Cassandra walked inside, sighing as she saw that Dumbledore was standing at the pensieve, another vial in his hand.

"How are classes so far?" he asked. "Everything going alright?"

"Besides my dad picking on me for being the only one to have gotten more than one nonverbal spell correct in the past week? Or Slughorn constantly awarding points because somehow all of my potions end up not exploding everywhere? Or Aunt Minnie constantly dropping not-so-subtle hints that she wants me to pursue a career in Transfiguration? Great."

"Minerva and your father only want what's best for you. You have yet to choose a career, after all." He chuckled at her expression. "You thought Severus was the only one Minerva has tea with?" Dumbledore sighed and held up the vial so she could see. "This particular one happens to be mine. It came from a visit I once made to a muggle orphanage. I'm rather certain you can guess who I was there to see?" He tipped the vial over into the pensieve. "After you."

Cassandra nodded and bent over into the memory.

She blinked in surprise, hurrying to catch up with a much younger-looking Dumbledore. She glanced around, seeing that this time, the older Dumbledore had elected to not come with her. She groaned in frustration, yet continued on, half-jogging to keep up with the pace.

He came to the door of an orphanage and knocked. Cassandra glanced over at the sign posted on the building.

Wool's Orphanage

This is an orphanage? Merlin. She glanced over at the dim gray exterior and cracked windows. She was glad that her father had kept her at home, and even then, she would've had two godparents willing to raise her.

"Yes?" a woman asked, answering the door.

"I'm Professor Dumbledore," he introduced. "I'm here to speak with Mrs. Cole regarding Tom Riddle?"

"Ah. Yes. You're right on time." The woman smiled and stepped aside to allow him to enter. "If you'll please follow me."

They entered the building. Cassandra looked around, seeing that the interior was slightly more cared for than the exterior. At least, it looked far more livable than it had seemed. Several children ran by, giggling as they chased after one another.

"It seems as if you raise the children well here," Dumbledore commented.

"Oh yes. They're all well-looked after. They have holiday trips where we take the children out to the sea for some fun." smiled in a way that made Cassandra suspicious. She always hated when adults gave that reassuring smile that meant they were hiding something but didn't want anyone to know what it was. "I was rather concerned when you called asking about Tom." She motioned toward her office. "If we may chat in here for a bit before going to visit the boy?"

Cassandra tilted her head as she followed them inside. The way Mrs. Cole had said 'that boy' sounded as if she didn't think he was actually human in a way.

"Shall we start with how he ended up in an orphanage?" Dumbledore suggested as he took a seat. "Didn't he have any family to care for him?"

"He did…." Mrs. Cole sighed as she sat down at her desk. "His mother came in one night. There was this blizzard, and I suppose we were the only shelter she could find. The poor dear. I remember the night she came. Woman comes in, clutching her stomach, yelling off her head in pain—she was pregnant, you see. Unfortunately, we had no choice but to help her deliver the child here. The poor thing lived long enough to give him a name before she died. We've been looking after Tom ever since."

"Is that so?"

"You mustn't mistake me for anything," she argued. "But there have been...complications with Tom's upbringing. There have been several incidents involving the other children. We try to catch him at it to discipline him, but he somehow manages to worm his way out." She sighed and stood. "Why don't we go and visit him before I start going off about what he's done, hm?"

Dumbledore nodded and went to follow her. Cassandra ran after them, going up several flights of stairs before they stopped at a door. Mrs. Cole knocked.

"Tom? You have a visitor."

Dumbledore opened the door and stepped inside. "Hello, Tom. How are you?"

The boy looked at Dumbledore with suspicion. Cassandra blinked in surprise. She knew they were visiting the younger version of Voldemort, but she hadn't thought that he would be quite as handsome a boy as he was. He certainly hadn't inherited any of his mother's looks. Hopefully he hadn't also inherited her family's insanity.

"May I sit?"

He nodded and Dumbledore lowered himself into the one chair. "I'm Professor Dumbledore," he pointed out. "I understand that you've had some 'incidents' here?"

"Make her go away first," Tom nodded toward the door where Mrs. Cole was still lurking.

"Do you mind?" Dumbledore asked.

"Right. Of course." She sighed and closed the door, her footsteps retreating down the hall.

"I can make things move without touching them," Tom began once he was satisfied that Mrs. Cole had left. "I can make people do things without talking to them. I can make them hurt if I want them to."

"Do you know why, Tom?"

"I'm different. They all think I'm mental—she tried to send me to a sanitorium once—but I know what I am. I'm special and they're ordinary."

"You have magic, Tom," Dumbledore explained. "You're a wizard."

"A wizard?" He rolled his eyes. "Is that what you're calling it? Because I know your tricks, professor. You really think you can get me to go along with you just so you can have me be locked away for the rest of my life?"

"The place I'm hoping you'll attend is not a place for mad people. It's a place for special young children like yourself. Children who can perform magic."

"I know what you are." He got to his feet. "And I want you to leave."

Dumbledore glanced over at the wardrobe and something began to rattle within it. "I think something is trying to escape, Tom."

The young boy eyed Dumbledore with suspicion before walking over to open the wardrobe. He reached in and straightened, holding a small tin box in his hands.

"What do you have in that, I wonder?"

He walked over and dumped the contents out on the bed, spreading out the miscellaneous toys.

"Hogwarts does not tolerate stealing, Tom," Dumbledore instructed. "At Hogwarts, you'll be taught magic and how to properly use it for good." He stood and held out a letter toward him. "I trust I'll be seeing you for the next term?"

Tom hesitantly nodded, taking the letter from him. "Will I have to come back here?"

"It is a boarding school, so you'll only need to return on holidays and once the term has ended. But other than that, there are dormitories for you to stay in."

"I'm a wizard," he whispered in amazement. "I can do magic." He slowly sat on the edge of the bed.

"I'll leave so that you can have time alone with your thoughts," Dumbledore offered, turning to leave.

"Is that why I can talk to snakes?"

Dumbledore paused and turned. "I'm sorry?"

"Why I can talk to snakes," he repeated. "Is that because I have magic?"

"Since when have you been able to do this?"

"Since before I can remember. They find me sometimes and tell me things...all sorts of things, really. It's because I have magic, isn't it?"

"Yes…. I suppose it is."

Cassandra blinked, looking over at Dumbledore as the memory ended.

"No, I didn't know that young boy would grow up to become one of the darkest wizards this world has ever seen," Dumbledore began. "I did have my suspicions, but nothing like what he has managed to accomplish so far."

"He just looked like any other boy though. Just any other ordinary boy who had been told that he could go to Hogwarts."

"I suppose that is one way of looking at it."

"Why didn't you come with me that time?"

"Because I've seen that memory so many times. I've replayed it over and over in my head, wondering if perhaps I could've sensed something about Tom and who he would become, that perhaps I could've stopped all of this before it ever began."

"You couldn't have known, professor. No one could've."

"I suppose you are correct in that matter." He sighed and stood. "But we can never know what could've been. Only what's happened."

"So he was a young boy?" Luna asked as they walked toward Hogsmeade. "Seems odd to think of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named as a young child."

"Agreed." Cassandra sighed and shoved her hands into her pockets. "I mean, I suppose we were all kids at one point, but it's hard to imagine. I can't even think of my dad as a kid, let alone You-Know-Who."

"I bet he was nice as a child. Your father." She smiled. "Have you had any more success on learning who wrote in the book?"

"The Half-Blood Prince, you mean? Not really. I've tried searching through all of the half-bloods, but that's led nowhere. Not to mention how many half-bloods have been at Hogwarts within the last fifty years!"

"Too bad there isn't a way to narrow it down."

Cassandra groaned in frustration as she saw Draco and the other Slytherins gathered around him.

"It's always nice to have friends, isn't it?" Luna pointed out.

"Not when they're purebloods intent on keeping you away from anyone who isn't one," Cassandra muttered.

"Yes. There is that, I suppose."

She tilted her head, watching as Slughorn entered the Three Broomsticks. "Fancy a drink, Luna?"

"Not particularly, but I do enjoy going into places."

She nodded and led the blonde witch inside, selecting a table toward the center of the room.

"What will it be?" Madam Rosmerta asked once they had sat down.

"A butterbeer," Cassandra ordered. "Luna?"

"I'm alright, but thank you."

"One butterbeer then." Rosmerta smiled as she walked toward another table.

Cassandra sighed, watching as Draco and his group found another table to sit down at on the other side of the Three Broomsticks.

"He is rather nice," Luna commented, drawing her finger along the wooden table in various patterns that didn't make sense to Cassandra. "I think you'd look cute together."

"Who'd look cute together?" Weasley asked, bringing Granger with him.

"No one." Luna smiled. "Hello there. Won't you sit?"

They took the other chairs and Cassandra glanced around for Madam Rosmerta, deciding that a butterbeer would be much better company than the redhead and know-it-all on either side of her. Or maybe a fire whiskey despite being underage—not to mention the lashing she would get from both her father and Aunt Minnie from even just touching the drink.

Instead, she found Draco being fawned over by Parkinson and Greengrass. Zabini glanced over at her from where he was slumped at the edge of the booth, a half-filled butterbeer in his hand. Their eyes met. He rolled his, shrugged, and took a large drink as if to say "This wasn't my idea, but I was still dragged along. Sorry about Pansy.". She decided she liked Zabini and considered him as more of an ally than an actual friend.

"Look who's here," Weasley muttered.

"It's just Ginny and Dean," Granger pointed out. "Holding hands...and snogging…."

"I ought to go over there and give them a piece of my mind!"

"Would you sit down, Ronald, before you make a mess of things?"

"Your drink," Rosmerta announced, setting the butterbeer before Cassandra. "Can I get you something else?"

"I don't think my dad would let me." She sighed and leaned back in the chair, staring down at the drink in her hand before taking a sip.

"We'll see you boys in a bit," Parkinson called out, shoving both of the Greengrass girls off to the loo.

Draco absently nodded and slumped further into his seat, propping his feet up on the now unoccupied chair. "Why do girls always have to go to the loo together? It makes no sense. Do they all have to go at once or something?"

Blaise shrugged. "Who knows?"

He sighed and turned, seeing Cassandra with the Lovegood girl she always hung around with, Weasley, and Granger. Draco felt a twinge of longing as Lovegood said something that made Cassandra smile while the other two looked on in confusion.

"You do have legs you know," Blaise pointed out. "You can go over there."

"Go where?" He turned to glare at the other Slytherin. "She said she didn't want to come with us, so what's the point in going over there?"

"Did you ever consider that maybe she didn't want to come because she didn't want to get shoved off into a corner while you were fawned over by the girls?" Blaise sighed and took another drink of the butterbeer, emptying the glass, which he sat down on the table. "Same way I am, now that I think about it." He fished out a few sickles from his pocket to pay for the drink before draping his coat over his arm. "Have fun."

"What are you discussing?" a voice asked.

Cassandra looked up, seeing who had appeared at her shoulder. "Thestrals."

"Interesting. Mind if I join?"

"You?" Weasley eyed him with suspicion. "You want to join us?"

"Why not? Better company than them right now." He nodded toward the table where the other Slytherin girls were now returning.

"If you can find a chair then sure," Cassandra offered.

"Great." He did and nudged his way right between Cassandra and Weasley much to the redhead's annoyance. "So, thestrals?"

"They don't exist," Granger pointed out. "But these two seem to still be convinced that something's pulling the carriages."

"Are thestrals those weird skeleton horses with wings?" Zabini asked.

"Yes." Luna nodded. "But they're much more gentler than anyone would think."

"So that's what those things are! Been wondering what to call them."

"You can see the thestrals?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes. Think it took about my...third year?" He shrugged. "Can't remember off the top of my head. Mostly because one of those was spent wondering if I was just seeing things. One year there weren't any, and the next there were."

"Still sounds rubbish," Weasley pointed out. "Especially coming from you! Sounds like just the sort of thing a Slytherin would say to get under your skin! Invisible skeleton horses that no one can see!"

"Luna and I were the ones to bring up the topic," Cassandra pointed out. "And we're both Ravenclaws. Zabini just agreed with us."

"Don't mind him." He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Most Gryffindors just see the green and silver. I've learned to ignore it. No point in wasting time over pointless rivalries. Though it does make the Quidditch matches more interesting."

She sighed and leaned back in her chair, pausing as Slughorn walked by. Cassandra stood. "Professor?"

"Ah, Miss Johnson!" Slughorn greeted, making his way over to her. "Good to see you here. Having a nice chat, I see?"

"Just discussing thestrals," Cassandra explained. "And how some people can't see them while others can."

"Sounds like a riveting topic. You ought to bring the subject up at one of my dinner parties, which I have been meaning to host soon. You are invited, of course." He turned toward the gathered students. "And you, Miss Granger, and Mr. Zabini, are welcome to join as well."

"Sounds delightful, sir," Granger pointed out.

"As you wish," Zabini muttered.

"Excellent! Look for my owl!" Slughorn beamed.

"Will do," Cassandra promised, sitting back down as Slughorn left.

"Though I expect it will be just like any other dinner party I've been to," Zabini muttered. "Still better than sitting in the Slytherin common room all night."

"You seemed rather friendly," Weasley pointed out. "What are you trying to do? Get extra points in class or something?"

"Can't I just be nice to be nice?" Cassandra argued.

"As if you need to," Granger chimed in. "Or are you finally planning on tossing that old book where it belongs?"

"No."

"Book?" Zabini asked, eyes darting between the two girls.

"Cass here—"

"Cassandra."

"—seems to have found a book that someone made notes in that tells her how to brew potions to impress Slughorn!"

"Most of those are based in theory. Just because they haven't actually been proven to work doesn't mean that they can't be true."

"Fair statement there," Zabini agreed. "Most of your changes have been theory based. It's nice to know where they actually came from though. Helpful information there." A slight smile appeared at the edge of his lips.

Cassandra eyed him as another butterbeer was set before the Slytherin. He ran his finger along the rim and stuck it in his mouth to clean off the cream he had gathered. Blaise did look like the more innocent of the Slytherins—but in that moment of a hinted smile and glint in his eyes—Cassandra had realized that his perceived innocence and willing to help only made him far more dangerous than anyone would ever suspect.

She decided that it would be far more helpful to have him as an ally than a friend and far less dangerous than if he were an enemy. She was grateful that she had been sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Gryffindor. She also made a note to herself to ensure that the textbook found a nice hiding place with a few extra protection charms should Zabini ever decide to pay the Ravenclaw dormitory a visit.

Granger and Weasley seemed to have grown more wary of Zabini in that short time span as well given how many uneasy glances they shot his way. Luna, however, seemed either blissfully unaware or simply didn't care—Cassandra often had a difficult time sorting out those two when it came to her.

"So…." Granger sighed. "What does your family do for a living?"

"Nothing." Zabini shrugged. "Mom has enough money to last her three lifetimes."

"And your dad?"

"Dead. Just like the others. She keeps remarrying and they keep dying. Must be cursed or something. All I know is that one of them was my dad. The rest just popped by for a visit."

Definitely going to have to hide the book when I get back, Cassandra thought to herself as she drank the butterbeer. And maybe keep a closer eye on him.

"Don't worry," he muttered, glancing over at her. "Not planning on hexing you or anything. Too dirty. Prefer to pay people to do that sort of thing. Besides, someone rumored to be the daughter of a Death Eater is too interesting of an opportunity to pass up."

"Not interested in going on a date."

"Who ever said anything about that? Sort of already decided for me, remember? Pureblood status and all." He smirked. "I was rather thinking of something else, actually. If you're interested?"

"She's not," Granger argued. "Come on, Cass. Let's go."

Zabini grabbed her arm to stop her from moving as the other two left. "You know, if you were going to go with a nickname, 'Cass' doesn't really suit you."

"I'm not."

"It was only a suggestion." He shrugged. "Now, about the offer?"

She turned to face him. "Why would I get involved in anything when I don't even know what you're planning? I know Slytherins, so I'm not making any deals with one until I know what I'm getting into."

"You're at least smarter than some of the others I've met." He smirked, grabbed her face, and kissed her on the lips before she could protest or say anything. "Thanks for the conversation. It was rather...enlightening." Zabini stood, leaving Cassandra staring at his empty chair in confusion and shock.

"That was unexpected," Luna pointed out. "I do hope we'll see him again. He was nice to talk to."

Cassandra shuddered and wiped her mouth with her sleeve before standing to leave as well. She hadn't particularly considered dating anyone before—having to get her magic under control took priority over relationships in her opinion. It would have put a damper on things if she had accidentally cursed someone in the middle of a snogging session.

Then again, she had never given much idea to what she was feeling. She couldn't delve too deeply into what she felt given how closely the unstable magic was tied to her emotional state. However, if she really did put thought to it, Blaise Zabini would not have been on the list of people she would've wanted to kiss her. Which made it even more infuriating that he was a Slytherin, which meant that there was another ulterior motive to what he had just done in the Three Broomsticks.

She stopped, a loud scream echoing before them. Cassandra took off running toward the source, wand in hand. It didn't take too long to figure out where the source was as a girl plummeted toward the ground. Cassandra skidded to a halt, staring as the girl twitched and convulsed.

She held an arm out to stop Luna from approaching closer. Sadly, Cassandra had encountered more dark magic artifacts in her life than anyone should, and she knew how to feel the aura of a cursed object and the curse it had placed on an unwilling victim. She glanced around to see that no one else had taken notice—how was that even possible?—before firing red sparks into the air.

Hardly a minute passed before Hagrid approached, slowing down as he saw the startled students before him. He walked over and picked up the still-twitching girl in his arms.

"Can you levitate that?" he asked, nodding toward the package that had been laying on the ground a bit away from the cursed girl. "Don't touch it. Understand? Need to take it to Professor Snape."

Cassandra nodded before waving her wand to place the necklace back into its box. She then waved her wand again and levitated the box itself in front of her, following Hagrid back to the castle.

Hopefully they would be able to get her to the hospital wing in time before things got worse.

Blaise sighed, flipping through the book as he lounged on the sofa in the common room. He rolled his eyes as footsteps approached and Draco stopped, glaring at him.

"Have fun over at that table, did you?"

"Quite so," he muttered, turning the page. "Learned a bit of information that may prove helpful in the future."

"You think I didn't see what you did over there?" he growled.

Blaise looked up, finding the frustrated expression on Draco's face quite amusing and satisfactory. "I was counting on it, actually. Glad to see it wasn't wasted."

The blonde took his wand out and pointed it at him. "The next time you try to snog her, I'll hex you so badly that not even your mom can pay for your recovery! You'll be spending the rest of your life drooling over some bed in St. Mungo's!"

"Whatever you say."

Draco huffed and turned, heading up toward the dormitory. Blaise smirked as he read over the next chapter.

So that's how much Draco cared about Cassandra. Sadly neither one of them seemed to want to admit it, having to satisfy themselves with only glances and sighs. The only problem though was that Parkinson seemed determined to make either herself or one of the Greengrass girls marry Draco. That would have to go away soon. Blaise frowned, filtering through the information he had gathered from all the years of sitting through their conversations. He would have to figure out a way to make the girls go away.

Cassandra Johnson…. Blaise decided that she would be an interesting Ravenclaw to recruit as one of his resources. She didn't want to be a part of his collection, but he knew better. Once he did something major for her—like get her and Draco together—and she would be in the palm of his hand.

He had a plan of how to best get them on his side.

The only question was how to begin.