DISCLAIMER: You all know the drill. Harry Potter isn't mine. The world isn't mine. The plot—hey! That's mine! Yay!

A/N: Helloooooo! We're almost at 200 followers! Thank you all so much! Sorry for the long update periods. I'm extremely busy, not that that's an excuse. Trust me, I'm just as upset about it as you all are. I really wanted to complete NaNoWriMo this year. Ah, well. There's always next year.

Review (if you want) and enjoy!

Also, and I'm going to reiterate this, we're almost at 200 followers! :)

OoOoO

Cass peered at the crowd, her sharp green eyes scanning every face for her grandparents. Beside her a shaggy black dog sat, its tail wagging with excited anticipation. Muggles streamed in front of them, unaware that a magical platform existed right off to the left of Cass. Mrs. Weasley and Tonks stood behind her, with the paranoid Mad-Eye invisible next to them, and finally Harry, who stood on her other side. Anxiously, he rubbed his hands against his thighs, clearly nervous about meeting Cass's grandparents. Or maybe he was excited. It frustrated Cass that she couldn't tell.

"Harry, calm down. You'll rub a hole through your pants," said Cass, tearing her gaze away from the crowd to look at her brother, a smile tugging at her lips. Her brother—how were her grandparents react to that? Cass felt lucky they had a few days until Christmas so they could digest the startling information nice and properly. Then again, it might take more than a few days to fully sink in. Cass still wasn't completely sure it had sunken in for her.

"I won't," said Harry, but nonetheless he quit fidgeting. Almost. "It's just a bit nerve-wracking to meet you long-lost sister's grandparents." He lowered his voice so only Sirius and Cass could hear.

"Please," said Cass. "I have to come to terms with the fact that my"—she decreased her volume to a whisper—"brother is Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, and he has a nutter after his head."

Sirius barked a laugh at her words. Smiling, Cass scratched him behind his ears.

"You beat me," said Harry, his lips quirking. "Wait—is that them?"

"No, I have no idea who they are."

"Oh."

Cass felt her heartstrings plucked by the disappointed note in Harry's voice. In a way she couldn't put into words, knowing her—her brother looked forward to meeting her grandparents filled her with joy.

"Cass dear, maybe we should go into the magical platform?" suggested Mrs. Weasley. "They might be—"

Cass's eyes pricked, and two seconds later she exclaimed, "They're here! By Platform 7!"

Whipping her head around to see what her vision had already shown her, Cass spotted her grandparents emerge from the parking lot onto the seventh platform. Heedless of Moody hissing, "Girl, don't rush off into unfamiliar territory!" (honestly, didn't he know she could See the future and therefore almost nothing was unfamiliar to her), Cass sprinted towards her grandparents at top speed, a brilliant smile on her face. Weaving nimbly through the crowd, ignoring the shouts of protest, she skidded to a halt in front of her grandparents so as to not bowl them over.

"Grandma! Grandpa!" Cass exclaimed, embracing her grandparents. Surprised at her sudden appearance, they took a moment to hug back before sighing with contentment and wrapping their arms around her.

"Cass! Heavens, you're supposed to still be on the train!" said her grandmother. "And where is your luggage? Sweetie?"

Cass felt wetness on her cheeks and realized she was crying. Like a baby, she was crying. Stop that, she commanded her tears to no avail. What was wrong with her? Had someone cast a spell? Why was she crying like a little kid?

"Hey, kiddo, what's wrong?" said Grandpa Jimmy, using a wrinkled finger to lift Cass's chin. "Oh, no. Joyce, I think she's failed Charmsfiguration, or that Alchemy class . . ."

Cass had to laugh at that.

"I'm sorry, it's just . . . a lot has happened," she explained. "And I missed you guys. A lot." And I can't even fully process what's happened, she added silently. Breathing in deeply and cursing her stupid tears, Cass collected herself.

"How much can happen in four months?" wondered Grandma Joyce, kissing Cass on the cheeks. Cass smiled at her, taking in her aged face. It hadn't changed much, that sweet face, and right now it could have been the face of an angel.

A thoughtful moment of silence, and then, "I suppose a lot can." Cass's grandfather's voice held complete seriousness, and without a word or obvious hint, Cass knew he was referring to his . . . sickness. I haven't thought about that in a long time, thought Cass to herself. What kind of granddaughter was she? Her grandpa didn't deserve that kind of forgetfulness, and Cass felt guilty she hadn't spent more time at the library looking for a cure. In between browsing through genealogies, she had researched a magical cure for mundane sickness. Finding out Harry Potter was her bloody twin was no excuse; she would have to work extra hard next semester to help her grandpa.

Her reverie was broken by her grandmother's low, slightly fearful voice. "Cass, do you know those people?"

Harry, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, and Sirius were waiting a little ways off, looking out of place not only by their wizardliness but more dominantly by their obvious awkwardness.

"Grandma, Grandpa, something has happened," edged Cass, uncomfortably aware that they were in the middle of a crowded train station. It seemed a terrible place to tell the people who raised her that she had a twin brother four years her senior.

"Is it bad?" asked her grandma, apparently concluding that if Cass wasn't scared of the odd group, she shouldn't be either. Still, her grandmother looked wary.

"No," answered Cass with complete certainty. Then, turning to Harry, she gestured exasperatedly to him to come. Honestly, her grandparents weren't that scary (well, Grandma Joyce could be quite terrifying sometimes, but that was only when Cass did something she shouldn't have, which was only once or twice a week. Or three times).

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. McGarther," greeted Harry politely. Padfoot was giving Cass's grandparents a humanlike expression of gratitude and appraise.

"Young man, who are you?" demanded Grandpa McGarther, peering at Harry.

"That's where the complicated part begins," muttered Cass. In a louder voice, she said, "I found out who my biological parents are—were." Cass tried not to cringe at her mistake, but she couldn't help the flash of sadness that flitted across her features.

"Were?" repeated Grandma Joyce. "Oh, honey . . . I'm so sorry." She smoothed Cass's curls back from her face.

"Us too," said Harry, his right hand placed on Padfoot's head, as though he could draw comfort from Padfoot's fur alone.

"Us?" spluttered Grandpa Jimmy, his eyes comically going wide.

Cass zeroed in a few seconds in the future, shoving away her surprise at her own power, and determined there was no one around to overhear them. At least, she didn't think there was. To be safe, she kept her voice as low as possible yet still audible for her grandparents, both who didn't have the best hearing.

"I can't explain it all now, but Harry is my brother." Twin, she corrected herself mentally, but she dared not say that aloud. Her having a brother would come as shock enough.

Cass's grandparents' reactions were much the same as everyone else's. Filled with astonishment, their eyes darted back and forth between Harry and Cass; she could practically see the comparisons being made in their heads. Tonks and Mrs. Weasley kindly kept their eyes on the crowd, pretending to ignore the shock of her grandparents. Cass couldn't see Moody, but she reckoned he was probably glaring at her for talking about the secret in a public place.

After silence had stretched for an uncomfortably long time, the oblivious Muggles gushing by on the platform, Grandpa Jimmy cracked a chuckle. "Four months in the wizarding world and you come back with a brother. I have to say, I wasn't expecting that. Maybe a witch's broom, or a toad for a pet, but not this."

"Good Lord!" admonished Cass's grandma to her grandpa. "Cass comes back with a brother and that's your reaction? Harry, is it? Come here, let me take a look at you."

Pressing her lips together to keep from smiling, Cass watched as her grandmother peered appraisingly at Harry. The sight gave her an extreme sense of unreality. Her two worlds, kept separated in her head until now, were blending together, seen through her unblinking eyes. Her unbelieving eyes. Eyes that saw so much yet could not comprehend her twin brother that was four years older than her talking to her grandparents that weren't even her grandparents. Life was strange.

Blinking, Cass dispelled those feelings and looked back at her grandpa.

"Your grandmother sure has a way of pointing out all the flaws in a person," he said, restrained laughter in his voice.

The two of them paused and listened as Grandma Joyce said, "Well, I certainly know who got all the good genes."

Poor Harry, thought Cass without much sympathy. Grandma Joyce was like that—sweet as chocolate when she wanted to be but could crack down on you like there was no tomorrow as well. In a way, Cass could be like that, too. It was one of her best qualities.

Taking pity on Harry, Cass walked over to her grandma and said loudly, "Grandma, don't be mean. Harry, she didn't mean that."

Cass's grandma harrumphed and gave Cass a stern look. "Don't take that tone with me, young lady. I'm just getting to know your brother. In fact, how would you and your . . . company like to come over for tea, Harry?" Then, with a motherly smile, she added, "And Cass is right, I didn't mean what I said. Don't take me seriously—old mind and all that."

"No, no, no, it's alright," said Harry quickly. Cass patted his shoulder twice, sniggering quietly. "Mrs. Weasley, can we go over for tea?"

Bustling over to them, Mrs. Weasley introduced herself eagerly. "Hello, please call me Molly. It's wonderful to meet both of you." Sirius barked in agreement, causing Mrs. Weasley to shoot a stern look at him.

"Jimmy McGarther," replied Grandpa, shaking Mrs. Weasley's hand.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Molly. I'm Joyce," said Grandma. "May I ask, how do you know Cass and Harry?"

"Oh, Harry is friends with my children. I've known him for—what is it now, Harry dear, five years? Yes, that's right. Goodness, how the time flies. I'm here to drop Cass off, but I would love to join you for tea."

"Drop Cass off?" repeated Grandpa Jimmy. "Didn't she take the express?"

"It's a long story," said Harry.

"I'll tell you when we get home," promised Cass.

"It seems you have lots to explain, Cass," said Grandma, looking down her nose at Cass.

Cass frowned. "It's pathetic how much of an understatement that is."

"What can be bigger than finding out you have a brother?" wondered Grandpa.

Cass opened her mouth then closed it. Harry ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it into a fine mess. Tonks cleared her throat. An unintelligible snappish remark came from somewhere to Cass's right; Moody obviously disapproved of them talking about this out in public. Cass herself was starting to think it was a bad idea.

"I see," said her grandma slowly, her eyes alight with curiosity. "We can discuss this over tea, then."

OoOoO

Years from then, Harry could still remember with much clarity the expressions on his sister's grandparents' faces. Mouths parted in small 'o's, eyes filled with shock, faces lined with disbelief, Joyce and Jimmy McGarther were beyond flabbergasted. Their minds had been blown. Harry worried that one of them might have a heart attack.

"These cakes are delicious," offered Harry awkwardly. Cass gave him a look that said, 'Seriously?' He shrugged and gestured for her to do better.

Frowning at him, Cass tried a different approach to snap her grandparents out of their stupor. "Grandma, Grandpa? I know the story's mental, but—"

Mrs. McGarther held up her hand. "Cass, leave it at that. The story's mental."

Harry watched Cass open her mouth but no words came out. She looked . . . lost, as though she regretted words couldn't come to her. Cursing Dumbledore silently, he gave her a small smile and hoped it was comforting to her.

Tonks and Moody had gone back Grimmauld Place, taking a reluctant Padfoot with them. Harry had been there to fill in all the gaps Cass left out. Mrs. Weasley had more or less stayed quiet, letting the Potter twins tell the story themselves. The Potter twins. What an odd and foreign thought. Harry rolled it around in his mind, blinking away that familiar disbelief, and returned his attention to Cass's grandparents.

"You two . . . you two are twins?" confirmed Mr. McGarther, disbelief clear in his tone. "Are you pulling our legs?"

Cass shook her head, apparently unable to find words.

"We are, sir," said Harry, giving Cass a sympathetic look. "I promise, we are." He wished he had better words to say. He wished Dumbledore hadn't kept it from them. He wished his—their—parents were still alive. Wishing gave him a fat load of nothing, though, didn't it?

"I can't believe this," whispered Mrs. McGarther. Cass made a small noise of sadness. "Cass, tell me this is a prank. Those prophecies you mentioned . . . that evil man . . . how did you get wrapped up in this, child?"

Cass shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "I—I don't know." In a stronger voice, almost bordering on defiant, she added, "But even with all that stuff, I'm glad I know."

"I'm glad you know, too, kiddo," said Mr. McGarther. "I'll have to exchange words with this Bumbledore fellow . . . keeping something like that . . ."

"Dumbledore," Cass corrected absently.

"Pardon?"

"Never mind."

"Young man," said Mrs. McGarther suddenly. "You look after our Cass, hear me? I don't want her getting mixed up in all your trouble."

Harry lost his voice for a moment. The elderly woman had struck a nerve. He constantly worried that being related to him would get Cass hurt . . . or . . . he couldn't even finish the thought. What if Voldemort found out? What would he do to her?

"Grandma!" exclaimed Cass. "None of that is Harry's fault!" She definitely had defiance in her eyes now, and quite a bit of annoyance. "You can't blame him for that."

"Cass, your grandmother didn't mean it like that," interceded Mr. McGarther hurriedly. "She's just worried. We both are. That's a lot of worry you've just given us, and we can't bear the thought of you—or Harry—getting hurt."

Harry started, surprised Mr. McGarther had included him. He felt his heart lighten at the old man's words.

"I know, I know," said Cass, her voice calmer. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you . . . I'm really sorry." She looked ashamed and upset with herself.

"It's alright," said Mrs. McGarther, moving to sit next to Cass. The two embraced each other, seeming to draw solace from one another. Harry looked at the scene with relief; Cass had at least had a better childhood than him, and that thought made him glad.

"Say, junior, how about you come over for Christmas?" offered Mr. McGarther kindly. "Joyce, we can have Harry over, right?"

"Of course . . ."

"Oh!" said Mrs. Weasley. "I was just going to invite you over for Christmas dinner. We have more than enough room, and you can meet Harry's godfather, Sirius."

"Technically, you already met him," said Cass. "He was the dog at the platform."

Mr. McGarther blinked three times, sighed, and said, "I thought that dog behaved rather oddly. You wizards are something else."

Cass, seeming over her discomfort, smiled brightly. "Sure are!"

OoOoO

Cass hopped out the Weasley's Ford Anglia excitedly, a sack of gifts in her arms. It was Christmas Day—twilight, to be precise—and she and her grandparents had just arrived at Grimmauld Place. That morning, she had celebrated the holiday with Grandma and Grandpa. From them, she had gotten a new hairclip, a sketchbook, and a stack of Muggle paperbacks to read at Hogwarts. She wore the hairclip now, as well as the green fuzzy sweater she had received from the Weasley family. The owl had arrived just as the McGarthers were eating breakfast, and if not for Cass's Sight, it might have scared the daylights out of them. She had gotten a paint brush that didn't need paint from Harry and Sirius. Secretly, she was glad Sirius hadn't gotten her a Firebolt. Though wicked, it seemed they didn't know each other enough for a present that expensive. And wasn't that sad?

But Cass didn't feel sad at all. In fact, she couldn't have been happier. She was about to spend Christmas night with her grandparents, her newly found brother, her godfather that might not technically be her godfather, and her friends. Last night, her Sight had given her visions of the dinner, just little flashes really, and she couldn't wait.

"This is the place?" asked Grandpa, skepticism written all over his face.

"It's magic, Grandpa," replied Cass. "You'll see."

"Magic houses?" whispered her grandpa to himself. "Okay, kiddo."

Skipping joyfully down the sidewalk, Cass skidded to a halt right outside Grimmauld Place's porch. She could see through the Fidelius Charm, of course, but her grandparents hadn't been told of the place by Dumbledore yet.

Mrs. Weasley, who had driven them over, took out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Cass's grandparents to read.

"Here, read this. It will let you see the house."

Clearly confused, Cass's grandparents looked over the paper before looking back up at the house. Their eyes went wide. Smiling, Cass took both of their hands. They felt cold, out in this wintery weather.

"I never get used to it, either," she told them. "Magic."

"Try doing it when you're in your seventies," said Grandpa Jimmy.

With that, the four of them walked into Grimmauld Place.

That night, amidst laughter and cheer, Cass's two worlds cemented themselves together. Her grandmother and Mrs. Weasley became fast friends, sharing the act of scolding everyone at the table for "atrocious manners" (which Cass wasn't sure was true—only Fred and George behaved awfully). Grandpa Jimmy and Sirius, though a larger age gap separated the two, got along well too. They were much the same—all fun and jokes and perpetual childishness (that is, until, Grandma Joyce got onto Grandpa Jimmy for cracking an innuendo—which was hilarious, by the way). Cass and Harry talked with Remus throughout the entire night, their conversation ranging from pranks the Marauders had pulled to less-happy topics, like Dolores Umbridge's new position as Head Inquisitor (there had been quite a bit of ranting on all their parts when that came up—Remus especially, being a werewolf and all, had reason to hate Umbridge). In between the first and second course, Ginny had told Cass Mr. Weasley was getting better—so well, in fact, that he might make it home before the end of the break. After dinner, Cass handed out her presents—cards, that's all she could afford—to everyone. She had designed them around the receiver's immediate future, which she thought had been pretty thoughtful at the time, but compared to the gifts she had gotten, it seemed measly. Oh, well. She could've done worse. Fred and George handed out sweets that turned everyone's faces blue—or would have if Cass hadn't warned everyone (what did the dolts think would happen?).

Besides that minor incident, where Mrs. Weasley dragged the two Weasley twins by their ears to screech at them in the kitchen, the night was amazing, filled with splendor and magic and family.

With the fairies twinkling in the Christmas tree, her grandparents getting along with the wizards, and her heart lifted by cheer, Cass could almost believe Voldemort wasn't out there, that he wasn't after her brother's head, and that the horrors of the world were simply nightmares.

Almost.

OoOoO

The Knight Bus slammed to a stop with a BANG! Cass, her fingers gripping a bronze pole, swung forward, barely managing to hold on. The others weren't so lucky.

"Next time," George wheezed from the ground, "can we just take the train?"

Moody, his scarred face impassive, didn't deign to reply.

Tonks did, however. "Sorry, the station's too full of people. This way's better."

"Yeah," huffed Fred. "Better."

Toting their luggage behind them, Cass, Harry, and the Weasley children hopped off the bus and onto Hogsmeade Station, their Winter Break over and their brains ready for more of Hogwarts curriculum. In the distance, they could see the Hogwarts Express traveling towards them, clouds of smoke pumping out from the top.

"Perfect timing," commented Ron, looking appreciative.

"I hope Hermione wasn't too worried about us," said Ginny, rubbing her gloved hands together for warmth.

"Dumbledore would've explained to her," said Tonks.

Cass lifted her eyebrows. "Would he have?" she muttered bitterly under her breath. Tonks grimaced awkwardly in response.

With another ear-shredding BANG the Knight Bus shot off, its conductor Stan waving goodbye. Tonks, Moody, and Remus would just Apparate back home.

"Well, we should go before the rest of the students arrive," said Tonks. "Remus?"

The werewolf had been looking at Hogwarts nostalgically. "Yeah . . . we should."

Tonks and Remus gave everyone hugs, with Moody nodding to the children curtly, and then, just the train rounded the corner, they were off. Poof. Cass couldn't wait until she could Apparate.

They all waited in silence as the train squealed to a stop. Cass scanned the crowd of students that got off, looking for her friends. Spotting Brooke, she waved and wove through the students, leaving her trunk with Harry to watch over.

"Cass!" exclaimed Brooke, throwing her arms around her. "Where in the bloody hell have you been?"

"I—I'll explain later!" said Cass, hugging her friend back. "Where's everyone else?"

"The Hufflepuffs were helping their Housemate find his toad, and I think Sarah and Marcell were sitting with their Slytherin friends," answered Brooke.

"Oh, alright," said Cass. "C'mon, let me go get my trunk to put on the train—I don't feel like lugging that thing all the way up to the castle."

"How'd you get here?"

"Knight Bus."

"Oh, that's awful."

"It really was. Poor Harry has a bruise on his head where he hit the window."

"You traveled with Harry?"

Cass wanted to slap herself. Treacle tarts!

"Not on purpose. He was taking the bus too." The lie stuck to the roof of her mouth, an icky substance. Brooke narrowed her eyes.

"Sure," she said sarcastically. "What's really going on, Cass? I mean, I in no way control who you hang out with, but suddenly—out of nowhere—you start sitting with Harry Potter? And then you disappear with him out of the blue days before Winter Break? Something's up, and obviously you just don't want to tell us.

"I do want to tell you, Brooke," said Cass in a small voice. "But . . . I can't."

"You can't?" echoed Brooke, her eyes hard.

"Yes. I can't."

"Or you won't." It was a statement.

Cass threw her hands up in frustration. "Fine, I won't! I'm—I'm so sorry. But this secret—I don't think I can handle it getting out. And"—she dropped her voice to a pathetic whisper—"I don't think I can handle the way you looked at me if I told you."

Brooke gave her a long look, and then with deliberate caution, she said, "Fine. Whatever. You don't have to tell me. I can understand keeping a secret like that, even if I don't like it."

"Thanks," Cass said earnestly. They arrived where Harry was waiting. "Hey, I'm going to travel back to the castle with my friends. It was funny running into you on the bus."

Harry gave her a confused look, but thank goodness he got it, for he said, "Yeah, er, small world. Hey, Brooke."

Brooke smiled in greeting, the months of D.A. having erased a lot of the awe she felt for the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well, thanks for watching my trunk. Bye, everyone." Cass waved to the Weasleys. She didn't see Hermione yet, so she would just have to ask her how her break was in the Gryffindor common room later. Harry smiled warmly in return. Cass couldn't help but notice that it was a very brotherly kind of smile.

Cass and Brooke ran into the others on the train. Happy to see her friends, Cass embraced everyone after she put her trunk in a compartment.

"Cass, what happened?"

"Why'd you leave early?"

"You weren't on the train . . . is everything alright?"

"You missed the best thing—Sarah told off Princess, called her a stuck-up wart right to her face . . . it was priceless! But where were you . . . ?"

"She's hiding something, she won't tell me, and she said she missed me most!"

"Brooke!" Cass snapped, rolling her eyes. "I missed you all equally. And . . . and we should probably leave the train, now. We can talk in the carriages. Oh, and Bello! You got your hair cut!"

Belle ran a hand through his now-short brown hair, smiling. "Thanks for noticing." He flashed his gaze to Brooke pointedly.

Brooke turned her nose up in mock indignation. "Cass is a Seer—of course she would notice. You can't blame me for not noticing."

Cass snorted. "I didn't use my third-eye to see that."

"Yeah, and besides, Rose, Janelle, Marcell and I noticed," put in Sarah.

"Cyrene did, too—and she was only in the compartment for a couple minutes!"

Brooke crossed her arms and frowned while everyone else sniggered.

The carriage ride up to the castle was . . . something. Definitely something. As soon as everyone had gotten situated, Cass found the attention of her friends focused directly on her. She cleared her throat.

"Okay . . ." She wondered how to say this without lying. It would be difficult. Looking at her friends' faces, she felt guilt like a blow to the gut. "Okay, so something's . . . happened."

"Gee, no kidding," muttered Marcell, gesturing with his hands in a way that said, 'Duh!'

"Cass, it's alright if you don't want to tell us. But we're here for you." Janelle was too good for this world.

Cass sighed. "It's . . . this secret—it's the kind of secret that people can get seriously hurt over."

Sarah looked thoughtful. "How about we ask you questions and you can either answer them or not?"

Cass liked that idea. Maybe it was cowardly, since it meant she didn't really have to talk, but she just wasn't ready for them to know. Especially since, if her vision of Brooke was anything to go by, the secret would get out if she told them.

Immediately, Rose blurted, "Why are you hanging out with Potter?"

Cass scrunched up her face; her friend had jumped right into the heart of the matter. Before she could answer, Brooke snapped her fingers in revelation.

"You Saw something about him—maybe something from his past, or his future, and that something has to be kept secret!"

That wasn't technically wrong.

"Yes," said Cass, nodding, her heart lightening. Maybe she could get away with telling her friends just enough information without letting them know the entire story.

"And you can't tell us because it isn't your secret to tell!" said Sarah, nodding like it made sense. Cass supposed it did make sense, and so far it was mostly true. Mostly.

"Which is why you're hanging out with him," continued Rose. "You Saw something about him, and then you two became friends over that shared secret."

"Exactly!" said Cass, beaming. This could work. She could weave around lying to them. Until . . .

"But then why did you leave early?" asked Sarah, frowning.

Cass's spirits plummeted, bracing herself for the guilt. "Well, the Weasleys left early too. It's because their father was . . . well, he was attacked at the Ministry. I Saw it happen and went to tell Professor McGonagall, and then I had to show Professor Dumbledore where it was that I saw the attack. By that point, there were only a few days left in the term, so he decided I could just go home. Said it'd probably be best to see my grandparents." Cass shrugged, feinting confusion. "I wasn't about to object."

The others still looked confused.

"But, what about Harry?" questioned Bello. "He left early too . . . ?"

"Oh, him. He's some friend of the Weasleys-well, you guys know. Him and Ron are best mates. I guess he just wanted to make sure Mr. Weasley was okay—I didn't really ask," lied Cass. Everyone shrugged, accepting her story. She felt dirty with dishonesty. The lies left a sticky residue in her mouth. Even having only known them a few months, she cared for her friends deeply. She didn't want to lie to them, but—and this ashamed her to no end—she also didn't want them to know the truth. It was a sad—and thin—line to walk.

The story had been composed by Moody and Remus. They both had kept it simple, concise, easily believable. Obviously, it couldn't get out that Cass had spent a good chunk of her break with the Weasleys at the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters. And, perhaps even more importantly, it wouldn't do to have Harry's mysterious snake-vision become common knowledge. So, all the kids had rehearsed this story, being asked questions by Moody and Remus, and it would hold up against scrutiny. But that didn't mean Cass enjoyed lying to her friends.

Luckily, their carriage ride was coming to end. Gloriously alight with candle flames, Hogwarts towered ahead of them, an impassive castle. The sight reminded Cass of how permanent the school was. How many other children had walked through its gates? Surely some of them must have had bigger problems than her own. And all of them had found a home in Hogwarts. A home that wasn't tainted with Dark magic, a home where kids could be kids.

Strangely, it was a comforting thought.

OoOoO