The clock face glared at me--12:00 am. I gingerly placed the impeccable square of cardboard infront of me and snapped my finger knuckles in preparation.

In slow loops and whirls I scribed a short message on its face. Upon finishing I neatly set the now unnecessary quill back in its place. Its jar. Everything had a place. Wiping my fingers across the board's shining surface I nodded realizing the ink had dried. Picking it up I rose gracefully and strode to the door, mother always said I was so graceful, then down the stairs, humorously surveying the common room's emptiness. Ravenclaws were perhaps the only students on-campus who would be fast asleep in bed at only midnight after winning a Quidditch match--Dreaming in their immaculately made beds of ruins and the great Troll Wars of 1359.

Easily I made my way through the empty space, no fire to guide my path however; surely a conscientious first year had made it a point to put it out before calling it a night at perhaps 9:00 pm. My instincts were far more keenly devised than for such a simple task, however, as maneuvering in between chairs and couches. Before exiting entirely I swept my wand over my body casting a silent disillusion charm. It wouldn't get me past McGonagall or Dumbledore, but it'd be good enough for Filtch—and that's all I needed.

Quickly. I told myself. Again and again. Just quickly. I crossed the castle with relative ease, only getting caught on one moving staircase—though silently cursing it as it surely slowed me down by a good minute; I had to quicken my pace now to get where I needed to be in time. I had a brief run-in with Mrs. Norris. She'll be fine in a day or two.

Past the library, and down the hall, then past the portrait of the woman with grapes, not there, I mused, maybe she's with that knight down the hall…three doors, two doors, and—I checked my watch, 12:15 on the nose. Damn I'm good.

I stood directly in front of the Hospital Wing's doors and silently cast a sticking charm, pasting the sign to my shirt. I knocked on the door five times exactly. No sound from inside. Five more should do the trick. I heard a faint rustling then the distinctive voice of Madam Pomfrey, she was muttering something or another about students, that's all I caught. No matter.

I had to do it. Now or never. I heard her approach. Now or never. I closed my eyes and drew out my wand, I needed precision for this. Curse my heartbeat; if it didn't slow I wouldn't get this right. It has to be done right. One, she was ten steps away, only one chance, two, seven steps, Three. In one fluid motion I guided the cutting-spell quickly over my right shoulder, the arm fell like dull meat out of the robe and hit the ground with a sickening 'thud.' Tears swam down my face as the blood poured from my amputated once-limb, I whimpered, then fell into the pool of blood, I was vaguely aware—though only for a moment, of the young nurse cursing wildly and hoisting me up with a very fast, if I do say so myself, levitation charm. And all I could think in that short moment of conscious was: Damn. Hogwarts is a nice place to live.

But perhaps you'd like me to start at the beginning.

Hello, I'm Cassiopeia Thorpe. I'm a sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And I'm bleeding rather profusely at the moment

--or where you've found me at least, it seems that moment's long gone--or perhaps long to come.

Time's an interesting matter to be sure.

I'm sure we'll figure it out.

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Thanks for reading! It'll make sense soon, don't worry! Also, I'll try to not make Cassie afflicted with the Mary-Sue, I don't really think that will be a problem. Review so I know how you want me to take it!!