Chapter 186: The Gryffindor Pride (4)

The evening sun cast its final golden rays through the tall, arched windows of Dumbledore's office, filling the room with a soft, amber light. The faint hum of enchanted instruments added a steady rhythm to the air, accompanied by the occasional murmurs from the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses, their painted faces shifting in the fading glow. The scent of parchment and wax lingered, faintly touched by the sharp sweetness of lemon sherbet. Behind his polished desk, Dumbledore sat in his high-backed chair, his half-moon glasses catching the light as he leaned back, fingers steepled in quiet thought.

A sharp knock on the door interrupted the Headmaster's thoughts. Without waiting for an invitation, Carsilion strode into the office, his handsome face marked by the strain of quite a few sleepless nights.

"Good evening, my friend." – the older wizard greeted with calm composure, a subtle twinkle in his eyes – "You look positively dreadful this evening."

"Thank you, Albus." – the Marquess replied, offering a crooked smile as he sank into the chair opposite – "Your observational skills are as sharp as ever, despite the wear and tear of age."

Dumbledore's lips curved slightly beneath his snow-white beard. "Age, my boy, only sharpens the mind—though I appreciate the sentiment. In truth, I was hoping to speak with you, so your arrival is most fortuitous."

"What a remarkable coincidence." – the aristocrat smirked, leaning back – "Shall I guess the topic? A certain student with a fiery disposition and powers to match?"

Dumbledore's smile deepened. "Ah, we might address that, indeed. But I was also considering a certain professor who appears to prefer spending their nights in another professor's chambers, rather than the ones kindly provided to them."

Carsilion's eyebrows shot up, though his smirk remained firmly in place. "Is there anything you don't see, Albus?"

"Very little," - Dumbledore admitted, his voice light with amusement - "But I assure you, I have no intention of scolding. My interest is merely...academic. Tell me, has love at last ensnared you, despite your best efforts to elude it?"

The Marquess groaned, his patience fraying. "Why is it that everyone seems to think they know more about my feelings than I do? Minerva and I have an understanding. We enjoy each other's company, we respect each other's boundaries, and we appreciate the chemistry. That's all."

The older wizard chuckled softly, his blue eyes sparkling. "A rather clinical description for a man of your reputation, wouldn't you say? And by that reaction, I suspect Duke McMahon has recently expressed a similar sentiment."

"Yes, you're both equally infuriatingly nosy." - Carsilion retorted, scowling - "Perhaps you could redirect that endless curiosity of yours toward matters more pressing than my love life—such as Catherine's struggles with Occlumency. Edward and I are quite concerned." 

"She is indeed not showing the progress I had hoped for." - Dumbledore admitted, his tone contemplative - "It's clear she's putting in considerable effort, but the frustration is beginning to weigh on her. At this stage, I can't say for certain whether it's a mental block or something more elusive. What is evident, however, is that Catherine is growing increasingly impatient—undoubtedly exacerbated by the toll her chronic lack of sleep is taking."

"The nightmares are deeply concerning," – the other wizard replied, his expression clouded with unease - "Frankly, I'm astounded she's managed to resist their influence for so long."

"I'm not." - Dumbledore said, a confident smile softening his features - "I understand that you and her family are profoundly worried, but Catherine possesses an inner strength and resilience that is truly remarkable. I have no doubt she can maintain the seal."

"But at what cost, Albus?" - Carsilion asked, his voice dropping to a near whisper - "You've seen it yourself—she's wasting away before our eyes. How much longer do you think her body can endure this strain before it breaks?"

"That is, without question, a pressing concern." - the Headmaster agreed - "But I suspect the greater issue lies with her elemental magic training rather than the demon's leaking magic."

"Louisa shares the same opinion." – the Marquess said carefully – "She consulted her mother and plans to bring Catherine to France over the summer. She thinks living within a Veela covenant might help balance her powers."

"A most intriguing hypothesis." - Dumbledore mused, his fingers steepled - "It certainly seems worth exploring. In fact, I sought the insight of an old friend—a female fire mage—and she confirmed that wielding true fire places a significant strain on the young female body. However, my concern lies in the fact that she is a Salamander-type mage, while Catherine's potential is markedly greater. The toll on her may be far more severe, possibly even lethal."

"How can you speak of this so calmly?" - Carsilion exclaimed, a note of horror in his voice.

"It is, at present, only a theory." – the older man replied gently, his calm demeanour unshaken - "But I agree that action is required. For now, I believe it would be prudent to halt her elemental training. She has learned enough to control accidental outbursts, and her body needs time to rest and recover. Let us hope this reprieve will be sufficient."

"Edward's not going to like this." – the Marquess frowned – "We need her to be as adept in wielding true fire as possible by the time the other Houses find out about her. It's our only hope for the Council to spare her."

"I am well aware of his Grace's plans," - Dumbledore said, rising to his feet and pacing the room with the deliberate grace of a man whose thoughts travelled far and fast - "But awareness, my dear friend, does not imply agreement. It's a bold wager you're making, and one that might not pay off. Catherine might find far greater happiness if she were integrated into the ordinary wizarding world. Here, she has friends. Here, her talents could inspire celebration rather than fear."

"Really?" – Carsilion scoffed – "Even if she keeps her alias of a Muggle-born? Come now, Albus, you're not that naive. You know what's happening out there. Voldemort is expanding his influence at a pace that would make a Niffler in Gringotts look sluggish. At this rate, he could very well seize control of the Ministry before Catherine even graduates."

"Which," – the Headmaster replied, his voice calm but firm - "is precisely why we need individuals like her. Organising resistance against Tom and his supporters is not merely important—it is essential."

"So you're once again turning her into a chess piece for your grand designs?" - Carsilion snapped, springing to his feet - "I warned you, Albus. Catherine McMahon is not a pawn to be sacrificed, no matter how noble your intentions may be."

"Is it truly I who am guilty of using her?" - Dumbledore asked, his voice low but resonating with such force that Carsilion instinctively took a step back - "From where I stand, it appears you are the one eager to see her and Edward thrown into the fire to settle old scores. My role has been simple—I offered Catherine the truth and respected her decisions. Perhaps it's time you and the Duke realised that she is no fragile keepsake to be locked away, nor a weapon to wield at your convenience, but a person with her own life to live."

"Apparently, Albus, our definitions of what's best for Catherine differ." - the Marquess's voice was cold as he turned toward the door - "It's not your place to decide how she prepares for what's to come. I understand you won't teach her elemental magic, and I agree that her lessons should pause until her body recovers. However, her Occlumency training must continue. If you won't do it, Edward will."

"I strongly advise against it." - Dumbledore said darkly, his tone losing some of its usual lightness - "Occlumency is no simple discipline. If her health falters, the effort may compromise the seal that holds the demon at bay. Its weakening is already evident in the magic leaking through her nightmares. That seal is only stable when her true fire power is in balance—and that requires her to use it actively."

"So your grand solution," - Carsilion shot back, his eyes flashing - "is to do nothing and hope for the best?"

"No," – the Headmaster replied, his voice rising, though still measured - "my solution is to trust her. Catherine's instincts have carried her this far. But her body lags behind her spirit, and what she needs now is time and peace—luxuries, I grant you, in these troubled times, but no less vital for their scarcity."

"Time is not something we have!" - the Marquess hissed. Before either could say more, a sharp knock at the door silenced them both.

"Professor Dumbledore, I'm here for our lesson." - Catherine said as she opened the door to his office, only to freeze mid-step at the sight of her Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Her expression hardened almost immediately.

"Ah, come in, my dear!" - the Headmaster said warmly, his usual twinkle in place - "Professor Thorne was just leaving."

"Of course." – the other man muttered gruffly, brushing past without sparing her so much as a glance.

"He looked really pissed." – the girl remarked with a smirk as she slid into her usual seat across from Dumbledore's desk.

"As is often the case with youth, Professor Thorne believes he sees the larger picture more clearly than anyone else." - Dumbledore said, his tone kind yet amused - "His heart is undoubtedly in the right place, but like many Air Mages, he is prone to overestimating the reach of his intuition."

"Is that some kind of inside joke among Elementalists?" – the young witch asked, her smile widening.

"Not so much a joke as an accumulation of centuries' worth of observations." – the Headmaster replied with a small chuckle, settling into his chair - "But tell me, how are you, Catherine? Has the euphoria of your recent Quidditch victory begun to wane?"

"More or less."- she said with a shrug - "It's been replaced by the euphoria of preparing for exams."

"Ah, an equally thrilling adventure." - Dumbledore smirked, the familiar sparkle in his eye - "I trust you're managing to study properly despite your difficulties with sleep?"

"Not sleeping does give me plenty of extra time to review." – the girl replied with forced cheerfulness - "But thanks to the Dreamless Sleep Potion, I've been able to rest a bit more. So, thank you, sir."

"It is a temporary solution, nothing more." – the Headmaster cautioned gently - "You are still very young, and such potions, while helpful in moderation, can quickly lead to dependence."

"I know." – the young witch said, her tone sharpening with frustration - "But I can't just sleep and risk my uncontrolled magic hurting someone again. What happened in Lily's presence was bad enough—it can't happen a second time."

Dumbledore nodded, his expression both grave and understanding. After the fateful incident in the Gryffindor girls' dormitory, Catherine had confided in him immediately, though she had chosen not to inform her parents, fearing the uproar it would cause.

"And how is Miss Evans?"- he asked suddenly, his voice lighter.

"She's been amazing." – the girl said without hesitation - "Kind, understanding… I don't know how I'll ever repay her, especially after all the lies I've told her over the years."

"I am glad to hear it."- the older wizard nodded - "Friendship is a most precious gift, my dear, particularly in difficult times. Miss Evans's maturity and compassion are a credit to her character."

"They really are." – Catherine smiled - "I feel lucky to have friends like her—and the boys, too. Can you imagine? They didn't even freak out when I used true fire in front of them. I know I shouldn't have, but I needed to prove a point, and… it turned out fine."

The girl's words faltered as she noticed the stern expression on the Headmaster's face. Regret pooled in her chest as she lowered her gaze, bracing herself for the scolding she was certain would come.

After a pause, Dumbledore's voice broke the silence, soft but heavy. "Catherine, I believe it would be wise to pause your practice of Elemental magic for a time."

Her head snapped up, disbelief etched across her face. "What? No!" - she burst out, leaping to her feet - "I'm sorry I used my power in front of the boys. I'll take any punishment you think I deserve, but please, Professor—I can't stop now. I have to grow stronger! It's the only way to be free!"

"This is no punishment, my dear girl!" - Dumbledore replied, his tone laced with concern as he leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze steady - "Your health, both physical and mental, is a matter of great importance—not just to me, but to your family as well. Surely you've noticed how much weight you've lost over the school year. Your fire inclination, while extraordinary, seems to take a considerable toll on your body. The more you wield true fire, the more it consumes you."

Catherine froze, her hands trembling as she clenched them into fists. "So you're telling me that if I use true fire, I'll die?" - she demanded, her voice trembling with both anger and desperation. Tears welled in her eyes - "And yet I've made no progress with Occlumency! I'm completely defenceless against the demon. What am I supposed to do? Go home, sit quietly, and wait to lose control?"

"Not at all!" – the Headmaster responded, his voice firm but warm. Rising from his chair, he took a step closer, as though to bridge the gap between them - "You are far stronger than you realise, Catherine, and I have every confidence that you will find a way to resist Alecto's powers. Isolation, however, is not the answer—it would do far more harm than good. What you need is patience. Rushing forward without care will only set you back further. There is a way to continue your training, but it must be done with caution and respect for the limits of your body."

Catherine let out a bitter laugh, her expression hardening as she turned toward the door. "Sure… taking it easy sounds nice." - she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm - "Too bad it's a luxury I've never had."

Before Dumbledore could reply, she dashed out, slamming the door behind her.