Catherine wiped away the sweat from her forehead and continued focusing her magic. Her hands, positioned approximately ten centimetres above the cut on Dumbledore's hand, started trembling from the tremendous effort she was investing into healing the wound. Unfortunately, there was still no sign of any progress.

The young witch had been extremely proud during their first lesson after Christmas, when she had demonstrated to the Headmaster that she was able to heal herself. While the old wizard did praise her appropriately, they wasted no time and began working on the much harder task: healing others using the same method.

"It is considerably more challenging when one must transfer their magic to another individual. Contact is typically optimal, but in instances of open wounds, it is wiser to avoid touching skin directly. Hence, one should maintain their hands in close proximity and endeavour to channel their magic and vital power." – explained Dumbledore before he used his wand to make a small cut on his hand which Catherine had been trying to heal for the last forty minutes.

"I do believe this ought to suffice for today's session." – the Headmaster smiled gently, blue aura enveloping his palm, leaving the skin without a trace of the wound.

"I'm sorry, Professor." – the black-haired girl apologies gloomily.

"There's no need for apologies, my dear girl!" – Dumbledore declared, pointing his wand towards the desk, where an intricate silver teapot accompanied by two cups appeared, filling the room with delicate aroma – "Would you care for a cup of green jasmine tea?"

"I haven't tried it before." – the third-year admitted, taking a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. The dim candlelight was casting trembling shadows on the sleeping portraits on the walls. The clock on the mantel was showing half past nine. A brief gust of wind and the noise of softly flapping wings prompted Catherine to swiftly look up, seeing the beautiful red and orange Fawkes, who landed on the back of Dumbledore's chair.

The young witch gazed longingly at the fiery creature. The phoenix was so close that if she could just reach across the desk, she could pluck one of its feathers, which they needed for the Animagi Potion. Unfortunately, with Dumbledore in the office, attempting such a feat would have been complete madness. Catherine was pretty sure the wizard had many ways to make her confess the truth, even without resorting to Veritaserum. Thus, for the time being, the girl simply sat impassively and drank her tea, which turned out to be surprisingly refreshing.

"It seems there's quite a lot on your mind, Catherine." – the Headmaster's voice interrupted the Gryffindor's thoughts – "Is there anything that bothers you?"

"Well, sharing your body with a demon is not exactly a pleasant thought." – the witch responded bitterly – "I can't be honest with my friends about who I really am. My family's a complete mess and my brother's not speaking to me. The whole house of Slytherin hates me, except for Lucious Malfoy, whose favouritism worries me way more than the possibility of being suddenly hexed without any provocation. Additionally, Professor Thorne became oddly nice to me out of the blue and it creeps me out. And on top of everything, I still can't heal another person. Shall I continue?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes held a glint of suppressed laughter. He cleared his throat and said with a smile.

"Indeed, these are quite a few burdens for a young witch to bear on her own. While family advice may not be my forte, given the strained relationship with my own relatives, I must say, I could only wish I had been as good a brother to my sister as Greg is to you."

Catherine looked surprised at Dumbledore. This was the first time he mentioned his family. Intrigued by this rare glimpse into his personal life, she felt a surge of curiosity about the kind of people they were. However, the wizard appeared reticent to delve any deeper into the subject.

"What I can assure you, my dear, is that Professor Thorne has your best interest at heart, and there is truly no need for wariness around him." – the Headmaster continued, his eyes twinkling as he noticed the doubt etched on the young witch's face. – "And as for the House of Slytherin, well, speaking as a former Gryffindor, I may be a touch biased. However, I firmly believe that you, with your Slytherin blood and heritage, possess the capability to handle them with finesse, without straying from the rules, of course."

"I'm not sure I understand, Sir." – the third-year admitted, confused.

"You're an extraordinarily astute young woman, Catherine." – Dumbledore said, his smile fading – "I trust you're well aware of the current events unfolding in the Wizarding society."

"You mean all the attacks against Muggles and Muggle-borns?" – asked the witch hesitantly.

"Indeed. These are not just random occurrences. Regrettably, I fear we stand on the precipice of very dark times ahead, and their shadow looms over life within Hogwarts as well. Even the powers of the Headmaster have their limits."

"I see." – Catherine responded, her mind frantically analysing Dumbledore's words and whether he expected her to somehow intervene and fight supporters of the Dark Arts inside the school.

"I don't want to burden you with more responsibilities than the ones you already have." – the wizard assured her, placing his empty teacup back on the desk – "I am well aware of how much you suffer, constantly afraid of your powers and their potential impact on others. But, much like me, I sense that you are someone who ultimately chooses to do what is right, and cannot simply stand aside while those you could save suffer. I don't mean to hint anything; just consider what I said."

"Why do you tell me all this?" – asked Catherine who felt truly bewildered. On one hand, the Headmaster's words struck a chord with her, suggesting a deeper understanding than she was accustomed to receiving. Yet, on the other hand, she felt as though she were caught in a powerful current, struggling against its pull in vain. No matter how hard she swam in the opposite direction, it seemed utterly futile.

"Believe it or not, I do value the fact that I've encountered someone as remarkable as you." – said Dumbledore, gently caressing the phoenix, which remained perched on the chair's back – "Many perceive me as a genius or the most powerful wizard. Whether true or not, it carries immense expectations, and rarely do I find someone with whom I can share the burden. And last time it did not end up well."

"So what? You expect me to believe you consider me as your equal? Me? A thirteen-year-old witch who cannot even heal your cut?" – Catherine laughed sarcastically.

"Skills are acquired at our own pace. Your power already surpasses that of many grown wizards. However, what's more crucial is your comprehension that those of us wielding power must sometimes make sacrifices, even of ourselves, for the greater good. Am I mistaken, Catherine?" – Dumbledore's response was accompanied by a flash of his blue eyes behind the half-moon spectacles.

The young witch blinked twice, uncertain of how she should respond to the Headmaster. The fact that he spoke to her as a grown-up person, whose opinion he valued, both flattered and frightened her. While he was not incorrect, she remained doubtful of how much she could genuinely contribute to the greater good, particularly given the possibility that she, herself, might also be perceived as a significant danger.

"It's getting late." – the Professor interjected suddenly – "I must apologise to you, my girl. It's truly unfair to expect more from you than what you're already managing, which is quite substantial. I simply hope you'll still feel comfortable coming to me if you ever feel overwhelmed or need support. My door is always open to you."

"Thank you, Sir." – Catherine smiled slightly and headed towards the door but stopped just as she was about to leave – "You didn't mention anything about the concerns I had with lying to my friends."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling as he pondered contemplatively.

"No one can compel you to keep a secret, Catherine, especially from those you consider so close that you'd willingly spend every waking hour with them and do anything for them, am I correct?" – the Headmaster spoke slowly, his tone gentle yet firm.

"I'm not sure I follow." – admitted Catherine sincerely.

"I don't believe your discomfort stems from feeling remorse for concealing your true identity from your friends. Rather, I suspect you feel apprehension because you're deeply afraid that if the truth were to come out, they might abandon you." – stated Dumbledore, his gaze unwavering as he observed the young witch's now visibly pale face.

"Good night, Professor." – she stammered, nearly tripping down the stairs in her haste to leave Dumbledore's office.

'Fucking old geezer!' – she thought angrily – 'He keeps getting under my skin regardless of how hard I try to prevent it!'

The third-year shook her head decisively, as if she could physically rid herself of the recent conversation's memories. She hated to admit it, but Dumbledore was completely right. However, there were more urgent matters demanding her attention, making such thoughts pointless. With that comforting realisation, she entered the bustling Gryffindor Common Room. Greg, engrossed in conversation with Frank, Lily, and Benjy Fenwick by the fireplace, didn't acknowledge her presence. Catherine felt a pang of disappointment. Recalling Dumbledore's words, she resolved to find a way to mend things with Greg as well as save her pride if possible.

"Where the hell have you been?" – Catherine heard James' angry voice as he grabbed her hand, dragging her to one secluded corner where Sirius and Peter sat around a low table.

"About time, Flame! Doesn't the Library close at nine?" – Sirius asked with suspicion.

"Since when do I need to justify my whereabouts to you?" – the girl retorted sharply, still feeling the sting of her conversation with Dumbledore – "Where's Moony?"

"He said he wouldn't participate and didn't want to know anything." – shrugged Sirius – "And you don't need to tell us where you go but considering all that's happening to Muggle-borns these days, it's highly recommendable to do so!"

"Whatever…" – the young witch dismissed him with irritation, adding – "I agree with Remus. It feels wrong to do it!"

"Come on, Flame! Only you can imitate Evans' handwriting!" – James groaned, exasperated – "Plus, you know perfectly well it must have been Snivellus! We can't let him off the hook! Mary told me the teachers are still clueless about what caused that transformation!"

"I'm not suggesting we should ignore it, but while Snape may have been involved, I doubt he was the mastermind. Besides, I find this plan a bit too cruel!" – Catherine objected.

"His potion humiliated our friends and classmates, and you're worried the plan's too cruel?" – Sirius chuckled grimly – "Aren't you more concerned about Evans' reaction if she finds out you're involved?"

"So what?" – Catherine snapped back – "Lily's my closest girlfriend. I don't want her to be upset with me or dragged into an awkward situation."

"Exactly! Do you want her to end up with Snape?" – hissed James – "You know he's obsessed with her! She needs to see it and realise how crazy and dangerous Snivellus is! This is also for her own safety!"

Catherine's eyebrows arched in a sarcastic manner. While what James said was definitely true, she had a different theory about why he was so concerned about Lily's love life. Nevertheless, the black-haired witch decided to proceed with the agreed plan. Snape's possessiveness over Lily and his constant intrusion on Catherine's own time with her friend were becoming increasingly intolerable. Furthermore, it seemed Lily remained blissfully unaware of the weird relationship she had with the Slytherin boy, and that needed to change.

Taking a deep breath, the teenage girl settled herself beside Peter. She retrieved a blank piece of parchment and positioned the text James and Sirius had already devised in front of her.

"Don't forget to put a lipstick kiss at the end of the letter!" – chuckled Sirius.

"I'm not going to do that!" – snapped Catherine, glaring angrily at the grey-eyed wizard.

"Come on, Flame! Do it properly!" – insisted James.

"I don't even own a lipstick!" – protested the witch – "I borrowed from Gwyneth the few times I wore any."

"Way ahead of you!" – smiled Sirius, placing an elegant black box in front of the stunned girl – "You can keep it as a souvenir from this secret mission!"

"I didn't know you were so knowledgeable about Muggle cosmetics." – said Catherine, impressed, as she examined the bright red Chanel lipstick.

"I did my research!" – the boy grinned proudly – "Plus, I liked this shade the best from the Muggle catalogue. It's named 'In Love'. I think it will really suit you!"

"You certainly know how to flatter a girl!" – the witch giggled, applying the lipstick in front of the hand mirror that Peter was helpfully holding for her – "No wonder so many witches fancy you!"

"Like who?" – asked Sirius curiously.

"Flirt in your own time!" – James intervened – "We have work to do! Chop-chop!"

Sirius burst out laughing, while James ducked to avoid the ink bottle Catherine threw, aimed at his head.

Severus groaned wearily and cast a glance at the old clock on his nightstand. It was only seven in the morning, yet he doubted he'd get any more sleep with Mulciber's snoring filling the third-years' room. Being a light sleeper, the young wizard had always struggled to rest in the Slytherin boys' dormitory, where an abundance of sounds made sleep elusive. Last night had been particularly challenging.

Quietly slipping out of bed, the boy gathered his school uniform and made his way to the common bathrooms at the end of the narrow corridor. Thankfully, there was no one around—a relief for Severus, who disliked showering with his housemates present. Though not overly sensitive, he preferred to avoid the ridicule from those who mocked him for his appearance, blood status, or lack of wealth, depending on their respective mood.

After freshening up, the Slytherin donned his black school robes and decided to grab breakfast early. Lost in thoughts of his Charms homework, he nearly collided with a slender figure darting from behind the marble statue of a huge snake positioned at the end of the corridor, just next to the bathrooms' entrance.

Narcissa Black, clad in a silk green peignoir, startled at the sight of Severus, as she took a step back. Her long platinum blond hair was dishevelled, with strands sticking to her sweaty forehead. The delicate fabric of her garment left little to the imagination, accentuating her smooth, white skin, which seemed to glow in the dim corridor. Severus couldn't help but notice several painful-looking red marks peppering the witch's neck and upper chest, clearly visible beneath the silk folds.

As the wizard's gaze fell upon her, the young woman's complexion suddenly drained of colour, her hands trembling as she instinctively attempted to cover herself, though her efforts were in vain. Her pale blue eyes were now filled with horror, finally meeting Severus's stare as she managed to speak.

"Good morning, Severus."

"Good morning, Narcissa." – Snape replied, his voice noticeably raspier than usual, as he watched the witch hastening towards the girls' dormitories. The young wizard briefly thought that another shower or perhaps a strong cup of tea suddenly seemed very appealing. His mouth was parched as the memory of the love bites on Cissy's neck lingered vividly in his mind.

'I suppose I now know where the entrance to the Basilisks' chambers is.' – he mused, making his way toward the Great Hall.

The secret society that had governed the Slytherin House for centuries was highly selective in its membership. Typically, there were no more than seven Basilisks at any given time, each enjoying a private bedroom. The location of these quarters was a closely guarded secret, but thanks to the unexpected encounter with Lucius's girlfriend, Snape had stumbled upon the entrance.

'This could prove to be useful information, especially if I ever want a chance to become one of them.' – thought the boy as he took a seat at the Slytherin table and glanced around. To his surprise, the Great Hall was rather full for such an early hour, with lots of giggling and awkward looks exchanged between the students.

'Merlin, it's Valentine's Day!' – Severus finally realised – 'That's what Cissy looked the way she did…although knowing Lucius, this is likely just an excuse.'

The young wizard scoffed disdainfully as he scooped some scrambled eggs onto his plate and poured himself a generous cup of tea. As usual, he ate in silence, as his housemates rarely sought his company unless they wanted something from him. A prime example was the Chimera Elixir Severus had invented several months ago. Initially intended as a clever means to obscure one's identity, the elixir remained undetectable until activated by a specific spell, allowing it to be seamlessly mixed into various substances. Lucius had praised the potion as inspiring in front of the entire Common Room, which had left the third-year feeling full of pride. However, the following evening, Valeria Malfoy surprisingly chose to sit next to Severus during dinner. It quickly became apparent that this was no coincidence, as she immediately inquired about his invention and whether it could alter people's appearance to the extent that they no longer looked human. After some deliberation, Severus agreed to try and modify his Chimera Elixir according to Lucius' sister's desires for which she paid him three Sickles. For someone who never had any disposable income, this was a small fortune, and even the arrogant manner in which the girl tossed him the coins couldn't dampen his spirits.

Unfortunately, despite the lack of concrete evidence, many people began to look his way once the potion had been used on a few Muggle-borns. Potter and his gang were particularly bothersome, and their accusations seemed to be taken quite seriously by the other houses. For Severus, who had never been popular in the first place, this wasn't a problem per se. However, while he didn't particularly care about the people affected by his potion, he began to worry that Lily might also start suspecting his involvement in the incidents.

The boy's train of thought was abruptly derailed by the arrival of the mail. Today there were more owls than usual, many of them carrying pink envelopes or small packages. Severus, looked back at his plate just as one of the school's Tawny owls dropped a sealed letter on top of his head.

Eyeing it warily, he checked for the sender's name, finding none. Upon opening the envelope, however, the young wizard immediately recognised the elegant, smooth lines of Lily's handwriting.

My dearest Sev,

It has taken me considerable courage to pen this letter to you. We have been the closest of friends for years, and while I cherish our bond immensely, I can no longer deny the truth. I cannot continue to call you merely a friend when my heart yearns for so much more. Every night, I am haunted by dreams of you, and all I desire is to share an eternity with you.

If you harbour any inkling of reciprocation, let us make our feelings official. I propose a date this Saturday at 2 p.m. Meet me in front of Magic Makeovers, beside Honeydukes. Please, keep your response for Saturday; I am not yet prepared to face it, especially with so many watching our every move.

Yours forever,

Lily

Severus' heart raced with excitement, his mind feeling fuzzy and light. With trembling fingers, he traced the bright red kiss mark at the end of the letter, as if he could feel the warmth of Lily's lips. He couldn't wait to wipe away that beautiful colour with the kiss he had dreamed of since he first laid eyes on the red-headed girl.

Quickly tucking the letter into his pocket, he glanced around to ensure no one was watching. At the Gryffindor table, Lily had yet to arrive, while Sirius Black and James Potter has caused quite a commotion with their enchanted paper airplanes made from the Valentines they had received. For a fleeting moment, Severus thought Potter might have glanced his way, but he quickly dismissed it as his imagination. Finishing his breakfast hastily, the young wizard left to retrieve his books before classes began.

'Lily's absolutely right!' – he thought on his way to the Dungeons – "If they find out about our plans for Saturday, they're certainly going to go above and beyond just to ruin our date! Just a few more days - I can wait."

It was nothing short of a miracle that Severus managed to sleep at all during that week. Never before had he felt such overwhelming happiness. It seemed as though his most cherished dreams, which had been his solace during years of neglect and abuse, were finally beginning to take shape. He didn't care about the mocking of his classmates, who were constantly teasing him for dwelling in another dimension. He didn't even care that he had messed up during DADA class in front of Gryffindors by incorrectly answering Professor Thorne's question about the Kappas they were revising. It was hard enough not to embrace Lily right there and then, and he was very proud of the degree of self-control he was exhibiting.

Furthermore, he was also utterly impressed by Lily, who showed incredible acting talent and didn't break her platonic friendship demeanour even for a second.

"I can't wait for tomorrow!" – he whispered to her after class, then swiftly departed before she could respond.

The next morning, Severus spent hours attempting to improve his appearance. Unfortunately, there was very little he could do for his clothes, which looked warn and shabby, and he had no friend to lend him a decent outfit. Consequently, the young wizard spent a considerable amount of time in the shower and even attempted to cut his own hair, only to end up with a worse hairstyle than before. Thankfully, he managed to salvage the situation by tying his uneven black strands into a ponytail. Though his skin appeared far from healthy, at least he had no pimples at the moment, and he shaved off whatever traces of peach fuzz he had on his face.

In a rare display of generosity, Ethan Wilkies allowed his classmate to use a bit of his fancy perfume. Severus completed his routine by brushing his teeth at least three times before setting out for Hogsmeade, trying to ignore his shaking hands and accelerated heartbeat.

While Snape was certain that what he saw in the mirror was far from handsome, he was at least confident that Lily would have no reason to doubt his hygiene, which was another nasty rumour he needed to contend with thanks to Potter and his crew. He wished he were taller, more muscular, better dressed, or richer, but there was nothing he could do about it at the moment. Thus, Snape took a deep, calming breath and entered Honeydukes for the first time ever.

Fifteen minutes later, he emerged from the store, cradling a beautiful white box filled with Lily's beloved Ice Mice. The young wizard regarded the three Sickles he had paid for the gift with pride, seeing it as the first of many times he would spoil his red-headed goddess. He vowed that it was just the beginning of the beautiful life he would ensure she would have with him.

Since it was still early, Severus decided to take a walk around the village. Partially because he couldn't stand still due to the excitement, but also because it was very cold and windy, despite the cloudless February sky.

As the time for their date approached, Severus retrieved the letter and the box containing the Ice Mice from his pocket, mentally rehearsing the eloquent response to Lily's confession that he had crafted, eager to share it with her.

The village was bustling with a crowd of his classmates and older students moving between the most popular shops. Lily wasn't waiting in front of Magic Makeovers, but after a quick search, the boy found her two shops down, admiring a box full of Puffskeins behind the window of Paws and Talons.

"Hey." – he said awkwardly, feeling his beautifully composed speech slipping away from his mind.

Lily turned around and smiled amicably.

"Oh, hi, Sev! How are you doing?"

"I…" – the boy stammered indecisively – "I'm ready!"

"Ready for what?" – asked the girl, confusion clouding her emerald-green eyes.

"For our date!" – the Slytherin boy almost shouted, his teenage voice betraying him at the most inopportune moment, drawing the attention of the passing students.

"Severus, I don't understand…" – mumbled the red-haired witch, embarrassed – "You've been avoiding me all week! Did we have plans for today? What do you mean by date?"

"I received this letter from you on Valentine's Day… I thought…" – Snape's voice faltered, choked with desperation and humiliation – "There was even a kiss mark at the bottom."

Lily glanced at the piece of parchment her friend was holding in his trembling fist, her expression softening with empathy.

"Sev, this isn't from me! The handwriting does look like mine, but it's really not, and I don't even have this colour of lipstick! It wouldn't match my hair or skin tone. I'm truly sorry! Perhaps we can…"

"Is there a problem, Evans? Is squeaky Snivellus bothering you?" – James asked, approaching the two students, followed closely by Sirius and Peter.

"Stay out of this, James Potter!" – Lily hissed, her tone laced with irritation.

"Hey, no need to be rude! I just wanted to check if you were okey. Snape here looked like he was about to whisk you away to some crypt and drain your blood dry!" – James smirked.

"Mind your own fucking business!" – the Slytherin tried to sound threatening, but his voice betrayed him again, affected by the bitter tears of disappointment he was fighting.

"Quite the tough talk from someone who sounds like a rubber duck in a Muggle bathtub!" – James chuckled – "Come on, Evans, why not join us at The Three Broomsticks? It's safer than hanging here alone with him! I'll even treat you to a butterbeer!"

"Lily, are you ready to go?" – Greg McMahon's voice cut through the argument, prompting the other boys to jump and stare in disbelief at his calm, handsome face.

"Yes, let's go! I could definitely use a cup of tea!" – exclaimed Lily, eagerly following the fourth-year as he led the way towards the nearby teahouse named The Charmed Teapot.

"You're dating Greg McMahon?!" – shouted James Potter, completely shocked.

"It's none of your business who I'm dating, but no, we're just friends!" – Lily snarled, turning back, her eyes flashing. Then she added softly as she moved past Severus – "We'll talk tomorrow, okay? I'm truly sorry!"

"It's alright." – Snape almost whispered, averting his gaze from the girl of his dreams walking away with the boy who Severus envied the most in the entire school.

Blinking to clear his eyes of tears, the Slytherin noticed Catherine Plantier as she exited Honeydukes, laden with bags likely filled with expensive clothes and unnecessary items. Anger simmered beneath his skin as he gritted his teeth, pondering life's injustices. How could an arrogant, ignorant Mudblood like her have everything she desired, including friends, while he was destined to spend his life alone and poor?

'She's not better than me in any way, but she has gold!' – the Slytherin thought bitterly, staring at the unsuspecting Gryffindor – 'And she can use that to hide her unattractiveness with pricey clothes and even make up.'

The young wizard sneered condescendingly at Catherine's black cashmere coat and fashionable jeans. She wore boots with a small heel, and her long straight black hair cascaded freely under a bright red beanie hat, matching her vibrant red lipstick.

Severus' black eyes widened with the sudden realisation, glancing quickly at the fake love letter still in his hand. There was no mistake! He had been so gullible! Lily had never worn anything red because she claimed it made her look ridiculous. Plantier, on the other hand, loved all shades of the damn colour and she was now proudly flaunting her victory over him.

"Fucking bitch, you're going to regret this tenfold!" – growled the young wizard fiercely, as he swiftly headed back to Hogwarts, leaving his smashed dreams behind.

"I don't see what you could improve!" – Mary MacDonald assured her friend, who was scrutinising herself in the tall mirror.

"There's always room for improvement, but I've done my best with what I have." – Catherine retorted, adjusting her red beanie hat to frame her face just right.

"Now I see why you don't mind Gwynnie's acid tongue – she can't hold a candle to your self-criticism!" – the brown-haired girl giggled.

"That might be true, but I just want to be objective, so I don't deceive myself?" – Catherine admitted, mostly to herself.

"Can you deceive yourself?" – asked the other witch, confused.

"Don't mind me. I'm just babbling nonsense!" – the black-haired girl attempted to lighten the mood – "I hope that this time I won't stand out so much among the girls. They are always so fashionable."

"I think you're going to blend perfectly in the Helga-squad!" – said Mary, grinning.

"I told James to stop calling them that!" – moaned the other girl, rolling her eyes.

"It's kind of cute though!" – Mary disagreed – "In any case, your new coat is very elegant, and it goes great with the boots. Maybe a bit of lip balm? It's best if you have one that's slightly reddish, since it will match your hat!"

"I don't have any, but Sirius gifted me a red lipstick that might work." – Catherine remarked, rummaging through her trunk until she found the petite Chanel box.

"This shade suits you perfectly!" – Mary complimented her as they descended the spiral stairs – "Sirius certainly enjoys spoiling you, doesn't he?"

Ignoring the question, Catherine stared at her feet, hoping to conceal her flushed cheeks from her fellow Gryffindor. The brisk air outside helped temper her embarrassment, and she welcomed the refreshing walk to Hogsmeade despite the biting wind.

Alice, Marianne, and Tabitha waited for her in front of the Post Office, and they spend a few happy hours strolling around, buying all kinds of tempting stuff from the countless little stores, and sharing laughter until Catherine's sides ached.

One particularly laughable moment occurred as they passed the Hog's Head Inn, where a small crowd was gathered, giggling, and pointing at something. Upon closer inspection, they discovered the Gryffindor third-year boys had attempted to sneak in, despite the premises being forbidden for underage wizards. As a result, they were hanging heads-down above the front door, as if suspended by invisible ropes. Mortified, Catherine lowered her hat above her eyes and swiftly left the embarrassing scene.

'What an incredible luck I have for deciding to go out with the girls today. Otherwise, I would have been hanging there as well, without a doubt!' – she thought, shivering – 'That must have been Sirius' idea! He just can't sit still for a single moment!'

The Hufflepuffs found the incident hilarious, teasing Catherine relentlessly while enjoying tea at The Charmed Teapot. The black-haired witch didn't mind too much, as the atmosphere was overall friendly. She also learned a bunch of new gossip from Marianne, including some concerning Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black, which honestly made the teenage girl blush crimson.

As they prepared to leave, Catherine insisted on treating the girls. While the Hufflepuffs waited outside the teahouse, the Gryffindors patiently queued at the counter to settle the bill. It took some time as the owner, who also served as the waitress, was swamped with tasks. Eventually, Catherine handed over the required payment and casually glanced toward the couple who had just entered.

Her eyes met Lucius Malfoy's gaze, a smug predatory smile appearing instantly on his arrogant face. Apparently, the presence of Narcissa Black, who was walking by his side, didn't bother him one bit.

Fighting, the rising panic, Catherine grabbed the change and looked around hastily. Without a second thought, she darted through a nearby side door, hoping to find a back exit. To her relief, that plan succeeded as she stumbled upon a door leading to the back alley behind the teahouse and Honeydukes. Leaning against the brick wall, the young witch attempted to catch her breath in the shadows cast by a large pile of empty crates.

Right away, however, she heard a chorus of female voices bursting with excitement.

"I can't believe you actually did it, Lavinia!" – exclaimed someone whom Catherine recognised as Drusilla Rosier – "Are you sure he's going to eat it!"

"Yes! I slipped a few galleons to the owner, so she'll make sure only he gets the 'spiced' bonbons! And they're his favourite cherry flavour!"

"I hope you won't forget about your old friends once you become an aristocrat!" – giggled a third person, likely Aelia Greengrass.

"Well, unless you lose all your money by then. I can't interact with social outcasts!" – Lavinia chuckled.

Catherine peeked through the crates and managed to see the angry face of Aelia, who was red as a beetroot.

"It's not that serious, I told you! Daddy's going to find a way to dissolve the contract! He had no recollection of how this even happened! He thinks the old Slughorn and Barnabas Rowle conspired against him and drugged him in some way!"

"Yeah, right!" – snorted Drusilla – "Most likely your dad just had one too many at Slughorn's party and thought he could outsmart an old fox like Rowle!"

"Girls let's not argue about this again. I'll go wait on the High Street for the love of my life to find me! Don't rain on my parade!" – snapped Lavinia as she left the alley with a catlike stride, followed by her fellow Slytherins.

Catherine waited until she couldn't hear any footsteps, then dashed towards Honeydukes. She quickly located the backdoor the fourth-years had used earlier and hurried inside. The shop was completely packed with students, and the noise was almost giving her a headache. The young witch looked around hastily, desperately searching for Greg amidst the colourful crowd of people.

To sooth her discomfort, the girl closed her eyes focusing on her breathing. Suddenly, she felt something familiar. It was faint at first, but then she sensed the fresh and salty notes that had always reminded her of Greg. If Catherine had more experience with the real world, she would have recognised this aroma as sea breeze, but at that moment, she simply followed the scent she knew from her early childhood.

After a few steps taken in a complete darkness, the witch opened her eyes and spotted her brother casually chatting with a plump, smiling witch who was holding a tray with bonbons that resembled chocolate cherries. Greg had one of those in his right hand, but thankfully, he hadn't taken a bite yet. Catherine didn't waste a second, practically jumping on top of him, grabbing his hand, and dragging him aside, shouting.

"You have some nerve to talk shit behind my back! You have a lot of explaining to do!"

"The hell is wrong with you!" – Greg yelled, trying to free his hand, and frowning when he realised people were staring at them.

"Il y a un philtre d'amour à l'intérieur des bonbons!"* – she finally screamed at him, hoping nobody around could understand them.

Greg's face turned ashen. He ceased his struggle and stared at his sister with a perplexed expression, then finally nodded almost imperceptibly.

"I'm truly sorry!" – he said loudly enough for everyone to hear – "It's a misunderstanding. I believed something that was not true and spoke before verifying its accuracy. Please accept my sincere apologies!"

With a formal bow, Greg left the shop without another word. After a few seconds, Catherine noticed that people were still casting curious glances in her direction. To ease the tension, she pretended to browse through the newly released candies. Gradually, the atmosphere returned to normal, and Catherine prepared to rejoin her Hufflepuff friends, who must have been wondering where she had disappeared.

However, just when she was about open the door on her way out, the witch spotted the new, larger, and more intense version of Dragonfire Delights, freshly released to the market. A broad smile crossed her face as she eagerly grabbed a few boxes as a reward for saving her sibling.

That's why she was particularly cheerful and smiling when she found herself back on the High Street, where Severus Snape caught sight of her and concluded that she had been the one behind his earlier humiliation.

In fact, Catherine didn't witness the whole commotion. She just saw James standing there helplessly, his face oddly distorted as he stared after Greg and Lily.

"Do you think they're really just friends?" – he asked after Sirius quickly briefed the black-haired girl on what happened in her absence.

"How should I know?" – she responded, her tone a bit snappish – "I told you this was not a good idea! I regret participating. We should have just hexed him until he admitted what was his role in this whole ordeal."

"You can't make an omelette without breaking eggs!" – proclaimed Sirius, who didn't seem one bit sorry about their prank – "If you want to bash us, just go find Moony. He's been avoiding us the whole day!"

"What omelette? You're way too focused on Snape. Our aim was to figure this out so the attacks would stop! Now we've achieved nothing but stooped to their level! I'll go find the Hufflepuffs and then spend my time with someone nice and normal like Remus!"

With that, Catherine turned around and walked in the opposite direction, cursing herself for listening to James and Sirius. Suddenly, her eye was caught by a pristine white box with the Honeydukes logo lying smashed on the ground. The young witch bent down with curiosity to examine the object more closely.

'Who the heck is throwing away Ice Mice?' – she thought, puzzled.

* There's love potion inside the bonbons!

Life at Hogwarts continued as usual, with the small exception that Lily was furious at James and the rest of the boys for forging her handwriting and humiliating Snape. It seemed that she remained unaware of the actual person who physically wrote the letter, and Catherine had no intention of confessing to her, as the youngest descendant of Salazar Slytherin couldn't see any benefit in doing so. The last thing the black-haired girl wanted was another extended period of not speaking to her closest female friend.

Furthermore, it looked like the letter hadn't caused any irreparable damage. Snape and Lily appeared as close as ever, and the Slytherin boy didn't seem any grumpier or more depressed than usual.

'Maybe he didn't quite buy it in the first place and just wanted to check with Lily.' – the witch reasoned silently to herself.

One positive development was that Catherine saving Greg from Lavinia's love potion appeared to mend their strained relationship. While they hadn't yet found the opportunity to speak privately, he was once again behaving normally in the Common Room and interacting with her as he used to in the presence of others. Additionally, the new Dragonfire Delights proved to be incredibly tasty, prompting Catherine to exert extra effort in restraining herself from devouring them all at once.

"I don't understand why you like those so much." – Sirius remarked while they were waiting for Professor Thorne to open the DADA classroom door – "They're very spicy. I literally feel steam coming out of my nostrils!"

"You're exaggerating." – responded the young witch, tossing her long, thick braid across her shoulder – "I actually enjoy the intensity of the sensation, but I understand it might not be for the faint of heart."

Sirius was ready to argue, but Thorne's arrival interrupted him, and he sulkily followed the Gryffindors and Slytherins into the classroom.

"Today, we're going to have a practical lesson revising various Protection Spells." – announced the Professor to the third-years – "Since there's a good number of you, we can make this exercise a speed duelling. This means that you will exchange spells with your partner, then move to your left and repeat the process with another partner. The idea of this exercise is to allow you to face various casting styles and spell strength, improving your adaptation skills and breaking the routine of being paired with the same partner time and time again."

Excited discussions broke out among the students as the DADA teacher divided them into starting pairs and explained the sequence for changing partners.

"Now, remember we're practicing Protective Spells, so keep your attack hexes and jinxes mild. Once you've used the appropriate defence, move to your left and face your new partner. If they're still occupied, wait patiently until they're finished, and don't forget to maintain a safe distance from any pairs still exchanging spells." – the wizard calmly instructed, his sky-blue eyes flashing dangerously as he surveyed the room – "Do not attempt to use this class as an excuse for unauthorised duelling. You are going to regret it!"

The first portion of the class proceeded smoothly, with everyone practicing their protective spells alone, ensuring they maintained proper form and used the correct incantations. Catherine's first partner was Mary, and her Knockback Jinx was relatively easy to deflect. In turn, the black-haired witch used a very mild Trip Jinx, which unfortunately proved too strong for Mary's Shield Charm.

As Catherine moved left to face her new partner, Remus, she reluctantly acknowledged that Thorne may have had a point about her needing to control the power and intensity of her spells. Sometimes the principle of 'the more, the better' was not applicable, and this was one of those instances. Naturally, things went much more smoothly with Moony, especially since he was her usual DADA partner, and they were very familiar with each other's spells. However, the next person in line was Evan Rosier. Without hesitation, he sent a quite strong Stinging Jinx in Catherine's direction, which she fortunately managed to deflect, though she felt her Shield Charm strain under the force.

The rest of the practice duels unfolded in a similar manner. Facing Gryffindors proved a friendly, mutually beneficial exercise, while facing Slytherins became a true test to avoid spending the rest of the afternoon in the Hospital Wing. The young witch was tempted to use something like a Reflective Spell to send whatever they threw at her back at them, but she refrained, not wanting to risk detention. Instead, she alternated her defence between Protego, Defensuro, or Guardio which ensured adequate protection.

Catherine had to admit the exercise was pretty intense. By the last ten minutes of the class, she was exhausted, a thin film of sweat forming on her forehead.

'I think the most tiresome part is staying vigilant and ready to respond correctly to whatever comes your way.' – thought the girl as she moved left to face the last person she was supposed to duel.

Taking a deep breath and steadying herself, the young witch raised her wand. Her gaze locked with Snape's burning black eyes, and a knot formed in her throat. His face, unnaturally pale, bore a chilling smile that sent shivers down Catherine's spine. Waves of suffocating magic emanated from him, causing her to struggle for breath. It became evident to her that the prank had affected the Slytherin more deeply than she had anticipated. The lanky, black-haired boy now exuded pure hatred, making Catherine realise he was well-aware she had participated in the writing of the fake love letter.

In mere seconds, the confrontation escalated.

"Protego!" – yelled the black-haired girl, pouring all her strength into the shield charm.

"Calvario Totalus!" – Snape roared, his wand unleashing a beam of yellow light that streaked towards the witch with alarming speed.

Despite Catherine's efforts, the shield shattered upon impact, the force of Snape's spell knocking her to the ground. As the girl struggled to regain control of her body, her ears still ringing from the hex, she pushed herself up, determined to stand tall. Hair falling into her eyes, the witch hastily brushed it away, her anger mounting at being bested by the Slytherin.

'The fuck's going on, did my braid come loose?' – she thought, her hand instinctively reaching to gather the unruly black strands.

Her vision finally cleared out and to her horror, she saw her braid lay severed on the floor. A surge of panic flooded Catherine as her hands darted to her head, discovering nothing but smooth skin where her hair used to be.

"Oh, mighty Gorgon!" – Peter's voice quivered with terror.

"Flame!" – Sirius screamed, as he, James and Remus dashed towards their friend.

"Miss Plantier, can you stand up? Does it hurt anywhere?"- Professor Thorne's pale, worried face appeared before her as he gently assisted the girl to her feet.

Still reeling from confusion, Catherine raised her chin and caught her reflection in the mirrors lining the opposite wall of the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom.

A piercing scream tore through the corridors of Hogwarts, reverberating with Catherine's shock as she stared wide-eyed at her bald head, her lips trembling violently. While never considering herself vain, she cherished her long, straight, shiny hair as the one aspect of her appearance she took pride in as a teenage girl navigating the tumultuous waters of adolescence.

Choking from the humiliation, the Gryffindor's gaze landed on Snape, who stood arrogantly across from her, arms folded, his expression brimming with sadistic satisfaction. Their eyes met and he smirked with delight.

Catherine had never experienced such an overwhelming surge of anger. She felt a primal fury ignite within her. Every fibre of her being screamed for retribution, her focus narrowing to a singular desire: to make him suffer as she did. With a wild scream, she launched herself at the Slytherin, catching the young wizard off guard as her fist connected with his nose, breaking it with a sickening crack. Though she was only slightly taller and not much heavier than Snape, her rage fuelled her with a monstrous strength that belied her size.

Snape crumpled to the ground, blood streaming from his nose, completely stunned by the feral, untamed wrath emanating from his classmate, rendering her unable to speak coherently. As he rose to his feet, the boy found himself so taken aback by Catherine's reaction that he scarcely felt any pain. The Slytherin had anticipated Plantier would attempt to hex him and had steeled himself for it. However, physical violence had not even crossed his mind.

In that moment, the witch charged at him again, seemingly intent on landing another punch. Snape, aware of his own strength, knew he could potentially subdue her with a well-placed blow. He braced himself to do so, but at the last instant, he hesitated. Despite technically being a self-defence, the wizard couldn't bring himself to strike a girl, even if it was Catherine Plantier.

His moment of indecision proved costly as Catherine's fist found its mark, this time connecting with his chin. Spitting blood, Snape attempted to retreat, though it was unnecessary as Professor Thorne had finally managed to seize the kicking and screaming Gryffindor, restraining her with the Incarcerous Spell.

"Everybody out! Potter, Black, Lupin, that applies to you as well!" – Thorne shouted, his auburn hair all messed up and falling into his eyes – "Avery, take Snape to the Hospital Wing. I'll deal with him later!"

After the murmuring and complaints of the students finally subsided, Thorne wandlessly shut and locked the door. With the classroom now empty, he turned towards the miserable, sobbing witch, still bound by invisible ropes. As he swiftly revoked the spell, he could only stand by helplessly as his best friend's daughter dropped to her knees, tears of bitterness streaming down her face.

Catherine had never felt so utterly out of control. She, who always had a plan and remained calm and prepared in every scenario, found herself in a situation she had never anticipated.

"I want to go home!" – she mumbled weakly – "I can't take this anymore! I just can't!"

The young witch was taken aback as a warm embrace enveloped her, realising that Professor Thorne had settled on the floor beside her, his arms wrapping around her protectively.

"Shh, don't be ridiculous!" – he almost whispered somewhere above her head – "Your place is here, and you can't let those who hate you see how deeply they've hurt you. You can't give your enemies even a glimpse of your weakness!"

"They're going to laugh at me for years!" – the girl exclaimed desperately – "Hair-growth potion won't help here, would it?"

"Sadly, no." – sighed the teacher, gently rocking the young witch back in forth, attempting to calm her down – "But it's not permanent. Your hair will grow back on its own, though it'll take some time. And your Shield Charm was so good! The issue is that the thicker a barrier is, the easier it is to crack with enough concentrated force in a small spot."

"I didn't know that." – Catherine said, her face still red and puffy from crying, a hint of curiosity flickering in her green eyes as she looked at Thorne.

Carsilion had never felt more tempted to reveal his true identity to the girl. Seeing her as the strong, stubborn, and powerful witch she usually was had made it relatively easy for him to maintain his alias, acting as her shadow protector, ensuring her safety, and remaining vigilant for hidden dangers such as other aristocrats or individuals like Lucius Malfoy. However, this was a completely different scenario. Holding her like that reminded him of how fragile she really was, still a child forced to grow up way too fast.

As the sobbing finally ceased, the DADA Professor released his student, though he continued to watch her every move with concern.

"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" – he asked worriedly.

"No, I'm fine…" – Catherine replied quietly – "I just don't know how I'm going to walk through the whole castle looking like this."

"I would say doing it with friends would be the easiest way. And I believe they're all waiting outside for you." – the teacher responded, offering a slight smile.

Catherine nodded appreciatively and headed towards the door. Just before opening it, she paused and spoke without turning back.

"Thank you, Sir."

Author's note: Well, this was emotionally very heavy chapter and it's very hard when nobody's truly innocent but I do hope you liked it :)

~Sailea~