MAY 27, 1976

KATHLEEN HAD NEVER FELT SO SMALL, lying on the ground in that Quidditch supplies room. Salty tear stains wove a river each on both her cheeks, her hair was tangled and dirty from the clouds of dust on the hardwood floor, her hands were bruised from the ropes digging into them, and most of all, Kathleen knew her heart would never be the same again.

"Presenting the Slytherin team! Vanity, Talkalot, Craggs, Rowle, Wilkes, Avery, and Black!" said the announcer, and Kathleen flinched at the name Black. 

Black had coaxed out her heart from its shell, and smashed it into a million little pieces. She felt like throwing up every time she thought about how he'd drugged her. Did he truly just use her to open up Gryffindor Tower, or did he use her for something more? A tear leaked out of one eye. But nothing about the love potion in her Gillywater could compared to how he'd slaughtered her best friend in cold blood. He was a monster, and she didn't know whether to rage or to cry.

She hiccuped, and the ropes Talkalot cast pressed tightly against her jugular. Kathleen had to get out. Her wand, which the Slytherins thankfully hadn't taken, lay a few meters away. The hole in the wall (which she'd caused with her Reducio) was on the other side of the room, and big enough to crawl out of if she could just grab her wand and undo her binds. 

Kathleen tensed, using all of her energy to concentrate. And slowly, she clenched her core, heaving her hips and legs forward to where her wand was, in a mostly-empty corner next to a few bottles of broomstick wood-polishing solution. Placing her weight on her legs, she then slammed her torso forwards, accidentally hitting her head and making her see stars. Only four more to go, she thought grimly, and heaved her legs forward again.

Slowly but surely, she inched her way towards her wand, and once she was there, she had to roll onto her face, squeezing her eyes shut to keep the dust from getting in, and grasped a hold of her wand, the familiar oak knot at its base a comfort to her. Sighing, Kathleen twitched the wand to point at her binds, swirling it. 

"Emancipare," she choked, barely squeezing out the incantation, before the binds loosened, vanishing to the ground, and Kathleen wheezed. Her fingers found her neck and began massaging the bruised line on her jugular, as she gasped on the ground for a good two minutes.

Outside, the game was in full swing, with the announcer, a boys' voice that sounded quite young, commentating on how Gryffindor was gaining in points. Kathleen staggered to her hands and knees, knowing that Talkalot's door locking spell was probably going to be hard to break. 

"Engorgio," she whispered, and the hole she blew with her previous spell expanded, shrugging itself big enough for her to crawl through. And crawl she did, narrowly avoiding splinters of hardwood poking from the hole. 

The sunlight pierced her; it had been cloudy when she first came down. A shrill whistle sounded from the Pitch, and Kathleen flinched as if it were a physical blow. Clutching her sore ribs with both arms, she felt on the verge of collapse, but she knew she had to keep going. She was a warrior, and she was a Prewett. Where would she be if she never earned her right to a stone on Mynydd Twr? Kathleen knew what she had to do, and it was to bring Regulus Black to justice.

Summoning all of her energy, she began racing up the steps to the castle, and across the grassy fields. The Hogwarts grounds were virtually empty since people were all at the Quidditch Cup, and unfortunately, it was only after Kathleen stepped inside the castle gates when it occurred to her that Professor McGonagall may be watching the game instead of being inside her office. But Kathleen had already come most of the way into the halls, and there wasn't going back now. If McGonagall wasn't there, she'd go straight to Dumbledore. Or any staff member, for that matter.

Each time she lifted her foot up the stairs, she felt like she was moving mountains. Her chest rattled heavily every time she jolted up a step, and her ribs ached. Everything ached, she was so tired. 

"Professor?" Kathleen coughed as she knocked on McGonagall's office door. "Professor, are you there?"

There was no response. Kathleen swore as she realized she might have to hike back down to the Quidditch Pitch. Why, why did her life turn out like this? Just thinking about Regulus Black made her eyes water, her lip tremble and fear shake her bones. Yes, she was angry at him, but she was scared out of her life, scared that he had toyed with her like that and she'd never noticed, and scared that the boy she loved had killed her best friend. 

Kathleen tried knocking again. "Professor? Professor, are y-"

"-Miss Prewett!" and Kathleen whirled around to see—there she is— Professor McGonagall appear at the end of the hall. "Where in Merlin's name have you been, child?! I have been hunting down the whole castle looking for you."

Before Kathleen could even get a word in, McGonagall had gone and wrapped her in a hug...something McGonagall had never done. And when she pulled away, Kathleen saw that McGonagall's eyes, largely hidden by her spectacles, were also red-rimmed, as if she'd been crying.

"I need to go to Dumbledore's office, Professor," Kathleen said, voice cracking, and McGonagall nodded, as if she understood and somehow already knew what had happened to Kathleen.

"That's where I was coming to take you, child," McGonagall said, placing one hand on Kathleen's shoulder and hastening her back down the hall and up the stairs. "Come, we must hurry."

They walked in silence most of the way, Kathleen content with the knowledge that she'd be giving her findings to Dumbledore and McGonagall at once, but itching with the hurry to get there earlier. She sniffled, wiping away a tear, why couldn't she stop crying, for Merlin's sake? But everytime she closed her eyes, she could see him, standing over her dead body.

They reached the door, with the stone gargoyles guarding Dumbledore's office, and Kathleen turned to speak to McGonagall. "Professor, something terrible has happened, and I don't know what to do-"

"-I know, dear, hush now, Headmaster Dumbledore will take care of you," Professor McGonagall said firmly, and that was when Kathleen thought: What is she talking about?

"Wait- no, I meant Bla-" she began, but was startled when the stone spiral staircase they stood on began rotating and spiralling upwards, and she had to catch her balance. 

"Are you alright, Miss Prewett? This must be an awful day."

"Yeah, it's been bad- wait, how do you know-" Kathleen started, before the gold doors to the Headmaster's office swung open, and McGonagall basically shoved her inside.

Kathleen had never been here before, and stood up a little straighter (wincing at the pain) before she was about to tell the full story. A million portraits lined the walls, mostly silent but with a few chatterers, all of which fell silent as her and McGonagall entered. Briefly taken aback by the beauty of the room, Kathleen also stared.

"Kathleen. Please, sit," said Dumbledore at his desk, and Kathleen sat in front of him. 

"Headmaster, please, I have something urgent," she started, before Dumbledore held up a hand, and inclined his chin at her, long white beard tilting down. His blue eyes glinted through his eyeglasses.

"-I believe you would want to hear this first, my girl," he said seriously, and Kathleen closed her mouth. "Are you aware that Fabian and Gideon Prewett are active members of the resistance?"

"The Order? Yes," Kathleen blinked in surprise. 

"They have been assigned a mission of utmost secrecy, but they have had weekly rendezvous with trusted Aurors of the Order," Dumbledore said gravely, and a deep sense of foreboding pricked at the edge of Kathleen's senses. "I have summoned you today to inform you that opponents of the Order had foiled their plans, and ambushed your brothers, Benjy Fenwick, and Alastor Moody in a surprise attack."

"What?" Kathleen gaped. "W- well, are they hurt, then? How many attackers were there?"

"At least ten. Only Alastor is in stasis as we speak, and he is not conscious either. The attack left three neighborhoods in Liverpool decimated, with six Muggles dead," Dumbledore said sadly.

"I- that's horrible. Wait- what do you mean?" Kathleen began, heart thudding in her chest, its beats growing louder, louder, and louder. "What do you mean, Moody's the only one in stasis? What about Benjy? What about Fab and Gid?"

"Oh, my dear girl," Dumbledore whispered, and a tear leaked out of each of his eyes. "I am terribly sorry to be the one to inform you. Benjy was killed in the initial blast. Both of your brothers duelled their attackers, and they eliminated six of them. But they were defeated, Kathleen. Both of your brothers were killed on the Liverpool Mission."