...Mudblood
“No, that’s alright! You may leave the classroom as it is. We’ll meet again on Monday,” Professor McGonagall bid farewell as the door to the transfiguration classroom swung open, letting out a class of fourth year Gryffindors.
Catallena stood to the side and waited for the students to leave their last class of the day. She then entered the room herself and looked around in wonder, for she didn’t remember the classroom being so fluffy.
A sneeze shook the girl and took Professor McGonagall by surprise as well. She looked up from behind the teacher’s desk and tried to school her amused expression into a more severe one – this was supposed to be a detention, after all.
“Miss Nocturne. You’re just on time. You will start today’s detention by cleaning up the classroom.”
The girl simply set down her book bag, accepted the small dustpan handed to her and set to work. No complaints or protests. No words or rolling of eyes either, noticed McGonagall.
Catallena started from the back of the class.
As it turned out, the whole room looked like a soft cloud because the fourth year Gryffindors had been tasked with transfiguring pillows into doves, which proved to be quite difficult. When the spell hadn't yet been perfected, it managed to blow the pillows up into the air, creating a layer of scattered feathers all over each surface of the class. They floated in the air, stuck to her clothing and tickled her nose as the witch moved.
Catallena swept a few feathers into the dustpan and they magically disappeared as if it had eaten them. It wouldn’t be a quick process but she was fascinated –if not almost happy– to be doing the task. She pranced around, waving her dustpan and brush, blowing and kicking feathers into the air and seeing how many feathers the dustpan would eat at once.
When Professor McGonagall looked up from the papers she had been grading at her desk, she was greeted with the sight of the little girl lying down in the white feathers – as if she were making snow angels.
“Miss Nocturne! I would advise you to keep working unless you would prefer to stay here much longer and miss dinner because of your silly game. This is a detention, not a playground. There is still a lot of work left to do.”
This straightened the girl up and they both resumed their work. From then on Professor McGonagall tried to ignore the way the girl kept hopping around and sneezing. Feathers kept lessening as they were swept up into the hungry dustpan even during the child’s strange dance, after all.
McGonagall pretended to be busy with her paperwork but momentarily peered at Catallena over the thin rims of her glasses. The older woman’s eyes glinted with amusement and exasperation.
Once each floating feather had been caught and disposed of, Catallena was instructed to polish an array of silver spoons used during a second year transfiguration lesson.
The two witches sat in silence as they both worked on their own tasks. The only sounds in the room were the soft clinking of spoons, the steady scratching of a quill and rustling of papers, as well as the ticking of a clock mounted onto the wall behind the two. It was well into the evening and dinner was fast approaching.
When McGonagall was finishing up marking her papers, she noticed that the sound of spoons being polished had stopped. She peeled her eyes from her spot and looked at the girl sitting at one of the tables in the front row. Shiny spoons were laid out in great order and the girl was now just… sitting there.
What was it with this girl? Her strange behaviour unsettled the professor. The girl didn't seem to be in any hurry to leave detention.
Catallena was seemingly deep in thought, staring unblinkingly at the ink bottle on McGonagall’s right side. McGonagall cleared her throat, which halted the girl’s legs from swinging furiously back and forth in the air under the table.
Their eyes met briefly for the first time when Catallena glanced over to see the professor remove her glasses and set them onto the table. The contact resulted in a slight chill running down the older woman’s spine and Catallena was quick to turn her focus back on the ink pot. McGonagall, contrarily, inspected the girl with a taut brow. Didn't the student have friends to run off to? McGonagall hadn't seen Catallena spending time with anyone.
“How have the first few days at Hogwarts been? Have you made any friends? In your House, perhaps?”
The teacher’s questions were a surprise to Catallena. She was expecting a reprimand for staring or possibly not doing a proper job with cleaning the spoons. Her tense shoulders relaxed slightly and she braved a look at the frowning corners of the other’s mouth.
She thought about it for a while. None of the other students had been very friendly towards her so far. Even during her short time at the school, she often saw how students of all ages and houses greeted each other in the hallways between classes, ate together in the Great Hall and spent their evenings in the common room playing games and helping each other with homework.
She thought back to yesterday, when the first years walked to their classes in groups, wanted their friends to sit next to them, and talked about their summers together. She thought about the dirty looks they shot at her in the meantime. Daphne Greengrass’ voice rang in her ears as she reminded herself that no-one thought she belonged here. She didn’t fit in any of the houses and even though nobody knew her, she was not seen as a true Ravenclaw. An outcast before she even had the time to introduce herself.
She accepted this, although with a slightly heavier heart than before. She didn’t know any better. During her first sleepless night at the castle, when she had felt burdened by the lack of warmth, Catallena had comforted herself by thinking about how so far the greatest company she had had was herself. She didn’t need a friend to have fun or explore magic with.
It didn’t seem like the kind of answer the professor was looking for, however, so she thought of those who hadn’t yet been mean to her.
“George and Fred napped in the grass with me. And Sir Warricke didn’t mind my playing.” In a quieter voice she added, hesitant to share in case McGonagall was still upset with her: “The Giant Squid gave me a present…” She dug into her pocket and fished out a small rounded stone to show to the professor.
The teacher rolled the stone in her palm. There was a long pause during which Catallena thought of asking McGonagall if she was her friend and the professor tried to organise her own thoughts and feelings.
This girl had to be mad to be going into the lake out of her own volition. And thinking that she was now friends with this Squid? Unacceptable. There were dangers in the lake that even McGonagall didn’t wish to know of and she wished even less to one day have to fish a dead girl from the water.
Sir Warricke, although a fine man with whose portrait McGonagall had had many conversations previously, was just that. A painting. Did the girl not have any friends of her own age and… species?
And of all the students at Hogwarts why did it have to be the up-to-no-good Weasley twins. The thought had her sighing out loud, but at the same time it had her heart swelling with a bit of pride and contentment toward her own students. She knew the twins could be very sweet and familial despite their constant rule-breaking and troublemaking.
She gave back the stone and rubbed her temple. “Miss Nocturne. While I’m… glad… that you have made friends, I must forbid you from going to the lake, at the very least. You should be making friends with fellow Ravenclaws and first years, not beasts. Try talking to others, for a start. I’ve heard you say less than fifty words since I met you.”
Catallena squeezed the stone in her fist, though she didn’t talk back or explain that there were rumours of her that made talking to unbiased people difficult. Or that she didn’t care much for talking, for that matter.
“And the Weasley twins… Just… Do not accept any Dungbombs they may try to give you. I don’t want you to agree to any of the practical jokes they will undoubtedly try to get you wrapped up in. That would result in more detention.”
If Catallena was honest, she wouldn’t mind spending another evening playing in the feathers and spending a little time with her favourite professor. Even then, she nodded her agreement to the professor.
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth to say something more, but a knock at the door stopped her. A student came in, clearly having something important to discuss with the professor and McGonagall dismissed Catallena after looking at the clock: “That’s it for today, then. It is time you went to dinner. I hope you’ve learnt your lesson. If I find out that you’ve been out swimming, the consequences will be severe.”
Catallena answered the teacher’s raised brow with a curtsy and she then disappeared into the hallway with her book bag and a few saved feathers.
Evening brought with it shadows that once again covered the school grounds. Crickets made noises of contemptment when the hot afternoon turned into a cool summery night. The only noises that reached the common room, however, were the hoots of owls and croaks of crows. A slight wind gently rattled the windows of the Astronomy tower.
Catallena had managed to find a nice spot in a cushy reading corner. It had been empty, but now Ravenclaws filed into the room after their dinner. Catallena sat there with her potions homework and a white chocolate cupcake, distractedly people-watching her housemates.
Some had changed out of their school uniforms and settled into their own seating arrangements to study like Catallena had. Many read books and took notes for extra credit, no doubt.
Others gathered with their friends to play games. There were multiple chess boards around the room with chess pieces that would move on the players’ command. A game of cards looked less magical, but the students seemed to be having just as much fun playing.
A group of five to Catallena’s left was having a debate as to whether Filch was married to his cat Norriss and if the cat was actually just a cat. Catallena couldn't help eavesdropping.
“She could be an animagus.”
“Why would someone want to be a cat as ugly as her and keep their humanity a secret, then?”
“On the contrary, who would want to be known as Filch’s wife? I would be a cat out of embarrassment too.”
“Right! Or maybe she’s been cursed.”
“Whoever cursed her must be very foul. Can’t think of a worse fate than to be a cat owned by such a miserable Squib.”
“I think they’re rather perfect for each other, don’t you? Neither of them can perform magic, they hate children equally, they both smell like tuna and they’re both balding. Where one goes the other follows and it is very clear that Filch actually cares about the cat a lot.”
“He cares a bit too much, if you ask me. I keep wanting to kick the kitty but I know he would have my head if he found out. And mind you, I am completely convinced that she can talk to him.”
“He would have you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons, if it were up to him. And then expelled, no doubt.”
“Yeah I– What are you looking at?”
Catallena flinched at the sudden question thrown her way. She hadn’t meant to stare, she just found the discussion interesting. She could think of multiple reasons why one would prefer to live as a cat.
The whole group was looking at her and sizing her up.
“Don’t you have anything better to do? Somewhere else to be?”
“It’s the ‘I wanted blue’ girl. The Hatstall.” They all took turns saying 'I wanted blue' as dumbly as they could: They would cross their eyes and mumble the words to see who could make the best mockery out of Catallena - as if they were quoting someone very slow. They found great entertainment in it.
“How could I forget the girl who the sorting hat couldn’t place into any of the houses? We had to stare at her on the stool for twenty minutes.”
“Are you sure you’re in the right place? At Hogwarts, I mean. Isn’t the homework too difficult for you?” a boy asked, leaning in and taking a look at her nearly completed potions notes. Catallena drew back and shook her head a little.
“No? See, maybe this school has a place for Squibs like Filch and you. Writing notes doesn’t require any magic, but once you need to learn spells, I bet you’ll find out soon enough where your place is."
“Maybe Dumbledore will be nice enough to let you stay if you beg enough.”
Catallena was about to correct them and tell them that she could do magic, but their verbal attack continued:
“Or maybe you’re not a Squib. Maybe you’re a Muggle and there’s been a mistake. You don’t have a familiar last name.”
“They’ll send you right back home!”
“I’m a Muggle-born,” Catallena finally found her voice.
“Oh, great! I’m sure you are,” said a sarcastic older girl.
“Not a Muggle-born – A Mudblood,” challenged another. The others giggled and one of the boys in the group gasped between laughter with a weak protest:
“You shouldn’t say that. You’ll get into trouble.” They didn’t seem too worried. Catallena wondered what they would be in trouble for.
“It’s true, though! She is a Mudblood. And the name's fitting, since she’s dirtying up our reputation with her weak magic and Hatstall.” This earned more laughter and some studying students shushed at them. However, Catallena’s confused face prompted louder cackling and when they were given more annoyed looks, she excused herself and left the ruckus behind her.
Her homework was finished in her dorm. Catallena was put in an awful mood though she wasn’t sure what it exactly was that had caused that whole exchange. With a far-away look she got ready for bed way too early and hid beneath her blankets behind the bed’s blue velvet curtains.
She was deep in thought, stroking Princess Kisa’s fur and twirling the white feathers she had pocketed in the transfiguration classroom between her nimble fingers. Not even her books could ease her mind, so she laid still and looked at the darkening sky through her window.
Her roommates climbed into their beds a few hours later, but nothing moved Catallena. Padma cried again that night, Harper snored very loudly and Lisa whined and talked in her sleep – she kept asking for ‘limes, no tomatoes’ and Catallena had enough.
Her bare feet shuffled quietly out of the room and up to the common room. She made sure that the space was empty and speedily slipped through the entryway into the tower’s staircase.
Another night was spent walking the hallways but the previous sense of joy was nowhere to be found. The girl didn’t find it in herself to feel less apathetic than she did during most days. The wonder and comfort of solitude was, for the time being, stamped out by that group of third years in the common room.
Catallena couldn’t shake away their words.
She didn’t mean to dirty up the house’s reputation by being a bad witch. She didn’t want to be known and hated as the house reject, either. How would she even be able to try talking to others and making friends her age like McGonagall had requested, if she was such scum.
Catallena kicked the carpet every now and then, thudding her way deeper into the castle. She didn’t bother wasting energy on shining brighter in order to see forward. Instead, she ran her hand along one wall, taking turns as they came. She didn't feel like shining tonight.
The ball of her left foot made contact with the ground again, making another stomping sound.
“Who’s there?”
The deep drawling voice stopped the girl in her tracks. She forgot to breathe as she listened for any other noises in case it was simply a disturbed painting. She was thinking of an apology when the shuffling of robes interrupted her thoughts. Someone was at the end of the corridor.
“It is past curfew. No students are allowed out of bed,” the man’s voice said, this time with an irritated tone. An orb of white-blue light at the end of a wand approached fast with the voice and Catallena recoiled. Before the light could reach her, she turned the corner back towards the way she had come from and sneaked into a room through a door.
She waited with her ear pressed to the door until she was sure that the man had gone past. She relaxed against the wood.
Catallena hadn’t honestly known about any curfews. Not that a curfew would keep her from roaming the castle. She was just a little impressed by not having stumbled across any other adults so far.
She looked around the room she had entered in her escape. It was an empty classroom full of silver moonlight that was let in through tall windows. Catallena weaved between stone pillars and left footprints on the dusty floor.
Between the pillars she saw something that caught all of her attention. A tall mirror with thick carved frames stood in the furthest corner of the classroom. Maybe it was the rays of soft moonlight or the thick dust, but the mirror looked hazy – like it was radiating magic and power. It seemed too ethereal to be there in a simple abandoned room of a school. It clearly had a purpose greater than an ordinary mirror.
The witch walked towards the mirror until she could make out the writing carved into the silver frame. Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi, it read. Catallena didn’t understand the language, but she memorised it anyway. She sounded it out and it felt pretty on her tongue.
She finally fixed her eyes on her reflection and walked forward. When she saw herself, shining once more, a gasp left her trembling lips.