C. M. Black: Tears of a Phoenix

Chapter X: Popular support

The following Saturday brought clear skies and a crispness that had everyone dressed in jumpers with scarves and gloves ready at their side during the late breakfast. The only exception was Harry, who adorned a red and gold jersey with a pair of goggles slung around his neck. Resting at his side was his Firebolt, clipped and polished, ready for the arduous day ahead.

'Nearly fifty people have signed up,' he moaned, reading over the try-out list he had pinned to the common room notice board on Monday. 'I don't get it.'

Hermione scoffed loudly. 'You've never been more fanciable, have you?'

Cassy raised an eyebrow and Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. Further down the table, Ron turned. He was also dressed in his Quidditch robes, although Harry had already pulled him aside to say there were no promises when building his new team.

'Come on, now. You're the Chosen One; you stuck to your beliefs last year despite Umbridge and the Ministry; you confronted Voldemort for a fifth time in your life and it helps that you've grown almost a foot over summer,' Hermione reeled off as she mopped up the remainder of her breakfast with a slice of toast.

The height increase was certainly Cassy's favourite development.

'I'm tall,' came a mumble down the table.

Cassy glanced to see Ron scowling down at his own breakfast. She raised an eyebrow again.

'You must have noticed,' said Hermione.

'I noticed people have been staring, but I just thought…' he trailed off and Hermione sighed.

Ron cleared his throat noisily. 'Not liking the competition, Cassy?'

She turned at his teasing words and fixed a fake stiff smile on her face which had his teasing smirk drop from his lips within the second. Inwardly laughing already, she said, 'Careful now, Ronald, it almost sounds as though you are insinuating Harry is only with me because I was the only available option.'

The colour dropped from his face and he stuttered. Her smile grew more severe and Harry laughed.

'Cassy, that's cruel. Stop joking about or else I'll blame you if he doesn't do well in the trials.' His pointed stare was ruined by his playful grin.

Cassy smirked and said, 'I apologise, Ron. Honestly, though, I thought you might be sick just then.'

'Honestly yourself, woman! I thought you were about to skin me,' he huffed with a smile. 'Don't fancy using that look on Percy, do you? He's still not come home and I reckon that could make him come crawling back.'

Neville did not laugh at the threat like Cassy and Harry did. Instead, he frowned. 'He's still not come home, even though the Ministry admitted they were wrong?'

'No,' said Ron, scowling. The smile shattered instantly. 'He's probably too proud, the idiot. He doesn't realise that if he just came home then Mum and Dad would welcome him without a thought.'

Hermione pursed her lips as the screeching of the owls rang out overhead. They swooped in through the high open windows, carrying the huge array of parcels and papers they always brought with them. A barn owl settled in front of them with a parcel addressed to Harry. His new potion book had finally arrived, but his face spoke volumes about his reluctance to use it, in fact, his expression suggested he had forgotten he had even ordered it.

Several rolled up newspapers fell into the narrow alley between their meals. Tied with string and wound tightly, it was impossible to tell what story had made the cover, but Cassy unravelled it with the same bout of anticipation she had had for the last week. She unfurled it and tried not to smirk when she saw her own face coolly staring back at her, her head angled away as though something most interesting was occurring outside of the shot. Beside her photographed-self was her father, tall and patiently watching the same spectacle she had spotted on the platform at the time of the photograph too. Her interview had made mention on the front page:

There has been much speculation in the last few weeks over what Sirius Black intended to do with his new found freedom and the surely substantial benefits from the Ministry now he has been cleared of all charges against him. It seems that, keen to keep his freedom and bad-boy loner persona, he has passed his political right as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight to his only child and daughter, Cassiopeia Black, aged sixteen. Spotted on September 1st on Platform 9 ¾ wearing a black band of personal oath to the family, Rita Skeeter has managed to get an exclusive and personal interview with the soon to be Lady Black about this huge responsibility she will accept on her young shoulders in just two months' time on her seventeenth birthday.

Page four revealed even more of the interview. Skeeter had, thankfully, painted Cassy to be some sort of martyr in the making, a very favourable character reference shone through in her quick-quill words and Cassy read on with the complete expectancy that a hidden slight would soon be revealed. Instead, she found a thoroughly considered discussion on Cassy's "fierce" equality stance on the children of Death Eaters and non-Death Eaters. She had stressed the need to consider both equally, not to consider one more likely than the other and gave Pettigrew as an example of the unsuspecting villain, which Skeeter had adored. She had done what Cassy had asked and had actually written what Cassy had said. For once, she had taken her completely seriously.

She glanced up.

'Cassy,' breathed Hermione. 'What is this?'

'I have some things I needed to be said and Skeeter made herself available to me,' she said simply.

'Skeeter,' repeated Harry and pulled Cassy's paper aside to see. He had stopped his subscription to the Daily Prophet on the basis that he was tired of seeing his face printed every day, often with photographs taken at the school that must have been sold on by students. He stared down, mouth open in horror. 'You gave an interview to Skeeter?'

'You have before, remember,' she said as she scanned down the page.

Bold and fearless, the young woman detailed her plans to take the Ministry by storm in the coming months. Ambitiously, she states she intends to force transparency of the government in the new war. She urges people to take responsibility for themselves and their families, stating 'fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. If you are afraid now, you will only be more so when the real battle begins'. Perhaps fuelled by youthful courage and idealism, Black does not see the perspective of those who are desperate to protect their families. Those who remember the war will know of the terror shaking their bones at every sound and the pain of listening to the growing fatalities each day, yet everyone must remember that Britain was saved that day by a boy of just eighteen-months old. This Chosen One is older now and perhaps it is time for the younger generation to have their voice in this war if we are to follow Harry Potter into battle against You-Know-Who.

'Yes,' he exclaimed, 'but it wasn't my idea.'

Cassy ignored him. Harry could not be cross with her for her outing her allegiance to him publicly, nor for her branding herself as a person at the forefront of the upcoming war both physically and politically. After all, he had done both himself when he had run his version of events the year before through exactly the same woman. It was not as though she had done it to brag either. In fact, it was more of an easy medium to make herself of use quicker than she otherwise could have ever managed. The Daily Prophet was the most popular, most read newspaper in wizarding Britain, the amount of people who would see the article would be vast and even if they did not read it wholly they would know that Cassy had acquired the title of the next Head of House; it meant important people would be aware of her. She was in the process of edging herself onto the public platform and making herself and her power known. More than that, though, it opened an avenue for discussion. She was officially a rising public figure now, she had firmly established her intent through her small quips and subtle suggestions throughout the interview that made her aim obvious – she wanted to criticise the Ministry of Magic and she wanted to make people aware of the war in a way they had failed for a whole year to do so. All she had to do was wait for two more months and she could officially begin a long onslaught of carefully crafted insults whilst simultaneously promoting action in the war. It would be nearly impossible to get the traction on such actions if she did not promote herself early and publicly. She told them exactly that.

Harry did not even appear remotely surprised. He gazed at her from the corner of his eye, nodding thoughtfully and set his jaw in a firm, determined manner before a smirk pulled at his lips.

Hermione reluctantly nodded. 'How are you planning on doing that and your NEWTs?' she asked.

Cassy cast her a long, sideways stare. She intended to make her foothold in the world at age seventeen and Hermione's concern was whether or not Cassy could maintain her outstanding grades, but yes, she mentally answered, she certainly could.

'If I want to be even remotely successful in life I must be politically and socially commanding and be intellectually greater than those around me,' she replied simply.

'That's a little more than "remotely" successful,' muttered Neville, a single eyebrow was raised, but he could not help but look amused at the simplicity she spoke of. She met it with a smile.

By the time they vacated the Great Hall, many pairs of curious and sometimes furious eyes turned to watch the dark-haired teen leave. No words were exchanged, no one dared approach her, but it was easy to tell without looking or listening too hard that a great deal of people had read the article.

There was a reprieve of attention when they entered the grounds of the Quidditch stadium. Cassy gave Harry a quick kiss when they parted ways. Harry and Ron continued inside towards the field and Cassy, Neville, and Hermione turned up towards the wooden staircases to the stands. Strangely enough, the benches were not empty as normal. When they had been previously to watch the try-outs, though Harry's position had never been disputed, or practises there were only very few bodies to accompany their watch. This time, however, at least three dozen people had already claimed seats around the pitch.

Among the scattered groups a single hand raised. A mass of scraggly, dirty-blonde hair fluttered in the light autumn wind beneath a brightly knitted hat. Luna waved and had it not been for the strange, mismatched clothing it would have been difficult to discern it was her at all. Despite the mild weather, she was bundled in thick knitwear and a long scarf wrapped twice around her neck and still trailed along her lap and into the floor below. No one was sat anywhere near her. The vicinity was entirely empty.

'Good morning, Luna,' greeted Neville brightly. He bounded to her side with more enthusiasm than he would care to admit. 'Nice scarf, but it's not that cold.'

'When I woke up this morning, I looked out of Ravenclaw Tower and saw a cloud shaped like a merperson with a trident. Normally a cloud like a merperson would be a good sign, because they're excellent singers, you know, and so it would be a good day for celebration, but tridents mean a chill is coming,' she explained with a smile.

Cassy did not even both to question how Luna worked that out and nor did she bother to look to the sky as Neville did to try and spot the supposed cloud.

'Most people get caught unaware because they fail to take notice of the clouds. Daddy saw one shaped like a lion last year, that's when he knew Rufus Scrimgeour would become the next Minister of Magic,' continued Luna.

Hermione sighed heavily beside Cassy.

On the pitch, the sheer volume of applicants became apparent. It appeared as though not only those who had signed up for practise had appeared for a quick count revealed at there would be an excess of seventy people and several friends amongst the ranks. At the very front and facing the group was Harry. In the first row was the visible head of Ron, who stood tall among the rest, and a smaller, blond boy that must have been Seamus stood beside him. Then there was Dean, who was even more visible than Ron with his even greater height, and although she could not be seen it was very likely Ginny was on his other side. A few more familiar faces were in the crowd such as Katie Bell; the Creevey brothers, who were practically vibrating in excitement; unfortunately even McLaggen had appeared to try his hand at the sport.

It was difficult to tell from such a distance, but Cassy was not convinced everyone who was on the pitch was even a Gryffindor. Nearly the whole house would have needed to have signed up for there to be that many hopefuls and she knew for a fact that there were many of them in the stands already.

Within minutes, Harry seemed to have come to the same conclusion Cassy had and a large group of giggling students were sent from the pitch without so much as mounting their brooms. They joined the stands as the remaining people were split into groups of ten and Harry with a projected voice ordered them to fly a lap around the pitch. Everyone but the first group piled into the stands to eagerly await their call, which unfortunately meant the small area of peace that Luna had carved with her strange appearance was invaded by hopefuls unwilling to travel too far from a staircase.

'Group four!' said Ginny as she threw herself down on Neville's right. 'You'd think I'd be in group one with how close I was.'

'I think he's grouped all the really young kids together,' said Dean as he took a seat beside his girlfriend. 'At least two of them are first years hoping no one will notice.'

Seamus sat beside him and Ron avoided the couple by settling beside Hermione. High-pitched giggles broke out behind them as a group of noisy girls filed in a few rows farther back. Ginny cast them a scathing frown over her shoulder.

'I don't know why they're bothering to try out. They don't even like Quidditch,' she said. 'All Romilda and Helena do is talk about Harry.'

Cassy kept her eyes fixed ahead as the first group set off. Only one managed to fly around the stadium; everyone else dropped to the floor at various stages with pathetic dives and rolls which were hardly even interesting because of how awfully slow they were travelling. Group two were soon called down and Dean and Seamus both stood.

When they set off, Vane sighed loudly. 'He's just so handsome, isn't he? Not to mention humble. The people he hangs out with, well, he could do so much better than them. I don't have his patience either. I would have just told all of those kids to get off the pitch the moment I saw them.'

If Cassy were to be honest with herself, she did not have the instinctual issue most girls had with someone else being interested in her boyfriend. Harry was Harry, of course she saw the appeal in that, but she was also confident that he had no interest in anyone but her. He was a walking mess around Cho Chang, unable to formulate proper sentences or avoid flushing a deep red in her presence. He had become very jealous around Stephen because of his mere friendship with Cassy the year before and she remained his first contact if anything was needed or had gone wrong; they were all little telling signs she had reflected upon and learnt since their relationship began eight months prior. He visibly had no interest in anyone else, so Cassy did not feel remotely insecure by the mutterings of the younger Gryffindor behind her. Furthermore, if he did leave her for someone, it would not be Romilda Vane. Harry hated high maintenance people and often commented on how independent Cassy was, though that alternated between praise and annoyance.

She watched the other girl's back as she left the stands.

When on the pitch, the large group of girls were huddled so close together that if they were to even attempt to mount their brooms there was a very possible cause for injury.

'Right,' said Harry. 'Thank-you for trying out, everyone.'

With those simple words, the group of girls fell into hysterical laughter.

Dean and Seamus had just managed to climb the staircase when Harry dismissed the group without even allowing them to attempt a lap.

'Group four!' shouted Harry.

Ginny and Ron stood. Ginny smirked, her jaw set in determination. Rising much slower than his sister, Ron stumbled past. Their calls of 'good luck' seemed to fall on deaf ears, a pallor tone had taken over his skin, a slight sheen of sweat glistened in the sun on his forehead. It hardly seemed possible that he could look even sicklier than he had before his matches last year, but somehow he managed it. Perhaps it was the pressure of having a friend as his captain had made the reality of not succeeding all the worse, or perhaps it was the sheer volume of people who had turned out to hear his possible failure this time that made his anxiety peak. Whatever it was, it blinded him to the loathed sight of Ginny and Dean's good luck kiss.

'You would think he would have learnt last year that he's not actually bad at the sport,' muttered Cassy.

'He'll be fine,' said Hermione. 'It's just flying around the pitch.'

'I could outfly him,' came a voice. Further down the row, the tall figure of McLaggen was feet from them with a seasoned smirk on his face. Hermione sighed heavily and Cassy cast him a disinterested glance before she turned her eyes back to her friends' performances down on the pitch. Everyone else turned in resentment. They had not met the delight that was Cormac McLaggen.

'The only reason I wasn't part of the team last year was because I ate a pound of Doxy eggs the night before the tryouts. It was part of a dare and what can I say? I'm not the type to back down from a challenge,' he rambled confidently.

'Idiot,' hissed Hermione under her breath.

McLaggen looked around as though checking who was listening to him. Accidentally, Hermione met his eyes with a glare and he honed in the slightest shred of attention she had granted him and shuffled up the bench towards them.

'Granger, right?' he asked.

'Yes,' said Hermione politely, if undeniably stiffly.

'You're, er – you're friends with that Weasley girl?' he said and eyed Ginny speeding around the pitch effortlessly at the front of the group. 'She's a fair flier, I'll give her that. Professor Slughorn seems to think she's funny.'

Hermione stared and waited for him to continue with what little enthusiasm she could muster for the conversation. He paused to watch the group complete their second lap.

'I suppose he collects who he likes, though, I just thought being good at a curse is a bit of a weird reason, that's all,' he said. 'She's a bit small for a Chaser, too small, really. If a Bludger hit her she would probably go flying.'

'You've clearly never seen Ginny play as a Chaser,' said Neville.

Dean was openly glaring at McLaggen now.

'As long as she can handle it,' he said, shrugging. 'The team needs to be good this year, reckon Potter is up to it? Seems a bit lofty to be Captain. He's not very sociable, is he?'

Not to you, thought Cassy disinterestedly.

McLaggen was thankfully in the next group that were called for try-outs.

After everyone had flow and Harry had whittled the numbers down, he set them the task of completing challenges based on the role they were aiming for. This meant Chaser and Keeper tasks could be conducted at the same time in small groups. Ron hovered in front of the three rings at the end closest to Cassy and her friends, while McLaggen was seated at the opposite end. Ginny and another girl were sent to fly to each end and try to score while Ron and McLaggen had to save them. It was a simple task, in theory, but after the last three rounds they had watched it seemed it did not turn out that way. When put against friends and faced with the prospect of having to live up to the standard they had each set themselves, the Gryffindors began to make foolish mistakes and often crumbled so visibly that even Cassy's uninterested stare caught and recognised their amateurish stumbles.

Ginny was ruthless, yet Ron was holding his own. It was only on the last ball she threw that he fumbled, but he neither let it drop or let it through. He had scored a perfect five saves. McLaggen was equal, though. Ginny grabbed another ball and swung down to the other end of the pitch. She sped along as he readied himself for the final throw, then, quite suddenly and with no real visible cause, he swung away from the middle hoop. Seizing the opportunity, Ginny hurled the Quaffle through the farthest hoop. As the whistle cried out, McLaggen was left hanging lifelessly in the air, his face the picture of confusion.

Slowly, Cassy eyed Hermione. She drawled, 'You know, wordless spells do not go amiss.'

'What do you mean?' asked Hermione briskly. She applauded loudly as Harry called everyone forward to finally pick his team.

Cassy simply hummed. The murmur had been faint, but the jerk of McLaggen's broom was too quick, too clumsy for such an experienced flier. Hermione had cursed him. She was ninety-seven percent sure of it. Hermione certainly did fancy Ron; she was even willing to cheat for him.

In the end, Harry decided on Ginny, Katie Bell, and Demelza Robins as his Chasers. The two Beaters were unknown faces to Cassy and the Keeper was finally decided to be Ron. Several rows away, Lavender shrieked. McLaggen sneered and stomped closer to Harry, although not nearly as intimidating as he might have once been as he and Harry were not almost of equal heights. Cassy did not wait to find out if a fight would break out between them and instead made her way to the pitch with Neville, Hermione, and Luna. Ginny grinned when she saw them and Ron exhaled heavily.

'Piece of cake,' he said. 'Did you see McLaggen miss that last save? Bad luck.'

Cassy again turned with a subtly pointed stare at Hermione, who refused to meet her eyes.

When Harry had managed to calm McLaggen down, or at least persuade him to stop pressing himself against him threateningly, everyone trudged back up to the castle. An air of delight surrounded Harry as he silently considered his new team.

'I can't explain how happy I am that McLaggen missed the last Quaffle,' he muttered to Cassy. 'There was a moment I thought I'd have to have him on the team and he's such an arse – ' His words fell short at the sight of their Head of House sweeping down the steps towards them. She stopped above them, her critical eyes set firmly on Cassy. Their gaze was different than last time. Last time Professor McGonagall's eyes had been filled with a quiet exasperation and mild loathing of her visitor, but this time they were severe, hawk-like in their unwavering singular interest.

'Miss Black, come with me, please,' she said. 'You have another visitor.'

Cassy raised an eyebrow, but Professor McGonagall did not respond beyond turning her back to her swiftly and marched back up the steps again.

'Who is it?' asked Neville, warily.

Cassy shook her head uncertainly and waved a silent, somewhat distracted good-bye to her friends. She followed behind her Head of House without a word. She dared not speak like she had upon her last collection and instead concentrated on where they were heading. It was not to Professor McGonagall's office this time either, meaning whoever it was, was important enough to be situated in the large, circular office of the Headmaster.

Frowning, Cassy considered who it could possibly be. The article had been published for approximately four hours at Hogwarts, most likely five for the London area given the distance, but that was not enough time to make any real impact and persuade anyone they had to urgently meet with her to discuss what they read. She expected a few letters over the next week of people criticising her and others wishing her the best of luck and informal celebrations, but she had not anticipated someone actually coming to Hogwarts to talk.

Each step of the spiral staircase brought a new potential name to the list. It was not until the door opened and she caught sight of her visitor that she realised she had overlooked the most likely visitor; the most vocal supporter and critic she would ever have.

'What the hell do you think you're playing at?' thundered Sirius.

Her father halted his rapid pacing the moment their eyes met. He turned, a deep, ferocious scowl upon his face to roar at her with no restraint.

'Do you realise what you have done?' he demanded loudly.

'Yes,' she barked flatly, her eyes half-lidded. 'I am not totally mentally deficient.'

'I wouldn't know it!' he snapped.

Cassy narrowed her eyes and inwardly debated the merits of simply walking away from the situation. On one hand, it would delay the argument, but on the other he would most likely follow her through the school and scream at her regardless. She stepped inside, if simply to prevent his heated words echoing all through the corridor below. Her head was held high and her hands looped in front of her in a well-practiced, dignified manner, much in contrast to his clenched fists and dancing feet. She regarded him coolly.

'I have opened a dialogue between myself and the press. I have moved attention away from Harry and towards a productive thought process on methods that might actually benefit the war effort. I have found a way to help despite being in school,' she announced.

Behind Sirius sat Professor Dumbledore. He did not move or even blink as he watched the pair closely from his desk.

'You are sixteen,' hissed Sirius. 'You have drawn unnecessary attention to yourself. You publically condemned Voldemort in the National newspaper.'

'I have said what others are too afraid to say, I will make the Ministry accountable,' she countered forcefully. Her tone was not angry. It was not aggressive or scalding, but it was sharp. It held a weight to it that said she could not be moved on the matter, no matter what words he threw at her.

'Give it back,' he said suddenly. All movement ceased and he held his hand out expectantly. 'The ring. Give it back, now.'

'No.'

'I can take it back anytime. You clearly are not ready for it,' he said, calmer than ever.

'I refuse.'

'You cannot refuse, you are not the Head of House yet. As the current acting Head, I can demand it back anytime I see fit.'

'It will take weeks to pass the paperwork again. Two months, at least, and even longer if I dispute it, but by which time it will be my seventeenth birthday and the ceremony will be complete.'

Silence reigned. Heavily, Sirius dropped into the seat behind him. His face was sluggishly obscured by his hands and for a moment nothing was said between any of the room's four occupants. Then, a chair materialised a few feet from Sirius'. Cassy looked to Professor Dumbledore, who indicated to the seat.

'You cannot say things like that anymore,' said Sirius seriously, his head still in his hands. 'He is in the open now, he will act. You need to keep your head down and stay beneath his gaze for as long as possible, Cassy.'

'I already caught his attention,' she said calmly. 'So much so he asked me to join him.'

Sirius jerked. Professor Dumbledore leant forward on his desk and an audible gasp left Professor McGonagall's lips.

'I refused, of course, back at the Ministry,' she continued. 'He said if I joined him he would forgive my misdoings up until then because of my heritage. He asked me twice and I declined twice.'

'He will not ask again,' said Professor Dumbledore gravely.

Sirius sighed heavily, as though all the breath had been drawn from his body. 'Why didn't you tell me that before?'

Cassy hesitated, trying to find the correct wording. 'I am already in a precarious position with Gryffindor, with the other students, and with the public. It was not something I wanted anyone to know because if it circulated it would ruin everything I had planned because no one refuses to join Voldemort, as the saying goes. Right after the battle, it was the last thing on my mind and quite frankly I was mortified he even dared to ask. So, I said nothing.'

There was no need for thorough investigations of any body language to know what each person in front of her felt. Sirius had paled, Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with thought, and Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed thinly as though very displeased.

'I knew I was putting myself in danger if I spoke to Skeeter from the moment I set eyes on her. It was not my intention to conduct an interview at all when I was given this ring, but the opportunity arose to do something the Order cannot do. I can speak out without the threat of attack for at least one year,' she said evenly. 'If you think without outing myself like this that I would not be asked for my opinion, or that I would not give it when I turned seventeen then you are incorrect, very much so. Whether I had the ring or not I would be doing exactly the same. I want to work with the Order to use what I have, please allow me this.'

She turned to Professor Dumbledore and for once did not turn to address anyone else. He held her gaze levelly for a long time.

'You are in school. The Order does not allow anyone below seventeen or not yet graduated to join,' he said eventually.

'Then I will give my opinion freely without the input of the Order,' she said, maintaining eye contact.

He continued to watch her, his fingers looped together and his chin upon them.

'If you will allow it, I can assist you on what to say in your upcoming interviews. I entrust from the message you gave this morning that there will be many to follow upon your birthday. The intelligence the Order of the Phoenix has gathered will be of use in directing your statements, however, I must stress that while an associate you will not be considered a full member.' He was careful with his words, his voice stern and it offered no leeway on the proposition. She either accepted it or returned to a non-associated entity of her own. 'This means no access to meetings or information outside of what it determined useful for your work. You are correct. It would be useful for us to have a pressure besides myself exerted on the Ministry.'

Cassy was the perfect pressure force and they all knew it. Not only was she to be the Head of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, she was the daughter of a man who was very famous amongst the faces of the resistance now. She was the bridge between Pure-Blood and Muggles in a way that promoted integration into the existing society whilst promoting freedom and rights of the other. She was only made richer by Alphard's death and the terrible exclusion by the Malfoy's upon her refusal to disassociate with the young man who was now prophesied to destroy Voldemort. She was the perfect spokesperson and they all knew it.

'That sounds agreeable, Headmaster,' she spoke cordially.

'I should have been a stricter parent,' groaned Sirius.

'If it is any consolation, I probably would not have listened to you anyway,' she said airily.

Professor Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling. 'I suppose your family name is why Voldemort merely had you petrified by the Basilisk instead of killed?'

'Basilisk?' repeated Sirius.

Cassy narrowed her eyes. Professor Dumbledore did that on purpose.

'What does he mean you were petrified by a Basilisk?' demanded Sirius.

'Oh, you did not know?' said Professor Dumbledore innocently.

The mirth in his eyes only made Cassy narrow hers even more.

There were several reasons Cassy had not spoken to Sirius of her first two years of school. The primary most reason was that it had never arisen in conversation. He was somewhat aware of Quirrell having been Voldemort's vessel, but beyond that he was apparently very much unaware of what his daughter and Godson had been up to in their earlier years.

By the time she left, she was silently cursing Harry for not having been dragged into the lengthy explanation too. Sirius' frustration had not fully subsided with her newspaper scandal, so the anger further flared at the brief and milder version of events that were relayed in the office that afternoon. She made sure to glare at Professor Dumbledore whenever Sirius looked away, but he did not seem to take any notice of her and instead made a point of feeding the large, fiery phoenix treats for almost a full half-an-hour until she was excused.

The retelling of her meeting had made Harry laugh and under the heated glare of his girlfriend he smothered his chuckles. When she retold it once again at dinner to Ginny and Luna, the jovial atmosphere was somewhat lost in the thick of the crowd of staring, peering, invasive eyes of the student body.

Harry turned suddenly and forced her head down. For a moment, she growled before a loud splatter met her ears and half the Gryffindor table fell silent. Cake sprayed across the table. She sat up and turned, her face carefully reserved.

'Watch it, Lady Black,' someone shouted. She did not see who, but from the uneasy turning of heads, she narrowed her focus down to a red-haired Ravenclaw boy of a similar age to herself.

'Thank-you, Harry,' she murmured when she turned back around.

Her own House had expressed no concern over the article. Her actions were only met with praise, irritatingly so, almost, as they often wanted to stop her to talk. If she had not anticipated it and had not grown up surrounded by unwanted and forced social events she may well have drowned under all of the attention, but as it was, she thrived on it; it was the best possible outcome. Logically, she knew there would be those who disagreed with her within the castle walls. However, Gryffindor valued chivalry and bravery, so she expected no cake to be slung in her direction from her own House, and Hufflepuff were just and loyal, so at least criticisms would be delivered to her and not pressured on those around her as the sneering faces of the unhappy and often apparently amused Slytherin House were turning in their seats to do.

It was because of their heated stares and deep, furrowed brows that Cassy looked for the one Slytherin who would undoubtedly support her. There was no bright grin among the crowd of scornful faces. There was not even a smirk. The curly blonde hair that was nearly always visible because of how abnormally tall Astoria was compared to her peers was missing. With her eyes narrowed a fraction, Cassy began her search for Daphne and found her soon after sitting beside Zabini, her face slightly flushed and with a scowl more loathsome than any other. This time, Cassy glowered.

'Excuse me,' said Cassy as she stood.

'Are you alright?' asked Neville.

'Yes, I just need to check something,' she said briskly before she began a quick-paced trek back to the common room. There was a brief, passing thought that she should have remained seated, if just to save face against those who would criticise her. Her leaving so suddenly appeared as a weakness; it looked as though she was upset or afraid of the Ravenclaw. Then the thought was brushed from her mind. She had more important things to worry about than a repuation she could easily swipe back tomorrow by squashing any threats before they had a chance to blossom with a firm hand.

The Marauder's Map was beneath Harry's pillow as he often fell asleep gazing at the many corridors out of nothing but nosiness as Neville frequently said. She settled down onto Harry's bed and rifled through the map's many folds. After checking it thoroughly twice and having inspected each and every name in the Great Hall in case Astoria was at another table, Cassy was forced to accept she was not there. She was nowhere to be found above ground, which meant there was only one place she could be.

If she was not amongst the corridors or the common rooms, by the lake or in the fields, she was in the kitchen. With the map still drawn, she set off without delay. Astoria was not one to hide, she was too bold and too conceited for that, which she had even agreed upon when Cassy had lazily announced it once, so to vanish so completely put many thoughts churning through Cassy's already busy mind. Either something was wrong or Astoria had a boyfriend that Daphne did not like, both of which were very realistic possibilities and Cassy was not sure which one she found worse. As it was, her questions were answered in favour of the former being the most likely as Astoria's marker was finally located on the map in a corridor beneath the Great Hall.

Having jumped two steps at a time down the marble staircases, Cassy came face to face with her as she emerged from the corridor.

'Cassy!' she exclaimed.

Cassy did not smile at the rare opportunity to take Astoria off-guard. It seemed someone had already done precisely that when she critically inspected her friend's appearance. Her eyes were rimmed red. Not brightly as though she had recently been crying, but the faint patches of discolouration around her eyes and down her cheeks proposed old tears and the slight crumble on her dress, particularly the long creases in the grey material of the skirt no matter how easy to crease the floaty material was, suggested she had been sitting with her knees to her chest for some time.

'What are you doing down here?' asked Cassy carefully. She did not frown, fearing the expression would cause her to internalise her feelings.

'Just having some time alone,' said Astoria with an odd sort of half-smile, one caught somewhere between genuine and forced.

'This is because of me, isn't it?' said Cassy abruptly.

Astoria laughed.

'It is,' insisted Cassy. 'I know you and your sister argued over Muggleborns and this war. I know most of Slytherin heard about it, if they were not already there to witness it.'

Quickly, as though turned off a tap, the mirth died on her face and Astoria sobered quickly.

With a deep sigh, she admitted, 'The Slytherins have been giving me a rough time, I cannot deny it, but I could handle it before. I just ignored them, told them they were going to regret it and the like. Right now... right now is too much.' She shook her head. 'There are some… who are not pleased with you being the Head of the Black Family and they are vocal about it.'

It was a subtle way of letting Cassy know that her article had turned the attention onto Astoria as her only true supporter in Slytherin. Any criticisms they would have towards her would be channelled at Astoria, poking and prodding her belief that what she was supporting was really the right cause.

Cassy's fists flexed at her sides.

'Have you had dinner?' asked Cassy after a moment of thought.

'No,' acknowledged Astoria. 'I was going to spend the evening in the Room of Requirement, maybe get some when everyone's gone back to their common rooms. The kitchens are a little hectic right now.'

'Do you mind if I join you? I can always have Plum bring you some food. Perhaps get you some things from your room if you wanted,' offered Cassy.

Astoria slowly smiled and Cassy felt relieved that this one was at least genuine.

Ta-da!

As always, thank-you for the reviews and please tell me what you think!

Thanks!