DISCLAIMER: For all the Harry Potters I own, I have a million bucks. Oh wait…no Harry Potters, and definitely no million bucks.
A/N: Hellooo! That last chapter sure was interesting, I WiSh mOrE pEoPLe wOuLD rEvIew. Haha, just kidding…but seriously, please tell me if you liked it. It's not even for the review count (though that's pretty great, too), I just want to know if you enjoyed it.
Anyway, I hate begging, but I absolutely love writing, and I know—hope—you guys like reading my story. So, I'll just get to that and stop begging for reviews.
OoOoO
Hermione left the Great Hall with Ron, a worried frown on her face. Harry hadn't shown up at all during lunch. Ron had brushed off her concerned comments, but she still wasn't sure everything was all right. Ron's brain is completely wired to food, why should he care his best friend is missing? Hermione thought sourly, shooting the red-haired boy a glare he didn't see.
"Don't start with me, Hermione. I'm sure Harry's fine; probably took the lunch hour to finish up his Transfiguration essay," Ron said as the two headed up to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve their bags. Maybe he had seen the look Hermione had sent him.
"Ronald, you should be more worried about Harry. What if," she lowered her voice considerably, almost to a whisper, "his scar was upsetting him or something?"
"Harry's a big boy, Hermione. I'm sure he can handle whatever it is that's got him skipping lunch," Ron dismissed with a wave of his hand. Hermione pressed her lips together firmly to keep from cutting a snappish remark at him.
As they rounded a corner, they suddenly saw the object of Hermione's worry. Harry was walking with Cass, both of their backs facing Hermione and Ron. She may have been imagining it, but Hermione thought the two were standing rather stiffly. Awkwardly, very awkwardly.
"Oh, Harry!" she called. The two turned around, and Hermione felt herself intake a sharp breath. They had always looked similar, but both Harry and Cass wore the exact same expression of numbness that Hermione was forced to see just how alike they looked. Each had bright green eyes—those seemed a bit disbelieving right now—and the way they held themselves was almost identical. Even their hair was similar, though Cass's was slightly lighter and loads more manageable looking.
Ron and Hermione made a move towards them, but Harry shook his head firmly. Questions of concern died on Hermione's tongue at the look on Harry's face. Either Ron didn't sense the tension in the air, or he chose to ignore it (Hermione was sure it was the former, considering how tactless the boy was) for he asked, "Harry, mate, where were you?"
"I—I was in Dumbledore's office," Harry replied. Hermione could have slapped Ron for the strained look on Harry's face. "I'll…I'll talk with you guys later."
Although she was dying to know what had happened, and why he was with Cass, Hermione restrained herself from asking Harry. She couldn't do it; both him and Cass looked as if one more question might break them.
"Okay…" Hermione said slowly. "Ron, come on. We have to get our bags; class will start soon." Was Harry going to miss class? Professor Flitwick was going over Silencing Charms today… "Come on, Ron," she repeated a bit more forcefully, giving him a small nudge in the direction of the stairs. He had a confused look on his face, and she was sure hers held one similar.
What was going on?
OoOoO
Cass watched the retreating forms of Ron and Hermione with apathy. In the absence of Dumbledore to scream at, shock had replaced her anger. For the love of—of—Cass didn't even know a strong enough curse—she was walking next to her twin brother! And he was four years older than her! And he was the Boy Who Lived. And he is destined to kill Voldemort or die at his hands. She stumbled over her foot as her thoughts went wild with numb disbelief.
"You good?" Harry asked.
"No," Cass replied honestly. "You?"
"I don't really know, honestly," was his reply. They reached a stairwell and began to ascend. They were headed to the Room of Requirement. It had been the only place Cass could think of where no one would overhear them trying to work out the mess their emotions were at the moment—and would probably be for quite some time.
The rest of the walk was spent in a tense silence. Cass couldn't keep her eyes off Harry…off her twin. Every few seconds, the truth would hit her, and each time it felt just unbelievable as the first time. Harry was her twin. Her mind couldn't seem to move on from that fact, not even to acknowledge that she had finally found out who her parents were. It was easy to forget about her mum and dad, who were years—years dead (the thought hurt Cass), when she was looking at her twin brother, who was very much alive and tangible.
Finally, they reached the seventh floor. Cass's feet carried her to the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy on their own accord, having gone to D.A. meetings for weeks. For weeks…she had unknowingly been attending secret, illegal clubs with her twin brother for weeks—no, months! Fresh tears filled her eyes, so she angrily blinked them away. Now was not a time for tears. Cass was of the belief that tears solved no problems and only made things worse.
"We need somewhere to talk, we need somewhere to talk, we need somewhere to talk," Harry mumbled distractedly beside her. He hadn't needed to say that aloud; Cass knew he was speaking for her, as well.
A door appeared in the blank space opposite the portrait. Preparing herself for the inevitable, stupid tears, Cass followed Harry into the Room of Requirement.
A much different scene than usual greeted her. Instead of training dummies and mats, a nice, cozy fireplace and two fluffy armchairs were set up in a room much smaller than the one the D.A. practiced in. The space was lit by soft candles in brackets on the stone walls. A plush rug covered most of the ground, which was also stone. Wordlessly, Cass and Harry took their seats in each of the armchairs.
"Er…" Harry said awkwardly, moving a shaky hand through his unruly hair.
"Where do we start?" Cass hated the tremble in her voice, and forced herself to take a deep, if not necessarily calming, breath.
"I dunno. Uh, how about…where did you grow up?"
Cass sighed with relief. That wasn't so bad. "I grew up in Whitefield, Manchester with my…with my grandparents." She had almost stopped herself from saying "grandparents" but had continued. However much James and Lily had loved her, Joyce and Jimmy McGarther had raised her. They deserved to be called her family, biological or not. "They're not my biological grandparents, of course, but…they're my family," she added.
"What are they like?" Harry asked.
"They're…wonderful, but that doesn't begin to describe them. Grandma Joyce is the most caring person, and Grandpa Jimmy…well, to call him funny would be the world's biggest understatement," Cass replied, smiling slightly. The thought of her grandparents eased some of the tension in her shoulders.
"They sound amazing," Harry said, smiling, too.
"They are," Cass agreed. "What about you? Where did you grow up?"
Harry's face darkened slightly. "The Dursleys…they're my—" Harry sucked in a breath. "—our mum's family. Or, Aunt Petunia is m—our aunt, and Dudley is my cousin. Our cousin, he's our cousin," he said. Every time he had corrected himself, he had flinched. Cass grimaced for him; she was going to have to get used to that, too.
Even though she had a bad feeling she wouldn't like his answer, she asked, "What're…what're they like?" She had a cousin and an aunt. Tiredly, she added it to the mountain of unbelievable things she already had piled in her head.
"They're…not the best," Harry replied. Cass's eyes smarted painfully.
"Go to your cupboard, freak!" a purple-faced man shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.
A small, dark-haired boy flinched back and ran away. Tears flooded down his face, clouding up his round, taped glasses.
With a lurch, Cass's world slammed back into focus. Harry was looking at her oddly, and she realized she must have missed something he said while Seeing her vision. Unwillingly, her eyes filled up with water. How could those monsters have kept Harry in a cupboard? Called him a freak? Dumbledore—how could he have allowed Harry to stay there? For the fiftieth time that day, hot anger boiled up inside her at Dumbledore, but she shoved it down forcefully to somewhere near her toes. No use tromping all the way to Dumbledore's office to scream at him some more, not when she had the chance to talk to her twin.
"Cass?" Harry's voice punctured her thoughts.
"Sorry, I, um…" How could she tell him what she had Seen?
"Did you—did you See something?" Harry asked in a voice that said he knew the answer.
"Yes," Cass replied slowly, wincing when his expression turned downcast. "That man was ugly. Whew, did a vein pop in his head? I mean, yeesh." She said in as light a tone she could muster. Cass had a feeling sympathy would only make Harry feel worse.
Surprise flickered across his face, then relief. "No, but it's a miracle one didn't," Harry replied.
Cass breathed out gratefully. Quickly, she decided to change the topic. "You mentioned two people…Sirius and Remus? Were they really—er—dad's best friends?" The word "dad" felt strange on her tongue. Really strange. But not altogether unwelcome.
"Yeah, they were. There was this group, the Marauders, and them, my…our…dad, and—" Harry stopped suddenly, a look of anger flashing across his face. "—and Pettigrew. They were all best friends until…until Pettigrew betrayed my—er, our mum and dad. And me, too, I guess."
"What happened?" Cass asked.
Harry took a deep breath, but his voice still shook when he spoke. "You know that night on Halloween?" The night his—their parents got killed.
"Yes," Cass answered with trepidation.
"Well, we were in hiding. But Pettigrew betrayed us to Voldemort, then disguised himself as a rat for twelve years…the Weasley family's rat." Cass's eyes widened. "They didn't know, obviously. They just thought he was a regular rat. Sirius, my godfather, got framed for betraying us and went to Azkaban—that's the wizard prison, by the way. I found out the truth a couple years ago, when Sirius managed to escape. But he still hasn't gotten cleared, so he is in hiding."
"Sirius Black? The one the Ministry is blaming everything Voldemort is doing on?" Cass asked. Harry nodded, a glum expression on his face. "For the love of treacle tarts, Harry, why is your life story so complicated?"
He cracked a smile. "'For the love of treacle tarts?'" he echoed. "Why do you use food as a curse?"
"Better than using foul language," Cass replied sassily. She blushed and continued, "One time, I picked up some bad words from the telly and started saying them. I was only four, maybe five, but my grandma still made me wash my mouth out with soap. She said it was the same bar my grandpa used to wash himself, but I'm sure she was just saying that. Later, my grandpa told me that if I was going to swear, I might as well use something with value." Cass smiled at the memory. "I immediately said, 'food!' and I've been using it ever since." She laughed, "My grandma got onto him later, saying how he shouldn't have told me that I could swear at all."
Harry chuckled, all traces of anger at Pettigrew gone from his face. "I think it's funny. Also, you used treacle tarts. Why that one?"
"They're my favorite," Cass replied. Harry pressed his lips together in an amused way. "What?" Cass asked.
"They're my favorite, too," he said, grinning.
"Well, then I guess we're twinsies!" Cass said. They both looked at each other, then burst out laughing. That continued for a few minutes, a lot longer than the joke deserved. Cass supposed they were laughing at the sheer impossibility of the situation they found themselves in more than her joke, but she didn't care. Gradually, the laughter subsided into a silence that was loads less tense than before.
"You know, Harry, I hear a lot of strange stories about you," Cass said suddenly. Harry raised his eyebrows. "I mean, you seem to get into a lot a trouble."
"Just a bit," he replied dryly.
"Well, I'm sure what I hear and what actually happened are two different things. Tell me a story," Cass demanded. In truth, she just wanted to keep the conversation going. She didn't want it to lapse back into that uncomfortable silence.
Harry seemed to be on a similar train of thought. "Well, my first Halloween here I got into a fight with a troll…" He launched into a tale of mountain trolls, three-headed dogs, philosopher's stones, and way too many other things. By the end of it, Cass's eyes felt like they were popping out of her head, and her right eye had a nasty ache behind it (throughout the storytelling, she had experienced many visions, sometimes showing the exact scenes Harry was describing).
"You mean to tell me all that happened in one year? Just one?" Cass asked, incredulous. "Again, why is your life so complicated?"
Harry shook his head in exasperation. "I've been asking myself that question for four and a half years. But," he said, "this one takes the cake."
"Even after…even after Voldemort?" Cass asked.
"Yes," Harry replied without hesitation. Cass didn't know whether to be happy or sad about that. "It's also the best surprise so far," he said softly, shyly. Almost like he was trying something out. After a second, he nodded his head, apparently agreeing with himself.
Cass thought about that. Out of all the surprises in her life, she found that she agreed with Harry; this one was the biggest…and the best. Finding out she was a witch had been great, but there had always been a part of her that had known, however small that part had been. Out of nowhere, an idea came to her. Silently, she asked the room for a parchment and a pencil; a pencil still felt more natural in her hand than a quill. Realizing she had nowhere to draw, she also asked the room for a table. All three items appeared simultaneously, the pencil and parchment on top of the small wooden table. Ignoring the questioning look on Harry's face, Cass walked over the short table and sat down on the fuzzy rug.
"Uh, Cass?" Harry prodded, tilting his head to the side. Cass held up a pointer finger, signaling for him to wait a second. Concentrating, she tried to give herself a vision. Her eyes pricked and the cozy room abruptly morphed into another scene.
A man and woman were facing each other, each holding a baby between them. The man was laughing, and he was looking at the two bundles with joy—a lot of it. The woman had red hair, and a smile brighter than the sun was on her lips as she gazed fondly at the infants. Tiny, chubby fingers reached up from the blankets to touch her face, and a giggle bubbled out from one of the babies.
Cass came out of the vision with tears in her eyes, but she worked through them. Her hand flew across the parchment in a flurry of strokes. After a few minutes of sketching, a picture formed of a family, the mother and father holding two babies between them. The same sweet image from her vision.
"Cass? What're you doing?" Harry asked, coming over to kneel next to her. Cass heard his breath catch as he looked at her drawing. "Cass…it's beautiful," he choked out.
"Yeah, they are beautiful," Cass agreed, wishing with all her heart she had met them. "Harry, I know you don't remember them, but haven't people told you what they were like?"
Harry looked up. "Yeah, they have." He answered her next question without her having to ask. "Mum…mum was brilliant, they say. And strong." Cass recalled her standing up to Voldemort from one of her visions. "And dad, well, he was pretty brilliant, too, but he had a…different approach to life. Everyone tells me he was a wicked prankster—the forerunners of the Weasley twins, actually." Cass's heart thumped at the word "twin." And she had thought she was past the disbelieving stage. I don't think I'm ever going to get past that stage, she realized. Once again, it all came back to Dumbledore and his stupid decision to keep them in the dark. She stubbornly refused to admit, even to herself, that the earliest he could have told them was when he found out where she was, and even then, it would have been a shocker. No, she thought, it's all his fault.
"Cass…can I keep this?" he asked, gesturing to the paper.
"I made it for you, Harry," Cass replied obviously. Harry gave her a grateful look.
"Thank you very much," he said thickly.
"You're welcome very much," Cass replied, just as thickly. They shared a quiet moment, Harry simply admiring her drawing and Cass…well, the shock of it had hit her once again, so she just silently worked through it. Harry is my twin, Harry is my twin. That was something she had been repeating to herself a lot over the past…how many hours had it been? She glanced at her watch; only two and a half hours. She marveled at how fast her life had changed, and at how significantly. Only two and a half hours; she had watched films longer than that.
"Cass…who should we tell?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.
"Whoever the heck we want to," Cass replied fiercely.
Harry grinned. "Sounds great, but…I think we should listen to at least some of Dumbledore's," he spat the name out, "advice. Voldemort…I don't want him to find out. I really, really don't."
Cass opened her mouth in protest, about to say that she felt he was going to anyway, but then snapped it shut, thinking about it. She had only barely been registering the truth herself, and she realized she wouldn't be comfortable with everyone finding out. At least, not until she had absorbed it herself. "Okay," she agreed slowly. "Who do you trust enough to tell?"
Without hesitation, Harry said, "Ron and Hermione."
Cass nodded; she didn't need clairvoyance to know he was going to say that. Those three were tighter than a pod of peas. She thought about who she trusted enough to tell. Her friends—Brooke, Sarah, Bello, Janelle, Cyrene, Rose (and maybe Marcell)—immediately came to mind. But…she had only known them for a few months…but they were part of a secret club with her…but there were so many…but they were the closest friends she had ever had…she sat there, on the rug, debating in her head. It was a sharp pricking of her eyes that made her mind up for her.
"Guys, there is something I have to tell you…" a dark-haired girl said to a group of children. The vision shifted. People looked at a green-eyed girl with shock, and there was a sobbing blonde in the background, blubbering apologies.
Cass sighed sadly as she returned to the present. The blonde…it had been Brooke. If she told them, her friend would let it get out. Cass knew without a vision that Brooke wouldn't do it on purpose, but it still killed her to say, "I had—had a vision. If I tell Brooke, it'll get out."
Harry's face softened. "Cass—you said Voldemort would find out anyway…you can tell her, if you want," he said. Cass felt some pressure alleviate in her chest at his words. But…if she was being honest with herself…she…she didn't want her friends to know. Her telling them about her being a seer was different then her telling them about her being Harry Potter's twin. Cass, although she would never admit this to anyone else, was scared. She had found great friends, but she had seen the way they reacted to Harry, to the Boy Who Lived…she didn't want them to react that way to her. Maybe that made her a horrible friend. But she didn't want to lose the one thing in her life that was normal right now. She couldn't.
"No, I won't tell them," Cass said, guilt settling in her stomach like a large stone. She rolled her shoulders back and told herself that it wasn't like she was keeping a big secret about them. Just from them—and for good reason. If she told them, it would get out. And, despite what she told Dumbledore, she was not prepared for Voldemort at all. Even the mental image of him from the graveyard was enough to send shivers down her spine.
Harry gave her a long look, his eyes boring into hers, green on green. Finally, Cass couldn't take the silence any longer and said, "Well, how are we going to tell Hermione and Ron? Or, probably the better question, where are we going to tell them?"
"Not the common room, it's too public."
"Here?" Cass suggested.
"Sure…"
OoOoO
Cass blindly reached through the darkness for her green hoodie and jeans. The heavy breathing of her roommates filled the otherwise silent dormitory. Slowly, she grabbed her clothes and swung her legs out of bed. She kneeled down and grabbed her Reeboks, then made her way over to the bathroom. As quietly as she could, Cass opened the door and slid inside, flicking the lights on only after the door was closed once more.
She dressed fast, not even putting her hair up in her haste. Cass lifted her foot and rested it on the toilet, then began sliding her tennis shoes on. She turned the lights off before opening the door and moving through the room, snatching her wand off the nightstand as she went. Silently, she left the dormitory and padded down the stairs.
Hermione, Ron, and Harry were waiting for her in the common room. Both Hermione and Ron had extremely confused looks on their faces. Cass had a feeling knowing the truth wouldn't lessen their puzzled expressions, only deepen them. Harry's face held an anxious look on it, though what he was anxious about was a mystery to Cass. Ron and Hermione were his best friends; if anything, she should be worried. But she wasn't, not really. Only a little guilty that her own friends weren't gathered there, too.
The clock on the mantle showed it was a little past two in the morning, so they wouldn't get caught sneaking off. Hopefully. Cass was still a little uncertain about how Harry was going to tell if there were teachers nearby. You'll see, he had said. Cass had scoffed self-righteously, hoping his confidence didn't get them caught.
"What is this about?" Ron whispered. "And why is Cass here?"
"That's what we're going to tell you. Just…hang on…it can't be in here," Harry answered, taking out a piece of parchment from his pocket. Cass recognized it as the strange parchment from the D.A. meetings.
"What is that?" she asked, pointing to the parchment.
"It's a map of Hogwarts," Harry said, "that shows everyone in it, every second, every day."
"That's wicked," Cass said, already thinking of the implications. Even with her Third Eye, she was far from omniscient; that map would come in handy. "Did you make it? How did you enchant it?"
Harry pressed his lips together. "No, my dad did—him and his friends." His friends…Sirius, Remus, and the traitor Harry had told her about. Cass suddenly felt the need to touch the map, to feel something her father had made. Instead, she clenched her fists, which were hidden in the sleeves of her hoodie.
"Neat," was all she said.
Harry nodded his agreement. "Anyway, Ron, I'm going to sneak to the Room of Requirement with you, then I'll go back for Cass and Hermione."
"But why do we need to go to the Room of Requirement?" Ron questioned.
Hermione sighed. "The thing they've got to tell us can't be overheard," she said with an air of obviousness. Cass resisted the urge to add a "duh" to her statement.
"Right, then, let's go, Ron," Harry said. Cass wondered why they weren't just sneaking off together as a group. Perplexed, she watched Harry pull out a silvery bundle from his pocket. Her eyes grew wide as he slung it around himself and Ron, disappearing into the common room background.
"Where are they?" she asked Hermione, narrowing her eyes at the last spot she had seen them. The older girl looked amused.
"It's an Invisibility Cloak," she explained.
Cass's eyes bored into their last known location, searching for any sign they were there. She found none. "Brilliant," she breathed.
"'Bye! See you in a minute," Harry's voice came from near the portrait hole. Cass did a double take; she hadn't known him and Ron had moved.
The portrait door swung open, revealing a dark corridor behind it. After a few seconds, it closed again. Cass grinned; she was definitely going to be borrowing that from Harry.
Cass could tell Hermione was itching to know what was happening, but the fifth-year didn't say anything. Cass felt thankful for that; she didn't know what she would say if Hermione asked. Oh, yeah, it's not that big at all, really. Harry is actually my twin, no biggie! Hermione would take Cass to Madam Pomfrey for sure. As it was, she wasn't sure she and Harry together could convince them.
"So, how are things going with S.P.E.W.?" Cass asked.
Hermione brightened. "They're going well, thanks for asking. I thought about what you said, how the elves chose it for themselves. But I still think there should be stricter laws in place to make sure the house-elves aren't harmed, like Dobby had been." Hermione had told Cass about Dobby in the library. Cass had had to fight hard not to go tell Draco Malfoy off to his face, knowing full well that it would only result in her punishment.
Hermione suddenly opened her mouth, then closed it with a snap. She shook her head, seeming to struggle with herself. "Hermione?" Cass prodded gently, suspecting what this was about.
"Did you See something?" Hermione blurted.
"Yes…but—"
It was that moment that the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, seemingly of its own accord. Cass sighed in relief, marveling at Harry's good timing. Her eyes searched fruitlessly for an indication of where he was. Her gaze fell on the patterned rug and she gave a small smile of victory. There was a slight indent on the carpet in the shape of a shoe. Cass moved over to the pressed-in part of the rug and reached her hand out. A silky, flowy texture greeted her, and a sharp tug revealed Harry.
"Impressive," he remarked. Hermione walked over to stand next to Cass.
"Eh, not really. Just a good eye," Cass said. In truth, she felt proud of herself for spotting the giveaway.
The silvery fabric descended upon the three Gryffindors. Cass ran her hands over it. "This is so wicked," she whispered. Hermione shushed her, as they were out of the tower now, but Harry grinned in agreement. Or maybe it was a nervous grin—nervous about his friends' reactions. She hated that she couldn't tell. She should be able to read the emotions of her own brother—her twin brother.
Cass, Harry, and Hermione made their way through the quiet hallways, ears straining for sound—except for Harry's. He was simply looking at the map from time to time. Idly, Cass wondered how many other people in the castle were awake. There had to be one person beside themselves; a place as big as Hogwarts was never fully asleep.
After a few minutes, they arrived at the painting of Barnabus the Barmy and his little entourage of troll-ballerinas. Bonkers, Cass thought towards the picture.
The Room of Requirement had changed slightly since that afternoon. It had doubled in size (fitting since it had doubled in occupants) and there were now four armchairs instead of two. Nervously, Cass sat in one of them, opposite to Harry and next to Ron. She picked at the arms of the chair absentmindedly.
"Okay, here goes…" Harry began, his voice dry. Hastily, he cleared his throat. "Dumbledore kept a secret from us—Snape and McGonagall, too. Cass found out this afternoon…she had a vision, of course. I had no idea what was going on, but Snape led us—Cass and I—we went to Dumbledore's office…you're not going to believe me, it is completely mental…I'm still trying to come to terms with it myself…I—"
"Harry!" Cass interrupted, irritated. "You're blubbering. Oh, screw explanations!" she said huffily. Taking a deep breath, she said, "Harry and I are twins!"
OoOoO
