It had been three years since a girl with long, errant waves of black hair and curious green eyes had stood before the door of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Kathryn had been ushered into the kitchen where a wealth of people had been gathered. In the middle sat a boy with eyes exactly the same as her own. She had stood silent before her twin, watching as his eyes widened with shock, his mouth open agape. Unsurprisingly, he hadn't taken it well. The kitchen had been filled with angry voices for quite some time until Dumbledore had arrived to explain.
Though Harry had grudgingly accepted the reasoning behind Dumbledore's actions, he still resented that fact that her entire existence had been hidden from him. His sister, on the other hand, had enjoyed knowledge of her brother whilst she had been hidden in France.
She too bore the scar shaped like a lightning bolt upon her forehead, having been with Harry when Voldemort tried to kill them both. This mark was both a blessing and a curse. Marking them as his equals; giving them powers that had allowed them to escape him thus far, but also making them part of the terrible prophecy. They could not live while the other survived. In the end they or Voldemort would have to kill each other.
Her childhood, however, had been much nicer than Harry's and she was quite guilty for it. She'd had loving adoptive parents and plenty of friends back in France whilst Harry had endured a miserable existence in the cupboard under the stairs at the Dursleys'. Being his twin, she shared many of Harry's characteristics, including their mother's green eyes, hers seated behind angular black frames, and their father's messy hair. It was always slightly tousled, like Harry's; only it fell in long, jet-black waves down her back and sporadically changed from being relaxed and wavy one day to poker straight the next.
The summer had been a difficult one, with both siblings getting to know one another in the midst of Harry's trouble with the Ministry and the furore that surrounded her first sighting in Diagon Alley. As they returned to school, she had to suffer the same gawping stares that Harry had endured in his first year. Life did eventually settle down though as she joined the Quidditch team and through herself into the fight against Umbridge. Perhaps what astounded, and pleased, them most were her actions at the Ministry. Although she had barely known Sirius a year, she flung herself into the path of Bellatrix Lestrange's curse. Saving his life, whilst also nearly losing her own, told them all they needed to know about her character. This act also proved to be essential in the clearing of Sirius' name, for which she personally pressed the Minister.
She had also proved useful in Harry's continuous struggle against the Dursleys', turning up at number four Privet Drive just days after Harry had returned from Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia shrieked when she opened the door to a figure clad all in black despite the summer heat. At first she slammed the door in her face, obviously thinking that she was some dark witch come to get them. The second time she knocked, it was Harry who opened the door, his insides flooding with relief upon seeing his sister. The rest of that afternoon was rather painful; Uncle Vernon was livid at the idea that another Potter existed and that he would have to put up with her under his roof. He also seemed rather threatened by her presence; not surprising as she kept her wand in plain view. She had twirled it round in her fingers as she sat perched brazenly on the kitchen countertop, calmly listening to Uncle Vernon's ranting. Aunt Petunia was similarly astounded; apparently her sister had never shared the fact that she'd had twins.
It was these memories that filled her mind as she stared out at the great manor house from behind the iron bars of the fence. She was a week and a half away from starting her eighth year at Hogwarts and could not really remember why she had decided to try something so foolish. The academic process had changed somewhat since she had first arrived; students now staying for nine years as Dumbledore had judged that they needed a greater level of skill now that Voldemort had returned. It also allowed more students to be placed under the protective wing of Hogwarts. Those skills, especially those that were designed to protect her from the Dark Arts, might have to be put into use for her task tonight. Except, it wasn't really a task as such, at least not one condoned by the Order. She had told them she was going to visit friends in France for a few days.
However, instead of being in France, she was now standing behind the fence that separated the Malfoy's land from the rest of Wiltshire. She had been there since mid-afternoon, waiting for it to get dark and just watching the house and it's occupants. Draco and his mother Narcissa had left at around four o'clock, and they had not returned since. Only Lucius Malfoy was left in the house now, although that probably made it even more dangerous.
It was an imposing house, designed to intimidate visitors and all those they considered beneath them. She supposed that it worked in most instances. To own the truth, she could not help but feel impressed by the sheer scale of the building, and could not help but think that she would have a hard time passing on an opportunity to live somewhere so spectacular. It was just a shame that it's current occupants were so vile.
Wishing to use as little magic as possible she found a foothold in the weathered stone of the wall and pulled herself gingerly over the sharp iron bars that rose from it. It was a surprisingly easy feat, the Malfoys' obviously not expecting intruders who didn't use magic.
Though they were similar in looks, she wasn't as lanky as Harry and whilst in France, as well as playing Quidditch, she had gotten into some Muggle sports and had spent her summers pursuing these with her friends. They had found the absence of magic to be quite refreshing after a year of hard study. As well as this, the fact that she hadn't been half-starved by her foster parents meant that she had benefited from a lean, toned physique which had eventually become useful in her many escapades with her brother.
Once over the razor sharp points of the fence she jumped and landed on the soft earth below, quickly moving herself into the shadow of the nearby trees. She had been careful getting there and was not taking any more chances. She was clothed entirely in black; figure hugging jeans and shirt, black boots and black coat. All she needed was a black balaclava and she would blend completely with the night.
It took her another half an hour before she was actually right up against the walls of the manor; stealing her way there under the cover of trees and the helpfully landscaped gardens. Although it was nearly one in the morning, lights still flickered in several of the downstairs rooms and one on the first floor. She crept along, keeping her body flattened against the wall, her ears constantly alert for the smallest noise. The first window she came to was merely a vast, opulent ballroom and the next was the Entrance Hall. The final room on the ground floor that was still lit up was the drawing room, again empty of life. The only room left was at the back of the house on the first floor. Standing beneath the window in question, she took a deep breath to steady herself before reaching her hands up the wall to find some kind of grip. She progressed slower than she normally would have, wishing to keep as quiet as possible, and having to stop every so often as the moon slipped behind clouds. She was not about to let herself fall just because she was foolish and pressed on in darkness.
She was rewarded for her patience as it was in this room that she found any sign of life; peering through the window to find Lucius Malfoy reading in an armchair. She quickly scanned the room, which had walls filled with books, and gathered that it was a library or a study. At that moment, just as she felt a surge of triumph, she lost her footing as the edge of one of her footholds crumbled and fell to the ground. She scrabbled frantically with her foot, searching for another foothold whilst she desperately willed her arms to hold her safely. In her panic she had not noticed the noise she was making and, at the precise moment she poked her head back round the window frame, Mr Malfoy flicked his gaze to the window. She saw enough to see his eyes widen in anger before pulling her face back. There was the sound of hurried footsteps and she looked back to see the room empty.
Terror coursing through her veins, she made her way down the wall as quickly as she could, not stopping when the moon disappeared behind clouds. Jumping the final few feet to the ground, she landed with a thump and started to make a break for the fence, which was a good mile away at least. She didn't get far however, rounding the corner at the front of the house and skidding to a halt as she found herself facing a wand that was pointing straight at her throat. She could see a satisfied smile playing across his face in the moonlight.
"Well, well. Look what we have here." He said in a malicious tone, snatching her wand from her hands before she could even move to retaliate. "And I thought your brother would be the one to do this."
"Who says he won't?" She drawled sardonically, glaring defiantly back at him. "I just did it first."
"Enough," he snapped, "inside." He walked her inside the house at wand-point, admittedly not how she's planned on getting in that night. The Entrance Hall was grand and tastefully furnished but, instead of going further inside, she was quickly pushed through a hidden door beneath the stairs that took them down a flight of stone steps and into what she supposed to be the cellars. They actually reminded her of the dungeons in Hogwarts, lit by solitary torches in wrought iron brackets on the walls.
"If you mean to scare me," her voice sounded small in the dim corridor but she did her best to sound unafraid, "I suggest you try harder." He did not reply, instead pointing her into a smaller room, locking the heavy oak door behind them with a dull clunk. He lit the torches in the empty room with a flick of his wand before turning to face her.
"The coat, give it to me." His voice was cool and calm as he held out his free hand. She did as he asked as his wand was still pointing at her. He quickly rifled through the pockets and pulled out a knife, given to her by Sirius, and a compass. His face was an odd expression of disgust and curiosity; as if he couldn't stomach the thought of her stooping to Muggle methods, yet was impressed at her resourcefulness.
"How crude." He commented with a smirk, half laughing in the dim light.
"It doesn't hurt to have a back-up plan." She shot back.
"And still you have failed, isn't that interesting?" He cast them aside along with her coat and stepped towards her. Kathryn closed her eyes and prayed that he wasn't going to do what she thought he was. She was dismayed as she felt his hands sweep down her sides, searching for anything else she might have hidden. His hands stopped at her waist and he stepped back again.
"Your shirt too." He demanded curtly, holding out his hand once more.
"No." She refused defiantly, panic coursing through her veins.
"Either you give it to me," he paused menacingly, "or I will get it myself." He finished in a dangerous tone, raising his wand slightly. She stood frozen for a moment, trying to decide if fighting was worth the risk, before sighing and unbuttoning her shirt. At this point she deeply regretted her choice of underwear.
She had long dispensed with the plain underwear of her youth and moved on to more sophisticated things. Not expecting to be caught she had chosen a fitted camisole made from black silk, just because it had been the first thing her hands had reached in her drawer. It had also given her another layer of protection from the night chill. She could feel his gaze travel across her as she removed her shirt, his mouth curving for the briefest of moments into a satisfied smirk. She was under no illusions as to the reason for his smile, she knew how she looked.
Returning his attention to the task in hand, he quickly split open the hems using a severing charm and produced the neatly folded plans of his house and the county that she had hidden away between the thick cotton of the shirt. They had been security measures just in case she had been captured or had ended up lost.
"How very ingenious," he smirked, inspecting what he had found, "what a shame you shall have no need for them."
He smiled cruelly and fed the tip of the parchment into one of the torches before dropping it to the floor where she watched it curl into ashes. With another lazy flick of his wand; her hands were lifted up and fastened in chains suspended from the ceiling, which he had conjured from thin air. With one last disdainful look back at her he left, locking the door firmly behind him, and Kathryn was alone in the silence to ponder her fate. She tried in vain to disapparate but found that she could not, the room probably sealed with an anti-disapparation jinx. With no one to know where she was, she could not risk splinching herself in attempt to break it.
He returned what must have been only an hour later, although she had little idea of the time, her arms felt like she had been standing there for hours. She kept her face impassive and did not speak when he talked to her; staring over his shoulder at the harsh stone wall.
"I now find myself in quite the dilemma as to what to do with you." He said with a feigned note of concern in his voice. "I mean, I know you have information I want and, true, some of my colleagues would be perfectly happy to," he paused forebodingly, "extract it from you. It would be painful to watch but I'd do my best." He sneered, watching her face intently for any sign of panic. Her heart was thudding wildly in her chest and she hoped to anything that it wasn't showing on her face.
"And of course, you quite unwittingly forget my area of expertise." She felt the cold brush of steel against her exposed midriff and looked down to see the shining blade of a dagger pressing against her stomach. She hardly dared breathe as he walked slowly around her; the dagger tracing his route, gleaming steel against the delicate fabric. She watched, horrified, as the silk cut in places when he changed the angle of the blade. She barely dared breathe, much less move, for fear that the razor sharp steel would find her flesh.
"And the beauty of it is; there is no one to hear your screams." He smirked in glee before vanishing the blade with a lazy flick of his wand. She did not reply, instead she fixed him with a look of contempt. Her insides, however, had gone cold at the way he flippantly spoke of her impending torture. Up until now she had only met him properly once and knew him by reputation only; not that that did anything to put her at ease. Lucius Malfoy was most well known, in the circles of people committed to Voldemort's defeat, for the pleasure he derived from torturing Muggles. None had ever survived and many of the bodies had never been found. Those that had were virtually unrecognisable from the hours they had spent at his mercy.
"Of course, I could just hand you over to my master." He continued in the same thoughtful tone, obviously taking pleasure in keeping her in suspense like this. "A sibling can be such a fine bargaining chip." She shuddered at this thought, knowing that Voldemort would sooner kill her than use her as a bargaining tool.
"But, then again, why would I give away something so fine that has just walked into my grasp. Besides, I know many subtler forms of torture."
He was standing behind her now and he moved closer, placing his hands on her waist. His touch burned through the thin fabric of her camisole as he ran his hands appreciatively over her frame. She shuddered as he moved even closer, pulling her body flush against his. She could feel the whisper of his breath on her left shoulder and instinctively twisted her head away, but he had anticipated her move and, before she could move away again, his mouth had locked upon hers. She pulled away, fighting against his firm grip with all the strength she had. She only now noticed that he was far from his usual smart self. His jacket was missing and his shirt loose with the sleeves rolled up. They were both breathing fast and he had a look in his eye that told her that she would not be able to stop him whatever he did.
He waved his wand once and behind her she heard something land with a low thump on the floor, a crackling fire also sprang up in the previously empty grate. He then pointed his wand at the restraints that held her captive and they disappeared in a curl of smoke. She massaged her aching wrists as he advanced upon her once more, slowly this time, and with a predatory look on his face. The room shook slightly as he approached, betraying the terror she felt, as only extreme emotions of anger and fear could provoke such a strong magical reaction. She stood still as his arms encircled her waist and he softly kissed her neck and collarbone.
She felt sick to her stomach as he touched her, and even though she could potentially run, she found herself rooted to the spot. Apparently sensing her desire to run, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her roughly to him, keeping her back to his chest. She did her best to fight his hold as she felt a hand fumble with the waistband of her jeans. It was to no avail as she felt the cool air of the underground room against her legs. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes as his hands curled into the holes he had made in her camisole not long before. This was followed by the sharp sound of fine material tearing. She heard his sigh of pleasure as his hands caressed her bare flesh and she longingly wished for death, for at that moment it would have been far preferable for what she knew was about to come.
She shut her eyes, as if not seeing what he was doing would in any way make it less real. Her eyes still shut tight, she felt herself being pulled across the room before she was pushed unceremoniously down onto the mattress. When she next opened her eyes, he was lying on top of her and was looking, for the first time, straight into her green eyes.
"You're afraid." He said in an almost triumphant voice; seeing and understanding the fear in them. She was afraid. She'd had a couple of boyfriends at Beauxbatons and at one at Hogwarts; this had led many people to assume that she had slept with at least one of them. In truth, she had not, and had just been the victim of malicious teenage gossip. She had never imagined it happening like this.
"Well, I might as well make it good for you." He whispered in her ear. She could almost see the smirk gracing his face. She closed her eyes once more and tried to remove herself from what was happening, but that did not stop tears trickling down from the corner of her eyes as she felt him move inside her.
She tried her best to keep a straight face as he worked; keeping her eyes fixed on the hangings above her head, her hands twisting in the sheets as he forced himself harder and harder into her. She had thought she had experienced pain before, having found herself close to death on at least one occasion, but the agony she felt here was more than physical. It was as if he was stealing her very soul. She blinked back the tears, hoping that he would not notice her weakness.
He did.
A malicious glint came into his eyes as he spotted the tears as they pricked at the corner of her eyes. Twisting his hand into her long hair so roughly that she winced, he brought his face close to hers and whispered in her ear.
"Go on, cry for me." He smirked cruelly as she did as he told her to; small rivers trickling down her cheeks.
He left not soon after; apparently satisfied, for the moment. He stood and dressed as she lay facing the wall on the other side of the room; trying her hardest to keep her eyes in focus, trying not to lose control. She watched him from the corner of her eye as he brushed the crinkles out of his jacket; acting as if he had done no more than read the paper.
He regarded the bloody sheets, vacant expression and slightly trembling body of the girl lying before him with a mixture of satisfaction and contempt. He was quite contented with the damage he had inflicted and, unbeknownst to her, was already contemplating what else he could do to.
Once he had gone, Kathryn curled herself up in the sheets and sobbed until she could cry no more. All she could think of was the feeling of him inside her; the way he had roughly used her for his own pleasure and the way his mouth had curled into a blood-chilling sneer as she had screamed in pain. She felt as if she had been split in two and nothing would stop the dull ache. Sleeping was the only escape, but even then she was never free of the excruciating memories. She tried moving but it was too painful and, when she caught sight of the blood stained sheets beneath her she nearly vomited.
In the empty silence of the small room she could hear nothing of what was going on upstairs. It appeared that neither Narcissa, nor her son, were to return for a while as she did not think he would be able to get away with this were they in the house. Food appeared on a small table twice a day, not unlike the way it did at Hogwarts. There was a small bathroom that had a toilet and washbasin but no shower so she could not properly scrub herself clean.
She remained in this state for what she assumed to be several days, judging the time of day from the meal that arrived, except that she was not always alone. He returned every so often, using her as he wanted before leaving her alone again. She spent many hours lying awake, disgusted with herself and what was happening inside of her. She found that she was now, however unconsciously it happened, enjoying what he gave her despite the fact that she knew she shouldn't. He seemed to have awoken a basic instinct within her that couldn't help but be gratified by what he gave her. She cursed herself for wanting to help, for the foolish notion that she could have managed such a clandestine feat, for even thinking that she could do such things alone.
One night he roused her from her sleep and she found what remained of her original clothes and wand being returned to her along with a new shirt.
"What about my knife?" she shocked herself by even daring to speak.
"Does it matter?"
"It was a gift."
"Just get dressed." He snapped, slamming the door behind him.
She dressed and he returned five minutes later with an ordinary black cloak that, to her surprise, he placed on her shoulders. To her even greater surprise, he set the pocket-knife down on the little table. Stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans, she followed him out without a word and was lead to a waiting carriage that, as soon as the door was closed, sped off into the night. She positioned herself tight into the corner opposite where he sat, doing her best to avoid eye contact as he shot her all manner of lascivious looks throughout the silent journey.
Despite the overwhelming tiredness that was dragging at her mind, she did not dare close her eyes for fear of what he would do. Relief coursed through her as the bright lights of London appeared on the horizon and the familiar noises of the late night traffic reached her ears.
At first she wondered why the Muggles could not see them but then remembered that it was most likely that the coach was enchanted and many of the Muggles she saw were blind drunk. They came to a halt in the middle of Piccadilly Circus and she made to get out. Without a backward glance she walked over to the fountain of Eros and stood at the edge, gazing up at the blazing lights of the advertisements that flashed above her. She wasn't really looking at anything, just fixing on a point and gathering her thoughts. She realised that she was not alone when a form appeared behind her and placed its hands on her shoulders.
"See you when you're back at school." A voice murmured in her ear. She shuddered and became rigid at his touch, wishing he would just leave. He laughed quietly at her reaction before brushing her cheek with his lips and returning to his coach. With a blink of an eye he was gone and she was finally alone. She sat on the edge of the fountain and buried her head in her hands, what had she gotten herself into?
She understood that she was now totally alone. She couldn't run to Dumbledore, or Sirius, or Harry, or anyone. It would only lead to more trouble for her and her friends. Malfoy could now use her as something to negotiate with after all; as he had already made it very clear that he would hurt her friends, and then move onto her, if she revealed what had happened to anyone. She sat there in the cool of the early morning for several minutes before deciding to return home. By the clock on the screen above her it was four in the morning. It was a two-hour walk to Grimmauld place from the heart of the city if you walked slowly enough and took the long route. She liked the city at this hour. The pubs and clubs had all closed their doors and the streets were relatively quiet.
She walked slowly, watching as the sky slowly changed colour and the sounds of the city started once more as the Tube roared to life and lights flicked on in various bakeries and shops. In the midst of all this activity however, she did not feel alive. She wandered the streets feeling hollow and bruised and not looking forward at all to re-joining her friends. How much she would have to conceal from them. How much she would be tortured by the memories of what happened and the thoughts of what was still to come.
She reached the Grimmauld place at half past six, according to the distant chimes of Big Ben. She sat on the steps for a few moments to gather her thoughts and emotions; after all, she didn't know who was going to be inside. She opened the door as quietly as possible, taking care not to wake the portrait of Sirius' mother, which remained as ever, behind its green velvet curtain. She discarded her cloak and made straight for the kitchen where she busied herself making a cup of tea and some toast. Just as she was sitting down, the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs reached her ears and Sirius, brandishing his wand, burst into the room. Sirius was still edgy about unknown noises, but he lowered his wand and smiled when he saw Kathryn. He brushed his long black hair out of his face and sat down next to her.
"When did you get back?" he asked, waving his wand at the teapot, which poured him another cup.
"About five minutes ago." She replied, biting into her toast, hoping that he wouldn't get too inquisitive. "I got the Knight Bus." She lied, spraying crumbs over the tabletop.
"The Knight Bus, from France?" Sirius was puzzled as the Knight Bus only operated in England.
"From Portsmouth. I got a ferry back from Caen last night and then took the Knight Bus to London. We jumped around for a while, you know, I wasn't the first one on so we were jumping all around the country." She explained, hoping that the lie sounded plausible.
"You got the ferry to Portsmouth and then the Knight Bus to London?" he asked, confused. "Why didn't you just apparate?"
"I couldn't be bothered, besides, I like the long journey. It gives me time to think" She shrugged her shoulders. "And who among our enemies would think that I would use Muggle transport?"
"Good point. How did you get back here then?"
"I walked."
"You walked here, from central London!" He exclaimed in disbelief.
"Yeah. I walked back from Piccadilly Circus." She said, putting her mug in the sink.
"But that's a good two hours walk from here!" Sirius said with astonishment.
"I like the walk, and besides, I wasn't about to take any chances by arriving too close to our front door."
"You're mad." He said, finishing the rest of his tea.
"Yes, but that's why you like living with me." She stopped talking for a moment, staring down at her plate; it was almost impossible to bear lying to Sirius like this.
"What's wrong?" the blank look on her face worried him, as she was usually far more talkative when she just got back from one of her little trips. "Is there something you need to tell me?" Kathryn jolted out of her thoughts.
"What? Oh, no." She said smiling. "Just reminiscing about the fabulous French lifestyle that we severely lack in this country. You know; warm sunny days, late breakfasts; sitting in cafés all day even though you have things to do. All that sort of stuff." She lied again. "So, anything new here?" she quickly changed the subject.
"Not much actually, it's been rather quiet. Molly's frantic because term starts in two days so you're going to be asked every five minutes if you have everything you need. We're going to Diagon Alley today to get your new books and stuff." No sooner had Mrs Weasley's name been mentioned she appeared in the doorway.
"Kathryn dear, oh you're back." She rushed around the table and hugged her tightly. "Oh I'm so glad you're safe."
"Thanks Mrs Weasley." She said with as good a smile as she could muster as Molly detached herself from her shoulders and began to prepare breakfast.
"Well, the others will be down in a moment, they're all getting ready. You'd best change too dear, you're clothes will be horrible after travelling all night." With a small smile at Sirius she turned and headed up the stairs to her room.
At her request, Sirius had very kindly given her a large room on the top floor. In fact, it was more like the entire top floor. It had been converted into a large bedroom and bathroom with an area full of comfy chairs where the four of them could sit and not worry about being overheard. It was also because, unlike Harry, she had a great many more 'things', owing to the fact that she'd had kind foster parents back in France. The great stone fireplace, carved with the Black family crest, had a fire crackling merrily in the grate, giving the room a welcoming glow. Her elegant eagle owl, Athena, was asleep; head tucked under her wing, on top of her wardrobe. She was home.
She locked the door behind her and, in moments, she had collapsed onto her large four-poster bed and was muffling the sound of her sobs with a pillow. After a few minutes she composed herself and took a quick, steaming hot shower, wishing she could also wash away the memories of what had happened. Instead she let the hot water relax and soothe her. She heard distant noises from downstairs that sounded like more people arriving and she wondered if it was one of their teachers' or another member of the Order.
Once wrapped in a large, warm white towel she fed her trousers, shirt and underwear into the fire, never wanting to see them again. Digging in her wardrobe, she pulled on a pair of loose jeans, a fitted T-shirt and her black boots and ran down the stairs again once she had sorted her hair. She could smell bacon frying and could hear toast crisping under the grill. She relished these noises, standing for a moment in the hallway and just listening, after having been left in silence for so long.
Once she was sure she could face everyone, she forced a smile onto her face and stepped jauntily through the door. She was met by the scrapes of many chairs as Harry, Ron and Hermione all stood up at once to greet her.
"Leave her alone, you're breakfast's getting cold." Mrs Weasley chastised them from her position in front of the cooker.
"But Mum…" Ron complained through a mouthful of toast.
"But nothing, she's not going anywhere Ron, just eat your breakfast before it gets cold."
Once they had sat down again she could see who had arrived whilst she had been upstairs. Remus Lupin and Tonks were sat on the opposite side of the table, both were smiling at her and she took a seat between them and Sirius.
"So, how was France?" Lupin asked as Mrs Weasley placed a plate of toast, bacon and beans in front of her.
"Fine," she replied, heaping beans onto her toast, "very sunny."
"Where's your tan then, you look just the same as when you left?" Tonks said with a sly smile. "Been visiting a secret boyfriend have you." She giggled into her coffee.
"No, I haven't got a secret boyfriend, and I used sun lotion." She lied as she tucked into bacon, forcing id down despite the fact that her stomach was tying itself into unpleasant knots. She spent the rest of breakfast talking to Harry, Ron and Hermione about her little 'holiday' in France and she was glad when Mrs Weasley chivvied them out of the kitchen to go and fetch their cloaks, as she was sick of lying to them. She waited in the hallway as her cloak was already downstairs where she had left it an hour or two earlier.
"Oh, new cloak dear?" came Mrs Weasley's voice from behind her. Kathryn whirled round, trying to think of an excuse.
"This? Oh yeah. My coat blew of the washing line at my friends' house and landed in the sea. She lives right by the coast you see, on the edge of a cliff. I got it back but the salt had ruined it." She lied quickly.
"Oh, well that's a pity isn't it? It was such a nice coat." In truth Kathryn had no idea about what had happened to her coat. It had no doubt ended up in the fire at the Malfoy's house. Once they were all gathered in the hallway, Mrs Weasley with their school lists safely tucked away in her bag, they said a quick goodbye.
"Right, see you all at the Leaky Cauldron." Mrs Weasley said before disapparating. They all went one by one, Ginny too, as she had just passed her test. Just as Harry was about to go she remembered her bag and, with a quick shout to Harry, she dashed back upstairs to get it. Quickly checking she had her purse, she too disapparated and appeared a moment later in the bar of the Leaky Cauldron pub. She went out into the back yard, nodding a quick hello to Tom as she went, where Harry, Ron and Hermione were waiting for her at the entrance to Diagon Alley.
"Mum's gone to get our books and stuff; she's meeting us back here in three hours." Ron said as they all set off into the bustling street. Whilst they all disappeared into a shop to stock up on ink and parchment, Kathryn gave them some money to get her a few supplies, and she headed for a small black door on the opposite side of the street with a letter 'C' painted on it in silver. Whilst in France she had made some scrupulous investments, thanks to the tips given to her by her foster father; who spent a lot of his time trading on almost the equivalent of the Muggle stock market. She was now all the richer for it and was able to afford certain luxuries. The door she had just entered was, in fact, the entrance into the wizarding side of the well-known Muggle couturier Chanel.
There were several doors like this dotted down Diagon Alley, all of them leading into the privileged world of the wizarding worlds most famous designers. The assistants at Chanel knew her on sight and, ten minutes after entering; she emerged with several large black bags containing her new school uniform. Her name got her a large discount and she had found that the fabrics used offered considerably more comfort than those bought at Madam Malkin's.
They proceeded on to Quality Quidditch Supplies where she had an order waiting. Whilst Ron goggled at the Firebolt and Harry browsed through a shelf of broom accessories she paid for her order, which was carefully wrapped in tissue, cloth and finally packed into four thin rectangular boxes tied with red ribbon. Once finished, she added the smart red bags to the collection on her shoulder. The owner handled the order himself as she was considered a special customer, and bowed them out of the shop as they left.
They stopped at Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour for vanilla, chocolate chip and blackcurrant sundaes which, at the sight of Harry and Kathryn, were given to them on the house. They sat, basking in the sunlight, watching the crowds go by. Several times they saw their fellow school friends. Neville Longbottom went past with his rather stern-looking Grandmother. Their fellow Gryffindors Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan also stopped to say hello as they shopped for the return to school.
Their next stop was Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Fred and George's shop that they had partly funded with Harry's Triwizard winnings. It was doing a roaring trade as usual; full of Hogwarts students stocking up with everything they needed to wreak mayhem at school.
"And what might we offer these illustrious customers." Fred said in an oily voice as they walked over.
"What could we have that could interest Hogwarts Prefects?" George continued in the same manner.
"Break out the good stuff you two." Kathryn said, setting her bags down on a chair. "I want the things that you can only get if you ask." Smirking mischievously, the twins beckoned them through to the back of the shop where a large cabinet with several locks took up most of one wall.
"Take a peek." Fred said, gesturing to the inside of the cabinet. "These aren't supposed to hit the shelves 'till Christmas."
They looked in and saw a whole host of fireworks and everything else you could associate with a joke shop run by the best in the business.
"What's that?" she asked; pointing to a stack of large boxes on the bottom shelf.
"That," said George, "is the best collection of fireworks you will find in Britain."
"The Firecracker Supreme. Fifty Galleons per box." Fred finished.
"I'll take it. And some of the exploding sugar mice." She said without even examining them and pulled out her moneybag.
"No, no." Fred shook his head as she reached inside for her money.
"For you, it's free." George went on. "As it is for all of the esteemed founders of the DA, and our financial backers." He referred to the large sums of money both Harry and Kathryn had contributed to the founding of the shop.
She was once again furnished with another large bag, green this time, and they were waved from the shop once Ron and Harry had stocked up as well.
Her final stop was at another of the inconspicuous black doors, this one with 'D' painted in fine silver letters across the front. She spent half an hour in this shop, taking more time to peruse what was on offer in Dior. She did not intend to buy anything and was surprised when one of the assistants approached her. She was about to brush him off with 'I'm just looking' until she realised that he did not have the look of someone getting ready to try and persuade her to buy something.
"I have your garment just over here Miss Potter." He said, pointing to the cash desk.
"Excuse me?" Kathryn was exceedingly puzzled for she had not ordered anything in advance.
"It was ordered this morning, we were going to post it to you, but, as you are here, you might as well take it."
"I'm sorry, but I haven't ordered anything." She tried to explain.
"Yes, the order was received by owl this morning; it came with a note to put on the box." He led her over to the cash desk where he produced a large black box tied with silver ribbon. A card was tucked under the ribbon and she pulled it out to read its message.
'Do not open until Christmas.' Was written neatly across in black ink, there was no name.
Leaving the shop slightly confused she popped into Christian Louboutin, which was handily situated just next door, and bought a gorgeous pair of shoes. And finally, for the sake of it, she popped back into Chanel and purchased the same black coat that Mr Malfoy had never returned to her.
She met the three of them outside Gringotts Bank, Hermione clutching a new cat bed for Crookshanks, and they walked leisurely up the street; heading for the exit back into the yard behind the Leaky Cauldron. They waved to Fred and George as they passed the shop and they soon saw Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Ginny and Sirius standing underneath the gateway. Sirius did get some odd looks, as people still hadn't gotten used to the fact that he was innocent, having thought of him as a criminal for so long.
They all disapparated one by one, just as they had done when leaving Grimmauld Place. However, just before she disapparated, Kathryn caught sight of herself in a shop window. She looked at her reflection for a minute, it was laden down with bags full of some of the most expensive things Diagon Alley could offer, and yet she did not feel relaxed or happy. This thought nagged her even more when she returned home and, instead of enjoying lunch, she found herself lying face up on her bed; contemplating how much her life had changed.
The next thing she knew, Hermione, Ron and Harry were shaking her awake. She was curled up, fully dressed, underneath her cloak.
"What?" she said, jolting awake. "What time is it?"
"It's five o'clock; you've been asleep for nearly five hours." Hermione laughed.
"Why didn't you wake me up?" she asked, running her fingers through her hair, which was sticking out at odd angles.
"Mum told us not to wake you." Ron said gloomily. "Pity, I wanted to test the exploding mice but she won't let us. Says it'll wake up Sirius' mum." Kathryn got up and walked to the foot of her bed where she had left her bags. She began to empty the contents and arranged them neatly on her bed and then folded the bags flat and stowed them in her wardrobe. It was useful that they were all in boxes so they fitted neatly into her trunk, which was lying open beneath the windowsill. Whilst she was packing the boxes around her broom, Hermione inspected the mystery parcel from Dior.
"What's this?" she said curiously, turning over the card and reading it.
"Dunno." She shrugged. "They had it waiting for me when I got there. I've no idea who it's from." She lied, having a perfectly good idea about who had bought it for her.
"Who could even afford to send you something like this?" Harry questioned, looking at the logo embossed on the box. "Not anyone we know."
"Actually, I think we know a few that could." She shot back. "Sirius for example, but I doubt that he would do something like this, he has no reason to hide his identity."
"Open it and see." Ron said, absentmindedly flicking through the new books they had brought up.
"It says 'do not open until Christmas', Ron." She said, removing the box from Hermione's lap and stowing it carefully in her trunk. "And that's what I'm going to do." She closed her trunk and, immediately after, they heard the voice of Mrs Weasley calling them down for dinner.
The next morning they were all set to work packing their trunks so they were ready for the following day, Mrs Weasley obviously trying to pre-empt the usual morning panic. Kathryn spent most of the morning transferring everything from her wardrobe and chest-of-drawers into her magically expanded trunk. Then evening came and Mrs Weasley once again treated them to one of her fabulous dinners and, even though they were not in school anymore, Fred and George gave them a marvellous display of their own fireworks. The stars that bounced around the room had not faded by the time they all went to bed at midnight.
On the morning of the first of September they were all up at dawn, packing the final few things into their trunks and coaxing their animals back into their cages. They just caught a glimpse of Mr Weasley before he headed off to work, letting them know that Ministry cars were on their way later. Mrs Weasley fed them a breakfast of sausages, beans, bacon, toast and eggs which could have fed a small army. Before they knew it, Alastor Moody had arrived with Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Sturgis Podmore and Mundungus Fletcher; their escort to Kings Cross. Breakfast suddenly made sense when the new arrivals began to heartily tuck in.
What Kathryn found most amazing was that, not only were they on time, but they managed to do all of this without disturbing Mrs Black. The Ministry cars arrived on time and they were soon relaxed in the back of the two emerald green cars which had been magically enlarged to accommodate more than the average number of passengers.
They arrived at Kings Cross with plenty of time to spare thanks to the cars ability to squeeze through very small gaps and jump straight to the front of a queue of traffic. Moody met them on the platform with their trunks, having taken an alternate route, and they were all soon saying goodbye and promising to take care of themselves. Kathryn's insides turned to ice, however, when she saw Lucius Malfoy saying goodbye to his son not very far from them. She tried to remain calm but the way he looked at her made her want to curl up and hide back in her bedroom at Grimmauld Place. She did her best to clear her head on the long train journey, but by the look she had seen on his face, this year was by no means going to be an easy one.