C. M. Black: Heart of a Lion
Chapter III: A burning irritation
The first week of term flew past and Cassy found herself pleased it was already Friday. This was not because she did not enjoy her lessons, which she did seventy percent of the time, but because Friday meant she would have two whole days to wander around the castle and memorise its layout. Her main method of getting to classes depended largely on guess work, but more recently she had taken to asking the portraits. However, the difficulty in this lay in knowing which one to ask.
It had become apparent very quickly that she had lucked out on her second try. Asking Sir William Doyle for directions, or anything else that matter, was pointless. The man loved to talk about himself and was so thrilled to have a new audience he just did not stop. It was not until a woman dressed in a medic's gown three paintings over shouted instructions at her that Cassy was able to run to Charms, leaving the other portraits to deal with the man. She made it with only minutes to spare, but still arrived earlier than many first years who had ended up in the Astronomy Tower.
Another hindrance, proving to be just as frustrating as Cassy had first assumed, were the staircases. Some would change when you were on them and others refused to move at all. There were times you were forced to go up a floor simply because all the stairs leading down had moved away from you and others where you could simply not move at all. Out of all one-hundred and forty-two staircases in Hogwarts, Cassy would wager there are at least a dozen which had missing steps. Although they appeared to be there, once stepped on, the persons foot would slip straight through it. It was remembering which ones they were was the difficult part.
However, the castle walls themselves could be just as annoying when in a rush as the stairs. The doors were temperamental and would not always open, sometimes asking them politely would work and other times it would not. Cassy felt extraordinarily silly speaking to a door, especially as she had passed a group of second years once trying to open one, only to find it was a wall pretending to be a door. Other than pretending to be doors, the walls sometimes appeared to shift. A corridor that was there one day was not always there the next.
Sir Nicholas had been a great help to all of the Gryffindor first years, happily pointing them in the right direction. It was when Peeved appeared that one would know they were to be late for class that day. Two trick doors and a changed staircase later, they were already ten-minutes late.
Potter and Weasley had spoke of Filch and Mrs. Norris at dinner on the first day. All the first years had sat near one another and swapper stories, despite being in all the same classes. Finnigan and Thomas had struck up a good friendship by that evening, as had Patil and Brown. Hermione Granger was ignoring Cassy because on her unorthodox method of re-potting Fire-ferns, so they sat on either side of Neville, who looked severely uncomfortable.
Weasley told everyone about how they had been trying to force their way through a locked door -the third one they had found in half-an-hour- only for it to turn out to be a door on the third floor. Everyone listened with great interest, but was disappointed when the pair admitted they could not find out what was behind it. Mrs. Norris had found them and quickly run to fetch Filch, who did not believe them when they said they were lost and they had to be saved by Professor Quirrell, who was passing at the time. Cassy had yet to encounter Filch, but assumed she would most likely do so this weekend for being somewhere she should not be. She was not too worried though.
Professor Quirrell's class was awful. When Alphard had criticised the man on his cowardice, Cassy believed her uncle had been exaggerating, but upon meeting the man, she realised he had underplayed it. If there was ever a man afraid of his own shadow, it was Quirrell. He stuttered and flinched, shuddered at the names of dark creatures and avoided practicals all together. When asked where he got his turban, which reeked of garlic and a fainter, fowler odour, he told them he got it from an African Prince for saving them from a hoard of zombies. Cassy was not sure anyone believed this.
Transfiguration was so far the most difficult subject as only Cassy and Granger had managed to turn their matchsticks into needles. Patil's had turned silver and the end of Finnigan erupted into flames. He had gone through sixteen matches before the end of the lesson and Professor McGonagall refused to give him any more.
Cassy's favourite lesson so far was Charms. The professor was cheerful and short, needing to stand on a stack of books to see beyond his desk. Charms was very much trial and error. Everyone had great fun waving blindly for the first twenty-minuets when Professor Flitwick told them to show him what they could do. The classroom filled with loud bangs and whistles and nobody was quite sure who was doing what, but it proved to be entertaining.
Everyone had exited in high spirits which lasted all of two-minuets in their next class. The teacher of History of Magic was a ghost. Professor Binns had apparently worked in Hogwarts for seventy-six years teaching History, when one evening he fell asleep in his chair, got up to teach the next morning and failed to realise he had no physical body. Some people even speculated he still did not know he was dead. However, being a ghost was not the issue, but rather his inability to teach.
Professor Binns droned on, never pausing and forcing the class to quickly scribble down notes. He also had an unfortunate tendency to get names mixed up. They had a lot of extra reading to do that evening.
As Friday rolled around, every ones spirits had taken a dive. The first lesson was Potions with the Slytherins, which, to Cassy, did not seem that bad. It was largely due to rumours concerning Professor Snape's bias behaviour and unconditional hatred for Gryffindor that hampered her spirits. All in all though, she remained curious and more enthusiastic than her house-mates.
The dungeons, where Potions was held, was darker and colder than anywhere else in the castle. With no natural light, the walls were laden with torches, the light reflecting off the tall, silver suits of armour and giving the entire corridor a daunting appearance.
Unlike any other classroom, Professor Snape's was actually straightforward to find. Only some of the many corridors in the dungeons were lit and following the illuminated pathway lead directly to it. Everyone had managed to get there on time because no-one really wanted to venture down to dark corridors in Slytherin territory.
So much for Gryffindor bravery, Cassy thought as she watched the other first years file down the corridor, as far away from the walls as possible.
It was quickly and mutually decided that the classroom itself was scarier than the whole of the dungeons. It was dark with the faintest smell of iron. The shelves were filled with jars of pickled animals, old books and vials and did little to encourage the students into the room.
Like usual, Professor Snape began with a register. He hesitated at Cassy's name, looking up slowly at her before ticking her name. Her eyebrows twitched down and she could see Neville fidget at the close proximity of the teachers gaze. Professor Snape continued down the list, never pausing until he reached Potter.
'Ah, yes. Mr. Potter, our new... celebrity,' he said softly.
There were several sniggers from the Slytherins on the other side of the room and he continued his list, before stepping in front of his desk and looking critically at each student.
'Potion making might not require a wand, so you may not believe it to be magic... I do not expect you to understand the beauty of a simmering cauldron and its shimmering fumes, the liquid that seers through a person's veins, bewitching their senses and ensnaring their mind... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death- if you are not as big a dunderheads as I normally teach.'
Cassy blinked, surprised by the abrupt end to the intriguing speech. The students just sat there, unmoving and unsure of how to respond. The only one who made any sort of change was Granger, who had edged up against the table, leaning as far forward as she could go, eager to prove she was not a dunderhead. Even the Slytherins had not responded.
'Potter!' Professor Snape barked suddenly. 'Tell me what I would get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'
Granger's hand shot into the air, but Potter looked stumped.
'I don't know, sir,' Potter said.
Their teacher sneered at him, ignoring Granger entirely. 'Another, Potter. Where would I find a bezoar?'
Stomach of a goat, Cassy mentally answered, but I only know that from when Great-Uncle Cygnus was in hospital... this is unfair. Had she been asked the first question, Cassy reckoned she would have looked just as silly as Potter. She was just thankful she was not asked, but she was finding Professor Snapes treatment of him slightly unnerving.
'I don't know,' Potter said again, looking irritated this time.
'Well, clearly fame isn't everything, is it?'
Cassy looked over to Draco, who, along with Crabbe and Goyle, was shaking with silenced laughter. She frowned deeply, narrowing her eyes as her cousin caught sight of her. He stared wide-eyed for a moment before they were interrupted.
'Black!' snapped Professor Snape. 'Is my lesson too boring for you?'
Cassy did not reply, instead turned to the man with cold eyes.
'Fine, what is the difference between Monkshood and Wolfbane?'
'Nothing,' she said confidently, 'besides the date of which they were named. They are the same plant and is also known as aconite.' That one was easy, she recognised. However, that was simply because she had an advantage in such an area, out of everything he could have asked her, she could not have been more pleased.
He raised an eyebrow, but Cassy could not tell whether he was pleased or surprised. 'Well,' he said, 'it appears someone is capable of opening a book before my lesson. Let's hope Miss Black continues her... hard work.'
Professor Snape snapped around, barking the answers to earlier questions and writing up a full set of instructions on the black board. Cassy decided that no inspiring speech could save this man's reputation in her mind and she relented to inwardly disliking him.
'H-how did you know that?' Neville whispered to her as she passed to collect more fangs.
'My great-uncle Alphard is a Potioneer. I go with him to Europe sometimes for seminars and expositions, so I ask him questions,' she said, smiling softly. 'Most people don't, so do try to look less worried.'
Neville had not realised his expression reflected his nervousness and turned bright pink. He quickly looked back down at his potion. Cassy moved back to Dean Thomas, who she was working with, and deposited the ingredients on the table. She began crushing the fangs with an even larger fang when there was a hissing and a green plume rose and shrouded the ceiling. Neville and Finnigan had melted their cauldron somehow and splattered everything around them. Neville was covered as his skin was quickly scorched and blistering.
'Idiotic child!' Professor Snape seethed as he strode over to inspect the damage. 'You added quills before taking it off the fire, didn't you?' Neville did not respond coherently and the Professor growled. 'Take him to the hospital wing!'
Finnigan took Neville's arm and guided him out of the room. In a passing thought, Cassy wondered if they even knew where the hospital wing was.
Professor Snape rounded on Potter, who had been working with Weasley beside Neville.
'I suppose you thought it would be funny not to tell him not to add the quills, Potter. Thought it would make you look good? Gryffindor loses a point.' Potter opened his mouth to retort, but Weasley visibly kicked him.
Neville and Finnigan had not returned by the end of the lesson. Professor Snape quickly dismissed them and everyone piled out the room as quickly as they could. Cassy hesitated. She grabbed Neville and Finnigan's bags from under their desk and exited.
Pushing past the Slytherins who still lingered in the corridor, Cassy darted up the staircase and into the entrance hall, passing the other first years. Thomas held a door open open for her as she passed, but quickly called her back.
'Are those Seamus and Neville's bags?' he said.
'I'm going to the hospital wing to give them their things. I want to see how Neville's doing.'
Thomas nodded and smiled broadly at her, asking, 'Do you mind if I tag along? Want me to hold one?' Cassy slowly handed him Finnigan's satchel.
They set off again; only after they turned three corners did Cassy think to tell him she did not know the way.
'I was hoping for the best,' she told him when he asked her why they had gone the way they had then. Thomas snorted and they continued to wander for twenty minutes before asking a most rude and unhelpful portrait. Three consecutive dead ends later and their patience was wearing thin.
'I'm starting to hate this Castle,' Thomas sighed as they walked back the way they came.
'As am I, Thomas,' Cassy said with refined exasperation.
'Call me Dean.' He smiled at her, but it fell when he realised she was not looking back. He waited for a moment and sensed she was not going to react at all. He tried again, 'Sorry, but I didn't really catch your name at the sorting. I don't think I've ever heard it before.'
'Cassiopeia,' she said, looking forward uncomfortably. 'It is the name of a star.'
Dean nodded slightly. 'That's unusual. Can I call you that then... rather than by your last name, I mean.' Cassy was visibly surprised as she blinked at him.
'If you must, you may call me Cassy. Never Cassiopeia.' Her eyes travelled upwards. 'We're near the Gryffindor common room. Look.'
Pointing one floor up, they could see the familiar turning that lead to the Fat Lady's portrait.
'We can ask someone there,' Dean said happily.
With revived energy, they entered the common room. Dean approached a third-year by the fireplace for directions. They wrote them down on a scrap of parchment they ripped from the bottom of their homework, directing then straight from the Gryffindor tower.
'Why do you need to go to the hospital wing?' Weasley piped up from a chair in the corner. The common room was quite, so everyone had heard Dean ask.
'We're going to see how Seamus and Neville are,' Dean answered and the pair turned to face them. 'You're more than welcome to join us.'
Potter looked ready to get up, but Weasley looked doubtfully at Cassy, asking suddenly: 'You want to see them? Why?'
'Excuse me?' Cassy asked affronted. 'Why would I not?'
'Well, your family doesn't care about anyone oth-'
'That's a lie,' Cassy said icily, face tense, but controlled. Dean and Potter seemed to sense the danger bells and quickly intervened.
'I'd like to go,' said Potter, looking at Weasley meaningfully.
'Well, let's go before we miss them on the way,' Dean said and ushered everyone out the portrait hole.
Potter and Weasley chatted lightly about visiting Hagrid at three for a while, before the topic changed to Quidditch. Neither Dean nor Potter understood the game, having been raised by Muggles and Weasley was exceptionally poor in describing it. Every time he got close, he would lose focus and begin a tangent about an amazing goal the Chudley Cannons had scored last season. Cassy was the only one trying to decipher the instructions, the third-year had particularly bad penmanship, and was forced to give up three lines from the bottom. She strode down the next corner and looked left down the first turning, spotting large double doors.
'I think this is it,' she said.
'Looks like it,' said Dean, using his long legs to move easily from beside the boys to stand next to Cassy.
'Finally!' gasped Weasley.
The door was, in fact, to the hospital wing. They did not knock, seeing the door was only pushed to and let themselves in. The wing was large, about half the size of the Great Hall with ceilings just as high and thick, arching beams running horizontally from left to right across it. There were over two dozen beds, headboards pushed against either wall and at the far end was a small door leading to an adjacent room.
Finnigan sat on one of the beds, shoes off and massaging the pink spots on his skin. He looked up when they entered and grinned.
'Hey!' he called, waving them over.
The nurse glanced at them from where she was covering Neville's face in paste, but looked away when she noticed nobody was injured. She backed off and put the lid back on the jar.
'Stay here for the evening,' she told Neville, 'you might be able to go back to your dormitory tonight depending on how well your face heels.'
'Wow, you look a mess,' Weasley announced after the woman had exited through the door at the far end, most likely her office.
'Thanks,' said Neville flatly.
'What is that she put on your face?' Potter asked.
'A healing paste,' he said, dabbing away a bit with his finger. 'Madam Pomfrey said I was lucky it didn't get in my eyes.'
'Lucky? That stuff burnt through my shoes! Imagine what it would have done to your eyes,' Finnigan cried, rubbing his feet. Everyone cringed.
'We brought your bags,' said Cassy, sensing the conversation had run dry. She put Neville's down beside his bed and Dean did the same to Finnigan's.
Cassy hoisted herself onto a bed on the other side of Neville's, her legs dangling over the edge, before asking, 'So, how are you?' It was a silly question really, Cassy recognised. Neville had just had his face burnt and was covered in healing paste, but the boy brightened.
'Pomfrey said it will heal, just probably a little slow. It shouldn't scar,' Neville said, cheeks tingeing pink.
'That's lucky,' Weasley said suddenly. 'My brother Charlie got burnt by a dragon once – he works in Romania. It didn't heal well and now he has a massive scar on his back.'
There was a long silence before Cassy spoke, 'That was not reassuring in the slightest. Besides, magical flames are slightly different than an exploding potion.'
'Nobody asked you, Black.'
Cassy refrained from sneering at him.
'Ignore him, Neville,' Potter said. 'I'm sure it'll be gone before you know it.'
'Yeah, Madam Pomfrey is a great healer,' Finnigan added.
Neville's face had gone white beneath the green paste and he nodded shakily at their words.
'Charlie's scar is cool, though,' Weasley muttered, frowning at the ground. Potter discreetly smacked him.
Potter and Weasley soon excused themselves with the excuse they had to be somewhere else. Dean had taken up residency on the end of Finnigan's bed and the pair talked for the better part of twenty-minutes before Madam Pomfrey excused Finnigan and they left themselves with a wave.
There was a long silence. Cassy swung her legs gently and Neville stared at his hands, unsure of what to do or say now they were alone.
'Do things like this happen often to you?' Cassy asked finally.
'Ah, s-sometimes.'
It was evident from this first week it happened more than just 'sometimes', but the boy was clearly embarrassed. There was another pause before Neville let out a puff of air, going a deeper shade of red as he realised he sighed out loud.
'Do you not like my company? I can leave if you like.'
'N-no, no, that's not it. I mean... I don't know what to say.' He looked at her pleadingly and Cassy felt one of her eyebrows rise.
'Normally or just now?' Cassy found herself smiling as Neville began spluttering. In the end, he just let out a long "ehhh" noise and stared at the sheets. 'Always it is then.'
He looked up red-faced before quickly looking down again. Mumbling incoherently, he pulled at his black trousers. He sighed again before muttering a little louder, 'I'm... I'm just... scared.'
'Of what?' Cassy asked, before realising what she had initiated. 'Of lessons, students, teachers... me?'
'E-everything, really. My family thought I was a Squib for so long, a-and my magic's probably really weak. I thought for sure I was going to be in Hufflepuff...P-professor Snape hates me and I'm always late to everything! And you're the only one who actually speaks to me seriously,' he cried, turning to Cassy expectantly.
'Professor Snape dislikes everyone apart from the Slytherins. Think yourself lucky that he does not hate you as much as he does Potter,' she offered blandly. Neville face regained a bit of colour regardless of her tone, but she continued: 'Would you rather I did not speak to you?'
'No, I didn't mean that... people just don't seem to like me much.'
Staring intently, enough so to make Neville squirm, Cassy replied, 'I don't know what you expect me to say. If you haven't noticed, I have not made any fast friends either. I talk to you because you are easy to talk to.'
Now Neville was staring, although mostly in shock. He had never had anyone tell him that before, while it was generally a pleasing thing to hear, he felt over-whelmed that it would come from someone from the Black family, or any notorious Slytherin brood. However, he thought as his cheeks flushed a brilliant red, Cassy did not exactly fit that bill.
'T-thanks, but still, it doesn't stop anything else I said from being true.'
She opened her mouth slowly, thinking over what she was going to say this time, 'Everyone had been late at least once.' He smiled slightly and she chose not to add on that neither her nor Granger had. 'If you did have had enough magic you would not be here, but you do deserve to be so you are. It will just take some practise. Think of Transfiguration, hardly anyone made any changes to their matches.'
Neville had visibly brightened, but still appeared unsure. He smiled slightly and Cassy offered an awkward smile back.
I suppose this could be make or break for some people reading it. We have the introduction of Cassy's conflict with Ron.
Don't get me wrong, I do rather like Ron, but you have to admit, he can be a complete git. So, I can't imagine him -at least not immediately- liking Cassy. Especially when he has a tendency to say things without really understanding the implications of his words.
Now that you've seen it – what do you think?
Also, do you like that I've made her friends with Neville, rather than just dumping her into the trio? She will interact more with them, I assure you, but right now it isn't needed. I also want her to have a little wider variation in acquaintances, because people do speak to others outside of their immediate friend group.
Sorry if the chapter is a little mushy, but they're both awkward people and are young, everything is kind of cutesy at that age...
Thanks!