Her first day back was a harsh slap of reality for Cassiopeia. She woke up with all of her school robes mysteriously ripped and stained, with all of her dorm mates feigning ignorance. She glared around at the girls who chatted amicably amongst themselves, completely ignoring her existence. With an irritated huff she dug through her spell books looking for something to mend and clean them.

By the time she managed to make one of the robes presentable she was running late. She hurried to the great hall, now mostly deserted, quickly gulped down as much coffee as humanly possible, scalding her mouth and throat, and practically ran to her transfiguration class. Despite her best efforts she was still five minutes late, Professor McGonagall frowned in disapproval and deducted 10 points from her.

She glowered but knew better than to respond to the Professor who still remembered very clearly her duelling incident the previous term. She quietly took her usual seat next to Daniel in the back of the classroom; he smiled grimly and gave her a conciliatory pat on the back.

Her day continued to get worse as seemingly anonymous students in the corridors cast jinxes on her, causing her to stumble, trip, or flinch with unexpected stings. It was always when the corridors were busy and when she couldn't identify the culprit. It seemed her classmates had finally realised that they couldn't stand toe to toe with her but could certainly hide in plain sight, causing little annoyances that would eventually build up. It was very Slytherin of them, and she had to admit, it was a clever development.

So she endured throughout the day, keeping an eye out for rogue spell casting and dodging a few poorly aimed jinxes. But despite her best efforts she never caught sight of the culprits. Due to her late start in the morning and the scant amounts of coffee, she arrived to detention that evening with Professor Snape in a state of near exhaustion, irritated and with a pounding headache. It was all she could do to refrain from snarling and snapping at the dour professor, who glared at her darkly when she entered.

Her detention started uneventfully, Snape had her scrubbing foul, smelly, sticky cauldrons for the night. The sound of her scrubbing echoed off the dungeon walls, mingling with the scratch of the professor's quill as he graded papers. He was silent and she had little inclination to start a conversation with her head of house. She just wanted to keep her head down and make it through her last few weeks of detention without incident. Scrubbing cauldrons however was not very mentally stimulating and Cassiopeia found her eyelids growing heavy with the day's exhaustion. She did not caffeinate enough in the morning and she was really starting to struggle. She tried to spend time mentally reciting information about circuitry and electrical plans to stay awake. She imagined how she could explain it to the odd muggle studies professor, and dreamed of having her music back.

Unfortunately her efforts to stay mentally distracted failed and it wasn't long until her mind started to wander. She thought about Ted and his family, their reluctance to acknowledge her and his careful distancing her from his name at the beginning of the Christmas holidays. She wondered if his mother had told him of her not threat, and if that was why they decided to go to Ibiza.

Thinking of Ted's family brought her to her own family. Andromeda never really spoke about her childhood, and Cassiopeia wondered how she was at school. She knew she had been in Slytherin; did she ever get bullied like Cassiopeia was? Was her mother ever bullied?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door, the quill scratching paused as Professor Snape looked up from his desk, irritation flashing across his face.

"Enter" He called lowly.

Mr Filch, the caretaker, poked his head into the classroom, looking equal parts gleeful and nervous. "Professor Snape sir, I found something that I think you should see."

"Can it not wait Filch?" Severus ground out irritably, glancing pointedly at the student currently serving detention, and the stack of papers on his desk.

"Some graffiti sir in the corridors, I thought you should take a look before I start cleaning it." Filch explained.

Professor Snape scowled and sighed, shooting a dark look at Cassiopeia. "Don't even think about moving or you will find your detentions extended. I will be back shortly" Cassiopeia nodded dutifully, and put on what she hoped was an innocent look.

"Of course professor." With a final warning glare, Professor Snape swept out of the classroom to follow the oily caretaker.

Cassiopeia sighed loudly and rubbed her eyes, taking care not to get cauldron gunk on her face, and continued her train of thought.

Could anyone really bully Bellatrix Lestrange? Was she always so ruthless or did she become that way after years of hardship at Hogwarts? She tried to imagine her mother sitting in classes, being polite to the professors, and trying to compete for the house cup. She thought of her father, he had always been so nonchalant around her, was he like that in school as well? Quietly superior to everyone around him?

Her eyes felt heavy. She rubbed them again.

Did Andromeda spend a lot of time with Bellatrix? Or Narcissa? Had they all been close as children? They must've been once, she decided. It seemed natural for siblings to be close; she witnessed it amongst her classmates. She wondered what it was like, to have a sibling. Well she did have Dora, but to grow up with a sibling. Would that have made things better or worse?

She blinked, her head nodding, and tried to focus on scrubbing. A loud yawn escaped her. Another blink, it was starting to become very difficult to stay awake, her limbs were starting to get heavy. She gritted her teeth and tried to scrub even harder to stay awake.

Did her mother ever find her bullies? Did she hurt them when she was with the Dark Lord? She pondered the types of spells she might have used, pushing her further down the dark train of thought. She thought of all the curses she had witnessed Bellatrix use. She blinked, this time taking several seconds to re-open her eyes. The Cruciatus, she definitely would have used that curse on someone that had hurt her. She swallowed thickly and closed her eyes as she remembered vividly the bodily effects of that curse.

She was back in an empty room in the Lestrange Manor; she was sprawled across the ground in the middle of the room, crying so hard she felt as if she couldn't breathe. The after effects of the Cruciatus curse left her limbs feeling sore as they trembled uncontrollably, spasming with small aftershocks of pain. She was finding it difficult to control her breathing, to ease the pain. Actually, she really couldn't breath, her mother was using a Suffocant curse on her, she felt the magic squeezing her lungs, causing her to gasp helplessly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, in futility. Her chest burned, and her eyes burned with tears as they bulged in panic.

Bellatrix released the curse suddenly, and gave her a blessed few seconds to catch her breath. Cassiopeia gulped down air desperately, before curling herself into a little ball.

"Tell me what you did Cassie. Tell me why mommy is angry."

Cassiopeia gasped a few more times, sucking in air greedily. "I'm s-s-sorry mother" she groaned before crying out in pain as Bellatrix shot a hex at her prone form, searing her skin.

"Don't make me repeat myself Cassie." Her voice was low; she was beginning to lose patience.

"I…" she sniffed but didn't dare rub the burn she knew was forming on her back. "I smiled at a mudblood. I didn't know mother, please, I didn't know." She cried. Her stomach cramped painfully and she heaved.

"And…" Bellatrix drawled, looking in disgust at the girl in front of her.

"And-" she heaved again, her whole body shaking with tremors, "And I spoke to it. The mudblood." She felt something thick and slimy move in her stomach. She heaved again, feeling whatever it was move partially up her digestive tract.

"And—" Her mother twirled her wand, her eyes wide, taking in her daughter, judging her for her transgression.

Hot tears burned a trail down Cassiopeia's face as her mouth filled with saliva; she heaved one more time, feeling the slimy object almost reach her throat this time.

"And I deserve to be punished" it came out as a hoarse whisper, moments before another large stomach cramp forced her to finally vomit whatever her mother had put in her stomach. She stared in horror as large, slimy, fat slugs fell out of her mouth, still writhing on the ground in front of her. She could barely gather air as more and more slugs erupted from her stomach, their slime filling her nasal passages, and taste tainting her taste buds, bringing on a fresh wave of dry heaving.

"I'm sorry mother, I wont disobey you again, I'm sorry" she repeated it like a mantra, whenever she had spare breath.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her. She curled away from it, turning in on herself, spewing a fresh wave of apologies. "I'm sorry mother, its all my fault, I deserve this punishment, please mother, I'm sorry." She gasped, trying to hide her face from her mother. Bellatrix hated it when she cried, she found it disgraceful, it was weak, and Lestrange's were not weak.

The hand shook her more forcefully, and jerked away, trying to control her breathing. If she didn't her mother would surely punish her more. She felt a hand on her face, and someone put something to her lips.

Spicy cinnamon caused her eyes to fly open, her heart raced, and energy flooded her system with alertness and alarm. She was in the dungeon in Hogwarts, and Professor Snape was kneeling in front of her, a holding a potion vial to her lips. Her eyes darted around wildly, trying to understand what was happening, searching for the danger, for her mother.

Professor Snape was alone, and she was slumped over the now mostly clean cauldrons, sitting on the dungeon floor, leaning against the wall. Whatever had been in the potion felt like lightening through her veins, like the best caffeine rush that she had ever experienced, she was alert, awake, and very aware of the potions master in front of her.

His eyes were searching, his eyebrows were pinched slightly, and he was frowning. She swallowed, finding her throat scratchy and raw. It took her too long to realise what had happened, and when she did she blushed deeply and hid behind her hair. She must have fallen asleep, and she had a nightmare, of her mother. A seemingly very vocal nightmare that the professor had witnessed. She anxiously fiddled with her silver bracelet, now resting next to Constance's friendship bracelet in total mortification.

She sat up straighter, and began scrubbing the cauldrons with renewed vigour that came mostly from the potion he gave her.

"I am so sorry professor, please forgive me. I tried to stay awake, ill stay late and make sure these are finished" she busied herself with work and tried to hide from the man in front of her. He remained silent, studying the girl warily.

She scrubbed the cauldrons, trying to drown her mortification with the manual labour, aggressively attacking the goo burned onto the cauldron. Professor Snape nodded once sharply and went back to his desk, picking up a piece of paper, the sound of his quill scratching filling the room, accompanying the sounds of her scrubber pad on the metal.

"If you wish to talk about it, by all means." He said it so quietly she almost didn't hear him. He never once paused in his grading, scratching out a particular mistake with a certain vigour that accompanied a small scowl.

She paused and blushed again, and didn't respond, instead grabbed the next cauldron. She only had a half dozen left before she could go back to her dorm. Shame burned through her gut as she thought about her nightmare. It was a memory, from when she had accompanied her mother to Diagon Alley. It was about a year before she met the Weasleys, before she had any real contact with non-death eaters, she had been only five years old. She was made the mistake to smile at another girl in the shop her mother was in. The girl had been nice, and when she said hello, Cassiopeia responded immediately. She didn't know at the time what a mudblood is, and she certainly hadn't known that the girl was one of them. It was a lesson she learned very quickly after that incident. Her stomach twisted as she remembered the feeling of the slugs climbing up her throat, squirming and wriggling for freedom. She remembered laying on the ground, heaving and nauseous, and watching them slip away, leaving a trail of slime behind them.

She wondered about the Professor. He didn't seem angry that she fell asleep during detention. He also didn't seem mocking like her house mates had been. He wasn't horrified like Andromeda had been. And there was no pity on his face, like the Weasley's had when they witnessed one of her nightmares. He seemed very calm about it, detached even. She thought about his face when she woke up, she analysed the memory, and glanced up at him under her hair, quickly so he wouldn't notice. He was frowning, and his eyebrows were pinched slightly as he stared down at the paper in front of him, obviously unimpressed with whatever the poor student had written and submitted. His reaction to her nightmares confused her, it didn't make sense, but then her head of house did very little that made sense to her.

Fifteen minutes passed in silence after his quiet statement. She scrubbed and he graded, she pondered her options, her mind blessedly clear and alert from whatever he had given her. It was spicy, like cinnamon and peppermint. She was definitely a fan. Finally she made a decision that she hoped she wouldn't regret.

"I have nightmares." She whispered it so quietly she wondered if he could even hear her talk. His quill paused momentarily, and for a beat she waited for him to say something. Instead his quill continued on its journey. She let out the breath she didn't realise she had been holding. She looked up at him, his eyes were still trained on the paper in front of him, but his head was tilted in her direction. He was listening, if she wanted to talk, but he wouldn't interrupt her.

"Sometimes I cry out." The quill scratching paused once more, "I have woken up my dorm mates a few times, something that is not very much appreciated."

She went back to scrubbing the cauldrons, only two left to finish. She couldn't help but to notice the silver of her bracelet on her scrubbing hand gleamed mockingly against the black metal backdrop of the cauldron. A constant reminder of her mother's presence in her life. Of her control, of her power, she was never going to be free from her, not truly.

"There are ways to silence your outbursts." Professor Snape finally muttered, still grading papers.

She nodded, scrubbing her last cauldron. "I cast the silencing charm every night before bed." She wished her tape player functioned at Hogwarts, what she really needed was to get lost in some music, to alleviate her dark thoughts. Maybe she would try the wizarding wireless, out of sheer desperation.

"I think I am done for tonight professor." She said as she finished off her last cauldron. Professor Snape finally glanced up at the desk, nodding curtly as he examined the now gleaming cauldron closely.

"Indeed. 5 points to Slytherin for mastering a 3rd year spell Miss Tonks. That will be all for tonight." He inclined his head towards the door, signalling her dismissal.

"Until tomorrow sir," she murmured before letting herself out of the classroom. She paused along the way back to the common room to lean against a wall and let out a sigh of relief, not only had the professor not been angry she fell asleep, he didn't seem too cross about her nightmare. Even more surprising was his reward for her desperate solution to silence herself, and the relief she felt in confiding, at least a little bit, in someone who didn't respond in pity or horror.

She continued back to the common room, the effects of whatever potion she had sampled still pulsing through her system. She didn't know what it was, but she was determined to find out, because she definitely wanted more of it.

That night she lay in bed, thinking about her earlier nightmare. Her silencing charm had already been cast, and she was safe from alerting others should any more nightmares descend during the night. It was a memory she had relived during her earlier nap, and only part of it. She closed her eyes and remembered that day, her stomach twisting at the memory of the slugs crawling up her windpipe.

Her mother had left her alone for a few moments that seemed to last an eternity, waiting for her lesson to take hold in her daughters mind. When her heaving finally stopped and she settled onto the ground, curled up and shaking, Bellatrix finally relented. She cleaned up the mess, incinerating the few slugs that survived their ordeal, before gathering her daughter up in her arms. She shushed the crying, shivering girl, and gently wiped tears and bile from her face.

"You need to learn Cassiopeia, you know why I do this." She crooned to the girl, who had her face buried in her mother's neck.

"You punish me to protect me," the girl sniffed, her words muffled by her mother's robes.

"You are a pure-blooded witch, from two of the oldest, most powerful family lines. You are superior to everyone else in every way, you will have power and influence beyond anything most can even dream of. Mudbloods and Blood Traitors want to take that from you Cassie."

"I didn't know mother, please forgive me" her tears had dried up, and her stomach cramps were beginning to ease.

"Today it was just a foolish girl, but what if it had been an Order member? Or Albus Dumbledore?" Bellatrix voice turned dark as she discussed their enemies.

Cassiopeia shivered in her mother's arms, thinking about what fate would befall her should she ever be unlucky enough to meet a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

"Well daughter?" her hands dug into Cassiopeias shoulder as she pulled her daughter out of her embrace to look her in the eyes.

"Albus Dumbledore wages war on the Dark Lord and all that is pure and right. He would torture me beyond anything I could imagine, he would rip open my mind to pry my secrets, and crush me under his boot so him and his Order could succeed in their mission" she intoned hollowly, fear flashing in her eyes. Her mother always used Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix to scare her. She wondered if they were even real people, or if they were stories conjured by her mother to scare people. She had seen blood traitors before, but had never witnessed the fabled Albus Dumbledore or the Order of the Phoenix.

But if half of the stories about the man and his army were true, then she dearly wished to never ever meet him.

Bellatrix picked up the girl, ignoring the cry of pain as her daughters cursed muscles protested. "You must learn from your mistakes daughter, so you can be stronger. Lestrange's are not weak, and you are not going to be an exception." She growled, carrying her to her bedroom.

A few tears fell from Cassiopeia's eyes as she curled up in her dorm room bed, remembering her mothers gentle touch, and her lessons. She knew now that she was wrong about the great mudblood conspiracy, and she had been wrong about Albus Dumbledore and blood traitors like the Weasleys.

Bellatrix had tucked her into bed that night, murmuring in solidarity with the girls lingering pains, "I know, I know it hurts, just breathe." She had crooned softly, brushing back the girls hair. Cassiopeia clung to the other side of her mother, the other face who visited her dreams and not nightmares, and cried.

She cried because sometimes she missed her mother. She cried because moments like this, in the dark of the night, in her loneliest hours, she acknowledged her deepest, most shameful secret. Cassiopeia cried because despite everything, a small part of her loved her mother.

Xxxx

Thursday finally arrived and Cassiopeia was practically counting down the minutes until she could attend her extra curricular class with Professor Quirrell. After dinner she found herself waiting anxiously outside his classroom, nearly thirty minutes early. She tried to pass the time reading from a muggle book about circuits Ted had gotten her for Christmas, but found she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't wait to share her newfound knowledge with Professor Quirrell, to explain to him the subtle details of how electrical current travelled. She had meticulously mapped out the correct electrical map for her tape deck, she even made a colour coded diagram to show the older professor of the exact flow of electricity. Hopefully with that information he could try and replicate the current with magical energy.

She hesitantly put her ear to the door, wondering if he was working in his office. She hadn't seen him at dinner earlier in the evening, and she was curious if he was hidden away, distracted by research. She found it very odd that Professor Quirrell was teaching muggle studies at Hogwarts, when he could be working for the ministry, or anywhere else doing research. He was brilliant, theoretically talented, even she could see that and she knew very little. He seemed wasted at Hogwarts, teaching a course many found laughably easy.

Of course, she was glad he was wasting his talent, because it was providing her another opportunity to learn, to grow in her own skills, and to help her regain her sense of equilibrium in the form of music. She couldnt wait, she impatiently knocked on his office door, curious to see whether he was hiding away.

She heard a clatter of what sounded suspiciously like a heavy book fall to the floor and the tell tale sound of china clicking forcefully before a startled, "come in!" shouted from behind the door. She poked her head in, pleased to see her assumptions were mostly correct, she had startled him from his reverie, a puddle of spilled tea across the desk acting as evidence. He was mopping it up hastily with his wand, taking care not to get any of the offending liquid on any of the numerous books and papers across his desk.

"O-oh, Miss Tonks. Is it already 7?" he asked, stuttering slightly in surprise as he searched his robes for a pocket watch. Cassiopeia shook her head, a small smile gracing her face as she took in the frazzled state of her professor.

"Er, no. I am actually a little early professor," she ducked her head, attempting to look at least a little bashful over her eagerness. Especially as she saw what looked like the remains of a half eaten dinner still on his desk. "I can come back if you like? I can catch up on some reading or…" she trailed off, suddenly embarrassed. She didn't think she'd actually interrupt his dinner, she just assumed that when she didn't see him in the great hall, that he mustve eaten earlier.

He waved his hand, causing his plate and its half eaten contents to disappear in a puff of smoke, leaving no evidence that it was ever there. "Seeing as your already here, we may as well begin, I have been giving this conundrum a great deal of thought over the break, and I have a few ideas I would like to try. Lets go over your research progress first…" Professor Quirrell always started his lectures self conscious, uncertain of his audience's attention, but he always settled once he got lost in his train of thought.

Cassiopeia appreciated this in the man, and eagerly pulled out her notebook brimming with colour coded notes and charts, beginning her own lecture on electrical currents.

The weeks passed, she had finished her detentions with Professor Snape. He warned her again on their last evening to stay out of trouble and to refrain from attacking her fellow students, especially housemates. He never brought up her nightmares again, something which she was thankful for.

Cassiopeia and Professor Quirrell had made little progress in their research, once Quirrell had understood the physics behind electricity, he had some small successes for power the tape player in the short term, lasting a few seconds at best, but they hadn't managed to make it last more than a short burst of power.

Despite the setbacks, Cassiopeia was determined not be put out about it. Progress was progress, and it was a difficult task, and their small successes seemed to spur Professor Quirrell on further, his frustration leading to more and more complicated spell work.

She could barely follow his spell diagramming, but she tried her best to write up a report on what they had tried so far in the research project, dutifully making copies and making sure the interested parties allowing her to undertake the research received theirs. Her course load also increased slightly, meaning she began spending more and more time in the library, in the presence of either Constance or Daniel for study partners. The petty spell casting from presumed housemates continued, but with her shield charm becoming stronger and stronger from the constant use, they were only causing minor annoyances.

As winter turned into spring, a strain of the flu began making its way throughout the castle. Constance was stricken with it first, and she in turn passed it onto Cassiopeia. And so she found herself with a stuffed head that felt double the size it should be, a pounding headache, and exhaustion that felt entirely unrelated from her normal lack of sleep. In fact Cassiopeia had slept more than she might have ever slept in her life over the course of the illness, and still found herself run down. Constance suffered with her, being the bringer of the virus to begin with, but she had relented and went to the hospital wing for some potions to clear everything up. Cassiopeia was a bit more stubborn, and was determined to see the sickness out naturally, to beat it unassisted. She had no idea quite where this stubbornness came from, but taking the easy option out seemed out of the question. She held out for a few days until Professor McGonagall threatened her with the loss of house points if she did not see herself immediately to the hospital wing. It was an order that was on the heels of a combined sneezing and coughing fit that had lasted no less than fifteen seconds, very loudly, in the middle of the Professor's sentence.

So she reluctantly sat on a bed in the hospital wing, surrounded by other students who were infected with the illness, and waited slightly impatiently for the nurse to reach her. Madam Pomfrey, the nurse, took one look at her pitiful form and deep bags under her eyes and ordered her to stay the night, in order to properly rest. Cassiopeia tried to protest, but was met with the stubborn wall of will that was the school nurse. So she reluctantly took her first potion, a decongestant that tasted vile but felt like heaven. She felt her airways clearing and her head shrinking and vowed to never take the ability to breathe out of both nostrils for granted. The second potion was a dreamless sleep potion, which knocked her out soundly within seconds of swallowing, cutting her joy over her rekindled ability to breathe short.

When she awoke she felt heavy, groggy, and so much better than she remembered feeling anytime in her life. She yawned loudly, stretched leisurely against the white starched sheets of the hospital wing, and wondered over the feeling of being well rested. Her yawn drew the attention of the nurse, who bustled over and poured her another potion, "sixteen hours you've been asleep." She stated matter of factly, "its no wonder you were feeling so awful, try going to bed earlier in the future." She handed the girl a vial of a red, spicy smelling potion.

"Go on, drink this and you'll be free to go. Quick now." Cassiopeia's eyebrows raised as she understood the womans words. She didn't think she had ever slept more than six hours, let alone sixteen at any one time. It felt wonderful. She mentally made a note to look into the dreamless sleep potion again in the future.

She sat up slowly, yawning again, before accepting the next potion. So far the nurse hadn't don't wrong by her, but she still sniffed it suspiciously. "Pepper up potion." Madame Pomfrey remarked. Cassiopeia took a hesitant sip, and a familiar cinnamon spice exploded over the taste buds and shot through her body like electricity. It was the potion Professor Snape had given her when she took her impromptu nap during her detention. She eagerly finished the drink, shivering as the effects started tingling across her limbs pleasantly. She definitely needed to have a supply of this potion as well.

Her usual state of exhaustion and over caffeinated soon overtook her brief spell as a normal, well-rested human being. One early morning in April Cassiopeia woke up to an abnormally large pile of letters and parcels at the breakfast table. So taken aback it took her longer than it really should have to remember what day it was. She was 12. She rarely received post at the school, only occasionally writing to her Aunt Narcissa at the insistence of Andromeda. What was abnormal for her was a reasonable amount of post for most of the other students; because of this nobody in the Great Hall took any notice. She briefly examined the letters and parcels; one was from Mrs and Mr Weasley and contained a selection of her favourite biscuits and a warm letter. A wistful smile found its way to her face as she read the letter from the Weasleys, a familiar warmth blooming in her chest as she read their words. She never seemed to find time to speak to any of the Weasley children in the school, Bill being a few years too old to be seen with a lowly first year, and with Charlie always busy with his friends.

The second letter was from Andromeda and Ted, it wished her well, and promised that she would receive her presents at her party during the upcoming Easter holidays. She frowned, her eyes lingering on the promised party. She had classmates in the muggle world who had birthday parties (that she was very notably never invited to), but had never had one herself. Her parents took different approaches to celebrating her birthday growing up, her father would squeeze her shoulder and giver her a brief nod before wandering off to do whatever it was in his free time, leaving her in piece. Her mother would spend part of the day with her, telling her stories about her family history, blood purity, and in later years, tales about the Dark Lord, and warnings about his enemies. She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, trying to clear her head of her parents as an even more familiar hollowness filled her chest at the thought of them. Her birthdays had never been overtly unpleasant with her parents, but they had neither been anything special.

The last parcel was from her Aunt Narcissa, sending best wishes on behalf of her and her husband, and requesting again for them to catch up. She suggested they could have a girl's day out, for her birthday. Cassiopeia wrinkled her nose in slight distaste as she thought of what could possibly go into a girl's day out, but weighed the offer in her mind. An idea had been slowly forming in her head since she had taken ill earlier in the term, it was a potential plan for achieving a supply of certain items that she'd rather not have the Tonks know about, or be financially responsible for. It was a plan that needed Narcissa's help, and she wondered if a birthday day out might be the perfect opportunity to pursue it. She would think more on it when she had time, but the Great Hall was slowly filling with students, and one in particular was trying to catch her attention. She hid the parcels away in her bag before making her way over to Constance, who had been waving wildly at her for the better part of a few minutes. She almost came to regret this decision as she learned what her friend wanted to ask her.

There were a few brief days of sunshine that gave the illusion of warmth as the Easter holidays approached, and Constance very stubbornly dragged Cassiopeia and Daniel outside to bask in the very cold sunshine by the lake. Constance was dressed in only a short sleeve shirt, her chattering teeth and goose pimples the only thing betraying her true body temperature, while Daniel and Cassiopeia stayed in the warmth of their winter robes, shaking their heads at their friends stubbornness. So absorbed in the absurdity of her friends wish for sunshine, Cassiopeia had quickly forgotten what day it was until her cousin loudly crashed their impromptu gathering, "Oi! Cass! Why are you out here in the freezing cold!? I've been looking for you everywhere!" She shouted, her hair a bright electric blue, matching her equally appallingly bright wardrobe choices.

Constance and Daniel paused their game of checkers in surprise as Nymphadora sat down heavily in their group, heaving an exaggerated sigh as she sat down and set a large basket next to the three children.

"Didn't think you'd get away without any celebrations did you? Its not everyday its your birthday!"

Cassiopeia blinked. She hadn't given the idea of celebrations much thought as Constance had accosted her, eagerly dragging her to bask in the cold Scottish sunshine. Then she got embroiled in a competitive game of checkers, lost, and then watched the other two continue their board game battle.

Daniel looked at her, hurt crossing his face, "were you really not going to tell us Cass?" he asked, his voice small.

Constance looked equally upset, "but we didn't get you anything? Why didn't you mention something!" she rubbed her arms subconsciously, trying to simulate the warmth that was missing from the air.

"I—" she paused, trying to figure out what to say. She had only ever looked forward to one birthday before, her 11th birthday because it represented the end of her muggle world ordeal. Other than that, it was just a day that happened, occasionally met with some acknowledgement from her parents, when she was young.

"Well, fortunately for you, mom wrote a few days ago and warned that you might try and ignore such a day, and helped me plan this." Nymphadora opened the basket to reveal a spread of cakes, sweets, and flasks of chilled pumpkin juice. "I raided the school kitchens and put this together for you, so we could have our own little party." Dora beamed in pride as she revealed her goodies, and Cassiopeia was deeply touched with her efforts.

"Thanks Dora," she said it quietly, giving the girl a small smile. Constance and Daniel complained a few more times, still a little hurt that she hadn't planned to tell them, but she was able to console them both with promises to celebrate sometime over the holiday with them.

Dora flagged over a few of her braver friends who were tentatively venturing outside to see the sun for the first time in months, and soon her little gathering of three grew into a slightly larger group of students, all snacking on the desserts provided by Dora's seemingly bottomless basket.

Cassie sat quietly, staring fondly at those around her, her few friends mingling with acquaintances, all talking and laughing, bemoaning the lack of warmth from the weather, and chatting about coursework, upcoming holiday plans, and favourite desserts. She sighed, revelling in the feeling of belonging that she was almost becoming accustomed to, it was strange but she decided it was ultimately a good feeling.

A/N anyone else think about how disgusting puking slugs would be. Like border line traumatising? Sorry for taking a while between chapters, I promise this is still receiving about 90% of my effort and thoughts (sorry Magpie folks...), but I am honestly finding it a bit difficult to write these early years. Most of my ideas and outlining deals with themes for a slighter older child/ teenager. Things will get super juicy in her about fourth and fifth years onwards. Before then, its all a bit thin on the ground in my mind. Also shoutout to brnicholas for their super insightful reviews and conversation! They rightly pointed out I messed up the timeline a bit, making this not technically cannon, and instead cannonish. Ive tried to fix it, but honestly upon reflection I got all my years mixed up from births, not thinking about the time of year people were born in relation to when school starts. I also made a few mistakes in the first part of this series where I mention Cassiopeia was older than she is. I will eventually do a rewrite to fix this, but here is a rough timeline (where ive made note of some mistakes ive made, there is bound to be more... /line/105479). Again reviews really help me keep writing, and especially ones that are insightful or ask questions really help me. I dont really have anyone to talk to about this story irl, so its all happening just in my head, its always nice to chat to people about it! And those chats help me figure out what makes sense and what doesnt! different perspectives and all that!

Anyways, enjoy!

Tibys