Time seemed to have come to a complete halt. The rain continued pelting down hard and fast, but Cassiopeia had gone absolutely numb. It felt as if her heart had stopped in her chest, and the scream that ripped out of her chest wasn't human as she watched the thirteen year old boy she'd come to regard as a brother fall hundreds of feet towards the ground.
Lee Jordan was shouting into the air that Cedric Diggory had caught the Snitch, not having yet noticed that Harry Potter had fallen. It was hard to hear ringing through the storm. Barely a minute had passed before Cedric caught notice of what had happened, and the Snitch went flying out of his hand again as he shot towards the ground on his broom towards Harry's body. Cass barely noticed what he was doing. It was almost as if she had transferred to survival-only mode. Her mind just kept pleading, over and over again. Not him, not him, please not him… A very long moment that felt like years passed before Professor McGonagall took over Lee's post, calling out into the air.
"Everyone return to the castle immediately. Immediately."
The near-frozen hands of Eric rested on Cassiopeia's shoulders, trying to direct her towards the stairs, towards the exit, towards the castle. But she had completely frozen. Over her head, Gemma and Eric shared a look, the concern and distress reflecting in both of their expressions towards each other. They were stuck in a silent conversation. None of them noticed that Hermione and Ron had taken off, pushing through the mass of students, on their way closer to Harry.
It took the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw both to direct her out of the stands and into the castle. Masses of students, drenching the stone floors and chattering loudly. Everyone was wondering what the Dementors were doing in the Quidditch pitch. Everyone wanted to know if the Boy Who Lived had fallen to his death.
Despite the large masses of students, the trio somehow managed to make most of the journey back fairly easily. That is, until reaching a blockade made up of gossiping fourth years that kept the final staircase out of reach.
"He won't make it." One was saying, the proud colors of Ravenclaw visible despite how drenched the robes were. "Not from a fall like that. Potter was probably gone before he had even hit the ground, I don't know why they're-"
"Oi!" Gemma shouted as she and Eric attempted to push through the hoards of people, Cassiopeia safely between them. "Why don't the three of you take your obnoxious, incorrect and idiotic gossip elsewhere before I hex you?" She snapped, not noticing the brief look of smug expression that crossed Eric's face as the girls all paused and looked back towards them wide-eyed at Gemma. With the hand was wasn't firmly attached to her Gryffindor, she waved them off. "That's what I thought."
It didn't take long to reach the doors for the infirmary. The tall, lanky form of Ron Weasley was slumped onto the ground, tapping his foot impatiently, dripping a puddle onto the floor. Hermione had taken to pacing the corridor, worrying her nails in the process and leaving her own trail of water with every step she took.
"What is it?" Gemma asked, coming to a halt. "Is he not in there yet?"
"Farley." Eric snapped, "d'you think they'd be here if he wasn't?"
"You're right, Murley, of course you are. How dare I ask a simple question when they're turning the corridor into an imitation of the Black Lake-"
"This bickering is great and all, but maybe now isn't the time." Cassiopeia said, finally speaking for the first time since the incident. She was just as frozen and drenched as they all were, and her words shook despite the spark they still miraculously seemed to have. The raven and the badger both fell silent, two pair of eyes flitting between Cassiopeia and each other. "Yes, I am still here." She continued, her sapphire hues no longer shining as her attention turned towards the younger of her House-mates. "Hermione."
Immediately, Hermione came to a halt, turning in place to look towards the elder students. Despite being soaked to the bone, it was clear that she had been crying. "Oh, Cas." She cried, flinging herself at the McKinnon and awkwardly wrapping her arms around her best she could, around the others. "Oh, it's horrible. Madame Pomfrey won't let us in to see him, when Professor Dumbledore got him here he still wasn't awake-"
"Let her breathe, Hermione." Ron mumbled, pushing himself off the ground, a visible puddle where he had been. Eric was quick to remove himself from the lion, knowing she was where she was needed, and though it took several moments of bickering he finally managed to release Gemma's grip as well.
"I'm going to go find Diggory." He said quietly to Cassiopeia, as if speaking in secret. She managed a weak nod in response from the top of Granger's bushy head, and with that, he was gone, the Ravenclaw following along, after a quick, "I love you, I do. But I would like to feel my fingers again at some point today."
The rain had begun to let up by the time Eric had returned to the front of the castle, but not by much. Water was still rapidly pelting down onto the roof, and it was impossible not to hear the impact the weather had on the lake outside. With his clothes and robes both still soaked completely, the idea of returning into the storm was the opposite of appealing. Still, he had promised to find Cedric, and without Gemma it wouldn't be nearly as annoying if it would still be miserable.
And yet, finding a way to bring himself to leave the warm and dry safety of the castle was impossible.
Save for the teams still down in the pitch, or moreso the locker rooms, the majority of the Hogwarts student body had made their way back to the castle. While most immediately fled to their common rooms to warm up and dry themselves, a far few meandered in far and few between places. Many of them spoke in whispers, but it was easy enough to pick up on what they were talking about.
Harry Potter died!
What if it was Sirius Black?
No, you idiot, it was the Dementors.
If he had it his way, the rumors would all stop, and not just for Cassiopeia's sake. For whatever reasons he didn't know, the topic of Sirius Black made her absolutely pale and stiff but aside from that it just wasn't interesting. A criminal was on the loose, the 'Boy Who Lived' may be in danger once again...none of it was new. But of course, having a friend like Gemma made everything too annoying to think about after a day of listening to her obsess.
It didn't help that even in his own common room, the gossip was everywhere. There was a reason he spent so much of his free time in the library. At least there, you were expected to be quiet. And strange as it was, McKinnon seemed to feel the same way, increasingly so in the months since returning to Hogwarts. It would be a lie to say none of them worried, but at least Eric knew better than to blatantly ask about it.
Quiet as she had become, she was a lion. Hell hath no fury.
Letting out a heavy sigh, accepting the fact that he would likely be catching a dreadful cold, Eric prepared himself to push through the oak doors and return to the sloppy, soaking grounds. Almost as if on cue, as soon as the choice was made, the doors to the castle opened and the darkened, scarlet robes of the Gryffindor team filled the corridor, rushing towards the stairs. To the hospital, no doubt. Eric paid them them no mind, waiting until they'd gotten out of the way before reaching for the doors.
Just as he prepared to step out, the familiar canary robes of his own house appeared in front of him, just as soaked as his own.
"Oh, thank bloody Merlin." He muttered, wasting no time in allowing Cedric in from the storm. "You're my best friend, mate but I was not looking forward to going back into that."
"Thanks." Cedric muttered, shaking out his hair to attempt drying it out. "Where is she?"
"Hospital. Pomfrey wasn't letting anyone in yet when we got her up there. Granger and the Weasley kid were there, to nobody's surprise. She's with them."
Cedric nodded, peeling his drenched Quidditch robes off, the once dry clothes underneath sufficiently wet from the rain. "I should get up there."
"Ced - is he alive? Potter, was he alive?" Listening to the gossip and caring about it had been one thing, but this was somebody's life. Somebody who his friend cared about.
Cedric stopped abruptly, turning his attention squarely to him. "Yeah. He was alive. Unconscious, and that Nimbus of his took off halfway down...but he was alive when Dumbledore got to him."
That weekend provided a much appreciated break, for everyone, it seemed. While the gossip continued on throughout the castle, by Saturday afternoon it no longer only involved what had happened at the Quidditch match - something Cassiopeia took great relief in. Madame Pomfrey insisted on keeping Harry in the hospital for the entirety of the weekend, and the McKinnon had taken to visiting him several times a day, regardless of the never-ending company of Ron and Hermione that he seemed to have, or his seemingly constant moping over the unrepairable damage the Whomping Willow had done to his broom.
Cedric had gone with her during one of these trips, and had done nothing but insist on apologizing profusely, saying over and over again that he had done everything he could to have the match considered a forfeit. It wasn't until the ninth time he had brought it up that Cass had decided it was time to leave and allow Harry to rest, with the promise that she would be back after dinner, on her way back to Gryffindor Tower.
Cassiopeia was also taking the cold that Gemma seemed to have gotten from the rain as a blessing. The Ravenclaw spent most of the weekend holed away in her dormitory, and while she was missed, Cass would be lying to say she wasn't appreciative for the break in commentary that she was certain would involve nothing but Harry.
And, despite all she'd done to ignore it, she couldn't help the sting of disappointment she felt when Lupin didn't try to talk to her about the incident at the game the entire weekend, and it certainly wasn't for lack of trying. Everything she had ever heard her godparents tell her about the lack of subtlety she'd inherited from her mother only continued to be proved, as she went out of her way to be sure she walked past his classroom several times each day in the hopes that he would pull her aside and ask how Harry was, at the very least.
How stupid to think that after their talk over tea, that her professor would want anymore to do with her than he had all year; namely, nothing.
Still, somehow between her attempts at attention from her seemingly disappeared professor, and the time she was spending with Harry, the lion had remembered to write back to her aunt. She remained hopeful that Mandra would reach the African school that Emmeline was visiting in time for a chance to speak to her that upcoming Monday evening. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, especially considering her owl had yet to return, but Cassiopeia needed to speak to her, and the sooner the better.
Which was how, when, after dinner on Monday evening, the McKinnon had ended up in an armchair by the fire in Gryffindor tower, staring absentmindedly towards the flames. It was still early, and there were plenty of students still about, but she was determined to stay in place for as long as it would take to find out if this would be the night.
"Oi," a familiar voice said suddenly, causing the McKinnon to, once again, jump out of her skin for a moment.
"Bloody hell, Fred!" She exclaimed once she'd regained herself, "what in the name of Merlin did you sneak up on me for?"
"Sneak up on you?" The Weasley repeated, his grin faltering for a moment. "I've been here. All you've been doing is staring at the fire like it's going to help you pass your end of term exams. And I just have to say, if that's the case, on behalf of my brother and myself, it's very rude for you not to share said secrets."
"Very funny," she muttered, rolling her eyes. "If the fire held a way to pass exams, don't you think we would know by now?"
Fred let out a low whistle, leaning closer to her. "Okay, McKinnon. What's the deal? And you'd better not try telling it's nothing because I would like to think I know you better than that by now."
"I'm waiting for Emmeline," she snapped quietly, glancing around, checking to be sure nobody was looking in their direction. "Okay? Are you happy?"
All she got in return was a blank stare from the ginger. His mouth only continued to open and shut several times like a fish. Clearly, he had been expecting, or at least hoping, for one of her usual snarky retorts and without one Cass was certain it was the first time she'd ever seen him at a loss for words.
"She wants to talk to me about Black," she continued quietly, taking advantage of his silence and the nearby younger years' oblivion. "I might get answers, Fred, you know I need them."
"What do you need me to do?"
A sense of relief she hadn't felt in far too long returned. "I need the common room empty at lights out. Of everyone. She...well, I don't know how she'll be getting here, or really if she's even going to be here tonight," she sighed, shaking her head and raking a hand through her unruly onyx curls. "I'm just hoping it'll be tonight."
"Give me and George an hour. We'll have something to clear this place out in time. And if she doesn't come tonight, we'll do it again when she does."
And with that, Fred was gone, leaving Cassiopeia alone in front of the fire to listen to the chatter of her housemates as the evening faded into the night.
A/N: Another relatively short chapter, I know. I can't make many excuses other than that my classes have really just been killing me and I've had to really focus. However, I have more updates in the works so there will be more to come! Thanks as always for the growing support this is getting, and as always, reviews and the like are always welcome and appreciated! x.