December 3, 1976 – Hogwarts

Cassiopeia lay curled on his lap, and he carded his fingers through her hair absently, savouring the connection between them. She had wandered into his dorms an hour earlier, and though he had been reluctant to abandon his current research, she had wanted nothing more from him than contact – they could… cuddle – Merlin, he never thought he'd use the word in connection to them, – while he continued to read.

"I've been thinking…"

"Yes?" he drawled, closing his first-edition Moste Potente Potions.

"I know you're looking for potions with unicorn blood, taken by force, but what if… what if whoever did this didn't know of the distinction? What if they wanted the blood's healing powers, and failing to gain them peacefully, decided to take what they wanted anyway?"

He pursed his lips, trailing his fingertips down the soft cashmere of her sweater. "If we go with your theory, it could not have been the Dark Lord. It also couldn't have been a Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff."

"Too intelligent or too... good. Which leaves us several possible culprits, and no way to find out who it was," she sighed. "If only I could communicate with her… but maybe the centaurs could find out?"

"We can ask them," he acquiesced. "...Was there anything else?"

She sighed, extracting herself from his ministrations with reluctance. "I've been meaning to speak with Minerva… she's gotten good enough at Occlumency that I think we could set our plan in motion. And I haven't spoken to her in public for weeks – Dumbledore must have taken note of that. It'd be prudent to take advantage of it, I think."

"At this hour?" he raised his brow. To be truthful, he was only asking because he'd wanted to perhaps… take advantage of Augustus' absence.

"I've still got three hours until curfew, I'll be fine," she replied, standing from the bed. Before she left, she leaned down to touch her lips to his, briefly, the corner of her mouth rising when he made a mournful sound as she pulled away. "I'll be back," she smiled, before tuning away.

She wandered down the corridor, struggling to control the blush that had risen across her face. She wondered if Severus had been suspicious of her quick exit, but she hoped not –

It was only that she wasn't sure if she could control herself any longer were he to continue like that, his hand almost cupping her breast, teasing her nipple. She wasn't even sure he'd realised what he was doing, and the last thing she wanted was to come on too strong: demand he touch her, or more if he was already proving to be more open to exploration than she had thought.

But fuck, she knew she wouldn't be able to get him out of her head tonight. And why had she even told him she'd return? It must have been her subconscious speaking, craving his contact –

She stilled, a pair of voices finally registering to her ears. Unable to make them out, she stalked closer, pressing her body against the cold, rough wall.

"Mr. Black – what in Merlin's name were you thinking?" Minerva's voice was harsh, the thickness of her brogue indicating her displeasure.

"Professor – " his whining voice rang out. "I just wanted to see if Peter's alright."

Her Master's singular laugh was one of disbelief. "Then you should have asked, not attempted to sneak out with an invisibility cloak. Did you think Saint Mungo's would have just let you in?"

"No, I – I didn't think – "

"Obviously."

Cassiopeia pressed a hand to her mouth to quell her momentary amusement, Minerva's disapproving tone mimicking Severus' exactly.

"Professor – "

"I want to hear no more excuses from you, Mr. Black. Fifteen points from Gryffindor, and I'd ask you to hand over that cloak. You may retrieve it from Mr. Filch at the end of the week – "

"No!"

"I'm sorry?" she asked, her tone icy.

"I can't – it's a family heirloom, professor. From James. I can't risk it getting lost."

"You must think me an idiot, Mr. Black, if you're telling me the spells would hold up longer than even a year. Hand it over, now. If Mr. Potter asks for it back, you can explain what you did."

There was commotion as the item exchanged hands, and then Black was stalking away, his angry footsteps echoing on the floor. Cassiopeia held herself still and quiet until he could be heard no longer, only then making her way over to Minerva, pretending she had been passing by.

"Master?"

She found the elder witch studying the cloak, her brow furrowed slightly. "Cassiopeia," she smiled, putting away the garm.

"I thought I heard an argument…?"

"That boy," Minerva shook her head with distaste. "Mr. Black. There is something so… objectionable about him, even besides everything he has done. I find myself losing my patience with him even more than with Mr. Potter."

Cassiopeia smiled in her head, pleased with the effect of her spell. She hadn't even been sure it would work – the book she had found it in so old – but it seemed to be progressing wonderfully.

"I'm not sure I could weigh in objectively on the topic, professor," she responded mildly. "But besides, there was some…classwork… I wanted to talk with you about, if you'd be amenable?"

"Of course," her Master answered, tuning to lead the way to her office. Minerva wasn't stupid – she knew if it was something that could be said in front of potential witnesses, Cassiopeia would have been forthcoming in the corridor.

"Tea?" the witch asked, once they were both inside.

"No thank you, Minerva." It was difficult to say more, as she stared into her mentor's kind yet severe face, wondering if her own plea would cleave that source of comfort away from her, her Master falling to Dumbledore's machinations.

"What is it you wanted then, lass? Is something wrong?"

"...No… Do you remember the matrix I talked to you about?"

Their following conversation took an hour, as Cassiopeia discussed the finer points of the plan, and most importantly the impacts that Minerva's role in it could bring. At the end of it all, the elder witch sat back in her chair, a myriad of emotions playing across her face.

"A year ago, I would have refused you," she said finally. "But I've long since come to see… not everything is as it seems."

She leaned forward, her amber eyes sharp. "You're… playing a dangerous game, Cassiopeia, but I cannot blame you for being dissatisfied with your choices. I don't know if he'll let me, and I don't know that I can do a single thing if he does, but… I will try… If only because you have put knowledge in my heart, and proven more mature at your age than I was at fifty-three."

"I appreciate this more than you could know, Minerva."

"Don't thank me yet," she answered with a sharp shake of her head. "This could still end badly. Or worse."

"I trust you."

December 10, 1976 – Hogwarts

"Cassiopeia!"

Her heart jumped in her chest at the voice, appearing behind her when she'd thought she was alone on the grounds. Spinning around, she came face-to-face with –

"Evans?" her tone dripped with disbelief, her eyes quickly taking in the other girl's timid stance, the red in her cheeks. She was unarmed – at least at the moment, – and had come alone.

"Cassiopeia…"

She shook her head. "We are long past that, Evans. You made your choice. Have you forgotten so easily?"

"I haven't – "

"What do you want?" she interrupted sharply, cutting off the other girl's speech. Even being this close to Lily was unnerving – she was almost a ghost from the past, entirely unfitting to be even a presence.

"To talk," the Gryffindor said softly, and for a moment Cassiopeia remembered the kindness that had made them friends. Lily's green eyes were wide, pleading. "I've been trying to catch you for a week."

"I don't want to talk with you."

She turned away, and Lily touched her shoulder, causing her to violently flinch. She hated that reflex. Hated herself for having it. Hated him.

"What?" she bit out. "Evans — I'm giving you thirty seconds."

"...Those rumours…"

She laughed, the sound bitter. "So this is what you want to talk about? You feel guilty for lying? Want my undying apologies?"

"I — I'm sorry. "

"What brought this on?"

Lily glanced down, licking her lips. She was as bad of a liar as she always had been. "Nothing. I just — "

"You realised you were wrong. That you made your classmates think a twelve year old was whoring herself out. Very suddenly, too. Congratulations."

It was almost difficult to recognise herself in that mocking tone, as she allowed the hurt and anger she had since thought long gone to emerge.

"Listen – "

"I don't care, Lily. Maybe a few years ago your words could have meant something. They don't now. Go fuck Sirius Black when Potter's not looking. I won't shame you for it."

"How – ?"

"Leave." She was done. So incredibly done.

"What?"

"Leave. We're not friends, Evans – the furthest thing from that, actually. We haven't spoken in years, and I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Just – " the Gryffindor's voice was quiet. "I am sorry."

"Because you were wrong."

"No. No, I – it was an… awful thing to do."

"Lovely," she responded, her tone flat.

The other girl was quiet for a long moment. "I've started realising, recently, that I was wrong about a lot of things."

Cassiopeia sighed, running her fingers through her hair.

"About you two, mostly. Severus – a few months back – he offered to help me. Not because he needed to – he... hates me – but he did anyway."

"Anyone would have, in his position."

"You're saying that because you would have," Lily said softly. "If you two were as… as bad as I'd thought, as the boys thought, you'd have… I don't know – shouted it from the rooftops."

She arched her brow. "You thought I'd tell the school you'd gotten yourself pregnant."

"I was scared of the possibility, yes. I shouldn't have been," she admitted, then paused. "I… have a gap in my memory, from around thirty minutes before I miscarried. And there was an aftertaste of valerian in my mouth… He helped me. I know he did. And knowing – everything – you helped me too."

"What do you want?" she asked, and her tone was tired rather than harsh.

"To thank you. Both. And to say I'm sorry. Also to you both."

"Does that change anything? Tell me Lily, does that change a single fucking thing? You're going to walk away from here, go back to the Gryffindor common room, and pretend to your still-best-friends that you haven't told anyone a thing."

Lily glanced down to the ground.

"I won't speak for Severus, and I'm not absolving you of the guilt. I'm finding forgiveness… a little more difficult after my recent – brush with death, you realise."

The girl worried at her lips, fingers twisting in her heavy robes. "Peter… I never thought he had it in him. Professor Dumbledore says we have to believe in his innocence, but – I was there. I – "

"Think you can stomach living with a would-be murderer once he comes back?" Cassiopeia asked with finality, turning to head back. "Oh, wait, you already are. Spare me, Lily, I don't care what you believe. If you'd like, talk with me once you're sorry enough to see those three for who they are."

•••

My apologies for the short chapter today and the lack thereof last week. I'm preparing for a difficult exam that I'm taking soon, and have had very little time to write. Next week or the week after should be back to normal. Thank you for your understanding.