2nd September

"I want to talk to you about Draco." Was the first thing Harry said to me as I arrived in the Common Room this morning.

"Harry, please, we've exhausted this conversation." Hermione grumbled, having been downstairs before me, the three were waiting for me before going down to breakfast.

"Yes, but Kathryn is related to him and has both seen him this summer and talked to him and she also has the ability to find out for us."

"What am I doing now?" I felt like I had entered the conversation late.

"I talked to Mr Weasley on the platform, I told him about our suspicions."

"Your suspicions, Harry, not ours." Hermione added.

I urged Harry to continue, "So I'm sure you know the three of us left Fred and George's shop, and followed Draco to Borgin and Burkes -"

Hermione sighed audibly. Ron yawned. I looked at him blankly, "I've kinda been living in a different -"

"I can't believe you haven't discussed this with her, Harry." Hermione rolled her eyes, "It is her family you're talking about, accusing of stupid things."

I looked to Harry, "Talk to me."

"So we stood outside Borgin and Burkes and saw Draco inside, he was bullying the bloke in there, trying to get him to fix something and to keep something else for him. He made it sound like it had a pair."

"You are aware that could literally be anything, right?"

"Yeah, but when we were in Madam Mulkin's, she tried to touch his left arm. I think he's been branded with the Dark Mark. I think he's replaced his father as a Death Eater." Harry then searched my face for a reaction.

I nodded.

"Surely you can't be serious, Kathryn!" Ron and Hermione began to argue, for once, as a joint effort, "You're just feeding into this idea of his, that he hasn't been able to let go!"

Harry ignored them, his attention directed onto me, "What do you know?"

"I couldn't help but wonder the same thing…" I pondered, "And Narcissa has been really protective… Of both me and Draco."

"D'you think you'd be able to find out?"

My eyes widened, "Oh aye, sure, Harry. I'll just go up to him and say 'Hey Draco, just wondering if you've become a Death Eater?' I'm sure that'd go down like a house on fire."

Harry blinked.

"Don't deny it, that's what you had in mind." I raised an eyebrow, "He's my cousin, we get on, but that's not something you want to admit to the girl who's best friends with Harry Potter and hangs around with the Order of the Phoenix." I then rephrased, "That would be him admitting it to a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

Harry's jaw dropped, Ron and Hermione shared a look in shock.

"Guess I forgot to tell you guys," I said, "I thought you'd have guessed, based on the fact that I was allowed into that meeting?" I decided to hold back the information about the parchment I can use to communicate with the Order. They don't tend to use it that often, which means they have another way to communicate, but realistically, they can't risk someone knowing everything. Especially Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter. That seems to be biting me in the arse a lot these days.

"Anything else you've conveniently forgotten to tell us?"

I shrugged, "I'm sure something of use will escape my lips at some point." I then said, "Like the fact that I'm expected to sign up to be a Death Eater in four days."

"Yeah, but you're not going to do it, are you?"

"Well, figuratively, maybe." I said, "Gotta keep motherkins on my side. I mean, gotta stay alive as long as I can, you know. I've discussed it with the Order, I still don't know what I'm going to do, but I'm terrified that if I say no to Bellatrix, that something really bad will happen."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed, "Like what?"

"Well, my last letter from her told me that I didn't want to know what would happen if I said no." I shrugged my shoulders, "Which probably means they'll come here and kill me, or find someone who'll do it for them. My betting is on Snape; he's been dying to hurt me from the day -"

"She wouldn't kill you, she's your mother!" Hermione uttered.

I scrunched my face up, "You've met my mother!" I said slowly as if I was responding to the world's most stupid question, "Both of them, actually! Or do you not recall what Bellatrix Lestrange has done or what she's capable of?" a shiver ran down my spine.

She went pink.

"She was just trying to be positive."

"No, Ron, she was being an idiot. I know you both have loving parents, but I don't, and you will never understand what it feels like – the constant threat, the pain, the suffering, the neglect. You don't have a clue." I turned to Harry, "I'm pretty sure he's an actual Death Eater and based on the fact that he didn't patrol the train and he hasn't come to annoy you or looked anywhere near me, I'm guessing something's up and he doesn't want me knowing."

"Are you both witnessing this?" Harry glared at Ron and Hermione, "This is a productive conversation."

In return we both got a whole load of eye-rollage and tuts. But Harry and I have a lot in common and we often thought along similar wavelengths.

"I'm off to get breakfast." Hermione quickly disappeared. Ron also made his excuses and left Harry and me to it.

"Do you think I annoyed them?"

Harry smirked, "What gives you that impression?"

We looked at each other and smiled. He always understood me in a way that George never did or could, "Shall we get some breakfast?" I asked him, grabbing my new satchel, before climbing out of the portrait door.

"Thanks again for sending Tonks in my direction." He said as we stood on a moving staircase.

"She was already looking out for you." I said, "But I had to make sure you got here alive. I also hope she told you how much of an idiot you were."

Harry shrugged, "She still looks as miserable as she has all summer."

"I know." I said, "There's very little any of us can do to help."

"So what if he's thinking he won't be back at Hogwarts because he won't be invited back?" Harry asked, the conversation going in a full circle, back to the topic that rested most heavily on his mind, "Or what if Voldemort has something planned?"

"We will deal with that issue should it arise." I told him, catching onto his train of thought, "For now, I think I'll try and gauge the situation with him… I still don't know where I stand with him, on a public appearances level."

Harry and I sat down opposite where Ron and Hermione were desperately trying to ignore us, "But you must have some clue… You and Mrs Malfoy?"

I nodded, "Oh yeah, Cissa and I are on good terms, either that or she is manipulating me to the nth degree. I mean, I believe she wants me alive. There's something going on with her with regards to me that I just don't understand, or haven't been let into the loop about." I served myself some toast and some rashers of bacon and made myself a sandwich, "The whole vibe of Malfoy Manor changed when I was there. Something happened and both Narcissa and Draco pushed me out the front door faster than my mother could introduce me to the Dark Lord."

"Do you think that was when Draco was -?"

I pursed my lips as I thought, "Maybe? All I know is that Bellatrix was delighted and both Draco and Cissa were not."

"Uhm… Kathryn?" Hermione interjected.

"Yes, you may join into our conversation."

Ron pointed warily at the peck of owls that had landed beside me, "You have mail."

I took a deep breath and sighed, taking the letters from the beaks of a number of owls and throwing them onto the table in front of me. Far too many eyes were watching me and their curiosity reeked. Ron tried to help retrieve some of the envelopes, but they wouldn't let him.

I sat down and opened the first letter, which after reading the profanities, I promptly discarded, by rolling it in a ball and chucking it into the fireplace, along with the next letter and the next and the following one after that. "What's all this?" Neville sat down beside me.

I handed him a letter, "My hate mail."

"YoU dEsErVe To DiE, yOu UgLy BiTcH."

"You – You've been getting mail like this from after the article?" Neville was flabbergasted, "That's awful!"

"That's nothing," I said simply, "There's been a lot worse – ah, take this one for example."

Neville dropped the letter as though it burnt him, "That's – Kathryn, that's awful – who would dare – they want to see her blood spurted over the walls of this castle, they want to her screams in pain as she dies, the want nothing more than to give her the most painful and horrific death possible."

"That's more like it." I nodded, "The devil is in the detail. These people do love a good fantasy." I scrunched up another letter and chucked it into the fire.

Neville simply stared at me, "How? How can you be so calm about this?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "I've been getting death threats for as long as I can remember." I then opened an envelope which had very familiar handwriting on, and the fact that the person wrote 'Katy', sort of gives the sender away.

My beautiful Katy,
I have spoken to Cissie about your recent conversation from seeing her in London. I have decided to forgive you with regards to choosing not to meet with me. Cissie explained how I over-reacted and I should respect your decision, you were, after all still dealing with the shock of everything that has happened in the last number of weeks. It can't have been easy for you to learn of having a family you know very little about. I want to get to know you and we'll be able to do that as we work together. I can't believe my baby girl is turning seventeen in the next few days.
I hope your first day back at Hogwarts is good. What subjects have you chosen to study to N.E.W.T. level?
Longing to hear back from you,
Your loving mother,
Bellatrix

I slipped the letter into my pocket, to be dealt with at a later time. I didn't even know what to reply, and if I should lie or not. I should probably talk to Draco. Neville gave me a curious look, which I tried my best to ignore. I didn't know how he'd feel about me writing to my mother, he seemed shocked to know I'd been in contact with her.

"I love being a sixth year," Ron said from across the table, distracting me from my train of thought, "We're going to be getting free time this year. Whole periods when we can just sit and relax!"

"We're going to need that time for studying, Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"Yeah, but not today," Ron said, "today's going to be a real doss, I reckon."

I flicked my hair dramatically, "Plenty of time to drink coffee and chat about our feelings."

Ron pulled a face. He then followed that by swallowing an entire fried egg, whole. Charming.

I kept reading through all my mail as we waited for McGonagall to distribute our timetables for the year. I just prayed that we didn't have Snape first thing on a Monday or last thing on a Friday. As McGonagall made her way up the table, she immediately cleared Hermione to study Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Potions. She ran off to her first period Ancient Runes class without further ado.

"Herbology, fine," McGonagall said to Neville, "Professor Sprout will be delighted to see you back with an 'Outstanding' O.W.L. And you qualify for Defence Against the Dark Arts with 'Exceeds Expectations'. But the problem is Transfiguration. I'm sorry, Longbottom, but an 'Acceptable' really isn't good enough to continue to N.E.W.T. level, I just don't think you'd be able to cope with the coursework."

Neville hung his head. I tried not to listen in, but it was difficult with him being directly beside me. I felt bad for him, he's talented, but lacks the confidence to do well. I continued opening mail listening in as McGonagall said, "Why do you want to continue with Transfiguration, anyway? I never had the impression that you particularly enjoyed it."

Neville mumbled something that sounded a lot like, my grandmother wants.

"Humph." McGonagall snorted, "It's high time your grandmother learned to be proud of the grandson she's got, rather than the one she thinks she ought to have – particularly after what happened at the Ministry."

Neville blushed, he had never been given a compliment by Professor McGonagall before. I gave him a nudge and a smile.

"Why not try for a N.E.W.T. in Charms? I see you have an 'Exceeds Expectations' at O.W.L.?"

"My grandmother thinks Charms is a soft option." Neville muttered.

"Take Charms," McGonagall said, "and I shall drop Augusta a line reminding her that just because she failed her charms O.W.L., the subject is not necessarily worthless."

Neville wore an expression of incredulity as McGonagall tapped his timetable and moved onto me, "Miss Pink, which classes do you wish to take?"

"I'll do Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology and Muggle Studies, if there's enough of us?"

McGonagall nodded, "Professor Burbage is happy to run a N.E.W.T. class this year. You will notice on your timetable that Monday mornings are scheduled for a free period, but Professor Burbage often arranges drop-in classes during that time." She looked down at her notes, "Did you receive my letter about Alchemy?"

"What letter?" I asked, thinking back, "If you sent it since the article, it's probably been lost, intercepted or destroyed. A lot of my mail has mysteriously disappeared recently."

She pursed her lips, "The class won't be due to start until next week… All those interested in taking Alchemy are attending a meeting at lunchtime today, my office. Will I see you there?"

"Of course." I nodded, "Erm, Professor?"

"Yes?"

I reached forward and handed McGonagall a letter, "I've been giving the letters with poisons, potions and interesting liquids to Tonks to dispose of safely, can I -"

"Indeed." She took the letter between finger and thumb and set it down gently on the table in front of her as she settled both Harry and Ron's timetables. I assumed that, based on the fact they hadn't expressed much interest in continuing studies in Divination or Care of Magical Creatures, that we'd be free together first thing, "Common room?" I questioned.

"It's our Hermione-free time of the week!" Ron beamed, punching the air, "No one to tell us to do work!"

"Whooo!" I joked, as we climbed into the Common Room together, "Lazy Monday mornings!" Half a dozen seventh years were in here, too, including, "Katie Bell!" I pointed finger guns at her.

She jumped up, "The other Katy Belle!" she jested, "How are you?"

"I'm good!" I smiled, "how are you? Good timetable?"

"My timetable is great this year!" she rubbed her hands together before saying to Harry, "I thought you'd get that," she indicated his new Quidditch Captain badge, "Well done! Tell me when you call trials!"

"Don't be stupid," Harry said, "You don't need to try out, I've watched you play for five years."

She warned, "Don't start off like that, for all you know, there's someone much better than me out there. Good teams have been ruined before now because captains just kept playing the old faces, or letting in their friends…"

"Sound advice!" I said, now sitting in a comfy seat near Katie's. Ron started playing with one of Fred and George's products, a fanged Frisbee, which, no doubt, Hermione had confiscated from someone earlier. I put on a little bit of music, with the enthusiastic permission from the rest of the people in here as I got a good catch up with Katie, trying to forget the letters from this morning.

Unfortunately, the hour passed immensely quickly, and even though I got to write a quick update to George, I felt like I hadn't been overly productive. Harry, Ron and I made our way from the bright common room to our first lesson of the term, DADA with Snape. This is going to be eventful.

Hermione was already queueing outside as we arrived, and she was carrying an armful of heavy books and looked put-out, "We got so much homework for Runes, a fifteen-inch essay, two translations and I've got to read these by Wednesday!"

"Shame." Ron yawned.

"You wait," she spoke resentfully, "I bet Snape gives us loads."

The classroom door opened and out walked Snape, "Inside," he said in his usual grumpy voice, and as we walked into his classroom, which had been decorated according to his personality: depressing, dark and gloomy. The pictures on the walls showed images of people who appeared to be in pain, sporting injuries and under the Cruciatus curse. Lovely. Ron and Harry, both took it upon themselves to lumber me with the angst-filled Hermione.

"I have not asked you to take out your books."

I sat up straight again, the desk in front of me left empty. If we hadn't bothered to take our books out, we'd be the worst people in the world for it, too.

"I wish to speak to you and I want your fullest attention." Snape's black eyes scoured the room, waiting for everyone's eyes to be on him, "You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe." Like you wouldn't know. Like you haven't been waiting to get this job. "Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities. Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced."

Snape started walking around the classroom, expecting us to crane our necks to see him, "The Dark Arts, are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."

Snape was undoubtedly staring at Harry, who was sitting just across from me in the parallel row, "Your defences," he continued, "must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the Arts you seek to undo. These pictures," He indicated at the pain pictures hanging on his classroom walls, referring to three in particular, "give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse, feel the Dementor's Kiss, or provoke the aggression of the Inferius."

"Has an Inferius been seen, then?" Parvati asked in a high pitched voice, "Is it definite, is he using them?"

"The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past, which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again. Now…" he set off towards his own desk, "you are, I believe, complete novices in the use of non-verbal spells. What is the advantage of a non-verbal spell?"

I closed my eyes, knowing that Hermione had just shot her hand up. Sometimes I wish she would just not. Snape looked around the room, for anyone, anyone else but gave up and she said, "Your adversary has no warning about what kind of magic you're about to perform, which gives you a spilt second advantage."

"An answer copied almost word for word from The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6," Snape said dismissively, pretty sure I also heard Draco laugh, "but correct in the essentials. Yes, those who progress to using magic without shouting incantations gain an element of surprise in their spell-casting. Not all wizards can do this, of course; it is a question of concentration and mind power which some," his eyes fell upon Harry again, "lack."

"You will now divide into pairs. One partner will attempt to jinx the other without speaking. The other will attempt to repel the jinx in equal silence. Carry on."

Hermione looked at me with a smile, "Let's go over here." She took me by the arm and dragged me over to the corner, where we could practice in relative peace. "Shall I attempt to jinx you first?" she smirked, we were going to treat this quite like a game.

"Bring it, Granger." I smirked back and stood a number of metres back, poised, ready to repel anything that came my way. I spent the first minute trying to free my mind of everything else, and then consumed myself with the idea of repelling a jinx, I imagined myself using the 'protego' shield charm and stared very carefully into Hermione's eyes.

After ten minutes of intense staring between the two of us, Hermione managed to jinx me and I flew across the room like an idiot, "F*ck sake." I muttered under my breath, as I stood up in between Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini a few metres away from where I had been before. In anger, I pointed my wand at her and non-verbally I thought "Flipendo". I'm not joking. She fell over. Right there and then.

I stood on the spot between Nott and Zabini in a state of shock as Hermione got up onto her feet again. Theodore Nott was staring at me as I zoned back onto earth again. "That was -" and he stopped himself from speaking further. I took that as my que to leave.

"You got me on the first go." Hermione stated, "Did you whisper it?"

I shook my head, "I was pissed off, so I reacted, sorry -"

Hermione shrugged, obviously disappointed that she couldn't repel my jinx. As we were about to practice some more, we noticed that Snape was lingering close to Harry and Ron who were partnered up at the other side of the room. Ron was purple in the face, lips tightly compressed to save himself the temptation of muttering the incantation.

"Pathetic, Weasley." Snape said after a while, "Here – let me show you -"

Snape turned his wand on Harry so fast that harry reacted instinctively; all thought of non-verbal spells forgotten he yelled, "Protego!"

His shield charm was so strong, Snape was knocked off-balance and hit a desk. The whole class looked around and watched as Snape righted himself, scowling, "Do you remember me telling you we are practising non-verbal spells, Potter?"

"Yes." said Harry stiffly.

"Yes sir."

"There's no need to call me 'sir', Professor."

I choked on my own saliva. Hermione gasped, along with half of the class.

"Detention, Saturday night, my office," Snape said, "I do not take cheek from anyone, Potter… not even the Chosen One."

Hermione and I shared a glance, one that said, he totally deserved it, but that was pure gold. I desperately wanted to perform some non-verbal magic, to jinx Snape from behind, but I wouldn't dare. He'd have me in detention for a month, like he had done before. I wouldn't put it past him to do it again. Instead, Hermione and I tried duelling each other, with varying degrees of success, using jinxes that weren't designed to have us falling over or flying across the room.

It was only at the end of our class that we dared to talk to Ron and Harry, "That was brilliant, Harry!" I overheard Ron say as he clapped his best friend on his back.

"You really shouldn't have said it," Hermione frowned at Ron, "What made you?"

"He tried to jinx me, in case you didn't notice!" Harry was fuming, "I had enough of that during those Occlumency lessons! Why doesn't he use another guinea pig for a change? What's Dumbledore playing at, anyway, letting him teach Defence?"

"Haven't you considered that Snape teaching us how to do non-verbal magic is a good thing, and will benefit us if we have to, you know, come face to face with Voldemort again?" I said.

Harry scowled, "Don't you stand up for him." He turned to include the other two, "Did you hear him talking about the Dark Arts? He loves them! All that unfixed, indestructible stuff."

"Well," Hermione said, "I thought he sounded a bit like you."

"Like me?"

"Yes, when you're telling us what it's like to face Voldemort. You said it wasn't just memorising a bunch of spells, you said it was just you and your brains and your guts – well, wasn't that was Snape was saying? That it really comes down to being brave and quick thinking?"

Harry didn't say anything in response. It was as we made it up the staircase towards the Gryffindor Common Room that we saw Jack Sloper, one of the Beaters who took over from Fred and George last year when they got their ban-for-life from Umbridge.

"For you," he said, handing Harry a role of parchment, "Listen, I heard you're the new Captain. When're you holding trials?"

"I'm not sure yet," Harry said, "I'll let you know."

"Oh, right. I was hoping it'd be this weekend -"

But Harry stopped listening to him, climbing in through the portrait, opening the piece of parchment eagerly, I read over his shoulder.

Dear Harry,
I would like to start our private lessons this Saturday.
Kindly come along to my office at eight p.m. I hope you are enjoying your first day back at school.
Yours sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
P.S. I enjoy Acid Pops.

"Ha! Snape's not going to be pleased… I won't be able to do his detention!" Harry said in a low voice, aware that he was being listened to.

We spend the entirety of our break speculating over what Dumbledore might have planned for Harry's first lesson. The majority consensus was that he would teach Harry, in some way, to defend himself. Ron suggested that it might be some spectacular jinxes. Hermione thought that the sort he had in mind were probably illegal. Hermione then suggested that Dumbledore might teach him advanced defensive magic. But I thought that, chances were, Dumbledore would teach him techniques based on Voldemort's strengths and weaknesses. From what I witnessed in the Department of Mysteries, I knew I wouldn't stand a chance.

Hermione went to her Arithmancy class and I had my second free period of the day. I know, in time, I'll be super grateful for this time, but I was stuck with Harry and Ron doing our DADA homework and they were being super trying of my patience. They just get an idea stuck in their heads and they muck about like three year olds.

"This is so difficult." Ron moaned.

"Kathryn…" Harry enquired across the table, "You're writing stuff…"

I glanced up from my work and said, "I am, yes."

"Fancy sharing…?"

Again, I looked up and said, "What have you two got and we can compare?"

"Well, we have the definition of non-verbal spells from the textbook." Ron said.

Harry added, "And we have the first line -"

I passed the book I had been using across the table, "There's a whole chapter on the etymology of non-verbal spells. I've finished with it."

"The what?"

"Read the book." I tapped it with my quill, "I'm going to the library to grab another book, then I've got a meeting with McGonagall at lunch, you'll tell Hermione?"

"Hm?" they both looked up at me as I stood, "Oh, yeah." They said, "Bye."

"Hi Professor!" I said chirpily as I walked into Professor McGonagall's office, an area of the castle I was very familiar with, "Hi!" I greeted the other 5 individuals cramped around the desk.

I took the seat to McGonagall's left, taking a look at the five other males in the room, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy. If you ever wanted to feel awkward with a bunch of hormonal teenage boys in a cramped room, this would be the situation you'd put yourself in.

"Now that we're all here," McGonagall started, "you have shown interest in beginning a N.E.W.T -"

"Excuse me, Professor McGonagall, I'm not interested in being in such an intimate class with her." Zacharias Smith glared in my direction.

I shrugged my shoulders, "Well the door is right there." I pointed.

"Mr Smith, sit down," McGonagall spoke, "and learn a little respect."

"But -"

McGonagall shot him a look, before continuing, "You have all shown interest in beginning a N.E.W.T. in Alchemy. Each year students are hand-picked by teachers according to their suitability for the subject – we expect students to have a good set of O.W.L. results, a proven track record for self-directed learning and a chosen career path that Alchemy will complement." She paused, assuring she had the attention of all six of us before continuing, "Mr Junis works as an Alchemist and has strong connections to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He has kindly agreed to teach your class this year, if there is sufficient interest."

"What sort of topics would we be studying?" I asked, ignoring the staring eyes.

McGonagall's eyes fell upon mine, "I believe you missed the pamphlet." She handed me a black coloured leaflet and I immediately opened it. My eyes scouring the list of topics – the history of alchemy, famous alchemists, alchemy today… "Mr Junis will be here at Hogwarts during the period after lunch today for a taster session, I expect you all to be there." She paused, "Yes, that includes you, Mr Smith."

I dared look across the room and found two pairs of eyes looking me up and down. I realised my robes weren't covering my legs and I just let them gaze in wonder. My eyes fell upon Draco, who appeared distracted, his mind a million miles away, I didn't blame him, he's probably had as rough a summer as I did. I gave him a small smile as he stood to leave, which he reciprocated, but he hurried away, avoiding me.

"Miss Pink?"

"Hm?" I turned to McGonagall, "Oh, sorry…" I picked up my bag and stood.

"I was actually going to suggest we have lunch together? Instead of meeting after classes?"

I sat back down again, "That sounds lovely." I nodded, taking my seat again at the left hand side of her desk. With a flick of her wand, the other chairs disappeared. Another flick saw soup, sandwiches and tea on the table in front of me.

"I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you."

My hand, which was in mid reach towards a sandwich hung stunned in mid-air, "What for?"

"You helped save my life at the end of last term." She said, "I never got the opportunity to thank you properly."

I waved my hand around, "There's no need to thank me, Professor. I did what anyone else would do. Besides, you've done more than enough for me." The vegetable soup was delicious.

"I believe it to have been over and above the role of a student," McGonagall said, "especially when you came to check on me, it meant a great deal to me."

I nodded, "But as you've said before, I'm more than just any old student." I raised my eyebrows jokingly, "I make sure you well and truly earn your living."

McGonagall smiled, "My husband would have liked you."

I nearly spat out my soup, "You were married?"

"Yes," she said, "Elphinstone Urquart, he was a number of years older than me, proposed far too many times, we had three wonderful years together before he died as a result of a Venomous Tentacula bite. We never had any children."

"Oh… I'm really sorry to hear that…" I said, "He must have been quite someone to have whisked you off your feet."

McGonagall nodded, her demeanour had changed and softened, she mustn't have talked about him much, "He was a senior in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, we married when he retired, we had a lovely little cottage together in Hogsmeade." She paused, "I worked under him when I left Hogwarts, but I missed Scotland too much and returned to teach at Hogwarts."

"What changed then, that you finally accepted his proposal?" I asked, trying not to overstep the mark.

"The man I wanted to marry, but couldn't because he was a muggle, died." She stated as though matter of fact, "Marrying him would have meant I would have to live like my mother, who married my muggle father, I'd have to give up magic and I couldn't, I had too many ambitions in the Wizarding World."

"I can understand that," I nodded, marrying a muggle would be complicated, having to hide your magic, making sure that that you weren't 'found out', breaking the International Statute of Secrecy. It was hard enough having to explain that I was selected to go to a boarding school in Scotland to my family, and they didn't even care about me.

McGonagall leaned forwards, "Where did you drift off to?"

I shook my head, clearing my mind, "I was just putting myself in your shoes, wondering what it would be like to make such a decision. Do you regret it?"

She shook her head, "I know I wouldn't have been happy. Or perhaps a better word would be content." She sat back with her cup of tea, seeming pensive. This is surely one of the weirdest conversations I've had recently. I wondered why she had chosen me and why she had chosen now of all times to share such details when she said quietly, "I'm sorry for putting this all on you, today is the 11th anniversary of his death. I've told someone about him every year from his passing."

"It's been lovely to hear about him." I said, unsure of what was the correct thing to say, "Thank you for choosing me."

"I think this alchemy class will be good for you," she began after watching me serve us both another cup of tea, practicing my hovering and pouring charms, "The classes are very inquisitive, I know from past pupils you will study medicine from an alchemy background," she took a sip of tea, "You'll make a fine Healer someday."

I smiled, "You're very kind, Professor."

"How are you feeling?"

I shrugged, "I'm getting on with things like I always do."

"I know it mustn't be easy without Mr Weasley here." She said, "You two seemed inseparable over the summer."

"I'm trying not to think about it, if I'm being honest…" I confessed, "I plan on keeping myself as busy as possible… I'm sure you'll miss their pranks."

She smirked, a fondness in her eyes, "I'll not miss the chaos that follows them."

"Mischief." I said, taking a bite out of a tuna sandwich, "The shop is the epitome of everything that caused you Fred and George related stress over the years. I doubt you'll be able to keep them out of this school, not really. They'll always be here in spirit."

"I see it now," McGonagall said softly, "I always wondered why you chose him. You're both so different, yet perfectly matched."

I smirked, "We cancel out each other's crazy." Goodness, I missed him so much, so I changed the topic, "I've just realised; I don't have any books for Alchemy."

"There isn't a set textbook for the subject. Alchemy students often go in search of their own answers, that is why on Monday afternoons you have library sessions. You get a question to answer and you do your own research into the topic."

"That sounds like Hermione's cup of tea." I said, setting down my empty cup, "How come she didn't make the cut?"

"The Ministry's supply of Time-Tuners was accidently destroyed at the end of June, I think you might recall?" her eyes glinted, "Miss Granger's timetable is now as full as yours, and I believe you both to have enough to be getting on with, without adding to your workloads." She looked at her watch, "I've got to meet Mr Junis at the gates, feel free to sit here for a few minutes more." She paused at the office door, "Don't let Mr Smith cause you any bother."

"Don't worry about it, Professor," I said, "I can handle him."

"Ms Lestrange?"

I took a seat at the end of the row, beside Theodore Nott and spoke as respectfully as I could, "I'm still legally Miss Pink, Sir."

"Merlin's beard you look strikingly like your mother."

Did he just indirectly say I'm attractive? I tried my best not to blush, "So I've been told."

"Is it true that -?"

"Ah, so you've read the very colourful articles on my life, have you?" I raised my eyebrows, "I wouldn't believe everything I read in the Prophet, if I were you."

Junis seemed to appreciate my response, "Am I allowed to ask if you and Mr Malfoy here are cousins?"

Before I could even offer a response Draco said, "Shall we get on with our lesson instead of bombarding Kathryn with questions? Her mother is my mother's sister, that makes us cousins." he also said something under his breath that I didn't catch.

"Touché." I tried to hide a smile. Theodore beside me sniggered, too.

"Right – ah! You must be Miss Abbott?"

Hannah slipped into the seat beside mine, "Yes sir, sorry I'm late."

"Not to worry!" he chuckled, "Now that we're all here," he flicked his wand, ushering out pieces of parchment to each of us, "I thought I'd take this hour to explain what Alchemy is all about. But first, I shall introduce myself… I'm Mr Junis, an employee at St Mungo's, I work in the branch of experimental healing and alchemical development. In simple terms, I develop new treatments for patients, I also have side projects like developing the elixir of life -"

"You mean you're trying to make a Philosopher's Stone?" I said, "Trying to produce immortality and rejuvenation?"

He beamed at me, "Indeed, 10 points to Gryffindor! Later on in the year, I will share my research with the class and, well, see what comes of it. I'll also be taking you through the processes famous alchemists have used over the years, studying the periodic table, which had been put together by Dimitri Mendeleev… we'll have a bit of healthy competition, but I'll not ruin that week of study yet!" he tittered excitedly to himself.

"He looks as though he's about to piss himself in excitement," I muttered and both Hannah and Theodore suppressed laughs.

"Our Monday sessions together will, from next week, be held in the library for our research class. I'll give you a topic for Monday afternoons to research, Wednesday mornings will be consolidating your work and Thursdays will be presenting day and discussing the next week's work."

"Presenting?" Hannah's voice went weak, her face pale and her eyes shot a look of panic in my direction, "Like, on our own?"

Mr Junis said, "Of course! This subject is heavily based on research and presentation of evidence, and at the end of sixth year, you will each present based a chosen topic, accounting for 50% of your final grade."

"Let's start taking bets as to who will vomit first." I muttered.

"In your seventh year, each of you will choose a topic to write up a research paper, which will equate to the other 50% of your N.E.W.T."

Ernie raised his hand, "Sir? Will we be presenting every week?"

Mr Junis bounced on the balls of his feet as he answered, "Not everyone will be presenting every week, but at least one of you will be presenting during a Thursday morning class. Any other questions before we get started?"

And that is when Mr Junis had us discuss what alchemy is. He had us forming a definition and writing an overview of what Alchemy actually is. My understanding is that Alchemy has two branches, the transforming of base metals such as lead and copper into silver or gold and discovering a cure for disease and extending life.

There seemed to be a general consensus that all seven of us were happy to continue studying Alchemy as a N.E.W.T. subject this year as our class ended. It'll certainly be an interesting class, something a little different to keep me on my toes.

After the end of the lesson, it appeared that Draco, Blaise, Theodore, Ernie and I were all headed towards the dungeons to the Potions classroom. Harry, Ron and Hermione were already outside when I arrived, Slughorn opened the classroom door before I had the chance to open my mouth to tell Hermione about our class.

The dungeon had certainly changed from Snape vacated, the room was full of vapours and odd smells. The four Slytherins and four Ravenclaws all sat at tables together. Ernie looked awkwardly at me, but I was never going to make him sit at the other table by himself, so I invited him to share my desk. I had shared with Draco for five years, so this was going to be a change. As I sat on the stool, I immediately became aware of the potion in the golden cauldron in the middle of our table. It smelt of my favourite things: chocolate, coffee and George. I felt a surge of sheer contentment. I closed my eyes and it felt as though George was sitting beside me.

"Now then, now then," Slughorn said, his massive outline quivering in the many shimmering vapours, "Scales out everyone, and potion kits, and don't forget your copies of Advanced Potion Making."

Harry managed to get himself and Ron borrowed books and equipment. Originally, to take this class, you had to get an 'O' in our O.W.L.s, but Slughorn was happy to accept an 'E' grade, too, lucky them. Snape would never stand for it.

"Now then," he returned to the front of the class, inflating his already bulging chest, so that the buttons on his waistcoat stretched uncomfortably, "I've prepared a few potions for you to have a look at, just out of interest, you know. These are the kind of thing you ought to be able to make after completing your N.E.W.T.s. You ought to have heard of 'em if you haven't made 'em yet. Anyone tell me what this one is?"

He indicated the cauldron on the Slytherin table, which I couldn't see inside of from where I was sitting. Naturally, Hermione's hand shot up in the air, "It's Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth."

"Huh – I've made Veritaserum before." I said aloud to no one in particular.

"What did you say, Miss -?"

"Pink, Sir, apologies for speaking out of turn, I was merely commenting on how I've made Veritaserum before."

Slughorn swung his humongous body in my direction, "You're the Lestrange girl, aren't you?" his tone had a hint of accusation.

I swallowed and nodded, "So I've been told."

He turned away, as though the light switch that indicated interest switched off, pointing towards the cauldron on the Ravenclaw's table, "Now, this one here is pretty well-known… features in a few Ministry leaflets lately, too… who can –?"

"It's Polyjuice Potion, sir."

We all recognised that one. Hermione brewed that particular potion in our second year with my help. I was more of a look out. We had all seen the effects of Polyjuice Potion in our fourth year, too, with Barty Crouch Jr using it to become Mad-Eye Moody. I wonder how Bellatrix would feel if I was to tell her that her friend almost killed me? He's dead now anyway, so it's not as if it'll make much of a difference.

I got a nudge from Ernie as I had drifted off to the land of my own imagination, "Are you alright?" he whispered as I shivered.

I nodded, having half heard that the potion in front of us was Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world. I also know, from Fred and George that it has a mother-of-pearl sheen and has steam rising in characteristic spirals. I had never desired to go anywhere near their love potions section, unless a customer wanted some help.

"- it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and -" Hermione turned slightly pink, choosing not to finish her sentence, knowing that the smells of the potions are very personal and it must have been too embarrassing to say out loud. I wonder what it was…?

"May I ask your name, my dear?" Slughorn asked.

"Hermione Granger, sir."

Slughorn looked pensive, "Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"

"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see."

Oh here we go. Let's see how Sluggy feels about Muggle-borns. I saw Draco and Theodore Nott sharing a whisper and a snigger. When my attention resumed back on our teacher, I saw that he was beaming, "Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said. Couldn't have said anything nice about me, Harry? I was cast aside like old news. To be fair, at least he isn't still going on about it to the point that Draco felt the need to step in.

"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger."

Hermione looked to Harry, looking radiant, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!"

"Well, what's so impressive about that?" Ron whispered, looking annoyed, "You are the best in the year – I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!"

Hermione smiled, making a 'shush'ing gesture.

Ernie leaned in to whisper, "Did I hear correctly that you actually did better than Hermione in our O.W.L.s?"

"Oh, we're not allowed to talk about that 'E' in DADA." I whispered, "But I am allowed to be smug about it." I tried to hide a huge grin, "But overall, on paper, you'll find that Hermione generally did better than me, where we both got 'O's, she got closer to full marks than I did, apart from in two or three subjects."

"You're just being modest."

"You'll find, that at the end of the day, they look at the letters on the page and later on in life, they just care that you passed." I said, "Unless you want a high-flying job where you need top grades."

The two of us decided to pay attention to Slughorn again, he stated that the Amortentia is the most powerful and dangerous potion in the room. Love makes you do crazy things. Love makes you act like an idiot. Love makes you want to do anything in your power to see the other happy. I'd do anything for George. Anything.

"You haven't told us what's in this one," Ernie pointed at a small black cauldron standing on Slughorn's desk. The potion was splashing about merrily; it was the colour of molten gold and large drops were leaping like goldfish above the surface, though not a particle was spilled.

"Oho," Slughorn said again, "Yes. That. Well, that one, ladies and gentlemen, is a most curious little potion called Felix Felicis. I take it," he turned to Hermione, who had let out an audible gasp (she really knew how to play teacher's pet), "that you know what Felix Felicis does, Miss Granger?"

"It's liquid luck," Hermione said excitedly.

Every student in the room sat up a little straighter, myself included. Who wouldn't want a bit of luck?

"Quite right, take another ten points for Gryffindor. Yes, it's a funny little potion, Felix Felicis," Slughorn said, "Desperately tricky to make and disastrous to get wrong. However, if brewed correctly, like this one, you will find that all your endeavours tend to succeed… at least until the effects wear off."

"Why don't people drink it all the time, sir?" Terry Boot questioned eagerly.

"Because if taken in excess, it causes giddiness, recklessness and dangerous overconfidence." I imagined someone thinking that they'd be so lucky that they'd be able to jump off the Astronomy Tower and survive the fall. Surely the potion would mean you'd be fine, right? I should never be allowed to touch a drop of the stuff, "Too much of a good thing, you know… highly toxic in large quantities. But taken sparingly, and very occasionally…"

Michael had the next question, "Have you ever taken it, sir?"

"Twice in my life." He answered, "Once when I was 24 and the other when I was 57. Two tablespoons taken with breakfast. Two perfect days." He gazed dreamily into the distance. He got laid on those days. I know that look. George wears it so well.

Hermione gave me a questioning look across the table as Slughorn continued talking, not that I was paying a great amount of attention. I cleared my throat in some way hoping it'll clear the very dirty thoughts that had come to mind. I cannot concentrate for shit right now.

My eyes then fell upon the cauldron in front of me and I realised: love potion.

"What did he say?" I whispered to Ernie.

"He's offering Felix Felicis to the student who makes the best attempt at making Draught of Living Death…" he looked at me strangely as we walked across the room to get our cauldrons, "Are you sure you're okay?"

I glanced over my shoulder, "I can't concentrate with that potion in front of me."

"Thinking about me?" he winked jokingly.

"Of course." I nodded in the same tone, "You know," I said on a lighter note, as we returned to the table, "it was basically Draught of Living Death that Juliet used that tricked Romeo into thinking she was dead. They were going to run off together. He was too distraught, stabbed himself and then when she woke up, his body strewn beside hers, she killed herself, too, to be with him."

Ernie laughed, cutting up his Sopophorous bean with great effort, "You really have lost it. That potion has gone to your head! Hurry up and get started!"

I grabbed the beans, and in my haste watched and copied Harry's technique, probably stupidly, as it's Harry, but you know, I was in a weird mood, and Hermione was ahead. I decided to concentrate on my own work from that point on, adding the water and the salt to the cauldron. I then measured the 40 fluid ounces of essence of wormwood, holding the cauldron at a slight angle with my right hand, and adding 20 fluid ounces to the cauldron in drops. Then doing the same with my left hand holding the cauldron and the remaining 20 fluid ounces.

Within no time I was at instruction number 6, chopping up 3 Valerian Roots into small squared pieces, placing them in a beaker with water. The next step was leaving them to settle for five minutes. My potion now resembled what Hermione's looked like when I started working: a smooth blackcurrant-coloured liquid. That's a relief.

I added the bean juice and 7 drops of the reduced valerian-infused water, stirring the potion ten times clockwise. I noticed that as I stirred, the potion turned an increasingly lighter shade of purple.

"How did you get it to go lilac?" Ernie asked me.

I shrugged my shoulders, "I have no idea. I just followed the instructions."

You see, the thing I've learnt about potions is that you've got to be a bit dramatic sometimes, so when it says in the textbook 'every stir should take approximately two and a half seconds', that means the counter clockwise stirs should be very poignantly two and a half seconds, with as much twirling of liquid as possible, allowing the mixture to slow, before the next dramatic stir.

It was taking pure ages to lighten from lilac to clear, though. I didn't really see much of a change, if I'm honest. I think Hermione was getting frustrated, too, because she started arguing with Harry, whose potion was clear. Holy moley. What's going on? I looked over at Hermione's potion which was still blackcurrant purple. You could see her stress in her hair, which was wilder and bushier than usual. Ron's the colour and almost the consistency of liquorice. Ernie's was another colour – like a blue, purple, periwinkle, maybe?

"And time's… up!" Slughorn called out, "Stop stirring, please!"

He then walked around the room, peering into each of the cauldrons in turn and making the odd noise, or sniff, not giving too much away, until he got to Harry's.

"The clear winner!" he cried to the dungeon.

I see what you did there.

"Excellent, excellent, Harry! Good Lord, it's clear you've inherited your mother's talent, she was a dab hand at Potions, Lily was! Here you are, then, here you are – one bottle of Felix Felicis, as promised, and use it well!"

"Perhaps since Harry is no longer being tormented by his potions teacher, he can actual flourish in the class?" I shot back at Ron and Hermione who seemed positively dumfounded by Harry's success. I then became painfully aware of the many pairs of eyes that followed the group of us, mainly Harry and me, into the Great Hall for dinner. The Death Eaters Daughter and the Chosen One walking and talking in the flesh, together.

"Actually…" Harry then confessed that the textbook he got out of the cupboard had handwritten notes in it, giving him the edge in the class. I had copied his technique in crushing the beans, which is why mine was a lighter colour than Hermione's as I got more juice than her. Interesting.

I served myself comfort food – stew followed by a large helping of dessert, cause I really needed a sugary pick me up to help me carry on. Meanwhile, Harry was arguing with Ron and Hermione about the book. Then Ginny warned Harry about taking instructions from a book, which is a very good point. The three of them argued with Harry about that too, as I made my way through a healthy supply of ginger cake and custard. It was like watching TV, being a spectator of conversation.

They continued their arguments all evening. I tried to concentrate on the remainder of Snape's essay, but found myself feeling as discombobulated as I had done so in potions. I also felt myself getting unnecessarily emotional. The sharp pain in my stomach told me why. Great.

"I'm going up to bed, night." I said at half nine, not able to deal with the day any more.

I took a potion for the stabbing pains and pulled the curtains around my bed, hugging a hot water bottle (the house elves always knew, somehow), munching on a brownie (or two, or three), writing to George. I told him briefly about my day, ignoring the textbook argument and the fact about who was in my Alchemy class – 3 Death Eater kids, at least 3 Purebloods, 3 arseholes (5 on a bad day) and one other girl. What I did mention was Harry's detention acquiring through his absolute cracker of a line; There's not need to call me 'sir' Professor. That one is not to be forgotten any time soon! He rambled on about some very rude and disturbed customer (his words, not mine) and I was so very glad of him for his distraction. The customer was convinced that the wand that she bought from them didn't work properly, which, you know, it shouldn't, cause it's a fake wand. But George wrote that he had to hold it together to explain that the wand is supposed to turn into a squeaky chicken, with a straight face. He mentioned how Fred cooked dinner and it got stuck to the non-stick pan. I didn't ask. Apparently it still tasted good, and that's what matters.