Taming the True Fire (HP)

Chapter 37: Chapter 37: Nightmares During Christmas (3)



"That old hag!" – screamed Louisa McMahon, tossing the parchment she had just read into the roaring fire.

"What happened?" – Catherine whispered to Greg after just entering the dining room for breakfast.

"Apparently, grandma declined mom's Christmas invitation, yet again!" – the boy explained in a hushed tone.

'So long for the dull and quiet holidays.' – thought the girl observing the rage of her mother erupting, and her raw magic shattering the crystal glasses in the nearby buffet into a crystal dust. 

The noise of destruction attracted Duke McMahon and he came running from his study. Holding a half-opened letter in one hand and his wand in the other, he first looked at his daughter, who rolled her eyes at him. 

"My nymph, what's wrong?" – Edward asked, cautiously approaching his wife.

"What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong! This vile creature that calls herself my mother, once again decided she had better things to do than spend the holidays with her only daughter and grandchildren!" – vented the Duchess, her green eyes flashing with anger.

"Well, I understand all this upsets you, but it is hardly surprising. Your mother's perspective on family is different. She is not human, after all." – the Duke said soberly. 

"I can't believe you're defending her?!" – screamed Louisa whiles the utensils on the dining table started clattering. 

"No, I'm just trying to see a reason in that complicated dynamic." – Edward attempted to explain himself.

"Gotta love breakfasts at home. The food always comes with a show." – Catherine remarked casually, sipping her orange juice.

Both of her parents turned to her in surprise, as if suddenly realising they were not alone. While Greg stared blankly out the window, feigning ignorance, the Duke cleared his throat and effortlessly repaired the shattered crystal with a flick of his wand, casting a pleading glance at his wife. Louisa hesitated for a moment before audibly sighing and taking a seat at the table.

"One problem at a time, I suppose." – she said, redirecting her attention to her daughter – "Speaking about shows, we heard you made quite a spectacle around Halloween. Care to explain?"

"Can't you keep your big mouth shut?" – Catherine hissed at Greg.

"It wasn't me!" – the boy retorted, outraged by the accusations. 

"Yeah, right. Coming from a snitch like you." – the girl snarled. 

Louisa intervened, clapping her hands. "It doesn't matter who told us what. What matters is that you attract way too much attention. Why showcase your magic abilities by picking fights with Slytherins of all people?"

"Ask your informer about it!" – snapped Catherine, jumping to her feet – "Or maybe he's missed the part where I've been beaten like a Muggle, and left in a bathroom bloody and helpless."

"What?!" – the Duke asked in shock, watching his daughter dash out of the room.

"What do you mean by that?!" – the Duchess inquired anxiously – "Wait! Catherine! Come back!"

"Thanks a lot, Mom!" – shouted Greg, standing abruptly – "Whatever small progress I make with her, you two manage to destroy in a single moment."

"The fuck is happening?!" – exclaimed Edward after his son slammed the door behind him.

"I think we shall have a long conversation with Carsilion." – Louisa said slowly, the crystal glasses turning into dust once again. 

***

Catherine walked barefoot through an ancient forest, unsure of her destination. Nevertheless, she pressed on along a faintly visible path until her way was obstructed by massive, striated rocks. Without hesitation, the young witch turned left and, after a few minutes, arrived at the entrance of a large cave partially concealed by bushy grass. 

'Where am I going?' – the girl pondered as she boldly stepped through the threshold, swiftly navigating the rocky floor of the cave. 

Somewhere in the distance, the echoing sound of a river or a small waterfall reached Catherine's ears. Following her instincts, the young witch sought out the source of the sound. Upon reaching the far end of the cave, she found herself standing before what seemed to be a bottomless chasm. Something compelled her to step to the edge, and with horror, she realised she was about to do just that.

Rather than plummeting to her demise, however, Catherine found herself in a dimly lit cave hall. A small rushing torrent filled the space with the booming sound of water and heavy, sticky humidity. The walls of the cave were adorned with ancient runic symbols the meaning of which eluded Catherine. In the centre of the hall, a large granite altar held a lavishly decorated golden chest.

Approaching the altar cautiously, Catherine sensed strange alterations in the magic. It felt tainted and wrong. Just a few steps away from the magic circle surrounding the altar, her gaze fell upon a woman kneeling not more than half a meter away. The young witch gasped in surprise, staring at the unfamiliar figure. 

"I'm sorry!" – the girl attempted to say, but no sound escaped her lips.

Changing direction, she hastened towards the motionless woman. Long, wavy ebony black hair cascaded in disarray around the woman's face and shoulders. Her once-white robes were now dirty and stained.

Before Catherine could reach the stranger, though, the woman turned her head, locking her ocean-blue eyes onto the girl. Countless screams echoed in Catherine's mind. She saw rivers of blood and mountains of lifeless bodies at her feet. Then, the all-too-familiar female laughter filled her ears until she realised in utter horror that it was her own laughter. Glancing down, her hands were drenched in hot scarlet blood, the drops forming a morbid pattern on the cave floor. The nauseating smell overwhelmed her, and she felt the urge to vomit. Her body trembled violently.

"Flame! Flame! What's wrong? Wake up!"

Catherine finally opened her eyes to see Greg's worried face, as he shook her in attempt to wake her up. Her hair was damp with sweat, and the nauseous feeling from the nightmare still lingered.

"What's going on?" – she heard her mother's voice as Louisa entered the room, switching on the light. 

The young witch tried to speak, but only choking sounds escaped her mouth. Louisa's expression turned to one of serious concern. 

"I think she had a really bad nightmare, Mom. She still can't shake it off." – explained Greg.

"Do you want to come sleep with me and your dad?" – the Duchess asked gently, brushing a damp streak of hair from her daughter's face.

Catherine only nodded slightly, taking her mother's hand who immediately apparated them to the Master bedroom. 

*** 

Greg woke up early in the next morning, the midnight rush to his sister's bedroom feeling like a distant memory. 

'Maybe being at home affects her more negatively than I had thought.' – he mumbled sadly to himself.

Dressing in the quiet house, the boy suddenly realised it was Christmas morning. He practically sprinted downstairs to the tall, lavishly decorated Christmas tree. The silver ornaments sparkled in the dim morning light filtering through the French windows. 

Since they didn't really have any specific traditions regarding opening presents, Greg decided not to wait for the rest of his family and began unwrapping his gifts. Halfway through the pile sent from his school friends, he noticed a rather shabby-looking package in green and silver. Intrigued by the sender, the young wizard grabbed the gift and read the attached note.

I hope this satisfies your inner Slytherin, and you'd stop emotionally blackmailing me. Merry Christmas! 

C.M.M

Greg impatiently ripped off the paper to reveal a beautiful handmade friendship bracelet in green and silver. He burst into laughter and immediately fasten it around his wrist. 


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