C. M. Black: Tears of a Phoenix
Chapter XI: The cursed Bell.
There was something to be said about having an elected leader, Cassy decided as she sat in a circle on the ground with her friends. At least with a decided leader everyone would comply and, at the very minimum, consider what they had to say equally. However, the new Dumbledore's Army meetings they were attempting to arrange were supposed to be more informal. Harry had not wanted to teach again and they were each adamant they had something to give, but it only seemed to cause disputes on where they should begin. In the end, after Cassy had wandered off to get herself a drink from the mysterious tea set that appeared, the original plan was covered in Luna's doodles and Ginny had thwarted Ron's aggression with a Bat-Bogey hex, Neville suggested they make a list of what they each thought they should focus on. One area from each of them and they could do equal lessons with a focus on one topic at a time.
Agreeable enough, they each wrote their suggestion down and explained it to the others. Cassy wanted to focus on an awareness of the surroundings. It was the greatest tool and hindrance they had during a fight because it changed the very nature of a battle. It could be used to their advantage and it was imperative to know if someone needed support or if another enemy was approaching, she explained. It was her use of spaces in the Ministry battle that kept her alive.
Harry raised the breadth of their spell knowledge. They knew how to stun, but using another magic such as transfiguration in battle was not second nature and an underutilised set of skills.
Healing was Neville's suggestion. No one argued. Though none of them had any interest in pursuing it as an art, no one was foolish enough to think they could go without.
Hermione suggested non-verbal spells, although they were already going to be covered in the syllabus that year for NEWTs. That did not mean any of them trusted the advancements in that class as enough to sustain their progress. They were notoriously difficult to master, but vital for the element of surprise in battle.
It was Ron who suggested they work on group combat. He and Ginny collided in the Department of Mysteries, they were unable to coordinate and just got in each other's way, hindering the fight.
Ginny requested they need to improve their footwork and mobility to dodge and dive and then recover quickly enough to respond, or even better, she suggested, they learnt to dive and roll and attack all at the same time with accuracy.
Finally, Luna paused when it came to her turn. Thoughtfully and slowly, she said, 'I want to learn more about the Dark Arts themselves.'
There was a moment of silence and she turned to see Cassy nodding with agreement.
'I can help with that one. If I may, I would say the knowledge of the Dark Arts lies best with me,' she said.
'You've not stopped your reading then,' stated Neville. His tone was not accusing, simply said as a statement neither annoyed nor surprised.
'I asked Moody over the summer to help me find materials and I have a lot of books in my trunk dedicated to them, all approved by him,' she said conversationally. No one knew of the incident between her and Shandy the previous year apart from Harry and no one asked why she had bothered to seek guidance. If anything, it just made her study appear even more serious than it already had in her quiet obsession. Nothing more was said about it when Harry nodded and collected the paper to scan over.
'If we're all in agreement with these, all we need to do is find suitable dates for everyone to meet and I have a feeling that's going to be harder than it sounds,' he said.
Bundled in coats and thick woollen scarves, students trod the beaten track down towards Hogsmeade. Even from a distance, the smoke from the well-lit fires visibly bloomed from the old chimney stacks and mingled with the grey, clouded sky as the second week of October brought forth the start of the winter weather. The atmosphere for the student body was generally very excitable, particularly if the sprinting third-years were anything to measure by, but Cassy found herself stood between a sulking Harry and an irritable Hermione. She was well-versed in ignoring negative emotions and kept her attention trained on the little things that surrounded them, such as the changing leaves and the frosted lamp posts, or the fact that Luna had her arm interlinked with Neville's a few steps ahead.
The afternoon should have been a very good one. The first trip to Hogsmeade each year was something of a delight; there were sweets to be brought and new pop-up street shops that emerged over the summer to be explored before they inevitably moved their trade along again. Yet, it was difficult when neither Harry nor Hermione were likely to relent. Their argument had been over what all their disagreements had been about lately – the Half-Blood Prince.
While Cassy respected his intellect and very much disliked him at the same time, Hermione loathed him. There was not an ounce of dignity to be had in using his notes, she maintained all through the past weeks and it had not deterred Harry's use of the unusual book at all. He remained in Professor Slughorn's good graces, though Cassy watched him with narrowed eyes in each and every lesson and began to give him a challenge for the title once again with a great deal of extra study of her own copy of the textbook. Harry did not care about that, though, he was just pleased by the ease of the tasks as a result of the extra notes and once Cassy regained her mantle as the best – it was not an easy feat, for Harry's instructions were nearly always perfect - she brightened outside of class with regards to the mysterious figure. While she still lost nearly as much as she won, it turned into a competition of sorts, albeit one Harry really did not want.
Hermione, however, was still staunchly against the book. She was even more in opposition of it when Harry and Ron had met them at breakfast laughing about the new spell Harry had discovered in the pages and used in the boys' dormitory. It had only strung Ron up by the ankle and although Cassy saw the funny side and met the story with an interested smile, Hermione considered it foolish. The spell could have done anything at all and Harry had willingly tested it in an enclosed space, it was madness, she had snapped. Cassy was inclined to agree with that, but she let the incident go without any reprimands besides a pointed look.
That left her as the mid-ground in their silent argument and made the walk down to Hogsmeade very much unenjoyable, or at least, it would have been if Cassy had not been intensely watching Neville and Luna interact. Ginny was not present to roll her eyes and force the two to speak. She was spending the day with Dean and Ron had taken the opportunity to meet with Seamus, who he had incidentally been neglecting in his effort to ignore the blooming relationship between his sister and best-friend.
Everything changed once they stepped foot onto the high street. Tense still, it was for a different reason. The street was not like they had been the year before. The trips had been few and far between in the last year, but the image of a lively village with colourful street vendors flogging their wares and the bright faces of the residents waiting for the surge was embedded into their minds as one of the delights of the trip. Yet, there were no street vendors. The canopies were unopened and the stalls were bare. Several of the shops had been boarded up and announced their closure with a single signed across the covered windows. Even Zonko's was gone although it had been one of the most successful shops in the village.
Many groups peered around at the shut shops with both disheartened eyes and fearful hearts. They loitered in the street and Cassy took the opportunity to quietly direct her friends to the Three Broomsticks while there was still a chance it was not crammed with bodies seeking warmth from the sudden turn of cold weather. It was as busy as it normally was with people elbowing their way to the front of the bar, lit fires lining the walls and the low ceiling giving the room a warm, cosy feeling despite the noise. The five found a table in the centre of the room not far from the stairs.
'The winter sprites have been active this year,' said Luna lightly as they sat. 'They must be working extra hard because of the summer heat we had.'
'Winter sprites?' asked Neville.
'Oh, yes. They bring the frost, don't you know?'
'I'm going to get some drinks,' said Harry before Hermione could volunteer and excuse herself. Cassy went with him as an extra pair of hands as Hermione sunk low into her seat in defeat. They stood beside each other in silence for a while, waiting to be served.
'Hermione is only angry because she was worried,' said Cassy after a moment.
Harry scoffed, 'It was a harmless spell. You'd think she thought the Prince is a murderer with the way she talks about him.'
'You do not speak Latin, it's useful when learning new spells,' said Cassy, purposefully keeping her tone neutral and conversational. 'She was just afraid the spell could have been something more sinister and Ron could have been seriously injured.'
'I wasn't aiming for him,' said Harry weakly. 'Anyway, why do you keep pointing out how worried she is for Ron? The two of them squabble more than anything else, although… it's a bit weird she'd cheat to get Ron on the team.'
Cassy smirked.
'They've been kind of weird around each other lately,' he said slowly.
Cassy smirked wider in weight of the realisation that was sure to hit. It never had a chance to, however, for Madam Rosmerta chose that moment to appear before them with a wide smile and expectant eyes.
'What will you have, my dears?' she said, her grin stretching ever so slightly as she met Harry's vibrant eyes.
'Five Butterbeers, please,' he ordered and she began to rummage for clean glasses beneath the bar. Harry gazed around the room for a moment. 'Y'know, I thought it would be busier than this.'
'Oh, no,' said Madam Rosmerta, resurfacing with her arms full of glasses. 'Everyone's terrified, aren't they? I suppose we'll have fewer students coming through this year because their parents'll be too afraid to give them permission to come in case there's an attack. I don't blame them, of course. I'd be the same.'
Harry frowned lightly. 'You think he'd attack here? Where it's so close to Hogwarts?'
'But it's not Hogwarts, is it?' she said wisely. 'That'll be sixteen Sickles and twenty-five Knuts, please.'
When Harry had paid, he and Cassy carried the drinks back over to the table. Neville and Luna were immersed in a deep conversation, most likely about something completely unrealistic and whimsical if the dire expression on Hermione's face was telling. Whatever it was, they quietened down and a conversation was struck about where they were going to go now half of the shops were shut. For the most part, Harry was silent. He stared at his Butterbeer absently, deep in thought that Cassy had no doubt related to what Madam Rosmerta had said. It was entirely possible they would be attacked whilst in Hogsmeade. It was unlikely, given the closeness to Professor Dumbledore, but it was clear from the landlady's nonchalant response that the residence had long accepted the chance. Harry, apparently, had not.
'But would anyone really be stupid enough to attack here?' he said suddenly. 'I mean, aren't they patrolling about nearby?'
'Doesn't mean someone won't try. I mean, if they didn't think it was a possibility, why would anyone be patrolling at all?' said Hermione.
Cassy hummed in response. She wondered if Tonks was on patrol today. It would be nice to see how she was fairing.
'Hello!' called a cheerful voice.
Everyone turned to see Ginny and Dean grinning in the doorway. Ginny's face was flushed from the cold and Dean's arm was wrapped around her waist. They all waved back as the pair stepped up to the bar.
'Good job Ron's not here,' said Neville. He nodded over Cassy's shoulder, but she did not need to turn around to know what was happening. 'They can't stop for five minutes, can they?'
Cassy idly wondered if the pair ever had a conversation anymore or if they were permanently locked together at their lips. The amount of times in the little over a month since term began that Cassy had personally walked into a room and caught the two kissing was almost more than she cared to count – she had counted, of course, and it was thirty-two times, almost once a day, though sometimes several. In the end, she had decided it was most likely Ginny's way of annoying Ron, seeing as his distaste for their relationship had not really lessened any.
They were intertwined in a booth when Cassy and the others decided to leave The Three Broomsticks and ventured out into blustery winds. If possible, the street was even emptier than before. While the pub had filled with disappointed bodies who had raced to Zonko's to avoid the inevitable rush, the street had become sparse and bare, even more so as many of the colourful advertisements had been stripped from the windows, each shop now inconspicuous and barely different from the last.
Cassy and Harry walked with her arm looped around his.
A distant store door opened and the rounded form of Professor Slughorn emerged clad in a thick coat and a large sweet-filled bag in his hands from Honeydukes.
'Oh, no,' hissed Harry.
He had been avoiding Professor Slughorn. In the last month, there had been several dinners and although Harry had been invited to all of them he had yet to attend a single one. There was always an excuse, but lately it had been that Quidditch practice was mysteriously always on the same night as the dinner, a fact that only arose because he would wait for the invitation before putting up the bulletin on the common room notice board. It was not through lack of trying to get him to attend, Professor Slughorn had even gone as far as to ask Professor McGonagall of the training schedule for the term, but she had denied all responsibility for it.
Harry suddenly veered towards the side of the street and Cassy sunk her heels down firmly against the cobbled stone.
'What are you doing?' he demanded in a loud whisper as she clutched his arm tightly. She merely smirked in response and his eyes narrowed. He began to struggle urgently.
'Ah, Harry, my boy!' came a joyful shout.
Cassy laughed lowly and Harry turned to give her a filthy glare before he gave Professor Slughorn a wonky, half-hearted smile. Cassy quickly dropped his arm, smug.
'Sir,' he greeted.
'My dear boy, I've been trying to get a hold of you for weeks. When will you attend one of my dinners?' he said when he had bustled closer. 'They're fantastic, aren't they Miss Granger?'
'Oh, er – yes. They're quite enjoyable,' stumbled Hermione.
Professor Slughorn gave Harry an expectant smile. 'Free Monday evening?'
'I have a meeting with Dumbledore then,' he said, relieved. 'Sorry, Sir.'
'Blast. Dumbledore again. I will have to have words with him about taking up all your time,' he said, wagging his finger with a smile. 'Ah, well, one of these days, Harry.'
'Yeah,' agreed Harry awkwardly.
Professor Slughorn took a moment to look at the rest of the group properly. He smiled and greeted Cassy, nodded his head at Neville, and stared warily at Luna for a moment before he turned back to Harry.
'You have a diverse group of friends,' he commented uneasily and obviously searching for something to say.
'And the best anyone could hope for,' said Harry. His tone had an unusual sharpness to it. Professor Slughorn's words had triggered a jolt of protectiveness that had the older man quickly waving his hand as though erasing the comment.
'I'm sure they are,' he said quickly.
After the polite farewells and well-wishes and only when Professor Slughorn was entirely out of sight did Harry turn to Cassy with the flattest stare that had ever graced his features. She smiled innocently back up at him, her eyes widened and a slight smile on her lips. It did nothing to quell the glare.
'Really?' he demanded.
Cassy's face dropped into a smirk. 'His dinners are not that bad. I have been to worse and besides, it might do you some good to know some of the people he knows. You need the support.'
Harry groaned.
'You should really trust my opinion on dinner parties,' she said as they began to walk again.
'It's not the parties that are the problem. He just doesn't sit right with me. I don't want to have to meet his friends or ex-students,' he sighed with a shrug.
'He really isn't that bad,' added Hermione. 'He's just… very Slytherin.'
Harry fixed her with a scrutinising look. 'That's a phrase I expect from this one.' He jabbed his thumb at Cassy.
'It's rude to point like that,' commented Cassy.
'Sorry, Milady,' he said and she rolled her eyes playfully in return.
The farther they walked, the more students they found lingering around in the side streets. While many of the shops on the high street had closed, the little, independent shops in the weaving pathways away from the centre were very much still open. It was not so much of an option for them to cautiously close down their businesses, for having been inside many of them over the years, it was well-known they were often small, family run establishments that could not handle closure for the uncertain duration of the war. Nervous shopkeepers greeted them. A divide arose at the sight of Harry. The public was torn between delight and terror. He was the saviour, but if anyone was to attack it would be in search of him; several shop owners tried to give him free merchandise while others could not wait to see his back as he left the store.
It was only once they had reached the outskirts of the village that the five of them decided to turn back around and journey to the main street before agreeing to return to the castle. There were still several shops they had neglected to enter in their curiosity to see how badly the village had suffered in the few months since the war was officially announced.
When they passed a small side road, Neville suddenly halted.
'It's Mundungus,' he said, staring down the narrow street.
'Alright?' called Harry.
Fletcher suddenly jumped. He turned with eyes so wide that they were visible from the other end of the street where the teens stood. He scrambled, knocking his wares from the rickety stall; they crashed across the ground loudly against the stone with flashes of silver in the dull sunlight. He dropped to his knees heavily, his hands blindly grabbing at the merchandise.
Harry jogged forward. 'Are you alright?' Suddenly, he straightened, a spoon in his hands and a dangerous glint in his eyes. Without another word, Harry span on the spot, his forearm thrust into Fletcher's neck and knocked the smaller man against the wall, pinning him.
'Harry!' cried Hermione.
'This is the Black crest,' he growled.
Cassy's own eyes sharpened. She swept towards them and stooped to collect a silver plate.
'It was going to be thrown away, I swear!' stuttered Fletcher.
The pressure on his throat increased.
'How dare you sell my family heirlooms,' said Cassy icily. If her tone had not been enough to make Fletcher's heart palpitate, the dangerously dark expression that plagued her usually calm features was. Her eyebrows were only slightly dipped, but her eyes were tensed and narrowed, their blue hue bright against the grey of the sky and her head was tilted down a fraction, the shadowing from her brows to her high cheekbones to formulate a glare that might just make a grown man cry. It almost did, if the pallor of Fletcher's face was anything to judge by.
'Harry, you're going to choke him!' shrieked Hermione.
'You should all be inside,' said a voice from behind.
Cassy did not spin to face the owner like the others did. She knew the speaker well enough.
'He's been stealing,' hissed Harry.
'As he always does,' said Tonks nonchalantly. 'Let him go, Harry, and get yourselves inside. It's not safe out here.'
Harry growled audibly, but relented his hold.
Fletcher gasped and suddenly dived forward. Cassy kicked the trunk out of his reach, though he did not slow his flailing hands. Instead, he turned towards the table and scooped the items from the top into his arms; a watch, a pair of silver candlesticks, a serving platter, and an old, ornate necklace with an emerald covering. Then, he vanished with a loud crack.
Cassy clenched her fists. Next time she saw him, there would be words said and probably a firm blow to the gut, but she concentrated instead of collecting the remnants of the household items into his abandoned trunk.
'How can he do that?' asked Neville, aghast.
'He's a thief,' said Hermione bitterly. 'He has no loyalties as long as he gets paid.'
'C'mon now,' urged Tonks, 'You guys should head back to the high street already.'
Cassy fixed her with a critical stare. Her hair was still brown and her skin had darkened around her eyes. Tonks smiled dismissively and pushed her arms out at her sides as though about to try and heard the group back onto the main road.
'Write to me,' said Cassy shortly. 'I have not received a single letter from you all term.'
'I've been busy… y'know.' She waved her hand around them. 'I'm often on duty, so I don't have much time.'
Cassy moved to challenge that, but Luna spoke first, 'You're the lady who helped us at the Ministry. Thank-you for that.'
With that said, the rising tension between the two female Blacks was severed. Cassy calmed her expression, though she internally frowned instead, and Tonks took the opportunity to order them back onto the main street once more. Reluctantly, they separated and the five teens were again on their way to Honeydukes as they had been. After a moment, Luna turned to Cassy thoughtfully.
'She looked really sad. Her hair is brown now too; it makes her look even more depressed,' she commented.
'She's a Metamorphagus,' replied Cassy shortly. 'And she is upset.'
'About what?' asked Neville, frowning.
'It's not my place to say,' she said, staring ahead.
'She must be pretty upset for it to affect her abilities like that,' murmured Hermione.
Cassy still did not comment and Harry was too wrapped up in his anger at Fletcher to get involved in the conversation. She would have to write home, she decided, because even if Sirius did not care for the missing wares, they were then technically hers. He may have inherited the items of Grimmauld Place, but she expected him to ask her if he was truly going to through away their two-hundred-year-old dining set, which she very much doubted he would anyway. They had used it last Christmas. She tightened her hand around the trunk handle.
As they neared Honeydukes, loud shouting broke through her thoughts. Her mind turned away from her own anger to the aggression of the familiar faces of Katie Bell and her friend Leanne Wright, who was also a seventh year Gryffindor, though she was much less familiar. The latter stomped after Bell.
'Put it back, Katie!' she demanded loudly. 'Where did you even get that from?'
Bell did not turn. She approached the group and did not smile or wave at her Quidditch Captain. In her arms was a brown package, wrapped messily which she clutched to her chest protectively. Her eyes remained forward, yet unfocused. She passed them with purpose, but when she drew close, Cassy got a clear look at her eyes. They were cloudy, distant, and unseeing.
She hissed, 'Her eyes!'
'I know,' said Harry quickly.
Cassy had seen those eyes not long ago. They were not brown like Bell's then, they had been a shrouded green. So familiar yet unfamiliar in their gaze. They had been unseeing then too, unable to comprehend her as the wand twisted in the owner's hand, levelled and ready to kill. Cassy was very familiar with that stare.
'Stop!' Harry suddenly shouted.
Leanne Wright had grabbed Bell's arm and tugged fiercely. The other span on the frosted cobblestone and the parcel tumbled from her arms. Desperately, she reached for it on the floor, the packaging ripping as she gathered it back into her arms.
'Katie, what – '
There was no time for the reprimand to be completed. A loud scream pierced the air. The package dropped to the floor and all anyone could do was stare as Katie Bell's body ascended and suspended itself six-feet in the air. Her hair whipped around her face, her features frozen in place as she continued to scream and scream.
Her friend began screaming with her.
'Move away!' commanded Cassy to the girl loudly, but she merely cowered on the spot in shock.
Harry ran forward and grabbed Bell's leg. Neville, Hermione, and Luna followed suit. Cassy dropped into a crouch and eyed the necklace; it was gaudy, ostentatious with an unnecessary number of opals embedded into the shining silver. Tense, she carefully bundled the necklace back up in the packaging, careful not to touch it. She stepped back as Bell finally collapsed onto the floor, writhing and shrieking.
'I'm going to find some help,' said Harry quickly.
'Neville,' said Cassy, 'do you know any pain relief spells. My hands are occupied.' She held up the necklace and trunk a fraction to prove her point.
For a moment, he stared at her blankly, before the words seemed to infiltrate his pain and he scrambled for his wand. Hermione had her arms around the other girl who was openly sobbing at Bell's head.
After a few muttered spells, she stopped screaming. Her limbs flailed and jerked uncontrollably; her eyes stared straight ahead at the clouded sky, unseeing, unblinking. The little twitches looked a lot like the unstoppable tremors Cassy had felt after the Cruciatus Curse, like spasms that followed a complete overhaul of every nerve in one's body. Tears streaked down her face silently until she finally fell completely still.
They all waited apprehensively for Harry to return. It was the longest time not a single soul had ventured onto the street, though if the Order of the Phoenix was patrolling, it was most likely due to their insistence that everyone remain inside unless absolutely necessary. If one happened to descend upon them now in reprimand, they all would have been grateful, but as it was they had to wait for another agonising few minutes for Harry to sprint back into view. Behind him, tall and hurrying with unusual speed, was Hagrid.
'What happened?' he asked, immediately stooping to get a better look.
'The package – I told her not to take it, but she insisted. It was in the girls' toilets in the Three Broomsticks,' sobbed Leanne Wright.
'It was the Imperius Curse,' said Harry quickly. 'You could tell by her eyes.'
'Where's the package?' said Hagrid.
'Here,' said Cassy. 'It's a necklace.'
Hagrid stared at the brown bundle severely. 'Don't touch it and follow me.'
Without another word, Hagrid scooped Bell into his arms and strode towards the castle. Her friend jogged to keep pace with him, while Cassy fell back a few paces and Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Luna curiously followed suit.
With her gaze fixed ahead, she murmured, 'The necklace is the same one from Borgin and Burkes.'
Neville gasped and Harry visibly tensed despite her averted stare.
Nothing more was said as they climbed the pathway back to the castle and batted away Filch's demands that he must inspect them all before they were allowed to enter. Hagrid growled threateningly until he backed away reluctantly, but not without a threat to find them later and Cassy did not particularly mind right then if he inspected the parcel in her grasp. Yet, it did not take long for their presence to be noted by another member of staff and for their travels to be called to a halt again just inside the castle doors. On the top of the marble staircase stood Professor McGonagall, her eyes wide and lips parted in shock.
'What?' she stuttered out as she hurried down towards them.
'Cursed,' said Hagrid.
'The hospital wing, quickly,' she ordered. She turned to the remaining students. 'What happened?'
As the story began to unfold once again, they were all directed towards Professor Snape's office. He had less interest in hearing the tale and instead set his dark eyes on the parcel in Cassy's arms. She set it on the desk and he carefully unwrapped it with his wand. It glittered in the dull light of his office, suspended between the two teachers. After a few more moments, he turned to them.
'I believe it is very lucky that Miss Bell is alive,' he drawled. 'Whose idea was it to numb her?'
After a brief pause, Hermione said, 'Cassy's, Sir.'
Professor Snape hummed. 'Torturing every fibre of one's body is less effective when it cannot be felt, but next time I suggest Miss Black keeps her ideas to herself before her ignorance kills somebody. Such things will not remove the curse but erase the side-effect. It did very little to help and has probably made diagnosis tougher for Madam Pomfrey now.'
Cassy did not reply, nor did she look abashed or guilty. She kept level with his stare until he was done speaking and then politely turned her attention back to the floating necklace. Her friends, however, all shuffled in anger around her. Professor Snape did not usually insult her as he did Harry or Neville; she often thought it was because she failed to respond and it took away any satisfaction he gained.
'Severus!' snapped Professor McGonagall. 'Really now! They did their best, more than many others would think to do in their shoes.'
The praise did not quell Harry's bristling.
'It was Malfoy,' he announced forcefully.
Cassy sighed.
'That is some accusation, Mr Potter,' said Professor McGonagall, stunned. 'As it is, I can vouch for Mr Malfoy as he spent the morning in detention with me, not in Hogsmeade. I think it is best that the six of you leave now so this matter can be addressed fully, thank-you.'
With that sudden dismissal, they were all ejected from the office. After a mumbled thank-you, the seventh year Gryffindor left to check on Bell's progress and Cassy, Harry, Neville, Hermione, and Luna all decided to go their separate ways for the afternoon. Luna headed back to her common room while Hermione took the opportunity to retreat to the library, undoubtedly to research the possible curses the necklace held. That left only Cassy, Harry, and Neville to return to the Gryffindor common room, which was empty and silent with the exception of the crackling fire.
'I am going to put this in my room,' said Cassy, indicating to the trunk.
She trod upstairs heavily. Disbelief gripped her mind. It was almost unfathomable that Harry would announce Malfoy's supposed guilt in front of his Godfather. They had no evidence and even less credibility should anything else occur now because of the wild accusation. With a sigh, she began to empty the household items into her own trunk, thankful for the extension charm Mr Weasley had kindly completed for her to house all of her new books with. As she slotted each item carefully at the bottom, her hand brushed along a thin, silky material. She pulled and unearthed Harry's Invisibility Cloak. She ran the garment through her fingers; she had forgotten she had not returned it after her last excursion.
Nodding to herself, she stood and threw the cloak over her head. She vanished and remained vanished as she trekked through the castle and down towards the Dungeons. She waited for a few minutes as she hissed potential bigoted passwords at the portrait, which stared blankly ahead, until a small group of students returned with their arms stuffed with bags from Hogsmeade. She slipped in after them, but Malfoy was not lounging on the leather sofa as he had been before. He was not at the bookcase, nor playing chess. He was not in his dormitory either and she even poked her head in the boys' bathroom attached, but there was no sight of him.
Reluctantly, she climbed back up towards her own common room. It sounded ludicrous, but she almost agreed with Harry that Malfoy was somehow responsible. It seemed unlikely that another student would buy a cursed artefact from the same shop he happened to express such interest in, yet at the same time it seemed unlikely it was him because they had thought he was working on a plan for Voldemort. Killing a seventeen-year-old student seemed rather mundane for any plans the Dark Lord would have. Part of her mind avidly disagreed with that thought. It was wholly possible it was him, because just because Bell found it did not mean it was intended for her. She could merely be the messenger, but then again she was stuck with the question of how he would have enchanted her if he had been at the castle all morning, unless it was someone else altogether.
When the portrait swung open, she stumbled to a stop. Her head was a mere inch from a green woollen jumper. Slowly, her eyes moved from the chest in front and up to the pair of bottle-green eyes that stared down at her pointedly.
'Harry,' she greeted blandly.
'You just went to the Slytherin common room' he stated.
'Well, the trust in this relationship is dead,' she drawled and he snorted.
'I was looking on the map for him too,' he said, tapping the blank parchment. 'He's not there, nor is he anywhere else. Malfoy's not in the castle.'
A massive thanks to Love Remedy who left a lovely review and inspired me to update. I've been tied down with work and rather stressed lately. Thank-you for all the reviews so far, everyone.
Anyway, here is chapter eleven. I hope you like it.
Thanks!