Lightning flickered through the leaded windows, casting eerie shadows on the stone walls of the Gryffindor Common room. Thunder rolled ominously, shaking the very foundations of the castle as torrential rain pounded against its sturdy ramparts. The merry chatter of students engaged in evening activities provided a stark contrast to the furious October storm raging outside.
Catherine, settled into a weathered burgundy armchair was deeply engrossed in her book, with the flames from the fireplace casting a warm, dancing light across her serene face. Her eyes were quickly darting through the pages of the old blue volume named Beasts and Banshees: Folklore of the British Isles. A lightning struck nearby, prompting the young witch to jump nervously, her hand instinctively searching for her missing braid.
'Pull yourself together!' – she scolded herself – 'It's just an autumn storm and this is nothing but a silly book full of legends! I'm probably on edge because I'm exhausted.'
The past weeks had indeed been tiresome for the young witch. With the intense Quidditch practice and her morning running sessions with James, she had to wake up at six-thirty almost every day of the week. Meanwhile, due to the increased number and volume of assignments, Catherine had not been able to go to sleep before midnight, often dozing off over a runic translation or a Transfiguration essay. The worst part was that even when she finally managed to get to bed, her sleep was far from peaceful. More often than not, she had horrible nightmares of severed human parts and puddles of blood where she could never see her face. These dreams were distinctly different from those she had experienced before. There was no additional information about her past lives to console her. They were just a torturous product of her mind, leaving her not wanting to sleep at all and waking up more exhausted than if she had spent the entire night awake.
Furthermore, something odd was going on in the dormitory. Recently, the room was a complete mess almost every morning. The girls' belongings were thrown around the floor, and even though they tried to lock their trunks, they still ended up being opened. After the initial suspicion from Gwyneth about some of the boys being the culprit was overruled due to the spell preventing them from entering the girls' premises, Catherine's only plausible explanation was that either one of them was sleepwalking or it was Peeve's doing. She was not certain if the poltergeist could enter their room, but at this point, the fourth-year just couldn't come up with any better ideas.
'I'll ask Dumbledore when I meet him on Tuesday.' – the girl decided, stretching her arms. She had received an invitation for a lesson with the Headmaster the previous morning and was anxiously awaiting their meeting.
"What are you reading with such a terrified expression? Is it for History of Magic? Then count me scared too!" – Sirius exclaimed, grabbing the book from Catherine's hands and flipping through its worn pages with exaggerated curiosity.
"Hey! Give it back! How many times have I told you not to do this?" – the girl protested, jumping from the armchair in a futile attempt to reclaim her treasured volume.
"Three hundred fifty-five times, if my count is correct." – James interjected with a mischievous grin, joined by Peter Pettigrew who chuckled in agreement.
Sirius sighed dramatically, waving the book in front of James' face. "I was hoping for something more thrilling—like forbidden spells or dark potions! Even a dirty novel would suffice, but why waste time on ghost dogs?"
"It's not just about ghost dogs! It's a collection of tales about legendary creatures from British folklore." – Catherine retorted defensively – "I read it because I like it!"
'And because I hoped it might reveal something linking Alecto and Morgana.' - the girl thought as she once again attempted to get a hold of her book. James, however, had excellent reflexes, and the game suited his current mood. He quickly leaped to the nearest sofa, scaring away a few second-years in the process.
"Yeah, right! That's why you jumped every time the thunders cracked outside." – he teased – "You may attempt to look tough, Miss Plantier, but just admit that you enjoy being scared senseless by a terrifying story… about…Padfoot? What a stupid name is that?!"
"It's a shaggy black ghost dog said to haunt travellers in Lancashire." – Catherine explained, trying to salvage her dignity.
"Merlin, it looks ugly!" – Sirius barked a laugh as he peered over James' shoulder at a disturbingly vivid illustration of Padfoot, taking up an entire page.
"Are you done mocking me?" – the young witch hissed, finally snatching her book back and retreating to her armchair, her lips pursed in irritation.
"Oh, come on, Flame! We're just kidding around!" – Sirius grinned, casually taking a seat on one of the armrests – "As far as I'm concerned, you can read all the ghost dogs books you can find! I'm also available in case you need some cuddling to overcome your fears!"
"Go to hell!" – came the girl's kind response.
"If we want any progress on the map tonight, we should start now, mate, or she might send us to the Hospital Wing!" – James suggested, settling onto the opposite armrest.
"You do have a point!" – Sirius agreed, pulling out a folded piece of parchment and tapping it with his wand – "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"
The familiar ink lines of Hogwarts appeared instantly on the surface. Catherine sighed, trying to push down her irritation. While Sirius' project intrigued her, it wasn't her priority at the moment.
"Too bad Moony's missing out this!" – Peter murmured, eyeing the still empty map longingly.
"He's going to be back tomorrow, and it'd be great if we can greet him with a working map." – James said, brandishing his wand – "Let's start with the Inquisitus Imprintum Spell first. If it's successful, we can proceed with the Homonculous Charm."
"I agree!" – Sirius nodded, his wand moving in an elaborate, complicated pattern above the parchment. He cleared his throat and stated decisively – "Inquisitus Imprintum!"
The map shined brightly with silver light, and then a myriad of black dots appeared across the castle's rooms and halls.
"It worked!" – Peter exclaimed in awe.
"Yup! Now, the Homonculous Charm!" – James said with concentration, tapping the map – "Creatura Vivifica!"
The four Gryffindors stared tensely at the parchment. Thirty seconds passed in silence before the dots on the maps started moving around.
"I can't believe it actually worked!" – Sirius whispered happily – "We spent so much time on this; it feels unreal that it's finally done!"
"Not yet." – Catherine noted, extracting a pin from her pocket – "Now, we move to the hardest part. Let's hope my spell will be strong enough to maintain the enchantments without needing constant recasting."
"I don't like this part with using your blood." – Sirius frowned, watching as the young witch pierced her ring finger with the pin.
"I've told you, blood is a pretty common source for lasting spells. It doesn't endanger me in any way. It just ties the magic to me."
What Catherine didn't disclose to her friends, however, was the spell's true purpose. Her blood alone couldn't sustain such a complex web of enchantments. Instead, she used it to tether the map directly to the castle itself. While uncertain of its success, she was confident that such a spell could only be performed by someone from her family or possibly the Headmaster of the school. Thus, it was unlikely anyone else would uncover her secret.
"Perpetuum Locus Nobilis Heres!" – the young witch murmured, concentrating intensely on the scarlet drop of blood gleaming on the bottom of the map's surface. For a brief moment, it appeared as if a net of tiny strings sprang from it in every direction before vanishing completely.
"Was it successful?" – Peter asked impatiently.
"We shall see. This is a spell of my own design. If the map works without issue over the next few weeks, then we can deem it successful." – the girl replied thoughtfully.
"I'm really fascinated by how you manage to create all these spells! I can't come up with a single one!" – complained Sirius.
"It takes time and persistence, Sirius." – Catherine shrugged – "You lack the patience to see the process through."
"You'd be surprised how patient he can be when he really wants something." – James smirked, earning a furious glare from his best friend – "Anyway, now that the map is more or less working, we shall probably test it?"
"I think we should go and check that Room of Requirement the Grey Lady told me about." – the young witch suggested.
"I can't believe you managed to outsmart the Ravenclaw House ghost!" – Peter grinned – "We're lucky you weren't sorted into their House."
'Luck had nothing to do with it.' – thought the girl, but she smiled nonetheless. Despite her initial disappointment when the Sorting Hat hadn't comply with her wishes, she had been quite happy in Gryffindor, destined perhaps to end up there with the boys.
"We can do it tomorrow evening?" – James proposed.
"I can't. I've got detention." – Sirius said gloomily.
"Again?" – Catherine asked, rolling her eyes.
"It wasn't my fault!" – the wizard exclaimed defensively – "I had a bit of a… disagreement with that prat Augustus Zabini, and since he's now a Prefect…"
"If you keep this up, you're about to earn detentions from every single Prefect in the school." – Catherine noted sarcastically.
"It's an honour I'll proudly accept!" – Sirius grinned – "Back to the question, let's check the Room of Requirement on Tuesday instead!"
"I have a lesson with Dumbledore at 8 that evening. I should be done around 9:30. We can meet on the 7th floor." – the young witch suggested.
"Are you going to be alright?" – James asked softly – "You mentioned using true fire might have some physical consequences."
"Yes, but I don't expect to be able to actually use it on the first try. So, I don't foresee any issues on Tuesday." – Catherine reassured him.
"Alright! Tuesday evening it is!" – Sirius nodded – "Peter, are you in, mate?"
"I… yes…" – the boy stuttered, his face turning crimson – "I just need to cut my date short."
"You have a date?!" – the other three teenagers exclaimed in an utter shock, staring at their friend in disbelief.
Monday evening found Catherine in the Library, deeply engrossed in her Ancient Runes homework. She was still grappling with the pronunciation in Lumerith, feeling personally challenged after Professor Oakenscript had praised Snape's flawless articulation and rewarded Slytherin with ten points. "Lumenaris exidium, velorrras thar doth arrrrden yath dorrr vakorr." * – the young witch read softly – "No, it's still not correct!"
"Because you're not quite hitting the 'r' sounds correctly." - remarked Gwendolyn Lockhart, settling into the seat next to the fourth-year.
"Please, not you too! It's enough that I have Snivellus correcting me all the time!" – the girl moaned.
"Well, he's not wrong. Attention to detail is crucial if you want your rituals to be effective." – the older witch replied with a casual smile.
"Do Ravenclaws have any concept of kindness?" – Catherine asked helplessly.
"Not when it comes to knowledge. It's not kindness to let someone persist in error when you can help them improve." – Gwendolyn replied.
"Sure…" – the black-haired girl sighed, still not entirely convinced – "I just can't seem to figure out why I struggle so much with this!"
"The four known ancient languages each have distinct pronunciations. Selenithra is soft, emphasising vowels like e, o, and u. Sylvanor is clear and crisp, focusing on sibilants and stops. Murkantar is intense and resonant, with guttural consonants and deep vowels." – the seventh-year explained – "Some may come easier to you than others. It's fascinating, though I'm unsure what determines this. Remember, struggling with Lumerith now doesn't mean you won't master it eventually. Don't rush your education!"
"Thanks for the encouragement." – the other witch smiled appreciatively – "By the way, Gwendolyn, have you heard the expression: Luxen dor vakor thar eradon dor ethel, venith tharnath dor yath ther dor elder?"
"Light and darkness are one and whole, though they seem to dwell in different forms." – the Ravenclaw stated thoughtfully.
"Yeah, I know that's how you translate it, but I'm curious about its origin and true meaning." – Catherine said, sensing the familiarity with the phrase she couldn't quite place.
"It's a common formula found in various sources, often used in rituals. As for its origin, I'm not sure." – Gwendolyn remarked, deeply in thought, her blue eyes, staring at the distance – "Perhaps, I can ask my older sister Giselle. She graduated two years ago, you probably don't know her. She currently works as researcher with the Mystic Hollow Institute in the United States, specialising in History of Magic. There's a higher chance of her knowing about the origin of the phrase than me. I prefer a more practical approach to Ancient Magic."
"If you don't mind, please ask her." – the Gryffindor agreed, deciding it was time to call it a night.
"I'll include it in my next letter to her." – the older girl nodded, adding with a smile – "If her response proves to be intriguing enough, we'll probably discuss it during Christmas with our whole family. They're all academics, and such topics are cherished at our dinner table!"
"Sounds… lovely." – Catherine responded, unsure about her feelings toward her friend's family traditions.
"It's not everyone's cup of tea." – Gwendolyn chuckled – "My younger brother hates it profoundly, but he's a bit different from the rest of us. You'll see next year when he starts attending Hogwarts."
"Looking forward to it." – the young witch replied mechanically, pondering what exactly registered as 'different' in the Lockhart family.
* May the light banish darkness, revealing truth and peace.
Tuesday started quite ordinarily for Catherine. She woke up at six-thirty, swiftly gathered her belongings from the floor, and dressed in leggings and a long-sleeve shirt before meeting James outside. Despite it being mid-October, the mornings were chilly and damp. The young witch had grown accustomed to the intensity of their workout routine, feeling physically stronger despite the boys' concerns about her weight. Unfortunately, her mental state was not as robust. Persistent bad dreams were beginning to wear on her nerves. What troubled her even more was the chaos that greeted them in their bedroom each morning. While the other blamed Peeves for the mess, Catherine couldn't shake the feeling that it might somehow be connected to her. The one night she hadn't had nightmares coincided with the only time everything in the room was in its place, further fuelling her suspicions.
The fourth-year longed to share this burden with someone. While Greg was theoretically an option, she hesitated, not wanting to worry him. She was painfully aware that strange occurrences in her family had always been linked to the demon she carried.
'At least I can talk with Dumbledore tonight.' – Catherine thought as she stepped out of the shower. Although the girl usually enjoyed the refreshing feel of water on her skin after a workout, she now avoided the showers during busy hours. The young witch had found out with annoyance that she felt extremely uncomfortable being naked around her female classmates. The Gryffindor was fully aware that nobody had really looked in her way twice, but the uneasiness persisted nonetheless. That's why Catherine dressed up in her school uniform as quickly as possible, purposefully avoiding her reflection in the mirrors.
Classes seemed to drag on longer than usual. Ancient Runes was particularly challenging; Catherine's pronunciation remained far from perfect, while Snape was once again praised by Professor Oakenscript who made him read passages from his homework in front of the entire class. The black-haired girl wasn't irritated by his success itself. What infuriated her, however, was the Slytherin glancing at her with a slight smirk playing on his thin lips, every time he pronounced a word containing the difficult 'r' sounds she struggled with.
By dinner time, the fourth-year Gryffindor already had a headache, exacerbated by the usual noise of students chatting excitedly. The upcoming Halloween Ball dominated every conversation, accompanied by plenty of giggles and whispers. Catherine, who was in no mood for thinking about that particular set of problems at that moment, finished her meal in a record time and headed towards Dumbledore's office.
She paused at the door, taking a moment to steady herself. It felt as though she was about to leap into a bottomless chasm. 'Stop being such a scaredy cat!' – the girl scolded herself and knocked firmly.
"Come in!" – came the Headmaster's voice from within. Catherine had always found something special and comforting about the large circular room, filled with murmurs from the many portraits hanging on the walls. Dumbledore's countless unusual magical artifacts glinted in the candlelight, some of them emitting a hypnotic buzz. Fawkes was taking a nap, his head tucked beneath one of his magnificent crimson wings.
"Good evening, Professor." – the young witch greeted politely.
"Good evening, my dear!" – the Professor beamed warmly at his student – "I trust you've had some time to recover, for we have much to cover tonight."
"More or less." – the girl mumbled under her breath. Catching Dumbledore's questioning look, she added – "I have a headache."
The wizard swiftly stood up and opened one of the nearby cupboards, retrieving a small bottle filled with red liquid.
"This is a special recipe from Professor Slughorn." – Dumbledore explained with a smile as he handed Catherine the vial – "Effective, though it takes a while to work."
"Thank you, Sir." – the girl replied, downing the surprisingly bitter remedy.
"Yes, the taste isn't great." – the Headmaster commented with a twinkle in his blue eyes, peering over his half-moon spectacles – "Please, take a seat. Before we begin the practical aspect of our lesson, there are a few matters we ought to discuss."
"What's there to discuss?" – Catherine asked, her tone defensive as she settled into one of the plush armchairs by Dumbledore's desk. Her mind raced, preparing for any unexpected questions she might need to deflect regarding certain activities she was certain the Professor wouldn't approve of.
"To start, I wanted to ask if you've had any more dreams you'd like to talk about." – the older wizard smiled empathically at the tensed expression on the fourth-year's face.
Catherine took a deep breath and fixed her green eyes on the Headmaster. "I haven't had any dreams like the ones I had before, but I've been having trouble sleeping because of constant nightmares. In them, I see people being tortured and killed in horrible ways… by me."
"My dear girl, you must understand that none of the things you've seen, no matter how real they felt, were committed by you!" – Dumbledore's voice held urgency – "You are your own person, and the atrocities that demon wrought through your unfortunate ancestors are not your responsibility, nor can you be blamed for them!"
"Easier said than done." – the Gryffindor sighed heavily – "I try to believe it, but it's very hard when I can feel what she feels. It's so disgusting… Sometimes I feel like I can't stand being myself anymore."
"This is exactly what she wants, isn't it?" – said the wizard, prompting the young witch to stare at him in confusion – "As I've said before, Catherine, I believe for the demon to break through the barrier, she needs to isolate you and make you feel alone and desperate enough that you're willing to give up control. Then, she'll be there to take it from you and consume your soul in the process."
Catherine felt her throat dry as parchment. Summoning all her courage, she managed to mumble with tremendous effort. "Then what should I do, Sir?"
"In my opinion, you're doing very well on your own, my dear!" – Dumbledore smiled encouragingly – "Follow your instincts and lean on your friends. Their love and companionship protect you far better than I or your family ever could. I also believe that learning to use true fire will further strengthen your resilience against any influence the demon may have on you."
"Professor, there's something else I need to tell you about." – Catherine hesitated briefly before deciding to disclose the strange occurrences in the girls' dormitory. The Headmaster listened attentively, his expression unreadable.
"Do you think it could be Peeves' doing?" – the girl finally asked, her hope dwindling.
"Peeves can't enter the premises of the Common Rooms and the Dormitories." – the old wizard answered contemplatively – "I'm not entirely sure what is happening, but please let me know if anything else occurs besides finding your belongings scattered every morning. In any case, once you gain some degree of control over true fire, I'll begin teaching you Occlumency. To prepare for that, I'd like you to try clearing your mind every night before you go to sleep."
"Alright, but can't I start learning Occlumency now?" – asked the girl impatiently.
"Training to be an Elementalist is incredibly demanding and exhausting, despite your undeniable talent, Catherine." – Dumbledore warned with a slight smile – "I wouldn't risk your health by adding the complexity of Occlumency on top of it. We'll get to that eventually."
"You're the teacher." – the young witch said sulkily, dreading another sleepless night ahead.
"Technically, I'll be your Master of Fire which is the correct terminology for your Elemental Magic instructor." – the Headmaster noted with a slight smirk under his white beard.
"I know that." – said Catherine, still perturbed.
"As you know very well, the first step for every Elementalist is to open themselves to their respective element." – Dumbledore explained, pretending not to notice his student's dissatisfaction – "It's akin to entering a meditative state that allows you to connect with your element and eventually use it in various ways. Over time, it becomes almost instinctual, but initially, it may take considerable time and effort to learn."
"How will I know if I've achieved it?" – asked the girl eagerly, leaning forward in her chair.
"Oh, believe me, you'll know." – the wizard assured her – "When you're attuned to your element, you perceive reality differently. Your senses sharpen, and in our case, you become aware of every flicker of fire in your surroundings. And, of course, the glowing eyes are a physical manifestation of this state."
Catherine felt uneasy at the thought of herself with gleaming red eyes, the mark of a Fire Mage. Erin's reflection flashed in her mind, causing her whole body to shudder with anxiety. Despite this, the young witch forced herself to concentrate on the Headmaster's explanation, determined to master true fire as quickly as possible.
"Every element requires a different approach. That's why a Fire Mage can only be taught by a fellow Fire Mage." – Dumbledore continued, pacing slowly around the room while the portraits were listening attentively, some nodding with approval – "I've once heard a Water Mage explain that opening yourself to the soul of the water is all about surrendering and trust. It's quite different with true fire. You need to discover something inside you that gives you power and strength. You must confront true fire and emerge victorious so it will obey you."
"How do I do that, Sir?" – asked the young witch, who didn't feel quite in a fighting mood.
"You must figure it out for yourself." – the wizard replied, shaking his head – "It's one of the most challenging aspects of training. Your power source could be anything – an emotion, feeling, desire, idea, goal, or even a duty."
"Does this mean your power source can change?" – asked the girl, pondering what hers might be.
"Sometimes." – Dumbledore nodded – "It happened to me."
"Really? How so?" – Catherine asked, realising it might be a rather personal question.
"I once invested too much of myself into the wrong idea and the wrong person. It ended in disaster for many because of my misjudgement." – the Headmaster said softly, his eyes darkening for a moment – "Afterward, my source of power changed because my reason for fighting became protecting those who needed it."
"I don't think I'm that noble." – the fourth-year murmured to herself.
"It's not about being noble; it's about atoning for the sins I committed." – explained the wizard, his blue eyes flashing for a mere second before returning to their calm demeanour – "Regardless, when you settle on your power source, you must transform it into raw power. Imagine it as a sword or another weapon you hold in your hand. Once you achieve this, your affinity will do the rest. The fire around you will resist, and you must overcome it. If your weapon is strong enough, the fire will yield to you, allowing you to manipulate it. That's how you'll know you're open to your element."
"What's going to happen if my power source isn't strong enough to withstand the surrounding fire?" – asked the girl anxiously.
"Well, it's not a pleasant sensation, but it's not fatal." – Dumbledore replied with a slight smile – "I'll give you a brief moment and you can try whenever you're ready."
Catherine nodded and closed her eyes. She started thinking franticly about what could be a power source that was strong enough to subdue fire itself.
'An emotion, feeling, desire, idea, goal, or duty…' – she mused, nervously biting her lower lip – 'For as long as I can remember I was taught I should control my emotions and feelings, to be composed and do not surrender to impulses… Is it possible that I don't even have a strong enough power source? No! I must think harder!'
The young witch suddenly remembered her primary motivation for mastering this skill on the first place: to secure her rightful place and survive. It was a strong goal and also her duty as a daughter of the McMahon family. The girl nodded with determination and attempted to extract her resolve and shape it into a dagger. In her mind, she pictured the Skyfall Athame, every detail vivid and elaborated.
A fierce heat enveloped her, and Catherine felt as if the blood was boiling in her veins. Her breath was burning in her chest, suffocating the teenager. She opened her eyes, and for a brief moment, she thought she saw the faint outlines of a dagger in her hand, but it disappeared almost instantly, causing the fourth-year to collapse on the floor and retch up her dinner onto the Headmaster's beautiful burgundy carpet.
Trembling violently, Catherine felt Dumbledore's firm grasp as he lifted her back into the armchair. She met his understanding gaze, reassured by his calm demeanour as he swiftly cleaned his carpet with a flick of his wand and conjured a bowl of ice cubes.
"Take some of these and place them on your face for a few moments." – he advised – "Ice is the best remedy when training to be a Fire Mage."
"I guess I screwed up." – Catherine sighed, applying the cold cubes to her face and finding instantaneous relief as they immediately melted upon touching her heated skin.
"Your power source wasn't quite strong enough, but it held for a bit, which is promising." – Dumbledore praised her – "It's natural to struggle with this. Achieving mastery over true fire is an arduous task, and setbacks are to be expected."
The girl gritted her teeth. Time was slipping away, and she couldn't afford to falter now. Failure was not an option she could accept.
'Perhaps I need something more positive.' – the young witch thought, her brow furrowing – 'Maybe love could be the key. But what kind of love?'
Catherine briefly considered her friends, but her feelings toward them had become too complicated recently. Instead, she focused on her love for her family. Despite their challenges, she had no doubts she genuinely loved them.
With renewed determination, she closed her eyes again, visualising her love for her family transforming into a strong, agile bow and a quiver brimming with arrows. Anticipating the surge of heat that followed, she kept her focus until her eyes opened to glimpse the outline of a magnificent silver bow in her hands. It held for about ten seconds before dissipating into nothingness.
The sudden cold sensation on her face and neck brought the young witch back to consciousness. Dumbledore was gently holding her hand, a soft blue light emanating from his palm.
"You burnt your skin a little bit, my girl. That was a very close attempt. I believe it's enough for one evening. Your progress has been commendable."
"No!" – the girl hissed defiantly – "I can do it! Just one more try!"
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Catherine struggled with the idea that her inability to summon strong enough emotions was hindering her mastery of elemental magic. She refused to accept defeat, especially when control over true fire seemed so within reach. The memory of Snape's smirk in Ancient Runes class fuelled her determination, as she imagined his gloating if he knew of her current struggles. Suppressing her rising frustration, the Gryffindor refocused on the task at hand.
'Great! I spent most of my life confined, and now I have nothing to use as a power source! The most exciting thing that happened to me was coming to Hogwarts, and it was tainted because I have to pretend to be someone else!' – the young witch fumed unable to stop her body from shaking with rage – 'Now I can't even focus on opening myself to true fire because I'm so angry! Unless…'
Catherine gasped with sudden realisation. Pouring all her anger into the shape of a sword with a straight, slender blade engraved with dancing flame motifs, she opened her eyes to find a golden blade shimmering in her hand. The familiar heat enveloped her, but this time it felt different. The sword pulsed as if alive, absorbing every wave of fire that came its way. In that moment, she finally understood what Dumbledore meant. Every trace of fire in the room became clearly visible and present to her. She distinctly felt Fawkes, now awake and observing the lesson. Dumbledore's presence and power were also painfully evident; she was surprised by how intimately she could sense his every move and the way he handled his magic. Their eyes met briefly. Catherine couldn't contain her emotions anymore; she wanted something she couldn't even explain to herself, but instinctively she knew how to get. It was so close – at the very tips of her fingers. The intensity of that unfamiliar desire scared her. She closed her eyes, and instantly all sensations vanished.
The young witch remained in that state for a while, battling the rising dizziness. When she finally opened her eyes again, Dumbledore had placed a tall glass of what appeared to be iced coffee in front of her.
"It's better if you drink it." – he said in an unusual tone – "Coffee always helps overcome nausea during practice."
"Sir?" – the girl started hesitantly – "Is something wrong? I thought I did well?"
"You did remarkably, Catherine." – Dumbledore affirmed, avoiding her gaze.
"Then what's wrong?" – she asked, taking a sip from the refreshing beverage.
"It's a bit hard to explain." – the Headmaster responded dryly – "It's better if I show you. Do you think you could open yourself to true fire once more?"
"I guess…" – the Gryffindor said wearily. She concentrated, searching for the anger needed to summon her power once more. Conveniently, the image of Carter Thorne appeared before her. This proved to be more than enough to infuriate the girl. The golden sword shimmered back into her hand. Reality seemed hotter and drier, with every object brighter than before. Catherine looked around, mesmerised by the heightened senses. Dumbledore moved slowly beside her, his hand sweeping across the surface of his desk, transforming it into a mirror. Confused, Catherine looked at him, only to find his eyes glowing vividly red. He nodded toward the reflective surface. Startled, the young witch glanced into it and gasped, covering her mouth with her hands in surprise.
"My eyes! Why are they glowing green?!" – she choked out, her astonishment breaking her concentration and causing her to lose control of her element once again, which was accompanied by sickness and cold sweat.
"I have no idea, my girl." – the Headmaster stated sincerely – "It is the first time I've seen or heard of anything like this!"
"But I'm a Fire Mage, aren't I?" – she asked, feeling completely drained.
"Undoubtedly!" – Dumbledore confirmed, taking a seat next to the exhausted student – "And a quite capable one, at that, being able to open yourself to true fire during your first practice, not only once but twice. As for the colour of your eyes..."
"Do you have any idea what could have caused it?" – Catherine interrupted him, on the verge of tears. She really hated complications and they were everywhere around her these days.
"A few theories, each more bizarre than the last." – the older wizard admitted – "For now, it doesn't seem dangerous or to interfere with your powers in any way. I'll reach out to a few friends who are also Fire Mages. Perhaps one of them will know what could cause such an anomaly."
"I thought there weren't any other Fire Mages in Britain besides you and me." – said the young witch curiously.
"I've never said they lived in Britain." – Dumbledore smiled, stroking the phoenix's feathers as the bird landed in his lap, cooing softly – "As a matter of fact, even my own Master of Fire wasn't British. Unfortunately, he passed away a decade ago."
"I'm sorry, Sir. I know there's a special bond between a Master and their students." – Catherine said empathically.
"That's very true." – the older wizard confirmed softly – "He led a good and fulfilling life, and I'm still in touch with his son, who's a remarkable wizard in his own right."
"Is he a Fire Mage too?" – asked the fourth-year, hoping she was not prying too much into her professor's private life.
"Sadly, no." – Dumbledore answered thoughtfully – "Even if a father is a Fire Mage, there is a very slim chance his children will be born with an affinity for fire. It's unknown why the number of Fire Mages has decreased so rapidly, but some estimates suggest less than 0.5% of all wizards are inclined to fire, and the proportion of Dragons among them is exceedingly low."
"I suppose I won't know about my type any time soon." – Catherine stated hesitantly.
"Don't rush, dear. There's plenty of time before we could determine this for certain. First, you need to actually be able to summon true fire, not only open yourself to your element. This is our next task." – the Headmaster responded with a twinkle behind his glasses.
"I think I know how." – the girl remarked, thinking about the odd sensation she had felt earlier, as if she needed to desperately do something.
"Instinctive knowledge is common for Fire Mages above the Salamander level, but putting it into practice is quite another matter." – Dumbledore commented, settling back to his chair behind the desk – "However, I must insist that you refrain from attempting to open yourself to true fire without me present for the time being. It's a necessary precaution, given the circumstances."
"I understand, Professor." – Catherine agreed solemnly, finishing her iced coffee – "May I go now?"
"Yes, of course. Have some rest! See you at the same time in two weeks." – the Headmaster dismissed her.
The girl had already opened the door and was on her way out when his voice prompted her to turn back.
"Catherine! I hope the food at Hogwarts is to your liking."
"It is, and I'm already eating plenty of it…sir!" – she replied, blushing slightly, before quickly leaving and heading towards the seventh floor.
Recalling the events that followed, Catherine struggled to comprehend how she had managed to traverse the distance from Dumbledore's office to the left corridor of the seventh floor. Her headache had returned, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Consequently, she took two wrong turns, prolonging her journey significantly. Aware that it was well past curfew, the young witch navigated the corridors, anxiously eyeing every shadow that might have been Filch, Mrs Norris, or worse – Carter Thorne.
When the fourth-year finally stopped in front of the infamous tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet, she saw no one around. Growling with annoyance, Catherine dropped her school bag to the floor and settled beside it, disregarding her discomfort caused by the cold, unforgiving stone tiles. She was utterly drained and in dire need for a moment of rest.
"Do you have any idea how long we've been waiting for you?!" – Sirius snapped, suddenly appearing alongside Peter and James, who proceeded to diligently fold his invisibility cloak.
"No." – the young witch replied curtly.
"Well… a lot!" – the boy said, but then he quickly squatted next to his friend, studying her face with concern – "Are you feeling ill? How did the lesson go?"
"It went fine. I actually managed to open myself to true fire, but it was incredibly exhausting. Now I feel like I've been running for hours, and on top of that, I'm dizzy and my head hurts."
"At least you're not throwing up!" – James tried to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, I've already done that right in front of Dumbledore." – the young witch admitted, embarrassed.
"I'm sure he's seen worse." – Sirius remarked, gently helping Catherine to her feet – "Do you think you can walk? I mean, it's not that I can't carry you, but I know you're not keen on being handled like a ragdoll."
"I'm fine, thanks for being so considered." – the black-haired girl replied with a smirk, although she was impressed by how closely Sirius had paid attention to her wishes, despite not always adhering to them.
"Let's check out that Room of Requirement already!" – James suggested eagerly, peering at a piece of parchment that was likely the map.
"According to the Gray Lady, we need to pass through here three times while thinking about what we need before the door appears." – Catherine said contemplatively – "I suppose we can agree on a place where we can brew the Animagi Potion without being found by anyone?"
"Sounds good!" – James nodded and the four students slowly walked past the tapestry three times in deep concentration.
"Look at that!" – gasped Peter as a small wooden door appeared on the wall opposite the tapestry. The Gryffindors wasted no time and entered into a spacious, dimly lit room with a crackling fireplace in one corner. Its fire cast flickering shadows on the bare walls. The chamber was filled with wooden tables and shelves laden with an array of glass vials, herbs, and basic potion ingredients neatly labelled and organised. A collection of leather-bound volumes stood at a small bookcase beside a cupboard stocked with all sorts of tools: cauldrons, scales, phials, mortars and pestles, and knives made from various materials.
"It's perfect!" – Catherine exclaimed with a happy smile – "I can't believe such a place exists and most people don't even suspect it!"
"And it's better if it stays that way." – Sirius remarked, checking every corner of the premise – "We can already bring the ingredients we have and prepare everything for the brewing the potion."
"We're just missing the phoenix feather and the Mandrake's leaves before we can start, right?" – asked James.
"Yes." – the girl confirmed, examining the ingredients the room had prepared for them – "The Mandrake leaves are to be added last because we have to keep them in our mouths for a month first, and we also need to check if Professor Sprout has matured plants available."
"What about the phoenix?" – Sirius inquired – "I remember you said you had a plan?"
"Dumbledore has a phoenix. We just have to lure him out of his office during one of my lessons with him. You know the drill!" – the young witch said, a mischievous grin playing on her lips.
"I'm shocked you're planning on plucking the Headmaster's familiar!" – Sirius exclaimed dramatically – "If I didn't knew better, I'd think you were a Slytherin, Miss Plantier!"
"Didn't you and James do the same thing to Hagrid to get the Thestral hair?" – Catherine retorted with a smirk – "You can't blame me for taking a page out of your book!"
"Not exactly. I didn't need to give the Thestral a haircut! I just grabbed the hair from Hagrid's hut and ran away." – James chuckled – "But seriously, isn't it dangerous to just approach a phoenix like that? I'd imagine it wouldn't take kindly to having its feathers plucked."
"Yeah, that's why you first offer a magical stone as a tribute." – the girl explained, trying to suppress her unease about the task ahead – "Don't worry. Even if something goes wrong, the phoenix fire won't hurt me. At least not as much as it would a normal person."
"And you think that's reassuring?" – Sirius asked in disbelief – "It sounds far more dangerous than what James and I did, and you were mad at us for a week!"
"I'll be fine." – the witch attempted to comfort her friends, as well as herself – "In any case, we don't have much of a choice here. I can't think of any other way to acquire this ingredient. Can you?"
The silence that followed confirmed her assumption. Taking a deep breath, she headed towards the door, already creating a mental checklist of all the steps for preparing the potion which she already knew by heart.
"Wait!" – James halted her – "It's past curfew. Since we can't all fit under the invisibility cloak, maybe three of us should go now, and I'll return to pick up the one who stays behind."
"That sounds complicated." – Catherine complained – "Didn't we create the map so we could move around freely? Let's use it!"
"Well, there's a bit of a flaw we didn't foresee." – Sirius sighed gloomily.
"What flaw? I thought it was working fine!" – the girl asked, unpleasantly surprised.
"We can see if someone's in a certain place or moving towards us, but we don't know who." – James explained irritably – "We almost hexed Peter because he arrived earlier than expected, and we didn't know the dot was him!"
"Nora had to return to the Common Room. She didn't want to get caught after curfew." – the short wizard explained sulkily – "I practically ruined our date because of being distracted by constantly checking the time."
"Aww, poor Peter!" – James chuckled – "That's what you get for dating a third-year. They go to bed early!"
"Are you talking about Nora Dawson?" – Catherine asked, amused by Peter's flushed face.
"Yes, but if you must know, she's much more mature than even the fifth-years!" – the boy fiercely defended his girlfriend.
"Hey, you're the one dating her, not me! You don't owe me any explanations." – the girl smirked, while James and Sirius were giggling – "Stop that, you two! At least he'll have someone to bring to the Halloween Ball! We'll see who's laughing then!"
"I can have a date for the Ball if I want one!" – Sirius boasted, his laughter fading.
"Sure you can." – Catherine replied condescendingly, relishing in teasing her friend. Deep down, she knew he was right, but sometimes his arrogance needed a not-so-gentle knockdown.
Eventually, the group decided that James, Peter and Catherine would go first under the cover of the invisibility cloak, with James returning later for Sirius, who would wait inside the Room of Requirement.
"Seriously, Flame, do you think we can upgrade the map to also show people's names?" – James whispered as they were walking towards the Gryffindor Tower.
"That would be fantastic!" – Peter chimed in – "We could also mark the Room of Requirement on it while we're at it!"
"I think it's safer to leave that out for now." – Catherine mused, fighting off another wave of dizziness – "Especially while we're brewing the potion. It's a security measure in case the map falls into the wrong hands. As for showing names, I'm not sure how feasible it is or how we could achieve it."
"I was thinking we could modify a Human-presence-revealing Spell." – James persisted – "This way, we can ensure the map will never lie and reveal the true identity of a person, even if they're disguised or transformed magically! I'll look for information in the Library to get us started."
"Sure." – the girl replied half-heartedly.
'I need to find a way to stop them from applying such a spell on the map! If it works, the first thing they'll see is my real name… How will I explain that?! Like I don't have enough problems…" – the girl thought wearily, as she and Peter slipped through the hole behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, while the still-invisible James went back to fetch Sirius.
Thursday after lunch, the Gryffindors were waiting outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, casually discussing what dark creature they might study that day. The fourth-years were set to continue their work from the previous year, now delving into more perilous topics. Since this was a basic course, the actual defensive spells were reserved for the N.E.W.T. levels. Despite that, excitement buzzed through the group, fuelled by wild speculations that Professor Thorne might present a real vampire.
"Honestly, I'm not that thrilled about meeting a vampire." – Catherine remarked, perched on a stone windowsill and biting into an apple - "I sit next to one during every Ancient Runes class."
Her comment prompted laughter from the boys, who glanced across the corridor at the Slytherins. Snape, visibly paler than usual, closed his book, his thin lips trembling with rage. His black eyes bore into Catherine with intense hatred.
"I'd sooner die of starvation than have a drop of your filthy blood!" – the boy hissed, his fellow housemates howling with approval.
"How dare you…" – Sirius began, drawing his wand and pointing it toward Snape.
"No!" – Catherine's voice had a metallic edge – "I don't need anyone's help."
With that, she swiftly jumped from the windowsill and closed the distance to Snape in a few strides, locking eyes with him fearlessly. The fact he was now almost a head taller than her annoyed the young witch a bit, but she didn't back off. The boy flinched slightly, a nervous tic appearing at the corner of his mouth, but he just frowned and stood still. He hated Catherine Plantier being so close to him. Normally adverse to physical closeness except with Lily, the black-haired girl's proximity unnerved him. Her jade-green eyes drove him insane with anger. The fantasy from last Christmas emerged in his mind and he stared at the one he blamed for his failed attempt to ease his pain.
Severus saw her hand move and immediately thought she was about to draw her wand out and hex him. Acting on instinct, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her forcefully. The wizard saw the shock on the Gryffindor's face, briefly noting that her hand felt a bit too fragile. Suddenly, the girl collapsed, falling forward onto Snape, who didn't expect such a turn of events and barely managed to catch her in time to prevent her from hitting the floor.
"Sirius, no!" – Lupin's voice rang out, as the Slytherin boy felt a sharp pain in his jaw.
Carter Thorne sighed with exasperation as he finished grading of the last one of his fifth-years' assignments. He was well aware that long and complicated tasks were necessary to fully prepare his students for the upcoming OWLs. However, this also meant he had to read through all of them. One thing the aristocrat had already noticed was that when the homework involved simple research tasks, the results were usually acceptable. Unfortunately, when he tried to make his students think critically and analyse certain events and situations, the outcomes were often horrendous.
Such was the current case with the essays he had assigned as a lighter exercise to help the fifth-years relax a bit – an assessment of recorded famous duels, coupled with suggestions of what could have been done differently by the defeated side. The DADA teacher was currently debating whether the worst work was Aelia Greengrass's, who suggested Morgana le Fay should have used her womanly charm during her famous duel with Merlin, or Leif Thornton's from Hufflepuff, who chose to write about an imaginary duel between Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin. Upon further investigation, Carsilion found that this mysterious event had only been described in a cheap novel apparently circulating among the older students due to its rather steamy love stories.
Of course, there were some decent works that showed good analytical skills and an understanding of the core principles of duelling. Regrettably, one such essay belonged to Greg McMahon, who had decided to dedicate his homework to the 'great duel between Marquess Carsilion Egbert and Louisa Plantier.'
'I can't believe that brat had spent so much time and effort just so he could mock me – like father, like son!' – the wizard thought, vowing that the cheeky heir of House McMahon would receive a proper payback sooner rather than later.
A quick glance at the clock on the mantel showed Carsilion he was late for his afternoon class. The Marquess quickly arranged the scattered parchments on his desk and headed towards the entrance of the DADA classroom, trying to remember if he had managed to grade all the fourth-years' homework.
The sudden commotion that erupted from the corridor prompted the Professor to hurriedly unlock the door, just in time to see Sirius Black punching Severus Snape in the face. Remus Lupin and James Potter rushed towards what appeared to be the unconscious Catherine, who the Slytherin was still holding awkwardly.
"What the hell are you doing?" – Carsilion's angry voice boomed over the students, who immediately started shouting in futile attempts to explain their version of the events.
"Silence!" – the teacher commanded, causing the noise to cease immediately – "Mr Black, I don't care whose fault that was! You can't fight like Muggles right under my nose! Twenty points from Gryffindor and a week of detention with me! Mr Snape, what have you done to Miss Plantier?
"I haven't done anything to her!" – the young wizard stated defensively – "We were having an argument and she just fainted."
"You did something to her, fucking bastard! Admit it!" – Sirius shouted beyond himself with rage, glancing at Catherine's pale face, resting against Remus' shoulder. He and James had finally managed to free their friend from Snape's grasp and Moony had volunteered to carry her to the Hospital Wing.
"Mr Black, can you not control yourself?" – Professor Thorne asked impatiently – "Ten more points from Gryffindor. Mr Lupin, did Mr Snape hurt Miss Plantier in any way?"
"I… I'm not sure." – Remus stuttered – "Everything happened very quickly, but I think it was just a coincidence and Catherine felt ill. May we take her to Madame Pomfrey, Professor?"
Carsilion carefully studied the girl's unconscious features, battling a strong desire to snatch the young witch from her friends and check if she was truly alright. Such a display, however, would raise many questions, especially because it concerned Catherine Plantier, whom everyone thought he had a grudge against. After a moment of contemplation, the wizard finally sighed and nodded.
"Apparently Miss Plantier needs some medical attention. Mr Potter, help Mr Lupin to take her to the Hospital Wing. You'll report to me afterward. Everyone else, get inside! The class has already started."
As the fourth-years slowly filed into the DADA classroom, Carsilion's gaze followed Potter and Lupin as they hurried down the corridor, Catherine still in Remus' arms. Quickly opening himself to his element, the wizard summoned the spirit of air, manipulating the sound waves to hear what the two Gryffindors were discussing.
"I knew this was a bad idea!" – James murmured angrily.
"She understood the risks very well." – Lupin answered – "It's important for Catherine, so it's our role to support her and help her get through this."
"I just don't see why she risks her health, so she could play with fire." – James groaned as they disappeared around the corner.
Carsilion shook his head in irritation. Dumbledore could have mentioned that they had started the girl's elemental training. This way, he could have anticipated such side effects. Sadly, relations between the Headmaster and the DADA teacher were a bit frosty after their argument at the end of the summer. Succumbing to his frustration, Carsilion forcefully spread his wings, made of air, releasing his pent-up anger. He wished he could go for a fly—it always helped him relax and clear his mind. The wizard sighed deeply and released his element, remembering he had a class to teach. Then he noticed that Snape was still standing in the corridor, staring at where his wings had been just a few seconds ago. The boy quickly snapped back to his senses and darted into the classroom without looking at his Professor, who in turn stared after the boy.
'Is it possible that Snape saw my wings? But they aren't visible to anyone but another Air Mage! If he did, he must have a very strong air inclination to be able to do so without any training.' - Carsilion thought, but then quickly reminded himself that this was not part of his job. He had more than enough on his plate with Catherine without searching for kids with a talent for Air magic.
The Halloween Ball was swiftly approaching. Everyone was busy preparing their outfits and tackling the tremendous task of finding a date to avoid being branded as social outcasts. The upcoming visit to Hogsmeade was also eagerly anticipated, especially for those needing last-minute purchases, particularly among the girls.
On Wednesday, after the joint Charms class, the fourth-years of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor walked together towards the Great Hall for lunch. Catherine had joined Alice, Marianne, and Tabitha, who were chatting joyfully about their weekend plans. The Gryffindor girl felt a bit better, surrounded by the girls' cheerful energy. The past few days had been truly awful. She could still feel the effects of her lesson with Dumbledore, despite following his orders and not training on her own.
The young witch blushed as she remembered waking up halfway to the Hospital Wing, dizzy and confused. The last thing she recalled was having a skirmish with Snape. She had been quite surprised when he grabbed her wrist as she attempted to throw away the half-eaten apple she was holding. From that moment, everything seemed blurry. Regaining consciousness, the girl realised someone was carrying her. She sensed an overwhelming scent of a forest and musk that instantly made her relax, feeling safe and protected to the point she didn't want to open her eyes. Eventually, she did, only to find Remus easily carrying her, accompanied by James, who immediately started asking questions and reassuring her that they would see Madame Pomfrey in a few minutes.
The Matron hadn't been able to find anything wrong with Catherine, so she let her leave after a few hours, delivering a detailed lecture about nutrition and the dangers of dieting as a teenager. Since then, the boys refused to leave her side, even for a minute. Sirius had been especially persistent, despite all his appointments in the form of three different detentions he was serving. Even at that very moment, Catherine was acutely aware of his eyes fixed on her back as she walked with the Hufflepuffs.
"Have you decided on your outfit, dear?" – Marianne asked, snapping Catherine out of her thoughts.
"Yeah, I ordered a really nice black dress in a Gothic style. I'm picking it up on Saturday." – the Gryffindor replied.
"Very thematic!" – Alice giggled – "I can do your makeup if you like! I really want to try something more dramatic for a change!"
"Ahm, I think I'm going to give it a try myself." – Catherine declined politely. While Alice was always enthusiastic, she had a tendency to go over the top, and Catherine didn't want to take the risk when it came to her face.
"You're no fun!" – the Hufflepuff pouted as they reached the Entrance Hall. Clusters of students lingered there, either waiting for friends or catching up before lunch. Greg McMahon stood at the centre of a noisy gathering of fifth-years. At the sight of the approaching fourth-years, Thaddeus Hart, a platinum blond Gryffindor with a face so pretty his friends joked he could dethrone Lily Evans as the Beauty Queen of the House, swiftly left his friends and headed toward Catherine and the girls.
"Hey, Alice!" – he greeted while his friends were chuckling and elbowing each other – "I was wondering whether you'd like to come to the Halloween Ball with me?"
The Hufflepuff girl blushed but smiled charmingly, the dimples in her cheeks becoming quite visible. "I'd like that very much, Thaddeus! Thanks for asking me!"
"You're…welcome!" – the boy exclaimed, appearing truly relieved – "I'll see you soon then!"
"Told ya!" – Marianne giggled as the Gryffindor rejoined his friends – "He's been fancying you for quite a while!"
"How do you notice these things?" – Catherine asked, laughing but actually genuinely curious.
"I don't know, it's kind of obvious when a boy likes a girl. Not sure how to explain it." – Marianne replied with an air of importance.
"Don't worry, Mudblood, no boy at school likes a flat, pug-ugly trollop who puts out for all her so-called friends, so they'll tolerate her and act as her bodyguards." – Valeria Malfoy's arrogant voice interrupted their conversation.
"Is it you who keeps spreading those ridiculous rumours?" – Catherine asked, unimpressed – "I didn't suspect you were so obsessed with me. Must be a family trait."
"How dare you, dirty…" – the Slytherin choked, her blue eyes blazing with fury – "Don't you dare mention my brother with that filthy mouth of yours! Do you seriously consider yourself worthy of even a fraction of his attention! Look at yourself and then look at Cissy! It's like you're from different species!"
"I know right?!"- the black-haired girl laughed – "And yet all of you harpies feel so threatened by a mere human like me!"
"What's going on here?" – Sirius intervened as the rest of the Gryffindors joining the group, attracting everyone's attention, as they anticipated another fight between the two Houses to break out at any moment.
"Nothing that concerns you, blood traitor!" – Valeria hissed, turning back to Catherine – "Listen, Mudblood, you may keep living in your fantasy world, but the sad reality is that nobody will ever ask you on a date and you'll end up alone at the Halloween Ball! Even if my brother was still at school, he would choose Narcissa or any other pure-blood witch before even glancing your way!"
"Sure." – the other witch smirked – "I just don't know why you think I care if I have a date for the Ball or not. I understand that for people like you, who are destained to become broodmares immediately after leaving Hogwarts, this is important. But for the rest of us, it's just another party to attend."
Valeria's face went from pale to flushed with red spots appearing on her ivory cheeks. She was ready to draw her wand and curse that stupid Gryffindor bitch until she begged for mercy. However, her intentions were thwarted as Catherine's expression suddenly shifted. The fourth-year's skin took on a slight shade of green, and she looked as if she was about to throw up. Panicked, Catherine turned and darted towards the nearest bathroom, ignoring the shouts of her housemates.
Valeria tossed back her platinum blond hair, laughing mockingly after the other girl. "Why are you running, Mudblood? Vomiting on yourself won't chase away the crowd of admirers you have running after you!"
Catherine ignored Valeria's taunts. She managed to reach the girls' bathroom on the first floor just in time before collapsing in front of one of the porcelain bowls. After a few minutes, the witch left the cubicle and washed her face with ice-cold water.
'I look positively dreadful.' – she determined after seeing her face in the mirror.
"Daisy?" – Lily called, entering the bathroom with a worried expression – "Are you sick?"
"I think I caught a nasty virus this week, Lils." – Catherine replied with a weak smile – "I'm going to be fine after I eat something."
"You really scared us." – the red-headed girl said, stopping next to her friend and giving her a quick reassuring hug – "You didn't pay attention to what that stuck-up goose Valeria said, right?"
"Well, she's right about nobody inviting me for the Ball and probably that I'm not the prettiest, but I really have other things to worry about than some school-life nonsense." – the black-haired girl shrugged, turning away from the mirror.
"You're right that it's not that important, but you're beautiful, and I know there are plenty of boys who would love to go to the Ball with you!" – Lily insisted with the most sincere expression.
"You're a good friend, you know?" – Catherine smiled gently – "But really, I'm perfectly fine with the way things are. Plus, I'll thoroughly enjoy seeing you look so much more beautiful than Valeria at the party!"
"Well, that's not much of a challenge now, after Marianne and Alice hexed her with horns and boils the size of hazelnuts right after you left!" – Lily said with a huge grin as the two Gryffindors headed towards the Great Hall.