DISCLAIMER: Take away all my hard work for this story and you have all JKR's hard work. Take away all the money I make off this story, you get a happy person that didn't make any money off it in the first place. Take away all the money JKR makes off her story, you get a very unhappy woman who just lost the source of most of her income. See what I'm saying?

A/N: Helloooo! And…guess what? Over 10,000 hits! *screaming in gibberish* Thanks, guys! Enjoy!

OoOoO

Sirius Black was sick and tired of Grimmauld Place. However selfish it made him, he desperately wished for something—anything—to happen. To his horror, Sirius was starting to look forward to cleaning Buckbeak's dung, just for the simple fact that it was something to do. Even leading Kreacher on a wild goose chase around the house had lost its appeal—and now Kreacher guarded "his" possessions (technically, they were Sirius's, but he would never want anything that belonged to his parents) with a vengeance. Sirius didn't even care he had lost good pranking opportunity. Oh, how the mighty have fallen, he remarked to himself bitterly.

Remus came over often enough, and the rest of the Order visited, too, but Sirius rarely paid attention in the meetings. In a stubborn—and, admittedly, childish—streak, Sirius instead glared at Snivellus the entirety of every meeting. When he wasn't arguing with Molly, of course. And asking everyone about Harry. Harry—that seemed to be what kept him occupied when Sirius was alone. Worrying over his godson. Missing his godson. And missing his godson's parents.

Dumbledore's message that there would be an important Order meeting that Saturday night got Sirius shamefully excited. Maybe it had something to do with Snape's assured absence from the upcoming meeting. Look at you, Padfoot. Getting excited over a meeting with the headmaster. What a fall from grace, mate.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his hold on the firewhiskey bottle in his hand. That had been James's voice. Dead, Black, he is bloody dead. Has been for over a decade. Get over yourself. Sirius lifted the bottle to his lips. In the absence of worrying over escaping from Azkaban, of finding the traitor, and of being on the run, he had too much time to think. And that was dangerous. Especially when you're alone in a dark house with only a vermin house-elf for company.

The Order meeting was top-secret—even more so than usual. Only a select few were invited—namely, Molly, Arthur, Remus, Moody, Tonks and himself. Curiosity sparked in Sirius; only that many? What the hell was this meeting about? He couldn't help but feel a tiny drop of pleasure of being part of something important; he rarely felt important, locked up as he was. Though that pleasure dissipated into a small sea of worry soon enough. What was bad enough for Dumbledore to only confide in six people about?

His interest went skyrocketing when Dumbledore arrived, solemn-faced, eyes dull, mouth twisted into a look of shame. The mood of the room plummeted. Molly and Arthur exchanged worried glances, Tonks stilled, Remus scratched the back of his neck, and Moody's magical eye spun wildly in its socket, likely searching for danger. Sirius swallowed dryly, taking back his wish for action.

Dumbledore trained his eyes on the floor and cast several long, complicated charms. Near as Sirius could figure, they were spells to prevent all manners of eavesdropping, scrying, trespassing, and loads of other things Sirius couldn't begin to understand. He looked towards Remus, certain his friend would recognize the advanced spellwork, but Remus just shook his head and shrugged.

"I have something very important to tell you all," Dumbledore said quietly, sitting in a torn armchair. Everyone made their way over to a seat, Tonks tripping over her feet as she walked over to the moldy couch.

"We kind of deduced that, Albus," Sirius murmured.

Dumbledore gave a small, hoarse chuckle and straightened. He seemed to find resolve somewhere in himself, and a small twinkle appeared in his blue eyes. "Yes, well, I fear I may have worried you. Nothing bad has happened, and nothing bad will happen any time soon—not that I know of, anyway. I am more ashamed of myself than anything else, and adding to that shame is my fear for your reactions to what I am about to say."

"Albus, you have nothing to worry about. We stand with you," Remus said kindly. The others offered their agreement, and Sirius nodded his head, if a little belatedly. That was just like Remus, saying things to comfort people without knowing if they deserved comfort. Albus Dumbledore was many things, but ashamed was usually not one of them, and the fact that it was now spoke volumes.

"Thank you all. I only ask you to keep an open mind while I explain myself…it involves Harry, and James and Lily."

Sirius gave a start. James and Lily? Harry, Sirius could understand, as much as it pained him, that his godson was so involved in this war. But James and Lily? What in Merlin's name…?

"Sirius, Remus, do you remember James's and Lily's pregnancy? Indulge me," Dumbledore added pleadingly at their bewildered expressions.

"I—yes? Yes, of course," Remus replied. Sirius quirked an eyebrow at his friend; had Albus finally lost it? The man had always been odd, even in their school days, but…why the hell were they talking about his long-dead friends' pregnancy?

"There was one detail they only disclosed to you, me, and maybe two others. Do you remember it?" Dumbledore asked.

Sirius scratched his head. For the headmaster's sake, he searched his mind instead of demanding to know what this was about. Quite easily, a memory surfaced in his thoughts.

"Padfoot, we're having twins!" James exclaimed excitedly. Sirius embraced his friend, grinning from ear to ear. Two godchildren!

"Dumbledore wants us to keep it under wraps. It's dangerous enough to have one child during these times…"

For a second, Sirius thought this might be what Dumbledore was talking about. But, no, it couldn't be. To everyone's sadness, one of the babies had miscarried. Sirius knew that had been hard on James and Lily and he had done his best to help with Harry while they grieved.

"I can only think of one thing, Albus. Surely you aren't talking about the twins—?" Remus started, but was cut off by Dumbledore.

"That is exactly what I'm talking about, Remus," Dumbledore interrupted with complete seriousness.

"Wh-what?" Sirius asked. "Dumbledore, you realize they miscarried, right?" Why was he bringing this up? Of all the useless avenues to go down, he chose the years-old tragedy that had left James and Lily heartbroken and changed for the rest of their short lives.

Molly gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "I never knew that," she said sadly. Tonks had a quizzical look on her face and exchanged puzzled looks with Moody.

Remus gave Dumbledore a penetrating gaze, his tired eyes scanning the old man's wrinkled face. "Continue," he said slowly. Sirius scoffed; were they really going to go on with this conversation? In the back of his mind, a voice whispered for him to listen to Dumbledore. Instead, Sirius gave his werewolf friend an incredulous look.

"I am going to tell you all a story, but I have to beg you to let me explain before you jump down my throat," Dumbledore said. Sirius felt his stomach twist into knots, and he was pretty damn sure it had nothing to do with the firewhiskey from earlier. "James and Lily never miscarried. Harry has a twin sister."

Several voices spoke up all at once as everyone except Sirius and Remus leapt to their feet.

"Blimey, he's gone mad," Tonks said.

"Albus, has anyone slipped you anything? Could you be suffering from the effects of an Insanity Draught?" Moody demanded.

"Headmaster, you can't be serious," Arthur said. He, at least, seemed to put a little belief into Dumbledore's words. A little.

"Albus, I think you've had a long day. I can fix you some stew, and I'm sure Madam Pomfrey has something for exhaustion," Molly fretted, looking extremely uncomfortable. No doubt it was unsettling to see her leader spout such ridiculous claims.

Remus looked as though someone had bonked him on the head with a heavy hammer. His eyes had glazed over and gained a curious gleam. "The girl. From the train platform. The one who looked so much like Lily it hurt," he said, shooting Dumbledore a questioning look.

"Yes, yes, that girl. Her name is Cassandra McGarther," Dumbledore said gently.

Sirius shook his head furiously. "We're not idiots, Dumbledore! That girl looked like a third-year at the very highest, and that's stretching it. It doesn't make any bloody sense for her to be Harry's—Harry's twin," Sirius pointed out hotly. Calm down, Black. This is Dumbledore, he has an explanation for everything. Sirius wouldn't admit this, but he didn't want to have an explanation from Dumbledore. Because his words had struck some chord in him that rang truth, and Sirius didn't want it to be true. He could barely take care of Harry, how could he handle two? Sirius realized he was being ridiculous, just as mad as Dumbledore. Of course he wouldn't have responsibility for two. Because, of course, there weren't two. He couldn't quite stop the kernel of excitement that blossomed in his chest, though, no matter how little sense everything made.

"Start explaining, Albus," Moody growled. Molly gasped at the disrespect. Sirius didn't care; he wanted an explanation. Now.

"You must listen to me, please…" Dumbledore began telling the story of the Potters. Of the two prophecies. Of the two babies. Of the time-travel. Sirius sat back down on the couch gingerly, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore. Was this real? Had his loneliness driven him mad? Sirius thought it was pathetic of him to get this out of sorts over a bit of alone time…or was he out of sorts?

"You can't bloody do this to me!" Sirius yelled as Dumbledore finished. "You can't leave me cooped up, deny me outside privilege, leave me alone, and then spring this shit on me! You've bloody lost it, Dumbledore. Really? Really?"

"Padfoot, please," Remus said quietly.

"What?" Sirius snapped.

"It makes sense," the werewolf murmured consolingly. "Think about it. James and Lily were never quite the same after the miscarriage, and now we know why: their child didn't die peacefully, she was taken away." Dumbledore made a horribly tortured sound deep in his throat. "Albus, even if it wasn't intentional, it's what happened. Sirius, they had no closure. They didn't know where she—where, er, Cassandra was, if she was safe, nothing. That seems worse, and James and Lily looked worse than they ever had before."

Sirius's heart seemed to skip several beats at his friend's words. His stomach dropped, as though he had missed a step going down the stairs. His throat constricted painfully, and he gulped in a shuddering breath. He bowed his shoulders and rested his elbows on his thighs with his head in his hands. "Is it true?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered gently.

Molly started breathing in and out very quickly, Arthur was trying to comfort her—it looked like he was doing it to distract himself—Tonks sat in her chair, agape, Moody had a look of intense contemplation on his scarred face, and Remus…Remus's expression made Sirius sit up and stare.

His friend's eyebrows were slanted downwards in anger, his tired eyes were hard, his fists were clenched, and his mouth was twisted into a snarl. Sirius had never seen Remus like this—not ever. If he hadn't been friends with the werewolf, he may have even been scared.

"You mean to tell me you knew who Cassandra was, you knew Harry had a twin, you knew—you bloody knew, and you didn't tell us?!" Remus hollered. Sirius hadn't been thinking, else he would have put that together. Rage boiled up inside him, slightly halted with shock as Remus lunged toward Dumbledore. Quick as a flash, Moody and Arthur were holding him back.

Which meant no one was stopping Sirius.

Sirius leapt to his feet, strode a meter or two over to Dumbledore, and punched him in the nose, all in four seconds flat. Only when blood started to gush out of the headmaster's nose did Sirius realize what he had done. He didn't regret it though; it had felt damn good.

Remus had calmed down and was now looking at Sirius with appreciation. Sirius grinned at his friend, but then it slipped. "Merlin's bloody pants, James and Lily have a daughter," he said numbly.

Molly gave Sirius a sympathetic look as she passed him to hand Dumbledore a handkerchief, and even she gave it to the headmaster stiffly. Tonks had moved to sit next to Remus and was tentatively giving his shoulder a pat. Despite himself, the corners of Sirius's lips tugged upwards. He wasn't blind; his cousin fancied his friend. He wished his friend would just let it happen. That train of thought was only a brief respite from the disbelief flooding him, though. This Cassandra…dear God, she was Harry's twin. And, according to Dumbledore, she was four years younger him. Sirius was starting to get a headache, and it sure as hell wasn't from the firewhiskey.

"Let me meet her. Now," Sirius demanded.

Dumbledore began, "I can't pull a child out of school—"

"Magic be damned, Dumbledore, let me see her. Right. Bloody. Now!"

"If she says yes, she will be over for Christmas," Dumbledore said firmly.

Sirius muttered a string of colorful curses at the headmaster. "Dumbledore, I've followed you through loads of crap, but this…this is inexcusable. You knew about Cassandra, you knew, and you never told us? Never even let on…why? We deserve to know!"

"Now, Sirius, I'm sure Albus had a good reason—" Arthur began unsurely.

"I agree with Sirius. I haven't been around as long as everyone else, but to be kept so out of the loop…it's very frustrating, Professor Dumbledore. And I didn't even know James and Lily personally," Tonks interrupted.

"Bloody fools, he kept it to himself to keep it away from snooping ears," Moody growled.

Dumbledore, if only very slightly, winced at this. "Dumbledore?" Remus questioned.

"You aren't the only ones who know, though the others are under oath not to tell anyone—that I made sure of, as I'm sure Alastor will be pleased to hear," said Dumbledore.

Sirius's blood boiled in his ears. So, Dumbledore thought it appropriate to tell people other than James' and Lily's best friends, did he? His respect for the old man was deteriorating by the second. At the same time, his need to meet Cassandra grew rapidly.

"Who else knows, Albus?" Molly asked. Was Sirius imagining the hurt in her voice? He recalled her friendship with Lily from the First Wizarding War. Had Lily survived, the two might have very well been the best of friends by now.

"Minerva and Severus are the only other ones," said Dumbledore slowly. His blue eyes wandered around the room, gauging everyone's reactions.

"Snivellus. Knew," Sirius said through gritted teeth. The bloody git, who had mutually hated James, had known before himself, who had been James's near-brother. Unconsciously, Sirius tightened his grip on his wand, but refrained from uttering a curse. Still, a thin trail of fire flowed out of its end in response to his fury.

Remus had a look of extreme hurt and betrayal on his face. Seeing made Sirius even angrier. His friend—never mind himself—didn't deserve this. Certainly not after a mere two days after the full moon. Sirius opened his mouth, prepared to scream nasty profanities at Dumbledore, but was stopped by the old man holding up a lined hand.

"Sirius, you must understand. I didn't know where Cassandra was—or, more appropriately, I didn't know when she was. I didn't even know if whoever found her—which, you'll be pleased to hear, was a very kind elderly couple—if they would decide to call her Cassandra, as Lily and James named her. It was crucial to have some of my staff know so that when she came to Hogwarts, they would recognize her."

"You didn't know where—or when—she was?" Remus clarified. Dumbledore nodded his white head. "I still don't understand how travelling forward in time is even possible."

"It wasn't supposed to be. I found the answer in an ancient Sumerian tablet, and it is a spell that can only be used once a millennium," Dumbledore explained.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Sirius. In a controlled voice, he said, "Harry and Cassandra know, right? You certainly didn't keep this from them, didn't you?"

"Of course they know," Dumbledore said, though something in his eyes conveyed guilt.

"When did you tell them?" Remus prodded.

"Yesterday," Dumbledore answered in a resigned voice.

"So not only did you keep it from us, which was horrible enough, but you kept it from them. I hope you're bloody proud, Dumbledore," Sirius cut at the headmaster.

Dumbledore turned his head sharply at Sirius. "Sirius, I understand you're angry with me, but I did what I thought was best. I have never put them in any harm, and I have always had the intent to tell them. I prolonged telling them with good reason, and you'll have to trust me on that."

Sirius harrumphed and turned cast his eyes towards the ground. Watery lines blurred his vision, and even as he stared at the carpet he didn't take in the patterned rug. He had a goddaughter. Or, maybe Cassandra wasn't legally his goddaughter. The fact that he didn't know made the situation worse. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced them to dry. He could be strong; Merlin only knows what Harry was going through right now. And Casandra—he had to add Cassandra now.

"You said she's coming over for Christmas, Albus? I'll have to make her a sweater. Do you know what she likes?" Molly asked, breaking the silence that had stretched for a few minutes.

In that moment, Sirius forgot about all the arguments he'd had with the woman and just felt intense gratitude that she was willing to make Cassandra a sweater.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled brightly for the first time that night. "Well, there is something about her I haven't told you…"

OoOoO

Monday was hectic. All of the first-years wanted to know what happened in Potions. Cass denied all rumors, some of which were quite ridiculous. They ranged from Cass Seeing Hogwarts attacked by flying monkeys to her Seeing the end of the world. Several times, Cass told people they should take up creative writing, which was met with loud sniggers from Brooke.

"It's really very rude of you to keep us in the dark," one Ravenclaw boy told her.

"It's really none of your business," Cass promptly replied.

"Good-bye!" Brooke added cheerily, looping her arm through Cass's and striding away.

Umbridge, may she rot in a swamp like the toad she is, gave Cass an especially hard time in next day's Tuesday DADA class.

"Miss McGarther, may I speak to you at my desk?" came the saccharine voice just as everyone was filing out of the class. Cass sighed heavily, rolled her shoulders back in preparation for the unnecessary scolding she was about to get, and walked up to Umbridge's desk.

"Yes, ma'am?" Cass asked earnestly, going for innocent and eager to please.

"I was just curious as to why you left during Professor Snape's class last Friday?" Umbridge asked in a sugary voice.

"Oh…right, well, it was for personal reasons that have, um, already been discussed with Professor Snape," Cass said in as smooth a voice she could manage.

"I see. As Hogwarts High Inquisitor, I am here to oversee the punishment of every student, and as a clear violation of Educational Degree Number Twenty-Six, I give you a day's detention with Mr. Filch."

"But—" Cass protested before cutting herself off. She had been about to tell Umbridge to go shove it, but it didn't take a Third Eye to see that going horribly wrong. Instead, she tried for a different approach. "Ma'am, really, I have learned my lesson…I just…I'm sorry, I-I-I just h-h-have a hard time with all—all the rumors about You-Know-Who, and it's so scary, and why do people say it? Why? I h-h-have a M-M-Muggle mum, and I d-d-don't think it's f-f-funny to go around telling p-p-people h-he's back," Cass blubbered, pinching herself hard on the thigh to bring tears to her eyes.

Immediately, Umbridge's demeanor changed. She went from a falsely sweet smile to a very genuine grin in two seconds flat. "I understand your concern, Miss McGarther, and wholeheartedly agree with you. Can you tell me who has been saying these things?"

Cass panicked for a second; she couldn't very well say the obvious answer: Harry Potter. "Um, I-I d-d-don't know if I should s-say. I don't w-want them t-to b-bully me."

"It's alright, you can tell me," Umbridge said in what was obviously meant to be comforting but really sounded quite scary.

"Sasha Ricardo," Cass whispered. For a second, she almost felt bad for the Slytherin. Then she remembered that Princess had tripped Bello, and that sympathy vanished at once.

Umbridge's face fell. Cass was positive she had been wanting her to say Harry was the one telling people that. Harry…nope, not diving into that emotional mess right now.

"Well, I will certainly look into the matter, Miss McGarther, do not worry. In the meantime, please come to me if you have any problems with those malicious rumors. I warn you to not leave class again, but I can excuse it if Professor Snape has already arranged something," the toad said, in a voice that suggested she wanted Cass to feel comfortable—probably so Cass would say Harry was the one who did it. Fat chance I'll ever tell on Harry—or go to Umbridge for anything.

Cass nodded her head, forced a smile, and left the room. As expected, Brooke and Sarah were outside waiting for her.

"Well, how bad was it?" Brooke asked urgently.

"Not that bad, actually. Professor Umbridge was really very kind to me," Cass said, fully aware they were mere meters from the door, within hearing distance. Brooke looked at Cass as though she had sprouted antlers, but Sarah seemed to get what Cass was doing.

"Of course she was. Come on, let's walk around the lake," she said. Brooke opened her mouth in protest, but Cass silenced her with a look that said, "Use your brain! Umbridge is right behind us!"

Brooke rolled her eyes, muttered something about paranoia, and then followed Sarah and Cass out the front doors.

"Really, was that necessary?" Brooke asked Cass exasperatedly.

"Yes, Brooke, it was. The toad was right behind us," Cass replied.

"So, tell us what happened!" Sarah said to Cass.

"Well, she was going to give me detention with Filch, but I told her some rubbish story about me being scared of all the Voldemort rumors and she bought it," Cass explained.

"Wait, actually?" Brooke asked incredulously. Cass nodded. Brooke guffawed, "That's brilliant!"

"Er, thanks. I sort of pinned it on Sasha, too. Told her that she had been the one spreading them," Cass continued.

This sent Brooke into even louder giggles and earned Cass a grin from Sarah.

"That's diabolical, Cass," the Slytherin girl told her. "I think Marcell's right: you should be in Slytherin."

Brooke made a face, which made Cass roll her eyes. The three made their way around the lake in what Brooke called "First-year Fitness Fun Walk." Cass thought the name was ridiculous, but she didn't say anything.

"Tonight is the last D.A. meeting of this semester, I wonder what Harry's gonna teach," Sarah wondered aloud as they walked back up to the front doors. The sun was now setting, casting long shadows on the grounds of Hogwarts.

"I dunno, but I think we should do something fun," Brooke said, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Alright, like what?" Cass asked.

"Um…decorate the dummies?" Brooke suggested, shrugging.

"Gee, what fun," Sarah said dryly. "Oh, yes, Mr. Dummy, would you like a red or green flower crown?"

"Well, it was just an idea, no need to get all smart with me," Brooke defended herself.

Cass's eyes pricked in their special little way, and then, quite suddenly, she was in the Room of Requirement.

A girl with long, black hair stood close to a messy-haired boy with glasses. She was crying; small tears tumbled down her flushed cheeks. The two leaned in to each other, foreheads touching, and…

Cass came back to the present with a surprised little laugh. "Oh. My. Macaroni," she giggled. Harry was going to kiss that sixth-year girl, Cho Chang, tonight! She felt mingled emotions of hilarity and astonishment. Harry was going to kiss Chang. She felt an odd sense of wrongness with it but decided she wouldn't tell Harry it was going to happen; she might very well ruin it.

"What? What did you See?" Brooke demanded.

"Oh, erm…" Cass didn't want to tell them about Harry and Chang for privacy reasons (never mind the fact that she knew about them). "The Room of Requirement is already decorated, I Saw it." She had; mistletoe had been growing out of the ceiling in her vision."

"Aww, that means we didn't get to do it," Brooke said.

"Shame," Cass deadpanned softly. Luckily, Brooke didn't seem to catch it.

An hour or two later, Cass, Brooke, Sarah, Bello, Rose, and Marcell snuck into the Room of Requirement and waited for everyone else to arrive. Harry flashed Cass a grin from across the room, which Cass promptly returned. Every time she saw him, it still sent shock waves down her spine, but she told herself to get over it and get to know him instead of succumbing to the disbelief at having a twin four years older than her. To Cass's frustration, it was easier thought than done.

"Right, so I thought we'd go over all we've done so far, because it's the last meeting before a three-week break, so there's really no point in starting anything new—"

"We're not learning anything new?" said the fifth-year Hufflepuff, Zacharius Smith. Cass and Rose shared annoyed looks. Smith couldn't go five minutes without some sort of complaint. "If I'd known, I wouldn't have bothered coming…"

In a rare moment where Cass appreciated the Weasley twins, Fred said, "Shame Harry didn't tell you, then." Cass and her friends sniggered, as did several other people.

"We can practice in pairs," said Harry, "and work our way through all the spells, starting with the Impediment Jinx."

Everyone split into pairs and started to shout, "Impedimenta!" Cass was paired up with Brooke, who was quite good with the Impediment Curse. Cass was frozen, unable to move, three times before she finally hit Brooke with her own jinx. Hers wasn't nearly as powerful as Brooke's, but she hit her friend square in the chest, so she was frozen longer.

After practicing Impedimenta for about ten minutes, Harry had everyone practice Stunning. This was a real challenge for all the first-years, as it required a stronger magical core. By the end of that exercise, only Cass, Cyrene, and Marcell had cast it, and even they didn't have full mastery.

At the very end of the meeting, everyone sat down and practiced wandless magic. In the last few months, there hadn't been much progress. Hermione had Summoned several cushions, Harry had managed to levitate Bello (a great feat, especially since Bello was quite heavy to levitate), and a couple other people had done some minor charms. Cass had only been able to cast anything two times, which frustrated her to absolutely no end. Cyrene had transfigured something—well, she halfway transfigured a match into a needle. So, Cass didn't have many expectations for this meeting.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" she cast. The feather in front of her didn't move one centimeter. Cass tried a different charm. "Incendio!" A thin wisp of smoke trailed up from the feather. Encouraged, Cass tried in a louder voice, "Incendio!"

A column of hot flame erupted on the spot where the feather used to be. "Eek!" Cass shrieked, scrambling backwards. Water, I need water! She thought desperately. Directly above the powerful inferno, a water pipe opened and rained water down on the flame, dousing it. Steam hissed in the air as water met fire, and when it cleared only a blackened shape melted on the ground remained of the feather.

Everyone was staring at Cass with surprise. Cass felt a triumphant grin spread across her face. She had done it!

"Great job, Cass!" Harry called, smiling at her. It could have been her imagination, but she thought she saw a hint of pride in his face.

Other people congratulated her, too, and Cass felt extremely proud of herself.

"Cass, brilliant job, but why did you use the Fire-Making Charm, of all things?" Marcell asked. He looked a little bitter; he hadn't been able to do much in the wandless magic department.

"Honestly, I didn't expect it to work," Cass replied sheepishly.

"You're a seer!" Marcell argued.

"I'm not omniscient!" Cass said indignantly, lifting her chin.

"Try again, Cass. I am curious to see your exact movements, to analyze every variable," Cyrene said. Cass nodded and chose a less dangerous charm to cast, even if she hating Marcell thinking he had been right.

"Wingardium leviosa!"

The new feather lifted slightly—maybe two or three decimeters—then flopped back to the ground in a very defeated manner. "Darn," Cass said. She tried again. The feather floated about half a meter, then drifted back down to the ground. On the third try—and with loads and loads of concentration on Cass's part—the feather didn't even lift one bit.

"I guess it just takes practice," Bello said comfortingly.

"Or you could just be doing it wrong," Brooke said. Cass shot her a scathing look.

"I wonder why it works sporadically…could it have something to do with the magical energy in the room…or perhaps the volume of the caster's voice…?" Cyrene was muttering to herself, something she did quite frequently when faced with a puzzle.

"Well, everyone, we've got five minutes until we need to be in bed, so let's start to wrap everything up…" Harry announced.

Cass picked herself off her cushion and tucked her silver wand into her pocket. I'll get it eventually, she thought to herself.

As everyone left the Room of Requirement, Cass caught Harry's eyes and wiggled her eyebrows. He shot her a confused look, but she just gave a pointed look to Cho Chang and marched out, leaving a very puzzled Harry behind.

The disbelief that Harry was her twin was still there, but Cass felt herself growing comfortable around him.

Things would turn out just fine.

OoOoO