June 27, 1976 — McGonagall Manor

"Cailean's offered to show you around the town?" Minerva asked, her smile mischievous. "Of course you can go. Just come back before seven, so we can eat dinner together."

"Thank you, Master."

She thought he looked different in the bright, morning sunshine — his features softer, his hair a more chocolate brown. Demonstrating his proficiency or perhaps her acclimation, their apparition onto the outskirts of Caithness was smooth and graceful, and he took her hand as they walked through the rolling fields, a peaceful silence between them.

"You'll find it lovely, I'm sure," he said quietly, as the first buildings began to appear in front of them. "I miss it every time I'm gone. France is beautiful, but here…"

She could see what he meant immediately, as they crossed into the town. What began as small brick buildings and unpaved streets slowly morphed into lines of townhouses and little shops, quiet, but with murmurs of life emerging in their surroundings.

He led her further into the town centre, a couple minutes' walk, when the streets grew busier, a few people passing them by on the street, or seen through the windows of the shops.

"This is where I'm staying," Cailean announced, slowing and gesturing towards one of the townhouses. It was made of stone and beautifully decorated, and just large enough that she could picture a family living inside. "I lived here until I was three, before my father decided to move us to his late parents' home, in Saint-Veran," he added, as if sensing her thoughts.

"It's a lovely home," she nodded, and he smiled.

"Thank you," he replied. "There's a small café just across from here that I greatly enjoy, which is an added benefit, certainly... Would you like to see it?"

"Sure," she shrugged, and in a bold move, took his hand into hers. She was rewarded as Cailean's eyes lit up, and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

The coffee shop was lovely, its interior dark and cozy, reminiscent of the café her and Severus had visited back when they had been staying with his grandparents. The melancholic, guilty pang of the memory was not helped when Cailean began chattering with the store-owner in French, but she attempted to surpress it, as he turned to her with that lovely, warm smile and asked her what she would like. She could enjoy herself — worrying over Severus, or over what he would think, would not help her.

In the end, they ordered two cups of coffee, and a chocolate croissant to share. Cailean took her into a secluded corner of the shop as they waited, and they spent the time discussing where they wanted to go next.

"The town hall is just a few blocks down from here, and across it is a a public park with a floral garden," Cailean explained, tracing a map onto the walnut table. "Otherwise, there's also a lovely antique bookshop that I enjoy frequenting. And of course, that's to say nothing of the magical sector."

"Oh?" she asked, tilting her head.

"It's like Diagon Alley, I've been told, but much smaller. Most of the wizarding folk live and shop there, but quite a number of them also work with the Muggles."

"It must be difficult, no? To keep everything separate."

Sadness flashed across his face, and his eyes darted to a table near them, where a couple sat with their two children — their faces bright as they shared a slice of dessert.

She turned to him, confusion in her eyes, but he shook his head. "If Minerva hasn't told you — it's not my story to share. Suffice to say, yes. It can be… almost unbearable, sometimes."

She wanted to ask him more, but at that moment the store-owner brought over their order — his heavily-accented speech almost incomprehensible, but his excitement clearly conveyed as he exchanging a few words in French with Cailean, before leaving them.

Cassiopeia savoured the first taste of her coffee and watched as Cailean drank his, wondering how she could move past what was clearly an uncomfortable topic with the wizard in front of her.

"You speak beautiful French, by the way," she said after a pause, and was rewarded as Cailean's gaze jumped to hers, his cream-coloured skin flushing lightly.

"I'm glad you think so. Though I can't say it's all my effort — my parents had to drill it into me as a child."

"Oh. Are you close with them?" she asked after a moment.

Cailean gave her a sad smile, and she cursed her curiosity for bringing her to the most difficult topics.

"We're not on the worst of terms, but… my older brother, Lachlan, will be the one to inherit the family wealth and title — not that there's much to it. My parents' focus, for as long as I can remember, has been on preparing him."

"Oh. Well, I… can't say that I understand, but I do empathise."

He smiled warmly, leaning towards her. "Of course. And, please don't be upset — I cannot overstate just how many opportunities I have obtained, just by being second-born."

She nodded in agreement, thankful for his amiability, and they finished their order in pleasant silence.

As they left the establishment, Cailean directed her towards the town hall. It was a beautiful building — similar in style to the others in the town, but with more grandeur: arched windows and columns denoting its importance.

When they stepped towards its she had to pause, a pulse of magic arcing through her like lightning.

"Can you not feel it?" she asked Cailean, when he tilted his head at her curiously.

"There is something here — some magic."

She shook her head. "Yes, but more — "

In the moment, she recalled a line from the first book she'd read from Minerva's library, entitled 'Caithness and its History.' The town centre had long been used for ancient rites and rituals, before Muggles overtook it — perhaps also drawn to the fresh magic that poured forth from the grounds.

She opened her mouth to mention it to him, before changing her mind. She had to be careful. "It's… strange," she explained vaguely, but Cailean accepted it with a nod.

Together, they walked to the back of the City Hall, regarding a crumbling, half-destroyed wall which looked entirely out of place when opposed with the pristine building it was connected to.

When they stood in front of it, Cailean unceremoniously placed his hand on the stone and — it disappeared, leaving only a sheen of silver at the line between his wrist and his arm.

"Like Platfrom 9 and 3/4," she murmured, impressed, before following after him — stepping inside.

Welcome to Katanes — a sign in front of her proclaimed, as she entered the bustling street, a change from the near dearth of the outside town.

Magic pulsed in the air, strong and clear — she felt it against her skin as Cailean led her forward. There was something special in this place — she was sure. Entranced, she was sure she'd have stumbled were it not for the wizard's steadying hand on her arm — ever the gentleman as he led her forward.

Eventually, the buzz of the magic died down, and she could finally enjoy the sight, surprised to glimpse a couple of familiar faces in the crowds of witches and wizards going about their day.

Luthais, Adair — Imogen.

Their eyes met, and the girl raised up a hand in greeting, Cassiopeia doing the same.

"She's an interesting one, isn't she?" Cailean murmured, once the older girl had moved out of sight.

"Yes, certainly. She acts — like a Slytherin," she smiled slightly. "It's still strange to me that most everyone here isn't educated at Hogwarts."

"It is is a bit of a cultural hegemony," he agreed. "But towns like this — people prefer artisanship, farming. Those are easier taught from parent to child, or master to apprentice. Though I will say, since Aunt Minerva started teaching at Hogwarts, some of the townspeople have warmed up to the idea of sending their children there. Still, with the current tension…"

It was the first time Cailean had alluded to the conflict, and Cassiopeia couldn't help the pang of guilt at her — if not deception, then lie by omission. The people here, if they were at all like Minerva, would be fiercely opposed to the side she was already entrenched in. The thought that she had spoken with the Dark Lord, corresponded with him… she was deceiving them.

"Alright?" the wizard murmured in her ear, and even her dark thoughts couldn't surpress the shiver that raced through her.

"Yes."

"You're worried," he replied, holding open the door of a small bookstore for her.

"That obvious?" she asked, stepping inside.

"Yes," he answered with a slight smile, and she sighed. She wanted to be truthful, but if things went badly — and he decided he needed to out her Dark 'sympathies' — she would have no choice but to obliviate him, something she wasn't even sure she could do successfully.

As she perused the shelves, Cassiopeia wondered what she could say.

"You do know I'm a Slytherin, right?" she asked quietly.

"Minerva's mentioned it."

"We have a bad reputation, I'm sure you know."

Cailean shrugged. "I've heard so, but, truly, your allegiance makes no difference to me."

"Even if I've done — things?"

"Such as?" Cailean asked, his tone teasing.

"Rituals," she admitted after a moment. "Magic that's… not always considered fully 'light.'"

"That's what you were so worried about?" he asked dryly, his tone somehow reassuring despite the edge of his words.

"I doubt most people here would take to such revelations well."

"Perhaps so," he replied after a moment. "But I'm not most people," he added, his smile mischievous.

She had to smile too.

"But truly," he added after a moment, "Britain is so limited in terms of what you can do. I'm not sure you realise just how much magic, how much power you ignore, simply for the label the Ministry has placed on it. If I had never learned healing rituals because of the misconception that they're malevolent, my skills would be immeasurably worse than they are. I saved a young boy's life once, you know, by performing blood magic."

Simple words; common, uncomplicated. Yet the images threatened to overwhelm her: cell bars stained red, trembling hands, seeping wounds, wide-unseeing eyes. She slammed down her shields, sensation dulling, and her hands growing cold.

"Do you like healing?" she asked, unable to meet his gaze as she worked to surpress the thoughts, to distance herself.

"It's difficult, at times, but rewarding. Very much so. It's…" his entire demeanour seemed to glow, "… impossible to describe the feeling of finally seeing someone get well. Of helping save them. It's incredible."

She breathed a little easier, thankful for his answer.

Later that day, as they walked the trail down from the town, and to their apparition point, Cailean called her gaze to his — warm, grey eyes shining with sincerity.

"This was lovely, Cassiopeia," he murmured, his hand warm and soft against hers. "I greatly enjoyed spending time with you."

"I did as well," she answered, fighting to keep the blood from rushing to her cheeks.

"If you are unopposed… would you like to visit my home sometime? I would hate not to see you again."

This time, she did not hesitate. "Yes. Of course."

July 1, 1976 — McGonagall Manor

Severus,

Thank you so much for your latest letter. I wish there was some advice I could offer you, but I'm afraid I don't know what to say. My only hope is that in a few days Eileen returns to herself, but please do write me if that doesn't happen, or if she gets worse. I'm unsure what I'd be able to do, but it'd ease my worry at least.

I wish you were with me here, though. Caithness really is lovely, and it'd been wonderful having the morning to myself, and then studying with Minerva in the evening. Everything is so peaceful and quiet — I do wish you could share that with me.

I've also made a friend, who I've been spending a lot of time with. I'm sure you'd like him if you met him — he's incredibly passionate and intelligent, and a wonderful person to talk to. Maybe you will — I do hope you'll at least be able to visit. Minerva's told me she'd be happy to come pick you up anytime you'd want.

I think it would do you good to get away, if only for a little while. I love our town, but you must admit it's not the happiest place to be, especially if things are as bad with Eileen as you say.

I hope things will get better on your side of the world soon.

— Cassiopeia

P. S. My OWL scores came in just as I was getting ready to fetch Muir — Os in Potions, Arithmancy and Transfiguration; Es in Ancient Runes, DADA, Charms, and Herbology; and an A in History. It's pretty much what I expected, I just wish History could have gone better. What about you? Have your scores arrived yet?