It was the weekend after the end of exams, and the whole castle was abuzz with speculation about what exactly had happened between Harry Potter and their now dead Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Cassandra had received the news about the incident with the same detachment that colored most of her thoughts lately. She now realized that Professor Quirrell must've been the person killing unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. How likely was it that two evil wizards would be roaming the grounds of Hogwarts at the same time, after all? Besides, the teacher had seemed increasingly worn down and sickly as the school year progressed, which accounted for the need of unicorn blood to forestall his death. It all fit neatly.
That he had met his end without need of her interference, at the hands of the boy-who-lived, was a neat resolution to the issue that Cassandra was grateful for. Before, the prospect of dueling a wizard twisted enough to leech off unicorns to keep himself alive wouldn't have cowed her, but now the words of the prophecy hung ominously over her head. She had never believed hurting someone in self-defense or in the defense of others made one evil, but being marked as a future mass murderer had been making her hesitant to use offensive magic. She had realized that when Adrian had asked her why she'd chosen to subdue Cassius Warrington physically rather than magically - it was much harder to kill someone without using a wand.
The only good thing to come out of the entire prophecy ordeal so far was that Cassandra and Cedric's relationship had been, much to her surprise, strengthened rather than destroyed once he was made aware of the prediction. The more she'd insisted that he should distance himself from her, the more unwavering he'd become in his decision not to. The tidings of fate were no match for the Hufflepuff's loyalty. Instead, Cedric had taken it upon himself to help his girlfriend in her journey not to become the version of herself she saw in her nightmares.
That was one of the reasons why he was half-walking, half-dragging her to Professor Sprout's office on a Saturday afternoon.
"I can't believe you talked me into doing this," Cassandra grumbled.
"It was your idea in the first place," Cedric said, unfazed by her complaining.
"Which I would've never gone through with if you hadn't talked to Sprout behind my back," Cassandra huffed. She was so nervous her palms were sweating, and she was still contemplating an escape plan even as they approached the greenhouses.
Cedric held her by the elbow gently, bringing her to a halt. "We both know you want to do this, otherwise you wouldn't have asked for my opinion on it. So I meddled, because I do believe this is going to be good for you. But if you're not ready for it yet, we can call it off. I'll talk to Professor Sprout, and I'm sure she'll understand."
He took her cold, clammy hand in his, stretching her fingers and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Cassandra hadn't realized how tightly she'd been clenching her fists, and while he caressed the indentation marks her fingernails had left on her palm, she slowed down her breaths and focused on easing up the tension with which she was holding herself up, thinking about his words.
"No," she finally replied. "You're right. I want to do this, I do. I'm just…"
"It's going to be ok," Cedric offered. She nodded, and pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around his middle. He kissed her forehead, hugging her tightly. "I promise you, it's going to be ok. What's the worst that can happen? An eleven year old tells you off? You've handled worse."
"I've handled worse," Cassandra repeated to herself. Cedric smiled at her encouragingly, and she couldn't not kiss him.
"You know," she said after his mouth left hers, "Adrian would've just told me to stop being such a pussy, and I would've shut up and done it just to spite him."
"Well, Adrian is not your boyfriend," Cedric replied.
"Thank Merlin for that," Cassandra said. "Come on, Professor Sprout must be waiting for us."
The good-natured Herbology teacher was, in fact, waiting for them outside the greenhouse that served as her office when they arrived. She greeted her two students warmly, then turned to Cassandra, a grave expression on her face.
"Cassandra, are you sure about this?" Professor Sprout asked, seeming concerned. "You have always behaved in an exemplary manner in my presence, which is why I agreed to arrange this when Cedric approached me, but I must tell you that the idea was met with quite a bit of resistance by Mr. Longbottom's Head of House. It was only Professor Dumbledore's interference that convinced Minerva to allow this. Neville is a kind boy, and very talented in my subject, but also very sensitive. He doesn't have your mettle yet. I need you to assure me you'll take every precaution not to needlessly upset him."
"I understand, professor," Cassandra replied. "The last thing I want to do is cause him any distress. I promise you I'll be as considerate as I know how. And you may feel free to listen in our conversation, if that'll reassure you."
The plump teacher smiled at her. "I believe you. I know you're a good girl. Just be careful, alright?"
She nodded, took a deep steadying breath, and walked into the office. Neville Longbottom, round-faced and nervous-looking, was sitting on a chair, looking at her as if she was going to snap and lunge for him at the first opportunity. She said hello and asked if she could take a seat. The boy nodded shakily, not saying anything.
"Do you know who I am?" Cassandra asked, not knowing where else to start. He nodded again, still silent. Her hands started sweating again. "I imagine it must've been hard for you to agree to this, considering- well, thank you for agreeing to meet me, is what I'm trying to say."
"Y-you're welcome," Neville stuttered. He was still looking at her with trepidation, but she was relieved that he didn't intend to listen to her without saying anything the entire time.
"I've wanted to do this from the beginning of the school year, but I didn't have the courage, I guess, to go through with it until now," she said.
"To do what?" Neville asked skittishly.
"To say that I'm sorry. About what my family did to your parents," Cassandra said, and watched the blood drain from the young wizard's face. Her heart sank, and she continued talking, trying to convey the sincerity in her words. "You don't have to accept my apology. That's not why I'm here, to use you to clear my own conscience. You can hate me as much and for as long as you want, if it makes you feel even a little bit better. I certainly would, in your place. I just- It's not fair. To you. That you should have to go to school with me, and see me in the halls, and not know if I take some perverse pride in the whole thing. I don't. It's horrible and unforgivable, what my family did, and I'll never stop being ashamed of it. I just wanted you to know that. That even if they were never sorry for it, I am."
Cassandra discreetly wiped a tear that was escaping from the corner of her eye, and watched Neville do the same, rubbing his teary eyes with his sleeve. He was staring at the floor, his lower lip trembling.
"Thank you," he said after a while.
She swallowed down the lump in her throat. She wasn't going to cry. This was about him, not her. "If you ever need anything, if there's ever anything I can do for you, please feel free to reach out to me. Is there- do you have anything you want to ask me?"
Neville looked up at her. "Do you mind if I tell my gran about this?"
Cassandra thought about the Longbottom matriarch, who'd had her son and daughter-in-law turned into little more than shells of their former selves, and her grandson virtually orphaned because of her family. "No. I don't mind it at all."
Neville nodded again and got up from his chair. She remained seated, waiting for him to leave the room before she could let herself feel the wave of emotions she could feel building in her chest. She was so focused on that, she almost missed the quiet, tremulous words the boy said to her before shutting the door behind him.
"I- I don't hate you."
At the end-of-year feast, Cassandra was in such a good mood she invited her cousin to sit by her side, alongside the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Draco hung onto every word their proud captain spoke about the game play that had won them the Quidditch Cup for the fifth year in a row, in turn helping Slytherin win the House Cup for the seventh year in a row. The entire Great Hall was decorated in silver and green, and even Professor Snape lacked his usual sour expression, which only returned once Harry Potter walked in and sat down at the Gryffindor table.
When Dumbledore announced their win, the entire Slytherin table broke out in cheers. Cassandra lifted her goblet in the air, and smiled when she saw Adrian trying not to blush when he was hugged by an enthusiastic Flint. "Seven in a row, baby! Wheeeew!" She heard someone exclaiming, and was about to cheer again when she heard what the headmaster was saying.
"...recent events must be taken into account," Dumbledore finished. Her smile faded, as did the rest of her teammates'. When the headmaster finished awarding Gryffindor points for the events that had resulted in Professor Quirrell's death, the other Houses' students erupted in deafening celebration, while Slytherins loudly protested.
"Come on!" Adrian said angrily besides her. "If I'd known killing a teacher would get us that many house points, we could've offed Trelawney weeks ago!"
That year, Cassandra's train ride back to King Cross was a lot different from her past ones. Instead of closing herself in a cabin with Adrian and other Slytherins, she shared a cabin with her friend, Cedric Diggory and the Weasley twins. Cassandra was leaning against Cedric, who had his arm around her shoulders. He smiled at her when she laced her fingers with his, and pulled her even closer. Adrian was sitting in front of her, talking to the twins, who were loudly celebrating their win of the annual bet made by students on the fate met by their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
"I can't believe the two of you bet Harry Potter would kill our DADA teacher, and actually won!" Adrian exclaimed.
The Weasleys smiled sardonically, while Cassandra and Cedric chuckled at Adrian's aggravated expression.
"He's the boy-who-lived," George shrugged.
"We met him boarding the train, and it seemed like something the bloke should be able to do, right George? What's a Defense teacher against you-know-who?" Fred said.
"Right you are, Fred," the other twin replied.
"How much did you win?" Cedric asked, curious. He had confessed to never have partaken on the wager, to the other students' surprise.
"A hundred galleons!" The duo replied enthusiastically, and Cedric whistled.
"Sounds like you two are going to have a pretty good summer," Cassandra said. "By the way, what did you end up doing with the vials of polyjuice I gave you for Yule?"
"Oh, we haven't used it yet." George said. "But we did manage to find a couple of Snape's hairs on the floor of the Potions classroom."
"One of us will probably slip in our little brother Ron's bed one night and give him a beautiful sight to wake up to," Fred said, and the entire cabin laughed. "What about you, Cassie? Any plans for the summer?"
"My grandfather and I usually travel abroad for a week or two right after I get back, but I have tutoring lessons from the middle of July until the beginning of next term. I'm hoping Cedric will join me for some of those," she said, squeezing her boyfriend's hand.
"She's really got you on a leash, huh mate?" George said.
"And I couldn't be happier about it," Cedric replied, and turned his head to kiss her cheek.
"You two are revolting," Adrian said, and yelped when Cassandra kicked him in the shin.
When they got to the platform, Cassandra said goodbye to her friends, promising to write them during the summer break, and waited with Cedric for his parents.
"They are really excited to meet you," Cedric said to her. "Just don't mind my dad, ok? He's a good guy, but he's always putting his foot in his mouth. If he starts talking about marriage-"
Cassandra laughed. "Believe me, it won't take long for that subject to come up with my grandfather either. I'm supposed to invite you and your parents to have dinner with us 'at your earliest convenience'. He'll probably get you into his study alone at some point to ask you about your intentions towards his granddaughter."
"That's not going to be a problem. I'll have you know most of them are very noble," Cedric said, pulling her closer by the arm he had around her shoulders.
"Only most of them? What about the rest?" Cassandra asked, grabbing the front of his sweater and bringing his mouth to hers.
"Oh, those? Those are absolutely filthy. Horrible, really." Cedric said cheekily, and laughed when she kissed him, her arms around his neck. Happy and lost in the moment, Cassandra parted her lips, deepening the kiss. They were so wrapped up in each other, they completely missed the two adults staring at them, amused by their very public display of affection. When they heard a loud cough, the couple jerked apart as if hit with a stinging hex.
"Dad! Mom!" Cedric exclaimed.
"Mr. Diggory, Mrs. Diggory," Cassandra said awkwardly, trying to seem composed.
Mr. Diggory was almost a head shorter than his son, but both shared the same blue-grey eyes and kind smile, which immediately eased Cassandra's tension at being caught making out with her boyfriend by his parents. Mrs. Diggory, however, was clearly the one Cedric got his good looks from. Tall and slender, the witch had sharp, chiseled features and the same warm brown hair as her son.
"No need to be embarrassed, kids. We've all been there, haven't we, honey?" Mr. Diggory said, looking at his wife. "Oh, the joys of young love."
"Dad…" Cedric pleaded.
"Don't mind your father, dear." Mrs. Diggory said. She smiled at Cassandra. "It's very nice to meet you, Miss Lestrange. Cedric's told us a lot about you."
"Please, call me Cassandra. It's very nice to meet you as well. I might be a little biased, but you've raised a wonderful son." Cassandra replied.
"That's our Ced, always a gentleman! Except when he's kissing beautiful young witches in train stations, that is." Mr. Diggory said with a wink, and Cedric blushed. "Is your grandfather coming to collect you, Cassandra? I don't know if he remembers, but we've met a few times over at the Ministry."
"Grandfather isn't a fan of crowds, so I'll call for one of our house-elves to take me home," she said. "And yes, he's mentioned meeting you. As a matter of fact, he wanted me to relay an invitation for dinner at our house, as soon as would be convenient for you. He's eager to meet Cedric, and you as well, Mrs. Diggory."
"Isn't that something?" Mr. Diggory said merrily. "The Diggorys invited to dinner at Lestrange Manor. Your family name might not carry the weight it used to, with the terrible business of your parents in Azkaban and all, but still-"
"What my husband means to say, Cassandra," Mrs. Diggory interrupted, "is that we would be very happy to attend dinner with you and your grandfather. Owl us with a date and time, and we'll be there. We'll let the two of you say your goodbyes."
"I am so sorry about that," Cedric said once his parents were out of earshot.
"It's alright. It could've been a lot worse. At least they don't hate me," Cassandra said honestly. "Write me soon."
"I will," Cedric said with a smile, and kissed her one last time.
Cassandra waved the Diggorys goodbye and called for Mimi, who promptly took her home. Her grandfather had instructed the house-elf to tell her to wash up and meet him in his study, which she did at once. She realized something was wrong as soon as she saw him. He was sitting back in his chair, so lost in thought he didn't notice her until she knocked on the open door to get his attention.
"Come in, Cassandra. Take a seat," her grandfather said.
"Is everything alright?" She said. "Is it about the prophecy?"
"I scheduled a meeting with a representative from the Department of Mysteries for next week. They will only confirm the existence of a prophecy archive to a subject of one of said prophecies, so you will be coming as well." The Black patriarch said. He sighed deeply, and for a moment looked tired and old, older than he had ever seemed to Cassandra. "But that is not what's on my mind. I have received some troubling news, that I believe are directly related to what's been foretold."
"What news?" Cassandra asked anxiously.
"Severus Snape met with Lucius and Narcissa last night, and your aunt flooed me afterwards to talk about what was said. The incident at your school, with the teacher and the Potter boy, wasn't a chance attack made by a deranged wizard. It was proof of something I've feared since I heard your prophecy, that means its events might come true sooner rather than later," he said, looking at her in a manner that seemed almost apologetic.
Cassandra's hands were shaking. She wanted to beg him to stop talking, and spare her from whatever knowledge he'd gained since they had last spoken. She didn't want to know what had happened to Harry Potter, that might be the catalysis for her transformation into a killer. But she was a Lestrange, and whatever else Lestranges were, they were not cowards. She sat quietly, and waited for her grandfather to finish speaking. When he did, the words he uttered made her entire body go cold, and her heart disappear into her chest.
"Cassandra… the Dark Lord is not dead."