Bab 118: Chapter 118: For the Heart of a Lioness (1)
The first week of school at Hogwarts was marked by persistent clouds and rain, casting a sombre mood over the castle. For the fourth-years, however, the dreary weather was a minor concern compared to the mountain of homework and extra assignments piling up.
Professor McGonagall quickly enlightened them on the reason behind this rush and overload of tasks. "You're entering a very important part of your education. Next year, you'll sit for your Ordinary Wizarding Level Exams, and I don't need to tell you how pivotal they are for your future career choices."
"There are two years before we need to take the OWLs! What's the point of ruining my life now?" – Sirius complained after Transfiguration as they headed for lunch.
"I somehow doubt this was designed with the precise intention to torture you." – Remus answered, not trying to cover his sarcasm – "Personally, I'm glad we can start preparing in advance and not overstress at the end."
"I agree with Moony." – Catherine chimed in, nodding.
"What a surprise!" – Sirius smirked – "For me, the most important thing this year is winning the bloody Quidditch Cup!
"I second that!" – James said determinedly – "Flame, do you want us to help you prepare for the try-outs?"
"Sure." – Catherine replied, though her voice lacked enthusiasm.
"Come on! It's gonna be fun!" – Sirius assured her – "With us training you, there's no way you can fail to become one of the new Gryffindor Chasers!"
Catherine raised an eyebrow. "If you don't knock me off my broom during practice! Last time we played Quidditch for fun, I ended up black and blue."
"I'll be very gentle, I promise!" – the wizard grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously.
"I have trouble believing it." – Catherine responded coolly – "Do you know who else is trying out for Chaser?"
"I've heard Frank Longbottom and Thaddeus Hart are also planning to try their luck this year, but I think there's going to be a solid group of candidates." – Peter informed them.
"It doesn't matter! Flame is a natural. She's going to get the spot." – James stated decisively.
"There are two free spots, though." – Peter continued – "So, it's good if Marvolo has more options. We need strong Chasers because you're going to be an entirely new trio."
"Flame and I are already an amazing team!" – Sirius grinned as they entered the Great Hall and took their seats around the long wooden table.
"Are we?" – Catherine asked, attempting to serve herself some pasta salad.
"Obviously!"- Sirius nodded, grabbing Catherine's plate and pilling up more food before returning it to the girl, who simply rolled her eyes and started eating slowly.
'I don't understand what got into them about my food. I eat just as I used to. I know I've lost some weight, but it's probably because of puberty. This is becoming annoying!' – she thought, chewing indifferently.
The next morning dawned much like the previous one. Catherine found herself wading through an impressive pile of toast with jam, thanks to Sirius's insistence on replenishing her breakfast. Meanwhile, the cacophony of fluttering wings and hoots announced the arrival of the morning mail, as owls of all shapes and sizes descended upon the Great Hall.
A barn owl landed gracefully amongst the breakfast leftovers, leaving a Daily Prophet on the table and stretching its leg towards Sirius, who slipped a few coins into the pouch attached to the bird's leg.
"Since when have you started reading the news?" – James asked, surprised.
"Thanks for making it sound like I'm a complete pillock! – Sirius retorted sarcastically, flipping open the newspaper – "One needs to know what happens in the world. Maybe one of these days the Ministry's going to catch my parents amongst those arse-lickers with the masks."
"Are things that bad?" – James inquired, his tone softening with concern.
"What are you talking about?" – Catherine interjected, confused.
James paused, then explained, his voice dripping with disgust. "Ah, yeah, you don't know, of course. But over the summer, there were multiple reports of Muggle and Muggle-born killings. This time, however, it wasn't covert. There were reports about groups of people, dressed in black, wearing masks, allegedly serving under that lunatic who preaches pure-blood supremacy."
"It seems that many members from pure-blood families already joined him or support him with money and in other ways. It's really just a matter of time before my family does it too." – Sirius responded grimly from behind the paper.
"But who's this person anyway?" – the young witch insisted.
"He calls himself Lord Voldemort, from what I've heard." – James said flatly.
"Don't say his name!" – Peter squeaked – "It gives me chills just hearing it!"
"Don't be such a knob, Peter!" – Sirius barked a laugh – "It's just a name! It becomes scary only if you're too afraid to say it."
"Wait a second." – Catherine interjected, a bit shocked – "What do you mean by Lord? Is he an aristocrat?"
"He's not, and we can't be held responsible for people who just decide to adopt noble titles on their own accord." – Greg McMahon's voice startled them all – "Furthermore, I would like to ask you to not discuss such sensitive matters in public places. We don't want to cause any additional panic in the school."
"Now we can't talk?!" – James erupted, leaping to his feet – "I won't even bother asking what's wrong with you because that's obviously a laundry list, but what the fuck, McMahon?!"
"Mind your language, Potter, or I'll give you a detention." – the blond wizard cautioned calmly.
"Leave James alone!" – Catherine interjected fiercely, her jade-green eyes locking onto her brother's – "Next thing, you'll be using Legilimency to invade our thoughts! Some of us value our independence, even if you, my Lord, can't function without mommy and daddy telling you what you should be doing!"
"Exactly!" – James declared defiantly, receiving a nod of agreement from Sirius.
"Well, then perhaps you can thank my mommy and daddy for the detention I'm going to give you, Miss Plantier." – Greg replied with a sly smile, relishing Catherine's shocked reaction – "Potter will keep you company. Both of you report to Filch Friday evening at 8. Have a lovely day!"
"You bloody wanker!" – James screamed after him.
Greg paused, turned back, and flashed James a grin, a distinct glint in his blue eyes. "Am I? You should ask Lily, if she ever talks to you for any reason other than telling you to piss off."
"You can certainly see the Slytherin in him." – Sirius remarked, as Remus and Peter intervened to stop James from drawing his wand and casting a hex on the aristocrat.
James seethed with fury all day. Catherine found herself rushing to her afternoon Ancient Runes class, arriving late due to spending the entire lunch break persuading her friend not to knock Greg off his broom during Quidditch practice. Sprinting towards the sixth floor, the girl almost bumped into Mary MacDonald, who was engaged in a very intimate conversation with Ronan Nightshade, a sixth year from Ravenclaw. Mentally noting this intriguing sight for later teasing, the young witch stormed into the small classroom where Professor Oakenscript had just begun her lecture on Lumirith, the language of ancient sunlight, slated for study that year.
"Have a seat, Miss Plantier, and try to be a bit more punctual next time. We have a lot to cover this term." – the Professor reprimanded her softly before continuing to explain the grammar structure of the respective rituals.
Catherine looked around and realised she was once again destained to share a desk with Snape. She sighed resignedly and took the only available spot. Despite missing the first ten minutes, the girl tried to concentrate on the teacher's words. Soon, they delved deep into the theory of the language, and the Gryffindor busied herself with attempting to pronounce the words' hard, clear sounds.
"Luxen tharnath ven dor vakorrr."[1] – Catherine spoke under her breath as they were tasked with composing a simple sentence and pronouncing it correctly.
"How boring." – Snape scoffed – "Also incorrect."
"I don't remember asking you for feedback." – the girl hissed, annoyed – "And it is correct."
"Not quite the pronunciation." – the Slytherin remarked with an arrogant smirk – "Vakorrr demands a sharper 'r' sound, making it vakor."
"Is it a conscious effort to be a know-it-all, or does it just come naturally to you?" – Catherine retorted, her frustration evident.
"I'd like to think it's a gift for teaching, combined with an aversion to ignorance." – Snape replied with a sly smile.
"You're calling me ignorant?" – the girl hissed, weighing the consequences of hexing him during class. Fortunately, at that moment, Professor Oakenscript dismissed them with a hefty amount of translations and readings due for the next week.
Catherine hastily gathered her belongings and stood up, her eyes still ablaze with anger. Snape calmly began packing his books and parchment into his old schoolbag. The girl couldn't help but notice he was now visibly taller than her, which only aggravated her further. His words from their last visit to Hogsmeade lingered in her mind, and she was surprised to find herself more offended by the possibility that he had chosen not to protect himself against her than by the hex that had left her without hair for several months. With an exasperated growl, she turned away, taking a few steps toward the door, when Snape's raspy voice stopped her.
"Luxen dor vakor thar eradon dor ethel, venith tharnath dor yath ther dor eldir."
Catherine stared at the young wizard's back as he was leaving the classroom, pondering his cryptic words.
'Light and darkness are one and whole, though they seem to dwell in different forms.' – she mused, her hand running though her short hair, reminiscing about her lost braid during moments of deep thought – 'Why does this sound so familiar? This guy is unbelievable! What a joy that I have to spend yet another year sharing a desk with him!'
[1] The Light protects us from the darkness.
Status Power Mingguan
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