The holidays were coming. The castle and grounds were covered in several feet of pristine white snow, and the cold wind blew sharp and fresh against Cassandra's face when she walked outside. Which, due to the numerous detentions and scoldings she'd received from professors over the incident during her birthday, was not often. The one exception was Professor Kettleburn, who, in his love of magical creatures, felt Cassandra's behavior had been nothing short of commendable. That the only teacher who supported her actions did not even have a third of his limbs left had not escaped the witch.

Nonetheless, she was still worried about what she'd found in the forest. She poured over books on magical creatures, potions, and the dark arts, some of which she had Mimi bring over from the house, some she'd borrowed from the library's restricted section with a pass from Kettleburn, trying to figure out what could harm a unicorn in that way, and why it would want to.

Unicorns possessed very powerful magic properties, and many parts of their bodies - such as their tail hairs and horns, were commonly used in potions and wand-making. But the harvesting of these ingredients did not require the animal to be killed. As a matter of fact, it was well-known amongst potion-makers that concoctions made with ingredients taken from a slain unicorn would often have unpredictable and adverse side-effects. Taking the life of a creature of such concentrated light magic corrupted not only the magic of its killer, but also tainted the magic left in the animal's carcass.

No matter how much she read, it all kept coming back to blood. Cassandra knew that's what the magical creature had been killed for. When she and Cedric had found it, there weren't chunks of flesh missing, and its horn had been intact. What had been missing, were pints of its blood. Her mind had gone to vampires at first, but her research indicated that unicorns would be highly sensitive to the presence of the dark creatures, and could easily outrun them. Besides, the injured unicorn's throat must have have been cut, for the wound she remembered healing was too perfect, too clean to have been done by anything other than a knife or a severing spell.

Other clues started piling in. In one of the books on the dark arts taken from her family library, she found a passage that used the terms 'blood' and 'life essence' interchangeably for unicorns. The same book suggested wizards who seeked to prolong their natural lives could attempt doing so by experimenting with the substance, 'at their own peril'. An ancient tome taken from the dustiest recesses of the restricted section listed unicorn blood as an ingredient in a potion to regrow limbs severed by dark magic. A note scribbled at the end of the page that contained said recipe informed of the risk of the regrown limb turning against its host and attempting to kill them. There was even a ritual for the creation of a humanoid body for an unnatached soul to latch itself to, written by hand on a journal that belonged to a long dead Lestrange witch, that required not only unicorn blood, but also human bones, flesh and blood.

From all her research, Cassandra eventually concluded the unicorn must've been killed for its blood by a witch or wizard practicing magic of the darkest kind. The knowledge that such a person had been roaming the Forbidden Forest at some point, so close to the castle, was disturbing enough to make her put the subject off her mind entirely for a while. She still had to sleep at night somehow.

Not being able to roam the grouds, and wanting a distraction from her worries, Cassandra threw herself into her classwork. Cedric had taken to sitting with her during Defense and Arithmancy, the two classes besides Herbology the third year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs shared, much to the bewilderment of their classmates. Many theories were shared as to what exactly had happened in the Forbidden Forest to bring the two together, some of which amused the witch more than others.

"What I don't understand," Adrian said to her as they worked on their Potions essays side by side in the Slytherin common room one afternoon. "Is how Diggory is supposed to be the one who saved you from being killed by the centaurs when it was one of them that carried you out of the forest. Doesn't seem like very beastly behavior, giving you back and all."

"Well, given that Firenze is my centaur lover, Adrian, obviously he couldn't bear to watch me being murdered by the rest of his clan," Cassandra answered without looking up from her parchment. Adrian chortled. That particular theory was one of her favourites. Like the mere thought of a Lestrange mating with a beast wouldn't be enough to have her ancestors spinning in their tombs.

That thought, however, led Cassandra's mind to a direction that caused her some measure of anxiety. She had no doubt her grandfather would respect, if not fully approve, her decision to perform a potentially deadly ritual on herself. They both agreed that there were many fates worse than death, and that subjugating oneself to an existence defined by one's fear of it was foolish and useless. His own work as a potion-maker had caused him to test out many potentially fatal potions on himself throughout the years, and the wizard considered the adverse side-effects that experimentation had had on his body an unfortunate, but acceptable price to be paid for the advancement of the science. What Cassandra worried about was her grandfather's thoughts in regards to Cedric Diggory's tentative courtship of her.

Being the future head of the Lestrange family, it was ultimately up to Cassandra to decide what she did and did not find acceptable in a partner and, eventually, in her choice of husband. Nonetheless, she was very much aware of the expectations placed upon her as not only a Lestrange, but also as a Black. If her parents' side had won the war, it was likely an arrangement would have been made for her marriage to her cousin Draco, or some other heir of a pureblood supremacist family. Maybe she would've married a Rosier, like her grandfather had married her late grandmother Druella, or even a son of her uncle Rabastan or of Sirius Black, her first cousin once removed, who had switched loyalties at the end of the war. If she had to give up the Lestrange name after marrying, she found the idea of taking the Black name comforting. They were already her family.

Or maybe, if all that was said about her parents being the Dark Lord's most faithful servants was true, Cassandra would've been saved for the Dark Lord himself. After all, had he won and taken control of the wizarding world, he would've needed an heir to eventually take his place. Cassandra contemplated the thought. Sometimes she wondered what kind of person she would be had she grown up under her parents' influence. Would she have come to worship the Dark Lord as they did? Would the idea of serving him and bearing his children have filled her with joy? Now, the thought made her nauseous.

Cassandra prided herself on being a realist. Despite all the childish fantasies she'd once had about having her family reunited, she knew their imprisonment had granted her freedoms she wouldn't have been afforded otherwise. She was free to make up her own mind on the issue of pureblood superiority or, as she preferred, to avoid taking a stand on the topic entirely, to date freely and even to never marry if she so wished. In a sense, with her family in Azkaban, she was freer than Draco, or any of her pureblood classmates. Being the last of her line, there wasn't a threat of disinheritance hanging over her head for stepping over any arbitrary lines drawn by her family. She could do as she pleased, and when she turned seventeen, the content of the Lestrange vaults would still be hers.

She was free to pursue a relationship with Cedric Diggory, a compassionate, caring wizard, son of a half-blood mother and a father who had not publicly taken a side during the war, too terrified of the Dark Lord and his followers to risk angering him in such a manner. Still, just because dating Cedric wouldn't result in her disinheritance, it didn't mean Cassandra wanted to alienate her grandfather, the only family member she trusted and loved.

Grandfather Cygnus rarely spoke to her about his own views on politics or the war, but he had raised his three daughters to be paragons of pureblood ideals, and threw one of them out of the family when she chose to marry a muggleborn. Cedric's blood would be considered pure enough by most families, but the House of Black was known for its strict standards in that regard. Nothing short of the purest of the Sacred Twenty-Eight was enough for a Black. Ultimately, if she had to choose between staying in her grandfather's good graces or being able to get involved with whoever she wanted, Cassandra's unwillingness to be controlled would trump out her loyalty to the man who had raised her, but she did not want to be forced to make such a choice.

That's what she was thinking about when Mimi came to retrieve her from the train station at the beginning of the holidays. After being apparated to the house and greeting Gibbo and Hux, the two other Lestrange house-elves, Cassandra refreshed herself and walked out of her home, wanting to clear her head before searching for her grandfather, who was probably working in his laboratory.

First, she went to the aviary, and hand-fed the various magical and mundane birds that had to be kept in the spacious but restricted building to avoid being eaten by the various predators in the area. The species that did not do well in captivity would visit the feeding stations outside the building throughout the day, by now used to the easy access to food. Cassandra said hello to Klaus, who had flown back alongside the train, and stunned a few chickens, which she put in a bucket she levitated by her side, and then made her way with him to the woods that surrounded the property.

As they made their way deeper into the woods, Klaus croaked from her shoulder, and pecked at her ear. "You're right," Cassandra said to the raven, and summoned a pair of dragonhide gloves, which she put on. "I'd forgotten. Thank you."

The bird cooed happily and flew away. Cassandra smiled. It was good to be back home.

She started whistling softly as she walked, making up a tune, and soon enough, a bird-like head peaked out from behind a tree, looking at her curiously. The witch stood still, and watched as the half-bird, half-reptile, dragon-like magical beast walked towards her. The snallygaster, small for its kind, stood at about eight feet tall, and its serrated steel fangs shone when the animal opened its mouth. Once they stood about ten feet apart, Cassandra raised her hand, and the beast stopped moving.

"Hello, Sally," Cassandra said while she took a bird from the bucket levitating behind her. "I have something for you."

With a spell, she revived the chicken and then threw it up in the air. The snallygaster moved incredibly fast, snatching its prey from the air, and started chewing it voraciously once it landed back down.

"That's right. You're such a good girl," Cassandra said. She repeated the action a couple more times, until the creature seemed satisfied, and then approached it. She stroked its feathers firmly, and in return the animal headbutted her shoulder with enough force to throw her back a couple steps. "I know," Cassandra said with a laugh, and continued to pet it, touching her nose to its snout. "I missed you too, pretty girl."

After spending some time with Sally, then visiting some of the other creatures that resided in the woods, Cassandra made her way back to the house, now with a spring in her step. When she entered the foyer, she saw her grandfather waiting for her.

"It's nice to see where I stand in your list of priorities, child," The old man said. "Even the beasts get a visit before your grandfather, huh?"

"Says the man who couldn't be bothered to get away from his cauldrons for long enough to pick his granddaughter up from the train station," she answered with a grin. Her grandfather's mouth twitched in a barely concealed smile.

"Go on then, and make yourself ready for dinner. We have much to talk about," he said. Cassandra nodded and went up the stairs to her room.

Once they were at the table and dinner had been served, her grandfather started his interrogation.

"So," he said. "How do you justify me having to find out about my granddaughter being injured from a letter from Severus Snape, of all people?"

"I apologize, grandfather. I should have written to you at once. I wasn't counting on Professor Snape's… promptness in informing you of what had happened. It took me a couple of days to recover fully and write you," Cassandra said.

"I believe Severus was terrified I would consider him personally responsible for your injuries. The Black name isn't what it once was, but I still have considerable sway in the potion-making world. It would not be too hard for me to cause him to be blacklisted, and he knows that," her grandfather said. "Of course, I know better than to expect anyone around you to be able to stop you from doing something once you've set your mind to it."

Cassandra wanted to roll her eyes. Of course Snape's concern would not be for the health of one of his students, but for the consequences to his own reputation if one of his pureblood pupils were to be harmed under his watch. He propably couldn't care less if any of them lived or died, as long as they perished outside of Hogwarts.

"It was a very unwise thing you did, Cassandra," the wizard continued. "Risking your life like that for an animal. Animals are replaceable. You are not. It pains me to think you value yourself so little."

She blinked, then blinked again a few times. When framed like that, her actions sounded beyond irrational. Her grandfather was right. She put her fork down, and looked at him. There was no winning an argument against Cygnus Black.

"I hadn't thought of it like that," she said honestly. "I didn't believe I would die, not really. We were close enough to the school and there was someone coming for me. I was prepared to be hurt, and to bleed, but those things can be healed easily enough."

"And if another creature had scented your blood and chosen to attack you? Injured prey is easy prey, you know that," he said. "There are all manner of beasts residing in that forest. One of them could easily have finished you off before anyone got to you."

"You're right. I could have died. I'm sorry. I won't be so careless in the future," Cassandra answered.

Her grandfather looked at her pointedly. "See that you do. I have no intention of outliving you, child. Besides that, how was your term?"

"Our Defense professor is a fumbling mess. He's solid enough on the theory, which is better than nothing, I suppose, but we haven't lifted our wands once in his classroom, and I don't think we will. Professor McGonagall still doesn't like me, but she doesn't let her bias affect her grading, which is all I can ask for. Professor Babbling was impressed by my rune work and suggested some books for extra reading. The rest is the same. Good. I'm doing my occlumency exercises every day," she said.

"Defense is a lost cause at Hogwarts, we know that," her grandfather said. "You can catch up on your practice during the summer, send an outline of the subjects covered in class this year to Ivanovich so he knows what to include on your lessons."

Cassandra nodded. Boris Ivanovich was a gruff old wizard who'd taught Dark Arts at Durmstrang for many decades before retiring and moving to Italy to live the rest of his days away from his two nemeses - lazy children and the cold. He'd been reluctantly brought out of retirement by her grandfather to tutor her during the summers once Cassandra had informed him of the poor state of Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Art curriculum. He was ruthless, and demanding, and the best teacher she had ever had. She looked forward to her summer lessons.

"There's something else I would like to talk to you about, grandfather," Cassandra said. The older wizard looked at her expectantly. "What do you know about the Diggory family?"

Her grandfather's brows furrowed. "Diggory… Well, there was an Eldritch Diggory who was Minister of Magic in the seventeen hundreds, I believe he was the one who created the Auror recruitment program. And I've dealt with an Amos Diggory a few times at the Ministry, over at the Magical Creatures department. Unremarkable wizard. Why?"

"Amos Diggory has a son. Cedric. He's a third year. We… Well," Cassandra paused, willing herself not to blabber. She was a Lestrange, and Lestranges did not blabber. "He expressed his wish to court me, and I said yes." She said evenly.

Her grandfather cleaned his mouth with his napkin, and sat back on his chair, looking at her. "I see," he said simply.

"His family was neutral during the war, and Cedric's blood is as pure as it gets outside Sacred Twenty-Eight. It might not be what you envisioned for me, but I am already the head of my own family. I would gain very little by marrying some overindulged heir. And I will feed myself to the giant squid before I marry Draco," Cassandra said. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could almost see a smile dancing at the edge of her grandfather's expression.

"Dramatics aside, why do you believe I would rather have you married to your cousin Draco than to this Diggory boy?" He asked.

"Because of everything the House of Black stands for," Cassandra said. "And you did raise my mother."

"I also raised Andromeda," her grandfather answered. She didn't flinch, but it was a near thing. She couldn't remember him ever using her aunt's name, or voluntarily talking about her at all.

The older wizard sighed deeply. "I am an old man, Cassandra, but I do like to think I've learned from my past mistakes. I raised three beautiful, brilliant witches to be everything I'd been taught by my family a proper pureblood witch should be. At no point did it occur to me to ask them what kind of witches they wanted to be. Things just weren't done that way that in our family. And after Druella died giving birth to Narcissa… well, there's no use going into that. Let's just say I wasn't as present in my daughters' lives as I should've been. I didn't listen to them. And because of that, all three went out looking for someone who would. Narcissa found that pompous fool Malfoy and never looked back, Andromeda found the muggleborn, and your mother-" Her grandfather sighed again. "Your mother found the Dark Lord. I lost all three of my daughters in different ways, and it was entirely my fault."

Cassandra wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but she wasn't sure he would welcome the touch. They weren't a particularly physically affectionate family.

"Then one day, the Ministry came knocking on my door and asked me if I could negotiate with my five year old granddaughter, who was holding herself hostage in her own house," he said with a chuckle. "Even then, you knew exactly what you wanted, Cassandra. I will not have you turn your back on me because I refused to listen to you. Recent incidents aside, you have always shown good judgment in your choices. If the Diggory boy is what you want, and you believe his is worthy of you, then you can have him. Of course, I'll need to meet his family and-"

But she didn't let her grandfather finish. Before he could, she did something neither of them could ever remember her doing, and threw her arms around him, hugging him as fiercely as she could. Eventually, the older wizard hugged her back.

"That's alright," he said after a while, and they both sat back on their chairs. Cassandra was smiling at her grandfather. This had gone so much better than she thought it would.

"Thank you, grandfather," she said.

"You're welcome, child," he replied.