Chapter 111: Loyalty (2)

Catherine burst into her bedroom, stumbling over her new broom she hadn't found a place for yet, and fell face-first onto the ground. She lay there motionless, her face sinking into the soft yellow carpet. Despite the agony tearing her soul apart, her eyes remained dry. Betty's death weighed heavily on her conscience; it was her selfishness that led to it. She couldn't shake the memory of the deaths she had witnessed in her dreams—deaths she had caused and thoroughly enjoyed.

'Why did I think I could stop all this? Why did I believe it would be different this time? I'm going to end up the same way as Erin! Will Greg be the one to plunge that knife into my heart?' – Catherine thought desperately. Cold, distant female laughter, full of hatred, was ringing in her ears – louder and louder. The girl's senses were assailed by the scent of smoke and the ominous crackling sound. Upon lifting her head, the young witch realised the carpet was burning. The crimson flames were spreading rapidly, turning the fabric into ashes within seconds.

"Catherine!" – Greg gasped as he opened the door of his sister's room. His eyes glowed blue as he extended his hands, a stream of water splashing over the young witch and the burning carpet.

"What the fuck are you doing?" – the wizard coughed, opening the window to let the smoke out. When he received no reply, he grabbed Catherine's hand and dragged her out of her chamber. He didn't release her until they reached his bedroom. There, Greg quickly rummaged through his wardrobe and threw a t-shirt and a pair of shorts to his sister.

"Are you going to change out of these wet clothes or shall I do it for you?" – he asked, smirking when Catherine reluctantly took the clothes. The boy turned around and stared out the window, giving her some privacy while changing.

"It seems you're making good progress with your Water Magic." – the girl finally spoke, settling onto her brother's bed. His clothes were a bit too big for her, but still comfortable, bearing traces of the boy's magic. The witch realised it had been years since she last set foot in Greg's bedroom, noticing the significant changes. Gone were the toys and comics that once filled the space. In their place, numerous books lay scattered across every surface, while several paintings adorned the dark blue walls. One unfinished landscape, depicting a lonesome beach at sunset, rested on a tripod.

"I'm managing." – the wizard replied humbly – "It was challenging at first, but it improved over several months. Have you started your training? Was that fire because you were practicing?"

"I haven't started yet. I don't know how that happened, just please don't tell Mum and Dad! They're gonna freak out." – Catherine pleaded.

"I won't tell them, but this is dangerous. What if I hadn't arrived in time?" – Greg asked with genuine concern.

"Dumbledore will begin teaching me as soon as the school year starts." – the young witch assured her brother – "I just lost control for a minute."

"Because of Betty's death?" – the boy inquired – "You were very upset at the funeral. Did something else happen?"

"Isn't her death enough of a reason to be upset?" – snapped Catherine.

"It's undoubtedly sad, especially since you were so close with her. However, it seemed like you had some sort of breakdown after Dad's speech." – Greg observed, studying his sister's face with a questioning gaze.

The girl paused for a second, uncertain of how much she could share with her brother. Glancing in his direction, she was taken aback by how tall and handsome he had become. His broad shoulders and long legs gave him the appearance of a grown man. Yet, despite his physical transformation, his gaze remained unchanged. He was still her big brother, regardless of how hard she had tried to push him away.

"Betty died because of me." – mumbled the witch, her eyes fixed on the floor.

"What do you mean?" – Greg asked softly.

"Yesterday, she used healing magic on an injury I had." – the girl admitted, absentmindedly taking a book from the nearby nightstand and browsing through its old yellow pages – "I didn't know using this power had such an effect on house-elves."

"Flame, regardless of whether you knew it or not, Betty was aware of the consequences. She chose freely, and you bear no responsibility for her decisions." – the wizard spoke gently, fighting the urge to hug the trembling girl, who sat awkwardly on his bed.

"But at the end of the day, she did it because of me." – Catherine whispered, tears finally rolling down her cheeks.

"No, she did it because she loved you." – Greg said, kneeling in front of his sister, grasping her hands, and planting a tender kiss on her fingers. 

They stayed like that for several minutes, the young witch finally clearing her throat and hesitantly freed her hands from her brother's hold. To hide her embarrassment, she again picked up the book that was lying open on her knees. The title of the chapter she had randomly opened to caught her eye: The Life and Noble Acts of Robert McMahon.

"May I borrow this book?" – she asked promptly.

"It's from Dad's library, I am not sure he would allow you to read it. It's part of my training as the heir of the House." – the wizard responded contemplatively.

"Are you afraid I'd try to steal your role as the next Head of the House?" – smirked Catherine sarcastically.

"No, actually I would have gladly surrendered it to you." – Greg shrugged – "Believe it or not, being the future Duke McMahon is not my dream job."

"And what is?" – the girl inquired, genuinely curious. It was the first time her brother had expressed his unhappiness with the position he held in their family.

"Why should I answer your question?" – the wizard smiled mysteriously.

"Merlin, you're the same as the Grey Lady!" – snapped the witch – "I just wanted to be polite."

"Well, an apple doesn't fall far from the tree." – Greg shrugged, taking a seat next to Catherine on the bed.

"Pardon?" – she exclaimed, astonished.

"Don't you know who the Grey Lady is?" – the boy raised his eyebrows in surprise – "This is Hellena Ravenclaw!"

"What?!" – Catherine gasped in awe – "She is the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw?! But of course! Then, it makes sense why she would know all the secret spots in the castle!"

"I don't know about that, but yes, she's the daughter of Ravenclaw and Godric Gryffindor. Although I believe the relationship with her father was probably not good. It has never been mentioned even in our records, only the fact she was his child." – explained the wizard.

"Thank you for everything, Greg!" – Catherine said suddenly, standing up – "I'll go get rid of the carpet."

"Are you sure you're alright?" – asked the boy, still concerned.

"I am." – she assured him – "Plus, we'll be in Hogwarts soon. This will help a lot."

"You can take the book." – the wizard said, handing her the thick volume.

"Thanks!" – the girl nodded, taking the tome, browsing through the pages once more. An envelope fell from between them – "Oh, you left your letter from school inside!"

"Ah, thanks, I'll take it right away!" – Greg jumped a bit too enthusiastically, prompting Catherine to take a closer look, noticing something shiny and metallic – "You've been chosen as a Prefect!"

"Yes." – admitted the boy hesitantly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" – she asked, a bit disappointed.

"Well, I received it while we were away and… I thought you were going to mock me." – the boy admitted blushing a bit.

"I won't!" – Catherine assured him, then added with a smirk – "But I can't promise anything about Sirius and James!"

***

That evening Catherine went to bed early and decided to have a look at the book Greg lent her. It turned out to be a collection of stories about famous members of her family written in the 19th century. After half an hour, the young witch set her reading aside. It did clarify some things, but it lacked a lot of information. For example, the book never mentioned anything about Erin or the fate of his brothers and parents. It only cited that he inherited the title of Duke very early, at the age of 19, and that he survived the Battle of Bannockburn, where the seven Houses lost many members and supporters.

'So, he was the one who signed the Pact after the Last Noble War, which means Erin was the last McMahon girl who was not killed right after she was born, the last one before me.' – Catherine thought, playing with her short hair – 'She was 12 when she lost control. If my father is correct and the risk of the demon breaching the seal drops after I turn 16 and my magic stabilises, I really need to hold myself together a bit longer. After all, I'm going to turn 14 this autumn. But again, I have to make sure I master true fire. I believe Dumbledore that it might prove to be my strongest defence. It couldn't be a coincidence that the laughter stopped once the carpet caught fire!'

With that, the girl nestled into her bed, tucking the blanket snugly around her. As sleep gently claimed her, she found herself drifting into memories of her friends, yearning for the simple joy of their company, where she could blend in and feel like an ordinary witch once more.