C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

Chapter one: Better than a letter

A gentle breeze slipped in through the open windows, ruffling the unopened letters on the shelf; greens and yellows danced along the floor as the light hit the coloured glass and the swaying leaves of the tree in front obscured its path. The summer had been an unusually warm one, even on the days where it had rained for hours the sun had always been high in the sky until late in the night. However, as summer was drawing to an end, the days began to grow shorter and clouds were peaking in the periphrasis of the sky more and more frequently. It did not stop the girls from wearing their bright dresses, or the boys from being scolded by the parish priest and told to wear more clothes as they strode topless through the market square.

It had been a lazy summer, but one far more enjoyable than the last. Cassy was not grounded, nor had she been attacked by a one-eyed man with a wooden leg in search of her estranged father. Instead, she had visited her family and seen Neville quite frequently as her uncle Alphard and Neville's grandmother met up for lunch every fortnight. She had exchanged letters with Ginny and Luna, the latter of whom sent her a box of the fruit she grew in her garden. Harry was only ever a mirror-call away.

Her favourite development, she thought as she lingered in the hallway, came in the form of their new neighbour, Eden Fairle. She was a small woman, smaller than even Cassy, with pure white hair and hazel eyes that lit up warmly at the sight of nearly anybody. A kind old woman, perhaps too interested in gossip and slightly nosey, but high-spirited and a very capable cook. Cassy thought she was lovely. Alphard thought she was a nuisance.

Maybe it was because Ms. Fairle had taken a keen interest immediately at the sight of him, or because Alphard had never expressed any interest in dating at all that Cassy took such novelty in their relationship. Her hands were folded behind her back as she leant on the papered wall, smiling as Alphard tried his hardest to appear engaged in the conversation.

Across the hall, a portrait was giving her a pointed look. She waved her hand to shoo her down the hall, but Cassy raised a finger to her lips and further inclined her head towards the doorway.

'I am very glad that I moved in here, the folk are very kind, much more than I expected having lived in the north for so long. I mean, everyone knows everyone back there, my son says they ask after me a lot, but Merlin knows if they really cared to chat I am just a Floo-Call away,' said Ms. Fairle brightly. She spoke oddly, her words elongated in peculiar places as she tried to tame her thick accent.

'There are more muggle communities here than in the north, you should be careful who you say that around or you may have another incident like the other day,' said Alphard curtly.

Maybe, Cassy thought, the reason Alphard disliked her so was because she could be rather stupid. As smart as she seemed to be, she had no great desire to ever watch was she was saying and around who, resulting in a rather large spectacle where she had been called a 'Crazy old bat' by some of the locals and escorted out of the restaurant. It was the moment that she and Alphard met and he had never quite forgiven her for associating with him immediately afterwards.

'Oh, nevermind that. They never use their brains, they won't think anything of it,' she said. Cassy imagined she was waving her hand. 'Anyway, speaking of my son, his son has just got an apprenticeship as an architect in London. He's working under the one who remodelled entrance of the Ministry a few years back? I can't remember his name. Anyway, he's about your niece's age, I thought they might like to meet and chat, or something. I considered inviting him down one weekend before the end of the summer.'

Cassy's eyes widened greatly and she stared at the bannister. The portrait had raised her hand to smother a giggle that could still be heard over the ticking of the grandfather clock farther down the hall.

Alphard took a moment to reply. 'My niece is entering her fourth-year, she is fifteen in November. There is quite a difference between the two.'

'The gap between myself and my former husband was thirteen years, and the one before that was seven,' she said dismissively and Cassy's nose crinkled slightly. She did not wait for Alphard to reply, instead she hopped backwards loudly as if having jumped down the stairs, then walked back down the hall to the doorway, swinging around it with a pleasant smile on her face.

'Good morning, Ms. Fairle,' she said brightly. When Ms. Fairle smiled and greeted her in kind, Cassy looked between her and Alphard. 'I was going to the kitchen and thought I might offer to get you something, if you wish.'

'Oh, yes, a cup of tea, please,' said Ms. Fairle.

As she reached over the collect her cup, Cassy shot Alphard a pointed look, jerking her head to the kitchen quickly. Then, she smiled and took the piece from her, taking Alphard's too and hurrying away. She did not wait to hear was excuse Alphard gave to leave, but he appeared moments later to push the door to.

'Is she trying to marry me off?' asked Cassy in a loud whisper as she filled the kettle. She dropped it down onto the hob with a loud 'clunk'.

'Not exactly, although she does keep making suggestions,' said Alphard calmly. He watched her sneer for a minute as she rinsed out the cups. 'All you have to say is no. I have all ready told her I am unwilling to make decisions on your behalf. She seemed rather surprised at that though. We do have a tradition of arranged marriages.'

'Arranged? You told me they were agreed upon, not arranged,' said Cassy, frowning.

'They were, but it was stressed that they should agree to them for the good of the family. I think Narcissa was one of the only ones to marry out of choice. She refused all suggestions until Lucius asked her himself. Cassy, do not pull that face.'

Cassy's lips had thinned at the thought of her cousin choosing to marry Lucius. 'As long as he loves her,' she said, repeating the same sentence she had used for several years now.

'Anyway, regardless of Eden's grandsons, nephews, or sons, have you actually packed yet?'

'No, but she tried to pair me with her son? How old even is he?' she said in alarm.

Alphard's eyes danced with amusement. 'I would wager older than your father.'

Cassy made a sound from deep at the back of her throat as she removed the purring kettle from the heat.

A strained smile was managed as Cassy placed down the teacups in the living room. Ms. Fairle did not seem to notice and she smiled back just as she did before. Cassy hurried out of the room again, rolling her eyes at Alphard, who was grinning as he slipped by. Hushing the painting once more, Cassy ascended the stairs quickly, navigating the long corridors until she reached her room and shut the door firmly behind her.

'Imagine people trying to marry me off, Crin,' said Cassy to her owl. He looked up at her from his perch with as much enthusiasm for her voice as he ever had before tucking his head back under his wing. 'I would make a dreadful wife!'

The room was large with pale blue walls and tall, dark furniture. The curtains were drawn across the vast Georgian window, only a slither of light peeking through that she promptly corrected with a sharp tug. Books lined the high shelves and pictures and photographs housed in wooden frames ran down from the ceiling to bare floorboards on the wall that the bed was pressed against.

Cassy plucked the open book from the covers. The page was marked and then closed to be stuffed into a small trunk that had emerged from under her bed. She folded and packed only a few things, including her two-way mirror and a sack of papers and coins that she had spent the better part of the previous evening marvelling at and attempting to remember their worth. The muggle currency was peculiar, yet the Goblins at Gringotts had barely batted an eye when she had asked for an exchange.

By the time she had finished packing, Ms. Fairle had left and Alphard had made his way upstairs. He lingered in her doorway, gazing around at the spotless mat and them up to the incredibly cluttered desk where he could just make out the flower of a potted plant sprouting above it all. He sighed, flicking the parchment away and stacking up the books.

'You best be off now,' he said, clapping a hand on Cassy's shoulder.

She strode down the long garden path, turning to wave good-bye to Alphard before he locked the door. Once it clicked shut, she turned to the flowering, yellow bush on her right.

'Still not harbouring a murderer,' she said plainly as she passed.

The bush rustled.

Shaking her head at the stupidity of the Ministry Officials that stalked outside her home from time to time, she pulled out her wand. Holding it up, she waited by the curbside. Then, far away in the distance a low rumbling sounded, drawing closer and closer, until a blur shot up the street and halted very suddenly in front of her.

The chandeliers rattled violently inside and the beds pulled harshly on their tethers. Inside the triple-decker bus was a young man. His face was plastered in spots and he looked out at Cassy lazily, a small card held in his hand. When the purple door opened, he swung on the rail and read, 'Welcome to the Knight Bus, my name is Stan Stunpike and I am you conductor for this afternoon.'

'Crown Close, Bath, please,' said Cassy, stepping on board.

She was quick to perch on the edge of a bed. As soon as the door closed the bus was off, moving rapidly down the streets, turning and winding wildly around the muggle traffic and speeding through every light. The bus itself was empty. Of the three floors, only two people were visible, one asleep – who looked as though he never left the bus – and an old women who had her knitting out.

It took only a few minutes to get from one side of England to the other. The bustling streets faded rapidly as the bus navigated the winding country lanes of the south-west. Rain pattered on the window for seconds, then bright, clear skies shone again as the limestone buildings of Bath city centre emerged. Then, the gears began grinding and Cassy gripped the railing of the bed tightly, the shrunken head near the driver began cackling as the bus jerked violently.

'Crown Close, Bath,' said Stunpike, opening the doors.

Cassy thanked him and the driver. She stepped out onto the path and there was the faintest gust of wind to indicate that the bus had all ready departed. In front of her was a row of houses, each old in character and slightly different from the next. It was not at all like Privet Drive had been. The cars on the driveways were different, some considerably nicer than others, but their gardens were just as trimmed and lovely, if not a bit more so for their differences.

Cassy's head turn. A red door some houses down opened and a bushy-haired girl poked out from within.

'Cassy!' exclaimed Hermione, trotting down the drive as Cassy hurried to meet her. 'How have you been?'

'Fine, thank-you, and yourself?' she replied.

'Never better,' beamed Hermione. 'I'm so glad you could make it. I head a vehicle pull up and looked outside. It's amazing no muggles have ever seen it – a bus that big.'

Cassy grinned and Hermione took her bag from her. Following inside, Cassy took a moment to marvel at Hermione's house. She had never considered that teeth-healers – dentists, Hermione had called them – would earn as much as she imagined half of Hermione's furniture must have costed. It was a large house, open plan with pretty furniture and high ceilings.

'Your house is lovely,' said Cassy.

Hermione blinked at her in surprise. 'I didn't think it would be for your tastes, to be honest. My parents don't have much spare time, running a dentistry together, but they like to go to markets together, it's their hobby. That's where we got most of this.'

Cassy perked up and was about to ask more about the muggle markets when she frowned deeply and halted on the stairs. She stared intensely at the framed picture on the wall. She said, 'That is very strange.'

'What is?' asked Hermione. She flushed when Cassy pointed the the photograph. 'Don't make fun of me, I was only about eight at the time. Everyone had their hair like that at school. I hated it, but my mum thought it would be best if I tried it out.'

It was Cassy's turn to stare in surprise. She shook her head and laughed slightly. 'No, not your hair, the photograph. It is stationary. I have never seen anything quite like it.'

Hermione made a small 'oh' sound and cleared her throat. 'Well, I find your photos very strange. It's like watching a clip of a film.'

Cassy raised her eyebrows, not understanding, but she did not ask. Instead she followed Hermione into her bedroom and before she could begin to inspect, Hermione turned to her with a frown.

'You know we're going to be doing a lot of walking today, don't you? Why would you come in a skirt and shoes like that?'

' "Shoes like that"? There is nothing wrong with these shoes. Besides, what else was I going to wear? I have dresses or skirts,' said Cassy, frowning with equal intensity. She looked down at her flat laced boots.

'You're the epitome of an impractical rich girl right now,' said Hermione with a huff.

Cassy narrowed her eyes.

There was a twinge of pain as pressure pushed down on the back of Cassy's foot. She hissed, shifting the bowl on her lap awkwardly as she bent her foot up onto her other knee to get a better look at the swelling.

'Leave it or you'll make it worse,' said Hermione, waving at her with her spoon. 'This is why you should have worn more practical shoes.'

'This is why you should not have made me walk ten miles in a day. I can barely feel my feet and when I do it is utter pain!' said Cassy.

'I wanted to show you all of my favourite places though,' said Hermione.

'I am here for four days, you could easily have spread that out across it,' stressed Cassy, prodding the blister carefully.

It became apparent very quickly that Cassy and Hermione had different interpretations of what counted as a lot of walking. For Hermione, who had grown up in the rolling hills of the county of Somerset, walking seemed to be no issue. Cassy had expected Hermione to have been cooped up in her bedroom for a majority of her childhood, pooling over books that were five years too advanced and loving every second of being blown away by new findings, not sparing a second glance to the sun outside the window. That was not the case. Instead, she had often gone walking. When things became too much and she simply needed to escape she would take a good book and go wandering off into the hills and sit there for a day while her parents worked, or walk to their office against the wishes of her minder at the time. Hermione had taken full advantage of her surroundings and Cassy could not have been more shocked for it.

Cassy herself had always been an adventurous child. She had loved running and climbing – much to the horror of Narcissa – yet she had never strayed too far. It was simply not to be done and as hard as she pushed she could never stray too far out of the magical community of Canterbury without one of the residents ushering her back inside of her uncle's house.

Hermione shook her head fiercely at Cassy's rebuke. 'The other days are full! I have everything planned out and this is the way it works best. Trust me.'

Cassy squinted. 'You have all of the days planned out. Planned entirely?'

Hermione nodded, scooping another spoonful of ice-cream into her mouth. 'We're going to the museums tomorrow, and another on Sunday, but tomorrow evening we're going to the theatre. I know you've been before, but this would be a good chance for you to see a muggle play. They are different, aren't they? Muggle plays have a lot of variety...'

Cassy slowly turned her head, tuning out Hermione's ramblings as she began to squash her own ice-cream carefully with the spoon. Her eyes drifted back to the silver television on the chest of draws. The screen was small and beneath it was a slot that Hermione explained played videos, although it had taken her a few minutes to explain exactly what a video was to Cassy, who became more lost the more Hermione tried. A video was not playing then though and Hermione kept flicking from channel to channel, despite that Cassy was quite enthralled by whatever was on.

Hermione's room was smaller than Cassy's, but a fair size and considerably less cluttered. She had white furniture and wooden floors, purple walls and a distinct lack of a mirror. There were two bookcases creaking under the weight of all the texts Hermione had piled on the shelves; lined down one side were photographs of herself, Cassy, Harry, Neville and Ginny, along with a single one of her parents that did not move at all.

'Did you want to be a dentist growing up?' asked Cassy suddenly.

Hermione looked thoughtful. 'No, not at all. I don't think I ever did. Before Hogwarts, I wanted to be a lawyer, I'm not so sure now. What about yourself?'

Cassy averted her eyes. Her mouth opened slowly and shut again. Hermione leant sideways towards her, pushing away the bowl on her blanket in interest.

'What, what is it?' she asked. The longer Cassy did not reply the wider her smile became. She was grinning so widely Cassy was worried her face might split by the time Cassy muttered out her answer. Hermione squinted. 'What was that?'

Cassy mumbled again and a sharp jab in her ribs made her speak up. 'I always wanted to be an inventor. I wanted to travel and make things, discover things and sell my creations – stop looking at me like that, it's creepy.'

Hermione's eyes had lit up brightly. She snorted loudly and her head fell back in laughter. 'That's not at all what I expected. That's rather sweet. I thought you would have had a really serious goal, but you were a normal child.'

Cassy huffed. 'I was, but you wanted to be a lawyer. No child wants to be so dull!'

Hermione laughed unabashedly and Cassy rolled her eyes. Beneath the giggling, there was a low hum. Delving her hand beneath the covers that were spread across the floor, Cassy pulled out a small, rectangular mirror. The ice-cream bowl was secured between her knees and her stomach before she flicked it up to eye-level.

'Evening,' she said brightly.

In the mirror, Cassy saw not her own reflection, but that of Harry. His face was only partially lit by a bedside lamp, but it was enough to reveal the extremely messy black-hair and the paleness of his face.

Cassy frowned. 'Are you all right?'

'Yeah,' he said in a breath. 'I just can't sleep.'

'Is that all? You look awful.'

Harry rolled his eyes and gave her a pointed look. It had little effect, his wonky glasses obstructed the seriousness. 'Thanks, Cass. I'll remember to tell you that next time.'

'I am fairly certain you have said that to me before, but really, are you sure you are okay?'

'I had a dream actually,' he said after several moments. 'I woke up because my scar started hurting, it was burning. Voldemort was in my dream too, he killed this man and – and it just hurt.' He reached up to rub his scar as he spoke and Cassy could then see the pink, irritated skin surrounding the lightning bolt. Harry had lay awake for a while.

Before Cassy could say a word, Hermione bumbled into view, pressing firmly against Cassy's shoulder and almost knocking her sideways.

'Oh, Harry, that's terrible!' she exclaimed.

'Hermione?' asked Harry in surprise.

'I wonder if curse-scars can hurt years afterwards, perhaps there is something wrong with it. I'll have to do some reading. I know I have something here somewhere that mentions them,' she said quickly. She disappeared from Harry's sight and Cassy watched her with vague interest as she began pulling out all sorts of books from her shelves.

'Hermione, really, it's fine. Don't bother, I'm not sure people are very familiar with this kind of scar,' said Harry.

'She has gone,' said Cassy, the corners of her mouth turning up. 'She will not hear a word you say until she's done now.'

Harry sighed. 'I was thinking of asking Sirius about it. Maybe writing him a letter.'

'I imagine he might have more of an idea; that sounds like a good plan. I can always think of a way to bring it up with Alphard, if you like. He tends to know curses well, seeing as he works with counter-curse potions frequently,' said Cassy, but Harry shook his head.

'It's probably nothing, there is no reason to worry about it,' he insisted. 'This is why I didn't write to Hermione, I didn't want the fuss, as good as her intentions are.'

Cassy glanced up to watch the other flicking through index and index. Hermione had about a dozen books on the floor and appeared to be sorting them out into two piles; one pile was substantially smaller than the other. Smiling, Cassy looked down at Harry.

'How is your weekend going anyway? I forgot about it entirely. I wouldn't have rang if I knew-'

'Don't be stupid,' said Cassy sharply. 'You can call whenever you like. It would not matter where I was. Besides, after how much walking I have done today anything to take my mind off it is a welcomed reprieve.'

'She did say you'd be walking far,' he said, grinning.

Cassy raised her eyebrows high into her hairline. 'Oh, she did, did she? Well, it is nice of her to tell you that and not me. I am in agony. You should have told me.'

'Oh, so it is my fault now?' said Harry.

'Yes. Take responsibility.'

Harry laughed. His hand rose to smother his mouth and he looked towards where Cassy thought the door of his bedroom was. Grinning, he shrugged, as if there was nothing he possible could have done.

Cassy leant towards her trunk and stuck her hand through the small gap, pulling it back out with a brown, leather boot in hand. She held it up for Harry to see and said, 'I had to buy some walking boots because the ones I came with were clearly not made for long-distance. Muggle shops are very informal, I thought it was very odd until I found one where they greet you at the door.'

'The expensive shops, Harry. She would only go in the really, really expensive ones,' called Hermione from her circle of textbooks.

Cassy shook her head and Harry laughed again. 'She keeps saying that, but they were good value really. They are made to last, you know.'

'Sure,' said Hermione distantly. She smiled behind the pages as Cassy pulled a face.

'While we were there she also insisted I buy trousers,' said Cassy. 'Some jeans were so tight that I could barely bend my knees.'

'You know you can buy non-skinny jeans, right,' said Harry.

'Yes, but I don't like them. Actually, on the topic of things I dislike, the bird my farther sent with my last letter was ridiculous. It knocked over everything, cried the entire time it was in the house and moulted everywhere!'

'The big red one?' asked Harry. 'It was at my window for a bit, but went when I untied my letter. The Dursley's were mortified. The pulled up in the car while it was just sitting there.'

Cassy scrunched up her nose. 'You can have it next time. It was huge.'

'I don't want it,' he replied indignantly.

'Well neither do I and it is your turn,' she said with finality. 'My letter did not say much beyond that they have settled down somewhere hot and that Remus is keeping him informed about the goings-on in Britain for the time being. There was a small complaint that it took him a long time to decipher my short-hand.'

'Reading your notes is like looking into the Sun, there's no sense in doing so what-so-ever.'

'Oh? Well, I will remember that when you ask for them next time.'

'I'll just ask for Hermione's,' he said with a shrug. 'I'll write tonight. I'm hoping it won't take as long for him to reply if he's settled somewhere.'

The intervals between Sirius' letters had never been particularly short. However, they stretched and grew over the summer as he moved further south. They picked up briefly when Remus met with him at last, but between the two of them, Cassy and Harry could not imagine what they were doing with their time. It was unlikely that Remus had found employment and depending on where they were, it was likely that Sirius still faced being recognised and so could not transform from Blackjack at all. None the less, the pair waited eagerly to hear from them; even Cassy's interest had risen since she had spent more time talking to her father, however brief.

'I do wonder though,' said Harry and Cassy looked at him curiously, 'about the meaning of the dream. It felt so real and I just...'

Hermione stood from her little circle with a thick book tucked under her arm. She threw herself down next to Cassy and plucked the mirror from her hands. Opening the book, Hermione held the mirror in one hand and smiled as she read out a little passage to him.

Cassy glanced back at the television, half-listening to their conversation. She knew what it probably said, she also knew it was likely for the wrong type of curse-scar. Harry's was different. He was the only one in the world, living and past, to have ever survived the Avada Kerdava curse. There was no book that would reassure him fully, but she heard Hermione's small laugh and could imagine Harry was smiling back at her, even though he did not really feel it.

The people on the television laughed and Cassy took another spoonful of her much melted ice-cream. 'Watching programs like this makes me think that Voldemort might be on to something sometimes.'

In one swift motion, Hermione had lunged for the remote and Cassy had dived for the mirror. She pulled it safely back just as the television turned black.

'That's enough of that for you today. I'll remember never to let you watch late-night chat shows again,' said Hermione.

Cassy grinned, then looked down at Harry. 'Try not to think about it too much. Write the letter and then wait for the reply. How would Voldemort have even returned? Just think about the Quidditch World Cup we are going to soon. All of the Weasley's will be there and it will be great. Think about that rather than your dream.'

'We're fairly lucky to have you to thank for that,' said Harry with a beaming smile.

There was an acknowledged advantage to having powerful family members and one of those advantages was knowing someone who knew where to get tickets prior to their release date. Lucius had made the mistake of telling Draco, who had told Cassy, who had told Neville, Harry, and Hermione, who had all brought tickets a week early. It meant that there was no mad scramble for seats and places, and it was made all the better by Ginny's excited announcement that the Weasley's had won the Daily Prophet draw and won free ones too. Cassy was just relieved not to spend the day with Lucius. Neville was pleased because it meant his friends would not have to meet his strange uncle who had hung him out the window as a child.

Cassy winked at him. The part she was most looking forward too was when the Weasley's went to pick Harry up for the game. Fred and George had sent her many letters depicting how they wanted it to go, only she had yet to tell Harry any of it.

Yay, first chapter of C. : Skin of a Dragon! It's slightly longer than I normally aim for in an opening chapter, but I wanted to introduce a few subtle themes and the Quidditch cup. Some of the things may not be obvious, but they're not supposed to be, yet I hope you don't think the chapter was a massive waste of time.

I chose Crown Close as a dentist joke about crown fittings and because I needed to make up a street. Bath is supposed to be cultured and I thought it would be a good place to stick Hermione's home. I like the idea of her growing up as a big fish in a little pond too, so that is why I chose the edge with the countryside rather than a city centre. I am not entirely sure where she actually lived of if it had been revealed post-book.

The next chapter is almost like a filler too, but it has character development and I think is needed to further the friendships that all ready exist.

I hope you'll stick with me through this year as much as people have done with me previously. It means a lot to me to know people still enjoy this almost two years on.

Thanks!