So this is by far my longest chapter yet and I was going to break it into two parts, but I find it flows much better together as a single piece. I am not too sure how much longer this particular story is going to be, but I do have another story in the works that I have been thinking about for a few weeks. And once again, I would like to thank Hayley's Happening for the review and yUmMyPuRpLeDiNoSaUrS for adding me to their favorite story list.
Disclaimer: I was only in my early teens when Harry Potter was first written, therefore I only own Cassandra and Phoenix.
Noting the time on the clock, Cassandra returned to looking inside the closet she had stored her clothes in during her stay at the Malfoy Manor, contemplating an outfit to wear to the Quidditch match. She wasn't exactly sure what she was expected to wear; from what she had seen from visitors at the Suites who attended matches, everything from "Sunday best" attire to casual team colors and jerseys were that Narcissa had suggested she borrow one of her coats for the match, Cassandra called out for Fauna, whom she knew was visiting a few of the Malfoy house-elves she had made friends with while visiting her a few days earlier.
"Yes, Miss Cassandra. Fauna heard you call."
"Fauna, could you and a few of the other house-elves bring me a few of Mrs. Malfoy's coats? Draco and I are going to a Quidditch match tonight and she suggested that I bring one of hers."
"Oh yes Miss Cassandra, Fauna will go and get Millie and Fauna and Millie will go and get some for you."
A few moments later, Fauna and Millie had brought Cassandra what she first thought was every one of Mrs. Malfoy's coats, but after persuasion from the two house-elves was convinced these were the ones they found might work best for the Quidditch match. In all, they had brought ten different coats, some more like heavy sweaters, while others looked as if they should only be worn in the snow. She was about to give up and just wear a jacket of her own when she saw a plain, dark grey pea coat with large hunter green buttons. Pausing for a moment, she traced her fingers over the large buttons and over the soft cotton fabric noticing how thick it was, enabling the light fabric to keep it's owner warm in the cold night air. And recalling how Draco said the match would be seaside that evening, Cassandra made up her mind to wear this exact coat. Returning her attention to the wardrobe, she pulled out a pair of dark wash jeans and a simple dark green sweater with a white shirt underneath it, and a pair of silver flats to finish off her outfit. She may be the only muggle at the Quidditch game, but she was going to show the wizarding world that muggles do in fact dress properly.
After pinning a few curls out of her face, Cassandra sat down until she was ready to go and find Draco before they had to leave. Relaxing into an oversized loveseat, Cassandra's mind wandered back to the events which had taken place only that morning, and yet which seemed light-years in the past. She shivered as she remembered the way her skin tingled beneath Draco's touch; he had been so close to kissing her, everything was moving in the right direction, if only they had not been interrupted. She sighed and shifted in the chair, allowing her legs to dangle over the one of the chair's arms, while her back rested against the other. Her eyes began to flutter shut as she relaxed into the cool environment of her room, the approaching sunset (still hours away, but the sun ever falling into the west, rays of light falling in through the windows) sending a warm glow over her body; life was so much more relaxing with Draco around. But with the few things she had heard about him from guests in previous summers at the Suites, she had a hard time believing it to be so true: how could everyone else seem to despise him when she found him to be the one person she could be herself around, no inhibitions?
Cassandra's eyes suddenly flew open as if everything was beginning to click. Just that morning they had almost kissed, he brought out the best in her and Mrs. Malfoy obviously thought she brought out the best in him, and now they were going to dinner and a Quidditch match together—was this some kind of date? She had no idea what to think. Yes, she had had a few boyfriends in the past, but they were nothing serious, relationships lasting a few months until it became obvious things were just not going to work out. And in all of those relationships, there had been no previous friendship to build the relationship on, they had just happened. And there is nothing worse than not knowing if an evening out is a date or not; what if something happened between them and ruined their relationship; or even worse, what if he wasn't going to kiss her earlier? Cassandra let her head fall back, hanging nearly upside-down, taking in a deep breath and holding it before she let it out. She could not afford to think this way, for once she had to just go with the flow, let things happen. Maybe that is why everything turned out wrong before, maybe she just needed to follow her heart, even if she might get hurt in the end.
Deciding that waiting around was not going to work out, Cassandra wandered out into the hall, hoping to find Draco and see if he was ready to leave. Walking up to Draco's bedroom door, she knocked hoping to find him inside. Waiting a moment, she heard a voice call out.
"You can come in if you want, but I am not wearing any pants."
Cassandra chuckled; at least he was honest. "I think I'll pass," she replied, "I don't think Phoenix could handle me being in your room knowing you are walking around like a bloody exhibitionist."
"Suit yourself, but let me tell you, you're missing out."
"Someone's cocky," she thought has she turned from his bedroom and made her way downstairs to find Mrs. Malfoy and Phoenix. If she had to wait for Draco, she might has well find company elsewhere. And after briefly hoping they were not still in Mrs. Malfoy's sunroom, sitting room, whatever room it was, she was relieved to hear their voices coming from the garden just outside of the main entrance hall of the Manor.
"I think they look rather cute together Narcissa. They would have beautiful children."
"Phoenix! They might hear you." Mrs. Malfoy might have sounded scandalized, but there was an evident tone of laughter in her voice.
"Don't act like you haven't thought that yourself. Certainly you and Lucius don't want him to marry a Pureblood; you're practically related to every other Pureblood in our world."
Cassandra blushed; she hadn't heard the very beginnings of their conversations, but with Phoenix's last bit of conversations she was able to piece enough together to understand they were talking about her and Draco.
"Of course I have thought about it. But I don't want to force anything. Lucius and I were lucky, our arranged marriage worked, but before the War I made it clear to him, our son would marry whomever he liked. And I would love to see him have a relationship with Cassandra, just look at how happy together they are as friends, but I don't want to force anything. If anything happens between them, it happens."
There was a moments silence and Cassandra decided now would be the best time to enter; they should have no idea that she had nearly walked in on a conversation concerning her and the boy upstairs without his pants on. Pushing open further the door leading outside to the garden, Cassandra found Narcissa Malfoy and Phoenix Mayweather watering a group of flowers: lilies, roses, and daffodils.
"You look lovely Cassandra. I do believe that coat looks better on you than it does me."
Cassandra smiled, fighting back the blush that always crossed her complexion when someone complemented her.
"And without a word of advice, you picked the perfect outfit for the match Cass," added Phoenix. "Dressy casual. It is as if you had been going to Quidditch matches all your life."
Cassandra laughed. "I do my best. I just figured so many of your already freak out when you find out I am a muggle, I might as well show then that not all muggles have terrible taste."
"It's not that we think muggles have terrible taste dear, we just have a hard time understanding your ways," commented Mrs. Malfoy.
"No, muggles have terrible taste. I am pretty sure that is a fact or something somewhere taught at Hogwarts."
The three women didn't even have to turn around to know where, or from whom, the sarcastic comment came. But the minute Cassandra turned around, Draco was silenced. She felt his eyes slowly move over her, taking in every detail of her person, this time she could not help the flushed red which overcame her. At the same time however, Draco struggled to find his voice; from behind, he just assumed she was wearing jeans and a jacket, he wasn't expecting the sophisticated beauty before him. And of all times to be caught off-guard, but in from of his mother—he knew she would have a day with this once they left. His mind racked itself for something equally sarcastic to come back with.
"Well," he began, "I guess you do clean up somewhat nicely."
Cassandra just smiled and shook her head, "happy to know you find my attire appropriate Draco. Now that I know you approve, my whole life is complete."
Narcissa and Phoenix exchanged glances. It was obvious to them, if unclear or oblivious to their charges, the feelings the two teenagers were feeling and perhaps fighting to keep to themselves. In hopes of relieving some of the tension that was floating around the garden, Narcissa spoke once again, if only to break the silence.
"You had better get going. I owled the stadium to inform them that we'll be using our seats tonight, and in their reply they suggested you get there early. Apparently, the match was sold out and they had to charm the stadium to make it even larger so they could sell more tickets. It is going to be incredibly busy."
"That's not unusual though," replied Draco as he walked up next to Cassandra. "Magpies verses the Cannons is always sold out, just makes it all the more interesting."
"Thank you for letting me borrow your coat Mrs. Malfoy and I will make sure this son of yours doesn't get into too much trouble." Cassandra nudged Draco's side only to have her arm caught in his hand.
"No more time for chitchat," he insisted, waving his other hand slightly to his mother and Mrs. Mayweather. Cassandra offered him a sideways glance. "But we have a Quidditch match to attend." And without even a seconds warning, Draco popped them off, but not before lowering his hand and interlacing it with Cassandra's own.
***
Even before Cassandra opened her eyes, she could hear the voices of the thousands of people around her; she could feel them walking by, their feet running past her, carrying along with them laughter which faded as they distanced themselves from her. But even with all of these senses, when she finally opened her eyes, the scene before her was breathtaking. Ahead of her, in the near distance, as a stadium so large, it looked impossible to even be standing, as if it defied the laws of nature—even wizarding nature; and yet it was, and it was a sight to behold. Built out of what looked like steal, the Quidditch Stadium was regulatory size, that is length and width wise, but the stadium seating looked as if it went on go ages. Huge floodlights lined the top of the stadium, flooding the inside of the stadium with lights so bright, night would look like day. Alternating flags of black and orange hung around the stadium; below those, flags from every other ministry recognized Quidditch team hung, their colors a rainbow in and of themselves.
Tearing her eyes away from the majesty that was the stadium, Cassandra quickly began to notice the city around her, which appeared to be a port town of some sort. Cassandra could feel the crisp sea breeze blowing in off the shoreline, signaling to her that they were in a different part of the country, if they were in England still at all. But judging by the flags she saw flying on the stadium and recalling that Draco had mentioned the match tonight was Magpies verses Cannons, Cassandra assumed they must be in Montrose, the home of the Montrose Magpies.
"You would be a fan of the most successful team in Quidditch history wouldn't you Draco."
He smirked, "I thought you didn't know anything about Quidditch Cass? Have you been hiding out on me?"
"I do read the paper even if I don't follow the sport," Cassandra rolled her eyes, walking forward while continuing to look around her.
In the distance, Cassandra saw a tall steeple belonging to a church and beyond that the saw the harbor, home to what appeared to be thousands of boats. To the left and right of here were small shops, some selling local fish and meats while others were home to tobacconists and pharmacies, while others still sold goods to meet household and scholarly needs. What surprised her most however, was that while there were a few obvious wizards around her (Draco had initially apparated them to the entrance of an alleyway) she was almost completely surrounded by people like herself—muggles.
"Draco, how are the muggles unaware of what is going on? Can't they see the stadium?"
"The ministry has cast a disillusionment charm on the muggles who live here. It wasn't until about ten years ago that so many muggles moved here and even then, a lot of them are married to witches or wizards. They are talking however, about moving the stadium more inland, as long as the team is ok with it. Montrose is still such a small town that not many people visit it, so we haven't had to worry too much about people seeing the stadium."
Stopping for a moment, Draco lead Cassandra into what looked like an abandoned building, but which she knew better to be a wizarding pub, much like that of The Leaky Cauldron back in London. Once inside the heavy wooden doors, Cassandra was met with a thick layer of smoke above her head and the heady smell of mead and hops from the brews around her. His hand still around hers, Draco led her easily through the crowded room and into a passageway. Stopping, he muttered a few words under his breath and the wall before them vanished. Stepping through the newly opened wall, Cassandra and Draco found themselves in a very active, and very crowded, street, lined with stores and shops selling everything from evening meals to books to endless Montrose Magpies fanwear.
As they began walking down the street (which Cassandra was later informed was named Restenneth Port) Draco let his hand slip out of Cassandra's, instead stuffing it into his pockets as they walked together. But the action went unnoticed by Cassandra who was too busy taking in the sights around her. She was left breathless by the whole new world which she desperately wanted to explore, but couldn't knowing they had only an hour or so before they had to be at the stadium finding their seats before the match began. Stopping in front of a small sandwich shop, Draco directed her inside, informing her they might as well grab a quick bite to eat before the match, that if they are still hungry afterwards, they can get something more that night. Agreeing with him, they quickly found a small table for two near the front window and had their orders taken by a young witch who seemed to recognize the famous Malfoy hair but said not a word.
"Was I the real reason you wanted to come tonight?" questioned Cassandra.
Draco took a few moments before answering, hiding his pause in mulling over his sandwich and taking a more than hearty bite.
"You want the real answer," he began. She nodded. Putting down his sandwich he continued. "I wanted one last night with you, alone. Just me and you and not having to worry what my mother might be thinking or what she and Phoenix are thinking together."
Cassandra raised her eyebrows ever so slightly as she lifted her gaze to meet his. She wasn't quite sure how to take his revelation.
"And then there was the fact that you were such a good excuse for wanting to come. This is going to be such a good game."
The smile on Draco's face was unmatched and didn't waver for a second even when Cassandra threw a chip at his face. "You're unbelievable. Asshole."
"Language Miss Cassandra, language," taunted Draco, making a pointed move to eat the chip just thrown at him. But so busy were Cassandra and Draco conversing in their own world and flitting around the subject of why they wanted to spend so much time together that they failed to notice a pair of eyes steadily watching them from outside the window with ever growing interest.
***
If Cassandra had been in awe of the Montrose Magpies stadium from a glance at far, the overwhelming feelings and emotions being thrusted at her now were nearly overwhelming. The excitement, buzz, and overall Quidditch mania she was no experiencing was enough to convince her that no muggle sporting event could come close to the controlled (or perhaps uncontrolled) chaos which was Montrose Stadium. It was as if the entire wizarding world's population has been transplanted into the stadium, but coordinated into competing colors of black and orange. Cassandra could barely hear herself think as she and Draco walked through the stadium, making their way up and down narrow stairways and through larger passageways, meanwhile walking past thousands of other Quidditch fans who had to yell to their friends in order to be heard. Making their way to their seats, she heard friendly challenges being thrown back and forth between Montrose fans and Cannons fans; she heard friends catching up after being apart for awhile; and even more so than anything else, she heard people who were absolutely content just being where they were. Draco stopped before the next set of stairs began their assent up into the stadium seating, interrupting her thoughts as leaned in and whispered into her ear.
"I'll he right back. I've got something to take care of real quick." He nodded off towards the bathrooms to their right.
Cassandra looked at him and chuckled. "Don't forget to wash your hands dear," she joked mockingly.
Backing up, but never taking his eyes off of her, he raised his hands toward his ears and shook his head, mouthing something unreadable, but easily taken as "I can't hear you." Rolling her eyes, Cassandra turned back around and focused her attention on the crowd before her. There was something thrilling in knowing no one other than Draco knew her heritage despite the possibly tens of thousands attending the match that evening. No one cared that if any magical blood was running through her at that very moment, it was in hibernation, refusing to make itself known and awake. All around her, muggle-borns, half-bloods, and Purebloods were mingling with each other, laughing, hugging, even passing the occasional heated glances as they walked past each other. She could only hope that one day she too might be able to walk through the wizarding world without having to worry about what others might think upon finding out her own heritage and how intimately different it was from their own. However a tap on her shoulder tore Cassandra out of her fantastical hopes and back into the reality of the twenty-first century and wizarding England.
Turning around, Cassandra came face to face with the person she least expected at that very moment. Instead of turning to see the pale complexion and even paler silver locks of Draco Malfoy, she found herself nearly eye to eye with another girl who might have passed for her twin if the second girl had auburn curls, instead of brown, and blue-green eyes instead of brown. Far from anyone she could have imagined running into, Cassandra found herself once again face to face with Hermione Granger; but unlike before, this Hermione was nervous, playing with her fingers and appearing to work up the courage to look Cassandra in the eyes.
"I'm sorry," Hermione began, "so incredible sorry. Sorry doesn't even begin to cover how horrified I am by my actions the other day in the bookstore. It was uncalled for."
Cassandra looked at her in silence and shock, unable to form any sort of reply to the confession and apology she had just received.
"I don't expect for you to want to talk to me, especially after how I and Harry and Ron treated you. It isn't that I don't accept you, it is far from that. I was just…I was just surprised that's all. Most muggles aren't very fond of the wizarding world unless their children are wizards and even then they aren't very open to our world. And I as a muggle-born should have been more opened to you. I really am sorry and I know I have said that so many times already, but I am. I was wrong. You belong in our world just as much as we should be able to live in the muggle world."
"You have nothing to be sorry for Hermione," began Cassandra as she found her voice. "You were actually much more accepting than I was expecting. And I shouldn't be ashamed of who I am and I did come off in a very harsh, perhaps even a negative manner. I should probably say I am sorry as well; if I remember right, it is very possible that I was rude myself."
Cassandra was barely able to finish before an elated Hermione Granger threw herself at her, throwing her arms around her shoulders and pulling her into a hug. Surprised, but unalarmed, Cassandra hugged her back—for what else would she have done.
"Hermione, there you are. Harry and Ron were about to leave you behind if I hadn't come and find you."
Cassandra looked up to see the voice calling to Hermione belonged to a tall, and honestly stunning, redhead who, by the looks of it, must be related to Ron Weasley. Walking over, the redhead took Hermione's arm in her hand and began tugging.
"I'm not kidding 'Mione, they're threatening to sell our seats if you don't get a move on it."
Utterly bewildered by what was going on, Cassandra looked on as Hermione mouthed an "I'm sorry" as she was suddenly pulled off in the opposite direction and waved a hand as she rounded the corner out of sight.
"What was that all about?"
Cassandra turned around once again to see an equally bewildered Draco staring at her and motioned to the two girls who seconds before had rounded the corner.
"I have no idea. Hermione suddenly came up and apologized to me for what happened in the bookstore the other day and then all of a sudden this redheaded girl comes up and drags her away. No introduction, so sorry, no anything. I am beginning to think all of you wizards are crazy."
Lacing his arm in hers, Draco began to lead Cassandra up a private staircase and down a passageway past what looked to be reserved seats before he began. "That, was Ginevra Weasley, sister to Ron Weasley, and as you found out best friends with Harry Potter and your new friend Hermione Granger. While she is normally a very well-behaved and civil girl, when under pressure from her impatient brother—the Chudley Cannons are his favorite team, a fact well known when we were at Hogwarts—and when nagged by her easily excited boyfriend—Harry—she too can pick up the Weasley trait of being impatient."
"I am not even going to ask how you know all of that. I am just scared that the Draco Malfoy I know—who, as I have found out, is so unlike the Draco everyone else knows—knows so much about classmates he apparently used to hate."
Draco ruffled her hair, earning a very pointed look from Cassandra. "Well that's good because I think I wore myself out just explaining it once and I want to preserve my energy for explaining the match to you."
Draco stopped the two of them in front of a glass door leading into a currently empty room containing a set of four seats. Tapping the door a few times with his wand, the door swung open and Draco motioned for Cassandra to enter before him. Once through the door, Cassandra was once again shocked by how loud everything was around her. But once she reached the balcony railing before the seats the actual intensity of the Quidditch match dawned on her. All around her were what she assumed to be nearly 50,000 (at least) Quidditch fans and directly across from her was a screen so large that she could only assume that it was magically enhanced—an assumption made true when it magically lit up and began to display a few ground rules and facts about the game which was about to commence shortly. Below her was a magnificently green lawn and at each side of the field she noticed three extremely tall poles with circles attached to them, a total of six in all.
Cassandra lightly dropped herself into the seat behind her, hoping to catch her breath and even more to catch up with everything that was happening around her. She barely even noticed when Draco joined her and took the seat to her left.
"You have the same look on your face as I did at my first Quiditch match," mused Draco. "Although I was like, three feet tall and four years old. It's about time you caught up and did something everyone else your age is doing."
"You are enjoying this way too much Draco," Cassandra shifted in her seat to look at him directly. "But unless you want me to interrupt your concentration on the rest of the game, I suggest you start explaining the game more to me now instead of later. I have a feeling I am going to be asking you a lot of questions I might already know the answers to, just to test and see if your knowledge really is better than mine."
"You're scary when you smirk," chuckled Draco, but instead of wasting more time flirting back with her, he dived into explaining the many (and oftentimes complicated) rules that made up the most popular wizarding sport of all.
***
"It's right there! Dive for it!" Cassandra jumped out of her chair. "I don't believe it! He doesn't even see the bloody snitch, it's right in front of him! Wake up snoozer it's right in front of you."
Cassandra was now completely out of her chair and jumping around. She like Draco next to her and thousands of other Montrose Magpies fans were currently yelling at the Magpie seeker who was completely unaware of the snitch lurking to his right. Meanwhile, thousands of Cannon fans were yelling at their own seeker, trying to grab his attention towards the snitch as well. Suddenly, the snitch dashed to the left of the Magpie seeker, directly across his line of vision. Before she could even react herself, the Magpie seeker dashed forward and made a sharp left turn, diving toward the snitch.
It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. All around her, thousands of fans were rising to their feet, standing on their tiptoes and while it didn't make any sense, a near silence came over the stadium as the Magpie seeker continued his sharp decent towards the snitch, on the other side of the stadium, the Cannon seeker was dashing towards the snitch as well. It was unclear who was going to reach it first. Draco was leaning so far over the railing for a s split second Cassandra worried he might fall over, but she was too absorbed in the events around her to pay much attention to her male counterpart. Suddenly, the Magpie seeker was leaning forward on his broom. He was inching forward closer and closer to the handle. Hundreds of feet from the grassy floor he removed on hand and reached it out in front of him. Leaning down a bit more until nearly his whole body was touching the broom he picked up even more speed. He was now below the snitch. He quickly stopped and whipped his broom around. The seeker raised his hand, his body rising off his broom. All motion stopped for what seemed to be the longest two seconds in the history of time. The golden flash in front of the seeker disappeared and the roars of the crowd in return were deafening.
Fireworks sounded off above the stadium. Nearly every other wizard and witch in attendance was on their feet, a flood of black and white rising and falling as fans jumped up and down, congratulating each other on the win as if they themselves had caught the snitch. While the game had been anywhere but close before the snitch was caught (120-40, Magpies), there was nothing like the excitement of one's team catching the snitch.
Next to Cassandra, Draco was jumping up and down, shouting at the top of his lungs congratulating his favorite team and chanting along with the rest of the Magpie fans. And while Cassandra herself was beyond happy—moments before she too had been jumping up and down chanting "Magpies! Magpies! Magpies!"—she was now looking around her in awe. For what might have been on of the first times in her life, she left like she belonged, truly and wholeheartedly belonged in the wizarding world and it was a feeling she never wanted to leave. The smile on her face was unmatchable, spreading—if possible—from ear to ear. And suddenly again she was jumping up and down, shimmying as she danced around in a circle in front of her chair.
Draco watched on as Cassandra danced and danced next to him, making note of each curl that bounced up and down; how she raised her hands above her head and rolled her hands over and over each other; the way her hips swayed and the small details as well, as in how the coat his mother lent her hit the top of her hip and moved so well with her body; how, in spite of her hairpins, her curls were now wildly dancing around her face, which was now flushed in a manner that made her look the most beautiful he had ever seen her.
"Dance with me."
It was more of a command than a request, and even as he knew he was shaking his head no, Draco found himself taking Cassandra's outstretched hand and moving to a beat all of her own. He felt utterly ridiculous dancing around, the roars of pleasure from the crowd around them their music, but he wouldn't have done it for anyone but her.
"You're a good dancer," laughed Cassandra.
"I hate dancing," he grumbled in return, moving with her as she waltzed them around their small private balcony.
"You must not hate it that much; you're dancing with me now." Cassandra raised her head up to meet Draco's own grey eyes in return. The smile on her face now was so small, so delicate, it almost wasn't there at all, but Draco knew it was these small smiles of hers that meant the most. That behind that almost there upturn in her lips was the happiest Cassandra ever was, the small motions that came from the biggest emotions.
"I make a few exceptions." Cassandra raised her eyebrows. "You would have had no one else to dance with had I refused and what kind of gentleman would I be if I refused you, leaving you to dance all on your own."
Even as he was saying all of this, Draco dipped Cassandra. Her hair falling past her face and flying back up again as he pulled her back up and close against his body, raising her off the floor and twirling her around, her laughter intermingling with the noise of the crowd around them, slowly emptying the stadium knowing the second game would be postponed until tomorrow (as they always were), completely unaware that for the second time that night they were being watched.
***
Cassandra stirred as the sun streamed in through the open windows, falling against her face. Rolling over, she tried to find her bearings as she settled in further to the pillows and large down comforter around her. It took her a few minutes to realize that for the first time since she arrived at the Manor, she was waking up in her actual bed and not in the astronomy room. Opening her eyes, she came to the conclusion that it was much to bright to be so early in the morning and promptly closed her eyes against, snuggling deeper into the fluffy warmth around her. Even when she heard a consistent tapping at the window above her head, Cassandra just pushed the window open allowing the owl carrying her copy of The Daily Prophet into the room. Dropping the newspaper on her stomach, Cassandra reached over to the side table and groped for the correct change and motioned for the owl to take a few treats before flying off to deliver the rest of the papers to the inhabitants of the Manor. It was only when she knew that she wouldn't be falling back asleep that Cassandra reluctantly opened her eyes and pushed up the pillows behind her and reached over to open that morning's edition of the Prophet, but what she found when the paper fell open was enough to drive any other inklings of sleepiness out of her mind.
DRACO MALFOY MAKES FIRST PUBLIC APPEARANCE SINCE WAR WITH UNKNOWN BEAUTY
At last nights Montrose Magpies and Chudley Cannons Quidditch match (see Quidditch section E-2 for more details), this reporter was stunned to see the young Malfoy heir in attendance after his absence from the public eye for nearly a year and a half, other than his attendance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to complete his seventh year. Despite rumors that the young Draco Malfoy has been suffering a silent depression, this reporter found him talkative and more nothing near depressed as she watched him from her press seat. But what caught her eye most was not the reappearance of one of the most talked about Pureblood wizards of our present time, but the companion Draco brought out with him.
The unknown young lady, with brilliant auburn curls and blue-green eyes, was first seen with the Malfoy heir at a small sandwich shop in Restenneth Port before the match. The two teenagers were then seen walking together arm in arm through the stadium where a few minutes earlier the unknown auburn haired youth was seen conversing with the famous Hermione Granger and Ginevra Weasley (currently the top pick for the Holyhead Harpies' next seasonal draft). Following the terrific win by the Montrose Magpies, Draco and the mystery girl were seen dancing together in the Malfoy's private balcony seating, very much content in each other's company.
And while the wizarding world may be talking about the reappearance of the Malfoy heir, this reporter is more interested in the mysterious witch he brought along as his date and she won't stop her quest until the young lady's identity is known.
Cassandra stared in shock at the article before her. Along with the somewhat detailed description of the night she and Draco had had, there were no less than four photographs of them together. In each one, either she or Draco had a smile on their face. One was of Cassandra tossing a chip at Draco during their dinner together; another was of Cassandra talking with Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley right behind Hermione; one of Draco leaning in to Cassandra as he explained the rules of the game to her; and, yet one more of Draco and Cassandra dancing together. She watched herself and Draco dance together in this final photograph (having been so long in the wizarding world, she could make out the moving wizarding photos); she watched as Draco dipped her and pulled her up again, twirling her around.
How could it be possible that someone was following them? She hadn't noticed anyone lurking around them and she sure had not noticed anyone taking their pictures. But obviously someone had been very interested in their actions for nearly their entire evening together. She could understand why the wizarding gossip world would be interested in Draco and his first public appearance since the War, but in this article, the reporter was much more interested in her. Sitting up more fully, Cassandra pushed the paper off of her lap, letting it fall to the floor, every other article and page forgotten. Her eyes darted around the room nervously, even though in the back of her mind she knew no one could possibly be watching her, not with the security wards surrounding the outskirts of the Manor. But what worried her more was how Draco might react to the article. In the manner that she had read it, the reporter had made it sound like she and Draco were dating, or at least were more serious than they currently were. Then there was the fact that Mrs. Malfoy had requested they not bring too much attention to themselves—or had she just meant causing trouble, which they didn't do. Frustrated, Cassandra got out of bed, pulling on a zip-up hoodie over her—Draco's—pajamas; it wasn't going to do her any good sitting in bed all day, thinking and driving herself crazy. Cautiously opening the door, Cassandra made her way into the hallway, making a point at not being seen or heard as she looked for a place of refuge from the wave of questioning she knew would be along shortly from the three other Manor residents.
Meanwhile, elsewhere in the Manor, Narcissa and Phoenix where sitting together in the sunroom, a copy of The Daily Prophet open before them. Each watched as the photographic copies of Draco and Cassandra moved together in four different scenes, each of which were mentioned in the article around them.
"Perhaps you're overreacting Phoenix, maybe Cassandra won't be upset by the article. It could have been much worse. They don't even know who she is."
"But the fact that this Lavender Brown gossip columnist wants to know who she is, is going to bother her. Cassandra is very sensitive about her background, especially with her trying to get that position at the Ministry."
"Take a deep breath Phoenix, we can't assume just yet how Cassandra is going to react. We don't even have to show her the article. What she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"
"What won't hurt Cassandra?"
Narcissa and Phoenix's heads shot up at the sound of Draco's voice. Neither one was sure of what to do and neither one wanted to be the first to talk. But, luckily for them, neither one had to as Draco reached for the paper instead, his eyes widening at the sight of the article. The nervous silence in the room was deafening as Draco quickly read through the article, his eyes darting back and forth between the text, the photographs, and the two women before him.
"I don't get it. I never even saw Lavender Brown last night."
"Are you sure you never saw anyone following you Draco? You never saw anyone taking pictures around you," questioned his mother.
"We were at a Quidditch game Mother," there was a slight tone of frustration in Draco's voice. "There were thousands of people taking pictures and Merlin knows there must have been over 50,000 people there. But I swear, I didn't notice anything unusual, other than Cass's run-in with Granger."
"There is no point in arguing with him about it now Cissa, it's already written. And it is only a matter of time until Cassandra finds out about it. We'll just have to deal with it later. Let's just be happy it wasn't a more intrusive article and we should be more than happy that we haven't have endless owls delivering inquiries as to whom Draco was with last night. That is something to be thankful for."
"I have a feeling Cass has already seen this though," admitted Draco.
Phoenix abruptly turned towards him. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I went to her room before I came down to see if she wanted to make breakfast with me." Narcissa gave him a confused look. "She's teaching me how to cook," Draco added quickly. "But when I knocked on her door she didn't answer so I walked in. Her bed was empty and the Prophet was lying scattered on the floor. Her bed wasn't made either; she never doesn't make her bed unless she's upset or runs off somewhere."
"Good Merlin," breathed Phoenix. "He's right. But she has to be around here somewhere, where else could she have gone?"
"Should we go look for her?" asked Narcissa, a worried look on her face.
"Give her a few hours," Phoenix spoke in a slow and tired voice, "give her some time to think. She isn't used to being showered with attention. If she is acting anything like the Cassandra I have known for the past eleven years, she is somewhere trying to hide away from everyone, thinking and most likely over analyzing the whole situation. Just let her hide, she'll come out when she's ready."
***
Cassandra knew she was being childish, hiding away like some kind of criminal when she knew she had done nothing wrong. It had only been a single article, obviously written by a bored and gossip starved reporter. And yet here she was, three hours after waking up and hours before she was expected to be ready and downstairs with Narcissa, Phoenix, and Draco and whatever company they were expecting and she was hiding upstairs in one of the Malfoy's many libraries. Hidden among the many books, she felt safe; perhaps it was the familiarity that books brought her or the fact that it was among books that she felt as if she belonged, but either way, nothing could convince her that she needed to get up and be somewhere else.
Flipping over in her chair, Cassandra let her head fall, everything before her coming into focus and upside-down. Letting her legs hold her onto the chair, she raised a book towards her face, reading upside-down as well despite the head rush it gave her. "His emotion in entering the room, in seeing her altered looks, and in receiving the pale hand which she immediately held out for him, was such as in Elinor's conjecture, must arise from something more than his affection for Marianne, or the consciousness of its being known to others; and she soon discovered in his melancholy eye and varying complexion as he looked at her sister, the probable recurrence of many past scenes of misery to his mind…"***
"Phoenix was beginning to worry. I told her I would come and look for you. I knew I would find you in a library; she thought you might have gone for a walk, but I knew you would be here."
Cassandra slowly pulled and twisted herself up into the chair before standing up and turning to face him. She gently placed the book on the back of the chair, ensuring it wouldn't fall.
"I know I shouldn't have been hiding Draco. I just…I just wasn't expecting…" she trailed off and walked over to one of the bookcases, her fingers trailing over the spines and various titles.
"You weren't expecting for someone to write about you. You were prepared for them to be interested in me, but not you."
Cassandra blushed, turning away from him, unable to face him in her embarrassment and moment of weakness.
"Come on Cass, talk to me." Cassandra shivered, without even turning around, she knew how close Draco was behind her.
"It's just weird, don't you think? I am nothing of importance and yet, that girl, that writer, she was so interested in me. Interested in what you and I were doing together, just making assumptions when she didn't need to. They must have been following us all night—don't you think that's weird?"
"Are you asking if I think it's weird that we caught the attention of some gossip columnist who then followed us around all night? Wondering whom the mysterious beauty walking around with me and having a polite conversation with Hermione Granger was?"
Cassandra forced herself to turn around and look at Draco. "I just don't understand why she was so interested in me. I didn't do anything of importance or significance when I was out. No one other than you and Hermion28e even knew I was a muggle last night."
Draco stared at her with an incredulous look on his face. "Is that the only reason why you think someone would want to talk about you, because you're a muggle?"
Cassandra remained silent.
"Cass, why do you doubt that people would want to talk about you? Even without talking to you, people are able to see you're not like everyone else. You're kind, rarely anything gets you down, you're…you're beautiful and nothing holds you back from going out in public with a Death Eater's son. And those are only the things people observe about you from a distance. Once they get to know you, you're full of endless surprises."
Cassandra looked at Draco and couldn't help but see the intense sincerity in his eyes. In just the few weeks that he had known her, he somehow already knew her better than any one else had—other than her parents. And here he was, once again surprising her at how well he knew her. But there was one detail in his confession that stood out to her the most.
Barely above a whisper, Cassandra found her voice. "Did you say that I'm beautiful?"
Taking a step towards her, Draco brushed a few errant curls out of her face, cupping her cheek. And this time, Phoenix and Narcissa were nowhere in sight to interrupt as Draco leaned in and closed the gap between them as soft lips met in the shadows of the library.
Quotation Citation: Austen, Jane. Sense and Sensibility. Hertfordshire, England: Wordsworth Classics, 1992. Page 228.