The Chronicles of the Forgotten Potter

A few weeks had passed since Kat and George’s split. The others were all somewhat relieved that they would no longer have to mediate their fights. Kat appeared to have bounced back rather quickly, somehow managing to exude a rather chipper attitude. However, her dreams had not been getting any better. Thankfully none were like the one that had occurred on the first night of school. She continued on with a resilient temperament, refusing for the dreams to put a damper on her days.

George, on the other hand, was clearly not taking the break up very well at all. He attempted to put up a rather successful front for Kat and others, but most, especially the golden trio, his siblings, and his close friends. He was trying so desperately to move on and shut all affectionate thoughts that ranged past a sisterly level from his mind. He missed her… if only she missed him too.



“Today class, we will be brewing a healing potion for deep and mortal wounds,” the potions master droned in his stereotypical monotone voice, “Turn to page 234 of your textbooks and begin.” His droll voice seemed to have a slight tinge of boredom laced within. The students opened their texts with the robotic, typical motions of the day, many issuing a sigh or grumbling as they did so.

Snape watched with amusement as Harry fumbled through his potion, loving to watch the boy’s clear look of irritation as the ingredients seemed to have some kind of personal vendetta against him as they always seemed to do. His gaze swept to the boy’s twin sister, his amusement only growing at her brother’s misfortune as she breezed through hers. Katherine was, as had been mentioned many a time to her before, was a spitting image of her mother in looks and in personality. The identical hair colour to her brother along with the several similar personality traits that she shared both with her brother and her father (namely her love for pranking and her sometimes cocky demeanour) marred her fair resemblance to Lily.

He walked around, inspecting the often dreadful potions that his students were brewing, many of their potions the incorrect shade of blue, some being too dark, others the wrong colour all together. Seamus Finnegan had already managed to cause his brew to spark and explode in his face, earning snickers from some of his classmates. Kat’s however was the perfect shade of blue as she stirred it with a precision that could only be attributed to Lily Potter. She, like her mother, had a knack for potions, one that Snape was grateful for, her resemblance to Lily was almost uncanny when she was working in class, right down to the small furrow in her brow as she concentrated on the directions.

Kat was kind, not arrogant like her father had been, which was evident in how she helped poor, pathetic little Longbottom with his potion when she could and at times when she thought the professor wasn’t watching. Although he had indeed watched her aid her fellow Gryffindor, Snape could not find it within himself to deduct points from her and instead allowed her to continue without acknowledgement or punishment.

She flasked hers after giving one last helpful hint to Neville and proceeded up to the potions master’s desk, handing him the completed potion. She was the first to hand hers in, receiving 10 points to Gryffindor for her quickness and stunning accuracy in producing a perfect potion upon inspection of the professor. She shot her brother a sympathetic look as she passed, seeing his potion was a very dark blue colour, almost nearing a black shade. As Snape made another round checking the progress of his students, he was greatly amused by the rather pitiful comparison of the Potter twins’ potions, nearly grinning at Harry’s blatant failure to produce a somewhat decent potion.



“I bloody hate potions,” Harry fumed as the four of them entered the common room. Ron let out a groan of agreement as the two boys simultaneous plopped down on the couch by the fireplace. Hermione rolled her eyes as she sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs, beginning the assignment that Snape had given them, “Honestly you two, if you would just pay attention and follow the instructions you would do fine!” The three of them began to bicker and argue about potions while Kat merely chuckled as she began one of her many homework assignments with a rather highly amused look on her face.

“Kat,” came the slightly whiny and vexed voice of her twin brother. “Yes, Harry,” she replied more as a statement then a question, sounding more like an impatient mother responding to her winging child, not looking up from her work. “Why is it that you brew brilliantly potions effortlessly and I can’t even brew the simplest ones for shite?” Her gaze flickered up to meet his frustrated stare, “I dunno Harry, enlighten me. How am I supposed to know? Genetics? The fact that Snape for some reason completely despises you? The very real possibility that you don’t pay attention to the instructions given in class? You tell me!” she exclaimed, her stare matching his level of irritation. She hated when he compared himself to her, their lives weren’t a competition, although sometimes she felt they were treated as such and it most certainly did not help that she had an almost equally short temper like her brother. She was better at internalising as opposed to his rather impulsive lack of self-control. He shrugged, at a loss for words, allowing her to return to the assignment on her lap.

The boys eventually headed up to their dorm room preferring to put off the homework that they had accumulated over the span of the day, choosing instead to relax a bit before dinner. The girls, however, remained where they were doing their homework so they wouldn’t have to worry about doing it over the weekend, seeing as it was Friday. There was quidditch practice after dinner and Harry had his last detention with Umbridge. Kat was to play seeker in his absence.

She was a brilliant seeker, although not nearly as good as her brother, but she was an even better chaser. Quidditch was in her blood and she knew it. Just like her father, she was an excellent flyer, a natural at the position who was known for her very quick reflexes, agility on her broom, and powerful throw, not to mention her deadly aim. In every sense of quidditch she stepped into the full physical embodiment of her father’s skill and talent in the sport and out from the realm of her mother’s shadow.



Dinner was rather uneventful with Hermione lecturing Ron about neglected prefect duties while Kat was trying to cheer her brother up. He was understandably glum as he prepared himself mentally to suffer through another torture-filled punishment from Old Toad Face, as Ron had dubbed her. She gave him a warm hug before they all parted ways, he to detention, she to practice with Ron, and Hermione to the library.

Kat was trying to give Ron’s confidence level a little boost as they walked to the quidditch pitch, brooms in hand. Her words of encouragement seemed to have been slightly successful until they passed a group of Slytherins who, as if on cue, promptly began to chant, “Weasley is our King,” completely shattering what little progress she had made at rebuilding Ron’s seemingly constantly deteriorating self-esteem. His cheeks and ears burned red as his confidence level plummeted to the dark abyss once more. “Don’t listen to the mate,” she said soothingly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as they continued to walk. “But they’re right!” he exclaimed, clearly teetering on the edge of defeat, “I’m rubbish Kat.” She sighed, dropping her hand from his shoulder, “No, Ron. You’re not rubbish. You’ve been improving so much!” He looked somewhat unconvinced, causing her to sigh once more, “If you’re really that concerned about this Ron, I’ll help you with some extra practice, okay?” He gave her a grateful look, attempting a half-hearted smile, “Thanks mate, you’re the best.” She gave him a warm, reassuring smile as they reached the pitch, “No problem Ron.”

“Hey, Angelina,” Kat said with a small smile as she greeted the clearly frazzled quidditch captain who had a mixed expression of a frown, stress, and what seemed to be an attempt of a smile that came out more as a grimace. “Hey Kat,” she replied as the rest of the team filtered out onto the pitch. “Harry has his last detention tonight, he’ll be ready to play by the match tomorrow,” she said softly, so as not to further agitate the edgy girl in front of her. “Good,” she answered curtly, “He better be on top of his game, we’re playing Ravenclaw and from what I hear, they have a fairly strong team this year.” Kat could tell that she was worried about the team, “He will be, don’t worry. Do you want me to work with Ron?” Angelina looked at her friend with a relieved expression plastered on her face, “Could you?” Kat nodded with a smile. “Thanks, Kat, that’d be brilliant. Katie and I’ll work with the others.” Kat nodded, grabbing a quaffle and swiftly mounting her broom. Ron followed suit, trailing behind her up to the hoops with an uneasy look on his face.

They worked together for the whole practice, each throw and exercise increasing in difficulty and power with Kat coaxing Ron onward. The constant stream of pointers and words of encouragement were helping to rebuild the damaged confidence that the Slytherins had harshly inflicted upon the poor boy. His overall skills as a keeper were improving. Their first match was tomorrow and Kat was hoping that Ron’s low and now slowly building self-confidence in both himself and the sport would hold up against the sure-to-be-cruel taunts from the Slytherin spectators.



Harry’s POV

My hand was killing me after my detention with Umbridge. The phrase “I must not tell lies” was etched painfully into the back of my hand. I nursed it gently as I walked to the common room, cradling it to my side. I finally reached the Fat Lady’s portrait mumbling the password, walking in as soon as she swung open. I found the room to be mostly empty with the exception of three very familiar figures situated on the couch and chairs by the fireplace. My sister’s eyes were on me the moment I set a foot through the portrait hole. I sometimes forgot how strongly connected we are, that we could always sense the presence of the other wherever we were.

The other two quickly followed her gaze when they realised that Kat had abandoned their previous conversation. “Hey mate,” Ron greeted me with a small smile, “Missed you at quidditch practice.” I weakly returned the smile, plopping down on the couch next to my sister with a sigh. She instantly took my injured hand by the wrist, her fast reflexes catching me off guard before I could utter any words of protest. She inspected the writing that was now deeply carved into my hand, wincing as she did so.

“Oh, Harry,” she sighed sympathetically, conjuring up a bowl of essence of murtlap. Either she or Hermione had provided it for me since my first detention with the Toad. I knew that she was silently chiding me for not going to Dumbledore about the method of torture that the clearly mad woman seemed to delight herself in subjecting students to. She held herself back, knowing that she would react in the same way if she were in my position, hell she was already doing this with her dreams, no matter how many times we suggested that she tell the headmaster, or even McGonagall. “Thanks, Kat,” I hissed in pain as I gingerly placed my aching hand into the soothing liquid. “No problem,” she replied with a warm smile, “It’s what I’m here for.”

“So, is Angelina still mad at me?” I asked, feeling the essence of murtlap begin to take of the pain’s edge. “A bit,” replied Kat, “She’ll get over it, especially now that your detentions are finished. She said you have to be on top of your game tomorrow. I said you would be. I know you will.” I nodded with a sigh, hoping that what she said was true. “On a happier note, Ron’s been improving loads!” Kat piped up, her eyes lighting up briefly. Ron smiled sheepishly, “She’s been brilliant mate, Kat’s helped me with everything.” I grinned at my sister, “You ready for the match tomorrow?” Ron’s face dropped as Kat nodded, a large grin forming on her lips, “As always.” I chuckled at her cocky tone. Hermione noticed Ron’s rather worried expression and decided to change the subject for his sake, uttering a few words of encouragement to him before leading us into a conversation about classes and classmates until we headed off to bed for the night.