Just another perfectly ordinary day.
Kate glanced out the window at the setting sun as she left class, and let out a quiet sigh.
If only life could stay this peaceful forever.
Of course, in any anime worth its salt, the moment the protagonist says something like that, a villain is guaranteed to come along and stir up trouble.
Lucky for her, she wasn't the protagonist.
The actual male lead, Harry, was still trotting happily along behind Hermione, asking to borrow her History of Magic notes — because he'd dozed off in class today.
With less than a month until finals, and he was still in that state. Truly hopeless.
Kate was quietly shaking her head when she saw Hermione hurriedly hand over the notes to Harry, then turn to her: "Kate, I won't be going to dinner tonight — Professor Wynyard asked me to come by early."
"At least eat some bread before you—" Kate hadn't even finished the sentence before Hermione was already rushing down the staircase like she was running late for something.
Well. She'd just have to bring her something to eat when she went to pick her up later.
Kate scratched her head with a sigh of resignation, and felt a flicker of curiosity about what exactly Katherine wanted with Hermione.
Calling Kate in had clearly been a test. But summoning Hermione — that was probably just an afterthought, surely.
Whatever the case, Katherine was quite possibly her little aunt. She was unlikely to do anything outrageous to Hermione.
That thought settled her, and Kate relaxed considerably, falling into easy step with Harry and Ron as the three of them headed off toward the Great Hall.
"Kate, I saw in the Daily Prophet that St Mungo's Hospital — the one Professor Quirrell's been staying at — had a small fire break out in the early hours of yesterday morning," Harry said, leaning in with a conspiratorial air the moment Hermione was gone.
Kate raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And how are the patients?"
"Nothing too serious — it was put out before it spread." Even so, Harry's expression remained thoroughly worried.
He'd fallen asleep in class today because he'd been inexplicably unable to sleep the night before, which had led to him nodding off during History of Magic.
Admittedly, the class itself didn't help.
"So you think Professor Quirrell started the fire himself?" Kate asked. "What would he be trying to accomplish?"
Harry scratched his head, looking troubled. "Maybe he was trying to use the chaos to slip out and come back..."
He'd been worried ever since that Quirrell might somehow make it back to school undetected and steal the Philosopher's Stone.
Since the fire, many patients had apparently been requesting early discharge. Harry didn't know whether Quirrell was among them.
Every day lately he'd been going to listen at the door of the three-headed dog's room, reassuring himself only when he heard Fluffy's vigorous barking from within.
"His injuries won't heal that easily," Kate said, giving him a reassuring smile. "And with the Headmaster here, nothing's going to happen."
Fair enough.
In Harry's mind, with the great Dumbledore standing guard over Hogwarts, not even Voldemort would dare cause trouble.
Kate watched Harry be so easily pacified and smiled inwardly. From her own perspective, not only was there Dumbledore ahead of her, but Harry Potter himself — which made her feel even more at ease.
As for Quirrell, currently confined to a hospital bed and still apparently trying to scheme from there...
He'd taken a hit of her Dragon Breath. Either he lay low and recovered for two months, or he'd have to get Voldemort to help him.
But if it came to that, Old Man Voldemort — already so weakened — probably couldn't even maintain his wraith form any longer.
Then again... would Quirrell, out of loyalty to his master, disregard his own injuries, use the cover of the fire's confusion, and force his way out of the hospital?
Kate rubbed her chin in thought, a glint flickering briefly in her eyes.
At the same time, in the armor corridor directly facing the three-headed dog's room, one of the suits of armor gave a faint shudder — and then fell still again.
She spent a pleasant half-hour at dinner in the Great Hall before Malfoy and her entourage finally swept in, fashionably late.
Under the weight of every Slytherin's gaze, however, Malfoy barely ate more than a few mouthfuls before snatching up a couple of bread rolls and making a swift exit.
All the way until the end of term, she'd probably be stuck in that awkward limbo within the house.
Kate glanced over at Pansy, sitting perfectly composed beside her. "I thought you'd go after her."
"Draco told me beforehand — not to get too close to him for a while." Pansy took a joyless bite of her beef, then turned to meet Kate's eyes. "What about you? Have you also stopped wanting to be near him?"
Ha. She'd like to.
Just last night she'd been worried that this emotionally fragile young mistress might actually crack under the weight of the school's silent treatment and tip into something worse.
Then Kate had snuck into her room — and found her punching her pillow and cursing Kate's name under her breath.
If she'd actually shown up in person, she'd probably have been sent flying by a Dragon Ascending Fist before she could get a word in.
"I have no particular reason to make contact with him," Kate answered calmly, spreading jam across her bread with unhurried precision. "And are you sure I wouldn't be greeted with curses and jinxes if I tried?"
Pansy's head drooped a little. After a long pause, she stood. "I'm done eating."
Kate watched her retreating figure and raised her eyebrows thoughtfully.
So Malfoy and Parkinson's friendship ran a little deeper than she'd assumed.
She took her time enjoying the rest of dinner, and only once most of the other students had trickled out did Kate pack up a small slice of cake, tuck it away, and amble out of the Great Hall.
She still had more than an hour before the agreed meeting time. Kate decided to wander the long way round — a leisurely after-dinner stroll, she told herself — drifting from the Great Hall all the way toward the greenhouses.
The sky was dimming. From a distance, she spotted Professor Sprout just emerging from the greenhouse, a small round-faced figure at her side: Neville.
"Kate, perfect timing!" Professor Sprout had always had a soft spot for her, and she waved her over immediately.
"It's been so warm lately that a whole batch of herbs have ripened all at once. I'm planning to harvest the mature ones — I don't suppose you'd have time to help with some of the preliminary work?"
Well. Classic NPC quest dialogue if she'd ever heard it.
Kate instinctively checked the System — fortunately, it hadn't triggered any quest. Which meant this was an optional invitation, nothing more.
She was about to politely decline, when her gaze drifted to a few of the plants inside the greenhouse, and she hesitated. "Would I be able to take a few herbs with me — for use as Potions ingredients?"
"Of course," Professor Sprout agreed readily. "Just a few is absolutely fine."
"Then I'll do it," Kate said, nodding without further deliberation. "I don't have any classes tomorrow morning — I can come by then."
Neville's hand shot up eagerly. "I — I can come too."
Tomorrow's assistant roster thus confirmed, Kate said her goodbyes to the Professor and walked back toward the castle with Neville.
They were nearly at the castle doors when Neville finally asked, with genuine curiosity, "What herbs are you after, anyway?"
Kate pulled a long, long list from her bag. "I've actually been collecting various low-cost herbs for Potions practice for a while now. You know how expensive the ingredients are."
She wasn't exaggerating. Even ordinary Potions ingredients could run the equivalent of an average wizard's monthly salary, and rarer components were worth a small fortune.
The list Kate had written out was impressively comprehensive — long enough to leave Neville staring at it, wide-eyed.
"Do you really... need that many?"
"Of course. Why else do you think Professor Snape always wanders around with that greasy hair?"
Neville blinked blankly.
"Because—" Kate leaned in, eyes twinkling with exaggerated mystery, "—Potions ingredients are so expensive, he simply cannot afford shampoo."
"Really?" Neville fell for it completely.
The real answer, of course, was nothing of the sort.
That ingredients were expensive was true enough — but a Potions Master of Snape's calibre could brew a single bottle worth a fortune with his eyes closed.
High costs aside, the idea of him being short on money was essentially impossible.
As for why he never seemed to wash his hair...
Well. Perhaps because Harry's family had supposedly made their fortune selling shampoo in the first place.
Refusing to use a product made by a romantic rival's family — it sounded absurd even thinking it.
Kate watched Neville's expression shift into one of someone who had just uncovered a great secret, gave a light cough, and decided to commit to the lie.
"Absolutely. That must be it," she said with complete conviction. "So now you see why Herbology is such a lucrative field, don't you?"
Neville's eyes lit up with bright enthusiasm. "Yes! I'll work twice as hard, get really good at Herbology, and then sell the herbs I grow myself to Professor Snape at a discount — so he can finally afford shampoo!"
Kate snorted — she genuinely couldn't hold it back — and, unable to resist, reached over and ruffled his round, chubby little cheek.
The last part had been a bit strange, but on the whole, the con had gone rather well.
Time to go. Hermione needed picking up.
Kate stationed herself outside the office like some idle, doting parent with nothing better to do, waiting an eternity before Hermione finally emerged.
Only... the expression on her face gave her pause.
That particular blend of quiet hurt and barely-suppressed indignation told Kate immediately that things were more complicated than they appeared.
"What happened — did the Professor give you a mountain of work?" Kate stepped forward at once, taking Hermione's hand, and was surprised to find that her fingers were cool despite the summer warmth.
Hermione looked down, shaking her head. "No... she had me take a test."
Ah.
Surely Katherine hadn't gone so far as to give Hermione a fifth-year exam paper as well?
Was that something Hermione could even handle right now?
"It's all right if you didn't do well," Kate said, rushing to reassure her. "There's still time to revise before—"
"That's not it." Hermione lifted her head, cheeks puffed out with indignation. "It was a second-year paper. I scored zero."
But that was a perfect score — why did she look so upset?
Before Kate could make sense of it, Hermione added: "But the Professor said you can already handle third-year papers!"
"Ah, well, about that..." Kate scratched the back of her head awkwardly.
Technically speaking, third-year papers were well within her range — so the claim was accurate enough.
But one look at Hermione's small, fiercely competitive expression told her everything she needed to know.
"I am a whole year older than you, after all," Kate said lightly, adjusting her collar with an air of casual ease. "And aren't you already miles ahead of everyone your own age?"
The two of them spent practically every spare moment in the library — that wasn't just talk.
By Kate's estimate, Hermione's current study progress — accelerated by Kate's influence — was well into the mid-third-year range, putting her head and shoulders above her peers.
Something dimmed slightly in Hermione's eyes.
What Kate said was true. But she still wanted to push further — to catch up with Kate, or even surpass her. Only then could she truly protect her.
"Kate," Hermione said softly, giving her sleeve a little tug. "During the summer holidays... could I come to your place to study?"
"Of course," Kate said without a second's hesitation. "And if you like, you can invite some of the other students too — come and spend some time at the manor."
She'd already promised Cho Chang an invitation for the summer, after all. With Hermione added to the mix, the three of them were sure to have a wonderful time.
Hermione, of course, had no idea what was going through Kate's head — and for her own part, she had absolutely no intention of inviting anyone else to Kate's home.
"Then it's settled!" Her expression finally cleared from grey to sunshine. She extended her little finger. "Pinky promise!"
Kate smiled, and hooked her little finger gently around Hermione's. "Done. Now — I brought you a small cake. You haven't eaten all evening; you must be starving."
"Oh — now that you mention it, I am a little hungry." Hermione only seemed to realize it in that moment, pressing a hand to her tummy with an embarrassed smile.
"Come on then. Let's find somewhere to eat cake."
The two of them left together, chatting and laughing, their voices fading down the corridor.
Behind them, the light shifted and danced inside the office.
Katherine rested her cheek on one hand, studying the perfect-score test paper in front of her, her expression unreadable — somewhere between delight and unease.
It was only a second-year paper, but it had been more than enough to reveal the true level of the little witch at Kate's side.
And then there was the young Savior that Dumbledore had his eye on...
This year's intake really was something extraordinary.
Still — for now, at least, the most remarkable one remained her own little Kate.
The black-framed glasses caught a glint of light as Katherine's lips curved into a graceful smile. She picked up her pen and wrote something in her notebook.
The entire following morning, Kate spent in the greenhouse helping out, and only just finished as noon was approaching.
As her reward, she walked away with several Mandrakes.
Mandrakes were a herb with roots shaped uncannily like a human figure, capable of letting out a piercing, destructive cry.
Because of this, though Mandrakes were an effective restorative and antidote, very few people cultivated them on any large scale.
In the current British wizarding world, Hogwarts — growing them purely for educational purposes — was probably the only place with Mandrakes in any significant quantity.
Kate, for her part, wanted them purely as preparation for next year.
Next year the Chamber of Secrets would open, and the Basilisk would roam free. In the original works, many students were Petrified — and only Mandrakes could reverse the effect.
She suspected that with her involvement, the events of the Chamber of Secrets would most likely diverge from the original story, just as this year had. But it never hurt to prepare in advance.
After bidding farewell to Professor Sprout, Kate retreated to her room, applied a preservation charm to the Mandrakes, and tucked them away in the deepest corner of her ever-present handbag.
The ingredients had not come easily — they couldn't afford to be damaged.
She planned to wait until after the summer holidays and then commission a Potions Master-level brewer to prepare the potion properly.
There was certainly no shortage of Potions talent in the wizarding world. Besides Snape, there was at least one other named and notable figure in the original works.
As the sole heir of the Shafiq family, it was her duty to cultivate good relationships with specialists of that calibre.
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