Taming the True Fire (HP)

The next two days were strange at best. Catherine rarely went out of her room, and Louisa didn't press her to. House-elves brought the girl everything she needed, but she spent most of her time staring into space, reconciling herself to the unfamiliar body she now inhabited. It felt strange, alien, and not entirely hers. Even the new clothes her mother had painstakingly prepared made her stand out more than she liked.

In a moment of frustration and helplessness, the young witch attempted to cut her hair short again—only to watch in disbelief as it grew back within minutes, falling into perfect glossy waves as though mocking her efforts. There was no escaping it: she no longer had full control over her appearance. Forced to face that unsettling truth, the girl finally ventured downstairs, determined to find a suitcase in one of the storage rooms and begin packing for the trip to France.

"Need help with that?" – Greg's voice came from behind as she struggled to extract a suitcase buried beneath a pile of umbrellas.

"No, I've got it." – Catherine huffed, yanking the case free at last and turning to face her brother – "Looks like I can reach a lot of things I couldn't before."

"You're at least a head taller now." – the boy observed, smirking awkwardly – "I guess your Veela blood completely wrecking your body overnight has some perks."

"I wouldn't exactly call it wrecking." – the young witch replied, a bit defensive – "But yeah, it's going to take time to adjust. I'm not even sure I can fly the same way as before—my balance feels off because I'm heavier."

"Well, it's good news." – Greg said, nodding, though he looked slightly sheepish when his sister glared at him – "I mean, it's good news that your weight is back to normal. We were all so worried about you. And now, I guess, you can pick up your elemental training again."

"I think so, yeah." – Catherine agreed cautiously – "I suppose Dumbledore will continue teaching me, though Dad has probably messaged him already."

"I doubt it." – the young wizard replied, trying—and failing—to suppress a chuckle – "Poor man was so shocked after seeing you that he drank an entire bottle of whiskey and spent the next day praying to every deity he could think of for ending his misery."

"Will he be okay to travel tomorrow?" – the witch asked concerned.

"Oh, yeah!" – the boy shrugged nonchalantly – "Otherwise, Mom will drag him to the airport—dead or alive."

"Greg…" – Catherine hesitated, her voice betraying her unease – "I need to tell you something I overheard during the party."

"What do you mean, 'overheard'?" - he asked, his tone sharp with surprise.

Fighting back the wave of burning shame that spread across her face like wildfire, the young witch forced herself to recount, in meticulous detail, the entire conversation between Adrian Borealis and North Redmond. She spoke with determination, leaving nothing out, even as her embarrassment gnawed at her. Greg listened intently, his expression darkening with each word until his face seemed carved from stone.

When she finished, a heavy silence hung between them. The wizard finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "You do realise how incredibly dangerous and stupid that was, don't you?"

"I do!" - Catherine admitted with a sigh, unable to meet his eyes - "I'm not going to try and make excuses for what I did, but I think this is urgent. Can you tell Dad? And if it's not too much to ask, maybe leave out the part where I was the one who heard them."

Greg scoffed, rolling his eyes. "For someone who's not making excuses, you're awfully reluctant to take responsibility."

His sister bristled but said nothing as he continued. "I won't tell Dad it was you, but not because I'm protecting you. The truth is, what you overheard is important, and he's not great at juggling multiple crises when he's already stressed. But let me be clear—what you did was reckless and selfish. You need to understand something, Flame. Even if everything goes perfectly and the Council spares you, being a McMahon isn't easy. You can't afford such mistakes. These people aren't like the Slytherins you can silence with a clever remark—they're far more dangerous."

"I know." – the girl muttered, torn between irritation at being treated like a child and the uncomfortable knowledge that he was right.

"In any case, we'll need to keep a close eye on those two snakes." - Greg said, his brow furrowing in thought - "This isn't just idle chatter. They've already set something in motion, and we need to find out what."

"Can I ask you something?" – the girl finally said, her cheeks flushed – "Those things they said… about Dad and his friend Carsilion… they aren't true, are they?"

Greg blinked, momentarily thrown by his sister's question. He tried to stifle a laugh, understanding her concern was genuine—borne from her lack of experience with the convoluted games of high society. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "It's a rumour Dad and Carsilion started spreading themselves when they were teenagers. They realised early on that the other aristocrats didn't take them seriously if they pretended to be too wrapped up in their hedonistic lifestyles. After Mom and Dad got married, it became even more useful to fuel the gossip that Mom and Carsilion can't stand each other and are constantly competing for Dad's attention. This so-called 'love triangle' has been a centrepiece of rumours for years. They laugh about it behind closed doors, of course, but it works as a cover. It keeps people distracted while they do their actual work without too much scrutiny. It's a defence mechanism, and a pretty effective one at that."

"That sounds awful!" - Catherine exclaimed, looking genuinely appalled - "It means completely giving up on your pride!"

Her brother smiled faintly, his blue eyes softening as he looked at his sister. "Pride is nice to have, Flame, but it's not always practical—especially when there are people you love and want to protect."

"So Mom doesn't hate Carsilion?" – the witch asked hesitantly, feeling the weight of her own naivety despite her usual confidence.

"No, not at all. Although, apparently, things were a bit rocky between them at first." - Greg said with a chuckle - "Don't worry, sis. Mom and Dad love each other more than anything. I've never seen two people so completely devoted to each other. And Duchess McMahon has never had a shred of insecurity about Dad's feelings or her position as mistress of this House. The whole 'drama' is just a cleverly scripted act for those shallow enough to believe it. You want proof? Mom's earrings at the party were a birthday gift from Carsilion. That alone should tell you there's no trouble in our household, no matter what Borealis and Redmond think."

"He sounds like an incredible friend." - Catherine said with a relieved smile before her expression grew worried - "I just hope he doesn't hold a grudge against Dad for keeping such a big secret—like my existence—for so long."

"I'm sure he'll find it in his heart to forgive both of our parents." – Greg replied with a carefully neutral tone, though a glint of mischief flickered in his eyes. It took all his willpower not to dismantle his sister's glowing image of Marquess Carsilion Egbert by revealing that the man she admired so much for his dedication and friendship was none other than her mortal nemesis, Professor Carter Thorne. 

"It's hard to tell your friends you've been lying to them." – the young witch sighed, the weight of her inevitable confession pressing on her. The thought of risking her friendship with the boys by revealing her true identity made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Don't think about that now." – her brother said gently, correctly guessing the direction of her thoughts - "If you're going to worry about something, focus on how people at school will react when they see how you look now. I guarantee you, for most of them, that would have been a much bigger deal than finding out you're an aristocrat in disguise."

"Great. That's so comforting!" - Catherine grumbled, tossing her long hair over her shoulder, still irritated by how foreign it felt - "I'll go pack."

She turned to leave, but Greg grabbed her hand, stopping her. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad, Flame!" - he said earnestly, his blue eyes locking onto hers - "I can't fully understand what you're going through, but I'm trying. I know you'd probably prefer having a sister to help you navigate this, however, I'm still here for you. Not just now, but when we're back at school too. And if anyone dares to disrespect you, I swear I'll kick their ass."

The young witch stared at her brother for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Thanks, Greg. I do appreciate the offer, but let's not risk people gossiping that you fancy me again, especially now when it'd look way more believable."

"And have you ever even been in a fight?"- she added with a teasing smile.

"Not like a Muggle fight." – the wizard replied, sounding a little offended - "But I'm a quick learner. Fighting spirit clearly runs in the family—considering your expertise."

"I can't take all the credit." - Catherine smirked, leaning in to give her sulking brother a quick peck on the cheek - "It takes real talent to be as infuriating as Snape."

Back in her room with the suitcase in tow, the girl's eyes fell on the stack of papers scattered on her desk. A sudden idea struck her. She grabbed a pen and started writing furiously, her mind working faster than her hand could move.

'Greg does have a point.' - she mused, pausing to reread the first page – 'No matter how kind and compassionate he is, it's better to share this with someone who can truly understand. Telling Lily the whole truth turned out to be a blessing after all.'