The three teenagers bought their favorite ice creams, which they ate as they wandered around Diagon Alley, chatting and examining the shop windows. Cassandra ignored the dirty looks she received from the occasional witch and wizard. Even Florean Fortescue had avoided meeting her eyes while he'd prepared her order, lacking the usual zest he was known for showing in his interactions with customers. When Cedric remarked on it, Cassandra shrugged his concern away. As long as her dark chocolate and banana flavoured ice cream tasted as good as everyone else's, she didn't mind the uncongenial customer service.
They went to Madam Malkin's first. Cedric had grown even taller during the summer, and was in dire need of new robes that fit him properly. As for Cassandra and Adrian, it would be unbecoming of a pair of Slytherins to walk around Hogwarts in year-old school robes. The two friends were fitted first, then sat side-by-side on the comfortable armchairs Madam Malkin offered her waiting clients. They accepted refreshments from another employee and watched the shop owner take Cedric's measurements. When he took out his too-small clothes at the witch's request, Adrian whistled. Cassandra weakly slapped her friend's chest with the back of her hand, holding in a chuckle when she noticed the scarlet blush coloring her boyfriend's cheeks.
"Merlin, how did he get even more fit since June?" Adrian muttered to her while they watched Madam Malkin pin a pair of trousers on Cedric's waiting form.
"He really wanted to impress Ivanovich. I think he felt a little inadequate because he was so behind on his practical spellwork - not his fault, really, it was a given considering the staggering incompetence of our past Defense professors," Cassandra said. "So he woke up every single morning before sunrise to exercise. Said if he couldn't go against me spell-for-spell, he could at least make sure he did his best in every other aspect of our training."
"Did it work?" Adrian asked. "From what you've said of him, Comrade Boris doesn't sound very easy to impress."
"He isn't. But I think it did. Cedric's casting time is ridiculously quick, and I've got nothing on him when it comes to endurance. I'm still the better duelist, but if he manages to draw out a match, he can get me with a lucky shot once I'm worn down. According to Ivanovich that's an 'unfortunate drawback of my weakly woman disposition I must overcome'," Cassandra said, emulating the wizard's strong Russian accent. Adrian snorted, and she found herself laughing with him.
They were quiet for a few moments after her bad impression stopped being funny, and then Cassandra felt her leg being nudged by her friend. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow at the calculating expression on his face.
"You're different," Adrian said.
"How so?" She asked.
"I don't know… lighter, maybe? The last time I saw you, you looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Now you don't," he said. "Did something change?"
Cassandra sighed, and moved Klaus from her shoulder to her lap, stroking his feathers absent-mindedly. She considered how to respond to her friend's words. She knew what he meant. When they had said goodbye to each other at King's Cross after the train ride back from Hogwarts, she'd been weighed down by worry about her future, and the prophecy that loomed over it. Ostensibly, nothing had changed since then. There had been no great discovery that guaranteed her future safety, or major shift in her circumstances to assuage her concerns. But something had happened during the summer that accounted for the difference Adrian saw in her.
"I'm happy," she said honestly. "I had the best summer of my life, Adrian. Cedric was there and everything was just… good. Wonderful, even. All I had to do was keep any thoughts about the future off my mind, focus on living in the present, and it was like the whole prophecy business was nothing more than a bad dream." She looked back in Cedric's direction, at the person responsible for her happiness. "Cedric believes it might not come true. That I can choose not to become what it says I will."
"Do you believe that?" Adrian asked.
Cassandra shrugged; she wasn't sure. "Even if I don't. If he's wrong and no matter what I do to avoid it, all that's been predicted comes true. What do I have to gain by worrying about it? I'll have wasted the few years I have to be happy before everything goes to shit for nothing. I don't want that. I might not be free to choose what I become in the future, but I am free to choose how I live the present. And right now, I'm choosing to enjoy life."
"That's the most sickeningly optimistic thing I have ever heard you say," Adrian said, squinting at her. "Be serious, does Diggory have you under an Imperius?"
"Shut up," she laughed.
"Are you two ready to go?" Cedric said. He was back on his robes and had all their shopping bags with him. Cassandra got up from her armchair and smiled at him. He smiled back, and she pulled him closer to give him a quick but sweet kiss.
"What was that for?" He asked after she let him go.
"Just because," she answered.
They went to Scribbulus Writing Instruments next to purchase parchment, ink and new quills, then to Flourish and Blotts for their school books. Cassandra called for Mimi to take her and Cedric's purchases home rather than walk around carrying the heavy sets of Gilderoy Lockhart's books. Adrian's chin threatened to meet the ground when she informed him that the famous wizard would be their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, something that her uncle Lucius Malfoy, who had a seat on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, had told her grandfather. Apparently, her friend had a crush on the handsome author. Afterwards, they went to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where the three of them ordered new Hogwarts Quidditch robes in their respective House colours, Cassandra bought a new set of beater's bats, and Cedric lovingly eyed a model of the soon-to-be-released Nimbus 2001.
"It's so sleek," he said, admiring the design of the silver and black broomstick.
"It's bloody sexy, that's what it is," Adrian said.
Cassandra wached them drool over the model broom with amusement, then called for the shopkeeper.
"Would replacing a Nimbus 2000 with the 2001 be worth it?" She asked. "How much faster is it going to be?"
"What position do you play?" The shopkeeper replied. He was of average height, but had a thick neck and a large, bulky frame. The typical beater's frame. Cassandra would bet every knut in her purse he'd played professionally. She wouldn't choose to play Quidditch in any position other than beater, but unlike the man, her game couldn't rely on her build. She was tall and slender, and had to compensate for her inferior physical strength with deadly accuracy and a lightning-quick reaction time. She couldn't hit as hard as most male beaters, but she had never been thrown from her broom during a match, and once her bat connected, the bludger never missed her target.
"Beater. But my boyfriend - the tall one with the hair over there - is a seeker, and my friend's a chaser," she answered.
"Not many female beaters," the shopkeeper observed. She couldn't detect any prejudice in his tone, he was simply stating a fact.
"I've been told I have a vicious arm," she said.
He gave her a nod, accepting her answer.
"The Nimbus 2000 performs around 0-90 in ten seconds, 0-100 in ideal conditions with a skilled flyer. The 2001 is going to do 0-100 easily, possibly as high as 0-120 in ten seconds," the burly man explained. "For a beater, broom acceleration isn't what's going to give you an edge over the other players, so you won't lose anything by sticking with a 2000, that broom is still top of the market. The positions where the upgrade is really worth the price tag are chaser and seeker. A seeker on that thing? Would have to work to lose a match."
She thanked the shopkeeper for the information and turned to find her boyfriend listening in on her conversation.
"Are you going to get one?" Cedric asked a little too casually.
Honestly, Cassandra thought, seekers and their brooms. "No reason to," she answered. "He's right, broom acceleration isn't as important to a beater as it is for a chaser, or a seeker. I can buy you one if you want, though."
"Don't be ridiculous," he said, pulling her closer to him. "You gave me the fastest racing broom in the world for Christmas just last year, and I love it."
"For Yule," she corrected.
"For Yule," he agreed.
"And it's soon going to be the second fastest broom the world. I mean it, I'll order you one. Just say the word" she said.
Cedric laughed good-naturedly. "I'm not saying the word."
"You know you want to. Come on, say it," she goaded, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Say please Cassandra, my beautiful rich girlfriend, buy me a Nimbus 2001 so my House can have a chance in hell to win the Quidditch Cup, because my teammates are completely useless."
"I am not saying that, and I don't want a Nimbus 2001," he replied.
"Liar," Cassandra said, and Cedric childishly stuck out his tongue at her. She stuck hers back at him, and they kept up their teasing until they heard someone loudly clear their throat behind them.
"Can we go? Because If I have to watch the two of you for one more second I'll put my head through the shop window," Adrian said.
"I need to stop by Borgin and Burkes, but you don't need to come with," Cassandra said, addressing both wizards.
"I've never heard of it," Cedric said.
"That's because it's in Knockturn Alley," Adrian said. "It's an antique shop that sells all sorts of Dark Arts stuff."
"I'm not letting you go into Knockturn Alley alone," Cedric said. Cassandra cocked her head at his statement, and he faltered. "What I meant so say is, if you're going into Knockturn Alley, I'm coming with you."
"I'm definitely not," Adrian said. "That place creeps me out."
Cassandra noticed the reproving look Cedric shot the other boy. She wasn't the only one.
"Hey, don't look at me like that," Adrian said, raising his hands in a universal gesture of surrender. "The Dark Arts are her birthright. Any place dedicated to it will welcome her with open arms. My family, however, makes trunks. I have no business being in Knockturn Alley."
"Very true. I'll be perfectly fine," Cassandra said.
They parted ways at the Leaky Cauldron, where Adrian flooed home and Cassandra and Cedric took the entrance into the infamous Knockturn Alley. The dingy alleyway was made up almost entirely of shops dedicated to the Dark Arts. Sinister-looking individuals skulked around, and sketchy street vendors invited the passersby to look at their products. It was a grim place filled with suspicious people and dangerous creatures, but Cassandra couldn't find it in herself to be put-off by it. Adrian was right. She was a Lestrange, and the daughter of a Black. There was no magic here her ancestors hadn't dabbled into, or creature they hadn't killed.
They walked by a pale, disturbingly gaunt vampire holding a tray full of vials of what looked like blood. It inhaled deeply as Cassandra crossed its path, but flinched back when Klaus let out a deep croaking call. Ravens were one of the few creatures with the capacity to cross freely between the land of the living and the land of the dead, and they could tell who didn't belong.
"I don't like it here," Cedric said quietly.
"That's obvious," Cassandra said, noticing how tense he was. "But I don't think that's what's really bothering you."
"Adrian's supposed to be your best friend," Cedric said. "He shouldn't have walked away when you announced you planned to walk into danger by yourself. I mean, look at this place. What if something happened to you?"
"In Knockturn Alley? Please," Cassandra said, rolling her eyes. "If I let a hag or a petty thief hurt me, then the small fortune grandfather has been paying Mr. Ivanovich to train me for years has been wasted for nothing. I can handle myself. The worst that might happen to me here today is I get fleeced by Mr. Borgin."
"Still, it's not right," Cedric insisted.
"Look, I love Adrian, he's my best friend, but he's not made of very stern stuff," Cassandra said. "If we did end up in a dangerous situation together, he'd be more trouble than help. I know that, he knows that, so he does the both of us a favor by taking an out when I offer him one. But when I need someone to perform dangerous, untested magic on, or to talk to about my problems and not worry about being judged, he's there for me. So don't be too hard on him," Cassandra said. "Please?"
Cedric side-eyed her, and she smiled sweetly at him.
"Fine. But I still think-"
"We're here," she announced, and dragged him into Borgin and Burkes before he could finish speaking.
When they stepped into the shop, it was Klaus that Cassandra felt getting alarmed. The raven flew from her shoulder to the top of her head for a better vantage point, something it did when it believed she might be under threat. Considering the amount of Dark magic she could feel emanating from the objects displayed in the dusty and dimly lit store, her familiar's reaction wasn't baseless.
"Don't touch anything," she whispered to Cedric. He nodded and clasped his hands behind his back, staying a step behind her to avoid getting in her way. She walked in front of the glass cases, looking at the products displayed, and sidestepped the weaponry that hung from the ceiling. Ritual masks stared down at her from the walls, and she stared back.
After a few minutes of browsing, she felt Klaus moving on his spot on her head, and deducted from his movements there was someone coming in her direction from her eight o'clock.
She was right. "Hello, Mr. Borgin," she said when she recognized the wiry, greasy looking wizard staring at her. It had been years since she'd last visited the shop with her grandfather, but the lanky Mr. Borgin was very easily distinguishable from she shop's other owner, the short and portly Mr. Burke.
The wizard in question bowed deeply to her. "Miss Lestrange, it's an honour. It's been so long since you graced you with your presence, for a moment I took you for your mother."
"Still in Azkaban, I'm afraid," Cassandra said.
"Yes. A tragedy, that is," Mr. Borgin said, excessively effusive. "Your family - on both sides, has always so faithfully patronized us. Please tell me, how may I be of assistance?"
She turned to the ghastly masks on the walls. "Are these cursed? I need something clean, that won't interfere with the magic I'm going to be channeling."
Mr. Borgin's eyes sparked alight with her question. "A ritualist, are you? Oh yes, the ones along the bottom have some magic residue from past use, but anything from the middle going up would suit your purposes well."
Cassandra looked at the masks one by one. Eventually, an onyx black mask made of what she guessed to be dragon hide caught her eye. The material had been sculpted to resemble the long beak and plumed top of a corvid's head. It would disguise her identity, but leave the lower half of her face uncovered. She pointed at it, and Mr. Borgin summoned it.
"Anything else, Miss Lestrange?" The smarmy shopkeeper asked her.
She almost turned to Cedric to ask for his opinion, but thought best not to direct Mr. Borgin's attention to him. She pointed to a bone-white mask that bore a resemblance to an animal skull, from which two large spiraled horns erupted. "Those are not bicorn horns, are they?"
The smile on the shopkeeper's face dimmed. "No, those came from a great kudu," he said. Cassandra couldn't recall ever having heard of such a creature. "A non-magical beast," he clarified. "Virtually identical horns though, I assure you not many wizards will be able to tell the difference."
She understood then he hadn't expected her to be able tell the difference either. The mask was probably priced as if the horns belonged to the cow-like magical creature known for its taste for male human meat. "I'll take it, but I expect to be charged accordingly."
"Of course, Miss, of course," Mr. Borgin said.
She moved to the displays of bones. "I'll need an assortment of human bones as well, small ones. Can you tell if they belonged to someone who suffered a violent death, or who passed from natural causes?"
"Do you have a preference, Miss?" Mr. Borgin asked.
"Yes, murder would be best, suicide is fine. And that will be all for today," she answered.
The wizard nodded, and started bagging the items she requested. Cassandra sneaked a glance at Cedric, who seemed to be focusing on not looking as uncomfortable and out-of-place as he had to be feeling.
"From what I knew of your parents, Miss Lestrange, they would be most pleased to know their daughter is upholding the old ways," Mr. Borgin said. He looked up at Klaus, and then back at her. "If you happen to start branching into the… bloodier arts, we have a wealth of resources you might be interested into."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said.
Cassandra paid for her purchases, then left the shop with Cedric in tow. Once they were back at the Leaky Cauldron, he exhaled as if expunging smoke from his lungs.
"I-" he started, "What-"
She waited patiently for her boyfriend to work through his thoughts.
"What did he mean by 'bloodier arts'?" Cedric asked finally.
"Necromancy," Cassandra said. "Ravens have a close link with the afterlife. It makes them favoured companions for necromancers."
Cedric's face blanched at her answer. "You're not, though. Branching into…"
"Have you seen me trying to raise any dead lately?" Cassandra asked with mirth.
"What did you buy human bones for, then? Of murder and suicide victims?" Cedric asked, whispering the final words like he couldn't make himself say them out loud.
"They're for a Samhain ritual. I assure you, nothing untoward will be going on. I actually picked the horned mask for you, in case you want to participate," she said.
"You did?" Cedric asked with surprise.
"I did. So you don't have to worry about becoming a minion of evil in my Dark army anytime soon," Cassandra replied.
"You're not funny," Cedric said.
"I so am."