"Do you understand it now?" – asked Catherine, her voice tinged with exhaustion as she rubbed her eyes – "It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it."
"Easier said than done!" – sighed Peter, glancing at the complicated diagrams the girl had sketched to aid his preparation for the Transfiguration exam.
"You seem to have the best results with turning mice into snuffboxes. Maybe start there and build on it." – suggested the young witch, her gaze sweeping across the nearly empty hall – "I'm going to call it a night and find the boys. Coming?"
"No, I'll stay a bit longer and make some more progress. There is almost an hour before the Library closes." – Peter replied, rifling through the stack of parchments spread out before him.
Catherine shrugged and slowly walked towards the exist, contemplating a detour to the Kitchens for a treat. Turning left, she lifted a heavy tapestry that revealed a map of Scotland and a shortcut to the ground floor, allowing her to bypass the Grand Staircase and Entrance Hall. On the other side of the corridor, a tapestry depicted fairies dancing in a verdant meadow. As she stepped through, a chill enveloped her, as if she had plunged into an icy pool.
Shivering, the third-year looked up to find the ethereal figure of a tall woman with waist-length hair, exuding an aura of nobility and pride. It was the House Ghost of Ravenclaw, her gaze fixed on the young witch who had inadvertently disturbed her evening stroll by walking right through her.
"My sincere apologies, Grey Lady!" – Catherine curtsied, her voice filled with contrition – "I wasn't aware you favoured this route for your walks."
The ghost merely nodded, her expression inscrutable, and made to continue her path. However, the Gryffindor, sensing an opportunity, swiftly stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
"I'm sorry for being so upfront, but I really hoped for the opportunity to speak with you." – the girl blurted, finally capturing the Grey Lady's attention. The ghost paused, raising a transparent eyebrow in a manner that dripped with indifference.
"I've heard word of a Gryffindor student seeking my presence" – she spoke in a distinctly aristocratic tone – "However, I prefer not to interact with mortals outside my obligations as the House Ghost of Ravenclaw. Thus, your desire to converse holds little relevance to me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I would like to leave before I encounter someone sinister."
Catherine blinked a few times, attempting to grasp the ghost's words. Without hesitation, she decided to cut to the chase before the Grey Lady could vanish through a nearby wall.
"I wish to inquire if you're aware of a secure location within this castle where I might conceal a certain item without fear of discovery?" – the young witch inquired.
"Why should I answer your question?" – asked the ghost emotionlessly.
"Um, because I seek knowledge?" – the girl gave her best shot.
"Your attempt is both arrogant and lacking in wisdom." – the Grey Lady judged before drifting towards the ceiling.
"No need to offend me!" – shouted Catherine, frustrated – "Can't I try again?"
"Maybe some day, should you present a more compelling proposition." – shrugged the ghost before disappearing.
The third-year seethed with anger, swiftly turning on her heels and bolting towards her Common Room, no longer in the mood for a snack. As she entered the Gryffindor Tower, her eyes scanned the chamber in search of the boys. Finding no trace of them, the young witch sauntered towards the Dormitories, feigning nonchalance. Pausing as if to tie her shoe, she discreetly confirmed that nobody was watching before darting in the opposite direction, ascending the stairs to the bedroom of the third-year boys.
Inside, Remus lay on his bed engrossed in a book, while Sirius sprawled on his stomach, was sketching in a book gifted to him by Catherine for Christmas. James stood at the centre of the bedroom, vigorously drying his wet hair with a crimson towel, clad only in loosely-fitted jeans that remained unbuttoned.
"Do come in!" – chuckled Sirius, setting his work aside and springing off the bed.
"How about you knock next time, Flame?!" – James snapped, clearly irritated – "I was naked a minute ago! For your information, boys need privacy too!"
"I doubt you have anything I haven't seen before." – Catherine smirked, taking a seat on Peter's empty bed.
"He doesn't but you would have noticed size may differ depending on the person!" – Sirius grinned, as James threw a sneaker, aiming at his friend's head – "Don't sulk, mate! Nature has been generous with me!"
"Who said I was talking about you?" – the girl teased with a wicked smile.
James and Sirius stared blankly at her and then at Remus who immediately turned bright red.
"It wasn't me!" – he quickly muttered, causing the other three teenagers to burst into laughter.
"So now we have to find a way to satisfy a ghost lady that died a few hundred years ago?" – groaned Sirius unhappily.
"In a way." – nodded the young witch – "I suppose the answer I give her must be surprising and clever, yet sensible. It's quite a challenge!"
"At least we know her price." – shrugged James – "We're still in the dark regarding the cost of the Ashwinder egg. Right Sirius?"
"Right." – confirmed the other boy without much enthusiasm – "Let's hope we can settle this before the exams are over, though."
"I just hope for exams to be over." – moaned Moony, setting aside his heavy book, and reaching for another one.
Catherine wasn't particularly concerned about her exam results. Confident in her abilities, she expected to achieve 'Outstanding' in every subject. With a multitude of other concerns occupying her mind, academic performance ranked low on her list of worries. James and Sirius echoed the young witch's sentiment, though they chose to outwardly display their arrogance to everyone around them.
In contrast, Remus and Peter harboured anxieties about their performance. Remus, driven by inner insecurities, found himself grappling with worry, while Peter had very tangible reasons for concern, chiefly centred around the upcoming Potions exam. Fortunately, despite any imperfections in Peter's Girding Potion, they paled in comparison to the calamity brewing in Cassius Mulciber's cauldron. The vividly green liquid bubbled violently, each eruption amplifying its putrid odour and showering bystanders, leaving holes in their clothes and rashes on their skin.
"Don't worry, Peter!" – Catherine attempted to console the boy during dinner – "Your potion might not have been very good, but at least it wasn't dangerous. If it weren't for Slughorn's intervention, Mulciber would have spent the afternoon in the Hospital Wing."
"True!" – James chimed in, adding – "Although, he still ended up there."
"Why?" – asked the girl, surprised.
"Apparently, he expected Snape to help him during the assignment. When Snivellus didn't so much as glance at his cauldron, flew into a rage and tried to attack him like a Muggle after the exam. However, since he was nowhere near as formidable as you, Flame, Snape managed to dodge, whipped out his wand, and… oh well, sent poor Cassius straight to Madame Pomfrey." – explained James with a bit of a sadistic satisfaction.
"I don't think Mulciber would have been able to get anything but 'Troll' in Potions even if Snape did everything instead of him!" – scoffed Catherine condescendingly, glancing at the Slytherin table. She noticed that as usual Snape was sitting alone, reading a book while absentmindedly chewing his dinner.
"Anyway!" – shrugged James, changing the subject – "only have History of Magic tomorrow, and then we're free!"
'Depends on your definition of free.' – the young witch smiled sadly, her thoughts drifting to the impending two months confined to her home.
The next day was sunny and hot, providing both motivation and distraction for the third-years as they sat down to write their final exam of the year. Afterward, the Gryffindors spent a lazy afternoon lounging around the lake, relishing the cool shade of the trees while sipping on chilled orange juice.
The last evening before the trip back to London felt bittersweet. Catherine found herself in a gloomy mood and preferred not to linger in the noisy Common Room, where excited chatter about the upcoming vacation filled the air. Instead, she and Remus spent most of the evening playing Wizarding Chess. Although Catherine wasn't particularly skilled at the game, she knew Moony enjoyed it, even if he never explicitly requested it.
"Checkmate!" – the boy announced with a grin as Catherine's King surrendered its crown to his Knight.
"I truly suck at this!" – laughed the girl – "Well played, Moony!"
"Thanks." – the wizard replied with a smile, his amber eyes sparkling in the candlelight. The young witch couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked when he was relaxed and having fun, especially with that charming dimple on his right cheek.
"Are you losing again?" - James teased Catherine as he and Peter entered the room, carrying several butterbeers and a bag of sweets which appeared to be originating from the Honeydukes – "Where's Sirius?"
"He said he had something to do." – answered the girl, reaching for a jelly slug from the bag.
"I hope he's not getting into trouble again." – the black-haired boy remarked, carefully folding his invisibility cloak, and placing it in his trunk.
"Quite the opposite!" – Sirius announced, bursting into the room with an excited expression, holding a piece of paper and a torn envelope – "I found us an Ashwinder egg!"
"You did?!" – James and Catherine exclaimed in unison, while Remus frowned but approached his friends, who had gathered around Sirius.
"I've just received a letter from Dung, and he promises to help us for only 50 Galleons!" – the grey-eyed boy explained eagerly.
"Who's Dung?" – asked James curiously.
"50 Galleons!" – Remus gasped in complete shock.
"His name is actually Mundungus Fletcher." – chuckled Sirius – "As you probably know, my family is not as pure as they like to present themselves, so they're involved in a lot of shady dealings beneath the surface. Being the first-born son, I've had the 'great pleasure' of being dragged around by my father to learn the ins and outs of the family business. That's where I know Mundungus from. He's relatively harmless, especially compared to other guys I've encountered, but he's very well-connected and doesn't mind bending the rules for a price."
"50 Galleons!" – Remus repeated, still finding it hard to believe the amount.
"Great! Then we shall arrange to meet him somewhere in London and get the egg." – Catherine suggested, pleased that they were close to acquiring yet another ingredient for the Animagi Potion.
"He suggested mid-August in the White Wyvern on Knockturn Alley." – Sirius informed them.
"We can do that!" – James stated decisively – "Since Sirius is going to spend most of his vacation at home anyway, we'll just tell my parents we want to go buy our school supplies that particular day!"
"Why is Sirius going to be at your place?" – asked Peter, who had been silently observing his friends.
"Merlin, I told you yesterday!" – snapped James – "His family's going to the States to visit relatives, and he needed somewhere to stay."
"Why aren't you going with them?" – asked the other boy surprised, turning to Sirius, who simply shrugged indifferently.
"I guess they just don't want to take the risk of me saying anything that would make them look bad."
"Well, it's not like you wanted to go anyway! And now, we're going to have so much fun! I wish all of you could come!" – exclaimed James, looking at the rest of his friends.
"My mom won't allow me to." – sighed Peter sadly – "She insists on going everywhere with me. I can't even persuade her to stop holding my hand when we go to Diagon Alley!"
"I sincerely doubt my parents would let me spend any time away from home, but I can join you to meet this Mundungus." – said Catherine trying to hide her inner disappointment at not being able to spend her holiday with Sirius and James – "In any case, we need to take proper care of the egg because it's very delicate and could burst if not frozen immediately."
"Don't worry, Flame! Everything's going to work out just fine!" – Sirius ensured her enthusiastically.
"50 Galleons!" – mumbled Remus, shaking his head in disbelief, helplessly watching his friends as they nonchalantly planned to break the law by acquiring and sneaking an Ashwinder egg back to Hogwarts in September.
As the August sun began its descent over the picturesque Sandbanks coastline, the grandeur of the mansion perched upon the sandy shores became illuminated by the warm hues of twilight. The sprawling white estate, adorned with detailed carvings and large windows that caught the fading light, stood in elegant contrast to the lush green gardens surrounding it. Stone pathways meandered through the verdant landscape, leading towards the mansion's grand entrance. Tall, swaying palm trees added a touch of exoticism to the scene, their fronds rustling softly in the evening breeze.
At the heart of the yard lay a large swimming pool, its crystal-clear waters inviting guests to take a refreshing dip on that balmy summer evening. The pool was surrounded by marble statues and ornate fountains, adding to the estate's luxurious atmosphere.
As the noble wizards and witches arrived, they were greeted with the tinkling melodies of live music drifting from the expansive veranda overlooking the beach. Waiters clad in crisp white uniforms circulated amongst the crowd, offering trays laden with champagne and canapés. The air was filled with a symphony of laughter, clinking glasses, and lively conversations.
Marquess Carsilion Egbert sighed audibly, gazing at his half-empty champagne flute as delicate bubbles lazily rose to the surface of the vintage Bollinger. A solitary droplet of moisture traced a meandering path down the smooth exterior of the chilled glass in the hot summer night.
The wizard was dressed in a linen suit the colour of moonlit sand, which hugged his slender frame with understated grace. A crisp, white Egyptian cotton shirt draped softly in the sea breeze, its collar adorned with a subtle touch of azure embroidery, echoing the hue of the aristocrat's captivating sky-blue eyes. The alpenglow made his auburn hair glimmer like molten copper. His posture emitted superiority and boredom as his gaze didn't miss a single detail from his surroundings.
For instance, he keenly felt Lord David Pennington's piercing stare from across the yard. Once a lively summer fling several years back, David, third cousin of Marquess Lovett, revealed his vindictive nature when Carsilion's interest waned. In addition to the extremely graphic and unflattering rumours he had spread about his former lover, David attempted to use Dark Magic in order to accomplish his full-scale revenge. Naturally, that did not work against someone as powerful as the descendant of Egbert the Egregious, but it left a very bitter taste in Carsilion's mouth regarding yet another relationship.
At the foot of the exterior marble staircase, Countess Cordelia Windermere, sister-in-law to Duke O'Dargan, was fanning herself vigorously, talking with a few other ladies who were giggling and occasionally throwing glances in his direction. The Countess had been extremely blunt with Carsilion regarding what she wanted from him during the last time they met. However, while under different circumstances he might have fulfilled her wishes, the wizard couldn't get rid of the vision of the shy smile of Hogwarts' Transfiguration teacher that kept appearing before his eyes. Thus, he harboured very little interest in the curvy, bodacious blond who was biting her full lips seductively while staring at him.
The Marquess swiftly finished the remainder of his champagne. Maintaining his carefree, hedonistic image was not without its pleasant sides. It was a necessary facade to avoid being perceived as a threat and to glean the information he needed, though at times, it proved tiresome. Carsilion couldn't help but yearn for the tranquillity of his quarters at Hogwarts, where he could lose himself in a good book or, even better, spend his evening with Minerva.
'I'm really getting carried away. I need to be careful, or this can end up badly for both of us.' – he thought wearily, focusing once again on the crowd. There was nothing unusual – the same boring people, talking about the same boring stuff, demonstrating their power and wealth, and conspiring against each other. This last aspect was well illustrated by the particularly gloomy atmosphere between Houses Lovett and Whiters. Carsilion knew that Marquess Lovett and Marquess Whiters had some kind of dispute regarding several Occamies the latter owned. Laurence was furious after discovering Tybalt's people had collected the shells of the newly-hatched beasts based on some century-old contract which had supposedly expired long ago. The argument got so heated even the Council needed to intervene in an attempt to settle a quickly escalating conflict between the two Houses. Nevertheless, the members of those two families seemed to particularly avoid each other during the current party.
In addition, Duke Prince arrived, to everyone's surprise, and he was currently talking in a very serious manner with Duke O'Dargan, who appeared rather flushed, which probably meant they were discussing something Raven didn't quite enjoy. Judging from past instances, one would think it was possibly related to the pitiful state of the Academy, for which House O'Dargan was responsible.
Straying from the white building, the wizard casually surveyed his surroundings, attempting to locate Adrian Borealis, with whom, unfortunately, he had to converse. Despite their mutual hatred, they couldn't avoid the necessity of coordination on certain matters. Although Carsilion had relinquished his position as the First Guardian, the commander of the Council's private enforcement force, before assuming his role at Hogwarts, the fact that he had never been formally defeated in a duel posed a problem. The position could not be transferred but only won. The Head of House Borealis was continually seeking someone to replace the Marquess, but all his candidates had proven to be no match for Carsilion, resulting in a significant void in the governing bodies of the aristocrats.
"Now, speaking of the devil…" – a crisp, authoritative voice startled the contemplating aristocrat, who swiftly turned to see Marquess North Redmond standing beside a marble statue of a dancing naked nymph. His sky-blue eyes, eerily reminiscent of Carsilion's, bore into him with unmistakable derision. Suppressing his retort, the Marquess bowed formally to the Head of his House and the second cousin of his late mother.
"My Lord! I'm glad to see you're enjoying the party! Do you need my assistance for anything?"
"Not really." – the Marquess replied with a sardonic grin – "Unfortunately, you've been rather unreliable lately. It's a true waste of your talent, but I suppose we've needed to adjust our expectations since some time ago. Am I wrong, Canopus?"
"Regrettably, you're absolutely correct, My Lord!" – the slender man with his back to the wizards, responded, turning around - ice-cold gaze fixed on his son as his face contorted with a blend of disgust and anger.
Carsilion's heart skipped a beat. He felt his hands started trembling, and he summoned all his willpower to relax his body. Many years after Canopus had thrown him out of his home, he still vividly remembered the sense of desperation when his life had crumbled around him. He lost everything in one night—his family, prospects for the future, and his love. Since then, he had seen his parent only three times, and one of those occasions was when he challenged him to a duel and won the title of First Guardian twelve years ago.
That's why the presence of Baron Egbert caught his son off guard. He was not usually one to attend social functions, and the younger aristocrat wondered what had drawn him out of the woods where his lonely mansion was built.
"I'm utterly surprised Duke McMahon let you off the leash to roam around freely." – hissed the Baron sarcastically, casting a casual glance at the nearby witches and wizards.
Carsilion slowly exhaled. He knew his father was trying to gain the upper hand by throwing him off balance and forcing him to say or do something he didn't intend. It had often worked in the past, but the Marquess was no longer the terrified, sensitive young boy he once was. He donned his most arrogant smile and met the other wizard's gaze directly.
"Good boys deserve rewards, and Duke McMahon knows that perfectly well." – Carsilion purred, enjoying the vein visibly pulsating on his father's temple.
"Don't blame yourself, my friend." – intervened Marquess Redmond – "House McMahon has always been quite adept at manipulating people and getting what they want through any means they could think of—from marrying half-breeds to blackmailing the rest of us with their spawns."
"This is very true, My Lord." – agreed Canopus, a smirk appearing on his thin lips – "They have never been shy about exploiting every possible advantage to gain the upper hand over the rest of us, always playing with people's feelings with stories of their great sacrifices for our well-being. Sadly, there are often gullible, rebellious young people who fall into their nets."
"While other, less gullible old folks prefer to fall only for promises of more money and titles, which never seem to materialise." – remarked Carsilion casually, sporting a wicked smile.
"You know, Marquess Egbert, the Council might continuously turn a blind eye to your twisted lifestyle and total lack of commitment to the position you hold unjustifiably, but be certain that I will not tolerate your insolence much longer." – Marquess Redmond stated, his tone cutting, barely containing his anger – "You may lick Edward McMahon's boots all you want, and the rumour has it, you don't stop there. However, he remains the Head of House McMahon, while you've peaked, regardless of your superb abilities. At the end of the day, you're still one of us."
"Not in my book." – the Baron disagreed sharply, spitting at Carsilion's feet – "I lost my wife because she gave birth to a malevolent, disturbed, and corrupted child devoid of any pride or morals! Years later, that same creature brought disgrace to my home and name, a name he still dares to carry! But the reality is, I have no son!"
With that, the older man turned abruptly and strode toward the house. Marquess Redmond followed, yet not without a sneer of apparent satisfaction curling his lips.
"I believe you'll eventually come to your senses, lad, but be sure to do it before it's too late. Your talents won't save you if you cross the line."
Carsilion stood in silence, watching the departing wizards. Every muscle in his body was pulled taut, like a tightly wound cord ready to snap at any moment. The surrounding noise and laughter were driving him insane, and the glaring light stung his eyes. The Marquess swiftly headed towards the darkness of the beach, almost sprinting as he approached the sea. Gasping for breath, he halted at the water's edge, struggling to suppress his tears. It was unbelievable that after all these years, this bastard could still evoke such a profound effect on him. The waves, advancing steadily, signalled the imminent arrival of high tide. Abruptly, they halted mere centimetres from Carsilion, as if meeting an invisible barrier, while he kept staring into their depths.
"I assumed you wouldn't want your new Hardy Amies suit to get wet." – Edward McMahon's amused voice reached Carsilion as his best friend stood next to him, his eyes softly glowing in blue, matching his elegant Thierry Mugler blazer. The Duke's cheerful demeanour quickly faded as he noticed that the other wizard's discontent ran deeper than mere annoyance at being at a party he hadn't wished to attend – "Carter? What's wrong?"
"Nothing much." – answered the Marquess quietly – "I just had the delightful experience of chatting with my father and North Redmond. Those two are a bottomless source of joy and hope, injecting a sense of purpose into an otherwise dull existence."
"I caught sight of your father earlier." – Edward noted with a sigh – "I thought it was not a good sign. But why do you let them get to you so much, Carter? What can they possibly say that you haven't already heard?"
"Actually, nothing new." – admitted Carsilion grimly – "The usual barrage of remarks about how repulsive I am, laced with thinly veiled insinuations about you and me. Then, the familiar tirade on how I've betrayed my family, starting from the day I was born, and my mother died, topped off with a few threats for dessert."
"You'll never learn, brother!" – said the Duke gently, draping an arm around Carsilion's shoulders – "These people do not deserve you and they most certainly are not worthy of the suffering and self-hatred you've experienced and still do to this day."
"I'm fine." – snapped Carsilion, shrugging off his friend's embrace.
"You don't say!" – chuckled Edward – "Are you seriously trying to peddle that dragonshit to me? I know you better than anyone! I can feel you're barely holding yourself together, and I'll be damned if I let you fall apart right before my eyes!"
"Yeah, you still need me to look after your kids." – hissed Carsilion, immediately regretting his words. He looked at the other wizard, who stood there with a sad smile – "I'm sorry, Edd! I didn't mean it. I don't even know why I said such a thing."
"Because you're hurt, and you thought lashing out would make you feel better." – Edward replied calmly. He lifted his hand, and the waves obediently formed beautiful, articulated towers before crashing back into the sea, leaving foam and salty droplets in their wake – "You know, I don't mind it. If it will make you feel better, you can even punch me! I'll take it gladly if it can alleviate some of your pain! But you need to realise, those two arsemongers still control you because you haven't freed yourself from them. You could flee to the ends of the Earth, renounce everything that ties you to House Redmond and the aristocracy, but as long as you don't believe you're a good person who deserves happiness and love, you'll remain under their thumb. All this glamour, these expensive clothes, jewellery, perfumes and cosmetics, confidence that enchants your lovers and admirers—it's all a facade. You're trying to disguise how you really see yourself, a reflection of the hideous image your father planted in your mind!"
"Punching you might not have been such a bad idea." – murmured Carsilion, who, to his own surprise, felt a slight relief as Edward verbalised the tumult of thoughts and feelings swarming his mind.
"Come on, let's go back to the party!" – Edward said with a grin, relieved that he had managed to pull Carsilion from the verge of the darkness threatening to consume him – "I've heard a delightful rumour about the two of us and my wife, so I was looking forward to spicing up their imaginations a bit more!"
"The one about Greg being my son?" – Carsilion asked with a hint of interest as they walked back toward the noise of the party.
"No, the one about Louisa using her Veela powers to ensure I fulfil my marital duties, which otherwise I couldn't, due to being smitten with you!" – the Duke replied with a mischievous chuckle, giving his friend's tight bottom a playful smack.
"Never tickle a sleeping dragon, Edd!" – Carsilion smirked as they entered the pool of light, drawing some questioning glances.
"I'm not overly worried, considering your thoughts are fully occupied by a certain dark-haired witch with a charming Scottish accent." – the blond wizard winked at the Marquess, whose face turned an uncharacteristic shade of red.
"I can only afford to have my thoughts occupied by your brats, Your Grace! Speaking of which, I see Greg's caught up in an argument with Borealis' younger son. I'll go save him. That boy is a complete jerk, just like his father! Let's meet tomorrow evening at the usual place? And be careful with these rumour-stirring antics of yours. Your wife is not entertained by them in the slightest, and I've had more than enough trouble with her lately. See you!"
Edward watched Carsilion hurry toward a group of teenagers at the edge of the swimming pool and couldn't suppress his amused smile. He wasn't worried about his son; Greg was perfectly capable of defending himself in every sense of the word and studying at Hogwarts had kept him grounded and humble, unlike many of his peers who attended the Academy.
'Carsilion, on the other hand, is completely incapable of recognising he's in love with that Minerva he keeps talking about every time we meet.' – Edward mused as he headed in the opposite direction, suddenly compelled to hug his wife.
The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving just a faint trace of its fiery glow on the edge of the sky. The party grew increasingly lively, illuminated by flickering torches and floating glowing orbs that hovered above the heads of the guests. The band, playing 'Summer Breeze' by Seals & Crofts, beckoned participants to the dance floor in the salon on the ground floor, its doors open to the garden.
Louisa McMahon took a sip of her icy-fresh Cucumber Cooler, surveying the crowd with a haughty derision. She relished organising parties at her home; it satisfied her creative impulses and gave her full control as the hostess. Indeed, she had gained fame for her unique taste and hospitality, allowing her to enjoy herself while maintaining a certain distance from the guests.
However, attending others' gatherings was a torturous ordeal. Louisa understood the importance of participating in aristocratic social life and played her role accordingly, but it cost her a lot to don the mask of the seductive succubus who had allegedly stolen the heart of Duke McMahon and bent him to her will. This persona, combined with her perfectly played hatred towards Carsilion Egbert, had earned her a formidable reputation among the aristocracy. Her beauty and the subtle influence of her Veela magic further solidified her power over many aristocrats, both men and women.
Taking another sip of her refreshing beverage, the witch sighed with exhaustion. Edward had departed to engage with supporters of House McMahon, leaving her bound to listen to Marchioness Leona Whiters' tiresome lament about her husband's wandering attention. Louisa smiled empathetically, realising the importance of strengthening ties with House Whiters to secure their support and preserve Catherine's life. Despite Leona's chatter, she was the most harmless amongst those harpies who were married to the Heads of the seven major Houses.
"Anyway, I'll visit your studio next week so we can think of something more flattering for Lauren's birthday." – Leona chirped, her round blue eyes filled with anticipation as she gazed at the Duchess.
"Of course, darling, we'll find something that would look stunning on you." – Louisa answered with a kind smile – "I envision something in apple red."
"You're a lifesaver, Lou!" – exclaimed the other aristocrat – "I don't know how I could ever repay you… and I mean, also for the other thing."
"Don't mention it." – the Duchess shook her head – "You do not need to worry. My mother's going to take care of your little problem."
"This means the world to me." – said Leona softly – "I'll never forget your help, and also the lack of judgement."
"We all have our reasons. One should remember that before judging anyone for the hard decisions they had to make." – Louisa replied, the other woman nodding vigorously.
The band started playing 'La vie en rose' by Edith Piaf, and the Duchess closed her eyes for a moment to immerse herself into the beautiful melody that reminded her of home, just across the sea she currently faced. The evening breeze ruffled the golden waves of her long hair, cascading down her back and perfectly complementing the silk chiffon gown by Dior in a delicate shade of seafoam green, which enveloped her slender form and trailed behind the witch, echoing the gentle movement of the waves.
"The Birth of Venus unfolding before me! What a rare treat!" – Adrian Borealis' low, husky voice jolted Louisa, prompting her to awaken from her trance and find the Duke uncomfortably close. She even caught a whiff of his fresh, citrusy perfume with woody undertones.
"Adrian! What a delightful surprise!" – Louisa replied with a bright smile that never reached her jade-green eyes – "We were just discussing how Asteria has truly outdone herself this year. Is she nearby? I've been eager to pay my respects."
"She's upstairs with Thelonius' wife, fussing over their son." – the wizard smirked, his gaze roaming over the Duchess' body, stopping appreciatively at her deep neckline adorned with an intricate necklace of rare Colombian emeralds – "I hope you won't deny me your company for the sake of a toddler, no matter how adorable he may be."
"He's indeed adorable!" – Marchioness Whiters interjected with a laugh, winking at the Duke – "But again, House Borealis has always been renowned for their good looks!"
"You flatter us too generously, my Lady!" – Adrian bowed graciously to Leona, who giggled like a schoolgirl – "Although, we may have to relinquish that title if House McMahon continues to introduce such gems into their gene pool. On that note, Lady Whiters, your daughter seems to have encountered a wardrobe malfunction and was seeking your assistance."
"Oh, dear, it's probably those stripes again!" – sighed the Marchioness, her gaze scanning the yard hurriedly – "She never listens to me, this child! Please excuse me, Your Grace."
"I suppose, this leaves me with the responsible and rewarding task of keeping you company, Duchess." – the wizard declared, his blue eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight as he plucked a champagne glass from a passing waiter's tray – "Not drinking tonight?"
"I rarely drink, Your Grace." – Louisa explained with dignity, silently contemplating how to gracefully extricate herself from Adrian's presence, who seemed far too comfortable for her liking.
"Oh? Is this some peculiarity of your Veela blood?" – he asked with a sly smile, taking a sip from the cold, golden liquid.
"I'm afraid it is not." – the witch answered sternly – "It's simply a matter of personal preference. I've found that alcohol can often serve as a catalyst for some very poor decisions."
"You're probably right." – smiled the Duke, moving a step closer to the woman – "But in some cases, it can foster honesty between people, wouldn't you agree?"
"I don't require any alcohol to be honest, Your Grace." – said Louisa lifting her chin slightly – "However, I do understand that not everyone finds it as easy to communicate their feelings as I do."
The Duke chuckled softly as he gently captured a wayward golden curl, his lips brushing against it tenderly. Throughout this intimate gesture, his gaze remained fixed and unwavering on the wife of one of his most despised adversaries. "I've always found that candid and untamed nature of yours quite captivating, dearest Louisa! It's a pity you subject yourself to disrespect just to secure a better future for yourself and your child!"
"I don't know what you're talking about." – the witch replied emotionlessly, freeing her hair from the aristocrat's grasp.
"Let's not spoil this lovely evening with unpleasant discussions!" – Adrian smirked, slowly licking his lips – "Perhaps we could take a stroll in the garden. My company would certainly support your quest for presenting yourself as one of us."
"I'm not certain I understand what 'one of you' means but I assure you, Adrian, that I'm perfectly content with who I am. Therefore, I prefer to stay here, even if it means forgoing the pleasure of your company." – Louisa responded, her anger barely contained, yet she couldn't help but relish the sharp change that swept across the Duke's face.
"That's rather surprising after your earlier declaration of honesty."- he scoffed condescendingly – "I'm very disappointed you would disregard my friendly gesture. But alas, I suppose you can't really discern our human intentions so well. It's a common problem with half-breeds!"
"How dare you address my wife in such a manner?" – Edward's voice thundered, causing heads to turn toward the stunningly beautiful yet visibly upset Duchess McMahon and the smirking Duke Borealis, whose posture exuded arrogance and dominance. A few meters away, Duke McMahon stood tall, his wand gripped tightly, his eyes gleaming in blue.
"Edward, don't!" – Louisa's warning came sharp and urgent, her gaze darting to Adrian, who had also drawn his wand, his demeanour calm and composed, his eyes aglow with silver light.
"You must be an utter fool to challenge me in my own summer home!" – hissed Duke Borealis – "Do you truly believe anyone here would support you attacking the host?"
"And do you think anyone here would support you insulting the Lady of House McMahon?" – Edward retorted, trembling with rage.
"How is speaking the truth an insult?" – the other wizard laughed cruelly – "I understand that normally you don't have much blood in your brain between this enchanting creature using her magic on you and our invaluable yet lustful First Guardian, but surely there's enough for you to realise that if you attack me here, it will spell the end of your House. You ought to think more about your son than your romantic interests!"
Louisa's mind raced furiously, seeking a way to extricate them from this perilous situation. She knew that Adrian was exaggerating slightly, and there were guests who would support them, but engaging in conflict with Borealis at this moment was the worst possible course of action, particularly as they were currently working on a strategy to persuade the Council to overlook the McMahons' breach of the Pact.
A sudden idea illuminated the Duchess's face as she stepped between her husband and Duke Borealis, taking a deep breath.
'You wanted to see the power of a Veela that badly, Adrian? Let me show it to you then.' – she thought with contempt as she felt her blood heating up in her veins. The witch began dancing slowly and seductively, her hips swaying sensually, tracing delicate arcs in the air. Her shoulders rolled smoothly as her fingers traced the inviting curves of her breasts. Tossing back her hair, she fixed her green eyes on Adrian, who stared back with a foolish expression, his gaze clouded with desire and his mouth hanging open in desperation. All thoughts of fighting Edward had evaporated from his mind, replaced by an overwhelming longing for the woman before him. Louisa knew she held complete sway over him in that moment, and he would eagerly obey her every whim. Unfortunately, Veela powers were not confined to a single target, and every man within close proximity fell under the Duchess' spell, quickly plunging the party into chaos. The witch watched as her husband knelt at her feet, attempting to kiss her Salvatore Ferragamo golden sandals, while Adrian clasped her hand, listing all of his possessions and offering them up to her in a futile attempt to win her favour. Nearby, Lord Dalzell attempted a handstand split, and Count Gully issued challenges to fistfights, finding no shortage of willing participants. It seemed Louisa had traded one source of trouble for another, and she continued to dance, uncertain of her next move, while the other women watched her with a mixture of anger and disdain. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Duke Prince's weary face and sad violet eyes.
"Your Grace!" – she exclaimed, surprised, as she realised that he was not affected by the Veela magic – "You're immune to my dance?"
"It's one of the gifts passed down through our family's bloodline." – the wizard explained calmly, his eyes beginning to glow silver – "Do not fret, my dear. I'll handle these foolish children. Apparently, they need to learn the hard way how to behave properly, don't they?"
With that, a sharp gust of cold wind tossed all the wizards who had gathered around, most of them falling painfully on their backsides. Duke Borealis was flung straight into the pool, while Edward ended up in one of the nearby fountains.
"Now after everything is back to normal, I would love to have this dance, my Lady!" – Duke Prince bowed to Louisa and shot a petrifying warning glace at the two younger men who had managed to climb out of the water, completely soaked but also back to their senses.
As the band started playing 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' by Simon & Garfunkel, the Head of House Prince gracefully led Duchess McMahon to the dance floor and skilfully guide the witch, feeling her finally relax in his arms.
"Take a deep breath." – he gently advised her – "Those two really scared you, didn't they? I'll have to speak to them because such behaviour is absolutely inadmissible! Don't worry, I'll take care of everything."
"Thank you, Your Grace." – Louisa gracefully bowed her regal head – "I wanted to apologise for using my Veela power during the party. I know it was very rude."
"Nonsense!" – The Duke interrupted her – "You did what you thought would deescalate the situation, and you did very well. I should be the one apologising for not reacting sooner and allowing this brat, Adrian, to offend you."
"Well, he got his demonstration, so now I guess those who support him would be even more inclined to talk about me as if I am not a human." – the woman said softly, staring at her feet.
"Not anywhere I have authority!" – the older wizard declared, prompting Louisa to look at him, stunned. She hadn't expected such a decisive support, even though the Duke had always been kind and attentive to her.
"But why?" – she asked, completely forgetting her usual restraint, earning an amused smile from the man.
"Call it an old man's whim." – he said, his voice deep, smooth, and velvety – "I can't stand seeing a woman in distress. I suppose it reminds me of my daughter, and since I don't have the chance to protect her, I feel it's my duty to protect you, even if it seems old-fashioned or overreactive to you. It helps me feel less of a failure as a father."
"It seems that's always the case with daughters, isn't it." – murmured Louisa, resting briefly her head on the Duke's shoulder before the final chords of the melody.
"Mint chocolate chip!" – declared Sirius Black, handing Catherine an ice cream cone. The tall, lanky girl with jaw-length bob haircut and jade-green eyes smiled brightly at her best friend, accepting the treat with gratitude. They sat together on a weathered bench in front of the newly opened Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, enjoying the sunny morning in Diagon Alley.
The young wizard sighed happily. This was easily his best summer ever. He spent most of it with James and his caring parents who treated Sirius as part of the family. It was a completely novel feeling to be liked and cherished in a house where there was a genuine sense of love and peace. James was like the brother he could never find in Regulus. They talked for hours, flew around on their brooms, ate to their hearts' content, and spent most of their waking hours exploring the wildness outside Godric's Hollow. The only thing missing was Catherine who now sat next to him, cheerfully devouring her favourite ice-cream. Sirius thought she looked very cute with her short hair that made her eyes appear even bigger and brighter. She hadn't grown up much during the last months, but she somehow seemed a bit thinner and more fragile which made the boy wish he could embrace her and hold her tight.
"Alright, I'm all set with new school robes!" – announced James, taking a seat between Catherine and the other boy – "We have two hours before noon. Let's do some shopping!"
The three teenagers ran around the many establishments on Diagon Alley, having plenty of fun buying school supplies, books, potion ingredients and other non-essential items such as dungbombs and wizarding fireworks. Catherine used the opportunity while James and Sirius were arguing if they needed more Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks or Spellbound Spirals and sneaked off to Quality Quidditch Supplies, returning with a brand-new Nimbus 1500.
"Why didn't you tell us you wanted a broom?" – asked James sulkily as they walked towards the Leaky Cauldron in order to leave their purchases before meeting with Mundungus Fletcher.
"Because I wanted one during this century, and it did not seem plausible if Sirius and you needed to agree on the model." – the young witch replied, shrugging nonchalantly.
"So, does this mean you're going to try out for the Quidditch team?" – asked the grey-eyed wizard tentatively.
"Yes." – declared the girl with determination – "After the last year's fiasco, I've reached the conclusion that if we ever want to win the Quidditch Cup, I need to take matters into my own hands."
"Huh? Are you planning on being the team captain too?" – James teased her.
"If I have to." – Catherine lifted her chin proudly.
"Maybe you should start by making the team first." – Sirius chimed in with a chuckle – "We shall train together once we're back to Hogwarts. Being in perfect sync with the other Chasers is crucial and will give you an edge."
"Sure!" – the girl agreed, much to his delight.
"It's also important to be in sync with the rest of the team." – James remarked with a wicked smile – "Maybe you should ask Greg McMahon to train with him as well."
Catherine was busy admiring the intricate golden scales behind the window of Mr Mulpepper's Apothecary and didn't notice Sirius attempting to shove James' head into the nearby pile of dragon dung.
As quarter to noon approached, the three friends stealthily made their way around the corner behind the Magical Menagerie and disappeared among the shadows of Knockturn Alley. The White Wyvern loomed ahead, its dimly lit interior blending seamlessly with its aged and weathered façade. Above the front door, a sign creaked on rusty hinges, depicting a snarling, ghostly white wyvern poised as if ready to strike.
The Gryffindors entered cautiously. Catherine immediately pulled the hood of her zip-up jacket over her head, concealing most of her face. The air inside was thick with the acrid scent of cigars and Frostfire herb, making it difficult to breathe. The furniture was a mismatched collection of wooden chairs and tables, some carved with rune symbols. The few patrons present either sat with their backs to the room or obscured their faces in some manner.
Nervously scanning the room, Sirius guided them to a small table in the far corner, where a short wizard with unkempt ginger hair sat nursing a glass of Firewhiskey despite the early hour. As they took their seats opposite Dung, Catherine couldn't help but notice his dishevelled appearance, from his unshaven face to his bloodshot brown eyes and the pungent aroma of tobacco and alcohol that clung to him.
"Celebrating the deal already?" – grinned Sirius as the three of them took a seat across from Mundungus Fletcher, casually looking around. Though their arrival seemed to attract some attention, the other patrons quickly returned to their own business.
"I don't count my Diricawls before they're hatched!" – smirked the older wizard, finishing his drink in one go – "Are these your friends?"
"They are." – Sirius nodded – "James, Flame, this is Dung. He's the one you contact if you have something valuable to sell or want to purchase something without too many questions asked."
"As long as I see the gold!" – confirmed Dung with a broad smile, then winking at Catherine – "That's an interesting name you have."
"My name is not the topic of this meeting." – the girl said icily – "We want to see the egg before we give you the money."
"Can't happen!" – exclaimed the wizard decisively – "There's a Freezing Charm put around it. If I move it out of the bag, it's going to start heating again. You won't be able to handle it, and it's going to be ruined!"
"So what? We're supposed to just trust you and not inspect it until we're ready to use it?" – snapped Catherine.
"Well, either that or you can put it in a container made of Goblin silver, which I doubt you have with you." – suggested the wizard mockingly.
"Listen, Dung,"- Sirius retorted angrily – "we're giving you a lot of gold here. Can't you be more helpful? There should be another way! Can't we just recast the Freezing Charm?"
"Nah, lad, it's going to break the shell of the egg. It can't handle that much magic." – Mundungus shook his head – "You have no real option here but take my word for the quality of the goods I'm offering!"
"Take it out!" – Catherine ordered with determined expression.
"Flame, maybe we should really trust him. Otherwise, we'll ruin the ingredient." – James whispered to his friend – "Neither of us has a Goblin silver container. We don't have a choice."
"I'll take the responsibility." – insisted the witch – "Give me the egg, and I'll give you the gold. But you stay here until we make sure it's what it's supposed to be."
"Do what she says." – Sirius instructed Mundungus, disregarding James' angry expression, and took out a small bag that jingled attractively.
The older man eyed the bag longingly and hesitantly retrieved a dirty red fabric package from inside his oversized coat, setting it gently on the table. Catherine swiftly unwrapped the bright red Ashwinder egg, covered in tiny ice crystals.
The moment she touched the shell, the egg immediately began to radiate intense heat. Within half a minute, the wood beneath it began to char, wisps of smoke curling into the air. Seizing the opportunity, Dung swiftly grabbed the money from Sirius, his fingers tracing the weight of the bag appreciatively before he left as quickly as his short legs could carry him.
"What are we going to do now?" – asked James in a panicked state.
Catherine took a deep breath, reached out, and took the Ashwinder egg with her bare hands. Sirius and James stared with disbelief in their friend, who didn't even flinch.
"Are you insane?!" – almost screamed Sirius, attempting to take back the egg without much success.
"It almost set the table on fire! How could you hold it like this?" – asked James, his hazel eyes wide with shock.
"It seems Dung didn't deceive us." – Catherine declared firmly, standing up and heading towards the door, trying to cover the egg from curious glances – "Let's hurry! I want to be out of here as soon as possible."
The three Gryffindors rushed past many dark, dusty windows of various establishments in Knockturn Alley, the young witch tightly clutching her precious cargo. Eventually, they reached Shyverwretch's Venoms and Poisons, the muted clamour of Diagon Alley drifting to their ears. Panting, the students leaned against the nearby wall, James and Sirius still staring at the young witch, torn between worry and admiration.
"I know you have many questions, and I truly wish I could answer them, but the egg starts burning me, and I need to go home!" – Catherine stated, her voice calmer than she felt.
"Then let it go, for fuck's sake!" – Sirius swore, irritated, attempting to grasp the girl's hands.
"No chance in hell!" – she hissed, taking a step back – "I'll be fine once I return to my house. I have a suitable container for the egg."
"Where did you get Goblin silver from?" – James asked suspiciously – "It's very rare and expensive!"
"I've been preparing for a while." – lied the young witch, tears of pain brimming in her eyes – "Please, it's starting to hurt! I promise, I'll explain everything, but not now! Can you just help me back to the Leaky Cauldron?!"
The two boys looked at each other, their minds buzzing with thoughts and questions. However, they both realised that their top priority at the moment was alleviating their best friend's pain and preserving the Ashwinder egg. James hurried back to the pub and retrieved all her packages, grabbing the bowl of Floo Powder and holding it ready. Shortly after, Sirius and Catherine arrived, the grey-eyed boy's face pale and anxious.
"Are you sure you're going to be fine?" – he asked.
"I promise." – the young witch replied, attempting to smile through the tears. She took her purchases from James, who tossed the glittery emerald dust into the flames.
"Feywood Heights!" – Catherine barely whispered, hoping she would end up in the right place. The last thing she saw was Sirius' look of tremendous concern before a labyrinth of fireplaces danced before her eyes. In a few seconds that felt like hours, the girl found herself rolling on the floor of her home's kitchen. Sharp pain shot through her left knee, but it was nothing compared to the burning sensation in her hands.
The young witch hurried to one of the storage rooms on the first floor, where she had hidden a small chest made of Goblin silver. It was likely from around the 14th century and had previously been used as a decoration in her mother's Medieval corner.
Carefully placing the bright red egg inside the silver container brought a momentary sense of relief. Unfortunately, the excruciating pain returned almost immediately. Despite her natural tolerance for the heat due to her fire inclination, Catherine was not able to hold the burning egg for such a long time without inflicting severe damage on her hands, which looked as if most of her skin had been melted.
Attempting to focus on healing her palms, the young witch struggled to mix her magic with vital power. The Ministry of Magic had no authority over aristocrats, so using magic outside of school shouldn't have caused any issues. However, the intensity of the sensation made it impossible for her to concentrate. With her parents away at their summer party, Catherine was left to deal with the situation alone, unwilling to explain her injuries to them even if they were present.
"Young Mistress?" – Betty's squeaky voice startled the girl, who realised she had curled up on the stone floor.
Fifteen minutes later, the house-elf had settled Catherine in her bed. She allowed Betty to dress her in a soft nightgown, clean her face and hands, and even persuade her to eat a generous slice of peach tart. Now, the creature was using her magic to heal the girl's hands.
"I didn't know house-elves were so skilful in healing." – the young witch exclaimed in awe as she watched her wounds disappear, leaving behind fresh, new skin.
"Good house-elves can heal their family." – proclaimed Betty proudly – "Betty helped old Mistress Bryanna once, and now Betty had the honour of helping young Mistress Catherine as well!"
"Thank you, Betty!" – the girl smiled gratefully as the old house-elf's eyes filled with tears.
"Mistress Catherine will be careful in the future? She needs to learn how to control her powers and avoid getting hurt!"
"I will, Betty! I promise! Next time, I'll make sure I can heal myself! You don't need to worry about me, honestly! I'm a big girl now!" – the young witch grinned at her old servant, who watched her with a gentle, motherly expression.
A/n: Dear readers, since the site's statistics do not work (yet again), I'll be grateful if you consider sharing your thoughts on the story, so I can get some feedback and improve. Thank you in advance and as always I hope you like the new chapter!
~Sailea~