CHAPTER SEVEN: METAMORPHOSIS

3 April 1997

Cassiopeia woke up in mind-splitting pain. Her bones felt like they were splintering, and every muscle fought the slightest movement. Cassiopeia's back arched off her back, and her mouth opened in an involuntary silent scream as she struggled to breathe. The Cruciatus had been worse, but there was something uniquely horrible about waking up in unbelievable pain.

"Zeesey!" she gasped.

The house elf popped into view, eyes wide.

A fresh wave of pain washed over Cassiopeia. "Get...Snape," she struggled.

The house elf vanished with a pop, and Cassiopeia gritted her teeth. She wasn't sure if she was waiting for seconds, minutes, or hours when Snape arrived.

"It's happening," he murmured. His hand was cool under the back of her head as he pressed a potions vial to her lips. "Drink."

Cassiopeia choked down the potion, scarcely noticing the chalky flavor. The pain receded slightly, and Cassiopeia curled into a ball, tears streaming freely down her face.

"It hurts," she whimpered, eyes slitted against the pain.

Snape stared at her impassively. "It is a completely understandable side effect. Your body is accustomed to a certain structure, and change at your age is unwelcome."

Cassiopeia gasped as a fresh wave of pain rolled over her. "How long… will it last?"

"I don't know."

"Make it...stop."

"I can give you a dose of Dreamless Sleep, which will knock you out for eight hours. If you choose to take it, you will not be able to consume another pain potion for the next twelve hours. There are a few alternatives to reduce pain, but they are less effective."

Tears seeped out of Cassiopeia's eyes. "Please…"

Snape's hand supported her head, and he held another vial to her lips. "Drink."

Cassiopeia did as she was bid, and knew no more.

When she awoke, it was in a fresh haze of pain. Her head throbbed, and her brain felt like it was going to seep out of her ears. Her skin burned and crawled. She tried to scream, but her throat was too dry, and it came out as a weak rasp. A glass was held to her lips, and she drank greedily from it before it vanished, and was replaced by a vial.

"Drink," said a voice. It sounded familiar, but Cassiopeia couldn't place it, lost as she was in a sea of pain.

Cassiopeia drank, and retreated into the recesses of her mind as her body continued to twitch.

Some indeterminate amount of time later, she opened her eyes. Her body still ached, but the mind numbing pain was gone. Shakily, she reached for the glass of water on her bedside table and took a sip.

"Feeling better?"

Cassiopeia started, and her body shrieked in protest. Snape rose fluidly from the window seat and strode toward her.

"Any residual pain?"

If Cassiopeia was more naive, she would have thought he sounded concerned. "I feel like I got runover by a herd of rampaging hippogriffs."

"Hm."

Cassiopeia waited for him to comment further, but he didn't.

"When you recover sufficiently to leave your bed, call Zeesey to draw you a bath. I left potions which should be added to the water to alleviate any lingering soreness." Snape turned to leave. "Dalpey will bring lunch to your room; however, I will expect you at dinner."

"Wait!"

Snape stopped, hand on the door handle. He raised an eyebrow.

"How long was I out?"

"Slightly over twenty-four hours. It is currently eleven in the morning."

Cassiopeia gaped as Snape swept out of her room, closing the door behind him with a click. She'd been unconscious for nearly twenty-four hours. Just how much had she changed? For a moment, she didn't even want to know.

Cassiopeia pushed herself to sitting, and squared her shoulders, wincing at the movement. It was stupid to procrastine the inevitable, no matter how much she wanted to. Slowly, Cassiopeia made her way across her room and into the ensuite, eyes fixed on her feet. Taking a deep breath, Cassiopeia raised her eyes to look in the mirror.

A stranger stared back.

It was odd, the rationale part of her brain remarked, how much coloration changed the way a person looked. She'd always had a bit of bronze in her skin tone due to her supposed mother's Greek heritage. All of that color had been leached away, and her hair darkened from dark brown to black. It would have been an unusual and almost pretty combination if it weren't for her eyes, which were a disturbing shade of violet.

Hands shaking, Cassiopeia studied the rest of her appearance. She was taller by two or three centimeters, and much thinner. There was something different about her nose. Her breasts were smaller, too.

Tears pricked in the corners of her eyes. She hadn't been pretty before, but she'd been able to manage well enough if she put effort into it. She'd liked being able to put on a decent tan in the summer, and being able to look feminine on her terms. She'd liked the feeling of smug satisfaction when Ron and Harry had realized that yes, she was a girl, and she'd secretly revelled in her roommates' jealousy.

It would have been better if her eyes had stayed brown. Then, at least, she could have pulled off some sort of Wednesday Addams look. The violet eyes ruined it. They pierced her, accusing her as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Cassiopeia tore her gaze away from her reflection and wrapped her arms around herself. She sank to the floor, hugging her knees. Once again, she was completely lost for answers. It was an occurrence that was happening more and more often, and Cassiopeia hated it. Life had been so much easier when all the answers were found in books, and she didn't need to worry about a homicidal mother or being the weirdest looking girl in Hogwarts.

Another wave of sadness washed over her, and fresh tears ran down her face. How was she supposed to handle this? She hadn't even finished Hogwarts, and already she was expected to take on larger responsibilities than most of the Order. What had Dumbledore been thinking?

More importantly, what had she been thinking? It was a sobering thought, and a testament to how much of Snape's cynicism she'd picked up over the past few months. Knowing what she knew now, Cassiopeia doubted she would have accepted Dumbledore's plan so readily. Sure, she would have accepted it in the end, but not without some serious questions.

She hadn't realized how much of her old self she would need to give up.

She also still didn't understand why they hadn't Obliviated Draco Malfoy, and anyone else who'd seen her family tree.

A lot of things weren't quite adding up.

Cassiopeia shuddered, unsure if she wanted to cry, scream, or curl up in a ball on the floor. Life had been so much easier when the war was an abstract concept. The Order was good, the Death Eaters were bad, and once they defeated Voldemort, it'd all be over. Unfortunately, reality was proving to be more complicated than she'd ever imagined, and it was only going to get worse. The real kicker was that she could do nothing about it.

She was the daughter of Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange. Nothing in the universe could change that. All she could do was stand and fight.

With a supreme amount of effort, Cassiopeia stood, doing her best to ignore the pain throbbing through every muscle and bone. "Zeesey?"

The house elf popped into the ensuite. "How can Zeesey be helping Miss?"

"Draw me a bath, please. Snape left potions…"

Zeesey snapped her fingers, and the bath filled. Several potions bottles floated over, and poured themselves into the water. "Miss should be staying in the bath for at least thirty minutes," the house elf lectured. "When Miss is done, Miss can be calling Zeesey if she still is being sore. Zeesey can be bringing more potions from Master Snape."

"Thank you, Zeesey."

The house elf popped away, and Cassiopeia gingerly climbed in the bath, desperate to ignore the world for at least a little while longer.

Several hours later, after ingesting several more potions and some lunch, Cassiopeia made her way down to the library. Her entire body still ached, but now it felt like she was recovering from a long illness rather than being actively beat up by a horde of hippogriffs. Snape was sitting at a desk by the window, lank hair falling into front of his face as he leaned over a thick book.

Something alerted him to her presence, and he looked up. His face twisted for a moment, then cleared. "You look a lot like your mother," he said quietly. "Except the eyes. Those are all Rodolphus."

Cassiopeia's mouth tightened. "There's no doubt who my parents are."

Snape studied her for a moment. "No, there is not. It is unlikely that anyone at Hogwarts will recognize you. Although, there is one more thing we must do."

"What?"

"Replace your wand."

Cassiopeia took a step back. "What?"

"I trust your hearing is adequate."

"Why?"

Snape looked more annoyed than usual. "Think for a moment, and try to figure it out."

Cassiopeia's mind spun. "But - this is my wand. And the wand chooses the wizard."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Yes, and that is not Cassiopeia Lestrange's wand. That wand belongs to Hermione Granger."

"Oh."

Snape smirked. "Indeed."

"Where will I get a new wand? Ollivander's? Wouldn't he recognize me?"

"No. We will return to Carn Euny. There is a wand maker there who is just as skilled as Ollivander."

"I thought everyone got their wands at Ollivander's."

"Most get their first wands at Ollivander's, and those who favor the Merlinian wand system continue to purchase wands there."

"The Merlinian wand system?"

Snape was taken aback. "You've never heard of the Merlinian wand system?"

"No. Should I have?"

Snape eyed her like she was a flobberworm. "Yes. It should have been covered in your first year Magical Theory class and expanded upon in History of Magic."

"Bloody hell, what are they even teaching these days?" Snape muttered under his breath.

Cassiopeia did her best not to snicker.

"In 559, Merlin pioneered a new method for channeling magic: the wand. Previously, wizards used staff or staves as foci, which lent themselves to large, powerful displays of magic, but little fine control. No foci was used for precise magical workings, and there was a larger emphasis on ritualized group magic.

"The invention of the wand, and it's accompanying postulate was groundbreaking. Wizards could now harness most of the raw power of a staff and couple it with the precision of non-foci magic. Merlin postulated that every magic user will be compatible with a wand made from no more than two types of wood and one of the three principle cores: dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, and phoenix feather.

"The Wand Postulate has driven commercial wand making for more than a millenia; however, there is sufficient proof that other wand cores can be used, for example, thestral tail hair, basilisk heartstrings, and gryphon feathers. These wands tend to be less versatile, and are less viable for a larger business like Ollivander's, which sells hundreds of wands per year. Furthermore, wands using non-principal cores often require more than one type of wood and more than one core material. As you may have gathered, this makes them far more expensive to produce."

"So what would be the advantage to developing wands that don't adhere to the Wand Postulate?"

"Customizability. A crude analogy is buying shoes. If you go to a Muggle shop, you can buy a pair of trainers in a number of set sizes. If you go to a cobbler, you can get a pair of shoes perfectly sized to your foot."

"How do you know all this?"

"I read," Snape said dryly.

Cassiopeia glared at him.

"It was also explained to me when I purchased my wand."

"Oh. What type of wand do you have?"

"Hawthorne and silver lime, with a thestral hair core."

"What -"

"If you wish to learn more about wandlore, there are plenty of books in the library," Snape interjected. "Although, your time would be better spent reviewing your Occlumency exercises or continuing to work through Magick Moste Fowle."

"When will we go to Carn Euny?"

"Tomorrow, if possible. We have nearly caught up the rediscovery of Cassiopeia Lestrange, and your family will be eager to make your acquaintance."

Shock washed through her. "So soon? We initially traveled back in June - how will this work with our past selves?"

"That is my responsibility, not yours. I will see you at dinner."

Recognizing a dismissal, Cassiopeia slowly made her way back to her room and collapsed on her bed, mind racing with questions.

4 April 1997

Cassiopeia hurried after Snape, nose twitching under the glamour.

"Remember," Snape said as they walked briskly towards the entrance of Carn Euny, "we are once again under the guise of John Carne and his niece, Demelza. You may be tempted to reveal your true name to the wandmaker. You must not, under any circumstance, do this."

Cassiopeia's brow furrowed. "He's not human, then?"

Snape was quiet for a moment. "I don't know."

"I'm confused."

"Magical genetics can be...complicated, as well as political."

"Political? How do you mean?"

"Under Ministry law, only humans may wield wands. However, the designation for qualifying as 'human' is loose - take Hagrid, for example, who is a half giant, Flitwick, who is a quarter goblin, or Miss Delacour, who is a quarter veela. All of them were permitted wands." Snape paused for a moment, picking his words carefully. "For those who are less than fifty percent human, Ministry guidance becomes less clear, and the incentive to adhere to it decreases significantly among those who can pass as human - mainly members of the Fair Folk. It is an interesting legal grey area that you should not discuss in public."

"So are...beings...illegally obtaining wands?"

Snape stopped to stare at her. "Are you being willfully obtuse?"

"No..."

"You shouldn't need to ask that question," Snape said, voice deadly, "And I certainly will not be answering it. Now, come along. We only have so long before my Polyjuice wears off."

Snape took off at a brisk stride, and Cassiopeia once again hurried after him. Their footsteps echoed hollowly off the stone corridor leading into the magical sector of Carn Euny, and Cassiopeia pulled her cloak tighter around her, feeling oddly nervous about meeting the wand maker. Ruan Trevorrow had been strange, but Snape at least had been at ease with him. The wandmaker seemed like another kettle of grindylow, if the set of Snape's mouth said anything about it.

"Stay close," Snape muttered as they made their way through the maze of stalls inside Carn Euny. "Also, do not explicitly thank or apologize to the wandmaker."

"You keep saying 'the wandmaker'. What's his name?"

"You'll see," Snape said evasively. "Names have power, and only fools utter them needlessly."

They headed deeper into Carn Euny, and the height of the stalls on the cavern walls increased, as well as the overall feeling of being crowded in and watched. Cassiopeia looked over her shoulder, and stepped closer to Snape.

"You feel it, then?" he asked quietly. "This is the oldest part of Carn Euny. Stay alert."

Cassiopeia's eyes darted from side to side as the hair stood up on the back of her neck. There was something profoundly unsettling about the old quarter of Carn Euny, and she had no desire to find out what it was.

"Here," Snape said, stopping abruptly.

'Here' was a shop built into the cavern wall with worn letters spelling out 'Gorron's Wands' etched above the doorway.

Snape eyed the shop for a moment, then started towards the doorway. "Follow me." Cassiopeia did as she was bid. The inside of the shop was cool, and surprisingly well lit given the lack of windows. A lone man hunched over a workbench in the back corner, and looked up at their arrival.

"The girl requires a wand."

Snape inclined his head. "Indeed."

The man put down the block of quartz he was holding, and made his way to them. "And your name is?"

"You may call me John," Snape said smoothly.

"And the girl's name?"

"You may call her Demelza," Snape said before Cassiopeia could answer.

The man tipped his head to the side, scrutinizing them. "Very well...John. You may call me Gorron." Gorron fixed Cassiopeia in his gaze, then circled around her, inhaling deeply. "Blood?"

"No," Snape said sharply.

Gorron stopped his circling. "Hair?"

"No."

"Paranoid, I see."

Snape shrugged.

Gorron looked her up and down, and Cassiopeia resisted the urge to shudder under his gaze. She now understood what Snape meant with Gorron. He looked human enough, but there was something about him that was slightly off. She couldn't tell if it was his gait, his speech, or his overall mannerisms, but there was something about him that made her skin crawl.

Gorron stopped moving, and inhaled deeply once more. "I will return," he said abruptly before heading deeper into the shop.

Cassiopeia flicked her eyes over to Snape. "Is he -"

"Not now," Snape said quietly.

Gorron returned with several jars floating behind him alongside several thin wands. He set them down on the work table and beckoned them over. "These," he said, gesturing to the five wands in front of him, "are blank wands - wands without a core. These," he gestured to the jars, "contain wand cores I feel would be compatible with your magic. You will take your hand, close your eyes, and pass your hand over the wand woods. When you feel attracted to or repelled from a wood, say so."

Cassiopeia stepped forward reluctantly, and hovered her hand a few centimeters above the blank wands. She closed her eyes, and cleared her mind. Then, she reached out with her senses. The first wand felt alien to her senses. "Not this one," she murmured. The next one felt neutral, as did the third one. The fourth seared through her soul, and Cassiopeia gasped as her hand shook. "This one…" she began, unable to articulate how the wood burned, yet felt utterly right.

"You have a strong affinity for that one," Gorron said. "Continue to the last, if you will."

Cassiopeia moved her hand over the last wand wood, and immediately felt as if a magnet was embedded in the palm of her hand. "This one, too."

She opened her eyes, and Gorron stood, head cocked to the side. "Interesting," he muttered. "Very interesting. Continue the process for the wand cores, if you will."

Cassiopeia moved towards the jars, all of which contained varying amounts of slimy somethings. She closed her eyes and moved her hand over the jars. "The second one," she said quickly.

"Not the third, at all?"

"It didn't feel bad, but it didn't feel right."

Gorron raised an eyebrow. "Interesting."

"And the choices she made were?" Snape prompted.

"Blackthorn and walnut, for wood. Manticore heartstring for the core. Very unusual choices, Miss...Demelza."

Cassiopeia opened her mouth to correct him on her name when Snape stepped in front of her. "We would prefer to receive the wand sooner rather than later."

Gorron smiled, and with a frisson of fear, Cassiopeia realized his teeth were strangely sharp. "Of course...John. I must insist you step outside the shop while I sing the wood."

Snape inclined his head. "Certainly. Come along, Demelza."

Snape's grip on her upper arm was uncomfortably tight as he steered her out of the shop. "Don't breathe a word," Snape said, cutting her off before she could even open her mouth. "I will explain more later."

Cassiopeia stared at him helplessly, fear running hot down her spine.

"You needn't be afraid," Snape said, not moving his lips. "We will only be here a few moments longer, and it will be worth it when you wield your wand."

Time stretched uncomfortably until an ululating cry echoed from the shop, and Cassiopeia jumped.

"We can return to the shop," Snape said quietly.

Cassiopeia followed him back in. Gorron stood behind the work table, and a dark brown wand lay on the table in front of him. Snape drew a pouch of coins from the depths of his robes. "Payment in exchange of goods delivered."

Gorron held the wand forward. "A wand delivered in exchange for Galleons. Blackthorn and walnut, unvarnished, mated with a manticore heartstring core."

Snape handed Cassiopeia the pouch of Galleons. "Give this to him in exchange for the wand."

Cassiopeia walked forward, and set the pouch on the table, taking the wand from Gorron as she did. Immediately, warmth raced through her fingers, chasing its way through her entire body. It felt like a fire, like whiskey, like the edges of fear. Something about the wand felt utterly perfect.

She flicked the wand. "Avis." An unkindness of ravens poured out of her wand, and she gasped.

Snape's hand rested firmly on her shoulder. "We are appreciative of the effort you put into crafting this wand, Gorron."

Gorron smiled, once again revealing his teeth. This time, however, Cassiopeia didn't feel afraid. With her wand in her hand, she felt whole. She felt powerful. And, for the first time, being Cassiopeia Lestrange felt completely and utterly right.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Real life has been ~wild~, and writing angsty sections has been a struggle. The good news is that the plot is about to pick up substantially, and the angst should be over! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Your reviews, follows, and favorites mean a lot!