Disclaimer: Not mine.

As I've said before, if you feel like I'm getting the voice of a character wrong, please let me know. I may not always agree, but I'm always willing to entertain such critique if given politely.

Cassiopeia

By Kylia

Chapter 12

May 4th, 2003
Archangel, Muggle London

Cassiopeia knew she was sitting too stiffly, but it was hard to relax when she kept wondering just what Pansy had planned next. Even if, rationally Cassiopeia knew it wasn't as if Pansy would actually dose her drink with some sort of aphrodisiac potion to actually force her 'get Cass shagged' plan. Of course that just meant whatever else she was going to do...

She was - quite obviously - up to something. And Granger was probably involved.

And what business does Granger have looking that good? Cassiopeia added. She didn't think she'd ever seen dark green on the other witch before, but it was absolutely a color that looked-

Nope, nope, nope. Cassiopeia closed her eyes and inhaled. She wasn't going to think about that, or about how good Granger's arse had looked in those tight pants as she'd walked with Pansy to the bar either.

She-Weasley - soon to be She-Potter, Cassiopeia supposed - was chatting away with Blaise and Longbottom, some sort of gossip that involved people and things Cassiopeia didn't care about. Cassiopeia looked over at Lovegood, who seemed to be content to watch her boyfriends with a soft smile on her face. The earrings were interesting - despite being coiled snakes, they were still bigger and more... unusual than most earrings, so very much like Lovegood's avant-garde style, still. But perhaps a bit less absurd than bloody turnips and radishes or whatever she'd gone with before.

"So, Lovegood," Theo chimed in, looking at the girl, "how did you and Longbottom actually... well, you know, start up with Blaise?" He raised an eyebrow.

"We met here, actually, at this club," Luna explained, gesturing around them. "Neville had been curious about actually trying a man, and since we're happy together otherwise, it obviously had to be something we did at least a little bit together."

"And of course you wouldn't want to go to a Wizarding club to find a third person," Cassiopeia observed. It wasn't 'verboten' - as Granger had put it - to have a threesome, put crudely. It wasn't something one discussed in polite society, but a one-time fling with a third party, or something of that ilk was at least technically acceptable in the loosest sense. But it still wouldn't be someone one would seek out even remotely publicly.

"Precisely," Luna agreed, nodding. "We didn't expect to meet another wizard here, but meeting Blaise went from surprise to a bit of catching up, and then..." she shrugged, pressing against Blaises side and running her hand along the back of his neck, distracting him from his own conversation for a moment.

"It was really just a thing we wanted to just do once, to try it," Luna continued, after she pulled away from Blaise. "But it proved to be," she grinned salaciously, "something worth repeating. And Blaise is quite a charming man," she added.

"Is she talking about the same guy we've known since we were kids?" Theo asked, looking at Cassiopeia and raising an eyebrow, smirking.

"Apparently. Since when could Blaise be charming? I thought he was just full of himself." Cassiopeia replied, unable to stop from smiling herself. Blaise looked away from his conversation again long enough to stick his tongue out at the two of them. "Real mature, Blaise."

"Well, I think Blaise has a lot to be full of himself about," Luna added, and Cassiopeia laughed.

"Good to have independent confirmation of that, Lovegood." Cassiopeia added. She paused for a moment, the momentary confidence to carry on the conversation fleeing. The 'music' in the background was absolutely not helping with how out of place she felt, and as it changed to another song - still bafflingly incomprehensible - the new tune distracted her enough, reminded her...

She was in a muggle club, and she was talking to someone she'd last seen - well... under less than ideal circumstances.

"How do you find the music?" Lovegood asked, suddenly. "I find it quite soothing, actually."

"Soothing? This cacophony?" Cassiopeia grimaced. "I suppose I can see how it can make someone dance... if you call that dancing," She gestured to the 'dance floor' where a whole host of muggles, most of them pissed or on their way there, were moving around together, practically all of them pressing up against at least one other person as they 'danced', or so it looked to her. "But... soothing?"

It's more flinging your body around and grinding up against someone while you do it. Not that part of Cassiopeia couldn't appreciate the appeal of the idea of grinding against an attractive woman to music... uncouth as the thought was.

"There's a lovely... primal note to it," Lovegood explained. Cassiopeia couldn't disagree, but again, 'soothing' wouldn't be the word she'd have used to describe it. But before she could disagree with Lovegood any further, Pansy and Granger returned with drinks, setting them down in front of everyone, naming them as they went.

"A Fireball Whiskey for Weasley," Pansy set the drink down in front of the redhead. "Hermione assures it's the closest thing there is to Firewhiskey here." Another in front of She-Weasley, this time by Granger.

"Aperol Spritz for you, Ginny."

"And a Screaming Orgasm for you, Cass," Pansy added, and Cassiopeia tore her eyes away from the drinks the others had gotten, looking at Pansy.

"The hell, Pansy?" Cassiopeia demanded, feeling heat on her cheeks. All of the others at the table looked at her after her outburst, Theo and Blaise with knowing smirks on their face.

"It's the name of the drink, you idiot," Pansy thwacked her hand across Cassiopeia's shoulder. Cassiopeia flushed again, mortified at her reaction. She looked at the drink. It was in a tall glass, filled with crushed ice and a somewhat thick-looking white drink, chocolate shavings dusted across the top. "Amaretto, Coffee liquor, Vodka, Irish Cream. Disgustingly sweet, so right up your alley." Pansy leaned down a bit to whisper in her ear, "And hopefully keep your mind on the other reason we're here."

And back to flushing for the first reason. And mortification too, really. She cleared her throat as Pansy pulled away, and Cassiopeia caught Granger's expression - or really, caught Granger refusing to look at her. Pansy told her about her plan, didn't she? Cassiopeia shouldn't have been surprised, really. Not that there was any risk of Granger being Pansy's partner in crime here. From everything Pansy had said about her time dating Granger, the ex-Gryffindor was an amused observer of Pansy's antics rather than a participant.

Which was good, because it was annoying enough that one of her friends was on this scheme. I'm not interested, Pansy! Not now. And not at a Muggle club.

As Granger and Pansy sat down, Cassiopeia grimaced and picked up the drink. Pansy's description had sounded good... she brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.

"Merlin damn it," Cassiopeia grumbled, after letting the sweet cocktail linger on her tongue for a long moment. "I hate you, Pansy," she added, quietly.

"Love you too, Cass," Pansy blew a kiss at her.

"A toast," Theo suggested, lifting up his own drink, "To relationships and friendships, new and old, hm?" He grinned, "If Blaise, Lovegood and Longbottom are going to stay together, I suspect we'll be seeing each other a good bit going forward."

"Probably," Potter agreed, lifting his own drink as well, and everyone else followed suit with their own drinks, Cassiopeia included.

"I suppose you two aren't too bad," Weasley allowed, nodding to Theo and Blaise. "As for you..." Weasley looked at her and raised an eyebrow. "Well-"

"I suspect tolerating each other is the likely outcome, Weasley," Cassiopeia grumbled.

Weasley laughed, "Same old Malfoy. Just prettier." Cassiopeia rolled her eyes. So lovely to hear that Ron Weasley thought she was pretty.

"I dunno, Malfoy's always been pretty," She-Weasley commented. "Didn't you compare her to an Angel once in 5th year, Luna?"

"She certainly did have a certain... mood to her," Lovegood confirmed. "But I do think she's prettier now. Comfort in your own skin adds to it." Cassiopeia flushed again, taking another sip from her entirely too delicious drink.

I'm going to have to see if I can get the House Elves to make this at the Manor... Cassiopeia realized. Though she was absolutely not going to let her mother know the name of the damned thing.

"Being pretty is just my right as a Malfoy," Cassiopeia finally said as she set her drink down, having collected herself a bit more. "Superior heritage and all that," she added, smirking.

"I thought that was from all the inbreeding," Blaise suggested blithely, and both Weasley's and Potter made small noises of surprise at him saying that. Longbottom and Lovegood, both clearly used to Blaise's utterly bent sense of humor by now, just chuckled.

"Well, when you can only marry someone as attractive as you are, that does rather limit the pool of options," Cassiopeia agreed, grinning, and then she laughed, covering her mouth to keep it from being embarrassingly loud.

"Well, by that metric, I suppose we can expect your upcoming nuptials with your reflection in the mirror, Malfoy?" Granger guessed, and despite herself, Cassiopeia couldn't help but giggle a little. I suppose Granger picked up something of a real sense of humor from dating Pansy.

"Claws out, Hermione!" Pansy laughed. "You're not wrong, it would be such a sweet couple too. Cassiopeia's very fond of that possible bride to be, after all."

"Excuse me, but who has spent more time in front of a mirror preparing for things between the two of us, Pans?" Cassiopeia countered, sticking her tongue out at the dark-haired witch. Pansy rolled her eyes.

"In total, maybe, but over the last few years? I know how much time you spent at Madame MacQuiston's."

"Trying on new clothes or standing still while getting measured for a new dress doesn't count!" Cassiopeia countered. "I needed a whole new wardrobe!" And of course, she couldn't get her dresses from anywhere but the best - Madame MacQuiston was the premiere dressmaker and designer in wizarding America.

"Wait, you - Madame MacQuistons? In Wizarding New York?" She-Weasley asked. "You were in America the last five years? What is MacQuiston like? Is that one of her dresses?" She added, quickly. "I've seen some of her designs in Witch Weekly, but she doesn't like to travel overseas."

"Yes, yes, prima donna and yes." Cassiopeia answered in order. "She's the best at what she does, and she knows it." It hadn't been pleasant standing still for those measurements, given the woman's irascible attitude. It was made worse by the fact that rather than telling her how to stand or to move her arm or what have you, MacQuiston had just used her wand to move Cassiopeia around as needed, while taking measurements.

"Well, I don't care if she's a prima donna about it when her creations look the way they do," She-Weasley gushed on about MacQuiston for another minute, the brilliance of her designs, some details about the witch's history in fashion that even Cassiopeia hadn't known.

"Why America?" Lovegood asked, cocking her head to the side a moment. "It's a fascinating country, but getting permission to visit the Sasquatch reservations is nearly impossible, so I haven't been able to go yet."

"I - I can't say I looked into that part," Cassiopeia admitted. Certainly, you couldn't spend five years in America without learning a bit about the reclusive Beings - even more than centaurs did, they lived apart from Wizards and Witches, and relied on their own natural magic to keep themselves hidden from the muggles. But it was only a cursory bit of information she'd learned about them. "As for why America..." Cassiopeia trailed off, then shrugged, "It was somewhat random."

"It was because the name Malfoy doesn't mean much in America," Theo volunteered, and Cassiopeia glared at him, though he just smirked and met her gaze without flinching. "Whereas pretty much everywhere in Europe, it's known."

"...being able to avoid as much notice had its merits, yes," Cassiopeia conceded, drinking from her 'Screaming Orgasm' again. Why does it even have that name? Just to - what, mortify people ordering it?

"Oh, please, even if you actually wanted to avoid attention, there's no way you ever could," Granger cut in, scoffing. "I mean... " Granger gestured at Cassiopeia as she took another sip of her drink, which Cassiopeia noted had pieces of fruit floating in it, then she shook her head, not finishing that. "You were always trying to be the center of attention at school." She held up one arm, letting her hand hang limply as if her wrist was broken, sneering and mimicking the way Cassiopeia had sounded when she was thirteen, better than she'd have expected. "The hippogriff nearly killed me! I can't move my arm!"

Cassiopeia raised an eyebrow, "Are you still upset about that? Didn't that bloody beast escape, anyway?" Granger had been worked up about it. She still remembered the punch. And exactly how it felt.

"It was still an innocent creature you tried to have executed because you couldn't hold your tongue for five seconds, and then you milked a minor injury for months." Granger countered. "You were always trying to get attention at Hogwarts, one way or the other. Those badges in 4th year, sucking up to Umbridge-" Granger started ticking off.

"Oh yes, and you were such a wallflower, Granger!" Cassiopeia interrupted, sneering the words out. She raised her hand, affecting Granger's voice, "Oh Professor McGonagall pick me, I know the answer!" She lowered her hand, returning her voice to normal. "Always raising your hand in every class, the only thing more noticeable than that was your wild, untamed hair!"

"As opposed to the gallons of gel you must have stuck into yours back then?" Granger shot back, rolling her eyes, then looked over Cassiopeia's hair, eyes trailing along it up and down for a moment, "Though at least you've stopped that. But my point stands: You were always seeking attention at Hogwarts, and there's no way you didn't attract attention in America, the way you look." Granger concluded.

The other witch's eyes were nearly blazing, and though neither of them had yelled, both had raised their voices. I forgot she looks like this when she's angry... Cassiopeia hadn't thought about Granger much for years, but...

Cassiopeia growled in frustration, but cut herself off midway as she processed what else Granger had said. She took a breath, then cocked an eyebrow, letting her voice drop into a cool, refined tone, channeling her mother.

"Are you saying I turn heads, Granger? Yours, maybe?" Cassiopeia smirked, "You were staring at me earlier." Ignoring that Granger and her dark green draped shirt hinted at showing off her entire chest, but not quite. And unless Cassiopeia was mistaken, Granger wasn't wearing any sort of brassiere underneath, either.

Of course, you aren't either, because it would hardly work with the dress.

"I-" Granger spluttered a moment, then shook her head, "We already established that you're pretty." She added.,

"We established that I think I'm pretty, not that you think I'm so gorgeous as to turn heads everywhere I go." Cassiopeia countered, leaning forward a bit. Pansy and Weasley both tried to say something, or started to say something, or even were saying something, but Cassiopeia wasn't paying attention to either of them, watching Granger's reactions as the other witch flushed. "Is that what you really think about me, Granger?" She smirked, licking her lips slowly, satisfied at the way Granger's eyes seemed to follow her tongue for a long moment. "That I'm 'gorgeous'?"

"I can't be held responsible for what you imagine about me," Granger countered, but she didn't seem to deliver them with full confidence in her words, a moment's hesitation, a flick of the eyes, looking Cassiopeia over. She grabbed her drink and took a long sip, hiding her face behind the glass.

"I am imagining a good bit now," Cassiopeia purred, enjoying the way Granger cleared her throat. She was paying no attention to anyone else, watching Granger get flustered - even if not that much - was just too much fun. "I remember what you said the other day, about swots devoting themselves to learning something, entirely." Cassiopeia could only imagine - Pansy was not exactly one to put up with anything other then stellar sex, and as dedicated as Granger could be to learning...

Despite herself, Cassiopeia let a few images run through her mind, feeling her own cheeks heat as she imagined what Granger might do with what she'd learned... and as commanding as she always is... how would she -

Cassiopeia leaned a bit more forward, scooting her chair a little closer in, giving Granger a bit of a chance to stare down the front of her chest. "Besides, with how you don't ever shut up, I have to imagine you're very, very good with your tongue." Cassiopeia added, a low, throaty laugh escaping her lips as she watched Granger's eyes darken a little, her cheeks got fully pink, and the witch cleared her throat, taking another long sip of her drink.

"But the question is... what are you imagining?" Cassiopeia added. She picked up her own drink, unable to stop herself as she took another sip and went on, "Are you imagining if the drink is aptly named?" She teased. "Believe me... it is, for me." Some part of her mind not obsessed with watching Granger flush was confused she was acting like this, but...

Damnit, Pansy was right, it's been a long time since I've had any fun like this! Teasing someone, flirting... it had been a long time since she'd done it, really watched someone lose-

"I'm imagining how much it would take to make you shut up," Granger said suddenly, no longer sounding flustered, but in full control of herself, her own voice low. "What would it take to make you scream so loud, so much, you can't talk afterwards?"

Fuck.

"I'm game to find out if you are?" Cassiopeia purred, before she could think about the words coming from her lips.

"Don't start something you're not capable of finishing, Malfoy," Granger said, her voice now with a bit of a purr as well, but darker, almost threatening - more like some large predator cat. Cassiopeia met Granger's gaze, meeting her challenge. She was about to open her mouth with another reply when Pansy bursting into laughter finally distracted her from what was happening at the rest of the table.

Everyone - everyone - there was staring in various stages of confusion and even horror, in the case of Potter and the Weasel - except for Pansy, who was now giggling like a madwoman,

"I -" giggle, "I take it back, Hermione," Pansy's eyes were full of mischief and mirth, "I am seriously suggesting it now. You two should shag!"

Pansy's words brought the reality of just what Cassiopeia had been doing, just who she'd been doing it with, and just where she'd been doing it home in an extremely unwelcome way, like the Hogwarts Express crashing into a brick wall. Flushing, Cassiopeia pulled back, pushing her chair back into place, grimacing, feeling the mortification burn across her face. Merlin, what the hell was I saying?

"What the bloody hell was that?" Weasley's voice was almost a squeak as he demanded an answer.

"That, Weasley, was alchemy," Pansy was still giggling, though at least she had it under more control.

"That was the alcohol hitting too quickly at once," Granger answered her redheaded friend. "Nothing more."

"For once in your life Granger, I agree with you." Cassiopeia muttered, refusing to look Pansy in the eye. At least Theo and Blaise seemed just as surprised and horrified as Granger's friends... though was Lovegood smiling?

"I'm going to need another drink to make sure I forgot I saw or heard any of that," Weasley muttered, and Potter and even Blaise added 'hear hear', agreeing with him.

"If that's your idea of alchemy, Pansy, I'm baffled how you ever managed to pass Potions class," Cassiopeia added. "What are you thinking? Granger?" She grimaced, trying to will herself back to a state of calm, collected control, but she felt... frazzled, a bit raw even, like an exposed nerve.

"Oh, yes, like you're the only one being insulted by the prospect," Granger snapped. Cassiopeia rolled her eyes, but Granger went on: "As if I'd ever want to be with you."

Alright, so it wasn't that Cassiopeia had some secret long-harbored crush on Granger (thank Merlin), but no one liked hearing a rejection in that tone. Granger's friends were at least more than satisfied with the certainty of her words.

"Hermione!" Pansy exclaimed, aghast, mouth dropping open. "I mean, fine, ignore me, but don't go talking about one of my best friends like that," Pansy pointed at her ex sternly, and Granger flushed, clearing her throat.

"I- '' she cleared her throat again, clasping her hands together a moment, then pulling them apart. "Sorry."

Cassiopeia waved her hand, "Oh, no need to apologize, it's not like I didn't expect it," Cassiopeia didn't need a pity apology. She went on though: "It's not a matter of insult, Granger, we're just not remotely compatible." Not given their pasts, not given their social circles - intersection via Pansy or not - not given their backgrounds and cultural contexts. And Cassiopeia enjoyed a good book, but nowhere to the degree Granger did.

It wasn't possible.

Not possible.

Cassiopeia looked at her drink and downed the rest of it. She didn't envy her hangover tomorrow, because she was going to get another drink, and hopefully she'd forget most of tonight by tomorrow.

"I'm going to get another one of these," Cassiopeia stated, standing up. She looked over at Blaise, Lovegood and Longbottom, "apologies for momentarily overtaking the party. I'll be back in a moment."

Cassiopeia took a breath as she walked over towards the bar, catching the attention of a tall, leanly muscled, dark-haired woman behind the bar. Of course, dressed as she was, Cassiopeia was attracting a lot of attention. The bartender was an attractive woman, and Cassiopeia focused on that, trying to banish from her mind how much she'd enjoyed her banter with Granger, and all that had come with it.

"You're a little overdressed for here," the bartender observed, looking her up and town. "Not that it doesn't look amazing on you. What can I get you?" She added.

What if Pansy was messing with me about the drink's name? That was exactly the sort of prank Pansy might pull, especially if she saw this particular bartender, and expected Cassiopeia might want another. A good bet, given how sweet the drink had been.

Cassiopeia let her eyes briefly trail over the woman's bared arms - she was wearing an odd shirt that didn't cover her shoulders even, just two straps over them, holding the dark blue garment up. It also bared a hint of her midriff, hinting at a defined abdomen. Cassiopeia swallowed.

Very different from Granger, but just as sexy. Wait? No, Granger wasn't - damnit.

The thoughts only took a few moments, though it felt like more, and finally she opened her mouth, flushing.

"My friend ordered my drink for me, and it was very good, I'd like another." Cassiopeia started. "Only now I'm starting to wonder if she was messing with me when she said the name. Is there such a drink as a Screaming Orgasm?" She cleared her throat again, glad she'd managed to not stutter out that.

I am actually capable of not being a wreck when sex comes up.

"There is. Did your drink taste like a coffee milkshake?"

Milkshake? It did taste like coffee, and milk. Why would someone want to shake milk? Would that somehow change the flavor?

"It did," Cassiopeia said, hoping she was right.

"Then yeah, that's what your friend got for you. You'd like another one then?" Cassiopeia nodded, and the woman started adding careful measures from several bottles into a shaker. "You don't come to clubs often, do you?"

"Not this sort of club, no." Cassiopeia admitted.

"Pretty obvious," the bartender observed, and Cassiopeia couldn't help but admit that too, nodding along as the muggle shook the drink. But no milk added yet, so it wasn't a milkshake? "Let me guess, this friend of yours dragged you here?" She raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting a yes.

How?

"Uhm... yes." Cassiopeia wasn't sure why she was admitting it, apart from the fact that the woman seemed to be guessing it so clearly anyway... "My friend is of the mind that I desperately need to get shagged."

"Well, you might have some good luck with that. Overdressed or not, you're gorgeous. You just need to loosen up a bit, so people don't think you're unapproachable." She advised, pouring out the shaker into a glass and then adding milk, stirring everything together momentarily, and setting it in front of Cassiopeia. Cassiopeia pulled a muggle paper note from a magically concealed 'pocket' in her dress, setting it down in front of the bartender.

"Keep the change," Cassiopeia added, guessing she was overpaying, but from the way the bartender's eyes widened a bit, perhaps more than she'd thought she was. Cassiopeia looked at the drink, letting out a breath.

"Okay, all flirting about how you're too pretty to sit there looking like your dog just died aside, you don't look remotely enthused about your friend's plans. You don't have to let her pressure you into moving faster than you're ready for." The bartender said, in a tone meant to be reassuring. She had a look on her face, a sort of... not pitying, but... mentorly? Perhaps. Looking at Cassiopeia as if she was much older than her, imparting some sort of wisdom. She's likely only got a few years on me.

"Pansy's something of a force of nature when she gets an idea in her head, but I have no intention of..." she trailed off. "I've never owned a dog," come to think of it, Cassiopeia only knew a few people who owned one of those terrible little hellbeasts, Hagrid notwithstanding. They weren't a common pet in the Wizarding World.

"My nonexistent dog didn't die, but my father passed recently," Cassiopeia had no idea why she was saying this, to some random strange muggle she didn't know, but the woman did almost... Cassiopeia paused, closing her eyes, trying to see if there was any sort of magical aura - did the woman -

No, there was no spell on her that she could detect, without more formal diagnostic. Maybe it was the drink? Or just... all of it? The drink, the fighting and then flirting with Granger, the...

The bartender just seemed easy to talk to. Maybe the fact that it was a stranger... This woman had no idea who Cassiopeia was. What a Malfoy was.

"I'm sorry to hear that," the woman said, sounding sincere. You wouldn't be if you knew how much he hated you just for existing. Well, maybe not hate. Regular muggles weren't worth Lucius Malfoy's hate. It would be like hating an ant, or a worm, to him.

"Don't be. He was a bigoted bastard. He'd gotten out of prison six months before." Cassiopeia sipped at her drink, but she didn't really taste it this time. "I didn't talk to him the entire time. Or visit while he was in prison. I -" she let out a long, slow breath. "I always assumed I'd have a chance to yell at him later."

"And you never did." The bartender nodded. "He didn't approve of you being gay, did he?"

Gay? The word found purchase in Cassiopeia's mind after she furrowed her brow for a moment. It was the muggle term for liking your own gender, right? She knew it was common among muggles to think being sapphic or androphillic was 'wrong' somehow, but -

"No, no, father never had an issue with that." Nor had he had an issue with Cassiopeia becoming the woman she'd always been. With her being Cybelan. "He..." she trailed off, trying to find the right way to describe it for a muggle. "He was very particular about people's breeding. The wrong sort of breeding meant you were beneath him, as far as he was concerned."

"Ah. The posh, lordly sort of bastard. Misses the Empire, votes Tory all the time, thinks the poor should just starve?" Cassiopeia didn't follow along with all of that - who was 'Tory'? Some prominent muggle politician?

"Essentially," Cassiopeia nodded. She inhaled a long breath. "I hate him. And I miss him every day." She admitted. "I... I was a right shit, as a child, thanks to him. And I was reminded about that today, too."

"Ran into a familiar face?"

"And argued with her." Cassiopeia didn't want to remember the flirting, so she didn't bring it up. "Then I came here."

"Just an argument?" The bartender raised her eyebrow again, somehow having a knowing expression on her face.

"...are you reading my mind, somehow?"

The bartender scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm good at reading people, and good at guessing. This girl - secret crush?"

"No!" Cassiopeia protested, "This girl, Granger... I - I made her life a hell, in school, and my social circle did worse." That was about as much as she could say. My aunt tortured her in the drawing room! Couldn't really bring those sorts of details up. "But we argued, and then started..." Cassiopeia flushed, "suddenly we're flirting and my friend announces she thinks I should shag Granger and-"

Cassiopeia mimicked Granger's voice, complete with that... unpleasant tone to her rejection. "As if I'd ever want to be with you." Cassiopeia took another drink from her drink, feeling a little lightheaded. "It's not something anyone wants to hear, like that. I don't like her, I mean -Granger's got no business looking so fit, especially with that stupid untamed hair - but... didn't feel good, hearing it."

"Well, if you did treat her that badly, she's got a right to be upset." the bartender pointed out. Which Cassiopeia agreed with. "But no one likes to hear a rejection like that, especially not with everything else you've clearly got going on. But you know you're not the same little shit you were as a kid, so..." the muggle shrugged. "It's easy to say 'just ignore her' but... you know who you are."

Then the bartender smirked, "But, if you think she's fit, maybe you should take your friend's advice, you know. Not tonight, but sometime."

"What - you can't just-"

"Trust me. I speak from experience when I say hatesex is satisfying as hell." The bartender smirked. "Not something to repeat that often, but as a way to end a dry spell?"

"You really don't know what you're talking about." Cassiopeia shook her head, standing. "I should get back to my friends. I - thank you. For listening."

"Hazard of the job." the bartender offered her a softer smile. "If you ever come by this place again, I usually get off shift around one," she added. "Maybe you can buy me a drink then." She grinned, leaning over to pat Cassiopeia's cheek lightly, and moved off before Cassiopeia could respond, taking orders from a group that arrived at the bar.

...almost tempting. For the future.

But the idea of actually...

Not with a muggle. Too many secrets, too many lies, too much holding back and -

Cassiopeia made her way over to the table again. The stupidity of the bartender agreeing with Pansy on the 'shag Granger' front aside, Cassiopeia did feel oddly better. It was strange, but... maybe it was just having more to drink. She was starting to feel the effects, flushing from the alcohol rather than embarrassment or... interest.

As she arrived back at the table, She-Weasley was sharing a story about her recent game as a Chaser with the Harpies. It was halfway through the action, but as Cassiopeia slipped into her chair, and met Pansy's eye with a small nod, she listened to the story. She-Weasley told it with some skill, and it was quite engrossing.

Cassiopeia studiously avoided looking at Granger the rest of the night, and mostly just listened to the conversations, chiming in a few times, and being pressed by Lovegood and Longbottom to share a few anecdotes about America. Eventually, after she finished her second drink, Pansy physically dragged her to the dance floor, as Blaise, Lovegood and Longbottom were already on their way there.

The events on the dance floor were ones that Cassiopeia would quite insistently say she had forgotten entirely, the next day. And they were a bit blurry, but...

It had been fun, even if it really wasn't 'dancing'.

Cassiopeia didn't get shagged though, much to Pansy's repeated, loud and slurred annoyance as they stumbled into an alley to use a portkey to go back to the Parkinson Estate and floo home from there.