C. M. Black: Skin of a Dragon

Chapter III: The Weasley's Burrow

A tall stone building stood some distance away, crooked and leaning, very much giving the impression it should fall at the slightest breeze. It stood fast as the summer wind blew, with one of the four or five chimneys softly wheezing. Underneath the low-set windows was a chicken coop, although most of them were wandering down the path, squawking at the sight of the gnomes peeking out of the bushes.

From the front of the house, a large orchard was visible. Bright fruit hung from the branches. Beyond that were tall trees, nestling the house in solitude with only a long pathway leading up to the country lane. There were some small stone buildings and a particularly rickety looking one that was attached to the house; little bulbs and tools hung in the windows. A little sign leading up to it read 'The Burrow'.

Cassy looked at the house in great fascination. She had never seen anything quite like it, being used to grand houses. Even the oddness of the muggle houses she had visited were not quite as peculiar as the home of the Weasleys. From the end of the path with a bag on her back, she took in the rickety windows and bending drainpipe, slowly stopping at the door that was split in two with the top half pulled open.

'Are you listening at all, Cassiopeia?' said Alphard flatly.

'Yes,' said Cassy. 'Go to the gate on the far left side – the West Gate – if there is any trouble at all. I have to get someone to contact you. I should refrain from parting from my group, and am to keep my money and not bet. Is that all, Uncle?'

She turned and peered at him. He stared back with eyes as flat as his voice. He shook his head slightly. 'Enjoy yourself, but remember what I said.'

'You don't have to go over safety with me. I will not get into trouble.' Cassy almost felt irritated by the startled expression on Alphard's face. Instead, she scrunched her nose and put her hands on her hips. 'More or less.'

'More and more,' muttered Alphard. 'I am trying to prepare the world for when you are let loose on it. I feel as if I am fighting a losing battle.'

Cassy shoved his shoulder.

There was a short shout followed by a cheerful laugh. The door opened fully and a curly haired woman bustled out of the house. Mrs Weasley wiped her hands on her apron as she made her way down the path in her slippers. Her arms were spread wide and Cassy suddenly had the sinking feeling she could not escape the impending hug that was sure to leave her aching for an hour. Smiling, Cassy greeted her from a distance, before she was wrapped in the plump woman's grip, seemingly only having increased her enthusiasm.

'Cassy, dear,' said Mrs Weasley brightly, 'it's so good to see you again. How are you?'

'Fine, thank-you, Mrs Weasley,' said Cassy, moving back to Alphard's side. 'And yourself?'

'Never better, dear,' she said.

Alphard moved forward, nodding his head and greeted her politely. Mrs Weasley smiled with a warmth that Cassy had not expected and she insisted Alphard came in for a cup of tea. He refused, but she waved him towards the house anyway and in his thinly veiled curiosity of all his niece's friends' parents he relented.

'Quickly, I suppose. It would be pleasant to have one before work,' he said.

'Oh, good,' said Mrs Weasley. 'Arthur will be back soon too. Oh, Cassy? They're down by the orchard, just over that fence if you want to go and take a look.'

Cassy smiled and waved her hand at Alphard. She skirted around the house, minding the flowering bushes, particularly the ones that rustled. The back of the house was much like the front, with the exception of a troop of muddy Wellington boots by the door and a thin trodden path that could only have been beaten from the many feet of the seven children that had grown up there. It lead down through the thick trees and straight to the smaller blooming ones she had seen from the gate. Even from a distance, Ginny's hair caught her eye from amongst the branches and Cassy grinned.

'Cassy!' cheered Ginny, skidding to a stop in front of her. 'When did you get here?'

'Just now. Your mother had wrangled Alphard in for a cup of tea,' she said.

'She does that. She likes to get to know everyone. It's kind of embarrassing, really.'

Cassy just smiled. Alphard did to, as much as he disliked people as a whole. There was rarely anyone that Cassy met in her childhood that Alphard was not acquainted with in some way. It was useful and Cassy found herself trying to do the same, but she had yet to build the kind of memory store Alphard was capable of. He just seemed to retain almost everything.

Ginny lead Cassy a bit farther down towards an open paddock. High in the sky was Ron and then some distance closer to the ground was Dean, who looked like he would much rather have his feet on the ground.

'They've been like this all morning. He's not a natural flier,' said Ginny with a laugh.

Ron shouted something down to Dean, who began to tilt sideways as he tried to look up towards him.

'Of course, Dean had never flown beyond the lessons in first year, has he?' said Cassy.

The broom he was on was old, she thought, although she was hardly able to tell one make from another. The end was beaten and crooked, having lost more than a few in the tail to a nasty fall, yet it looked hardly any better off than the one Ron was on. At least Dean's was not drifting backwards on its own accord.

'Ron said Dean can't get into the spirit of the World Cup with him if he doesn't at least play a game himself before we go, although I don't know if they'll ever get to it at this rate,' said Ginny.

Dean had wrote excitedly to her that Ron had invited him with his family to the World Cup. There had been a firm slap of friendly jealousy from both Dean and Ron when Seamus announced one morning that his mother had snagged tickets.

'Better him than me,' replied Cassy.

Ginny turned with her eyebrows raised. 'You don't like flying?'

'I never have. I hated the lessons in first year. I was rather relieved when Neville broke his wrist and the lesson was cancelled. We were hardly allowed to fly more than six foot off the ground for the rest of term,' she said, before rolling her eyes at Ginny's aghast expression. Ignoring it, Cassy looked at the two other red-heads who were farther back in the field. They threw a ball to one another, quickly getting faster and harder as they veered to and jolted to catch it. The one with the sturdier build shot the Quaffle sharply at the other, almost knocking him from his broom and forcing him to retie his ponytail.

'Your brothers Bill and Charlie?' asked Cassy.

'Yeah, they've come for the game too. It's a miracle they've got it off work, Dad says. Anyway, the boys will be back soon,' said Ginny. She turned and began to lead Cassy back up towards the house.

'I did wonder where they were. I expected them to be here early, if at all.'

'They came during breakfast and were dropped off by Neville's great-uncle, I think.' Ginny scrunched up her nose. 'He's a bit weird, to be honest.'

The man had shook Mr Weasley's hand fiercely, introduced himself, tipped his hat and was gone again before anyone had time to register what he had said at all. He apparated, taking Neville's bag with him, which his wife dropped off again moments later, and left his hat to float gently down to the ground before she picked that up too. Neville turned bright red and sunk his head down into his shoulders while Fred and George laughed loudly. No one was sure if the man was deranged, or just excitable. Neville shrugged it off each time. He said it was how he had always been like that.

Cassy laughed a bit. 'He had told me about him before. He's the one who hung Neville from the window.'

'He's definitely got a few screws loose then,' said Ginny.

'So, did they go to collect Hermione?'

'Yeah, they went with my Dad. They were so impressed by his car and Dad was so proud of it he offered to take them with him,' she said.

Cassy raised an eyebrow. 'His car?'

'An old Ford Anglia, or something. He enchanted it a while back, so it flies and then installed an invisibility booster the summer before my first year. He was so pleased. Mum hates it,' Ginny said casually.

Cassy squinted at her, but let the thought go. The shed then made sense with all its little hanging lights and tools in the window. Mr Weasley's love of muggles extended a bit beyond his work then, she supposed, and perhaps that was why Ginny was taking Muggle Studies when only Percy had before her. Still, Cassy shook her head at the idea of anyone having a flying vehicle.

They entered just in time to see Alphard pushing his chair under the table; oddly, it did not match the rest of them. Everything downstairs looked to be open plan and it was difficult to discern where one function ended and another began. The table was long and slightly chipped, but sturdy and old, pots hung from the ceiling not far off, and the sideboards were littered with various papers and letters, many of which looked like bills. The floor was swept and fresh flowers sat on the kitchen window above the sink. Stuffed in a corner were two sofas and an old armchair, the former of which were covered by crocheted throws Mrs Weasley had no doubt made herself.

Alphard patted Cassy on the shoulder as he passed. He said, 'Remember everything I have said and try not to be a nuisance, or next time you want to go somewhere I will make sure it is with your cousins.'

Cassy's nose twitched slightly. 'I will on my best behaviour,' she said quickly.

After a curt farewell to Mrs Weasley, Alphard vanished with a faint pop.

Mrs Weasley took the cup, a nicer one that any placed on the side, back into the kitchen, vanishing beyond the large doorway with only a little chink of crockery. Cassy looked around the room thoroughly, noting the bizarre grandfather clock that had varying length hands, each with a smiling face of a Weasley at the tip. The longest hand, Mr Weasley's, read 'travelling'.

'It isn't too much, I know, but it's our home. What do you think?' said Ginny.

'It is quite unlike anything I have ever seen,' said Cassy, but not unkindly. She smiled slightly and Ginny turned a faint shade of pink.

'Here you are, dear,' said Mrs Weasley. She handed Cassy a glass of orange juice before rummaging around in her apron pocket. 'Lunch is almost ready. It won't take more than -' she held up a small dome with little numbers all around the side that ticked in her hand, 'ten minutes. The boys had better hurry up, or it'll be cold by the time they get back. No matter – what on earth was that? Fred, George!'

The timer was back in Mrs Weasley's pocket and she was half way up the crooked stairs before Cassy had a chance to ask what the terrific bang had been. Then, there was a low rumbling and another thud; Mrs Weasley's hand rapped at the door loudly and Ginny smirked.

'They're in so much trouble,' she said with a laugh.

'What happened?' asked Cassy curiously.

'I don't know. No one knows, which is why mum is being so testy over it. They've been locked in their room nearly all summer with noises like that, but then mum found these order forms.'

'Orders for what?'

'Oh, they're not ordering anything,' said Ginny lowly, as if letting Cassy in on a big secret, 'they've been making order forms to sell things. We thought they just liked the noise, but they've actually been making their own products. Mum found out and she's furious. She'd probably take it better if they had at least got more than a handful of OWLs each...'

Cassy winced. 'A handful? I always thought they were quite smart.'

'That's why she's so mad. She doesn't reckon they tried at all.'

Cassy took a seat at the table, setting her juice down. Ginny followed suit and their voices dropped as Mrs Weasley's roar shook the beams above.

'I would quite like to see what they have been working on though,' said Cassy.

'So would everyone,' snorted Ginny, rolling her eyes. 'Apparently, it's 'Top Secret'. I think I saw them testing something on a kid down the road, but I'm not sure if they were just making him cry.'

Cassy laughed. It was quickly curbed when Mrs Weasley stomped back into the room. Never had the short woman looked as fierce as she did right then, with her shoulders high and her face set in a deadly scowl that she had seen Ginny wear on the odd occasion. Like her son, her ears tinged red in anger. Cassy felt very sorry for the twins for only a second before smiling into her cup when their stark white faces emerged from the staircase. Catching Ginny's eye, they grinned.

Fred and George sat on opposite sides of the table, one next to each of the girls. Ron, Dean, Bill and Charlie traipsed into the house as if smelling lunch from paddock. Bill helped his mother distribute the soup and bread, while Charlie worked quickly to defuse the tension across the table. Even Ron, who squinted at the dirt smeared across George's face, said nothing. Instead, the boys wolfed down their meals and excused themselves once more for Quidditch.

Cassy peered at Ginny, her head bowed. Mrs Weasley still looked furious. One hand was on her temple and the other was holding a napkin tightly. Cassy frowned.

'Mrs Weasley?' she asked, making the other jump.

'Yes, dear?'

'Would you like Ginny and I to wash up? You look... tired.'

Mrs Weasley blinked. She shook her head and pulled her bowl closer to her. 'No, no, don't be silly.'

'It's quite all right,' said Cassy. 'I am staying here. I would like to help.'

'Yeah, mum, it's fine,' said Ginny.

As soon as the hand hesitated, Cassy plastered a sweet smile on her face. It made Mrs Weasley's own smile falter and as her resistance fell, Cassy took the opportunity to take the bowl from her hands.

She and Ginny gathered all the crockery from the table and deposited it on the kitchen counter. They were silent for a moment. Then, the front door clicked shut.

'You've never washed up in your life, have you?' asked Ginny, smiling.

Cassy shook her head and said, 'No, but it is very rude to discomfort your host and your mother looked very stressed. The most courteous action was to make myself less of a burden on her for the duration I am here.'

'This isn't one of your manor houses, you know,' she said, tilting her head sideways. 'You don't have to do things like that with friends.'

Cassy opened her mouth to protest. There was no reason to be rude, friend's mother or not. She could not see what difference manners made in high-society or there, because manners only crumbled between friends and families, not hosts and guests. She made a small huff as Ginny shoved a pair of yellow gloves into her arms. With raised eyebrows, Cassy considered them.

'You offered. You're washing. I'll dry,' stated Ginny.

Cassy's eyebrows rose higher.

'You do know how to wash up, right?'

'Of course. I am not an invalid,' replied Cassy blankly. The fact of the matter was that she really had no desire to put on the rubber gloves, let alone scrub the plates of other people's leftovers. The largest chore Cassy had ever had to deal with was cleaning her bedroom – unless keeping an eye on Draco through their childhood counted, which upon retrospect she was beginning to feel it did. She looked down at the gloves again in disdain.

The tap ran boiling water into the basin as Ginny began sorting through the plates and pots, placing them in piles and sometimes into the sink. She had done it a hundred times before, Cassy could tell. It was methodical and boring. Cassy felt a renewed gladness that she had house-elves.

Somewhere in the distance was a low humming. It grow louder and louder and beyond the garden fence, still some feet in the air was a pale blue car. It flew lower, touching ground easily before rolling up to the boarder and slowing to a halt.

'That's dad with the others,' said Ginny giddily from where she and Cassy were peering through the window. 'C'mon!'

Cassy dropped the gloves with delight and followed Ginny out the back door and around the house. Mrs Weasley was all ready at the car. She kissed Mr Weasley's cheek and clapped her hands together and moved to greet Hermione as she climbed out the back-seat. Neville slid out the other side and Harry slammed the front door shut.

'Good afternoon,' called Cassy. She let Neville hug her and smiled at Harry for a moment. Hermione then attached herself to her with unnervingly good spirit after doing the same to Ginny.

'She's not stopped talking since she saw the car,' said Neville quietly. 'It fascinates her. She had all sorts of questions about how it's allowed that Mr Weasley couldn't answer.'

'That's because we don't think it is,' said Harry with a grin. 'He works in Muggle Artefacts or something, doesn't he? Me and Neville reckon he's stretching the rules a bit.'

It took less than ten seconds for Crookshanks to disappear into the bushes once released from his basket. Hermione waved it off as they took their belongings upstairs to Ginny's room. The room was small with two narrow windows and two beds made up on the floor, obscuring other furniture and making it difficult to tread. The walls were green, occasional streaks of gold stretched across darker squares where posters were hung, signalling the ostentatious Hollyhead Harpies's clawed foot symbol. The players streaked around in their posters and waved. On the far wall above Ginny's bed were several photographs of her family at various ages.

Harry and Neville slipped into the room. They dropped down onto one of the camping beds and the girls did the same after tucking their things into a corner.

'Is that the owl?' asked Harry, his keen eyes spotting a ball of feathers on top of Ginny's wardrobe.

Nodding, she smiled. She said, 'He has to stay in here because he annoys the other owls. He's a little bit hyper and wants to play. Errol is too old though and Hermes pecks at him. Percy always gets worked up that he's too noisy when he's trying to work – he's got a job at the Ministry now. Apparently, I have to share Pig with Ron though. It wasn't fair that he lost Scabbers and then I got an owl, or something like that.' She rolled her eyes and tried to coax the tiny owl towards them. It bustled in excitement and fluttered along the top of the wardrobe, but never got any closer.

'Pig?' asked Neville.

'Pigwidgeon,' clarified Ginny. 'It's cute.'

Cassy stared blankly and slowly looked to Neville, who shrugged while trying not to laugh.

'Ron hates it, but he doesn't answer to anything else,' she said.

'Speaking of letters,' said Cassy, 'have you heard anything from my father, Harry?'

Everyone turned to look at him. He shook his head with a sigh. It had been several weeks since he wrote and even longer since Cassy did. Between them, they had come up with more than a dozen reasons he would not have replied, yet all of them were either unlikely or unlikeable and neither of them wanted to think too hard about it.

'I want him to hurry up. He said he was settled, so I thought the letters would become more frequent. Hedwig's not come back with or without a reply,' said Harry with a frown.

'Relax,' said Cassy easily. 'He is still far away and worrying about it will not help. He is with Remus, if anything had happened we would know about it.'

'You're too relaxed,' said Harry sharply.

'And you are becoming too worked up over - ' began Cassy calmly, yet she was cut off by Harry. He scowled and threw his hands out in front of him as if presenting a grand idea.

'Over my Godfather? Well, yeah, I want him to be all right,' he said, staring at her incredulously.

Over someone you don't even know, thought Cassy. She leant back on the bed, resting her arms behind her and said nothing to Harry. His anger was merely because he was concerned, she knew that having seen it many times before; she could not bring herself to scold him for his tone because it would make no difference now. While his scar must have been playing on his mind, his eagerness for a reply was constantly visible with every fleeting look to the window during their mirror-conversations, even if he did not mention it. Cassy could not help but be a little bit annoyed with him.

'Harry,' said Hermione gently, 'it will be fine.'

A heavy silence flooded the room. Everyone looked around, avoiding each other's eyes as they picked at the blankets, or the cotton hem of their tops. Cassy breathed out lightly, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. Pig squawked from upon the wardrobe, Cassy watched him for a moment.

'I received a letter the other day from Shandy,' she said casually, as if reporting she had brought a new coat.

There was only a slight delay of movement, then, like sparks shooting through their bodies, everyone jumped to life, talking at once. She thought she may have been reprimanded several times for not sharing it sooner, but Cassy was not really listening to the specifics of what they said. They huddled close together, squashing Cassy in the centre of the mass after having pushed her to retrieve the letter from her bag. The letter was picked at and pulled at, with Harry and Hermione fighting on either side of her to get a better look first. Wrangling it back, Cassy cleared her throat. She said, 'Dearest Miss Black.'

Ginny snorted and Harry scrunched his nose. Cassy made the barest huff of acknowledgement and continued.

Dearest Miss Black,

How dare you not present yourself at the annual Greengrass ball! I waited for hours and even braved talking to that cousin of yours (the blond one with the severe looking parents). He said you were not coming. How rude. I suppose I may see you at the Quidditch World Cup – your cousin said you were attending. I never thought you liked sport.

Regardless, how was your summer? Did you not think last year was simply dreadful? How boring it was – shockingly so. I thought given that Lupin was a werewolf we might have a bit of a treat, but alas! It's a shame he quit. I am quite surprised, seeing as his kind find employment difficult to obtain. Odd, do you not think so? You seemed to talk to him fairly often, so did Potter, any idea what happened? I bet you would not tell me anyway. I will find out.

To be honest, I was waiting for a big finale where something happened to Potter as it does every year. I imagine you were rather relieved. The whole fiasco with your father breaking into Hogwarts really did amount to nothing. I thought for sure he would make a final showing just before the end of the year, but it was not to be. You might want to keep an eye on Potter though, lots of nasty people at the World Cup. He seems to attract the attention. Perhaps your father might even be there somewhere. That's a fun thought, isn't it?

I do hope you are suitably enraged now,

Benjamin Shandy

Cassy finished reading it out and there was a collective sigh.

'Thank Merlin he didn't figure out about Sirius,' said Harry in relief.

'Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that he's crazy! Look at half the things he said,' squawked Neville.

'He was trying to wind her up. Look, he even admits it,' said Hermione, plucking the letter from Cassy's hand. 'He just wants a reaction – you haven't written back, have you?'

Cassy had and she told them so. The letter was short. It merely stated that she had better things to do than attend a ball of people she did not like – the latter was heavily implied, not stated – and that he should look for alternate outlets for his boredom than the death of other students. It had been signed curtly and sent the same evening. There had been no reply.

'I dearly hope we miss him at the World Cup,' said Cassy frankly. The letter was folded back into her bag and everyone moved to distribute themselves equally across the three beds.

'There's going to be thousands of people there. What are the chances of bumping into him?' said Ginny. 'The only person I plan on seeing is Luna. She gave me her tent number before she left. She's been there for a week all ready.'

'Why?' asked Harry with a frown.

Ginny shrugged. 'She said something about the grounds being infested with something or other. They think it's going to affect people's sleep and make them cranky. I imagine their plot will be heavily protected.'

Mid-way through talking, Ron and Dean pushed open Ginny's door without even a knock. Ron shut the door and slumped onto Ginny's bed, who did not bat an eyelash at his behaviour until she finished talking. Then, he received a very sharp demand to leave.

'Why?' he said. 'I haven't done anything.'

'You didn't ask to come in,' she said.

'So?'

'I always have to ask to go into your room and even then you sometimes ignore me.'

'Yeah, well, it's hard to know if someone is knocking on the door or if the ghouls messing with the pipes again,' he said, sprawling himself out and stretching his long legs behind Ginny. 'Take a seat, Dean.'

Dean hovered for a moment before smiling slightly as Ginny gestured to the beds on the floor. He set himself down beside Cassy, who moved up to make room, and grinned at her in greeting.

'So who were you talking about?' asked Ron.

'Luna – you know, my friend from Ravenclaw?' said Ginny slowly.

'Oh.' Ron grimaced suddenly. 'The er – the odd one.'

Ron flinched to the side as soon as the words left his mouth and Cassy briefly wondered if Ginny had perhaps smacked him a few times for insulting the airy blonde over the summer.

'Yes, her. We're on about meeting her at the Cup,' said Ginny.

Ron's face lit up in a serene glow. His shoulders slumped and his expression became increasingly distant. It was as if Ginny had cast a spell on him and all of his dreams had come true at once. The lights and bright banners were almost visible in his eyes, the roar of the game on his lips as he drew back into the room at the sound of sniggering.

'Not long now!' he roared. 'Just fourteen hours until we're at the field. One day until it begins. I can't believe we're actually going. I can't wait -'

'We hadn't guessed, Ron,' said Dean with a grin. 'It's only all you've been saying all day.'

'This isn't like your football matches, this is the Quidditch World Cup! It's a once in a lifetime event,' exclaimed Ron.

Dean shot him a dubious look and muttered about trying to compete with tickets to a football world cup. Shaking his head, Ron launched back into a list of reasons Quidditch was to be so much more fun, but no one was really listening. As he spoke, Ginny leant over to them, cupping her hands around her mouth.

'I thought you should all know,' she said in a loud whisper, 'that Ron is utterly in love with the Bulgarian Seeker, Victor Krum.'

In a split second Ron was scarlet.

Chapter three complete!

As much as Cassy is relaxing in life, she will never forget her manners. I model wizards on a more Victorian era sense, only with looser morals and more equality. Manners are important, so I don't think any persuasion from her friends will ever stop her wanting to be a good guest or host.

Next is the Quidditch World Cup which will get some things really rolling on this year.

I have done two updates now because I am busy next month and it might not be until late in May when I can update. It should be regular from there though.

Thanks!