Chapter 88: Flame of Fury (1)
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.