It was nearly December, it was after midnight, and the lake was freezing. Cassius was pretty sure his friends just wanted him to die of hypothermia, because his idea of getting the password to the prefects bath had been much saner. But no, "too much of a risk of someone walking in on you" they said. Yeah right, what kind of prefect was out of bed after curfew?
Shrugging off his jumper, Cassius waded into the lake holding his egg, wary of the Durmstrang boat still docked on the other shore. He figured that maybe, if he focused on that, the cold wouldn't get to him as much. So far, no luck. The water was barely up to his waist and he was already shaking like mad. Taking a deep breath, he lowered himself to a sitting position then, placing the egg underwater, opened it. Faintly, music drifted up from the water. Preparing for the shock, Cassius closed his eyes and went under. A voice, obviously mid song, flowed gently to his ears- "an hour, the prospect's black, too late, it's gone, it won't come back." Here, the voice paused, then began at what Cassius assumed was the beginning of the song. "Come seek us where our voices sound; we cannot sing above the ground. And while you're searching ponder this: we've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to-" coming up for air, Warrington shook his head, then went back down, getting the final piece ("an hour long you'll have to look, to discover what we took. But past an hour, prospect's black, too late, it's gone, it won't come back." He pieced the three together- come seek us, we cannot sing above the ground, they took something he'd miss and he had an hour to find it or it was gone. Got it. He listened a few times more to be memorize it, then got out of the water as quickly as possible, replacing the jumper after using a quick heating charm.
Focusing on the words of the song, a song that felt familiar, somehow, Warrington almost didn't notice Mrs. Norris' stare. Eyes widening as she ran away, he quickly determined that the nearest outpost was the kitchens. Practically sprinting (and, once again, grateful for Fawley's training, not that he'd ever admit it), Warrington reached up, tickled the pear, and disappeared into the kitchens.
At waist level, many heads turned to look at him. Higher up was one, behind a tray loaded with pastries. Warrington raised an eyebrow, and the offending party made a face.
"The Wasps finally won a match, excuse me for wanting to celebrate a bit with my friends."
"No, no, I understand. I just didn't know Ravenclaws snuck out. And... isn't your friend a Tornadoes fan?" Edgecombe wrinkled her nose.
"Don't blame me for bad taste. And I didn't know Hogwarts Champions snuck out. Or is that one of your 'special allowances'?" Her hands didn't move, but the sarcasm behind the last words was enough for Cassius to feel the air quotes.
"If it were, would I be here avoiding Filch?" Worry clouded Edgecombe's face.
"Rowena, is he out? Michael promised he'd be stuck in the cupboard for at least an hour. Prick." Warrington shrugged, unconcerned.
"Some Gryff will be out late anyway, and he'll have to deal with that. It's been about five minutes anyhow, he's probably moved on." She looked unconvinced, and Cassius struggled not to roll his eyes. Obviously, in spite of her attitude, Edgecombe didn't sneak out much. She had no clue what Filch's schedule was like. "Fine. I'll prove it." Shifting the egg to one hand, he grabbed a pastry. "Cheers." With that, he headed out the door.
/
Warrington needed to figure out a date soon, or he was in trouble, if the next two days were anything to judge by. Since the announcement of the Yule Ball, no less than forty girls had asked him—some he didn't know, some he wished he didn't. The most problematic of these was at lunch, the day after the ball was announced, when Selina Moore whispered to him that her dress would look absolutely gorgeous with his eyes. Of course, Fawley had overheard, and the wrong idea had been gotten, and, fourteen proposals later, Warrington had closed himself in the Owlery, the only place he could think to go where no one would find him. He could have, at a normal time, gone to his dormitory, but (on account of the Selina Moore situation), Andrew wasn't speaking to him.
"He'll come around," Pucey assured him. It wasn't that he and his friends had never fought-in fact, the fight itself wasn't even Cassius' biggest concern. He was beginning to realize that his being champion was changing their small group, ever so slightly. Usually, Adrian provided the ideas and motivation and Andrew the charm. In other words, Pucey was the brains, Fawley was the face. Cassius was the middle ground, talking them down when strong personalities clashed, reeling Pucey in from his more far-fetched ideas and knocking Fawley off his high horse every once in a while. But now that was different. Adrian was content to work in the background still, and Andrew honestly didn't mind sharing the glory. But slowly, it had chipped away, and his almost-girlfriend almost-asking one of his best friends on a date had been the breaking point. That wasn't something you just 'came around from'.
But what could he say? "I'm sorry your girl asked me to the Ball" didn't seem to cut it, but he could hardly take the blame for it. He had never even talked to Selina, aside from a few words here and there when she was hanging around Andrew.
So he had decided to get another date in the meantime, so that nothing else blew up. As he fed his owl treats, Cassius made a mental list of female friends who weren't dating anyone and he would have fun with. He ended up with a list of four: Zoe Accrington and Amy Frome, 6th years, and their two fifth year friends, Scarlett Lympsham and Nerissa Brody. Scar and Riss he knew from pick up quidditch matches, and often went to one or the other if Andrew was too busy for a two on two match. Zoe and Amy had, of course, been in his classes for years, and they often came to Hogsmeade with the Warrington and his friends. He was pretty sure Scar was about to be asked by one of the Ravenclaws in her year, but he wasn't positive. Taking a deep breath, Cassius turned to leave the Owlery, deciding that running away from his problems wasn't going to help, and, deciding to face the roommate situation first, he headed for the common room.
/
"Have you LOST your MIND? You can't- She's not- Bloody HELL Pucey, she's a Gryffindor!" Warrington stopped short, viewing the scene in front of him. Adrian, sitting down, looked annoyed. Andrew, standing in front of him, looked ready to break through the glass into the lake. The lake... why did that feel important? Oh well, he'd worry about it later.
"Warrington, talk some sense into him. Please." Fawley had turned to Cassius, looking desparate. So this was what Pucey had meant by 'He'll come around'. He had meant 'I'll do one worse'.
"Umm... so you have a date?" The eye roll he received in return made him want to laugh, but he pushed it down in the seriousness of the moment.
"As I have just told dear Andrew, yes, I do have a date. Alicia Spinnet. Yes, she is a Gryffindor. Yes, she is your quidditch rival. No, I will not change dates." Warrington blinked. Alicia Spinnet. Huh. He hadn't seen that one coming, he would admit.
"That's... nice, I guess. How do you even know her? And... um... don't you, y'know... disagree about a lot?" Pucey shrugged. Fawley looked like he had wanted to ask the same questions, and had actually stopped pacing to hear the answer.
"We're partners for a project in runes. We agree on enough, and we don't need to talk politics at the ball. I'm not planning on marrying her, dating her, or snogging her, just going to a dance." Andrew sighed, accepting the fact that Adrian was much more stubborn than he was.
"I'm going to be the only one without a date, aren't I?" With that, he turned to leave. Warrington quickly thought about it then shrugged.
"I mean, you could always ask Zoe." Fawley paused, turning back.
"I could... actually, yeah. Yeah, I think I will. I'll need flowers, lots of them..." continuing to mutter plans, he retreated to the dormitory. Cassius turned back to Pucey.
"So, Spinnet, huh? Never would have guessed."
"It was a bit spur of the moment, but I didn't want to go alone, and it'll be fun at least. Worst that can happen, we have a huge fight and at least I come away with a memorable experience." Cassius snorted.
"Your optimism is truly inspiring." Pucey grinned.
"At least I have a date. I assumed you'd go with Zoe, but I guess not?" Cassius shrugged, knowing his friend's question was really 'who are you going to the ball with?'
"I was thinking I'd ask Nerissa tomorrow. We get along well, and no one will think I'm secretly snogging her because they know we're just friends." Adrian considered, and nodded his approval.
"You'll have fun with her. You two might annoy the hell out of everyone else, but you'll enjoy it. and andrew won't get mad." Grinning at the eyeroll he was met with, Pucey picked up the book he had, presumably, been reading when Fawley had started to shout at him. Cassius headed for the dormitory, deciding to go to the library and get to work on the charms essay, considering it was due tomorrow. As he reached the stairs, he heard a throat clear behind him. He turned. It was a second year. Oh, Salazar, please not here.
"Our play begins in a dungeon, green light cast over everything-"
(Whispered) "Those are the stage cues you idiot! Don't read those!"
"Right, I knew that." The kid cleared his throat and sat on the ground. "My name is Cassius. I play quidditch and tutor people, and I want to be the best champion Hogwarts has ever had. But I'm never going to get a chance."
Cassius worked very hard to not close his eyes in pain as the story of his years of aspiring to be a champion and never receiving the chance were acted out in front of him. Salazar have mercy, why had he turned around. Why? He tried to tune the second years out, feigning interest while studying the lake window.
"I will do it! I will be the champion of Hogwarts and steal the dragon's egg!" The dragon's egg? The lake, and the dragon's egg, and the song. Above the ground, we cannot sing above the ground.
"Merpeople!" The second years paused, confused and a bit offended. Cassius looked at them guiltily. "I'm sorry, it's just... You're brilliant, that was brilliant, thank you so much. I just need to go work on the clue." The second years looked doubtful, but no longer offended, which Warrington figured was as good as it would get. Not bothering to grab his parchment (he could write at breakfast), Warrington hurried for the library. Because if he was right, he would need some magic if he was going to come out of the next task without looking like an idiot.
So, Cassius has figured out the clue, gotten into (and out of) a sticky situation, and is not worrying too much about his potential Yule Ball date, focusing instead onthat essay. Thanks for reading, and as always, please review with any suggestions, errors, or things that just don't flow.