Chapter 9
Ron was rather grumpy for the next couple of days. He still teased Hermione about her studying and played chess with Harry, but he turned cold when Cassandra showed up and when talked to kept his replies short. He apparently blamed this entire mess on her, saying it was her fault Harry showed a sudden interest in being meticulously fair. She in turn thought Ron was being an overgrown baby and that anyone else would've loved to be on the team, even as a reserve. "What do you know," Ron said when she told him that.
"A lot more than you!" she retorted.
"Shut up, both of you! I'm trying to do my homework!" Hermione snapped.
"What else is new?" Ron sighed. He looked at Hermione's paper. "Hey, that's Defense against Dark Arts."
"So?" replied Hermione, writing furiously.
"Professor Figg assigned that three days ago."
"Ron, is there a point and are you getting to it soon?" Hermione asked.
"My point is that normally you would have had this done three days ago. You're procrastinating!" Ron accused, pretending to be horrified.
"I am not. I 've just been busy this week." She replied.
"With what? It isn't homework," Ron said.
"There's a lot involved with being a prefect! Now, will you go away so that I can finish this assignment!" requested Hermione, thoroughly exasperated. Ron scowled and glanced at Cassandra.
"Are you going to try to pin this one on me too?" she asked.
"Women," Ron muttered, exiting the common room.
Defense Against Dark Arts with Mrs. Figg turned out to be a very tough class. She was like a cross between Mad-Eye Moody, or Mr. Crouch's son in Mad-Eye Moody form, and Professor Lupin. The result was a class that was fun yet exhausting with many practical lessons. Books were used for three things in Mrs. Figg's classroom: extra homework, booster seats, and weapons. They found that last one out the hard way, or at least Parvati did. She had been whispering something to Lavender when she barely escaped being knocked unconscious by a very thick book. Parvati looked up in shock. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you, Miss Patil, but you might want to pay attention to this," Mrs. Figg said. There were no more interruptions in Mrs. Figg's class after that. Everyone was fueled with the desire to do well for three reasons: O.W.L.S. were at the end of this year; they didn't want to get a 2,576 and three-quarters-page book thrown at them; and Lord Voldemort's sudden reappearance had them all worried. So far they had done a very quick review of the Forbidden Curses and a study of Veela.
There was a bit of confusion when the students entered the room. The seats had been rearranged to form a semicircle. "Sit down quickly, please," Mrs. Figg said. The students sat down without a word. Cassandra sat next to Parvati, who sat next to Lavender, who sat next to Seamus, who sat next to Dean. Dean sat next to Neville, who sat next to Hermione, who sat next to Harry, Harry sat next to Ron, who was pleased to find himself as far away from Cassandra as possible.
"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to teach you about Dementors," Mrs. Figg stated. The class began to buzz. Mrs. Figg held her hand up for silence. The class quieted down. "It is my understanding that you have had some experience with Dementors. I would like you to share that knowledge with the class." Neville raised his hand. "Go ahead, Mr. Longbottom."
"They guard the prisoners of Azkaban," Neville said. Harry noted with surprise a slight confidence to Neville's voice that was hardly ever present.
"That's correct. Thank you, Mr. Longbottom. Yes, Mr. Weasley?"
"They feed off of the emotions of the inmates. Most of them go mad."
"Correct. Ah, Miss Granger, enlighten us," Mrs. Figg said kindly.
"The worst punishment is the Demontor's kiss. That's when they suck the soul of a prisoner," Hermione replied. Harry felt the class grow uneasy.
"Anyone else?" Harry raised his hand slowly. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"Dementors are warded off with a Patronus," he answered.
"Go on, Mr. Potter."
"A Patronus is a projection of the emotions they feed off of. It lures them away."
"Anything else?"
"To create a Patronus, think of a happy memory and say 'Expecto patronum.'"
"Outstanding, Mr. Potter. Five points to Gryffindor," Mrs. Figg said. Harry smiled faintly. He didn't like to think about Dementors.
Mrs. Figg turned to the class. "You will be learning how to conjure a Patronus this day and the next until every last one of you can conjure one. It is a rather difficult spell and will take some time to master. Yes, Miss Brown?"
"Professor, why is Professor Dumbledore so interested in having us learn how to conjure a Patronus? Surely we won't ever run into a Dementor. They don't normally go wandering about the streets," Lavender said. The class nodded in agreement. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were silent. They knew why. Cassandra looked tense and preoccupied. Harry briefly wondered what was wrong with her.
"Miss Brown, do you know what has been happening over the past four years?" she asked sharply. Lavender was startled and shook her head. "Does anyone know what has been going one for the past four years, right under our very noses?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione raised their hands tentatively. Much to their surprise so did Cassandra.
"Mr. Potter, please share with the class what has been going on. Tell them everything."
"Everything, Mrs. Figg?"
"Everything you can. They have to know. They'll find out sooner or later," she said tiredly.
Harry began. With help from Hermione and Ron, he told them everything about the Sorcerer's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets (leaving out Ginny and Lucius Malfoy), and everything that happened last year, including Dumbledore's worries about the giants and the Dementors. Cassandra even had something to say. "He's rapidly gaining followers. By Christmas, he'll have double his old number. Voldemort (The class trembled as she let the word fall from her lips.) is greedy. He won't be content with his old powers. He wants to be stronger. He's set his sights on bigger things," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Her words were clearly audible because the rest of the class ceased talking long ago.
After a moment of silence, the class erupted. "Impossible," Parvati stated.
"If something like this was going on, we'd know. The Ministry would know," Lavender replied.
"The Ministry does know. Dumbledore told Fudge! Harry told Fudge!" Hermione cried.
"Then why worry? The Ministry will handle everything," Seamus reasoned.
"Seamus, even Malfoy wouldn't be big enough git to make a statement like that," Ron yelled. "Fudge isn't doing anything! He doesn't believe us!"
"There must be a reason he's not worried," Dean said.
"Yeah, he's a MORON!" yelled Ron.
"If he's such a moron, why is he still head of the Ministry?" Lavender retorted.
"Because he's the only one stupid enough to take the job!" shouted Ron.
"I don't believe it." Dean said.
"There would have been something, in the papers, or- or-" Seamus said.
"Why? To create a widespread panic? There would be complete chaos!" Hermione replied.
"Don't you think he would have made a move by now?" Lavender asked.
"YOU PEOPLE JUST DON'T GET IT!" yelled Harry, who up until then had remained silent. "This is not a joke! If Cassandra's right, it will be a thousand times worse than it was before."
"Oh, please, Harry. You can't be serious," Parvati scoffed.
"Shut up, Parvati," said Neville. Everyone shut up at that. "You don't believe it because you have no idea how bad it once was. You've never lost anyone because of Voldemort." Neville said the name without flinching. "You're parents are not dead because of him. You're parents aren't in separate padded cells at St. Mungo's, out of their minds because his followers nearly killed them with the Cruciatius curse."
"You people are insane," Parvati hissed. "He is not returning. He just can't be."
"Harry and Neville are right," Cassandra said. "And wrong. They don't know how bad it was, but they have reminders of how terrible it was. We can do something about this now, or we can let ourselves get trampled on. This is not going away because you say it 's not happening. It is happening. Voldemort is gathering followers and is hatching another scheme." She gave a twisted smile as the class shuddered at the mention of Voldemort's name. "What's in a name indeed? How about all the darkness and death and confusion of a time that we once thought had passed and may come again. Voldemort. Voldemort! VOLDEMORT! " she yelled.
"You're blinking mad!" Seamus gasped.
"I wish I was," she replied, rushing out of the class. Harry started to go after her.
"Let her go," Ron whispered, restraining him. Harry sank back into his seat.
After class the first thing Harry did was look for Cassandra. He should have been on his way to History of Magic, but he figured, screw it. Professor Binns wouldn't miss him. Professor Binns didn't even know his name. He would probably drone on and on about another Goblin rebellion. Harry truly hated learning about them. There are so many. Goblins must rebel once a week. "My porridge is cold!"
"What shall we do!"
"We'll have the Great Porridge Uprising and get Ug the Utter Moron to lead it!" Or…
"The sun is shining!"
"You don't say."
"But I do say."
"This is cause for a rebellion! I'll owl Al the Almost Intimidating" These were Harry's thoughts as he wandered through the halls looking for Cassandra. He was still laughing to himself over his little joke when he ran into Professor Dumbledore.
"Oh! I didn't see you! I'm sorry," said Harry, dimly aware that he should be in class right now.
"That's quite all right," Dumbledore said cheerily. "But why aren't you in class?"
"There was a- a discussion in Defense Against Dark Arts. Cassandra ran out. I came looking for her to see if she was alright." Dumbledore smiled.
"She's in my office right now."
"She's okay, then?"
"She's fine. A bit shaken, but she'll get over it. You can see her if you'd like," he offered.
"Are you sure?"
"Go right in," Dumbledore said, gesturing with his hand. Harry hadn't realized he was right outside Dumbledore's office.
He mounted the stairs slowly and opened the door. Cassandra was seated in an armchair by the fire, petting Fawkes the Phoenix. Her eyes were closed. "Hello, Harry," she said.
"How did you know it was me? You can't see me and I 'm too far away for you to smell me," Harry asked. She flashed a quick smile.
"I heard you talking downstairs," she responded.
"Oh," Harry said by way of reply.
"It was very thoughtful of you to come looking for me."
"You seemed upset by the debate our class was having."
"There was no debate. There are two sides to a debate, neither of which is the wrong side. They are on the wrong side," she said fiercely but quietly.
"They don't want to believe it."
"How can not believe it? Dumbledore even told them that Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory!"
"How'd you know about Cedric?" he inquired softly.
"My aunt told me," she replied, not meeting his eye.
"I'll bet Malfoy knows something about this."
"Don't be ridiculous. Why would Draco know anything about Lord Voldemort?"
"I don't know, maybe because his family are supporters of Lord Voldemort!"
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Cassandra, I'll bet you anything Malfoy was trained to be a Death Eater from the moment he was born."
"So?"
"So? So? He's evil, Cassandra!"
"I do believe you're overreacting," she said with a low laugh. Harry opened his mouth to say something. Cassandra raised her hand. "Please, not now, Harry. I just don't want to argue with you right now."
"What was that about?" Harry asked at lunch the next day. He glared after Malfoy as he left the Gryffindor table to sit at his own.
"He's helping me," Cassandra replied.
"With what?" questioned Ron. "How to be a Prat 101?" Cassandra cast him a look of annoyance especially reserved for Ron when he insulted Malfoy. Hermione glared at Ron.
"Seriously," she said turning to Cassandra, "with what?"
"Potions," Cassandra answered. Ron snorted.
"Did Malfoy mention that the only reason he gets high marks in Potions is that Snape likes him for some odd reason?" he inquired. Cassandra gave a forced grin.
"He really knows his stuff. He hasn't buggered a potion yet," she remarked.
"What does he get?" Harry asked.
"What?" she asked.
"Please, you can't think he's doing this out of the kindness of his heart because, quite frankly, I don't think there is any," Ron commented.
"He helps you with Potions and what does he get in return?" Hermione clarified.
"Oh. He gets 'the pleasure of my company,' as he calls it," Cassandra answered. Ron laughed outright this time. "What is it now?" Cassandra asked, eyes flashing angrily.
"You actually fell for that?" Ron laughed.
"What do you mean?"
"You think he helps you because he enjoys talking to you so much?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"I suppose it could be true. I'm sure that it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that-"
"Cassandra," Harry interrupted. Ron and Cassandra both turned to look at him. "Is that the only reason you talk to Malfoy?"
Cassandra jumped up, looked at her bare wrist and exclaimed," Oh my, would you look at the time! I'm supposed to meet Neville in the library in five minutes!" Harry cast a pleading look at Hermione.
"I'll go with you," she offered.
"Corking! See you guys later!" Cassandra called, rushing out of the Great Hall.
"She deliberately avoided my question," Harry said.
"You think so?" Ron asked sarcastically. "I swear, Harry, you're becoming rather thick. At this rate, we'll have to start calling you Goyle."
"Put a sock in it," Harry told him.
Ron was rather grumpy for the next couple of days. He still teased Hermione about her studying and played chess with Harry, but he turned cold when Cassandra showed up and when talked to kept his replies short. He apparently blamed this entire mess on her, saying it was her fault Harry showed a sudden interest in being meticulously fair. She in turn thought Ron was being an overgrown baby and that anyone else would've loved to be on the team, even as a reserve. "What do you know," Ron said when she told him that.
"A lot more than you!" she retorted.
"Shut up, both of you! I'm trying to do my homework!" Hermione snapped.
"What else is new?" Ron sighed. He looked at Hermione's paper. "Hey, that's Defense against Dark Arts."
"So?" replied Hermione, writing furiously.
"Professor Figg assigned that three days ago."
"Ron, is there a point and are you getting to it soon?" Hermione asked.
"My point is that normally you would have had this done three days ago. You're procrastinating!" Ron accused, pretending to be horrified.
"I am not. I 've just been busy this week." She replied.
"With what? It isn't homework," Ron said.
"There's a lot involved with being a prefect! Now, will you go away so that I can finish this assignment!" requested Hermione, thoroughly exasperated. Ron scowled and glanced at Cassandra.
"Are you going to try to pin this one on me too?" she asked.
"Women," Ron muttered, exiting the common room.
Defense Against Dark Arts with Mrs. Figg turned out to be a very tough class. She was like a cross between Mad-Eye Moody, or Mr. Crouch's son in Mad-Eye Moody form, and Professor Lupin. The result was a class that was fun yet exhausting with many practical lessons. Books were used for three things in Mrs. Figg's classroom: extra homework, booster seats, and weapons. They found that last one out the hard way, or at least Parvati did. She had been whispering something to Lavender when she barely escaped being knocked unconscious by a very thick book. Parvati looked up in shock. "I'm sorry if I interrupted you, Miss Patil, but you might want to pay attention to this," Mrs. Figg said. There were no more interruptions in Mrs. Figg's class after that. Everyone was fueled with the desire to do well for three reasons: O.W.L.S. were at the end of this year; they didn't want to get a 2,576 and three-quarters-page book thrown at them; and Lord Voldemort's sudden reappearance had them all worried. So far they had done a very quick review of the Forbidden Curses and a study of Veela.
There was a bit of confusion when the students entered the room. The seats had been rearranged to form a semicircle. "Sit down quickly, please," Mrs. Figg said. The students sat down without a word. Cassandra sat next to Parvati, who sat next to Lavender, who sat next to Seamus, who sat next to Dean. Dean sat next to Neville, who sat next to Hermione, who sat next to Harry, Harry sat next to Ron, who was pleased to find himself as far away from Cassandra as possible.
"Professor Dumbledore has asked me to teach you about Dementors," Mrs. Figg stated. The class began to buzz. Mrs. Figg held her hand up for silence. The class quieted down. "It is my understanding that you have had some experience with Dementors. I would like you to share that knowledge with the class." Neville raised his hand. "Go ahead, Mr. Longbottom."
"They guard the prisoners of Azkaban," Neville said. Harry noted with surprise a slight confidence to Neville's voice that was hardly ever present.
"That's correct. Thank you, Mr. Longbottom. Yes, Mr. Weasley?"
"They feed off of the emotions of the inmates. Most of them go mad."
"Correct. Ah, Miss Granger, enlighten us," Mrs. Figg said kindly.
"The worst punishment is the Demontor's kiss. That's when they suck the soul of a prisoner," Hermione replied. Harry felt the class grow uneasy.
"Anyone else?" Harry raised his hand slowly. "Yes, Mr. Potter?"
"Dementors are warded off with a Patronus," he answered.
"Go on, Mr. Potter."
"A Patronus is a projection of the emotions they feed off of. It lures them away."
"Anything else?"
"To create a Patronus, think of a happy memory and say 'Expecto patronum.'"
"Outstanding, Mr. Potter. Five points to Gryffindor," Mrs. Figg said. Harry smiled faintly. He didn't like to think about Dementors.
Mrs. Figg turned to the class. "You will be learning how to conjure a Patronus this day and the next until every last one of you can conjure one. It is a rather difficult spell and will take some time to master. Yes, Miss Brown?"
"Professor, why is Professor Dumbledore so interested in having us learn how to conjure a Patronus? Surely we won't ever run into a Dementor. They don't normally go wandering about the streets," Lavender said. The class nodded in agreement. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were silent. They knew why. Cassandra looked tense and preoccupied. Harry briefly wondered what was wrong with her.
"Miss Brown, do you know what has been happening over the past four years?" she asked sharply. Lavender was startled and shook her head. "Does anyone know what has been going one for the past four years, right under our very noses?" Harry, Ron, and Hermione raised their hands tentatively. Much to their surprise so did Cassandra.
"Mr. Potter, please share with the class what has been going on. Tell them everything."
"Everything, Mrs. Figg?"
"Everything you can. They have to know. They'll find out sooner or later," she said tiredly.
Harry began. With help from Hermione and Ron, he told them everything about the Sorcerer's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets (leaving out Ginny and Lucius Malfoy), and everything that happened last year, including Dumbledore's worries about the giants and the Dementors. Cassandra even had something to say. "He's rapidly gaining followers. By Christmas, he'll have double his old number. Voldemort (The class trembled as she let the word fall from her lips.) is greedy. He won't be content with his old powers. He wants to be stronger. He's set his sights on bigger things," she said in a voice barely above a whisper. Her words were clearly audible because the rest of the class ceased talking long ago.
After a moment of silence, the class erupted. "Impossible," Parvati stated.
"If something like this was going on, we'd know. The Ministry would know," Lavender replied.
"The Ministry does know. Dumbledore told Fudge! Harry told Fudge!" Hermione cried.
"Then why worry? The Ministry will handle everything," Seamus reasoned.
"Seamus, even Malfoy wouldn't be big enough git to make a statement like that," Ron yelled. "Fudge isn't doing anything! He doesn't believe us!"
"There must be a reason he's not worried," Dean said.
"Yeah, he's a MORON!" yelled Ron.
"If he's such a moron, why is he still head of the Ministry?" Lavender retorted.
"Because he's the only one stupid enough to take the job!" shouted Ron.
"I don't believe it." Dean said.
"There would have been something, in the papers, or- or-" Seamus said.
"Why? To create a widespread panic? There would be complete chaos!" Hermione replied.
"Don't you think he would have made a move by now?" Lavender asked.
"YOU PEOPLE JUST DON'T GET IT!" yelled Harry, who up until then had remained silent. "This is not a joke! If Cassandra's right, it will be a thousand times worse than it was before."
"Oh, please, Harry. You can't be serious," Parvati scoffed.
"Shut up, Parvati," said Neville. Everyone shut up at that. "You don't believe it because you have no idea how bad it once was. You've never lost anyone because of Voldemort." Neville said the name without flinching. "You're parents are not dead because of him. You're parents aren't in separate padded cells at St. Mungo's, out of their minds because his followers nearly killed them with the Cruciatius curse."
"You people are insane," Parvati hissed. "He is not returning. He just can't be."
"Harry and Neville are right," Cassandra said. "And wrong. They don't know how bad it was, but they have reminders of how terrible it was. We can do something about this now, or we can let ourselves get trampled on. This is not going away because you say it 's not happening. It is happening. Voldemort is gathering followers and is hatching another scheme." She gave a twisted smile as the class shuddered at the mention of Voldemort's name. "What's in a name indeed? How about all the darkness and death and confusion of a time that we once thought had passed and may come again. Voldemort. Voldemort! VOLDEMORT! " she yelled.
"You're blinking mad!" Seamus gasped.
"I wish I was," she replied, rushing out of the class. Harry started to go after her.
"Let her go," Ron whispered, restraining him. Harry sank back into his seat.
After class the first thing Harry did was look for Cassandra. He should have been on his way to History of Magic, but he figured, screw it. Professor Binns wouldn't miss him. Professor Binns didn't even know his name. He would probably drone on and on about another Goblin rebellion. Harry truly hated learning about them. There are so many. Goblins must rebel once a week. "My porridge is cold!"
"What shall we do!"
"We'll have the Great Porridge Uprising and get Ug the Utter Moron to lead it!" Or…
"The sun is shining!"
"You don't say."
"But I do say."
"This is cause for a rebellion! I'll owl Al the Almost Intimidating" These were Harry's thoughts as he wandered through the halls looking for Cassandra. He was still laughing to himself over his little joke when he ran into Professor Dumbledore.
"Oh! I didn't see you! I'm sorry," said Harry, dimly aware that he should be in class right now.
"That's quite all right," Dumbledore said cheerily. "But why aren't you in class?"
"There was a- a discussion in Defense Against Dark Arts. Cassandra ran out. I came looking for her to see if she was alright." Dumbledore smiled.
"She's in my office right now."
"She's okay, then?"
"She's fine. A bit shaken, but she'll get over it. You can see her if you'd like," he offered.
"Are you sure?"
"Go right in," Dumbledore said, gesturing with his hand. Harry hadn't realized he was right outside Dumbledore's office.
He mounted the stairs slowly and opened the door. Cassandra was seated in an armchair by the fire, petting Fawkes the Phoenix. Her eyes were closed. "Hello, Harry," she said.
"How did you know it was me? You can't see me and I 'm too far away for you to smell me," Harry asked. She flashed a quick smile.
"I heard you talking downstairs," she responded.
"Oh," Harry said by way of reply.
"It was very thoughtful of you to come looking for me."
"You seemed upset by the debate our class was having."
"There was no debate. There are two sides to a debate, neither of which is the wrong side. They are on the wrong side," she said fiercely but quietly.
"They don't want to believe it."
"How can not believe it? Dumbledore even told them that Voldemort killed Cedric Diggory!"
"How'd you know about Cedric?" he inquired softly.
"My aunt told me," she replied, not meeting his eye.
"I'll bet Malfoy knows something about this."
"Don't be ridiculous. Why would Draco know anything about Lord Voldemort?"
"I don't know, maybe because his family are supporters of Lord Voldemort!"
"That doesn't prove anything."
"Cassandra, I'll bet you anything Malfoy was trained to be a Death Eater from the moment he was born."
"So?"
"So? So? He's evil, Cassandra!"
"I do believe you're overreacting," she said with a low laugh. Harry opened his mouth to say something. Cassandra raised her hand. "Please, not now, Harry. I just don't want to argue with you right now."
"What was that about?" Harry asked at lunch the next day. He glared after Malfoy as he left the Gryffindor table to sit at his own.
"He's helping me," Cassandra replied.
"With what?" questioned Ron. "How to be a Prat 101?" Cassandra cast him a look of annoyance especially reserved for Ron when he insulted Malfoy. Hermione glared at Ron.
"Seriously," she said turning to Cassandra, "with what?"
"Potions," Cassandra answered. Ron snorted.
"Did Malfoy mention that the only reason he gets high marks in Potions is that Snape likes him for some odd reason?" he inquired. Cassandra gave a forced grin.
"He really knows his stuff. He hasn't buggered a potion yet," she remarked.
"What does he get?" Harry asked.
"What?" she asked.
"Please, you can't think he's doing this out of the kindness of his heart because, quite frankly, I don't think there is any," Ron commented.
"He helps you with Potions and what does he get in return?" Hermione clarified.
"Oh. He gets 'the pleasure of my company,' as he calls it," Cassandra answered. Ron laughed outright this time. "What is it now?" Cassandra asked, eyes flashing angrily.
"You actually fell for that?" Ron laughed.
"What do you mean?"
"You think he helps you because he enjoys talking to you so much?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
"I suppose it could be true. I'm sure that it has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that-"
"Cassandra," Harry interrupted. Ron and Cassandra both turned to look at him. "Is that the only reason you talk to Malfoy?"
Cassandra jumped up, looked at her bare wrist and exclaimed," Oh my, would you look at the time! I'm supposed to meet Neville in the library in five minutes!" Harry cast a pleading look at Hermione.
"I'll go with you," she offered.
"Corking! See you guys later!" Cassandra called, rushing out of the Great Hall.
"She deliberately avoided my question," Harry said.
"You think so?" Ron asked sarcastically. "I swear, Harry, you're becoming rather thick. At this rate, we'll have to start calling you Goyle."
"Put a sock in it," Harry told him.