billionth time, Emi for her nice comments and beautiful artworks! I can't wait to see this chapter's one!
And thank you also to Edgar Ramsés for his nice comment!

And now, enjoy!

10. The test of the Sphinx.

Kate tensed up, a shiver passing through her threatened spine, and swallowed, without being able to refrain herself from turning back. Her look first stopped on the Gryffindor blazon, sewn on the shirt. Then, on the reliefs of her interlocutor's face, floodlit by the moonlight, her eyes hidden by the darkness of her fringe. Kate, nevertheless, recognized her by the so characteristic intonation of her voice.

'M-Morgana?'

Brightness shimmered a brief moment into the young Slytherin's steely eyes, her wand still brandished.

'Alligaveritis!'

A green flash of light threw Kate against the closest tree, taking her breath. Before she could understand the situation, ivies' creepers tied her up on the trunk, keeping her hands away from her pockets.

'Morgana! What are... What are you doing?! Release me!'
'No way...'
'You're... You're not yourself!'
'I am!' claimed Morgana while approaching in a dantesque way, her wand close to her chest but still pointed on Kate. 'For the first time since the beginning, you see the real me!'

Kate was gasping for breath, the vegetal ropes strangling her, tensed on the quivering reliefs of her throat. Tears of incomprehension started to come up.

'You don't... You're wearing the Gryffindor uniform!'
'Oh, that?' she sniggered in a sneaky smile, pulling a piece of her black cape for her to see better the red and gold badge. 'Simmons leaves her things lying around too much... She's so used to lose them!'

Suzanna's uniform...

'Why?' sobbed Kate. 'Why are you doing this? We're friends!'
'We've never been friends!' spitted out Morgana. 'And I have no explanation to give you!'

The little girl's wand was oscillating in her hands: she seemed to be holding her emotions back; not fear, but joy. Scared and affected, but keeping courage, Kate tried to reach her own wand with her fingertips. But she couldn't move her arm, immobilized by the boughs chaining her whole body up. She only had one last resort...

'You only deserve one thing: to die! As fast as possible! And if the creatures of the forest didn't manage to do it, so... I'll do it myself!'

A terrifying and unstable smile stretched Morgana's blackened lips, while Kate was taking each of her assertions like a punch in her stomach. The last fragments of the liable little girl's reason flowed along her arms in an intense concentration, like a stream of cold water oozing on the surface of her skin, following her tensed muscles. A thin white light started to emanate around her scratched fingers, while Morgana was slowly articulating, measuring her spell:

'Avada...'

The translucent light suddenly became stronger around Kate's hands, and the creepers snapped all of a sudden, as if they had been cut out around the little girl's silhouette.

'... kedavra!'

The green light burst out on the trunk in a cloud of splinters and pieces of bark. Kate, who had avoided the fatal attack by a hair, rushed on Morgana. Hatred beyond reason took hold of her. Why?! Why no one was ever telling her anything? Why were they hiding so many things, especially when it was about her? Why would someone want her dead? Why?!
She pushed back Morgana's arm, which was holding her wand, and tried to hit her in the head, while the Slytherin, taken aback by this turn of events, was searching to struggle and run away, but lost her balance. Kate fell with all of her weight on her, her gleaming palm with her spread fingers stretched towards her. And when her whitened skin touched Morgana's pale forehead, a painful shock seized her limb, like a powerful static discharge, and a darkened foggy image took place in her head...

McNair. You're a McNair. All the way to your bitten nails. Up to the end of your dark hair. In the slightest steely brightness in your grey eyes. You're a McNair.
Oppressed. A future that always brings you back to your origins. Because it's all mapped out. It's all in your blood. A Pure-Blood. That, you must preserve. At all costs. Whatever you decide. Your origins are stronger than your choices.
Stand up straight. Your wand mustn't move. Don't squint. Don't smile. Keep a stiff upper lip. You're not allowed to shout, even if your screams tear up your throat. Always say the words people want to hear. You're them before you're you, but you're a McNair above all.
Strength is not what people show, what they expose to prove themselves. It is secret acts that push you into using trickery. As long as your heart is strong, nothing and no one will surpass you.

'Do you love me, my daughter?'
'Aye, father, I love you. More than anything in the world.'
'Whatever I do?'
'You don't do it for yourself, father, you do it by duty...'
'Yes... It's an obligation.'
'Because we are McNairs?'
'Because we are McNairs.'

React to nothing. Wear a mask, day and night, even your nightmares must not betray you. And if someone comes and breaks your protections or tramples your strength, avenge yourself.
His face. It can't disappear. It mustn't be forgotten. We all are men of errors, but men above all. This wrong turn... was it worth his life? In that cellar?! Godfather, why?! Why do I want, more than killing, to avenge myself for that pain?! I want to take him out. I want his daughter. I want to deprive him of what he loves most. Make her disappear, so he could never grieve. He didn't have the power of life and death on you... Not now...

'Hmmmm... The plans that haunt you, testify your great strength of mind. Desire of accomplishment more than glory of settlement... Your ambition is large-scaled. Pure nobility, tainted by the others' pasts. You suffered a lot of things; maybe that's why your thoughts are so dark. Brilliant intellect is tired of waiting for her hour when the path is all mapped out, isn't she? SLYTHERIN!'

Kate Whisper. Kate Whisper. I want to kill her. I want her dead. I have to use cunnings. I have to break her heart and send her ashes to her traitor father...
Life is nothing else but dust anymore; that you tread upon to find your mark. Her name haunts you. Kate Whisper. It haunts you so much, you loose your mask at night and you smile while thinking of her corpse at your feet and her father's tears. Sweet revenge. Litany of the happy days. Sleep, sleep little Whisper. The quiet snake is crawling beside you. The shadow is prowling under your bed. Right where you expect it least...
Friends only are people with who you share a common interest. Values. Morals. Principles. Not just empty words, laughs or tears. Everything is only superficiality in their stupid friendships. Blood relationships are the purest of all.

'I have to be hurt by the pumpkins. I have to stay in the Great Hall. You take care of that, I'll take care of Whisper... She must not be here... I have a potion; I will put it in her drink. They have to think she's a possible suspect. The least bonds she'll have, the most vulnerable she'll be. I have to get closer...'

And only shed your blood in the service of your name, nothing else.
Carve your eyes out rather than cry. Cut your vocal chords rather than scream. Suffer rather than live... As long as you didn't prove who you truly are. You're a McNair.

'Do you have what I asked you, Rosier?'
'Juffbigles might be stupid; he has everything with him... There... Here it is.'
'That's... Polyjuice?'
'Yes Prince... We have to use it with great precautions. We only have two phials...'
'What's your plan, McNair?'
'Find Dawkins... Pull a hair out of Goldilocks' head...'

Handle the mask as well as the wand. It must be as sharp as a blade. Perfect it. You're them before you're you...
How will I do? Burn her? Drown her, maybe... Make her eat mud until she chokes on it... Throw her corpse in the lake...

'I've been looking for you for half an hour! I nearly damaged my gorgeous shoes! What are you doing here?'
'Well… I'm waiting for my detention with Wolffhart.'
'Ah? Ok…'
'Why? What is it?'
'I thought we could have go together to explode some toads tonight!'
'Hem, no, that won't be possible. I doubt Wolffhart would let me go out early and I might be more punished if I miss detention!'
'That's a shame…'
'I thought you were mad at me?'
'I still am. I thought the toads could have been a good reconciliation.'
'… You're too temperamental, Maggie. That's… strange…'

The rage that boils in your veins. It pounds at the surface of your panting skin. Don't let emotions overflow you. Stay as lucid as your blood is pure... Failure only is temporary. Vengeance is a dish best served cold. And highly seasoned.
It's all about stages. Fall back on the rabbit before hunting the bear. It's all about order and food chain where you decide who will be eaten first...

'Ginny Weasley. We have to knock her down of her little heroine's cloud... We have to knock her down plainly...'
'You know how to enchant a broomstick?'
'I can control anything. And your mind too, Rosier, if you're not working with me...'
'McNair. Over there... Dawkins... I-I think she heard us...!'
'No! No! Don't run after her! Not immediately... She's a coward... She won't tell anything. On the contrary... Let's use her... Let's break the bond between her and that Whisper bastard once and for all...'

Your little naked body is white. As white as the spotless snow. And your eyes, two mercury pearls on the powder snow. Even the mirror can't take your mask down. You got caught up in the game so much that you don't recognize yourself anymore. And while you're observing yourself like that, you only have the appearance of a shapeless little girl. A dark haired cherub. With a heart polluted by your hatred for others. Those others who perforated it.

SBAF! Makes you hand when it hits your chest in a burst of fingers, before you laugh. Little dark heart has passed away. Dad will be happy. Especially when you'll have ripped Whisper's one out to replace yours missing.

'It's too easy... Simmons leaves her things lying around too much...'
'And let me see that... What a surprise, she left some hair...'
'The Polyjuice? The second phial? What do you want to do with Simmons' appearance?'
'Carry out what I dreamed of... finally. Get rid of Whisper. Put her out to pasture to the creatures of the forest. And so, they will make a necklace out of her intestines.'

Run. Run behind me Whisper. This scene is so comical. The lamb trying to catch up the wolf on his hunting ground. Come Whisper... We're going to have fun. Run behind me. Your father will find your pieces on your last steps...
I will only die with you dead, Whisper. I don't live otherwise.

When Kate blinked, she found herself on the ground, crushing Morgana with all of her weight. The latter was staring at her, horrified, while the little girl above was trying to catch her breath, gobsmacked. Only one second had passed since she had touched the Slytherin's forehead.

'What did you... You... You entered into my head...!'
'That was you... You did this! With Amy Rosier! And Lawrence Prince!'

In a scream, Morgana hurled Kate's body with her arms and legs, sending her to roll on her side. Kneeling on the grass and her hand on her hip, Kate was coughing, struggling to collect her thoughts, as if she had passed through an entire other life in addition to hers.

'Yes! Yes it's I who did this!' spitted out Morgana while getting up, half crazy. 'You deserved it! You deserved everything you've been through! You should have rot in that cellar! With your scum father! And your bitch mother!'
'Your godfather... It was him... who died in Graveson.'
'Don't talk about him!'

The kick she sent her broke her nose. Falling again violently to the ground, on her back, Kate choked as blood was streaming down her stabbing throat.

'He doesn't deserve a filthy girl like you, a traitor to his blood's daughter, to talk about him!'

Then, Morgana took back her wand and pointed it again on Kate, who was writhing in pain on the ground.

'You should know, better than anybody else, the bound between a daughter and her father, when he's a former Slytherin. We never betray him... And we love him forever... Even if he killed people!'
'The difference between my father and yours is that mine never killed innocent people...' Kate provoked her, wily.
'My father was defending the Dark Lord's cause... for the good of my family! He's not a coward. Or a traitor... like yours.'

In a laugh that Morgana didn't expect, Kate lied down on the ground, her arms wide open, her face stained with blood. Inside her, the young girl was so destroyed by this treason; she was neglecting her own survival.

'You think you were the only one who suffered the consequences of this war and its deaths? You're pathetic, Morgana McNair... I lost my uncle and my aunt. My cousin is nearing death. I saw my father suffering under my eyes and my mother depriving herself from the daylight to save me from your blind hatred. You, Death Eaters... And yet, I never blamed you... Never. That is real courage. Cowardice is attacking someone weaker than you. A twelve year old girl who can't even handle magic... Oh, how big your shame is...!'
'I almost killed Ginny Weasley, the great war heroine, the Chosen One's girlfriend! Defeated by a twelve year old, as you said... I would have liked to set Hagrid's hut on fire. His clothes are so thick and so dirty; they must burn up very well... But... they would have found out it was me if I did attacked him. After all... it's because of this oaf if my father earned some years in Azkaban...'
'And you're avoiding my words...! Yes, Morgana... Until the end... you're just a coward...'
'Shut up! Shut up! Forever!'
'Petrificus Totalus!'

A shiver took hold of Morgana who, frozen, her eyes wide opened, crashed to the ground without managing to stop herself. A dark silhouette bent over the little girl who was still spitting blood.

'Kate, are you okay?!'
'Maggie?! What are you doing here?' coughed Kate while her friend was already helping her getting up.
'Well... I was enjoying my exploding toads alone when I heard screams...! Come, let's not stay here...!'

Maggie supported her schoolmate, still suffering pain because of the kicks and successive falls, while walking towards the castle, leaving Morgana's inert body at the edge of the forbidden forest...

'I'm sorry, Maggie...'
'Did she brainwash you to say this?'
'I know now... It wasn't you...! They manipulated you... They used you...!'

Kate told what she saw into Morgana's mind, without leaving out one small detail. That she poured a potion into her pumpkin juice, the night of Halloween, that gave her an urge to go to the bathroom, in order to make her rush out of the Great Hall and make her a suspect. But Maggie accompanying her never was part of the plan... Since the beginning, she only was just a parasite to Morgana's eyes. An obstacle to the fake friendship she was having with Kate. But a vermin that turned out to be a precious tool... When she took her form to approach the young girl the night of her detention with Wolffhart. Morgana, under Maggie's features, and who the compass pointed out to be a danger for Kate, had tried to bait her with her offer of toads' hunting after she saw the girls devoting themselves to this activity on a night when she was following her prey. An opportunity to get rid of her... But countered by Wolffhart's detention about which she wasn't aware! To fall back on Ginny Weasley was a fanciful choice; to cool her jets for a while. When she was discussing with her two accomplices, the three girls had been spotted by Maggie. And they had grabbed her after breakfast, had put her under the Imperius curse to make her enchant Ginny's broomstick, before locking her up in a closet and inflicting her a slight Obliteration charm when they came back from the stadium. Maggie only was a victim of their conspiracy. She never deserved to be judged as Kate did...

'Why didn't you tell me?'
'Well, if you say they casted me Obliteration charm, how could I have remembered?'
'No, I mean... Rosier and Prince... They found a way to take some of your hair. You fought...'
'I wasn't going to tell you! That was my only problem... Those bastards... If they hadn't been two against me, they would have got scolded! Besides, wait... How is it that you read her thoughts?! It's beyond me! That McNair is nothing but a traitor, it only half-surprises me! But the fact that you, poof! You pick up into people's memories, it doesn't affects you more than that?!'
'I... I don't know how I did that...' stammered Kate while they were passing through the big door of the Entrance Hall, still opened, under the gargoyles' empty looks. 'I wanted to hit her. And when I touched her forehead, it's been like I was in her head...'

Kate had entered Morgana's memory, there was no doubt, picking up unconsciously amongst everything she could reach for her interest.

'H-How?' stammered Maggie, impressed.
'I... I think memories... are immaterial.'
'Excuse me my rudeness, but you're not teaching me anything!'
'If they're right... and I can control immaterial. Then maybe... I controlled Morgana's memories...'
'Who told you that?'
'I'll explain to you when we're back in our dormitory...'

The violent altercation between Kate and Morgana was never reported, as if it never existed. And life went on at Hogwarts. The little houseless girl was now completely devoid of ties with the Slytherin house, except when addressing some words when she was walking past Nightingal or Curtiss, to thank her for her warning. Morgana came back in the castle at dawn, frozen, when Maggie's spell had faded. Even though McNair had tried to kill her, Kate didn't report anything to her professors, considering that Morgana had paid enough. Furthermore, the powers inside her that had asserted themselves had gave her a self-confidence that was persuading her she had the advantage on her, henceforth, rival's dark magic. Even though she didn't want to show it, despite her hatred, Morgana feared Kate's unknown magic...
The week of practical exams arrived, to the great displeasure of the first years. This first day of the week, all houses were gathered in the Transfiguration classroom where Wolffhart was observing his terrified students from his desk. A grin, quivering at the corner of his dull lips, was barely seen.

'Vertig? Gut.'

When he got up, all students tensed up on their benches and Kate didn't make an exception. And with a nimble move of his wand, a focused look on his face, Wolffhart summoned on the stage, a piece of furniture of about forty inches supporting a classic art stoneware statue depicting a sphinx the size of a cat. Probably a souvenir from a mummy hunt, as Kate had observed on the pictures exposed in her professor's office...!

'Today's test is very simple', vociferated Wolffhart, his tone excessively powerful and jerky, his hands behind his back. 'You will have to turn that object into a vase of flowers. I will rate on efficiency and aesthetic.'

Panicked whispers travelled through the room, but the teacher ended it instantly.

'You don't know the spell, ich weisse! That's what a practical exercise is for! To learn to handle magic at any moment, without training! Because your enemies, wild beasts, will never give you time to exercise before making you shapeless shreds!'

He turned in a controlled spin towards the blackboard and scribbled in convulsive and exaggerated moves the spell.

'Gut!' he finished while throwing his chalk before returning to his desk and taking place, grabbing his parchment. 'I will proceed in alphabetical order.'

Kate sighed while others were getting into a spin. She had a few minutes to psychologically prepare herself to this task...

Emeric Beckett, first to pass, succeeded brilliantly the test, turning the sphinx into a crystal vase full of wild flowers. The boy had settled a high level. Even Wolffhart supported him with a nod; performance that his mates had a hard time to reproduce. Passing one after the other, Maggie produced an old clay pot with half-faded flowers, while Terry managed to form a wooden cylinder with stunted daffodils. The vase of Meredith Hatcher, a Hufflepuff, was so fragile it broke under its own weight, drowning the steps between the stage and the students' desks. It was not until Hygie Smethwyck's call that a new performance happened again. An armful of red roses burst into a gorgeous Chinese porcelain vase under the students' stunned looks and the most moderate one of their professor, hardly impressed.

'Katelyna Whisper', he called in a powerful voice once all students had passed.

Immediately, everyone sharing about their feelings and grades forecasts became silent. Under everybody's look, Kate got up and moved towards the stage, her wand tightly held by her tensed-with-stress fingers.

'I bet you she will succeed', smiled Maggie, bending towards Terry.

The latter frowned, surprised by her words.

'You think? I really like Kate but... let's be serious! She never did a spell right...!'
'So take the deal if you're so sure! If Kate turns out the sphinx, you will have to bring me some of Mrs Norris hair taken on her by yourself!'
'Turning the sphinx into ashes doesn't count!'
'We agree.'
'Good. If she explodes it, you will have to declare your love to Moira. In the Great Hall, of course.'
'Deal!'

All their hopes were suddenly leaning on poor Kate's shoulders, motionless, her eyes fixed on that damn sphinx. She was distinguishing, behind the sculpture, Wolffhart's eyes looking at her over his joined hands on his mouth, his two forefingers on each side of his curved nose. But it was reassuring her more than disturbing her... Wolffhart knew about her uncommon abilities; that she could handle immaterial. She was feeling confident... She didn't want to disappoint him.
Her face relaxed and, while she was focusing on her slowing heartbeats, she felt a warm stream coming down along her arm until running down to her wand's handle. Yes. She was perceiving immaterial... Like she did at the edge of the forbidden forest. Then, she raised her wand and in an assured voice, pronounced the spell:

'Continens flores!'

Immediately, the sphinx shivered before turning into a big chiselled silver container, inlayed with cut amethysts, and a bouquet of lilies burst open, surmounted by a branch of mauve lilac. There was a second of silence. Then a thunderous applause. The students all got up suddenly to congratulate their classmate who brilliantly succeeded her first spell of the year. Moira was exceeding everybody, standing up on her table and claiming her happiness, while Terry was clapping his hands with a wide smile, despite his defeat. Even Wolffhart applauded slowly and granted her the luxury of the first true smile appearing on his chalky face since the beginning of the year. The little girl felt tears at the edge of her eyes, fulfilled with bliss. She finally was a true witch...

Many were the students dragging their feet on Hogsmeade's platform where the Hogwarts Express was waiting, its red painting shimmering under the warm sun of June. The thick volutes coming from the locomotive's chimney were rising up in small clouds into the cerulean sky. The year was already over. A too short year. That was the first one under the aegis of peace in the wizarding world.

In his mistress' arms, Sir Sulkington was observing with a grumpy look the firebrand humans who were passing by under his eyes: leaving the school seemed to not mean anything to him; as long as he had the peace he had been yearning for so much.

'I can't realize that's it... year is over.'
'We're coming back next year, Kate, don't worry!' Suzanna reassured her with a smile.
'Except if you die', added Moira while shrugging her shoulders.
'It's hilarious how simple minded you still are after nine months...!'
'And to see you still don't have any sense of humour, Maggie!'

Suzanna had a revelation and suddenly stopped on the quay, making her friends do the same.

'Hey! Why don't we take a picture? To celebrate the end of the year! I have one left on the film! The very last one!'
'Good idea!'

And while Suzanna was taking her camera out, Terry approached Kate, greeted by the unhappy meows of the white fluffy cat.

'Have nice holidays, Kate!'
'What? You already are saying goodbye?' she faked indignation in a big smile bringing out the uncertain row of her teenager teeth. 'You don't want to come in our compartment?'
'Five girls and a cat?' he thought, his blonde eyebrows frowned, his gaze up to the sky and his big chin up. 'Hmm. I doubt I could come in! There won't be enough room for all of us! I'm not a featherweight, you know! No, don't worry. I will be in the wagon with Branstone and Clifford... But maybe we'll see each other at King's Cross!'
'At least come with us on the photo!'

Kate didn't give him choice, pulling on his arm to approach her group of friends who were posing.

'Hagrid, could you take the picture, please?' crooned Suzanna with a big bright smile while handing the camera to the half-giant, perched on her tiptoe.
'Oh, but... o' course!' he answered, surprised but proud and happy to be requested by his students, before catching the little body that could easily be held between his forefinger and his thumb.

Then, Suzanna ran towards her young Gryffindor friends, grabbing Scarlett's shoulders by the left, while Maggie was teasing Moira, placed on the front, and Kate was forcing Terry to not run away, Sir Sulkington's venomous eyes fixed on this intruder.

'Are yeh ready?' he asked in a thunderous voice while raising the camera in front of his eyes. 'Say Quidditch!'
'Quiddiiiiiiiiitch!'

The purple flash immortalized the scene. The animated picture was going to take a place of choice in the album. Because, who knew what they were going to live, together...

If there was a place where night was more terrifying than anywhere else on earth, it was St Mungo's, on the fourth floor. Everything was frozen in a pale inertia. Silence was heavy, sometimes punctuated by terrifying bloodcurdling screams.
A shadow was moving through the spotless corridors, under the subdued lights that started to flicker. The Cliodna room's door half-opened in a gloomy creaking. The oscillating light of the corridor stretched out on Eliot's statued face, as white as the walls surrounding him. A hooded silhouette placed herself on the bed and bent over him, like a wildcat sniffing its prey before eating it. Lips, gleaming with a dark purple colour, emerged from the darkness of the black velvet hood, brushing against the young sleeper's cold skin.

'Eliot Burbage...'

Then, she raised her arm, a gaunt, perfect hand came out of her sleeve and pushed aside a lock of hair falling on the boy's forehead.

'You're going to wake up...'

A smile broke the stranger's face before she lowered slowly her head towards the pillow in order to whisper at his ear, detaching each syllable with sensual delight:

'And you will bring me Kate Whisper...'

A blow of wind. She vanished as fast as she had appeared. As if she never existed. Silence fell again. The gloomy light ceased to flicker.
And Eliot's face remained still, sunk into his eternal sleep. Until, suddenly, his eyes opened.

Well, well, well, it's seems like it's about to get rougher for little Kate, don't you think? And this is only the beginnig!

Don't worry, you're not going to stay without answers very long (well, for some questions, not all of them...). See you next week for a whole new year!