C. M. Black: Blood of a Dog
Chapter VII: His intentions
There was a familiar shattering of porcelain followed by a huff of irritation from Hermione. Across from her Ron grinned, instructing his knight across the board. He had even let Hermione play as white to give her the advantage. It was a very short-lived one in Cassy's opinion, but she did not know what would annoy her more, Hermione's angry grunts, or if Hermione actually won against the House's best chess player. It only took Cassy a split second to look up from her book to where the pair were sitting on the floor in front of the fire to realise it was definitely the second one. She took a little too much satisfaction at the distaste on Hermione's face.
The book Cassy was reading was angled awkwardly on the arm of the chair, forcing her to twist her body as to be able to both read and please Crookshanks, who had taken up residence on her lap with a stubborn refusal to move at all. The book was Hermione's. It was a muggle one with a detective protagonist in the late nineteenth century who solved many mysteries with the power of deduction; Sherlock Holmes was quickly becoming one of her favourite books and her friend seemed terribly pleased with herself for having introduced her.
'It proves that muggles do invent some great things, even if it is just fiction,' had said Hermione, coupled with a pointed stare.
Another shatter and a hiss of sympathy from Neville. It was followed by a sharp demand of quiet and then another crash, which left Ron sniggering into his hand.
'You can't win at everything, Hermione,' said Ron cheerfully, knowing he only had a few more moves to wrap the game up.
'The look of her face says she thinks she can,' said Harry. He swung his legs up onto the sofa to avoid Hermione's hand that reached out to smack him.
'Another match,' she demanded. 'I've got it figured out now.'
'What's there to figure out? It's chess,' replied Ron, but shrugged and sent his pieces to sort themselves again.
'Your game play. Besides, this chess set isn't mine so it doesn't respond well to me at the moment. I just need a few games to break it in.'
Ron snorted and grinned. 'If you think that's the issue then think again. This isn't my set either, it's Neville's. I was teaching him to play before you came back from the library. I don't have control either, I'm just good.'
Ron was an excellent player and Cassy often considered it a shame that none of his chess tact could materialise in real situations. She smiled as Hermione's piece was shattered straight after it moving.
The free period was relaxing, a nice break from the hectic past few days, but no matter how absorbed Cassy tried to become in the little group there was an over-arching feeling she could not shake. She could feel them all the time – the stares of everyone as she walked, as she sat, even as she lay in bed at night the feeling of a pair of eyes was always on her. It had caused more than a few problems since Halloween. That was not to say everyone was being rude to her, although she did get the occasional remark. Most were silently staring, or whispering behind cupped hands to their friends, thinking she could not see or hear them. What she could not hear she could read, although she tried not to, for watching people's lips had become an unfortunate talent and one that made her insides heavy as she became aware of what people thought of her, or rather, her father, whom she seemed to be inexplicably linked to now.
'Have you never seen someone read before?' came a shout.
Fred and George had came waltzing past, scaring a few first years who quickly ducked their heads. They swung themselves round to either side of Cassy's chair and she had just enough time to move the book before George sat on it.
'Morning,' they greeted everyone in unison. There was a variety of greetings back, a particularly grumpy one from Hermione and a beaming one by Ron.
Being surrounded by people did not always help, Cassy learnt quickly. The company she kept probably got more stares than had she been alone, for what odd friends for the daughter of a Death Eater to keep than blood-traitors, muggle-borns, and the Boy-Who-Lived himself. Not that that stopped them all from flanking her wherever she went. There seemed to be an agreement (one Cassy was not present in, but did not wholly mind) that she cannot be left unattended in the current climate. It was sweet. Cassy appreciated it. However, it was the single most unnecessary and irritating thing anyone had ever done for her.
'Have you had all morning off?' asked Fred.
'Just first and second period,' said Neville; he flipped a card over onto the growing pile on the centre cushion on the sofa. Another was over turned by Harry, who sat at the other end.
'Lucky,' sighed George. 'We've been working hard all morning, haven't we, Forge?'
'Of course, Gred! Life is hard when you are doing your OWLs,' said Fred miserably.
'Liars,' everyone chimed together in a dull tone.
Fred and George looked aghast, hands over their hearts in mock shock. They were not paid the slightest bit of attention for it so they began to find other ways to amuse themselves. It quickly descended to a level of irritating Cassy by reading lines out of her book at random over her shoulder. They would add new lines of dialogue in high voices and it did not take them long to invent long, rambling speeches of envy and lust that while obviously had no place to Cassy or Hermione, succeeded in getting strange looks from everyone else.
Harry grinned at Cassy as she shot him an exasperated look. She made no move to push Fred and George away, but she clearly wanted them gone, much like many things at that time. After watching her for a moment – and missing the call of 'snap!' from Neville and a puff of smoke from the deck of cards – he flicked his attention around the room. People were still watching them, watching Cassy, from behind their books and between their fingers as if they had never quite seen anyone like her. There was a familiar bubble of annoyance, a mild sort that Harry felt every September when the new first years would turn and gape at him, which easily turned from amusing to frustrating when they had not stopped two weeks later. It had been a week all ready and these people knew Cassy.
What was undoubtedly the worst moment since the incident was when Hermione came skittering down the stairwell to the girls' dormitory, ringing her hands and asking Neville or Harry to speak to Cassy. It was the second night that they had slept in their beds since and it was hardly just fortune that the pair were still awake. No one could sleep well at all. They all expected Black to come bursting through the portrait whole and murder them where they slept, and nerves were beginning to fray.
'I'm not saying she has to go,' protested Lavender Brown loudly. 'I'm just saying she makes me uncomfortable.'
'You needn't have said anything at all!' shrieked Hermione.
By the time Professor McGonagall had arrived the fight had moved downstairs and half of Gryffindor was watching.
'I can't sleep. I keep thinking he'll be back. How did he even know were our common room was?' added Patil.
'That had nothing to do with me,' said Cassy lowly to the pairs of eyes that dared to turn her way. She did not mention that her father had been in Gryffindor himself knowing it would only hurt her own defence. Instead she stood by the fire, arms crossed and a face like thunder that deterred anyone from even considering to speak to her. It was the same face she had when she stalked back upstairs after Professor McGonagall had given everyone a stern warning; get along or get out. Anyone not behaving will see themselves sleeping in an empty classroom on the third floor. Even if it was no longer restricted, people still hated to go down there.
Harry was pulled out of this thoughts when Neville waved a hand in front of his face.
'Are you all right?' he asked. 'You've been staring at that girl so long she's moved tables.'
'Oh, no, I just... I was thinking, I guess,' said Harry blurredly. Shaking his head he turned back to see Cassy had shut her book and moved Crookshanks onto Fred, who did not look wholly comfortable with the cat being on him. George was sniggering and Cassy had her lips pierced in something of a smug annoyance.
'Cass,' he called loudly, 'feel like going for a walk? I feel like going to visit Hagrid and trying some of his rock cakes. Coming Neville?'
Neville looked sick at the idea, but nodded anyway. By the time had stood up Cassy had all ready deposited her book at Hermione's side with a call to take it upstairs for her and was half way out the common room. Harry and Neville caught up with a run and the portrait swung shut behind them with a satisfying thud.
'We're not really going to see Hagrid to have cake, are we?' said Neville with a groan. His stomach ached just thinking about it, fingers burying into the thick green wool of his jumper as he clutched his middle.
'Of course not,' said Cassy brightly.
'We're going to the kitchens,' said Harry.
'Oh, good,' sighed Neville in relief.
Harry laughed, nudging his shoulder with his own before they began their descent towards the Hufflepuff common room. They spoke idly, glad to be away from everything and everyone for a moment. It was oddly like their first year and their pointless wanderings, however, it did not feel quite right without Hermione, who they were glad had become such a permanent fixture. Although, Neville reminded them, she had been less than pleased when she had last visited the kitchens.
'I swear by fifth year she will have started a group or a petition or something, I'm telling you,' said Neville.
'How popular do you reckon that will be? Is there much of an anti-house-elf call in society?' asked Harry jovially, despite the topic.
'No,' scoffed Cassy, still smiling. 'She will be lucky if she can get ten members foolish enough... wait, never mind that will probably be us. She will pressure is into it.'
'As her friend's we can't say no,' said Harry. He shrugged and he and Neville laughed loudly past a classroom of sixth year students as Cassy's nose scrunched.
'She better not make badges,' she grumbled.
The staircase shifted towards them and they plodded down in lazily, waiting at the bottom for the connecting one to swing around to them.
'Afraid it will ruin your reputation?'said Harry.
'Reputation?' repeated Cassy. She did not think that Draco would go near her again if he saw her wearing any such emblem of such liberal thinking. 'I would not agree with any such club if she were to make one. The house-elves tend to be very happy doing what they do, unless they are ill-treated. That is the only thing I do not agree with.'
'But they're kinda like slaves. They're not paid or anything.' Harry looked down at her curiously, but Cassy just raised an eyebrow.
'They do not wish to be paid. They think it is insulting, which is probably why we were ushered out so quickly when she started to fuss.'
There was a short pause, then: 'You know you'll end up joining whatever you think, right?'
Cassy sighed loudly. She looked away and smiled as Harry and Neville chortled. It was true. Try as she might she would most likely be coerced into joining one way or another.
There was a loud huff behind them punctuated with a gentle, periodic tapping of what could only be a foot. They hushed their laughter and turned around, still smiling as they greeted Professor McGonagall, who did not appear to be nearly as amused. In fact, she looked between them with an eye that Alphard often did to Cassy when he knew she had done something she should not have but he did not know what yet, or had any way to prove it. Harry and Neville looked abashed, while Cassy stared on gleefully, being quite used to the expression by then.
Professor McGonagall simply shook her head and turned pointedly to Harry. 'Mr. Potter, a word, if you please.'
'Oh, sure,' said Harry. As he followed her up the marble staircases towards her office, he discretely turned to pull an enquiring face at Cassy and Neville, who stared back equally unknowingly. They waited until he was out of sight before continuing down to the kitchens, assuming Harry will meet them there.
Neville tickled the pear and the portrait swung aside to reveal the busy kitchen. The elves were running around stacking the many plates and goblets into neat piles under the counters, while others had all ready begun cooking lunch. Some turned around at the sound of the portrait opening, letting out a cry of delight at the visitors, while others, the elder ones who had grown quite used to the occasional visitor, continued their work as if the pair were not there at all.
There was a particularly loud squeal and before Cassy could turn her head towards the sound there was a small body attached to the hem of her crisp white dress.
'Hello, Plum,' greeted Cassy knowingly. Her hand automatically went to the top of her elf's head, patting it in a patronising manner that Plumb seemed to enjoy.
'I wondered if Miss was going to visit,' said Plum cheerfully. She turned to Neville and greeted him with a handshake, apparently approaching him in the same way she had Harry – fully enthusiasm and little differentiation between how to interact with Cassy and her friends. Breathing out a greeting, Neville pulled his hand away with some effort before Plum let out a nonsensical garble of excited words and skipped speedily to the large island in the centre of the floor. Plates were loudly pulled from the stacks and a bowl was whisked across to her with a click of her fingers.
'You will love it, Miss,' she announced over the noise of the other elves.
'What is she making?' muttered Neville in Cassy's ear.
'I have no idea. All I caught was that there were some fantastic new recipes she wants to show me and that I will undoubtedly love them. That means she is most likely making us a cake of some form. I assume that the other elves have been sharing some of their family treats with her,' said Cassy. She paused for a moment and watched as Plum barked orders at a larger, gangly elf as he passed. 'I asked her to come here to give her something to do. There was no point in her waiting at home, Alphard does not need two house-elves. Well, we have never needed two, but there is even less sense when I am away. I had hoped she could be of use here. She likes having things to do and Merlin knows she likes to chat.'
Neville smiled gently. 'You're very fond of her.'
Cassy nodded absently, smiling a bit as Plum glanced over to check she was still watching. A frown flickered over her face for a moment, but as soon as Neville noticed the look was gone again and Cassy had returned to looking content. He stared only for a moment longer.
'We have a house-elf too,' he said. 'He's really old now, known him since I could remember. My Gran got him as a wedding present from my Granddad's parents. Apparently he was the son of their own house-elf. He doesn't speak much, just does chores and stuff.'
'Plum is one of a kind. She drives Draco up the wall with how relaxed she is with me. Not at all like Dobby and his family were, but I have had her since I was a child and as Alphard was not around too much there was never much he could do to change how she was,' said Cassy cheerfully.
'Why did you get Plum if you didn't need a second elf?' asked Neville curiously.
'Ah, well-' Cassy paused as the portrait swung aside and Harry stepped in. She turned to greet him, but her words fell flat at the sight of his pale face and deep frown. He looked back at her for a moment and then to Neville before moving to let the portrait swing shut again.
'Harry?' asked Neville tentatively.
'What happened?' enquired Cassy, fixing him with a soft frown.
Harry was silent for a moment before muttering: 'I'm not going to get murdered this year.'
'Pardon?' asked Cassy at the same time Neville blurted, 'What?'.
Instead of reply immediately, Harry moved to lean against the counter and ruffled his hair with one hand while looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully. Eventually, he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, exhaling loudly through his mouth.
'McGonagall called me in because she wanted to tell me something,' be began bitterly. 'Something someone could have told me a lot earlier in the year. People seem to think I don't have a right to know though, they think it might... upset me, but now I'm just angry because someone should have said something.
'McGonagall shut me in her office, made me take a seat in front of her desk and I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I had done wrong, but she began this preprepared speech about what's best for me and then...' Harry broke off for a moment, sliding his eyes over to Cassy and Neville. There was a certain burning in them, a distant look of contempt coupled with a much closer, larger feeling of confusion that was shown in the way Harry shifted dully where he stood, unable to stand still but too occupied to move coherently.
Cassy took a step closer, almost reaching out to put a hand on his arm, yet halted before it moved from her side. Harry had shut his eyes again, scrunching them this time and shaking his head.
His voice came out stronger than he looked. 'Luna was right. He escaped from Azkaban to try and kill me.'
Suffocating silence descended so quickly it was as if someone had flicked a switch.
Cassy could not think of what to say - if there was anything at all she could say. A chill settled through her bones that made them heavy, weighing her down as her mind whiled and soared distantly. She barely knew it was happening. What she could feel was a faint burn in her eyes and a painful throb of her heart as the words settled in. Then, as if receiving a sharp slap across her cheek, the shock gave way to simple grief and she found her tongue again. She turned to him, face neutral.
'I am sorry, Harry,' she said steadily. 'I am so sorry.'
There was nothing she could do about it; it was not her fault. She had not known. She did not know anything at all. That thought brought a slow clawing guilt.
Harry turned to her with a smile, strained, but honest. 'You have nothing to be sorry for.'
She held his eyes for a moment and then they dropped to the floor.
'I would have just liked someone to tell me before, you know? It's kind of important,' he said with a sigh.
The house-elves who had been closest had dispersed very quickly. They scampered to the other end of the kitchen, leaving Plum standing on her stall awkwardly, with drooped ears and her face angled away as to suggest she had heard nothing at all.
'So, what does this mean?' said Neville quietly. His face was crinkled in worry, eyes flicking between both his friends equally.
'Nothing,' said Harry firmly. 'It means nothing. There is no safer place than Hogwarts. So what if he got in once? He couldn't make it past the Fat Lady and no one was even in at the time. He could can't have thought it out well at all if he chose then to attack. He doesn't know what he's doing, but we do. There are dementors out there combing the grounds for him and teachers inside waiting for the drop of a hat to launch into action. Don't forget who our headmaster is either! Dumbledore is the only wizard Voldemort was ever afraid of. His right-hand-man will feel that fear a hundred times more. We'll be ready no matter what happens.'
Neville sniffed and nodded fiercely.
'Nice speech,' said Cassy softly; her arms were folded over her stomach.
'Thanks,' said Harry brightly, 'planned it out on the way down here.'
Cassy let out a puff of air and turned her face away to hide her slight smile. In return, Harry grinned and winked at Neville, making him laugh loudly in the silenced kitchen.
The cake Plum cooked was indeed delicious – if utterly sickly midway – and the three friends soon bid farewell to the house-elves. The little creatures waved enthusiastically, cheerfully bidding good-byes and calls to return soon and with that Cassy, Harry and Neville made their way to the great hall for lunch. They dropped down in spaces around Hermione, who had all ready began picking apart a sandwich.
There was no talk of Sirius Black over lunch, not even a few minutes to inform Hermione. Instead, they joked, teasing Hermione for her losses to Ron, whom she claimed she had come very close to beating on the last match before he called it a day. It was if the guilt and the shock of the news had vanished from their minds entirely with Harry's words.
The four trooped up to Professor Lupin's office towards the middle of lunch. Not a single member of staff seemed to look over at the empty seat at their table and enquire where he may have been, it was if none of them noticed at all. Harry had frowned in frustration at the sight, needing to speak to him before Oliver Wood pinned him down to talk once more of their upcoming Quidditch match. However, as they arrived it became very apparent he was not present. An empty goblet sat on his desk next to sprawling piles of paperwork, some of which had fluttered onto the floor at some point.
'I never pictured Professor Lupin to be the messy sort. I thought he was just poor,' said Neville.
'Neville!' reprimanded Hermione sharply.
'No, that's not – I didn't mean it – oh, whatever. You know exactly what I mean,' he said, shrugging his shoulders in defeat.
'He looks as if he left in a hurry,' said Harry.
'I hope he's okay,' fussed Hermione. 'He's been looking ill for a while now.'
'Has he?' asked Neville, raising his eyebrows as he flicked through Lupin's documents.
'I have noticed too,' said Cassy. She lifted the goblet off his desk and peered inside. It was completely empty, bar a crusty grey substance that strongly resembled ash in colour. She sniffed the goblet curiously.
'What on Earth are you doing?' said Harry, his face caught somewhere between laughter and disgust.
'Just – just wondering what potion he had taken,' she mumbled, cursing herself inwardly. The goblet was dropped back onto the desk. Cassy placed her hands on her hips as if she had done nothing odd at all and breathed deeply, trying to get rid the smell of burning plastic.
'What is it then?' he asked.
'I have no idea. It's not a normal pepper-up potion, I can tell you that.'
They prodded around for a few more minutes before Harry relented. Waving good-bye he descended towards the great hall for his meeting, looking dubious at the claims that the lesson might be cancelled if Professor Lupin was unwell.
'Knowing my luck...' he muttered as he went.
Cassy had learnt early in their friendship that Harry was a boy with extraordinary luck. He lived through scenarios that should have killed him and he continued on with life as though the events had not sunken into his brain at all. However, she was also aware of times when that luck turned unfavourably sour and today, she thought as she watched Professor Snape write in big, curling letters on the chalk board, was one of those days.
Professor Lupin was ill, or so they gathered when Professor Snape waltzed into the classroom without a simple message to dismiss them. The idea of asking him played on everyone's minds, yet with a few stares shared the idea was squashed because no one wanted to be the one under fire that early on in the lesson.
So when Harry strode in ten minutes late, he found himself rudely directed to the empty seat next to Hermione and docked ten points.
'But, Sir, I-'
'Quiet, Potter, you've disrupted the class enough all ready. Do your classmates a favour and hold your tongue so they don't become any more behind than you have already fallen,' came Professor Snape's sharp reply.
Harry did bite his tongue and pulled a sour face that Cassy could envision well in her head from where she sat in front of him.
Professor Snape whirled back to the blackboard for a moment to finish his writing and then swiftly waved his wand to the blank board next it. It flipped over to reveal a large image of a pained man, unclothed and hunched, with the small ridged of his spine drawn protruding from his back.
'I don't suppose any of you will recognise what this diagram depicts,' said Professor Snape slowly. 'It's a pity really...'
Hermione had her hand up already and Cassy had cocked her head to the side in interest. She knew what it was, it was not hard to imagine, especially with the looping runes that surrounded the man in a circle. There was no raised hand from her, however, and Hermione was waving her high enough for everyone to have seen.
Professor Snape never called on her though. He never called on her for the next question either, nor the next, but antagonised her with exceedingly dull enquiries that he knew she would be dying to answer. When she did, Hermione found herself almost in tears and a rather furious collection of Gryffindor's surrounding her.
'Where is Professor Lupin?' ground out Harry. His teeth were clenched tightly as he tried not to scowl openly at Professor Snape.
'We've been through this, Potter. Lupin is ill and cannot teach,' replied Professor Snape slowly, as if Harry had taken one to many bludgers to the head.
'And what's wrong with him?'
'Nothing too life threatening,' there was a slight pause and then, 'for him. And nothing that is your concern at this present moment. Ten points for inappropriate questions, Mr. Potter. Now...' Professor Snape continued on with the lesson, asking questions he did not accept answers for and rooting through Professor Lupin's marked papers, criticising them. Suddenly, he turned to the class, moments before the bell.
'So, I will ask again, what are the main ways to identify a werewolf? Still no answer? Well, this is very poor.'
It was not that no one had learnt anything, but rather they sat in an irritable silence, refusing to rise to his remarks any longer no matter what the form.
'Fine then. You will each write an essay on how to identify werewolves and kill them to be handed to me for Monday,' he said just before the bell rang and everyone shot up out of their seats. Slower to rise than the rest, Cassy packed her things away absent-mindedly, folding over page three-hundred and ninety-four.
'C'mon, Cassy,' whispered Neville hurriedly.
Cassy nodded at him, but moved her eyes back to the diagram on the board. Out the corner of her eye, she could see Professor Snape watching her intently.
This addressed a few things, even if not a lot happened. I just don't feel like the chapter reads like progression, but I needed to address how things are not running totally smoothly for Cassy as well as bring Remus' problem up and have McGonagall tell Harry like she went to in the book. It's a pretty basic chapter so I apologise for that.
Thank-you massively for the people who reviewed. I'm always delighted to have someone tell me they enjoy my story. I was always told I was hopeless at English by my teachers until I taught myself and I got my GCSE and A-Level grades. I shocked the lot of them, it was beautiful. However, I still get very anxious with every chapter I upload, so it means a lot to hear that people enjoy them.
I got a new laptop and I'm not used to Windows 8 at all. I keep opening things accidentally and it annoys me so much when I'm trying to write. I had issues reading this chapter as a lot of things were not added to my spell check and it kept changing the words. If I've missed some things it is probably because I was getting a little frustrated with the machine.
Thanks!
