Hellooooooo everyone! You thought I was dead? Well, you had every right to think that. First, I would like to apologize for this long-two-years-absence! I had a lot going on in my life and couldn't go back to translation. But it's okay now, I'm back and not counting on letting you down again! I'm not sure if I will manage to find as much time as before for it, but I will definitely resume translation! I managed to do this chapter in a few days because I am on holidays but I don't know how much time I can put in it when I'm going back to work. I will only have evenings and weekends so I think it will be one or two chapters a month (maybe more, it depends, but I don't want to give you false hope...). The fact is that I will sure give you chapters and you won't have to wait for two years anymore! Well... That's enough babbling and gibberish for now... Enjoy!

7. Queen Maeva.

The reconciliation between the Gryffindor girls was soon to arrive and Kate found back her old routines, without having to avoid them at each turn of a corridor. That was some weight off her shoulders. Moira kept on giving her lessons and advices on the Hogwarts lawn; which the students were deserting as the temperatures were falling, but also because it was risky to hang around during Kate's practical lessons! Suzanna, who had received a lot of films for her camera, never missed a chance to immortalise some mild moments of the day, despite the reproaches of Scarlett, who found her too invasive. As for Maggie, true to herself and her shameless character, Kate noticed that she seemed more open-minded, more smiling, but also more cynical, meaning that she was in a good mood. For both of them, their little fight weighed on their shoulders, but none of them would have admitted to the other the deep friendship they felt.

Unlike last year, Halloween's party took place without any complication or kamikazes pumpkins' attacks. Kate even started to be surprised that Morgana didn't pursued her vengeance, however, she preferred to pay attention to the tasty skewer of pumpkins topped with fudge and the ghosts choral that was putting on a show on the stage, until it degenerated into a dodge ball game between ghosts, who used one of their colleagues' head as a ball. Celebrations as she long dreamed of, in short.

November passed at incredible speed. Day after day, the sky darkened more and more. A sort of routine took place at school as winter was coming. When she wasn't practising, Kate would take the path to the library to carry on her researches she abandoned since last year on Shatterfly. Despite her studies and the book she bought, she found no lead and lost hope. From mid-November, one couldn't see Kate get on with her researches anymore… She preferred the Gryffindor Quidditch team's practices. Not because of Sam or the handsome Gareth, like the other girls in the bleachers, but to have the occasion to speak to the captain's little brother. Since Terry created awareness about her feelings about young Griffin, Kate multiplied discreet approaches, hoping the boy would notice her and come to talk to her. And so she did on this end of November day, as the wind manhandled the team and the little girl looked at Griffin's flying blonde hair as he stood in the bleachers.

'Ya know the team's practice is ahead, not asoide?'

This accent she very well knew made her jump: behind her, Eibhlin nodded without smiling.

'Eibhlin? What are you doing here?'
'I'm watching tha practice', she said as she shrugged her shoulders. 'What do ya thing I'm doing? Counting the pigeons?'
'I-I know! But… it's Gryffindors' practice! I thought you were supporting Slytherin!'
'I am. But I really appreciated Snitch's talent during last match. So I thought I could come and see how he's doing during practices.'

Kate stuttered a brief "Oh, okay" before she looked back at the players who were passing on the Quaffle, trying hard to catch it back in the powerful wind.

'I would like to become a Seeker one day', she sighed after she rejected one of her red braids behind her shoulder.
'Perhaps you will, who knows…!'
'I don't think so… Ya and I… We are special cases. Slytherin isn't mi real house. Same for ya.'

This sentence, from the mouth of an eleven year old child, shook up Kate, who linked her hands together and started to pull on her fingers.

'Even if I was a good player, I can't play for their team. But… If one day Shatterfly has its own team, that would be good!'
'I don't think it will happen', grimaced Kate as she turned towards her.
'Why not! Ya English always are so defeatists!' she exclaimed.
'Anyway, there are only three of us. We need a team of seven people…'
'Then we wait for next year, that's all!'

Eibhlin talked in a powerful and determined voice, without smiling. This strong character, coming from such a young child, amazed Kate. On the field, Gale asked for his team to gather around him in order to explain a new strategy to try.

'We know nothing?'
'What are you talking about?'
'Shatterfly.'
'Nothing', deplored Kate, a bit sad.

Both were walled in silence, many questions pushed hard on the oldest. Could it be that Eibhlin can control the Immaterial, just like her? Did she have as much difficulty as her to cast a basic curse, threatening to explode the targets with her magic formulas? However, she did not find the courage to tell her and preferred to dip back in her thoughts, in the nebulous mysteries around the fifth house… Until an event re-appeared in her memory, where she found the intervention of her latent genius. Stretching a smile filled up with hope, she spun around on her bench while Eibhlin observed and analysed Sam's movements as he was pursuing the Golden Snitch, which did not last long free.

'Tell me if I am mistaken, but… in Ireland, you have rather special family names, don't you?'
'Da best of da world, why?'
'For example, McSomething is typically Irish!'
'Aye! Why do you ask me this question, do you want to change your name into McWhisper?'
'And O'Somethin too, isn't it?' Kate continued, feeling the excitation growing in her.
'Aye. But O'Whisper sounds a lot less good than McWhisper, in my opinion…'
'O'Maëva. Does that name evoke something to you?'

Eibhlin wrinkled her russet-red eyebrows and her freckles seemed to gather on her folded nose.

'I will teach the little English girl you are an elementary thing. For us, names in "O" means "grand-son of". Or convey an idea of progeny. "O'Súilleabháin" for example, are the black eyes' grand-sons. But for you, it's just the "Sullivans". Moreover, "O'Cearbhail" is translated by "Caroll" here…'
'But what about O'Maeva?' questioned the impatient Kate, sure about the fact Eibhlin would give the key of a first mystery.
'I told ya! It's Maeva's descent!'

Kate's heart twitched: did the fact that Drane called her O'Maeva means she's her descendant? It still was necessary to know who she was, however, that did not exclude the assumption of a family bond, the first thing her professors suspected when she was sent to Shatterfly on her first day.

'Maeva… Was she a witch?'

Shocked by what she just heard, Eibhlin opened wide her hazelnut eyes.

'Ya don't know the Queen Maeva?!'

Immediately, she searched into her cape's pocket and pulled out a Chocolate Frog card which she held out to Kate. The portrait in reliefs of a lady in a purple and gold dress, was gracefully waving its hand around, as if it was casting spells. A crown was girding the lady's head, framed by the same russet-red hair as the Irish girl. Then she disappeared in a swirl of ether as she rotated. Her heart still racing in her chest, Kate turned back the card between her shaking fingers and read aloud:

'Queen Maeva is a legendary witch. She trained young wizards in Ireland before the opening of Hogwarts, school of witchcraft and wizardry.'
'The greatest witch of Ireland!' bragged Eibhlin.
'But… what if it's her?!'
'Aye, of course it's her, she the greatest!'
'No, I mean… the founder of Shatterfly!'

Eibhlin once again wrinkled her eyebrows, a serious look that was unfitted on her still chubby young girl's face.

'Why would that be her? Ya didn't even know her two minutes ago!'

Kate's excitation went down and she centred back on her thoughts. Even though that could have been the case, some elements did not match with this assumption of family bound and possible link with the past. Nor her father before her or anyone in the Whisper family hadn't been at the origin of abnormal phenomenon and her mother was as any other Muggle; without any link with the wizarding world. Unless one of her ancestors were a Squib…
Kate left the Quidditch pitch after she briefly thanked Eibhlin, without noticing she kept with her Eibhlin's Chocolate Frog card…! She dashed, unrestrained, obsessed with the truth. She wanted to know. If Queen Maeva was, indeed, responsible for all this shake-up within the school, she had to know on the instant. She ran into a far lesser joyful and blithe Filch who turned round when she passed and yelled at her, unhappy:

'Hey! Pay attention where you're going, you reckless little goblin!'

But she ignored him and headed to the dungeons. She climbed Gryffindor tower's steps and had to give the password twice for the Fat Lady to yield the passage to her as she was too short of breath to say it properly. Who had had the idea to choose "Waddiwasi" as a password for this trimester?!
She nearly bumped into a colossus sixth year who was about to leave. Kate feinted under his arm and ran towards the staircase that led to the girls' dormitory. At this time of the day, the room was empty. The girls were probably preparing their next issue of the Puffskein's echo in the Great Hall and Sir Sulkington was taking benefits of the dead leaves outside to constitute a camouflage for his rodents hunt. But the cat didn't miss to drop her SugarButterlfy Wings box she had left on her bedside table. Now the box was open and all the little butterflies were flying everywhere, spreading sugar in the room each time they beat their wings. Maggie would be thrilled to discover her caramelised pillow when she comes back!
However, Kate rushed towards her bedside table, ignoring the candies, and abruptly opened her drawer. The latter fell off and landed on her toes. She swore because of the pain and the spell she tried to ease it that failed, almost burning her sock. She picked up the open book on the floor. What a great idea she had to buy it on Diagon Alley! she thought. When she found the page about Queen Maevas'life, she devoured it. She had this crazy hope that she matched with Shatterfly's founder. She just needed proof. A tiny proof that would justify the existence of her house. Until she read that line: "Queen Maeva died before the age of forty, without progeny to carry on her knowledge and bloodline."
The mental collision was of unprecedented violence and Kate had to read it three times to integrate it, slack-jawed. No progeny, no child. Maeva couldn't be her ancestor. Maeva couldn't be the blood link the Sorting Hat talked about. She bitterly closed the book and threw it on her bed.
Back to square one…

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

Into the nebulous meanders, two big dark blue eyes like sapphires opened wide.

Kate's eyes opened just as suddenly. But hers were grey and full of fear. Catching her breath, she turned around in her bed trying to chase that dream that was coming back more and more frequently. Her heart was still racing, her forehead was wet and this voice was resounding inside her head. Like a flash of light that would bounce inside her skull, trying to find a way out.

Gropingly, she caught her watch on her bedside table and sighed in relief seeing it was already 6:58am. Going back to sleep would have meant having that nightmare again. She combed her hair as she sat on her bed, still doped up by her bad dream. Sir Sulkington, who spent the night at her feet, raised his nose when he felt the mattress was moving. His wall eyes, often contemptuous, stared at the girl for a while, standing still and looking affected. So the cat stood up on his snow-white furry paws and walked towards her to curl up between her crossed legs, without even looking at her, as if he was thinking : 'Don't think I came to comfort you, it's just warmer here'.
Touched by his behaviour, Kate petted him with a reassured smile. This was just as comforting as her mother's pendant that never leaves her, which she grabbed between her fingers. Then she looked around in the dark sleeping dormitory. In the bed facing hers, Suzanna was mumbling in her sleep :

'No… hmmmm… no… professor… it's not me… I didn't lose my homework… a giant house elf ate it…!'

Kate stood up out of her sheets after a few minutes of observation, Sir Sulkington meowing, unhappy to be ripped out of his comfort, before he jumped off the bed to roll into Maggie's clothes which she had left on the floor, covering them with white hair. The dormitory was still plunged in the dark of winter's dawn. But when Kate got close to the window, imagine her surprise as she found the roofs and towers cloaked in white and thick snowflakes falling from the sky.
The joy of innocence seized Kate's heart, who couldn't help but scream:

'It's snowing!'
'A giant house elf!'

Behind her, Suzanna woke up startled, ripped out of her nightmare, her golden curls messy around her head.

When all the girls woke up, everyone got marvelled to see snow and Maggie even didn't notice Kate's cat that had taken place on one of her sweaters, moving into the pile of clothes on the floor. They went down singing and laughing. A joy which, apparently, they shared with all the students, who only that had one word in mouth in the Great Hall where breakfast stood. The most mischievous of them had already began jokes, making small amounts of snow levitate and releasing them on their schoolmates' heads.

'Hey! Have you seen the Daily Prophet yet?!' said Moira, her nose in the newspaper.
'Knowing you're the only one to have it and we don't apply to Divination yet, I would answer no,' replied Maggie, who was in a generous mood not to call Moira "short legs".

Little Moira read the article out loud in front of her attentive friends:

"Woodswand : attractive attractions to come for witches and wizards!

In order to erase from memories the terrible damages war had left over the wizarding world, an amusement park, based on the model of our Muggle friends' ones, will open its doors in the middle of Woodswand forest this spring 2002. A first for the wizarding world!
Decision has been made yesterday during an assembly that gathered the association at the origin of this idea and the public funding officers of the Ministry. The project has been approved with by the majority, with 65 votes in favour and 12 votes against, releasing the funds the Ministry was saving for leisure.

'It is important that witches and wizards go back to their lives before all this, without fearing to go out, without apprehension for having fun with family or friends!' says Gildeon Beedon, owner of the Majtoys shop on Diagon Alley for more than twenty-five years and who is at the initiative of the group that had the idea of this amusement park. 'And we should take advantage of the technological breakthrough of our Muglle companions and build on them to find our own source of fun!'

'It's been some months since the Ministry received propositions from wizards regarding leisure, and this amusement park suggestion came just at the right time,' explains Regimus Fittle, manager of the Wizarding Culture and Leisure finances department at the Ministry of Magic. 'We save funds since May 1998 in order to be able to assure such a huge project. We were hesitating between that and the construction of a small Quidditch-themed village including a stadium, shops and accommodations for matches. However, we strive to favour originality and totally support the initiative of this amusement park.'

But this decision didn't reach unanimity among the council:

'We're not Muggles, we have a lot more pride than them and we should be separated from their ridiculous practices!' claims Selmus Nott angrily.

Woodswand forest, sadly known for its small village where half Muggles, half wizards lived until 1997, when it had been the target of Death Eaters. What an extremely powerful symbolic memorial to build a place of joy on the ruins of a war still present in each one of us today…'

'How awesome is it?' said Kate, dazzled, as she stopped eating her toast. 'Attractions for wizards!'
'You already went to Muggles amusement parks?' asked Scarlett, frowning.
'Em… No, but I heard about them!'
'What is an amusement park?' asked Suzanna, tilting her head on the side, her hair falling down her shoulders, as she didn't understand the conversation. 'Is it a place where people are pushed altogether like magnets? Is that why there are… attractions?'

Even if a majority around the table was sharing the same interrogation, Kate and Moira, the only ones who had a link with the Muggle world, couldn't help but giggle.

'No, it's a place where there are activities, funny and scary machines…' tried to explain Moira. 'There, look, they explain it all in the next article!'
'And what's the point?' said Maggie as she grabbed the Prophet to take a look.
'Have fun!'
'And you think it's funny to be scared?!'
'But you already went to an amusement park, Moira?' said Kate, surprised.
'Yes… once. With my family. It was at Blackwood, at Pleasure Beach.'

As she said that, Kate noticed that her expression went slightly afflicted.

'It was long ago' she kept on. 'But I was still so small back then that they forbid me the access to half the attractions! Such as rollercoasters…!'
'McGonagall's socks! Those Muggles are crazy!' said Suzanna, taken aback.

A growing excitement was spreading amongst the students in second year as they climbed the stairs to the second floor. For that day was the only one in the month when they could receive practical lessons from Harry Potter in Defence Against the Dark Arts. The image of Hogwarts' hero remained in many minds, but slowly, students began to consider him as a teacher, someone they could learn from, instead of an idol.

That day, big mattresses had been installed on the floor on each side of the classroom and the chairs and tables were removed. The students were stamping, trying to guess which spell they would practice on one another. Harry Potter greeted them with his usual shy but genuine smile. He wasn't wearing robes unlike any other professor, but casual clothes, just like the ones Muggles would wear. Even Neville Longbottom, who was in the same year as him, would wear adapted robes for Herbology and its dangers, especially when the Thorn-Mouths would try to grab his sleeves.

'Hello everyone!' he greeted them as he clapped his hands after a short silence. 'Well... For starters, let's choose a partner for this practical lesson. I will then explain to you today's exercise. Go ahead!'

Kate's partner was regularly changing from one class to another. Most of the time, and being her best friend, Maggie was her first choice. But the Gryffindor girls were five, and that day, it was Kate who was left behind. When it happens, she often turned to Terry but he already had chose partner from his house before Kate had the time to ask him. Without great conviction, she asked little Hyggie who had the occasion sometimes to be her partner when no one else was available. The Ravenclaw student seemed to cope with this last recourse role and Kate never pushed her away her schoolmate, on the contrary. Despite her mutism, Hygie was a brilliant and pedagogue student, helpful and of good advice when her partner was in trouble. Kate only regretted the fact that she couldn't have a proper conversation with her, except in class.

'Well. Everyone is face to face with their partners? Mister Ledger, I- yes, I would like you to stop jumping like a madman on your mattress please! Thank you. So, today, we are going to learn the Expulso curse.'

The classroom was split between approbation and disappointment.

'Don't be so sure, it's more difficult than it seems! It requires a lot of power and will to blast an opponent with magic, especially when it's a human being! And the more imposing the creature is, the more powerful your spell must be.'
'Er- professor?' asked Edgar Vince, a Ravenclaw with buck teeth, as he rose his hand. 'Can I change my partner then?'

Some students giggled while they looked at Dexter Dorxmornt, known as the tallest and most imposant of the first years. Kate was relieved she didn't have to try the curse on Terry, as he also was portly for his age.

'No, Mister Vince, you keep your partner! It will be an excellent practice! Good. Well... You can start! I will come to see each one of you if you need any advice. Then we will talk about all of this, your experience and difficulties.'

The firsts curses began. Young students found themselves projected across the room and landed on mattresses behind them. But never strongly, just enough to make them fall on their backs. The less battle-hardened merely succeeded to make their partner to falter.
Hygie, who was the first to cast the spell, succeeded at first try to project Kate backwards. She fell on the ground, breath cut. Futher, Moira, who suffered the same fate from Scarlett's wand, was cursing:

'That's unfair, I'm 3.2 feet tall!'
'Congratulations!' said Kate to her classmate who blushed and adjusted a lock of her brown hair that she had tied with wooden stick.

Then she took her own wand, faced Hygie who put away hers and prepared to receive the curse. Kate took a little time to remember the gesture to do before she pronounced the magic formula:

'Expulso!'

Immediately, a banging started at the end of her wand and projected her on her mattress, with her classmates, who didn't miss a second of it, laughing. Kate felt the shame overwhelming her as she got up, finding that Harry Potter assisted to the whole scene too. He felt pity for her and walked towards her to explain the proper gesture and the right tone to use. But Kate already knew that. It wasn't her fault, or her wand's. But because of some external factor which she could explain or define. More than shame, she felt anger taking over her feelings and thoughts.
And when Harry walked away, she threw her wand behind her, on the mattress and clenched her fists. Everything around her was nothing but chaos and source of rage. The gigglings. The mocking looks and words. When she looked up, her eyes met with Hygie's. And the fragile little girl opened her turquoise eyes wide as she understood what Kate was about to do... She barely had the time to open her thin lips with stupor, her classmate had already yelled the formula, wielding her palms forward:

'EXPULSO!'

The blast wave was so huge it swiped everything around and projectec with tremendous force little Hygie, like an insect roughed up by the storm. She crashed into the wall at the bottom of the room without even a scream before she landed on the floor, unconscious. The silence was immediate. Then the screams. Many rushed towards Hygie who wasn't moving. Harry Potter tried to keep his cool as he tried to make his way between the students and kneeled down. His pants were taking a red colour as it impregnated the blood that was slowly streaming between the tiles.
Kate was shaking hard without really understanding what just happened.
Tears started to come up as her friends came to her, in shock.

'Move!' urged Harry Potter with a bit of panic in his voice. 'I have to bring her to Madam Pomfrey! Mobilicorpus!'

They all let their teacher pass by as he ran a desperate race with the levitating body of Hygie, still unconscious, losing drops of blood behind them. Some students followed him as others stayed in the back, afraid and looking at Kate with accusing and fearful eyes.

'Is... Is she dead?' cried Phyllis Ledger in her friend Mercury's arms.
'Oh no! Don't worry! I do'nt think so...!'
'What have you done?' babbled a pale Maggie to Kate.

But she didn't answer: she burst into tears and left the classroom under the looks of the whole class. She ignored her friends who were calling her and ran a long time in the corridors. She didn't care about tripping on a step or bump into Peeves because at that moment she thought she deserved it. Kate isolated herself in some recess in a deserted corridor, curled up under the protection of a gargoyle. Her loud sobs echoed in the winter cold corridor. She didn't refrain them when she heard steps coming her way. She saw Terry with Maggie purposely slightly behind. Her friend kneeled down, facing her, his caring eyes into hers, full of tears.

'McNair was right...' she weeped as she wiped her nose with the back of her arm. 'I- I'm a monster...'

And her sobs doubled. Until Terry sat by her side and took her in his arms. Maggie joined them, more affected about what happened. But she let herself down next to them, on the opposite side of Terry's, before hugging them.

The headmistress's office didn't change one bit since the previous year when Kate had been called after her night stroll in the Restricted Area. The bookshelves were perfectly maintained, the books were stored in alphabetical order, the wood was polished and shiny. The portraits were representing ancient late headmasters sleeping inside cinnabar frames. However, they would open an eye if any out-of-the-ordinary noise occured, excluding, of course, the Sorting Hat's snorings coming from the top of a cupboard. Metal orbs were orbiting around a chandelier that was illuminating the room. Other objects were clicking inside some closed windows.

Kate took place at the exact same place as the last time she came here: in a quilted velvet chair. However she remained curled up and still, gazing at the tiles. Her thoughts were haunted by the same images, over and over: the frail and helpless Hygie, projected with such force and crashing, just like in slow motion, into the wall. Because of her. Because of her incompetence, her negligence on this more and more dangerous power.

Hygie's life wasn't in danger and the young girl was still unconscious in her bed in the Hospital Wing with multiple fractures. After a long cry in the corridors with her friends not knowing how to comfort her, Kate came by herself to see the headmistress and ask to be expelled. She deserved to be punished for what she did, she thought. And she made her mind. Kate didn't want to be a danger to anyone. If she wasn't capable of controlling magic, she didn't have her place in Hogwarts. Those words, pronounced with provocation by Wolffhart last year were echoing in her like a cruel truth.

That's how Kate found herself in McGonagall's office, who let her wait here. The young girl looked like she was waiting for the moment where she would be told to go back home. Those dark thoughts were so powerful, she felt like she was unworthy of being a witch. After she saw all the dark things magic was capable of during war, yes, she felt like she was evil...
The door opened and the headmistress appeared with her stern look a bit more tensed than usual. She wasn't wearing her green hat, but black robes and her hair was tied in a tight bun. Kate raised her head and saw McGonagall was followed by Harry Potter, still troubled about what happened in his classroom, but also by her house of adoption's head, Neville Longbottom and, by her biggest surprise, the professor Wolffhart. Even though the two young teachers were tall, they seemed like they were small compared to his important filiform size. He granted Kate a brief, meaningful look, black circles around his eyes contrasting with his pale skin. The little girl shuddered.

'Stay sit, Miss Whisper', ordered McGonagall as Kate shakily stood up from her chair.

Then, with a move of her wrist, she summoned four chairs – one for each professor – around Kate. McGonagall was facing her, straight and stark, surrounded by two former classmates, a bit more anxious, as Wolffhart took place slightly in the back, his hands crossed and resting on his knees, also crossed, uncovering his shiny leather pointed shoes under his pants. They were impressive by their size.
A long silence took place and Kate looked down and immersed herserlf in her dark thoughts again as the teachers looked at each other in order to know who would speak first.

'How do you feel, Miss Whisper?' asked Neville, bending forward, looking compassionate.

An immediate hollow smile stretched in the corner of Kate's lips. If she wanted to be as cynical as her father, she would have said she felt so happy and enthusiastic she could step into a waltz with a gnome. She showed herself more honnest however and mumbled:

'Bad...'
'What happened in class upsets you as much as us, I think', explained Harry.
'I hurt a friend... It's worse...'
'Miss Whisper, we agree what you did was serious', said McGonagall. 'But you had no intention to cause any harm to Miss Smethwyck, hadn't you?'

Kate kept a short silence.

'I- I wanted to perform the spell!'
'And you didn't use your wand...'

Wolffhart's sentence, half interrogative and pronounced in a throat voice made all eyes converge upon him. Kate swallowed as she understood the reason he was here: he was the only one to share her secret about the Immaterial. It was him who told her about it, him who witnessed her exploits. Neither Neville or Harry seemed to be aware:

'Yet, I saw you with your wand Miss Whisper', stammered Harry, astounded. 'You certainly used it!'

But Kate's silence spoke for itself. McGonagall, who didn't seem to be surprised by this, turned to her Transfiguration colleague, looking troubled.

'You say this and yet you weren't there, Wilhem, how could you be so certain?'
'Fräulein Whisper showed me her gift several times.'
'Her... gift?' she repeated a she didn't quite understand the meaning.

And so, Wolffhart's sinister eyes looked at Kate again as she tried to refrain her shakings.

'Könnten Sie? Fräulein Whisper? Show us what you can do? Just like you showed me last year? Bitte?'

His voice was authoritative and yet soothing, trying to win her trust despite the context. Kate swallowed and replaced herself in her seat as the others looked at her. Then, she rose her hand in front of her and, with a move of her wrist and fingers, she summoned a beautiful white and evanescent butterfly from the surface of her skin and let it fly in the room before it landed on the Sorting Hat that was still snoring dust. Neville Longbottom, dazed, asked the same question Kate asked when she understood the singularity of this:

'Is it a Patronus?!'
'Nein, not really', explained Wolffhart in a louder and theatrical voice. 'But it's the same king of magic! Immaterial!'
'You knew about it, Wilhem, since months!' said McGonagall, shocked. 'Why didn't you tell me? It's a very serious situation!'
'I hear you, Minerva', he said in the same tone as her, 'but I thought Fräulein Whisper would be more capable of controlling it. I didn't want to make her a freak, glauben Sie nicht? Don't you think it completely would have destabilized her learning?'

Destabilized, Kate sure was! And now her Transfiguration teacher was defending her in front of three other teachers, headmistress included.

'Even if I had the firm conviction her powers would persist, it didn't yet showed in all the disciplines of magic', he went on. 'It seemed to be dormant and I thought Fräulein Whisper's trainings would have ended on a positive evolution.'
'And see where we are now, Wilhem!' said McGonagall in pinched voice as she contained her acrimony. 'We now have a student in the Hospital Wing for serious injuries! We wouldn't have been there if only you had told me about this!'
'Ja, I grant you that, the blame is mine to take and I shoulder the entire responsibility', he answered in a lower voice as he bent, giving him a less fearsome look. 'Jedoch, it would be better not to involve Fräulein Whisper in an overtaking situation for her, that would only add more worries in her already worried mind. Can I remind you that Fräulein is the heir of a house that only exists in the confabulations going around for more than a year now because of your... Hut that has turned crazy over the centuries?'

What was that whimsical point?! Kate couldn't breathe properly, her wind knocked out and her back sticking to the back of her chair.

'You can understand that, Herr Potter', said Wolffhart. 'Celebrity can be a burden sometimes...'
'Of course', he answered as he bent forward, his elbows on his knees, before readjustin his glasses. 'But my situation was nothing like with Miss Whisper's.'

As expected at this moment of the conversation, Wolffhart opted for provocation:

'Oh, really?' he asked in a smooth voice that didn't fit his strong accent. 'Yet it seems to me that many died in your name not so long ago, when your war was still raging... What is it compared to Fräulein Whisper's blunder...!'

If Harry had no reaction, however, it was Neville Longbottom who stood up, knocking over his chair, a palpable rage in his looks and powerful voice.

'Harry saved us all! The wizarding world is still standing today thanks to him! How dare you speak about the deads like...'
'Neville, sit down! Now!' ordered McGonagall, hurt too by what their colleague just said, as she looked at him with threatening eyes.

The argue was such that tears began to merge in Kate's eyes, impressed by the turn of the situation. After he had addressed Wolffhart a dark look, Neville sat back, still angry, his fist tight upon the armrest.

'Miss Whisper', resumed the headmistress, still upset. 'Professor Wolffhart told you about your... gift last year, right?'
'Y- Yes professor...'
'Were you conscious about what it meant?'
'I don't think, professor. I mean, not to this point...'

Teachers sighed altogether.

'I seem to be able to control that for a long time... or at least, to provoke it', she explained.
'Did that kind of situation already happen in the past?' Harry asked his superior, interested.
'Not that I know of... Miss Whisper's case is unique.'
'That's how magic showed itself to you, you told me', resumed Wolffhart, frowning his thick eyebrows above his piercing eyes.

The little girl nodded wildly, refraining her sobs of fear.

'I didn't want this to happen that way... I didn't mean to hurt her! B- But- But I-'

She squeezed her fists on her thighs, wrinkling her winter skirt.

'If- If I am to be expelled... I- I'll understand.'
'There's no way we're considering an expulsion, Miss Whisper', said McGonagall, barely moving her thin lips.

A ray of light seemed to lighten up Kate's thoughts. She saw a new hope, a second chance. However, she was sticking to the facts, pragmatic:

'But- But I hurt Hygie! I could hurt her again! I'm dangerous!'
'Now you're aware of that, you'll be more careful...'

Then she turned towards Wolffhart and added:

'No one will support you in this practice that could turn out to be, as you so well said, dangerous. From now on, you will always use your wand. If one of your teachers sees you practicing your... gift without your wand, I will personally apply the fitting punishment.'

Immediately, Kate nodded very fast, as she refused to not take this second chance. Then, the headmistress, satisfied of this deal, talked to her colleagues:

'I expect from you complete cooperation. You will report to me any incident about Miss Whisper and this... gift.'
'Yes, professor.'

Everybody stood up after McGonagall did. Kate was the last to do so, impressed by all these adults in front of her.

'Go back to your dormitory, Miss Whisper', said Neville as he grabbed her shoulder. 'That's enough emotions for you for today.'

They both walked out of the room, followed by Harry who waved goodbye to the headmistress.

'Except you, Wilhem', called out McGonagall as he was about to walk out too.

He sighed and stopped his pace in front of the exit before turning back towards her, looking down and a look of gloom in his eyes. They shared a silent conversation before Wolffhart walked back to her, his hands behind his back, straightening his immense silhouette. McGonagall wasn't impressed at all.

'What is this madness...! Supporting her in this risky venture without considering the consequences. I could fire you for your recklessness, Wilhem, adding other justifications such as using spells on students, your arbitrary angers and offensive language, even though no one here seems to understand them.'
'Aber you won't, Minerva', he objected in a hoarse voice.
'Give me just one good reason not to.'
'You will never find a Transfiguration teacher as good as I am... except yourself, natürlich.'

McGonagall's face froze before she granted him that point:

'Admittedly, Wilhem, you surely are one of the most skilled wizard of this century, but your glibness hardly serves your interest. Your old age and past experience should transpire in your acts, shouldn't they? Is this what we must expect from the great explorer you were? From the Silberfalkens' interests you used to serve and the exploits you accomplished for them? From the Whinagemot [1] where you used to wear your lawyer robes?'

Wolffhart didn't answer, emotionless. There was a silence before McGonagall resumed:

'You shouldn't have encouraged her, knowing the danger she was representing for other students.'
'How could I know that would happen, Ihrer Mienung nach?'

The headmistress took her wand, turned to her desk and with a swift move, a parchment levitated towards them before she held it out to her colleague.

'This is a lettre signed by Mister Whisper, Miss Whisper's father. It was sent to me a few days before she entered Hogwarts last year, before the Hat declared a new house.'

Hiding his suspicion, Wolffhart opened it and read it. Three wrinkles appeared on his forehead in the course, under McGonagall's attentive look.

'Warum? Why didn't you warn me?'

A fourth wrinkle shuddered over his frowned eyebrows.

'The mistake is mine, I grant you that, but I couldn't take the risk to spread false rumors.'
'Rumors?! Nothing could be more serious than that and you didn't tell me about the importance of Fräulein Whisper's powers!'
'You would have been influenced, Wilhem! Your teaching wouldn't have been the same.'
'Ja, I admit it...'

A new silence took place, as Wolffhart folded the letter and gave it back to McGonagall. His eyes down, he resumed:

'I admit I wouldn't have acted the same with her, haben Sie völlig Recht. However, you're wrong about one thing...'
'Which is?'
'I would have encouraged her even more', he said bending towards her before he stepped back.

McGonagall was so shocked she stayed slack-jawed.

'You're mad, Wilhem!' she exclaimed. 'Completely mad!'

On these words, he took off his red kerchief and waved it in a large reverence before he left the room with a wide smile, so rare on his face it was dantesque:

'Zu Schmetterlingschatten Ehre! [2]

[1] In this fanfiction, the Whinagemot is a council the author invented based on the terms that inspired JK Rowling for the Wizengamot. The Witenagemot is the High Court of Judges in a European level that continues since the 13th century but it lost its influence with the cleavage of magic territories on the United-Kingdom's first war provoked by Voldemort at the end of 70s.

[2] Litterally translated, it means : to Shatterfly's honour.