DISCLAIMER:
To those with little virtues
To those with frowns and files
I sure don't want to be sued
So I'll keep this up awhile,
As this story continues
I want to be worthwhile
Need to avoid law issues
And make my readers smile.
So let's make a nice truce
Let's not be so senile
Harry Potter is not mine
But I'll add my own new style!
A/N: Helloooooo! Did you guys like my poem? I swear it took me nearly as long to create it as it did to actually write this chapter (seven months, if you can believe it haha). And it still isn't very good. We've established before that poetry is not my thing haha.
I'm so sorry about not updating for, uh, seven or so months. I've been busy—really busy. And I've had to work through some things. But I love this story, and I love Cass, and I love my readers, so I've determined to finish this fic no matter what.
Again, I'm sorry. I've written an excessively long chapter for NaNoWriMo (about 2,000 short of 10,000 words) to make up for the extremely long update period. Taking a break from the heavier stuff of the previous chapters, this one is also a bit funnier and sillier.
Read, review, and—most significantly—enjoy! :)
OoOoO
A week since Doom's Night and Cass still felt like a massive failure, full of doubts and uncertainty. She had missed so many important events—events she could have prevented had she only Seen them. Oddly, she felt as though she were swinging above a chasm, and whenever she was close to pulling herself out, her hands slid through nothing. Nothing, nothing, and more nothing—it was a blindness born from her own self-doubt.
"A few months of Sight, a couple accurate visions, and I had believed I had it all figured out," she complained to Harry in the common room one night.
"If it makes you feel better," he told her as he scribbled down his Herbology notes, "I almost never have things figured out."
"Brilliant," said Cass grumpily. "We can be clueless together."
"Cheers to that."
What was worse, Cass seemed to have gotten this irrational hesitation when it came to her visions. She was reluctant to trust anything they showed her.
"It's like I can't tell past from present, or future from past, or present from either!" Cass told Brooke and Pauline in their dormitory one morning. Brooke paid avid attention, but Pauline only glanced up every once in a while. "What good is dodging a piece of paper being thrown at you if it happened ten days ago?"
"Well, suppose the paper existed in a time loop," said Brooke jokingly. Cass had glared.
Frustratingly, dreadfully, it all made her feel worthless and small. Her failures kept bouncing around in her head, her doubts tore at her heart, her fears turned her stomach to stone. Nothing seemed to go right after Doom's Night. Nothing seemed to matter after saying goodbye to her grandparents.
In Herbology, Brooke, Rose, Janelle, and Bello cornered her, concern all over their faces.
"Cass, we've decided you've had enough of feeling sorry for yourself," said Brooke matter-of-factly.
"You're going to help us find that rat who told Umbridge," said Rose, whose hair was a dark, pretty color that day.
"Only if you want to," added Janelle kindly.
Cass perked up and took her eyes off the Puffapod she was currently planting.
Cass inhaled deeply and decided to do what she did best: ignoring the negative feelings until they went away. Don't be a little baby.
"You're right," she told her friends after a moment. She sighed heavily. "I've been moping, haven't I? I'd absolutely love finding the kid who tattled"—oh, would she lay into them—"and have some words with them."
The others grinned. "Oh, when I get my hands on them . . ." said Brooke, cracking her knuckles in a way that made Cass almost feel sorry for the D.A. rat.
"Bello, is that a Puffapod seed in your hair?" asked Janelle, squinting at Bello's light brown locks.
"What?" exclaimed Bello, his hand moving up to frantically shake it out.
"Wait, Bello, don't hit it too hard—" began Cass, but Bello had already smacked the seed, causing a flower explode out of it.
"Argh!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of it.
Unsurprisingly, Brooke cracked up. Shooting her an exasperated look, Cass helped Bello get the flower out of his head.
"Don't hit it too hard or a flower will burst out," Cass finished her sentence dryly.
"Uhh . . . my bad."
Cass just shook her head, smiling, and sneakily put the flower in Brooke's schoolbag while her fellow Gryffindor was too busy laughing.
OoOoO
A week since Doom's Night and Harry was still in the headmaster's office, he was still hearing the horrible news, he was still feeling the dread. He thoughts were either filled with fear for his sister, anger at Voldemort, confusion for Dumbledore, or dread for it all. Though he was already substantially behind on his schoolwork, he grew even further behind; how could he write five paragraphs on the Fanged Geranium for Herbology when all the words in his head were Voldemort, death, those born to save, Severus Snape, sister, Cass, and prophecy?
"A few months of Sight, a couple accurate visions, and I had believed I had it all figured out," Cass had complained to him one evening in the common room.
Harry grimaced sympathetically and said, ""If it makes you feel better, I almost never have things figured out." How the hell is that supposed to make her feel better? Aren't I supposed to reassure that everything's okay, that we'll be fine? What kind of brother am I?
"I just have this feeling in my gut, this horrible clenching, that something's going to happen, and I won't be able to stop it," Harry told Ron and Hermione during their break the next day. "Like I couldn't for Cedric."
"Oh, Harry!" said Hermione, and she rushed to give him a tight hug. "You can't think like that—Cass is going to be alright, you hear me?"
"Yeah, Voldemort's wanted a Seer since the last war—he won't kill her," said Ron like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Harry stared at Ron, his face a mask of horror.
"Ron!" screeched Hermione. She took her History of Magic book at smacked Ron with it hard enough to elicit a welp. "What is wrong with you?!"
Harry stayed silent, swallowing hard and wringing his hands. He decided to change the topic before his two best friends murdered each other.
Unbearingly chilling, Harry's dismay stayed with him—a constant, insufferable companion—for the rest of the week. Right up until McGonagall called him to her office during his Divination class.
Right, recalled Harry, Career Advice. How had he forgotten?
"Potter," greeted McGonagall with a terse nod. "You can sit right there," she said, gesturing to the hard-wooden chair in front of her desk.
"Good afternoon, Professor," said Harry tensely.
"Good afternoon. Now, you're here to discuss any career ideas you may have. Based on those options, I'll advise you on which N.E.W.T. classes to take in your sixth and seventh years . . ."
The meeting lasted all of twenty minutes, in which Harry received a lot of useful advice for which classes to improve in and which to take next year. But throughout it all, there was a palpable tension in the air, as though even though they both were speaking, they were avoiding talking at all.
" . . . and of course, I understand you'll work hard to achieve the necessary grades for becoming an Auror," finished McGonagall, with a confident nod and one final note on her parchment. "If that's all . . . ?"
"Er, yes, I think so," said Harry awkwardly. He stood to gather his things.
"Potter, if I could speak to for one more moment?" asked McGonagall. "It doesn't concern your career."
"Sure," said Harry, tightening his eyes slightly.
"With Professor Dumbledore gone, circumstances surrounding certain events have been changed," said McGonagall imploringly, and Harry knew immediately this was the topic they had both been avoiding. "Particularly regarding Professor Snape—though I don't suppose he's a professor anymore. The other Heads of Houses and I, well, Dumbledore has told us to ask something of you."
"What is it?"
"I'm aware you have an Invisibility Cloak," said McGonagall. "And a knife that can open any lock that your godfather gave you. Is this correct?"
Harry nodded, immediately resolving never to let them have either items. No way was he going to give up his father's Invisibility Cloak or his godfather's gift.
McGonagall sighed, as though she had been hoping for the opposite. "I hate to bring a student into this, Potter, but it's imperative we get Severus Snape out of the school and into—ah—headquarters. You don't have to do anything—I would never ask you to—but if we could borrow those items—"
"No," interrupted Harry. "Absolutely not. That's my father's Invisibility Cloak."
"No?" said McGonagall, eyebrows raised, questioning the audacity of him. "Dumbledore said you would do it."
"Dumbledore's said a lot of things," said Harry. "Doesn't make them true."
There was silence for a long while before Harry started feel the tiniest bit bad for what he said.
"I'm sorry—"
"You're right," said McGonagall, though she said it as though it was the foulest thing to ever come out of her mouth. "You're right. I'm sorry for my part in hiding the truth from you and your sister. I am. If it makes you feel better in the slightest, I had no idea I was signing up to that kind of secrecy all those years ago. I am sorry."
Harry opened his mouth but McGonagall wasn't finished.
"However, Potter, I'm not going to tolerate disrespect for Headmaster Dumbledore. He's made mistakes—I can't deny that—but he will always have the best interests of the school and Wizarding Britain at heart. For that, he has my loyalty, if not always my approval. Now, if you're not going to help us, you can leave. Back to Divination, Potter."
And with that, she returned to her work, continuing as if he weren't even there.
Harry sighed, but he couldn't help himself. He had a certain saving-people-thing.
"I'll help you sneak Snape out of Hogwarts," he said, knowing full-well he was going to regret it. "But only I get to use my items, or at the very least I'll be there when they're being used." He was already regretting it.
McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief.
"Thank you, Potter."
OoOoO
Cass tried for several days to force herself to have a vision on the rat. Her friends pestered her for answers that she simply did not have. Giving up on that line of investigation (as if Cass was some sort of tool!), the first-years set off on talking with as many D.A. members as possible to see if any acted suspicious. Hermione might have given them a helpful hint by telling them of the jinx she put on the agreement parchment (which Cass thought was genius, by the way) but no one had found anyone with SNEAK written across their forehead, which told them one of two things: the rat was either very adept with magic (unlikely considering they would have had to break Hermione's spellwork) or they were extremely talented with makeup. This led them to believe that most likely, the rat was a girl, probably older to be good enough at makeup to cover up Hermione's jinx, and someone not willing to go to Madame Pomfrey for help.
"Wait, why does that matter?" asked Bello. "Who cares if the rat went to Madame Pomfrey or not?"
"Well, think about it this way," said Cass. "If I were to get something like that done to me, I would immediately go to Madame Pomfrey—"
"—Because Cass never gets embarrassed, apparently," cut in Brooke.
"Not true," Cass corrected before continuing, "But the rat didn't go to Madame Pomfrey's—remember, Sarah asked—which means she, or he I guess, was too embarrassed."
"Exactly," said Brooke. "So we're looking for someone who's probably easily embarrassed, probably older, and probably a girl."
"Sounds like a lot of probably's to me," remarked Rose. "Can you think of anyone in D.A. like that?"
The first-years fell silent, thinking about it.
"Nope," said Brooke, shrugging nonchalantly. "It's not like we made friends with everyone."
"Wonderful," said Marcell sarcastically. "So it seems we haven't made any progress."
"Yup," said Cass dejectedly. "Who knew investigations were so difficult?"
"Me," said Sarah. "I told you all that we didn't have much chance at finding the rat."
"So why are you here?" demanded Brooke.
"It's funny to watch you all go around in circles," answered Sarah, smiling mockingly.
Brooke smiled back at her, just as mocking.
"What if Cass tries to get a vision again?" suggested Rose before Brooke could say something too harsh or upsetting.
"Circles," muttered Sarah.
"I don't know how," said Cass truthfully, ignoring Sarah's comment. "Even before all this mess with that tart-covered necklace, I could never intentionally give myself a vision. It's like my gift has its own little plan for how things are going to work out, and I'm only privy to the half of it. I can Look, but that doesn't mean I'll See."
"That sounds rough," said Rose sympathetically. "But how do visions normally come about?"
Cass thought about her words for a second. "Usually, the vision is somehow related to where I am, or who I'm with. Or maybe what I'm talking about."
"So . . . well, what if you somehow got into Umbridge's office, where the rat would have told on us?" said Rose thoughtfully. "Do you think . . . ?"
"Yeah!" said Cass enthusiastically. "Yeah, that could work! Capital idea, Rose."
"Thanks," said the Metamorphmagus, grinning proudly.
"What were you saying about circles, Sarah?" asked Brooke triumphantly.
OoOoO
"Potter has agreed to work with us," announced McGonagall. "Professor Flitwick, if you could explain the plan."
Harry sat in the headmaster's office—which, funnily enough, Umbridge could never get into but the Heads had no problem with—with Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, and Professor McGonagall.
And Severus Snape.
"Surely Potter is not going to actively be part of the escape?" said Flitwick, as though the very thought were preposterous and completely ridiculous.
"It's his condition," said McGonagall through clenched teeth. "He'll let Severus use the cloak only if he goes with the man."
"It's his cloak, isn't it?" drawled Snape. "If the boy gets caught, that's his own fault for doing something so stupid."
Harry stared at the former Potions Master. Gaunt and sickly and frail-looking, this shell of a man was hard to reconcile with the acerbic professor he had been just weeks previously. He had this air of confusion about him, as though the man didn't have a firm grasp of what was going on, and this ancient weariness that filled his eyes. It made Harry uneasy.
"In fact, if I may ask, why does this fifteen-year-old boy have a cloak so advanced? I think . . . I recall . . . Invisibility Cloaks are rare, I'm almost certain of it . . ." Snape trailed off, frowning, and he didn't seem to realize everyone was staring at him.
"It was my father's," said Harry slowly, gauging Snape's reaction.
The man's eyebrows lifted. "Understood. Continue, ah, Professor McGonagall."
Harry ogled for a second, his mouth closing and opening without any sound coming out. Merlin, if that's something. Harry didn't want to admit it, but without memories of past rivalries clouding up his brain, Snape seemed almost . . . alright. If Harry hadn't harbored all those times Snape had treated him like less than a human being, he could almost believe it. But, memories or no, this was still Snape. A person didn't change from being a slimy git after losing their memories.
"It's Minerva, Severus," said McGonagall in a way that implied she had reminded him before.
"Minerva," said Snape deadpannedly, flatly. His eyes kept shifting over to Harry's, like he was recognizing him from somewhere.
My eyes, Harry thought suddenly. Mum's eyes.
"Potter will escort you to Umbridge's office," continued McGonagall, quite ignoring how Professor Sprout gawked at Snape, "and let you in using this knife. It can—"
"Open any lock, Minerva, I was listening," said Snape, almost sounding bored.
Minerva—Harry meant McGonagall—stared at Snape crossly. "Well, Potter might forget—"
"Hey!"
"—so you best memorize the plan."
Snape sighed with infinite boredom. "Potter opens the door to this woman's office, grabs the, ah, Floo powder, and I step into the fireplace. I yell 'Grimmauld Place, Black Residence' and throw this mysterious powder down. It takes me to a house—this, ah, Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, I believe it was—where I'll be received by a man who may or may not try and kill me."
"Sirius Black will do no such—"
"I was joking, obviously, on that last bit. But it's been made clear that I—ah—I have done some bad things to this man in the past and as such he won't be, ah, overly fond," said Snape, swallowing. "But what bad things, I wonder? Oh, and it's clear I've not been very kind to you, either, Potter, so sorry about that. I'm sure it was for good reason though, so you won't get much more than that. I'm only trying to make amends, turn over a new leaf—so to speak—so best we leave it at that."
Harry openly gaped; he just got a joke and an apology out of Snivellus at the same time? Merlin. Bloody hell.
"Ah, that's alright, ah, sir," said Harry, because though he felt it was quite not alright, he couldn't find it in his heart to blame this confused, broken shell of Severus Snape.
Snape stared at Harry piercingly awhile longer, his gaze almost palpable in its intensity, before saying rather suddenly, "Who are you?"
"Harry Potter," replied Harry, though he suspected that's not the answer Snape wanted.
"Right," said Snape, dissatisfied.
"We'll distract Umbridge for as long as we possibly can," said Professor Sprout, looking at Harry concernedly. "Minerva, we can't actually allow Potter to—"
"Dumbledore seems to trust the boy, and that's enough for me," said McGonagall, though something in her tone said she agreed with Sprout.
"Of course," said Professor Sprout uneasily. "Ten points to Gryffindor," she murmured before giving Harry a comforting smile. "Thank you, Potter."
"Remember that Disillusioned Charm we practiced, Potter! Use it if you need to! And best of luck!"
McGonagall stopped Harry on his way out, grabbing him firmly by the shoulder. "Listen, if you think for even a moment you'll get caught, tell Severus—inconspicuously, mind you—and run away. No matter what Dumbledore says, it would do no one any good if you went and got yourself expelled. We've given you that coin—if it gets warm, it means Umbridge is coming."
"I understand, Professor," assured Harry with a nod, holding up the aforementioned coin. "Uh, here, sir," he said to Snape, handing him the cloak. They both exited the office, heading downstairs.
It was almost as mind-boggling as finding out Cass was his twin, walking with Severus Snape down the spiral staircase. It gave Harry a strange feeling of déjà vu.
"I don't much like this," said an invisible Snape.
"That makes two of us," said Harry as they descended the spiraling stairs.
"Respect, Potter," warned Snape.
"Do you even remember why you deserve it?" said Harry daringly.
Something cuffed his ear. Harry found himself growing incensed.
"Could you peek out and make sure no one's in the halls?" asked Harry, proudly managing to sound both respectful and cheeky.
"I already have," came an invisible voice. "Obviously."
"Right, then. Follow me."
"Sir," Snape reminded him.
"No need to call me sir, Professor."
"I take back my apology, you insolent—"
"Shut it, Ravenclaw coming," said Harry gleefully. He could practically hear Snape fuming.
They passed through Hogwarts without difficulty, Harry gripping Sirius's knife tightly while trying to come to terms with what he was doing. Breaking the rules with Snape under his Invisibility Cloak. Cass would have a giggling fit—if she didn't already know. It was strange knowing she could be Seeing them right now, or maybe she already Saw them days ago in the past. It was stranger, however, that Harry didn't find himself bothered about it.
Harry checked his watch; the Heads of Houses had promised him to keep Umbridge distracted until at least three o'clock. Presently, it was twenty 'til.
"Alright, we're almost there, sir," said Harry, though it felt odd talking to thin air. For all he knew, Snape could be off wreaking havoc somewhere . . .
"Thanks for the detailed update, Potter," drawled a flat voice close on Harry's right.
Harry pulled an irritated face.
They arrived at the office within the next minute, and Harry swiftly took out his knife, cast a casual glance around, and inserted the blade into the crack of the door. He jiggled it around, dislodging the lock, and opened the door after a tiny click.
Harry ducked inside, waited about three seconds, then closed the door quickly behind him and Snape.
He wiggled his eyebrows at Snape, who had taken off the cloak. "We're in, sir."
OoOoO
Cass and Rose peeked around the corner cautiously, observing the toad's office in mutual silence. It was moments like these where she wished she had the Invisibility Cloak—but, of course, how would she go about explaining that to Rose?
Curiously, as they waited to see if Umbridge was coming, they saw Fred and George Weasley walking casually—far too casually—in front of the office.
Cass's eyes smarted, and she sank into the vision with a sharp prick in her head, feeling as though she were hit in the back of the head by a brick. Seeing hurt more often after the Fléau de Lecteurs visions.
Four kids and a sour-looking adult were pressed into a grossly pink room. Two redheads planted strange items all over the office while the two dark-haired students frantically searched for something . . .
"What are they doing?" questioned Rose curiously, bringing Cass back to present. What's Harry doing in the office with Snape? George was now leaning against the door with his hands behind his back while Fred stared around suspiciously. Realizing this, Cass quickly ducked behind the corner, but the older Gryffindor had already seen them.
"Oi! O' Mighty Seer! O' Magnificent Metamorhmagus! I saw you!"
"Bloody firsties," snapped George.
Cass and Rose reluctantly emerged from their corner and walked over to the twins.
Cass wrinkled her nose distastefully at them.
"What are you two up to this time?" she asked them sourly; she wasn't quite over the pumpkin pie incident.
Fred grinned. "Why, what our fearless leader tasked us with—the epic prank of Dumbridge, of course."
"I thought we gave that up after—" said Rose, but George interrupted her.
"Not us," he said solemnly, as though he were pledging his loyalty to the army rather than to practical jokes. "Never us."
"Scatter, now," said Fred, shooing them (which Cass narrowed her eyes at).
"Run along," added George with an innocent smile.
"We have to get into the office, too," said Cass with a smile just as innocent.
At this, the twins' eyebrows turned up.
"That's adorable," said George. "Go away," he said in the next instant.
"No," said Cass.
"We will prank you," warned Fred.
"Cass . . ." said Rose nervously.
"I'll See you," said Cass confidently, despite her own opinion on the matter.
"Like you Saw the pumpkin pie?" asked George with a bat of his eyes.
"How'd you two idiots like getting soup dumped on your heads?"
"Cass! There's somebody coming!" whispered Rose, tugging on her arm.
The Twins went wide-eyed and before Cass had blinked, George had the door open and was falling backwards into the office. Fred ducked into it right after him, and Cass—not to be left behind, thank you very much—slid in as the door was closing.
"Cass!" came Rose's furious whisper from the other side, but clearly the person had rounded the corner, because she said nothing else.
"What are you doing?" came a voice that Cass recognized as a Slytherin prefect.
"Just . . . hanging out," said Rose nervously. Cass winced for her friend.
"In front of the headmistresses' office?" said the prefect with a sharp tut. "Go to your dorms now or I'll write you a detention slip."
"Yes!" squeaked Rose. A second later, Cass heard running footsteps retreating from the hallway. She let out a sigh and turned around . . .
. . . to find Fred and George staring at Harry and Snape with open mouths. Recalling her vision, Cass wasn't entirely surprised. But she was shocked to see Snape—how could he look so frail and confused? So broken?
"What are you doing here?" demanded Harry in a stage-whisper.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" countered George, gesturing to Snape with a look of disgust on his face.
"McGonagall asked me to help Snape escape Hogwarts. The only working Floo is here, in Umbridge's office. He would've been gone by now—"
"But it seems this Umbridge lady is out of Floo powder," said Snape curtly. "Who are you dunderheads?"
"Fred and George Weasley," said Fred challengingly.
"We have always been your greatest challenges at this school—you're lucky we haven't blasted you," said George. Hate, it seemed, went back a long way between the Terror twins and the Potions Master.
"You can try," said Snape with a curl of his lip, which Cass thought was rather bold for someone who didn't remember how to cast a spell.
"And you are . . ." Snape broke off, his body freezing up. Cass swore she saw a thousand emotions hurtle through his eyes.
"Lily."
It was a statement, not a question. It conveyed grief, and love, but mostly it conveyed guilt.
"No," said Cass, and her voice sat somewhere between gentle and snappish. "I'm Cass. Her daughter."
"Daughter?" repeated Snape, and, treacle tarts, he looked confused.
"Yes," said Cass through gritted teeth. "Harry, I'll help you find that Floo—it has to be around here somewhere . . ."
"Yeah, right," said Harry softly. "Wait, why are you here?"
"Oh, I wanted to see if being in the toad's office triggered a vision about the rat."
"Has it?"
"Nope."
"Damn."
Cass rummaged through the drawers and searched the shelves. Harry cracked open each cabinet and looked for some there. Fred and George, in their infinite helpfulness, busied themselves with completely ignoring the other twins and planting prank items—which they pulled from an impossibly deep bag—around the room in both obvious spots and places that wouldn't be found for months.
"I don't think she has any," said Cass after about five minutes.
Harry scowled. "Yeah, you're probably right."
"Great, the git has to stay longer," muttered Fred.
"All the more time to poison your goblets," said Snape bitterly, though the threat didn't have as much substance as it once would have.
"Oh, bugger," said Harry, withdrawing a coin from his pocket. "McGonagall's warning us that Umbridge is coming back."
"Treacle tarts," muttered Cass. "Still no vision."
"What do you mean by that, exactly?" asked Snape, puzzled, and was promptly ignored by the room at large.
Calmly, predictably, the Terror twins quickly finished off the last of their preparations and cracked open the door, George peeking his head out.
"Best of luck with the git!" Fred said over his shoulder as they ran off.
"We'll keep the toad distracted for a while longer!" said George.
Harry hollered his thanks back and then turned to Snape, handing them the Invisibility Cloak. Snape scowled deeply before shrugging it over him.
"We are we going?" Cass asked him.
"Well, we're supposed to go back to Dumbledore's office in case anything happens, but McGonagall's office is much closer. I reckon we can hide there for a bit," replied Harry.
"Okay," said Cass. "Um, Professor, does that sound all right to you?"
"I'm no Professor anymore, ah, Cass," said Snape. "But I suppose running back would be stupid at this point. Lead on, Potter."
Cass wondered if Snape knew she and Harry were related.
Harry stuck his head out of the room, looked both ways, then gestured for them to follow him. The odd group set off on a swift trot through the hallways, intent on getting as far away from the toad's office as possible.
For a second, Cass's vision flickered, and she cringed in preparation for a thunderous BOOM throughout the school. Harry jumped about a foot in the air, and there was a muffled hiss from somewhere behind them, but Cass just continued walking, rubbing her ears slightly.
"What do you reckon they're doing?" asked Harry, grimacing. Around them, students and faculty streamed out of classrooms, every one of them looking for the source of the commotion. "Merlin, Cass, the paintings!"
Cass looked where Harry was pointing and saw that all the paintings in the corridor had been replaced by a giant, bulbous toad head that quite resembled one Dolores Umbridge.
"Treacle tarts," said Cass in surprise, raising a hand to cover her snickers.
"Fred and George don't do things half-way," said Harry amusedly.
"Keep walking, dunderheads," hissed Snape. "I can't be caught up in the crowd of students."
Cass and Harry exchanged irritated glances before hurrying to dash ahead of the growing crowd. They just had to trust Snape was behind them and not getting run over by students (though that was a rather hilarious mental image).
Cass, guided only minimally by her Sight, wove them through the crowd, muttering under her breath that Snape better not let the cloak fall off, and they made it to the entrance hall ahead of the rest of the school only slightly. Awry fireworks decorated the air with blaring BOOMS, and Cass had to hold her hands over her ears to dampen the earsplitting noise.
"Stick to the sides," suggested Harry, and the three of them (Cass assumed the invisible Snape was following) hastily made their way over to the wall.
"I hate this," muttered Snape sourly somewhere to Cass's left.
"Feeling's mutual," said Harry with a slight scowl.
Students from all directions poured into the entrance hall, almost all of them covering their ears, and professors tried in vain to calm the chaotic crowd.
In less than five minutes, the Weasley Twins had achieved pure pandemonium. Cass was vaguely impressed.
"What do we do now?" she shouted over the din, jostled by the crowd.
"What?" hollered Harry, who was standing in front of Snape and looking none too pleased about it.
"What do we do now?" repeated Cass as loud as she could.
"We can't get through!" shouted Harry. "We'll have to wait it out!"
Cass gave him a thumbs-up and tried not to get swept away by the crowd. Jostled about, losing her patience, Cass suddenly saw an enormous, dragonesque firework emerge from the east corridor. And it was holding a familiar pink shape.
"Is that the toad?" she screamed to Harry, pointing.
Harry's mouth fell open into a shocked grin. Others started noticing the firework, too, and the crowd grew to another height of chaos.
"Drop her!"
"That's Umbridge!"
"Bloody hell!"
"Should we move out of the way?!"
"Form a center in case she falls!"
"Should we help her?!"
"NO!"
"Everybody, move to the sides!"
"Reckon this is the Weasley Twins?!"
"Of course it is!"
"Where are they?!"
"MOVE!"
Many different voices rose over the din—probably aided by Sonorous Charms—and the great mass of students edged closer to the wall to form a small circle; no one, it appeared, wanted to get a toad dropped on them.
"Let me go!" shrieked Umbridge, who was dangling upside down from her ankles. "When I find those who are responsible—expulsion! Punishment!" She screamed her fury at the students, but she was clearly out of breath.
Her hands in little fists, she maneuvered her head around to look around the hall, her beady little eyes taking in the surrounding students. Cass peered around searchingly; mysteriously, all the professors had conveniently disappeared, or Umbridge might have been down from now. The toad herself swished her wand angrily at the red-and-gold dragon, but there was no visible effect. She screeched again as her eyes landed on something to Cass's immediate left.
Oh, that would be Harry.
"POTTER! YOU DID THIS! DON'T THINK I DON'T REMEMBER YOUR NO GOOD FATHER—YOU DID THIS!"
With a swoosh, the volume of the hall dropped to whispers, students anxiously awaiting Harry's response. Cass scrunched her face up—this toad just insulted her father!
Harry stared back up at Umbridge without the slightest hint of fear.
"You can insult me all you want, Professor, but I'd like to think you'd have more respect for my father, who did more in defeating Voldemort all those years ago than I ever did," he said coldly. Students cringed and shrieked at the Dark Lord's name, and Harry shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
"LET ME DOWN!"
"If you say so," quipped a new voice, and everyone's heads swiveled to see Fred and George standing front and center in the ring.
"Sparky, let the nice toad down, will you?" asked George politely.
The great, fiery dragon—Sparky, apparently—opened its claws and deposited Umbridge rather harshly on her lumpy head.
"So," said Umbridge with a "dignified" straightening of her hair bow, "You think it amusing to turn this school into utter chaos? To dangle your headmistress in front of the entire school?!" She had this gleam in her eye that made Cass think of worse punishments than Blood Quills.
"Pretty amusing, yeah," said George with a shrug. "What do you all think?" He directed his question to the students.
Harry, kind of stupidly, gave a loud whoop and was joined by a smattering of applause by other brave students. Cass pressed a hand over her mouth to keep from cracking up.
Incensed, Umbridge brandished her wand triumphantly. "You two are about to learn exactly what happens to wrongdoers in my school."
"Nah," said Fred.
Umbridge looked flustered at this.
"Our time at Dumbledore's school is up," informed George casually.
"It's time to put our talents to good use out in the real world," said Fred importantly.
"Stop by Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes—ninety three, Diagon Alley—for more items like Sparky here!" said George, waving.
And before Umbridge could say another word, quite before she could even do that infuriating little hem hem, Fred and George raised their wands and shouted together, "Accio Brooms!"
There was a loud crash somewhere in the castle grounds and then Fred and George's broomsticks flew in from the east corridor, swept Umbridge's feet out from under her, and stopped with sharp obedience in front of their owners.
The twins swung a leg over their brooms, saluted to a flabbergasted Umbridge, and lifted into the air.
"Give her hell from us, Peeves!"
"Wreak havoc in our absence, kids!"
And Peeves, whom Cass hadn't even known was in the hall, appeared out of nowhere to salute the twins sanctimoniously.
Students applauded tumultuously, Cass and Harry right along with them, as Fred and George each gave a little spin for the crowd. Their great scarlet dragon shot towards the front doors and forced them open in a shower of cascading red sparks, and then the twins sped out the school victoriously, whooping and hollering and tossing more fireworks behind them.
"Get back here! You'll be punished for this!" shrieked Umbridge, waving her wand chaotically and causing tiny pink sparks to burst from the end. She turned her incensed, heated gaze back on the gathered students.
"BACK TO CLASS!"
Everyone scrambled to get away, scattering in all directions. Harry, Cass, and Snape frantically ran along the walls to get to the opposite side of the corridor before Umbridge remembered Harry's minor involvement in the mischief and decided she would take her anger out on him.
They scurried away from the entrance hall, sprinting as fast as they could towards McGonagall's office, frantically shushing Snape whenever he tried to insult their "dunce-headed, idiotic, witless behavior". He did not take well to their shushing one bit, and they had barely been in the office for a second before he whipped off the cloak and turned an evil eye on them.
"You're more of an idiot than I thought, Potter—shouting like that, drawing attention to yourself—weak-minded, moronic boy, you could have gotten us caught—I don't remember you, but I swear you deserved every bit of hostility—"
"No, he very much didn't," said Cass snappishly.
"And you—" Snape cut off, as though he couldn't quite bring himself to insult her.
"Go on," said Cass daringly.
Snape scowled and turned his head.
"I don't even remember your mother," said Snape bitterly. "Just her name. Just that I . . ."
"Yes?" prodded Harry.
"Just that I didn't hate her as much as I did everyone else," Snape finished with a nasty curl of his lip.
Before the conversation could get any more heated, they all heard the unmistakable sound of clanking footstep headed right towards the office.
Flicker.
"Where exactly were you, Minerva?" demanded a toad-like woman covered in nasty welts and black soot.
"Clearing up the swamp with Filius on the fourth floor," answered another, much more intimidating woman.
"Hem hem," said the first woman.
Cass squeezed her eyes shut as her surrounding slammed back into place.
"Toad and McGonagall," she said by way of explanation, rubbing her forehead with a grimace.
"Er, alright, get in the wardrobe," said Harry to Snape, pointing.
"No, I'll just use the cloak, you two can go in there," protested Snape loudly.
Harry shushed him, his muted, frantic pleading going right over Snape's arrogance.
"I'm absolutely not going in there—you two dunderheads best go—"
"Sir, just—"
"I said no, Potter."
Cass bunched her fists up in annoyance.
"I hope you're not allergic to nuts, sir, because I am going to kick yours up to your slimy throat if you don't shut up!" she snapped.
Snape ogled wordlessly and started spluttering, and Cass took that opportunity to push him into the wardrobe and shut the door firmly.
Harry looked as though he were trying incredibly hard not to laugh as she slung the Invisibility Cloak around them, and a second later the door opened.
McGonagall came into the office and held the door open for a disgruntled Umbridge, though she looked as though she would have liked to slam it in the toad's face.
"This school is worse than I thought," panted Umbridge. McGonagall kept her face schooled into strict blandness. "Students causing such a ruckus, departing forever—the Minister will be furious! I'll have an arrest warrant put out, I will—this school needs more work than I could have possibly imagined!"
"Incidents such as this one never happened in Dumbledore's entirety of headmastership," remarked McGonagall with a quiet, seething anger that would have had Cass paling.
"And what—exactly—do you mean by that, Minerva?"
"Why, nothing, Dolores, I was just making a comment," replied McGonagall unconvincingly.
Umbridge narrowed her eyes.
"And that Potter! I just know he was involved somehow—he'll be serving detentions, I'll see to it!"
Any trace of masked fury vanished from McGonagall's face, and now it was more than just her eyes that showed anger. "You will do no such thing, Headmistress. Potter is my student, in my House, and there is no evidence suggesting his involvement whatsoever."
Umbridge straightened her bow self-righteously. "I demand your supply of Floo powder, Minerva, to speak with Minister Fudge. I ran out just yesterday."
McGonagall blinked. "Of course, Headmistress. Let me get that right for you."
"Thank you."
"You're quite welcome."
Cass and Harry exchanged looks under the Invisibility Cloak, both wondering if maybe a duel was about to break out between the two witches.
Umbridge left a minute letter, clutching a jar a Floor powder and casting scathing looks at McGonagall. McGonagall returned the looks with ten times the intimidation factor and then slammed the door shut, putting her fingers over her forehead.
Harry flipped the cloak off, making their Head of House give a frightened start.
"Potters!" she seethed. "What on Earth are you doing here? Where is Severus?"
"Here, Professor McGonagall," drawled Snape as he angrily emerged from the wardrobe.
McGonagall looked as though she were contemplating screaming at them, but instead she said with forced calm, "Why are you here? McGarther, how am I not surprised you're with your brother? Potter, Snape, I thought I specifically told you to go back to the Headmaster's office should you run into trouble."
"Ah, brother?" repeated Snape, glancing between Cass and Harry.
McGonagall stared at him flatly. "Yes, Severus, they're brother and sister."
"Ah, right."
Cass and Harry looked at each other again.
"Professor, what if we follow Umbridge and send Snape through the Floo after her?" suggested Harry after an awkward moment of quiet.
McGonagall shook her head. "The Flooplace locks as soon as Umbridge leaves the castle. It's a magical precaution. If we still follow through, it must be before she leaves."
"Oh," said Harry. "Then can you distract her?"
McGonagall nodded, "I'm planning to. But you two must quickly get out immediately after Severus goes through. Not a moment's hesitation. Last time, she knew someone had entered her office and that's why we couldn't keep her distracted for long."
"Got it," said Cass with a nod.
"Understood," said Harry.
"Then we must hurry."
The four of them quickly left the office, Snape once again under the cloak and still not very happy about it. They caught up with the stout toad after a few moments, and the Potter twins hid behind a corner and watched as McGonagall talked with Umbridge.
"I apologize, Dolores, but I believe that is the wrong Floor powder," said McGonagall easily, no hint of dishonesty in her tone. "I've brought the correct powder here."
Umbridge squinted at McGonagall before snatching the "Floo powder" from the other professor's hand.
"This delay best not have been intentional, Minerva," said the toad quite un-intimidatingly.
"I assure you, it was not," said McGonagall, and she pulled off intimidation much better.
McGonagall swished her wand at the real Floo powder, and a second later, Harry withdrew it from his robe pocket. Sneakily, Cass and Harry crept around the hallway until Umbridge and McGonagall, still engaging in passively aggressive conversation, were far behind them.
Withdrawing his magical knife, Harry jammed it into the door, clicked open the lock, and the three of them ducked inside for the second time that day.
Snape threw the Invisibility Cloak at Cass, promptly took the powder, and stepped into the fireplace. For a man who didn't recall having done things like this, he sure acted confident.
"Ah, thank you both for your help," he said uncomfortably.
"No problem," replied Cass, though this little ordeal had likely caused her and Harry many a-problems.
"Yeah, er, good luck with Sirius," said Harry genuinely. "I mean, you kind of deserve it, but still, best of luck."
Snape scowled at him one more time before throwing the powder done, shouting "Number twelve Grimmauld Place", and disappearing in a swirl of green flames.
Harry and Cass turned to exit the room, but then a familiar, unpleasant voice echoed down the corridor outside.
"Someone's in my office, Argus!"
Harry cursed under his breath and looked at Cass fearfully.
"She won't give up looking for us if she knows we're in here," he told her. "Even if we're invisible, she'll probably find us."
Cass froze and waited for him to suggest something clever.
Harry thought for a moment, then said rather calmly, "The window."
Cass unfroze. "Are you mental?"
Ignoring her comment, he urged her over to the pink-stained window and cracked it open. Cass swallowed and figured she best go along with it, since Harry had more experience in getting into shenanigans like this. Shooting him a nasty look, she shakily climbed out and stuck her foot on the ledge, determinedly staring ahead and not down. "You're insane."
"Shh!"
Harry climbed out after her and hurriedly swung the cloak around them. He then gratefully cast a Sticking Charm on first her shoes, and then his own, and closed the window just in time for them to hear Umbridge open the door.
Cass resisted the urge to look down, aware she might very well pass out if she did, and instead stared straight ahead.
"Tarts, tarts, tarts," she whispered with panic.
"It's alright, I won't let you fall," whispered Harry reassuringly. "Remember the Seize and Pull Charm? If anything happens, I'll just cast that on both of us." How in the name of treacle tarts did he sound so calm?
"O-okay," breathed Cass. Climbing trees was one thing; standing on a narrow ledge hundreds of meters above the ground was something different entirely.
Harry gave her hand a comforting, brotherly squeeze, and then Cass just closed her eyes and focused on the frustrated sounds of Umbridge searching her office from the other side of the glass pane.
"I know you're here!" she was saying. "There's no use hiding, you can't escape!"
Then there was a clang, and a resounding splattering noise sounded from behind the window. Cass and Harry listened mutely as Umbridge let out a shriek and purple glop covered the window from inside. One of the Weasley twins' pranks must have gone off.
"I will have order!" The screech could probably be heard throughout the entire castle, and even through the glass, Cass and Harry winced at the volume of it.
"Tarts and macaroni," muttered Cass in a near-silent whisper. Sunlight glinted off the distant lake, making her blink.
"Do you want me to summon my Firebolt?" whispered Harry. "The toad won't be able to see out the window."
Flicker.
A girl stared out a pink-stained window, her black robes accented with a blue crest. She looked nervous, upset, but determined about something.
"Professor Umbridge, I'm sorry, but I have to tell you something very important. It's about Potter and Dumbledore . . ."
Cass wobbled as she snapped back to reality, and Harry frantically grabbed onto her, pulling her gently closer to the wall.
"Ah, I just Saw the rat," she told him, squeezing her eyes shut . . . Tarts, they were so high up . . .
"Oh!" whispered Harry. "Er, who was it?"
"Cho? I think? Wait, no. Cho's friend—Mary? Mariette?"
Harry's eyes had bulged at the mention of Cho, but then he looked relieved when Cass had said it wasn't her but her friend.
"Oh, Marietta," said Harry, and he said it with scorn. "That actually makes sense—she was never really liked the club . . ."
At that moment, Cass resolve cracked and she glanced down. Vertigo and panic clenched her gut, and she panted.
"About the Firebolt, yes, please Summon it," she choked out. As Harry cast the spell, she gathered her wits and told herself firmly that she would be fine. By the time the broom arrived, she had pulled herself together enough to hop on without much panic.
Maneuvering the broom with the Invisibility Cloak was tricky, but luckily for them, Harry was an excellent flyer. They touched down right outside the Herbology Wing of the castle and entered without much trouble at all, though Harry looked suspiciously odd carrying his broom around.
"It's a good thing Potions was cancelled for the rest of the year," remarked Cass conversationally, "or I would have missed the entire class."
"What a day," said Harry, shaking his head as though trying to clear the mayhem out of it.
"Wicked fun, though," said Cass after a minute of consideration.
"I guess it was kinda fun, wasn't it?"
They both shared a laugh on their way back to Gryffindor Tower.
OoOoO
