Full Summary: Fourteen years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the Ministry has deemed it necessary to expand the Muggle Studies for a more comprehensive curriculum. Teachers from across the globe and from every magical background are now assembling for an explosive year. What could possibly go wrong?
*A/N: Hello readers! Thank you so much for checking out this story. I've had so much fun writing and I hope you all have just as much fun reading it. This is my first fanfiction, but definitely not my first project. I look forward to any reviews and constructive criticism you may have for me. Thanks for everything and I can't wait to see what you all think. Enjoy!*
**Disclaimer: I do not own anything affiliated with Harry Potter. All original names and characters belong to J.K. Rowling. I do, however, own all OC's. **
Chapter 1
"Damn it! Not my new Vendees," Cassandra cursed as she worked her heel out of the dusty grate. The train was already belching white clouds of steam, preparing to disembark from the crowded platform as she and her roommate, Frederico, raced across the stone deck. "You stupid train, you can't leave yet!" Cassandra bellowed as the sparkling red engine pulled out of the crowded Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Not only had she endured Hell at the LAX security desk for her metal-heeled Pradas, now she was missing the famous Hogwarts Express. Cassandra groaned at the thought.
Brushing off her sequined shirt, Cassandra began retreating to the back wall. A bone shattering SNAP echoed throughout the train station. Cassandra tumbled to the ground, what remained of her shoe still protruding from the grate. Frederico gasped and stooped next to his friend and roommate, concern ruining his feminine features. Cassandra laughed.
"Frederico, it's fine. I'm al-." But Frederico wasn't paying attention. He sat hunched over at Cassandra's feet, cradling her broken shoe.
"It's alright, little one," he whispered, "I'm here for you."
The man continued to murmur sweet nothings as Cassandra watched from afar. Annoyed, she interrupted in a mocking tone, "Oh Cassie, are you alright? Why yes, I am Fred. Thanks for asking." The man shot her a look of extreme indignation.
"You know I hate that name."
Cassandra smirked. "It got your attention, didn't it?" Ripping her leg free, she straightened herself, and watched as the tail end of the train disappeared behind a distant slope. "Well, that plan was a bust. Guess it's time to bring out the big guns." Rummaging through her purse, Cassandra pulled out a ball of beige fluff that slumped over the sides of her palm. "Mr. Twisty, I need you. It's time to wake up," she cooed, gently poking the strange mass. The fur ball quivered and stretched, revealing a small pink nose, whiskers and beady red eyes.
"Agh! What is that… thing?" Frederico yelped. Cassandra gave him a stern look.
"His name is Mr. Twisty… and he's not a thing, he's a Kelpie; a shape shifter. I caught him back in my Stanford days when I was on vacation. Isn't he cute?" She shoved the creature into her friend's face.
Frederico squirmed. "You keep a rat in your purse?"
"Hamster," Cassandra corrected. "And he's a shape-shifter, so he could be anything. Quite frankly, I'm surprised he's stayed like this for so long."
"Okay," Frederico sighed, "I'm aware that you already introduced me to this magical world of yours almost two years ago, but you can't just whip out weird magic rats without warning me! This big heart of mine won't last much longer if you keep doing that."
"Hamster…he's a hamster," she reiterated with an unnervingly straight face. "And the only reason I told you I was a witch was because you were such a fan of that wizard series. What was it called…Larry Piper or something?"
"Perry Popper."
"Yeah, that one. I thought you might be a little more excited for the surprises. And from what I've read, they sound like they were based off the life of that Harry Potter kid from a decade or so ago. Stupid title though. Harry Potter was a much better name."
With a huff, Frederico shot up and stormed off, yelling, "You magic people have to ruin everything for us 'Muggles'!" Cassandra shook her head full of dark red curls.
"Cross dressers are so dramatic," she sighed. Muttering a quick Reparo on her shoe, Cassandra grabbed her purse and took off after her Muggle friend. "Wait up Fred! Mr. Twisty's going to take us to Hogwarts!"
"This is not what I had in mind!" Frederico shouted over the wind. "Couldn't he turn into a private jet or something? My hair was not made for high speed travel!"
"No!" Cassandra yelled behind her. "Kelpies can only copy organic shapes!" She paused. "I guess we could have settled for a Granian instead."
"A what?"
"A Granian! It's one of the fastest winged horses in the- Agh!" Cassandra gasped for air, her lungs all but flattened by Frederico's strong hold.
"How is that better than this monstrosity?"
"What monstrosity?" Cassandra wheezed. "It's just Mr. Twisty, right boy?" The creature beneath them roared with seeming approval.
The man behind her huffed in frustration, "I still don't understand how that morbidly obese hamster- with fabulous coloring- changed into this ugly flying lizard."
"Oh quit your whining!" Cassandra snapped. "Look," she pointed to the horizon, "there's the castle!"
Frederico peaked past her shoulder. "Where? All I see is old ruins." Cassandra shook her head again and, with a wave of her wand, dispelled the powerful illusion. "Oh my," the man gasped, "I see it now."
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry soared above the Scottish plain like a dark mountain; its round towers disappearing through the thick grey clouds above. Small windows along the exterior glinted in the minimal sunlight, appearing as tiny fairies on a midsummer morning. The enormous lake below sat completely still, somewhat inviting with its calm appearance, but Cassandra knew far too well what dwelled in those waters to be fooled.
Nearing the castle, Mr. Twisty banked into a slow descent, careful to avoid any nearby trees. With a soft thud, the trio landed on a stone rampart. Apart from themselves, the walkways were completely empty. Even the ghosts were absent from their usual haunts.
"Good job, Mr. Twisty. You're safe now," Cassandra whispered, patting the dragon's boney face. Mr. Twisty purred before slithering off to glide across the expansive fields.
"What's his rush, girlfriend?" Frederico asked, clearly perturbed. Cassandra couldn't help but laugh.
"He's probably off to hunt. We did make him fly an awful long way. I just feel bad for the poor sap that falls for his tricks." Cassandra pursed her lips and shook her head, her red curls bouncing from side to side. "Now it doesn't look like the students have arrived yet, so we might have some extra time." She shook her hair again.
"You know when you do that you like Shirley Temple, right?"
"Do what? This?" Cassandra bobbed her head again.
"Yeah, that. It makes you look like a five year old. No wonder your boyfriend broke up with you. He must have felt like he was bangin' a baby."
Cassandra stood in shock. "Derek and I never slept together!" Frederico chuckled.
"And look at what you missed. But don't worry, girl. He was totes fab. I learned so much that night." Frederico sauntered off with new vigor, leaving Cassandra dumbfounded and spluttering.
Realizing he was going to leave her behind, the redhead slapped her face, grabbed her purse and sped down the stone walkway. "You may have learned your way around my ex," Cassandra snorted, "but I'm the master when it comes to castles."
"Okay girl, how the hell did we end up here?" Frederico yelped. His question echoed through the atrium like an obnoxious poltergeist, setting Cassandra's nerves on edge.
"I know where I'm going," she retorted, but the frustration was evident in her flushed cheeks. Cassandra had no idea where the Great Hall was, at least not from the Northeastern tower. In America, all you had to do was press a button inside what Muggles might call a teleportation pad and Bam; you'd be there. American wizards had never liked the idea of staying in the "Dark Ages", but preferred to have more fun with the Muggles' science-fiction ideas… and the whole system was just more convenient.
Now, however, Cassandra found herself lost and confused in a new castle with so many twists, turns, hidden passageways and dead ends that even a veteran of this place could find themselves lost. "I guess there's no other way," she sighed. Swallowing her pride, Cassandra called out to the many paintings that adorned the walls. Perhaps one of them would be willing to help.
Within moments, a younger looking wizard with short brown hair and an incredibly small nose strolled into an empty painting of someone's rose garden.
"Can I help you?" the boy asked; the way he whispered making Cassandra feel as though she were in a library.
"Uh, yes," she spluttered. "Could you tell us how to get to the Great Hall? We might be a bit lost," Cassandra pinched her fingers, emphasizing her point.
The wizard in the painting barked with sudden laughter. "I'd gather you're a bit more than that, sweetheart!" He curled over in a fit of hysterical laughter, banging the painted stone bench next to him.
Cassandra huffed. Obviously they weren't getting anything out of this guy. "C'mon," she grabbed the collar of Frederico's green fur vest, "maybe we can find someone more helpful."
The duo marched through the branching hallway, each empty frame they passed only fueling Cassandra's frustrations. Only after wandering through several more corridors did she notice another moving painting, this time of a large brown weasel.
"Agh!" Frederico shrieked, "what's with this magic world and huge rats?"
Cassandra rolled her eyes. "It's a weasel, Fred. Quit embarrassing yourself." She leaned in for a closer look. "She's definitely enchanted… or at least the original was. Maybe she can actually help us." The painting snuffled across her bed of rocks, probably looking for food. "Can you help us find the Great Hall?" The weasel peered up at Cassandra with big black eyes, her long whiskers twitching as a tiny black nose sniffed whatever air could be in enchanted paintings. Without warning, the weasel bounded off down the hall, leaping through the ornate and empty frames.
"Damn! That rat is fast," Frederico panted, already regretting his choice of heels. He stumbled as Cassandra jerked him forward.
"Quit your whining!" Cassandra demanded. "She's probably mad that you keep calling her a rat. Now move!" She yanked Frederico harder as the weasel disappeared around another corner. Afraid to lose their only lead, Cassandra yelled out "Forget you, Muggle," and released her slow friend, sprinting after the small mammal. "Great Hall, here I come!"
"You bitch! How could you? Wait for me!" Frederico yelled. Despite his obvious anger, the man was silently grateful for his freedom from Cassandra's iron grip. His legs and feet were already throbbing. "Damn, that witch can move," he sighed, tugging off his shoes and racing after her. "But at least my legs will look great after all of this running."
"Looks like they've finally made it," Avina sighed as she stared out of the fogging window. As if on cue, a bright red steam engine appeared from behind a gently rolling hill, the squeal of its brakes all but announcing its arrival as it entered the rustic station. With one final belch of steam, the engine skidded to a halt inside the wooden platforms. In a massive wave, the deck was covered with countless black-robed and eager bodies, their energy overwhelming even to Avina as she watched from the top of one of the castle towers.
"What have I gotten myself into, Risto?" the brunette moaned. Out of the corner of the room came a shadow, not a slim shadow like Avina's, but a hulking brute of a creature. Its outline showed bristled hairs over bulging arms and hindquarters and massive jaws that protruded from a broad, shovel-like head, all of which stood over eight feet tall.
Risto huffed and in a gravelly voice replied, "You were not aware of the situation, Mistress? I find that hard to believe. You were put through extensive training before being offered the position, were you not?"
"Yes, the Ministry was extremely thorough," Avina snorted, "but they seem to forget that I can't do magic! My parents were born with the talent, but I was left out to dry! How am I supposed to teach these kids magic when even I don't know it?" Risto chuckled.
"That is why I am here, Mistress. I was assigned to you to act as a magical medium. It will be as if you were born with the strongest of talents. None of the students will suspect a thing. Besides," he hesitated, "your main focus will be in the new Muggle Studies department. You are only required to teach one wizarding class."
"Thank God for that." Avina turned to peer out the stained-glass window once more. Down below, the few remaining stragglers made their way into the castle. Avina huffed, swung her feet off the ledge and picked up the professor cloak assigned to her. "C'mon boy, it looks like it's time for dinner."
Risto grumbled as the woman slammed the door behind her. "I might supply her magic, but a lesson in manners is most definitely in order." With one more grunt, he slipped through the doorframe and fell into place beside his latest assignment.
The Great Hall was buzzing with excitement as the long line of first years was led down the center aisle. Avina chuckled at the awestruck wonder found in many of the children's faces and remembered her first time setting eyes on the majestic hall. It was only two months ago when Avina received her first invitation from the Ministry to teach at the legendary school.
After the fiasco that accompanied Voldemort's demise, the Ministry and all of the wizarding schools thought it best to put into place new programs to ensure a more well-rounded education to all future witches and wizards. The program would expand the Muggle Studies class into an entire department all its own and would be required for each student's education. Experts in Muggle behaviors and customs were to be brought in from across the globe so as to teach magical students proper Muggle integration skills. In order to provide the best instruction, the schools were also required to hire a variety of professors, from the most magically talented to the least.
When Avina found her own letter, she was appalled. Just completing the Ministry's crash course in magic studies, she was all but flustered with the idea that someone like her might be teaching magical students at all. Yet with a touch of Floo powder, Avina stood in the Great Hall in its entire splendor. A new sense of dread had overwhelmed her at the sight. She could only imagine what it must be like for the children who had only heard of it through stories and rumors.
As the children gathered at the base of the stage, a wooden stool was placed at the center of the platform, a worn and tattered wizard hat sitting upon it. A tall, chestnut-haired woman in deep blue robes came to stand before the students. She bore a cheerful smile like a proud mother watching her children. By the sudden quiet, one could only assume the woman's gentle countenance had a relaxing effect on the children.
"Welcome back to a new year at Hogwarts!" the woman spoke. "The faculty and I are very happy to see your bright and shining faces again. And for our first years," she peered down to the students in front of her, "I'd like to give a very special welcome. We at Hogwarts are very excited to see you here."
From the Professor's Table, Avina couldn't help but let a smirk slip through her stony exterior. The irony of Professor Irving giving the welcome speech nearly overcame her. That woman was one of the worst people at the school. Being a pureblood, she sauntered around like she owned the place and would always look down her nose at half-bloods and Muggle-borns. Avina quietly shuddered with what Irving might do if she ever discovered the presence of a magical-born Muggle in her presence.
A roaring applause swept the Great Hall and tore Avina from her thoughts.
"Now," Irving bellowed, "let the Sorting begin!" One by one, each young wizard was sorted into their respective houses, a roar of whoops and hollers echoing through the hall with every assignment.
Despite her lack of interest, one wizard caught Avina's attention about halfway through the ceremony. He was a small kid-no taller than her shoulders- and his strawberry blonde hair shot out in every direction like he'd just been electrocuted. Who's that kid? Avina wondered to herself.
A gravelly voice echoed from the back of her mind. That would be Kazeran Finesstra. A Muggle-born, if I'm not mistaken.
Avina blinked in surprise. So this is how we talk when others are around us? I wish I'd known that sooner. These past two months would have been so much easier!
I do wish you would focus more, Mistress.
Right. Avina paused. So how did you know the kid's name? Have you been doing some snooping for me? The woman was met with silence. Risto, she whispered, you still there?
A piercing howl erupted from the stillness, racking Avina's consciousness with an overwhelming sense of frustration. The professors around her shot her looks of both concern and disgust. Avina merely smiled and waved away their concerns, hoping they would ignore her minor convulsions.
No, I refuse to snoop, Mistress! I am far above such menial tasks. Perhaps if you PAID ATTENTION LIKE A LADY, he huffed, you wouldn't need me to snoop around for someone whose name was just called moments before you asked! By the silence that followed, Avina assumed Risto had finally scurried back to wherever he had emerged.
"Well, he certainly isn't in a good mood," she snorted.
I heard that.
Avina jumped in her chair. "Damn."
Language Mistress. Avina rolled her eyes.
"Whatever," she muttered.
The duo's silence was quickly interrupted by more cheers. It seemed that the Kazeran kid had been sorted into Hufflepuff, a fact for which Avina should probably have been more excited. In truth, Avina had also been sorted into Hufflepuff upon her early arrival; she had not been happy about it to say the least.
When she had learned of Headmistress McGonagall's request for all new teachers to be sorted, Avina was perturbed. Not only was she a Muggle, but now she would be forced to uphold a house's rules and expectations. Having to choose, Avina would have hoped to be placed in Ravenclaw, a house where her intelligence and quick wit might shine. Instead, she was thrown into a house of overly friendly badgers with no hope of retaining any dignifying reputation. It was only after another thorough scolding from Risto that she came to terms with the Sorting Hat's bizarre decision.
As Avina grew more engrossed in her thoughts, the Sorting came to a close and Headmistress McGonagall rose from her place at the Professors' table. "Welcome students," she began, "I'm very pleased to see all of your bright faces as we begin another term. Before we eat, I would like to introduce a few new members to our faculty." McGonagall gestured to her right and began reciting names, "Robert Grieves: Muggle Engineering, Architecture and History of Magic."
A tall man in his thirties stood and addressed the crowd with a small wave before sitting once more. McGonagall smiled and then carried on with her mental list. "Avina Amadori: Charms and Muggle Marketing and Psychology." Applause resounded through the massive hall.
Avina! Get your head out of the clouds! You're up, Risto shouted out of the deep recesses of Avina's mind. Startled, the woman jumped from her seat, knocking over empty goblets and plates. The ringing of the utensils echoed awkwardly through the hall until McGonagall decided to continue.
"Thank you, Professor," the headmistress said, a small sneer the only sign of her annoyance. Avina smiled timidly and plunked back into her seat, the weight of hundreds of eyes nearly forcing her into the ground.
How… sad, Risto murmured from his dark corner.
Oh shut up! Avina mentally shouted. Aren't you supposed to be paying attention for me? Risto grunted. Fine. Whatever.
As McGonagall went through her mental checklist, an unusual commotion erupted from one of the side corridors. Every head snapped around to see what was happening. A moment later, a woman with a head full of auburn curls crashed through the wooden doors. Her sequined shirt, high-waist shorts and high heels were in stark contrast to the sea of black that filled each of the five long tables. After several uncomfortable seconds, the woman collapsed to her knees, completely out of breath and obviously flustered.
When the woman had finally caught her breath she gazed around the room. A goofy grin soon spread across her flawless porcelain skin.
"Yes! I made it!" she shouted, startling the faculty and those Slytherin students closest to her. "Thank the weasel!"
This woman is completely mad, Avina thought. "I really hope she's not that new American professor everyone's been squabbling about."
You're a new professor from America as well, Avina, Risto coolly reminded her.
"Yeah, but I'm not crazy," Avina hissed. Several of her colleagues tore their eyes from the newcomer, only to stare at her with indignation. "Sorry," she quickly mouthed. Their gazes returned to the mental woman as she made her way to an empty place at the professors' table.
Oh god, Avina moaned. It is her! As if she wasn't worried enough, another odd character came crashing through the corridor.
Avina couldn't tell if it was male or female. Judging from the heels in its hand, the lime green fur vest and long, silky black hair, Avina would assume it was female. Everything from how she carried herself to the way she tried to primp in the middle of a crowd pointed to woman.
The face, however, made her second guess herself. There was just something about it that quietly screamed 'Man'. Perhaps it was the strong jaw line that graced everyone with its perfection or even the piercing brown eyes that could swallow your soul in an instant. Whatever it was, it left Avina in a trance.
"You little bitch! You just left me for a rat. How could you?" the second stranger screeched. Avina was lurched from her stupor, only to notice how the first woman simply ignored the comment and went on as if nothing had happened.
The two bumbling idiots had both taken a place at the professor table while most students stared in shock. Some, Avina noticed, were starting to drool over the newcomers, although she couldn't be sure which.
"So glad you could join us… professors," McGonagall sneered. If Avina thought her silent warning was bad, it was nothing compared to what the headmistress was giving the new arrivals. Just McGonagall's look sent chills down Avina's spine. "As I was saying," McGonagall continued, "Cassandra Mossborough will be teaching Muggle Sociology, Entertainment History and Potions."
The first woman jumped up from her seat, eagerly waving to the students with freshly manicured nails. Several of the sixth and seventh years waved back, obviously infatuated with her voluptuous curves, long slender legs, and perfect face.
Avina's own face scrunched in disdain. This Cassandra woman was unreal. McGonagall must have been drunk when she hired her. There was no way Miss Mossborough would survive in this school of magic.
I'd give them a month, Risto growled. Avina smiled at the thought.
I'd give it a week.
"And last but not least," McGonagall went on, "may I introduce Frederico Townsend. The woman- or perhaps, man- stood with the smile of an excited three year old and waved to the crowd. Uneasiness began to settle in the hall as students and teachers alike tried to make sense of the strange creature. McGonagall put an end to the murmurs with a quick flick of her wrist.
"Professor Townsend will be assisting Professor Mossborough with her curriculum. Now that the last of our faculty has decided to join us, let us finish the sorting, shall we?" A wave of whispers and gasps filled the Great Hall as the Sorting Hat was once more placed center stage.
"This ought to be good," Avina snickered. Surely such a pair would end up in Hufflepuff with the other leftover students. There was no way that either professor could be taken seriously. Avina watched with sadistic eyes as Cassandra was called to the front. It was obvious the woman was already confident and being in front of a crowd only seemed to bolster her courage. Avina found it annoying and hoped with all of her might that the obnoxious witch would be stuck in her least favorite house, whichever that was.
Cassandra sat quietly on the stool as Professor Irving went to place the ancient hat over her flaming curls. The hat had barely touched a single hair before shouting, "SLYTHERIN!" Cassandra leapt to her feet and shrieked in excitement. The Slytherin table erupted- it was mostly male applause as many of the girls sat quietly with contempt on their faces. Many other voices could be heard across the room, asking things like "what?" and "how is that possible?" Frankly, Avina couldn't blame the students for their shock; her jaw was also hanging in astonishment.
How did that little vixen get into Slytherin? Avina thought. And so easily too! The Sorting Hat didn't even have to think about it. It took that stupid thing almost an hour to choose where he wanted me. What the hell? That woman does not belong in Slytherin, I can tell you that right now!
Easy Mistress, growled Risto. The Sorting Hat has the minds of this school's four finest wizards and witches. Obviously there is a reason for its decision. Now please be a lady and at least look excited.
"Ugh, fine," Avina groaned. "I'll behave. Let's see what the four greatest sorcerers can make of this buffoon. She pointed to the strange Townsend character that now sat, giddy, on the stool.
As Irving went to place the old hat on Professor Townsend's head, a high-pitched squeal tore through the quiet. The woman... thing jumped off the stool and very nearly growled her disapproval.
"Oh no!" she announced. "There is no way you are putting that nasty old thing on my fabulous hair. I just fixed it!" Cassandra could be seen rolling her eyes as if this were a normal thing.
McGonagall quickly grew tired of the persistent whining. "Professor, if you do not wish to be sorted, that is fine by all of us. You will simply go houseless with no access to the faculty dorms and no right to teach. I can have you helping clean the castle with the house elves." Townsend was now cowering under McGonagall's fearsome stare. "Would that be better than the hat?"
"Uh, uh no ma'am," Townsend stuttered. "Give me that thing," she said, ripping the magical hat from Irving's hands. The new professor cringed as the hat curled and twisted around its new perch, deliberating for several minutes before coming to a decision. "I've got it," it finally announced. "HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hufflepuff table half-heartedly cheered as the oddball Townsend crept back to her chair, needlessly fixing her hair the whole way. The hat was then removed and McGonagall took her place behind the podium once more.
"Now that that is settled, let us eat." With a clap of her hands, food and drink instantly appeared on every table in mountainous heaps. Everything from bread pudding to stuffed pig would fill every belly tonight. And while the food relaxed Avina's nerves, she still found herself cringing behind a mask of excitement. She couldn't believe she would have to share a house with this idiot Townsend; and Hufflepuff to boot. I'm doomed, she thought, rightly and truly doomed.
The welcome feast had gone over smoothly and now every student was being guided back to his or her respective dormitory. Cassandra and her fellow colleagues would be spending the year in their own tower, each with their own room, but with only a single common area. That didn't bother Cassandra too much as she was used to the whole 'roommate' lifestyle; and if she could survive rooming with Frederico for two years, she was sure she could survive living with mentally sane teachers.
As for her own room, it had been decorated in the traditional Slytherin colors. Emerald green curtains hung in front of massive balcony windows while silver chandeliers cast light across the stone floors. Even her queen-sized, four-poster bed displayed house pride with its green hangings and comforter. Cassandra couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship that went into the mahogany bed frame, whether by magic or hand.
A warm fire roared in its stone hearth and called to Cassandra as she examined her personal library. Pulling a book from the shelf, Cassandra gladly gave in to the fire's warm embrace and curled up in one of the dark leather armchairs. As she read, the woman noticed light snoring beyond her inner door. "Oh Fred," she sighed.
Cassandra had specifically requested that she and Fred live next to each other during their time at Hogwarts. It wasn't that she thought he couldn't take care of himself… okay, that was part of it, but she also didn't want to have to scour the castle looking for him whenever he would sleepwalk. It wasn't usually a problem, but it soon could be.
After dinner, both friends had helped each other unpack and organize the others' things. The other professors had offered to help, especially the now famous Neville Longbottom, but Cassandra and Fred would have none of it. They enjoyed their privacy and didn't want to get too friendly too soon; better to know who you could trust before actually putting your faith in them after all. Now, both friends were settled in and ready for their next adventure.
"Those kids better baton down their hatches," Cassandra giggled as she turned a page, "because Hurricane Cassie has finally arrived!"
*A/N: So what did you think? Good? Bad? Please let me know so I can continue to improve my writing. Thanks so much!